A/N: Very, very AU, reason explained below. Please note: There will be no R/S in this fic, however much I love the pairing. Sorry...
Diclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. Romeo and Juliet belongs to Shakespeare.
Turnabout
1- The Fairest Stars
"Please, sir, let him go! He's been dreaming of this his whole life, even before he was bitten... You have to let him come!"
Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, frowned slightly as he watched the woman before him. He had been trying to put this off as long as possible, knowing what his decision would have to be.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. There was a moment of silence as the woman stared at him, eyes wide with shock. Then the sobbing- Oh, how he hated this part. He leaned back in his chair, eyes closed. A small part of him wished that he could take it back, ignore the Board, smile gently and say 'of course your son may come to Hogwarts, we would love him here!', show the small child to the library, pointing out the best books, being the old father-figure like he was for the thousands of other children in his school.
Of course that wouldn't happen.
A small voice from the corner piped up worriedly : "Mum, does this mean I can't go?" Light brown eyes peered out from the top of the book he cradled in his arms like a shield, and Albus felt more hideous than he had for a very long time. The woman bit her lip, staring at the floor as salty tears ran down her face. One nod- enough conformation for the boy. "Oh." A soft voice, unsure, confused. Even with out occlumency, Albus could guess what was going through his mind: What did I do wrong? Why aren't they letting me in?
"Thank you, Professor," the woman said in a choked voice, still glaring at the floorboards. "Come, John. We'll be late for Father." She held out her hand, and the child took it, glancing back doubtfully at Dumbledore as they left the room, the woman's small sobs magnified by the wide entryway to his office. Then he disappeared as the spiral staircase drew them down, out of his rooms, out of his castle, out of his life.
"Damn," muttered Albus Dumbledore, rubbing his temples. "Damn."
"It wasn't that bad," muttered Sirius Black rebelliously, shifting in the chair. "He's overreacting, sir. You know how Filch is."
"Yes, indeed," Albus Dumbledore said softly, surveying the student before him. "He says that he found you dangling Severus from a- chandelier, was it? And eyewitnesses said that this had been going on for fifteen minutes before he found you- Really, he's making a mountain out of a molehill, correct, Mr. Black?"
Sirius glared at the Headmaster's desk. "It was his fault," he mumbled. Dumbledore nodded.
"And yet, this is the fifth time this month Mr. Filch has sent you to me for manhandling Snape. Surely it wasn't his fault all of these times."
"He provoked me." Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "He called Peter a mudblood."
"But surely it would be for Mr. Pettigrew to... exact revenge, if you will?" Dumbledore pressed, staring intently at Sirius. The tall boy said nothing.
Dumbledore sighed. "I'm at a loss for what to do, Mr. Black. You say that you were defending your friend, and yet you have resorted to violent means to do so. While it could be taken as a noble gesture, I'm afraid here it must be punished. I could turn you over to Minerva-" he chuckled slightly at Sirius' expression of horror- "Although I'm sure that would end in both of you being killed. Perhaps..." He was silent for a moment. Sirius stared at him, wondering if the professor was going to have him hang from the dungeons or something equally horrible. At last the old man spoke.
"You have no doubt heard of the Werewolf Protection Act?" he asked. Sirius nodded- everyone had. Three months ago, as a result of the violence done to werewolves who had refused to join that dark wizard Voldemort, the Ministry had decided to round up all the werewolves in England and re-locate them to different 'centers' located around the England and Scotland. There was one nearby, he had heard, maybe a little ways off of Hogsmede, but they weren't allowed to go down to the village now without Professor supervision. He and James had been planning a trip there, but the Chaser had fallen ill, and Peter was in detention with Slughorn for the next three weeks for melting all the caldrons in a recent Potions class, and what was the fun in going alone? He turned his attention back to Dumbledore.
"Well, the Ministry has discovered that there are more children werewolves than they had accounted for. They created a special center for children only, run by volunteers, but those are scarce. Obviously, they are concerned about the effect that staying cooped up in one of these Centers may have on them, so they have decided to appoint people to go in once a week, talking to the children, playing with them, basically being a friend. Are you following me, Mr. Black?"
Sirius felt a growing sense of dread in the pit of his stomach as the full impact of what Dumbledore had said hit him. "You want me," he replied carefully, "to go in and baby-sit a kid werewolf." Dumbledore smiled delightedly.
"Yes, exactly, Mr. Black! I had been considering you for some time, but it seems perfect that you go under the guise of detention. It will solve our problem of getting another volunteer, and also gets you out of detention. You see, killing two birds with one stone!" The headmaster beamed at the black haired boy.
Sirius stared. "Sir, why would I want to go in and watch a little werewolf brat? I hate kids." Dumbledore nodded.
"Yes, and that's why I've appointed you to one of the 'special cases'. You see, your 'friend' will be a teenage werewolf, your age, I believe. John Lupin is his name. He's highly intelligent, and applied to come here, to Hogwarts, seven years ago, but unfortunately the board turned him away." Dumbledore's eyes flashed in a uncommon look of anger. "One of the rare dark spots of my interactions with our Trustees." The moment passed, and his eyes returned to the normal blue. "I believe that you will do quite nicely together. I do hope that it will work out."
Sirius slumped back against the chair. "I don't have much choice, do I?"
"You're catching on, Mr. Black. Now, you'll meet a staff member in the Three Broomsticks this Saturday..."
Three days later, Sirius found himself walking out of Hogsmede in the pouring rain, following a man not much older than him to a house full of rabid werewolves.
"Not much farther!" called the man, smiling broadly. Sirius found himself hating this 'Roger Hanson'. He was too cheerful, too peppy, and far too arrogant. He had greeted Sirius with a handshake and the title 'Roger Hanson, former Ravenclaw and Head Boy of Hogwarts, and Head of the Hogsmede Werewolf Center.' Bastard.
"You've been saying that for the past twenty minutes," called Sirius raggedly, trailing after the bright red mop of hair. Roger ignored him, walking steadily towards the house, his form obscured in the downpour. This continued for ten minutes, Roger stoutly marching through the torrent, Sirius cursing him, Snape, James, werewolves, and Dumbledore for good measure, until there came a shout of "Aha! We're here, Samuel!"
"Sirius," he muttered, stopping beside the beaming man and glaring up at the Center. It was a low, sprawling building, quite obviously constructed with magic, in a light tan color, although Sirius couldn't be sure. The windows were blazing with light, and he could make out small shapes running around within- "The children," Roger explained at his questioning look. "Shall we go in, then? I'm sure you're eager to meet John." Taking Sirius' grunt for agreement, Roger led the way inside.
The entry way was a long hallway, shoes of all sizes scattered haphazardly throughout. There were rooms with tarnished numbers on them leading off the hallway, from which could be heard shouts and squeals of mirth. At the sound of the door slamming shut came screams of "ROGER!", and the patter of feet across wood. Children poured from the doorways, crowding around Roger and laughing.
Roger chuckled and hoisted a small girl of about two into his arms, tickling her. "Did you miss me, Maria?" he asked her. The small girl nodded, sticking her thumb into her mouth. Roger smiled, setting her down. "That's my darlin'," he murmured, ruffling her brown hair. The rest of the children, about thirteen in all, trailed after him as he walked down the hall, all shouting his name.
"Can we go outside now? Sarah wouldn't let us, but you said we could, Roger!"
"Roger, Elias stole my dolly, make him give it back!"
"I didn't, Roger, that was David!"
"Roger, my finger hurts..."
Roger grinned back at Sirius. "They're like ducklings, always following me. Sarah should be watching them... Oh, but you should meet John, shouldn't you? Right. Up the stairs, two doors to the left. Door's probably open." He walked off in a trail of shouting young werewolves, leaving Sirius bewildered.
Deciding he had better get this over with, Sirius started to climb the large stairs, slightly apprehensive. Alone for two hours with a teenage werewolf. Brilliant.
"C'mon, he's not going to come to you, Sirius, so hurry up!" he muttered, taking the stairs two at a time. Was it... Two doors to the left? Yes, there it was, room 214 according the plaque overhead. Sure enough, the door was slightly ajar. Walking closer, Sirius could hear talking coming from it- was someone else there? Creeping slightly closer, Sirius could just make out the words.
"She speaks, yet she says nothing; what of that" The speaker had a warm, tender voice, saying the words in earnest. "Her eye discourses, I will answer it. I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks." Sirius leaned closer to the door, straining to hear. What the hell was this? It sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite place it... "Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, having some business-" The floorboard on which Sirius stood creaked, and the voice broke off. There was a momentary pang of disappointment in Sirius' gut, which he suppressed quickly.
Composing himself, he entered the room, smiling his winning smile. "Hello, I'm Sirius Black, are you John Lupin?" He brushed a lock of black hair out of his eyes, trying not to grimace. The boy sitting on the bed looked up, brown eyes glaring as he snapped shut Romeo and Juliet.
"I would say come in, but..." he leaned against the wall, surveying Sirius with dark eyes. Sirius grinned slightly.
"Sorry 'bout that. Roger told me to come right in."
The boy nodded, rolling his eyes. "'Course he did. Always one for manners, that one. Are you from the school, then? Are you supposed to be my 'friend'?" His tone was scathing. Sirius found himself at a loss for words. "So why did you sign up?" continued the boy, crossing his legs. "For the thrill of working with a real live werewolf? So you could tell your friends what a freak I am?"
"I-" Sirius began, but the boy cut him off, eyes flashing.
"Or maybe you didn't want to do this at all, hmm? Maybe it was some kind of punishment. You did something wrong, you get sent to the scary werewolf house." He nodded as Sirius lowered his eyes. "Thought so. You don't look like a volunteer type, not like Roger. God, I hate him. I hate this." He gestured around the small room, composed solely of a small bed, a bookshelf stuffed to the brim, and a desk. Sirius stared.
"Look, John, I don't know what I can do, but if there's anything I could do to help..." he began, trying to be friendly to this furious werewolf. John snorted.
"Look, Sirius, or whatever your name is, I don't want to be here. You don't want to be here. Frankly, I don't give a shit about you. You have to come here- fine. Just stay out of my way, okay?" Sirius blinked. What happened to the warm actor from before, who had recited Shakespeare (that was what it was from... Memories of Regulus performing from memory at Christmas flitted across his mind.) with such passion? Evidently, he disappeared in front of other people. John flipped open the play, silently reading and ignoring Sirius.
"Whatever," he muttered, sinking into his shell of 'Sirius Black, aristocrat extraordinaire.' He sat on the floor, glaring at the desk. This was worse than McGonagall- at least with her he would actually be able to do something. 'Stupid bloody werewolf,' he thought angrily, already planning to hex Snape to oblivion later. It was all his damn fault, actually. If he hadn't annoyed Sirius... Why did he have to get stuck with such a conceited werewolf?
"Oh, yeah, one more thing," came the soft voice from the bed. Sirius looked up wearily, ready for more verbal abuse. Instead, he found the brown haired boy studying him, as if curious. "The name's Remus, not John. Remus Lupin."
Love? Condemn? Leave a review!