4
Bravery
He got to the Shrieking Shack in plenty of time. Now there was nothing to do but wait. And remember. Damn.
"Werewolves are dangerous only to humans, right?" said Sirius, with the air of one expecting agreement.
"Well," said Remus. He really didn't like to disagree with his friends on anything, but he couldn't let that stand. "Werewolves can spread lycanthropy only to humans, by biting them, and they have an insatiable, single-minded urge to hunt and bite humans. They're no more dangerous than ordinary wolves to other creatures, but that's still dangerous. Because, you know, they're wolves. Predators and all that. And, well, I'm dangerous even to inanimate objects, and myself. You've seen my injuries after my transformations. You should see the Shrieking Shack. It was furnished when I first started using it for my transformations, and now the furniture is all broken and gnawed."
"They're wolves," said Peter.
Sirius shot an annoyed look at Peter. "Yes, Peter. Glad you're following along."
"Wolves live in packs," Peter continued. "They have a social structure. You can't have just one wolf by itself or it'll go crazy."
Sirius, James, and Remus stared at Peter. Finally, James broke the silence. "Are you volunteering to let Remus bite you, so you two can be werewolves together and he won't be lonely?"
"No!" said Peter, sounding panicked. "God no. My mum would kill me if I were a werewolf. All I'm saying is, Remus, I don't think that destroying stuff and biting yourself is really part of your werewolf nature. That's just your reaction to being locked in a house by yourself."
The Marauders mulled that over.
"That actually ties in with what I was thinking," said Sirius. "We obviously can't hang out with Remus on the full moon when we're human."
"When are we not human?" asked James. "Aside from Remus of course."
"Of course we've only ever been human so far, but we don't have to be. We're wizards! We can become animagi! Look at Professor McGonagall. She can be a cat."
"You want to hang out with Remus when he's a wolf?" asked James.
"So he won't be lonely!" said Peter victoriously. He didn't always follow along with Sirius's plans, but he was proud to have managed it this time.
"Well yes, of course, that too," said Sirius. "And think of the pranks we could play on people when we have a real live werewolf in our gang! Safe to us, dangerous to everyone else!"
Sirius's maniacally grinning face searched the room for the correct reaction, which was an enthusiastic cheer, but didn't find it.
"No," said James eventually. Thank Merlin someone said it so Remus didn't have to. "You can't use Remus for pranking people. I don't know what you're planning, but whatever it is, I'm sure someone could get hurt. Remus could get caught. Remus could get in real trouble, maybe even expelled."
James didn't quite understand what "real trouble" was, but Remus was grateful for his support anyway.
Sirius walked over to Remus, sat by him, and put his head slightly too close in that way he had, so that his pleading grey eyes took up a lot of Remus's field of vision. "You recognize a brilliant idea when you hear it, right?"
"No, not the puppy dog eyes!" laughed Peter. "Anything but the puppy dog eyes! Look away, Remus. He's using his dark magic on you, you know he is. He's got me into so much trouble doing that."
Sirius was staring at Remus eagerly. He smelled excited, hungry, under the spicy perfume of the expensive toiletries his parents sent him from home.
"What's your plan?" Remus heard his own voice say.
Sirius grasped him by both shoulders, and Remus suddenly had the odd feeling Sirius was about to kiss him. He didn't, though, just stretched his maniacal grin even wider. "I knew I could count on you. You're a brave man, Remus. Sorry, a brave werewolf. Well, a brave Marauder, anyway."
"I didn't say I was agreeing—"
"Here's the plan," said Sirius. "Step one: James, Peter and I become animagi."
Peter laughed. "That's it, I'm out. Only the most powerful wizards can learn to become animagi, and not even all of them. You know I'm not very good at transfiguration."
"We'll help you!" said Sirius.
"This isn't like doing my homework for me!" said Peter. "This is real magic!"
"You'll do fine," said Sirius, waving an elegant hand dismissively. "There are books on how to do this. They're in the restricted section of the library, so Remus will use James's invisibility cloak to sneak in and get them. It has to be Remus obviously because he's the best at research, so he'll know which books to get. Remus, James, and I will read the books, and explain things to Peter as necessary."
"What's step two?" asked Remus.
"We'll never even get to step two," said James. "Step one is already impossible for underage wizards, and illegal."
"Think, James," said Sirius. "It must be possible, or the Ministry would never have bothered to ban it."
"They banned underage wizards from trying because it's so dangerous," said James. "We could wind up part-human, part-animal, or stuck in our animal forms forever, or have animal instincts take over our minds and drive us insane..." He drifted off, considering. "Yeah, it does sound fun. I'm in. Good idea, Sirius. I'll get my invisibility cloak."
That was how Remus found himself sneaking through the restricted section of the library, hiding books under James's invisibility cloak. Human transfiguration was certainly an interesting subject, intriguing in its own right, even if they never got to step two. Sirius hadn't actually told them step two yet.
The moon was pulling on his bones. He could feel it through the floor of the Shrieking Shack, through the earth, moving inexorably up to the horizon. He felt it appear in the sky, sending one thin beam of its malevolent light, which shattered every bone in his body, twisted his flesh, reforming him into the wolf as his human screams of agony turned to howls.
Lupin stopped howling. He just stood there on his four feet, panting. Lupin looked down at his front paws, which was a very strange sensation to someone used to having hands. He could see them perfectly well, despite the fact that he knew the room to be dark. His fur was grey. In fact, everything looked grey, even things he knew to be other colors.
He tried to take a step, and fell. He had no idea of how to walk on four legs. He'd never had his own mind during the full moon before. He had his own mind!
He had the whole night ahead of him. What would he do? He should have brought a book to pass the time. No, his paws probably weren't very good at turning pages. He didn't even know how to walk on them. He supposed he could practice that. He tried that for a bit. He couldn't muster much enthusiasm for the subject.
It was night. He felt a thrill when he realized what he could do. He could sleep! He could actually sleep, and not have to try to heal his injuries in a haze of sleep deprivation and pain in the morning. No, even better, Madam Pomfrey would come back at moonset to patch him up as she'd done when he was a boy, so he wouldn't have to heal himself at all. No, wait. He might not even have injuries in the morning! He wasn't biting and scratching himself as usual. Good Godric.
He looked around at the fragments of furniture that littered the Shrieking Shack, broken and gnawed by his teenaged wolf self, enraged over the lack of humans to bite. Now, rather than feel an urge to bite and claw innocent furniture to shreds, he felt only an urge to do some major cleaning up.
He sniffed at the air, and detected a faint hint of human. Madam Pomfrey, smelling clean, had left a very faint trace of herself as she'd dropped him off. It was always such a comfort to smell her coming back in the morning to patch him up. He briefly tried to contemplate biting her, but the thought was so abhorrent he shuddered. He thought about what that meant.
He wasn't dangerous! His heart pounded. As long as he had the wolfsbane potion, he'd no longer live in fear of biting an innocent person. It was safe for him to be near humans. Rather than a terrible curse, he now suffered an inconvenience.
His heart welled with gratitude for Damocles, the inventor of wolfsbane potion, and overflowed with gratitude for Severus Snape, who'd brewed it for him. "I'm sorry for ever thinking ill of you, Severus," he thought. "You are a good man. I will forever be in your debt."
With these happy thoughts in mind, he curled up on the floor to sleep. For future transformations, he'd even be able to enjoy such comforts as a bed to sleep on! He wouldn't shred it in fury.
He slept, right until the moon set, when he was awakened by the agony of his bones all shattering, his wolfish flesh deforming, reshaping into a man. He lay on the floor, panting. He looked himself over. He was uninjured. Weak and shaky from his transformation, yes, and tired, as he hadn't slept well, but Madam Pomfrey would have little to do.
—-
When he resumed teaching, virtually all his students, every class, every grade, turned in homework he hadn't assigned. Lupin really hadn't been planning on grading this enormous stack of essays, considering he was already behind on writing his lesson plans. Snape assigning homework that Lupin would have to grade must have been Snape's idea of a joke. Ah well, Lupin's gang has certainly played more than their share of pranks on Snape in their youth, so this must be payback. Only fair, really.
That muggle-born girl, Granger, top in her class, hung back after the third-year class was over, homework essay scroll clutched in her hand. "Professor Lupin?" she asked, with uncharacteristic timidity.
"Yes, Miss Granger? What can I do for you?"
"Will we get Professor Snape as a substitute again?"
"Yes, you likely will, Miss Granger. He very kindly agreed to teach my classes when I'm not well."
"Are you often unwell, Professor Lupin? We were all very worried about you. You know what they say about your job, that no one lasts in it more than a year, so when you took ill—"
"Miss Granger. My health is not your concern. I'm extremely grateful that Headmaster Dumbledore hired me despite my condition, and I am also extremely grateful to Professor Snape, who has agreed to fill in for me as necessary."
"He assigned this essay," she said, waving it. "To everyone. Sir, how can you be grateful to him?"
"Well, that was his little joke," said Lupin, forcing a laugh. "I'll have to grade them all, which adds quite a lot to my workload. But I know that you're not afraid of homework, Miss Granger," he said, trying to sound cheerful about grading the awful pile.
She looked shocked at that. "It was horrible for him to assign such a thing. I know what he was trying to do to you."
"Now, Professor Snape and I may have different homework policies, but I won't tolerate anyone speaking ill of him," Lupin said sternly.
"But he's after your job, Professor Lupin!" she said. "That's what they say, that he really wanted the Dark Arts job, but Professor Dumbledore wouldn't give it to him, so Professor Snape jinxed it so the teachers never last more than a year. You have to be on guard against him. You've only been here a month and he's trying to get rid of you already. I'm worried about you, Professor Lupin. You're the best Defense teacher we've had. I had to warn you, sir. I don't want anything bad to happen to you." Her brown eyes were shining at him.
Damn. This called for drastic action. Lupin laughed coldly. "First of all, if there is a jinx on this position, it was already in place before Professor Snape and I entered school as students, for our Defense professors lasted no longer than yours. Professor Snape is completely innocent of the dark magic of which you are accusing him. I will not tolerate slander of any of my colleagues, particularly Professor Snape, who has my utmost respect. Secondly, your grades are fine, Miss Granger. There is no need to flatter me in the hopes of pushing your grades any higher."
The poor child's eyes got wide. "No, I didn't mean it like—"
"You're in Slytherin, right? That was a rather obvious attempt at manipulative flattery, which rendered it quite ineffective, but I'm sure that some of the more advanced students in your house will be able to tutor you in subtlety if this is a skill you're interested in developing."
"Professor Lupin!"
Lupin was glad to see that her sorrow over her dear professor's poor health and workload seemed to be completely gone. Good. Caring about people only doomed one to a life of pain. He couldn't protect her from everything, but he could at least spare her any pain on account of him. He would be merely a competent teacher to her, not a person worth caring about. Of course, he also had his selfish motivation to drive her away so she'd be less likely to discover his secret.
The only problem with his plan was that her sorrow seemed to have been replaced with rage. The coiled springs of her hair seemed to be shooting from her head, pressurized by the furious thoughts ricocheting around her brain. Lupin wondered if he'd have time to put up a shield spell before she hexed him.
"I am not in Slytherin! I am in Gryffindor!" she shouted, much more loudly than necessary. She looked at the scroll in her fist. "And you're right, I'm sorry sir, at first I didn't understand what you were getting at, but you're absolutely right. I am in Gryffindor, and I'd damn well better start acting like it. Some things are more important than grades!" She tried to rip her scroll, but it was too tough when rolled up, which made her gesture less impressive. She unrolled it and ripped it in half. "Give me zero on this essay, Professor Lupin." Rip. "I shouldn't have written it in the first place." Rip. She looked at the shreds. "Silly me, I've been doing this like a muggle." She drew her wand and Lupin dived behind his desk. "Incendio!" he heard her cry. He peeked back up to see Hermione's proud, fierce face illuminated by the flames of her burning homework.
"I stand corrected," said Lupin quietly. "You are definitely a Gryffindor."
He wouldn't have believed it possible, but her expression got even prouder.
Well, that was a complete failure. Might as well go for broke. Very quietly, with the difficulty of one who was not accustomed to revealing personal details, he said, "I was a Gryffindor too."
Miss Granger laughed. "Was, sir? I'm sure you still are."
"I'm sure you have a class to get to," he said, managing a weak smile. "Don't let me keep you."
The young witch nodded, turned her blazing smile to the door, and charged away.
Gryffindor was the house of bravery. He was certainly brave, right? He wasn't avoiding anything frightening, was he? He was in the Order of the Phoenix, risking his life for the right side! Then why did he feel like he was no longer a real Gryffindor?
He gathered the pile of essays and walked back to his office. What would Godric Gryffindor think of him? Would the Sorting Hat come to the same conclusion now, twenty-two years later? Some dusty part of his brain formed a plan to sneak into Dumbledore's office to try the Hat on and check, but the plan required borrowing James's invisibility cloak, and was absurd in general, so he discarded it. He wasn't a teenaged Gryffindor, at least.
There were simpler ways to figure this out. What was he afraid of, and did he face his fears or let them control him? Well, boggarts looked like the full moon to him, and he faced that every month, but it would be cheating to credit himself with any bravery for that, as he had no choice.
Dark creatures, cursed objects, malevolent spells... These were things that made most wizards shake in fear, but which were his job. He had no fear of them at all, just a wary respect. Wasn't that bravery? No, he knew damn well it wasn't. Cooks weren't brave for working with fire and knives, they were just doing their jobs, as he was.
What was he truly afraid of, and did he face it or run away?
Greyback had said, "Ah, now I smell fear," and of course, the sight of those flames licking closer to Tonks had been quite terrifying. That had been his only moment of fear during the duel, when he'd realized he'd chosen a spell so badly. There were other flashy spells he could have used to get his point across equally well, but he'd chosen one that had put bystanders in danger, which had been a terrible mistake.
He already knew that about himself, that he was terribly afraid of hurting innocent people. That's why he put so many redundant safeguards between his wolfish self and the world. That was a good fear, really, not one he should overcome.
Was he afraid of anything else? When had he last trembled in fear?
When he realized, he knew what he had to do, although his hand was shaking too hard to hold a quill. He wrote the note anyway. He'd copy it more neatly later.
Dear Tonks,
I have not forgotten the kindness and generosity you showed me when I was in need, and now that I am gainfully employed and my situation is more stable, I can take some steps towards returning the favor. I would like to buy you lunch in Hogsmeade this Saturday, or on a different weekend if that works better for you. Please reply by this owl. Thank you.
Sincerely,
Remus Lupin
His third attempt was legible enough, although it didn't give the best impression of his handwriting, which was usually quite neat. With a giddy recklessness he recognized from his youth, he declared it good enough, rolled and sealed the parchment, and was just about to address the outside when he realized he didn't know her given name. Would "Tonks" be sufficient? He didn't want his note getting to some random relative of hers instead. He supposed he'd have to ask Dumbledore. Or maybe he shouldn't bother him. Maybe he should just burn his note as he had burned his first two drafts—
No. He was a Gryffindor. He was brave. He'd ask Dumbledore her name. Bothering the headmaster over a personal matter like this was frightening, but he faced his fears.
Lupin headed to Dumbledore's office, but saw Snape stalking through the halls on the way. At first, Lupin felt his habitual contempt for the git, but quickly reminded himself that this was the man who had freed him from his curse by brewing the wolfsbane potion for him. His scorn was replaced with a rush of gratitude. And Dumbledore trusts Snape, he reminded himself. Therefore, he is trustworthy. He's even in the Order of the Phoenix, just like I am. Snape was a good man, and it was time for Lupin to change his attitude towards him.
Here was a perfect opportunity to let Snape know that they were now on friendly terms. "Severus!" Lupin called cheerfully. "May I have a moment of your time?"
Snape regarded him suspiciously, his black eyes glaring from behind his curtains of greasy black hair. "You are already taking much more than a moment of my time," he said. "Your presence here has greatly increased my workload, as I now have to teach extra classes and brew an extremely time-consuming potion every month." He swept into his office, trying to slam the door behind him, but Lupin held it open and followed him in. Various pickled creatures stared at him with unblinking eyes from the jars that lined the walls.
"I'm well aware of that," said Lupin, "and I'm extremely grateful for your help. Allow me to express my sincerest thanks—"
"And now you're imposing further upon my time," continued Snape. "Do you, perhaps, consider my entire life to be yours, to dispose of as you wish? Well do I remember that you nearly killed me—"
"Severus— Yes, let's clear the air over this. That was a long time ago, and we need to find a way to put it behind us. We were children. We both made terrible mistakes back then. Mine was that I ever trusted Sirius Black. It was he who engineered the prank that nearly took your life." I'm not going to mention that you were equally idiotic, falling for his prank, trying to sneak into the Shrieking Shack in the first place. "You also made mistakes during that time. If Dumbledore believes that you are now a changed man—" Lupin stopped. That was the wrong tack, so he corrected himself. "If I believe you are a changed man, if I trust you, I hope you can find enough forgiveness in your heart to grant me the same—"
"The difference, of course," drawled Snape, "is that while I am a changed man, you are not a man at all. You are an animal. If you must interact with me at all, you should be groveling at my feet in gratitude that I allow you to stay here, rather than turning you in to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."
"That's an empty threat," said Lupin, proud of how level his voice was. "You know Dumbledore wouldn't allow that."
"I have work to do, Lupin," said Snape. His baseline level of irritation seemed to be rising to actual anger. "We don't all get an extra holiday every month."
Lupin took a deep breath. "Then I will get straight to the point," he said. "Do you know the given name of a young Auror who has recently joined the Order? She goes by her last name, Tonks, but I need her full name so I can address a letter to her."
"Dumbledore invited you into the Order? You?"
There was probably a limit to how many deep breaths one could take before being in danger of hyperventilating. Maybe it was time to switch stress-management techniques. Lupin mentally replayed James's account of how Snape had been so terrified that night, he'd wet himself. Composure restored, Professor Lupin patiently explained to the slow student in front of him, "Yes. Dumbledore trusts me enough to invite me into the Order, just as he trusts you, and Tonks. We're all on the same side. We all work together."
"Nymphadora," said Snape, clearly in a desperate after o get rid of him. "Her given name is Nymphadora."
"Really?"
"Don't you trust me?" Snape asked coldly. "You were just going on about how we're all on the same side."
"Of course I trust you, Severus," said Lupin after a pause. He got out his quill and wrote "Nymphadora" on the note, in front of "Tonks." "I'm off to the owlery." He almost left, but paused. He wasn't just a Gryffindor, he was a Marauder. He turned back around to Severus and gave him a friendly smile. "Oh, and just one more thing, mate. You've lived here a lot longer than I have. Which restaurant in Hogsmeade do you recommend for a casual date?"
"What?"
Lupin's smile could pass for camaraderie, right? Or did it look too much like a gloating grin? "You know," he said, grinning, "when you go to Hogsmeade for a date with a special someone, where do you go?"
Snape appeared to have lost the power of speech. Lupin marveled that there was someone in the world with a personal life more pathetic than his own.
"Well, I'm sure we'll find something," said Lupin cheerfully. "I won't take up any more of your time. Thank you again for everything you've done for me. I really mean that." He gave Snape a friendly pat on the shoulder. Snape looked at his shoulder in horror. Lupin could almost hear Sirius, James and Peter laughing as he turned and headed for the door of Snape's office.
Laughter burst from him without permission just before he'd made his escape. Why had Sirius always called him, Remus, the best liar of all the Marauders? He couldn't even keep a straight face for one joke! This called for some quick thinking.
He spun to face Snape again, so he was laughing right in his face, making no effort to suppress it. "Sorry, I only just got your joke, and it was a good one. I'm awfully out of practice with teasing banter," he said. "All my friends who used to tease me are dead, or insane, or in one case has been unavailable in Azkaban for twelve years. You must be similarly out of practice, as didn't quite a lot of your friends go to Azkaban at around the same time? So neither of us have had anyone to tease, yet here you came up with this playful nickname for me, 'Animal.' Thanks, that was great. You can call me Animal, and I'll call you, I know, Vegetable! We'll find another friend to be Mineral. We'll walk around the grounds on a beautiful day, arms slung over each others' shoulders companionably, and everyone will call out 'What a charade!' when they see us coming."
Snape's reaction to this was most gratifying. "I was not addressing you as a friend," he said coldly.
After pausing just long enough, Lupin widened his eyes. "So... You were flirting with me? Severus, don't you think that could be dangerous? Tonks seems like the jealous type, so if she caught you trying to steal me away from her—"
"Get out of my office."
"Of course, it all makes sense now," continued Lupin. "You seemed so obsessed with me back in school. You even tried to follow me into the Shrieking Shack. You must have heard that I'm naked for my transformations, and couldn't resist a peek—"
"Get out. Now."
"Oh Severus, I was such a fool, I never realized that your rough exterior was there only to protect your tender heart, aching with unrequited love, too shy to act on your desires. What would your Slytherin friends have thought had they known you loved a Gryffindor—"
A bolt of pure hatred seemed to shoot from Snape's shadowed black eyes, and Lupin slammed against the shelves behind him as if he'd been punched. He felt a glass jar shatter behind his head, and something with an acrid smell dripped itchily down his neck. As he pulled away from the broken jar, shards of glass and pickled eyeballs splashed to the floor around his feet. He reached for his wand instinctively, but noticed that Snape's hands were empty, so he stopped. Snape had attacked him with nonverbal, wandless magic, which was very advanced, or...
Accidental magic, like a child. With a look at Snape's face, he knew which it was. Snape, the cold and sarcastic, had finally lost control.
"Thank you again for your time," said Lupin quietly. "And please do call me Animal again. I will respond to such friendliness in kind." He left, closed the door behind him, and only then drew his wand, to remove the drips of potion and shards of glass from himself. He hadn't needed his wand at all to win that duel.
After the owlery, from which Lupin watched his heart soar into the sky and disappear, he headed back to his own office. He had little time for gloating. He had to get started on this mountain of grading.
He unfurled a scroll and read the title. "How to Identify and Kill Werewolves."
When his heart started beating again, he started unscrolling the others. All of them, all classes in all seven years of students, "How to Identify and Kill Werewolves." And at least one student, Granger, a third-year, had figured out what he was just from that.
Severus Snape, he marveled, as he ate a few fortifying squares of chocolate. Were you afraid to lose our old animosity? I need lessons from you in how to stop people from liking me. You are a true artist. But why go to the trouble? Why do you need to push people away? What secrets must you be hiding?