Chapter 2: Incarceration

A/N: This chapter occurs between chapters 28 and 29 in For Tomorrow We May Die.

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"Remus! There you are. Come on in, come in."

Remus looked up as Lara spoke to him and stifled a sigh. When he first met her, he'd thought she was a pretty woman, if a bit on the plump side, and her smiles had seemed genuine and inviting. Now she was almost evil incarnate.

"Lara," he said stiffly, standing. He picked up his briefcase and his copy of the Werewolf Code of Conduct and tried not to look at the others in the room. Half of them were children still, and he didn't particularly want to think about what trials they had in front of them. Almost everyone there looked despondent, which he could understand perfectly. He bordered on despondency himself far too often.

"Did you do your reading?" she asked as she ushered him into her office, her hand at his back. The first time he'd come, he'd thought it was a comforting gesture, and he'd allowed himself to be put at ease by her manner. This time, though, he was wary and quickened his pace slightly in an effort to outdistance her touch. He succeeded, moving to the far chair, where he stood until she had moved around her desk and seated herself.

"I did," he replied. "And I have questions."

"Wonderful!" she exclaimed. "That tells me you read carefully." Her smile was bright and cheerful. A little too cheerful for his taste. "Can I offer you tea, Remus?"

He hesitated, then nodded. "Thank you," he replied. He had a feeling he was going to be here for a while, so he might as well accept a bit of hospitality. She stood again and walked briskly to a sideboard, taking down a pair of cups and saucers and a white porcelain teapot. While she prepared the tea, he looked around, taking in his surroundings.

The office was considerably tidier than it had been three days ago. Gone were the piles of parchment and folders that had littered her desk, and the haphazard stacks of books had found homes on shelves. Her desk was clear except two folders, a dog-eared copy of the Werewolf Code of Conduct and a quill and ink. The framed certificates were lined neatly on the top shelf of her bookcase now, and he could clearly see each of them. Dark Art Defense League; NEWTs in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies; Employee of the Month awards for January 1992 and April 1994; Hogwarts diploma dated 1985. She was a few years younger than he, then, as he'd first thought.

"Here we are," she said, placing the teacups on the desk, one in front of him and one in front of her chair. "Sugar?" she asked, offering a bowl of sugar cubes. He took two and stirred them into the steaming liquid.

"Thank you," he said, and she smiled brightly.

"You're welcome. Now, you said you have questions?"

He took a sip of his tea, then placed the cup back onto the saucer and opened his briefcase, removing a notebook and quill. "Yes," he replied, balancing the notebook on one knee and the Code on the other. "First, and most pressing, I suppose, since the Code was modified with the passing of the Magical Creatures Protection Act, am I correct in assuming that werewolves are counted as beasts again rather than beings?"

Lara lifted an eyebrow. "Remus, I really hope you are not taking the semantics too seriously," she said. "Minister Davis thought it best to combine all aspects of it into a single unit, and it was easier to move Support Services to the Beast division than to move both Capture and Registry to Being, but Minister Davis, and the entire Ministry, for that matter, recognizes that werewolves are special cases."

"Meaning subject to all the limitations and liabilities of both beasts and beings, yet privy to the privileges and protections of neither," he said levelly.

"Do you have a specific concern, or is this a rhetorical question?" she asked.

"It is a general question at the moment, but not rhetorical, given that I'd like an answer."

"Very well. For twenty-four hours prior to the full moon and twelve hours after, werewolves fall under the jurisdiction of the Beast Division. Forty-eight hours after the full moon until forty-eight hours prior to the next, they fall under the Being division."

"And that leaves," he paused, adding quickly, "sixty hours per month unaccounted for."

"You're very bright, Remus."

"I am an adult who has finished school and taught it myself," he replied.

Lara sighed quietly. "Yes," she said after a moment. "There is a considerable gray area. Let me ask you this. Have you ever taken the Wolfsbane?"

"I have."

"Then you know that with that potion, the effects of the full moon seldom last more than twenty-four hours. Your record indicates that you have been a werewolf for thirty years, which means your condition predates the Wolfsbane, and therefore I assume you are aware that without it…"

"The transformation is much less predictable," he finished for her, nodding.

"Yes," she replied. "We have been attempting to refine the laws somewhat, but it's difficult when there is such a wide error of margin. To restrict werewolves who have access to Wolfsbane based on the needs of those who do not would be… overly assertive."

Remus nodded.

"To lighten the restrictions on those who do not have access to the Wolfsbane based on the requirements of those who do would be…" She faltered this time, seeming to search for a word.

"Unconscionable," he suggested. Her eyes widened, but she nodded.

"Yes. It would be," she replied carefully.

"I am aware that werewolves are dangerous, Miss Berkeley," he began, and she interrupted.

"Lara. Really, Remus, I will not have you calling me Miss Berkeley."

He nodded, but continued without correcting his address. "You needn't hedge the issues with me. I am well aware of what I am and of what I become on a monthly basis. You do not have to educate me in regards to that. I am more concerned with what my rights are now that the Code of Conduct has tripled in length."

"Very well," she said, sipping her tea. "In answer to your question, then—for the sixty hours unaccounted for, werewolves are subject to both Being and Beast regulations. My official advice would be to exercise extreme caution for the forty-eight hours preceding and following each full moon, just to be safe. Give the Ministry no reason to be aware that you exist during that time."

Remus nodded and took a deep breath, then flipped to the next marked page in his copy of the Code. "I'm looking at page 297," he told her, and she raised an eyebrow, then reached for her copy of the code, flipping through it. "'The Relocation and Reconditioning Act states that if a Magical Creature, as defined by Article Seven of the Ministry Standard for Classification of Beasts and Beings, is causing undue duress or nuisance, the creature will be captured, removed, relocated and reconditioned as determined appropriate and necessary by the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures,'" he read. "Does that mean that if I'm irritating a neighbor, I'm subject to capture and release in another country?"

Lara laughed softly. "Technically, I suppose so," she replied. "But the DRCMC is not going to pass such a ruling against a werewolf if no tangible harm was done. And, to be perfectly frank, Remus, that law is directed at gnomes and nifflers. Garden pests. Creatures that are annoying, but not dangerous, and it is an attempt to get wizards to notify the Ministry and let us take care of the pest problem rather than just killing pesky critters. If it came down to it, yes, I suppose the law could apply to you, but in all honesty, if you managed to make such a nuisance of yourself that it required Ministry intervention, you would be tried as a wizard, and therefore subject to fines and restraining orders like any other." She leaned over the desk, clasping her hands in front of her. "Really, Remus, if I were you, I would concern myself with the sections B and C of Article Three. The laws specifically pertaining to werewolves, and the laws pertaining directly to werewolves. Don't work yourself into a dither over the laws that pertain indirectly, and do give us a bit of credit for judgement here."

"Of course," Remus replied neutrally. Give them credit for persecuting him under a different law if it meant a harsher penalty for the same infraction. He made a mental note to keep the legal definitions in mind and to obtain the most recently updated copy of the laws pertaining to magical creatures. Knowing his legal rights and finding the loopholes that the Ministry had left had never served him wrong before.

"Now, I'm surprised that you didn't have any questions regarding your rights or responsibilities," she said, flipping towards the front of her copy of the book.

"Oh, I do," Remus answered. "But right now I'm asking about the laws."

"Let's talk about responsibilities today, and registry and support services," she suggested with a smile. "I'm afraid we have rather limited time, though I will be more than happy to schedule another meeting with you, perhaps towards the end of next week or the beginning of the following, if you would like to discuss the laws. Now, if you have a question about the laws specifically pertaining to werewolves…"

He looked at her mildly. She had just answered another question, though one he wouldn't have asked directly. "No," he replied. "We can discuss responsibilities, registry and support services."

She nodded. "Excellent!" she exclaimed. "Let's start with the responsibilities, then. Did you understand the requirements outlined under the section on Management of the Condition?"

"Perfectly," he replied. "In short, it is my responsibility to see to it that I am not a danger during the full moon. The ministry advises the use of Wolfsbane Potion if it is available and if it is not, strongly urges the werewolf to voluntarily surrender to protective custody forty-eight hours in advance of the full moon. Whether or not the werewolf procures and properly takes the Wolfsbane, he is subject to execution on sight if he is spotted unrestrained while in his wolf form."

Lara frowned slightly, but nodded. "You have read thoroughly," she commented.

"As you pointed out earlier, I have lived with this condition for thirty years. I am rather used to changes in the Code, and very familiar with the previous three adaptations of the document. This is, however, the first time the Ministry has condoned the unrestrained violence against any Magical Creature that I am aware of."

"The Ministry condones it in the case of extremely dangerous creatures," Lara replied. "Nundus and lethifolds and quintapeds, for instance…"

"Are not commonly found in populated areas of England," he finished for her. "And are not classified as Beings at any time of the month, and are not sentient. But I'm not here to debate the ethics of the Ministry, am I?"

"No," she answered softly. "You are not."

"Are you satisfied that I am well-versed in my responsibilities?"

"Yes."

"Did I cover the basics of my obligations to society?"

"I believe so. You are aware…"

"If it is in the Code, I am aware of it, Miss Berkeley," he replied testily.

She sighed. "When you call me Miss Berkeley, it reminds me of when I was a child at Hogwarts. Please, Remus, we are both adults and I prefer you call me Lara."

So he was putting her at a disadvantage by calling her Miss Berkeley. Interesting. He tucked that into his mind for future reference. "The registry then," he went on, not acknowledging her request.

"Yes," she said. "The registry. Since you read so thoroughly, I suppose I do not have to tell you that you are required to keep updated contact information with the Ministry."

"And I believe I told you last time we spoke that I do not have more updated information that what you have. Albus Dumbledore will know where to find me, or how to contact me. That is the best I can offer." He was quickly growing irritated with her, and she with him if her expression was any indication.

"The Ministry has a number of public housing units, and three are specifically suited for werewolves. They provide complimentary transportation to and from all meetings with your advisor—"

"I am perfectly capable of Apparating, or barring that of taking the tube."

"—And also access to all Ministry support services—"

"I don't need the charity."

"—as well as providing you with reminders when the full moon draws near and seeing to your adherence to the Code—"

"And I do not need help managing my condition."

"I'm going to give you the address to the nearest one, and advise you to speak with the proprietor."

If either was listening to a word the other was saying, neither acknowledged it.

"I think we've had enough for one day," she said after a moment, capping her ink bottle again and placing her copy of the Code aside. "But before you go, I have a word of advise. I would strongly encourage you to adjust your attitude, Remus. I am here to help you, and I am your connection to the Ministry, and your advocate. Now, I am willing to make certain allowances, but the next time we meet, I expect you to leave your belligerence behind."

"Don't patronize me," he said quietly. "I've been playing this game for thirty years. I understand the rules."

"I am not patronizing you, Remus. I honestly care about you and about your condition." There was something in her eyes that made him believe her. Irritating, patronizing, oblivious perhaps, but honest. "Now, you are giving yourself over into protective custody, correct?"

He closed his eyes and sighed heavily. "Yes," he replied after a moment.

"Then let's get you to your holding unit."

"Call it what it is, Lara. It's a cell."

"Very well," she replied, standing. "We'll get you settled in, regardless of what you wish to call it. Come." She gestured for him to follow, and he picked up his briefcase and copy of the Code of Conduct. then followed her down the hall and through another door where a guard was standing. "Lupin, Remus," she told the guard, "case number 33795009." The guard made a notation in his book, handed her a box, then nodded over his shoulder.

"Number fourteen."

"Come along, Remus," she said, ushering him into a cell. It was a plain rectangular room, possibly eight feet by twelve feet, made entirely of stone. As Lara stepped inside, her footsteps echoed off the walls and ceiling. There was no furniture in the cell, not even a bed or washstand. Not even a toilet. Just a blanket folded in the corner.

"All right," she said, opening the box. "Wand in here, and your briefcase, and clothes."

"My clothes," he repeated.

"Yes," she said firmly. "No one is going to see you, Remus. Just hand them over now."

He turned away from her and nudged his shoes off with his toes, then picked them up and placed them in the box she held. He removed his socks next, and they joined the shoes. He hesitated.

"Come on, Remus. Is this going to be a battle every time we meet?"

"Is this going to be a requirement every time we meet?" he asked in reply.

"Yes," she answered and he closed his eyes. "I will be documenting your scars every month before and after the full moon. Normally I'd do that now, but since the initial assessment was only three days ago, it should be more than sufficient. Come on now, give me the robe."

He took a deep breath, then lifted the robe over his head, his face burning as she took it from him.

"Remus…" she said with a warning tone as he hesitated again. "I will call the guard if I need to."

Steeling himself, he finished undressing, depositing his underpants into the box as well. She closed the lid and placed a seal over the edge. "You'll get this back when you leave," she told him, and her footsteps retreated towards the door. Remus was standing with his back to her still, hugging himself against the humiliation and chill of the situation. He waited expectantly for the door to shut, but it didn't. Instead, he heard her footsteps returning into the cell again, and a moment later, he felt the scratchy wool of the blanket being draped over his shoulders.

"It's going to be all right," Lara whispered, and he found himself pulled into her arms for a brief embrace. She squeezed the back of his neck and rubbed his shoulder soothingly. Despite himself, he leaned into her embrace, reluctant to turn away from the last human contact he expected to have for nearly five days. "I'll check on you first thing Monday morning," she promised, then patted his cheek. She smiled, her eyes affixed firmly to his as she stepped away. "And don't you go telling anyone I did that," she cautioned. "I'm not supposed to touch you."

She walked towards the door again, and this time he did hear it close with a resounding click. For a long moment, he just stood there in the middle of the cell, blinking rapidly, determined not to give in to the overwhelming sense of desolation.

"Come on, Mrs. Murphy," Lara's voice carried down the corridor from one of the other cells. "Edward will be just fine. I promise."

"He's only seven," came another female voice, this one thick with tears. Remus sank slowly to the floor, leaning against the wall, his eyes closed.

"I know," Lara said comfortingly. "But he's safe here. No one can hurt him. Come on."

He felt the first hot tear roll down his cheek. He wanted so desperately to hate Larentia Berkeley, but he knew in his heart that she honestly cared. It had been easier to hate the Ministry and its laws when it didn't have a kind face attached to it.

"I'll be okay, mum," another voice came drifting down the corridor, this one belonging to a child. He sounded like he was trying very hard to be brave.

"Mummy loves you, Edward. Mummy'll be back first thing Wednesday morning, as soon as she can," came the broken, tear-laden voice.

"I love you too." It was either a loud whisper or a soft statement, and then there was another clicking of a door.

A few moments later, there was utter silence. Somewhere towards the back of the unit, a muffled sob rose, echoing off the walls. Remus tried to tune it out, but to no avail, and if he had any comfort that night, it was knowing that he wasn't the first to break.