I don't own Hellsing or Harry Potter and I'm not making any money from this.
Fifth year was a period of transition for the students at Hogwarts. It was a time when everyone had to begin thinking about their long term goals and what would be needed to achieve them. School policy stated that all fifth years were required to meet with their head of house to discuss which classes they wished to continue no later than a week after OWL exams. But each house had their own ways of doing things. Professor Sprout was the only teacher known to wait until after the tests to meet with her students. The other three scheduled their meetings in advance - most likely to allow the students with average grades time to prepare so they would get a sufficient score to move up. It also gave them plenty of time to think over their choices. The classes you took in your last two years could make or break a person's future career, so it was a big decision to make. Most would flip flop back and forth several times before making a declaration.
Mihnea had made his all of his choices long ago, so he knew exactly what he was going to do. As he had never been a borderline student (and didn't intend to become one), he had little doubt that he would be eligible for them. All he needed was for Snape to sign off on them and he'd be good to go. When a notice was posted in the Slytherin common room about the Potions Master now scheduling meetings, he was the first to sign up. Mihnea thought it best to get it done and out of the way so he could focus on more important things.
On the appointed day, he headed down to Snape's office and arrived five minutes early. The man was finishing up with some last minute grading, so he wound up having to wait outside for a summons. When he was finally invited inside, his head of house gestured to the chair across from his desk.
"Sit down, Mr. Bassarab." he instructed. Mihnea did as he was told and the man returned to his own seat before pulling out a sheet of parchment and a quill. He cleared his throat formally. "It should go without saying that what you choose to do with your final years here will follow you for the rest of your life. With that in mind, do you have any questions or concerns you care to discuss?"
"Only one." he replied. "I recieved a message from Professor Dumbledore at the beginning of term mentioning a class in Alchemy. I've seen it on the course lists, but I haven't found anything more specifc than that."
Snape glanced up from the parchment for a moment. His expression didn't change, but a glint of approval sparked in his dark eyes. "Alchemy is a class which is strictly regulated by the Ministry of Magic due to its subject matter and advanced nature." he informed him. "There may be no more than ten students enrolled in each grade level at any one time and the requirements for acceptance are rigorous. There usually aren't enough suitable students to warrant giving it a time slot. However, I understand we may have enough now to offer it next year." his posture straightened as he went on. "The course itself is divided into two parts. Professor Dumbledore would teach the lecture based class, which would be held on Tuesdays and Thursdays at 3:00, and the practical lab class would be taught by myself on Wednesdays at 2:00."
Mihnea considered it. That didn't interfere with the other classes he'd picked. And if there was any possibility of Alchemy being offered, he was going to jump all over it. "What are the requirements for getting in?" he asked.
"A score of O on the Potions, Arithmancy, and Herbology OWL's." the Potions Master replied. "As well as a lack of a serious disciplinary record. I don't forsee anything barring you from being accepted." One of his brows went up a hair and the tip of his quill hovered expectantly above the scroll of paper. "I take it you're interested?"
The boy nodded to show that he was and watched as the man scribbled it down on the appropriate line. Herbology wasn't one of his favorites, but his history of recieving E's stemmed from boredom rather than a lack of knowledge. Getting a good grade on the exam would be no trouble now that he knew he needed it. With that, he listed off his other choices. Genethlialogy was the advancement from Astrology he'd been looking forward to - which required Arithmancy as a prerequisite as well. Potions was a given. It would follow along similar lines as Alchemy, but would be different enough so as not to be redundant. Mihnea's final pick was Rhabdomancy. Whereas the other three were things he could see himself using in the future, this was based more on sheer intellectual interest. Not something he truly needed, but the class was fun and he wanted to continue with it. All of them were scheduled in the afternoon hours or at night - meaning that he would be able to sleep late in the mornings if he wanted. Funny how little things like that seemed to work out by chance.
Snape obviously approved of him continuing with his class. Genethlialogy didn't surprise him either. He sniffed as he wrote it down and commented that he had expected as much. But the course Mihnea chose to fill the his last available time slot gave the man serious pause. In fact, he was so taken aback by it that he didn't even bother to write it down.
"Rhabdomancy?" he repeated. Snape looked up to peer at him. "Mr. Bassarab, this schedule you're proposing has no classes involving practical spellwork."
Mihnea couldn't help but arch a brow. "I'm aware of that, sir."
"Then you should also be aware that the vast majority of careers require a NEWT level class in at least one area of spellwork." the man pointed out. "It is uncommon for a job to require any of the courses you've selected aside from Potions and none, to my knowledge, require this combination. By cutting out all other practical classes, you are severely limiting your opportunities for the future."
"With all due respect, sir, I don't need a class to teach me how to cast spells." Mihnea countered, feeling a twinge of irritation rise up at the turn of events. "I can learn those things just as well - and faster - by reading the books. I won't need them with what I plan on doing later on anyway."
"And just what do you plan on doing with your life after school, Mr. Bassarab?" Snape asked pointedly.
That was a dangerous question for him to be asking. Mihnea didn't appreciate being put on the spot like this and his face twisted up into a scowl. "I intend to take up my family's business." he said simply.
His head of house snorted. "Your family must be involved in some highly esoteric pursuits then." he said with a sneer.
Mihnea just clenched his jaw and glared across the desk at him. It was all he could do not to tear into the man. Snape was sticking his nose into things that were none of his business and he didn't like it one bit. Several long moments passed with him refusing to speak. Snape seemed to realize that his approach wasn't working and switched tactics. He blew a long, deliberate breath out through his nostrils, then sat back in his chair.
"This." he said, tapping his finger on the parchment bearing his class choices. "Isn't the sort of thing one sees from someone preparing for their future. It is a list of subjects which can be easily hidden or explained away as being strictly philosphical in nature to someone without an in-depth knowledge of magic. If the presence of courses in useful, practical magic would cause trouble for you at home, I can arrange for an alternate schedule to be sent so that your parents won't be aware of what you're really taking."
The boy had to fight to keep his mouth from dropping open in disbelief. "Excuse me?" he demanded. "Why?"
Snape looked at him meaningfully. "It doesn't happen often, but there are times when such things prove necessary... for a student's protection."
Protection? He repeated mentally. Mihnea could see where this was going. The professor had gotten it into his head that he was some weak, snivelling mess of a boy who was horribly abused or something. Just the idea that someone would think that pissed him off more than words could express. Unwilling to sit there and listen to such nonsense, he shoved himself up out of his seat.
"I'm not having this conversation." he declared.
He turned to march toward the door, but Snape's fearsome voice called out from behind him.
"Don't you dare turn your back on me, Mihnea Bassarab." he commanded. "I haven't given you permission to leave."
It was spoken harshly enough to make him stop and turn back around, but he didn't return to his seat. Snanpe was now on his feet as well - having jumped up in preparation to follow in case he stormed out. He was obviously upset, but it appeared to be directed more toward Mihnea's lack of cooperation than the boy himself. The man studied him intently, then thrust a finger out at him.
"Roll up your sleeves."
Mihnea's eyes narrowed. "No."
Snape scowled and moved around the desk to stride toward him. Before he had a chance to move away, the professor roughly grabbed his left arm and shoved up the shirt sleeve, revealing the scars Granger had left months ago. His dark eyes sparked with anger when he saw them.
"These weren't here at the beginning of the year." he said, tightening his grip on the boy's wrist. "What happened?"
"None of your damn business." Mihnea hissed at him. "Get your hands off of me."
The Potions Master's eyes continued to bore into him but when he jerked his arm away, Mihnea felt him loosen his grip. You couldn't call something like that 'letting go', but he did make it easier to escape the hold. The man's expression was difficult to read. Caught somewhere between extreme irritation and something akin to worry. Or concern, rather. 'Worry' was too soft a work to be used in relation to Severus Snape. There was also a glint of understanding. As if he were seeing something in the boy's actions that he sympathized with no matter how much it set him off. He stepped back and took a breath to calm himself, but when he spoke again his voice was low and filled with the same degree of purpose.
"I have seen and done too much to not recognize what's going on here." he said slowly. His face shifted to a look that Mihnea imagined was the closest Snape could get to a pleading expression. "Mihnea, you are a remarkable student with talent in many different areas. You could follow any path of your choosing and excel beyond all others. That's a rare gift for a person to have. I will not sit back and watch you throw your life away because someone else is holding you back. I want to help you, but I can't do that unless you start talking to me."
Mihnea was struck that he thought so highly of him. His head of house rarely gave such glowing praise. But the fact that it came out in the midst of an argument made the feeling almost bittersweet. He couldn't let himself fall into a trap baited with kind words. He squared his shoulders and crossed his arms over his chest.
"What I choose to do with my life is my decision, not yours." he told him. "And there's nothing to talk about."
"Don't lie to me, boy!" Snape said, growing upset again. "You have been tortured. You've all but admitted it before, but refuse to say who's responsible. In all the years I've known you, you've always restlessly stalked the castle at all hours of the night due to your insomnia. You brood incessantly and are easily agitated when disturbed. That alone is cause for concern - even without these mysterious scars that keep appearing on you." his tone became more insistent and he reached out to take hold of his shoulders. "Let me help you, Mihnea. I have been where you are now and I know what it's like."
The boy grit his teeth in frustration. "You do not kno..."
"Yes, I do." the man interrupted. "My father was a terrible wretch of a muggle who despised anything to do with magic. He was fond of flying into drunken rages and attempted to beat it out of me and my mother. I was able to get away once I was old enough, but I watched my mother suffer under his constant torment until the day she died. She was too proud and stubborn to leave the sorry bastard. When I look at you, I see traces of myself when I was your age. I tried to manage everything on my own and wound up making horrible mistakes that I have to live with for the rest of my life. You have too much potential to wind up that way. You have my confidence, so you don't have to hide things away or pretend they aren't there. Please talk to me."
"I'm not running or hiding from anything!" Mihnea exclaimed. He jerked himself out of the man's grip. "You see what you want to see, professor, not what's really there. What good would it be for me to talk to you? You've got everything figured out already, don't you? If I said anything that ran contrary to this rediculous explantion you've cooked up, you would think it was lie." he stepped forward and shoved a finger into Snape's face, feeling a new wave of ire rise up. "You think you know me so well, but you don't know the first thing about me. So thanks for the offer and the sob story, but I don't need or want your help. I know how to take care of myself."
The Potions Master's eyes narrowed. "I suggest you check the attitude and watch your tone of voice, Mr. Bassarab." he warned.
The threat made him want to laugh. "What are you going to do, Professor? Take points away from me?" Mihnea asked. "Do it! Take every last one of the bleeding things away! I didn't want them in the first place. You don't give a damn about me or anyone else. All you care about is making yourself and Slytherin house look good. That's the only reason you gave me such an obnoxious reward for fighting Black. Now, maybe you need to bask in the spotlight to feel better about yourself, but I dont. I'm not an attention whore and I don't want fame, glory, and masses of women falling at my feet. I liked being left alone and having my privacy. Then you had to screw it all up by putting me into a position where I am constantly harrassed. Next time I do something you think you can use to your advantage, go pin it on someone else and turn them into your poster child to compete with Potter. I won't be a part of your childish popularity contests."
If Snape wasn't riled up before, he certainly was now. The man squared his shoulders and straighted his posture to rise up to his full height. An unconsious attempt to indimidate by making himself look bigger. Seeing as how Mihnea was several inches taller and could still look down at him, it didn't do much good.
"Are you insulting me, Mr. Bassarab?" he asked in a very low, deadly sounding voice.
"I'm calling it like I see it." Mihnea replied with a sniff. "You are my teacher, sir, and I'll admit you're a damn good one. But you're still my teacher. You aren't my father, you aren't my therapist, and you are not my friend. So why don't you stick to what you're good at? Do your job as my teacher, and keep your nose out of my personal life."
With that he turned around to walk out of the office. However, before he reached the door, Professor Snape marched up and grabbed him, forcefully whirled him around, then twisted up the front of his shirt in his fist.
"If you even think about walking away from me, detention will be the least of your worries!" he threatened.
Mihnea arched a brow. He hadn't been planning on pulling this out unless provoked, but now seemed an excellent time for it. "If you try to punish me for walking away from you, I will report you to the Ministry of Magic for multiple offenses of using restricted magic on students without their consent."
The man knew exactly what he was talking about and was smart enough not to deny it. His eyes only narrowed. "Is that a threat?"
"I don't make threats, Professor. I make promises." he replied. "And unlike most people in this world, I don't make promises I don't intend to keep. You've seen for yourself what I've done to students who mess with me. All of that was just... mild irritation. You haven't seen what I'm capable of when I get truly angry. You're used to dealing with children and teenagers who can't play games on your level. I assure you, I can. I know for a fact that you've used Legilimency on Constance before, and you've been trying to use it on me for most of this conversation. You should know by now that it doesn't work on me. But if you ever try to snoop around in my cousin's head again, I will have your job and make damn sure you'll never have another anywhere else." he paused to glance down at the hand that was holding him. "Now, Let. Me. Go."
For a moment, the two of them just stared each other down. Snape's nostrils were flaring, he was so angry. Anyone else may have been intimidated or frightened by the prospect, but he wasn't. Mihnea would have thought less of him if he were able to scare him. Yet, the professor could also see that he was serious and would follow through with the threat if he were forced to. A brief flicker of something passed through his eyes. Respect, Mihnea recognized. Even with him being so enormously pissed, the Potions Master still respected him for standing up to him. He wasn't really sure why. Maybe he was so used to students cowering to him that he appreciated someone who had the balls to put their foot down. Very slowly, his fingers unclenched themselves and released his shirt. The moment he was free, Mihnea smoothed his hand down over the wrinkled fabric, let out a snort, then turned on his heel and left.
The boy found himself saddled with a foul mood for the remainder of the afternoon. Getting into heated arguments with his fellow students was one thing, but to have one with a teacher was an entirely different matter. Not that he felt bad about how he handled it. Mihnea had meant every word he said and wouldn't change a thing if he had it to do over. Nor was he particularly worried about the outcome. Oh, he imagined Snape would be pissy and give him hell for a while, but he could deal with that. But the thought crossed his mind that he should probably write home about it. Given the man's suspicions about his parents, Mihnea didn't think his head of house would write to them. However, if Dumbledore caught wind of what happened, he very well might. Thinking that it would be in his best interests for them to hear it from him first rather than a teacher, the boy wrote out a letter. In it, he gave a brief description of what the conflict had been about and his response to it. Basically giving them a heads up to not be surprised if they heard he was now on the man's bad side, but assuring them he'd made certain that he wouldn't be in serious trouble. He snuck out to the owlrey to to send it off with Archimedes. As he watched the bird fly away with the missive in his beak, the boy tried to imagine what their reactions would be. His mother would probably be upset about him blackmailing one of his professors. His dad, on the other hand, would most likely laugh at how ludicrous it all was, then ask why he hadn't come up with something worse.
With that bit of business out of the way, Mihnea fell back into his thoughts. Brooding like his head of house claimed he did so much. It would have been nice to escape to his favorite haunt and get away from the world for a while, but reality stood in the way. There was an Astronomy class scheduled for the second years that night. The boy remained in the tower studying the heavens for as long as he dared before leaving to search for a different place to hole up in. He didn't care where it was, so long as it was far from his dormitory. With the state he was in, Mihnea didn't like the idea of being cooped up in an underground dungeon. He wasn't sure what drew him there, but he somehow found himself in Professor Lupin's office. The waxing moon had the man in the hyper stage of his cycle, so he was still awake and working on various things for this classes. It was approaching midnight and was well past curfew, so Lupin had every right to send him away or report him for being up late. But apparently he could either tell from Mihnea's expression that he was in a bad mood, or he didn't take issue with having company. Maybe it was a bit of both. Whatever it was, the man let him come inside and curl up in the window seat while he finished with his work.
Mihnea had gone back to staring out at the night sky when he felt something cold and hard gently tap against his forehead. He glanced up to find Lupin extending a chilled butterbeer out toward him. One of his brows rose at the sight of the bottle and he looked up at the man holding it.
"I never knew you were the sort to give alcohol to a student, sir." he commented.
Lupin gave a light shrug in response. "I've never seen the harm in having a drink or two. Especially something so mild." he admitted. "It looks to me like you could use it."
The boy considered his words, then glanced back at the drink dangling in front of his face.
"No, thanks." he said, raising a hand to gently push it away. "I don't like the stuff. I've got something coming anyway."
The man withdrew the offered beverage and stepped back to study him curiously. Probably wondering what on earth he meant by that. But as he opened his mouth to question him about it, they both heard a peculiar scratching sound coming from the door. Mihnea looked over as it swung inward, revealing a brief vision of Pixie balancing on her hind legs. She must have stood up like that to work the doorknob. The feline dropped back down on all fours and turned to grab the shoulder strap of one of his bags between her teeth to drag it over. The boy shot a reproachful look down at her when she reached the window he was sitting in.
"Where have you been?" he snapped.
He had sent a mental command for her to bring him blood more than an hour ago. He didn't have to search through the animal's mind to figure out what she'd been doing. Snooping around in the kitchens begging the house elves for food, most likely. Pixie dropped the strap in her mouth and slumped, giving him a quiet, embarrassed sounding meow of apology. Mihnea rolled his eyes and crooked a finger.
"Get up here, then."
The cat leapt up to perch in the window with him, while the boy leaned down to grab the bag. He fished out one of the blood bottles and unscrewed the lid to start drinking. Lupin seemed far more interested in the animal's appearance than in what Mihnea was doing.
"You can communicate with animals." he said.
It sounded like more of a comment than a question, so Mihnea only looked up and shrugged his shoulders. Lupin arched a brow at him and walked over to push the door closed again.
"Why am I not surprised to find you have a cat the size of a cocker spaniel?" he asked in an almost playful tone. He came back to his desk to turn his chair around so it was facing him. Opening up the bottle of butterbeer to drink it himself, Lupin sat back down. "Dare I ask where you manage to get that? Supposing it is what I think it is."
Mihnea blinked at him, then realized he was referring to the blood he was drinking. "It's donated." he replied. "I get care packages from home so I don't run out. It... helps me calm down."
"Ah." the professor said, accepting his answer. He crossed one leg over the other and took a swig from his own bottle. "Judging from your absence during dinner and Professor Snape's unusually foul mood this afternoon, I assume something must have happened between you."
Assume. The boy repeated internally. He'd always found that to be a funny sort of word. He cleared his throat.
"My mom says it's dangerous to do that." he said idly. "Assuming things makes an ass out of you and me."
The play on words made the man chuckle. "Your mother sounds like a very wise woman." he complimented with a smile. Lupin swung his bottle out in a wide gesture. "Let's call it an educated guess then."
The teasing nature of the amendment succeeded in lightening the mood, but it didn't change the fact that Mihnea would rather not think about it. He readjusted himself more comfortably in the window (he now had a thirty-seven pound cat laying in lap, after all) and sipped at his blood.
"We had a disagreement." he offered.
Lupin quirked a brow as he sat back to study him. "It must have been a serious one if it's sent you into such a dark mood."
Mihnea thought that was a rather succinct way of putting it.
"He thinks I'm abused."
He wasn't sure what the man was expecting to hear, but that obviously wasn't it. Lupin gave him a really odd look.
"Are you?" he asked.
The question made the boy's muscles go stiff in protest. "Do I look abused to you?" he demanded.
His words came out harsher than he intended and Lupin quickly raised both hands in a calming gesture.
"It's only a question." he assured him. "You were the one to point out the danger of making assumptions. The unfortunate fact of the matter is that when it comes to things like abuse or neglect, it is often extremely difficult to tell just by looking."
Mihnea sobered and forced himself to calm down. Lupin had a point. And it was nice that the man actually came out and asked rather than jumping to conclusions like Snape had. He blew out a long sigh and shook his head.
"The relationship I have with my parents isn't exactly normal, but they've never been abusive." he told him.
"I see." Lupin said with nod. "Well, I can certainly understand how your family dynamic might be a bit different from the average person's." He gave him an understanding smile, then his expression shifted to a more considering one. "If you don't mind my asking, what on earth gave Severus that idea?"
The boy's brows furrowed together in irritation. "Apparently he's worried about me brooding all the time, being easily agitated, and staying up late at night."
The man sitting before him looked even more confused by that. "How odd." he said. "I would think Severus would know better after teaching for so many years. It's not at all unusual for a teenager to be moody or take to brooding. I believe I'd be worried about a student who didn't do that from time to time. And you certainly aren't the only night owl in this castle. Abuse is an awfully large conclusion to jump to with so little evidence."
He spoke the last bit in such a way that there was a silent question lingering in the air. Even his expression became meaningful. Lupin was asking what else Snape had noticed that he hadn't told him about yet. Mihnea had deliberately left out the Potions Master's fixation on his scars. He had just been bitten in the ass by the mistake of trusting his head of house, so he was naturally leery of doing the same thing again. Lupin had always been trustworthy in the past, but some things never came easily. Mihnea took a long deep breath.
"It's really my fault." he admitted. "I... asked Professor Snape to help me with something last year and I wound up showing him something I shouldn't have."
Lupin's head cocked sideways a bit and a small glimmer of concern rose into his eyes. He studied his face intently for a moment, then glanced back toward the closed door.
"I won't push you into telling me anything you aren't comfortable with." he told him sincerely. "But you know very well that when the door to this office is closed, nothing said inside this room leaves."
Mihnea closed his eyes and nodded. He hadn't forgotten about that little safety net of a rule. Pixie sensed the uneasiness growing within him and sat up in his lap to bat a paw at his face. The boy gently prodded her into stopping, told her he was fine, then placed a hand on top of her head. How strange was that? Taking strength and comfort from the presence of a cat. In the midst of all this, Lupin sat patiently in his chair. He remained very quiet, waiting for him to make a decision about whether he would talk or not. After a few seconds of thoughtful silence, Mihnea cleared his throat.
"Do you... know very much about the Great War?" he questioned. "What happened on the muggle side, I mean."
Lupin sat back in bewilderment. Given the subject of their conversation, the question did sound out of place.
"To be perfectly honest, I'm not heavily involved with muggle society so I'm afraid I don't have an in-depth knowledge about it." he replied. "I was a little preoccupied with what was going on in the magical world at the time. But I am aware of the basic facts of the Great War." the man paused to twirl his hand in the air before him. "Insane Nazi vampires trying to take over the muggle world and the like?"
Well, it had been more complicated than that, but even if Lupin only knew that much, it was sufficient to meet Mihnea's needs.
"That was the main gist of it, yeah." the boy said, then readjusted his posture to sit up straight. "Before the 'official' war started, there were dozens of things going on behind the scenes. Things no one ever knew about - and most still don't. The Nazis were looking for anything to make themselves more powerful. Things they would be able to use in their armies. I was..." Mihnea hesistated for a moment, torn over whether he should use the word floating around in his head, then decided there were still some things he wasn't ready to reveal. "Born around that time. We don't really know how the Nazis managed to figure all this out and do what they did, but my father is a very powerful vampire and my mother is... very talented with magic. A human/vampire hybrid like me has never existed before, so the Nazis thought that if they could find some way of controlling me, they could... use me."
His professor went very still and stared at him in disbelief. "Please tell me you're not serious." he said in a quiet voice.
Mihnea tried to swallow down the weight that was climbing into his throat. "I'm very serious, sir." he told him. "They took me and they... performed all these experiments and surgeries... trying to put these... things in me that would let them control my mind. They never put me to sleep or gave me drugs... everything was done while I was wide awake and strapped down to a table. And inbetween all the experiments they did, they would shove a tube down my throat, hook me up to all these machines, then... stick me down in a tiny little vat of water to keep me out of the way." he took a breath and noticed his hands were shaking. Mihnea clenched them into fists to make it stop. "Nothing they did ever worked, but... I still have this."
Without offering an explanation for what he was doing, the boy pushed himself up out of the window seat and turned around. His tie was pulled loose, then rather than fussing with all the buttons, Mihnea simply gathered up the fabric of the back of his shirt to lift it - displaying his back. He only held it up for a few seconds before dropping it back down and turning around. Lupin had scooted to the edge of his seat, looking absolutely horrified by the tale and the scars proving it was true.
"Good God in heaven, boy!" he exclaimed. "How are you still alive?" he asked.
"I don't really know." Mihnea admitted. "I was only a few months old when it happened. My dad managed to track them down and found me in one of their facilities. He says I survived because I have his vampiric spirit for violence tempered by my mother's fiery human heart."
Something about the statement made one corner of Lupin's mouth turn up in a ghost of a smile. "What a poetic description." he commented. He went back to studying him with that intent, searching expression of his. The man carefully cleared his throat. "Forgive me for saying so, but I have the feeling that there's a lot more to this story of yours than you're saying."
He should have known he would pick up on that. Lupin was a very perceptive sort of person who often noticed tiny things that no one else ever saw.
"There is." he said very slowly. "No offense, sir, but I'd rather not talk about it. I'm... just not ready."
Lupin pressed his lips together in a firm line and nodded. "No offense taken." he assured him, holding up a hand. "That's more than fair." With that, he allowed himself to relax enough to scoot backwards to sit in his chair properly. "Going from how Professor Snape is acting now, I gather you showed your scars to him without explaining where they came from?"
Mihnea sniffed and allowed himself to drop back down on the window seat. "I told him it happened when I was very young and my parents had nothing to do with it." he reported. "I think he might have believed it for a while. But..." he shoved a hand back through his hair. "I had a freak accident while I was home a few months ago and my arm wound up getting hurt pretty bad. It's fine now, but I had to keep it hidden so no one could see how fast it healed. Snape found out about it somehow and now he thinks that I was lying to him before." his hands balled up into fists and he clenched his teeth together. "I screwed up and I never should have showed him anything. Now I'm stuck in a place where I can't do anything to fix it. I would either be telling him way too much, or give him an explanation he thinks is lie. Do you know how frustrating that is? I have to stand there, looking my head of house in the face, knowing that he believes my parents are torturing me and trying to prevent me from learning useful magic. I'll be the first to admit that my mom and dad are far from saints, but if it weren't for them, I would be dead right now. Or trapped with the damn Nazis until they figured out how to turn me into a mindless monster. I owe them everything, so I wont sit back and listen to the insults. Not when I can't do anything about it..."
His speech had become hurried and pressured, so Lupin held up his hands to stop him. "Mihnea, calm down." he instructed. "I understand your frustration, truly I do. But... as misguided as Severus' actions are, it sounds as though his intentions are good. He thinks highly enough of you to be concerned for your welfare. There aren't many people in this world he cares for that much, so that's quite an accomplishment. You should be proud - and thankful - for it." he picked up the butterbeer, which had been set aside and forgotten for a while, to take a sip. "If you don't mind my asking, why is it that you refuse to talk to him about things like this? You don't like Professor Snape?"
Mihnea found the question odd. "I like him just fine." he replied. "He's a brilliant man and I respect him as a teacher. But that doesn't mean that I trust him." he waved toward Lupin. "Look at what he's doing to you. He's been throwing clues out to people about what you are for as long as you've been here just hoping someone will figure it out."
"Ah, but I am a member of the enemy house, if you recall." the man pointed out. "Severus has never held a high regard for Gryffindors and has always taken it upon himself to get them into trouble. You, on the other hand, are a Slytherin. Not only a member of his own house, but one of his favorite students. That makes a great deal of difference. I believe that none of his... 'disapproval', lets say, of me would apply to you." When he saw the boy's face darken at the thought of what he was suggesting, he went on. "That isn't to say I think you should go spilling all your secrets to him, of course. But considering Professor Snape's personal history and the type of students normally sorted into his house... I believe he would understand the notion of someone having to be careful about how much they tell other people."
The boy furrowed his brow. "You honestly think that would make him leave me alone?"
"I didn't say that." Lupin countered. "Only that he would understand. And I've noticed you have a remarkable tendancy for stubbornness, so I can't imagine how you'd be unable to resist if he chose to continually hound you about it."
Mihnea huffed out a breath of air and slumped. That sounded like a pleasant way of saying that Snape wasn't going to act any different and he would just have to deal with it. Not the greatest thing in the world to hear. But then, he supposed he should be grateful that the professor didn't attempt to fill his head with unrealistic expectations. He grabbed his blood bottle to drink down the last few swallows, then set it back down to peer at him.
"Don't take this the wrong way, but you're saying a lot of awfully nice things about a man who hates your guts." he commented.
Lupin shifted slightly in his seat, and Mihnea noticed an odd look in his eyes. Like a mixture of thoughtfullness and regret.
"Let's just say that when it comes to Severus' personal feelings about me, I don't think they're entirely unwarranted." he said.
The boy could only blink at him in surprise. He really thought Snape had a good reason to treat him the way he did? "What?"
The man let out a tired sounding sigh. "We were in school together." he told him, beginning his story. "Severus was one of those students you would call an 'oddball'. Very intellectual and interested in weird things - especially the dark arts - but physically and socially awkward. An easy target for bullying. James and Sirius tortured him relentlessly from the moment we met him on the train first year. Peter, God rest his soul, was afraid of doing anything on his own but he generally followed along with whatever they did. I like to think I didn't treat him as badly as they did, but... well, they were the only friends I had, and I wasn't terribly mature as a teenager myself. I may not have been the one to cast all the hexes and jinxes, but I did join in with laughing at him and I never tried to make them stop - even when it felt like I should. I've come to regret my behavior back then and I have apologized to Severus many times. He has every right in the world to not forgive me. There are some things that 'I'm sorry' wont fix, no matter how sincerely it's said."
Oh... Mihnea thought. So Professor Snape had been bullied by Lupin's group of friends? That shed some light on why there was animosity between them. But he sensed that the grudge Snape bore against Lupin went far beyond something provoked by childhood teasing.
"It still seems a little overkill for him to him to have it out for you as much as he does." the boy said. "Just about everyone gets picked on at some point while they're in school."
Lupin shook his head. "I don't think you understand just how cruel we were to him." he said. "As I said, I tried to stay out of it for the most part, but James once stole Severus' schoolbooks and discovered that his father was a muggle. He took it upon himself to announce it to the entire school. Being a Slytherin yourself, I'm sure you're aware of how much importance your house places on blood purity. Back then - and I see it still occuring today - Slytherins who weren't purebloods had to hide their heritage to avoid being ostracized and beaten by their fellow house members for making the rest of them 'look bad'. I'm sure Snape caught hell for it. Not only that, but Sirius once played a prank on him that could have cost him his life."
Mihnea's eyes widened. "What happened?"
"Well, my friends weren't the only ones who noticed the odd habits I had due to my 'condition'." the man told him. "Severus picked up on them as well, and since I was a member of the group who gave him so much grief, I believe he was set upon figuring out what was going on to get all of us in trouble. The wolfsbane potion didn't exist back then, so Dumbledore set up a place for me to go during my transformations so I wouldn't be a danger to anyone. Sirius waited until a full moon then told Snape where he could find me, knowing he would be unable to resist the temptation. Now, when I transform, all semblance of my human mind disappears and I can't control my actions. I don't remember what happened myself, but I was told later that Severus saw me as a werewolf and I tried to attack him. Thankfully, James heard what Sirius had done and thought he had gone too far. He came and got Severus away from me before I was able to do anything to him. If James hadn't gotten involved, I very well could have killed him or infected him without knowing what I was doing. Once I was human again, I was so angry at Sirius I didn't speak to him for weeks."
"Wait." Mihnea said, holding up his hands. "Sirius Black did something that could have gotten Snape killed and you found out as a werewolf, and you still considered him a friend?" he demanded. "And everyone is surprised that he betrayed Potter's parents to Voldemort?"
Lupin actually winced. "All I can say in my defense is that we were young and foolish." he said mournfully. "Sirius had a habit of doing incredibly stupid things without thinking of the consequences. He thought it would be a smashing bit of fun to give Severus a good scare - not stopping to think of what I could have done to him, or what would have happened to me if Dumbledore hadn't sworn Snape to secrecy afterward. I suppose we should have taken that as a warning sign, but we didn't. That particular stunt was the worse thing Sirius had ever done and once we all calmed down and forgave him for it, we considered it an isolated incident." he sighed deeply and looked down at the floor, running a hand back through his hair. "You don't know how much I've beaten myself up over all the things I should have noticed but didn't think were important until after James and Lily were dead. And poor Peter... he never would have stood a chance. They weren't the only ones Sirius betrayed. Sometimes I think they had the easier fate. They don't have to live with the torment of knowing they trusted someone who would turn and stab them in the back."
This time it was Mihnea's turn to wince. That was a terrible burden to have to live with. Maybe it was easy to say there were things about Black that should have sent up red flags of warning, but hindsight was twenty/twenty. It could be difficult to make judgements like that in the moment. He tried to think of the best thing to say in response, then decided it was probably better to stay quiet. So he simply sat with a frown on his face, absentmindedly scratching between his cat's ears.
"What was the freak accident?"
The boy blinked at the sound of Lupin's voice and peered at him in confusion. "What?"
"You said you were injured in a freak accident while you were home." the man reminded him, making a small gesture toward his arm. "What happened? If you don't mind my knowing, that is."
Oh. He thought. He'd half forgotten he'd told him that. Mihnea reached up to rub the back of his head. "It's kind of embarrassing." he admitted. "And you wouldn't believe me if I told you."
Lupin's eyes glittered with interest and one of his brows rose challengingly. "Try me."
Well... he supposed if he left out any identifying information, it wouldn't hurt anything to tell him. Mihnea cleared his throat.
"I was trying to rescue a damsel in distress." he said. He noticed the man's eyebrow travel a notch higher and went on. "She was... being roughed up and threatened by some assholes, so I stepped in and took care of them. Once they were gone, I went to check on her. But I didn't communicate my intentions very well so she thought I was one of them and she had gotten her hands on a knife..." he let his words trail off. "I'll leave the rest to your imagination, but it wasn't pleasant. It was like being tackled by a rabid wildcat from hell."
Lupin continued to stare at him. The change was a slow one, but his expression gradually shifted to one of amusement. Finally, it seemed that he couldn't hold back any longer and he burst out laughing.
"A rabid wildcat from hell?" he repeated between deep chuckles. "That's the most apt description of an angry woman I've ever heard! I hope she was a pretty girl. If she gave you hell, that would at least make it worth it."
Mihnea shrugged. "Not in a conventional way, I guess you could say that." he said. "And this might sound weird, but I personally thought she was a hell of a lot prettier after she tried to hack my arm off."
That made the man laugh even more. "Perhaps to someone else it would be strange, but I know exactly what you mean." he said, grinning meaningfully. "There is something about a girl willing to violently defend herself that is deeply attractive in an almost primal sort of way." he paused for a moment to tap his finger against his chin. "It's almost sad this happened while you were at home, so I'm not able to ask if this mysterious girl is anyone I know."
Let him keep thinking that. The boy mused. He arched a brow at the playful change in atmosphere.
"Now, Professor, if it were someone you knew, what makes you think I would tell you?" he asked.
"Oh, so you're going to be coy about it?" Lupin teased. "I see how it... what's wrong?"
All pretense of their lighthearted conversation immediately dropped when Mihnea bolted upright in alertness. He had caught the scent of something that shouldn't be there.
"Potter's here." he said in a low voice.
Lupin straightened and turned to look back toward the door. "Harry? You're sure?"
The boy nodded. "Not in the classroom. but close." he ammended. "About eighty feet or so, that way." he pointed a finger toward the wall to indicate which hallway. His brows furrowed as he identified the smell of a second person. "Snape is closing in on him."
That didn't bode well. The Potions Master was already in a temper after his argument with Mihnea, and Potter always seemed to set him off no matter what the circumstances were. When he caught the young Gryffindor out after curfew, the outcome wouldn't be pretty. Lupin knew it too.
"It sounds like Harry might be in need of a rescue." he said as he pushed himself up from his seat. "Stay put. I'll be back."
Mihnea nodded and watched as he left the room to go check it out. The distance and number of stone walls in the way made it impossible for him to hear what was going on, but he knew there would be a conflict once Snape and Potter encountered each other. What the hell was he doing out so late anyway? Not that he had any room to preach at someone for being out after curfew, but Harry was the last person who should be wandering around alone. Especially with Black having gotten inside the castle not that long ago.
He had no idea how long the boy had been out of his dormitory, but he imagined that his friends would know soon - if they didn't already. Connie, at the very least, would notice. After their parents had come to search the grounds for Black, they had given them instructions to keep an eye on Potter since they were the only members of Hellsing who could remain at Hogwarts long term. His cousin took the order seriously. If she discovered that he had managed to sneak out under her nose, she'd probably freak smooth out. Hoping to avoid any rash action on her part, Mihnea quickly dug a quill and scrap of parchment out of his bag. He penned a brief note informing her of what he knew, then folded it up and tucked it securely under Pixie's collar.
"Take this to Connie." he told her. "Be quick about it, and mind the trolls. And you stay there with her and dont let any of them leave until Potter gets back, understand?"
Pixie gave him an intelligent meow of understanding and jumped down from the window to fulfill her mission. She was gone less than five minutes when Mihnea finally picked up on audible voices. Lupin must have brought Potter back to the classroom with him. And the man didn't sound very happy.
"I don't know where you managed to get this map, but frankly, I am astounded that you didn't hand it in."
"But, sir!" Harry's voice protested. "I..."
"No 'buts'." Lupin interrupted. "Harry, do you not realize that this in the hands of Sirius Black is a map directly to you? Now, I don't intend to cover for you again, do you understand? I want you to go straight up to your dormitory this instant. And no taking any detours. If you do, I shall know about it."
It sounded like the professor considered the conversation over at that point. But after a few seconds, Potter's voice spoke out again in a softer, more resigned tone.
"Professor? Just so you know, I don't think that map always works. I saw something on it earlier... the name of a man I know to be dead."
"Oh? And who would that be?"
"Peter Pettigrew."
There was a long stretch of silence. When Professor Lupin spoke again, there was a pronounced note of uneasiness present in his voice. "That's not possible."
"I'm only telling you what I saw." Harry told him. "Goodnight, sir."
Mihnea heard Potter's footsteps trail off, but Lupin remained downstairs long after the boy had left. When he finally came back up to the office, he looked more disturbed and upset than he had ever seen him before. He tossed a thick, folded piece of parchment onto his desk and thrust a finger at it. Mihnea recognized it as being the enchanted map Fred and George had given to Harry during that first trip to Hogsmeade.
"You knew about this?"
Yep, Lupin was seriously ticked off. Mihnea figured the man already knew the answer to his question and he had no desire to find out what would happen if he got caught in a lie.
"I might have known about it, yeah." he admitted.
The professor's eyes narrowed and his face twisted into a fierce scowl. "And you didn't think to tell anyone?" he demanded.
Mihnea stiffened defensively. "Why would I?" he asked. "I don't get invovled in other people's business unless it affects me. It seemed to me that a map showing the location of everyone in the castle would be a handy thing for him to have with Black looking for him. Potter might not make the best decisions, but he's not stupid enough to leave something that valuable laying around where anyone could find it."
Right then and there, he got the impression that Lupin wanted to give him a serious lecture, but was holding himself back from doing so. He only huffed in frustration and dropped unceremoniously into his chair. He rubbed a hand over his face before bringing it down to cover his mouth, glaring pointedly at the folded up map.
"It is not possible." he muttered forcefully.
Mihnea stared at him. Professor Lupin didn't act this way. Seeing him looking so disturbed and out of sorts was worrisome. He couldn't tell if he was angry at Harry, him, or something else entirely.
"Sir?" he questioned carefully.
The man blinked as if he momentarily forgot that Mihnea was there, then dropped his hand from his face to peer at him. "It's getting late." he said in a tired voice. "I think it's time you went off to bed."
He was going to dismiss him just like that? That made the whole thing that much odder. Not wanting to push the matter and find out what Lupin was like when he got truly upset, Mihnea dropped any thought of questioning him and grabbed his things.
Something strange had just happened, but he wasn't entirely sure what it was.
"Harry James Potter!" Hermione screeched. "What the devil did you think you were doing sneaking off by yourself?"
When Harry got back to the Gryffindor common room, he was immediately met by the anxious expressions and furious questioning of Ron, Hermione, and Constance. They weren't sure of exactly when he had left, but Ron woke up from a nightmare and noticed Harry wasn't in his bed. He had gone downstairs to look for him, then woke up the girls to see if they knew where he was. It was rather surprising how he managed it, as well. The stairs leading up to the girls dormitory were warded to prevent boys from coming up, so he had enchanted one of his gobstones to bounce up them and find their room to get their attention. Hermione noticed it first and shook Connie awake. They both were struck by the sheer creativity of the solution he'd come up with. Not that Ron was stupid or incapable... he'd just never done anything like it before.
When Ron told them about Harry being missing, the girls were shocked senseless. Had Black found a way past the trolls and snatched the boy without waking anyone up? Or perhaps he had somehow lured him out of the dormitories to make the job easier. Of course, it was also possible that Harry had simply gone out somewhere alone, but surely he would know better than that. After everything that happened, Constance would have thought he would at least tell someone what he was doing before running off. They had to do something about this. If anything happened to Harry on her watch, Connie would never forgive herself.
The three of them were preparing to leave to report the situation to professor McGonagall so a search could be mounted when Pixie showed up with a message from Mihnea. God love him, he must have known they would be worried sick when they discovered Harry wasn't where he should be. The letter said that the boy had been out wandering the hallways and was found by Snape. Lupin was going to get involved to keep the Potions Master from doing anything too awful to him. It wasn't much information to go on, but at least they could set their thoughts of torture and murder to the side.
By the time Harry returned, their worry and concern for his safety had disintegrated into ire over him doing something so incredibly foolish. Even Ron, who usually sided with Harry on matters like this, joined the girls in lecturing him.
"For God's sake guys, I said I was sorry!" Harry exclaimed. "Will you calm down? Nothing happened." he focused on Hermione, who was giving him considerably hell more than the other two. "And since when did you turn into my mother?"
"Since you started acting like you needed one!" she declared, planting her hands on her hips. "Honestly, sometimes I wonder if you have a brain behind that thick skull of yours."
Ron actually stepped past the girls to grab Harry's shoulders and pull him further into the common room. "Dont ever do that to me again, mate." he said. "I think I lost ten years of my life! You could have at least woken someone up to say what you were doing! Do you know how scary that is, waking up and seeing you gone without a trace? Bleeding hell, Harry, I've been sleeping with my wand under my pillow every night since Black last broke in, and you had me thinking he'd done it again and got past me!"
Constance's irritation with Harry dropped just long enough for her to stare at the boy. "You sleep with your wand under your pillow?"
Hermione appeared equally disturbed by the idea. "For goodness sake, Ronald, don't you know how dangerous that is?" she asked him. "You could snap it in two from moving about or it could go off and set the bed on fire or worse!"
Ron crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. "I don't toss and turn nearly enough to break it." he said resolutely. "And I'd rather accidentally set the bed on fire while I'm asleep than wake up with a lunatic standing over me where I can't get to it!"
It was still a dangerous thing to do, but you couldn't really argue with his logic. Leaving his wand laying on the bedside table hadn't served him very well during the last encounter with Black. Connie sighed and reached up to rub at her temples.
"Anyway, the point is we all know that Black knows how to get into the castle and into this dorm." she said, then pointed toward the portrait hole. "Those God awful trolls are the only thing that's keeping him out now. You sneaking out in the middle of the night, alone, is making it that much easier for him to get you!"
Harry's jaw clenched and he glared at her. "What do you suggest I do then?" he asked. "Just go to class then lock myself up in my room until he's caught? That's the same as being in jail and none of you would agree to it."
"Of course not!" she said. "Look, all I'm saying is that we have to be careful what we do now. And you have to take into account that things are more dangerous for you than anyone else and that we are going to be worried about you whether you like it or not." Constance paused to look at each one of them. "Maybe agreeing to never sneak around after curfew is unreasonable - because I think we all know it's going to happen - but... could we at least promise not to do it alone? All of us, not just Harry. At least then if something happened, there would be another person there to watch your back or get help if they had to."
It wasn't as safe as just staying in the dorms all the time would be, but doing things as group was the most realistic option. Ron agreed with the idea, and while Hermione obviously wanted to argue that going out in the first place was stupid, she seemed to realize that it wasn't something they would ever live up to. Even she got pulled into doing things that were against the rules from time to time. Harry was the last to say anything. He tried to argue that he was the target, so them staying with him all the time just increased their chances of getting hurt because of him. Hermione immediately rebuked him for thinking such a thing, saying that they had agreed from the very beginning that they were in this together. He wasn't going to face anything alone, no matter how much he disliked the idea of them being involved. Harry seemed to constantly forget how protective they were of him, and the reminder of their feelings made him back down. From that moment on, they had a pact to make use of the idea of safety in numbers. No one would go out after hours alone, and if possible, they would let the others know so the ones left behind wouldn't freak out about them being missing and do something rash that could needlessly get them in trouble.
"So what were you doing, anyway?" Ron asked as they made their way over to the sitting area.
Harry's face wrinkled up as he slumped down on one of the sofas. "I saw Peter Pettigrew's name on the map." he replied. "But he's dead, so I couldn't figure out why it would be there. I went out to see what might be going on."
That was strange, to say the least. Connie frowned. "Did you find anything?"
"No." the boy replied, shaking his head. "I went down to the hallway where he supposedly was, but I couldn't see anyone there. I mean, according to the map, he was directly in front of me for a long time and walked right on top of me." His brows furrowed with thought. "And the trail on the map was... odd. Usually, it shows people walking in straight lines, but Pettigrew's name was all over the place. Darting back and forth... almost like he were drunk or something. The ghosts here don't show up on the map, and there's no reason why a dead man's name should have been on it. I guess it was just being wonky."
Hermione rested her chin on the back of her hand thoughtfully. "Well... I've heard that some magical objects can weaken or become unpredictable with age." she commented. "We have no way of knowing how old that map really is. There's no telling how long it had been laying in that drawer in Filch's office before Fred and George stole it." she peered at Connie sideways. "And didn't they say they had to experiment to figure out the right words to say to make it work? The smallest change in pronunciation can make a spell go haywire, so they might have accidently said something that damaged the enchantment on it."
"If that's true, then wouldn't it have messed up before now?" Harry questioned. "Fred and George never had any problems with the map, and this is the first time I've noticed it acting weird."
Connie thought about it. "Maybe it's been going on all along and no one ever noticed." she suggested. "I mean, how many people know the names of every person in the castle? If the map is showing the names of dead people, it would be easy to assume they were students in another house or something. You only thought Peter Pettigrew's name being on it was strange because you know he's dead."
The boy blinked at the idea. "Huh. I guess that makes sense..."
Ron shook his head. "So, what happened with Snape?" he asked. "Lupin didn't let him get you in too much trouble, did he?"
Harry gave a noticable start and turned to gape at him. "How did you know about that?"
"Uh... Bassarab sent his cat up here with a letter saying where you were and what was going on?" he replied, giving him an odd look. "You didn't know?"
"No, I didn't know! I didn't see Bassarab anywhere!" Harry whirled to narrow his eyes at Connie. "Is he following me around now?"
The girl rolled her eyes in response. "No, Harry, Mihnea doesn't follow you around." she said with a sigh. "He was probably out late like he always is and saw you. Besides, I heard he got into a fight with Snape earlier today, so if he had been following you the whole time he would have done something to help you get away before he found you."
Hermione's brows furrowed. "Had a fight with Snape?" she repeated. "What on earth about? I thought Mihnea was one of his favorites."
Honestly, did they expect her to know everything that went on with her cousin? "I don't know what it was about." Constance said firmly. "I just saw Mihnea before supper tonight and he looked angry about something. All he would tell me was that he had a meeting with Snape about signing up for classes next year and the man started sticking his nose where it didn't belong. It could have been anything. But with how upset Mihnea looked about it, it must have gotten pretty nasty."
Harry's eyes widened with realization. "Oh, that must have been why Snape was in such a temper tonight." he commented. "He was in a bad mood when he caught me. Worse than usual, I mean. He made me turn out my pockets and saw the map. I said the words to make it go blank when I heard him coming, so it was fine, but Snape pointed his wand at it and said a spell to try to force it to reveal itself."
Ron leaned forward expectantly. "What happened? It didn't work, did it?"
"No, it didn't work, but the map responded to it." the boy told him. A slow, amused looking grin spread across his face at the memory. "It said that Snape should 'keep his abnormally large nose out of other people's business'. He forced me to read it out loud to him, and..." his expression became positively devious. "Well, you can't say no when a professor gives you a direct order, can you?"
Hermione's mouth dropped open at the idea of him openly insulting a teacher to his face, but Ron thought it was hilarious and burst out laughing. Constance personally thought that it sounded like Snape had gotten himself into a 'no-win' situation where he would hear something he didn't like regardless of what he did, so it had been his own fault. Harry then told them the rest of the story. Snape had gotten upset with him after hearing what was revealed on the map and attempted to take it away from him, saying that it was obviously 'full of dark of dark magic'. Professor Lupin then appeared to set things straight. The map wasn't a dark object at all, but a Zonko's product designed to insult anyone who read it, he claimed. However, since he was the resident expert in Defense Against the Dark Arts - not professor Snape - he would thoroughly examine the map for anything out of the ordinary. Lupin took the map away from the man, then pulled Harry off to his classroom before Snape could think to give him a detention for being out late.
"I've never seen Lupin look so upset before." Harry admitted to them. "He didn't get me in trouble or anything, but he said I had no business having that map because if Sirius Black ever got his hands on it, it would lead him right to me."
Ron winced at the implications of that. "So, what, he kept it then?"
"Yeah." Harry replied, then frowned thoughtfully. "And... it's weird, but I think he knew exactly what that map was. I never said a word about what it did or how to make it work, but when he told me to come back up here, he said he'd know if I took any detours or tried to go somewhere else. When I told him I saw Pettigrew's name on it, he got the oddest look on his face and said it wasn't possible. I mean... he knows he's dead, of course, but how would he have known he wouldn't show up on the map or that he'd be able to track me with it if he didn't know what it was or how to use it?"
Constance sat back and pressed her lips together in a firm line. That was really strange. Lupin shouldn't have known anything about that map, unless...
"Well, if Hermione is right and that map had been sitting in Filch's office for a long time, it could be something that Lupin knew about from when he was student." she suggested. "Maybe one of his friends had it at some point and he recognized it. It had to have come from somewhere."
The girl sitting next to her sniffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "I think he was perfectly right to take it away, if you ask me." she said. "After the fiasco with that diary last year, I don't like the idea of having something around that can think for itself without being able to prove where it came from. And if it's in a teacher's possession, you know Black won't get his hands on it."
The boys immediately got upset with her haughty display of attitude and started bickering with her about it, but Constance thought that she might be right. The map didn't behave exactly like the diary had, but it was true that they couldn't be certain where it came from or who made it. Harry wouldn't have the ability to sneak about without knowing who might be around the next corner anymore, but maybe this was for the best.
A.N: In the real world, genethlialogy is a very specifc and advanced form of astrology. You come up with a chart for a person based on the positions of various heavenly bodies at the exact time of their birth - and that chart would cover damn near everything about that person's life in more detail that you could ever want or need. For the purposes of this story, it would be the study of how to calculate the type and degree of magical influence for any specific moment in time. Basically taking the position of planets, stars, conjunctions, moon phases, comets/meteors, solar flares, and even weather patterns, adding them all together, then using that to figure out if that month/week/day/hour/minute/second (continuing on ad nauseum) is ideal to perform a certain type of magic.
Why didn't I put that in the chapter itself? Because it would have been too complicated, and I'm lazy. :P