Chapter Nineteen
The trip to Diagon Alley was as uneventful as you could get for being Azalea Potter. Since the missive in the newspaper, she had started garnering the attention of the eye of the public. Thankfully it was in the middle of the week, during the school year. There were little to no students or parents with children getting prepared for the school year, as it had already started months ago. The only people milling around that early in the market were older witches and wizards that were there with a purpose in mind, not there to gawk at other patrons. Azalea was relieved at that.
The bell above the door to Flourish and Blotts jingled loudly in her ears as she entered, with Grandpa Arcturus in front of her and Auntie Cassiopeia right behind her, keeping her firmly sandwiched. She looked at them for permission, and with a quick nod, went over to where the blank journals and ledgers were being displayed. After some quick browsing, she found one suitable enough for her liking. It was a smooth black dragon hide journal with thick blank parchment sheets inside of it, with a red ribbon attached at the spine to help keep her place in the book. The journal clasped with a black string that wrapped twice around the book and fastened with a small black tack button.
"Can I get this one? It's perfect for what I need." Azalea asked, after checking the price of two galleon coins exactly.
"Absolutely. Here, use this to go pay for it." Arcturus said as he pulled out a small leather pouch of coins. He did not want her using her vault's money until he knew exactly how much and what and where her money was ending up. After he passed her over the wallet of coins, she went promptly to the front of the store and waited in the short line for her turn to go up and pay. Soon enough it was her turn, and she approached the woman behind the counter.
"Hello dearie, did you find everything you needed today?" The kindly woman asked.
"Yes I did, thank you. I just came in for a new journal." Azalea said, making polite conversation. She was mentally trying to track the time, seeing as she didn't want to be late for her meeting. She trusted her Grandpa and Auntie to make sure she wouldn't. Azalea froze at that thought. She trusted them enough. She trusted them. A slow spreading smile crossed her face. She was dissolved from her thoughts at the interruption from the woman.
"That will be two Galleons and a Sickle with tax."
Azalea nodded and opened up the coin purse, removing the three needed coins. They were shiny in her hand, you could tell they were genuine Goblin made coins.
"Here you go ma'am." Azalea said ever the polite little girl she was being raised to be. Respect was important to her.
The woman smiled down at her, and wrapped the journal in plain brown paper and tied white twine around it to secure it in place, before passing it over to her.
"Here you are dearie. Enjoy the rest of your day!" She said in greeting.
Azalea nodded and thanked the woman before heading back to where Arcturus was watching her like a hawk. She didn't mind; she felt protected by him. Azalea never before meeting him and his sister, her Auntie Cia, felt so loved and protected in her life. It was a nice feeling, not one she would easily get used to.
With five minutes to spare, they made it to Gringotts bank and stepped inside. Much like any other time, Azalea was slightly overwhelmed by the commotion of the bank. It was still early in the day and a weekday at that, but there were plenty of witches and wizards bustling about. She nearly walked into her great uncle Arcturus when he stopped walking, but a gentle hand on the small of her back stopped her from stumbling forward into him. She turned around to her auntie Cassiopeia and smiled softly in a silent thanks.
"My ward has a meeting with Posionclaw, as per their request. I am to chaperone her, as her rightful head of house."
"And the woman behind you? This is a highly unusual situation to be in." Griphook stated amused, although you couldn't tell unless you could read the stoic goblin's face.
"Indeed. I am her magical guardian, as per the blood adoption ritual performed here at this very bank."
"You will both be granted access to this meeting this time seeing as the witch in question is still underage, but it will be up to the decision of heiress Potter-Black-Rosier-Peverell from therefore on in. Snapjaw will lead you to his office. Level six, office nine." Griphook said as he snapped his fingers and Snapjaw appeared.
They arrived through the winding halls of Gringotts to the office in question and Snapjaw knocked once sharply on the door.
"You may enter." A rough snarling voice snapped out.
Azalea had a pit of dread in her stomach already. She just knew this wouldn't end well, this meeting, but she didn't know why. Unconsciously, she took a small step backward and grasped her Auntie's hand in comfort. Cassiopeia looked down at the smaller hand in hers and gently gave the girl a fond squeeze to show her the tit would be ok.
"Ahh Heiress Azalea Potter-Black-Rosier-Peverell. I had been wondering if and when I would be seeing you step foot in this office. I am unsurprised to say at the very least, at your entourage of people with you today. Good afternoon Lord Black, Lady Black." Poisonclaw said with a nod to Arcturus and Cassiopeia. "Shall we begin this meeting? I have begun to investigate into the matters that you have requested of Lord Black. As we speak there is a full audit happening within the Potter vaults, but the preliminary results are in, and they are very grim. It is worse than you suspected; there are very suspicious activities happening within and from vaults 119, 178, 234, as well as vault 12 and vault 8. Her previous guardian had been visiting and removing artifacts as well as precious family heirlooms from the vaults. There were also significant withdrawals from those vaults in question. We won't know how much was taken or exactly what was taken until the audit is completed, and we compare the itemized reports, but we are suspecting the absolute worst has indeed happened." He informed the three of them grimly. Someone who was trusted had been stealing from an orphaned child. It just wasn't a done thing.
Azalea wasn't quite sure what an audit was, but she knew it couldn't be good. She would have to ask grandpa Arcturus exactly what it meant when the meeting was over. For now, she just stayed silent and watched her guardians' faces for a reaction as to gain context to the situation. So far their faces were neutral, but her aunt's face was very telling. It wasn't good to say the very least.
"I see. I want a full written report and I want it itemized, so I can review it and compare it to the ledgers on hand from when the will was written. I want every artifact returned within half a fortnight and I want every galleon, every sickle, every single knut returned immediately with interest. This is a grevious miscarriage of justice at the hands of Albus Dumbledore against my heiress and I will not tolerate his thievery against her." Arcturus said in a slightly raised voice, the only tell of how upset he really was becoming. Internally Arcturus was seething in anger at one man in particular. Albus Dumbledore had done many things for the 'greater good' as he always said, but this was crossing a line way too far to come back from. Arcturus Black had always been wary, always skeptical of the man even when he was a boy in school, back when Albus was the Transfiguration Professor. He favored whoever he deemed 'light' and discriminated against any known dark wizarding family, or anyone he ever even perceived to be dark in nature. Seeing how Arcturus was a member of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, Albus never tolerated him, even with his very own uncle being the Headmaster at the time. No, Albus Dumbledore left a sour taste and bad thoughts left in his head and heart.
"Yes Lord Black. It is a grievous error on our parts, and it will be dealt with on our part right away. We have notified the Wizengamont of this breach of duty and theft of properties."
"See that they contact me right away. I want this dealt with properly, and I want it dealt with right away. I will not tolerate theft from a child, let alone my heiress."
With that, the meeting was deemed to be over and Arcturus rose up from his seat, and with a nod to Cassiopeia and Azalea to signal it was time to leave, exited the room. The two followed shortly behind him. They walked to the aperation point, and it wasn't until they got back to Black Manor that Arcturus showed any emotion. The wind whipped around them outside, uncharacteristically for the weather that day. Arcturus was angry, no, he was down right furious and the weather responded to his out pour of magic. How dare anyone steal from his granddaughter?! It wasn't until he felt small arms pull gently circle around his waist that he started to calm down.
Azalea did not know what was going on during the meeting, she didn't understand most of the words the goblin was saying but judging by how angry her Grandpa Arcturus was getting, she knew it wasn't good. Azalea was a smart girl. She knew someone had done something wrong. It wasn't until after they returned back to the Manor that Azalea understood exactly how furious her grandpa was. The skies darkened, and the wind began to whip around her, blowing her long black hair into her face and eyes. Thunder began to roll off in the distance, and she knew she had to do something to calm him down. She called out to him, but he didn't hear her, still lost in his own dark thoughts. So that left only one thing to do in her eyes. Long ago, she might have been terrified at the anger rolling off the man in waves, but this was her Grandpa. This was her great uncle Arcturus, the man who wouldn't ever hurt her, even by accident. She went up to him, and wrapped her small arms around his waist in a tight hug, something he had always done to her to comfort her when she was upset or angry. He stiffened at first, and gazed down at the girl in front of him. She was his whole world, his pride and joy. Here he was, angry on her behalf, and she was still comforting him when it should be the other way around. He relaxed into her arms, and hugged her back, sighing. The storm around him died down, the wind stopped bending the tree branches back and forth.
"Thank you, Azalea. It seems I didn't notice how upset I truly was getting." Arcturus sighed out, ruffling the child's messed up hair.
"It's okay Grandpa. You didn't mean to get that upset, sometimes it just happens sometimes. All we have to do is close our eyes and take a deep breath and count to five, remember?" Azalea beamed up at him.
"That's right kiddo. I see you remembered, maybe I should remember my own words too."
Arcturus couldn't help but fall more and more in love with her. She reminded him so much of his own children, and grandchildren, but she was so different. She was a breath of fresh air, sunshine on a cold windy day. Everything that the small girl had gone through, all the abuse and turmoil and hardships she had experienced in her lifetime, way more than any adult should go through let alone a kid, and yet she was so happy, so positive, so bubbly in personality. He adored her.
"You amaze me, you know that Azalea?" Arcturus said as the three of them quietly made their way back into the Manor.
"What are you talking about?" She asked him confused.
"Nothing kiddo. I love you." He said with a fond smile.
"I love you too Grandpa. Now, is it lunchtime yet? I'm hungry!" Azalea asked as she stepped through the front doors.
"I do believe it shall be in about an hour. Theo and Neville should still be in their respective lessons. Would you like to play in your room or study for the time being?" Cassiopeia said as she led them into the Green Parlor.
"I want to go to my room, but I won't be playing. Can I practice the meditation again like I did this morning, pretty please?" Azalea said with big puppy dog eyes.
"Sure you can. I'll send Zilly up to gather you in an hour or so when Theo and Neville return for lunch. We can have it in the back gardens today, if the weather keeps up." Cassiopeia couldn't help but give in when Azalea gave her that look.
"Thank you!" And Azalea was off up the stairs to her bed chambers.
"Don't run, you'll trip and fall!" Arcturus called out after the girl, shaking his head. She really was determined to master that new skill. She was the same as she always was, completely unbothered by the world around her.
Azalea went up to her room, slowing down as she got closer to the location, and entered her room, bouncing onto her bed belly flop style. She wanted to meditate to try to see the soulbond again, and maybe make it clearer to her in the process. She sat like she had before, crossed legged on her bed and placed her palms face up on either knee. Going through the now familiar routine, she practiced her measured breathing with ease. In, hold, out, hold. In, hold, out, hold. On and on she went, with her eyes shut, letting her mind wander as she did, but not focusing on one thing for too long. Like last time, she primarily focused on the feeling she had felt before that morning, and the feeling she felt the day before when the bond had snapped. It took quite a bit of time, and she was left covered in a sheen of sweat, panting, but she was starting to become successful.
Like last time, all she could see at first were swirls of colors in the darkness of her mindscape, only this time she forced herself to keep her eyes shut tightly. Logically she knew she wouldn't get much further than where she got this morning, as she was still rather new at it, but she wanted to try anyway. Azalea was the kind of person that when she put her mind to it, she became very determined to achieve her goal. This was no different. Eventually a pop sounded off in her room pulling her out of her mindscape completely. She snapped her eyes open at the intrusion of her meditation and she smiled fondly.
"Hello Zilly!"
"Zilly is being asked to summon Miss Azalea for lunchtime with Heirs Nott and Longbottom and Lady Cassiopeia." Zilly squeaked out in her strangely soft but loud voice.
"Thank you Zilly!" Azalea said as the house elf in question popped away. She meandered out of her room and down to the dining hall, and plopped down in a set between Theo and Neville, as was her customary seat to sit in. The dining table sat three on either side with one on each end, but usually Grandpa Arcturus and Auntie Cia sat on one side, with Lady Augusta sometimes joining in, and she sat on the other side, in between her big brother Theo, and Neville.
While Azalea was eating lunch, Arcturus was busy behind the scenes. He had gone back to Diagon Alley, this time alone. This was a serious matter that Arcturus did not want Azalea knowing about quite yet. Sirius Black was innocent, yes, but he was also Azalea's godfather, and while he did indeed love his grandson, the man was most likely going to be damaged from the time spent in Azkaban. Sirius Black had the very high probability of being mentally unfit to be in Azalea's life, let alone her magical guardian as he rightfully could claim. Arcturus needed to prevent that from happening; it was in his best interest to do so. He needed to protect Azalea from any further harm that might have come to her.
Unfortunately that meant going back to where he was before. He needed to head back to Gringotts bank. Arcturus stepped out of Diagon Alley where he flooed to, and gazed around at the market. Yule would be coming before they knew it, as well as Theo's tenth birthday. Arcturus planned on getting the boy his wand early, as he did with his son, and as his son did with his own sons. It was a Black family tradition that he intended to pass on to his ward, as he would be doing the same for Azalea. He would have to talk to Augusta about doing the same for Neville, as they all had their tutoring lessons together for the most part. It would make things simpler in the long run of it.
Arcturus strode purposefully through the alley, intent on making it to the bank when someone collided with him. He gracefully planted his magic firmly at his feet and stood his ground; it would be unbecoming of him to be knocked to the dirty ground after all. The other person was not as quick thinking it seemed. He fell backwards onto the cobbled street on his rear end. Arcturus took this time to look at who had run into him, quite literally. It was Remus Lupin. This ought to be an interesting encounter.
Remus looked up at who he had run into in his haste to get through the alley way. Oh dear, it was Lord Black.
"Lord Black, please I must apologize for the incident. I was careless in where I was going, it will not happen again. Forgive me Lord Black, but I must be going." Remus said as he gathered himself up and dusted himself off. Before Arcturus could even form a sentence, the man had quite literally run off in the direction Arcturus had just come from. Odd, that man was very odd. Either way, he wasn't going to concern himself with other people's matters, not when he had his own problems to attend to.
Meanwhile, Remus Lupin paced back and forth in his shabby flat that he had just gotten back to. It was a simple two-room flat, nothing special, but it was all he had, all he could afford in his current condition. No one wanted him, no one would hire him seeing as he was cursed with this disease, this plague. If he wasn't careful he would get lost again in his self loathing and anger. He needed to focus. Peter Pettigrew. He was not only the secret keeper for James and Lily, he was alive. Sirius Black was his best friend, his brother, his pack mate. And Remus let him down. Remus believed the public instead of his very best mate. It was destroying him. His inner wolf inside of him howled out in pain at what he had just discovered.
He couldn't believe that he quite literally had run into Lord Black. In his haste to get back to his small apartment, he wasn't looking where he was going, and he became careless. It was a dangerous thing to do, especially when outcomes like this were a possibility. Oh Merlin, he was embarrassed. Remus had gotten kicked out of the reading of the will and testament of his late friend and his wife, James and Lily Potter. In his shocked stupor, he lost his cool and the ending result, Azalea. Oh, god little Azalea was crying, and it was his fault. He didn't know what to do anymore.
Everything in him was screaming, all of his instincts and his wolf combined, to go to the Blacks and beg for forgiveness. He didn't know what to do. Half of him wanted to write a letter and the other half, his inner wolf, demanded he have an audience with his sire, the beast that created him, and demand answers about what had happened that fateful night in Godric's Hollow. Answers he knew he wouldn't get. It would most likely be a suicide mission and right now it was a very tempting bit, but Remus Lupin knew he had things that he needed to take care of. Namely, getting back to Azalea, protecting her. And finding Pettigrew and dragging his body to the ministry, dead or alive. No, definitely alive. He needed them to get their answers, so Sirius could go free.
Oh merlin, Sirius. He condemned him to Azkaban without a trial, he had never even fought to get Sirius a trial. He just accepted the information that the papers had been spewing out on repeat. He was so distraught that he let out a quiet howl, mostly a pathetic whimper. He was so torn up and so out of sync with his werewolf self that he was becoming sicker and sicker, he was wasting away. Every time Remus transformed, every new full moon, he became weaker and weaker, as he was fighting off the werewolf that ripped through him like a hot knife through butter. He was so sickly, so frail. Azalea would never want him, not like this. Remus let out a louder howl, this time audible to his sensitive ears.
No. He needed to man up and stop drowning in his own self loathing long enough to let Azalea decide for herself. Remus straightened up from his hunched over position, unweaving his fingers from his dirty knotted hair that he was apparently attempting to rip out in both anguish and frustration, and stomped over to his shabby writing desk. He didn't have much of anything in the way of writing supplies, but he managed to scrounge up a sheet of muggle lined paper and a pencil. He stopped to actually think about what he wanted to say. He only had one shot at this, one opportunity to contact the Black family. Who would he write to? Azalea clearly had no clue who he was, so she wouldn't be the first option. Cassiopeia Black had glared at him down the entire time, as were the two boys with Azalea. He suspected that one was Nott, and the other one must have been Augusta's grandson, Neville, if he remembered the name correctly; Frank and Alice's only son. His heart twisted in a pang of pain at the thought of how Frank and Alice had been tortured into insanity. The poor boy, his parents were in Schrödinger's hands, both alive and absent at the same time. He finally sat down and stopped pacing long enough to compose the letter. He decided to write to Lord Black himself, seeing as Azalea Potter was clearly under the protection of the Blacks.
Arcturus Black
Black Estate
Scotland
I hope that this letter finds you well. It feels a bit weird to be writing to you. My name is Remus John Lupin. I was James Potter and Sirius Black's best friend. I don't honestly know what the point of this letter is, but please let me explain myself. I know I am rambling on this, but I need to get this out there, I'm begging you, pleading actually. I am aware that Azalea Dorea Potter is under your protection, and as her head of house, and as Lord Black, I am requesting your permission to meet her. Sirius was … is my best mate. Please, just let me meet her. I was there at the reading of the will and testament and I deeply regret my actions. Please know I never stopped looking for her. I never once gave up on Azalea. I had searched for her after I found out about James's passing. When I couldn't find her I went to Dumbledore who told me she was safe. Even then I still looked.
As for Sirius. I think Dumbledore knew he was innocent. Dumbledore was the one who cast the fidelius. He was the one who told everyone that Sirius is guilty. I fear he has plans for both Sirius and Azalea. I find it weird that all of Azalea's guardians either didn't know that they were guardians or were unable to take up guardianship. None of this makes any sense to me. Please help.
Sincerely,
Remus J. Lupin
He stared down at the lined paper full of his neat but rushed scraw. He almost regretted writing it, but he knew it had to be done. He had to send it. He reached into his trouser pocket and patted around for the few coins he had left after paying for the rent of the flat for the week, and mentally calculated his next move. He didn't currently have an owl, and they were expensive to buy and maintain. His most cost-effective move would be to go to the post office down the street from his flat, back in Diagon Alley, and send the letter though the generic owl post. He wasn't expecting much in return, let alone a reply, so he didn't need to worry about paying the extra fees for a return letter or anything like that. It was decided, that's what he would do. He pulled out his old worn out pocket watch and checked the time. It was already quarter to one and one p.m. was when the shop closed up on Wednesdays during the school year; Remus knew if he waited another day to send it he would just end up tearing the letter up into little shreds, and it would never see the light of day. With his mind made up he dashed away from the desk to where his long brown coat was hanging on a nail off the wall. In his hurry, he knocked over the desk chair in his ultimate effort to make it before the post office closed.
He nearly all but ran through Knockturn Alley where his cheap flat was located and made it to the shop with five minutes to spare. He stood in the short line panting, trying to catch his breath and compose himself enough to speak with the polite witch behind the counter who was already giving him a dirty look because of his patchy clothing and amber colored eyes. Most witches and wizards were prejudiced against him; they were prejudiced against him for something that was never his choice. When it was finally his turn, there was a minute to spare.
"I'd like to send off a letter. I'm not expecting a reply to return services are not required." He said politely. You caught more flies with honey rather than vinegar they always said.
"Who are you sending a letter to?" She asked as if she smelled something rotten upon him.
"Lord Arcturus Black, Black Manor, Scottish Highlands, Scotland." Remus said still with a slightly forced smile on his face. He was completely used to this sort of treatment, but it didn't make it any easier to tolerate.
"And what business do you have consorting with Lord Black." She snapped out.
"Not that it is any of your business, but I was a family friend of one of his grandchildren. I had lost contact, but I am reaching out to him to try to correct that. How much will it be to send the letter?" Remus asked, trying to be patient, but it was difficult when the witch was so rude.
"For you, one galleon, seven sickles and seventeen knuts." The witch smirked out, not expecting him to have the nearly ten dollars worth of coins on him. He frowned quickly doing the mental math. He had six galleons left after paying rent, and he still needed to make do until the profits from his research paper were owled to him. Of course, it was under a pen name, as no one would value or validate the information coming from a common werewolf. He needed to send this letter out though, so he signed and reached into his pockets, selecting out the two golden galleon coins and handed them over, watching closely as the smug grin fell off the witch's face completely.
"Oh." Was all she could say as Remus watched as she made the change.
He counted it out quickly and frowned again, noticing that he was three knuts short of where he should have been when he got the change back. Choosing not to say anything as he knew she could easily cause a commotion and ban him from ever returning to the shop again quite easily. The Ministry made it that way. Any creature could be banned at the simple word of the shop owner, as pertaining to ordinance 9 section 7, 8 per decree of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.
Any witch or wizard, pure of blood, has the legal permission from the state of the Ministry of Magic to bar any creature of impure blood status from entrance to their establishment at any time, pertaining to the word of the shop owner.
If at any time a creature causes a commotion of large quantity, it shall be put to death before the public.
Specifically there was a part decreeing that he must register himself as a lethal dangerous creature with the Ministry, and must disclose his current location at all times for safety reasons. It was burned into his memory, seeing as how even though he was a half-blooded wizard, they saw him as a mere creature due to his werewolf nature. The Ministry was a vile, corrupt place that had no tolerance for anything or anyone different than who they were, which was ironic. It made them no different than how they thought that the muggles would view them if they were discovered.
He paid attention to his surroundings, always on the defensive, as he made his way back through Knockturn Alley to the place he was calling home. Life was difficult on a good day, and today was decidedly not one of those days. He had a goal in mind, and he knew he needed to contact him whether either of them liked it or not. Remus needed to contact his sire, Fenrir Greyback.
Fenrir was, and is Remus's greatest fear and admiration at the same time. He yearned for how free and untamed his sire was, how he obeyed no laws made by unsympathetic wizards that were so prejudiced and so blinded by power that they didn't care who or what they were hurting in the process. Fenrir was wild and vicious and cold and calculating, and everything that Remus John Lupin tried his best not to be. But when it came down to it, Remus was just like him. He was a werewolf, because of him. But Remus knew he only knew half the story of the situation.
You see, Remus knew of the truth about his father. He knew of his hatred for anything inhuman. Lyall Lupin couldn't stand anything that wasn't a witch or wizard. He hated every creature with vehement passion, but he had a very strong, very special hatred for werewolves. Lyall had made werewolves public enemy number one in the eyes of the Ministry and wizarding public in general, and deemed all werewolves unfit to have a wand. He was trying his hardest to eradicate them entirely and put a target on Fenrir Greyback's back. He had signed the very paperwork that made Remus's life even harder to this day.
Remus remembered that night. It was forever burned into his brain, at the mere age of four years old when a tall dark man snuck into his room through the open window. It was a full moon, he even remembered staring up at it, musing at the beautifulness at the time. He didn't know it was unsafe, didn't know about the dangers of a full moon at the time, and why would he. He was a child. But this man snuck through the open window and crept up on the sleeping boy, and it was over before he ever knew it happened. The man's eyes dilated and turned into slits, he grew in height and became slender, hairy. He let out a loud howl and scratched the boy right across the face, marring him, scarring him permanently, and it infected him that night. He became the very thing that his father abhorred the most, created by his father's arch enemy.
That night, Remus Lupin was turned into a werewolf, and no one was none the wiser until a month later, when he too transformed into a werewolf. And for that, Lyall despised his son. To him, Remus was no better than scum of the earth, no better than the child murderer himself, Fenrir Greyback. But as horrid as Fenrir's actions are and were, he still supported Remus. He was the one that comforted the boy when he was kicked out of the home, and was the one to take Remus to Gringotts when Remus got his Hogwarts letter. But it wasn't until Remus met James Potter and Sirius Black on the train that fateful September 1971 when he was eleven that he ever knew anything different. He began to turn his back on the archaic and downright sometimes cruel methods that Fenrir showed as the leader of the largest pack of werewolves in Great Britain. Remus turned away right into the hands of Albus Dumbledore, the man who showed false kindness to Remus. He so graciously allowed Remus to come to his school, but under the condition that every full moon, Remus was to leave the school and go to a rundown abandoned shack of a house nearly off of school grounds to transform alone, uncomforted, unprecedented by his sire.
Remus was so enthused to get a wand and learn magic, that he turned his back on the only real father that he ever remembered. Fenrir never forgot that, and he became crueler, more ruthless towards wizards, especially on what he deemed the 'light' side, Albus's side. His attacks became more organized, more focused on wizards and muggles who stood out to defy him. Fenrir was approached shortly after by the up and coming next dark lord, someone who went by the name Lord Voldemort. The same Lord Voldemort that ended up killing James and Lily. Remus didn't know what to think anymore. Albus Dumbledore, was he a good man who saved the wizarding world, or was he a manipulative wizard who forced his way, and neglected his duties. Remus had to find out the truth. With Voldemort dead, it was safe to return home, and home is where he would head.
With his mind made up, he packed up the flat with a flick of his wand. He was well versed in wordless wandless magic by this point, especially the spells used to shrink and pack everything. It was useful for when he had to flee, for when he had outstayed his welcome a bit too long. For when the wizards around him caught on to what he really was, a monster in disguise. No, he couldn't be thinking in that mindset. He could feel the disgust rolling off himself in droves, and he knew his sire would be able to smell the self loathing off of him.
Remus closed his eyes and focused on where his magical core was, where the sire's bond would be located, and focused on the pulling feeling inside of him, the one that would lead him to exactly where Fenrir was hiding away with his main pack. He and his inner wolf were at peace of agreement for the first time in a very long time. For once, they agreed on something. It was time for him to go home. He just had to make a pit stop at Gringotts bank first. He had a bad feeling, and he needed to get tested for potion interference.
He quietly made his way into Gringotts, one of the few places he was never discriminated against. Goblins cared little for the petty squabbles of the wizarding world, it seemed, and he was thankful for it. He waited patiently in line for a free teller to open up, it didn't take long. Goblins were fast and efficient at what they did, after all.
"I am here to claim the sum of money left to me by the will and testament of James Potter and Lily Potter-Evans... Rosier. I am also requesting for a full inheritance test to be performed. I have suspicions and that would be the most direct way to get my results." Remus stated when it was his turn. The goblin looked down at him from his perched seat.
"I see. You will need to see Bloodfist first, as the sum of your vault is less than needed to cover the test at this time. We will go from there, if and when the sum of money you are to receive is enough to cover said test. Harfang, will you escort Mr. Lupin to Bloodfist's office? He will be expecting you."
Remus followed closely along to the goblin who was escorting him though the upper bowels of Gringotts bank. He had heard the horrible tales told by other students in Hogwarts about wizards being lost inside of this bank, of them never being found, or found after it was way too late. He did not want that to happen to him, thank you very much.
He entered Bloodfist's office and internally cringed. Not so long ago, this is where he ended up making a complete and utter ass of himself. This particular office is where he royally screwed up and made his Azalea cry.
"This is a highly unusual request to come from a half-blooded wizard, especially with such a contention as you have within you. You are aware that it will cost you a sum of 20 galleons an hour to perform this test, as well as another fifteen for the room itself, yes? Your savings in your vault are unsubstantial at this time. Nonetheless, if you are here to claim the sum amount of money left to you by the stated individuals, you will need to place seven drops of blood upon the runes on this parchment. If in fact you are indeed the true Remus John Lupin as you have stated, the parchment will glow gold, and you will be granted access to a temporary holdings vault to collect your allotted amount. If applicable we can at that time, transfer the items to your own vault if you possess one or to another secure location at this time. We will take our fees from your allotted amount."
"I understand, and I consent to the test." Remus said. He knew he had to do this. It was the only option he had left.
"I will slice your finger with the ceremonial dagger at this time and extract exactly seven drops. May I have your left hand."
Bloodfist pulled out a sapphire encrusted golden dagger, it looked to be goblin made, which should have been obvious. Remus knew he was just mentally stalling for time. He reached out and placed his left hand out, palm up.
Bloodfist wasted no time, rapidly moving and slicing open Remus' finger in a small paper cut sized slice. His thin bony fingers turned the hand over on top of the parchment and wrung out exactly seven droplets of precious blood, careful not to get any of the tainted wizard's blood on himself. There was never a record of a goblin contracting lycanthropy but Bloodfist would not be the first goblin to find out. The slice sealed itself up instantly, and the parchment indeed glowed golden.
"It seems you are indeed Remus John Lupin. We shall proceed with the second test shortly. In the meantime, please sit." The goblin said and left the room.
A few minutes later a scroll of parchment appeared magically on the goblin's desk, and the door opened. Bloodfist returned, and with him was another goblin who did not introduce themself. They merely sat in the very back of the office and observed as Bloodfist returned to sit behind the desk.
"This is the parchment that will reveal what bloodlines that you possess in you. It reveals your family bloodlines, what family houses you belong to, your parental status, financial worth, and your properties. It is usually performed upon muggle born witches and wizards, but special exceptions like this case are made occasionally. I will again slice your finger with this dagger, and you will wring out seven drops into the runic circle on the floor over there. The information will then reveal itself upon this document for us to divulge. Are you prepared, Mr. Lupin?" Bloodfist stated.
"I am." Remus agreed, and did as was told. He stuck his left hand out and again the goblin slit open his finger. Remus walked to the rune circle and stood in the very center, where he downturned his hand, allowing the blood to flow onto the floor beneath him. Bloodfist waved his hand over the paper in a show of magic as the runes glowed from the black state to a bright white color before dulling and going back to a muted charcoal black.
"It is done. Have a seat, and we will go over the discovered results." Bloodfist said, and gestured to the chair in front of the desk. Remus looked down at his finger and noted that it was completely sealed up, with not even a faint pink mark left. Bloodfist was already unrolling the parchment paper and Remus caught a glimpse of what was written in black swirly lettering.
Remus John Lupin
Heir to the Ancient and knowledgeable house of Fawley
Father Lyall Lupin
Allaster Fawley (Blood Adopted)
Mother Kathrine Forester
Holdings
Lupin
60,000 galleons, 45,000 sickles, 12,000 knuts
Lupin cottage York, England
Fawley
400,000 galleons, 245,000 sickles, 34,500 knuts
Fawley Manor Northampton, England
Fawley Château Linz, Austria
Fawley Palazzo, Prosecco Italy
Remus was reeling in shock. He knew it. He had known that his father disowned him, but it still stung. Lyall was a horrible excuse of a wizard who didn't deserve to breathe on many separate accounts but this... this took the cake. Sometime after he had been all but abandoned at the age of four, Lyall had actually had the kahuna to disinherit him from his family line. It stung but he expected it.
But wait. Did it read Fawley? No, that could be. The Fawley's were not a line in his family tree by any means. The last of the Fawley's that he had heard of passed on when the Minister of Magic's only wife died and his son had disappeared in a mysterious tragic accident... If Remus did his math right... He had a theory. His sire would be near the same age as that missing boy. There would only be one reason for that bloodline to show up. He knew his mother was a muggle, there was no chance of any squib being in her immediate line. He had to talk to his sire, he had to go back to Fenrir.