Disclaimer: If it were mine, would I be writing fanfic?
A/N: My life, I think, was cursed by evil pixies when I was a baby, I'm sure. I seem to be under the 'May you live in interesting times' curse. What this means, for now at least, is that I'm getting ready to move from Iowa to New Mexico (I think mapquest said that it was in the 1500-mile range of distance, but I can't recall the specifics.) As you may imagine, I will be extraordinarily busy. My updates until I get moved are going to become even more sporadic… Sorry.
Since I still have no internet of my own, and consequently, no access to the Lexicon, I've no idea when Remus' birthday is, so I made something up.
Inside we will see some of Remus' past, Harry's final project for 2D Art, some DE intrigue, and we meet a Sirius Rumor.
Chapter Thirty-Two: Is it Plot Yet?
Jennifer rolled over and stared at the empty side of her bed. Moonlight from the slightly-more-than-half full moon streaming through the gauzy white curtains made the room bright enough to see all the details she hadn't really wanted to acknowledge. She reached out a hand and laid it on the empty place where Allen should have been. It was cold. She couldn't lie to herself and pretend that he'd gotten up to get a drink or use the bathroom; the covers weren't even messed up on that side. She pulled the coverlet back and seized Allen's pillow, clutching it to her as she cried into it.
When the latest stream finally tapered off, she scrubbed a hand across her face and glanced at the bedside clock. It was nearing four in the morning. Knowing she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep again, she got out of bed, slipped into her old, fluffy bunny slippers and pulled a housecoat on over her nightgown.
Silently, she padded down the hall and made her way downstairs. Unsurprisingly, there was a dim light coming from the den. Her brother was obviously still awake, reading through the file his boss had emailed him earlier that day. She wasn't at all looking forward to him leaving. Without bothering with any lights – she'd lived in this house for going on thirty years, and the kitchen hadn't changed much in that time – Jenn headed for the stove.
"There's tea already made, Jenn," Remus' voice was a low rumble.
Somehow, Jenn wasn't at all surprised to find him up. She veered from her path and joined him in the dark, sitting at the table. Remus poured a cupful of tea and pushed it over to her. "Thanks," she murmured.
The two of them sat in comfortable silence for several minutes before Remus spoke again. "I was six years old," he said, his voice still very low. "In fact, it was my sixth birthday… I had gotten a pup-tent as one of my gifts. My father helped me set it up in this little copse of trees not a hundred meters from our house – we lived out in the country, you see. Raised sheep. Anyway, I had a torch and my sleeping bag, and… Merlin, I can't believe I haven't thought of this in years, but I had my little teddy bear with me, too. I was convinced Boris – that was the bear's name – would keep me safe. My parents were muggles, so they didn't know about the very real dangers that would be attracted to a fledgling wizard. I remember liking the fact that it was a full moon; Mum had once told me that the silver moonlight would keep me safe.
"Turns out, she couldn't have been more wrong. I'd slept outside before, and wasn't scared. It was our back yard, after all. I sat outside watching for falling stars until Dad called out to me that it was getting late and I should go to sleep. I shouted back, 'Okay, Daddy! Goodnight!' and climbed into my sleeping bag in the tent, knowing that he'd be watching to make sure I did as I was told." Jenn was enthralled by the tale Remus was telling, and had to wonder how many people he'd told; it was obvious from his tone that it wasn't a story often told.
"I watched out of the tent-flap until all the lights were turned off in the house. I waited for a little bit, making sure that Mum and Dad had gone to bed and were asleep before leaving the tent again. I'd seen three falling stars so far and wanted to see if I could catch any more.
"I must have fallen asleep outside. I remember watching the sky for a while, and then the next thing I knew, there was this horrible, snarling growl. My arm felt like it was being torn off, which, I found out later, was the case. A beast had me in its jaws, and was trying to eat me.
"Terror the likes of which I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy consumed me. My magic, which had until that point lain dormant, sprang to life. I didn't know that was what had happened, all I knew at the time was that a bright, white light appeared out of nowhere and forced the monster away with a loud bang. Until I turned eleven and learned of the magical world, I thought it was an angel that saved me.
"The last thing I remember from that night was the sound of my father's shotgun and a noise that was half-howl, half-yelp. I woke up the next day in hospital. I was there a week, recovering from the attack. My shoulder was shredded, and bones had broken. To this day, I still have a metal pin in my arm-bone. I don't remember a whole lot about being in the hospital, other than my doctor said that I was healing faster than any of his other patients ever had.
"Mum and Dad had thought it was a feral dog that had attacked me. We didn't learn the real truth until the next month, the next full moon." Remus paused and refilled his teacup. "That first transformation made the night I was attacked seem pleasant in comparison. I never remember much about being the wolf, but I do remember most of that night.
"I'd gone to bed after brushing my teeth. Mum came in and read me a story, I complained to her that the cast on my arm was itchy, and she told me that the sooner I managed to fall asleep, the sooner it would stop itching. I'd been asleep for a couple of hours before the moon rose. My bedroom was on the eastern side of the house, and with June being such a fine month, the window was open and the curtains pulled back. When the light hit me, I awoke fully, aware of an intense pain coming from all over and a queer sensation of melting. I thought I was dying and cried out for my parents. The pain seemed to last forever, but couldn't have really been all that long, for Mum and Dad arrived just as the transformation was completing.
"I remember the shocked, horrified expressions on their faces as they realized just what was happening. As the last of the changes stilled, my human mind fell backwards, unable to stop the instincts of the wolf from surfacing. I could smell fear coming from them… It's hard to describe, but though I remember the night, I just… I don't really have the words to explain. They weren't Mum and Dad anymore – they were prey. I sprang for them, a hunting cry howling in the air, and Dad pulled Mum from the room, slamming the door on me.
"The door wasn't strong enough, though. I managed to break through it." Remus stopped, took several deep breaths, and then continued. "I very nearly killed both of them that night. There were several close-calls. I don't know how, but Dad managed to get a hold of his shotgun… He didn't miss… My own father shot me, his own six year-old son!" Remus sniffled, and wiped traitorous tears away. "It didn't work, though. Wounds from external sources heal extraordinarily quickly in a werewolf, especially when in wolf form. The only lingering damage is that which is caused by the werewolf, himself.
"When the sun finally rose, I was exhausted. I remember that the change back to human was just as painful, just as intense, but this time, my parents stood watching from the doorway to our kitchen. Neither moved to comfort me, to see if I was all right." Remus' rumbling voice trailed off.
After a moment, Jenn said, "It must have been horrible."
Knowing that she wasn't commenting on the night he'd just described, Remus let out a mirthless little cough of laughter. "That's putting it mildly. Mum wasn't sure how to act around me any more. Dad… He… I don't really know what was going on in his head, but he acted like he hated me. He went to town that day and traded his shotgun for a rifle. Mum's silver-spoon collection disappeared from her display case in the dining room a couple of days later. I know he had bullets made… As an adult, I can understand the caution, but I'm still angry about it. From that night onwards, he didn't talk to me unless it was absolutely unavoidable."
"He'd resigned himself to having to kill you, Remus," Jenn said, her voice soft. "He probably thought that if he didn't show you any affection, he would be able to trick himself into thinking he didn't care for you. That way, if he had to kill you, he wouldn't feel as horrible about it."
"Perhaps," Remus allowed, "but it still hurt. They built a cage for me in the basement, so the terror of that first night never happened again. I was also told to never talk about my… problem to anyone. I went to primary school, hoping to find someone who would talk to me. But, though they were muggles, the other kids and the teachers all felt uneasy around me. I never really had anyone, not even after I got to Hogwarts – not until my third year, at any rate.
"I think Mum and Dad were relieved about me going to Hogwarts, it meant that they didn't have to deal with me for nine or ten full moons out of a year. When we got my school supplies, I picked up a book on werewolves, hoping that maybe magic could cure me and we – my family, I mean – could go back to the way I remembered us being before I was bit. I was disappointed. Magic wouldn't be able to cure me. The book also said that werewolves were Dark creatures. Reading in my other schoolbooks convinced me that it was unlikely that going to Hogwarts was going to be any different than going to primary school had been.
"When I got to school, I was quiet. I stayed in the background. I watched everything, but never really participated. I studied, hopeful that something somewhere would give me a clue on how to cure myself. I spent the nights of the full moon in a building connected to the school grounds by means of a secret tunnel, guarded by a semi-sentient tree. I never really spoke with my dorm mates, even.
"You can imagine my surprise when, on the first night of third year, Sirius cornered me in our room. It was always Sirius, always him, that bothered with talking to me. Peter was really shy, like most people assumed I was, and wouldn't have said 'boo' to a blank wall, let alone a ghost. James… he was always side-tracked. Planning pranks on Lily, on Snape, planning how to disappear into Hogsmeade for the day, how to cut class without the teachers realizing it. He and Harry have that much in common, at least – neither of them could stand to sit still for very long. Sirius, though… he was different. He was the only one of us four who wasn't an only child – his little brother started Hogwarts in our fourth year. He was the one who noticed things. A lot of the time, he'd point out to James that a particular prank wouldn't work because of this or that reason.
"He was the one who noticed that I always managed to get injured during the full moon, or that I was conveniently called away from school during those same times. That first night of third year, he cornered me in the common room after everyone else had gone to bed. He simply told me, 'I know what you are, Remus. Don't worry, though, I promise I won't tell anyone. I know you're not like how they're written about in books, else you wouldn't be here. I also have an idea, but I don't know if its possible yet. I might need to get James to help me on it… Do you want him to know, too? If not, it'll be harder getting his help… though I suppose I can always say it was for a prank.' I didn't know how to reply. I know I stopped breathing for a minute or two. When Sirius stopped speaking and actually caught sight of my face, he laughed and clasped a hand to my shoulder. 'Look, Remus,' he said, 'I can understand a little about what you must be going through. Your family probably doesn't pay you a whole lot of attention, right?' I think I must have nodded because he continued. 'I can understand that. Ever since I managed to get sorted into Gryffindor, my family hasn't been too thrilled with me, either.'
"I don't know how I managed it, but I got my throat to loosen enough to reply, 'A white sheep in the Black family, right?' It took Sirius nearly a half an hour to stop laughing at that.
"From that night onwards, Sirius was my friend. It took a little while for James to sit still long enough to listen to Sirius, but eventually he did. About a week before Christmas that year, Peter started hanging out with them when they were researching whatever idea Sirius had said he'd had. I didn't find out about it until the last full moon of fourth year. The three of them managed to become animagi so that they could keep me company.
"Suddenly, I was no longer alone in my world, watching things happen without me. I was now an active participant. The four of us remained the closest of friends until Lily finally realized what James' pranks against her were really about. When they got married, we added her to our little circle. I finally had a real family.
"And then the worst happened. Lily and James were killed, Sirius was insane and killed Peter, and I was alone again." Remus reached across the table and took Jenn's hand in his. "It was a miracle of the highest order that I got Sirius back, more than I'd ever thought possible, but I still remember those years without him and Peter and James and Lily." Remus could see that Jenn still didn't quite understand why he was telling her all this. "Jenn… One of the few universalities of humanity is loss… We all end up losing people who mean the world to us. The trick is making sure the ones still here, the ones who think we are their world, know we're still here for them. Harry thinks of you like a mother, you know, and he's been feeling rather lost without Allen here, too."
Jenn closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I know I haven't been here for him, not as much as I should. It's just hard, you know?"
Remus nodded, "I know, Jenn. I know more than you will ever realize." He let go of her hand.
Jenn stood and took another deep breath. "I'm going to take a shower and get some breakfast made. Would you see if Chad wants any?"
Remus nodded and watched the older woman leave the room, a small smile quirking the corner of his lips. At least he'd managed to get through to her in a way that her brother had been unable.
Harry woke up almost a full half an hour before his alarm clock was set to go off. He realized why as soon as he was aware enough to identify the scent in the air. It was banana-nut muffins. Smiling to himself, he got out of bed. Looks like Jenn's starting to pull herself together. I know that Remus can't cook to save his life and Chad's culinary experience is limited to microwaving TV dinners and frozen pizza. Harry took a quick shower and got dressed in his school uniform. As it was Monday, June first, it was also the first day of the last week of his muggle schooling. Harry wasn't really looking forward to the week, but he was feeling a sort of queasy anticipation for the end of it.
He read through his history notes, focusing mainly on the last chapter or two they'd covered in class. He hadn't really been paying attention during the class, too many other things had been on his mind what with Allen's death and all, and it was his weakest subject. When his clock said it was time for him to go down and eat, he packed his book bag and shouldered it. As he'd done every time he left his room since Dudley's attack on him and Amelia, he made sure his wand was secured in its holster on his forearm, hidden by his school blazer. His mobile phone was in his pocket, ringer on silent, because Andie had told him he may be called to come in to the courthouse to testify against his cousin at any time, but she had further said that she would try to postpone it as late as she could so that he might actually be done with his finals before he had to go in.
Entering the kitchen, he saw Chad and Remus having breakfast. There were indeed muffins, as well as waffles and bacon and eggs. Jenn was finishing up frying the last of the eggs at the stove. "Morning, Harry," she greeted him.
"Morning, Jenn," Harry replied, accepting the eggs she had transferred to a plate.
Their breakfast passed in idle chatter, during which Chad revealed that he'd have to leave the next day. Harry reassured the man that though his assistance had been invaluable, he didn't really need any further help on the matter. A subtle tension that had been knotting up the profiler's shoulders lessened at that.
Chad and Harry left at about the same time. As they were getting into their respective vehicles, Harry paused and hurried over to Chad. "Whacha need, Harry?"
Harry smiled, "I just wanted to thank you for all your help, and I don't just mean with the Voldemort-thing. I don't know if it was entirely you, but I'm really glad that Jenn seems to be pulling herself together."
Chad scoffed, "I don't think it was all me, but she's my sister. I couldn't not help."
"Will I see you again before you leave?"
Chad nodded, "Likely. I've got a few last things to do today, but I'll be back here for dinner. You probably won't see me tomorrow, though. My flight's scheduled for seven in the morning."
"See you later, then."
Chad waived and backed out of the driveway as Harry hurried to Viridian and then to school.
During lunch, while he was rereading some of his Latin notes, Harry was suddenly struck with inspiration for his final project for his 2-D art class. Ignoring his sandwich and juice, he tore out a page from the back of his notebook and began sketching. He managed to finish the rough sketch just as the bells rang. Harry was suddenly grateful that it was finals week; it meant that there wouldn't be any homework, and he might have enough time to finish his painting by Friday and still manage to get in some last-minute cramming.
"Severus, my friend… Come in, come in. It doesn't do to linger in doorways." Lucius smiled at Severus though it didn't reach his eyes.
"Lucius," Severus nodded in greeting. "Have you any news on our Lord?" he asked, stepping fully into Malfoy's private office.
Lucius stood and walked to a cupboard-bar, "Have a seat, Severus. Care for a nightcap?"
Though Severus hated the dance of formalities that Malfoy enjoyed, he replied with, "Brandy, please."
Lucius poured two snifters of the amber liquor, handed one to Severus, and returned to his seat in the large leather desk-chair. He took a lingering swallow before meeting Severus' gaze over the glass. "Our Lord is declining," he stated, somewhat bluntly.
Knowing that the situation must indeed be dire for Malfoy to have skipped so completely the hour or so of inane chatter before getting to the point, Severus wasn't sure how to respond. He could see worry and an anxiousness flickering across the surface of Malfoy's eyes. Severus could understand the worry but was at a loss to explain the anxiety. There was something else there, too, but it wasn't constant, nor was it close enough to the surface of the man's mind for Severus to easily read. "Has the research yielded no leads?"
Lucius shook his head and sat his brandy snifter on the desk blotter. "None whatsoever. We have managed, however, to rule out the possibility of Potter having cursed Him. The theory behind His rebirth and new physical body is sound, therefore, we no longer believe that to have cause His current… affliction. Medical scans are getting us nowhere, as we have no basis for comparison as to how His body should read – there'sno precedent, we have no baseline for analysis. Every reading comes back with oddities."
"For example?" Severus prompted.
"His sinus cavity and the portion of his brain responsible for processing olfactory input is nearly twice the size of a normal wizard's. His ribcage isn't connected to the rest of His skeleton; only His musculature is holding it in place. And, according to Healer Salus, His blood is almost equal proportions of unicorn blood, human blood, and snake venom. The human blood, too, is anything but normal. He boasts a blood-type of AO with no Rh factor – something that's completely against all laws of either nature or magic. It shouldn't be possible. And then there's the fact that he's also got so much belladonna in his system that he shouldn't be conscious, let alone walking around and seeing things!" During Malfoy's explanation, Severus began to understand that the normally stoic man was barely holding onto his self-control. "I don't know what to do… We've ruled out just about everything we can, but the Dark Lord keeps getting further from us every day."
The pair sat in silence for several long minutes, during which the barest glimmer of an idea germinated in Severus' mind. If it worked… it could change everything. In his naturally low-pitched voice – the same voice that could keep a class silent without effort – he leaned towards Lucius. "May I ask a personal question, Lucius?"
Lucius shrugged, "We've been friends for nearly twenty years, Severus."
"Do you remember why you joined the Dark Lord?"
Lucius scoffed, "Of course I do."
"Remind me, then."
"Why? You joined for the same reasons, or so I assume."
Severus smirked a little, "Assume nothing, Lucius. Why did you join Him?"
Lucius picked up his forgotten brandy and swirled it between his palms. "Hmm… I suppose it was because I believed in his message, what he hoped to accomplish in the world, mostly. I will be the first to admit, though, that the promise of power was a factor in the decision, as well. I am a Slytherin and always will be."
Severus nodded, "I understand. Ambition rules us all… But, Lucius, do you also remember what His goals were?"
Lucius was no longer focusing on Severus. He'd turned his gaze to the brandy glowing in the flickering candlelight. "Yes… He wanted to remove muggle influence from our society. He said the first step was to eliminate the existing threat in the mudblood population."
"Do you know why that was his goal? We are so much more powerful than muggles… What do we have to fear from them?"
Lucius leveled an incredulous stare at Severus. "It's in all the history books, Severus. Don't tell me you've already forgotten the lectures from Binns on the muggles' witch-hunts throughout history. We may be more powerful than they, on an individual basis, but even the most powerful of us cannot hold forever against an army. They fear what they don't understand, and they don't understand magic – never have, and likely never will."
Severus suddenly seemingly jumped tracks, "Ignore for the moment, Lucius, that you owe your life to a muggle," Severus ignored Lucius' glare at the reminder and continued, "How does killing off mudbloods accomplish the safety of our world?"
"It further limits the involvement or knowledge of muggles in the affairs of our world. Severus, you know this! Is there a bloody point to this? If so, could you please come to it before the night is over?"
If Severus had needed any other indication that Lucius was nearly at the end of his tether, that was it. "The point, my friend," he said, leaning even closer to Lucius' desk, "is merely this: What has the Dark Lord done in the last nineteen years that supports the goals you agreed to?"
Lucius' jaw dropped open as though he was about to reply, but snapped shut again with an audible click of teeth. Severus could tell he'd reached through and found the source of that unidentifiable flicker he'd noticed earlier. He sat his brandy snifter on the edge of Lucius' desk. "When – if you can answer that, Lucius, you know where to find me. I'll show myself out."
Severus held himself together until he reached the edge of the apparation boundary surrounding Hogwarts. Upon seeing the lights of the sleeping castle just ahead, Severus let go of his customary poise for a few minutes and allowed the complete ramifications of the gamble he'd just made to play out in his head. He'd be lying to himself if he didn't admit to being more scared than he'd ever been before, but he also felt truly hopeful for… the first time in his life.
For the next three days, the second, third and fourth of June, Harry subsisted on barely three hours of sleep a night and managed to stay alert during the day through copious consumption of coffee – the 'high-octane' kind, as Allen would have called it, strong enough to nearly dissolve the cup. Chad and Harry spent about an hour talking the night before he left, and both promised to keep in touch. Between studying for his final exams, fleshing out more ideas for BKE, and working on his final project for 2D Art, Harry was lucky to get the amount of sleep he had, but just as the clock ticked over to Friday, June fifth, Harry put the finishing touches on the massive painting. His work for the night was not quite over, though. He borrowed Jenn's hairdryer and made sure the last layer of color would be dry enough for transport the next morning before finally succumbing to sleep. Luckily, the only thing he had to do that day was turn in his project, and then he could return home and go back to bed; all of his other tests had completed earlier in the week.
Friday morning was thankfully warm and, if not precisely sunny, dry. With Remus' help, Harry got the painting moved to school. He and Remus carried it to the Art room, where Mr. Thatcher greeted them from his cluttered desk. The man with the blonde ponytail and paint-spattered clothes stood up, his handmade coffee mug in hand, and smiled. "Let's see it, then."
Harry began unwrapping the brown paper that had protected his work en route. "This is Remus Lupin, Mr. Thatcher. Remus, this is Jacob Thatcher, my art instructor."
The two men nodded at each other, Mr. Thatcher too occupied with seeing the unveiling of his favorite student's work to greet Remus properly, and Remus' hands were full of paper and twine. As the last piece of brown paper was removed, Harry stepped back and watched his mentor and teacher look over the painting. He smiled a little at the awestruck look on Remus' face, but couldn't tell what Mr. Thatcher was thinking.
For all that Harry felt as though the painting had been rushed, Jacob Thatcher couldn't find any evidence of it. The canvass, approximately six feet wide and five and a half or so tall, was covered completely. He backed away from the painting and looked at it from most of the way across the room. He nodded to himself, it was as he'd thought, Harry had used a collage of smaller pictures to create a larger image. From across the room, Jacob could see that the canvas showed a close-up of Harry's eyes, glasses, hairline, and scar. Stepping closer to the image showed that the greater image consisted of dozens of portraits, animals, and other scenes. Jacob could recognize the man who had helped Harry carry in the work in several of the scenes, often with a taller man with blue eyes. He could also recognize Jennifer Kellerman and her late husband in several of the scenes. Each of the smaller scenes blended seamlessly with the ones that bordered it. It was a surprisingly sophisticated work for a student just finishing up secondary school.
With each minute that passed while Mr. Thatcher was examining his work, Harry became more nervous. After nearly twenty minutes of tense silence, he cleared his throat. "Um… Mr. Thatcher?"
A little startled by the sudden interruption, Jacob looked up. He had to grin a little at the obvious tension his star pupil was under. "Are you certain you won't reconsider going to university for art?"
Harry returned the grin, albeit a little weakly, "Yes, Mr. Thatcher. If I don't have to just to go, then I don't think I will. I like painting and drawing and whatnot, but I don't think I could make it my life."
Shaking his head in disbelief, Mr. Thatcher replied, "Well, Mr. Potter. If you've done even half so well in your other classes, I don't think you'll have much to worry about. I'm sure any university would be happy to have you join them."
"Thanks," Harry brightened somewhat.
Jacob nodded, "I mean it, Harry. You're going to be missed around here, I'm sure. In any case, you'll be going to the commencement ceremony next Friday?"
"Yes. It's at six o'clock, right?"
"That it is," Jacob replied, returning his gaze to the painting.
"See you later," Harry said before leaving. As he and Remus were making their way out of the unnaturally quiet school, Harry sighed. "I don't know if I'm happy about finally being done, or sad about it being over. I'd really started enjoying school this year, now that it wasn't just an escape from the Dursleys."
"I think I know how you feel, Harry," Remus responded. "I wasn't sure whether I should have felt happy about finishing Hogwarts, sad at leaving, or worried about being on my own."
That night, O'Malley's Pub was very nearly overflowing. Sirius, Remus, and Jenn invited Andie, Ted, and their daughter, as well as Mike, Bea, and Tim, Arthur and Molly, Ron, the twins, Hermione, and Nigel out to celebrate Harry finishing Stonewall. The only one they'd invited who'd declined was Hermione, but most who actually knew the girl understood that there wasn't much on planet Earth that would pull her from her books a scant two days before the beginning of her NEWTs. Everyone else, though, could come and this was in addition to the pub's normal workload of customers. It was loud, boisterous, and everyone was having a lot of fun. The twins had taken to toasting Harry every five minutes. Just as the pizzas were showing up, Sirius stood and made his own toast to his godson, "To Harry! May he make everyone's life as interesting as he's made mine!"
Sick of being toasted to, Harry stood and shook his head. He raised his glass and retorted with, "To absent friends – may we never forget them." The crowd stilled momentarily, before echoing Harry's toast, but the slightly somber feel didn't last long; it was a party, after all.
Everyone was clustered around several of the round tables in the middle of the pub, eating and drinking and chatting over the loud music from the jukebox in the corner. Andie and Ted were dancing, as were Mike and Bea and Tonks and Harry. Tonks' hair was currently striped horizontally red, yellow, and green. Remus thought she looked rather like a traffic light. Sirius and he were sitting at an otherwise empty table – they had been sharing with Ron and Harry, but Ron was now talking with the twins at the next table over. Sirius kept staring off into space. After the third time, Remus elbowed his friend. "What's wrong?"
Sirius shook his head, a mischievous grin on his face, "Nothing, Moony."
"Then why do you keep zoning out on me?"
Sirius said nothing, just inclined his head a little in the direction he'd been staring. Remus looked and saw just what had captured his best mate's attention. He snickered a little. "Go talk to her, Padfoot."
Sirius' blue eyes twinkled, "I think I will. Back later, Moony."
Remus could only laugh as he watched Sirius weave his way through the people and approach the woman who had been sitting alone in a corner booth. She was extremely pretty, with long curly dark hair that could have been either black or brown – the light was too low in the pub to tell for sure – olive skin, and very dark eyes. As Sirius neared, the rest of her face slowly became more clear. She had high cheekbones, full eyelashes, bright red, pouty lips, and a square jaw line. She was wearing a short-sleeved blouse with a deep V-cut neck, that hinted at cleavage, though didn't show any. It was the same bright red as her lipstick.
"Hi," Sirius greeted her, smiling broadly. "Care for a drink?"
The woman looked up and Sirius had the distinct impression she was dissecting him with her unblinking gaze. He was wearing his dragonhide boots – they looked enough like muggle attire to not be recognized as wizarding in origin – under a pair of black jeans. He was also wearing a blue sweater – at Jenn's insistence – over the Rolling Stones concert t-shirt he'd had since 1979. His hair was getting shaggy, but he hadn't had the chance to get it trimmed yet. She shrugged and gestured nonchalantly to the empty seat across from hers.
Sirius' smile broadened, though an observer wouldn't have been aware that it could. He slipped into the booth and flagged a waitress for refills. The harried waitress didn't take more than a minute to reappear with a new mug of beer for Sirius and a faintly pink-clear concoction in a glass chimney for the woman.
The woman took a sip of her drink and said, "Thanks," in a voice that carried a hint of an accent that Sirius couldn't readily identify. Waiting until Sirius had just lifted his own beer to his mouth, she continued, "Nice boots. Dragonhide, right?"
Sirius tried to gasp in surprise, and instead managed to inhale a large mouthful of beer. Coughing didn't help much, it just caused it to foam up into his sinuses, where it proceeded to burn, bringing tears to his eyes. Laughing, the woman handed him a couple of paper napkins. "Sorry," she said. "I couldn't resist."
After managing to clear most of his sinuses out, Sirius met the woman's eyes. "I'll get you for that," he said, his voice serious, but the laughter sparkling in his own eyes made the threat into little more than a playful promise.
The woman nodded in mock-severity. "I'm sure you will. Rumor Watson," she offered her hand.
Sirius took it, "Sirius Black."
Rumor nodded, this time thoughtfully. "I thought so. You were in the paper a few months back."
Sirius shrugged, "Didn't see it. Hopefully, it wasn't too bad."
Rumor laughed again, "Don't see how it could be."
"Where are you from?" Sirius asked, "I can't place your accent."
"I'm not surprised," she replied, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "In fact, I'd be more surprised if you'd known. I grew up in Morocco. Casablanca, to be precise."
"Oh," Sirius replied. "What brings you to Britain?"
"My father," she said with a little shake of her head. "He used to be the ambassador to Morocco, but decided to move back here after my mother died about ten years ago."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Sirius sipped his drink. "Did you not move with him?"
"No, I was still attending school at the time and was in the US. When I finished, I was offered a job translating for the government in Rabat. When they found out that my dad was the former ambassador, they decided to send me here to work in the embassy. Personally, I think they're trying to get Dad to move back to Morocco."
"Translating?" Sirius asked.
"Yes, I speak five languages; Berber, Spanish, French, Arabic, and English." Rumor was having fun watching her companion try to figure out what to ask next. She could tell he didn't quite know what to make of her.
"Wow. I only know English and a bit of Latin. I'm suitably impressed."
Shrugging, Rumor replied, "Well, it's not that hard to learn them when Mother was a Berber, Dad was English, and though the official language of Morocco is Arabic, more people tend to speak French in Casablanca. The only one I had to learn in school was Spanish."
"I don't think I could keep them straight," Sirius admitted.
"Keep what straight?" Harry suddenly appeared at their table.
"Languages, Harry." Sirius said. He sat his mug down. "Harry, this is Rumor Watson. Rumor, this is my godson, Harry Potter." Sirius surreptitiously watched Rumor's reaction out of the corner of his eye. Her eyes flicked to Harry's scar almost faster than Sirius could register the reaction.
"Pleased to meet you," she said.
Harry nodded to her before turning to Sirius again. "Bea and Jenn both are ready to go home; Ron has to get back to school, his ride will be leaving in a couple of minutes. Arthur and Molly are also ready to leave. Tonks has to work tomorrow afternoon, and Ted has some meeting or other he needs to be at early tomorrow morning so they both need to go, too. I think Andie already left. Nigel said something about midnight bowling, and Mike and the twins want to go. Remus wants to, too, and I thought it sounded like fun."
Sirius chuckled, "Well… I'll be over in a tic." When Harry had returned to where the majority of the male contingent of the party had congregated, Sirius turned back to Rumor. "Want to come?"
Rumor quirked an eyebrow at Sirius' phrasing. "Sounds like fun," she replied.
Sirius could tell she wasn't talking about bowling and had to replay the last couple of exchanges in his mind. When it finally occurred to him, he laughed outright and got up from the booth. He held a hand out to Rumor, who accepted it and stood. She was wearing a flirty black skirt that came to just above her knees and red shoes that matched her top. She was only an inch or so shorter than Sirius.
As the pair approached the cluster of people making their goodbyes and paying their tabs, Nigel looked up and saw them first. He whistled in appreciation. Rumor smirked and sauntered up to him, "Yes, I know he's a handsome one, but I think he's more interested in me tonight."
Nigel was obviously a little taken aback. "I didn't … I'm not… I mean…" he sputtered.
Sirius barked out a laugh, as did Harry and Remus who were both close enough to hear what Rumor had said. "Come on, Nigel. Harry said something about midnight bowling?"
Nigel snapped his mouth shut before he could further embarrass himself and nodded. Before long, those who were interested in heading to the Sugar Cube were massed outside. It only took a couple of minutes to sort out who needed rides and with whom and before long the nine of them were continuing their evening.
A/N2: A couple of reviewers asked where they could find Mercedes Lackey's 'Last of the Season.' I know it was originally published in a magazine, but don't recall which one. I first read it in her collection of short stories entitled Werehunter. It's an excellent collection; mostly Sci-fi, some fantasy, and a couple of horror. Highly recommended.
In a few more chapters, I'll be coming to a natural break in the story-arc. I need to know if you, my wonderful readers, would prefer me to start the second segment of this rather lengthy tale as a second story or if I should continue onward with a single story.
Reviews are the greatest return one can receive on an investment of time and energy when writing fanfiction.