Pure and Simple
Harry
The door of The Three Broomsticks swung open and the three figures fell inside, laughing at their own daring. It was about six in the afternoon and usually they would have been the only ones inside the pub, however it was deep into winter already and now the shops had begun to close and the light to fade the room was filling rapidly so that it was with another shout of triumph that the dark haired boy spotted a free table and wove his way towards it, the others following.
They sat; Ron and Hermione perhaps a little closer together than was strictly in the interest of symmetry and Harry, slightly further away and, having noticed this, containing a smile.
"I'll get the drinks, shall I?" Ron ventured but Hermione had been prepared for just such an eventuality and was already back on her feet. She shot a steely, knowing gaze at curvy Madam Rosmerta and one at her boyfriend whose ears were gradually tingeing the colour of sunset. "I'll go," she declared and turned her glare onto Harry, who had concluded it was better to laugh after all.
They watched her disappear off towards the bar before Ron decided it was OK to kick his best friend who had collapsed into giggles. "Stop it," he hissed. "What's so funny?" Harry laughed harder and tried to explain exactly what was so funny, managing to produce the words "you" and "Hermione" but little else that was understandable except for a loud "ouch!" as Ron kicked him again.
"Git," Harry said, fondly. "I don't know why she puts up with you."
Ron's expression went rather gooey. "I'm glad she does."
"Yes, so am I."
They watched Hermione collect three bottles of butterbeer from the bar and start making her way back towards the table.
"It's a bit late for you three to be out in Hogsmeade, isn't it?" a dry, slightly amused voice, commented from somewhere behind Harry. He jumped, they were not supposed to be out at all, and turned around as Professor Lupin slid into the chair next to him. "But then it's not even a Hogsmeade visitation day so the lateness of the hour is hardly the biggest issue here," Lupin continued, a smile washing over his face. "How are you?"
Across the table Harry could see Ron reddening as Lupin grinned at them and knew that he too was blushing; to be caught by a teacher, even a former teacher, visiting Hogsmeade illegally, could not be good. "Erm… fine," he managed. "How're you?"
Lupin's teeth flashed the candle light. "Not too bad-"
He was interrupted by a soft, half yelp. "Professor Lupin?" asked an astonished Hermione. "What are you doing here?" Then she seemed to remember this was rather rude and tried to change it into "I mean, how nice to see you again." She, too, was blushing furiously as she set the bottles down on the table and Harry suspected that even if Lupin hadn't already known they weren't supposed to be out, he would by now.
"I was invited by Professor Dumbledore," Lupin informed them. "Why are you here?"
"Doctors," Ron said just as Harry said "Crookshanks."
Lupin raised an amused eyebrow.
"Crookshanks is ill," Harry confirmed hopefully. "We, er, wanted a second opinion… I mean, he might be really sick."
"Yer and that would be terrible," Ron drawled.
Lupin laughed. "Nice try. However," he turned to Hermione, "if you have any problems with your cat in the future, I'm sure Hagrid will be able to tend to it far better than anyone in the village so I wouldn't bother sneaking out of school again. Are you going to tell me why you're really here or am I going to have to guess, which judging from the number of scents I recognise coming from the shopping bag next to Harry's feet, will be embarrassing for you, but not overly taxing for me."
He fixed Hermione with an expression that was, apparently, only mildly curious and she crumpled; it had been difficult enough to convince her that using the passage into Honeydukes would be a good, if not necessary use of this evening. It was either that, Harry had declared, or stealing from Snape again and eventually Hermione had decided that leaving the school when they were not supposed to was better than outright theft and they had gathered under the invisibility cloak, Ron, now a good six foot tall, crouching in order to stop his feet showing, and headed towards the statue of the one eyed witch. Once in Hogsmeade they had purchased the ingredients they had come for and that Lupin had smelt, quickly, before the shops closed and without being seen by anyone who might have reported them before stopping in The Three Broomsticks. They had been so close.
"Sorry," Hermione mumbled, and as if reading Harry's thoughts Lupin started laughing. "Don't worry I won't turn you in; I'm not that much of a hypocrite, however," he paused, "as your friend and former teacher I must advise you that if you're doing what I think you're doing, it is both very dangerous and extremely foolish."
"But-" Harry began.
"There are no buts, Harry," Lupin interrupted. "If I had thought about -" he stopped and apparently decided to change his argument. "It's not worth it; it's also highly illegal." He seemed to be directing this comment at Hermione, the sensible one, but ironically, Harry thought, this was only because he didn't know it had been her idea in the first place. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid."
Lupin was now staring at each of them seriously as if daring them to deny his allegations; Harry met his gaze uneasily.
"So, why did Dumbledore invite you here?" he asked.
"You're changing the subject," Lupin insisted, a spark of his previous amusement edging round the words. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid."
"We won't do anything stupid," Hermione assured him.
The atmosphere relaxed and Ron reached for his butterbeer. "So why are you here? Is it ok to tell us?" he asked, trying to sound nonchalant. "Is it for the Order?"
Lupin leaned back in his chair and glanced around quickly at the other patrons of the bar to check they were being sufficiently noisy to cover the sound of his words. "I'm here on business," he said eventually. "Being what I am, there are certain people who believe I am… more susceptible to certain influences than normal people," he paused. "Professor Dumbledore has suggested, and I agree with him, that we should play on this prejudice and so a meeting has been arranged between myself and a certain person who may be able to get me further inside but I'm not going to tell you any more, understand?"
"What if this person wants to kill you?" Ron replied. He looked eager but slightly worried; apparently he had managed to forget about the threat from outside in the run up to Christmas.
"He probably does," Lupin answered, wearily. "Contrary to popular belief the Dark Lord's followers are no more open-minded about my kind than the average witch or wizard… less so perhaps. However, he will not try to kill me until I have been brought before his master; after all, if I really was willing to spy for Him I am sure I would prove invaluable."
"But you're not, are you?" Hermione asked anxiously.
Lupin laughed. "Merlin no." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "But then, if I was, I would hardly tell you." He withdrew a piece of parchment that looked oddly familiar from one of his pockets, surveyed it briefly and replaced it. "They're late," he announce. "You should be safe for a few more minutes."
"They?" Harry asked curiously. "I thought you said Professor Dumbledore-"
"-Had invited me, yes he has but he's not the only one I need to talk to about this. Professors Snape and August should be arriving with him."
Professor August was their new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. He was tall, dark and spoke briefly, as if conserving all his words for a time when he might actually need them. His hands though, were the main source of interest among the student body, for they were covered in tattooed dragon scales. Rumour had spread like wildfire through the school: Professor August was a dragon animagus! But eventually Dumbledore had gotten heed of these rumours and quashed them with a laugh; the tattoos were apparently purely decorative. He did seem to know a lot about the Dark Arts though and Hermione said she found him very educational, even if she was the only one who considered this a benefit. "Is he a former Death Eater too?" Ron asked excitedly.
"Hardly; he's an auror."
"Auror?" questioned Hermione. "I thought he was only a professor."
Lupin turned to look at her. "Well," he said carefully; barely concealing another smile, "he's not; he's also an auror."
Hermione flushed again and muttered something about none of the Defence teachers being what they seemed and couldn't one of them at least just be a teacher, would that be too much?
"In times like these nobody can be what they seem," Lupin assured her sagely. "The truth is a terrible weapon, Hermione and one we will try and conceal from our enemies for as long as possible. However, I'm sure the Headmaster will forgive me for disclosing some of it to you; especially beneath the muffling spell around this table"
"This is going to be dangerous, isn't it?" Harry blurted out.
His former teacher turned brown eyes onto him. "Yes," he said simply. "Yes, I believe this is the most dangerous thing I've ever done."
"Please don't die," Harry continued desperately.
Now why had he said that? He wasn't sure but he knew that it had been vital and that Lupin needed to know. "I mean don't – die, please."
But Lupin seemed to know what he was saying. "I'll be careful, Harry," he said gravely.
"Thank you, Professor."
Lupin waved it aside, "don't call me that," he murmured. "It makes me feel older than I am which is old enough and reminds me of things I've lost… You must have known me long enough for it to be Remus now." He smiled at each of them in turn, the smile of a favourite uncle, [Hermione nodded seriously and Ron looked pleased] before turning to Harry. "There was a time when you called me Moony- well, Moono but that's beside the point; I don't think Remus is too big a step forward."
"Would you prefer Moony?" Harry asked, feeling rather dislocated at the mention of life before the Dursleys; Remus remembered that life.
"No," Remus replied shortly. "I think I'd prefer it if you didn't." He removed the parchment from his pocket and spread it over the table this time so they could see it was a map, very like the Marauder's Map in Harry's pocket. This one, however, was missing two of the map makers who had created the original. "Ah, they're almost upon us," Remus commented, as he examined the map which showed Hogwarts and a large section of the surrounding area including the pub they were sitting in and three ink dots labelled Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape and Jonathan August moving rapidly towards it. "You'd better leave before they get here," he declared, depositing the map back in his pocket. "And avoid the main road; if I remember correctly Dumbledore, at least, is not fooled by invisibility cloaks." He smiled wryly. "Something that proved to be extremely annoying even if he did find most of Sirius and James' pranks immensely amusing and let us off a lot of the time."
Harry thanked him and the three of them started pulling on their winter cloaks as fast as possible. He opened his mouth to say something else but Remus nodded and repeated: "I'll be careful. Now, unless you want to be cleaning portrait frames for the next week, I suggest you leave quickly; I've spent better evenings than that even after James enchanted them to sing Oklahoma for us." He glanced at the map again. "Go!"
They ran; out through the door and into the street where it was starting to snow. "Very romantic," Harry commented slyly and dodged the snowball that should have come from Ron and left him completely unprepared for the one hurled at him by Hermione. Spluttering snow Harry darted sideways off the high street after Ron who had already retreated there. They were in time to see the three professors arriving: Professor August clad in a long maroon cloak, Snape in a long Black one and Professor Dumbledore in midnight blue, patterned with constellations that twinkled and wearing earmuffs of the same shade. August and Snape moved quickly into the pub, Dumbledore following them after a quick glance at the hedge in which Harry, Hermione and Ron where hiding and a slight smile. The door closed behind them and Ron hissed: "is there nothing that man doesn't see? It's downright scary."
More practically Hermione said: "Let's go; it's cold" and they trudged back up towards the castle through the falling snow.
"Do you think Lupe- sorry, Remus, really knows what we're up to?" Ron asked after they had walked a little way.
"Probably," Harry decided. "I mean, he would, wouldn't he? Knows all about it."
Ron made a non-committal noise.
"He won't tell Dumbledore, will he?" Hermione asked anxiously and Harry had the peculiar sensation that they were actively seeking his opinion, as if he might know what Remus would do.
"I don't think so."
He lapsed into silence. Whatever Remus was about to do was going to be more dangerous than anything he'd ever done before; more dangerous than his monthly transformations, more dangerous than infiltrating the Department of Mysteries last summer.
Both of the others seemed to be thinking the same thing as he was; however careful Remus was it was very possible he would not return from this trip. They said nothing.
"So what do we do now?" asked Harry in a timid voice, breaking the silence. "I mean… you heard what Remus said… maybe we can't-"
"We can," Hermione insisted. "And it'll be really useful for our exams although I still think we should ask McGonagall for help."
Neither of the boys said anything, Harry shifted the heavy bag of potion ingredients from his right hand to his left. They would not be asking McGonagall and Hermione knew this.
"Why do you think he didn't want to be called Moony?" Ron asked suddenly, obviously the question had been bothering him. It had been bothering Harry too but there were more important things to worry about.
"Isn't it obvious?" Hermione asked, in the voice that she used when they asked why a particular potion was purple and not orange or why Cho Chang had started crying when Harry kissed her. Each time she said it Harry felt like pointing out that no, it wasn't obvious or they wouldn't have asked it, but he had once and Hermione had told him it was a rhetorical question which hadn't really made things any clearer and he'd abandoned it.
Harry and Ron dutifully shook their heads; no it wasn't obvious.
Hermione's face had closed up slightly. "It's because everyone who ever called him that is dead," she said simply.
"Oh," Ron managed.
They continued up towards the castle.