Yaay! I know it's been a while, but the fact that you've gotten more than one update this summer means I've improved at least a little! I'm hoping to crank out one more before fall semester! Enjoy.

Disclaimer: For all that I've changed about both worlds, I obviously don't own them, or else they'd stay the same.

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Fallen Star

They were staring, those green eyes. Staring in shock and horror at a pair of hands that clenched and unclenched in anxious and dismayed confusion. They flickered up at the entrance of the Headmaster and company, and immediately dropped to the ground smouldering with shame and guilt. "Headmaster." The voice sounded foreign. "There are no words with which I can express my apologies to the level they need be done. I do not know what came over me."

Dumbledore sat at his desk, his deputy at his side, and silently contemplated him for a long time. It was the grimmest James had ever seen him, and he was deeply unsettled by the lack of that brightness normally characteristic of the wizard's gaze. In his own mind, James wasn't sure whether he was to blame for his actions. It had never happened before, to be sure, but at the same time, if it was something he could not control, was it his fault?

Unable to take the silence any longer, he opened his mouth again. "How is Hagrid?"

"None the worse for wear," Lupin answered, also lacking his usual fervor and looking more haggard than ever.

"Is he - did I...?"

Lupin shook his head, and Norrington's tensed shoulders sagged with relief. The werewold turned away, unable to bear the sight of him any longer. The faint trembling of his friend made him grind his teeth: this was not the same man. No matter how much he looked and sounded the same, he was a completely different person, and Remus was fervently wishing for the return of the real, the true James Norrington.

At last, Dumbledore spoke. "There is no blame in this room, Mr Norrington. What has happened is beyond any of our control, and it appears that it cannot be undone." His words fell like stones, and the more he heard, the more Lupin felt like he was becoming stone himself. "We shall just have to adjust and move on." James had never heard such weariness as he heard in the Headmaster's voice (at least not in the life he remembered), and in spite of the blameless words, he couldn't shake the feeling that, somehow, he had been a grave disappointment.

O0o0O

"You're going to need to drink this potion tonight, I'm afraid, though I don't think it'll hurt you to."

"And this will make me less dangerous?"

"It will allow you to keep your head when you transform - an ability which you seem to have lost."

Once again, James felt guilt without knowing why, and he downed the wolfsbane without another word. Tense moments passed, but the only pain James felt was in his gut, and hat had been there since morning, when he'd come to inside a cage and been told what he had done. "Is this not the same potion you gave me the first time?"

"It is. I had theorized that your countermagic would act as a catalyst and carry its effects further, and I was right."

"Countermagic." James' brows furrowed with concern. "I don't like the sound of that. Is it some sort of disease?"

"If it is, it is nothing to worry over. After all, you haven't got it anymore." He misinterpreted the bitterness in Lupin's voice as due in part to the loss of a 'magical catalyst' to study.

"And what now?"

"We sit and wait. Under cover of darkness we shall go to the Shrieking Shack, where we can effectively hide ourselves."

James perked up. "Good. I haven't been there since I was obliviated. I should very much like to investigate it. Perhaps we can discover what happened, and who it was."

"The same thought had entered my mind, although it was not my original reason for going." Lupin went on to explain the real purpose of the Shrieking Shack and the Whomping Willow: to act as a safe haven for a young werewolf student years ago, before the advent of the wolfsbane potion.

"No wolfsbane? How did you know you wouldn't hurt anyone?"

"I didn't. I was grateful for a secluded place, but I probably could have broken out and escaped. I was lucky to have the friends that I did. They stayed with me, and somehow kept me sane."

"How could they have? Wasn't it dangerous for them?"

"Of course it was. But they made it less so. A werewolf has an inborn hatred and hunger for humans. It is in our nature. So they made themselves inhuman. They became animegi; those who can willingly transform into animals. It is like a subdivision of Transfiguration, except that with normal transfiguring, someone who is turned into an animal must be turned back by another person."

"I see. Like a shape shifter. Potter called me one on the night he discovered me. I did not know what that was, and so ended up revealing myself. Even if I had known, I don't think I would have used it as an excuse. Potter probably wouldn't have felt obliged to keep it a secret, and word would have gotten out that I am a dirty old man."

There was a beat of silence before both roared with laughter. When they had calmed, Lupin straightened, looking much less grey and more lively. "I nearly forgot that the moon effects you during the day as well as night. If we don't want you getting caught out in the open, we had better be on our way."

Norrington followed him out, and could not keep the claws of dread from tugging at his spine. They strode out into the air and made for the Whomping Willow. Lupin cast furtive glances as they went, to make sure that they were not seen. "Why do you look about as though you must hide yourself? Did not you tell me that the students knew about you?"

"They do, but I do not want to tempt any into following me by revealing the entrance to my hide-out. Besides, they do not know about you. If someone were to see you in my company, suspicions would likely be raised - and we have had more than enough of the consequences that follow." Thinking back to the pain of Draco Malfoy's discovery and the panic of Harry Potter's, James had to agree. The fewer people who knew, the better.

Upon reaching the Willow, Remus sprinted toward the trunk before it could whip its branches around and pressed a knot-shaped button in the bark. Instantly, the writhing tree calmed and James was able to cross safely to meet him at the entrance to the tunnel. With last surveyances to confirm no detection, they climbed down and began the back-breaking walk to the Shrieking Shack.

"How did they find out, the students?" the Muggle ventured after several minutes of silence.

Lupin, already beginning to gleam with sweat in the wand light, glanced back at him. "It happened last year," he began after a moment's hesitation. "A man named Sirius Black - Harry Potter's god-father, you remember - had escaped from Azkeban. They arrested him for the murder of more than a dozen Muggles, not to mention a mutual friend of ours, Peter Pettigrew. He was presumed to be the man who had betrayed the Potters to the Dark Lord. But Peter was alive, James. He was an animegus, a rat. And do you know what Fate did?" he paused with a wry smile. "He was the pet of Ronald Weasely, and had been so close the entire time. It was he who had committed the murders, and he that betrayed Harry's parents. The three of them - Harry and his friends - came to confront Sirius, and in the end helped to capture Peter and clear Sirius's name. Unfortunately, in all the excitement, I had forgotten both the date and my potion. I transformed, and put everyone in grave danger. Severus, who had pursued the children and had been hoping to apprehend Sirius himself, was later rather loose with his tongue within earshot of a student, and word spread."

"Severus did?"

"Sirius, Peter, James Potter and I were a tight bunch when we were students here, much like Harry, Ron, and Hermione are today. With the exception of Peter, I am afraid that we rather bullied students like Snape. He has hated us ever since, and so, denied his apprehension of Sirius, who had always treated him worst, pursued my humiliation instead." James could not believe his ears. Surely the man he had so identified himself with had not crouched so low. "His revenge was just, I think," Remus continued. "At first, letters arrived from parents who worried that I might be a danger to their children, and I considered resigning my position here. But the news painted me a hero, and Dumbledore encouraged me to remain. Hermione Granger even put together a petition to have me stay, which was signed by the majority of the student body, and the staff. Her reasoning was that, of all her Defense Against the Dark Arts professors thusfar, I was the only one she felt she had learnt anything useful from." They both paused in their hike to chuckle at this.

"I am glad it turned out all right."

"So am I. I didn't exactly have anywhere else to go. Not many places would hire a known werewolf."

"Which leads me to wonder about the one that bit me. Perhaps it is not aware of its condition?"

"It's a definite possibility. Even so, someone would have discovered such a person by now, and we would have gotten wind of it."

James acknowledged this with a grunt. "What happened to Black and Pettigrew?"

"Peter was sent to Azkeban, and will probably remain there for the rest of his life. Sirius's story is much brighter. He became Harry's guardian, and they are living happily together in the countryside."

"I am heartily glad to hear of it, and sincerely hope that dark times such as those can be left behind, and the influences of the Dark Lord fade until the are naught but memories."

Lupin continued on without reply. Dark times pertaining to his friends of old and the Dark Lord had indeed passed. But it felt like life was just as dark now as his friend wandered farther and farther away from his true self, unaware that he might well be lost forever. The werewolf smiled bitterly. It seemed lycanthropy was not the only thing he was cursed with, and he berated Fate for matching him with such troublesome friends.

It was not long before they reached the Shack. Night had begun to fall. With a nod to one another, they retreated to separate rooms where they stripped their clothing and placed it where it might stay safe and clean, and waited for the moonlight to shine through the slatted windows. A short time later, they reunited as beasts, and traversed up to the bedroom to commence their investigation, noses to the ground and senses alert. Unfortunately, the scents had faded by now, and what smells they found they could not identify. The scars of the fight remained: gashes and scorch marks on the floor and walls; deep gouges that on a man might have been fatal; a wardrobe which first had been turned to stone and then been cracked and pocked with small craters; and of course, the rotting corpses of half a dozen carrion birds. The carnivores were immediately drawn to the carcasses, and both were suddenly consumed with the impulse to roll in the remains and cover themselves in the stench. Laughing, almost hysterically, in the way that animals do, they resisted, and instead dragged the carrion into a heap in the corner, to be disposed of later.

If the scents had been fresher, Lupin might have been able to follow the battle from start to finish, but at this time, all he knew was that they had circled here, blood had been shed there, and nearly all the spells seemed to have missed their mark. He made an appreciative noise that might have been interpreted as "Impressive!" or "Well done!" James could only look at the damage in bewilderment, unable to recall any of it - that is, of course, until he came to the collapsed bed. This was where he had been found immediately after he had been obliviated. He bared his teeth in frustration. Why could he remember everything else but this? A thought hit him. Had he discovered his infector? Had he found out something he shouldn't have? He shook his head. He had been told that the attacker had targeted him specifically. Had lured him there.

Once they were thoroughly bored, they left the Shack behind and wandered the Forbidden Forest for the remainder of the night. When they sensed dawn's approach, they scurried back to the decrepit house for their clothes, and emerged human from beneath the Willow in to the golden twilight that preceded the day. James sighed thoughfully, buttoning his shirt, as they stood safely out of the Willow's reach and watched as morning stretched its emerald fingers over the hills to grasp first the towers, then the walls of the magnificent stone caste, and realized that, somehow, he had enjoyed himself.

"It's odd, isn't it, that the old thing used to like you, and suddenly does not," mused Lupin with a glance at the Whomping Willow. "You used to sit under it, reading, and it wouldn't twitch a leaf."

"I wouldn't say it ever liked me. I liked the privacy it gave me, though - no one else would come near."

"How were you able to recline on its roots unscathed?"

James jutted a thumb over his shoulder. "I pressed the knot, same as you." The easy confidence was disheartening, and Lupin gave it up for another time. For Norrington, however, the answer came as a shock. It made enough sense, and he remembered it clearly enough, but he had the strangest feeling that, despite his memories, he hadn't known about the knot until Remus had used it the previous night. He had had the same feeling when Dumbledore had enquired after his mother. Everything about the question had just felt wrong - or, perhaps, not the questions, but his own answers. His brow furrowed as he gazed out over the misty fields. Had his memories come back correctly after all?

He shook away the thoughts. It was time to work, not daydream - and, work aside, he was hosting the staff lunch the next day, having finally been added to the rotation, and still needed to have a word with the kitchen staff.

With a nod to one another, he and Lupin parted ways. "There y'ar, James!" cried a jolly Hagrid as he entered the hut.

James could only stand and stare somberly. Breakfast was on the fire. The baby chipperphant was asleep in a basket by the table. Chrystafi and Marlie were looking in through the window and nickered greetings at him. How could everything move on so normally? "Rubeus." The gamekeeper started at the tone and abandoned the bacon to face his friend. "...I..."

Hagrid rested a heavy hand on his shoulder. "I forgive yer."

"You do?"

"Sure! No harm done, and t'weren't yer fault ter begin with."

James' relief was dizzying, and he had to grab the table for support. He counted himself incredibly lucky to have such friends.

O0o0O

He scrutinized the painting for a long while, trying to understand how a swipe yellow paint would be able to feel and react to human touch. He knew it was easily explained with "Magic," but still, in his mind, it did not make even the nonsensical sort of sense that other magic made. He berated himself for neglecting to learn to not ask questions, and steeled himself to do what he had come to accomplish. He reached out and tickled the yellow pear, and gained entry to the kitchens. There me met with the batty house elves to inform them that the staff lunch would be served on the deck of the Fallen Star.

The creatures looked at one another, their huge eyes swelling to the popping point. None had ever been on a boat before, and although only a handful would be needed to bring the meal, all were apprehensive. James began to feel uncertain about what had seemed like a wonderful idea. Was he asking too much of them? Then a particularly mismatched elf marched forward. "Dobby will do it, sir!" he squeaked. "Dobby has always wanted to go on a boat." Follwing his example, others also volunteered themselves, and James was able to leave satisfied. Now that they knew where his lunches were to be held, they needed only be told it was him next in the rotation and they would deliver the food to the Fallen Star every time.

The small group on the deck of the Star was made up of the usuals, who attempted to make it to every staff lunch they could, plus half a dozen that had come simply for the novelty of it. Lupin, McGonagall, Sprout, Flitwick, and, among others, even Trelawney and Vector. And Snape, who usually perfered to eat in his office, or else in the Great Hall.

James had set up a wooden table and benches what could seat about a dozen. Everyone chattered in cheerful idleness, looking around with interest and appreciation at the boat that had been crafted by hand - Muggles could achieve such things without magic! - as it was many of their first time aboard. When the elves came, their host stood at the rail with a steadying hand as they climbed with the food into the boat. They set the platters on the table, then stood in a small huddle as they stared in awe at the boat, with its coils of rope and its towering mast. "Would you like to join us?" he invited them. "We'll be setting sail soon."

"To have set foot on Mr Norrington's boat is adventure enough for me," one refused, and the others agreed, shaking their heads so that their ears flapped.

"Dobby wll stay, sir." The elf's large eyes were lit with excitement.

And so the Fallen Star's sails were unfurled and she sailed merrily out onto the smooth, glassy lake. James navigated her for a few minutes before pulling in the sail and tying the tiller, and so the meal began. He found himself seated beside Snape, which neither of them would have minded if they both had not kept trying to talk to one another. The more they attempted to converse, the more disagreeable James found him, and he wondered how he could possibly have considered the man a kindred spirit.

Perhaps sensing that loss of camaraderie, Severus quit trying to be social and glowered at his food with glittering eyes. He had lost the only person who had seemed to understand him, and it filled him with a bitter resentment that sharpened his tongue so that it whipped and snapped at anyone who addressed him. James was glad to be ignored, and turned his attention more fully to Minerva's anecdote on his other side, about how a student had turned a classmate into a surprisingly colourful chihuahua instead of a quill into a rose.

The meal was enjoyed and finished, and they sailed back to the dock to debark and continue with their days. Snape lingered to catch the captain alone. At last he turned away from a rather animated conversation with the house elf, who tottered away, precariously balancing all the empty dishes. He looked back to see the Potions Master still there, and though bewildered by his presence, was far too merry to wonder at it. "Do you know what he's just done?" he cried gaily with a gesture at the retreating elf. "He has commissioned me to make him a boat, and offered to pay my in full! Oh what a life! Crafting a boat for an elf!"

"Oh stop your meaningless blather!" snarled the wizard.

James sobered immediately and looked at him quizzically. "Have I done something?"

"Yes you have. You've become just like every other idiot in his wretched world." None of them had ever understood him in the way James had, not in a long while.

"I beg your pardon? What have I - ?" the affronted rebuke was interrupted.

"Why did you build the Fallen Star?"

"I hardle see how that is related - ."

"Why did you build it?" The intensity that shook Snape's voice distracted James from his indignation.

"So I could never forget the feel of the waves beneath my feet."

"And why would you ever want to remember something as trivial as that?" Severus sneered. "Or, for that matter, why would you forget it?"

"When it became apparent that I would be staying here, I thought I might never get to sail again. The seas I always knew are so far away."

"Silverdale and Blackness are comparatively near. Board any train and you could be there in a matter of hours."

"So they are," James conceded distantly, recalling them. But if that were so, why was it bright turquoise water that glittered in his mind's eye? And, like with the knot on the Whomping Willow, he felt as though this were the first time he had ever heard of a train, despite knowing what one was and recalling half a dozen rides. Now that was odd. Surely his memories had come back correctly? Had they been jumbled? Or, were they wrong altogether?

"Why did you name it the Fallen Star?" Snape broke into his thoughts.

James blinked, struggling to remember. "To - to prevent the loss of my memories - to remember where I came from," he answered with a relief that was doused almost immediately as he realised what little sense that made.

"And what does a falling star have to do with where you came from?" Snape asked aloud the question that burned in James' own mind, and in that moment, in his mind's eye, he saw carnage; the bodies, broken wood, an endless expanse of black, violent sea, and a peculiar white light that grew brighter and brighter until it seemed that was all there were in the world.

"Oh my God," he gasped, gripping the rail behind him as memories flooded into his mind, dizzying, overwhelming, and he gritted his teeth against the nausea. "My crew," he recalled with anguish. "Groves. Sparrow. Elizabeth." He squeezed his eyes shut with a growl as he struggled to regain control of himself. His brow creased. He knew who he was. When he next looked at Snape's emotionless face, he saw not a disagreeable man, but a loyal one, who had cared enough and been hurt enough to bring him back from the brink of oblivion. He smiled ruefully, trembling against the bulwark. "The false past was a much happier one." He cleared his throat to quell the shake in his voice and squared his shoulders. "But a real past is so much more fulfilling. Severus - thank you." He extended his hand, and the wizard accepted it. In that moment, that handshake might have been the equivalent of an animated man-hug from the normally detatched man, and James was grateful for a friend as loyal as him. He let out a gusty sigh. "I shall have to go and apologise to everyone now. Hand me that rope, will you? I should like to moore properly, first."

O0o0O

Lupin and Dumbledore considered one another across the desk of the Headmaster's office. "Give you joy of the return of your friend, Remus." The werewolf could not keep himself from grinning. "What do you make of it?"

"I think his countermagic has returned with his memories."

"And if it has?"

"As soon as we can be certain, we shall go through with the plan - though we shall require a room in which to do so."

"I think we may stumble upon one quite by accident that will be perfectly suited to the occasion," Dumbledore replied with a knowing twinkle in his periwinkle eyes.

"And what about sending him back?" Lupin continued. "Have you found anything?"

"Nothing of use. There is only one account in our history of a man like Mr Norrington. He died before he could return to his own world."

There! I'm rather happy with this chapter, but unless you review, I won't know if anyone shares the sentiment! Hoping to update again before summer is over!

Also, in the handshake = man hug scene, I want you all to imagine if it had really been a man hug, and be incredibly amused.