Chapter 16: A Rat Out of Hiding
Remus Lupin walked alongside the Slayer in awkward silence. Since Xander and Willow lived north of Buffy, he and Tonks had split up the tiny group and had gone their opposite ways. The werewolf wizard was beginning to regret the separation. When the other two American teens had been with them, they had engaged Buffy in conversation, even Tonks had been able to get Buffy to open up to her by asking the Slayer which way she preferred her hair. Where Remus felt as though it was his first day at Hogwarts all over again, everyone talking joyfully to one another and he wandering around feeling a complete clod.
Strangely, it made him wish that Sirius and James were here.
Despite his previous words, he was fatigued from the long battle and the magic he'd displayed. He wondered how Buffy could bounce along the road with such vigor. Of course, a Slayer and a werewolf would differ in such an instance.
He remembered when Rupert had first told James, Sirius, Peter, and himself about the Slayer and what he would eventually do with the rest of his life. It had all sounded exciting to the Marauders, a huge adventure that they had wanted to be a part of. Rupert had adamantly refused to let them delve into his books and studies, saying that they obtained what they needed from school. Remus now wondered if the Potters hadn't had a hand in his refusal, but as a child he had daydreamed of being in Rupert's place.
How foolish the fancies of youth!
None of the Marauders had ever truly appreciated what Rupert Giles' life really turn out to be like. Remus had always looked up to Rupert as had James. It had been Rupert that had explained to Remus that there wasn't a need to worry about being a werewolf, that Rupert himself knew of two from his studies and they were particularly lovely ladies. It wasn't until after Rupert had entered University that he had become such a prick and started hanging out with Ethan Rayne.
Seeing the things he had in the last few weeks, Remus understood how the younger Rupert had wanted to pull away from all of it, to loose himself in the addiction of Wiccan magic. He could only imagine what it had been like when Rupert had first entered his studies at fourteen and the more intense courses once he'd started at Oxford.
"How long have you known Giles?" Buffy suddenly tore into his reverie.
He gave her a startled glance. "I was eleven when we met, you can guess at the years."
She nodded, smiling wisely. It was strange how her whole demeanor could change in a blink of an eye. "You were a friend of his brother?" she asked, but it sounded more like a statement.
"James was one of my best friends, yes," Remus answered carefully unsure of where this conversation was leading.
"That's why you came with Harry, because you were doing your duty to your friend. I get that, I really do, " Buffy said, as though she was working out a puzzle. "So I can count on that same loyalty transferring over to Giles."
Remus finally put together the puzzle Buffy had been working on. "I wouldn't betray Rupert or Harry. I assure you Buffy, I only have concern for their safety."
"Just checking. I know one of your other friends Iscarioted Harry's parents, I wanted to make sure that doesn't happen again," Buffy said in explanation. "Giles is my Watcher and nothing will happen to him."
Remus nodded, feeling a lump of disquiet fill him. He wasn't sure what it meant but it left him tingling with suspicion. "Rupert is one of the few links I have left to those I considered my family, as is Harry."
"Then I hope you stay in Sunnydale," Buffy concluded with a decisive jerk of her head. "Giles could use a life and it would keep him distracted from me pursuing mine."
"Is that your off handed way of saying that you want me to stay?" Lupin said with a guarded smile.
She shrugged and added brightly, "Just don't make me hurt you, because I will if I have to."
"I'll keep it in mind," Remus replied with his typical dry wit.
"This is my house," she said, pointing towards a quaint craftsman split level with a charming front porch. "You want to come in, rest before you head out for Giles'?"
Remus wanted nothing more then to take the weight of his feet, but he had second thoughts about it. What would Buffy's mother think about a strange man entering her house with her sixteen-year-old daughter? The last thing he needed was to be placed in jail for aiding in the delinquency of a minor. And that was the least of the offenses that popped into his mind.
"Won't your mother question my presence?" Remus asked.
"Nah, she's very good at turning the other blind eye," Buffy mixed her adages. "Come on, you look dead on your feet, and I know the look well. I may even get Mom to give you a lift back to Giles'."
"I don't want to intrude," Remus tried to back out. He was tired but he wanted to check on Rupert, Harry, Hermione, and Ron. The battle against not only the vampire population but the newly arrived Dementors would have been taxing for all three young wizards. And Rupert had been terribly thrown by the sight of James' animagus form produced by Harry's charm
But Buffy came around to step in front of him. "Look, you're tired. You get tired like this, you make mistakes. I don't want to get you killed."
He couldn't reject her reasoning, his mind felt full of cotton and it would be nice to get a cup of coffee in him before returning to Rupert's flat. If he planned on staying here in Sunnydale, he would have to find a job to pay for a flat of his own. Once that he could connect to the floo network and be able to get to England in the flash of a flame. Without Sirius, he felt he was unnecessary back at Grimmauld Place and Harry wouldn't need him for school. But he could do something for the Order even here.
So far the American Department of Magic had not committed themselves in the war against Voldemort, waiting to see if the Ministry could take handle the Dark Wizard on their own terms before America pledged their assistance. Considering the failed attempts of the two magical governments working in tandem in the pat, Remus could understand the hesitance. But perhaps he could bring the two together against Voldemort. Lightening the load Harry had to bear.
Buffy mounted the stairs with the exuberant amount of energy that all teenagers were prescribed with and threw the front door open. "Mom, I'm home," she cried.
Tentatively, Remus stepped over the threshold, his attention driven to the stairs as Mrs. Summers descended them. "Hey honey. Who's your guest?"
"This is Remus Lupin, he's a friend of Giles. We finished cataloging the library or what's left of it, but Giles' car broke down and Mr. Lupin offered to walk me home," Buffy said in a rush. "He brought Harry over from England. Lupin this is my mother Joyce Summers."
"It's very nice to meet you," Joyce greet with a dazzling smile, offering the werewolf her hand.
Gently, Remus accepted it. "It's a pleasure, Mrs. Summers."
"Oh, please call me Joyce," she offered with sincerity.
"Then you must call me, Remus," the werewolf replied.
Buffy looked at him and then at her mother with a curious expression on her face. "Mom, I thought you could give Lupin a ride over to Giles. It's been a long day and he's really tired."
"Hm, oh sure, honey. Can I offer you a cup of coffee or some tea before we head out, Remus?" Joyce offered as the gracious host.
Remus felt Buffy's eyes boring into the side of his head. As a werewolf he felt he needed to stay on the good side of the Slayer, but he found Joyce Summers incredibly captivating. Her soft smile, her wide eyes and long locks of blonde spirals seemed as though a memory of a dream. And he had suddenly found himself thinking in poetry.
He shook himself out of his stupor and nodded gratefully to Joyce. "Coffee would be wonderful."
"Great." She turned her attention to her flabbergasted daughter. "Buffy, you're father called, said he was going to be in town and wanted to know if you wanted to get in some pre-back-to-school shopping."
"I'll call him, thanks Mom," Buffy replied, the strain in her voice easily discerned by the werewolf's finely-tuned hearing.
Joyce's features arranged themselves into a look of concern. "You okay, honey. Are you sure you aren't still clinging to that flu you had a couple of weeks ago?"
Buffy gave her a cheerful smile, this time not as force and to Remus' surprise not the pathetic interpretation it had been the last couple of weeks. "I'm one hundred and ten percent. Just all that hundred and ten percent needs a long snooze. I think Giles' books sucked all the energy out of me."
"You should go on up to bed then. I'll make sure Remus gets home safely," Joyce told her daughter, running a loving hand down her daughter's cheek.
If Buffy had been planning to object to this, it was thwarted by her mother's gentle manner. "Goodnight Mom, Lupin."
"Night honey," Joyce said, as Buffy mounted the stairs she'd just descended.
"Goodnight Buffy," Remus said, earning a pointed glare for his efforts.
Joyce must have missed. "Now how about that coffee?"
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James Edward Potter stood in front of a long crystalline mirror, his dress robes flowing off his lanky body as he tried to flatten his recalcitrant hair. There was a nervousness about the twenty-one year old wizard as he prepared himself before the mirror, his green/brown eyes darting around the room and looking heaven ward as though in silent prayer. His nervousness could be forgiven, even if it were a rare event that James Potter ever became nervous. And today was such a rare event.
Today, James was to marry Lily Evans, the most beautiful, kind and caring woman he had ever known. It both seemed impossible and incredibly real at the same time.
He dipped the comb in a basin of water for the umpteenth time and ran it through the mop of unruly black hair. "Bloody hair," he cursed as the hair got entangled into the teeth of the comb.
"Lighten up, James. Everyone knows what you look like," Sirius said behind him.
As his best man, Sirius Black was dressed elegantly in deep crimson robes, matching the color that Lily had chosen for the wedding. He looked more the part of the groom then James did, with his handsome features and suave demeanor. His hair certainly didn't stand up on end as though he'd been electrocuted!
"Oh, you're one to talk," James teased back, still pulling at the comb. "Look at you. Tell me it didn't take a charm to keep your robes from wrinkling."
"That's the happiness of being incredibly rich Prongs my boy. You can get the finest charm cleaning in the wizarding world. You can throw flames at me and these lovelies wouldn't be singed."
James rolled his eyes in grand exaggeration and gave a small cry as he yanked the comb from his tangled hair. "Are Remus and Peter in place."
"I'll go check if it will calm you down?" Sirius asked, sounding very put out.
"I'd appreciate it, Padfoot. I just want everything to go perfectly. Lily deserves perfect," James said, straightening his disheveled robes.
Sirius chuckled. "Then why is she marrying you?"
"Oh get out before I hex you to next Sunday," James threatened half-heartedly.
"You wouldn't dare," Sirius countered lightly. "Who would be your best man?"
"I'd pull Remus from usher duty," James was quick to answer.
Sirius put a dramatic hand to his heart. "I'm wounded. How quickly you replace me, Prongs."
"Just remember you're expendable," James quipped cheerfully.
Sirius opened the door from out of the grooms room and into the church. "I'll be back in a moment, hopefully with a tranquilizing potion."
"Mate you are both witty and the best of friends but get out before I do something you'll regret." James heard him chuckle all the way down the hall and into the chapel.
Turning back to the mirror, James continued his scrutiny of his appearance. His white shirt was expertly pressed and his collar was folded neatly over that of his robes. Red strips in the deep hue that Lily had selected ran down the side of his trousers, accenting his long legs. If only he could get his hair to cooperate. He dipped his fingers into the basin and began piecing through the veritable rats nest.
The door opened and he addressed Sirius without turning around. "That was quick Padfoot. What did you do, fly through the corridors?"
"It's not Sirius, James," an impossible voice said.
James spun around so fast that the tail of robes flapped into the mirror. He gaped at the figure standing just in front of the closed door. The man was tall, with dark brown hair, and the same brown/green eyes as James. He was clad in a tweed suite that was a far cry from the jeans and t-shirts that James remembered from his youth. A half smiled graced the grown features of his brother.
"Rupert," James stuttered, his brain unable to come to terms with what his eyes had registered. He hadn't seen Rupert in six years, thinking that his brother had been lost to the dark magic he'd used. "Wh...what are you doing here?"
"It's considered bad taste to miss a family member's wedding," Rupert said, the way he spoke even different from the belligerent tone he'd once used . "And I have a gift for you." He held out an envelop to James and the wizard grasped it numbly.
He starred at the brother he'd thought lost and fought for what to do next. "You look different," he observed.
"I am different," Rupert said softly. "I can't stay long, but I wanted to see you" His laughter was light, as he eyed James. "You've grown so much, I wouldn't have recognized you."
James felt cheated that Rupert would be staying and angry that he'd come at all. "I'm not fifteen any more, Rupert. Have you seen Mum and Dad?"
"No!" Rupert snapped, his voice rising for the first time. "I mean, I'm not quite ready for that. They don't know I'm here. And I'd like it to stay that way."
James snorted. "Well, funnily enough this isn't about what you want, Rupert. Do you have any idea how worried they've been about you. Dad's had a few Aurors looking out for you and Mum was in tears for weeks after you left, but apparently that doesn't phase you."
"I know about the Aurors and I'm sorry about Mum," Rupert said soothingly, his voice husky with emotion. "I wanted to come home."
"Then why didn't you?" James accused. There was so much hurt and anger brimming inside of him that it threatened to overwhelm him. This was his wedding day he was supposed to be giddy with anticipation as he had been moments ago, not rehashing old wounds.
Rupert removed his glasses and pulled out a handkerchief to polish them. It was the first time James had noticed them, Rupert had always refused to wear glasses in the past. "I needed time. When Ethan and I departed ways I was still very strung out on the magic. It took nearly a year for me to get to the point where my blood didn't scream for it."
This gave James pause, his anger dousing to bitter embers. "You left Ethan?"
Rupert nodded replacing his glasses on his strong face. "I did a couple months after I left home. It's a long complicated story but I eventually realized my folly."
"Where have you been, Rupert? That was years ago. Why come now?" James felt the words pass through his throat like sandpaper. And when did Rupert start using words like 'folly'?
"I've been studying, James. I'm a Watcher now. I expect I'll be assigned a potential in the near future," Rupert surprised him a second time.
"A Watcher? But I thought you hated it?" The wizards head was turning with all this new information.
A certain haunted expression past through Rupert's eyes. "Part of me still does, but it's my destiny James. Just as it's yours to be a wizard. I can't walk away from it, I tried and I failed." He studied his feet for a moment before returning his gaze to James. "This world is in danger and I want to be part of those that protect it. I need to be."
"At least let them know you're safe," James tried again, knowing how stubborn Rupert could be. Except as he gazed at his brother, his quiet demeanor and that haunted look in his eyes, James realized that this wasn't the brother he knew. This was a man both hardened and softened by experience. "Dad blames himself for you leaving."
"I will," Rupert assured him. "But this is your day, James. I won't intrude upon it.
Then James did something that startled the both of them. He flung himself at his brother, wrapping his arms tightly around the stockier frame, filling the muscles that lay under it. Rupert clapped his own around his brother, pounding his back.
"Please don't go again," James whispered.
Rupert pulled back, uncomfortable with the show of emotion. "I have to."
" James...." That was when the door flung open and Sirius bounded in with good-nature until he saw that James was not alone. A low growl emitted from him as he glared at Rupert. "What is he doing here?"
"It's also a pleasure to see you again, Sirius," Rupert replied with a touch of his past asperity.
"Get out," Sirius growled. "You aren't welcomed here."
A feral grin spread over Rupert's face. "Do you fancy you can make me leave, Black?"
Before Sirius could pull out his wand, James stepped between the two. The stranger that was his brother and the friend who was just as good as a brother. "He was just leaving, Sirius. It's alright."
His friend's dark eyes burrowed into Rupert and if looks could curse, Rupert would have been defenseless. "Are you sure about this, James?"
James nodded, watching as Rupert headed for the door. "Remember what I told you James," he said and he exited as suddenly as he had come.
"The nerve of that prat, coming here after everything he put your family through," Sirius raved. "You should have let me take care of him."
James didn't pay attention to Sirius' rants. He had heard them in his head the whole time that Rupert was here, but there was a tinier voice, one that had stayed with him for six years that was crying joyfully to know that his brother was not dead. That he'd left the dark magic behind and was now fighting that darkness.
Abruptly, he remembered the envelope as the weight in his hands. He opened it up and found a few galleons inside, apparently Rupert no longer worried about his place in the magically world. There was also a letter , written in tiny, precise script. He pulled it out and opened it and saw that it was on Watcher Council letterhead with Rupert's name etched at the top.
Dear James,
I hope one day you and our parents might be able to forgive the pain I put you through. I won't make excuses for my behavior because there are none. In time I hope that you can come to think of me as not only your brother by blood but as a part of your family.
We both know that magic in this world is dangerous, whether it come by wand or other means. If you ever find yourself in that type of danger you can reach me at the address on this letterhead. Or the Council can direct you to where I'll be.
While I'm writing this, I've just seen you and Lily pass by and I must say you've done well for yourself, though we've never had the same taste in women. Maybe one day you'll tell her about me. Or maybe we'll meet one day. Again that's all contingent upon what you desire.
I won't force my way back into your life, James. There was a trust broke between us and I know that the fault lies on me. Take care of yourself, James.
Your Brother,
Rupert Jayson Giles
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Harry couldn't sleep. For once it wasn't because the oppressing heat nor the fact that Ron was snoring loudly at his side. He could hear Uncle Rupert wondering around the flat, pouring through his books. Professor Lupin hadn't returned yet from walking Buffy and the others home and Hermione had fallen asleep in the guest room. Lupin would be taking the hide-away bed once again.
What was keeping him up was the memory of seeing his uncle, down on all fours, gazing fondly upon the stag patronus that Harry had been told was the spitting image of his father's animagus form. There had been so much pain and longing, making the truth of his uncle's previous loneliness abruptly painful.
He didn't want to return to Hogwarts in two weeks. He felt foolish because he knew that Buffy, Xander, and Willow would all be there to keep him company, but he wanted to be the one that was there in his uncle's life. And wanted Rupert to be in his own.
At his side, Ron snorted with extra fervor and rolled further away towards the edge of the bed. With a frustrated sigh, Harry tore the covers from him and levered himself out of the bed. Thankfully, Ron didn't stir. He padded his way out of his room and into the living room, grateful for the coolness against his bare legs. He had started wearing shorts and a t-shirt to bed, his usual pajamas just too warm for the Sunnydale climate.
He found Uncle Rupert in the kitchen, a carafe of scotch in front of him with a glass already poured. There were books all in front of him and softly in the background, Harry could hear music playing, something with a lot of guitar. Harry thought it sounded familiar, that possibly Uncle Vernon had played it on those rare occasions he allowed Aunt Petunia's favorites. It had a haunting, lilting quality that he enjoyed. One of the few things he'd ever found he had in common with his mother's sister.
Uncle Rupert looked up, somehow instantly recognizing his presence. "Can't sleep?" he asked gently. "I could fix you some tea if you'd like?"
"No, that's alright, Uncle Rupert. I'd rather have hot chocolate," he said, coming further into the kitchen.
"There aren't any residual effects from the Dementors, are there?" his uncle asked concerned.
Harry shrugged. "No, it's not that. Just can't seem to quiet my mind."
"It's been a busy day," Uncle Rupert agreed business like as though he ran a shop and they'd just had a tough sale.
Harry ran water into a kettle and placed it on the stove. "What are you doing still up? The Dementors were circling around you. You should get some sleep too."
Uncle Rupert picked up his glass of scotch and knocked it back. "Research," he answered. "Need to find a way to keep Voldemort away from you. I have to keep the bastard from taking the last family I have left." Harry realized that his previous softness had been used to mask the slur in his speech.
"But the spell?" Harry said, his hand waving vaguely in the vicinity of his forehead. They had performed the ritual of Filla two nights ago, before Voldemort could break through it. The older the spell the weaker it became.
"It won't last forever, we both know that," Uncle Rupert said, sloshing more scotch into his cup. "And you'll be returning to school."
The kettle whistled then, saving Harry from an answer. He pulled his chocolate from the cupboard and a mug to mix it in. He saw down at the table, stirring the hot chocolate absently. "Let me help, Uncle Rupert."
"Help?" the Watcher asked sharply. "I'm supposed to help you, Harry. I didn't help James and now he's dead. I should have stayed, should have been there."
Harry shook his head. "There was nothing that you could have done, Uncle Rupert. Voldemort...if he wants to kill someone, he can't be stopped. And if you had been there, I would be alone right now."
"I never knew," Uncle Rupert muttered deceptively calm now. "Never knew."
Uncle Rupert's grief was keen, Harry could feel it mingle with his own. For Rupert Giles it was better to think that James had wanted nothing to do with him then to think that his brother had been ruthlessly murdered. Harry swallowed down his own grief at what might have been if his parents had lived, and focused on the grief of his uncle who had to come to terms with his brother's death just as quickly and mercilessly as Harry had himself.
"Didn't know what?" he asked gently, trying pull his uncle's fingers for the most recent book.
"If they could have forgiven me. I was so wrong, Harry. So wrong," the Watcher said, shaking his head, the glass of scotch forgotten in his hands. "I wanted to show them." He giggled derisively. "That I wasn't useless, that I could fight against the darkness as I was meant to. But I was afraid."
"Uncle Rupert don't torture yourself with this," Harry started to condone "I'm sure my dad would have forgiven you. He would have needed you like I do."
A drunken smile spread over his uncle's features, wide and slack-jawed. The doorbell rang then and Uncle Rupert turned to face it. "Must be, Remus. Forgotten his key."
He stood up then weak-knee and wobbly and made a jagged line to the door. Harry watched him with a sense of relief. Professor Lupin would know what to do, where Harry was quite lost with Uncle Rupert's sudden sense of loss. He barely knew how to work out his own and he'd never known James Potter or Lily Evans, not as family.
"Remus you can just wal..." Uncle Rupert's words drew off as Harry caught the sight of a wand poking past the door.
Harry leapt from his seat, pulling for his own wand as he saw the barrier of the other. It was a face that had killed before, was responsible for the wrongful imprisonment of his godfather, and the death of his parents. And now had the wand pointed at the only family Harry had ever known.
"Peter Pettigrew."