Many thanks to the writers of the book "A Sorcerer's guide to Harry Potter" or something like that, for explaining how Arithmancy works. Well, it's actually a lot like numerology, but I just called it Arithmancy. It really works too! If you like, I can write a stand-alone story in which I explain how to do it.
Well, here's the next chapter! And review, please!
A few days later, still November 1993…
"How long have you known?"
"Ages," Hermione whispered. "Since I did Professor Snape's essay..."
Remus had only been away from the school-life for a couple of days, a mere weekend, but when he returned on Monday, it seemed like weeks, so much had happened. The school was buzzing with the news that the Dementors had been to the Quidditch match, and that the Gryffindor seeker – Harry – had fallen off his broom, from fifty feet straight down, and his broom had crashed into the Whomping Willow. Miraculously enough, Harry had not been hurt, but Gryffindor had lost the match. Dumbledore had been infuriated, according to professor Flitwick, and he had used a Patronus to get the creatures off the pitch. Then the Headmaster had put Harry on a stretcher and taken him to the hospital wing.
Remus quietly studied the boy during breakfast that morning. Apart from looking shaken and in a state of grief because of the loss of his broom, Harry appeared okay again. Oh well, Remus would be teaching him this afternoon anyway, so he could observe him a little closer. Maybe even talk to him – Remus had been wondering how the boy was ever since that Halloween. He just hadn't had the time.
As he got up from his seat at the high table to get to his classroom, he noticed Snape looking at him with an expression he didn't like at all. Predator looking at prey, something like that. A slow smile crept up the Potion Master's face, baring his yellow teeth. It gave Remus the creeps. He shivered slightly, then shook the uneasy feeling off and walked away, leaving Snape alone.
~*~
"Professor Lupin! You're back!"
Okay, this is just getting ridiculous, Remus thought. It was the first class after lunch, and practically the whole day, students had been acting as if he'd just returned from some perilous journey they'd never expected him to return from.
"You know, it's really great you like me all so much and are so happy I'm back," he told the class – now even Harry and his friends walked in looking as if seeing Remus was the best thing that had ever happened to them in their entire life – "but what is going on?"
He really shouldn't've asked.
The class burst into a storm of complaints about Snape and his lesson about werewolves. This was the first time Remus heard that Snape had drastically changed the schedule Remus had put up for him, and he didn't like it at all. Especially not the subject – he had more than only a faint suspicious that a lesson about werewolves wasn't a coincidence. An essay about how to recognise and kill a werewolf was even worse.
"It's not fair, he was only filling in, why should he give us homework?" a girl called Lisa called out.
"We don't know anything about werewolves – two rolls of parchment!"
"Did you tell Professor Snape we haven't covered them yet?" Remus asked, frowning slightly. Not that he expected Snape to pay any attention to that…
"Yes, but he said we were really behind he wouldn't listen –"
" – two rolls of parchment!" The class looked so heated and indignant that Remus smiled.
"Don't worry," he said. "I´ll speak to professor Snape. You don't have to do the essay." I´ll kick his a – behind more likely…
His students gave a relieved sigh, except for Hermione Granger. She sat in a corner of the classroom and was looking disappointed. "Oh no. I've already finished it!" she sighed.
Nobody paid any attention to her, however. The class sat down, relieved, took out their books, and the lesson began. For this lesson, Remus had provided himself with a Hinkypunk, a little, smoke-like creature.
"Lures travellers into bogs," he told the class as they were taking notes. "You notice the lantern dangling from his hand? Hops ahead – people follow the light – then –"
As if they had practised it, the Hinkypunk made a squelching noise against the glass of the case he was kept in. The students giggled softly and eyed the little creature suspiciously.
The bell rang and everybody got up and packed their things. They all headed for the door, including Harry, but Remus called him back. "Wait a moment, Harry. I´d like a word."
The black-haired boy stayed behind and looked silently as Remus hung a cloth over the box containing the Hinkypunk.
"I heard about the match," Remus started the conversation. He took his books and put them in his briefcase. "I'm sorry about your broomstick. Is there any chance of fixing it?"
"No," said Harry. "The tree smashed it to bits." The Whomping Willow, of course. Remus sighed. "They planted the Whomping Willow the same year that I arrived at Hogwarts," he told the boy. "People used to play a game, trying to get near enough to touch the trunk." Even the Marauders did it – except me. "In the end, a boy called Davey Gudgeon nearly lost an eye, and we were forbidden to go near it. No broomstick would have a chance." He continued packing his things, while Harry seemed to ponder something.
"Did you hear about the Dementors too?" he finally asked, with some difficulty. Remus quickly turned his eye on him, observing him sharply. "Yes, I did. I don't think any of us have seen professor Dumbledore that angry. They have been growing restless for some time – furious at his refusal to let them inside the grounds… I supposed they were the reason you fell?"
"Yes," Harry answered. he hesitated, then he suddenly asked: "why? Why do they affect me like that? Am I just…?" weaker than everybody else? Remus finished the question for himself.
"It has nothing to do with weakness," he said quickly, voice sharp. "The Dementors affect you worse than the others because there are horrors in your past that the others don't have."
A ray of sunlight fell through the window, on Harry's face. His green eyes shone, and in the light they seemed even greener, an unearthly, impossible green.
"Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth," Remus continued. "They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles feel their presence, though they can't see them. Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself... soul-less and evil. You'll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. And the worst that happened to you, Harry, is enough to make anyone fall off their broom. You have nothing to feel ashamed of."
"When they get near me –" Harry looked away, at Remus' old desk. "I can hear Voldemort murdering my mum."
Lily. Remus almost gripped Harry's shoulders, put his arm around it, but reconsidered. Harry would think him some kind of freak, no doubt. He turned his attention to his briefcase again.
"Why did they have to come to the match?" Harry said suddenly, his tone bitter.
"They're getting hungry," said Remus, thinking with disgust at what kind of food those creatures wanted. He closed his briefcase firmly. "Dumbledore won't let them into the school, so their supply of human prey had dried up… I don't think they could resist the large
crowd around the Quidditch field. All that excitement ... emotions running high... it was their idea of a feast."
"Azkaban must be terrible," Harry muttered. Remus nodded, his expression closed. This wasn't exactly his favourite topic of discussion. He clutched the handle of his briefcase in his hand. "The fortress is set on a tiny island, way out to sea, but they don't need walls and water to keep the prisoners in, not when they're all trapped inside their own heads, incapable of a single cheery thought. Most of them go mad within weeks."
"But Sirius Black escaped from them," Harry said slowly. "He got away..."
The sudden mention of Sirius made Remus' arm jerk in surprise, and his briefcase fell from the desk. He quickly stooped to catch it. "Yes," he said, straightening up again. He hoped that his expression was as neutral as he hoped it to be. "Black must have found a way to fight them. I wouldn't have believed it possible.... Dementors are supposed to drain a wizard of his powers if he is left with them too long...." Supposed to… but why didn't they?
"You made that Dementor on the train back off," said Harry suddenly. He had a hopeful look in his eyes.
"There are – certain defences one can use," said Remus carefully. "But there was only one Dementor on the train. The more there are, the more difficult it becomes to resist."
"What defences?" said Harry at once, eagerly. "Can you teach me?"
"I don't pretend to be an expert at fighting Dementors, Harry, quite the contrary..."
"But if the Dementors come to another Quidditch match, I need to be able to fight them – " There was now an urgent ring in Harry's voice. Remus looked at him. Harry's eyes were set, he looked determined, as if he was going to find out how to do it anyway, with Remus' help or not. The resemblance with his father was painful.
Remus hesitated for another second or so, then said: "Well... all right. I'll try and help. But it'll have to wait until next term, I'm afraid. I have a lot to do before the holidays. I chose a very inconvenient time to fall ill."
A sunny smile broke through on Harry's face. "Okay," he said. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it," Remus replied. "Now, get off. You'll be late for your next lesson."
He watched the boy walk out of the classroom and close the door behind him, then he pulled his hair and pulled some faces in utter frustration. I'm going to catch Sirius single-handedly, he thought, and use him as one of those boxing bags things until he paid for this.
But first Snape.
~*~
"Werewolves, Severus?"
"Yes, what about them?" Snape tried to pretend innocence, but the smirk playing around the corners of his mouth made that attempt laughable. He was sitting behind his desk, looking totally unimpressed.
"What were you thinking?" Remus was nearly loosing his temper. "Was it so difficult to stick to the damn schedule I made?"
"Well, now you mention it; yes it was. It is no wonder the students are behind. I can't believe this is really the level of the third year students. I figured it was about time they learned about more dangerous creatures than Kappas and Redcaps. After all, Defence Against the Dark Arts is all about learning how to fight – how shall I put this? – dark creatures you meet in everyday life? Yes, that description certainly fits here, doesn't it, Lupin?" Somehow, Snape managed to turn even Remus' name into an insult.
And to make things worse, Remus had no idea what to say back. He already knew that he moment he returned to his office, he would know insult after insult, but right now he was simply too infuriated to answer the Potion Master.
Snape smiled – at least, he twisted his lips into what someone could qualify as a smile. "What's the matter, Lupin? Swallowed your tongue?" He was in control of the situation, and he knew it.
Remus didn't come any further than a weak "I hate you."
"Likewise," replied Snape coolly. "Now, if you would be so kind as to leave…"
Remus already slammed the door shut.
~*~
'Wolfsbane, Aconitum napellus. Highly poisonous herb. Blooming period: July and August. Commonly found on hills, next to creeks, rivers and lakes and on mountain meadows to alpine heights. Wolfsbane has a stimulating, then a soothing effect on the central nerve-system. The aconite is used in potions against pain in the nerves and rheumatism. The latest discovery is the use of Wolfsbane in the Wolfsbane Potions, which is used on Lycantropes.
Since Wolfsbane is highly poisonous, it is strongly advised that it is well labelled and kept out of reach of children.'
Well, that made sense. A little. Soothing to the nerves – it was some kind of painkiller, at least, in very small doses it was. Okay, in large doses it stopped the pain too, but not exactly how you would want it.
Remus flipped a few pages of the massive book about herbs and plants, until he reached the page with Deadly Nightshade. He started reading, leaning against one of bookcases in the library.
'Deadly Nightshade, Atropa belladonna. Highly poisonous herb. Blooming period: June to August. Found in shadowy forests and on meadows of forest-rich parts of Europe, into sub-Alpine areas. Dried Nightshade works on the different nerve-areas, lessens the formation of gastric juices and weakens the muscles. Nowadays, only the pure alkaloids are used. They stop cramps, and are used against heavy pains, inflammations, gripes, nerve- and eyediseases, Parkinson's disease and, in the form of the Wolfsbane Potion, on Lycantropes. Since Nightshade is highly poisonous, it is strongly advised that it is well labelled and kept out of reach of children.'
Again some kind of painkiller. Remus shut the book and took another from the shelve. He had decided to do some research on the Wolfsbane Potion, not that he didn't trust Snape, but… he wanted to know what he was drinking.
A long yawning made him look up. He peered around the corner of the bookcase and saw Hermione Granger bent over a book. A pile of other books was standing next to her, and her hand with a quill rested on a leaf of parchment next to the book she was reading. It didn't really surprise Remus that she was alone.
He thought for a moment, then took both the books and walked towards her. She only looked up when he laid the books on the table.
"Goodafternoon."
"Hi, professor," she said with a smile. It would have been a nice smile were it not for the bags under her eyes that made her look as tired and sick as Remus. "I didn't expect to see you here."
"Oh, I'm just doing, you know, some research," he said, sitting down. "And for research, what better place is there than Hogwarts Library?"
"Herbology?" she said, looking at the books. "But I thought your subject was Defence Against the Dark Arts?"
"Well, it never hurts to expand your knowledge," he said vaguely. "What are you doing?" It was a cheap trick to turn her attention onto something else, but it worked.
"Oh, Arithmancy. We just learned how to define someone's character with the numerological meaning of the name." She was getting enthusiastic and was gesturing with her hand to emphasise her words. "I tried some people and it really works. It's fascinating!"
"Really? Who did you do?" He leaned forward. Arithmancy was one of his favourite subjects too, and this part, he remembered, was particularly fun.
"Harry and Ron and professor Dumbledore." She held out several sheets of parchment with diagrams and calculations on it. "They really fit, especially when you know someone's full name."
"And what is your description of Dumbledore, to name one?" he asked. It looked as if someone had never done her a greater pleasure.
"Well, I knew his name is Albus Dumbledore, so in numbers that's 13231 4342354695. You have to calculate three things, the character number, the heart number, and the body number, in Dumbledore´s case 1, 5 and 5. The 1 globally describes his character." She checked her book. "One is the number of the individual. Ones are independent, concentrated, purposeful and determined. They have a goal and go for it. They are leaders and inventors. Ones find it hard to work together and don't like to take orders. They can be selfish, egocentric and bossy. They are often very timid, lonely." She looked at Remus. "Is this right?"
"From what I've seen, it is. Except maybe the selfish part. What else is there?"
"We got the heart number," she continued. "That describes his inner life, what is hidden for others. That was a five, so let's see… five, the number of instability and unbalance. It points at change and insecurity." She frowned. "That's not Dumbledore. They are adventurous and like to take risks. They like to travel and meeting other people, but won't stay long on the same place. Fives can be vain, irresponsible, rash and impatient." Hermione looked up again. "That's also his body number, which describes how he is on the outside. Is that really how professor Dumbledore is?"
"That's can't be right," Remus frowned. They had completely forgotten that he was the teacher and she the student, engrossed as they both were in solving this puzzle. "Do someone else."
"I can do you," she suggested, timidly. "But I don't know your first name."
"It's Remus, Remus Lupin," he said without considering. He watched her write it down and calculate the right numbers. "You have an interesting name, professor," she said conversationally. "Remus, Romulus, the founders of Rome."
"My parents are mythology fanatics," he explained. "What numbers did you get?"
"Remus Lupin makes 95431 33795, character 4, heart 2 and body 2. Uhm…" She nervously leafed through her book. "That is… four indicates stability and modesty. You like hard work and you are practical, reliable and down-to-earth. You like reason above fantasy. The four is good at organising and getting things done. You are as predicable as the four seasons." She looked shyly at him, smiling. "Sorry, but that's what it says. You can be headstrong, suspicious, too practical, and can be prone to have tempers. The conflicts that appear with the two are twice as strong in the four."
"Are you sure you have the right book?" he wondered. "That doesn't sound like me at all!"
"Well, let's see what your heart number says. It's two… indicates interaction, coöperation and balance. You have fantasy – so both reason and fantasy? You are creative and friendly. Peace, harmony, dedication, loyalty and honesty are typical for a two. But the two also stands for arguments, opposite forces and the contrasting side of things: day and night, good and evil – "
Sun and moon, man and wolf, he added mentally.
"Two's can be retiring, moody, shy and irresolute." She looked at him again. "Is that more like you?"
"Indeed, much more than the four."
"Well, then it must please you that both your heart and your body number is a two, so you're like that on the inside and on the outside."
"Good. Have you ever tried – "He had wanted to ask if she had ever tried to calculate her own character, but was cut off by the ringing of a bell, indicating that this lesson was over and that the next was starting. "I have to go," he said, picking up his books. "Sorry. It was very nice, talking with you. If you ever want to, you know, discuss Arithmancy with someone else than your classmates or professor Vector, don't hesitate to ask me."
"Thank you, professor. It's been really fascinating," she said. "Good luck with your next lessons."
"Yes, you too." He smiled at her and left the library, the books about Herbology under his arm.
~*~
When she was sure he'd left, Hermione took another sheet of parchment from under her Potions book. It was a neatly made list, hardly distinguishable from her other notes, except that this was a checklist. She quickly read what she'd written.
Absent when it's full moon.
Boggart changed into the moon.
Eyebrows are grown together.
Gets potion from Snape???
Hermione took her quill and added yellow eyes and hair on his hands to the list. For a moment, she seemed to think about something, then she also wrote pointy ears on the leaf of parchment. She neatly folded it and put it back in her Potions book – she was pretty sure that was the last place someone would look for it.
She picked up her quill again and continued her homework.
