Chapter 70: The Moon

The start of the new term came far too quickly for Remus.

It was too soon for the holidays to be over— and with them, any excuse for delaying in telling Harry about the final Horcrux.

It was too soon to take Harry away from Sirius. On Christmas Day, Harry had quietly told Remus that Sirius hadn't slept in at least 48 hours and Remus had considered forcibly dosing Sirius with dreamless sleep potion. (Thankfully, it had not been necessary.)

It was too soon to face Dolores Umbridge.

It was too soon for another full moon. He hated it when the moon fell in the first days of the term. He'd hated it as a student and he hated it as a professor.


Snape, likewise, made more than a few comments regarding how very busy he was at the start of the term and how unreasonably burdensome it was for him to brew the Wolfsbane Potion as well. Remus didn't argue. He knew that it was true.

"Is Black already hidden in your office?" Snape asked in a low voice as he handed Remus the final goblet of potion.

"He is."

"Good. I believe that that woman is still lurking about. You cannot allow her to see anything that might make her suspicious."

Remus swallowed the potion— disgusting, as always— and contemplated for the umpteenth time how truly bizarre it was to have Severus Snape on his side. "Thank you, Severus."

"Do not flatter yourself and imagine that I'm doing this for you." Snape's black eyes sparked. "I merely wish to have certain things eliminated in a timely manner, and at the moment your miserable presence is required to achieve that end."

He held the empty goblet out to Snape. "It's nice to be required, don't you agree?"

"I do not."

At another time, Remus might have laughed. Tonight, though, the end was too near for anything but utter sincerity. "Then I hope that you soon find out what it is not to be required, if that is what you truly wish for."

"Do stop talking like an ironic seer in a tale of Beedle the Bard."

It might be his last chance to thank Severus properly, or even to apologize for having believed that he had deliberately maimed George Weasley. "I know it has been difficult for you—"

"Leave my office!"

And Remus left.


Sirius was, of course, awaiting him in his own office. He had considered asking Sirius not to come; he couldn't give Umbridge and her spies any additional reasons to be suspicious. But he had concluded that Sirius' need for company after destroying Voldemort's locket was more important than delaying the inevitable.

Besides, as everyone knew, Sirius was exceptionally talented when it came to not getting caught.

Presently, Sirius was curiously flipping through the notes Remus had laid out on his table. Remus wanted whoever took over his classes for the balance of the year to be properly prepared, and so he had summarized what each class had studied, which lessons remained, and the particular needs of most of the students.

"You understand that this level of organization is an illness, correct?" asked Sirius. "They make potions for this sort of thing."

"I believe Severus doesn't have any interest in brewing further potions for me."

Sirius clenched his jaw. "Severus. Don't tell me you've changed your mind about the man who sold a baby's life to Voldemort and regretted it only because that baby's mother happened to be Lily Evans Potter."

"We don't know that that's precisely what happened," said Remus with a sigh, even though he was reasonably sure that that was, indeed, precisely what had happened. "And we don't know how his views have changed since that time. Some of the things you believed when you were a teenager—"

"Stop!"

Remus stopped and returned to the task of gathering the notes together.

"I'm tired of it," Sirius continued to Remus' surprise. One generally didn't expect Sirius Black to elaborate unprompted once he'd given an order and that order had been followed. "I don't want to hear anything else about teenage Death Eaters for at least a year. Speaking of teenage Death Eaters, you forgot to put in your notes about Narcissa's brat that he's basically a spineless coward who tries to buy his way into whatever he wants."

"I assumed that the next professor would realize that as soon as he or she saw the name Malfoy."

Sirius accepted the weak joke as the peace offering that it was. "He's really an above-average student?"

"Why shouldn't he be? Neither of his parents are fools, and they've given him every advantage."

"I just hoped the Black inbreeding would rear its ugly head with him."

"You aren't that inbred, Sirius."

"You're too kind."

It didn't matter how kind he was or wasn't. He was a werewolf, and he was working illegally, and it was the night of the full moon, and his borrowed time had almost certainly run out.

It was almost a relief when the transformation came. Everything that could be done that night had been done. There would be no more talking: no more searching for the right words to thank Severus or Sirius. Not that Sirius, at least, needed words or wanted thanks.

Trapped in his wolf body, his human mind ran through the notes he'd left for his successor. The first years were just starting to do more practical lessons. The third years needed to review hinkypunks; on the whole, they were too easily distracted. The fifth years were well-prepared for their OWLs already, and the review sessions needed to be mixed with intense practice at non-verbal casting to challenge the stronger students. The seventh years were as a whole a brilliant group, and the problem was that far too many of them knew it…

He began to pace the room, loathing as always the click of his claws on the floor.

There was nothing else he could do tonight.

Sirius tried to give him a scratch behind his ears, but it didn't feel as good as it usually did. He had a terrible urge to snarl at Sirius.

"There's nothing more you can do, Moony," said Sirius, not unkindly. "Not tonight. You might as well relax until morning."

Because that was what Sirius did when he was terrified and frustrated?

"Fine," said Sirius at last, and with a pop he became the great black dog. Almost before he had transformed, Sirius leapt atop Remus and tackled him.

The ensuing wrestling match was, at least, a distraction until the locks on his door rattled and sprang open.


Dolores Umbridge entered, flanked by two Aurors. Both Aurors had their wands at the ready.

Remus froze.

Sirius transformed and drew his wand.

"Don't hurt the werewolf unless you need to," said Umbridge in a sickeningly-sweet voice. From the expression on her face, Remus could tell that she thought herself very generous. "He will be punished by the law. He will set a better example in Azkaban than in a graveyard."

"Does Dumbledore know you're here?" Sirius asked.

"The Ministry does not need Headmaster Dumbledore's permission to arrest a dangerous creature who is in violation of the law," Umbridge simpered.

"Kreacher!" The elf appeared at Sirius' feet. Without taking dropping his gaze from the Aurors, Sirius addressed Kreacher in a remarkably neutral tone. "Kreacher, please report what you see here to Headmaster Dumbledore right away. Wake him up if you must, though I expect you needn't this close to sunrise."

"Belay that order, elf!" snapped Umbridge.

Kreacher, of course, ignored her and vanished with an almost-polite "as Master wishes."

"You would think Dumbledore would have asked the house-elves to have a bit more respect for the Ministry," Umbridge sniffed.

"He's my elf. He merely works at Hogwarts." Sirius' voice remained pleasantly neutral, and only an experienced fighter would have been able to see that Sirius was maintaining a dueling stance. The Aurors, though, were experienced fighters themselves. They, too, looked ready to attack.

Remus rather liked Sirius' chances three-on-one, actually, but it was better not to find out if he was right.

What Remus didn't like was that his role in this drama— this drama that centered around his very right to exist— was to stay still. If he gave the Aurors and Umbridge the slightest excuse, they would attack him. They might have attacked him already, in spite of Umbridge's protestations that he was worth more in Azkaban than dead, had Sirius not been there to witness his arrest.

It was for Sirius' own safety, then, that Remus cowered behind his friend while Sirius faced down two of the best trained wizard-catchers in Britain and one sadistic blood purist.

They also serve who only stand and wait.

A timeless sentiment. It had not, Remus suspected, grown any easier to accept with time.

Then a familiar shudder ran down his back. The sun was beginning to rise. In a few moments' time, he would be human, and his transformation— that most personal of all things— would be witnessed by three uninvited guests.

No.

Six.

He could hear voices in the corridor. Kreacher's message had been delivered and Dumbledore had decided to summon both Minerva and Severus. Remus wasn't certain who he least wanted to witness his distorted nudity: his onetime professor or his old rival.

Not that he had a choice.

(If he'd had a choice, it wouldn't have been any of them. It would have been Filius Flitwick, who had first-hand experience with living inside a body that made strangers feel free to stare.)


There was a scuffle and some shouting during the brief moments of pained blindness and cracking bones. When Remus was able to observe the room properly again, Sirius had covered him with a quilt, draped a robe over his shoulders, and surreptitiously pressed a wand into his hand.

"…Utterly reckless," Umbridge was saying. "Half the children in this school might have been murdered tonight. Or worse than murdered— turned."

"Every student at this school is perfectly safe, and has been perfectly safe for the past two and a half years. When Wolfsbane Potion is taken properly—"

"And who exactly is responsible for seeing that Wolfsbane Potion is taken properly? The beast itself?" She cast a look of utter revulsion at Remus; the two Aurors followed suit.

Remus didn't bother to be offended. No one knew it other than Sirius and Dumbledore, but he had, in another time and place, forgotten to take the potion and put students in danger.

The worst thing about Dolores Umbridge was that she wasn't entirely wrong all of the time.

No one seemed to care that Remus hadn't said anything. His throat was dry and raw from the transformation; perhaps he wouldn't have been able to speak if he'd tried.

"Who is to say the potion was even brewed properly?" Umbridge continued. "It is an immensely complex potion, so much so that it cannot reasonably be mass-produced or widely distributed. There is no way to tell whether it will even be effective on any given night." One of the Aurors was nodding sagely. Remus didn't recognize him. He hoped that the Aurors were not Dora's friends.

"Professor Snape is one of the most skilled potioneers in the world, if not the most skilled of all. If anything had gone wrong with the potion, he would have noticed and corrected the error."

"Is that true, Professor Snape? You believe that that thing is harmless?"

Severus' lip curled into a sneer, and Remus knew that any slim hope of ever securing any sort of pleasant relationship with the man had evaporated. Severus was now in the position of arguing that Remus was safe or arguing that his potion was imperfect.

He was not going to tell anyone that any of his potions were less than works of art.

"I believe that the potion was properly brewed and worked as it was intended to work."

"Every time?"

"Every time."

Umbridge sniffed. "It doesn't matter. The werewolf is in violation of the Child Safety and Work Opportunity Reconciliation Act. Auror Gordon and Auror Robards, please remove him."

So that was who they were. Gawain Robards was next in line for Scrimgeour's position and Dora hated him, not least because he had formally reprimanded her for killing Igor Karkaroff in self-defense. Dora had a more complicated relationship with Maria Gordon, but had been less than pleased with her as of late.

Robards looped one arm around Remus and dragged him to his feet while Gordon kept her wand trained on Remus' heart. Under his robe, Remus let his fingers clench the wand Sirius had given him. It wasn't his own wand, which was good, because it would likely be lost between here and Azkaban. His own wand, then, was hidden and under Sirius' protection.

For all of his comments about calming down and jokes about Remus' class notes, Sirius had prepared for just this eventuality.

Umbridge had prepared, too. "Headmaster, I am not ignorant of the awkward position in which I have placed you. I know that the Defense Against the Dark Arts position is infamously difficult to fill, and you were reduced to hiring this… creature because no one else was willing to take the job. Therefore, I would like to volunteer my services. I can make arrangements with the Ministry to begin teaching tomorrow."

"Thank you for your kind offer," said Dumbledore. "But I made arrangements as soon as the house-elf notified me of Professor Lupin's arrest."

Beside Remus, Maria Gordon smirked almost imperceptibly. Her wand, still aimed at his heart, never wavered.

"I should thank you doubly for giving me the idea," Dumbledore continued. "I understand that when you interviewed Professor Snape last term, you intimated that he would prefer to teach Defense rather than Potions. I can sometimes be a foolish old man, and perhaps I felt that because Severus is an undisputed genius when it comes to potions, Potions was the subject he was best suited to teach. But it occurs to me that I, myself, taught both Defense and Transfiguration before I became Headmaster, and I believe I benefitted greatly from the variety. Severus has graciously agreed to teach Defense this term."

"That leaves the Potions position vacant. Surely Professor Snape is unable to teach two classes simultaneously."

"I would hesitate to place any limits on the heights Severus may reach. However, I happened to have the opportunity to speak with Horace Slughorn recently. You will remember him, High Inquisitor Umbridge, as he was your own Head of House when you were in school. Professor Sughorn recently made the acquaintance of Harry Potter at a Christmas gathering, and young Harry was most impressed by Professor Slughorn and did not hesitate to express his admiration. I'm afraid he may have flattered Horace most shamelessly; I've no idea why he took it into his mind to do so. In any event, Professor Slughorn has no objection to returning to his old post as Potions Master for a term to make certain that Harry and his classmates are properly prepared for their OWLs."

For a moment or two, Umbridge's mouth hung open. She looked more like a toad than ever. "It is wonderful that you are so well prepared, Headmaster Dumbledore."

Dumbledore inclined his head graciously. "I have learned a trick or two in my many years at this school. Perhaps most importantly, I have learned not to underestimate the willingness of those around me to provide aid in difficult circumstances."

Once again, Umbridge was rendered blissfully speechless. She forgot to make her voice sweet and girlish when she recovered herself. "Gordon! Robards! Did I not ask you to remove the werewolf to the holding cell at the Ministry so that we can complete the paperwork transferring him to Azkaban? You will both swear affidavits to what you saw this morning and file them before noon!"

The Aurors nodded, and Robards dragged Remus roughly toward the door. Remus didn't want to look at the others as he left— didn't want to see the pity on Minerva's face or the concealed anger on Sirius' face or the triumph on Severus' face— but he raised his head anyway. If anyone needed to warn him of a plan to which he was not yet privy, he needed to look up to see the signal.

He saw nothing. Nothing, that is, other than pity on Minerva's face and concealed anger on Sirius' face and triumph on Severus' face.

They passed through the door to Remus' outer office— who was going to mind the grindylow? he'd neglected to make arrangements— and then through the door to the long corridor. Far in the distance, Remus saw a flash of trainers and a suit of armor righting itself after having been rudely brushed into the wall.

He wondered how much Harry had overheard, tucked away under his invisibility cloak.

He wondered why Robards and Gordon weren't turning aside to take the shortest possible route to the entrance hall and the great front doors of the castle. He nearly asked, but his throat was too dry to speak.

In the end, he got his answer without asking. Robards and Gordon planned to parade him straight through the Great Hall while the students were at breakfast. They were going to thrust him before his students while he was half-dressed and too weak to stand on his own.

Many of the students weren't properly awake at breakfast, Remus reminded himself. Many of them stared bleary-eyed at their toast, completely unaware of their surroundings. Many of them wouldn't notice as long the Slytherin students at the far table didn't make too much of a fuss as he passed by.

There was a roar as the three of them entered the Great Hall.

There was no chance of the students failing to notice, then.

Every student was on his or her feet, and every one of them was screaming.

He recalled the nightmares he'd had as an eleven-year-old whose classmates had no inkling of his darkest secret. His expulsion from Hogwarts had always looked something like this. The only wonder was that it had taken so long.

He heard some of the shouts he'd expected to hear. Monster, of course. Good riddance, and enjoy Azkaban, oddly polite.

There were a few more organized chants, as was to be expected from children who had spent their young lives memorizing myriad songs in support of their favorite Quidditch teams.

Kill the wolf! Kill the wolf!

But this was quickly drowned out by a louder, stronger chant. Kill the cow, keep the wolf! Kill the cow, keep the wolf!

Umbridge is a cow! Umbridge is a cow!

It was a surprisingly mild insult. But then, it was early in the morning.

They were nearly at the door before eggs, sausage, and porridge began to fly through the air, guided by some neat levitation charms to land almost entirely on Remus' Auror escorts rather than on Remus himself.

Gordon and Robards were forced to stop near the end of the Gryffindor table so that Robards could properly cast a shield charm around himself. Remus could see now that Harry had actually climbed onto the table, and was doubtless responsible in no small part for this riot.

Remus looked at the students closest to him and pointed at the carafe of pumpkin juice. Harry was watching him and jumped to help, but Namrata Vemulakonda was closer and handed him her own full goblet.

The juice soothed his throat. "Thank you, Namrata," he said. "See that someone takes care of my grindylow, would you?"

"Yes, Sir," she said, and the Aurors hurried to rush him out the door.

The crowd of students followed, booing and jeering. There were professors in the Great Hall who ought to have stopped them, but no one seemed to be making much of an effort.

They reached the edge of Hogwarts grounds and with a crack of hasty Apparition Remus found himself in a musty-smelling holding cell. The scent of eggs and porridge on the Aurors' robes mixed unpleasantly with dust and damp.

It was oddly quiet; the students' shouting still rang in his ears.

Robards finally relieved him of the wand he'd concealed beneath his ill-fasted robe.

Remus didn't care. He was tired, and Namrata's pumpkin juice was sweet in his mouth, and he sank to the camp bed in the corner of the cell to rest.


When Remus opened his eyes again, it was to the sound of Dolores Umbridge clearing her throat.

All things considered, he had had more pleasant wake-ups in his life.

"You know that this is better than you deserve," she said. Statement, not question. Whisper, not shout.

"You don't need to say anything. We both know that I am right and that I have done the right thing by removing you from the children you would have harmed, as you were harmed, once, when you were a child. Do you remember what it is like to be human, or were you too young when it happened? Don't try to answer. If your time in Azkaban does allow you to feel regrets, though, please know that the Ministry will use every means necessary to undo the damage that you have done. We will set those children to rights, from the champion Cedric Diggory all the way down to little Namrata Vemulakonda with her pumpkin juice."

Umbridge mispronounced Namrata's name terribly, and that more than anything else was what made Remus remember that he didn't agree with her.

She left and he went back to sleep.


He was awakened again by the first Howler from an angry parent.

YOU DISGUSTING COWARD! HOW DARE YOU REFUSE TO REGISTER AND PUT INNOCENT CHILDREN AT RISK? HOW DARE YOU PRETEND TO BE A HUMAN BEING? YOU WILL NEVER BE A HUMAN BEING!

He was too sleepy to guess at who had sent it before the envelope exploded.


He was more prepared for the second Howler.

I HOPE THEY BRING BACK THE DEMENTORS JUST FOR YOU!

He thought that it was probably Bertrand Cotterill's family who had sent that one. Oddly, Bertrand was in Namrata's House and year. They had never liked each other, he recalled.


YOU DIRTY VILE ANIMAL! AZKABAN IS TOO GOOD FOR YOU! I HOPE YOU DIE!

By the third Howler, he decided that he didn't care enough to guess who had sent it after all. He was never going to teach at Hogwarts again. With the exception of Harry and his friends, he would never see the students again.

If he didn't survive Azkaban— if he had a bad transformation without Wolfsbane Potion and no one was there to heal his wounds— he wouldn't even see Harry again.

What did it matter that most people hated him and a few people loved him?


YOU USED DARK MAGIC TO ABUSE INNOCENT CHILDREN AND IF THE MINISTRY DOESN'T BRING YOU TO JUSTICE I WILL!

By the fourth Howler, he was just annoyed that he wasn't allowed to sleep for more than a few moments. He had hoped to have a rest before his transfer to Azkaban. He needed to be ready to come face-to-face with Bellatix Lestrange, who had once killed Sirius. And Antonin Dolohov, who had once killed Remus himself. And Peter Pettigrew, who was as responsible as anyone for the murder of Lily and James.


YOU ARE A FLITHY BEAST! YOU DESERVE TO DIE! YOU ARE A FILTHY BEAST! YOU DESERVE TO DIE!

With the fifth Howler, he wondered whether any of these people really believed that they were telling him something he had never thought about himself.

It was strange, really, how similar the Howlers were to the Horcrux that had tortured Sirius. At least, unlike Sirius, Remus didn't have an audience as enchanted voices serenaded him with his worst fears and insecurities.

At least, he didn't have an audience until his escort to Azkaban arrived.

He looked up to see Dora and Kingsley standing side by side in the corridor.

To be continued.


Auxiliary Disclaimer: They also serve who only stand and wait is originally from the John Milton sonnet "When I Consider How My Light is Spent," though obviously quoted widely and in varying contexts.

Author's Note: I've received several reviews complimenting me on Namrata Vemulakonda's name. I've shared this with at least two of you via direct message, but I may as well say it to everyone: her name came from a random name generator. Random name generators can be specific to the point of letting you set parameters that a character was born in 1983 in the United Kingdom to parents originally from India. My favorite random name generator is name-generator dot org dot uk, and my backup is behindthename dot com .

Author's Note: Same as last time. I hope you and your families are safe and well. Life is hard. Please go easy on me in the reviews if you'd like to use this story as a temporary escape from the world.

Recommendation:

On the Mend by MrsTater. It is story ID number 6849328 on this site.

Summary: Having survived the final battle, Remus Lupin and Severus Snape need healing from more than just their war wounds. AU.

There's so very much I like about this one-shot, but nothing more than the speech at the Hogwarts opening feast. And I won't say more than that. It's not even 5000 words; you can read it yourself if the summary interests you. :)