In his office, Remus stood by the window. That morning he'd taken the
delivery of a grindylow for his class, and he'd been pondering just how to
introduce the new subject. He was confident they'd do well. After the
boggart, things in his class were on the smooth and steady side. He also
noted with pleasure that Neville Longbottom was just the slightest bit more
confident in class.
He'd even spoken of this two evenings ago to Poppy. They'd been having one of their quiet afternoon teas and the subject had come up. Though, he knew Poppy well enough to know she'd been meaning to ask about it all along. She seemed to be worrying a little about something. What it was, he didn't know because she'd never told him.
Thinking of their last meeting, he rose and moved towards his desk where the grindylow floated inside a large tank. It wasn't anything to look at. The creature was a sickly green color, had spindly fingers, and sharp horns. Indeed, not anything to look at. With a tiny smile, he wondered what the class would make of it. Soon he found himself wishing it was a weekday and not the weekend. Remus wanted to see his students' faces when he presented their new subject of study.
These thoughts were soon driven away when he noticed a familiar figure walking by his door. Remus left his desk and moved to stand just inside the doorframe to call to the figure. Harry was trudging along down the corridor quietly, his eyes on the floor. Why was he meandering about alone? "Harry?" Remus called, effectively stopping the boy's progress down the corridor. Harry glanced, doubling back to face him. "What are you doing?" His brow furrowed concernedly, "Where are Ron and Hermione?"
Harry looked at him and almost shrugged. "Hogsmeade," Harry said in a would- be nonchalant sort of voice. Now he understood. "Ah," Remus responded, considering the boy a moment. "Why don't you come in? I've just taken delivery of a grindylow for our next lesson." He offered, a kindly smile on his face. Perhaps even a cup of tea was in order.
Harry stared back at him, his eyes holding a confused look. "A what?" He asked, as if he'd heard Remus wrong. Remus, however, gestured him inside and indicated the tank where the grindylow was currently pulling faces, which made the creature even more hideous than it already was.
"Water demon," Remus told him, observing the creature with a thoughtful expression. "We shouldn't have much difficulty with him, not after the kappas. The trick is to break his grip." He then pointed out the grindylow's spindly fingers, giving Harry a professorial glance. "You notice the abnormally long fingers? Strong, but very brittle."
As if the creature could understand what Remus was saying, it bared it's teeth at them and hastened to bury itself in the tangle of weeds in the corner of the tank. The effect was slightly comical to Remus, whose lip curled up into a small smile.
Harry glanced up then at Remus. "Cup of tea?" Remus asked as he glanced about for a kettle. "I was just thinking of making one."
"All right," said Harry a bit awkwardly. He could tell Harry didn't know what to make of him yet. He seemed oddly wary.
Remus found the kettle and tapped it with his wand, from which a blast of steam issued from the spout. "Sit down," Remus gestured and took the top off the lid. "I've only got teabags, I'm afraid, but I daresay you've had enough of tea leaves?" Remus remarked conversationally, thinking of what Minerva had told him about Sibyll's death predictions for Harry. He truly wished she would find a new hobby. There was no need to create more neuroses than there already were here in Hogwarts.
Surprised, Harry looked at him. "How did you know about that?" He asked. Remus smiled a little, his eyes twinkling. "Professor McGonagall told me," Remus responded, passing to Harry a slightly chipped mug of tea. "You're not worried are you?" He asked the young boy concernedly. He wouldn't blame Harry if he were.
"No," Harry answered. Remus of course didn't necessarily buy that. He could tell something was worrying Harry, but of course he knew not what it was. "Anything worrying you, Harry?" He asked, his eyes gazing levelly at Harry.
"No," was the boy's reply as he sipped his tea and spared a glance at the grindylow, which just happened to be brandishing a fist at him in the tank. "Yes," Harry said suddenly as he set down his tea on Remus' desk. "You know that day we fought the boggart?" Harry asked of him.
Ah, I should have known, he thought to himself. "Yes," Remus answered slowly. Harry turned those green eyes on him that were more than a little curious. "Why didn't you let me fight it?" He asked abruptly.
Remus raised his eyebrows, "I should have thought that was obvious, Harry." His voice sounded a little surprised at the question. "Why?" Harry asked again, taken aback. Clearly he had been expecting Remus to deny any such thing. "Well," Remus frowned slightly, "I had assumed that if the boggart faced you, it would have assumed the shape of Lord Voldemort."
Clearly, this was not the answer that Harry had been expecting, as he was staring at Remus with a trace of wonder. Or, perhaps it was because he'd said Voldemort's name. Maybe it was a little of both, Remus thought.
"Clearly I was wrong," Remus continued, the frown still in place, "but I didn't think it a good idea for Lord Voldemort to materialize in the staff room. I imagined that people would panic." He concluded, logically.
"I didn't think of Voldemort," Harry put forth honestly. "I – I remembered those dementors."
Poppy wouldn't be pleased to hear of that. Just the other day she'd had a long rant about them. No, it would not do for her to know that. "I see," he murmured thoughtfully. "Well, well... I'm impressed." He smiled and mastered the impulse to chuckle at the look of surprise on Harry's face. "That suggests that what you fear most of all is – fear. Very wise, Harry."
Apparently, the poor boy didn't know what to make of that statement. He glanced down and drank some more of his tea, quietly. Remus, of course, could gather just a little of what might have been running through Harry's mind at that moment. "So you've been thinking that I didn't believe you capable of fighting the boggart?" Remus asked shrewdly, narrowing his eyes just a little as he gazed upon Harry.
"Well... yeah," said Harry, who suddenly looked a little happier." Professor Lupin, you know the dementors – " He made to ask, but whatever it was that he'd been about to ask was lost on his lips as there came a knock at the door.
Sitting back and glancing at the door, Remus called, "Come in," having an idea just who it might be. A moment later, Severus entered the room with a goblet that was barely smoking, in hand. He stopped at the sight of Harry, his dark cold black eyes narrowing.
"Ah, Severus," said Remus smiling. "Thank you very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?" He politely requested, trying not to focus on the look Severus was giving him. Without comment, Severus set down the goblet in the place indicated and looked from Harry to Remus.
"I was just showing Harry my grindylow," Remus explained pleasantly, indicating the tank. "Fascinating," responded Severus without so much as glancing in the direction. "You should drink that directly, Lupin." He practically ordered in his cold quiet voice.
Still smiling pleasantly, Remus nodded his head. "Yes, yes, I will." He replied. Severus' expression didn't change one iota. "I made an entire cauldronful," continued Severus, "if you need more."
Remus nodded, barely catching Harry's glance at the two of them out of his corner of his eye. He could tell this whole exchange puzzled the boy. "I should probably take some again tomorrow. Thank you once again, Severus." Remus thanked him. "Not at all," Severus responded and left the room with a watchful sort of expression. Turning back to Harry however, Remus noted his curious and cautious look at the goblet on the desk.
"Professor Snape has very kindly concocted a potion for me." Remus explained, answering Harry's unspoken question. "I've never been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly complex." He commented, taking up the goblet and sniffing the brew a little. "Pity sugar makes it useless," he added, taking a small sip, only to shudder. It really was a foul tasting potion. It would have to be, wouldn't it?
Harry looked confused. "Why–?" The young boy began. Remus' eyes flickered to catch his. "I've been feeling a bit off-color," he answered Harry's unfinished question. "This potion is the only thing that helps. I am very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren't many wizards that are up to making it." He went on to explain to the boy. He took another sip and wondered why it looked like he hadn't even drunk any.
"Professor Snape's very interested in the Dark Arts." Harry blurted out, looking like he wanted to knock the goblet out of Remus' hands, which at this point he wondered if he should let the boy. It really did taste awful. "Really?" Remus responded, taking a deeper gulp this time of the potion.
"Some people reckon– " Harry hesitated and then plunged on with his sentence. "Some people reckon he'd do anything to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts job."
That would do. Remus drained the goblet and pulled a face. "Disgusting," he said, fully thankful that he needn't drink anymore for the moment. "Well, Harry, I'd better get back to work. I'll see you at the feast later."
"Right," Harry responded, setting down his own empty tea cup on the desk. He rose and left the room with the appropriate and polite thanks and went off down the corridor, most likely back to Gryffindor Tower, Remus assumed.
Sitting back down at his chair, he stared at the goblet that was still smoking. He thought on what Harry had said. Of course he already knew of Severus' fascination with the Dark Arts. It had always been apparent when they were in school together. It hadn't helped that James and Sirius had always antagonized him, even if some of the time it was done in self- defense.
As he thought about it, he remembered one very specific night. A night in which, if it hadn't had been for James coming through in the end, his own hands would have been stained with Severus' blood. He'd been led to the Whomping Willow earlier that evening for his transformation. At that time, there had been no Wolfsbane potion for him. He'd had to go though the experience with the mind of a wolf, whereas now, he could keep his mind in his transformation, thanks to the potion.
That evening, when he was preparing himself for the pain and the horror of his other aspect, unbeknownst to him was the fact that Sirius had decided to play a little prank on Severus. He'd told Severus, who had always been very curious of Remus' mysterious comings and goings, that if he would but touch the tiny knot on the tree, he'd find what he was looking for.
Of course, Severus had done precisely that. He'd gone and would have found a fully transformed Remus on the other end had it not been for James' coming and pulling Severus away from the scene. Severus' loathing for him and his friends had increased a great deal, as he well realized he'd almost been sent to his death by way of cruel joke. Remus, of course, didn't blame Severus for that, even if it had been nosy on his part to try and discover Remus' secret.
No, the person he was most angry at was Sirius. He'd been used cruelly. He could have murdered Severus in his wolf form and not even known of it until the next day when he either would have been sent to Azkaban or dealt with by the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures. Even now, he was angry. Not only because of that. How could Sirius have been so reckless and so careless? First he'd almost betrayed Remus, and then it was Lily and James. What in Merlin's name could have made him do that? Remus sighed and tried to push away these thoughts. It would not do to dwell on them. The past is past, and he needed to be strong and focus on the here and now. He would need to be on his guard even more so now, since it was obvious he couldn't trust Severus, not that he ever could have in the first place. He also had Harry to think about now. He was wanted by Sirius, and it need not be said that everyone was overly protective of the boy.
Suddenly, a vision of Poppy entered his mind. He saw her as he had that evening a while ago, and suddenly wondered if this was what she'd been worrying about. The only way to know was to ask her, and he would. Indeed, he wanted to see her in any case. She was the only one he could really talk to.
"If only..."
He'd even spoken of this two evenings ago to Poppy. They'd been having one of their quiet afternoon teas and the subject had come up. Though, he knew Poppy well enough to know she'd been meaning to ask about it all along. She seemed to be worrying a little about something. What it was, he didn't know because she'd never told him.
Thinking of their last meeting, he rose and moved towards his desk where the grindylow floated inside a large tank. It wasn't anything to look at. The creature was a sickly green color, had spindly fingers, and sharp horns. Indeed, not anything to look at. With a tiny smile, he wondered what the class would make of it. Soon he found himself wishing it was a weekday and not the weekend. Remus wanted to see his students' faces when he presented their new subject of study.
These thoughts were soon driven away when he noticed a familiar figure walking by his door. Remus left his desk and moved to stand just inside the doorframe to call to the figure. Harry was trudging along down the corridor quietly, his eyes on the floor. Why was he meandering about alone? "Harry?" Remus called, effectively stopping the boy's progress down the corridor. Harry glanced, doubling back to face him. "What are you doing?" His brow furrowed concernedly, "Where are Ron and Hermione?"
Harry looked at him and almost shrugged. "Hogsmeade," Harry said in a would- be nonchalant sort of voice. Now he understood. "Ah," Remus responded, considering the boy a moment. "Why don't you come in? I've just taken delivery of a grindylow for our next lesson." He offered, a kindly smile on his face. Perhaps even a cup of tea was in order.
Harry stared back at him, his eyes holding a confused look. "A what?" He asked, as if he'd heard Remus wrong. Remus, however, gestured him inside and indicated the tank where the grindylow was currently pulling faces, which made the creature even more hideous than it already was.
"Water demon," Remus told him, observing the creature with a thoughtful expression. "We shouldn't have much difficulty with him, not after the kappas. The trick is to break his grip." He then pointed out the grindylow's spindly fingers, giving Harry a professorial glance. "You notice the abnormally long fingers? Strong, but very brittle."
As if the creature could understand what Remus was saying, it bared it's teeth at them and hastened to bury itself in the tangle of weeds in the corner of the tank. The effect was slightly comical to Remus, whose lip curled up into a small smile.
Harry glanced up then at Remus. "Cup of tea?" Remus asked as he glanced about for a kettle. "I was just thinking of making one."
"All right," said Harry a bit awkwardly. He could tell Harry didn't know what to make of him yet. He seemed oddly wary.
Remus found the kettle and tapped it with his wand, from which a blast of steam issued from the spout. "Sit down," Remus gestured and took the top off the lid. "I've only got teabags, I'm afraid, but I daresay you've had enough of tea leaves?" Remus remarked conversationally, thinking of what Minerva had told him about Sibyll's death predictions for Harry. He truly wished she would find a new hobby. There was no need to create more neuroses than there already were here in Hogwarts.
Surprised, Harry looked at him. "How did you know about that?" He asked. Remus smiled a little, his eyes twinkling. "Professor McGonagall told me," Remus responded, passing to Harry a slightly chipped mug of tea. "You're not worried are you?" He asked the young boy concernedly. He wouldn't blame Harry if he were.
"No," Harry answered. Remus of course didn't necessarily buy that. He could tell something was worrying Harry, but of course he knew not what it was. "Anything worrying you, Harry?" He asked, his eyes gazing levelly at Harry.
"No," was the boy's reply as he sipped his tea and spared a glance at the grindylow, which just happened to be brandishing a fist at him in the tank. "Yes," Harry said suddenly as he set down his tea on Remus' desk. "You know that day we fought the boggart?" Harry asked of him.
Ah, I should have known, he thought to himself. "Yes," Remus answered slowly. Harry turned those green eyes on him that were more than a little curious. "Why didn't you let me fight it?" He asked abruptly.
Remus raised his eyebrows, "I should have thought that was obvious, Harry." His voice sounded a little surprised at the question. "Why?" Harry asked again, taken aback. Clearly he had been expecting Remus to deny any such thing. "Well," Remus frowned slightly, "I had assumed that if the boggart faced you, it would have assumed the shape of Lord Voldemort."
Clearly, this was not the answer that Harry had been expecting, as he was staring at Remus with a trace of wonder. Or, perhaps it was because he'd said Voldemort's name. Maybe it was a little of both, Remus thought.
"Clearly I was wrong," Remus continued, the frown still in place, "but I didn't think it a good idea for Lord Voldemort to materialize in the staff room. I imagined that people would panic." He concluded, logically.
"I didn't think of Voldemort," Harry put forth honestly. "I – I remembered those dementors."
Poppy wouldn't be pleased to hear of that. Just the other day she'd had a long rant about them. No, it would not do for her to know that. "I see," he murmured thoughtfully. "Well, well... I'm impressed." He smiled and mastered the impulse to chuckle at the look of surprise on Harry's face. "That suggests that what you fear most of all is – fear. Very wise, Harry."
Apparently, the poor boy didn't know what to make of that statement. He glanced down and drank some more of his tea, quietly. Remus, of course, could gather just a little of what might have been running through Harry's mind at that moment. "So you've been thinking that I didn't believe you capable of fighting the boggart?" Remus asked shrewdly, narrowing his eyes just a little as he gazed upon Harry.
"Well... yeah," said Harry, who suddenly looked a little happier." Professor Lupin, you know the dementors – " He made to ask, but whatever it was that he'd been about to ask was lost on his lips as there came a knock at the door.
Sitting back and glancing at the door, Remus called, "Come in," having an idea just who it might be. A moment later, Severus entered the room with a goblet that was barely smoking, in hand. He stopped at the sight of Harry, his dark cold black eyes narrowing.
"Ah, Severus," said Remus smiling. "Thank you very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?" He politely requested, trying not to focus on the look Severus was giving him. Without comment, Severus set down the goblet in the place indicated and looked from Harry to Remus.
"I was just showing Harry my grindylow," Remus explained pleasantly, indicating the tank. "Fascinating," responded Severus without so much as glancing in the direction. "You should drink that directly, Lupin." He practically ordered in his cold quiet voice.
Still smiling pleasantly, Remus nodded his head. "Yes, yes, I will." He replied. Severus' expression didn't change one iota. "I made an entire cauldronful," continued Severus, "if you need more."
Remus nodded, barely catching Harry's glance at the two of them out of his corner of his eye. He could tell this whole exchange puzzled the boy. "I should probably take some again tomorrow. Thank you once again, Severus." Remus thanked him. "Not at all," Severus responded and left the room with a watchful sort of expression. Turning back to Harry however, Remus noted his curious and cautious look at the goblet on the desk.
"Professor Snape has very kindly concocted a potion for me." Remus explained, answering Harry's unspoken question. "I've never been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly complex." He commented, taking up the goblet and sniffing the brew a little. "Pity sugar makes it useless," he added, taking a small sip, only to shudder. It really was a foul tasting potion. It would have to be, wouldn't it?
Harry looked confused. "Why–?" The young boy began. Remus' eyes flickered to catch his. "I've been feeling a bit off-color," he answered Harry's unfinished question. "This potion is the only thing that helps. I am very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren't many wizards that are up to making it." He went on to explain to the boy. He took another sip and wondered why it looked like he hadn't even drunk any.
"Professor Snape's very interested in the Dark Arts." Harry blurted out, looking like he wanted to knock the goblet out of Remus' hands, which at this point he wondered if he should let the boy. It really did taste awful. "Really?" Remus responded, taking a deeper gulp this time of the potion.
"Some people reckon– " Harry hesitated and then plunged on with his sentence. "Some people reckon he'd do anything to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts job."
That would do. Remus drained the goblet and pulled a face. "Disgusting," he said, fully thankful that he needn't drink anymore for the moment. "Well, Harry, I'd better get back to work. I'll see you at the feast later."
"Right," Harry responded, setting down his own empty tea cup on the desk. He rose and left the room with the appropriate and polite thanks and went off down the corridor, most likely back to Gryffindor Tower, Remus assumed.
Sitting back down at his chair, he stared at the goblet that was still smoking. He thought on what Harry had said. Of course he already knew of Severus' fascination with the Dark Arts. It had always been apparent when they were in school together. It hadn't helped that James and Sirius had always antagonized him, even if some of the time it was done in self- defense.
As he thought about it, he remembered one very specific night. A night in which, if it hadn't had been for James coming through in the end, his own hands would have been stained with Severus' blood. He'd been led to the Whomping Willow earlier that evening for his transformation. At that time, there had been no Wolfsbane potion for him. He'd had to go though the experience with the mind of a wolf, whereas now, he could keep his mind in his transformation, thanks to the potion.
That evening, when he was preparing himself for the pain and the horror of his other aspect, unbeknownst to him was the fact that Sirius had decided to play a little prank on Severus. He'd told Severus, who had always been very curious of Remus' mysterious comings and goings, that if he would but touch the tiny knot on the tree, he'd find what he was looking for.
Of course, Severus had done precisely that. He'd gone and would have found a fully transformed Remus on the other end had it not been for James' coming and pulling Severus away from the scene. Severus' loathing for him and his friends had increased a great deal, as he well realized he'd almost been sent to his death by way of cruel joke. Remus, of course, didn't blame Severus for that, even if it had been nosy on his part to try and discover Remus' secret.
No, the person he was most angry at was Sirius. He'd been used cruelly. He could have murdered Severus in his wolf form and not even known of it until the next day when he either would have been sent to Azkaban or dealt with by the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures. Even now, he was angry. Not only because of that. How could Sirius have been so reckless and so careless? First he'd almost betrayed Remus, and then it was Lily and James. What in Merlin's name could have made him do that? Remus sighed and tried to push away these thoughts. It would not do to dwell on them. The past is past, and he needed to be strong and focus on the here and now. He would need to be on his guard even more so now, since it was obvious he couldn't trust Severus, not that he ever could have in the first place. He also had Harry to think about now. He was wanted by Sirius, and it need not be said that everyone was overly protective of the boy.
Suddenly, a vision of Poppy entered his mind. He saw her as he had that evening a while ago, and suddenly wondered if this was what she'd been worrying about. The only way to know was to ask her, and he would. Indeed, he wanted to see her in any case. She was the only one he could really talk to.
"If only..."