Chapter 12
Midnight Explorations
Rugby, England
Something was going on. Wait until late to explore, reading one of my texts on Werewolf mating habits to keep me occupied until I hear Lupin's door lock.
Grab my cloak, which never leaves my bag when not being used. Toss it on. Turn on candle.
Princess room first. I slide the lock breaker over the hinges and chambers like with Dad's study. Open door.
This was definitely a little girl's room. She could have been no more than eight, I suppose. Look around.
Little kid drawings in a shelf. Pick them up, examine them.
"Mummy" "Daddy" "Remy" "Me". Little kid house, stick figure people with brown hair, names underneath. "Remy" had little wolf ears and a tail. She drew a little heart next to each person, but "Remy's" heart was a bit larger and had next to it, "I'm sorry, big brother."
Aw. She'd loved him.
There were more pictures. Moony, majestic by the moon in the small woods behind the house. Mummy making cookies. Daddy reading to he at night. Remy and her playing cards.
But there was something odd about the pictures.
Of course. The parents would dote on the daughter, but only she noticed her brother. I saw the writing on the back of one.
"I love Mummy, and I love Daddy, and they love me. I love Remy, and he loves me mostest of all. But Mummy and Daddy don't love Remy. Why? I think there afraid of him. But why? I like the wolf. It's like Remy. Pretty and proud and odd and unicke. I like the wolf as much as I like Remy, but he gets mad when I say that. He says it hurts to be a wolf, he says the wolf's why Mummy and Daddy hate him, I should never go near it, I should be scared of it. But I'm not scared. I'll never be scared of Remy. I'm proud of my big brother, and I love him very much."
Kinda sad, really. The little girl didn't know about werewolves.
But she felt her big brother could protect her always. She never guessed that her brother was the one who she should be concerned about.
That was why Lupin didn't want to talk about it. He hadn't been able to protect her, she'd died as a child. Probably some childhood illness. It must have hurt, knowing she'd trusted him like that when no one else did, and then he let her die.
Poor girl. Poor Professor.
Put them back. Look around some more.
Nothing. All just girl's toys.
But it hits me then- They were Muggle toys. Had Professor Lupin been Muggle born too? None of the books in here were spell books or wizard fairy tales. None of the toys were enchanted. This really was a Muggle Princess room.
Damn.
Cozy bloodied living room now. Careful not to make noise on the stairs.
Creepy in the dim candle light. Look at the carpet. There were bloodstains melded in neatly with the color. The walls had the same abuse, although they had attempted to cover it up with paint.
Why? Why the blood on the carpet and walls? Look around the room for clues.
Books here. Muggle lit and spell books. Very Lupin. Search more.
Cards, half-finished letters, pens, quills, Muggle and Wizard stationary.
A letter opener. Dried blood on the side of the blade, so old that what hadn't rubbed off looked almost painted on. Why the blood?
So much blood in the cozy home.
I was confused, to say the least. Lupin had always seemed pleasant. But the blood- Normal people don't surround themselves with it, then attempt to mask it with décor.
Sit down, Draco. Think. Look at the pictures and think.
Hmm?
The pictures. Why hadn't I noticed it before?
They were of a smiling family, except for Lupin. He was about six in the one I was currently looking at. His little sister on her father's lap and smiling widely. The mother was next to the father. Lupin had to sit slightly askew to them. Like he didn't really belong there with the happy smiling family. His eyes were slightly watered with tears.
Look around. All were like this. In fact, Lupin wasn't even in most of them. Why would Lupin surround himself with pictures of a family that loathed him, even in family portraits?
Shock. Of course. The locations.
Above the couch. One picture was three inches from the top of it. Another was three feet away, a foot higher. In the middle of a wall for no reason.
No one puts two pictures at such different spots on the same wall.
Not unless they were hiding something. Pull one off the wall.
There it was. A large gash splitting the support beam. Deep crimson was in the gash, which was actually four small gashes that ran deep.
Wolf's claws.
Shit. Lupin, what the hell did you do here?
Put it back, check other. More bloody gashes, these with small gray fur tufts sticking out of the wood.
Put picture back. Damn.
Go downstairs. Basement.
Pull on chain. Lights.
Fucking hell.
Nothing but blood. Strewn everywhere. The entire room had it painted in ribbons across the walls, floor, windows, even ceiling.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Nothing but a vacant space full of blood.
How could Lupin live like this?
Go upstairs to check master bedroom.
Hope it's not blood soaked as well.
Midnight Explorations
Rugby, England
Something was going on. Wait until late to explore, reading one of my texts on Werewolf mating habits to keep me occupied until I hear Lupin's door lock.
Grab my cloak, which never leaves my bag when not being used. Toss it on. Turn on candle.
Princess room first. I slide the lock breaker over the hinges and chambers like with Dad's study. Open door.
This was definitely a little girl's room. She could have been no more than eight, I suppose. Look around.
Little kid drawings in a shelf. Pick them up, examine them.
"Mummy" "Daddy" "Remy" "Me". Little kid house, stick figure people with brown hair, names underneath. "Remy" had little wolf ears and a tail. She drew a little heart next to each person, but "Remy's" heart was a bit larger and had next to it, "I'm sorry, big brother."
Aw. She'd loved him.
There were more pictures. Moony, majestic by the moon in the small woods behind the house. Mummy making cookies. Daddy reading to he at night. Remy and her playing cards.
But there was something odd about the pictures.
Of course. The parents would dote on the daughter, but only she noticed her brother. I saw the writing on the back of one.
"I love Mummy, and I love Daddy, and they love me. I love Remy, and he loves me mostest of all. But Mummy and Daddy don't love Remy. Why? I think there afraid of him. But why? I like the wolf. It's like Remy. Pretty and proud and odd and unicke. I like the wolf as much as I like Remy, but he gets mad when I say that. He says it hurts to be a wolf, he says the wolf's why Mummy and Daddy hate him, I should never go near it, I should be scared of it. But I'm not scared. I'll never be scared of Remy. I'm proud of my big brother, and I love him very much."
Kinda sad, really. The little girl didn't know about werewolves.
But she felt her big brother could protect her always. She never guessed that her brother was the one who she should be concerned about.
That was why Lupin didn't want to talk about it. He hadn't been able to protect her, she'd died as a child. Probably some childhood illness. It must have hurt, knowing she'd trusted him like that when no one else did, and then he let her die.
Poor girl. Poor Professor.
Put them back. Look around some more.
Nothing. All just girl's toys.
But it hits me then- They were Muggle toys. Had Professor Lupin been Muggle born too? None of the books in here were spell books or wizard fairy tales. None of the toys were enchanted. This really was a Muggle Princess room.
Damn.
Cozy bloodied living room now. Careful not to make noise on the stairs.
Creepy in the dim candle light. Look at the carpet. There were bloodstains melded in neatly with the color. The walls had the same abuse, although they had attempted to cover it up with paint.
Why? Why the blood on the carpet and walls? Look around the room for clues.
Books here. Muggle lit and spell books. Very Lupin. Search more.
Cards, half-finished letters, pens, quills, Muggle and Wizard stationary.
A letter opener. Dried blood on the side of the blade, so old that what hadn't rubbed off looked almost painted on. Why the blood?
So much blood in the cozy home.
I was confused, to say the least. Lupin had always seemed pleasant. But the blood- Normal people don't surround themselves with it, then attempt to mask it with décor.
Sit down, Draco. Think. Look at the pictures and think.
Hmm?
The pictures. Why hadn't I noticed it before?
They were of a smiling family, except for Lupin. He was about six in the one I was currently looking at. His little sister on her father's lap and smiling widely. The mother was next to the father. Lupin had to sit slightly askew to them. Like he didn't really belong there with the happy smiling family. His eyes were slightly watered with tears.
Look around. All were like this. In fact, Lupin wasn't even in most of them. Why would Lupin surround himself with pictures of a family that loathed him, even in family portraits?
Shock. Of course. The locations.
Above the couch. One picture was three inches from the top of it. Another was three feet away, a foot higher. In the middle of a wall for no reason.
No one puts two pictures at such different spots on the same wall.
Not unless they were hiding something. Pull one off the wall.
There it was. A large gash splitting the support beam. Deep crimson was in the gash, which was actually four small gashes that ran deep.
Wolf's claws.
Shit. Lupin, what the hell did you do here?
Put it back, check other. More bloody gashes, these with small gray fur tufts sticking out of the wood.
Put picture back. Damn.
Go downstairs. Basement.
Pull on chain. Lights.
Fucking hell.
Nothing but blood. Strewn everywhere. The entire room had it painted in ribbons across the walls, floor, windows, even ceiling.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Nothing but a vacant space full of blood.
How could Lupin live like this?
Go upstairs to check master bedroom.
Hope it's not blood soaked as well.