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I get a chapter ready, and am about to post it, when I get a smashing review about how much someone likes the story, and then I go and try to make the next chapter better.
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I'm going through some things right now(who isn't), and I got writer's block two days ago. The end of the chapter is a little disappointing, but I will try to make it up the next chapter.
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"I wanted to kill myself, but that thought goes as quick as it comes, because death would be happy, see? Death would be a picnic compared to Azkaban." -Later in this chapter.
Remus shivered. He was in a cold, dark cell. The cell was fashioned on a crude carriage that was being drawn by Thestrals. He was being taken to Azkaban. There was one other person in the cell. Like Lupin, his hands were chained to the wall too. He had blond hair, fashioned in a crew-cut. His arms were thick and strong, and there was a tattoo of a manticore on his arm.
His eyes were grey, but bloodshot. He raised an eyebrow at Lupin observing him. He snarled, "See something you like?"
Lupin didn't answer.
The man said, "What are you going to Azkaban for?"
When Lupin still didn't speak, he said, "Snotty one, aren't you? We're all mates here in Azkaban. You'll like it. Nice place."
He gave a toothy grin that bared yellow teeth.
Even his snide remarks fizzled out as the hours wore on. Their hands were chained high enough that it was convenient to stand, but impossible to sit. They could barely do a half-crouch without the chains tugging painfully on their wrists.
Remus was reduced to a half-stupor in the cold and fatigue, his mind dwelling on the night he'd gotten arrested.
He'd arrived at Whitney's house within a few minutes of leaving Hogwarts. The gate had creaked as he opened it and walked through the garden to the front door. It was slightly open, and he'd entered without lighting his wand, for fear of warning someone still inside. He'd cast a non-verbal 'Homoneum Revelio' which was met by silence. There were no living humans in the house. Lighting his wand, he'd searched the house for Whitney's body. He found him in the living room, sprawled on the floor next to the couch. There was an expression of pure terror and agony on his face.
'Tortured to death, no doubt there', muttered Remus to himself. He started scanning the room quickly, for any clues as to who had been there last, and why they had murdered John. There was a set of cutlery on the table, and the tea was lukewarm in the kettle.
Remus took it all in. So John had a visitor. Someone he knew enough to invite into the house.
Stepping out of the room, Remus turned back for a last look. Suddenly, he spotted a book sticking out from under the couch. He walked back and pulled it out. It was one of Whitney's books from the church, 'Birth, Matrimony and Death'. Remus decided it had probably been the book Whitney had been reading before his visitor arrived.
Looking at his watch, and finding he had less than half an hour left, he quickly looked through the other rooms too.
Stepping into the study, he was surprised to see that there was a lit candle there, almost burnt out. Remus quickly shuffled through the papers, but could find nothing that stood out. He eyed the waste-paper basket. Kneeling, he rifled through the papers there. He came up with a bunch of sheets on some kind of research that was being done by the church. The papers were stamped with the name John T Whitney.
Suddenly, Lupin heard a gate creak. His head shot up. Cautiously, he snuck up to the window, peering past the curtains. There was a flash of light as a curse broke the window with a ctash. Two more curses followed, missing Remus's arm by a hair's breadth.
He cursed, Shit, and dashed out of the room trying to figure out which was the best possible way to escape. Remus streaked though the corridors, running through room after room. He skidded to a stop inside the study, and dove into the shadows just he heard soft footsteps come to a halt outside the door.
The door burst open, and a shaft of light from the corridor lit Lupin clearly, holding his wand up defensively.
"Put your wand down NOW!" , yelled a voice.
"Wait!", Remus said. "Let me-"
And he was cut off as the Auror bound his hands and feet with magical ropes.
He fell with a thump, his body eerily in parallel to Whitney's. A short stump figure squatted next to him. Umbridge smirked down at him as his eyes widened in fear and hate.
A voice above him said, "You're under arrest for murder. You're now being placed under the Sententious curse."
And everything went blank. Remus could still think, and feel his way about his thoughts, but that was about it. No sight, no smell, no hearing. He couldn't even feel his body.
The Sententious Curse. It robs the victim of their senses, and reduces them to a state of defencelessness until the curser sees fit to remove the curse. The law states that only the Ministry can use this curse in circumstances it sees fit.
And then he'd been tortured by Umbridge and her assistant, that evil hag insisting that he tell her why he'd murdered Whitney and what he'd wanted from him.
Remus was shaken out his thoughts as the time the carriage drew to a stop. He looked over at the other man, and realised that both of them were dead on their feet from the hours of standing.
They were dragged unceremoniously out of the cell, and found themselves on a deserted, misty beach. They were forced to wade through knee-deep waves into the sea. The guards had to wade too, but they had wands, and could cast protective warmth and dryness charms to keep the frigid waters from chilling them. Needless to say, Lupin and his companion were numb as they clambered stiffly into a rickety boat.
Lupin huddled into himself, trying to stop his limbs from numbing by rubbing them constantly. The rushing wind made his ears ache. Suddenly, a dark, rotting castle emerged through the mist. As the boat drew up to the island, Lupin felt a chill to the bone that had nothing to do with the cold. The whole place was desolate, with a smell of rot that he immediately associated with Dementors. Creatures that thrive in places of death and misery. The air was more than frigid- it had a sharp tinge of hopelessness that would make anyone want to break into tears.
The two of them were dragged to a small building that looked relatively cleaner than the rest. As soon as they entered, they noticed the air was cheerier, albeit still abnormal. Lupin spotted a patronus guarding the door they were entering. Inside, the guards told an old, spotted man that these were the 'jackasses the Ministry had sent' and to 'put the lanky one in a Dementor-less cell' and the 'tattooed baboon in a 2-guard cell.'
The old man nodded to the guards, who left. Then he waved his wand, and the prisoners' cloaks, shoes, and socks flew off. They rolled themselves into 2 bundles and settled on the old man's desk. Lupin tried not to hiss as his feet touched the barren, frozen stone floor.
The old man stepped out of the room, stroking his patronus on its head, and muttered something under his breath. A couple of dementors whooshed in, and Lupin felt his knees go weak. He summoned up his happy memories, and struggled to not pass out.
Lupin felt bile rise to his throat as rotten hands clutched his arms and pulled him along to the castle. The terror he'd been trying to fight rose, and made his head throb.
Suddenly, it lessened. A door clanged shut, and he was left alone in his cell.
Hermione clutched the blankets around herself, trying to stem her tears. She had been crying relentlessly for hours. She hadn't bothered to attend class, and Harry had dropped by at lunch, and then at dinner, trying to coerce her to eat a few bites.
Now she looked at her watch, wondering how Remus was faring in Azkaban. She felt a sudden chill as the wind blew open a loose window, and she clambered out of bed to close it. Even as she was about to close it, she realised that Lupin was probably cold in his cell too.
She stood there for a long while until her arms started to feel chilled. Suddenly feeling the need to go for a walk, she reached for her cloak, before she remembered she'd given it to Remus. Getting her spare cloak, she snuck out into the dark corridors, and silently let herself out into the grounds.
Looking around, she spotted Hagrid's cabin was lit. Glad he was still up, she decided to pay him a visit.
Knock,knock.
The knocker set Fang barking, and Hagrid looked out of his window. Seeing her, he cried happily, "Hermione!" and he let her in.
"What are ya doing here?" he asked, though not rudely.
She smiled bleakly at him, saying, "Not able to sleep."
She settled into his armchair, and accepted a cup of steaming tea, as he said understandingly, "Worrying about Remus, is it?"
She nodded. "Why are you up so late, Hagrid?"
Hagrid said, "Oh, I was harvesting some herbs by moonlight for Horace. Just got back when you knocked."
Hermione blurted out, "How is Azkaban?"
He gave her a look, and settled into a chair opposite her.
He mumbled, "It's the wildest of our wild nightmares. In fact, it's all of 'em put together."
"Day and night – you won't know one from the other- it's misery. Worse, agony. All your regrets, your mistakes, lost friends, loves, family. That's all is left in your head. I wanted to kill myself, but that thought goes as quick as it comes, because death would be happy, see? Death would be a picnic compared to Azkaban."
He took a sip of his tea, shivering. "It made me glad for all I had, when I came back. Azkaban does that to a man. Of course, not many of them come back."
Hermione let out a cry, and he looked up to see her in shock.
He winced, then said consolingly, "Come, Hermione, Remus will be all right. He's stronger than you think. You wait and see, Minerva will have him out in no time at all."
She nodded, unable to reply.
A few minutes later, she set her mug down, having finished the tea. Seeing that Hagrid was drowsy and she was keeping him up, she said, "Oh, don't stay up on my account, Hagrid. I'll let myself out."
Ignoring his feeble protests, she gave him a kiss on the cheek and left. He watched her until she disappeared into the darkness, and then shut the door.
She tried to keep her mind blank as she walked up the grounds. She would not think about what Hagrid had said about Azkaban, she would not think on Remus suffering there.
Getting back into Remus' rooms, she headed straight to bed.
When sleep came, it was an uneasy one.
She couldn't help it. Her mind seemed to be digging up memories that would torture her, had she been in Azkaban. She was enveloped by darkness that seemed to be full of shapes from the past.
Being teased and shunned in Muggle school... Nerd! ...Here comes the rabbit-teethed teacher's pet!
A horrid first few months at Hogwarts, with no friends... It's LeviOsa, not Leviosar.. No wonder she's got no friends.
Falling into a frozen lake on holiday in Switzerland...The frigid dark water swallowed her, and she fell unconscious.
A witch peering down at her, cackling, as she writhed on the floor. CRUCIO! Yesss...filthy mudbood...
Running into snowy woods, praying, hoping, he'd come back. Ron! Come back... please!
Harry limp in Hagrid's arms. Harry! No! No...
Remus looking over his shoulder beseechingly as she gaped at his scars... Werewolves are mere dogs...
Tonks kissing Remus by the garden wall... Please... I love you...take me back...
Watching the love fade in their eyes... I'm sorry, Mother, Father... Obliviato!
Remus lying dead next to Tonks, their hands intertwined. They had died holding hands...
Hermione shot up in bed, gasping. Her heart was beating fast, and she realised tears were streaming down her cheeks.
She took deep, gulping breaths, and got out of bed for a drink of water. Then she climbed into Remu's bed and fell into a deep sleep..
She awoke early the next morning, in Remus' bed. She had fallen asleep, comforted by the smell of him amongst the bedcovers. She took in the ceiling, contemplating whether to attend class or not that day. She decided people might start to wonder why she was slacking off, and got out of bed reluctantly. Getting dressed, she headed to breakfast.
In the Great Hall, she found all the students abuzz. They were chattering animatedly, and everyone seemed to be looking at the newspaper. With a hollow feeling in her stomach, she reached for Harry's Daily Prophet. There, on the fourth page, was the headline- "HOGWARTS DADA PROF ARRESTED IN CONNECTION WITH PASTOR WHITNEY'S MURDER"
The photo below was one of Lupin being led past reporters outside the Ministry of Magic.
She skimmed through the article, feeling increasingly sick.
Apparently, Hogwarts Defence professor does more than teach, he dabbles in murder and conspiracy. He was found on the scene of crime of John .L. Whitney's murder in his house in Ackmouth, and the Ministry placed him under arrest. The arrest was kept under wraps in the circumstance of no available evidence. However, Lupin was moved to Azkaban last night, and though the Ministry refused to comment, it can only be seen as a sign of his proved guilt.
Hermione was fuming.
And her eyes widened at the final line of the article.
Remus Lupin's wife was unavailable for comment.
Her eyes bugged out, and she looked over at Harry, horrified.
He looked at her, reading her mind. "I know. They didn't mention your name, however, which means they don't know, or are not allowed to tell even if they do, right? Or maybe they still think it's- you know, Tonks."
Hermione shook her head worriedly. "I don't know."
After Lunch, the Heads of Houses came down to the House Tables and made an announcement. "Tomorrow, all classes for the seventh and eighth years will be suspended after lunch in view of a lecture arranged for the students. Please assemble in the third classroom on the west corridor off the Charms classroom at 1:00 PM tomorrow. This lecture must be attended by all."
Chattering excitedly about what this lecture could be about, the oldest students headed up the Great Staircase.
Hermione was following Harry and Ron dejectedly when Ron said, "Hermione- I'm sorry Lupin was arrested."
Hermione looked at him, and nodded. She did not have the strength or the wish to keep the fight between them going.
However, Ron did not apologise for yelling at her about her relationship with Lupin. She didn't really expect him to.
Hermione was on the couch, staring into the fire later that evening, when there was a knock on the door. Opening it, she saw it was Minerva. A little embarrassed to be seen by her Transfiguration Professor in her pyjamas, she let her in.
Minerva ignored her embarrassed air, and began, "Hermione, I need Remus' notes from some work he did for the Order earlier this year. Could you show me his work desk?"
Hermione looked confused, but did as she asked. She led Minerva to the beech desk he had in his office, where he did his school work. She assumed this was where he did other work-stuff too. She said this aloud.
McGonagall nodded. Then, looking grim, she waved her wand at the desk. There was a small explosion, and the door to the cabin below the desk hung open.
McGonagall shuffled through a stack of papers and notebooks inside, finally drawing out the one she needed. Repairing the desk, she stepped away from it.
She stepped out into the corridor, and turned, her mouth open, as if she wanted to say something.
"I notice you've been very distracted in classes, Hermione. The other teachers have noticed it too."
Hermione couldn't believe her ears. Was McGonagall reprimanding her for caring?
McGonagall said, "I'm sorry about it. I know this is hard, but we're already doing everything we can to help him. We expect to get him out of that- "
Her voice wavered for a moment.
"-hellhole by the end of this week."
Surprising Hermione, she reached for her hand and squeezed it.
Then she was gone.
Hermione prayed her words to come true.
At ten to one the next afternoon, Hermione and the boys entered the classroom to find that it was already milling with students. A small pedestal had been set up at the front of the room, with a clean blackboard, and fresh chalk. There were more chairs and desks than usual in the classroom, but the room was bigger than usual, so it didn't matter. Everybody settled in, and waited, talking among themselves. She saw that Neville and Luna had taken the opportunity to sit together, and she realised, with a small smile, that they were holding hands.
McGonagall entered the classroom, and called for attention.
"Students. You have assembled here today to participate in an interactive session that is aimed at helping you find your careers. Famous people from around the world, in unique jobs, will talk to you about how they researched their options and picked what was best for them. Now, I present our first guest, Ms. Dorothy, who is an American researcher on broomsticks."
Everyone straightened up at the mention of broomsticks. Or the boys did. However, even Hermione slightly perked up at this idea of career counselling.
The door opened, and a stunning woman entered. She had curly brown hair, and they prettiest black eyes. As she walked up to the pedestal, the class got an eyeful of her tight jeans over which she wore a snug shirt and a jumper that said, "Will you be my Nimbus 2001?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, and shared an exasperated look with Ginny across the aisle, as they could see the boys were literally drooling. Even Harry looked slightly dazed as he watched her.
"Hello, students." she said and half the class (the male half) drew in their breaths.
"I am Dorothy Whittaker."
Hermione tried to stifle a gasp, impressed. Her image of Dorothy did a turn-around.
She whispered to Harry, "She's the woman who sued Gregorovitch."
That made Harry and Ron snap out of their dazes, swivelling to look at her. "What? She sued Gregorovitch?"
"Yes! Claiming his ideas were fake, and the magic he employed to create wands was stolen from Olivander."
Harry began, "How does she know Ol-"
Hermione cut him off with a shush, as Dorothy began to talk.
"I am not going to be pig-headed enough to think you would have heard of me. I work for the American Forest Magic Research Institute. It's an institute that researches the various woods and timbers we use in magical products. My father was a wandmaker. You all may know him. Olivander."
There were gasps all around the room. This woman was Olivander's daughter?
"First I worked in the wands section. Later, I transferred to broomsticks, because I found it more interesting. Dad, however, was not impressed."
She gave a cheeky grin at the students.
"Let's begin. First, I would like to ask a few questions. From your point of view, what are the options you see before you? Any volunteers?"
There were a few. She picked one, and it was a Seventh-year Hufflepuff that Hermione did not know."
"The Ministry?"
Dorothy nodded, but said, "Expand a bit. What in the Ministry? There are, ofcourse, different fields."
Another hand shot up. "Aurors."
Dorothy smiled. "Yes."
"Finance."
"Teaching."
"Muggle Protection."
"Healing."
Dorothy clapped her hands together. "Excellent."
Striding up to the pedestal, she leaned lightly on it. "You all seem to have got the basic idea. Now, the key to picking your career, is to look into your heart. Can you see yourself doing this job, day in, day out? Would you do this job rather than starve in the street, or would you starve yourself just to get his job?"
"The key, is to find what makes you tick."
The class was so silent you could hear a pin drop.
"Last year, when the war was happening, what did you think? Did you want to be out there, defending yourself? Or picking up and helping the hurt?"
"When you sleep, what do you dream of? When you see people achieving great things, what do you think? That you'd ever become like them?"
Everybody was listening intently.
"If you are still unable to find the answers, I suggest we follow a few simple steps right now. Firstly, what are your strengths? It could be anything from a subject you excel in, to a talent to find the exact amount of salt your mom put in the curry."
There was a slight titter around the room. "Next, I suggest you rack your brains and think up every job you could ever find connected to these talents of yours."
"Next is to imagine you got the job and worked the next thirty years in it. Then imagine yourself dying. If you died, would you be happy you picked that job and nothing else?"
Next Whittaker proceeded to suggest a few out-of-the-way jobs that were fulfilling but that most people didn't go for. She listed the requirements, and how to go about applying for those jobs. Hermione could see lots of people taking notes, and not just boys. She was glad this woman was not just a pretty face after all. Maybe Minerva had intended for the boys to take to the woman so that atleast they'd listen to what she had to say.
Hermione chuckled lightly, then realised she'd been louder than she thought. She saw Dorothy Whittaker look over at her. She didn't to be bothered though. Her eyes flickered vaguely over the others on Hermione's bench. Suddenly, she swivelled her eyes onto Harry.
Hermione saw Harry go red from the corner of her eye, as recogniton dawned on Whittaker's face. Stammering slightly, she began to speak again. Every now and then however, her eyes would hover on Harry.
The three were walking down the corridor after the lecture finished. "Did you get a good look at her? She's a hottie!" said Ron.
Hermione gave him a patronising look, but gaped open-mouthed when Harry said, "I think everyone got a good look. And let me tell you... it looked pretty good alright!"
"Harry!" she said in a tone of mild disgust.
"Mister Potter?" said a voice behind them. They turned, and found Dorothy walking towards them. Not wasting a moment, Hermione whipped out a piece of parchment and a quill, and said, "Could you give me an autograph, Miss Whittaker?"
Dorothy smiled, and handed another piece of parchment to Harry. "I'll sign for you if he'll sign for me."
And she gave Harry a slightly embarrassed, cheeky grin. Harry stuttered, "Sure..."
Dorothy said, "A big fan, Mister Potter. Last year, you finished Voldemort like the scum he was...that was amazing. Amazing's a bit of an understatement, really."
Harry did something that looked suspiciously like blushing. Hermione bit down a groan. Did he have a crush on this woman?
The woman seemed not to have noticed Harry's colour change. She continued, "Of course, everyone's heard you're a great Quidditch player. Speaking of which, I've got the design for a new broom coming up. It's going to make the Firebolt look like a Comet 360. Do you want to take a special peek at it, before the rest of the world?"
Harry looked amazed. "You'd let me do that?"
"Sure. Why don't you come by my office this evening, and I'll show you. 6 maybe? I'm leaving tomorrow morning."
Harry nodded, still slightly stunned.
She gave Harry a bright smile, Ron and Hermione a kind smile, and left.
"Her nose is cute."
Hermione let out an exasperated groan.
So, did you like it? I really tried, you know, to make the chapter longer.
I realise there's not much going on right now, but this chapter was necessary for what's coming later.
Leave me your feedback, you know I love it!