Philomena

Remus sighed, and took the bottle of Murtlap back to his lab. He was re-shelving it, when the warning ring of the Wards startled him.

So, he thought to himself, it was time. He slipped an annoying lock of hair back behind his ear where it belonged, brushed some butter off the end of one of his annoying sleeves, and walked up the stairs. He reckoned they had a few minutes before they reached the house.

Amazingly, knowing when his daughter was about to arrive made him more nervous than being uncertain had. At least before he could tell himself that he had plenty of time, that perhaps they would be delayed, that Ralf would spring up from behind a bush, and say, "April Fools! You really ARE a murderer."

Remus shook his head. That last mental image had been silly, even for him, as it was October. He hurried up the stairs, and found that Severus had finished the eggs and polished off the toast.

"Feeling better?" Remus asked.

"Much," answered Snape tartly. "What was that blasted gong?"

"My Wards," explained Remus. "They've crossed the Anitapparition line."

"Ah ha," said Severus. "Then, please, let us go over this one more time: We hope against hope that Dumbledore thinks your argument with Ralf was an elaborate ploy, by me, to make everybody believe she is yours. You pretend to be just what you are. I pretend to be pretending that I'm not what I'm pretending to be. We tell this girl nothing at all about who's pretending to be whom. We are content to behave like civilized people for the duration of the present situation.

Remus blinked. "Let me see if I've got it straight. I have to pretend to be pretending to be me, while pretending I'm not, so that they can think you're pretending not to be me, while you pretend to pretend you're not me, so everyone thinks you are me, while we both pretend to be civilized people?"

Snape tried to think out what Remus had said for about a second, and gave up. He settled for a curt nod, and hoped to goodness the Gryffindor wouldn't foul up his plans. Finally, the visitors had reached the house, and the smoke words formed in the air before Remus:

Parties Not Recognized.

1st Party:

Sex: Male

Age: 42

Armed: Revolver

Emotion: Exhausted, angered, frustrated.

2nd Party

Sex: Female

Armed: no weapon.

Emotion: Nervous, tired.

Remus blinked, dispelled the smoke, and tried to muster up a confident attitude. "That must be them," he said, and opened the door.

A short, dark haired man, stood there, carrying two large trunks. Beside him was a girl. She was small, and looked about twelve. Her face was pale and thin, with starkly defined features. Her nose had a sharp angle, and her chin came to a point. Dark hair curled about her face, giving it a heart shape, as it jutted down her forehead in a widow's peak.

"Come in, come in," said Remus, taking the trunks quickly from the man, and shoving them out of the way. "Get out of the cold, have a seat."

"Lupin?" asked the man, looking from Remus to Snape. "Ralf sent me."

The girl had stepped in and shut the door, looking curiously about the room.

"Yes," said Remus, seemingly at a total loss for words. "Thank you very much for bringing her over. Would you... would you stay for a cup of tea?"

Snape sighed inwardly. What was it about Gryffindors that made them try to solve problems with tea and sweets? Not that Severus didn't like tea or sweets, but there was a time and place for everything.

"I'll make tea, Remus," said Severus, switching his persona so much that Remus blinked at him in surprise. "Don't trouble yourself."

"So you're Remus, then," said the man sourly. "Good thing you've finally decided to take some interest in your daughter's life. Letting your brother slave over her all these years was unforgivable- and I don't care about all that tosh about you having a terrible disease, because you didn't never even write or nothin'. You just walked out on the poor thing, her mother dead, and all, and..."

"Stop it," commanded the child, in a clear high tone. "Sop that, Uncle Gordon, or I shall tell Uncle Ralf what you did."

Remus gaped at one and then the other in astonishment. Was that the story Ralf had told? That he was her Uncle, and that Remus was chronically ill? What exactly did the girl know?

"I..." began Remus, "that is, I..."

"Oh do stop stuttering, Lupin," said Snape, sounding cheerful. "The man is understandably a little upset. After all, he doesn't know you were comatose until a few months ago."

Remus realized his mouth was open, and shut it with a snap. He looked from the girl, to her uncle, to Snape who, to Remus' amazement, had actually put on the green apron that had hung behind the door, had already put the tea on, and was busily washing the breakfast dishes.

"And just who are you?" demanded Gordon. "What are you doing here?"

Snape giggled, and Remus decided he had finally gone crazy. Snape just didn't do that sort of thing. Remus realized just what a great actor Snape really was. Snape was probably seething inside, and imagining murdering the newcomer in a number of unpleasant ways.

"Comatose?" stuttered Gordon. "Nobody ever told me anything about..."

Remus realized that standing in the middle of the room wearing a dazed expression wasn't making the best first impression. He smiled in an apologetic manner and said, "Yes, I was, for nearly eighteen years. A bit of a nasty shock it was for me, when I realized that half the people I knew had passed on, and that I'd missed my own graduation. When I got Ralf's letter, and realized I had a daughter, I had to at least try to take her in."

"Yes," said Snape, "he had been in a rather unfortunate motorcycle accident. I'm amazed he survived at all, and even the doctors didn't think he'd ever regain his consciousness."

"He'd never have let you have her," snapped Gordon, "if he didn't have to leave the country. And you still haven't told me just who you are."

"I'm Severus Snape," said Snape, rummaging about for some teacups. "I've been taking care of Remus for years. I assure you, if I'd known he had a daughter, or indeed, any relatives at all besides me, I would have done something."

Almost imperceptibly, Snape managed to catch Remus' eye for a second, and jerked his head towards the door. Taking this as a cue to leave the room, Remus turned to the girl and said, far more easily than he thought, "Come, Philomena, let's take your things up to your room."

He got out his wand and levitated the trunks with a quick "Mobiliimpedimenta," and he walked through the door, beckoning for the girl to follow him.

She walked with a type of serene grace, as though she was completely confident, and not in the least nervous. Remus knew enough about children to know it was an act, even without the emotion reading he'd got from the Wards.

He took her through the living room, and up the staircase, undoing the trap door. The luggage floated through first, and he hopped up into the loft second, before kneeling to give her a hand up. She took it, though she didn't seem to need it, and looked around.

"It's not a lot," he said, noticing her eyes flit over the bare room, "but I hadn't really had a lot of time to prepare, or..."

"Why did you lie to Uncle Gordon?" she asked quietly, turning back to face him. "You weren't sick. You were a wolf."

Remus blinked, and sighed. "Yes," he admitted, "I still am, sometimes, but..."

"It's all right," she said. "Uncle Ralf told me you had medicine now, which kept you safe, so I'm not worried. I just wondered why nobody ever tells Uncle Gordon the truth."

"I..." sad Remus, squatting awkwardly beside the girl to look into her face better, "you know about Magic? And how... some people can do it, and other people can't?"

She nodded. "Yes," she said seriously. "Uncle Ralf said that I could, and that you could, but that he and Uncle Gordon couldn't, butI wasn't to tell Uncle Gordon about it because he would think I was being silly."

"You see," said Remus, "people who... who can't do Magic, they don't... they don't really understand. They think we're insane, or that they're insane, or they try to make us do what they have in mind. Most people think that the less these people know about our world, the better."

Philomena was silent as she digested the information.

"I'll help you unpack," said Remus, opening the first trunk. "We'll find a place for all your things."

Philomena opened the second trunk. "Uncle Ralf said you knew lots of Magic," she said, "and that you'd teach me."

"Of course," said Remus casually, taking out a stack of folded shirts. "You should have started training a year ago. Unharnessed power is an extremely dangerous thing."

Philomena bit her lip, and began placing various articles of clothing into the dresser. Remus smelled her tension, and turned to smile warmly at her. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Do you miss your ... uncle?"

"It's not that," she said. "It's... is... is magic really hard?"

Remus grinned at her. "Not all of it," he answered lightly. "There's some that's really easy, so easy a baby could do it. And there's some of it so hard that I can't do it. Or even so hard that Dumbledore can't do it."

The child just stared at him, before answering slowly, "It's just that Uncle Ralf couldn't do it. It would have to to be very, hard for Uncle Ralf not to be able to do it. Uncle Ralf can do everything."

"I... haven't seen your Uncle Ralf in a long time," said Remus diplomatically. "What sort of things does he do?"

"He teaches me things," said Philomena blinking. "What else would he do?"

"What kind of things?" pressed Remus.

"Oh, he taught me to read, and to write," she rattled off. "To do maths, and some history, and biology, and geography, and geometry, a little bit of French, and Latin. I don't know why he wanted me to learn Latin, but he always just said it would help me later. He taught me some fighting, and he was going to start on fencing when I got big enough..."

"And when he's not teaching you?" prompted Remus.

"Then he isn't home, of course," she said simply. "He has business."

"He doesn't do anything else?" asked Remus. "He just teaches?"

"He has business," said Philomena. "Lots and lots of important business. It's so important, I'm not allowed to know what it is."

"What happens when he isn't there?" asked Remus, trying to keep bewilderment and anger out of his voice. "When he's ... on business?"

"Then I have to stay with Uncle Gordon," she said, "which isn't bad because I can play with Hanna and Sidney."

"Are they your... cousins?" hazarded Remus.

"Oh, no," she said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, "because Uncle Gordon isn't my uncle. I just call him that because I like him."

"Oh," said Remus, a bit nonplussed, starting to shelve the girl's numerous books.

"Do you have lots of business?" asked Philomena, tossing a box onto the bed. "What do you do?"

Remus smiled, easily. "I don't have a lot of business, no," he said, "and most of what I do, I do at home, in the laboratory downstairs. I make protective spells, against dark magic."

"Then you'll stay with me?" she asked, "You won't go away?"

"I won't ever leave you alone," he said seriously, "I promise."