Chapter Thirty Seven

The fortress of Azkaban shrunk back into the gloom, smaller and smaller until it had vanished entirely, swallowed up in the mist. The further they travelled, the fresher the air became - it was still salty, still stingingly cold … but now, when he breathed in, Remus did not feel like his lungs were being smothered from the inside. A few miles away from the island and snow began to fall - great, wet flakes drifting down and settling on the boat. A while later yet and Remus heard one, lonesome cry of a seagull.

The mist was still thick, almost impenetrable - and Remus was not sure if this was caused by the dementors, or if it was just a normal winter sea fog. Everything was grey though, and he could barely see his hand in front of his face.

There was a lamp attached to the front of his boat, though he doubted the dementors needed it to see where they were going. He didn't think they had eyes - though thankfully he had never seen under their hoods. The light was for anyone else out on the waves, to warn them of their presence, not for them. Its pale yellow glow was the only thing that stood out among the grey.

Until another yellow light came bobbing past in the other direction.

...

The fog was too thick for Remus to see anything beyond the lamp shining in the mist, but he felt the presence of another boat pass right by his own, so close they nearly bumped into each other. He felt the increased cold caused by the other boat's dementors … and he could hear a mad keening; a wailing and a sobbing and a desperate pleading to turn the boat around and go back to land.

The voice was in so much pain that Remus barely recognised it as human.

It seemed that another prisoner was being taken out to Azkaban that afternoon … though Remus was still none the wiser as to what was happening to him .

...

After what seemed like forever, lights from the shore began to break through the swirling fog … twinkling in the distance but growing larger every moment. And then the boat suddenly bumped against something, and - peering at it - Remus realised it was the wooden leg of a pier.

A large shape emerged from the greyness - and then Kingsley Shacklebolt was reaching down into the boat, helping Remus climb out.

Once Remus was standing safely on the pier, the boat began to sail away again. Remus watched it go - feeling more and more mystified with every passing second. Once it had vanished from sight, he turned to Kingsley. 'Kingsley? - What? What's happening?'

Now the boat with its dementors was sailing away, the fog was beginning to clear a little. The sky was still grey, it was a December's late afternoon after all. It was snowing, the thick flakes drifting down and landing in Remus' hair and on his thin robes - soaking him through … but the air became clearer and he felt warmer than he had in a month.

This was the furthest from a dementor he had been since first he had been taken to prison. He could see bright lights, and the green of the hedges, smothered in a covering of brilliant white snow, and Kingsley's red robe seemed to him like the brightest thing he had ever seen.

Colour … he had forgotten.

...

Kingsley clapped a hand on his shoulder, 'come on, Remus, let's get you to the Ministry.'

And though the confusion was not lifting - Remus could not help but notice that Kingsley was calling him by his first name again.

He felt Kingsley take firm hold of his arm, he raised his wand - and then the auror apparated his friend away.

Severus arrived back at Hogwarts, returning to his dungeon office without seeing or speaking to anyone. His rage was burning inside of him - ice cold. His hands trembled. Sirius Black was free. He had been pardoned - he would be free to go about his life as if none of this had ever happened.

And even worse - the wolf would be free too, they wouldn't even be chopping the beast's head off now ... And now that was taken from him, he realised just how much the thought of Lupin's execution had been sustaining him.

The pair of them would walk free. The two great lovers.

And Lily would still be dead. Severus had still lost her. And now he didn't even have the comfort of knowing that the two men he hated more than anything were paying for Severus' loss.

Pettigrew was the traitor. Worthless little Peter Pettigrew had sold out Lily - as if she was as worthless as he was. And then lied about it. To Severus' face … and Severus had believed him. He had spoken to the traitorous rat and walked away - lost his opportunity to truly avenge Lily, to take his wand and blast Pettigrew into smithereens; killing him as he had caused Lily to be killed.

Though that was not the real source of his anger.

Yes, he was pleased Lily's true murderer now faced justice. Yes, he was angry with Pettigrew for being the spy.

But he was even angrier with Black for not being the spy.

...

He had thought, as he had hunted them down, that he was keeping his mind clear. Oh he had never lied to himself about how much he hated them, never pretended that he wasn't delighting in their being wanted men … but he had believed that he was being clear sighted in the hunt itself. Following the evidence. And yet now it seemed he had been mistaken all along, and he was forced to admit that - rather than follow the clues - he had ignored them entirely. He had known he had never heard the merest whisper of Black being a Death Eater during his own time with the Dark Lord, and he had not stopped to ponder it. He had seen that Lupin did not bear the dark mark - and he had explained it away. They had claimed their innocence repeatedly, tried to tell their story - and he had refused to listen.

Because he had wanted them to be guilty.

And he hated them more now that they were innocent - were the same priggish guardians of righteousness that they had always purported themselves to be - than he had when he had believed them to be traitors and spies and murderers.

Oh how he had wanted that dratted man to be what Severus had always believed he was. How he wanted himself to be vindicated over the time Black had tried to kill him and no one had cared. How he wanted to prove that there could be no such thing as a tame werewolf. How he had enjoyed the thought of them suffering in Azkaban … How he had enjoyed being the one to inflict that suffering … How he had wanted them to remain there forever, their lives wasted and hollow and filled with torment. How he had wanted to beat them. Finally beat them - and have them know they were beaten.

But now they were free. Now, even the memory of the wolf pissing itself was meaningless.

They were free. To love - and live together - and move on from what had happened. While Severus never could. Because Lily would still be dead. She would always be dead. That they got each other - that they got to be together - after all they had done to him … and he was trapped here, working forever for Dumbledore - and Lily would always be dead. The unfairness of it all overwhelmed him.

...

He began to unpack his leather holdall, putting his things away back into the cupboard. His hands still trembled. His whole body quivered.

He took out the journal - and, not quite knowing why, leafed through it - looking at the memories of the boy he once was. He saw the photo he had taken from Sirius' home - him and Moony at Slughorn's party, their arms around each other … and he shook with his attempt to suppress his rage at the thought they would spend the rest of their lives with their arms around each other. While he … He turned a page, finding the photograph he had taken that first morning of third year - of the owl post … that was really of Lily. And the four of them, sitting in the corner.

He stared down at her lovely face - and then his eyes flicked to Black's own smugly handsome one. His hands shook so hard he almost dropped the journal. Right now he could truly not say whether he loved Lily or hated Black more.

The Ministry wizards walking through the atrium at the time all gasped in surprise, as a popping noise heralded the sudden arrival of Kingsley Shacklebolt, holding onto one damp, bedraggled looking werewolf, wearing handcuffs and prison robes.

Remus shifted uncomfortably under their stares, feeling very out of place among these smart, well heeled Ministry employees … He would have done, at the best of times, but now he felt like a great arrow was pointing at him with the words "convicted felon" written over the top.

Kingsley, however, ignored his colleagues' alarm and, keeping a tight grip on Remus' arm, steered him towards the elevators. 'This way.' The lift arrived and they stepped inside. Kingsley pressed the button for the Magical Law Enforcement level and they began to move.

...

The other people in the elevator shuffled away, clearing as large a space around the two men as they could manage. Remus wondered if they were keeping their distance because he was so clearly a prisoner, or because they knew he was a werewolf, or because - as grateful as he was for the shower Kingsley had arranged for him - it was now three days since he had last washed. He supposed it didn't matter. He had always been an outcast, a bit more shunning wasn't going to hurt him - he wouldn't let it … Especially as, as far as he knew, he was fated to die in two days time.

Maybe that was why they shrank from him - maybe the imminence of death clung to him like an aura.

...

The lift arrived - and Kingsley led him out and down the hallway. More heads turned to look at them as they passed, and Remus was aware of whisperings and murmurings going on from behind hands, mutterings in corners and some people even doubling back to take a second look. He got the distinct impression that something was very definitely going on - and that everyone knew more about it than he did.

They reached a door - the plaque read 'Bartemius Crouch: Head of Magical Law Enforcement.' Kingsley knocked, then went inside, taking Remus with him.

...

Barty Crouch was sitting behind his desk and - like Sirius had noted - Remus thought he looked much older and more broken than he had the last time they had seen each other, though he had no idea why that might be the case.

He was flanked by Dumbledore, to his right, who was smiling genially and looking like he was having a marvellous time, and Umbridge - to his left - whose toad-like face was sour and sullen.

'Thank you, Shacklebolt,' Crouch said, 'that will do.'

Kingsley nodded and left, closing the door behind him. Remus watched him go - and then turned back to her others, his brow furrowed in continuing confusion.

'Mr. Lupin, please take a seat.'

He sat down opposite Crouch, not any less confused.

...

'Hem hem,' Umbridge coughed - though her voice wavered a little. Her eyes were narrowed and frightened and she watched Remus very closely. 'I must register my objection,' she said. 'This hearing ought to be taking place in the courtroom, before the full wizengamot. The wolf should have been accompanied this whole time by a dementor. He is still a convicted criminal.'

'Oh, there's no need for all of that, Dolores,' Crouch waved a dismissive hand. 'This is just a formality. Dotting the Is and crossing the Ts.'

'Quite right,' Dumbledore was still smiling, his blue eyes were twinkling away. 'In fact, given the circumstances, I don't believe those shackles are necessary either.'

'Now you must not remove…' Umbridge began, her voice rising in panic.

But Dumbledore ignored her, raised his wand and said 'evanesco'. The cumbersome handcuffs vanished from around Remus' wrists - and he rubbed the place they had been, feeling suddenly very light and free. He had grown accustomed, this past month, to chains and bars and locked doors. To just be sitting here, not shackled, not locked in … it was like he was suddenly weightless; like all the things that had been holding him down had been removed and now he was just free floating. It actually made him feel suddenly vulnerable and exposed.

...

His mother had once told him how she had broken her arm as a little girl, and the muggle doctor had put a cast on it - a great, heavy plaster thing that she had lugged around for over a month while her bones healed. She hadn't been able to get it wet, it had stopped her from sleeping at night and her arm had itched so much she thought she might go crazy not being able to scratch it … And yet when the doctor cut it off, her now free arm had felt ludicrously fragile, her body felt unbalanced and she had been terrified of breaking it again - unable to believe it could withstand the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune without her cast to protect it.

Sitting in this office - unchained and with the door not locked, and no bars on the window - he finally understood what she had meant.

...

'Dumbledore … what's going on?' He asked.

As he spoke, Umbridge inhaled sharply. Her expression twisted in disgust - but her eyes remained frightened - and fixed on him. Her face was pale and he noticed she was trembling slightly … As if she truly seemed to believe that the only thing stopping him from jumping across the desk and ripping her limb from limb had been the handcuffs. And now they were gone - and the beast was free.

Dumbledore, on the other hand, looked as if he was having the time of his life. 'We are righting a very serious wrong, Remus. Now - if you will be so good as to answer Barty's questions.'

Remus nodded in surprise - and looked questioningly at Mr. Crouch, who cleared his throat and began proceedings. 'Yes well. You were - last month - convicted of being a Death Eater and a spy. At the time you plead not guilty … what say you now?'

Remus glanced towards Dumbledore, not understanding. But Dumbledore only gave him the merest half nod - as if telling him to get on with it.

'I still plead not guilty. I am not guilty. I was never a Death Eater - and I did not spy for Voldemort...'

Both Crouch and Umbridge winced as he said the name.

'... I worked for The Order of the Phoenix. I was Dumbledore's spy among the werewolves, but I was always loyal to him.'

'Quite so, quite so - and when was it that you first became aware there was a spy in The Order?'

...

He frowned and tried to remember. Those days had been so dark; trust had been so thin on the ground at the best of times … And he had been cut off from the others for months at a time, living rough with the wolfpacks. 'It was … several months before James and Lily died. Earlier in the year, I think. James and Lily had been targeted a couple of times … it seemed clear that Voldemort…'

Another wince.

'...was after them and that someone close to them was passing across details.'

'And who did you believe it was? The spy? At the time?'

'I…' he bit his lip and shook his head. 'I didn't know. When Dumbledore said it was someone close to James - I knew he was insinuating that it was one of us - one of the four of us. Three, I suppose - because James couldn't be the spy. But I … My friends mean a lot to me, Mr. Crouch. I never had any before Hogwarts, and I've been shunned my whole life because of what I am.'

'Quite right,' Umbridge squeaked.

Remus flushed, but ignored her - and worked to keep his voice even. 'Anyone who doesn't cast me out, when they find out about my condition … you can't understand how much that matters to me. When Dumbledore said one of us was the traitor … I couldn't bear to think of it being one of us. I refused to suspect any of my friends … I suppose I was being cowardly, but it hurt too much. I just hoped and prayed it would turn out to be someone else from within The Order - anyone outside of our little group. It didn't matter who - as long as I got to keep my three friends. James refused to suspect any of us either, and I gratefully followed his lead.'

'But Sirius Black suspected you.'

Remus bit his lip again. 'I know. He told me.'

'When?'

He flushed bright red, remembering the moment … when Sirius had murmured something about Remus being the spy between hot kisses and then had given up talking so they could kiss more passionately. '...Once we were on the run. Not long before we were arrested.' He kept his eyes on the floor, too embarrassed to look at any of them in case they could divine the truth of how it had really happened.

'But you never suspected him?'

'Never.'

'And you believed he was made secret keeper?'

'That's what I was told.'

'When did you find out about the switch?'

...

His head came back up - and he looked between Crouch and Dumbledore. 'You know about the switch?'

'It has been brought to our attention,' Dumbledore said, smiling with a wicked delight.

'I didn't know anything about it until the night James and Lily died. Then Sirius showed up at my door with Harry and told me what had happened. He had switched with Peter - Peter Pettigrew, that is, and Peter had betrayed us.'

'Why did you believe him?' Crouch asked.

'I- ' Remus opened his mouth and then closed it again. He didn't really have an answer for that.

...

'Hem hem,' Umbridge coughed again. 'It seems to me that … Mr. Lupin, here, does not have any good reason to believe Black's cock and bull story about switching secret keepers. That there is nothing he can say to clear Black's name.'

'Be that as it may, Dolores, but it would at least appear that Remus, here, was none the wiser as to what happened and is guilty of nothing more than running away with Black at his request,' Dumbledore said.

'Or because they were both spies who knew the jig was up.'

'Sirius Black has been cleared of all charges - that case is closed, Dolores.'

Remus stared around at them. 'He has…?' And for the first time he allowed a faint flicker of hope to start burning in his chest.

'Yes,' Dumbledore told him. 'It is now known to the wizengamot that the true spy was always Pettigrew, and that we convicted an innocent man. That wrong has been righted. We hope lessons will be learned - and our methods altered so no such wrong ever happens again.'

'However,' Crouch said, 'it is still of interest to us why you believed Black so readily - his tale was quite the fantastical one, and yet you bought it without question. How come?'

'Perhaps he always knew Pettigrew was the spy because they were in cahoots together,' Umbridge said, sniffing. Having let go of the possibility of reconvicting Sirius Black, she was desperately trying to find a reason to not let the werewolf go. She wanted that - that thing put down. Remus could see it on her face, her disgust for him - her almost naked longing to see him punished - simply for being what he was.

...

However, it seemed like her fellow council members were inclined to disagree with her. Perhaps the two of them - at least - really were serious about learning from their mistakes and doing things differently in future.

'Dolores, it's not that we don't appreciate your input, but you don't need to be here,' Crouch said to her.

'I'm staying.'

'Very well. Mr. Lupin, why did you believe Sirius Black was innocent on no more than his own say so?'

'I…' He thought about that night, of the frantic hammering at the door, and the wild look in Sirius' eyes and the pain that he had not been ready to feel. How he had tried to stop Sirius from talking, from telling him what he already knew was true but did not want to hear. He thought of Sirius' desperation and Harry's cut forehead and that sudden request to run away together which had loomed large between them and taken up all the space in the room.

'It just … it just never occurred to me not to believe him. He had Harry, and James was dead, and he was beside himself. He said he was running away and asked me to come with him and I ...I … well I love him, you see. I couldn't stand by and watch him vanish forever. He asked me to go with him … and I went.'

'Oh not more of this disgusting love story between a man and a beast .'

'Dolores.' There was no twinkle in Dumbledore's eye now - and his tone was dangerous. Dangerous enough to shut her up.

...

Crouch cleared his throat and sat up straighter. 'Remus Lupin, did you know - prior to the attack on the Potters - that Peter Pettigrew was the spy?'

'No - of course not. I would have told someone.'

'And is it your contention that you only fled the country because Sirius Black asked it of you?'

'Yes.'

...

'What about his kidnapping the Potter boy?' Umbridge shrieked. 'You cannot deny the wolf is guilty of kidnap! It belongs in jail.'

'Sirius Black is the legal guardian of Harry Potter. He had a right to remove him from his home - and a right to take him out of the country,' Dumbledore said. His voice was calm - but there was still that dangerous tone. 'As long as Remus Lupin had Black's permission to care for the child or take him where he chose, then Remus was not acting unlawfully.'

Umbridge seethed and quivered, but said no more. Instead she settled for shooting furious, terrified, hate filled glances at Remus. She had failed, the wolf was going to walk free - and it seemed like she hated him even more than ever for it.

'Then it seems there is no case to answer to,' Crouch said. 'Remus Lupin, you are hereby pardoned of all crimes of which you have been convicted. You are free to go.'

...

Remus just sat there, frozen in shock - feeling it crash over him like a wave, drenching him in disbelieving surprise. 'I -I'm free? That's it? I can go? You believe I'm not guilty?'

'Guilty of nothing more than acting rashly, as young men in love are wont to do,' Dumbledore was smiling again. 'Believe me, when I tell you, other men have committed far greater acts of stupidity than you, when it comes to matters of the heart. If we locked them all in Azkaban … well, there would be no young men left in all the land.'

'I can really go?'

'You can really go - Kingsley?' The door opened and Kingsley came back inside. 'Why don't you escort Mr. Lupin out of the Ministry?' Dumbledore said. 'I should imagine after all he has suffered - regrettably at our hands - he has no wish to be here any longer than is necessary. He has the whole of the rest of his life to be getting on with - places to go, and old friends to reunite with.'