Sunday 31 October, 1993:
It was the first Hogsmeade trip of the new school year, but the morning of Halloween found Lena in the Forbidden Forest rather than on her way to the Wizarding village.
Once again, she was sitting in the small clearing, watching the Thestrals. It was a spot she had frequented over the past month, finding a strange comfort in the company of the skeletal winged horses. In fact, they were the only company she sought now.
Well, she didn't mind spending time with Harry so much. She knew it was fucked up, but the fact that he was a Horcrux made her feel more comfortable with him than she did with anyone else now. The shadow of death had been cast upon him too, although not as darkly as it hung over Lena. Not that Harry knew any of that. Dumbledore had been very clear about that when they'd discussed the topic at the end of the previous year. It was a difficult situation, but Lena found herself agreeing with Dumbledore: Harry wasn't ready to bear that burden, not yet.
But other than a few conversations with Harry, and her lessons with Dumbledore, Lena's interactions with others had become extremely limited. Yes, she still answered questions in class, and she had Prefect meetings every Wednesday evening. But now she completely avoided the four First Year girls, and she'd stopped helping Gemma Farley with her homework. And Maggie and Rolf...
That was over. She and Maggie had not exchanged a single word since their argument. Lena was no longer even staying in their dormitory. There was one spare girl's dorm in the Slytherin Dungeon, and Lena had moved all her stuff into it. She knew her housemates were dying to know what had happened between her and Maggie, but they hadn't dared ask. Lena was no longer the helpful classmate, the one they turned to for direction. Once again, she was the girl with the reputation, and to be left well alone.
The one person who knew – or at least, thought he knew – the reason behind the breakup of her and Maggie's friendship was Rolf, as Maggie had evidently told him not long after the argument. So naturally, Rolf had confronted Lena over it. And doing her best to push him away as well, Lena had been as nasty as she possibly could. So that friendship was over too.
A small noise to Lena's left drew her attention. It was Mortimer, returning from his explorations in the Forest. Lena held out her hand, and the bowtruckle climbed on. She placed him on her lap and looked down at him. But he didn't meet her gaze. He hadn't abandoned her after her fights with Maggie and Rolf, but nor did he hide how unhappy he was about it.
Lena sighed, resting her head against the tree trunk she was sitting in front of. Everything sucked.
She couldn't even go to Hogsmeade today to visit Tomes and Scrolls to check out their new releases, because that would mean having to pass the Dementors. And being in close proximity to Dementors meant the Orb's magic would try to make its presence known again. And that meant the poison would spread even further throughout her body. And that meant having to finish writing her will, which she'd been putting off.
'You wouldn't have that problem,' the snide internal voice reminded her, 'if you could do a Patronus.'
The thought was enough to once again make Lena mad at herself. Not just because of her inability to perform the charm, but because of how she'd spoken to Lupin. From everything she'd seen of him during the first month of classes, Lena had come to the conclusion she quite liked him. Not just because he was by far the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher Hogwarts had had during her time there, but because he seemed like a genuinely decent and intelligent person. The fact that he was also a werewolf was kind of intriguing too – intriguing not because he was a werewolf, but because he was a werewolf who hadn't rejected Wizarding society, as most of them did. And Lena would have very much liked to get to know him better. Alas, she had massively screwed up that opportunity.
"Oi, yer not s'posed ter be in 'ere!"
Lena turned her head right so fast that her neck made a crack. Rubbing it, she looked up and saw Hagrid standing a few metres away from her, staring at her with his dark eyes.
Professor Hagrid, now. That still took some getting used to.
Startled, Mortimer jumped off her lap and hid behind the tree, before Hagrid could notice him too.
"I know," replied Lena mildly. "You can give me a detention, if you like."
Hagrid's bushy eyebrows flew up in surprise at her response. Lena noticed that swung over his shoulder was a large cloth bag. Something was dripping from its bottom.
"Why aren't yeh in Hogsmeade?" he asked suspiciously.
"I don't have any reason to be," Lena lied smoothly. She pointed to the bag. "Have you come to feed the Thestrals?"
Hagrid glanced at the bag, then nodded. "Why do yeh ask?"
Lena bit her lip, hesitating. At last, she stood up and asked, "Can I help you?"
By this point, Hagrid didn't just look surprised – he looked astonished. "Help me?"
"Help you feed–" she gestured to the Thestrals, "–them, yes."
The gamekeeper continued to gape at her for a little while longer, before gruffly saying, "All righ', then."
He came closer to her and put the bag on the ground. He opened it, and the smell of raw meat filled Lena's nostrils. Hagrid pulled out a large slab of what looked like raw beef, and held it out to Lena.
"Here yeh go," he grunted.
Not wanting to appear squeamish, Lena took a firm hold of the meat. "Do I give it to any particular one?" she inquired.
The smell of meat had brought the Thestrals in the clearing closer to where Lena and Hagrid were standing, and had also called forth several others from further within the Forest. And all their eyes were fixed on the meat.
Hagrid indicated to the Thestral standing the most far to the left. "Try Umbrius." From the bag, he pulled out what Lena could only assume was a whole cow's leg. "Throw it to him," he told her. "Like this." He threw it, and the cow's leg landed next to the rightmost Thestral. At once, three of them pounced on it.
However, the eyes of Umbrius the Thestral stayed on the meat in Lena's hands. She threw the slab, and it landed directly in front of Umbrius, who eagerly began tearing strips of the meat off, devouring it.
Over the next few minutes, Lena and Hagrid emptied the contents of the bag, and soon all of the hungry Thestrals had their breakfast. Lena observed their consumption of the meat with mild interest. But instead of doing likewise, Hagrid's eyes were on her. She got the sense that he was trying to decide whether to say something to her, and after a minute of silence, it occurred to Lena what that probably was.
"You want to tell me that you saw my mother when you were in Azkaban last year, don't you?" she said, glancing up at the giant man.
After a pause, Hagrid replied, "Heard her, not saw her. I had ter go past her cell ter get ter mine."
Lena nodded. "Did she sound like she'd gone even more mental since being there?" she asked lightly.
"I'd say so," replied Hagrid after some consideration.
"Hard to believe that's even possible," murmured Lena, turning her gaze back to the Thestrals.
"Yer not really like em', are yeh?" said Hagrid suddenly. "Yer parents, I mean."
"No, I wouldn't say I'm like them," said Lena delicately.
"Though' so," said Hagrid, nodding. "Dumbledore wouldn' have picked yeh for Head Girl if yeh were."
Lena didn't know how to reply, so she didn't say anything.
They stood together in silence for a little while longer, watching the Thestrals finish their food. Then Hagrid spoke.
"Well, I've got work ter do," he said, picking the empty bag up. "As for that detention..."
Lena quirked an eyebrow.
"I'll let yeh off with a warning this time," finished Hagrid, his eyes twinkling.
"I appreciate that," replied Lena, half-smiling.
Watching Hagrid walk away, she suddenly felt something crawling up her leg. She looked down; it was Mortimer. She extended her left hand down to pick him up, catching sight of the time on her wristwatch as she did.
"Shit," she muttered, quickly putting Mortimer on her shoulder. The hour was later than she'd realised. Harry had told her he couldn't go to Hogsmeade, so she'd agreed to spend some of the day with him. Giving the Thestrals one last parting glance, she hastily started to make her way out of the Forest.
"Why didn't you let me fight it?"
Remus raised his eyebrows. "I would have thought that was obvious, Harry," he said, surprised.
He was sitting in his office with Harry, who he'd seen wandering the corridors alone. It was a Hogsmeade trip day, and evidently Harry's aunt and uncle had not signed his permission form – which from what he remembered of Lily's descriptions of her sister and brother-in-law, was not entirely surprising. So, happy to take whatever opportunity he could to get to know his friends' son, Remus had invited Harry in to see the newest arrival at Hogwarts: a Grindylow. And now, over a cup of tea, their conversation had turned to Harry's very first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson with Remus.
"Why?" asked Harry again.
"Well," said Remus, frowning slightly, "I assumed that if the Boggart faced you, it would assume the shape of Lord Voldemort."
Harry stared at Remus, who wasn't sure whether the boy was confused by the assumption, or shocked because he'd said the name.
"Clearly, I was wrong," continued Remus, still frowning. "But I didn't think it a good idea for Lord Voldemort to materialise in the staff room. I imagined that people would panic."
"I did think of Voldemort first," said Harry. "But then I – I remembered those Dementors."
That was... unexpected. "I see," said Remus thoughtfully. "Well, well... I'm impressed." He smiled slightly at the look of surprise on Harry's face. "That suggests that what you fear most of all is – fear. Very wise, Harry."
Harry's brow furrowed, and he opened his mouth to say something, only to stop himself and take a sip of tea instead.
But Remus was curious. "What's the matter?" he asked, watching Harry closely.
"It's just that..." Harry hesitated. "Erm, I just think that Lena would disagree."
It took some effort for Remus not to grimace. "Is that so?" he asked politely.
Harry stared down at his mug. "She reckons there's nothing wrong with feeling fear – it's an instinct of survival. It only becomes a problem when in the face of it, you do nothing."
Remus had to admit the idea had merit. 'Not that a Gryffindor would ever think of it,' he thought. It sounded more like a Slytherin ideology – but one of their better ones.
"Perhaps, then," he finally said, "what you fear most is not fear, but a failure to overcome it."
Harry nodded, and Remus could tell that he liked the sound of that more than Remus' initial theory.
He rubbed his chin, looking at Harry. Clearly, the boy thought highly of Lena Lestrange, and Remus was curious to know how that connection had formed. Minerva had given him a brief account of everything that had happened in the Chamber of Secrets at the end of last May, but he wondered if there was something between them pre-existing that. And what was Lestrange's interest in Harry? It concerned Remus.
"Are you close with Lena?" he asked Harry, trying to keep his tone casual.
"Yeah," answered Harry, "I guess you could say that." He eyed Remus warily. "Why do you ask?"
Remus sipped his tea. "It's a little uncommon," he said after swallowing, "to see a friendship that bridges not only the house divide, but that age gap too."
Harry made a non-committal noise.
Trying to delve a little further, Remus asked, "Did you first properly meet in the Chamber of Secrets, or did you know each other before then?"
Harry's brilliant green eyes narrowed. "Why are you so interested?" he asked suspiciously.
"As I said, it's uncommon." Remus hesitated, before saying, "Harry, I was once a thirteen year old boy too, and I know if an attractive, older girl started paying attention to me, I–"
"Hang on," interrupted Harry, holding a hand up, "I don't think you've got the right idea. I don't fancy Lena. And she's not, not using her... her..." he appeared to be struggling to find the words, "her feminine charms or whatever to get something from me." He screwed up his face in disgust. "That would just be wrong; she's like my–" he abruptly stopped.
Remus looked at Harry curiously. Like his what?
Harry sighed. "She's like my sister," he finished quietly.
There was a long pause.
"I was only concerned," said Remus carefully, "because I've seen her get a bit... a bit... oh, Merlin, how do I put it?" he muttered.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't worry," he told Remus, "I know she's not perfect. Believe me, some of the stuff you probably think about her is nowhere near as bad as some of the stuff I know." He shrugged. "She's complicated. You'd be too if you'd lived her life. But I like her," he said firmly. "She's my friend."
Remus leant back in his chair, gazing at Harry. He was being strongly reminded of Lily.
He just hoped that Harry's friendship with Lena would turn out better than his mother's had with Severus Snape.
"I admire you, Harry," Remus eventually admitted. "Not many people would be so willing to look past that... complex history between your families."
Harry snorted. "Her parents were the followers of the guy who murdered my parents. It's not really that complex." He paused, drinking from his mug. Wiping his lips, he continued. "From everything I've heard about my mum, she's nothing like her sister, my aunt. It's the same with Lena and her parents."
"We can't choose our relations," murmured Remus.
"Exactly." Harry appeared to remember something. He cocked his head. "You think Lena's attractive?"
Remus, who had just at that moment taken another sip from his mug, choked on his tea. "W-what?" he spluttered.
"An attractive, older girl," said Harry, grinning. "That's what you said before."
Remus would have scolded him for his impertinence if Harry hadn't so plainly reminded him of James at that moment.
"A purely objective observation," said Remus, trying to hide his embarrassment.
Harry shrugged at his reply, raising his mug to his mouth. Just before he drank from it, he muttered something under his breath that sounded awfully like, "I wouldn't call it objective."
When Harry exited Lupin's office, his mind was still fixed on the potion Snape had prepared for the Defence teacher. He knew he had been wrong about Snape before, back in his First Year, but it was so clear the Potions Master loathed Lupin that how couldn't you at least suspect that Snape might try to cause him harm?
He started to make his way up to the Owlery, his initial destination before being waylaid first by Filch, and then Lupin. Just as he was about to begin his ascent of the West Tower, someone called out his name.
"Harry!" It was Lena.
He turned around, smiling. "Hey," he greeted her. Recalling the words he'd exchanged with Lupin about Lena, he couldn't help but look at her a little more closely than usual.
Her long hair was piled on top of her head in a bun, which meant her whole face was more visible than usual. Harry supposed he could see how she might potentially be called pretty. But the complexion was so pallid, the bags beneath her eyes so obvious, her whole appearance so gaunt, that it was a little peculiar Lupin had thought that Lena was using her looks to manipulate Harry.
Her charisma could be far more dangerous.
"What, do I still have leaves in my hair?" asked a frowning Lena, reaching up to touch her hair, and Harry realised he'd been staring at her too long and obviously.
"No, you're–" He stopped, raising his eyebrows. "Why would you have leaves in your hair?"
"Hmm?" She patted her head to check anyway. "Oh, I was in the Forest."
Harry crossed his arms. "That would be the Forbidden Forest, right?"
Lena placed a hand on her hip. "Really? You're going to lecture me about being out-of-bounds? Didn't you go in there last year just to bother a colony of Acromantulas?"
"I wasn't Head Girl," he reminded her.
"Fair point." She indicated to the staircase in front of them. "Were you going up to the Owlery?"
"Yeah. I don't have a letter to send, I was just going to visit Hedwig."
They began to climb the stairs.
"So why were you in the Forest?" questioned Harry.
"I enjoy the atmosphere."
Harry snorted. "You mean the creepiness and sense of foreboding?"
"You've only ever really been in there at night," Lena pointed out."It's different during the day, and I don't go in particularly deep."
The smell of feathers and droppings soon made itself known, and Harry and Lena entered the Owlery. Being a snowy owl, Hedwig was very easy to pick out. Harry extended his forearm, and Hedwig flew down from her perch.
"Hello," murmured Harry as she landed on his arm. He stroked the back of her head.
"What about you?" asked Lena. "How have you been entertaining yourself this morning without Ron and Hermione here?"
Harry hesitated before replying. "Actually, I was having tea with Professor Lupin in his office."
"Were you, now." There was a certain stiffness in Lena's voice that puzzled Harry. He had been hesitant to tell her because of Lupin's seeming distaste for her; it hadn't occurred to him that the feeling might be mutual.
"He's got a Grindylow now," he told Lena, deciding that was the subject that would most likely avoid any further awkwardness. "In his tank in his office."
"Uh-huh. Are you mainly focusing on creatures in Defence Against the Dark Arts at the moment?"
Harry nodded. "We've covered Boggarts, Red Caps and Kappas. I'm guessing the Grindylow is next." He smiled. "It's definitely become my favourite class."
Lena chuckled wryly. "Amazing the difference a good teacher makes."
"And you think he's good?" asked Harry, curious.
"Yeah," replied Lena nonchalantly. "I mean, from what I've seen of him."
Harry remembered that Lena was now taking private lessons with Dumbledore instead of going to regular class for Defence. "Right, yeah." He wondered why, if she thought he was a good teacher, she had a problem with him. Lupin had implied that he'd seen a less savoury side to Lena. Had there been an argument between them?
They spent a few more minutes in the Owlery, before heading to the library. Lena had offered to help him with his History of Magic homework.
"So the Chief of the Wizards' Council at the time was Murdock Bardoon–"
"Burdock Muldoon," Lena corrected him. "And it was his successor, Elfrida Clagg, that redefined Beings as all magical creatures that could speak a human tongue."
Harry quickly wrote that down. "How do you remember all this stuff?" he mumbled.
"I have a very good memory."
Pausing his writing mid-sentence, Harry looked up at Lena, a question having formed in his mind. "Does practising Occlumency help with that?"
Lena smiled. "That's a good question," she said. "See, there are actually a couple of different techniques for Occlumency. One is just letting your mind go blank, with the exception of what you want people to think you're thinking. But that's not how I do it."
Harry tried to remember what she'd told him after the events of the Chamber. "You described it as being like a house."
"Yes. It's a more complicated process, but it does give you more structure, more control over your mind – including your memory. It's similar to the method of loci."
"Which is?"
"The method of loci," explained Lena, "also known as a 'memory palace', is a technique of memory enhancement that relies on visualisation and spatial memory. It's been used by both Wizards and Muggles for over two thousand years."
"It sounds complicated," said Harry.
"It isn't really. You could learn it if you wanted to – but only if you were willing to put in the effort and the time. However," her expression became stern, "you have a History of Magic essay to finish. So no more distractions." She pointed at the parchment in front of him. "Back to work."
When Harry had completed his homework to Lena's satisfaction, they exited the library, heading in the direction of the Gryffindor Tower so Harry could drop off his work before having lunch in the Hall.
Walking down a corridor on the first-floor, Harry heard a group of girls' voices coming from around the corner. Before he knew what was happening, he had been yanked into a nearby classroom.
He stared in confusion at Lena, who was shutting the door behind them. "What are you–" he began to ask, but stopped when she shushed him. They silently waited in the room for almost a minute before Lena opened the door a crack. She peered outside, and upon seeing the corridor was empty, sighed in relief and pulled the door open the full way.
"What was that all about?" asked Harry, bemused.
"Just some First Years," replied Lena, walking back into the corridor.
Harry followed her out. "Since when do you hide from First Years?"
"I wasn't hiding from them," said Lena tetchily. "I was avoiding them."
Harry didn't see much of a difference, but only asked, "And why were you avoiding them?"
"Because they would have wanted to talk to me, and I didn't feel like it."
He glanced up at Lena. She was staring straight ahead as they walked, and Harry thought her expression was troubled.
That made him remember something. "Lena, I've been thinking."
"Sounds dangerous."
"Ha-ha. No, I've been thinking about what you told me about Neville."
Lena looked at him sharply. "Is that so?"
On the first full day back at Hogwarts, Harry had met with Lena in the library to ask her about the Dementors. Well, that had been the first thing they'd discussed. The second thing he'd wanted to know was just what exactly was Neville's problem with Lena. So she had told him what her parents had done. Now, Harry could understand why Neville looked at her with so much hate.
"I think you should talk to him about it," he said.
"And what do you think I should say to him?" asked Lena quietly.
"What you told me," said Harry. "That you hate what your parents did, that you're not like them."
Lena tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, sighing. "What would be the point, Harry?"
"He'd know you're different, he wouldn't..." he paused, wondering what was the most delicate way to phrase his next words.
But he needn't have bothered with such sensitivity when talking to Lena. "He wouldn't hate my guts?" she said flatly.
"Er, yes."
"That doesn't matter, Harry. How I feel shouldn't have to be any concern of Neville's."
"But you didn't do anything to his parents!" argued Harry. "There's no real reason for him to hate you!"
"Maybe not, but he's got a valid reason to hate. And my presence here makes it a lot easier for him to feel that hate."
"But that isn't good for him, is it?"
"Why not?" countered Lena, shrugging. "I've held on to my hatred for fourteen years, and it hasn't done me any harm."
Harry genuinely couldn't tell whether she was joking, or being deadly serious.
That night, Remus noticed that Lena Lestrange was actually eating dinner in the Great Hall for once, joining the rest of the school for the Halloween Feast. She was sitting at the end of the Slytherin table nearest to the Hall's entrance, opposite two of the First Year girls. They were talking to her, but the older girl seemed lost in thought.
Lena had been on his mind since his conversation with Harry that morning. Had he been too quick to judge her in that last Patronus lesson? Harry had sounded so sure of her. Did that just come from helping him take down the heir of Slytherin, or was there something else?
There was one thing in particular that Harry had said that was now etched in Remus' mind. 'Some of the stuff you probably think about her is nowhere near as bad as some of the stuff I know.'
Remus looked down the staff table, to the centre where Dumbledore was sat. He had chosen Lena for Head Girl – an unexpected choice, he gathered from the gossip in the staffroom. That suggested the headmaster regarded Lena highly. Did he know whatever it was that Harry knew, the 'bad stuff'? If so, and he'd still selected her for the position, surely that meant there was enough 'good stuff' too.
He would talk to her, Remus decided. Reinstate the offer of Patronus lessons. If she refused, then that was it – he would spend no more time dwelling upon the enigmatic girl. If she accepted, then maybe he would finally discover what made Harry and Dumbledore trust her so much.
Just as he'd made his decision, he was drawn into a conversation with Filius about the various creatures Remus' Third and Fourth Year classes had been studying. But every so often, his eyes flicked back to Lena.
Which was why he noticed when she got up from the table when the after-Feast entertainment –provided by the Hogwarts ghosts – began, and discretely slipped out of the Hall.
'Well, there's no time like the present,' thought Remus. He quietly excused himself from the staff table, and left via the teachers' entrance, unnoticed by the eyes in the Hall that were fixed upon the gliding ghosts.
Lena was about to descend the stairs to the dungeons when she heard footsteps behind her. She looked back over her shoulder, and was stunned to see who was briskly walking towards her.
"Lena," called out Professor Lupin. "May I have a word?"
She hesitated, then politely responded, "Of course, sir."
Lupin looked around. "Do you mind if we converse in a less potentially public place?" It appeared he wasn't intending this to be just a brief chat.
"Not at all," said Lena. She pointed to the end of the corridor in which they were standing. "There's a courtyard outside on the left, if that works?
Lupin gave his assent, and a minute they were sitting outside on one of the courtyard's benches. It was a cloudy night, so there was little moonlight, but the burning torches hanging all around the walls provided more than enough illumination.
"How can I help you, Professor?" asked Lena smoothly.
"I was speaking to Harry today," said Lupin.
"Yes, he mentioned it."
Lupin raised his eyebrows. "I see. And did he happen to mention anything we discussed?"
"Just the arrival of a Grindylow."
"Ah. Well, something else that also came up was what form Harry had expected his Boggart to take in our first class. He told me a Dementor."
Lena nodded slowly. "I can see how that would be what he fears most."
"Do you?" asked Lupin, sounding surprised. "My initial belief was that it would be Lord Voldemort."
"Oh, no," said Lena immediately. "I mean, if someone murdered your parents, do you think you would be more scared of them, or would you be more angry at them?"
The Defence professor considered this for a moment. "I'd want revenge," he finally answered.
"Exactly," said Lena. "Your anger and hate towards them would outweigh your fear. So it makes far more sense that a Dementor, something that tries to suck out all of your hope, would frighten Harry most. A fear of being helpless in the face of terror."
"That," said Lupin after a short pause, "is remarkably similar to what Harry said you would think."
"Huh," said Lena, a little surprised. "He actually does listen to me sometimes."
"Evidently," remarked Lupin. He was gazing at Lena intently. "I would like to apologise," he eventually said, "for the way I handled our last Patronus lesson."
That perplexed Lena. "Why? You didn't do anything wrong." Now, she felt a little embarrassed. "I should be the one apologising to you. Scratch that, I'm the one who have apologised to you weeks ago."
However, Lupin shook his head. "I'm your teacher. You were obviously... distressed. And I think I only escalated that, instead of trying to help you."
"But there wasn't any way to help me," insisted Lena. "Not at the time. When I get angry like that, I don't want to be helped." She looked directly into Lupin's eyes. "I promise you, Professor, you are in no way to blame for me losing my temper, and acting like..." She bit her lip. "Well, like a bitch."
"I think that's being a little harsh on yourself."
Lena looked at him incredulously.
Lupin's lips turned up at one corner. "I'd say it was more childish than bitchy."
She snorted amusedly. "Childish?"
Lupin's face broke into a full grin. "I mean, you basically threw a tantrum."
A small, indignant noise escaped Lena. "I did not!"
"You stamped your foot."
Lena opened her mouth to argue, then shrugged. "Fair enough," she conceded.
There was a companionable silence for a little while, before Lupin broke it, his expression once again serious.
"With that been said," he began, "there were certain things you said, attitudes you expressed, that I did find... troubling."
Lena held a hand up. "I'll stop you there. You're referring to when I suggested that anyone who wasn't as smart as me was an idiot, I take it?"
"Yes."
Nodding slowly, Lena tucked her right foot under her left leg, making herself more comfortable. "Okay. Here's the thing, Professor: I am not, by nature, a prejudiced person. I am not a bigot. But nor am I naturally an empathetic person. By that, I don't mean I have difficulty imagining how other people feel –I struggle to care. Tolerance is a not a virtue instinctive to me, especially towards anyone I consider less than extraordinary. So I have had to learn and practise it. I try to be empathetic, to be caring, to be tolerant. But when I get angry, when I lose my temper, they're the first things to go."
Lupin didn't respond right away; he appeared to be contemplating her words. At last, he said, "I appreciate your honesty."
Lena inclined her head in acknowledgement.
There was a short pause, then Lupin began to say, "Lena, I'd like to off–"
At that moment, Professor McGonagall came running into the courtyard. "Remus!" she exclaimed. "There you–" She broke off when she noticed Lena's presence. She looked between the Defence teacher and the Head Girl for a moment, clearly confused.
"What's the matter, Minerva?" asked Lupin, who had hurriedly stood at the deputy headmistress' entrance. Lena copied the motion.
McGonagall decided to ignore the oddness of finding Lupin and Lena alone in the courtyard at night, and turned her full attention back to Lupin. "It's the Fat Lady," she told him worriedly. "She's been attacked."
Lena's eyes widened in shock. She knew the Fat Lady's portrait was the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. So if someone had attacked her, that must have meant someone was trying to force their way into it.
Lupin's expression was equally stunned. "By who?"
It would have been imperceptible to anyone else, but Lena was quick enough to catch a flicker of sadness in McGonagall's eyes before she answered Lupin.
"She's saying it was Sirius Black," said McGonagall gravely, "and we think he may still be in the castle."
If Lupin hadn't been there, then Lena's first thought may have been about the fact that Black was her mother's cousin, and wondering whether anyone else would bring up that connection.
But the moment McGonagall had said "Sirius Black", Lupin's expression had changed, and Lena's focus was entirely on that.
Because she knew that expression. She knew that conflict written on his face – those simultaneous feelings of anger, pain and longing.
It was what she felt every time she thought of Voldemort.
During all his classes the next day, Remus found it difficult to concentrate. And it wasn't helping that all anyone could talk about was Sirius Black's attack on the Fat Lady.
As his students of the final class of the day filed out of the classroom at the end of the lesson, Remus began picking up everything he needed off his desk in order to take it back into his office. Often, after he finished his classes for the day, Remus would go to the staffroom for a chat. But not today.
Minerva, Filius, Pomona, all the teachers who had taught him while he was a student – they all knew how close he had once been to Sirius. And ever since news of the attack broke last night, they had been looking at him piteously. And then on the opposite end of the spectrum was Snape, who had taken every chance he could to imply that Remus was in league with the escaped convict.
The door shut behind the last student, and Remus began to climb the small staircase that led up to his office. But then the door swung open again, and there stood Lena.
"Do you have a moment, sir?" she asked.
Remus walked over to the nearest student desk and put his stuff down. "Of course," he said, pulling up two chairs and sitting down in one. He gestured to the other. "Have a seat."
Lena shut the door behind her and sat opposite Remus. When she didn't immediately say anything, Remus took the opportunity to speak first.
"I'm glad you came," he said. "It gives me a chance to finish asking you what I'd wanted to last night."
Although Lena nodded, Remus got a sense she wasn't properly listening to him. Rather than looking at him, she appeared to be studying him. Her hair was out today, and she had pulled one of the long tresses to the front, twirling it around two fingers.
Remus cleared his throat, a little unnerved. "So, was there something else you wanted to ask," he said, trying to hide his discomfort, "or did you just want to finish our discussion from last night?"
Lena continued to study him. Then she said, "Did you know Sirius Black is my cousin?"
There was nothing accusatory in the way she asked it. At most, there was a mild interest in her tone.
"Yes," replied Remus, after a moment's hesitation.
Slowly, Lena nodded once. "My first cousin, once removed," she said, apparently deciding this needed further elaboration. Her manner was incredibly offhand, with the exception of her eyes, which were holding an intimidating intensity.
"Yes," said Remus again, unsure of what else there was to be said.
"I was incredibly curious about him, you know," said Lena casually. "When I was a little kid, I mean. He was one of the few members of my extended family I never met. But he was talked about, occasionally." At this point, Lena finally let go of her hair. She slightly tilted her head to the side, and her voice became less airy. "Mostly, they talked about how he had dishonoured the family name." She smiled wryly. "How he was the shame of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."
A muscle twitched in Remus' face, as a pang shot through his body. The sardonic way she had said the full, 'official' title of the Black family was eerily identical how to Sirius had always said it.
"They called him," continued Lena, "a Blood Traitor, and for that terrible offense, he was disowned, his name blasted off the Black family tapestry. So you can imagine my surprise when it turned out that he was an even more fervent and loyal follower of Lord Voldemort than anyone else in my family."
It was the second time he'd heard her use Voldemort's name – a choice he found quite surprising. But all he replied was, "Yes, I can imagine."
Then Lena said something completely unexpected. "But you don't have to imagine, do you? Because surely, my surprise would have been nothing compared to your shock that your friend wasn't who you thought he was."
Remus stood up so suddenly that his chair fell back. He stared down at Lena, stunned.
She was sitting with her legs crossed, her hands folded in her lap, and looking up at Remus, meeting his gaze unflinchingly. She was so poised – the exact opposite of how Remus now felt.
After what was only about ten seconds – but seemed like an hour – of silence, Remus quietly asked, "How did you know?"
"That you used to be friends?" She became more earnest . "Your expression when Professor McGonagall said his name."
Remus frowned. He righted his chair, and sat down again. "You could tell that just from the look on my face?"
"I recognise that look." Now, Lena lost some of that poise. She was visibly struggling with something. Her fingers twitched in her lap, and she shifted in her seat.
"Explain," said Remus simply, crossing his arms and leaning back.
Lena looked down at her lap for a few seconds, then back at Remus. "You want to hate him," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "you really want to, but you just – can't."
Remus stared at her. She had leant forward, and was looking at him so imploringly, like she was begging him to understand.
"Go on," he said quietly, unable to tear his eyes from her.
"You know what he's done is unforgiveable," said Lena, her voice beginning to slightly shake, "but you owe him. Because he was there for you, when he could have easily turned away like everyone else."
Memories of all the full moons that Sirius had stayed with him, keeping him company – keeping him sane – flashed through Remus' mind. After Hogwarts, during the war, James and Peter had sometimes struggled to be there for his transformations – family commitments, work for the Order – but Sirius, until that last year when Dumbledore had sent Remus away to work undercover, had been there every time.
"You can be angry at him," continued Lena, the sadness in her eyes unmistakable now. "Be furious. You want to hurt him. You want revenge. But you can't hate him, not ever. Because he was kind," she finished, her voice cracking.
Remus looked down at his hands. They were trembling. Desperate to stop their shaking, he clenched them into fists, the knuckles going white. He turned his gaze back to Lena. She was staring at him with something he'd not seen in her eyes before – compassion.
He swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump that was forming in his throat. "You really do know that look."
She half-smiled. "Professor," she said softly, "I know."
Remus desperately wanted to know who it was that Lena felt that way towards. It couldn't have been one of her parents – whenever she mentioned them, she sounded so emotionless, so distant to them. Another family member, perhaps? One of the Death Eaters? He didn't think it was another student–
Then it struck Remus. She didn't just mean she knew how he felt about Sirius.
She knew.
He tensed, and quietly asked, "How long?"
"Since the moment I first saw you on the Hogwarts Express."
Remus furrowed his brow. "I don't understand. How could you know so quickly?"
"Quite easily. The scars on your face were obviously inflicted by a species of magical creature, and some are older than others, so you must have sustained them over a period of time, rather than in a single attack. The greying of the hair around your temples is clearly premature, as are the lines starting to form around your eyes, because the rest of your appearance suggests you're in your mid-thirties, at most. That's an indication you frequently experience severe stress. Your clothes are fraying and have been mended numerous time, instead of buying new ones, which implies you don't have the money to spare. A further clue that points to a precarious financial situation – which would suggest something has been preventing you from gaining steady employment – is that you actually accepted the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, which is widely regarded as one of the least desirable jobs in Wizarding Britain, due to the ridiculously high turnover rate, and the many cases of people leaving the position due to permanent injury. That Dumbledore offered you this position now, when faced with no applications for the position, suggests that he was confident in your ability, but aware there were other circumstances that could create difficultly, which he was only now willing to overlook as a consequence of desperately needing to fill the position. All of this points towards your affliction." Noticing Remus' astonishment, she shrugged. "I've spent seven summers in Knockturn Alley. I know a werewolf when I see one."
There was a pause.
Remus raised his eyebrows. "And it took you how long to figure all of this out?"
"About seven seconds."
"That is both impressive, and a little frightening."
Lena smirked. "Story of my life, Professor."
Remus chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. Eventually, he said, "So you've known all this time, but still agreed to take private lessons from me?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Because, as you so thoroughly pointed out a minute ago, I'm a werewolf."
She cocked her head. "When there isn't a full moon, do you ever get the urge to violently attack people?"
"No," said Remus firmly.
"Well, I do," said Lena bluntly, "and I'm not even a werewolf. So you're a better person than me. And speaking of private lessons, that's the other reason I came here."
"Oh?"
"Yes." Nervously, she began to play with her hair. "See, I was kind of hoping that after having this conversation, you might, well, understand me a little better, and trust me a little more, and, erm, put that offer of Patronus lessons back on the table."
Remus smiled. "Well, as it happens, I was going to ask you if you'd like to resume them last night, before Professor McGonagall interrupted us."
Lena's expression brightened. "Really?" Then a look of irritation crossed her face. "Wait, you mean I didn't actually have to come here today and be all bloody vulnerable and the rest of that shit to get back in your good books?"
He couldn't help but laugh. "No," he told her, "but I'm glad you did."