When dawn finally broke, the pink light of early morning was completed obscured by thick black clouds. The rain, which had mercifully held off for yesterday's match, had returned with a vengeance soon after midnight. The wind had swept endless curtains of shimmering grey in from the west and battered the castle relentlessly, the thunderous noise echoing along the deserted corridors. Gutters were soon overflowing and several of the drainpipes had given way in the face of such an onslaught. Water fell in torrents from the rooftops, even after most of the rain had subsided.
It was the worst storm Minerva McGonagall had seen in a good few years. Unpleasant weather was of course to be expected given the northern location of the school, but even so it wasn't usually this bad. But given the circumstances it was strangely fitting: from the triumph of yesterday's Gryffindor victory to the disaster of last night's attack. It's as if the skies themselves are mocking us, Minerva thought bitterly. Mocking our utter failure to protect our students. It had been a long night and she was still reeling from the shock of discovering that Sirius Black had not only managed to make it into the castle unseen, but into Gryffindor Tower as well! It was only through sheer luck that they weren't mourning the death of Harry Potter this morning. The very thought of how close it had been made Minerva shudder.
Once she'd ensured that the password had been changed and her charges were safely protected once more, Minerva had gone to rouse the rest of the faculty so that they could instigate a full search of the castle. It hadn't taken long. Once Albus Dumbledore had been alerted he'd used a special Floo powder variant that sent noisy red sparks shooting from the fireplace of every staff member. One by one they'd convened in the Entrance Hall, all dressed hastily in whatever clothing had been closest to hand and looking as though they'd been in a fight with an enchanted wardrobe. It would have been amusing had it not been for the seriousness of the situation. Albus had invited Minerva to give her account of the events in Gryffindor Tower and then they'd divided up the areas to be searched. Minerva had been partnered with Sarah Vector and together they had spent the rest of the night silently scouring every inch of the East Wing for any sign of Sirius Black, checking every classroom, every corridor and every cupboard with their wands gripped tightly in their hands.
Finally the search had been called off. Sirius had somehow managed to escape again despite the teachers looking for him, despite the portraits, ghosts and house elves that had all been alerted and despite the Dementors ringing the castle. The Heads of the four Houses would be meeting with Albus later that morning to discuss what else – if anything - could be done. In the meantime Minerva had gone to find Remus, who had not yet returned from his assigned area: the cellars beneath the kitchens.
"Have you found him?"
There was a hopeful expression on Remus' face that matched the urgency in his tone. For a split second Minerva wished she were bringing him good news instead of bad. She shook her head and sat slowly down on a dusty crate, weary from spending virtually the entire night on her feet.
"No. Remus, he's long gone."
"We have to keep looking," Remus said desperately, upending another stack of boxes with a quick blast from his wand. "What if he's still here? He could be hiding somewhere. He knows the castle well."
"We've looked everywhere! For goodness sake, he's probably miles away by now. All we're doing is exhausting ourselves – which is probably what he wants!"
She saw his shoulders stiffen and regretted the harshness of her tone. "Come on, Remus," she said more gently. "Let's go and have some breakfast. It's been an awfully long night."
"No!"
The intensity in her partner's voice surprised Minerva, accustomed as she was to the calm, controlled exterior he usually displayed. She'd only ever seen him get angry once before and that had been under entirely different circumstances. Now what she heard was desperation. But why? It had been Dumbledore's decision to stop scouring the castle, and Dumbledore would be the one responsible if that decision, heaven forbid, turned out to have been the wrong one. Why was Remus being so stubborn about it?
He must just be concerned about Harry, she surmised. After all, he was one of James Potter's closest friends. It's only natural that he'd feel some responsibility towards his son.
But if that was the case then why wasn't he upstairs making sure Harry was all right?
Minerva glanced at her watch. There was just over half an hour left until she was due to meet with the rest of the House Heads in Dumbledore's office. They'd no doubt be discussing what further measures would be necessary in order to safeguard Potter and the rest of the students. Minerva had several journal articles suggesting defensive applications of transfiguration and she wanted a chance to review them before the meeting.
Remus conjured the last of the crates back into place and turned to glance through the doorway that led into the nest cellar, unconsciously shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
"What on earth has got into you, Remus?"
There was no answer. The dim light made his frown look more severe. She knew his face only too well: had watched it grow from young boy to world-weary man, had kissed those lips countless times. She liked that familiarity. Sometimes when she couldn't sleep, she'd roll over so that she could watch him. In sleep he looked peaceful… nothing like the troubled man that stood before her now.
"I'm going back upstairs," Minerva said firmly. "You can stay here or you can come and help us find more productive ways of capturing Black. It's entirely up to you."
Remus was still trailing behind her as she strode back through the kitchen towards her office, acknowledging the house elves crowded around the long tables with a friendly nod that belied his current state of anguish. For once his presence was not a source of comfort. She needed to be focused right now, needed a clear head. She knew they would need to discuss what had happened but personal concerns would just have to wait. There was no knowing when Sirius would attempt to breach the castle again and security simply had to be their priority. She left him at the bottom of the main staircase with the suggestion that he showered, had some breakfast and then went to see if Dumbledore had anything for him to do. Then she continued on her way.
Her office, when she finally reached it, was surprisingly gloomy. Even though it was now day, the thick clouds cloaking the sky meant that very little light had managed to penetrate the arched windows on the far side. Minerva lit the lamps with an absent wave of her hand, then settled herself behind her desk with a heavy sigh. She was feeling distinctly light headed: it seemed that the combination of no sleep and the fact that she'd barely eaten in the past few days were conspiring to bring her down. Perhaps she should have taken the advice she'd given Remus. Breakfast, at least. She pressed her hand absently against her belly as she reached for her quill, intent upon jotting down a list of the titles she intended upon looking at before all sensible thought slipped from her mind completely. Then she could send to the kitchen for some food. But before she could begin to write she was interrupted by a knock at the door.
"Come in!" Minerva called, feeling even more exhausted and wishing in her heart that it was still ten in the evening and she could return to bed and worry about everything else in the morning. Briefly she wondered if it was Remus, if he wanted to talk and whether she wanted to talk to him. But when the door swung open it was Severus Snape that strode in, slamming it dramatically behind him and almost catching his cloak in it in the process.
"Did you want something?" Minerva enquired icily, irritated at the interruption and having had quite enough theatrics for one day.
"Poppy asked me to make you some of this," Severus replied, and produced a small glass container from the depths of his thick black robes. "Three drops in a glass of water four times a day."
He handed her the vial, the liquid inside sparkling eerily in the candlelight. She knew at once what it was: an anti-nausea potion that Poppy had promised would help her to feel better, as well as keep her appetite up. What Minerva hadn't realised, however, was that Severus would be involved in producing it. She'd not been looking forward to him finding out about her pregnancy but she'd been able to reassure herself that he wouldn't have to know for at least another month or two. No wonder he was looking so smug.
"Thank you," she said, as calmly as she could manage.
"Quite the little predicament you're in." He arched an eyebrow provocatively at her and she could tell he was savouring the prospect of confrontation. Even going an entire night without sleep was not, it seemed, enough to prevent Severus Snape from exploiting an opportunity to belittle someone else.
She matched his stare, determined not to show her dismay. Why did he have to do this now of all times? Couldn't he see that she wasn't feeling well?
"I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped, knowing he wasn't fooled.
"I think you do." He sighed melodramatically. "Dear me, what a scandal. A prim and proper deputy headmistress becomes embroiled in an illicit affair with another member of staff and then gets pregnant… what will the Daily Prophet say?"
It was obvious he was enjoying this and Minerva felt suddenly angry as the last reserves of her patience drained away. Surely Snape, as Head of Slytherin, had more important things to worry about than sniping at her? This conversation would have been inappropriate at the best of times. In current circumstances it was downright inexcusable.
"I'm sure the Daily Prophet has more pressing news to concern itself with," she snapped. "Sirius Black infiltrating Hogwarts, perhaps?"
Snape raised a sardonic eyebrow.
"I doubt Rita Skeeter would be interested in such trifling matters as that," he said dismissively, clearly relishing the discomfort he was causing his colleague.
"What is this really about, Severus? I know you've got this childish grudge against Remus but that doesn't explain why you've decided to torment me as well!"
Snape's eyes narrowed menacingly and he took a slow step forward. Minerva held his gaze, fragments of an earlier conversation suddenly drifting back to her.
"Who was she?" she asked quietly.
"What?"
"The woman you loved. Remember? You told me that I wasn't the only one to know what love was. So who was she?"
There was silence. Snape gaped at her, though whether he was angry at her impertinence or merely confused she couldn't tell.
"Answer me, Severus! Who was she?!"
"You have no idea what you're talking about," he snarled furiously.
"No? Wait, I'm assuming it was a woman. Maybe a man?"
Snape leant forward over the desk and she jumped back reflexively. For a moment she found herself feeling suddenly afraid. He was a big man, certainly big enough to overpower a tired, hungry and slightly built witch who'd been stupid enough to leave her wand in her desk drawer.
But in her heart she knew that he wouldn't dare harm her.
"Don't poke your nose in where it's not wanted," Snape hissed.
"What?" Minerva exclaimed incredulously. "You poke your nose where it's not wanted all the time! My relationship with Remus! His classes! Dumbledore's reasons for trusting him!"
She paused. "Our baby," she added more quietly, and with just a hint of pride in her voice.
That seemed to be the last straw for Snape. With one anguished glance at her, he snatched up an earthenware teapot and hurled it furiously over her shoulder at the opposite wall. It shattered against the unforgiving stone with a loud bang. Ceramic fragments and cold remains of yesterday's camomile and limeflower brew exploded across the room and Minerva yelped in surprise as the sticky liquid splattered the back of her robes.
But before she could recover herself, Severus had already turned on his heel and left, wrenching the door open with such force that the resulting draught sent several large stacks of parchments cascading from her desk.
Left alone, Minerva swallowed down her misery as best she could. She could feel tears welling up and inwardly she chastised herself. She was a grown woman, a teacher, and soon she would… would be a mother. To sit and cry in her office and be so… so pathetically weak… it was unthinkable. She took a deep breath and struggled to control her emotions. At least he hadn't thrown the morning sickness potion, she consoled herself. The teapot would be easy to replace but the thought of asking Severus Snape for help with anything after that little display turned her stomach.
Their relationship, such as it was, had been on distinctly rocky ground ever since she'd fallen for Remus. Severus was convinced that her trust was misplaced and his stubborn mind could not look beyond the possibility that Remus was a liar and an ally of Black. The news of her pregnancy had probably been the final straw. To him it would have represented Minerva turning her back on him completely – the only person who might otherwise have been sensible enough to listen to his concerns and the only person who might have been able to influence Dumbledore to be a little more wary.
He's only trying to protect Harry, Minerva realised. But if only he'd give Remus a chance then he would know that Remus was not the one Harry needed to be protected from.
Before Christmas she'd begged Severus to do that very thing. But she had also asked him to cover up for her, afraid at how Dumbledore might react if he discovered she was sleeping with Remus Lupin. Would Severus have understood that? Or might he have thought that it had been Remus persuading her not to tell the truth? That would have given him even more cause to be suspicious. But she hadn't even tried to understand that. Instead she'd just lost her temper with him.
I could have tried to reason with him, she thought. I could have taken the time to listen. I could have been more patient.
But it was too late now.
She needed to change. She needed to clear up the mess. She needed to gather her papers for the meeting. So much to do, she thought.
She glanced down at her desk, hoping to find the articles she'd come in here for in the first place. There was writing on the parchments that lay there but she couldn't focus on it. Instead the narrow ribbons of black ink seemed to swirl before her gaze: articles and homework and correspondence, until it was as though the room itself was moving in unstoppable circles. Minerva felt her stomach heave with sudden nausea and she closed her eyes and rested her elbows on the top of the polished oak surface so that she could cup her face in her hands. The remedy Severus had left mocked her from a nearby shelf but she couldn't muster the strength to summon it over, nor to conjure the requisite water glass. Where had Remus gone? She really ought to talk to him. It wouldn't do for them to be at odds with each other, not now.
Minerva drifted slowly awake, vaguely aware that something wasn't quite right but not sufficiently conscious to know what it was. Her head ached slightly and she shifted awkwardly on the pillow, trying to find a more comfortable position. A fresh breeze danced through the air, making her grateful for the warm quilt that covered her. It had been made especially for her by the house elves when she'd been appointed Head of House and moved into this suite: crimson and gold patchwork with an abstract representation of the Gryffindor lion, filled with warm owl feathers. The gesture had touched Minerva deeply despite her being accustomed to the subservient role of the house elves. She knew that they took pride in their service but even so, she'd stake all the galleons she owned that they hadn't made one for Severus. Severus… his name rang a distant warning bell in her mind. There was something she should be remembering, something that would make her feel bad when she did. But try as she might, she couldn't quite grasp it.
Reluctantly she opened her eyes. It looked as though the rain had finally stopped, or at least slowed to a light drizzle. She couldn't see much of the sky from where she was lying but the small amount that was visible looked to be almost blue. Minerva stretched her legs and rolled over in an attempt to shake off the stiffness in her limbs. Someone had thoughtfully left a glass of water on the small cabinet beside the bed. Alongside it lay her spectacles, a Sunday Prophet and what looked like the February edition of Magical Education.
Sunday, she thought distantly. It's Sunday. What's wrong?
More of her memory returned. She recalled the attack of the previous night. She'd hardly slept at all. So why was she in bed now? She was no longer wearing the heavy robes she'd donned in protection against the early morning chill – instead she was wearing a nightgown: one of the spare ones from the very bottom of her dresser. Her head ached slightly but on the whole she felt a lot better than she had earlier.
But still there was something missing.
What time is it, she wondered. The shadows on the floor told her it was past midday, but they weren't so long as to suggest evening's approach. She guessed it was mid-afternoon, which meant she'd been unconscious, or at least asleep, for more than eight hours. As she became gradually more alert, the distant murmur of voices reached her ears.
Remus, Minerva thought immediately. She craned her neck a little further hoping to hear more, and only then did she notice the large and vibrant bouquet of flowers that had been hastily arranged in half full water jug, and the enamel pink tin standing next to them. They must be from Remus, surely. It would be just like him to put them in the jug rather than find a vase. But hadn't he had more important things on his mind when last she'd spoken to him?
Had something else happened?
Something she didn't remember? Or something she couldn't remember because she didn't even know about it?
Minerva sat up abruptly, feeling her stomach clench with sudden, unnatural nervousness.
Fragments of conversation drifted through from the living room.
"…she showed me," Minerva heard Remus say, "and I didn't realise it was possible, so early on."
"Oh yes," came a warm female voice. "The heart forms at about six weeks, though of course it's still immature at that stage."
Poppy Pomfrey, Minerva thought. But why is she here? Surely nothing's wrong with the baby?
She felt an ice-cold stab of fear through her heart. Poppy had warned her to rest. Poppy had told her to avoid unnecessary stress. Poppy had said…
No!
And then it all came back. The argument with Remus. The argument with Severus. That feeling of being tired, so exhausted she could barely lift her head up.
Minerva pushed herself up to a sitting position and glanced around desperately in search of her wand. The last place she remembered leaving it was in her desk drawer. Did Remus know that she kept it there? Would he even have thought to look for it if he was worried for her health?
She checked inside the bedside cabinet and was extremely relieved to find it tucked neatly into its dark green velvet case. Gripping it between shaking fingers, she aimed the tip at her belly, took a deep breath, and whispered the charm that would magnify her unborn daughter's heartbeat.
For a moment she heard nothing.
But then her ears were filled with it: the steady, determined flutter that meant life: life growing innocent and strong within her body. Immensely relieved, she climbed out of bed and was pleased to see that the worst of the dizziness had passed. She pulled on her robe, took a long drink of water and then made her way into the living room.
Remus lay sprawled out on the sofa, whilst Poppy sat neatly on the armchair opposite, her crisp white apron as pristine as usual and a marked contrast to Remus' rumpled attire which he clearly still hadn't changed since last night. Two empty teacups, a dish filled with biscuits and Minerva's entire collection of pregnancy books covered her previously immaculate coffee table.
"Ah, she's awake," Poppy said cheerfully. "Good afternoon, my dear."
Remus glanced round at her, reflexively swinging his legs off the sofa as he did so, in a manner that would have amused her had her thoughts not been elsewhere.
"How are you feeling?" he said, sounding slightly anxious.
"Fine," Minerva said. Noticing that this remark procured raised eyebrows from her companions, she added in rather a stern voice, "really. I just fell asleep."
Remus and Poppy exchanged glances infuriatingly as she sank gingerly into the remaining armchair.
"You must take more care, Minerva," Poppy said at length, helping herself to another biscuit. "Really, I don't know what Albus was thinking, letting you – no, encouraging you, even – to stay up all night."
Minerva conjured her own cup of tea with a swift flick of her wand, cradled it in both hands and sipped it slowly. Her mind was still reeling slightly at the loss of most of the day. She'd had plenty planned in even without the excitement of the previous night – and now she'd have to work hard to catch up.
As if he'd read her thoughts, Remus said firmly, "there's nothing so important it can't wait until tomorrow," and punctuated his statement with a gentle rub of the palm of his hand against her belly.
"Well, I've lingered here long enough," Poppy said decisively. "Thank you for the tea, Remus, but I really must get back to work."
Minerva started to rise but Poppy waved her back down.
"It's all right. I can see myself out perfectly well. I'll see you for a chat and another check up, Minerva, just as soon as you've got a spare moment."
Her tone made it clear that there was no room for argument.
"I want to apologise this morning," Remus said, once the door had closed firmly on Poppy and they were left alone. "I didn't mean to take my frustrations out on you. And I certainly shouldn't have shouted at you like I did. I'm sorry."
Remus reached his arms out in an apparent plea for forgiveness and Minerva walked willingly into his embrace. She was struck by the change in his manner since she'd last seen him. It was almost as if she'd dreamt the whole, horrible morning.
"It's all right," she said at length. "I can understand that you were upset. We all were. And I'd rather you were honest about how you were feeling. I wouldn't want you to cover it up, just because you were worried about me."
"But if anything had happened, if you'd lost the baby or something I would never have forgiven myself."
"Remus," she reminded him gently. "All I did was fall asleep."
"Really?" He gave her a disbelieving look. "Well, I'll be making sure you get plenty of rest from now on, believe me."
He kissed her before she could protest.
"By the way," he said as he sat back down. "Hermione Granger was looking for you."
"Did she say what she wanted?"
"No." Remus drained the last of his tea and set the cup back down on the coffee table. "I told her you were resting and couldn't be disturbed. She's going to come and see you tomorrow instead."
"Oh."
As she watched Remus vanish the tea things and start to tidy away the books, Minerva felt suddenly worried again. With all the drama of recent weeks she'd forgotten about Hermione Granger, but now she thought about it there didn't seem to have been much improvement. And she hadn't been at the party the previous night either. Minerva cursed herself for not noticing sooner. She'd taken a big risk when she'd allowed Hermione to have the Time Turner. She'd deliberated through most of the summer over whether or not she was doing the right thing and had eventually decided that the girl at least deserved a chance. She hadn't thought about what might happen if she fell out with her friends. Was it all to do with that blasted broomstick?
Remus returned with a jar of moisturiser from the bathroom and knelt down by her feet. He began gently smoothing the cream into her soles and Minerva wriggled her toes appreciatively. It was small, unexpected favours like this that meant far more to her than any grand romantic gesture. She knew they still had things to talk about but was grateful for the temporary reprieve.
"Now," Remus said calmly. "Tell me what happened with Snape and why your office looks like the aftermath of a Weird Sisters concert."
Too late. Minerva grimaced at the memory, now remembering fully what had taken place.
"He-" she began, and then stopped. "What makes you think Snape was involved?" she asked curiously.
"Poppy told me about the potion he was bringing you and then I found it on your desk. I put some in the water by your bed, by the way. I guessed you wouldn't smash a teapot by yourself."
With a heavy sigh, Minerva filled in the remaining details.
"I should have known better than to provoke him," she admitted reluctantly. "My behaviour was hardly admirable."
"Your behaviour?" Remus said incredulously. "Minerva, if anyone has cause to apologise for their behaviour, it's Severus! All he ever seems to do is try and upset people, and that's bad enough in its self. But to have a go at you like that knowing that you're tired, pregnant and vulnerable… why on earth are you feeling sorry for him?"
"I'm not feeling sorry for him," Minerva protested weakly.
"You should tell Dumbledore," Remus continued.
"There's no need for that."
Remus gave her a thoughtful look.
"Have you ever considered that he might be in love with you?"
"Don't be ridiculous."
"I'm serious."
Minerva stared at him in disbelief and he shrugged in response.
"Just a thought. I'm going to have a bath. You're very welcome to join me."
He disappeared into the bathroom and soon the sound of running water reached her ears. Minerva exhaled slowly. Severus in love with her? Surely not! It was unthinkable. He'd never shown the slightest flicker of interest in her before, despite all the years they'd been working together. But on the other hand, it would explain his behaviour. Feeling confused, she made her way slowly into the bathroom to join Remus.
"The meeting!"
He paused midway through unbuttoning his shirt.
"What about it?"
"I missed it!"
"It's fine," Remus said with infuriating calm. "I spoke to Dumbledore. He spoke the Heads of House. Everything's been sorted out."
"Is there anything I have to do?"
"No. Cynthia and Filius were both very happy to pick up a little extra. Cynthia's been keeping an eye on Gryffindor for you too. She sent the flowers. And the tin is from Filius. It's peppermint tea. He thinks it'll help you sleep better."
Minerva swallowed.
"Do they… do they know?" she asked reluctantly. She knew she'd have to face the rest of the faculty sooner or later but she'd been hoping she could put it off for a little while yet. They'd taken the news of her... well, her affair with Remus well enough, but that didn't mean they'd feel the same way about her latest bombshell.
"Dumbledore told them," Remus confirmed, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he discarded the last of his clothes into the laundry basket.
"Are they angry?"
Remus smiled affectionately at her as he settled himself in the water. "Don't. Be. Ridiculous," he parroted softly.
"Really?"
"Really. Now take your clothes off."
Without really thinking about it she slipped off her dressing gown and hung it carefully on the back of the bathroom door. Swiftly she tugged the night gown up over her head and off, and then stopped abruptly when she realised Remus was grinning at her.
"What?"
"Don't stop," he said mischievously. "I'm enjoying it."
She rolled her eyes at him, feeling suddenly conscious of her nakedness. When had she become so comfortable with him that she could strip off in front of him without even thinking about it? Yet again she was painfully aware of how quickly things were changing. Despite Remus' reassurance, it was still taking a great deal of getting used to.
"You know what we haven't done in a while?" Remus said as she joined him in the water.
"What?"
He kissed her instead of answering, pulling her close and leaving her in no doubt as what he meant.
"We did that yesterday," she murmured breathlessly a few moments later.
"Exactly."
"It's nice to see you feeling better."
She ran her hands through his hair only to find it still full of dust from where he'd been searching the cellars that morning. Despite his protests, she insisted on washing it out.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing," Remus insisted, but couldn't keep the smile off his face. "I see your maternal instincts are kicking in, that's all!"
Minerva felt his hand caress the soft curve of her stomach. She reached her arms around his shoulders and nestled her head in the crook of his neck, still not feeling completely happy.
She sighed despondently.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"I'm just… I feel so emotional lately."
He grinned. "I think you'll find that's the hormones."
"I know! I know it is, but I hate it, Remus. I hate feeling so confused all the time. Nothing seems to make sense any more."
She gazed imploringly at him and he stopped smiling abruptly.
"Look, I know it must be horrible for you. But it won't be for long. You'll be back to normal before you know it. Except that, well... it won't be normal because we'll be parents. And I know it won't be easy but it will be wonderful. And you will make a fantastic mother."
"Really?"
"Really."
Once they were both dressed, Minerva settled herself back into the living room with the Prophet, though it went completely against her instincts to do so. Sunday nights were for catching up on correspondence and checking over lesson plans for the forthcoming week. Still, much as she hated being told what to do, Remus and Poppy were right. She wasn't helping herself by working so hard.
In sharp contrast, Remus was sat behind her desk, poring over the first in a pile of books that covered the polished mahogany surface. So far he'd deflected all of her efforts to find out what he was doing but her curiosity was rapidly getting the better of her. Soon the paper lay forgotten in her lap as she craned her neck to read the title of the nearest volume, cursing the fact that she'd left her glasses by her bed.
Just as she was debating whether to go and retrieve them, there was a sharp bang as Remus abruptly closed the book he was reading. Gathering the whole stack into his arms, he announced that he was going downstairs.
"You've got more books in your office, haven't you?"
Most of her collection was in her office. She nodded, now even more intrigued.
"The key should be in the top drawer of my... well, it's wherever you put it. You're welcome to have a look. Is there something I can help with?"
"No, I just had an idea."
"You won't do anything... reckless, will you?" she said rather anxiously. The memory of yesterday's run in with Severus was still very much on her mind. She knew that Remus was trying his hardest to remain calm about it, and that Severus would probably be trying just as hard to provoke him.
"Minerva," Remus said gently. "I promise. I'm just going to do a bit of research."
She nodded her acquiescence.
"Now," he said firmly. "You're to stay here and rest. The house elves will bring dinner up at seven. Poppy's been giving them instructions, you know."
And before she could argue, he was gone.
Minerva awoke early the following morning to find Remus sprawled out next to her, fast asleep. She hadn't heard him come back the previous evening and she'd waited past midnight, only giving up when the words in her book started blurring and she could no longer keep her eyes from closing. She slipped out from beneath the coverlet as quietly as she could, pulled on her dressing gown and went to get dressed, wondering all the while what Remus had been up to. She really hoped he hadn't done anything irresponsible. Despite his promise to the contrary, she still wasn't completely reassured. She hadn't forgotten the escapades he'd got into as a student – there'd been plenty even with just the ones she knew about, and goodness knows what else he and his friends had got away with. Time and experience had changed Remus Lupin a great deal since then but Minerva knew he still had a mischievous streak deep down.
The same Remus Lupin sauntered into the bathroom barely fifteen minutes later, leaning over the sink to plant a kiss on his lover's cheek as she was pinning back her hair. Minerva arched an eyebrow teasingly at him, deciding that a light hearted approach would be best.
"You know, some women would be rather upset if their partners disappeared for most of the night without saying where they were going."
Remus grinned and set his shaving soap back down on the side of basin.
"Ah," he said, turning to face her. "Lucky for me, then, that my partner's far too sensible and trusting to do a thing like that."
"Lucky for you," she echoed in mock disbelief.
"I only went to the library," Remus conceded. "I wanted to read up on disguises and illusions so that I might have a clue as to how Sirius was getting into the castle. I knew if I told you then you'd want to come and help. I didn't realise how late it had got."
"Did you find out anything useful?"
"Not really. There's hundreds of ways he could do it. But he'd have to disguise himself as something, so if we could work out what the 'something' is, we might stand a chance of catching him."
He began to shave with slow methodical strokes.
"Well," Minerva considered carefully. "That blasted knight said it was a man he let into Gryffindor Tower. Sirius wasn't disguised then."
"No, but he couldn't have got all the way through the castle without being seen, even at that time of night."
"What if he's got an invisibility cloak?"
"He couldn't afford one," Remus said. "He'd have to go to Gringott's to get at any of his money and there's no way they wouldn't spot him."
"But he might have had money hidden away somewhere," Minerva persisted. "Or he might have stolen a cloak. Or another of You Know Who's supporters might have lent him one."
Remus shrugged his shoulders and reached for his facecloth.
"See what I mean? It's hopeless."
"Maybe not. He doesn't have a wand."
Remus paused. "How does you know he hasn't got a wand?" he asked curiously. "He might have got one of them from You Know Who or stolen it."
"If Sirius Black had a wand he could have murdered all of the boys in that dormitory with a single spell. A silencing charm would have stopped anyone hearing if they'd screamed."
Remus did not reply and Minerva felt shaken once more by how much danger Harry had been in. It sickened her to think how simple it could have been for Black.
"Let's not talk about this now," she said gently. "You know Dumbledore will be doing everything possible."
Her gaze fell on the table beside her bed where Remus had left one of the books he'd got from her office. It was 'Modern Animagus Training': the one she'd lent to Hermione Granger all those weeks ago. Staring at the illustration on the cover, a sudden inspiration hit. Minerva gathered her robes and went to fetch her wand and diary.
"Where are you going?" Remus called from the bathroom. "It's not even seven thirty yet."
"I just had an idea."
"What kind of idea?"
She paused, one hand already on the doorknob.
"You'll just have to be sensible and trusting, Remus!" was all she said.