Characters

Remus Lupin – Detective Inspector

Alastor Moody – Chief Inspector, Derbyshire County Constabulary

Severus Snape – fellow detective

Orion & Walburga Black - the Duke & Duchess of Grimmauld

Sirius Black, Lord Grimmauld - eldest son of the Duke of Grimmauld

Regulus Black – youngest son of the Duke & Duchess of Grimmauld

Dr James Potter – childhood friend of Lord Grimmauld & classmate at Hogwarts College

Bellatrix Lestrange, Andromeda Black, and Narcissa Malfoy – daughters of Cygnus and Druella Black, the Duke & Duchess of Gaunt

Minerva Mc Gonagall – Governess

Lily Evans – Private Investigator

Peter Pettigrew – Classmate of Lord Grimmauld

Albus Dumbledore – Headmaster of Hogwarts College

Chapter One: Blue Moon

Blue Moon, you saw me standing alone

Without a dream in my heart

Without a love of my own

Blue Moon - Glen Gray / Benny Goodman (1935)

"Where were you on the night of the twenty- nineth of September…. Sir Grimmauld, I mean…" Remus cleared his throat.

He could never remember how one was meant to address these Upper Class, titled idiots.

"Lord Grimmauld, but I prefer Sirius, Sirius Black."

The man smiled, a tight smile that failed to reach his eyes. It was both sad and tense, Remus thought, although he was desperately trying to appear nonchalant. He watched the way the dark-haired man's elegant hands played with the cigarette lighter. Nerves. He made a note of it.

"Pardon me, Lord Grimmauld," Remus said, leaning back against the uncomfortable, small chair.

The chair creaked, and he cursed silently. If he broke the Duchess of Grimmauld's antique lady's writing chair, he was in so much trouble.

"The Duchess will eat you alive if you break that," the man laughed.

A hollow, bitter sort of a sound.

He looked like one of the centuries old Black family portraits he had seen lining the gallery downstairs - the long hair, effortlessly elegant, the timeless quality of his clothes, something ethereal, the pale column of his neck. Remus cleared his throat again. What the hell was wrong with him today? He needed caffeine and more sleep, and he needed to get his act together and stop feeling sorry for this pathetic, (undoubtedly fascist) man who had never done an honest day's work in all his life.

And what sort of a bloke called his mother the Duchess? Without thinking, Remus rolled his eyes. The other man didn't seem to care, judging by the way his lips quirked upwards.

"Mind if I smoke, Lupin?"

Remus shook his head. He watched as the Duke's eldest son lit his cigarette. He did a good job of hiding it, but Remus could see that his hands trembled. He made a note of it.

"Lord Grimmauld?" Remus asked.

The man sighed, relief or contentment, he couldn't be sure, his eyes closing momentarily as he exhaled upwards. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his white shirt, his neck arching backwards, the tall floor lamp behind him casting shadows on his high cheekbones and the cleft on his chin, on his Adam's apple and the collarbones peeking out at the base of his neck. When he reopened them, he looked straight at Remus, his clear grey eyes piercing.

"Do you like dogs, Lupin?"

Trust him to end up on this godforsaken case.

The Duchess of Grimmauld had already screamed at him and threatened to have him fired.

"You have ten minutes, Mister…" the Duchess had said, looking at her watch.

"Your Grace, I think it will take me more than," Remus said.

"Ten minutes. If you run over your time, I shall have you dismissed."

"Pardon?"

The duchess looked at him as though he had offended her.

"Removed from your post. Sacked."

She placed her hands on her lap and looked at him. He felt the sudden urge to scratch his neck.

"Your Grace, do you have any idea who might want to harm your Butler?" he asked.

"None."

He really needed to scratch his stubble so badly.

"I see. And could I ask you to tell me what you were doing yesterday evening, from five o'clock onwards?"

"I don't understand the relevance of my whereabouts," Walburga Black said.

Her grey eyes were uncomfortably piercing, and cold. She managed to look strangely lifeless, like one of the portraits downstairs, the ones in need of restoration. And yet he could almost feel a power emanating from her, like a deadly rattlesnake waiting to pounce. She was extremely good-looking, almost unfeasibly so, and time had not yet dimmed her beauty. Her dark hair had but a few scattered greys, gathered in a classical chignon. She wore a bottle green velvet gown, like the kind of evening gowns that the young, fashionable, aristocratic ladies wore these days - bias-cut and tight fitting, with a fishtail skirt, and a yet it was early afternoon.

"I must ask you, unfortunately, as we need to track everyone's movements," Remus tried once more.

"I was here, at my desk, all day," the tight reply.

"All day?"

"Yes."

"Doing what?"

"Answering letters."

"Much correspondence?" Remus said.

"Good day, Mister…"

The duchess of Grimmauld stood up and walked towards her antique writing desk, as though he had disappeared.

"I need to ask you," Remus said.

"I will not be taking any more questions from you, do I make myself clear?"

Her voice had risen and the small veins near her left temple were now protruding. He was surprised at abrupt change in her manner.

"Your Grace, I must insist that you at least tell me where you were last night between nine o' clock and midnight," Remus said, trying to stop the irritation from seeping into his voice.

"How dare you insinuate I was not here! Are you accusing me of adultery?"

"Pardon?" Remus blinked at her in bewilderment.

"Out! Get out! Now!"

She pressed the bell next to her desk and kept her hand over it. They could hear a persistent, high pitched tone coming from downstairs, and the sound of hurried footsteps coming towards them.

"Your Grace, I did no such thing, I merely asked," said Remus.

"Get out, you insufferable man! Out!"

She was shouting now, and Remus stood up and watched her face contorting with rage. She looked exactly how he had imagined the evil Queen when he read Snow White as a small child. He had no idea what Moody would have done in his place.

The Duke had refused to answer any of his questions.

"Your Grace, my condolences, you must be very upset at the death of your," began Remus.

The Duke remained seated behind his vast writing desk.

"No," Orion Black said, bending his head and continuing to write.

"I see, so Mr Kreacher was not someone you were very fond of," Remus said.

The Duke had not offered him a seat. He could have sat down anyway, but he decided to remain standing, on principal.

Orion looked up briefly, his lip curling in a look of pure disdain, almost disgust. His grey eyes were very similar to his wife's, more calculating, perhaps. Like his wife, he looked to be in his mid-fifties, well-preserved, although his hair was thinning slightly and lighter than his arched brows, still jet black. He raised one of them, marginally, and the superior, derisive look that tiny gesture conveyed was hard to describe.

"Fond?"

"Er, yes," Remus said.

"I have no fondness for any of my men, it is not a word I would use to describe my feelings for my servants, Lupin."

The Duke's mouth hardly opened as he spoke, his accent sounding like someone doing a comedy sketch about the Upper Classes.

"What way would you describe your feelings towards your staff, Your Grace?" Remus said calmly.

The Duke sighed and looked up at him once more.

"Feelings? I have no feelings towards my servants, Lupin. They are merely here to serve and do a good job of it. If they don't, I let them go without references, and they never work again. If they do, I allow them the privilege of staying on."

"Ad they stay, do they?" Remus couldn't help asking.

He was sure he would have legged it out of this house if he were forced to remain here for over a day. The Duke's face changed, a minimal twitch of his eye, from looking frankly bored to offended.

"If they're lucky, yes."

"Very inconvenient for you though, having to secure another butler," Remus said.

The Duke's head moved ever so slightly. He noted the perfect cut of his suit, the exactness of his hair parting, the symmetry of his French cuffs, cufflinks bearing the Duke's family crest. Remus got the feeling that everything about this man was ordered, shrewd, Machiavellian.

"And such a crime, committed on your property, cannot go unpunished," Remus added.

No response.

"Can you think of anyone who might wish you or your family harm?"

No response.

"Your Grace," Remus smiled politely. "Where were you last night, between nine and midnight?"

No response.

"Mr. Black, oh sorry, Your Grace," said Remus. "I need an answer from you."

The Duke pursed his lips and returned to his letter.

"I'm afraid I," Remus said.

"I have things to do, affairs I need to attend to. Good day, Lupin," the Duke said.

This was not someone who had ever followed orders.

"Your Grace, this is a murder enquiry, I cannot simply," said Remus.

"I have no information for you," Orion Black looked at his gold watch. "Please remove yourself. Go and talk to one of the skivvies, no doubt one of them was involved. This is not something that is of interest to the likes of my family."

"The maids? Do you allow them access to rifles, or pistols?" Remus said, trying not to bristle on behalf of the staff.

"If you are still in my line of sight after a minute, I shall have you forcefully removed from the premises and charged," he said, continuing to write.

"Charged with what?" Remus asked with interest.

Orion Black seemed to consider this for a few seconds.

"With anything I like," he said.

The three Black sisters had left him with more questions than answers.

"We were all here last night, Mr Lupin, in this boring old house, unfortunately. What would you like to know?"

Andromeda Black moved the silver cigarette holder away from him and exhaled towards the open French windows. Her sleek, chestnut hair was cut short in a bob, the type of haircut that would have been popular ten years ago in the 1920s. She wore wide, tweed trousers and a short sleeved, woollen top with pearl earrings. Her manner seemed warm and even, dare he say it, friendly.

"Did you notice anything unusual, Lady Andromeda?"

"Oh, please, I hate that name, everyone calls me Andy," she said smiling at him and making a funny face.

Remus smiled back.

"No, nothing unusual at all, Mister Policeman."

It was Andromeda's eldest sister, Bellatrix. She was standing beside the grand piano, looking rather dramatic. Her hair was also not particularly fashionable, long black waves braided and then gathered up in a huge, complicated updo, which looked like it must have taken some poor maid a long time to achieve. She was wearing a black silk, mid-length dress, simple but expensive looking, with puffed sleeves and shoulder pads, which accentuated her bust and her slender waist.

"What do you mean by that, Lady Bellatrix?" he said.

Bellatrix looked at her other sister and smiled thinly, before turning back to Remus.

"I mean, we saw nothing suspicious, we were here, inside, together all day and all evening, before going straight to bed," she said, raising her perfectly plucked, thin eyebrows at Remus, as though in challenge.

He watched as Andromeda frowned momentarily before nodding in agreement.

"You see, Mister Policeman, frightfully dull," Bellatrix added, looking him up and down as though she considered it beneath her to speak with him.

"Not even to go to the bathroom?" Remus said.

"Don't be absurd, Mister…" said the youngest sister, Narcissa.

"Lupin, Remus Lupin," Remus said.

Bellatrix snorted with derisive laughter.

"Bella, behave!" Andromeda said, shoving her sister unceremoniously with her hand.

"Too funny," Bella shrugged, as though Remus was no longer present.

"Your parents had a sense of humour, I see," Andromeda said, sending Remus an apologetic look.

"An excellent one," Remus smiled back.

"We used the loo, a few times, no doubt, but otherwise our whereabouts were precisely as my sister stated," Narcissa said.

The youngest sister looked nervous; Remus decided. Her hands kept twitching and she played constantly with her wedding and engagement rings, the latter bearing a rather obscene sized diamond which dwarfed her small fingers. She had peroxide blonde-hair, styled in the latest waves, and she was wearing an exquisite, sky-blue taffeta gown covered in exotic blooms. Despite her heavy make-up, Remus could see her face looked rather pale.

"Thank you, Lady Narcissa," Remus said, wishing he could smack his forehead against the door for inspiration. "Can any of you think of a reason why anyone would want to kill Mr Kreacher?"

"Well, Mister Policeman, I wouldn't be surprised if it was Andy's ex-boyfriend," Bellatrix smirked at her sister. "Only, he is a dirty Trot."

"Pardon?" said Remus.

"A communist little shit, Mister Policeman," said Bellatrix, her smile widening. "Who's to say that now his awful little heart is broken, he doesn't decide to take it out on Andy's family?"

"By murdering poor old Kreacher?" Andromeda laughed. "Give me a break!"

"His name is Ted, Ted Tonks," said Bella making a face. "Dreadful name for a dreadful little man. You may wish to interview him."

Remus saw Andromeda's eyes darken momentarily.

"Of course, talk to him, Mr. Lupin, I doubt he's interested in harming a grumpy old Butler," she said, inhaling deeply from her cigarette.

"You shouldn't smoke," Narcissa said, glaring at her sister. "It's very unladylike."

"Vulgar? Coarse? Heaven forbid, that dear Cissa's sister should in any way humiliate her! Shock, horror," Andromeda said. "That anyone dear to her should behave in…"

Narcissa pursed her lips and looked away.

"Should behave in?" said Remus.

"Nothing," said Andromeda.

"She's right, you know, Andy," said Bellatrix, coming to stand next to her youngest sister and patting her shoulder briefly. "The Führer hates seeing women engaging in that sort of behaviour."

Remus stared at her. Bellatrix smiled back, a knowing smile, filled with malice.

"That little shit, Hitler?" Andromeda said. "I seem to recall he doesn't like women wearing makeup. Or working. Puts you in quite a pickle, Bella, let's hope he never finds out!"

She plunged her cigarette into Bellatrix's cocktail glass (an Old Fashioned) to extinguish it, and smiled at Remus with an impish grin. Her sister didn't notice.

"Where do you work, Lady Bellatrix?" Remus asked politely.

"I do some voluntary work with the British Union of Fascists and National Socialists," Bellatrix said.

"Voluntary work?" Andromeda scoffed. "You'd swear it was a charity cake sale!"

"Mosley's team do excellent work in promoting fascist ideals and I am more than eager to help spread their views," Bellatrix said, glancing at Remus once more. "I suppose it is a charitable cause."

Remus wasn't sure if the feeling in his stomach was due to Bellatrix's words or to the lack of food. Possibly both.

"I think we've taken up quite enough of your time, Mister Policeman," Bellatrix leered at him. "I think you should go and talk to our loveliest coz, Lord Grimmauld. He's always been the black sheep of the family. No doubt he's some way involved in this silly mess. When he was younger, he-"

"Shut up, Bella, Mr Lupin is singularly uninterested in Sirius' teenage antics!" Andromeda said.

"Is he the Duke's eldest son?" Remus asked.

Narcissa and Bellatrix tittered with laughter.

"Yes, that's why he's referred to as Lord Grimmauld," Andromeda explained, with a withering look at her sisters. "His younger brother, Lord Regulus, is currently away at Lemlair House in Scotland."

"On a holiday?" Remus said.

"Hunting', shootin', fishin,'" replied Andromeda with an eye roll.

"Good thing he has an iron-clad alibi," Bellatrix laughed lightly. "He's a crack shot."

"Oh?" said Remus.

"Always was," Andromeda said.

"As is his brother, Lord Grimmauld, who unfortunately was here last night. Oops!" Bellatrix grinned at Andromeda, covering her mouth in mock concern.

"I hardly think one needs to be a crack shot to shoot an old man in the back of the head," Andromeda said.

"How do you know for certain that Lord Regulus was not here, Lady Bellatrix?" Remus asked.

"Ask him yourself. He telephoned last night, from Lemlair's hunting lodge in the Highlands. He is one of ten guests. I presume that counts as a sufficient alibi?"

Remus nodded.

Bellatrix raised her cocktail glass at him and took a deep gulp. Remus found it hard not to laugh as she spit out the mouthful in disgust, while Andromeda winked at him.

And now this damned, infernal, rich bastard, once more refusing to answer a simple question… who, if Remus Lupin was being honest, was too good-looking, making it impossible for him to be able to concentrate on anything else…

"For fuck's sake, just answer the damned question, Black!" Remus said.

He had driven down to the Duke of Grimmauld's stately home, Slytherin House, earlier that day, in the new, sleek, Lagonda sports car which Derbyshire County Constabulary had commissioned due to a fear of so called 'motor bandits' who used high-speed cars to escape from robberies. He was a good driver, despite his lack of experience, but he had driven slowly, Chief Inspector Moody's warning of "Constant vigilance, Lupin!" ringing in his ears. The grounds were vast, imposing. Woodland stretched as far as the eye could see, sloping towards rich grassland, a golf course, an Italianate garden with a tall, intricate hedge maze. He drove past the stables, huge statues, a vast lake and a dizzying display of fountains. The house itself was impossibly grand - two massive wings on either side of a central, dome-covered block. Remus counted the number of windows and noted nine in each wing and four on each side of the front door.

Remus heaved an irritated sigh. He had heard a lot about the Black Family in the past few hours. None of it good. But their Head Butler, Kreacher, had been found dead, and he had been sent to investigate.

"Won't His Grace be expecting somebody more important than Lupin to deal with this case?" Severus Snape had asked Moody.

"His Grace?" Remus scoffed, his normally hoarse voice rougher than usual.

Moody looked over at him and grinned. It was a well-known fact that Remus Lupin had socialist leanings and detested the Royal Family. And Moody hated toffs.

"Sir!" said Severus sharply.

"Don't be ridiculous, Snape," Frank Longbottom said, yawning, as he handed Remus a mug of strong tea. "Quite the opposite. They will want to keep this dreadful, unfortunate inconvenience as quiet as possible."

Snape gave Remus a filthy look.

"Lupin is unfit to deal with the Duke and his family," Snape said, turning back towards Moody. "Just because he brought in that serial murderer last year does not mean-"

"Thanks, Longbottom," Remus said, purposely interrupting Snape and blowing over the top of his drink. "I badly needed this."

Remus remained unaware of the fact that since his return to work, following his release from hospital, the other men in his team were concerned about him. He still looked very pale and gaunt, his cheekbones too prominent, his jackets hanging off his too-thin frame. The black shadows under his eyes unmissable. He told them he was fine. He was. Perhaps he struggled to sleep, and not to dream, but he was better off keeping busy, at work. He avoided looking in the mirror as much as possible, and having too much time to think.

"Shut up, Lupin!" Snape hissed, looking furious.

"I would appreciate you keeping your nose out of other people's business, Detective Inspector Snape," said Moody, sending the dark-haired man an irritated scowl as he hobbled towards the blackboard. "Or are you trying to tell me how to do my job?"

Snape's jaw tightened. He was seething.

"No, Sir," he said.

"Well, that makes for a pleasant change," Moody glared, as he adjusted the eye patch over his right eye. "Just because you're pathetically obsessed with the aristocracy doesn't mean we don't catch killers in their midst. If I put you on the case, you'd fawn over the Duke so badly, you'd probably wet yourself."

Frank tried to cover up a snort of laughter by coughing into his drink. Remus bit the side of his lower lip. The rest of the officers grinned.

"Right. Duke's Butler found dead this morning. Near the stables. Bullet through the back of the head. No suspicious activity noted by anyone. And nothing appears to have been stolen."

"Ah, well, that's the most important thing," said Remus drily. "Heaven forbid!"

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Lupin," said Snape, shooting him a filthy look.

"I've been told it does," replied Remus, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs.

Frank spluttered with laughter and spilled tea on himself.

"Strangely, it does, Lupin," Moody said, with a quick grin. "Just don't overdo it."

"Yes, Sir," said Remus, hiding his own smile as he sipped his tea.

"Longbottom is correct, the Duke will want to keep this affair out of the newspapers. Lupin, I trust you to investigate this fully, despite what the Duke and Duchess may instruct you to do," Moody said. "Nasty family, the Blacks. One of the richest families in England. And very political. Made most of their fortune through the slave trade. Quite heavily involved in the British Union of Fascists, especially the Duke's youngest son and his nieces. Some sort of scandal recently, relating to financial improprieties of the Duke's nephew-in-law, a Mr. Lucius Malfoy. And much talk about one of the nieces in particular, Bellatrix Black. It appears she's a huge fanatic of that Hitler fellow. There may well be more to this murder than meets the eye. Be careful, constant vigilance! I'll fill you in on all the nitty-gritty later."

"Yes, Sir," said Remus.

"I think they'll be pleased that I assigned such a young man to the case, they'll think you're a Sergeant," Moody said, standing up slowly and grabbing a hold of his walking stick. "I think you may be the first person in the Force to be promoted to the rank of Detective Inspector at your age."

Remus felt his cheeks flush. It was common knowledge that Remus John Lupin was Moody's favourite, for reasons that Remus couldn't put his finger on. He remained unaware that Moody had described him as uncommonly bright, hard-working, relentless, stubborn and always got results. He was also exceptionally brave, and his colleagues, aside from Severus Snape, considered him a joy to work with. His sassy wit and kind manner were widely remarked on. Most of them had been aghast to learn what had happened to him last year. Aside from Severus Snape. He heard Snape mutter something under his breath.

"Yes, Chief," he said.

"Right, off you go! I'll join you tomorrow. Take the grey Lagonda, Lupin, might make you feel less intimidated by the posh surroundings, eh?" Moody added, wincing and stumbling as he turned.

"I say, are you alright, Sir?" asked Frank, with a small frown, as the younger men all stood up.

"Perfectly fine, Longbottom," said Moody, sending him what Remus called his signature death-stare.

Everybody knew that Moody still suffered hugely from the injuries he had sustained fighting in the Flanders Fields during the Great War, but he refused point blank to acknowledge this.

"Sorry, Sir," said Frank.

"Well, what are you all standing around for?" Moody barked. "Get to work!"

He slammed the door shut behind him, and it was Remus' turn to wince.

"He'll ruin the mechanism," Frank chuckled, copying Remus' tone of voice.

"He will!" Remus shook his head. "Did the man not study Physics at school?"

"Who did? Swot!" said Frank, picking up his cap and straightening his uniform as he walked out.

"Idiot!" Remus called out after him, smiling to himself as the rest of the crew filed out of the room.

He turned to grab his long, threadbare overcoat.

"You think you're so terribly clever, don't you?"

Remus wasn't sure if he had heard Snape correctly, his voice a muttered sneer.

"Sorry, I missed that, were you saying something to me?" he said to the other detective.

Snape was standing directly in front of him now, his long fringe falling into his eyes. He didn't reply.

"By the way, I don't think so, Snape," said Remus, keeping his tone pleasant. "I know so."

Snape's dark eyes burned.

"Things are going to change around here, soon," Snape said in a quiet voice, moving towards the door.

"How fascinating, I was unaware that you dabbled in the Occult," Remus said.

His gaze fell on a small, printed flyer which had fallen out of Snape's coat pocket.

"All out against fascism! London workers! Anti-fascists! Peace-lovers!

The London Communist Party calls to you.. answer Mosely's provocation – join the great march…"*

"Switched sides, Severus?" Remus said, raising his brows.

"Obviously not!" Snape said, trying to snatch the leaflet off him.

Remus whipped his hand out of the way, keeping the piece of paper at arm's length. He had heard rumours that the British Union of Fascists were organising a march to take place on Sunday 4th October 1936, in the heart of the East End of London, an area with a large Jewish population. And that local anti-fascist groups were planning on opposing it. Snape clearly had an interest in it. He knew Snape was a Mosely supporter, as well as being anti-semitic and xenophobic.

"A march to incite hatred? That'd be right up your street, wouldn't it?" Remus said, keeping his voice calm. "Will you be there, in your little black shirt?"

"You won't be so smug if things work out as planned," Snape whispered under his breath as he opened the door.

Remus rolled his eyes. Snape was forever making snide comments, vaguely threatening, but he was well used to it.

"I'm not sure what you're trying to say," Remus said, yawning loudly.

"You'll see," Snape said, just before he slammed the door shut in turn.

"Fucking bastard," he muttered under his breath.

Snape had had it in for him since they were children. He had tried his best to ignore him back then, and he was still trying. There were times when he had wondered would he be better off leaving the Police, especially after the incident last year with Fenrir Greyback. He shuddered at the thought of it. If that hellish experience hadn't succeeded in making him leave his job, there was no way he was going to let this greasy-haired bastard break him.

Lord Grimmauld looked back at him in silence. The pompous git obviously wasn't used to people speaking their minds. And frankly he had been very rude to the man, which made him feel a bit guilty.

"Look, I'm sorry, I know you don't…" Remus' voice trailed off.

Black spots appeared in front of his eyes and felt suddenly light-headed. He reckoned he would get fed in the Duke's house, but nobody had offered him anything to eat and the interviews had lasted so long he hadn't found the time to head to the village pub. In fact, when he had politely inquired with the cook if he might be allowed some bread and cheese and a drink of water, or even just a cup of tea, he had been refused. They were grim - the cook, the groomsman, most of the staff he had met were either sour and contemptuous or else they looked scared stiff. The room was spinning. He brought his head down between his knees.

"Lupin, I say, are you alright, old chap?"

Sirius Black's voice sounded genuinely concerned.

"I'm perfectly fine, I don't need pity from the likes of you, Lord…" said Remus, lifting his head up sharply.

Somehow this man made him feel more self-conscious than ever about the scars across his face, and about his threadbare clothing. The last thing he wanted was for Sirius Black to feel sorry for him. Blackness overtook his vision, he could hear the man's voice, as though from far away, before it faded, and he lost consciousness and slumped to the ground.

"Prongso! Good Lord! I say, Prongso! Get in here! That policeman chap has just swooned!"

"What?"

"Swooned, keeled over, whatever you-" Sirius broke off as a tall, handsome man with messy black hair and round glasses swept in, his rolled-up sleeves revealing tanned skin as he took his stethoscope from around his neck and knelt beside Lupin.

"You mean fainted?" the man said.

"Yes, yes! Quickly, you idiot! Is he alright? Is he dead? Does he need an injection?"

"Mamma mia, Padfoot! Will you shut up and move out of the damned way?"

"Stop talking and examine the poor man, damn it!"

"He's alright, he has a pulse, and he's breathing, just let me listen to his heart."

Sirius Black sighed with relief, looking at Remus Lupin's white face with an anxious frown.

"I didn't do anything, I swear," he said quietly, kneeling on the floor beside the other man.

"I know you didn't. Nothing amiss there, heart sounds normal, no murmurs. His pulse is a bit shallow. Call Mary and ask her to bring up some tea and biscuits. I hope he's not diabetic. He seems very thin. And get the First Aid box, there should be some smelling salts."

Lord Grimmauld rang the bell forcefully before striding next door and grabbing the box. He popped his head over the bannister as Mary, one of the ladies' maids, hurried up the stairs looking vaguely terrified.

"It's alright, Mary, only me," he grinned. "Spot of bother with the Detective. Could you do me a favour, and bring up some strong tea and cakes, the ones for Afternoon Tea?"

Relief swept over Mary MacDonald's face and she smiled back warmly.

"Of course, Lord-"

"Mary! How many times do I have to tell you that there's no need to-"

"Yes, Sir," she said, running back down the stairs.

"Is he alright?" Sirius said, handing the smelling salts to the dark-haired man who had loosened the detective's tie and had now started undoing his shirt buttons.

"Yes, blood pressure's a bit low, but he should be fine."

"Thank God for… hang on, what's that?" he said, pointing to the detective's neck.

Dr James Potter bent closer and pulled his shirt down.

The detective blinked and opened his eyes. He was lying on the floor, and a man was looming over him. He let out a strangled cry, and then kicked out forcefully to get away, sending the tall man flying backwards and knocking off his glasses.

"Fucking hell!" muttered Dr Potter, pinching his nose which was pumping blood. "It's alright, don't panic."

He put his other hand in the air, as though to prove he meant him no harm. Remus tried to steady his breathing, his chest heaving up and down, his heart still hammering. He nodded, slowly reorienting himself to where he was. He felt mortified.

"He's a doctor, you fool! Just because he's foreign doesn't mean he's going to hurt you!" Sirius Black's voice was livid as he stared down at Remus Lupin.

"Padron me?" Remus whispered, his breathing still erratic, his eyes flickering between the two men's faces.

"I didn't have you down as a damned racist bastard," Sirius Black's icy reply, as he grabbed a pullover from a nearby chair and gave it to his friend to use as a make-shift towel.

"I'm sorry, what do you… shit! Did I do that?" Remus said, pulling his shirt across his chest and looking at Dr Potter's face.

"You did," Dr Potter said.

"I'm terribly sorry, Sir, I have no idea what came over me, I have no recollection of how I found myself to be here and I…" Remus Lupin's voice caught in his throat.

"It's alright, minor soft tissue injury, I'm sure," Dr Potter said with a weary sigh.

"I swear to you, this has nothing to do with where you come from, Mr…" Remus added, looking at Sirius Black.

"Really?" Sirius Black's eyes flashed dangerously. "It better not, I-"

"Dr Potter," said the dark-haired man, putting out his hand. "My family is Italian."

Italian, Remus thought, a fascist too? Still, he hadn't deserved a kick to the face.

"Potter is not an Italian name," he said.

"Yes, my family moved here when I was five, and changed their name, from," Dr. Potter said.

"Mr Lupin has no interest in a long story about your family's antics, Prongso!" said Sirius.

"Oh. Right. Well, yes, quite," said Dr Potter, ruffling his thick, black hair which looked somewhat out of control, and sticking up in all directions.

"Why did they…" Remus asked.

"Many reasons, not least the fact that people tend to be racist," the dark- haired man said, with a vague shrug.

"Remus, Remus Lupin, Detective Inspector," Remus said, taking the man's hand and shaking it firmly. "I really am dreadfully sorry, Doctor."

"It's alright, don't mention it," Dr Potter smiled and pulled him up. "Now, you must eat and drink, and I shall run down to the kitchens to get some ice for my nose and check back in with you shortly. Padfoot, keep an eye on him for me, will you?"

Lord Grimmauld muttered an expletive under his breath and nodded.

"I need to get back to work, Lord Grimmauld," Remus said, standing up rather quickly.

They had been sitting in awkward silence since the doctor had left, cold resentment emanating from the aristocrat, Remus wolfing down the admittedly delicious food as fast as humanly possible.

"Stop calling me Lord Grimmauld, I hate it," the other man snapped. "And do what you're told! Dr Potter clearly instructed you to stay here and wait until he-"

"Be quiet, Black!" said Remus.

Sirius Black flinched, as though he had been slapped.

"You can't tell me what to do, Black, I'm not your skivvy. But I can tell you what to do, do you understand?" Remus continued quietly, leaning down so he towered over the Duke's eldest son.

He watched as the man's Adam's apple moved and he swallowed hard.

"Make me," Sirius Black said.

His grey eyes glittered, and a mischievous smile flickered across his face.

"Oh, fuck off," Remus said, making a dismissive noise in his throat.

He walked away, still feeling a bit disorientated, holding onto the bannister as he stalked down the stairs. He was late, he still needed to interview half of the servants. He was vaguely horrified at how unprofessionally he had behaved with the Duke's son. He put it down to hypoglycaemia. He hoped to God the man didn't report him. Or that poor doctor. He could be in serious trouble. What the hell had come over him?

"Fuck!" he groaned to himself, closing his eyes shut for a moment in panic. Maybe he wasn't fit to return to work yet. Maybe the incident with Greyback had ruined him.

He heard voices coming from the sitting room across the hall.

"I think I shall have to corner that stupid little man and tell him about poor old Cousin Sirius' murky past. I was planning on telling him, until you so rudely interrupted me, Andy," a voice laced with malice, which he immediately recognised as belonging to Lady Bellatrix.

"Don't be ridiculous, Bella, that's completely irrelevant," an irritated, scathing tone.

"Oh really? Well, darling, I think we'll leave it up to the dear Mr Lupin to decide what is and isn't relevant. I know if I were an ugly Jew Filth *** I'd want to know that our handsome coz was expelled from Hogwarts for assaulting another pupil. Men of that sort are surely more prone to murder than most."

"You're such a rude bitch, Bella."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"If you use that language about Mr. Lupin again, I'm punching you in the face."

"I see. No attempt to defend your favourite coz though, Andy," followed by a sneering laugh.

"Depends what you mean by men of his sort, if you mean homosexuals, then yes, I damn well-"

"Of course I do, we both know those disgusting freaks are," Bella's voice was rising.

"Shut up, Bella! Someone will hear us!" a quieter tone.

"Oh shut up yourself, Cissa! Do you want me to mention the little mess that dearest Lucius has gotten himself involved in? Dear me, quite a pickle, as Andy would say, I'm sure that-"

The door flew open and Lady Narcissa burst through, nearly colliding with Remus. She glared at him dismissively, with no apology, and ran down the short flight of stairs to the main hall. She picked up a fashionable hat in the exact same shade of blue as her dress, carefully placed it on her head at an angle, and threw on a long coat.

"I am going out for a walk," she informed Remus in clipped tones.

"Lady Narcissa, you may recall I have requested that you all wait here, I have not yet finished my," began Remus, following her downstairs.

"I shall remain unavailable to speak with you until after my walk. Good day, Mister…" Narcissa said.

"Mr Lupin," Remus said.

"Good day," she repeated, obviously of the view that remembering his name was not a priority, and closing the imposing doors behind her.

These toffs had a perfect way of saying one thing, but making it clear they were telling you something entirely different, namely, to fuck away off.

He had made no progress on the case at all, Moody was going to be sorely disappointed in him, and all he could seem to focus on was the way Sirius Black's soft hands had threaded through his hair as he lay on the floor. His beautiful face. His voice. It was inappropriate. He was a suspect in a murder case. Teenage aristocrats were notorious for engaging in all sorts of pranks in the best schools, he must have assaulted someone very seriously to have been expelled from Hogwarts. This man who was also without a doubt a blasted, fascist bastard. And was apparently gay.

"Get me the fuck out of here!" he muttered to himself in desperation.

Early the next morning, he awoke to the shrill sounds of his telephone. The only reason he had one was due to Moody's insistence, after the incident with Greyback, his department had paid for it.

"Call for you, Sir, Chief Inspector Moody on the line from Police Headquarters."

"Sir?" his hoarse voice full of sleep.

"Lupin, have some tea before I get there, or you'll be in a foul mood. Duke of Grimmauld found murdered. Dagger sticking into his heart. I'll be over in ten. I'm bringing Evans, from that Mulciber mess last year. Head Office is going barmy. Too many high-profile cases. Not enough men on the ground. Want me to focus on the recent spate of bank robberies. Bad publicity for the force. They've sanctioned her to join us. I'm putting you both on the case, best minds I know."

Notes:

A toff - a rich or upper-class person

* Real wording of anti-fascist poster from 1936

** The Battle of Cable Street was an event that took place in Cable Street and Whitechapel in the East End of London, on Sunday 4 October 1936. It was a clash between the Metropolitan Police, sent to protect a march by members of the British Union of Fascists[1] led by Oswald Mosley, and various anti-fascist demonstrators, including local anarchist, communist, Jewish and socialist groups.[2]

*** Filth – slang term for Police

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