17 May 1973
Dora was eating breakfast in the Great Hall with her Hufflepuff classmates when an owl dropped by with a letter for her. She recognized the script immediately: it was Dumbledore's handwriting. Excitedly, she opened the note to find a short message:
Dear Miss Black,
Per your recent conversation with a mutual friend, I invite you to discuss the matter further with me this evening at 8 o'clock in my office.
Yours,
Albus Dumbledore
P.S. I enjoy Cockroach Clusters.
Dora whooped in joy upon seeing the note; her attempt at retrieving the truth from Professor Slughorn on his conversation with then-Tom Riddle had been successful. Weeks earlier, she had concocted her plan:
It was the day Dora was set to leave Grimmauld Place, now that it was the end of the Easter holidays. It was the morning after Narcissa's Hen Night. As she was gathering her things, a thought returned to her mind.
"Kreacher!" she called. The Black house elf popped into Dora's sight.
"Miss Dora calls for Kreacher?"
"Kreacher, do you know how to brew the special Veritaserum that was used last night?" Dora eagerly asked.
"No, Miss Dora, Kreacher must never brew," Kreacher croaked. Dora's face fell.
"Kreacher, is there a way you can get the potion to me, even if you can't brew it yourself?"
"Kreacher follows orders, Miss." Dora braced herself, knowing what she had to do.
"Kreacher, I order you to bring me a vial of the Veritaserum that was used last night at Narcissa's Hen Night. You are not to tell anyone else about this request. You must send the vial by owl when I have returned to Hogwarts. Is this clear?"
"Kreacher will do as Miss Dora orders."
Three days later, a Black family owl arrived with a vial of their unique Veritaserum. Dora had been so pleased with Kreacher's work that she planned on giving him a photo of herself and Regulus in return to keep in his cupboard, once the summer holidays arrived.
Dora had been putting her Auror skills to good use, finding that Slughorn preferred fine mead and crystallized pineapple candies. She also took a portion of the Black family Veritaserum to determine its makeup; it was Veritaserum laced with a modified Strengthening Solution and a modified Wit-Sharpening Potion. Together, the potent family brew created a strong, energizing solution that forced the truth out of others. Genius, yes; virtuous, certainly not, Dora decided. From the ingredients within the family Veritaserum, Dora was able to brew an antidote. Now, she merely had to set her plan in place.
The previous potions class, Dora had asked Slughorn if she could drop by his office that Friday evening, as she had a gift to thank him for his generosity in House points, particularly as the school year was wrapping up. Slughorn had been pleased at the praise, and thus welcomed the young Hufflepuff to stop by.
That Friday evening, Dora presented herself to Slughorn with two boxes of crystallized pineapple candies, one now imbued with the Black family Veritaserum, and the other, as a prop. She suspected that Slughorn would know the affected candies held Veritaserum, so she charmed the candies with a Notice-Me-Not Charm and a modified Repelling Charm, so that it would be more difficult for him to notice what she had done. Dora was rather pleased at her handiwork, having tested it on her unsuspecting Hufflepuff dormmates. Finally, she held a sizable bottle of mead in her enchanted pocket, alongside a smaller bottle of Firewhisky holding the antidote to the Veritaserum. Altogether, they would work to release the memory from Slughorn.
She knocked on the Potion Master's office door, and a bright "Come in!" greeted her. Dora entered the office holding the candy in one hand and mead in the other.
"I heard you like crystallized pineapple candy, sir," Dora began. "Mead as well," she smiled broadly. "I had my father send this to me just for you, Professor." Slughorn looked at the gifts, beaming, and began to pour himself mead before helping himself to a candy. Dora held her breath as his expression changed ever-so-slightly and returned to its happy countenance. The charms were working!
"Your father is Alphard Black, no?" Slughorn asked. "I had the pleasure of teaching him when he was just a boy here."
"He speaks very highly of you, Professor," Dora lied. "But enough about my father! My grandfather is really most interesting," Dora continued. "Newt Scamander, of course."
"Did you ever get a chance to meet my grandfather, Professor?"
"I taught him," Professor Slughorn gushed. "He was beginning his O.W.L.s at the time I began and was very nearly expelled that year! Professor Dumbledore worked very hard to overturn that decision, and your grandfather was able to finish his studies." Slughorn popped another candy in his mouth.
"Wow," Dora emphasized, taking the opportunity. "Quite the tale, then! What was the most exciting incident that happened in yours years of teaching, sir?"
"The monster that killed Myrtle Warren," Slughorn replied promptly, covering his mouth in embarrassment. "This mead must be quite strong, Miss Black!"
"I asked for only the very best for my favorite Professor," Dora said proudly. Take the bait, take the bait, take it!
"How thoughtful of you, Miss Black," Slughorn grinned, popping yet another candy into his mouth.
"Do you know who allowed the monster that killed Myrtle, sir?" Dora pried.
"Hagrid," Slughorn replied promptly. "But no one suspected him."
"Why's that?" Dora asked. "Was there someone more likely?"
"Yes," Slughorn replied, alarm now in his eyes. Dora could see the magic working before her eyes; he would recognize the Veritaserum and simultaneously be distracted from its power. When I get back to my time, Dora thought, I'm bragging about this to Moody. This Veritaserum might be the cleverest potion I've ever bothered with!
"Who was it that you think was more likely?" Dora ventured.
"Tom Riddle," Slughorn said, clapping his mouth over his hand. "Miss Black, what is the meaning of this questioning!" He said angrily.
"Simply curious, Professor," she smiled innocently. "Why do you think Riddle did it?" Slughorn had decided to leave the mead and instead focus on the candies; if only he knew the mead had been merely a prop in Dora's charade. Maybe I should've been in Slytherin, she thought, a shudder going down her spine.
"He was a peculiar boy," Slughorn said, popping another candy in his mouth. "Very peculiar indeed. He, unfortunately, turned out to be quite the Dark wizard. He's now known as You-Know-Who, or the Dark Lord."
"Good Godric," Dora feigned surprise. "Why is it that he was so peculiar as a boy?"
"He asked too many questions," Slughorn divulged. "Of a most eccentric nature." Not unlike you, my dear Miss Black! Dora was able to see the magic continue to work; the Veritaserum was working splendidly and the effects of the charms rendered Slughorn more candid than ever.
"What kind of questions did he ask you, Professor?" Dora's heart was hammering, awaiting the response.
"He asked about rare bits of magic," Slughorn replied, popping yet another candy in his mouth. I hope there's enough for the whole conversation, Dora thought.
"What rare bits of magic?" Dora asked. "I do love learning," she added, with a wide smile.
"He asked about something called a Horcrux," Slughorn divulged, now blissfully unaware of his truth-telling. "I do not wish to speak of this, however," he said sternly. He ate one more candy; only one remained.
"Do you think you could show me what you spoke with him about, sir?" Dora asked.
"Why do you want such a thing?" Slughorn exclaimed. "It's terrible that you've mentioned the object!"
"Well, sir," Dora began. "My family has connections to the Dark Lord, and I've reason to believe that this information is crucial for me, and for my family."
"Why would you need this information?" Slughorn's eyes narrowed. "For yourself or your family?" The last crystallized pineapple candy disappeared.
"Allow me to show you, Professor," Dora said. She hoped she wouldn't have to do it, but she needed that memory more than anything else. She merely hoped it wouldn't kill her in the process, if it broke the Unbreakable Vow.
In the next few minutes, Dora began morphing. She morphed her hair, eyes, nose, and ears. She morphed her body. She morphed her nose into various animals' as Slughorn's jaw dropped. Finally feeling faint from all the morphing that she hadn't practiced in so long, she returned to her "default" of Pandora Black. She felt instantly euphoric; even if she couldn't tell others she was from the future, she could show them who she really was!
"You-you're a Metamorphmagus?" Slughorn asked, thunderstruck.
"I am, sir," Dora replied. "It's a tightly held secret between my late mother and my father only. When my parents learned I was a Metamorphmagus, I had to go into hiding, as my father feared that I would be found out and recruited for the wrong causes."
"I have accidentally morphed in front of my father's relatives and blamed it upon accidental magic," Dora continued. "It will become harder as I grow older, as accidental magic is rarer for older students. You see my predicament?"
"Yes, yes, quite the predicament," Slughorn muttered. "How does this Horcrux business affect you?"
"I have reason to believe that the Dark Lord is pursuing this magic," Dora said flatly. "My father will stop at nothing to keep me safe and alive, and we need your help, sir. I've already lost my mother, and I don't wish to lose everyone I love." Dora willed tears to spring to her eyes, simply by recalling her life in her original timeline: carefree, happy, loved.
"Please, sir," Dora begged, tears in her eyes. "Please help me save the ones I love." Luckily, all of this was true, even if the details were fuzzy, Dora pondered. "I beg you," Dora added, for effect.
Slughorn looked at Dora with sad, conflicted eyes. He sighed heavily, and replied, "Very well, Miss Black, but might I ask a favor of you?"
"Anything, sir," she responded brightly.
"Might I take some of your hair? Metamorphmagi hair is quite valuable in potion-making," Slughorn inquired.
"If you keep my identity a secret, sir, I'll be happy to provide some of my hair every year," Dora promised. Not exactly a hard request, if she were honest with herself. Defeating Voldemort versus having Slughorn profit off her hair? Easy choice, she decided.
"Allow me to get a few vials, Miss Black," Slughorn mumbled. He lumbered to a cupboard and retrieved two sizable vials. In a swift motion, he brought his wand to his temple and produced a silvery strand – the memory! – and placed it in the first vial. He then handed Dora a set of shears. Dora grew her hair out longer and made it white so that it would be unrecognizable to others; she took a fistful of the hair and placed it in the vial, and morphed it back to its original black color and past-the-shoulder length.
"Thank you, Professor," Dora said. "You have no idea how much this means to me."
"Thank you, Miss Black, for sharing your secret with me," Slughorn said solemnly. "I hope you keep mine a secret as well."
"Of course, sir," Dora replied. "I actually purchased two boxes of the candy; might I offer you the other one?"
"My dear girl, so generous!" Slughorn beamed.
"My father also sent me this Firewhisky," Dora added. "He thought you might like it. Can you try it now so I can tell him?"
Slughorn looked giddy at the proffered bottle and quickly drank it with a satisfied smile. To test her work, Dora asked one more question she knew he would lie about.
"Professor Slughorn, I have one more question, if you don't mind?" Dora asked tentatively.
"Go ahead, m'girl," Slughorn said cheerily, popping another candy into his mouth.
"Is there a werewolf at this school?" Dora asked innocently.
"Absolutely not, Miss Black! Why in Salazar's name would you ask such a thing?" Slughorn looked horrified.
"I simply heard a rumor," Dora smiled. "Must not be true, then." All the professors knew Remus was a werewolf, Dora thought. Otherwise, he would be failing his classes from missing so many of them. Slughorn could lie again, and she had the memory.
….
It was almost eight o'clock and time for Dora to meet with the Headmaster. She ran to the gargoyle statue and nearly shouted the password to it; she was ecstatic they were one step closer to defeating Voldemort.
"Miss Tonks, very good to see you," Dumbledore greeted. Tonks beamed at the greeting. Ever since she'd demanded Dumbledore to use her true given name, she had one place she could feel like herself.
"Would you like to see the memory you procured from Horace?" Dumbledore offered. "Quite illuminating, if I do say so myself."
"Not at all," Tonks replied. "I trust you, and I just want to get the work done."
"Hard work is another true sign of a Hufflepuff," Dumbledore noted, and Tonks beamed at him.
"So, what do we know?" Tonks asked.
"Voldemort plans on making, or has made, six of them," the Headmaster replied. "I suspect that he counts himself as one, making it a total of seven pieces of his soul."
"What – in – Merlin's – saggy - bollocks," Tonks stammered. "Excuse my language," she added hastily, looking at the reproving glares from several portraits. Dumbledore cast curtains on them, much to the portraits' dismay.
"Alright, so we know the diary is one of them, and where it currently is," Tonks said. "Any ideas about the others?"
"Since we last spoke, I have been wondering this myself," Dumbledore explained. "I've been traveling to meet with those who knew Tom Riddle as a boy and young man, to try to understand how he operates."
"Did you learn anything promising?" Tonks asked.
"I believe so," Dumbledore replied, his blue eyes twinkling at her. "I have reason to believe that the items will be important, and not everyday objects. When Riddle was a boy, he had a habit of collecting baubles won from others. As an adult, I'm confident he has set loftier goals of what he finds collectible."
"One of those items, I believe, is related to your House," Dumbledore said.
"Hufflepuff or Black?" Tonks clarified.
"Quite possibly both," Dumbledore admitted. "For now, I believe Hufflepuff may be more likely."
"Why not his own House? Wasn't he a Slytherin?"
"I have reason to believe that he may have wanted something from his own House – he was a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin, if you can believe it—"
"—No. Way," Tonks interrupted. "D'you think Slytherin left something in the Chamber of Secrets? Other than a bloodthirsty basilisk, that is," she added.
"Perhaps. It would be unwise to make a Horcrux out of a living being, as their natures are more difficult to control. It is quite possible he stored a Horcrux in the Chamber, but given the account you told me of the Boy-Who-Lived and his encounter with the basilisk in the Chamber, I do not believe that will be the Horcrux's hiding place."
Dumbledore continued, "I would not be surprised if he did leave something of such value in this castle, as Hogwarts was his first true home."
"It was?" Tonks asked, dumbfounded.
"Tom Riddle was an orphan," Dumbledore said heavily. "His mother was Merope Gaunt, one of the last living descendants of Slytherin. It appears that Miss Gaunt had a child with a local Muggle man, and that child bore the father's name, Tom Riddle."
"Tom Marvolo Riddle," Tonks supplied. "That's what Ha-The-Boy-Who-Lived told us."
"Quite correct, Tonks," Dumbledore smiled. "Marvolo Gaunt was Riddle's grandfather. He had a son in addition to his daughter, Merope. His son is Morfin Gaunt."
"Is? Is Morfin still alive?" Tonks asked.
"Yes," Dumbledore said gravely. "I believe we will need his help to uncover the truth."
"How do we get to him? Where is he?"
"Azkaban, for killing the Riddle family." Tonks paled at Dumbledore's admission.
"He killed Voldemort's family? Why?"
"I'm not certain," Dumbledore admitted. "He is known for having extreme anti-Muggle sentiments, though why he chose the Riddle family may have been due to their rejection of his sister, the abandonment of his nephew, or simply for being in the wrong place at the right time. It will take time to uncover the truth."
"How can I help?" Tonks asked. "Anything I can do?"
"Perhaps," Dumbledore said, as Tonks sat up in her seat. "Tonks, do you know how to cast and control Fiendfyre?"
"Cast, yes, control, no," Tonks quickly replied. "Why?"
"In lieu of a basilisk fang, Fiendfyre is the likeliest solution to destroying a Horcrux. I would like you to become proficient in casting and controlling it."
"I'll do my best, sir," Tonks promised. "Any place you know of where I can practice?"
"I shall provide a safe location as soon as I'm able, Tonks," Dumbledore replied. "Until then, I can assure you that the memory you procured from Horace has been most helpful."
"I had a quite a bit of fun doing it," Tonks said. "Felt like my old life, with the research, preparation, and investigation. If you ever have a task like that, please do let me know."
"I certainly shall, Tonks," Dumbledore said. "It is now nearing curfew, however, and you'll need to go back to the Hufflepuff common room. Off to bed, now!"
"Of course, professor," Tonks said. "I'll keep an eye out for your owl!"
….
3 June 1973
It was nearly the end of the term, and Dora was practice dueling with Moody for the penultimate time before classes ended. Moody had taken to making Dora morph while also dueling, to test her skills in both. It was exhausting work, but enthralling all the same.
"Rictumsempra!" Dora shouted at Moody, attempting to knock him back. She changed her hair color from black to turquoise, and grew a few inches taller. "Confringo!" Moody retaliated by attempting to destroy fake barriers he'd set up between the two of them; she shrunk size and shortened her hair to a grey pixie, attempting to alarm him into thinking she was a frail old witch.
"Stupefy!" Dora cast at Moody; he flinched slightly at her appearance before he repelled the spell by casting "Impedimenta!" Dora rebounded with "Petrificus totalus!", now appearing as a younger girl still,and Moody attempted to disarm her with "Expelliarmus!"
Finally, Dora was able to jinx Moody with "Titillando!", after she successfully morphed into his very own appearance, causing him to double over in laughter from both her morphing and the jinx. Triumphant, Dora cast "Finite incantatem!" and the round of dueling was over.
"If you weren't bound by another timeline, you'd have made a damn good Auror," Moody grumbled, as Dora helped him to his feet. Dora grinned widely at Moody.
"I was taught by the best," she smiled at him. "I hope I haven't completely destroyed my original timeline because I'd really like to go back to being an Auror."
Moody sat silently for a moment. "I'll see what we can arrange with Dumbledore for the summer," he finally said. "We can't make you an Auror, but we can have you help with the Order, if we're careful about it."
"YES, PLEASE!" Dora shouted. "If I have to spend all summer at Grimmauld Place, I'll go mad." Moody half-grimaced at Dora, but by now Dora knew it was his attempt at a smile, and it pleased her greatly to see the gesture.
"D'you think we could see Dumbledore now, please?" Dora suggested. "I've an idea for the summer."
"Send the Patronus, why don't you? You do know how it works?" Moody demanded.
"Expecto patronum!" Dora cast, and the wolf emerged from the tip of her wand. She gave its message to Dumbledore and asked to meet with him and Moody. Moments later, a phoenix Patronus appeared to confirm the meeting, so Dora and Moody made their way out of the Room of Requirement to meet at Dumbledore's office.
They emerged from the Room of Requirement to find four young Gryffindors waiting for them.
"Lessons over?" Remus asked, a hopeful look in his eyes. He glanced at Moody and backed away due to the man's strange appearance.
"Not yet," Dora replied. "I've got a meeting with the Headmaster first," she smiled at them.
"C'mon, Dora, more lessons?" Sirius whined. Moody rolled his eyes at the pouting.
"Not a lesson," Dora insisted. "A meeting. I'll talk to you boys later, okay?"
"Mister, ermm," Remus began, "sir?" He was hesitant, but turned towards Moody.
"Moody, Alastor Moody," Moody replied gruffly. "What do you need, boy?"
"Are you an Auror, sir?" Remus asked. Moody grunted and nodded in the affirmative.
"Are you really?" James asked in awe.
"Wow," Peter breathed. "A real Auror."
"A real Auror who has a meeting with the Headmaster," Moody grumbled. "Miss Black and I will be on our way now."
"That's so cool," Sirius admired. "I wish we could get personal dueling lessons from an Auror!"
"Have a more complicated life, then," Dora countered. "No more questions, remember? I'll happily hex you all again." The boys backed away, and Dora and Moody made their way towards the Headmaster's office.
"Those your friends?" Moody grumbled.
"Yeah," Dora replied. "Sirius is my cousin, but the rest are just friends."
"You know about the Lupin boy?" Moody asked.
"About his…condition, you mean?" Dora clarified. Moody grunted.
"I do," Dora said. "I knew him from before too. I dunno if his friends know yet; eventually I know they do, but I can't remember when they learned it."
"I worked on his case in '65," Moody admitted. "Parents almost lost him."
"That's terrible," Dora lamented. "I know he had a lonely childhood. I'm trying to make up for it a little now and maybe prevent it becoming worse."
"All you can do," Moody grumbled. They had now arrived at the Headmaster's office, ready to plan a summer for Dora that involved less time at Grimmauld Place.
Gryffindor Boys Interlude
"James, do you have the Cloak?" Sirius whispered, as Moody and Dora made their way down the steps of the seventh floor.
James grinned and pulled it out of his rucksack. "Wanna follow them?" he asked the other boys.
"C'mon, and stay quiet!" Sirius beckoned to Peter and Remus. The four of them just barely fit under the Cloak; one more year and they'd have to wander around as a trio.
"Remus, did you cast the charm?" whispered James.
"Bollocks, I'll do it now," Remus muttered. He cast a silencing charm on the four boys as they followed the mysterious Auror, Moody, and Dora.
"Those your friends?" they heard Moody grumble.
"Yeah," Dora replied flatly. "Sirius is my cousin, but the rest are just friends."
"You know about the Lupin boy?" Moody asked. Peter, Sirius, and James all looked at Remus, who had paled under the Cloak.
"About his…condition, you mean?" Dora asked slowly. Moody grunted. Remus panicked; how did they both know? How had Moody learned of it? Why were they talking about it in the open?
"I do," Dora said. "I knew him from before too. I dunno if his friends know yet; eventually I know they do, but I can't remember when they learned it." Sirius, James, and Peter were looking agape at Remus, all perplexed.
"I worked on his case in '65," Moody admitted. "Parents almost lost him." The looks were getting wilder from the three other Gryffindor boys. "You almost died?" Sirius whispered, as Remus tried not to rush in fear and anger towards the Auror and Dora for exposing his secret.
"That's terrible," Dora commented. "I know he had a lonely childhood. I'm trying to make up for it a little now and maybe prevent it becoming worse." "Worse?" James mouthed. "What's going on?" Peter mumbled. "Remus?" Sirius asked. The boys saw Dora and Moody ascend up the steps behind the gargoyle, as Remus ran out from under the Cloak to go elsewhere and hide. What had they done? His deepest secret, now in the open?
Remus ran, as fast as his legs could take him, out Hogwarts' front doors and into the Forbidden Forest. He didn't care what was within; he needed to get away.
"REMUS!" shouted Sirius. "REMUS, WHERE ARE YOU?"
"REEEEMUSSSS!" bellowed James. Peter followed the other two boys and ran out the front door of the school, where they'd last seen Remus go.
"There! He's there! Going to the Forbidden Forest!" Peter yelled.
"Follow him!" ordered Sirius. The three boys went running down the lawn towards the Forest, anxious to find their friend.
"REMUS! WE KNOW YOU'RE HERE!" Sirius roared.
"WE WANT TO TALK TO YOU, REMUS!" James hollered. "WHERE ARE YOU?"
Remus heard the frantic shouts of his friends. He was crouching at the base of a large tree, trying to hide himself in the shadows. A flurry of movement caught his eye: centaurs.
A regal-looking centaur approached Remus. "What brings a creature like you to our territory?" the centaur asked in a gravelly voice.
"I'm running away," Remus said, fighting back tears. "They hate me. I'm a monster."
"A monster?" The centaur furrowed his brow. "You are the one that howls in the Shack?"
"Yes," Remus said miserably. "I hate my life."
"Creature you are, monster you are not," said the centaur, calmly. "You should not be here," the centaur admonished the young werewolf. "You belong in the castle."
"I can't go back and I don't know where else to go," Remus pleaded. "My friends will know what I am and they will hate me. I'll have to leave school."
"Perhaps," the centaur said, airily. "The moon can be fickle, no?"
Remus was frustrated with the centaur; evidently he couldn't stay in their territory. Weren't there werewolves in the Forest? Maybe they'd accept him and let him live the rest of his miserable life with them.
"I'll go, then," Remus said dejectedly. He stood up shakily and began to run again, now finding himself lost in the Forest. He was now frightened, having lost his tracks. He turned to his lupine senses, leaning on them to find his way out. Remus breathed deeply and attempted to find his scent. Slowly, he retraced his steps, careful to hide behind shadows of trees to avoid another encounter with the centaurs.
"Remus," a voice said. It was faint, but Remus could identify it as Peter's. Dread filled every step as he grew closer to the source of the voices; his friends had not made it very far into the Forbidden Forest.
"Remus!" a voice shouted; this one was louder, it was James'.
"We should get someone to help us, he might get killed in here!" Sirius' voice was now clear enough that Remus felt comfortable finding them.
"Hi," Remus said from behind the trio of Gryffindors.
"Good Godric, Remus, you scared the shit out of us!" James shouted.
"What in Merlin's saggy bollocks did you think you were doing?" Sirius roared.
"Why did you come here?" Peter chimed in. "It's the Forbidden Forest! There could be werewolves!"
Remus hung his head. Peter had said it. Werewolves. They were going to hate him.
"What the bloody hell happened back there?" James demanded.
"What happened to you in '65? Did you really almost die?" Sirius asked, his expression softening slightly.
"What did Dora mean when she said you were lonely?" James interjected, his expression relaxing as well.
"You have…a….condition?" Peter ventured. "Remus? Is that why you're at the Hospital Wing so often?"
"You're all going to hate me," Remus said, bitterly. "I won't be able to stay at school anymore."
"Why not, mate?" James asked. "Are you ill?"
"I couldn't hate you," Sirius added. "You're one of my best friends."
"Neither could I," James agreed.
"Nor me," Peter followed.
"What is it? Are you sick with something?" Sirius asked, a look of pity in his eyes. Remus hated the pity.
"I am sick with – something," Remus began. "It's really bad."
"Are you dying?" Sirius asked. "Please don't be dying."
"Mate, please don't die on us," James begged. "I could ask my parents if we could get a Healer from St. Mungo's for you here!"
"It's not like that," Remus sighed. He was weighing his options; either he could make up a disease, which wouldn't be convincing, considering he spent monthly trips in the Hospital Wing, or he could tell them the truth. Dora had been understanding, maybe his best mates would be too? If not, he might still have Dora. She wasn't repulsed by him, for now.
"Mate?" Sirius prodded. "What's wrong?"
"I-I'm," Remus stuttered. "I'm a werewolf." Remus hung his head and sank into the ground.
"You are?!" Sirius asked incredulously.
"Are you sure?" James asked. Remus let out a choked laugh.
"Of course I'm sure," Remus sighed. "Years of monthly transformations definitely made me sure."
"Y-Years?" Peter squeaked.
"I was bitten when I was four," Remus said, ashamed. "I should've died. I'd be better off dead."
"Don't say that," Sirius said sternly. "Don't you ever say that."
Remus looked up at Sirius, unsure of how to respond to the other boy's temperament.
"You are much better alive, Remus," James said. "Werewolf or not. Right?" James looked at Sirius and Peter.
"Better a live werewolf than dead anything," Sirius agreed.
"Y-Yeah," Peter agreed.
"I'm scaring Peter," Remus said flatly. "I know that look."
"It's probably 'cause it's a big announcement, right Pete?" Sirius glanced at the smallest Marauder. "But that doesn't mean we like Remus any less." Sirius made the declaration firmly.
"Right, Remus is still ol' Remus, just a little furry sometimes," James joked.
"Yeah!" Sirius whooped. "Remus just has a furry little problem!" James and Sirius burst out laughing and even Peter chuckled softly.
"Are you really a werewolf, Remus?" Peter asked softly. "You're not taking the mickey out of us?"
"No, Pete," Remus said solemnly. "I've been a werewolf since I was four. It's why I'm in the Hospital Wing every month."
"Is that where you transform?" James asked. "I never heard howling there."
"Good Godric, no," Remus asserted. "I could never transform there. I'm there after the full moon because of my injuries."
"Injuries?" Sirius eyed Remus suspiciously. "Do you go here? In the Forest?"
"Let me explain," Remus said, exasperated. "You know that big tree, the Whomping Willow?" The other boys nodded. "There's a passageway under the tree that leads to a house on the edge of Hogsmeade. That's where I go to transform. It's under a lot of enchantments and charms so no one goes in there."
"Isn't that the haunted place? The Shrieking Shack?" Sirius asked, wide-eyed.
"The very one," Remus replied. "All the sounds are my own."
"Is it really dangerous in there? Is that why you get injuries?" James asked.
"No," Remus said. "I only get injuries because I hurt myself." The other boys looked agape at Remus. "Werewolves aren't supposed to be alone. They're supposed to be part of a pack or be hunting. I can't hunt here, it's too dangerous. I could never, ever bite anyone. I wanted to go to school. I didn't want to be with werewolves. I hurt myself instead." Remus looked away, blinking back tears. His friends were handling the situation relatively well; it was still uncertain if they'd out him to the student population and force him back home.
"What if you had a pack? You wouldn't hurt yourself?" Sirius asked, a gleam in his eyes.
"I dunno," Remus replied. "Never had a pack before. I don't know if it would work. It just can't be humans. Never, ever, ever humans," Remus emphasized. All the boys looked at him, dumbfounded.
"I should get back to the castle to pack my things," Remus stated.
"Where are you going?" James asked.
"I can't stay here, can I?" Remus asked pitifully. "You lot know what I am. You're going to tell everyone and no one wants their kid to go to school with a werewolf."
"We wouldn't do that," Sirius said gravely. "If keeping this secret means you stay here and be our best mate, then we keep a secret, yeah?" Sirius looked at James and Peter, both nodding in agreement.
"This can't be a prank," Remus said strictly. "You have to keep this a secret."
"Unbreakable Vow secret?" James offered. "I'll do it. I'll take the Vow."
"Me too," Sirius agreed. "Pete?"
"If-If that's what Remus wants," Pete offered.
"I can't ask you to do that," Remus decided. "It's too much. If you make a mistake, I don't want any of you dying over this."
"The Vow doesn't just let people die, does it?" James asked.
"I dunno how it works," Remus said. "Dora made the same offer when she told me she knew."
"Dora figured it out?" Sirius asked. "You didn't tell her?"
"She figured it out on her own and asked me about it," Remus admitted. "I didn't say a word to her. She's brilliant, she is."
"Pandora hasn't said anything like that to us!" James exclaimed. "If she can keep the secret, so can we!"
"Alright," Remus agreed. "You really, really can't tell anyone or I'll have to leave school. You're all sure you're okay with this? Me?"
"Don't the Muggles say that man's best friend is a dog?" Sirius beamed. "I guess ours is a little wolf!" Sirius, James, and Peter roared into laughter. Remus felt lighter than he had in years, thankful that his best mates finally knew, and didn't like him any less because of it.
Back to Tonks:
"Miss Black!" Dumbledore greeted. "How wonderful to see you and Alastor."
"Professor," Dora began. "I was asking Moody if there's anything I could do over the summer to help the Order. I know you asked me to practice controlling Fiendfyre. Any ideas for me to be able to do both?" Dora was hungry for the opportunity to fight against Death Eaters and rid the world of Voldemort bits, no matter how much it took out of her.
"Black's a hell of a dueler," Moody praised. "We could use her on our side."
"Miss Black, did you intend on visiting your grandparents this summer holiday?" Dumbledore asked.
"I was hoping to visit them just after my cousin Narcissa's wedding," Dora replied. "She's to be married just after term ends, on the eighth of July."
"Ah yes, Narcissa is to wed Lucius, is she not?" Dumbledore pondered aloud. "Allow me to correspond with your father, Alphard, and your grandfather, Newt. I believe I can find a solution that will work for all of us."
"Thank you, Headmaster," Dora smiled. "Anytime I can spend outside Grimmauld Place will be far better for me."
"Very well, then, Miss Black. I shall arrange what I can for you," Dumbledore concluded.