CHAPTER 11
Sherlock was quietly playing his violin by softly plucking the strings. He was nestled into one corner of the couch, John laying beside him with his head in the detective's lap.
They were waiting to hear from Albus. Sherlock, thought he would never admit it aloud, was vaguely concerned. John's eyebrows seemed to be permanently stuck in a worried tilt.
And yet, there was something intolerable about the way they conducted themselves.
And yet, there was something intolerable about the way they conducted themselves.
And yet, there was something intolerable about the way they conducted themselves.
Phin dropped the book with a thud to the floor and groaned. Once you'd been reading the same sentence over and over, it was time to give up.
He uncurled his long legs from the pouch of Sherlock's armchair and sighed.
Ugh. This was bloody insanity. This was completely-
WHOOSH.
Oh, bugger...
Phin glanced over at the fireplace automatically and watched with widened eyes as four figures came zooming out.
"Gr... grandad?"
Once the swirling flames ceased, Remus brushed ash from his coat and glanced around until his eyes rested on Phin.
"Ah. Hello, Phineas."
He gave the two men on the couch a glance and approached them, extending a hand and ignoring James and Sirius.
"Hello. My name is Remus Lupin. I am Phineas' grandfather. You have a lovely flat." He gave them a warm smile.
The two men looked up at the older man before them. John sat up quickly and stood, shaking Remus' hand. "John Watson."
Sherlock, still sitting, blinked. "Sherlock Holmes."
John didn't need to look to see that Sherlock was figuring out the three newcomers' lives. He glanced at the man and said, "Stop it."
The detective rolled his eyes, deciding to sulk and go back to plucking the violin's strings.
John smiled at Remus, and the darker haired men. "And you two are..."
"This is my Granpa James and my Uncle Sirius. But I call them Prongs and Padfoot, and I call Remy Moony. They went to school together." The little boy grinned when Prongs ruffled his hair. "And they call me Bambi."
The elder Potter pushed his glasses up his nose, picking his grandson up and cuddling him. "Well, what else would we call you? You're my little fawn. You should come over and play with us sometime. It's been ages since you ran with Paddy and me!"
"I know, Prongs, I've just been...well, not busy - except for the past day or two. So I'll come by soon! I miss being able to run faster."
"Well, how about you and me go get started on the wards. I can teach ya some things." James carried Albus out of the living room and down to the ground floor, chatting happily with his grandson.
Sirius grinned, then turned to Sherlock and John. "I'm Phin's other grandfather. And we're here to put some wards around your place. Bambi thinks you need them."
Phin snorted.
"How amateur I seem now. 'We're here to ward your flat...' Welcome, everyone."
John blinked. "Wards?"
"I assume they mean magical barriers around the flat."
Sirius nodded. "Pretty much."
Phin stood up to shake Remus' hand.
The gesture seemed forced. Possibly a bit awkward. Phin gave a weak attempt at a warm smile.
Remus shook Phin's hand, his face grim.
Even those with a human sense of smell could detect the tension between them.
For a few seconds, they were both silent. Then Remus spoke up.
"Albus has updated me on the situation here..."
Phin nodded. "Yeah... glad you're here. Small comfort in numbers, eh?"
He gave the man another half-hearted smile, and Remus understood what unspoken exchange was passing between them.
He watched Phin grin madly and greet his other grandfather.
"Wotcher, Sirius."
Sirius grabbed his grandson and gave him a manly hug before forcing the young man down and rubbing his knuckles on his head, barking out his laughter. "Wotcher, Phin! Now, come on, tell me what's going on!"
Phin grinned widely at him and flattened his rumpled hair with his hand.
"Oh, you know. Running around London, fucking my flatmates, smoking myself into a trace. The usual."
He tapped an unlit fag rhythmically on the arm of the chair he was sitting in, giving his granddad a tiny smirk.
"Shagging your flatmates, eh? I still think I shagged more people at school than you. Before I dated your grandmother, that is. Oh, wonderful, wonderful times..."
Remus watched the exchange between Sirius and Phin, feeling a tiny pang in his stomach.
If it were ever possible to have that kind of relationship with his grandson...
Sherlock studied Remus once more, but was distracted when Albus came running up to him.
"Mr. Holmes! Mr. Ho-"
"Sherlock."
Albus blinked. "Err...Sherlock, I snitched some files from my Dad's study for you. They're copies. I charmed them to update whenever the originals get updated." He pulled the shrunken files from his pocket and returned them to their original sizes with a wave of his wand and handed them to his mentor.
Then he fished in his pocket again and pulled out the tupperware with the finger in it. "Also...I, er," he took a deep breath and said as fast as he could, "I was attacked when I left. I apparated - which is, in science-y, muggle terms, sorta pinching two spots on the world together and punching a hole through so you can travel through space and time in an instant - and right as I apparated away, a werewolf attacked me. Their finger went through and got cut off when the spell ended. So I saved it for you to look at."
Sherlock ignored the bit of fear on Albus' behalf in his stomach and focused on examining the finger.
With a side glance at the other men in the room, Albus scurried away, hoping to avoid the worst of the freak out. He sorta forgot to tell Moony that bit...
"WHAT?" Sirius' head whipped to look at Albus as the boy scampered away, face a mix of awe, relief, and panic.
Phin blinked.
What an incredible stroke of luck...
It was frightening to think that Albus could possibly have escaped death by so fine a hair. He shivered a bit, his stomach clenching at the thought of Albus, as dead as that girl...
He pushed the thought away as his grandfather leapt to his feet to follow the twelve-year-old.
Oh, come on!
"WHAT."
In mere seconds, Remus had cut Albus off. His face was a frightening mask of calm.
"You were attacked?"
"Err..."
John, ever the doctor, rushed over to Albus and knelt checking him over. "Are you alright?"
Suddenly Albus was facing Dr. Wa- John. He was facing John, and he nodded frantically. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I mean, I threw up at ho- Potter Manor...when I saw the finger. I think...well, I've been reading Mr. H- Sherlock's case files, and I think the adrenaline and relief was too much for my body and it expelled what was in my stomach. But yeah, no, they didn't touch me. I just...I didn't want you to worry, Moony!" Now he looked back up at the older werewolf. "I'm sorry."
James came back up the stairs to start warding the first floor. "Hey, Pads, Moony, you should probably check over the wards and make sure they're solid." He blinked at the sight of John turning his grandson's face away from Remus to check his face. "What's going on?"
"Oh, nothing Prongs. Just that Bambi was almost werewolf chow. If he hadn't apparated away he'd be shredded in some back alley. Really, Bambi!"
James gaped at Sirius then at Albus. "What were you doing near a werewolf?" Then he blinked in confusion. "But...it's a half-moon..."
Phin gave James a weak smile. He turned back to Remus and shook his shoulder.
"Come off it Moony. The last thing we need is anyone changing here. Al's fine now. Give him space."
He pushed his grandfather out of the way gently and knelt down beside Albus and John, knowing that too much excitement was the last thing the boy needed after that.
Phin's eyes were surprisingly heartfelt as he whispered "You okay?" to his smaller friend.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, Phin. I'm just trying not to think about it. If I don't really think about it and just keep my clinical filters up, it's like watching crime shows on the telly. But better."
Remus rubbed his temples.
What was going on? He'd felt something for a moment there, some unchecked rage that threatened to boil over.
He'd almost felt the wolf take control.
He forced himself to calm down, promising himself that he wouldn't let it happen.
Remus watched Phin and Albus exchange words for a moment and then confronted the... what was it Albus had said? Consulting detective?
He gave Sherlock a tired smile.
"I'm sorry, but do you have anything I could drink? Tea, perhaps? Hot chocolate?"
Maybe it was a little rude, but he needed to calm himself down.
Sherlock's eyes flicked up before returning to the finger, examining the state of the cuticles and nail. "Help yourself."
"Oh God, no. Sherlock, not everyone is me and can handle opening the fridge to find a severed head." John stood and looked at Remus. "We only have tea, if that's okay." When Remus didn't answer, John shrugged and went into the kitchen, setting about boiling water.
Albus' head snapped to John, following the man with his wide eyes. "A severed head in the fridge? Really? Can I see?" He scampered into the kitchen, emitting a loud, "Whoa, cool!"
James waved a hand. "Wait, back up. Alright, first I want to know why there's a severed head in the fridge -"
"This time I'm measuring the rate at which the hair will continue to grow when kept chilled."
"Wha...nevermind. Second, what the hell is going on with the werewolves changing? I mean, that one time..." James carefully stopped himself from saying more or looking at Remus. "Anyways, you know more than we do, so what the bloody hell is going on?" His hazel eyes glanced back and forth between John, Albus, Phin, and Sherlock.
Sirius nodded. "I want in."
Phin gave the older men a frown.
"Sirius, I don't know about that...no... actually, I think you're both perfect for this. You know... if the old limbs are up for it..." He gave Sirius and James a big, sly grin.
Giving his grandfather a hesitant look, Phin spoke up.
"And... we could really use your help too, Remus..."
Remus leaned against the sitting room wall, observing the conversation.
"Of course. It is always my concern when strange things are happening to werewolves." He gave Albus a sidelong glance. "I am concerned, however, for some members of this party..."
Sherlock on the other hand placed the finger back into the tupperware and picked up the files. He browsed through the files of the werewolves. Before Albus, James, or Sirius could quarrel with Remus or Phin, the detective spoke up.
"You're a werewolf." He held the files out to Remus. "Do you know any of them?"
Sirius looked awed and wary. "How...how did you know?"
Sherlock turned to the file on all the attacks, muggle and wizarding. "He and Phin share a similar, though much more pleasant, scent with the werewolf that kidnapped Phin. There is also a very animalistic tension between him and Phin. You and James have skirted delicately around the subject, and hinted that he has changed outside of the full moon. However, while Phin is incredibly comfortable with who he is, Remus is not. He does not like being a werewolf and views himself as a monster."
The man stopped reading the file to turn his cat-like blue eyes up to Remus. "Monsters do not exist, Remus. And if they did, a man like you would never be one. So put such inane and silly thoughts out of your head."
Then he turned back to absorbing the information before him.
John came back into the living room with the tea and a half-apologetic, half-exasperated smile for the older werewolf. "He's like that all the time. You get used to not having many secrets around him." He pushed the cup into Remus' hands. "If you need more sugar or cream, tell me."
Albus came back in and turned his grinning face up to Prongs. "Isn't it amazing what he does? He's taking me on as an apprentice."
"Is that so?" James ruffled Albus' hair. "But...so there have been other werewolves changing?"
His grandson nodded. "Dad's been on the case for a while. There have been accidental changes when the person is emotionally strained, but there's a pack here that has learned to change on command and has been attacking muggles and wizards."
Sirius whistled. "Merlin's left nut, that's a scary thought." He turned to Phin. "Have you changed on accident?"
Phin shook his head at Sirius, his brow furrowing.
"No, I haven't, but..." he shared a slightly worried look with Albus. "I came very close once."
He glanced over at his other granddad, now having received the Sherlock treatment.
He wondered how well he would take it.
Remus accepted the cup from John without a word. He gave the man a small smile, thinking.
Monsters do not exist, Remus. And if they did, a man like you would never be one.
It was rather a shock to hear your current situation spurted back at you from an uninformed stranger. He was startled, to say the least, by the way he appeared to live his life. Shamed, even.
He watched Phin converse with Sirius. Could it really be that easy? To just accept the constant pain and suffering and unknown and get on with life?
Maybe, for the lives at stake, I'm going to have to try...
Sherlock set aside the file; he already knew most of the information.
He picked up the file on Derek Argent. About ten seconds later, he was throwing the file down and standing. He threw his coat on and while tying his scarf around his neck, he said, "John, Albus, Phin. I have a lead. Others...come if you can help."
And then, with John tugging his coat on while following, he was out and down the stairs.
The twelve year old scrambled after the two, grinning like a loon.
James and Sirius threw each other a look, and then looked at Remus.
With matching grins, the two pranksters raced each other out of the flat, shouting and pushing each other.
Phin shook his head in disbelief and quickly pulled on his coat and slung his bag across his shoulder.
Blimey, Sherlock worked fast.
He followed the large group out the door, but hung back when he saw his grandfather fall behind. He put a hand on his arm, noting how deep in thought the man was.
"Alright, Remus?"
Remus jumped slightly at the touch of the dark-haired boy. He looked at his grandson and smiled grimly.
"Just thinking. I cannot fathom the danger of our situation."
Phin nodded, looking down.
"I know... but, hey. Sherlock says he has a lead, so that's a good thing."
Remus watched the boy smile, pat him on the arm again, and trot off to talk to Sherlock.
Hmm...
He lengthened his stride to keep pace with the group.