A/N: Another long one. Werewolves!
Magdylena Black: Thank you! I hope those differences are good! Here's that next chapter!
missalex3030: Thank you so much! I'm happy people are glad to see Sirius again.
Eirithdiel: Hahaha I was thinking the same thing when I wrote the last chapter, like, "Ah, I should give him a bath. He really needs a bath." They probably didn't have great dental care in Azkaban. And funny you should bring up Voldy - I've just started concocting a pretty important part of the story involving him and Rowan. It's not for a while though, so I guess it was just mean of me to mention it really eheh.
Nikos Pyrr: Hahaha Rowan x Sirius... Hm, I never even considered that. I'm imagining the both of them in my head ewwing at each other. I'm glad you enjoyed their reunion though! Thank you so much for the review!
SMGF1: Thanks so much as always!
eighteenethavenue: Sorry for the wait! Thanks for the review!
Disclaimer: I own none of this!
Rowling, J. K. (2000). Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Scholastic: New York.
January 2, 1984
Dear Remus,
I went and saw James and Lily today. It hadn't occurred to me until just the other day that it's been over two years now since they died - two years, two months and two days to be exact. The amount of time really hit me as I stood in front of their graves again. There was ivy growing over them already, and the tree next to them was much taller than I'd remembered. It still seems ludicrous that time is moving on without them at all. It doesn't seem right to think that I'm older than James now when all my life he's always emphasized that he is the eldest.
I went to go see their old house too. It's a ruin now - just a few walls with nothing inside - though I'm sure you already knew that. I can't decide if I'm glad or not. The little plaque outside seems so pathetic considering how important that place was. It wasn't just where James and Lily died. It's where John and Carole Potter lived, where generations of Potters lived. It's where James and I grew up. It's Harry's home. It means so much more than the end of a war. Does anybody realize that when they stand there? This was a family's home.
I went inside and took a few bricks. I broke all sorts of laws I'm sure. It's probably a felony of some sort - "Trespassing on and Destruction of a Government Monument" or whatever - but I've earned it, haven't I? I know I have much more of James and Lily than most, but I can't let go. The stairs are still there, but they're rotten to the point where I was afraid to step on them. One of the ceiling joists fell after I leaned against a wall and nearly crushed me beneath it. It was terribly painful imagining that the house I once knew so well was telling me to leave, that I didn't belong there anymore. Through all the rubble, I could barely identify where the kitchen table was, where the swing was outside in the yard. I'd never been alone in the house before - James was always with me. I kept listening stupidly, as if believing I might catch a hint of his voice again. Obviously I didn't.
It's remarkable how angry I still am. It hit me again as I stood at James and Lily's grave, thinking of how the last time I'd been there you were supposed to have been with me. It comes and goes in waves, but there are still times, especially now that I'm back home, that I'm randomly overtaken with the hottest of hatred to the point where my entire body trembles and I have to lock myself in the apothecary basement to just scream until I can't anymore. I'm beginning to understand why Master Belby was so prone to outbursts after Marie died. The first time this happened, I was left spent on the cold floor, laying on my back and staring up at the ceiling, unable to move or speak. I thought of Isaac and how he would tremble naked and exhausted on the floor of Amrit's laboratory after the full moon nights two years ago. It was humbling, picturing myself bare and vulnerable within that cage, staring up at the faces of my colleagues. It made me see him in an entirely new light.
I miss them so much, Remus. I miss you and Sirius and Peter and Fabian and Gideon and even Barty. Even through it all, at the end of the day, all I really want is to go back to how things were. When did it all start falling apart? If we'd chosen to not fight in the war, would things have turned out differently for us? Would we still be happy? Would James and Lily still be here? Would I feel so alone?
- Rowan
Chapter 24: A Web of Threads
I.
It was finally beginning to warm in the village of Hogsmeade, much to the delight of the resident potions master Rowan Delacroix. April was almost upon them, and with it the whispers of a warm breeze. Though there was still a distinct chill in the air, painted over the Scottish hills was the distinct color of spring. Rowan felt the change distinctly in her blood, a warm spark in her limbs as the days crept towards summer. She knew she'd be complaining about the heat in just a couple of months, but for now, she was very pleased with the slow shift in weather.
For almost a month now, a couple nights every week as she'd locked up shop, she'd be greeted in the evening by a large black dog and woken in the morning to a continuously healthier and snoring Sirius Black. Though he'd maintained his determination to only "burden" her as little as possible, she'd somehow managed to keep him relatively clean and his belly full. The steady nutrition was showing, much to her delight, with the heavy lines in his face lightening and muscles steadily fleshing out once more. He was still far from the youthful lady killer he'd once been in his twenties, but he was surely back on his way to the lively Sirius she'd once known. She would even go so far as to say he'd be even more appealing as he aged if this kept up - more rugged than beautiful, as he'd once been. She amused herself with the thought that she might even be attracted him eventually. But then she'd look over at him as he stumbled out of her bathroom half-asleep in the early morning, snorting and scratching indecent spots. No, never, she'd think again.
But still, she'd thoroughly enjoyed his company, gradually getting know the man he'd become over the years, and he was clearly thrilled to have a chance to spend time with her after so much time apart. He almost seemed starved for social interaction, keeping Rowan up late into the night discussing things he'd missed and various figures from their past he hadn't heard about since being taken away. He almost seemed like a child, eager to know about everything and everyone. She had to admit it was quite tiring, but it was also endearing seeing him so hungry to take on the world once more. She wanted to believe he'd be able to take advantage of what this new world had to offer him soon, despite Peter's continued missing status.
The fourth Marauder had slowly been creeping into her mind more and more as Sirius' presence became a regular fixture in her life. Despite believing him to be a hero for so many years, Rowan had frequently been hit with waves of guilt at realizing how little she thought of Peter. He deserved to be mourned like James and Lily, but no matter how brave he'd been - or rather, seemed - nothing in her had ever ached to see him again. While James, Lily, and Sirius had all clenched a visceral part of her - kindred spirits, she thought - Peter had never strummed any particularly harmonious chords in her heart. She wanted to miss him, really, but how could one miss a dead man she barely knew?
But now that the truth had begun to really sink into her and all the implications that came with it, Rowan was shocked to find that where there was little affection, there was also little hatred. True, he'd killed James and Lily - she should despise him, want to feel her knuckles crack through his very bones - but she couldn't find it. Perhaps it was because he'd never held much weight in her mind at all. Perhaps because he'd never been much of a real person to her that he was an almost insubstantial focus for her disgust. Theoretically, he was everything she hated - the worst of self-preserving cowards - but in reality, there wasn't much emotion to be found. Maybe she'd spent all of it already. Maybe there was only so much hatred one person could expend in a single lifetime. All she could do was hope that they found him soon.
It was late morning with the spring sun crawling higher into the sky, spilling into her windows and glinting off of the polished wooden shelves of the apothecary. Rowan yawned tiredly as she carefully pulled the concentrated sticky green revitalizing potion from its cauldron with a carefully turning wand. It snaked its way into one vial and then the next. This batch smelled distinctly of apples - her most recent attempt at sweetening the concoction. She hoped Stewart enjoyed this one better as the honey had not reacted well with the last month's batch, instead making it cringingly sour. She yawned again and grumbled a bit to herself as she thought of Sirius, who had left at dawn that morning after keeping her up late into the night with talk of the new Muggle motorbike models he'd seen while in London. Rowan, of course, had no knowledge regarding the subject and could only nod her head along to Sirius' excited ramblings, lost amid the flurry of Muggle terms she'd never heard. She wished Lily were there to take her place - she'd always been able to keep up with this topic with Sirius. Rowan thought to herself morosely that she should really put in more of an effort to understand Muggle culture.
Ring.
"Hello?"
Rowan wide yawning mouth stretched into a fond smile. She knew that voice.
"One second!" she called from the back. With one final ladle, she dripped the gooey green potion into the last vial and corked it cleanly, wiping any remnant from the lip crisply. She then reached up and pulled the goggles from her face, quickly combing the stray hairs of her bun back with her fingers. She then scowled slightly at herself - what did it matter what she looked like? It certainly didn't matter to him, right? She grabbed the few vials and made her way quickly towards the storefront where a tall, slender man with light hair was already seated at her counter. He smiled happily at her.
"Morning, Winnie," he said. She smiled.
"Morning, Remus. How're you feeling?" she asked. Remus shrugged.
"Not so bad today - I really think the green stuff has been helping a lot with the fatigue. I get the feeling tomorrow's transformation will be pretty smooth," he said optimistically. Rowan nodded and smiled as she turned for the smoking cauldron. That was exactly what she wanted to hear - the green potion seemed to be doing its job well. She ladled a tall glass of Wolfsbane out for him and set it down on the counter cleanly. As he tipped the smoking potion back, she filled another glass with the mixture of water and green potion. Its sweet smell filled the air. She grinned as Remus placed the first glass down with a twisting grimace, reaching for the next urgently. He then took a long draught from the second. He swished the potion around in his mouth and then set it half-empty down on the counter with a satisfied gasp.
"Damn, that's really good," he said wondrously. He looked at the mixture curiously but noted no noticeable difference. "You figured out the sweetness factor?" Rowan nodded.
"Apple," she said. He nodded and took another sip. "I think the acidity helps to keep its sweetness while brewing. I'm glad it turned out well." Remus smiled as he set the glass down again, now empty. He looked up at her with a soft smile.
"You look damn tired," he said. He then pointed to the corner of his own eye and nodded to her. Rowan groaned and rubbed at her eyes. There were still remnants of sleep there, crumbling away itchily beneath her fingers.
"Fucking Snuffles and his fucking motorbikes all night," she grumbled under her breath. Remus frowned heavily.
"Who?"
Rowan looked up with surprise to see something flicker in Remus' gaze. She frowned at the strange expression. She hadn't seen him make that face at her in years. What was he angry about?
"Snuffles," she repeated, clearly this time. She eyed him warily. Remus' face suddenly lightened with understanding before frowning with confusion again.
"Is he staying with you? Here?" asked Remus in a hushed tone, leaning forward slightly. Rowan shook her head.
"No, he's up in the mountains, but he comes by a couple of times a week to shower and eat and all, and I'm usually able to convince him to sleep on my couch those nights. It's just that when he does, he ends up keeping me up half the night talking about random shit. Last night it was Muggle motorbikes until 3 o'clock, and last week it was every Zonko's toy that had come out over the past decade. He forgets that while he can nap the day away in the sun, I have to work," she said tiredly, rubbing her eyes again. She blinked rapidly to try to keep the fatigue out. Remus smiled amusedly and nodded.
"I see. I'm glad to hear you two are bonding again," he said. Rowan frowned.
"Did you not know he was here?" she asked. He nodded his head.
"I did, but I haven't heard from him in a few weeks. I also forgot about that ridiculous name," he said with a grin. Rowan laughed.
"It is ridiculous, isn't it? I can't believe that's the one they went with. He doesn't even look like a Snuffles!" she joked. She looked at Remus fondly. "You should come over the next time he stops by for dinner. I think he said Thursday. I promise my cooking has gotten better," she said. He smiled warmly.
"I'm sure your cooking is still as amazing as it always was," he said. Rowan felt her cheeks warm, but she smiled back happily. But then he gave her a strange searching look, eyes narrowing slightly. She frowned.
"What?" she asked uncomfortably. He gave a stiff smile.
"You're in a good mood," he said. Rowan narrowed her eyes at him.
"Why wouldn't I be?" she asked. He looked shiftily at her then reached into his robes and pulled out a copy of The Daily Prophet. He slid it towards her across the counter.
"I'm guessing you haven't read today's paper." Rowan frowned.
"No, why?" she asked, taking the paper apprehensively. Remus grimaced.
"Page 3," he said. Rowan nodded and opened it up.
The top article's title read: "HARRY POTTER'S MOTHER WOLF." Rowan's breath caught for a moment. She shot him a questioning look, and his grimace deepened. She looked back down with dread. With it, there was a photo of her, Remus, and Harry, seemingly from after the Second Task. They were each glaring, speaking quietly amongst each other. She frowned. She didn't recall any photos being taken around them at the time. Though she knew they were probably discussing Barty Crouch at the time, to an outsider she imagined it would appear that they were fighting. And as she caught the name "Rita Skeeter" under the article, her stomach tightened, knowing that whatever words came next would not be positive.
"Harry Potter, currently the focus of much attention as the scandalous fourth champion in the Triwizard Tournament currently being held at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, seems to be attracting all sorts of beasts and the like. As was reported by The Daily Prophet a few weeks ago, the current Professor of Care of Magical Creatures and dear friend of Mr. Potter, Mr. Rubeus Hagrid, was discovered to be half-giant, and now, it has come to light that another close friend and confidant holds strange ties to other dark creatures - namely, werewolves.
Master Rowan Delacroix, commonly regaled as co-founder of the groundbreaking Wolfsbane Potion, has recently reappeared in Harry Potter's life, and through the Prophet's investigations, it has been discovered that she is, in fact, the late James Potter's oldest childhood friend and Harry Potter's godmother. Why this information has been kept secret from the public is unknown, but what is clear is her strange fascination with werewolves.
Recently hailed as a champion of werewolf rights and research, Master Delacroix has certainly painted a benevolent and diligent image for herself. However, what was also kept from the public eye is her relationship with a certain Remus Lupin, a registered werewolf. Our readers might remember Mr. Lupin as the former Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor who resigned in disgrace last year from his position at Hogwarts after having his condition discovered. What they might not know is that Mr. Lupin has played a large part in Master Delacroix's path towards fame and prestige.
"We went to school together. Everyone knew Rowan Delacroix and Remus Lupin as a couple," said one source, who chooses to remain anonymous. "But even though we didn't know Lupin was a werewolf back then, we still feared him and feared for Delacroix. They had a tumultuous relationship, and he was always quiet and a little standoffish. I always suspected he was abusive towards her. I can only imagine the horrible treatment she received."
Was Mr. Potter aware of his godmother's questionable past? Of his former professor's dark side? An impressionable orphan in search of a mother's love - is it not cruel that his mother-figure is consorting with such shady characters? Does the Boy Who Lived not deserve a safe home environment, not threatened by the influence of dangerous creatures? We can only hope that Master Delacroix takes the boy's best interests to heart and reassesses her values. What is more important: her godson or her claim to fame?"
Rowan's breath came shallowly as her eyes scanned over the last words. Her hands had crumpled the newspaper hotly into her fists as she'd read through the infuriating article.
Fame? Skeeter thought she was doing this for fame? She wanted to reach through the paper and wrap her fingers around that miserable woman's throat. That shaking fury, the screaming heat shot up her throat and into her face. Something in her told her calm down, but her muscles were already tight with the sudden impulse to break something.
"Rowan," Remus said carefully. But she could barely hear him. There was a rush of anger in her ears. Her fingers sank into the crackling paper. She took a shaky breath. Remus' face began to melt with deep concern at the trembling of her shoulders. "Winnie," he urged concernedly.
"One... Just..." she choked. She took another breath through her nostrils, clenching her eyes shut. Willing all of the noise of the outside street and shop from her mind - the voices, the laughter, the soft sound of Remus' breath - she pinpointed that acute fury, that anger. She gathered all of the words of Skeeter's article into a long thread, which tangled into a clumped ball of heat at her temple, right above her ear. Her cheek twitched with effort as she held it there and then reached her wand up shakily. Pointing the very tip of it to that spot, she grit her teeth and pushed the ball outward. Its unwieldiness caught at her skull and unraveled as it pushed out. A chill shot up her spine as the little dead star left her. Still with eyes shut, she rummaged through her pocket and pulled out a tiny vial, flicking the cork off with a clumsy thumb. She opened her eyes, focusing pointedly on the small vial, and drew her wand to the lip where the unraveled silvery thread fell in.
She sighed as she saw the silvery thread dissolve into a shimmering liquid. It glinted slightly in the bright morning light. Tiredly, Rowan realized her collection of vials up in her office was steadily growing ever larger. She'd have to expand the cupboard again. She set the vial down onto the counter and searched around dumbly for the dropped cork. She waved her wand again, and it shot to her hand. Remus looked deeply disturbed as he watched her now languid movements.
"Are you okay?" he asked. Rowan nodded tiredly as she corked the vial.
"Yeah," she mumbled. She closed her eyes again, taking another slow, shaky breath. Her hand wrapped around the vial tightly. She could feel the heat that still remained soak into her skin through the glass. It felt strangely soothing to her now cool frame, now that it was no longer a part of her. She sighed and opened her eyes to see Remus' gaze hard on her. She offered a weak nod of acknowledgement.
"I'm sorry. I must've looked insane to you just now. I just..." she paused, licking her lips nervously. "I get angry sometimes," she explained awkwardly. Remus nodded slowly.
"That never happened when we were together," he noted. Rowan nodded.
"It started happening after the war ended. Every so often I'd just get hit with a fit of rage, usually whenever I thought of James o-or..." she hesitated. Or you, she thought. "My mum tried to get me to go to therapy, but I guess my pride makes me feel weak for it. I know that's stupid, but there it is. So I've started storing some of the more bitter memories. It helps, but I'm left feeling pretty spent after removing them." Remus smiled sadly in understanding.
"I see," he said. Rowan looked to him guiltily again.
"I'm sorry. That's not something I'd have wanted you to see. It's just..." she paused, feeling the now subdued anger swirling slowly in the vial, still in her hand. "It's just that that Skeeter woman really sets something off in me. Sometimes I think she's worse than even the Death Eaters we once fought. At least they had ideology behind their actions, twisted as it might have been," she ranted bitterly. She felt the heat pool again in her gut, but it remained subdued, lapping at the lining of her stomach quietly. Remus nodded thoughtfully.
"Yes, she doesn't seem to have any boundaries when it comes to getting a story. I have to say I'm amazed at the research she managed to scrounge up though regarding the articles she's written this year. Your relationship with Harry isn't exactly public knowledge, and I don't recall her being anywhere close enough at the First or Second Tasks to overhear anything that might have suggested you're Harry's godmother," he said. Rowan nodded, frowning heavily. She hadn't thought of that.
"Harry thinks she has an invisibility cloak or something to help her come and go unnoticed," she said. Remus' mouth tightened.
"We'll have to be careful of what we say in the future then," he said. Rowan nodded, suddenly feeling very paranoid. She sped through their conversation and hoped that she and Remus had been discreet in their references to Sirius. The chances of Skeeter being in the shop just to eavesdrop on them when there were so many other more interesting stories were slim to none, but she didn't want to risk it.
She felt a heavy weight on her and looked up to see that Remus was still frowning at her. She grimaced slightly, realizing she'd zoned out for a moment in her brooding.
"What?" she asked, feeling shifty under his gaze. His lips twitched upward into a half-smile.
"You... I never imagined..." he said slowly, seemingly feeling his own thought out. "I never would have imagined you as struggling with anger before, but it sort of makes sense - not that you'd be naturally inclined towards anger, but that you would have many reasons to be." Rowan frowned with confusion. He sighed and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "I don't know what I'm saying. I guess I just find it regretful that you have so much to feel angry about when you shouldn't have to have so many reasons," he said. Rowan's chest tightened but she shrugged casually.
"We all have reasons to be angry. You just caught me on a bad day I guess," she said turning to the cupboard below with the tiny vial of memory. She placed it safely, tucked to the side, and made a mental note to place it with the rest upstairs in her office at the end of the day. She remembered her mother's words from Christmas: You either need to maintain a respectable distance from him and be casually friendly, or you need to explicitly discuss where you stand with each other and make sure that you both know where the lines are. She'd had nearly four months since then to prepare herself for that clarification, but she realized suddenly that she still wasn't ready to breach such intimate topics with him. She wasn't ready to discuss all the reasons she was still angry, somewhat surprised to acknowledge that there still was anger directed at him at all. The buffer would remain for now.
She met his gaze finally as she stood and frowned at the searching look on his face. It made something beneath her skin crawl anxiously. He was too close. She needed to get him out of there quickly.
Ring.
Rowan nearly sighed with relief as she looked to the door, plastering an hospitable smile to her face. Her lips stretched into a genuine grin, however, at the sight of a tall burly man and the petite woman at his side. They both beamed at her.
"Eugenia! It's been so long!" she greeted happily. The small woman moved forward swiftly to the counter and reached over to grasp Rowan's hands warmly. Her husband Stewart followed, shaking Remus' hand in salutation brightly. The younger man beamed back.
"Rowan, how are you?" the older woman asked. "I'm sorry it's been so long since I've come by. Work has been a constant struggle recently, and I just haven't had a single free moment to get away from the office." Rowan squeezed the woman's hands affectionately.
"I'm doing just fine. It's wonderful to see you," she responded. Her face melted with concern. "Is your company hurting from the recent disappearances as well?" Eugenia's face pulled into a fierce glower.
"Unfortunately. It seems more and more people are going missing these days. One of my managers stopped showing up to work two weeks ago, and it's been hell since," she said darkly. Remus frowned questioningly. Rowan looked up at him, suddenly remembering he was there.
"Oh, Eugenia, this is my friend Remus Lupin. Remus, this is Stewart's wife Eugenia. I think I mentioned her last time you and Stewart were here together," she said. Eugenia turned and smiled brightly at the younger man.
"So you're Remus," Eugenia said appraisingly. She shook his hand with a surprisingly firm grip and looked him square in the face as she spoke. Despite her tiny frame and the roundness of her pixie-like features, something about her was very bold. "I've heard a lot about you. Stewart tells me you and Rowan go far back," she said. Remus nodded.
"Yes, since First Year," he said. Eugenia seemed to consider this with approval. Rowan watched their interaction carefully out of the corner of her eye as she ladled a portion of Wolfsbane for Stewart. The small round-faced woman had always seemed to have good instincts when it came to the characters of others. She wondered what the older woman thought of Remus. She turned back to the counter and slide the glass across to the large man, who grinned knowingly at Rowan and winked. She narrowed her eyes at him. He lifted the glass and nodded to Rowan.
"Cheers then to the master," he said teasingly. Eugenia and Remus turned, remembering the two others and watched as Stewart tipped the smoking potion back. As he guzzled the second, Rowan gestured to Eugenia to join her on her side of the counter. She hopped up onto the tall stool just as Stewart swallowed the last drop.
"It's fantastic, isn't it?" asked Remus, nodding to the faintly green glass with a smile. Stewart nodded enthusiastically.
"I was about to say, you've really outdone yerself this month, missy. Tastes just like apples!" he barked. Eugenia matched his grin, both turning to Rowan happily. She smiled sheepishly.
"Anything to get that wretched taste out of your mouth," she said. Stewart made a dramatic gagging sound at the mere thought of the Wolfsbane. Eugenia rolled her eyes and turned to Rowan pointedly. She smirked darkly.
"I reckon you've seen the article then?" she asked. Rowan glowered.
"Unfortunately. You best believe the Prophet is going to be receiving a very angry letter from me tomorrow," she said darkly. Stewart smiled sheepishly.
"Don't let them get you down, missy. That Skeeter woman writes nothing but rubbish. Everyone knows it," he said. Rowan shook her head sullenly and sighed.
"I know, but I'm still bound to get a few hateful letters after this. And Harry's going to get the brunt of it at school. He already gets picked on enough as it is. The last thing I want is for him to get more shit from his classmates because of me," she said mournfully. Stewart smiled sympathetically.
"Don't worry. Just remember things can always be worse. Remember how much better things have gotten in the past ten years. Harry will be fine," he said. Rowan nodded, though her lips still tightened. Right - it was silly to underestimate how strong Harry was, and at least he didn't have to endure the real prejudice that came with being a werewolf. Eugenia turned to Remus again with a polite but hard look.
"So first year - you two have known each other quite a long time," she said. Remus nodded warily. Rowan watched the older woman with a careful eye. She was certainly a tactful woman - she couldn't have made such a successful career for herself with a werewolf husband otherwise - but she could be pushy. Rowan wondered where Eugenia was leading this conversation.
"Right," said Remus. Eugenia's lip twitched upward amusedly.
"So why haven't we met you before now? Stewart says you were just a babe when you were bitten," she said. Rowan's face suddenly began to tingle hotly. She looked down into her mug and berated herself silently. Why did this embarrass her so much? They were friends now, weren't they? What was so wrong about admitting that they used to date? It's not like either was still sore about the topic. It'd been so long, after all.
"We just kind of fell out touch. You know, she went to do research in Hungary, and then I was struggling with work. We just lost touch and before I knew it, ten years had passed," Remus said casually. Rowan slowly released the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Remus had obviously rehearsed this in his head before - at least one of them had had the foresight to do so. It was obviously vague, but it was sufficient. She silently thanked him with a tiny smile. He returned it warmly. "But I have to say I have no idea how I could've gotten on ten years without seeing her. There's really no one else out there like her," he added kindly. Rowan's face warmed again. She saw Stewart shoot her a cheeky smile.
"Yeah, she's quite the special one, ain't she?" he teased. Rowan glared at him.
"So how did you two meet?" Remus followed up. The older couple shared a warm smile.
"Also in school - we were Hogwarts sweethearts," Eugenia said. Stewart beamed at his wife. Rowan smiled fondly - they were obviously still very much in love with each other.
"Stewart said he was nineteen when he was bitten though," said Remus with a frown. "You were with him then when it happened." Eugenia nodded with a soft smile.
"I was. It was difficult at first coming to terms with it all obviously. We fought a lot, but we made it through," she said. Stewart nodded.
"Would ya like ta hear the story?" he asked Remus. "The master will have to forgive me - she's heard it a million times - but I reckon hearing about First Bites is always interesting," he said. Rowan's chest tightened - this wasn't the kind of tale she'd prepared herself for on this day. She glanced to Remus quickly to see him nodding. Her stomach clenched. He was going to hear it anyway, so why not now? Both she and Stewart took a deep breath in preparation. She grit her teeth as the older man began to tel his tale.
Genie here and I met during our Sixth Year at Hogwarts - I was a Gryffindor, she a Hufflepuff. She caught me sneaking around the Astronomy Tower after hours - she was a Prefect, see. I don't remember exactly what it was that I was doing up there - probably something dumb - but she let me go with a warning. The catch was that I had to do her Transfiguration homework for her the following week on Human Transfiguration. Funny how that works, eh? I was real good at Human Transfiguration and then ended up transfiguring on my own every month without a wand in the end.
But anyway, we met up a few days later, and she gives me her assignment. Turns out she's already made a real muck of her essay, so I had to sit her down and go through it with her step by step. Takes a few days, but by the end of it, I've taken a real liking to her. I was scared though - she had a reputation of being a real hard ass, and I was kind of the class clown. I ended up making a big ass of myself quite a few times trying to work up the courage to ask her to Hogsmeade until she finally gave up and just asked me instead. Got to say nothing gets my blood going like a saucy lady.
So we start dating. Things go smooth into our Seventh Year and then past graduation. We start talking about moving in together. I got a cushy job at the Ministry, as does she in International Trade. I'm planning on proposing to her at this point - just saving up money for the ring - but then the worst happens. I got bitten.
I'm still not exactly sure how it happened. I was still living at home with me mum - she wasn't well at the time - and we lived in a little cottage in the woods up north. It was a pretty dense forest, but it'd never been known for being dangerous in anyway. Every once in a while a wolf would come out and steal a sheep from some Muggle farmer, but that was about it. By most accounts, it was a very typical forest - barely anything magical about it at all.
But this one night - November 5, 1963 - I was coming home late from work after a long day. I'd gone in late, you see, so I'd stayed late to make up for it. I Apparated into town at around 10 at night, and as I was making my way through the woods outside of town to my house, I heard this rustling, and this gray thing pops out from the trees.
I thought it was just a wolf at first. I'd never paid attention in DADA class I guess, so I didn't take in the typical features as anything odd. It just looked like a big wolf to me, and it seemed so tame. It just kind of stared for a while, like it was trying to figure me out. And me being a sucker for animals thought, "Oh, look at this little guy. He's probably just scared." So I tried to approach it. I'm sure you can imagine the rest.
I woke up at home in bed. Some of the neighbors had heard me screaming I suppose and were able to kill the werewolf who'd attacked me - turned out to be some sad bloke from the town over who'd been bitten just a few months before. Sad, really - he'd gone mad with the realization of what he'd become and run off from home. But it was enough to damage me. I was definitely turned.
I also nearly lost it. I got sacked, me mum died, and I kept hurting myself during my transformations. I'd lock myself in the basement with every protective spell I could think of, but it just made me turn on meself. Our neighbors completely turned their backs on me - didn't want anything to do with me, even tried to drive me out. At this point, I'd simply stopped contacting Genie - figured she didn't need me holding her back as I was now. She was mighty upset about it, but I was too deep in my own self-pity to even consider anyone else.
But it was during this time that I met another young werewolf. His name was Fenrir Greyback, about nine years older than me. He was the leader of a small pack of other young werewolves, creating a sort of support group for those who'd had their families turn their backs on them, and when he heard about me, he came knocking on my door. He turned up at my house about eight months after I'd been turned.
I was lonely and afraid and hurting, so you can imagine how welcome of a revelation this was to me - that there were other sad folk out there like me. I took to their group immediately - even offered up my home as a sort of base for the pack. Fenrir was the older brother I'd needed at the time - someone worn and experienced from the years alone, someone who was willing to bequeath his knowledge to me. He'd seen and done things that I'd feared and respected - going out alone and giving up the remains of his past life to find others like him. He was generous with his time and attention and always patient with us younger ones. He was our pack leader in every sense. To say I looked up to him would be an understatement. For a young kid like me, he was the fierce standard I wanted to hold myself to.
We ended up staying there for about a month before deciding to make our way up north to join the Gladaman tribe. I'm sure you've heard of them. It was a pretty long trek. A few in our group didn't have a good grasp on magic - quite a few were underage wizards, sadly - so we had to make our way up by foot. And with the monthly cycles, we couldn't go for too long without getting completely exhausted. And with the full moon nights to consider, our route was even more roundabout as to not come across any towns or cities during our transformations. It was a long and cold journey, and we ended up losing one of the young ones along the way - ended up hurting himself too bad to heal during one tough cycle. By the time we started getting close to the Gladaman, we were on edge, just about to lose it. And then Fenrir and I started seeing things a little differently.
It came up during one of our rare visits into a town for supplies. There was an old wizard in one little village who knew his stuff about werewolves - he spotted us a mile away. Of course, he pointed our condition out to the rest of the village folk, and before we knew it, there was a small mob trying to drive us out. Me, I just wanted to get out. I didn't want to fight, and I certainly didn't want to hurt nobody. But Fenrir was close to breaking.
He'd been a werewolf for nearly five years at that point, bitten similarly as I'd been. But he hadn't been so lucky as to find a pack right away. He'd been orphaned young, so he didn't even have a family to accept or reject him. For a long while, he wandered alone, through the woods and mountains, avoiding people and towns. He could do magic, but he wasn't great at it. Eventually, he broke his wand while out in the wilderness and rejected all ideas of wizarding communities, choosing to live a hermit's life. Eventually, he found a few others like him and decided to create a pack of his own.
But time was cruel, as are people. It twisted him, made him angry, bitter. In the face of this mob, something snapped in him. I'd already taken a few of the younger ones and run, but he and a couple others stayed behind. We got separated for a few hours, and by the time we found them again outside of the village it was dark. And on their hands and mouths was blood.
It was clear what they'd done. I was horrified. Most of us were, but I think there's something about human blood. Once you've had it as a werewolf, especially if you're still in your human form, the body takes a craving for it. It's like your nose takes hold of that scent and clings to it like a compass. After that, they were never the same - harder, crueler. I started fearing what they'd do if we were to stumble across another town. I nearly got into several fights with them on the rest of our journey in my attempts to steer us clear of the few villages we passed. Luckily, I was able to push us hard across the final stretch to the Gladaman. I'm afraid to think of what might've happened if I hadn't.
Most of our group was happy to finally make it. We were tired and starving by the time we arrived, and the tribe there welcomed us with open arms. The chief back then was a coarse man, but he showed us hospitality and made us their own; however, Fenrir wasn't satisfied.
I don't know if it was the blood or just the disappointment of finding that life in the tribe was still damn hard after spending so much time fantasizing about the werewolf utopia we'd been told. He started trying to take part in the tribe council, pushing for more aggression towards the other tribes and the Ministry officials who came every so often to officiate. Fenrir didn't like this, not at all. He wanted to revolt against the officials who kept us there in the cold, in the unforgiving climate of the north. He wanted to take more land. The longer we were there, the more extreme his beliefs became, and the more I began to fear him. Fortunately, the chief put his foot down and Fenrir in his place - no revolts and no violence would take place while he was chief. After a few months, Fenrir left, taking two others with him. I never saw him again.
I stayed with the rest of my pack, but it was lonely. I'd finally found the tribe I'd wanted, a place to call home where all the other tribesmen were like me. But still, I was so lonely. It was cold and gray, and survival was still a struggle, even with our brethren. I missed the city and the warmth of my bed. I missed magic and the feel of my wand, which I'd snapped in half at the beginning of my journey there. But most of all, I missed Eugenia. I missed her desperately.
There were a few pairs of mates and even a couple who had adopted werewolf children in the tribe, but I could find absolutely no desire to mate. I knew I'd found my one and only, and I'd left her behind in London with a note and the pieces of my wand. As far as I was concerned my one chance at love had been abandoned with my life as a wizard.
But then, about a year later, she just showed up there.
I thought I was dreaming. There, at the chief's tent was Eugenia, windworn and furious and beautiful. I'd never thought I could be more in love with her as I'd been when I'd left, but at that moment, there was no other man in the world more in love than I was. She'd come all the way there alone from London to drag me back home. I found out later that she'd threatened one of those Ministry officials into telling her where the Gladaman were, and she'd packed up and charged into the mountains to come find me and drag me home to London. I can't even tell you what happened after that. I remember her slapping me across the face and then watching her pack all of my belongings into a tiny little knapsack. Before I knew it, we were marching through the snow once more back to the city, and I was home.
The rest of it is boring stuff - her slapping me loads of times and calling me stupid and me apologizing. She quit her job at the Ministry, and we moved to Montrose where she set up shop and started her own trading company, which has thrived over the years. And I'm a stupid man, but I done fucked up enough to learn well that I needed to make this woman my wife. So I proposed and we got married a couple years later, and we lived happily ever after.
Stewart grinned proudly at the trio around him as he finished his story. Rowan smiled tightly as she mulled over his words. She'd already heard most of the details of his story many times over the years, but the connections to Remus still made her chest tighten anxiously. She wanted to look up at Remus but couldn't find the courage for some reason. She was hesitant to call the feeling in her face shame.
She remembered his journey north to the Gladaman during the war and the fear and pain it'd caused them both. Would she have been able to charge into the werewolf territories alone in search for him? Probably not - it was much more dangerous during the war. She probably wouldn't have come back alive, especially after the coups that had taken place there back then. She wondered if those people were well. She wondered what happened to the fallen chief's daughter Cassandra who had helped Remus escape. Had she been killed as well?
"Amazing," breathed Remus wondrously. "Amazing. I can't believe how strong you two are. And it's remarkable how many ties there are between our stories." He paused, brow furrowing. Rowan could see him make a decision. "Very significant ties, actually - I was bitten by Fenrir Greyback... about half a year after he left the Gladaman."
Stewart's eyes bulged. "No," he whispered. Remus nodded grimly.
"February 21, 1965 - I was just about to turn five," he said. "He broke into my bedroom window and attacked me in my sleep. He was untransformed, but he did enough damage to infect me." Stewart shook his head, lips twisting painfully.
"I'm so sorry, lad. I obviously know about his reputation now, but I had no idea he'd gone to such extremes so soon after I last saw him," he said sadly. Remus smiled softly.
"There's nothing to apologize for. You weren't the one to bite me," he said. He then looked to Eugenia. "And your story is really remarkable, truly. There's really so much to admire you two for. Thank you so much for sharing it with me." Eugenia smiled graciously.
"Nothing to admire - when you're in love, you're in love," she said simply. Stewart beamed at her. Remus smiled quietly.
Rowan kept her eyes glued to her mug. She hadn't raised them throughout Stewart's story, afraid to look at her company. She hadn't thought of the Perpetuas' story in a long time, and she'd never expected Remus to hear it after all their years apart. And wasn't it uncomfortable for him to hear it with her there? There were obviously many significant similarities between their stories - only that they hadn't had the same happy ending.
"What're you lookin' so down for, missy? I said we lived happily ever after!"
Rowan looked up, face reddening, to see Stewart grinning down at her. She grimaced sheepishly and forced an embarrassed smile to her face. She was making a fool of herself again. Act like a damn adult, Delacroix, she thought to herself angrily. Remus sighed.
"Well, I'd best get going," he said, looking up at the clock. Both Rowan and Stewart frowned.
"What? So soon? Stay for lunch! We can all head over to the pub!" he argued. Remus smiled but shook his head.
"Thank you, but I promised to run some errands for my father, and it's getting quite late," he said. Rowan frowned. She hadn't seen Lyall since Christmas. Had she really gone so long without stopping by to visit? She grimaced inwardly - yes, ever since Remus had returned home to the Lupin household, she'd been making up excuses not to go. Perhaps it was time to get over her stupid reservations and just accept that she was bound to revisit uncomfortable familiar situations, now that Remus had reappeared in her life again. Remus smiled at Stewart.
"Please let me know about the next W.R.C. meeting. I think I'd like to get involved," he said. Stewart once again broke into a broad grin, tooth gap showing sharply. Eugenia also beamed. Stewart stood to his feet and engulfed Remus into a swift hug. The younger man gasped slightly as the wind was knocked from his lungs but smiled all the same. Rowan's stomach lurched slightly as she watched the two men. Another reason he would remain a fixture in her life now - when had he made this decision? What had made him choose to join?
"I'll be sure to let ya know or have the master here keep ya informed," Stewart said happily. Remus nodded and smiled at Rowan. She smiled tightly and then looked back down. Eugenia eyed her with an arched brow. Remus said his goodbyes, waving to Rowan and shaking Eugenia's hand once more.
"I'll see you tomorrow morning, Winnie," he said. Rowan nodded and forced a smile to her face. She noted that there was a red tinge to his ears, though his face remained straight.
"See you," she said. He smiled once more and stood steadily, eyes averting, and with one last ring of the door he was gone. Rowan took a deep breath.
"He seems like a very nice man," Eugenia noted. Rowan nodded vaguely. He'd seemed eager to leave - perhaps he'd felt more uncomfortable than he'd let on. Maybe she wasn't the only one who still felt embarrassed in the face of their failed story.
"He is," she said honestly.
"A damn good man!" Stewart boomed. Eugenia looked at Rowan thoughtfully, ignoring her husband's loud tone.
"Is he employed?" she asked. Rowan frowned.
"I'm not sure, to be honest," she answered. She realized this was the second time she'd been asked in the past few months and yet she still hadn't bothered to find out. "I don't think he is actually," she added. Eugenia nodded.
"Is he any good with potions?" she asked. Rowan smiled amusedly.
"It was actually his worst subject. Why?" She remembered fondly all the afternoons in the dungeons as teenagers, with him cursing quietly over his cauldron, hands fumbling with butchered ingredients. She'd always laughed at his poor attempts and had even tutored him in the subject. There was something refreshing in knowing that even the most brilliant people had something they were bad at.
"Hm, well, that's unfortunate," Eugenia said. Rowan frowned. "I was thinking - he seems like a very intelligent man. Seems like a shame he hasn't been able to find work that really utilizes his gifts. I thought maybe you could offer him a position here as an assistant or something," she said. "I know that probably presents a whole slew of issues between you considering your history, but it's just an idea."
"How do you know about our history?" Rowan asked. Even if Stewart had had his suspicions, she'd never confirmed any of them. Eugenia smirked up at her.
"That Rita Skeeter might be full of dung, but there's usually a layer of truth there in her stories," she said knowingly. "Besides, even if I hadn't read that article, I'm smart enough to recognize sexual tension when I see it," she said smartly. Rowan's face burned at the sound of Stewart's burning laughter. "Just food for thought," Eugenia added. Rowan covered her face with her hands and shook her head, deeply embarrassed. It seemed that no matter how she tried to avoid certain things, some stories were just bound to resurface, whether she was the one to bring them up or not.
The Perpetuas teased her a bit more throughout lunch, but she knew it was in good fun. And no matter how pained their story might leave her, even now, she was comforted by the fact that another couple had weathered the hardships that came with the lycanthropic condition. She wondered if in an alternate universe Belby and Marie were that couple. Maybe in another universe, it was her and Remus.
As she placed that angry memory from earlier in her cupboard later that evening, she gazed over her expansive collection of shimmering vials, each carefully labeled. She wondered if she might be able to share those as well someday as Stewart had shared his. Perhaps, like him, she'd eventually be strong enough to look back on those harder times and smile.