Remus Lupin entered the clinic with some trepidation, not knowing if either of the Doctors Granger would remember his name as one of the professors -- albeit past professor, now -- at Hogwarts. Of if even knowing that, they would relent to seeing him without fussing about appointments. But then he caught sight of a thatch of bushy brown hair and his worry was set aside. Only to re-emerge for a different reason. Hermoine was sitting at the receptionist's desk, eyes glued to a book laying open in front of her.
Lupin moved forward and cleared his throat causing the girl to look up with an expression that was at once startled and embarrassed. She recognized him at once, however, and a smile blossomed that made her fairly glow with pleasure. "Professor!" Her eyes widened as some awful thought occurred to her. "Is Harry all right?"
"Yes, Harry is fine. He's visiting with the Weasleys now."
"Oh! Yes, I read about the attack on the "Burrow" in the Daily Prophet." Her voice dropped even though there were no patients waiting. "It was Death Eaters, wasn't it?"
Lupin nodded. "But they're staying somewhere safe, now, Hermoine." Without preamble he changed the subject. "I am here to speak with your parents, if I might."
Hermoine blinked at the sudden change in topic. Her mind running at light speed as always, though she didn't have much information to work with yet. "Mum's with a patient, but Dad is free." She hesitated and made a gamble. "I didn't know wizards went to Muggle dentists, professor."
The werewolf smiled, knowing her game. "They don't, Hermoine. This is a special matter." He let the smile waver and fall away to his most serious look. "It's very important."
"I'll get him, sir." She slid out of the chair and hurried into the back office. Very quickly, she returned with a tall, athletically built man who looked to be slightly older that Remus. Like his daughter, he had thick brown hair and eyes full of curiosity.
"Professor Lupin, is it?"
Remus shook his head. "Just Lupin, sir. I am no longer teaching at Hogwarts."
"Yes, I recall... But Hermoine assured me your classes were well worth taking. We were, of course, pleased with her grades. But she says you are here for another reason. She seems to think it somewhat urgent." He cast a look at his daughter, who nodded firmly as if in answer to an unasked question.
Remus took a deep breath. No help for it now. Muggles were involved. But as it was Muggles who often bore some of the Dark Lord's most horrific actions, it really could not have ever been said that they had never not been involved. "I don't know how much you know about Lord Voldemort--"
"Enough, Mr Lupin. I'd say we know enough. No doubt more than most other Muggles." He smirked at the younger man's look of surprise. "Our daughter is a witch going to school to learn to use her talents. Of course we know what's going on. We know about young Mr Diggory, about the whole Triwizard Competition fiasco. If you've come for some kind of help, then you should know we'd give it. Your world is no more safe than mine, sir. I'd like to change that."
Lupin clutched the folder under his arm tightly. "What do you know about the Order--"
"--of the Phoenix. Headmaster Dumbledore's group. Only what Hermoine has told us. If there were things she wasn't meant to speak about then be assured she did not speak of them. We raised our daughter to keep her word."
"I see." Was it really going to be this easy? Just then the front door opened and a young woman in cut off jeans and a tight, short sleeve T-shirt entered. Dragging along with her were two young children, no more than four or five years of age. She looked around with the unfamiliarity of someone for whom this was a first visit.
"We've got an appointment with the lady dentist," she said with the bravado of someone who was quite nervous.
"Dr Granger will be with you in a moment, she is with someone at present but should not be much longer," the male Dr Granger replied. "Hermoine will take care of you." Hermoine scowled at her father, but turned charming when she brought over a clipboard and pen to the very young mother. "Mr Lupin, if you would come this way..." He led his guest to the more private area of his office.
"So, what is it you wizards need of a Muggle dentist then?" He asked once the door had closed behind them.
"I'm afraid it's nothing to do with dentistry. Rather, it's your closeness to being healers as well as that you are Hermoine's parents." Remus trailed off, not quite certain how to explain the Order's predicament. "If you could take a look at these," he held out the folder. "Our healer hasn't much experience with Muggle po-- erm I mean drugs -- and we need to know what these things are. The ones marked in green ink, especially."
The man accepted the folder, and slipping on a pair of glasses, scanned the pages quickly first. Then more carefully, flipping back and forth humming the occasional growl of immersed thought, while his guest waited with ill hidden tension.
"Sedatives, a muscle relaxer, some common enough psychotropics. What is this about?"
"One of our colleagues went missing over the summer. We located him two days ago in a mental insititution. This is the file they gave us."
"Gave you?" The dentist's interest was clearly piqued.
"Erm... yes. Well, they thought he was being transferred, didn't they."
Dr Granger's left eyebrow arched upwards. "Quite. So, what is the problem?"
"Our colleague is... unwell."
The left eyebrow arched again and Remus took it as a sign to explain this perhaps somewhat cryptic seeming statement. "That is, he's all but lifeless. He is, you see, a Pureblood; they don't necessarily react to Muggle, er, drugs as the rest of us would. But we aren't certain that perhaps his reaction is normal for whatever they were giving him. If that's so, we'd like to know how long before these drugs cease being effective."
"By 'lifeless' I take you to mean he is unconscious?"
"No. More like ... he doesn't seem to be aware of anything or anyone most of the time. Ah, and he has a fever that is proving recalcitrant to treatment."
None of the notations here mention adverse reactions to any of these drugs. Indeed, it seems he was brought in ... ah, here., catatonic." Granger looked up. "Do you know what that means?"
Lupin shook his head, 'no.'
"I think it may fit your description of lifeless... although, hmph, he had a number of violent episodes and had to be forcibly restrained... I don't recognize this drug..." The mystery had him now, Granger slid into the seat behind his desk and tapped on the keyboard laying there. "Do you know what a computer is, Mr Lupin?"
Remus gave a small, rueful smile. "Yes, but not how to use one. I am part Muggle, but most of my life has been spent in the wizard world."
"Well, watch and learn, Mr Lupin. We are going to do a little reseach. Pull up a chair..."
Half an hour later, they were still at it when a soft tap brought the two men back to earth. "Dad?" Hermoine called from the other side of the door, "Mrs. Abernathy is here."
"Oh! Quite right! Fifteen minutes love. Tell her I'm with an emergency and I will be just another fifteen minutes."
A sigh. Then. "Okay, but it is Mrs Abernathy." Meaningfully.
Granger bark a short laugh. "Do her good to sit a bit. Give her the Dog Fancier magazine we just got in." He looked over at the wizard. "Nothing so far that should account for your man's catatonia, that I can see. But look, he might well have been given something not in this report by whomever had him earlier. The date of his admission does not coincide with his dropping out of sight."
"So none of this may be responsible?" Remus sighed, sounding much like a deflated tire slowly losing its air.
"A blood test could prove helpful."
"What?"
Granger stared thoughtfully at Remus then shook his head. "I rather doubt any of you lot know how to take a blood sample. Give me an address and I'll stop by later--"
"It's not possible. I mean I can't. I mean... The place where we are staying is warded. You'd never find it..." Remus scowled. "I can, however, take you there."
"Good enough, Mr Lupin..."
--
The woman who strode into The Leaky Cauldron was not a witch. But neither did she seem entirely out of place although it shocked everyone who heard when she calmly ordered a butterbeer. She took her drink and paused, looking around until she spied Alastor Moody sitting in a forlorn corner, his back against the wall. She smirked unsurprised at his choice of location. No longer hesitant, she picked her way over and sat down at the other empty chair. "Alastor," she greeted, lifting her mug in a salute.
"Margaret Alice." he returned the greeting with equal aplomb. "How are you doing these days?"
"I'm well. I still take the Daily Prophet. Interesting reading at times."
Moody snorted derisively.
"They seem a tad wary of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." She politely did not say the name out loud, mindful of the superstitious wizards' sensitivities. "At least your Ministry admits he's back. Ours says nothing. Surely they must know."
The older wizard shrugged. "Who can say? I'm not exactly privy to the dealings between our Minister of Magic and your Prime Minister." he gave her a hard look. "Is that why you contacted me? I can't give you any reassurances, girl. I've retired."
"Retired? You? I would not have thought it. But surely you are involved in the fight, at least as a consultant!
"Alas, only as a consultant. Although they've a foolish tendency to ignore my advice."
" 'Constant vigilence?' " she quoted with a smile. "Eric would often repeat that phrase and always ascribed it to you."
"Good man, he was too. One of the best I've ever worked with. I'd wish he were here now. But he isn't and you should be getting on with your own life."
"I am! I have been! But we Muggles are part of this. That man wants to kill us all! How can you sit there and ask me to pretend there's nothing to worry about? I want to help."
"I know you do, Margaret Alice and you are a fine woman to make this offer... But we have healers enough for now. The War hasn't gotten that far out of hand. With luck, it won't. But that depends on others, not you or me, I'm afraid." The ragged old man looked even more disgruntled and a gloomy shadow passed over his face. "You and I, we are at best pawns, at worst victims."
She held back. It was Alastor who had let slip that the boy would not be given the Dementor's Kiss all those years ago; Alastor who had let slip that the man was teaching -- teaching! at Hogwarts. But he had never been one of her closer friends or confident. She held back and only sighed in defeat. "It's not fair that your people have to do all the work of protecting us."
The old man grunted. "He's ours and so our responsibility to deal with him." He drained the last of his firewhiskey and stood, looking at the door with his mad eye. "I see your friends are coming now. Wish them a good day for me."
"You won't stay?"
"No, I've got errands to run." He patted her arm. "You be good."
He left via the back way.
Three wizards and a witch got drinks from the bar and then collected at a table already occupied by a Muggle dressed woman with short blond hair and a scowl.
"So. You've lost the Pureblood." The witch whispered in a disgruntled tone...