Chapter 14 – Mischief
Friday evening was spent in what might have been the most interminable staff meeting in the history of the universe, at the end of which Amelia headed off in search of her cousin and Remus decided to accompany Hagrid to the Three Broomsticks for a bit of a wind down.
They spent a pleasant half hour discussing the merits of a Dragon breeding program that had recently begun in Wales, before Hagrid wandered off to talk with some friends at the bar and left Remus alone with his drink. The pub was by this point packed with local witches and wizards, so it wasn't long before Remus's thoughts were intruded upon by another drinker.
"May I join you?" Severus asked, with little enthusiasm. "Everywhere else is taken."
Remus, less than thrilled himself, nodded curtly and eyed up his drink; he could probably be out of there in twenty minutes if he drank relatively quickly – though not quick enough to appear impolite. Twenty minutes of silent brooding across from Severus Snape didn't really appeal… perhaps I could down it… he thought, with little hope. Though he'd always been able to keep up with James and Sirius, he tended to end up in truly bizarre situations when he drank heavily.
Unbidden, memories of waking up in a fountain after James's stag party bubbled to the surface; he'd never been able to remember the previous evening in full detail, but he was relatively certain that singing on tables and doing some ridiculous rock dance with Sirius had been involved. James, of course, was suitable attired in nothing but a tutu and had taken great pleasure in scaring passers by – until they'd managed, somehow, to pilot him back to the house that he and his bride-to-be had shared; he vaguely remembered he and Sirius taking one look at Lily's expression and running like hell, leaving a drunken James and bewildered Peter to face her wrath.
Peter had woken up with a giant orange traffic cone on his head.
It had apparently been a very good night.
He came reluctantly back to the present; Snape was still staring moodily into his drink. Lupin glanced again at his own drink before giving up and breaking the silence.
"I meant to thank you, by the way, for that hangover cure at Christmas."
Snape shrugged.
"It was nothing, I merely wished to pelt you with snow that afternoon," he sneered, though there was a twinkle in his dark eyes. Remus smiled, despite himself; perhaps he was about to see what Amelia saw in the strange Slytherin professor.
"Well, anyway, thanks," he paused. "…and thank you for taking care of Amelia at Christmas, she really needed it."
"Well she is my friend too, you know." Snape retorted angrily, stung.
"I know," said Lupin quietly.
They regarded one another for a moment, enmity bubbling just beneath the surface; then, abruptly, Severus sagged a little.
"Look I really can't be arsed to argue tonight. Do you mind if we just forget all that Gryffindor – Slytherin crap for a bit and just have a drink?" he asked, a little wearily.
Surprised, but not altogether opposed to the idea Remus agreed and nodded to the bar-elf to bring them another round.
"I think it must have been that blasted meeting – sapped all our strength."
Severus cracked a smile.
"They do rather go on, don't they? You know I've often had bets with Pomona on who'll fall asleep first."
Remus laughed, "I bet it's usually Binns."
"True – we had to disqualify him from the running, it was too easy!" Severus agreed, also laughing.
They lapsed into a companionable silence for a while as their third round of drinks arrived. It struck Remus that he'd never heard Severus laugh before, except cruelly.
"Look Lupin, I really should apologise for that stunt I pulled at the start of term – it was childish and stupid. I am sorry." It was apparently a night for firsts then.
Remus shook his head.
"No harm done. I suppose I should apologise for the Boggart too – although I can't be entirely held responsible for Neville's terror of you."
Snape chuckled.
"He's actually improving in Potions, you know. Amelia talked me into 'cutting him some slack,' as she put it."
"She seems to be doing us both some good," Remus smiled.
Severus agreed, "She does. I haven't seen you this happy since school…" he trailed off, not wanting to bring up their uncomfortable past.
"I was rotten to you in school, Severus, and I'm sorry for that," Remus said sincerely.
Severus looked at him for a moment before sighing.
"I wasn't much better, once I knew your secret. You weren't as bad as the others though – and you did try to stop them – I was a little grateful for that," he admitted.
"I didn't always though, and I should know better than most what that felt like."
They were quiet for a time as they sipped their drinks; Remus realised fuzzily that he was on his fifth pint of cider. Severus didn't appear to be doing much better as he attempted to focus on his drinking companion; Rosmerta serves good cider, Remus thought blearily.
"It was all Potter's fault you know," he began, gesticulating with his cider. Remus wondered vaguely where this was going.
"If he hadn't so obviously fancied Lily then I wouldn't have started him an' Black off so frequently." He was beginning to slur.
Remus blinked at the drink in front of him and tried to force his brain to take in what he'd just heard Severus admit.
"You were in love with Lily!" he stated, suddenly understanding the years of unnecessary grief between Snape and the Marauders.
"Yes." Said Snape unhappily, "and as soon as you lot turned up she had eyes only for the four of you." He finished his drink and started on the next.
"You did call her a Mudblood," Remus offered, conversationally.
"I know, but I didn't mean it, not really. I was angry."
Remus nodded, thinking back to Lily; he'd never been able to continue being angry with her for long.
"I loved her too," he said, reaching for another cider. Snape looked up.
"What really?"
"Yeah," said Remus, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "But she was always James's girl. You can't steal your best friend's girl…" No matter how much you might want to… or how much she might encourage you. He finished, privately. He thought back to a simpler time spent sharing apples in the grounds at sunset and blushed a little.
To their mutual surprise, Severus began to laugh, drunkenly.
"Look at ush," he said unsteadily, "hopelele- holep-." He stopped and concentrated: "hopelesh!" he finished triumphantly.
"Completely," Remus agreed, nodding vigorously.
"It was her eyes I think… sho green," Severus continued mournfully.
"And her smile."
"Her hair!"
"The way it changed in different lights!" Remus realised that he was nodding again and stopped.
They continued in this vein for some time before Hagrid returned to the table.
Hermione, sat reading with Amelia in her cousin's rooms, glanced out of the window at midnight to see what she would later describe as the funniest thing she could ever remember. She dropped her book with a thunk and pressed both hands against the cold window pane, as if to check she was still sane. Amelia, hearing the noise of leather on wood, joined her and together they watched the scene below, mouths open in disbelief.
In the snow on the castle grounds, three figures were weaving back and forth, singing loudly. As they watched, the one shaped like a Hagrid started to belt out the Scottish national anthem before being shushed in an over-dramatic manner by the two smaller figures. The Hagrid-shape waved them off and headed unsteadily towards his cottage, listing dangerously.
Snape and Lupin, because the starlight was clearly illuminating their features now, continued along the path below, supporting one another and singing what appeared to be a bawdy goblin ballad before the Snape-shaped shadow slid off Lupin's shoulders and into the snow, where Lupin, confused by the shift in weight, quickly joined him. Snape began to whoop in delight as he made a snow angel – he even stood and gave it a smiling face with vampire teeth – until Lupin jumped to his feet and yelled.
"TAG! YOU'RE IT!" and pelted off beneath an archway and out of sight, Snape hot on his heels. Lupin had somehow managed to find a traffic cone in Hogsmeade and was dragging it behind him happily.
The two cousins stared at one another for a moment in astonishment before they both collapsed, clutching their stomachs, neither one able to breath for laughing.
It was a sore and sheepish Severus who arrived in Amelia's rooms after lunch the following afternoon. He grimaced at Hermione in greeting, who was forced to hide her red faced grin behind a particularly large Arithmancy tome she was using to complete her coursework. Amelia completely trounced him at chess before he would even admit to his hangover, which apparently his potions hadn't been able to clear. About the same time Remus wandered in, looking equally shattered; he flopped down into a corner and picked up a book, glaring at its pages. It was a full minute before he realised he was trying to read it upside down.
Hermione, who had been doing quite well up to this point now had to run to the library so as not to laugh at her professors to their faces. Amelia rose and followed her cousin, not even bothering to hide her grin.
Remus, who had woken up in the Astronomy Tower clutching an entirely implausible traffic cone and not wearing very much glanced up at Severus, who shared a gloomy shrug.
"Do you think they saw us then?" Remus asked.
Severus, who had had a similar awakening in an entirely improbably position atop the statue of a hunchback in the Charms corridor, nodded unhappily. "Something tells me that Amelia won't let us live this one down."
As Hermione and Amelia had encountered Poppy and Pomona en route to the Library, he was not wrong.
Ravenclaw played Slytherin that very week. Slytherin won, though narrowly. This, according to the Weasley twins, Amelia's regular quidditch informants, was a good thing for Gryffindor, who could take second if they also beat Ravenclaw at the end of February.
Severus, of course, scoffed at the possibility of Gryffindor beating Slytherin; Amelia and Remus were almost certain that a large part of his reasons for vocalising this conviction was to irritate the crap out of Minerva, who had been winding him up about Sybill of late. Severus wasn't letting this get the better of him this term; since their drunken escapade (about which neither man would elaborate) he and Remus had become firm friends, which had effectively provided him with a second bolt-hole.
Lupin's first transformation of the year was spent in the company of both Amelia and Severus, who played a furious chess match before settling down for what Severus teasingly referred to as 'story-time'. By the end of the week they'd made their way through all three of the 'Space Captain Smith' series and had decided to move on to Sherri S Tepper's 'The Margarets'. Severus expressed mild surprise at enjoying science fiction so much as he usually preferred crime fiction.
Hermione remained a frequent visitor as her friends, of whom Amelia was beginning to despair, still hadn't forgiven her. She was clearly showing the strain of her insane workload and could often be found behind an enormous pile of textbooks in either Amelia's rooms, the Library, or – she suspected – the Gryffindor Common Room. The three teachers, recognising their younger selves in the girl, began to take turns in proof reading assignments, suggesting resources and giving advice – though they were careful to never offer help in their own subjects.
Severus had, to his own astonishment, begun to look forward to these impromptu study sessions and come to the conclusion that this, bizarre as it was, was the closest thing he'd ever had to a family. He was greatly touched by their including him, though of course, he'd never admit it.
Amelia used these study sessions to pick up bits she'd missed from mainstream schooling; at their next meeting, Minerva was impressed by her progress.
"As you appear to be getting on ok, are there any additional projects that you would like to look at?" she asked, over a cup of tea.
"Well, I remember Hermione telling me about Animagi last term, and I was wondering about giving it a go – you seemed the ideal person to ask about it."
Minerva, always happy to help those interested in her subject and more than a little curious as to how quickly the younger witch would be able to develop her skill, was eager to try. Following a lengthy discussion about procedure and a brief lecture on hard work, Amelia was loaded down with appropriate literature while Minerva wrote to the Ministry to apply for a practice license.
For Lupin, Amelia's interest in Animagi was another reason to continue falling for her, and he enlisted the aid of a grumbling but highly amused Severus to figure out a Valentines gift for her. The pair, with the help of an overly enthusiastic Pomona, managed to produce a miniature perpetual garden, complete with vegetable patch, waterfall, flowerbeds and a tiny clacking windmill. Filius helped them work charms that would allow the owner, with guests, to enter the garden to tend it and for a bit of rest and relaxation.
Amelia, naturally enough, was delighted with what she dubbed her 'pocket allotment' and took the earliest opportunity to build a tiny snowman in the middle of the garden. For her part, Amelia had knitted Remus a warm jumper as his was becoming rather worn, inside which he discovered a bar of Honeydukes' finest chocolate and an anthology of selected ancient manuscripts that had seen Amelia spend several days scouring the shelves of Flourish and Blotts. Enjoying their gifts together, they both felt that they were possibly the luckiest people on earth.
Severus, greatly entertained by their endearing relationship – though carefully to retain his customary sneer around them – provided something of an out of character Potions lesson for all his year groups. When Hermione delightedly filled Amelia and Remus in on it they congratulated him on his excellent pranking prowess, Remus remarking that he was unsurprised that Severus had managed to give the Marauders such an effective run for their money.
The class began like this: each pair of students were required to complete a potion suitable for their level from a list by the cauldron. The cauldrons which Severus had prepared would reward successful partners with lurid pink bat-shaped chocolates (provided by Poppy), while those unfortunate enough to fail were glued together for the rest of the day (courtesy of Filius). Hermione had been delighted to report that she and a very relieved Neville had successfully completed their potion, while Harry and Ron were still wandering the corridors somewhere because they'd been unable to get through the portrait-hole into the Gryffindor Common Room while still glued together.
Severus had received a brief dressing down from Dumbledore at the next staff meeting, followed by a round of applause from the staff while the headmaster pretended not to hear and twinkled at them from his armchair.
The staff were therefore greatly entertained for the better part of the week by running into increasingly desperate pairs of students trying a myriad of different spells to get unstuck; the teachers were gleefully maintaining a wall of uncooperativeness when asked to help. Hermione had been delighted to report that she and a very relieved Neville had successfully completed their potion, while Harry and Ron were still wandering the corridors somewhere because they'd been unable to get through the portrait-hole into the Gryffindor Common Room while still glued together.
Amelia was walking between classes when a beaming Neville approached her and asked her to thank her cousin from saving him from the glue. As they stood talking, Crabbe and Goyle had stumbled past grumbling under their breath, trying to get unstuck.
"Well they're in a sticky situation," Amelia had said, unable to stop herself, and Neville had had to fake a coughing fit to hide his guffaws.
Lupin was still chuckling at this image as he headed to Harry's next anti-Dementor lesson.
The boy seemed increasingly frustrated with his progress, despite Remus's assurances that he was doing well for his level.
"You're expecting too much of yourself," he'd said sternly, in their fourth week of practice. "For a thirteen-year-old wizard, even an indistinct Patronus is a huge achievement. You aren't passing out any more, are you?"
"I thought a Patronus would – charge the Dementors down or something," said Harry dispiritedly. "Make them disappear –"
"The true Patronus does do that," said Lupin. But you've achieved a great deal in a very short space of time. If the Dementors put in an appearance at your next Quidditch match, you will be able to keep them at bay long enough to get back to the ground."
"You said it's harder if there are loads of them," Harry complained.
"I have complete confidence in you," he said, smiling. "Here – you've earned a drink. Something from the Three Broomsticks, you won't have tried it before –"
He pulled two bottles out of his briefcase.
"Butterbeer!" exclaimed Harry. "Yeah I like that stuff!"
Lupin raised an eyebrow; apparently Harry had inherited James's talent for trouble anyway… perhaps it was genetic.
"Oh – Ron and Hermione brought me some back from Hogsmeade," Harry continued quickly. It was obvious to Remus that he was lying (he looked just like James did every time he'd been caught out) but what kind of Marauder would he be if he prevented James Potter's son from the odd illicit adventure?
"I see," he said. "Well – let's drink to a Gryffindor victory against Ravenclaw! Not that I'm supposed to take sides, as a teacher…" he added hastily.
Harry grinned at him. They drank the Butterbeer in silence, until Harry asked an unpleasant question.
"What's under a Dementor's hood?"
Remus lowered his bottle thoughtfully.
"Hmmm… well the only people who really know are in no condition to tell us. You see, the Dementor only lowers its hood to use its last and worst weapon."
"What's that?"
"They call it the Dementor's kiss," he continued, with a slightly twisted smile. "It's what Dementors do to those they wish to destroy utterly. I suppose there must be some kind of mouth under there, because they clamp their jaws upon the mouth of the victim and – suck out his soul."
Harry accidentally spat out a bit of Butterbeer. Still shockable, then, Remus thought.
"What – they kill -?"
"Oh, no," said Lupin. "Much worse than that. You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you'll have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no anything. There's no chance at all of recovery. You'll just – exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever… lost."
It was a terrible thing to happen to anyone, he reflected. More like death than death…
His mind returned to something he'd read in the paper over breakfast; he'd had to be careful that no one had caught his expression in the Great Hall.
"It's the fate that awaits Sirius Black. It was in the Daily Prophet this morning. The Ministry have given the Dementors permission to perform it if they find him." When they find him, he thought bitterly. Sirius might well have been one hell of a Marauder, but almost the entire cohort of Azkaban Dementors were on his tail.
He studied Harry carefully: he had taken the news sombrely at breakfast and was curious as to how Harry might react; the boy seemed to know a great deal more about Sirius than he really should.
"He deserves it," he said suddenly, surprising Lupin. Perhaps he did know about Sirius's crimes.
"You think so?" said Lupin lightly. "Do you really think anyone deserves that?"
"Yes," said Harry defiantly. "For… for some things…"
Lupin watched him carefully once more, certain that he had indeed inherited James's talent for trouble and used it expertly to assess the threat against him. He was suddenly very proud to know this boy, despite some of his more childish tendencies; Lily would never have raised her son to think that way about anyone. He watched him finish his Butterbeer thoughtfully and wished him a good night before heading back to his own rooms to mark, privately wishing he'd had one of his own childhood possessions to keep an eye on his friends' son.
It was much later in the evening when he encountered a thoroughly distressed Hermione sobbing in the Library. Amelia was watching over a detention with Fred and George Weasley and would therefore have her hands full until the small hours, so he invited her up to his office for a mug of tea.
Hermione sat timidly in front of Lupin's desk behind her steaming mug, staring at the tank at the back of the room (currently full of Manx house pixies) and deeply embarrassed that she'd been caught crying by a teacher, albeit a friendly one, for the second time this year.
"Harry got his Firebolt back," she started, eyes still on the Pixies as if looking at her Professor would be too much to ask. The pixies had settled in for a relaxing evening. Being domesticated, they had built themselves what resembled a dollshouse. One of the younger ones had his face against the glass of the tank and was regarding Hermione with great interest.
"That's good," Remus said, relieved that Harry was once again relatively safe. "Isn't it?" he asked, reviewing her expression. Like Severus, tearful women weren't really his forte.
"Yes," said Hermione dully, "he even came over to apologise."
Another of the pixies, she noticed, had his feet up and was reading what looked like a tiny newspaper. Absently he knocked out his pipe on the makeshift fireplace beside him.
"Then Ron found Scabbers was gone. He found a bloodied sheet and some ginger hairs," she sniffed. "Now he's convinced that Crookshanks – my cat – ate him."
"Scabbers is?"
"Ron's rat. He's being completely unreasonable."
"Well Hermione, you know cats do chase rats – it's in their blood," he offered, delicately.
"I know that!" she snapped, then went pale. "Sorry Professor – I – I –"
Remus waved her off.
"It's fine, go on."
"But the sheet he showed me didn't have nearly enough blood on it – cats play with their food. He won't even agree to help me look for him."
"People can be very attached to their pets Hermione."
"I know – and I know I'd be upset if something happened to Crookshanks. I'd just hoped that with the Firebolt back they might have started talking to me again."
Remus looked at her then and saw himself staring back, twenty years younger and very much alone.
"Well, until they do – and they will –" he assured her, "you could always help me with the pixies."
"I could?" Hermione looked to be perking up at the possibility of a new project.
"I don't want to add to your work load, but these pixies get fed up if they're left on their own for too long. If you do your work in here you can keep each other company. They understand English and bring luck to those who treat them with kindness."
Hermione looked from the tank to her Professor, her usual good cheer returning.
"How long for?"
"Only for a couple of weeks I'm afraid, then they go back home.
Hermione looked delighted. She addressed the tank:
"Would you like that?"
The mother pixie, who was wearing a big, floral apron nodded happily; her son, face still pressed to the glass, gave her a big thumbs up.
Remus watched the exchange happily.
"Right, well since that's sorted, I think it's well past both our bedtimes."