Chapter Four- Flight of the Fat Lady
A month had passed and Remus had settled into his new routine quite nicely. Though he was still plagued with memories, it was becoming easier to deal with them.
Most of the teachers had stopped complaining about the fact that Dumbledore had hired a werewolf. Remus suspected this had something to do with the fact that McGonagall had made a point to talk to him; she had become a friend.
Unfortunately, Severus was still awful to Remus, who had expected it, but found no pleasure in the man's taunts and insinuations. Snape believed Remus could not be trusted; Remus could not blame Snape, after what Sirius had done… but that was a long time ago. Why does he still care? It was a question that he would probably never know the answer to.
The whole thing with Neville's boggart had only exacerbated Severus' hatred. He was still bullying Neville, which Remus felt awful about. But he was trying not to hate Snape because the Potions master had made the Wolfsbane Potion for him, and he had not had such an easy transformation since before his friends had died.
In fact, it was about time for him to start taking the potion again. He wondered if Severus was making it out of choice or because Dumbledore had asked him. Remus suspected the latter. He knew he had not shown enough gratitude to Snape, but it was hard to thank a person who did not want to be thanked. And the potion was disgusting. What does that matter if it helps? he thought irritably. But it made it difficult to thank Snape for it.
His students, however, had actually missed him the last full moon. He had had to take a day off, which he had protested, but there was no choice in the matter. He had been too tired to sit, let alone stand and teach. He was pleased that most of the students enjoyed his classes. Only the Slytherins, led by that Draco Malfoy, disliked him. Well, I saw that one coming, he thought to himself over and over, knowing that it was a huge achievement that most of the students liked him. But Remus had a need to be liked. Even though he tried to ignore that need, telling himself that no one could be liked by everybody, he couldn't help but wonder if they would all one day find out what he was and hate him for it.
---
Remus sat at his desk about a week before the full moon, staring at the massive pile of essays he needed to grade before Halloween. He wasn't planning on going into Hogsmeade; he really had no reason to go, but he knew that if he finished them he would have less to do after the full moon.
He was interrupted by a knock on the open door. He looked up and smiled at McGonagall.
"Do you mind if I come in?" she asked.
Remus shook his head. Any distraction was welcome. When did I become such a procrastinator? he asked as he gave himself a mental shrug.
McGonagall closed the door behind her and sat. She was quiet for a moment, and then said, "I haven't seen you in the staffroom lately, Remus. What have you been up to?"
"Grading essays," he replied. "I used to think that teachers assigned essays to waste students' time. Now I realize that they do it to waste their own time." They both chuckled.
A moment later she looked slightly worried. "Potter seems a bit depressed. Have you noticed anything?"
"He hasn't said anything, not that I would expect it; but he has been awfully quiet," Remus replied thoughtfully.
"Did I tell you that Sibyll Trelawney predicted Potter's death in the tea leaves this year?" McGonagall asked Remus with a slight twist to her smile.
"No, you simply told me that she likes to predict students' deaths and that I shouldn't worry if anyone mentioned it." Remus said.
"Well, it's Potter this year," McGonagall repeated. "And what with that whole thing with Black… I'm sure you've heard about that, Remus."
His face closed. "Yes, I had heard." He looked at McGonagall, concerned. "But I didn't think Harry knew about that."
"I just wonder if he might put it together if she keeps going on about it," McGonagall said worriedly. "But he might just be upset because his aunt and uncle didn't sign his permission form."
"What?" Remus asked sharply. "He can't go to Hogsmeade?"
"No, I'm afraid not," McGonagall replied, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "He asked me for permission, and I said I couldn't give it to him. What with Black… I think it might be better this way."
Remus sighed and shook his head. "Then that's why he's upset."
McGonagall gave Remus a questioning look.
"The whole of third year is talking about this trip into Hogsmeade, and Harry's the only one who can't go. Of course he'd be upset by that. But I agree it might be for the best, with Black and all…"
McGonagall nodded. "Well then, if you're sure that that's it, I'll leave you to your essays."
"Oh, thank you. I've just been waiting to hear you say that," Remus told her with mock cheer.
She grinned. "If you need a break from whatever the topic is come find me. I've been meaning to ask you if you remember how James managed to explode that Shrinking Solution in your third year."
"Ah, yes." Remus' eyes glittered mischievously. "That was a highly guarded secret that was." He shook his head as he smiled. "I'll talk to you later Prof—Minerva."
She nodded and left him to his papers. He found it harder to concentrate, however. Every time Black was mentioned, even by Dumbledore, Remus couldn't help but wonder if they suspected him. But he was being unfair. Dumbledore wouldn't have hired him if he didn't trust him. Just get on with it, Moony, he thought to himself. Only Severus has outright accused you. As long as no one else says it out loud you can't suspect them. Just give them a chance and get over it. Why do you worry so much?
But he knew he worried because right after Sirius had betrayed everyone he had been branded by association. He wasn't eager to repeat the experience. And, to be honest, he didn't quite trust himself to hate Sirius if they met. Yes, Sirius had betrayed them all, but Remus had forgiven him for that prank sixth year. He could have killed Snape because of Sirius, and Remus had forgiven him. He knew he worried now because he could not guarantee that he would not find himself forgiving Sirius again.
---
Halloween came all too soon. Remus sat grading his almost complete pile of essays when he heard footsteps outside his office. Curious, and in dire need of a break from kappas (the topic of the essays he was currently grading) he stood up and walked to the door.
He was surprised to see Harry. Today was the Hogsmeade trip… McGonagall told me that Harry couldn't go. The boy looked distracted, as though he didn't really know where he was going or what he was doing. Remus surprised himself as he said, "Harry?"
Harry turned around.
"What are you doing?" he asked curiously. "Where are Ron and Hermione?" Stupid question, he thought. Of course they're in Hogsmeade. Another part of him responded, Yes, but that wasn't too bad for a conversation starter. Had Harry not been standing there, Remus would have rolled his eyes at his thoughts. He often found one part of him annoyed with the other half, rather like he had often found himself annoyed at his friends. He figured that part of him was very like them in a way that he would never understand.
"Hogsmeade," Harry said, trying to sound off-hand, as though he didn't care.
"Ah," Remus said looking at Harry. "Why don't you come in? I've just taken delivery of a grindylow for our next lesson." In fact, he had gotten the grindylow a couple days ago, but only Dumbledore and McGonagall knew that.
"A what?" Harry asked as he followed Remus into his office.
"Water demon," Remus said watching the grindylow for a moment. "We shouldn't have much difficulty with him, not after the kappas." He rambled on for a moment about the grindylow, thinking that he was now justified in teaching third years about basic dark creatures. Snape may have said he was going easy on them, but Harry had just proved that they didn't know that much about the dangerous, if easily dealt with, magical creatures.
"Cup of tea?" he asked suddenly as the grindylow buried itself in a tangle of weeds inside its tank. "I was just thinking of making one."
"All right," Harry said awkwardly, as Remus cursed silently. Where is that stupid kettle? It has to be here somewhere—ah. There it is. Maybe I should consider cleaning this mess. But Remus believed in organized clutter; it was a bad habit he had picked up from Peter.
Remus tapped the kettle with his wand and the water boiled. "Sit down," he told Harry as he took the lid off his rather dusty tin of tea. "I've only got teabags, I'm afraid—" he suddenly remembered what McGonagall had told him about Harry's tea leaves "—but I daresay you've had enough of tea leaves?"
He smiled as Harry looked at him, and his eyes twinkled mischievously.
"How do you know about that?" Harry asked.
"Professor McGonagall told me," he said, handing Harry a chipped mug of tea. "You're not worried, are you?" Might as well find out if McGonagall was right and he is worried about those tea leaves, he thought.
"No," Harry said. But something on his face told Remus that it was the sort of "no" that James used to give when trying to get out of detention.
"Anything worrying you Harry?"
"No," Harry repeated in the same tone. He took a sip of tea and then said, "Yes." He put his tea down on Remus' desk. "You know that day we fought the boggart?"
Now we're getting somewhere. "Yes," Remus said slowly.
"Why didn't you let me fight it?"
Remusraised his eyebrows. So that's part of it. I thought he would have figured that out.
"I would have thought that was obvious, Harry," he said slightly surprised. Harry looked shocked that Remus had admitted to stopping him from fighting the boggart.
"Why?" he asked again.
"Well," Remus said, frowning slightly, "I assumed that if the boggart faced you, it would have assumed the shape of Lord Voldemort."
Harry stared at him. I guess I misjudged him, Remus thought.
"Clearly, I was wrong," he said, still frowning. "But I didn't think it a good idea for Lord Voldemort to materialize in the staffroom. I imagined that people would panic."
"I didn't think of Voldemort," said Harry, surprising Remus. "I—I remembered those dementors."
"I see," Remus said thoughtfully. I definitely misjudged him. "Well, well… I'm impressed." He smiled at the look of surprise on Harry's face. "That suggests that what you fear most of all is—fear. Very wise, Harry."
Harry took another sip of tea and said nothing. Remus had forgotten all about his tea. The mention of the dementors reminded Remus of Harry's collapse and he was struck with a sudden thought.
"So you've been thinking that I didn't believe you capable of fighting the boggart?" he said shrewdly.
"Well… yeah." Harry's mood seemed to lift. "Professor Lupin, you know the dementors—" There was a sharp knock on the door. Remus sighed inwardly.
"Come in," he called.
Severus came in carrying today's dose of Wolfsbane. "Ah, Severus," Remus said, forcing himself to smile. "Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?" he added, hoping to get rid of Snape as soon as possible. Severus didn't seem too pleased to see Harry there, and Remus was sure he knew why. Another reason to say I'm working with Sirius. He'll say I'm telling Harry about Sirius, trying to lower his guard or something… quite the opposite, in all actuality.
Snape was looking between Remus and Harry with a look in his eyes that Remus didn't like.
"I was just showing Harry my grindylow," he said, keeping his voice friendly as he pointed at the tank.
"Fascinating," said Snape, disinterestedly. "You should drink that directly, Lupin.
"Yes, yes, I will," Remus said, impatient for Severus to leave.
"I made an entire cauldronful," Snape added, "if you need more."
"I should probably take some again tomorrow. Thanks very much, Severus." He meant it as a dismissal, forgetting that Severus liked to have the last word.
"Not at all," the Potions master said, and Remus was certain that he didn't really mean that. Snape backed out of the room, as if he was trying to take as much time as possible in hopes that he would hear some of Remus and Harry's conversation.
Harry looked curiously at the goblet as soon as Snape had gone.
"Professor Snape has kindly concocted a potion for me," Remus said, smiling in hopes of covering the animosity that Snape had shown. "I have never been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly complex." Which is unfortunately the truth. He picked it up and sniffed it. "Pity sugar makes it useless," he added, more to himself than to Harry as he took a sip and shuddered at the taste.
"Why—" Harry began, but stopped. Remus looked up, wondering if he hadn't finished the question because he didn't want to be nosy. James would have asked anyway, he thought.
"I've been feeling a bit off-color," he said, knowing as he said it how lame it sounded. Sirius had been the one who could tell very good lies off the top of his head. "This potion is the only thing that helps. I am very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren't many wizards who are up to making it." The words left as bad a taste in his mouth as the next gulp of potion. He hated being dependant on Severus, even though he needed the Wolfsbane.
"Professor Snape's very interested in the Dark Arts," Harry said suddenly.
And what has that gotto do with anything? "Really?" Remus said, barely interested as he took another gulp of the awful potion.
"Some people reckon—" Harry hesitated, "some people reckon he'd do anything to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts job."
Ah. But it's nothing I didn't already know. Remus chose to finish the potion in one last, long gulp rather than say anything. He made a face.
"Disgusting," he said. "Well, Harry, I'd better get back to work. I'll see you at the feast later." He didn't want to lie any more than he had to, and to do that he had to head off anymore questions Harry could ask about the potion. Trust Severus to time it most inconveniently.
"Right," said Harry, putting down his teacup.
---
Remus sighed as he headed down to the feast. While he had learned a lot from Harry that afternoon, he knew that Severus' untimely arrival had made Harry curious, and he was sure to tell Ron and Hermione about it.
What's the use in worrying? If they figure anything out—no, they can't. I didn't give him that much information.
He sighed again, before taking a seat next to Flitwick, another of his old professors. Flitwick engaged him in a long conversation about a difficult charm, and Remus gladly accepted the distraction from his thoughts.
He watched the ghosts' performance at the end of the feastwith interest; they had never done that at any of the Halloween feasts he'd attended at school.
As the feast ended, Remus wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed, but he felt uneasy, and headed for his office to see if he had left anything undone. McGonagall intercepted him.
"Remus, something feels wrong. Did you notice it? You've always been extremely perceptive."
"I did happen to notice," he said. They began to make a quick check of the main parts of the castle. They were joined by Severus, to both Remus' and Severus' displeasure.
As the three reached the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, they saw a huge crowd of students and Dumbledore. The portrait of the Fat Lady that was the entrance to the Gryffindor common room had been viciously slashed, and the Fat Lady was gone.
"We need to find her," Dumbledore said, referring to the Fat Lady. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."
"You'll be lucky!" a cackling voice shouted. Remus wrinkled his nose. It was Peeves. Of course he would be here. He loves destruction.
Remus' stomach sank as Dumbledore questioned Peeves and the Poltergeist's voice became more cheerful. Somehow Remus knew what was coming even before Peeves said the attacker's name, but it still hit him hard to hear, in Peeves grinning voice, "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."
