3.
Things that Haunt Us
"Look, (Grown-ups usually skip this part) I'm not about to tell you this book has a tragic ending, I already said in the very first line how it was my favorite in all the world, But there's a lot of bad stuff coming."
William Goldman
The Princess Bride
The photo won first in the second ever photo contest held by the Quibbler seven months later and if no one took the Quibbler seriously enough to appreciate the picture's worth then, they certainly did after it won a place on the Ministry's wall of fame for ''most touching after war'' photo two years after that. Nine years after the funeral and the teary-eyed and defeated looking picture of Remus Lupin was the most well known photograph of all of England, somehow reminding the world that though the Wizarding War was over, there were still scars left behind.
Everyone knew Remus Lupin's face. Everyone in the Wizarding world knew him as a friend of the Potter's and as the broken man who bravely tried to hold in his tears as the Potters were laid to rest. The Muggles knew him simply by the photograph's title "The Man without a Smile".
It pulled at the heartstrings of both wizards and Muggles alike, and despite the Muggles being unaware of where and why the picture was taken the non-magical people of Britain still fawned over the depressed looking man, blowing the picture up and hanging it in galleries for more to see, showing it in places like the Photographers' Gallery in town, helping the man who took the picture become legendary. Wizards and witches kept a black and white clipping of it when it was featured in the Daily Prophet on the fifth year anniversary of the Dark Lord's downfall, adding them to scrapbooks and sending them overseas to relatives in the States. Some had even paid hundreds of galleons for a professional print just to add to their collection.
Remus could not understand how or why anyone would love his picture. It was sad and heartbreaking and painful just for him to look at, why these people got a kick out of seeing him in tears was beyond him. Perhaps, he couldn't help but think, they all just loved to see a man find his breaking point, loved to feel sorry for someone they didn't even know because it makes them all feel just a little bit better about themselves because it's not them in the picture.
And the worst part? They didn't even know what he was, let alone his name. The man without a smile: friend of Lily and James Potter, yes, but Remus John Lupin: werewolf? They had no idea.
If they ever found out, he wondered darkly, how would they feel then? Doubtless, they'd ever feel sorry for him again.
Melvin Spengler, the photographer that shared Remus' face to the majority of the world, was ever so kind and shared a generous percentage of his earnings with the werewolf, since it was, after all, Remus' face that made him so well known. Spengler added a nice five hundred galleons to Remus' small vault in Gringotts every time his picture was used, bought or published. With art enthusiast buying the picture of him left and right, it didn't take long for his vault at Gringotts to fill beyond it's small capacity and the goblins had sent him a letter five years ago informing him that they were forced to move his gold to a bigger vault. This was before he even realized that the photographer at the funeral was making headlines with the shot he took at the funeral. And after starting out at vault twenty-five, one of the smallest and lowest of security vaults Gringotts offered, Remus now found himself withdrawing money from vault three-twenty; a much bigger vault found deeper within Gringott's tunnels.
Remus made sure to keep track of the amount of money in his vault that was Spengler's and what wasn't, debating often if he should just buy another vault to separate the earnings or to just send all the money back to the photographer. He swore to himself long ago that he'd never use the money he ''earned'' from that stupid, stupid picture.
He had a very strong feeling that this picture, this one picture he hated more than anything else, more than Black and Voldemort and dark Halloween nights, was going to follow him the rest of his life and beyond. It was just another curse to add to his lycanthropy. And when he found an unexpected Ministry owl perched on his kitchen window late that morning requesting an interview from the witches of Witch Weekly about him winning their next months issue ''Most Enchanting Eyes" award, Remus knew he had been right in thinking that
And why the witch's of Witch Weekly decided to attach the picture of him in their letter was beyond him. Like he didn't know what it looked like after years of it haunting him. He tossed the letter in the bin.
After shooing the owl from his window, knowing the poor thing was expecting a reply letter to take back, Remus was sure to close his window and shut his curtains,. He hoped any other Ministry owl would take a hint and not drop by with any more letters.
"Not bloody likely," Remus murmured under his breath as he poured himself another cup of tea.
"Merr-eow?"
Remus looked down at his feet to find a gray cat rubbing against his leg, her fluffy gray tail curling around his ankle in a feline embrace. He chuckled at her antics as he sat his pot of tea back down. "'Lo, Maggie," he said to her as he walked to his fridge. "Find any squirrels for breakfast?"
Maggie looked up, her long white whiskers standing out against her gray face. She blinked her yellow-green eyes slowly as she meowed an answer.
"No?" Remus asked as she watched him expectedly and he pulled out the last of his milk from his nearly empty fridge and poured it in a plastic bowl. The milk just barely filled the bottom of the bowl when the contents began dripping slowly from the carton. "Well, I suppose…"
Remus placed the bowl of milk on the tiled floor and Maggie hardly let out a polite purr of approval before she began lapping the liquid up with her pink tongue. Remus smiled to himself.
The long-haired cat found herself on his front porch two years previous. She had been a kitten then, a tiny ball of light gray fur that curled easily in both his hands cupped together and she had caught him a squirrel as a peace offering, meowing in the middle of the night at his door.
Remus had never really owned an animal before; they usually never really liked him to get close enough. Even at Hogwarts, he dreaded going up to the owlry where the owls flocked to the furthest side of the tower or swooped down at him, trying to scare him away. Even in his magical creatures class, his assignments would hiss, growl, bite and claw him, all sensing the danger that lived inside him. Not that the creatures hating Remus ever made him feel like he needed to stay away. A little dejected perhaps, but he was still fascinated by them all. In theory, magical creatures was his best, and favorite, subject.
Maggie, though, was the first to ever accept him. Remus even doubted that Maggie feared anything. The first time he transformed with her staying at the house, he expected to find her as far from his property as possible. But instead, the next morning, Remus found her curled up under his chin. Maggie had become his morning after companion and amazingly, Remus' transformations had become a little less troublesome in the days that followed. He might ache the same, but he found he cared less about the pain since Maggie brought him a squirrel tail the first time they met.
Picking up his mug of tea, Remus leaned back against his counter, watching his unusual cat drink the last of his milk and shaking his head as her tail flicked in delight.
Maggie meowed suddenly and straightened up, her large yellow-green eyes darting toward the front room. Her tail puffed slightly before she ran upstairs.
So much for being the fearless feline, Remus thought casually as he watched the end of her fluffy tail vanishing up the stairs.
There was a knock on the door and Remus furrowed his eyebrows. Maggie meowed upstairs in warning and he found himself setting his mug down, grabbing his wand from his pocket and headed for the door.
When he opened the door, preparing to unleash a good hex at whoever stood outside, Remus found a blonde witch, clad in a bright yellow coat and holding a dark blue shoulder bag, staring at him on the other side. He looked at her, surprised.
"Mr. Lupin!" she exclaimed excitedly, extending a hand for Remus to shake. "I'm Godiva Gumboil of Witch Weekly. Might I say it is such a pleasure to finally meet you!"
Remus shook her hand, still bemused as to why she was there. He was about to ask her, but she shuffled past him and into his house, her blonde head whipping back and forth as she looked around his living area.
"Well… isn't this nice?" Godiva Gumboil commented, turning to face him with a half-forced smile. "Do you live here alone?"
Remus closed the door, hearing the latch click into place behind him. He cast a quick glance up the stairs to see Maggie peeking her head around the corner. She was staring at the witch with her ears flat against her head.
"Of course you do, my apologies, Mr. Lupin," Godiva said with a wave of her hand. She turned to his fireplace and began studying the pictures on his mantle.
Remus was taken aback. "Sorry?" he stammered.
"Hmm?" Godiva turned back around questioningly and then, after realizing what he had said, her blue eyes gave him a sad, understanding look. "Oh, I only meant that after your friends died that of course you'd be living alone. Such a tragic thing to happen…" She pointed at one of the bigger pictures in the middle. "And these are them, then? Oh, yes, I recognize the Potters, Lily and James. And there's Peter Pettigrew! Poor thing! And… hmm, who's this?"
Godiva touched one manicured hand to the glass of the picture over a man with long dark hair and blue eyes. He was laughing quietly in the picture.
Remus walked over to the fireplace to stand beside Godiva and turned the picture down so the contents in the frame were hidden. "I don't mean to be rude, Miss Gumboil—"
"Godiva, if you please, Remus, or 'Diver', if you wish. All my friends call me that," Godiva corrected. She smiled, her white teeth obviously magically brightened to the limit. "As in I'm always 'diving' into a story!" She laughed at her little joke.
'Very suitable, Remus thought dryly without smiling. 'Just as you 'dived' right into my house.'
"Miss Gumboil, I don't mean to be rude," he stated again levelly. "But is there a reason for you being here?"
"Oh yes!" Godiva rummaged through her bag, undisturbed by Remus' behavior. She pulled out a lengthy piece of parchment and a red quill. "I'm here for your interview, Mr. Lupin! I assume you got our letter about you winning our 'Most Enchanting Eyes' award, yes?"
"Yes, but I-"
"Then we can start with a few questions and answers," Godiva said as she quickly took a seat in his recliner. "So, your picture entitled, 'The Man Without a Smile'… it was taken at the Potters' funeral. Everyone can obviously see the sadness in your eyes here. Would you say you're happy now that a few years have gone by?"
Remus watched the witch as she wrote across her parchment taking notes with a shocked expression. He shook his head at the absurdity of the situation just as Godiva looked up and the reporter took that as his answer.
"Now, everyone can understand, Remus," she continued. "You lost everyone you cared for the most that year, all in the span of twenty-four hours, but surely, things have begun to lighten up! You are famous now, after all! And as we at Witch Weekly understand, Melvin Spengler, the photographer that made you famous, has shared a charitable amount of his earning with you. He's completely turned your life around, Remus! I've come to hear that before the funeral, you were not very well off financially, is that correct?"
Remus crossed his arms and stared at the witch. "Yes, but –"
"And now, with your picture earning you money, would you say that you can now find yourself more economically well-off? I bet your friends are smiling down at you now, Remus, seeing that you've come so far."
Godiva was scribbling on her parchment again and Remus opened his mouth to say something, but she broke in once again.
"However, Remus, it is certainly worrisome, as I'm sure others would agree with me, that you still have a picture of the murderer, Sirius Black, framed in your house," she said, pointing with her red quill at the picture Remus had turned down on his mantel.
Remus felt his body go rigid at the mention of his old friend's name.
"How do you think the Potters would feel knowing that you still consider Black as a friend after he intentionally betrayed them? What would Peter Pettigrew say to the fact that you are keeping pictures of him and his murderer so close together?"
Godiva Gumboil watched him intently, this time actually expecting him to answer in his own words. Remus just blinked in surprise, feeling as if a flood of old feelings were suddenly crashing down on him again. It had taken him nine years just to feel the slightest bit better about his friends being gone. Nine years to get to the point where the hole in his chest stopped growing every time he looked at those old photographs. It had taken him this long to finally feel as if the world was spinning again. Now this reporter just walked into his home and made it feel as if it had all frozen over again.
Remus looked at the pictures on his mantel. The one he had turned down had all of them, James with Lily by his side and Peter and Sirius standing by, all laughing while Remus took the picture. Then there were four other pictures still standing proudly above his fireplace, all with one of his old friends stuck behind one frame or another: one with Lily and James with their son Harry; another with James, Sirius, Peter and himself standing arm in arm in front of Hogwarts; the third with him and James watching as Sirius gave his godson his first broomstick; and the last featured Sirius and Peter playing chess at the Potter's.
The irony of the last photo still shook Remus, and he did have to wonder absently why he had that one up there.
"I… they're just photographs…" Remus muttered while he studied the pictures sadly.
"Most people keep photos of the people they love, Remus," Godiva Gumboil said slowly. "Would you say you still love Sirius Black the way you loved James Potter or Peter Pettigrew when they were alive?"
"Of course not!" Remus found himself almost snarling.
"Then you are aware, Remus, that there are spells that can replace and remove people from certain photos?"
"Yes, I'm aware!"
"Then, might I ask why you haven't –"
"Why should I?" Remus asked, finally interrupting the reporter. "Just because I can take him out of those photos doesn't exactly wipe him from existence, will it? He was still there. He was still our friend."
"But he betrayed you," Godiva Gumboil said. "Resulting in the death of three of your friends."
Remus sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know…"
"So he wasn't ever really your friend was he?" she asked, scribbling away on her parchment again.
The scratching of the tip on the fibers was frustrating him and he looked over at the reporter in irritation.
"Now, it seems we've gotten a little side tracked haven't we?" Godiva said sweetly. "Let's get back to your picture. Tell me, Remus, do you remember what you were thinking in that precise moment as the picture was taken?"
Remus didn't say anything. He did in fact remember, but he wasn't going to tell Godiva Gumboil that. He remembered coming to the realization that he was completely and utterly alone. James, Lily, Peter and Sirius being the only ones he knew that accepted him for what he was, he was at a loss at how to face the world without them. At that moment, he came to the realization that he didn't really know how to face the world without the support of his friends.
At that moment, before the flash of the camera went off, capturing his face that had been plastered around Europe, Remus came to the realization that he was never going to talk to James again. Or write to Peter, or ever see Sirius. He wouldn't get to see any of his friends again except through photographs.
He had accepted that. It had taken him nearly nine years to do it, but he finally accepted that.
And this reporter was undoing everything.
Remus closed his eyes, blocking out the pictures and the reporter. But he could still hear her scratching away with her quill, trying, as he was sure, to describe everything he was doing and everything in his house the best way she could. He opened his eyes exactly the same moment Godiva "Diver" Gumboil looked up from her writing. He could see her open her mouth, forming her next question, but he was determined not to let her interrupt him again.
"Miss Gumboil, I really don't want to be rude or anything," Remus started calmly. "But I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
Godiva smiled at him pleasantly. "Oh but, Remus…"
"Now."
Godiva's face fell at the sound of his voice and as he stared evenly at her, she finally began packing her dark blue bag with her quill and parchment. When she stood, Remus stepped aside to allow her to show herself to the door.
Once she had left, the door softly snapping behind her, Remus collapsed on his couch and buried his face in his hands. He heard the soft pitter-patter of soft white paws descending the stairs and felt the gentle pressure of Maggie leaping into his lap. She pushed herself up against his chest and tickled the underside of his chin with her tail as she purred.
"You were a lot of help back there, weren't you?" Remus asked her sarcastically as he stroked her back softly.
Maggie looked up at him and meowed once before rubbing her face against his. Remus smiled dejectedly as he swallowed a lump in his throat.
"Thanks."
Lucius was acting strange.
Not that Regulus, personally ever really cared about the behavior of his cousin-in-law, but all the twitching and the nervous arbitrary glances the blonde wizard kept giving him over his Thursday dinner with the Malfoy's was certainly unnerving him. Even the man's son, Draco, was eyeing his father suspiciously.
Regulus tried to act unaware of Lucius' odd behavior in the company of his cousin and her young son by complimenting the food, or the wine, he even tried to strike up an odd conversation with Narcissa about the dinning room chandelier only to receive curt replies in kind. He sighed; coming to the conclusion that his persistent need of conversation was making the fact that the room, usually un-lacking of polite banter between family, was definitely in want of some sort of topic of discussion even more pronounced. But as it were, the unspoken theme of tonight's dinner was the odd behavior from the host himself.
Deciding, for the time being, he best keep quite, Regulus purposely took a sip of wine, a drink he never really cared for, just so he had something to do in the awkward silence. Unfortunately, sipping wine didn't take up too much time, and Regulus found himself uncomfortably listening to scarce sounds of silver on china as the dinner participants unconsciously ate from their plates, once again.
Narcissa eyed the untouched glass of wine near her husband's plate and cleared her throat politely. "Lucius, dear," She said, obviously finding, as the other two at the table did, that Lucius not touching his favorite wine during dinner was unsettling. "Perhaps you would care for some more wine, dear?"
"Hmm?" Lucius curtly looked up from his absentminded staring at his chicken and briefly acknowledged his wife. "What? No. No thank you, Narcissa, I'm fine."
Narcissa cast Regulus a troubled look when her husband began staring at his plate again, beginning to pick beneath his fingernails fretfully with one hand. Regulus sighed and shook his head slightly at the odd behavior.
Regulus pushed his plate forward, signaling he was done with dinner just as Narcissa slouched back in her chair. "Well, that was a … a lovely dinner," He said with a smile as a house-elf came to collect his plate. "Perhaps we can take a short break before dessert, 'Cissa? I think Lucius and I have a few things to discuss."
Narcissa gave Regulus a gracious smile. "Yes, a break sounds wonderful," She looked at her son as she stood. "Draco? Why don't you and I go wash up while your father and Regulus talk about work?"
When Regulus was left alone with Lucius in the dinning room he leaned over the table purposefully feeling the closer he was to Lucius the better chance the wizard would hear him in his mind wonderings. "What are you doing?" He asked and Lucius flinched inwardly in the tone of Regulus' voice. "Your family is currently in the wash room worrying about your sanity, Lucius."
It was then that Lucius realized that his wife and child had left the table and his gray eyes wondered the room anxiously. "I-I apologize… I'm not myself tonight it seems," he said and he looked as if he was going to pick up his glass of wine but then suddenly decided against it.
"Well, obviously," Regulus said, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair. Lucius watched him and the darker haired wizard quirked an eyebrow as if insisting on an explanation.
Lucius swallowed hard before whispering nervously: "I-I think…I think I found him, Regulus."
"Who?"
"The Dark Lord, of course!" he yelled, and realizing his outburst continued in a much quieter voice. "I found the Dark Lord. In Albania. I found him, Regulus!"
Regulus felt his face pale. "When were you in Albania?" he asked still trying to make sense of the situation.
"I wasn't but… I heard things," Lucius said, his eyes casting the fireplace on the other side of the room nervous glances. "Suspicious things. Strange possessing. Murders. The Department of Magical Creatures have reported an unusual amount of unicorn slaughters…"
"And you think this all leads to the Dark Lord?"
"It has to!" Lucius finally picked up his wine. "You yourself said a year ago that he was still alive, didn't you?" He asked and Regulus angrily looked away. "Probably without a corporal body, and finding any sort of means to survive…"
Regulus nodded curtly as Lucius spoke. "Yes. Yes I did say that, but that doesn't mean the activity in Albania is because of him…"
"Who else? Who else but the Dark Lord?"
Regulus rested his elbows on the table, gripping his fists together until his knuckles turned white. This was happening much sooner than he expected. He was thinking he still had another four years until… No, Lucius was just being paranoid. Seeing things that weren't even there. But it did all sound skeptical…
"When did you hear all this?" he asked.
Lucius clenched his jaw at the question and when Regulus looked up at him, saw an evident vain throbbing at his temple. "Lucius…? How long?"
"A month ago."
"A month…?" Regulus stared at his cousin like he was crazy. "And you're just telling me about it now?"
" I know." Lucius combed a shaking hand through his blonde hair, disturbing the finely combed tresses until they stood up at awkward angles. "I know, but I wasn't sure. I thought, surely, I was just seeing things."
Now, Regulus took a sip of wine, not because of the awkward lull in conversation this time, but because he truly, desperately, wanted to. The bitter liquid burned his throat as he swallowed. "What do you purpose we do then?" he asked hoarsely.
Lucius shook his head, unknowingly. "You said His return is inevitable?"
Regulus nodded. "Yes, I believe if He doesn't return now, He will at some point later on."
"And He'll be furious then, especially if He finds out we knew."
They both looked at each other, knowing what would happen to them both should the Dark Lord return and find they did nothing to help bring him back and feared the out come.
"Then… I guess we should…" Regulus trailed off and took another drink of wine while Lucius agreed.
"You said you found a way for him to come back?" the blonde wizard asked. "A ritual? What do we need?"
Regulus sat his nearly empty glass of wine back on the table and cleared his throat, feeling the burn from the alcohol again. He didn't answer right away, not really wanting to come to the reality of the situation. Better this happen sooner, than later… he thought. Get it done and over with and stop worrying it. "Flesh, blood and bone…" he said, knowing it sounded vague.
Lucius stared at him. "Of what?"
Regulus sighed. "Bone of the father," he started, hating himself for knowing. "Blood of the enemy and flesh… from a servant."
Neither one said anything after that, uncertain what to say next. Behind him, the fire crackled, the wood in the hearth snapping under the heat of the flames. Regulus hardly felt its warmth at his back.
"Then I propose this," Lucius suddenly said, sounding very official. "We can't expect to accomplish this alone. We'll need to find the grave of the Dark Lord's father..."
Regulus agreed though he already knew where to look. It'd hardly been a week since he was just there in Little Hangleton, the town of Voldemort's parents.
"Find an adversary against the Dark Lord and…" Lucius swallowed. "Find a willing servant."
"Simple as that." Regulus added weakly. "So you gather we should rally up the remaining Death Eaters?"
Lucius was staring into the fire again and he nodded, his gray eyes clouded with fright. "No." He shut his eyes and sighed. "I mean, yes, we need to gather the Death Eaters, but not Avery and the others. They haven't put in as much… effort."
Regulus looked at him quizzically. If Lucius didn't want to involve the others, then what exactly did he plan on doing? Start recruiting new Death Eaters?
"The Lestrange's have always been some of the Dark Lord's favorite followers." Lucius said with an edge of sourness in his voice.
Regulus eyed Lucius warily. "Yes, but… they're in Azkaban…"
"Then we should get them out…"
The fire crackled again and Regulus could see the faint glow of it reflecting in Lucius' eyes as he started at him. Surely, Lucius had gone insane.
"You want to break them out of Azkaban?" he asked and Lucius smiled slightly. "Are you completely mental, Malfoy?"
Lucius shook his head. "Hear me out here, Regulus," he said. "The Lestrange's have always been extremely… sacrificial… when it comes to the Dark Lord. They went to Azkaban for him, for Merlin's sake, instead of renounce him. Surely, one of them would be… willing?"
Regulus stared at him, in complete disbelief of what he was hearing. "You have lost it," he said quietly before finishing his wine. "But I guess it's a start." He shook his head again and sat his empty glass back on the table. "Though, I've just agreed we're breaking the Lestrange's out of prison. Perhaps I've gone mad too."
Lucius finished his wine as well and smiled insanely. "Not just the Lestrange's," he corrected and Regulus looked up at him. "Bellatrix is a good witch to have out on our side, but why stop there?"
"You want to break everyone out?"
"At the very least, all those on the same level."
Regulus wracked his brain as he tried to remember all those in the high security cells in Azkaban. There were the Lestrange's of course, his cousin and her husband and her husband's brother. Dolohov, Mulciber, Rookwood, Traver's who's been there since before Voldemort's downfall, and… Regulus froze in his chair and looked at Lucius with wide eyes.
Lucius only smiled back before he called his house elf to bring in dessert, obviously feeling better about himself since when dinner began. "I wonder how your brother's doing?" he asked and at that moment Narcissa and Draco walked back in and took their seats again.
Regulus hardly noticed Malfoy's house elf slide a plate with chocolate cake in front of him, and he hardly noticed himself picking up his fork and taking a bite. All he knew is that he wished he had more wine and he guessed he would probably be picking up something stronger before returning home.
Author's Note: I'm sure a nice brother reunion is just what Regulus needs to keep his mind off his Horcrux hunting, right? : )
Excerpt for Chapter 4: Monsters in the Dark
"Did you find him?" the blonde-haired wizard asked the moment Regulus stepped around the corner.
"In Little Whinging," he said as he watched Malfoy eye the paper suspiciously. "I found an obituary of the Potter's in one of the Muggle's old papers. It stated that Lily Evans Potter was survived by her son and her sister, Petunia Evans Dursley."