"… proclivity for causing trouble as his father, but I suppose, with you as a godfather, that was to be expected." Sirius grinned despite himself.
"He hasn't really pranked anyone yet, though, sir," he said. Dumbledore swept his wand in an arc to clear a fallen log out of their path, and smiled.
"I suppose I misspoke," Dumbledore said. "While both of the Potter boys seem to have an affinity with trouble, James preferred to cause it, while poor Harry just seems to find it." His eyes twinkled in the gloom. "Better?"
"Sounds about right, yeah," Sirius said. "Poor Harry." He squinted as a silvery light raced toward them, but it was only Dumbledore's probe spell returning. Dumbledore frowned and shook his head.
"Nothing yet," he said and sent the probe off with another wave of his wand. "I have been meaning to apologise to you, Sirius," he continued. Sirius slowed, growing wary. Dumbledore appeared oblivious, but Sirius doubted he was. "I have been watching Harry closely since November, and it seems the-" Dumbledore's eyes swept over the dark spaces between the trees. "-information you bestowed upon him has been as well received as you told me it would be."
Sirius nodded stiffly.
"I underestimated you," Dumbledore said, his tone growing sad. "Both of you. Again." He sighed. "Age is a wonderful thing, and provides us with so many chances to learn and to obtain wisdom. But, age is also blinding. Too often I have found myself believing other people less capable, or clever than myself because they are not as old-"
"Not many people are cleverer than you, though," Sirius pointed out.
"But there are some, and most of them younger." Dumbledore chuckled. "Truly it is difficult to find someone older than myself, these days." Sirius couldn't help but grin at that. "With age comes wisdom, but also foolishness, Sirius; remember that."
"Sure," Sirius said, sticking his hands in his pockets. Dumbledore's probe came back again, reporting nothing, and so they sent it off again. They walked until the trees were so thick they couldn't see the lights from the school anymore, and the leaves were so dense they couldn't see the stars. Sirius, despite his familiarity with the forest – thanks to years spent chasing Moony and Prongs around – couldn't help but feel uneasy. The air seemed thicker, and it was very quiet. Birds and the forest's larger inhabitants would be asleep, but none of the forest's thousands of little spiders were around either, and they were usually active during the night. Sirius couldn't see or hear them.
"Sirius?" Dumbledore said, and Sirius saw his hand tighten around his wand. "Can you see or hear something?"
"Nothing," Sirius said, looking around. Shivers ran up his spine and he swallowed. "Sir, I think something's wrong." As if on cue, the probe returned, no longer silver, but a deep, glowing red. Sirius' stomach twisted, and he automatically put his back to Dumbledore, so that he could look through the trees. Something moved, and Sirius heard a twig snap. "There," he said, pointing, and glanced at Dumbledore.
The Headmaster no longer looked as affable as he had before; his eyes were hard behind his half-moon glasses, and his mouth set in a stern line above his beard. He'd also drawn himself up to his full height – several inches taller than Sirius – and has his wand out before him, ready.
"Lead the way," he said gravely. A rustle, several metres to the left of the source of the first noise, caught Sirius' attention.
"They're moving." Another rustle. "Quickly, I think."
"Lead the way," Dumbledore repeated, in a harder voice. "I can keep up." Sirius hurried toward the noise, which picked up the pace at once, crashing through the trees. Dumbledore swept along behind him, leaping over logs, and dodging roots and branches with surprising agility. Sirius caught a glimpse of silver moving in one direction at the same time as another twig snapped, and someone cursed. Dumbledore waved Sirius on, turning toward the second source. "The usual messaging method," he called, as he disappeared into the trees.
Sirius didn't have time to wonder whether separating was a good idea; he plunged after his own target. After several minutes of chasing – which Sirius had had to spend as Padfoot, to keep up – the reason for his target's inhuman speed and endurance became apparent.
The unicorn had found a clearing – quite a nice place, really, with the moon visible through a crack in the treetops, and a small stream that glimmered in the starlight – to rest, and was standing on the grass, sides heaving, head bowed. Its hooves were covered in silver blood; three of its legs had been mangled by whoever – likely Voldemort – had been trying to take its blood. Sirius moved forward, holding his wand and other hand up, in a form of surrender.
The unicorn startled and backed away, tossing its head. Unicorns, Sirius remembered, didn't like men much, and this one would be particularly mistrustful. It braced itself, as if preparing to run, but its legs were shaking and it sank to the ground instead, eyes rolling around in fear. Sirius glanced at its horn – which was very long and sharp – and stopped advancing.
Ideally, he'd take it to Hagrid, but Sirius didn't have the time to try to lead it out of the forest, or to wait for Hagrid to arrive. So, Sirius lifted his wand and started to murmur the few, non-human healing charms he knew. There weren't many, but those he did know had been used on Moony, Wormtail or Prongs, and unicorns and stags weren't too different. In the end, all he was able to do was stop the bleeding and get the wounds to scab over, before he turned, leaving the unicorn, and went to find Dumbledore.
Sirius tracked his own scent through the forest as Padfoot, to the place where they'd separated, and then followed Dumbledore's instead. There was another scent there – a vaguely familiar one, that he knew must be Quirrell's – and it made Padfoot wrinkle his nose. There was something undefinably… dark about it. It made his canine side jittery.
Padfoot shook that off and leaped over a set of tree roots, into another clearing. Something moved on his right, and he could hear breathing and a heartbeat. He turned away, trying to escape, but too late; his attacker's spell hit him in the side, and Sirius knew no more.
Remus couldn't help but feel like a seventh year again, as he strolled through the halls with the cloak at his side – covering Norbert's hovering crate – and their old map clutched in his fist.
There were, of course, a few key differences; for one, he didn't have as guilty an expression as he might have all those years ago, and for two, he wasn't off to meet up with the other Marauders. He also wasn't worried about being caught, at all; McGonagall was probably tucked up in bed, nursing her headache, Dumbledore was out on the grounds with Sirius, and Snape rarely ventured out of the dungeons after dinner.
That, and Remus was a teacher himself. He smiled to himself, and twisted his wand to keep the crate gliding forward. Technically, he wasn't breaking any rules either (he was exempt from a fair few these days anyway), and he was also doing his job; he was protecting his students (four first year Gryffindors, in particular, who'd be in trouble if they were caught), he was helping a colleague (Remus was fairly sure Hagrid's role as gamekeeper allowed him to be counted as a colleague) and he was protecting the school (from a dragon that would grow quickly and be difficult to control).
Feeling pleased with himself, Remus nodded and continued on his way up to the Astronomy tower.
"… rude," Severus muttered to himself. "The very least you could do is open the door, Lupin!" he added, in a louder voice, taking no care to stop his irritation slipping into his tone. Severus rolled his eyes, pulled his wand out with his spare hand, and unlocked the door. Lupin's office was empty, and a quick spell revealed the quarters behind it were also empty, which did nothing to alleviate Severus' mood; Draco had, somehow, seen through his lie about the trapdoor, and all of Gryffindor had been particularly troublesome that week after learning he was the one that had taken points.
If it had been McGonagall or one of the other teachers, the anger would have been taken out on Draco and the others, but because it was Severus who had taken the points, it was his fault, and by association, his House's fault. The Weasley twins had hexed Hydrus Malfoy on Tuesday (not that that was unusual), Parvati Patil and Pansy Parkinson had reduced each other to tears on Tuesday night, McLaggen and his cronies had put Pucey and Higgs in the Hopsital Wing on Thursday, and the someone – Severus suspected the Weasley twins, but wasn't sure how they'd managed it, when they'd have been in classes – had broken into his office that very afternoon and thrown the contents of his desk and desk drawers around the room., and Severus had been too busy brewing to right it.
He placed the smoking goblet of Wolfsbane potion down on the desk with enough force to leave a mark in the polished wood, and then scrawled a note on the nearest piece of parchment.
You're welcome, he wrote, practically stabbing the parchment with the quill, and slipped it under the goblet.
Severus' anger settled just enough for him to wonder what in Merlin's name would require Lupin to be out of bed at eleven at night, but returned in full force a moment later.
"Would have thought this would be his top priority," Severus muttered angrily, as he turned to leave. "Selfish is what it is, putting the rest of us at risk because he's too busy off doing Merlin knows what to take the potion he requested." Severus stepped out into the corridor and slammed the door shut behind him. He was just heading down the corridor, when the alarm in Lupin's office started to trill.
"Nice to meet you, Tom," Remus said, shaking the hand of the cheery young man who'd just finished harnessing Norbert's crate between his broomstick, and that of his companion. "You too, Kate." The woman nodded, and offered Remus a small smile.
"Thanks for helping out with this; Charlie wasn't keen for his little brother to haul a dragon around the castle." Remus smiled. "He would have let him if it was the only way, obviously, but-"
"It was my pleasure," Remus said. "Give Charlie a greeting from Dora, as well. She was sorry not to be able to help, but if she'd been caught, it would have cost her job-"
"Dora?" Tom asked, and then blinked. "Wait, what did you say your name was?"
"Remus Lupin," Remus replied. Tom's mouth fell open, and his eyes sharpened. Remus shifted under the scrutiny.
"It is you," he said, and shook Remus' hand again. "It really has been a pleasure to meet you; name to a face, and all."
"Erm…" Remus said, but Tom had already moved away and hopped onto his broom. With a sly smile, he waved at Remus, and he and Kate launched into the sky.
Remus watched them until they were out of the Hogwarts grounds, and then turned away from the tower. He patted his pocket – an old habit that had returned with having the cloak – to make sure the cloak was there, and then pulled the map out of his other pocket. He scanned the forest area of the map, but couldn't see Sirius or Dumbledore – clearly, they were too deep to register – and then checked Gryffindor tower to make sure Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco were all where they were supposed to be.
Thankfully, they were, and feeling guilty that he was surprised at that fact, Remus set off toward his office.
He didn't encounter anyone one the way - it was almost one in the morning, and even teachers were usually asleep by then – but when he reached the second floor – his floor – an irritating ringing noise caught his attention. Remus recognised it at once. He spun on his heel and hurried back upstairs, to the third floor corridor.
Fluffy's door was ajar, and Remus burst in, wand aloft. Fluffy was going mental, straining against the chain that bound him to the far wall as he tried to reach the man slumped against the wall closest to the door. It wasn't Voldemort or Quirrell there, though. It was Snape. He was unconscious, and a rather sickening amount of blood was pooled on the floor around him. A quick wave of Remus' wand told him the trapdoor hadn't been breached, and he calmed a little.
"Back," he told Fluffy in a stern voice. Fluffy snapped at him, and Remus growled right back. Fluffy's ears pricked up with interest, and Remus sighed and conjured a small set of drums that put the dog straight to sleep. Only then did Remus approach Snape.
"Rennervate," he murmured. Snape stirred, but his expression was vacant; instead, he pressed a hand to his head, and winced.
"Where are you hurt?" Remus asked him. Snape blinked, apparently considering the question, and then waved the hand that wasn't clutching his temple at his leg. Remus pulled Snape's trouser up to the knee, and, had he been anyone else, probably would have been sick at the mangled sight that met his eyes. Snape glanced at it and slumped back against the wall, looking very pale. "Did Fluffy do that?" Remus asked. Mutely, Snape nodded. "Here, let me-"
"Don't touch me," Snape said, shaking his head.
"But your leg-" Remus cut off as Snape tried and failed to stand; he slid down the wall again, leaving a bloody streak behind. "Sit down, Severus, and let me help-"
"No," Snape snapped, and pushed Remus' wand away from him.
"Why did Fluffy attack you?" Remus asked. Snape opened his mouth and closed it, looking – for the first time since Remus had nearly killed him in the Shrieking Shack all those years ago – scared. "Severus?" Snape just shook his head. "Snape?"
"I was-" Snape licked his pale lips, and his eyes flicked to the trapdoor. Remus had his wand levelled at the other man in a moment.
"Were you trying to get the stone?" he asked warily. Snape just looked stunned.
"Ye- I mean, no, no I-" He pressed his hand to his head again, and Remus smelled panic rising off him, and also a scent that told him Snape was lying. Snape had tried to take the stone? Remus had never seen him so confused, or vulnerable, but perhaps it was an act… and nothing, not even Voldemort could get through Snape's mental defences, else Snape would have died in the war… and Voldemort certainly wouldn't have attacked Snape, he would have wanted his help… "I'm going to take you to the Headmaster," Remus said, mind racing.
"He's not here," Snape said woodenly.
"Then McGonagall," Remus said.
"No," Snape told him. He stripped off his outer robe and tied it around his leg to stop the bleeding. Remus hesitated, and while he did, Snape tried to stand again. Remus suspected it was sheer stubbornness that allowed him to do it; his face was white with the effort, and he was swaying dangerously, but he managed. "I'll be in my office."
"I can't let you just walk off after you've practically admitted to trying to steal-"
"Move, Lupin," Snape said, in a rather dangerous voice.
"I- no," Remus said. He lifted his wand again. "We're going to see McGonag-" Sharp, stabbing pain lanced through Remus' forehead, and he bent over, clutching his head. Snape limped past him, and Remus found he couldn't move. Physical pain was something Remushad a ridiculous tolerance for, but this was different, this was mental, and it was excruciating. By the time the sensation stopped, Snape was – somehow, despite being barely able to walk – gone.
Remus spent the next hour in a mad rush; he tried to get to Dumbledore's office, but the gargoyle was – for the first time ever, in Remus' memory – asleep, or unresponsive. Then, Remus remembered the Map and found Dumbledore wasn't in his office anyway… in fact, it appeared – since he couldn't see them anywhere – that Dumbledore and Remus were both still in the forest. Remus' stomach twisted. Snape was, as he had said, in his office, but Remus still thought it prudent to wake McGonagall. She was not impressed at being awoken, but allowed Remus to tell her what had happened.
"There must be a mistake," she said faintly.
"I don't want to believe it," Remus said honestly, "but he practically confessed, Professor."
"Severus… working with Voldemort again, though…" McGonagall shook her head. "I don't…"
"I don't want to believe it either," Remus said again. "But until we know, until we can get a proper answer out of him, we need to keep him here, in the school. Especially since he's injured." After a moment's thought, McGonagall nodded; she shut down the Floo network, banned the house elves from interacting with Snape, and reinforced the Apparition and Portkey wards.
"I'd like to see him get through that," she said. She wrapped her cloak over her dressing gown. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to speak with him."
"Do you want me to-"
"Go to bed, Remus," she said, almost kindly. "I can handle Severus Snape, as a Death Eater, or just as a grumpy man." With that, she marched off. "And I'll let you know if I hear anything from the Headmaster and Black!" she called.
Remus wandered back to his office, deep in thought; Dumbledore trusted Snape, and oddly, so did Sirius. But would they if they'd seen what Remus had seen? Remus' instincts were saying Snape hadn't done it, but the facts were pointing right at him, and this wasn't like Sirius and Peter… no one had been there to frame Snape, and he'd admitted it himself… which was odd, because Snape was a good liar, or meant to be.
Remus pushed open the door of his office and frowned because it smelled like Snape. What had Snape been doing in his office? He quickly worked it out, however; there was a cold goblet of Wolfsbane Potion sitting in the desk, with a grumpy note beneath it. Remus grimaced and carried it to the bathroom. He wasn't going to drink anything from Snape until he knew what was going on.
He glanced at the clock – it was now three in the morning – had another look at the map, and couldn't find Dumbledore or Sirius anywhere, so he flicked Sirius a Patronus message, paced for ten minutes, and then flopped down into his desk chair to write a letter to Dora.
Dear Dora, he wrote.
How've you been since Wednesday? Hopefully study's going all right, though I hope you've had some time to yourself as well; too much study's never a good thing.
I met your friend Tom; he came to get Norbert tonight. That all worked out well, thankfully, and they're on their way home.
Unfortunately, that's the only thing that's gone right tonight. I would say more, but I don't know how much I'm able to put in a letter. I know you of all people understand that. What are you doing tomorrow? Could you visit? Or even get a spare half-hour alone with your Sidekick; I'll try to get my hands on Sirius', if that's the case. Remus just hoped Sirius was all right.
This is sort of a pointless letter, sorry. Remus sucked on the end of his quill. I'm just… worried, I suppose, and would welcome your opinion on a few matters…
I miss you, and I love you,
Remus.
Remus re-read it, shook his head, and then threw the letter in the dying fire. He went back to his desk to attempt to write a letter that didn't sound quite as panicky, but didn't get much further than Dear Dora, before he slipped into sleep.
Remus was awoken only an hour later, by a cat Patronus – McGonagall's – pacing impatiently on his desk.
"All teachers," it was saying in a rather thick voice, "report to the staff room immediately."
