He casually sat on an old park bench across from the arched entrance of the Bodleian Library. His legs where crossed at the knee as he leisurely leaned back with his elbow resting on the rear of the wooden seat. An open copy of the London Times was held in his hands, but his eyes belied his reading it as they shifted guardedly from under his sandy brown fringe of hair. He watched, waiting patiently, as people passed by him. Patience was something he had in abundance. Life had not been easy and, of his twenty-five years of existence, it had made him appear much older, the hardships having taken their toll. His worn and out-of-date sport jacket and trousers told of another chapter of his life. He was a poor man but not one of desperate means. He did the best he could under the circumstances.
The bells of the Church of St. Mary the Virgin sounded the hour, scattering the pigeons roosting in the tower. The man's head rose from the paper, scanned the area, and then he looked at his watch. It was six o'clock, dinnertime, and his stomach was beginning to growl. Scanning the area again, he sighed heavily, and resumed reading. His mentor and friend had suggested this meeting, but he was not confident of its success. He faced new challenges each month. How could this person change things? But, his mentor had been persuasive and encouraged him to give it a chance. At least he seemed hopeful.
I stood in the shadow of the archway of the Bodleian Library, watching, uncertain of what to do. I had planned this moment in my head and gone over many scenarios of how it would play out. Now, I wasn't sure. It had been so long since we'd seen each other, and so much had happened. As far as he was concerned, I no longer existed. Life went on, and I wasn't a known part of his. I had lived and still lived a life of secrecy. But, he was special, a page from my red file folder: my folder of aspirations and dreams. I continued to watch.
The late April sun was beginning to set, and the shadows grew long across the pavement. It's now or never, I thought. Straightening to my full height, which wasn't much at five and a half feet, and running a nervous hand through my short, light brown hair, I looked at my reflection in the window. I'd lost a lot of weight over the past year and a half, too much stress in my life being the factor, but I had to admit, as I regarded the reflection, I looked good in the tight burgundy turtleneck jumper and black jeans. Satisfied with my appearance, I took a deep, cleansing breath, and strode down the path, walking with mock confidence toward the bench. With my Vagueness Charm fully in place, I approached the man reading the paper.
"Mr. Lupin, good evening." My heavy Italian accent had softened with the constant use and exposure to English. I extended my hand in greeting, feeling the palm beginning to sweat. "I'm Daniella Di Marco."
Remus Lupin lifted his head from the newspaper and examined me politely. His mentor, Albus Dumbledore, had advised him to meet a young Graduate student at the University of Oxford. This student, although a witch, was studying Muggle medicine in hopes of discovering a cure for lycanthrope. Somehow, I don't think I was what he expected.
He stood, tucked the newspaper under his arm, and extended his hand, a slight blush colouring his neck and pale cheeks as he smiled. He looked drawn and tired.
"Miss Di Marco, thank you for meeting with me," he said with quiet apprehension.
I smiled in return, remembering a young Remus' smile from school. How shy he was then, too, how afraid and insecure as well. It didn't seem like much had changed.
"Headmaster Dumbledore sent a letter explaining your condition," I began. "I hope that we can find a successful treatment. I understand that you've worked with Mr. Belby before but stopped. May I ask why?" I tried to sound professional.
"The trials weren't working, and with the war on, well, other things seemed more important," he said politely but uncomfortably. He quickly turned the tables. "The Headmaster said that you're a Potions Mistress and worked for the Italian Ministry. No offence, but I was expecting someone older," he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
I chuckled lightly. "I thought so. You looked surprised when you saw me. Rest assured, I am a fully qualified Potions Mistress and, yes, I've worked in the Experimental and Medicinal Potions Lab at the Italian Ministry of Magic. I had an interest in lycanthrope and a theory that required the study of certain topics in Muggle medicine. My Ministry encouraged the studies and, I think that between Mr. Belby's and my combined skills and research, we can produce an effective treatment for this condition. I don't guarantee a cure, but I believe that we can lessen the effects."
I could see a look of both hope and doubt mixed in those soft grey eyes. I wanted to reassure him that I would do my best, but before I could speak his stomach growled loudly, and he looked away.
"Was that mine or yours?" I chuckled, placing my hand on my stomach, knowing it was his but trying to ease his embarrassment. "I missed lunch today."
He smiled, examining his shoes, then looked up at me through that fringe. "Me too. Shall we go grab a bite and discuss this further?"
I nodded, and we walked a path out of the learning centre and down High Street where many pubs and shops lined the busy throughway. Surely, we could find a quiet corner somewhere to talk.
The Hobgoblin on St. Aldates Street, just south of High, was quiet for a Tuesday evening, and we easily found a table in a corner away from the other patrons. Ordering dinner, we sat in the awkward silence of two strangers needing to get acquainted.
"Mr. Lupin," I ventured uneasily. "What do you do for a living?"
"Not much I'm afraid. I worked for Headmaster Dumbledore for a while, but there's not much need for my services at the moment." He shifted uncomfortably, and I assumed from his turning his head away with a frown that I had hit a sore spot.
"Good, then, you have time to spend with me?" I playfully winked at him with a flirtatious smile to lighten the mood.
His lips twitched into a small smirk as he turned back to the table. "Yup, I'm all yours."
Through the simple pub fare, we talked about all sorts of things: his days in school, my life in Italy, his work with Dumbledore, my work at the Ministry, Belby's research, my studies at Oxford, and our hopes for finding a treatment. I would receive my Masters in Science in two months and had already been accepted into the Doctorate program with a thesis on Dysfunctions of the Intracellular Transmitting Systems. This was the theory that I hoped would lead to a breakthrough in the lycanthrope research. Belby and I had been working together on a regular basis since the thesis was accepted, and we had begun to blend his old research with the new hypothesis. So far, it looked promising.
By the time dinner was over, we were laughing like old friends, how ironic. Remus seemed duly impressed by my qualifications, and we seemed to be compatible. This would prove necessary in future studies as there would come a time when we would have to stay in close proximity in order to examine the changes in the week prior to, during, and after the full moon. Trust would be an issue. I had only seen a werewolf once and that had been Remus during my last month at Hogwarts, so many years ago. He may not remember, but I did. He didn't cross the line of my circle. He didn't hurt me, although he had the opportunity. That would be a major factor that would keep me safe.
End of term reports were due. Exams were fast approaching. Professors Cornwall and Kurtz met with me to discuss and plan the research for my doctorate. The work with Belby and Remus had begun and was progressing slowly but well. Albus had made a request for me to go to the south of France during Easter break to investigate a lead on Voldemort. Everything seemed to be on the move.
As I stumbled toward my room one evening in mid-May, after a long day in the lab, I sensed that the wards had been disturbed, not violently, but disturbed nevertheless. Shaking my wand down my sleeve and into my hand, I tested the security. It seemed fine, and I became puzzled. Cautiously opening the door, I was struck by an odd odour. Covering my mouth and nose quickly with my free hand, I ventured in guardedly, wand at the ready. Nothing appeared out of place, but the smell infiltrated my nostrils. It was something familiar, from long ago, it seemed. Scanning the room, I sensed no other force, magical or otherwise, however, I did discover the source of the odour. The table/desk near the bathroom was set for dinner. The aroma of roast beef with mashed potatoes and gravy with fresh peas and baby carrots wafted through the room. A small side salad was to the right and a fruit cobbler was to the left for dessert. My mouth watered. I hadn't had a descent meal like this in ages. As a matter of fact, I couldn't remember the last meal I had eaten. It was possibly the one that I had when I first met with Remus and that was weeks ago. I called out, thinking that maybe Emily had somehow gotten in and brought the dinner. After all, she had complained recently about how thin I was becoming, and Colin was worried that I would end up with malnutrition. No one answered. Slowly approaching the table, I ran my finger around the edge of the plate, casting a spell to analyse the contents for poisons or foreign substances. Nothing, and I had a large repertoire to choose from. Puzzled, I sat at the table and let my senses take over. I didn't realize just how hungry I was. The meal was delicious.
For the following week, when I returned to my room in the evening, a meal would be set: roast pork with garlic potatoes, pepper gravy, corn and green beans; chicken with dumplings and mixed vegetables; lasagna with caesar salad; each one as delectable as the next with a luscious dessert. I certainly appreciated my benefactor but was concerned as to their motive. I still cast a testing spell on each meal prior to eating but never found anything wrong. I had asked Emily if she knew anything about it, and she had no idea but was pleased that someone was looking out for me.
During the second week, the routine began to change. Not only was dinner being served, but as I got out of the shower in the morning, I would find a fresh fruit platter, a plate of toast and muffins and a pot of tea ready and waiting. Someone was getting into the room while I was there. That was unnerving, so I decided to set a trap. The following morning, I went into the bathroom, turned on the shower and stood by the door, waiting; all energies alert. A light 'pop' of Apparition sounded a few moments later, and there was a slight shuffle of food being left. I opened the door a crack.
"You?" I exclaimed quietly, not wanting to startle my benefactor who was holding a hot pot of tea.
Eyes widened in surprise as the pot was nervously set on the table.
"Why?" I sputtered.
"Because Mistress is needin' looking after. Mistress is not eating and is getting sick." Pinky's ears were nearly scarlet, and she shook from head to toe, tears beginning to form in her bulbous eyes. "I is not wanting Mistress to get sick."
A flick of my hand turned the shower off, and I moved into the bedroom.
"How did you know that I wasn't eating?" I was curious to know if she had been watching me.
"Mistress is very thin and pale at Yule. Pinky listens to what others is saying, too. They is saying that Mistress works too hard. Head Master says Pinky can look after Mistress if it is to your pleasing." Pinky bowed low and didn't rise.
I moved to the little house elf and gathered her into a hug.
"Thank you, Pinky. I very much appreciate your efforts and care."
Pinky blushed deeply, tears now flowing freely.
The following two weeks were the best I had had in a long time. It was like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I began eating regular meals, and people were beginning to notice the healthy glow return to my face. Pinky was a delightful companion as well as an excellent cook, and now, I felt free to focus more clearly on my studies.
Friday ended a very hard week of exams and labs. Today's four-hour lab was brutal, and I took every moment to review my work. I was doing it the Muggle way, no magic, and this particular professor was very specific about procedure. He liked things "his" way: no creativity, no exploration of possibilities, nothing but regurgitated information from his books and notes. I was glad to finally finish this course. It was stifling.
As I exited the lab and ambled my way down the corridor, a tall brunette approached from the opposite direction, extending a Styrofoam cup of tea, stopping me.
"Tough one, wasn't it?" she began, taking a sip from her own cup. She had left the exam about half an hour earlier.
I nodded silently, shifting my rucksack higher on my shoulder and balancing the tea with the other hand. Together, we slowly walk toward the exit, heading back to the dorms.
"Colin's exam doesn't end for another hour. We're going to head to the pub tonight. Want to come?" she invited.
"Actually, that sounds good," I replied with a sigh and a tired smile.
Emily's eyes grew wide with surprise. "You mean I don't have to twist your arm? Are you feeling alright?" she joked trying to feel my forehead with the back of her hand.
I playfully brushed her away, continuing the pace.
"Okay, what's his name, and does Russell know? I know you said that you two are "just friends", but he's got a thing for you." She confided with a tilt of her head.
"What's whose name?" I asked, turning to look at my friend as we reached the residence door.
"Oh, please. The smile, the glow, I swear there's even a bounce to your step. It has to be a man," she insisted, and then gasped, wide-eyed. "Are you back with him? Are you two together again? Oh, Daniella…" she gushed, but I raised my hand to stop her.
"No, we're not back together. I just seem to have my life back on track, and it feels good to be coming to the end of this part of my studies. I can't wait to get on with a more independent work."
"Work, work, work. That's all you do." She waved her free hand in the air, and shook her head, not totally convinced of what I had said.
As we climbed the stairs of the residence to our floor, Emily came to an abrupt halt, and I almost ran into her.
"Want to change your story?" she asked with a mischievous grin, turning to me then looking back down the corridor.
My forehead creased in puzzlement as I looked past her and down the hall.
Remus. At my door. Oh, Goddess! I blushed three shades of red and cleared my throat nervously.
"Hmmm," Emily watched my reaction with amusement. "So "what's whose name?"" she teased.
As we walked the length of the corridor, Remus' head rose and turned our way. A small smile flickered across his features.
"Mmm, cute," Emily directed toward me under her breath. I just shook my head at her.
"Umm, sorry for coming unannounced. I needed to speak with you," Remus said quietly.
"You're welcome anytime," I assured. "Emily, this is Remus. Remus, Emily," I introduced.
"Remus? Interesting name." She grinned at the young man, and then turned to me. "I'll understand completely if you don't show up tonight." She winked and turned to resume the path to her room. "Nice to meet you, Remus," she singsonged over her shoulder with a smirk.
"You had plans," Remus apologized.
"Nothing major and nothing that can't include you, if you want to join us. It's just a few people going to the Red Lion. It's been a tough week," I explained. "And, it won't be for a while. Her "significant other" is still in an exam."
"It must be hard trying to balance it all."
"Sometimes." I looked around as a few other students were returning to the dorm. "Want to come in? I'd rather not have people hear our conversation."
He nodded shyly as I released the wards and entered the room. His eyes quickly scanned the sparse chamber. Pinky had been there earlier and had tidied up, thank goodness. I seem to recall leaving a few unmentionables laying around. Remus sat on the padded chair near the table.
"Can I get you something to eat or drink?" I offered, knowing that he didn't eat regularly.
"I don't want to be any trouble," he replied softly.
I shook my head at him with a scolding smile and a platter of small sandwiches, pate, crackers and cheese, and a pot of steaming tea magically appeared on the table.
"That was fast," he looked surprised.
"I have a little help," I answered with a grin, silently praising Pinky.
Remus' visit had to do with his uneasiness with Belby and his preference to work primarily with me. His past experience had not been good, but he was willing to try again: anything to work for a cure, but Belby's attitude was grating and difficult for him to deal with. Remus understood that I was swamped with work at the moment but reiterated that he would rather work with Belby only in my presence. I agreed to his request, explaining that my exams should be over soon, and reassured him that I would deal with Belby should there be repercussions. I didn't want to lose Remus for the study, but I also didn't want a friend to be uncomfortable.
The tray of food slowly disappeared as we nibbled at it and chatted easily. Remus began to relax. His smile was shy and that fringe of sandy brown hair kept falling into his eyes. I found myself smiling at the slightest things, feeling truly comfortable.
By seven o'clock, we gathered our coats and headed for the Red Lion to join the others. At first, he began to draw back, not wanting to intrude. We were all students sharing a common experience of final exams. He was an unemployed wizard with nothing in common with any of us, yet I coaxed him to join me anyway.
Entering the pub and heading to the usual spot, I was greeted by a few contemporaries. Reaching the customary table, all heads turned as Remus and I approached. Emily grinned broadly as she nudged Colin who glanced sideways at the tall, burly, dark-haired man who sat with them. As we stopped at the table, the dark-haired man rose, puffing himself to his full size, as a bear would do when confronting an adversary. He extended his calloused hand formally in introduction.
"I'm Russell," he said with a deep, serious voice, taking Remus' hand firmly in his grip.
"Pleased to meet you," my old friend replied, pleasantly. "I'm Remus." He was obviously returning the handshake with equal force.
Men!
