Chapter 64: The Inspection
Remus' first hint that anything had gone wrong with the dueling exercise came when he sat beside Flitwick at the staff table the next morning. Flitwick's tone and expression were both more serious than usual.
"Remus, we need to discuss Edward Owens. I believe you're teaching the sixth-year class today."
"Yes," Remus agreed. He felt a pang of anger that Edward Owens had done something that warranted Flitwick's concern. Edward was Teddy's name. Therefore, all other Edwards ought to behave in a way that justified sharing it.
"As Mr. Owens' Head of House, I've already taken points from him. He will be spending the next month serving detention in the kitchens."
As far as Remus knew, the easygoing Flitwick had never before punished a student so severely— and Edward Owens was one of his own.
"However," Flitwick continued, "I strongly suggest that you do not allow him to take part in any sparring that may be a part of your curriculum for the foreseeable future."
"I will," Remus found himself agreeing before so much as asking why. "What happened to warrant such a severe punishment?"
"You and Sirius made quite an impression, dueling like Muggles once you'd both lost your wands. When he and Lyssa Banks managed to disarm each other last night, he took the opportunity to slide his hand under her bra under the guise of attempting to beat her to the wands. He claimed, of course, that the contact was incidental, but I was looking directly at them when it happened."
Remus closed his eyes in annoyance. He had thought that the night had gone so well.
"I arranged for some immediate justice by allowing him to face Stephanie Wheeler in the championship duel for the sixth years," Flitwick added. "He's no match for her, as she's far the best duelist in sixth year. She and Miss Banks are good friends— lived in the same town before they came to Hogwarts. I'll find an excuse to give Miss Wheeler points for Slytherin when I have her this morning."
"Is Lyssa all right?" Remus was irritated with himself for taking so long to ask. His student's well-being should have been his first thought, long before he'd lamented the stain on his dueling exercise.
"She tells me that she is, but do let me know if you spot anything out of the ordinary with her."
Remus felt doubly guilty as he realized that he knew very little of what was ordinary for Lyssa Banks. She was part of the group of sixth-year Ravenclaws that included Cho Chang and Marietta Edgecomb. Her work was good but not outstanding; she was quiet but not too quiet; she had a way of blending in with the others.
He'd been teaching for more than two years now. He ought to have been better at it.
He entered his first class that morning with a renewed resolve to improve as a teacher. He firmly forbade himself to dwell on the fact that the year before, Dora would have been beside him because it would have been an Imperius day.
The Hufflepuff fifth years greeted Remus cheerfully, and a chorus of voices asked what spells they'd be studying today.
"We do love the practical lessons," said Hannah Abbott, and the others nodded in agreement. "But are practical lessons enough to prepare us for our OWLs?"
Remus couldn't blame Hannah for doubting that her professor was capable of properly preparing her for the most important examination of her life. Most Defense professors simply weren't. (Remus still felt a bit put-out on behalf of the students who had had Gilderoy Lockhart for a professor in their OWL year. He'd tried to correct the damage for the few students who had chosen to study at the NEWT level, but only so many students were able to make up for so much lost time while balancing their other classes and obligations.)
"There is a practical component to the OWL exam, you know," he told Hannah. "I believe it will be easier for most of you to write about a spell you know how to cast than it would be for you to cast a spell you've written about. That said, you should not neglect your reading and you will have a lengthy essay to write later this week."
Some of the students groaned; others looked relieved.
"Wands out, please," Remus told them, and just then the door opened to admit Dolores Umbridge.
He half-expected his teaching career to end right there.
"Good morning, Professor Lupin," she said. "I apologize for not giving you warning that I would be inspecting you today. I am sorry for the inconvenience."
(The thickest mountain troll on the planet would have realized that she was not sorry. Remus' desk probably realized that she was not sorry, and the desk, being a desk, had no sentience whatsoever.)
"It's no inconvenience at all," said Remus in his most pleasant tones. He hoped his pleasant tones were more convincing than her apologetic tones. "I'm delighted to do whatever I can to help the Ministry in its evaluation."
"Very well. How long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?" She began the interview as if a classroom full of students wasn't listening avidly, if confusedly.
"This is my third year."
"Albus Dumbledore hired you?"
"He did."
"My understanding is that Headmaster Dumbledore found it rather difficult to fill the Defense position, did he not? You were not his first choice for the job, nor his fifth, nor his twentieth."
"The Headmaster did not share that with me. He offered and I accepted."
"Surely you knew that there was extreme turnover in the position. No teacher held the position for more than one year for over three decades."
"That sounds correct," said Remus mildly.
"Until you." Umbridge stared. The students stared.
"That does seem to be the case."
"There are rumors that the job was cursed."
"I've never heard anything to substantiate those rumors," Remus lied placidly. "It may have been just bad luck."
"So you've no idea how it came to be that you, of all people, are the teacher who lasted more than one year in the position. You took no steps to… ensure that you would break the curse?"
"I could hardly do so, not being aware of any particular curse."
She stared at him, as if expecting him to break under her gaze. Indeed, he was in danger of breaking—not in danger of telling her anything, but in danger of letting his distaste for her show. He wanted to glower. He wanted to swear. He wanted to frog march her out of his classroom, his classroom, the place where he did work and was good at it and was able to support himself and be part of the world.
"What were your qualifications before you took the position?"
"I had done some tutoring, of course. A bit of freelance dark creature maintenance."
"You'd never held a steady job."
"This is the longest I have ever held a job, yes."
"Why do you think that is?"
"Because none of my other jobs were as rewarding or as much fun as this one. It's an honor to teach these students."
As if on cue, the class applauded. Remus could have wept with gratitude.
Umbridge whirled to look at the students. "Silence until you are spoken to, please," she commanded in her girlish voice. Most mumbled their apologies; Susan Bones, though, was looking back at Umbridge with an open insolence that surprised Remus.
"So, then," Umbridge continued. "You left your previous positions… voluntarily?"
"When you're hired to capture a grindylow, the job ends when the grindylow is caught. When you're hired to teach a child to read, the job ends when the child can read."
"What about when you're hired to clerk in a jewelry shop, Professor Lupin?" she asked sharply.
So she had researched his employment history on her own. Of course she had. But she didn't know, she couldn't know… or she would have exposed him long before this. "Clerking in a jewelry shop is not nearly as stimulating as inspiring young minds."
"And not nearly as stimulating as operating a dueling club on school grounds?" she asked sweetly.
"I suppose not." He wished fervently that he had never conceived of the idea. He'd begged Harry not to antagonize Umbridge, and then he'd drawn attention to himself.
"What did you hope to achieve by asking the children to attack each other?"
"I hoped that they would hone their spellwork under challenging conditions." It was ridiculously bland. It wasn't bland enough, and he knew it.
"Are you aware that students were injured last night, Professor Lupin?"
"I am aware of no injuries that were not immediately remedied." He was thankful that this was happening in front of a group of fifth years and not a group of sixth years. If he'd had to have this discussion in front of Edward Owens or Lyssa Banks or even Stephanie Wheeler…
For an instant, he disliked himself almost as much as he disliked Umbridge.
She clucked her tongue. "Typical of Dumbledore, I see, allowing his teachers to take such an unconventional approach."
It wasn't unconventional at all. Hogwarts had hosted dueling clubs off and on since the days of the Founders.
"This dueling exercise," she continued. "It was for the students in the fourth through seventh years?"
"Yes."
"And you teach an overview of dark creatures to the third years, I believe."
"You are the son of Lyall Lupin? The great expert in non-human spiritous apparitions?"
"I am."
"He has some rather strong opinions on werewolves as well, does he not?"
Remus' heart pounded. She didn't know anything. She couldn't know anything. His father would never have been foolish enough to say anything, hadn't said anything publicly about werewolves since before Remus' fifth birthday. "His area of expertise is—"
"I am well aware of his area of expertise, but I am not interested in boggarts or poltergeists. I am interested in a story I heard. A story that will take us back many years, to when you and I were mere children."
He would have loved to have pointed out that while he had certainly been a child at the time of the incident in question, he doubted that the same was true of her. But it would have been both petty and dangerous to do anything but nod politely.
"Fenrir Greyback is the werewolf responsible for more carnage than any one individual in a century," she began. "In early 1965, he was captured and brought in to the Control of Magical Creatures department after two Muggle children were found murdered, with the telltale signs of werewolves all around. Greyback denied killing them. He swore he was merely a Muggle tramp and not a wizard. His name was not on the Werewolf Register and he had no wand, but Lyall Lupin thought there were signs in his appearance that he was a werewolf. He told others in the department that they should lock him up until the full moon. The others, quite unjustly, laughed as he told them that werewolves are soulless, evil, and deserving nothing but death. It was only after Greyback escaped that the others realized how right your father was."
It was dizzying to hear the horrible story repeated here, in front of his students, by a woman he despised.
He wanted to scream and rant at Sirius, who was the only person alive he trusted with his screaming and ranting.
Instead, he stood and listened politely.
"You must be very proud of your father," she said.
"I am," he said, and that at least was true. He was proud of his father's intellect. He was proud of his father's ability to admit that he had been wrong. He was proud of the way his father had loved his mother and had never treated her as less-than because she lacked magic. He was proud of the way his father had weathered the storm that came with a lycanthropic son when he could have abandoned Remus to death or to the pack.
"You," said Umbridge, pointing at Ernie MacMillan. "Did you learn about werewolves in your third year?"
"Yes," said Ernie.
"Did you learn how to recognize them?"
"They can be easily distinguished from regular wolves by their shorter snout, more human-like eyes, tufted tail—"
"And when they take their human form?"
"They are often scarred, thin, and dirty. They're sometimes missing teeth. But you can't tell for sure unless it's the full moon. If someone always disappears around the full moon—"
"Very good. What is the best way to kill a werewolf?"
"Avada Kedavra."
"It seems that your students have managed to learn something despite your ridiculous exercises," said Umbridge.
"Ernie is very bright," said Remus mildly, and Ernie puffed out his chest with pride.
"Professor Lupin is the best Defense professor we've ever had. We're very happy that he's here this year, when we have to take our OWLs."
"Thank you, Ernie," said Remus.
"I daresay you're well prepared if there is a question on werewolves," said Umbridge to Ernie. "Though if I've anything to say about it, you will never need to know. I only visit Hogwarts from time to time, you know, because most of my days are spent at the Ministry drafting legislation to protect children like you. Did you know that it is not technically against the law for a werewolf to walk into this school and begin teaching a class?"
Some of the students gasped. Remus concentrated on his breath and his heart rate and not on which of the students looked most frightened.
"That will be remedied soon," she continued, beaming beatifically at the class. "The Child Safety and Work Opportunity Reconciliation Act will forbid all werewolves from working in any place of business within five miles of a school, a residence, or any place in which underage children may reasonably be expected to congregate."
He remembered that law. He remembered ranting and raving to Sirius in a musty bedroom at Grimmauld Place. Sirius had let him scream himself hoarse before opening a bottle of wine and insisting that the Order needed Remus more than Remus needed to support himself, anyway.
Umbridge continued to talk about the new law until the class ended and the students filed out, bound for Professor Sprout's greenhouses.
"I'm afraid you didn't get to see me teach," Remus said lightly.
"I shall watch twice as carefully next lesson," she replied.
His next class happened to be Ravenclaw first years. He was more than a little relieved; he did less hands-on magic with the first years so early in the term. He let Professor Flitwick give them a good grounding in charmwork before he began to teach them to use those skills to defend themselves.
The students entered in ones and twos and threes. Remus tried to greet them all by name.
"Good morning, Amanda. Good morning, Jerry. Jennifer, did you remember your book this time? Gus and Jasper and Keaton, please pull those chairs into the circle, thank you. Sarah and Nicole, you seem to have enjoyed Transfiguration this morning…"
"You're very familiar with them," said Umbridge. "Do you always call your students by their given names?"
"Usually," said Remus. "Of course, if the Headmaster asks me to do otherwise, I will do so."
She wrote his answer in her notebook. He regretted implying that Dumbledore was at fault for his teaching methods.
"We're going to review the riddles of the sphinx," he told the class. "You'll have heard some before, but others not. Please take out your quills and write this down…"
Umbridge did not say a word throughout the class, and when it was over, she left without saying goodbye.
It took everything in Remus not to collapse into his chair and bury his head in his hands while he waited for the seventh years. He didn't dare risk letting them duel today, and he knew that some of them would object rather loudly to being asked to remove their books from their bags and take notes.
The day would have been bad enough had the full moon not been looming later in the week. When his classes were over, Remus escorted himself to Severus' office to await his daily dose of Wolfsbane Potion.
He was reasonably certain that Severus wasn't going to poison him.
He almost wished the man would.
He thought for an instant that he might get his almost-wish when he saw Severus storming toward him, his thin shoulders thrown back and his face twisted into a sneer. If Remus had had the energy, he might have teased Severus about what exactly his last class had done to provoke such a reaction. As it was, he stood quietly and awaited the smoking goblet.
"Come inside and close the door," Severus growled. "I think that that woman is still lurking about."
Oh. It hadn't been the students, then. "She inspected you after she inspected me?"
"It gives me physical pain to say this." He stopped and adjusted the potion, perhaps deciding not to say the painful thing after all. Then his lips parted again, as if unwillingly. "You were right." He ladled the smoking potion into a goblet and handed it to Remus.
Remus took a drink. It was awful, as always. "Right about Umbridge?"
"I would rather put up with you than with her. That's why I didn't want you drinking this in the corridor. She would love to have you removed and take the Defense position herself."
Remus shuddered at the thought, or else he shuddered as the Wolfsbane Potion made its way through his body. "She mentioned wanting the position?"
"Not as such. She asked me repeatedly whether I had applied for the position and been refused. Then she asked me whether I had held leadership positions when I was in school myself— prefect, Head Boy. Horace Slughorn had the good sense to never make her a prefect and she's still angry about it. She enjoys her little legislative triumphs, but not nearly as much as she enjoys coming back to Hogwarts in a position of authority."
Remus didn't believe that Severus had ever voluntarily shared so much information with him so willingly. It was odd, what Dolores Umbridge brought out in people. "They may be one and the same once the Child Safety and Work Opportunity Reconciliation Act passes."
"Are you going to resign like a good little werewolf when that happens?"
"It's up to Dumbledore." If the law was as he remembered it, there were no repercussions for someone who knowingly hired or even concealed a werewolf. The repercussions fell entirely upon the werewolf himself. Dumbledore might prefer that Remus stay at Hogwarts while they searched for the last pieces of Voldemort's soul.
"You would stay, and risk Azkaban?" Severus managed to be scornful of both of Remus' options. "Though Azkaban might not be worse than teaching ninety-five percent of the students in this institution."
Remus swallowed the last of the potion and returned the goblet. "You don't like teaching, Severus?" It was a simple question. It was one he had never much considered in the past, so busy was he with his own challenges.
"I don't like this conversation. Come back tomorrow for your next dose."
Remus nodded and left. His head was pounding and he planned to close himself in his bedroom until he absolutely had to help oversee dinner in the Great Hall.
But thoughts swirled through his mind even in the quiet of his room. It was a nasty irony. Remus, who loved Hogwarts and teaching, was about to be legally barred from them (again). Severus, meanwhile, was bound to stay in Hogwarts with his miserable memories of his school years even though he had no real desire to teach.
Somehow, it had never even occurred to Remus that not everyone enjoyed teaching as much as he did.
"What would you like, Severus?" Remus asked aloud. The empty room gave him a more polite answer than the man would have, but Remus was no more well-informed than he had been a moment before.
He hadn't seen the drama playing out between Edward Owens, Lyssa Banks, and Stephanie Wheeler at the dueling club. He hadn't seen that Severus viewed his position at Hogwarts as a curse, not a blessing. He hadn't seen the true meaning of his memory of the night George Weasley had lost an ear. He hadn't seen the change in Harry when Karkaroff had stolen the diadem. He hadn't even seen that the diadem had been stolen.
There was so much that he did not see, even with his unusual advantage.
(Above all, he hadn't seen Dora for weeks. He hated that.)
To be continued.
Recommendation:
Remus is busy with Hogwarts this chapter, so I recommend…
The Story of Four Friends by Star of the North. It is story ID number 1769213 on this site.
Summary: Twenty years before Harry Potter entered Hogwarts for the first time, four young men had made that self-same journey. Twenty years before Harry Potter there were the Marauders. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. This is their story. Post HBP. Complete.
MWPP-epic authors usually plan to cover age 11 to age 21… and fizzle out before age 14. Here's someone who actually finished! The author did excellent work in creating a set of female friends for Lily, as well as a particularly memorable scene of the Marauders breaking into Werewolf Summer Camp. I also thought the series of gut punches that marked James' transition from bullying prankster to mature Head Boy was well done.
Possible detractions: it's 300,000+ words, it's mostly but not entirely canon compliant, and it's occasionally clear from the prose that the author was very young at the time of writing. But… it's a complete Marauder wall-to-wall saga!