Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all to do with Harry Potter, his friends, family and enemies. This story is for fun, not profit.
Where Do I Begin?
Chapter Three
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He fills my heart with very special things;
With angels' songs, with wild imaginings.
He fills my soul with so much love-
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Remus had been busy that week taking turns to guard the Department of Mysteries, helping Bill Weasley work out where Emmeline Vance had last seen Lucius Malfoy and relaying information about Harry to Dumbledore. Of course, he had not been too busy to have noticed that following Harry's trial the only person not celebrating was Sirius. He had smiled politely whenever someone talked to him, but in the evenings Remus could hear him in the attic yelling and throwing things at Kreacher, the house elf.
Harry's last day of vacation had come and when Remus returned to Grimmauld Place that afternoon, Sirius was no where to be found. He walked into the sitting room and found Hermione reading. A diligent student, she spent most of her time indoors reading about everything and anything, a real thirst for knowledge, much like a younger wizard he once knew. However, that young wizard soon learned the harsh reality that what you believe to be ultimate truths in literature are not the facts of real life. He only hoped that Hermione would realize this much earlier than he did. "Good evening," he said.
"Evening Professor," she smiled over her book. "If you're looking for Sirius he's locked himself in his mother's room with Buckbeak."
"Uh – thank-you," he frowned, unable to shake the feeling that the girl may possess legilimencer tendencies. He did not need this incredibly intelligent witch reading his thoughts, it could result in the Order's plans becoming uncovered by the dark forces. After all it was well known that the Dark Lord was a legilimencer and Remus could not grasp the art of Occulmency. It could also bring up questions about other embarrassing thought he conjured on his lonely nights on guard duty.
He left Hermione to her studies, creeping upstairs to the master bed-room to avoid waking the miserable Mrs Black. He knocked on the peeling paint "Sirius?" There was no answer. He leant down to the key hole and peered inside, but could not see anything through the pitch black. Suddenly the sharp scent of lighter fluid he associated with his friend wafted from the room along with a hint of dead rats. There was no hiding from Remus' olfactory senses. "I know you're in there. Open this door."
"Bugger off!" came a gruff voice.
"You're acting very immature for a grown man," Remus said sternly. "You should be helping Harry pack like a responsible parent. Not locking yourself in your bedroom like a selfish prat."
"Bugger off!" yelled the voice.
"No! I'm going to sit out here and prattle on about the strange things you've done in your lifetime and if anyone should come along, that's your bad luck," he said and sat himself down against the door. He used to do this whenever Sirius had stubbornly locked himself in the boys' toilets at school. Remus would sit in the corridor and mention anything that came to mind about Sirius' immature behaviour to the students walking the halls. Of course this turned Remus' scholarly reputation into that of a lunatic, but it still gathered a crowd to hear about the misfortunes of Mr Black.
Now all he needed was one that had really perturbed Sirius. One scenario that would make his skin crawl at the hint of it. Remus' smile grew as the very one he nearly told everyone in seventh grade during the graduation speeches. "Let's start with your escapades to the girls' showers every Friday night with James' invisibility cloak. There was that time in fourth year, when you crept into the Slytherin showers to stare at Gretel Baddock. You didn't realise that the boys' showers needed repairs that night and were using the girls until they were fixed. You got stuck in that cubicle with –"
Suddenly, the door sprung open and Remus fell flat on his back, staring up at a livid convicted murderer. "You promised you would never tell anyone about that!" he hissed. Remus somersaulted backwards into the dark room and sat there grinning at him. "Why don't you ever use a charm?" Sirius sighed, moving over near Buckbeak.
"My way is much more fun," Remus grinned stupidly. "What's bothering you?"
The dark man huddled close under the hippogriff's wing and glared back at Remus. "If by 'bothering' you mean that I'm going to be left inside this rank evil house for the rest of my life, hopeless and alone, while you and the others get to stop the man who could kill my godson," he said.
"You always were over dramatic," Remus sighed. "I'm going to be staying here during the year because someone needs to prevent you gallivanting about and getting yourself killed. And you're part of the Order so you'll always be updated with what's happening."
"That's not the same!" he snapped. "And you know it."
The silence hung in the air as the two friends glared at each other. No matter what Remus would say he knew that Sirius was going to sulk. A few times these holidays he had seen Harry complain and brood about the fact that no one would count on him, no one believed him, no one trusted him. And yet here in a room, just down the hallway, a forty-five year old man would be empathetic to Harry's deep blue funk.
"What's so funny?" Sirius grunted.
"Oh! Nothing," he stepped a little closer to the hippogriff but halted when it clenched its front claw. Perhaps it could smell the aftermath of last week's transformation. "Ron and Hermione received the prefect positions."
"Well give them my congratulations," huffed Sirius to Remus' frustration. Did he not realise that this would be the one thing that could really set Harry off? The Boy Who Lived, after all he has done, is unqualified for a prefect position?
There was a quiet knock at the door and Remus opened it to find Molly happier than she had been for days. "Did hear the good news? Yes? Well, I need you two to come down and help with the decorations for the party! I'm going to go and owl the others! This is wonderful!" she tottered down the hallway giving whoops of elation.
Remus glared into the dark. "You coming?" Sirius had turned his back to them and was cooing to Buckbeack, so he left him there to sulk.
The party was small but pleasant which is what Remus preferred. After cake Sirius had finally joined the party and came over to stand by him as the party got into the swing. Remus offered him his plate; "Want to finish it? I'm full on chocolate," he groaned.
"I'm sure," he said sarcastically, but took the apology as well as the plate. "Look I'm sorry. I've got responsibilities now and I should put Harry above the rest of stupid crap I worry about. Like my childish behaviour." Remus stared at him with an open jaw, surprise smacked all over his face. "Shut up, Moony."
"What about you Sirius?" Ginny asked. The two men finally realized they had a captive audience. Remus could not recall what they may have been discussing without them. Tonks mouthed the word prefect above the kids' heads and gave them a smirk.
"No one would have made me prefect, I spent too much time in detention with James. Lupin was the good boy, he got the badge," Sirius dug him in the ribs with his elbow.
"I think Dumbledore might have hoped I would be able to exercise some control over my friends," Remus pointedly looked at Sirius. "I need scarcely say that I failed dismally."
Remus was worried that the conversation about James would dampen Harry's spirit. However, Harry's face seemed to lighten up to Remus' curiosity as he walked over to load his plate with food.
"Well I think it was great of Dumbledore to award you with prefect. Just because you're a werewolf doesn't mean that you don't deserve equal rights," Hermione said into her Butterbeer.
"Lupin got it because he deserved it," Sirius said sharply. "Not because Dumbledore wanted to show his support."
Remus knew where Sirius was going with this. Afterall, he was there all through Remus' self doubt about his authoritative position, occasionally hexing Severus for arguing otherwise. "Sirius, it's okay," he patted his arm. Sirius walked over to the food table to eat away his frustration.
"I'm not saying Dumbledore's into favoritism," Hermione back-peddled waving her hands about. "On the contrary, his display of house elf rights is much to be desired. I mean, it's the same kind of nonsense as werewolf segregation, isn't it? It all stems from this horrible thing wizards have of thinking they're superior to other creatures, when they could actually have a lot to learn from these other beings," Hermione said as she polished off her Butterbeer.
"Are you suggesting that Dumbledore's a bigot, Hermione?" Ginny asked, incredulous to her friend's opinion of their Headmaster.
"I'll leave you two to it," Remus nodded his way out of the conversation. These days the Weasleys were all a little edgy when it came to those who were not complete Dumbledore supporters. All thanks to the lack of support from their son Percival. Ginny's loyalty would countermand Hermione's opinion for a good hour Remus thought. Enough time for him to get something to eat and find a comfy seat.
His plan was foiled as Kingsley intercepted him and handed him a clean plate. "So, much happen on duty tonight?"
"No," Remus shoveled creamy potatoes onto his plate. "But the people at the Registry are becoming suspicious of my time spent there each fortnight. I really don't need to hand those forms in to the desk in triplicate."
He did not mean to complain. If Kingsley were to guard the Department of Mysteries then people would be suspicious of where he spent all those hours away from his desk. The only logical solution was for the unemployed to guard the door during the day.
"Perhaps you could sign up for some of that werewolf trial studies they're conducting to find an antidote. That'll give you an excuse," Kingsley mumbled through a chicken wing.
"Er, no thank-you. Not even if they paid me a million galleons." Remus had heard about the testing that went on down there. Only rumors of course, as all written proof was surely disintegrated to prevent filing by some out-of-the-loop clerk. Lots of werewolves were taken from Russia and believed to be shipped here for testing. So far none of them have been returned to their families; at least none of those he knew.
"It's a pity about Potter here," Kingsley pointed a bone at Harry, who was talking to the Weasley twins and Mundungus. Remus quickly looked for Molly to prevent a natural disaster waiting to happen. He found Molly picking up empty plates from around the room. "I don't understand why Dumbledore didn't make Potter prefect."
Remus recalled a conversation he had with Dumbledore in his seventh year. He was brought up to the office and left to sit there quietly as the old professor began to stir up a pensieve with his wand. "You want to know why James is Headboy." Remus did not know what to say. He could not lie about it; there was no doubt that Dumbledore could read the minds of his students. But he also wanted to show his support for his friend. So he kept his mouth shut. "My dear boy, I have every faith in your ability to lead Hogwarts in the tradition of those before you. But I also understand the great stress it takes to run a school such as this. With university entrance exams approaching I expect you to get into the finest tertiary education with full scholarship. You, Remus, will go far and be a great influence on those to whom you share your wisdom and kindness. Therefore I do not wish to press more upon you than is necessary." He would never forget those piercing blue eyes for as long as he would live.
"He'll have had his reasons," Remus replied.
Though Kingsley continued the conversation without him, Remus nodded in all the right places to pay more attention to what Alastor was showing young Harry. With every word a look of horror glanced behind the spectacles. Whatever Alastor's intentions, he was causing grief to the boy. Remus hunted around for Sirius and caught his eye from across the table. He jerked his head in Harry's direction and Sirius nodded. "What's that you've got there, Mad-Eye?" Sirius asked, turning Alastor's attention away from Harry's quiet retreat.
"Will you excuse me, Kingsley?" Remus asked and went to join Sirius. He peered over his shoulder at the moving photograph, a time that was so innocent. He stared down at all the faces that were now lost to the world: whether dead, crazed or haunted by the former implication on their friends.
"Well that was definitely a long time ago. Sirius still has his ripped jeans," Remus laughed at pointed at the waving young man.
"Oh will you give it a rest! It was the fashion then," growled Sirius.
Remus snickered; "I never could understand why you would ruin a perfectly good pair of muggle pants. Especially in the middle of winter."
"You and your damn patches." Suddenly there was a loud crack and Remus, with a twitch of his ear, could hear faint sobbing from the room above. "What's the matter, Moony?"
There was a yell. "The boggart's the matter," Alastor growled and they took off up the stairs.
There they found Harry standing in the doorway and lying dead on the floor in front of Molly. Remus heard a gasp from Sirius but he quickly assessed the situation and rushed to Molly's side. "Riddikulus!"
Harry's body turned into a silver orb and then vanished in a puff of smoke. Molly was sobbing in his arms and though he tried his best to comfort her, he could not shake the anguish that sight had stirred within him. It was written on everyone's face, despair haunting their eyes. There before all of them was the reality of what the future may bring; their worst nightmare. The death of The Boy Who Lived.
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