DISCLAIMER: ALL OF THE CHARACTERS AND SCENARIOS BELONG TO JKR AND/OR WARNER BROS.
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The man picked up the keys to his Mercedes, looking back at the telephone handset that he had just replaced on the receiver. Even though it was nearly midnight, the usual time for him to get home he felt lethargic, as if a great weight had been placed on his shoulders which he was being forced to take with him everywhere he went.
Not that he had much choice about the deal he had just entered into. Many people in his profession and situation were involved in fraud, deception or money-laundering; it was almost commonplace and those foolish enough to get caught and have their names splashed all over the papers every so often were the only the tip of the iceberg.
And besides, it was only necessary because of the way the shares were going these days. He couldn't remember the last time he had made a profit.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he pocketed his keys and turned from his desk to look at the sleek silver door inlaid with tinted glass. No, he thought as he made his way towards it, he'd done the right thing. The right thing for himself and his family.
Putting his hand on the door handle, the man looked back at the desk, his eyes resting back on the telephone. However, he was worried. Not about the conversation; he'd engaged in many such discussions (albeit legitimate ones) before, but the make-up of the conversation and the way the man had spoken.
He was foreign, that was obvious. But who aside from young children and computer geeks would be interested in those sorts of things? The IRA? The Mafia? ETA?
Nevertheless, thought the man, he would be able to bring home what he should be bringing home had the shares and stocks not bottomed. The money he was entitled to.
He couldn't explain it to his wife; she wouldn't understand. Sadly, he had married a woman, though beautiful, who was, he hated to say, shallow and materialistic. What choice did he have, when it came down to it?
Turning back to the door, he strode forthrightly towards it, opening it by the ultra-modern handle which slipped beautifully in its mechanism allowing him to pull it open gracefully before treading carefully onto the plush hall carpet lit by footlights which shone the way to the car park.
Well, he'd just agreed, hadn't he? And you don't say no to that kind of people; the kind who have an inconveniently efficient way of turning up in the middle of the night at your house wearing balaclavas…
But…what did he know about what they were asking for? It seemed so ordinary, so banal. And, come to think of it, how had they ever got in touch with him in the first place? Perhaps he should just forget it…
…no… he would find a way. The alternative was for him to resign and get another job. They would have to sell the house and move out of London and away from Mother.
Pressing the one-way exit button on the wall the man waited for the adjoining sliding door to the underground car park to slide open.
…they would have to pay for child care, or Serina would have to give up work to look after them. And Mother. Especially now, with her failing health, she needed him…especially since he was the only one…
The man put his key into the large silver Mercedes, waiting for the buttons to glide upwards before he could open the door and a thought suddenly entered his mind…
…maybe his sister might be able to help them all at last…
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The otherwise empty office of the deputy headmistress of Hogwarts suddenly became occupied by both its owner and the school's potions teacher. Both wizards had floo'd back to McGonagall's office on the ground floor of the school, one of only three fireplaces in the whole school where that mode of transport was connected.
Presently, Minerva McGonagall would have quite liked Severus Snape to have left her alone now they had returned; the gravity of her duty that evening before the Order had taken its toll on her mental and physical energy reserves.
Yet the wizard did not seem in a hurry to go. Indeed there seemed to be something on his mind and Minerva had a funny feeling she knew what it was.
"Severus, please sit," she said, gesturing toward a chair that was before her desk and trying not to allow her weariness to show in her voice. Just sit, she added impatiently in her head as Snape eyed the chair suspiciously and withdrew her own sturdy oak chair from underneath her desk, modelling the technique.
"Severus," McGonagall continued as Snape began to pace before the desk, glancing once or twice towards the chair. "In your opinion, this evening, do you believe I was right to have shared the information that I did?"
A few moments passed and then Snape stopped, sitting on the chair and faced her. He didn't reply immediately, but cast her a look before nodding slowly.
"The information is key to everything," he added, nodding again. "Dumbledore assigned you to the task. It is regrettable that on such an occasion where an atmosphere of camaraderie would have been preferable that such news had to be imparted." Snape stopped, fixing her a look, before glancing at the pile of parchment scrolls that Minerva had on her desk, finding the decoration on the top of Ernie Macmillan's essay on advanced transfiguration fascinatingly interesting.
"It was good to see so many of us there; all with the exception of Albus. And Cecilia of course." Minerva picked up a quill, smoothing out its feathers. "And everyone in such fine spirits."
"Indeed. Although there were some exceptions; Remus, for instance." Minerva caught Snape's eye briefly and she nodded in acknowledgement.
"There is a lunar eclipse this evening," he added, shuffling on the chair distractedly. And you didn't seem to choose your words too empathetically, Minerva thought to herself, glancing at her colleague before replacing the quill on her desk.
"I understand you returned her notes when you visited Cecilia this afternoon," Minerva continued, picking up the scrolls as if to sort them by class. Snape nodded slowly.
"Yes I visited her," he confirmed, getting to his feet. "She seemed grateful to have her belongings returned, especially after the events at her home. She seemed well and contented…"
"Contented," confirmed Minerva, pulling out the sixth year essays from the pile as Snape continued his distracted pacing before her.
"Yes, but for how long?" Snape's voice raised in amplitude and he turned to face McGonagall and the surprised expression on the witch's face made him reconsider his choice of words.
"That is to say, Minerva," he continued care fully, "with the complexity of our task she would be more suited here, rather than there. The research would be completed far quicker. And considering the interference by the Ministry, the quicker the better, wouldn't you say?" Snape turned and continued to pace over the dark blue rug that covered most of the office's floorboards
"Two months and this would be done. She could return; she could teach – " He stopped suddenly as he caught Minerva's look of warning.
"And I cannot believe you said that this evening, after everything," she chided, pausing in her organisation of her marking. "It was good of you to make his potion, but even so: their relationship is their business. As is Cecilia's residence."
"But is not this potion our business?" replied Snape quickly. "Mine and Mrs Frobisher's? For I doubt that I will be able to perfect it without her and I dare say those close to Potter will not wish me to develop something which could endanger him un-necessarily."
Folding his arms, Severus Snape continued to pace across the carpet before Minerva; clearly his frustrations were his reason for him still being in her office, she reasoned and she felt a stab of sympathy for him.
"You saw her this afternoon and she was well," Minerva reviewed, picking up her quill and waving her hand over her inkpot, changing the colour of its ink from blue to red. Snape nodded, in confirmation.
"I know this is academic given the circumstances Severus, but what did she say about the job proposal? Did Cecilia say she wanted to return?" Snape stopped pacing and stood unmoving before the deputy headmistress.
"She said she would take the Defence Against the Dark Arts job," said Snape stiffly. Minerva looked up from the first essay that she was about to mark and frowned thoughtfully.
"Perhaps she could, you know," she replied, trying not to smile as a look of incredulity passed over the wizard's face.
"…you can't possibly be serious…"
"But she is well protected where she is; Dumbledore visited Lupin's cottage personally. And besides Albus has enough on at the moment to afford her the luxury of returning her to Hogwarts. No," she continued, dipping the quill in the ink and beginning to underline the mistakes in Macmillan's first paragraph.
"…with is about to happen; with the Ministry's constrictive laws and decrees, and their involvement here…"
"Surely that was just hearsay…" Minerva shook her head, pulling open her desk drawer.
"…no wonder Albus is scared," she continued, holding Snape's gaze. "Potter's visions are just the last in a long line of issues he has to deal with; he should have told the child years ago the truth of it all. What with where he is at the moment, Severus I have to admit, so am I."
"Then even more of a reason that Cecilia Frobisher should return to Hogwarts; you and I can protect her wellbeing. And there is the issue of Muggle Studies, although I understand that she left a comprehensive programme of study…"
"Och, that is more than sufficient for the entire term, but unfortunately…"
She paused broke off, holding out the item she had removed from her drawer and held it out in Snape's direction. Taking it from her, he pulled off the Ministry ribbon that held closed the folded piece of parchment and frowned at it, confused. Minerva McGonagall held her hands together, watching for the inevitable, waiting as Snape's expression dissolved into confusion as he re-read the information contained therein.
"No!" His thunderous denial of the facts before him reverberated around McGonagall's office, awakening a few creatures that resided in the books on her shelf and one or two portraits of sleeping antecedents of the deputy head, who protested groggily at the noise.
"Unfortunately, we have no choice, Severus," she nodded sadly as he re-read the edict furiously and she repeated the sentence over and over in her mind when, a few moments later Snape hastily left her alone in her office and proceeded quickly down the first floor corridor, edict firmly in hand.
In the seclusion of the potions classroom, Severus Snape stood before a roaring green fire, its flames licking and curling around the even-cut stones at the back of the hearth.
"…expect the details of the aforementioned Wizard Magic and Muggle Science to be fully revealed to our representative who will not only be teaching Muggle Studies but will be undertaking the research role formerly occupied by a muggle…"
A new muggle studies teacher; well there was no great loss there. No wizard job took the qualification of muggle studies seriously; that had been the reason Dumbledore had dropped the exam many years ago.
But sharing the information...carrying out research…
Snape screwed up the parchment tight into his fist, feeling its fibres compress satisfyingly as he considered the information that the aforementioned muggle had furnished him with via her fiancé that evening.
Waving his hand before the hearth the flames changed from floo green to incineration yellow and, as he fuelled the fire in the potions classroom with the foul proclamation Snape aired again the assertion he had made to Minerva McGonagall moments before he left...
…there was only one person with whom he researched science.
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The flames crackled in the living room hearth, bringing Cecilia out of her deep thoughts and making her jump.
Looking around her she realised it had grown much darker and the light from the fire which she had initially sat next to on the fluffy, mohair rug for warmth she now realised had become her only source of light.
It had also become her only source of heat and she reasoned that it must be quite late into the evening. Getting slowly to her feet the cuckoo clock that hung on the far wall confirmed her guess and she glanced down at her notes that she had been writing in her latest notebook.
Not that the notes in the back of it bore any relation to the ones at the front; indeed those at the front were connected to the potion and Cecilia had begun to detail the types of analyses that would be needed in order for Snape's hypothesis to be tested.
She had gone to a lot of effort with the work, for the concept of a continuum of muggles and wizards made perfect sense and, by the time they had made a breakthrough, either confirming or refuting the hypothesis the precise configuration of Harry's potion would be complete and he would be able to undertake the task that he had agreed to last year.
Yes, she thought as she made her way to the kitchen to find the matches and tapers, that was very exciting. It had never been done before and would mean that Voldermort and the Death Eaters would be at last eradicated; that empathy and understanding could begin to build about muggles with wizards, and maybe even the existence of wizards could be revealed to muggles.
Up until that afternoon such thoughts would have excited Cecilia thoroughly, for they would have been the only ones that were possible as a result of her work. It wasn't as if they weren't thoroughly valid and worthy of her attention...
…but now…
Quickly, she made her way across the living room, pausing at each of the four oil lamps that hung from the ceiling and lighting them swiftly before returning to her cross-legged position on the rug before the fire.
Now…
Past the detailed diagrams that she had painstakingly drawn, exploring the links in both magical and scientific lore. Past the cross-references and notes, past the evaluation of energies that may or may not have a bearing on the notion of a range of wizardly abilities and powers. Past even the extrapolation about traits in the wizard world, a small note to herself about similarities and differences in outlook and doctrine…
…right to the back third of the notebook where she had begun to make notes and eulogise the new research which seemed to have fallen inexplicably into her possession and which she had almost overlooked…
The information about werewolves that was tucked into the back of her Organic Chemistry and Synthesis textbook was detailed to the point of academia. In places the detail had been exemplary rivalling even her own attention to detail and if she could, Cecilia would have liked to have shaken the person by the hand for just this.
It was not a hand she recognised though; indeed it did not belong to Snape or any wizards she knew. Further, it looked to be quite old, and there were references to events that seemed to have happened in real life, as anecdotes peppering the notes.
But Cecilia didn't care about the origin, for it was the information the notes contained that was more exciting, so much so that her research into Harry's potion had taken a back seat in her mind. For what these notes appeared to be saying (in a flowery, wizardly manner) was that there was a way in which werewolves could be cured of their affliction…
Cecilia picked back up her notebook, that was filled with her own ideas and she was just about to read again when a "crack" followed by a brief flash of light interrupted her train of thought.
"Evening, love," said Cecilia when she saw it was Remus and, snapping her notebook shut, got to her feet and made her way over to him.
"It's late; had a good evening?" she continued, kissing him on his cheek. "Did you eat? If not, I could – " Cecilia broke off as another "crack" and flash of light filled the room. Remus turned from Cecilia and she watched as his weary face broke into a smile.
"I thought you were right behind me," Remus said, glancing back at Cecilia before kissing her on the forehead as Sirius gave him an indignant look.
"Well it took me ages to find exactly which mountain it was you lived on, Moony," he replied, glancing around the cottage. "Ooh, it hasn't changed much," he added, making his way over to the window sill near the back door. "Still got your mother's things I see; not changed since the last time we were here. Though not quite as lovely as my place," he added. "Hello, Cecilia."
"Sirius!" she replied, looking between him and Remus. "This is a surprise!" Remus looked at Cecilia and smiled again.
"Let me put the kettle on," Cecilia continued, extending her hand as Sirius made to embrace her in greeting.
"Tea would be lovely," he replied and Cecilia nodded as Sirius sat down in one of the wing-backed armchairs opposite the fireplace.
"Tea, love?" she asked of Remus and he nodded.
"But no milk," he replied before settling down in an armchair next to his friend.
As Remus and Sirius began to chat, Cecilia took the matches that she had used to light the lamps in the living room and used them to light the stove. In the same way that she had not been expecting Snape that afternoon she wasn't expecting Sirius that evening and she was grateful that now she had an opportunity for five minutes on her own whilst the kettle boiled to collect her thoughts.
Through the closed door the echoes of their conversation emanated and Cecilia made her way from the door to the tap by the sink as the roar of the flames in the stove began to consume the wood inside it.
"Lovely tea," said Sirius a few moments later as he sipped at beverage from Remus's mum's china.
"Yes," nodded Remus in agreement. Cecilia nodded before placing the tea tray between them before settling herself down on the rug again.
"Good," she nodded, picking up her research book and pen. "How was this evening?" she added.
"Interesting," replied Remus, glancing at Sirius. "Quite a few changes to procedure. And the Ministry seems to be sticking its nose in. They're to replace you at Hogwarts as muggle studies teacher," he added, smiling a little as his moustache wrinkled.
"And how was everyone? I saw the note had gone – " Cecilia glanced back towards the kitchen door.
"Severus was fine; his usual self, Cecilia," replied Sirius. "It was just like old times, except you weren't there. I think a few of us missed you – " He turned to Remus and continued, " – though I think we should have made the effort to have had an Order meeting before tonight; what with all we had to talk about none of us had enough time to catch up…"
It was amazing, thought Cecilia as she opened up her notebook. Four months ago he was trying to kill her and now he was sitting in her living room, discussing with Remus the exact location of their planned jaunt that evening.
It wasn't as if he wasn't capable, she reminded herself as she opened up her Organic Chemistry book again, but more the complete change in his demeanour. Then again, he had witnessed her try to give her life for Harry, face Voldermort and had colluded with Snape to revive her from her unconsciousness.
"…and when Kingsley asked Molly whether Percy had been at the Burrow for Easter when everyone knows he's taken up lodgings in a flat in London…"
Cecilia looked across to the two old friends, chatting easily in each others' company as she got to her feet.
"I'm going to bed," she announced, crossing over to Remus and leaning over to kiss him. "Enjoy yourselves," she added, glancing mischievously at Sirius, "I take it that's why you're visiting, Mr Snuffles."
"Of course," replied Sirius, as Remus kissed her back.
"Enjoy yourselves," repeated Cecilia, smiling as she made her way across the carpet before making her way upstairs. "There's a lunar eclipse tonight; that'll give you something spectacular to watch tonight."
"Night," she heard Sirius call as she got to the top of the stairs. A few moments later and Remus was standing behind her and Cecilia took her hand off the handle of their bedroom door.
"You don't mind, love?" asked Remus, a look of concern in his exhausted eyes. "I – " but Cecilia put a finger to his lips.
"I was looking forward to a night next to you in your wolf form," she admitted, stroking her hand through his hair as he encircled her waist. "But that was because I never thought Sirius might want to keep you company. It's wonderful," she added, kissing him lightly on the lips.
"I invited Tonks over, with Nick again."
"I'll cook," replied Cecilia dutifully, before frowning as a smile played on Remus's lips.
"I thought that I might cook this time, seeing as they are our friends." Cecilia grinned back, rubbing his arm as she recalled the last time they visited and her near disaster in the kitchen when, new to the stove she misjudged the cooking time on the wild pheasant that she had prepared that day. Thank heavens for magic, she recalled.
"Lovely," she replied, kissing Remus again. "Take care tonight."
As Remus made his way back downstairs, Cecilia entered their bedroom. The coolness of unoccupancy hit her face, cooling the flush of embarrassment that she was still feeling at the shock of their unexpected visitor.
Downstairs the backdoor clicked shut, and she realised that Remus and Sirius must have left for the evening. Eleven o'clock. Cecilia made her way across to the window, watching as she had done the last three times when Remus had transformed into a mindless monster…
…only tonight, things would be different…
From her vantage point, Cecilia could just make out the forms of two animals heading towards the west, towards Langdale Fell and the light of the pre-eclipsed moon shone on their glossy coats.
…this time, he was a wolf, nothing more. And he was in good company tonight…
Turning form the window, Cecilia lit the lamp in the bedroom before leaning against the headboard and drawing her knees up so that she could rest her notebook on them and began to consider her research, her personal research again before recalling the image of two canine-like animals chasing one another over the darkened landscape…
…Sirius would make him feel young again, she thought as she perused her own notes. He could be himself with his friend, and he would be with someone who could help him and keep his spirits up…perhaps she should suggest Sirius visit every month…
"Eclipse," she read, from her notes. Why had she written that? "Cyclical symptoms," she had also written, though she had not added any more detail and to be more precise about why she would have to read the notes again, which were downstairs in her reference book.
Flicking shut the book and extinguishing the light Cecilia lay down on top of the bedclothes, looking at the ceiling in the darkness.
She wanted so much to be the person that Remus would gain support from during these times; what she wouldn't have given to be in Sirius's paws right now. If only Sirius hadn't arrived and Remus would be warming his fur now by the fire, having already told her of the main details of the Order meeting; about how the ministry were involved at Hogwarts; about how Harry and the others were…
If only…
At least tomorrow she could spend some time on this using the notes, then at least one day she could be with him every day…
…but for now, she could be contented…Remus would have taken his potion and his good friend was with him…he was happy…he was with the person who could help him the most if that potion did go wrong…
Sitting up, Cecilia glanced out of the window again and she smiled into the darkness. Even though she could see nothing, she knew…she knew Remus was out there, happy and contented.
With that final happy thought, Cecilia gave into tiredness and, throwing her clothes in a heap on the floor, slipped under the covers before falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.
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Sirius relieved his shoulder of his friend's body, lying him down carefully on the bed whose covers he had just turned back carefully. He could feel Remus's cold sweat penetrate his clothes and Sirius's muscles groaned with relief as he slid his right arm from underneath him. Taking a step back Sirius considered the night they had spent in each others' company.
Well, not spent, exactly. The experience he had shared with Remus Lupin that night was hardly pleasant. Endured was a better adjective. But Sirius was grateful that he had been able to be there for his friend during the night for the nights when the moon passed fully into the earths' shadow were the single most painful experiences of the werewolf's life ending, as it always did with Remus's limp body collapsing to the ground in uncontrollable lifelessness.
As he gazed upon the face of his friend, a mask of pain over his unconscious features Sirius Black remembered back to the evening when he had first discovered about what it meant for a werewolf on the night of a lunar eclipse. Had it not been for Remus's urgent desire to share this knowledge with another of their peers, Sirius believed that he would never have found out. Not even James knew, and he was as much a friend to Remus as Sirius was.
It was that night that Remus had opened up to Sirius instead, describing to him that the torment of being a werewolf on such nights; as if every organ in his body was on fire, as if he was being tormented in his mind by conflicting urges and thoughts clamouring for attention, finally resulting after a few hours of that in unconsciousness. By all accounts, since the advent of wolfsbane the usually miraculous potion, despite keeping him from complete metamorphosis, did not help to temper these effects.
"You'll be all right, old thing," said Sirius softly as he took a few steps forward, shaking his left arm absently to allow the blood flow to return to his muscles once more. "In the morning, you won't remember…"
Sirius's whisper trailed off as his canine senses caught a faint odour on his friend's body. Leaning forward further he could see in the dull monochrome light that it was coming from one of many of his injuries and he reached out towards Remus's thigh.
His friend moved in his sleep as Sirius located the huge deep gash at the top of his thigh which was slowly oozing blood onto the crisp sheets of the bed below him.
"This just won't do," chided Sirius gently, looking up at his friend as he loosened his trousers to get at the wound. "You can't look like that for her when she wakes up…"
…looking from his friend Sirius's eyes drifted to Cecilia, her glossy hair catching the moonlight as she moved in her sleep and a feeling of self-consciousness began to creep over him. He was in their room, their own private domain. Really, he was an interloper and should not have been there…
…but he had every right to! Indignantly Sirius Black engaged in a silent monologue argument between himself an imaginary Cecilia, awake and annoyed, demanding to know why he had undertaken the role she felt was hers; to be with Remus Lupin when he needed someone special…
…I have every right, he shouted silently at her. I was the first person he told! I was the person who went with him, alone, on eclipse nights! I was the one who he trusted above all else! Why else would he want me to come with him tonight? He asked me…he told me he needed him, Cecilia…!
But there would be no need for such defensiveness. Remus didn't need to reassure him that he – Sirius – was still a part of his life. He didn't need to assure Sirius that he still shared a part of his life that he was unwilling to share with another…even this muggle whom he had risked hell and high water just to be with. Not even her science could allow her to understand their bond…
…and yet…Sirius's eye caught Cecilia as she turned peacefully in her sleep. She looked peaceful as she lay underneath the bedclothes next to his best friend, naïve of the extent to which Remus needed him that night…
…the dimming moonlight continued to play on her features, her body moving slightly as she dreamed…
…you could not possibly know what we have, thought Sirius as the fading light made her skin shimmer as she moved towards Remus…nor how precarious your position is now…when you don't know it, out here alone…completely unaware that even now decisions were being made about you…because of you…and despite your attitude…
…so vulnerable…and yet lying there, she did not know it…
…were the thin cotton sheet to move a few inches to her left…and…if he reached out then…then he could touch her...touch her softly…that soft skin he had espied so many times…
…it was only when he realised that his hand was filling with blood that Sirius moved away from the sleeping Cecilia Frobisher and forced his mind clear in order to pay full attention to Remus's injuries…
A few minutes later and his best friend's thigh bound securely Sirius turned away and paced across the thinning bedroom carpet. Forcing himself to focus on his destination, the thin wooden door…and beyond…the winding stairs that led to the living room, Sirius concluded that disapparating, even to downstairs, was likely to wake either one of them or both, and that would not be fair on Remus after what he had endured that night.
Pausing over the immediacy and intensity of his feelings Sirius Black reached for the latch on the door, heaving it open before striding through and made his way downstairs to discover whether one of the cottage's decades-old settees would pass for a comfortable bed.
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