23. Wolf at the Door
Friday 30th October 1994
Tonks gazed about her with open curiosity as Lupin led the way into his living-room. The house was small and relatively basic, and most of the furniture seemed to have accumulated the kind of multiple scrapes and tears that even repeated applications of Reparo couldn't entirely set to rights. But it seemed clean, tidy, and comfortable, and that surprised her. She hadn't had contact with any actual werewolves since her training days, but the impression she'd formed then had been that many of them lived in squalor. Although to be fair, she reflected, that might have been because the ones I met were those most likely to cause trouble for the Ministry … Lupin's small house would have seemed like a mansion to the werewolves she'd known.
She looked up from an examination of the wallpaper to see him watching her with a mildly amused expression.
"I must apologise if this wasn't what you expected," he said politely, although she thought she could detect an underlying edge to the words. She wasn't sure how to react: was he apologising for the rather Spartan nature of the surroundings, or acknowledging that they were unusually luxurious for a werewolf? It dawned on her after a moment or two that the ambiguity was probably both intentional and ironic, and she scowled. It was vital that she keep the upper hand in the conversation.
"It'll do," she said, as brusquely as she could. "Let's get the formalities out of the way first of all. You are Remus John Lupin, listed on the Werewolf Registry with the identifying number L0027?"
"Yes." His face was expressionless.
"And you are, or have been, self-medicating with the Wolfsbane Potion or taking other appropriate precautions to ensure the safety of others on full moon nights?"
An odd fleeting look of something like shame passed over his face. "Yes," he said quietly.
"Very well. I am Julia Marshall of the Auror Office" – there wasn't a real Julia Marshall, but she'd chosen the fake name to sound as ordinary and everyday as possible – "and I want to talk to you about Sirius Black."
"Well, there's a surprise," he said. "Please, sit down. Can I get you a cup of tea? I was just about to make some …"
"Er, no thanks," she said hastily, choosing a high-backed but solid-looking chair and perching herself on the edge. Pretending to accept a drink had worked well enough in the Transfigured Toad, but using the more advanced Transfiguration techniques was a lot easier when the target couldn't see what you were doing. And (she realised belatedly) wasn't looking at you in a far too knowing manner.
"Of course not," he said. "Very wise. Very much according to the book. Of course, potion brewing has never been one of my strong points, so I assure you that even if I had wished you harm, most likely you'd be perfectly safe." He sat down in a scuffed but comfortable-looking armchair and gave her an inquiring look. "So, what would the Auror Office like to ask me this time, then?"
Tonks bit back a desire to snap at him; she could recognise the signs of someone trying to prevent her feeling comfortable with the situation. "I want to talk about your relationship with Black, and especially about the night he escaped. You know, Mr Lupin, the night you were running loose and transformed in the school grounds and without Wolfsbane," she added in an effort to disconcert him. She was pleased to see the barb strike home as his mouth tightened for a moment.
"I wasn't entirely out of control," he said after a brief pause. "I had already taken doses of Wolfsbane on the previous evenings. I don't know how well you know the theoretical background, Miss Marshall, but if you look up Damocles Belby's original work you'll see that although the potion is more effective the nearer to the full moon it's taken, every little helps. I can't deny that I wasn't fully in my own mind that night after the moon rose – but after the first shock of the transformation had caused the wolf feelings to flood in, I did manage to fight them off sufficiently well to keep myself away from people." He hesitated. "Please believe me, I would never, ever have been so foolish as to forget the last dose if I hadn't received one of the three biggest shocks of my life that night."
"The three biggest?" Tonks knew this was a side issue, but she couldn't resist asking from sheer curiosity. "What were the other two?"
"Well, one was the time I was bitten, of course," he said quietly, making Tonks feel like kicking herself. "And the other … the last time I had that kind of shock was thirteen years ago tomorrow." He nodded at what she supposed must have been a look of embarrassed recognition on her face. "And then the next day, before I'd had time to adjust to what had happened to James and Lily and Harry, I was told what had happened between Sirius and Peter. Or what I thought had happened until recently, anyway."
"What on earth made you change your mind?" The personal question burst out of Tonks before she could stop it. She quickly put on her most official and impersonal voice and continued, "According to your story, you decided he was innocent almost as soon as you arrived in the Shrieking Shack. Why?"
"Well, I find you can often learn a lot about whether someone is being honest by looking deep into their eyes," he replied with a tentative smile, which Tonks did not reciprocate. He sighed. "And perhaps more to the point, I'd never been able to reconcile what he was supposed to have done with how much he loved James – and the other Potters too, for that matter. It left me frustrated every time I thought about it, because it just didn't fit with what I thought I knew about the man. So I tried not to think about it – but perhaps I was subconsciously prepared for the idea that there was something odd about the accepted story. Do you know what I mean?"
Tonks felt herself flush slightly. She knew exactly what he meant, of course, but her reactions were definitely not what she wanted to discuss. "I understand issues of trust and personal experience, yes," she said crisply, to cover herself. "But surely that can't have been enough against the clear evidence that he murdered twelve Muggles and Peter Pettigrew?" She now knew that that evidence was a lot less clear-cut than it appeared, of course, but Lupin didn't need to be made privy to that information just yet.
"Not at first," he said with a sigh, running a hand through his hair again. "But you forget, I was able to see Peter on the Map I had. I helped write that Map, Miss Marshall. I know how it works. It's more or less a standard security map, slightly modified to show passwords and with a personality impression layer. It's not that easy to hide from one, let alone appear as someone else, and impossible without a wand. If someone shows up, they're there."
Tonks nodded; she couldn't disagree with this assessment after recent events.
"And Peter was there. I saw him clearly, I saw Sirius drag both him and the boy Ron Weasley into the passage leading to the Shack. I still thought Sirius was a mass murderer at the time. It would have taken far too long to explain to someone else how I knew where they were. I had to go myself and rescue them." He looked at her almost pleadingly. "The Map doesn't lie, Miss Marshall. Two geniuses had a hand in creating it. They didn't get things like that wrong."
"I see." Tonks settled into her chair. Outside, she could hear someone's car pulling away from the kerb, and the sounds of children playing in the alleyway at the back of the row of houses. She couldn't help but wonder how they would feel about a werewolf as a neighbour, and almost smiled; the kids, at least, would probably think it was the coolest thing ever. It made her next question easier. "Tell me about those geniuses, Mr Lupin. I would like to understand what they were like when you knew them before the events you mentioned."
"Why?" he asked, tilting his head in inquiry.
"I'm sorry?" That hadn't been the reaction she'd expected.
"Why do you want to know? I've covered the ground fairly thoroughly before, and no doubt you won't want to hear endless reminiscences of my schooldays."
"Actually, I would." Tonks hesitated. "Tell me about Sirius Black when you knew him as a young man. Help me get a picture of what he was like."
Lupin continued to contemplate her with narrowed eyes. His expression was well-controlled, but nonetheless he seemed pensive. "Just as a matter of interest, Miss Marshall, why would knowing what Sirius Black was like as a young man help you find him now? Why would his behaviour in the Seventies matter to the Aurors in 1994?"
Tonks paused to think. Perhaps a touch of frankness would be useful. She summoned all her nerve and faced him with chin up. "Because one or two of us in the Department –" that much was literally true, at any rate "– well, let's say we're willing to examine your hypothesis that he might be innocent, however unlikely that is. Just as insurance, you know."
"I see …" She could see something – possibly hope? – dawning in his eyes.
"You knew him better than anyone else we can talk to. So anything you can tell me about him might help me understand the man he really was. I probably won't believe you when you claim he was innocent," she added quickly, "but … well. Convince me. If you can."
"All right." He settled back in his chair and gave her an appraising look. "I'll do you the courtesy of assuming you've read the case files, and so know the bare facts of the story. What you probably don't understand is what things were like at the time."
"Very well then, tell me." She too sat back, and watched Lupin as he seemed to struggle for words.
"Sirius was … complex, you might say," he said eventually. "He could be the most generous, caring person you ever met, or the most indifferent. If he liked you, he was great fun to be around – he was larger than life, popular right from the start. He always stood out in company, he couldn't help it. James was the same. Sirius, though, if he didn't like you … well, you barely existed for him, except for an occasional cutting remark or hex if you really annoyed him. The only people he was actively offensive to were the ones who reminded him of his family. And I presume that as an Auror, you know all about what they were like."
He paused for a moment; Tonks wanted to wince, but managed to keep her face straight. She nodded.
"If he loved you, he'd do anything for you. He was one of those people who make a wonderful friend and a very bad enemy. But then, almost everyone looked up to him and thought he was the last word in cool. Although some most definitely didn't – Severus Snape being the most obvious example, as I'm sure you'll know. I imagine he would have discussed Sirius' shortcomings at great length when you interviewed him."
He did, true, but that's not the issue here. Maybe I should go and talk to old Snape? … oh no. hang on, I don't have any leverage with him, and if I turned up there in disguise he'd probably see through me straight away. Bugger. "Never mind that," she said sharply. "Tell me more about what he was like to these people he fell out with."
Lupin snorted. "Well, that would assume he ever fell in with them, Miss Marshall. Severus Snape is a long way from an unbiased witness. His own hands weren't exactly clean back then. Yes, he changed his mind subsequently – and please understand, I do give Severus a very great deal of credit for that – but in those days he was part of a group that were practically trainee Death Eaters. Most of them loathed Sirius because of his views and the company he kept, and he was more than happy to return the favour. It didn't help that all his relatives were part of the group – well, almost all. One cousin stayed out, I remember. Sensible girl."
"Andromeda Black?" asked Tonks, as neutrally as she could. Lupin nodded.
"Oh yes, that was her name. Sirius used to visit her every now and then." He grinned mischievously, and Tonks suddenly found it easier to imagine just how this man might have got along well with the Uncle Sirius she remembered. "Now that I think about it, I believe she actually married a Muggle-born and really put the cat among the pixies. Sirius thought it was a tremendous joke. He truly, genuinely hated what the House of Black had come to stand for, Miss Marshall."
"Perhaps he just liked the idea that someone else in the family was an outcast as well?" asked Tonks tentatively.
Lupin looked uncertain. "Possibly. But this was long before he left home."
"Why did he leave?" The question burst out before she could stop it. "Why then, at – what, about sixteen? Not even of age yet? What changed his mind?"
She could see Lupin hesitate as he gauged what he was going to say. "There came a point where it finally got too much for him," he said eventually. "I never got the full story – it happened during the school holidays and I was away from home. The first I knew about it was a brief owl from James Potter to say that Sirius would be living at his place from now on. and that he wanted a bit of time to himself. He was never keen to discuss it once we got back to school, and we respected that. I think what happened had something to do with his cousin."
Tonks gaped. "Do you mean Andr …"
"Oh no, not – erm, Andrea, was it? No, I mean the older cousin, the notorious one, Bellatrix. I take it the Auror Office knows all about her?"
Tonks suppressed a shudder, then realised that she didn't need to, and allowed herself to adopt the ugly look that came naturally whenever she thought of her aunt's behaviour. "Yes, we do. We don't forget things like that done to our people. What did she do that made him leave?" This was something she hadn't known.
"I don't think she did anything directly," he explained, to Tonks' slight disappointment. "But she certainly spent lots of time trying to convince people that Voldemort –" Tonks jumped at his casual use of the name, and stared in astonishment "– had the right ideas about blood purity, and that the Dark Arts themselves should be accepted and taught, as a key part of our wizarding heritage." He snorted again. "She really did get away with a lot as a Black, you know. And of course, it didn't hurt that she was … well, very striking in appearance, shall we say?"
"I know."
He glanced at her. "Yes, I suppose so. Anyway, as far as we could gather – and Sirius didn't talk about it in detail to any of us, not even James – it appeared that his mother made one comparison too many between him and his cousin and his brother. You know, the straw that made the broomstick snap? All he would say was 'words were exchanged,' which I suspect was a rather mild way of putting it. Personally, I think whatever those 'words' were cut him to the quick. But he stormed out, and that was that. He'd had enough of living in a house full of pure-blood fanatics."
Tonks contemplated Lupin for a moment as she processed this information. None of it had been in the reports Kingsley had supplied, although perhaps that wasn't surprising; inquiring into the motivations for Uncle Sirius' actions had been a very low priority for the Auror Office in the chaos of the day after the fall of You-Know-Who. And it wasn't quite what she'd expected to hear …
"Are you sure?" she asked. "He wouldn't have been the first pure-blood who argued with his family, but deep down really wanted their acceptance. And he wouldn't have been the first to turn on those he was close to, just to make up for what he saw as his shame." She could see Lupin hesitate, and added, "There was one notorious case of a pure-blood called Jugson, who became a Death Eater despite having been very outspoken against their views previously. He brutally murdered his Muggle-born wife and disappeared." She suppressed a twinge of pain at the way she'd heard of the case. She wasn't at all sure she wanted to hear the answer to the next question, but knew she had to ask. "Can you be sure that Sirius Black wasn't like that?"
Lupin seemed distressed, and ran his fingers through his hair once again. "Actually, for twelve years I thought perhaps he was," he confessed. "I … well, I considered everything at one time or another. Maybe he'd regretted leaving home after his brother was killed, once he was the last Black left to carry on the line. Maybe his family's taunts about hanging around with riff-raff and losers had finally got to him, and he wanted to prove himself as capable as any of them. Maybe he'd been in love with Lily, and wanted some sort of twisted revenge on her for choosing James. Or for all I knew, maybe he'd been in love with James and wanted revenge on him for choosing Lily. Frankly, I didn't know what to think. Nothing I came up with made any sense. That's why it was so frustrating, why I just tried not to think about what happened if I could help it. Get on with life, pick up the pieces, try to start again from scratch. That's all I could do."
"Did you consider the Imperius Curse?" asked Tonks. To her surprise, Lupin shook his head.
"No. Remember, at the time I thought he'd been the Secret-Keeper for James and Lily. And it's not possible to get around the Fidelius Charm with Imperius, or a Truth Potion, or even Legilimency –the secret is so deeply concealed that the Keeper has to tell it, you see, not have it forced out of them by magical means." Tonks smiled to herself at the way Lupin seemed to drop back into 'teaching mode' every now and again, without even realising that he was doing so. "And anyway, he could resist the Imperius Curse pretty well. We found that out in N.E.W.T. Defence lessons." His face lit up with affectionate recollection. "He was jubilant – he always loved thwarting the Dark Arts, not to mention the people who used them."
"Are you sure?" Tonks asked again, pressing. She wanted to believe him, but still … "Because … that's the sort of behaviour we were talking about, isn't it? A fascination with Dark Magic, for or against, could turn round on itself. I mean, when he found out you were –" she gave him an apologetic look "– well, a werewolf, he wasn't … I don't know, excited by that?"
"No, no!" Lupin looked horrified at the very idea. "He was shocked at first, of course, they all were, although they hid it well. But when he heard the full story he was … angry. Not at me, but at … the man … the werewolf who bit me." He swallowed compulsively. "I was in the circle of those he was close to, you see. He was friendly enough to most people, but there were only a few he actually cared about. I was one. Peter –" a closed expression appeared on his face for a moment "– was another. That cousin, an uncle, occasionally some girl for a week or two until he got bored with her. But mostly, of course –" she could hear the ache in his voice as he said the names "– James, and Lily when they got together, and Harry when he came along."
"You said he might have turned on them because of that, though," she said, biting her lip.
"I said I speculated it might be something to do with that," he said sharply. "Before I found out the true facts. It never made sense, Miss Marshall, that's the point I want to get across to you. We thought of ourselves as brothers – well, it seems Peter didn't –" his mouth twisted "– but even within that, Sirius and James were like twins. I can see now what none of us could have said then without sounding foolish, that he loved James more than anything else in the world. And Lily too, once he got over his first jealousy and realised she made James happy, and wasn't going to ruin their friendship. The Potters represented everything Sirius had always wanted from a family, I think. Supportive, affable, decent, old pure-bloods but without making a big fuss over it."
Tonks looked away swiftly at that, to make sure her face couldn't show Lupin anything he wasn't supposed to see. She couldn't help feeling sympathy for the werew … no, the person she was talking to. She was a little ashamed at slipping into habits of thought picked up from training. I should know better. In fact I do know better. Lupin was evidently doing his best to sound dispassionate, but she wasn't fooled; it was clear that he'd cared about them all nearly as much as her cousin had.
Even Peter Pettigrew, the man he was now naming as the traitor. The nervous little man on the broom …
"All right," she heard herself saying. "Let's suppose for the sake of argument that Sirius Black did feel all that, and stayed feeling like that. Your theory –" and Albus Dumbledore's too, but I don't know if you know that and now isn't the time to tell you if you don't "– is that Pettigrew betrayed them instead and faked his own death. What evidence do you have for that?"
"I saw him," he said simply. "I saw him as a rat, I saw him as a human. And I know my word isn't going to be accepted, but even so, that's what happened. My students saw him too, and no, they weren't Confunded; but you have no reason to accept my word on that either, I suppose."
Tonks paused. She rather appreciated his lack of bluster, even if it didn't get her any further. "Let's suppose then that you're telling the truth," she told him. "Why would Pettigrew want to betray his friends any more than Black would? Or are you claiming he was in love with one of the Potters?"
Lupin laughed. It was a most curious laugh, starting off as pleasant recollection and then quickly curdling into bitterness. "Well, I don't know, but I wouldn't be surprised. He always hero-worshipped James. And probably half of us in the year were a little bit in love with Lily. It wasn't just that she was pretty," he added hastily, "although she was, but she was a really nice girl as well. Sassy, not someone you wanted to cross, but decent and compassionate with it. Just the sort of girlfriend a Potter needed, really." He smiled, but again it faded swiftly. "But from what he told us in the Shack, he did it simply because he was scared. I don't think that's all there was to it, but then you never know. He was obviously better at hiding things from us than we realised."
"He didn't hide the fact he was an Animagus. Well, according to your story, which isn't especially convincing," pointed out Tonks. "I checked his academic record at Hogwarts. It was all right, but nothing special. Not the sort of record you'd expect for someone who would be the youngest Animagus for about three centuries."
"Noooo …" Lupin looked deeply uncomfortable for a moment. Another closed look settled across his features, and she could practically hear the cogs whirring as he decided what to say next. "I think you have to take two things into consideration," he said eventually. "Firstly, he had a lot of help with the theory from James and Sirius, who really were something special academically – and thought the idea was very cool, even if they themselves weren't the type to put in the amount of sheer hard slog needed without an overwhelming reason. And yes, before you ask we all knew it was legally dubious, we just didn't care. Although I don't suppose that matters, since the Ministry doesn't officially believe the story anyway. Secondly, Peter did, I think, have a reason to put in the work. He was always the one who was never anything special. James and Sirius were the princes of Hogwarts to most people. I had my … furry little problem that made me 'interesting', at least within our little group in the know. Peter … well, when I look back now, I can see much more clearly just what an enormous source of pride becoming an Animagus was to him."
"So if they helped him like that, why would he betray them then? Just the threats?"
"I don't think they ever really took him that seriously," he said after a moment. "To James and Sirius, Peter was the designated kid brother, if you like. Someone they could rely on to tag along and offer them hero-worship. Oh, they were very quick to hex anyone who tried to have a go at him, but I imagine even that must have made him feel inadequate … I tried to egg him on to do things sometimes, but it never seemed to make much difference."
He looked away from her out of the window, and his voice became raw. "When I finally confessed everything to Albus Dumbledore, the morning after Peter got away, he just smiled sadly and replied, 'Yes, I have often said that neglect and indifference can be more damaging than actual dislike. I regret that I too have sometimes failed to remember this.' He asked for Peter's help during the war, you know. Albus said he hoped that both Peter himself, and the rest of us, would come to recognise his talents for ourselves. We never did …" His gaze returned from the street outside. "Until now. It seems he had more talent than we realised. Just less … decency."
Tonks shuddered. "You mean when he joined You-Know-Who." She didn't notice for a moment or two that she'd spoken as if she actually believed the claim was true.
"Yes. I'm sure Voldemort found many uses for his talents. Especially those for concealment and disguise."
"That's not bad in itself," said Tonks, stung.
"Of course not. It just depends what you use them for."
"You're really convinced of this, aren't you?" she said quietly.
"It just fits," he admitted. "It makes sense of everything that happened, in a way that nothing I came up with before ever did – because I lacked two crucial pieces of information. One, Peter was alive. Two, he'd been the Secret-Keeper."
"I see." Tonks paused and studied the man opposite for a moment, trying to decide if he was telling the truth; but whatever secrets he was hiding (and she felt sure there were some things he hadn't told the Auror Office), they weren't showing on his face.
He'd once been Uncle Sirius' friend. He claimed he was again now. He seemed to be a surprisingly intelligent and decent man who would probably have been a good teacher last year. She wanted to trust him, but maybe that was just because she really wanted to believe what he was saying …
She took a deep breath, and decided to back her judgement, at least insofar that she could trust him not to poison her. She smiled.
"You know, Mr Lupin, I think I will have that cup of tea, if the offer's still open?"
His look of surprise quickly gave way to a warm smile in response that suggested he'd accepted the request as an olive branch, the way it was intended. "Of course, Miss Marshall." He jumped up and went into the kitchen, from where he called out, "I've only got teabags, I'm afraid. Is that all right?"
"Fine by me." She followed him in; his kitchen was actually far cleaner and tidier than her own, apart from a tray on top of the stove containing some rather depressing-looking blackened lasagne. He followed her eyes and smiled again.
"Well, I did tell you I wasn't much good at Potions. I'm afraid the lack of skill extends to my cooking. But at least with teabags, it's hard to go wrong."
Tonks' grin was genuine. "Join the club."
He dropped a couple of them into the teapot. jabbed his wand in the general direction of the kettle, which immediately started whistling, then opened a cupboard above the stove and took out a couple of faded mugs marked 'Celestina Warbeck World Tour 1965'. "Bought by my parents," he said hastily, noticing her raised eyebrows. "They were big fans. Though they did take me along to a concert when I was young, as a rare treat away from the house."
"I suppose she's not too bad," conceded Tonks. "Couldn't write a decent lyric to save her life, though!" As he swirled the hot water in the teapot, she asked tentatively, "You say you definitely saw Pettigrew as a man in the Shrieking Shack? I mean, you recognised him?"
"I couldn't forget Peter that easily," he told her with a grim expression as he poured out the tea. "I recognised his rat form too, even after thirteen years. And besides, I put the Homorphus Charm on him myself to make him turn back. I saw him change, as did the children, as did Sirius, of course. Milk and sugar?"
"What? Oh, a bit of milk, two sugars please. Homorphus Charm? I thought that was a sort of anti-Transfiguration spell?"
He extracted a bowl of sugar from where it had been pushed behind the toaster and added a little to his mug and two spoonfuls to hers. "A bit more general than that," he said, his voice muffled as he ducked down to extract a carton of milk from the fridge. He looked up and caught her eyes. "It turns a person in beast form back into a human, whether changed or Transfigured. We used to practice it on each … well, once we learnt how to do human Transfiguration anyway. It's rather advanced, but we thought we should make sure we were all good at it in case Peter ever got stuck."
He stood up again and added a little milk to her mug as requested. "Actually, Miss Marshall, that was a very good description. It is more like a reverse Transfiguration than a charm, really. It's one of those borderline spells with a specific incantation you don't need if you're skilled at Transfiguration, like Avis and similar Conjuring spells of that type ..."
"Ten points to Hufflepuff," murmured Tonks. At this look of surprise, she added, "Thank you Mr Teacher."
"Ah." Lupin looked embarrassed. "Sorry. Yes. I do slip into that occasionally, don't I?"
"Once or twice." She hesitated. "Do you miss Hogwarts? You sound like you would have been good at teaching."
He sighed. "I like to think so. I enjoyed it a great deal, yes, but to be honest I never expected to hold the job longer than a year. Quite apart from the likelihood that someone would look at the times I was ill and put two and two together, Albus Dumbledore warned me that the legendary jinx on the position was probably quite real."
"What?" asked Tonks, startled.
"He seemed to think it had been cursed by Lord Voldemort." Ignoring Tonks' wince, he continued, "But I was willing to take it on anyway, as a favour to him from an old colleague."
"Really?" asked Tonks pointedly as she sipped her tea.
"Well, all right, no, not entirely," he admitted. "It was something I'd always wanted to do, so I was prepared to take my chances with the curse. I've really been very lucky. Compared to my two immediate predecessors, I got off lightly."
"I suppose." Tonks cast her mind back; she had a vague recollection of a short piece in the Prophet saying that renowned author Gilderoy Lockhart had been taken to St Mungo's as a result of suffering spell damage in the course of his job as a professor. And hadn't Rhiannon said something about her cousin reporting rumours that the teacher killed the year before had been possessed by You-Know-Who? She shuddered. "Yes, I suppose you did. Everyone knows what you are now, though. That must be bad for you."
He didn't answer for a moment as he made a small show of putting the milk away. "Yes, it's bad," he said quietly, "but it could have been a great deal worse. I lost track of time that night and let moonrise catch me unawares. Even under partial Wolfsbane, I could have bitten someone, something I swore to myself I would never risk again. Severus, Sirius, one of the children. Even Peter wouldn't have deserved that." He turned to look at her. "I hadn't realised the true danger of Wolfsbane to a werewolf – it gets you into the habit of thinking you're completely safe, when, if you miss a dose, you're not. This incident emphasised just how dangerous I am, something I should have learnt when I was young. I daren't take the risk again."
"Don't be too hard on yourself," said Tonks, feeling oddly sorry for him. "Anyone can make a mistake that puts someone in danger. I have before now." She dropped her eyes to her mug, trying to conceal her discomfort at the memory. "It happens sometimes even with the best of intentions. And as you say, you'd just had a huge shock after seeing Pettigrew on the map, and I don't suppose anything like that would happen too often."
"It's not good enough, though," he said, shaking his head. "And forgive me, but I don't think many people from the Ministry would take that attitude. I hear Madam Umbridge is using this incident to force through her new werewolf legislation, and even though she's a complete bi … that is –" he coughed and looked embarrassed "– an unpleasant and prejudiced woman, a lot of people will agree with her. And she does have a point. I try to have as normal a life as possible, but I must face it, I'm not normal. I shouldn't be around normal people close to a full moon."
"Well at least you try to behave normally when you're not a wolf!" said Tonks uncomfortably. "Most of the werewolves I've seen just seem to let themselves go …"
Lupin interrupted her, looking angry. "Do you really believe that, Miss Marshall? Is that what they teach you in the Auror Office? Most werewolves don't get the chance to behave normally, even when they're human. Hardly anyone would give a werewolf a job regardless of whatever new laws Umbridge passes. Many people are scared even to talk to us, just in case breathing the same air could cause them to catch lycanthropy."
"But you …"
"… have been very lucky in what I have compared to most werewolves!" He paused, and the anger slowly faded from his face. "Very lucky. I was given the chance of an education. My parents did everything they could for me, and left me a little money, and I've managed to save a bit from my year at Hogwarts. It's not enough for me to live in luxury, but it lets me own a house and cover expenses. This little place may not look like much, and the location isn't ideal for various reasons, but at least it's cheap and it has a very strong cellar that I was able to soundproof and reinforce to transform in. But even that little means I'm much better off than most." He sighed. "Regular paid employment would be wonderful but it's a luxury. I really must count my blessings."
"Don't give up, Lupin," said Tonks, feeling oddly annoyed with him. "You've remained a man rather than a beast, haven't you? That has to count for something. Just because you made a blunder once doesn't mean you're going to do it again. You were trying to save those kids when you saw Pettigrew, after all, it was simply bad luck that things went wrong. Just take it like a man and move on! Sorry," she added after a brief pause. "I shouldn't have said that. That was a low blow."
"It was, but thank you," he said gently. "Better than taking it like a beast, certainly. And thank you too for accepting my account of that evening's activities. It's good to know that at least one member of the Auror Office takes me seriously."
"Oh!" Tonks mentally kicked herself; she hadn't realised that her last few comments had more or less assumed that he was telling the truth. Which was still a dangerous assumption, however honest Lupin seemed to be. "All right. I'm sure there's more to know about those activities –" she stared at him closely to see how he took this, but his expression remained studiedly neutral "– but I'm beginning to think you could be right. You're not quite what I expected from the publicity."
"Few of us are. Especially not Sirius Black, if you'll forgive me for saying so."
"For now. But honestly – you act like you're on our side."
He flushed. "If by that you mean I don't have old recruiting posters for the Death Eaters decorating my walls, then yes, you're right. I may not be entirely on the Ministry's side because the Ministry is most definitely not on my side, but that doesn't mean I think that the way to protest is to dive into the Dark Arts. Lycanthropy doesn't destroy moral judgement in and of itself, Miss Marshall!"
Tonks was taken aback. "No, all right. I suppose I deserved that." At his vigorous nod she added, starting to feel embarrassed, "But I was trying to be complimentary, honest! You're … civilised. You must have taught well. Like you explained that Homorphus Charm thing so clearly. Just as a matter of interest, why don't you get someone to use it on you when you transform? Doesn't it work on werewolves?"
Lupin smiled grimly. "Oh, it can work, all right. The problem is, the magic underlying the werewolf transformation is very powerful Dark Magic. It takes an exceedingly strong Homorphus Charm to reverse it, and very few wizards have ever had the power needed. Gilderoy Lockhart was not one of them, by the way, despite anything it says in Wafflings About Werewolves or whatever it was called. And even when successful, the stress from the incompatible magic involved invariably kills the werewolf. On the whole, I prefer Wolfsbane."
"You seem to know a lot about this sort of thing …"
He shrugged. "I'm a Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher, of a sort, with special knowledge of fantastic beasts. For some reason I feel an affinity for them …"
He trailed off as they heard a curious thumping sound at the back door of the kitchen, and his face became oddly blank.
"What's that noise?" whispered Tonks as the sounds continued. "Is it one of your Muggle neighbours?"
He hesitated. "I don't think so … There's a big stray dog about in the area. Sometimes I let him in, although not usually when I have visitors." His voice, by contrast, had risen quite loudly. "We canines must stick together and all that …"
"Oh, I don't mind dogs!" said Tonks brightly. She walked to the kitchen door and pulled it open, then took a step back in surprise; big was something of an understatement. The black dog waiting there was huge, not to mention growling in a most distrustful way.
"Easy boy, easy," said Lupin hastily. He slipped past Tonks and patted the dog's head affectionately. "This is Miss Marshall from the Auror Office. You don't want to alarm her now, do you?"
The dog looked up at Lupin and walked past them into the kitchen, where he continued to gaze at Tonks with deep suspicion.
"What's his name?" she asked. Lupin glanced at the dog for a moment, then grinned.
"You're called Snuffles, aren't you boy?" he said. The dog looked at him, and (although she was sure it was only her imagination) seemed almost to be glaring. "Come along now, don't be horrible to the nice Miss Marshall. She was just leaving."
"Ah. Right," said Tonks, edging past. She tentatively extended a hand for the dog to examine. With great reluctance, it put its nose close to sniff her palm and then (to her complete astonishment) suddenly dropped back on its haunches and gave a happy-sounding bark. Its tail thumped on the floor at high speed. "Well now. I think he likes me after all!"
"So he does …" Lupin sounded as surprised as Tonks felt. He stared into the dog's eyes for a moment, and then his own eyes widened. "Well, Miss … Marshall … perhaps you had better go while the going's good, eh? Please, do drop by again if you need further convincing?"
"Yes. Yes, I will. Er, I'll go out the back way, it's all right." As she opened the door, she couldn't resist a final friendly gesture in case she ever did meet Lupin again. She turned and asked, "Oh, about what we were saying earlier – did you hear the one about the troll, the hag, and the leprechaun who all go into a bar …?"
Lupin grinned, a completely unforced grin this time. Even the dog seemed appreciative. "Yes, actually. And I think it was far too kind."
Tonks chuckled and closed the door behind her, then hastily ducked to avoid the football being kicked in her general direction by one of the boys playing in the little back alley it led onto. She walked away slowly, not really paying attention to their game or their curious looks, or even to the peculiar cloud formation high overhead that looked for all the world like a giant flying carriage. The interview had certainly given her a lot to think about.
-----
Saturday 31st October 1994
Tonks couldn't resist dropping into the office the following morning to check if Ellie Finchley had had any success tracking down Horrigan, the thief of old piano-thingies (or whatever they were called). The place was even emptier than usual at a weekend. She rather suspected that half the people who would usually be present were checking security for the Halloween Ball that evening. The other half were probably trying to organise last-minute dress robes.
As luck would have it, Kingsley Shacklebolt was one of the few Aurors present. He glanced up from his cubicle desk as she walked in and Tonks nodded to him coldly. He showed signs of wanting to talk, but she really wasn't in the mood.
She flopped down in the seat by her cubicle and checked through the in-tray, discarding the usual pile of daily reports and plaintive requests that staff not flood the Ministry with memos, as the swarms of paper aeroplanes were knocking people's hats off in the lifts. However, Cassius had thoughtfully left her a note on top of the tray:
Dear Tonks,
I'm sure you will want to know what happened while you were off-duty, so here is a summary.
First things first – the initial round of interviews with Jacqueline Carrack and Mickey Ashford have been completed, and we have more than enough evidence to convict them even if they refuse to say another word. They are on their way to Azkaban as I write this.
Eleanor informs me that she has not yet found her man Horrigan, but she has brought in a couple of his friends for questioning, and expects to track him down before too long given their assistance with her enquiries.
Donnacha has talked to Mackenzie Ashford and made some effort to cheer him up, but (I suspect) without great effect.
Given your recent health scare, I do hope you are reading this no earlier than Saturday morning, because I told you that Friday was your day off, young lady, and I expect you to follow orders! You shouldn't have been doing any investigative work.
Best wishes, anyway, and you will doubtless see me – and Angelica – at the Hallowe'en Ball. Before you ask, no, I haven't told her yet, and no, I'm not at all sure taking her is a good idea now. But this is an interview I'd rather face later than sooner, so I'll try to work the conversation round to the subject, and pretend I've only just realised. (Which I have, in effect.)
On a lighter note, if you have a space on your card at the Ball, I might even risk life and limb for it!
Yours truly,
Cassius
Tonks grinned. No investigative work yesterday? Oops. Bit late to tell me that now, mate. She folded up the note and tucked it into her pocket, then started as a shadow fell across the desk. She looked up to see Shacklebolt standing there.
"Hello, Kingsley," she said coolly. "Come to check I'm not nicking memo pads or something?"
He gave her a wry smile. "No. I'm sure half the Department would be in trouble if we started worrying about things like that." He hesitated, and spoke his next few words even more slowly and carefully than usual. "Tonks, can we let bygones be bygones? Perhaps you could let me buy you a drink to bury the hatchet?" He winked at her in a significant sort of way.
"What – oh!" She bit back her first annoyed retort as it dawned on her that he was mirroring the turns of phrase she'd once used on him when discretion was necessary. "Yes, all right then. Er – Leaky Cauldron in fifteen minutes?"
"Excellent. I'll meet you outside in the Alley." He smiled once and walked out without a backward glance, leaving her to wonder what he had in mind.
-----
He was waiting by the wall leading to the pub when she arrived, with a rather grim expression on his face. He grabbed her arm to head her off before she could tap on the wall with her wand.
"You know, I think the atmosphere in there is a little stuffy?" he said with a smile that was bright and quite blatantly insincere. "Shall we talk in the same place we talked last time? I didn't like to mention it back in the Ministry."
She stared at him, but let the questions she wanted to ask die before they reached her lips. "Er – all right. See you there."
She quickly Apparated to her flat; and sure enough, a minute later Kingsley was knocking on her door. "What's this about, Shacklebolt?" she asked, escorting him into the lounge.
He dropped into a chair, leant back and looked at her thoughtfully. "Did you know that the archivists in the Hall of Records occasionally tip us off if they happen to notice suspicious people checking up on something?"
Tonks blinked. "No. But it sounds useful."
"Oh it is. Apparently, yesterday afternoon they had an inquiry from one Remus John Lupin as to whether anyone called 'Julia Marshall' was employed by the Ministry. They knew his name, of course, it's been in the Prophet recently, so they knew who he was and what he was. When pressed, he was unable or unwilling to specify what department this Marshall might work for. When no-one of that name showed up on the Ministry records, he thanked the archivist and went to check through the Hogwarts enrolment records for a period between twenty and forty years ago. I'm told that, judging from the look on his face when he left, he hadn't found anything and wasn't too surprised about that."
"I see. Interesting."
"Yes, isn't it? Do you know what I think?"
"What's that?"
He glared at her. "I think someone was doing a little private investigating. And not being especially subtle about it. Someone who was off work yesterday, perhaps. Who do you think that might have been, Tonks?"
"I don't … hmm." Tonks bit her lip and tried to meet his eye. "What would your reaction be if you found out who it was?"
"I'd tell them to be a bit more bloody careful," he snapped. "Tonks, if you were up in Leeds asking questions yesterday and gave a false name, that was stupid. Really, really stupid. At least you have some sort of right to be asking in your own name by virtue of your job, but a fake identity just draws attention to yourself." He looked at her in exasperation. "I've done you the courtesy of bringing you here to ask rather than shouting it out in the middle of the Department. Now tell me, and tell me straight – was that you?"
She hesitated, then nodded. He rolled his eyes.
"I thought so. You've been exceptionally lucky, do you know that? He hasn't asked any direct questions about who was talking to him, or let it slip to anyone else on my team, but you really stuck your head in the path of a curse there. However, as it happens I can cover for you and make sure no-one else goes to interview him without my say-so. Call it my apology for doubting you a couple of days ago back in the foyer."
"Fair point. Sorry," said Tonks, abashed.
He shook his head. "'Sorry' might not be enough next time," he said. "Don't get me wrong, Tonks, you've done well at this job – for a new recruit. That's why I overreacted the other day when I thought you'd sold us out – which I'm sure is a feeling you know well." He smiled briefly as she flushed. "Yes, I know. Perhaps you won't leap to judge me too harshly for a mistake next time either. But the point is, Tonks, you're still wet behind the ears in a lot of ways."
"I tried to have a fallback position," she said quietly. "Give him the impression that I was some sort of reporter nosing round, pretending to be an Auror. I made sure to imply things and not actually tell him anything that I could only have found out from the case files."
"Well, that's something, anyway," he said. "I'd be quite happy to hint that it was Rita Skeeter nosing around … wait a minute. Did you say pretending to be an Auror?"
"Yes …"
He closed his eyes and groaned. "That was the stupidest possible thing you could have done. People pretending to be Aurors are asking for trouble, even if – or especially if – they're only pretending to be people pretending to be Aurors. Normally, we'd have to investigate who they were. Even reporters usually know that much."
"Sorry!" she said again, shamefaced and beginning to panic. "Kingsley, I … oh bugger it. I wasn't thinking straight yesterday. Sorry! Is this … I didn't mess things up for you completely, did I?"
He contemplated her for so long she began to squirm. "Very well, Tonks," he said softly after a while. "As it happens, this is something we can finesse quite easily. It seems you didn't leave anything positively incriminating behind, so even if the worst comes to the worst and Scrimgeour suspects what actually happened, you should be able to brazen it out. The Department don't like Aurors who seem to be doing their own private investigations, though. Funny questions are asked. You might want to remember that for future reference."
"I will," said Tonks. She breathed a sigh of relief. "Kingsley? Thanks, mate. Sorry I snapped at you before. But – what did you expect me to do when you told me all that stuff?"
"I expected you to do your own private investigations, of course. But carefully." He sighed. "Learn from this, Tonks. Learn quickly, please. It's the sort of situation in which one mistake you get caught in could set your career back ten years. But, well –" he shrugged "– as it happens, you seem to be fine and Lupin isn't causing trouble. So the only remaining important question is – did you find out anything useful?"
"I'm not sure," she said honestly. "He told me a lot of stuff about my cousin and Pettigrew when they were young that I didn't know from the reports. I'll write it down for you. But mostly … I just wanted to see if he sounded convincing. Whether I felt he was just spinning a yarn, or whether he actually believed what he was saying."
"Fair enough. And your conclusion was …"
Tonks swallowed. She didn't really want to say it out loud, but … "I think he was telling the truth," she said in a very small voice, and was amazed how relieved she felt at finally putting the thought into words. She suspected that she'd felt that way for some time without acknowledging it to herself. "Lupin seemed … convinced. I'd bet my Gringotts account that he believes it happened, and if he is Confunded, he's not showing any secondary symptoms and it's the best bloody charmwork I've ever seen. And Dumbledore believes it too … I'm not sure how, but sod it, Kingsley, I'm beginning to believe it, crazy or not."
His lips quirked. "I'm glad to hear you say that. I've believed it for some time now. New circumstantial evidence does that to you. It's just been rather hard to persuade Scrimgeour or my team to take it seriously. And it's very useful to have your impressions of Lupin, because I haven't had the chance to see him personally."
"What new circumstantial evidence?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Ah, that." He shrugged. "Did you know I wrote back to Dumbledore, inviting him to pass on any suspicions he might have? No, of course you didn't. Anyway, he wrote again, directing my attention to that missing Ministry witch who vanished in what is supposed to be the last known location of You-Know-Who, and to some Muggle gardener who had disappeared in the village where You-Know-Who's parents lived, of all things. Nothing conclusive, but certainly suggestive of something going on."
Tonks nodded with a sudden surge of interest. That was definitely new.
"Which leaves me with a nice little quandary; I have to investigate the crimes of a man I actually suspect may be innocent, and ignore even the possible existence of another man I think may be out there committing more crimes. At least, I do if I want to keep my job. Interesting dilemma for a senior Auror, isn't it?"
Tonks swore fluently. "What are you going to do, then?"
"Try to nudge the team into investigating Pettigrew, if only to 'disprove Black's story'. Work on Scrimgeour. See Lupin for myself. Consult with Dumbledore and see if he can't bring a little influence to bear on Fudge with the evidence he has. Wish fervently that old Mad-Eye were still available to be persuaded into trying a private investigation instead of – I imagine – scaring the life out of the kids at Hogwarts. And quietly set you a few tasks from time to time when you're not tied up with your own cases, if you're willing to take instructions instead of flying solo. Are you?"
She looked at him for a few moments, knowing that what she was being asked to make was a serious commitment. "Yes," she said eventually. "Yes, I will. Whenever I can."
He grinned. "Good. Damn, I'm glad to hear you say that too."
"Is there anything specific you want me to do?"
"Not yet. Use your family connections to dig into Black's background a bit more if you get the chance. Keep an eye out for developments. But most of all, keep it quiet and be ready to help out when I ask."
"That's not doing muc … oh, okay. Don't do anything stupid, right?"
"Right." He got up and breathed an enormous sigh of relief. "That's a load off my mind, Tonks. Good luck for tonight."
"Tonight … aagh!" For a moment, the Ball had completely slipped her mind. She checked her watch. "Bugger it Kingsley, you'd better not want anything doing today! I've got to be ready for seven and it's already quarter past one!"