Velvet Rouge avec Black Wine
Chapter 6: Blame
Disclaimer: Names and property rights of Harry Inc. are confined to Madam J.K Rowling.
Author's Notes: Sometimes you just sit there and think and the words don't come at all. Other times you're talking on the phone, cutting vegetables, and waiting for the pot to boil when inspiration strikes.
Was it you or me who made the first move?
The last?
The next few days Remus spent in bed were mostly uneventful.
True to his promise, Peter did stop by during his breaks to bring Remus' assignments. Though he may have been excused from classes, Remus' absence didn't give him a free pass to slack off.
Sirius too had insisted on staying and watching over him while he slept, but after Remus had caught the dark-haired boy staring at him when he woke up, Sirius made a point to leave whenever Remus showed any sign of drowsiness. He did, however, visit frequently, and would bring pictures and newspaper clippings to help alleviate the tedium that accompanied recovery.
"How's the patient feeling today?" Sirius asked, poking his head in the doorway.
"Bien. Much better," Remus said. His headache seemed to be fading while his cough had stopped drawing blood. All symptoms of a speedy recovery, in his opinion.
"I have a surprise for you," Sirius said, cheerfully plopping down on Remus' bed. He raked his fingers through his jet black hair as he grinned at the boy sitting beside him.
"I believe that's what you said last time," Remus said ruefully, as he moved to make room for the dark-haired boy. "If I remember correctly, that particular surprise was the reason I'm here now."
"You'll like this one," Sirius promised. "And it won't involve any physical exertion on your part."
"That's more like it." Remus smiled, contently propped up in his bed.
The dark haired boy pulled out his satchel and emptied its contents on the bed. Out spilled glossy black and white photographs filled with people smiling and chatting, while holding champagne flutes. One in particular caught Remus' eye.
"Is that you?" The light haired boy looked surprised. The picture was a close-up of Sirius grinning broadly and looking quite dashing in his dress shirt. The only thing that seemed to detract from the photography was that his eyes seemed to stray to the right, as if he were watching someone else besides the photographer.
Sirius puffed out his chest. "Came out quite well, if I do say so myself."
"Goodness, Monsieur Black," Remus admonished. "Are you always so terribly vain?"
"A necessary condition which invariably accompanies those who are absurdly good-looking."
"Absurd is certainly an apt description," Remus said wryly.
"Remus, you wound me," Sirius cried in mock distress, placing a hand over his heart. "And to think I had planned on allowing you to keep a photograph as a keepsake."
"Do you mean it? Any one I want?" Remus smiled delightedly as a warm glow seemed to suffuse his entire being. At the sight, Sirius felt himself smiling back and he resisted the urge to reach out and touch the younger boy for fear that warmth would disappear. Instead, he nodded encouragingly and watched as Remus rifled through the pile, searching for a particular picture. He discarded photo after photo until he reached the last. "I'd like this one, if you don't mind."
"Why that one?"
If Remus had heard the strained quality of Sirius' voice, he didn't acknowledge it. Instead, he delicately placed the photography of Gideon on the nightstand drawer and settled back in bed. "It will be perfect for the painting."
"You intend to use him as the subject of your exhibition piece?"
Remus shook his head, looking slightly puzzled at Sirius' expression. "Peter told me his birthday is only a few days away. I was hoping to finish a portrait of him before then, but I had nothing to use as a reference," he explained. "It would hardly be a surprise if I asked him to sit for me while I finished it in front of him."
"Peter talks too much," Sirius muttered darkly. To Remus he said, "And besides, you're not to do any strenuous work. Doctor's orders."
"Don't be ridiculous, I feel perfectly fine."
"I seem to recall hearing those exact words before," Sirius said coldly. "I think it was right before you collapsed."
His words were like a slap to the face, and Remus' eyes flashed angrily. But before he could make a scathing retort, there was a knock on the door.
"I hope I am not interrupting, gentlemen," Dumbledore said, with a touch of amusement as he entered the room. His periwinkle cloak swished charmingly behind him.
"Not at all, Headmaster," Remus shook his head, slightly embarrassed at the proximity between him and Sirius. He hadn't noticed how close they had gotten through their exchange. Their arms rested side by side while their knees touched ever so slightly. Remus blushed as he shifted away to a respectable distance. What a sight they must make!
"I commend you on your strict work ethic, Monsieur Lupin," Dumbledore smiled, looking at the pile of books perched on his nightstand. "But I must insist that you do not overexert yourself. It would be most unfortunate if you should suffer a relapse."
"No worries, Headmaster," Sirius said grimly, shooting a bitterly triumphant look at Remus. It seemed his earlier statement was on the mark after all. "I've been keeping a close eye on him."
Dumbledore hummed approvingly, seemingly oblivious to the tension that hung around the two boys. "Professor Essex has expressed concern over your health, and would like me to tell you that he is most eager to see what you have come up with as an exhibition piece."
Remus' eyes flitted guiltily to the far corner of his room, where the mess of paint and canvas had yet to be tidied. Would he ever have something to show Essex? The pounding in his head seemed to be returning with a vengeance. "Please send my regrets—"
"Of course," Dumbledore smiled. "Now, I shall take my leave and allow you to continue resting. Sirius, may I have a word with you in my office?"
The dark haired boy looked momentarily surprised before quickly nodding. Without a word of good-bye, he quickly gathered up the pictures strewed across the bed and grabbed his satchel. Remus felt as if he should say something before Sirius left, not wanting to part on bad terms, but the dark haired boy didn't even look back. The Headmaster nodded once again and they both left, chatting amicably about Alphard's latest party.
Watching them leave, Remus felt a certain amount of resentment from the other boy's abrupt departure. Really, the argument had been Sirius' fault to begin with. He was the one who insisted on treating the fair headed boy like a porcelain doll and quite frankly all this coddling was beginning to get wearing on Remus, who just wanted to be treated like everyone else.
"Funny, I thought you'd be feeling better by now."
Remus started at Peter's unexpected entrance. He wasn't really in the mood for company, but looking at the folder in Peter's hands, the other boy clearly had other thoughts. "Mais oui. I'm glad my confinement is almost at an end."
The short boy shrugged, pursing his lips. "I'd switch places with you any day if it would get me an extension on the Winter Exhibition. It's due next week, you know, and because of the limited space, each professor is only allowed to sponsor five students every year. So that means some students spend the entire semester preparing for a showcase that is given to someone else. Professor Essex has already chosen three: Aubrey Bertram, Dirk Cresswell, and Rodolphus Lestrange."
"Only two slots remain," Remus breathed, clutching his quilt tightly. A nervous sort of feeling had settled in the pit of his stomach at the thought of his uncompleted project.
"Of course you're favored to be selected," Peter added hastily. "Just yesterday I overheard Essex talking to one of the teaching assistants. You're supposed to be some kind of genius."
"Or something," Remus muttered to himself.
"Which was why I wanted to ask if you would take a look at the revisions I made to my earlier composition," Peter continued, when he saw Remus' thoughtful expression. His beady eyes shined with excitement. "What you said before about the lighting was spot-on. And if we work together, I just know we'll both be picked."
He looked so hopeful standing there that Remus didn't have the heart to tell him that Peter would probably be one of the unfortunate students who would be rejected in favor of another. His drafts were utterly plain and without individuality. At first glance, they looked to be copied straight from a student textbook, which Remus suspected was the primary source of Peter's inspiration. But instead of telling him so, the light haired boy smiled weakly and pointed out some minor flaws that still needed to be corrected.
A while later, James also stopped in to bring dinner and news of the outside world. The presence of Peter and James distracted Remus enough so that he didn't notice that Sirius hadn't returned until well after supper was over.
The next day, Remus awoke to find that his cough was all but cleared up, and that he was feeling more energetic than during all the days he had spent in bed. He decided that he was now well enough to return to classes, and decided to skip breakfast in the Dining Hall in order to complete a few sketches to present to Professor Essex. Before James had left the other night, he had hinted that Lucius, with his family's connections, was the favorite to be chosen to fill one of the slots.
As it was, Remus was at a huge disadvantage. He hoped that by catching Essex before class began, then perhaps he would be able to tip the scales in his favor, or at least impress the Professor with his work ethic. Perhaps then, if he wasn't chosen, he would still be able to take part in advanced studies.
Unfortunately, this similar train of thought must have been shared by the majority of the painter's division, for when Remus finally arrived in front of Essex's classroom, a huge crowd had already gathered outside, talking animatedly.
"…terrible, isn't it?"
"The Board of Governors won't be pleased…"
"…wonder if the papers have gotten wind of this yet…"
Remus, puzzled at the furious whispering, tapped a student next to him. "Excuse me, has something happened?"
"Haven't you heard?" the boy asked him a breathless expression. "Someone broke into Essex's classroom and tore it apart. Easels upturned, paint bottles upset. It's all a frightful mess."
Remus' eyes widened at the news. "Have they caught the culprit?"
"No," the boy shook his head. "The person responsible didn't leave anything incriminating behind, but the teachers reckon that a student from the painting division is responsible. They're pulling aside all the students that Essex had rejected from participating in the Winter Exhibition for questioning. Times like these I'm happy I'm a sculptor." The boy shook his head and went back to talking with his friend.
Feeling faint, Remus started walking unsteadily back to his room, ignoring the whispers and sideways looks he was receiving. Despite the loud conversations everyone was engaged in, Remus could hear faint whispers of "Frenchman" and "Foreigner" scattered throughout. The light haired boy could feel himself turning pale. Suddenly Remus wasn't feeling very well at all. In fact, he felt absolutely sick to his stomach.
That evening, the Student Council was convened. Originally created to regulate inter-House affairs, the Student Council served as a liaison between the student body and the Board of Governors. It brought up matters the students of each House deemed important, and acted as an unofficial court to which students are able to bring forth minor grievances and petty disputes to be judged by peers.
Traditionally, each House was allowed three representatives, who were elected by popular vote. Four divisions present included the painter's, sculptor's, jeweler's, and print-maker's division. However, since the painter's division was made up of over three-fifths of the student population, there was protest for them to be allotted more council members. Leading the protest was Lucius Malfoy, who many considered to be the head representative of the painter's division.
When the motion for proportional representation was passed, James was disgusted to note that while the other Houses' representatives were reduced, the painter's division was practically doubled. Armed with five representatives, the painter's division was granted more clout in student affairs—their cases brought forth quickly, while the judgments more generous. None of the other Houses were able to do much unless they banded together to overrule Lucius, which was difficult to do in a consistent manner, as long-standing quarrels between the Houses kept them from forming a permanent alliance.
James crossed his hands and shot a glare at Lucius Malfoy, who he could see sitting in his chair regally, regarding everyone else with a disdain in his ice blue eyes. His cronies from the painter's division sat close by, whispering amongst themselves. The print-maker's representatives, Orson and Catwell, sat across from him seemingly bored. Inter-House affairs that did not concern members of their House usually held little interest for them. On James' left sat Sirius, twirling his Academy ring absently, the silver winking in the candlelight.
His friend had been oddly quiet all evening and when James pressed him for a reason, Sirius just shook his head and continued twiddling with his ring. This only exasperated James even more as it was clear that his best friend was sulking and if his suspicions were correct, a certain fair headed boy was the likely culprit.
"The Student Council Meeting will now come to order," McNair intoned, pounding a slim gavel. There was a scraping of chairs as the representatives took their seats. The previous hum of furious whispering quieted as Lucius stood to take the floor.
"The Council may already know of the incident which occurred today, but I wish to summarize for the benefit of those who may not have been present to receive a first-hand account," Lucius announced, nodding to the two representatives of the jeweler's division who had been away at a workshop. They had returned immediately upon receiving the Council's emergency summons. "Professor Essex, an esteemed member of the Academy's faculty, has been targeted by a member of the student body. His classroom and the connecting office have been brutally vandalized by what teachers surmise is the work of one individual. Nothing has been stolen, which rules out a simple burglary. However, because of the violent nature of this incident, it cannot be written off as a simple prank. The Headmaster and the other division heads are in the midst of interrogating several prime suspects, who they believe may have felt slighted by Professor Essex's decision to exclude them from the upcoming exhibition."
"Have we ruled out the possibility a saboteur from the outside?" Bode, from the jeweler's division, asked curiously. "Perhaps a rival art salon?"
"The servants, along with the Groundskeeper, Master Filch, have been questioned as to what they observed the night before," James interjected. "There have been no strangers reported on school grounds. As for the visitors, Headmaster Dumbledore has already assured me that we will not find the perpetrator among them. However, several students were seen skulking around after hours. I have compiled a list with their names and House affiliation and given it to the Headmaster." He passed around copies of the list for each representative.
"Your list seems to be incomplete, Potter," Lucius drawled. He looked up from the parchment in his hands and tapped it imperiously. "I do not see the name Remus Lupin on this list of potential suspects."
"Until just today, Remus Lupin had been incapacitated with a serious illness which forced him to stay bedridden," Sirius said coldly. "This fact can be confirmed by the Headmaster, who approved his absence from class. Do we have reason to believe otherwise, Malfoy?"
"It may be prudent to note that this type of tasteless incident has never before occurred at the Royal Academy and that the only recent change is the addition of Master Lupin." The last part was spat with disdain.
"What physical evidence do you submit to support this slanderous accusation?" Sirius glared at his arch-nemesis with balled fists clenched tightly by his side. He could see James trying to catch his eye, but he ignored his friend in favor of staring down the poisonous viper in front of him.
"None whatsoever," Lucius said calmly. He seemed to be amused at getting a rise out of Sirius. "I am merely speculating, as we all are."
The Council erupted with a flurry of whispers, as they began discussing the possibility of Remus being the perpetrator. Some acknowledged that the fair-headed boy had been recently ill, while others conveniently forgot about his incapacitation and expressed an outright distrust of Remus and his French heritage. Truly there was no love lost between the two nations.
"Furthermore, I see no reason why ceramics-makers see the need to involve themselves with the affairs of the painter's division," Lucius said coldly to James. "This is an intra-House matter and should be settled as such."
"The level hatred and anger of capable of such vandalism concerns the entire Academy, Councilman Malfoy," James said, his hazel eyes flashing. "For though the school is divided into different Houses, we share common goals, which are placed in jeopardy should news of this occurrence become public knowledge."
"Which is why," Lucius interrupted. "The Headmaster, along with several members of the faculty, has asked the Student Council to form an Investigation Board to make queries into this matter, and to hopefully, catch the culprit behind it."
"And the members of this Board," Councilman Shacklebolt, another representative of the sculptor's division, frowned. "I presume they will be chosen by you, Malfoy?"
"Who else did you have in mind?" Lucius sneered. "Certainly not the entire Student Council. It would take far too long to vote on every member that is to be appointed to the Investigation Board, and making it a school-wide assembly is hardly a feasible alternative. As you have just said, this matter should be looked into with the utmost secrecy and discretion as to avoid becoming fodder for the morning paper."
"What shall happen once the Investigation Board has found the person responsible?" Sturgis Podmore's voice cut in curiously.
"The culprit will be promptly expelled and escorted off the grounds, of course," Lucius said with an arched eyebrow, as if this was the most obvious answer. "In addition, he will be heavily fined the cost of repairs and if he is unable to compensate the school, his sentence will be forfeit to the mercy of the English court."
"You would send a student of the Academy to suffer the dungeons of Azkaban?"
"You seem to forget, Potter, the enormity of this offense," Lucius said with a hard look in his eye. He ignored the whispers of the other council members. "If we are to prevent such acts of vandalism from happening again, the person responsible for this terrible act must be made an example of. This will send a message to all other potential perpetrators that blatant disregard for school property will not be tolerated."
"Then I propose that the Council also create a Review Board composed of a representative from each House to oversee the inquiries made by the Investigation Board," Sirius declared and was pleased at the look of sour dissatisfaction on Lucius' face. "And I would like to nominate myself to represent the painter's division."