A/N: First off, I wanna thank Zarathustra fer her betain' work. She's a good 'un! Thanks to Sortin'Hat47, who's a damn fine frien' an' all...
Nex', you gotta know there's a lotta Hagrid-speak in this chappie, an' I know I didn' do it all perfect-like. All those dropped letters an' all 'bout drove me mad.
(And then there's bloody centaurs in this chapter--Good golly! Hagrid's accent and centaur-speak all in one chapter. My head should have exploded!)
Disclaimer: I want them. I use them. But they aren't mine, and I don't get a cent from them. I can only do this through JKR's forgiving and charitable nature. (Even if she wasn't all that forgiving in DH...)
Chapter 25: Mysteries
Monday, 20 January—6:02 p.m.
Remus looked at the two boys that stood slightly behind Jonathan.
"You want me to do what?"
"Could you explain the Codex of Naustina to all three of us?" Jonathan repeated. "It's really rather complicated, and I told Rob and Leander that you'd be able to explain it better than the professor did."
Remus sighed. "I suppose if I'm going to have to explain it to one, I might as well explain it to three. Have a seat."
Thursday, 23 January—5:45 p.m.
"Mr Lupin, I hope you don't mind, but Yvonne was having some trouble in Charms today, and I told her you might be able to help her out."
Remus tilted his head slightly to the side and gave Jonathan a quizzical look. There was something going on here, he just couldn't put his finger on it. Yet. "The Ravenclaws are having some trouble this week?" he intentionally phrased it as a question.
Jonathan shrugged. "Well, you know how it is. Everyone has something they have to work on."
Behind him, Yvonne chewed at a fingernail nervously.
"Fine," Remus said with a suppressed sigh. "Here, Yvonne, have a seat here, and tell me what the problem is."
Friday, 24 January—1:15 p.m.
Professor Kettleburn stopped next to Remus and dropped a hand heavily on the younger man's shoulder. "Hey, laddie, I was wondering if I could make use of you this evening."
Remus smiled. "Of course. What do you need done?"
"About ten years ago, some people from Hogsmeade said there was a large, black dog hanging around the crossroads right out of town. They thought it was either a grim or a barghest."
Remus felt an icy finger of fear trace his spine and freeze the smile on his face. The last time he'd heard this rumour, he'd been part of establishing it.
"I went looking for it, and never did find it," the professor of Magical Creatures continued.
Yes, you did. You found the 'grim' and gave him detention for being off the school grounds. You didn't catch the stag, though…
"Someone down at Rosmerta's said they saw it again the other night. I'd have said it was too many butterbeers, but the man doesn't drink anything stronger than pumpkin juice." Kettleburn chuckled. "So, I told him we'd go looking for it. Thought it'd be a bit of a change for you."
"It will be interesting," Remus agreed.
"Good lad. Meet me down at Hagrid's cabin around seven, then, all right?"
7:56 p.m.
Remus held the lantern out in front of him, and grabbed the top of his coat to hold it closed against the brisk winter breeze. The top button had been lost ages ago, and now Remus was silently sending himself to several different levels of hell because he had never replaced it.
It was too damned cold to be out here chasing phantoms.
"Reckon we'll find anythin'?" Hagrid asked.
The werewolf shrugged. "It seems unlikely to me, but Professor Kettleburn seems to think it worth looking into."
"Be a treat ter actually see the barghest. I seen it years ago and then it just up an' disappeared."
"Oh, really?" As many times as Padfoot ran past your hut, I'm not surprised you saw it.
"Thought maybe I were drinkin' a bit more'n I shoulda bin, if yeh know what I mean."
"Have you ever seen nogtails around here?" Remus asked, hoping to distract the half-giant from his interest in big, black, semi-mythical dogs.
"Ach, not too many. They like the farmland too much ter come 'round here. There was a troll, though —"
The story of the troll and how Kettleburn and Hagrid had lured it away from the school finished just as Remus and Hagrid reached the crossroads where the demonic black dog had supposedly been seen. Remus dowsed the light, and they stood uncertainly for a moment, letting their eyes adjust to the dark. They had expected to find Kettleburn there, waiting for them. He had left before Remus had arrived at Hagrid's hut, intending on talking to the man who had seen the black dog in order to get a better idea of what they were looking for — and where to find it.
"Are we gonna jus' wait here fer it — or the Perfesser?"
"Don't know what else to do," Remus said with a shrug. He glanced around and made for the stone wall that lined the road. He placed the lantern on the top of it, and then hoisted himself up to sit next to it. "Come on, Hagrid. Have a sit-down."
Hagrid eyed the wall with something like suspicion. "Don' know if tha' wall's strong enough fer the likes o' me."
Suddenly, a howl shattered the air. Something primal within Remus stirred and his fingers clutched uselessly at the stone.
"Came from over there," Hagrid said, pointing.
"I know," the werewolf said tersely. He grabbed the darkened lantern and started off at a trot in the direction of the noise. "Come on."
The nearly full moon was peering between clouds promising even more snow than the dusting that was already on the ground, but still offered enough light for the half-giant and the werewolf to see where they were going.
"Perfesser Kettleburn's gonna have a bloomin' fit tha' we're chasin' this thing without 'im," Hagrid muttered.
"He won't mind as long as we get some answers," Remus replied.
A low howl came from the woods right in front of them.
Both Hagrid and Remus automatically started in that direction without speaking, but when they reached the tree line, Hagrid halted and glanced behind him. "Think we oughta send up a signal or somethin' ter let him know where we are?"
It wasn't a bad idea, Remus thought. Kettleburn would need to know where they had entered the forest. "Flagrate," he murmured. He sketched an arrow on a tree trunk with the tip of his wand, and it glowed red in the darkness, pointing to the path they were going to take.
Hagrid nodded with approval, and they stepped into the shadows of the leafless trees.
"There i'n't a trail," Hagrid whispered loudly. "No pawprints or nothin'."
Remus had already noticed that, and was significantly bothered by it. Everything left some kind of trace. Everything except ghosts, that is. So what in the world were they chasing? He stopped and closed his eyes, concentrating on the noises around them, trying to decide where they should go now. Only two nights away from the full moon, his hearing was as sharp as it ever got as a human. Almost instantly he heard a rustling off to his right.
"This way," he said curtly, turning toward the noise and moving without waiting to see if Hagrid was behind him.
He would have liked to have used the lantern to light the way: it would have made it so much easier to see the briars that pulled at his coat, or the sticks that tugged at his feet, making him stumble. The moon was only so much help between the gleaming birches and the sprawling oaks. But any light, even a Lumos would prevent his eyes from being acclimated to the dark and seeing whatever animal was in the woods with them — and what it intended for them.
"Yeh migh' think abou' doin' one of them arrows," Hagrid suggested suddenly.
Remus cast the spell as he continued walking. Now that they had ventured closer to a cluster of junipers, he could smell something unexpected… Something — familiar.
"Watch yerself," Hagrid suddenly muttered, reaching out and grabbing Remus by the shoulder to stop him, realising what was there at nearly the same moment as the younger man.
A female centaur stepped out from behind the cluster of bushes. She stared at them disdainfully and then stated in a low, quiet voice, "You should not be here."
"Beggin' yer pardon, Laureola, but we're lookin' fer somethin' else tha' shouldn' be here."
She snorted and stomped a front hoof impatiently. "Who are you, Rubeus Hagrid, to say what manner of creatures belong in the forest and which do not?" Her eyes drifted scathingly over Remus, from head to toe. "You would allow one dog into the forest but not another?"
Remus' lips twitched, and then he let the smile emerge. "I'm not a dog. I'm a wolf."
Her tail lashed her side, and she stared at him. He wasn't certain, but it seemed like she was staring at him quizzically. "Your vision is surprisingly clear."
"I heard it enough a few months ago to believe it," he replied. "Especially since one of your own also referred to me as such."
She took a step closer to him. "What was the name of him who revealed to you your true nature?"
"Libertas."
The clouds had parted, and somehow enough moonlight peeked through the bare branches to illuminate her disappointed expression.
"That was not the name you wanted to hear?" Remus asked quietly.
"What does it matter to you, wolf?" she demanded, taking another step toward him. She was frowning angrily now, however.
"Remus!" Hagrid hissed in warning.
The younger man ignored him. "I did not intend to hurt you by reminding you of someone lost to you," he said to the centaur.
"Humans—or wolves—do not concern themselves with our ways," Laureola scoffed. "And they care even less for what we think or feel. Again I ask why it matters to you?"
"It matters because of Libertas," Remus whispered, not sure if he was feeling bewilderment or a moment of true clarity.
"Why would this Libertas concern himself with one such as yourself?" she demanded suddenly.
"We were both trapped in a situation not of our own making," Remus replied. "He would no doubt say we were merely existing together. We became —" he fumbled for the right word, an acceptable word, "— acquaintances."
"And yet you are here now and he is not," the centaur pointed out. "You abandoned him."
Remus took a deep breath. "No. I did not," he said firmly.
The centaur looked up at the sky, scanning it slowly from east to west. "His star has fallen, then?"
"Yes."
She looked at him sharply. "Wolves cannot feel regret."
Remus was stung by her words and the fact that he had obviously infused his simple answer with such feeling. "Horses should not be so judgmental," he snapped.
He heard Hagrid groan.
Laureola pranced sideways, and then advanced toward him. He held his ground, however.
"You would dare call me a horse?" she asked threateningly.
"You continue to insult me by referring to me as a wolf. I am more than that."
She continued glaring at him, and he knew she hadn't yet made up her mind what she was going to do to him or with him.
"The moon is more than a big, glowing ball of rock," Remus said steadily. "And the stars are more than little twinkling lights in the night sky. If those things can be more, why can't one such as myself be more than a wolf?"
Her eyes widened slightly, and she struck the earth with a forefoot. "Who are you?"
"Does it matter?" he asked, turning her earlier question back on her.
"I would know who this — acquaintance of Libertas is."
Remus smiled lopsidedly. "My name is Remus Lupin."
"Lupin?" she repeated. "You are named truly."
"I was named ironically," he muttered.
Was that a smile that flitted across her lips? Surely not.
There was a thundering behind them, and he and Hagrid spun around to see a male centaur bearing down on them, spear in hand.
Remus didn't move. He was frozen in place, the thought occurring to him that he had made it out of hell alive, only to be spitted by a centaur's spear. An altogether fitting end, he supposed.
"Stop, Dar!" Laureola yelled, throwing a hand up in a warning gesture.
The other centaur kept coming. But at the last second, he pulled his spear up and brought himself to an abrupt, brutal halt, sending pieces of the forest floor flying at Hagrid and Remus.
"You are not to be here," the male centaur said to them harshly. Without waiting for an answer, he looked over at Laureola. "And you are not to be here, either."
"But, Dar —"
"I am not Dar," the centaur said in an exasperated tone that implied they'd had this conversation before. "I am Tiber."
Remus looked back at the female, who looked confused.
"Where's Dar?" Hagrid asked suddenly.
Tiber froze. "It is no concern of –"
"Dar is gone," Laureola interrupted. "I am looking for him."
"You will not find him here," Tiber said, ignoring Hagrid and Remus.
It was if a veil of grief spread itself over Laureola, for suddenly her features slackened, her shoulders slumped, and her tail drooped.
"You must go back now, Laureola," Tiber told her gently.
She started to turn away from them, but then stopped and looked at Remus. "Libertas—does his dam know his star has fallen?"
Remus felt like the wind had just been kicked out of his chest. "I don't know," he whispered.
"If you honour his memory, you should tell her," Laureola said. "She may still be looking for him as I look for my Dar."
They watched her slip through the trees until the sounds of her passing disappeared.
10:05 p.m.
Just as Remus and Hagrid were emerging from the forest, Fergus Kettleburn was preparing to enter at the place where Remus had left the arrow. Since the wind's frosty teeth had sharpened, the professor suggested they go to the Three Broomsticks for a drink to warm themselves up before heading back to the castle. It would be the perfect place to discuss what had happened—why Remus and Hagrid hadn't been there at the crossroads as he had expected.
Remus told an abbreviated story. He didn't think it was necessary for Kettleburn to know exactly what Laureola had said to him, or vice versa. So, he simply told the story that he and Hagrid had met two centaurs in the woods, and talked to them. If Hagrid was surprised at the Remus' decision to omit the barbs and comments traded by werewolf and centaur, he didn't show it. Remus did tell Kettleburn everything that they had learned from Tiber after Laureola had left them.
"So, it was a barghest, then?" Kettleburn repeated, somewhat eagerly.
"Tiber said it was," Hagrid said. He paused to pick up the large pewter tankard to take a drink, and then added, "Got summat outta sorts when I asked 'im if he were sure."
Remus smiled into his warmed butterbeer, thinking about the centaur's indignation that the half-giant had dared question him.
"Did they destroy it?" Kettleburn asked.
"He said they 'took care of it,'" Remus replied. He tilted his head slightly to the side, "Of course, that could mean almost anything in centaur-speak."
The Magical Creatures professor nodded slightly. "I don't think they'd be wanting a demon-dog hanging around the forest anymore than we do, so I'll assume they destroyed it. I might try to find one of the friendlier centaurs and ask him what was done, just to be sure."
Someone from across the room hailed Kettleburn and he excused himself to go talk to the man, leaving Hagrid and Remus alone.
The gamekeeper cleared his throat loudly, then looking around to make sure no one could hear him, said, "I hope yeh don' mind tha' I let you tell it. I figured there're some things yeh'd rather keep ter yerself."
Remus tapped his mug against Hagrid's. "You're a good man, Hagrid."
They drank, but as Remus lowered his mug, he gazed thoughtfully into the depths of the golden liquid. "Hagrid, do you know Dar?"
The older man sighed loudly. "I do. Hot-headed chap. Wasn' happy here. Said more'n once tha' he was goin' ter leave."
"Do you think that's what happened to him, then? That he just left?"
"It could be, I guess," Hagrid said. "I'd've said he'd've told Laureola he was leavin' though. Centaurs are a clannish bunch, an' he an' his dam were close."
"So —" Remus hesitated. "Could he be dead?"
"I dunno." The gamekeeper rubbed the beads of condensation on the sides of the tankard with his thumb.
"He could be, I guess."
Remus rested his chin in the palm of his hand. "Do you know of a herd of centaurs in the Mersey Forest?"
"I don' think there're many of 'em left," Hagrid said after a moment's thought. "Weren' tha' many of 'em ter begin with." He hesitated, then asked, "Is tha' where yer Libertas was from?"
"My Libertas?" Remus lowered his hand and shook his head. "He was not mine. He was his own. Or," he again stared into the depths of his butterbeer, "he should have been."
"Yeh knew 'im at the carnival, then?" The half-giant's question was surprisingly gentle, as if he wasn't sure he should ask it in the first place.
Remus nodded. "He was trapped there, just as I was." He raised his eyes to meet Hagrid's. "They probably have no idea where he's been for the past five years."
He took a deep breath. "They wouldn't know he's d—" He shuddered rather than say that final word.
Hagrid's eyes were full of sympathy, but he wisely said nothing.
"Laureola —" And again, Remus fell silent.
How could he tell Hagrid about the heaviness in his heart? Laureola had lost a son, and somewhere in the Mersey Forest, there was, presumably, another centaur mare who was suffering just as badly for the want of news of her missing son.
Was Libertas' mother roaming the snow-dusted forest trails, looking for humans or others who might be able to tell her where her son had gone? Did she scan the heavens every night, looking for a sign, a star, a vision that might give her peace?
Remus sucked down the last of his butterbeer. "I'm going back to the castle," he announced to Hagrid. He grabbed his coat and headed for the door, not even pausing to button it before going out the door and into the bitterness of the winter night.
Saturday, 25 January, 1986—2:02 a.m.
"Wolf."
His reply was automatic. "Horse."
"You are doing well."
He could see the centaur's form beside him, though Libertas was little more than a darker shadow in the surrounding darkness. "Yes, I am."
"You sound surprised."
Remus smiled, feeling the left side of his lips rise slightly higher than the right. "That's because I am."
The centaur cocked his head in Remus' direction and flicked his tail along his hindquarters. "You are safe now."
The werewolf nodded. "Yes."
But before he could add any more, Libertas said, "There is no peace in safety."
Remus blinked. "What? What is that supposed to mean?"
The centaur sounded like he was smiling when he replied, "You will know what it means when you are ready to know what it means."
Monday, 3 February—4:15 p.m.
"Remus!"
The werewolf spun neatly on his right foot to face Professor Flitwick.
"Fergus can't make it tonight for a chess match we had planned. Would you care to join me?"
Remus smiled. "I'd love to. What time?"
"You finish tutoring Jonathan at, what? Eight?" At the younger man's nod, Flitwick went on, "I'll expect you directly after that, then."
Remus agreed and started to turn away from the smaller wizard, intending on continuing on his way when Flitwick's voice stopped him. "Incidentally, Remus, I don't think you need to give him any more help with Charms. I think he can manage on his own now."
Remus blinked. "Oh. Well. Yes. I suppose he can."
"You've done a remarkable job with him." The older wizard patted him on the arm. "Thank you for agreeing to tutor him."
"It's been my pleasure," Remus said, wondering at the sudden constricting sensation in his chest.
6:30 p.m.
"You can do your Charms assignment later," Remus told the boy.
Jonathan gave him a confused look. "Why? Why can't I do it now?"
"Professor Flitwick thinks you're fine on your own now. At least with Charms," Remus clarified, seeing Jonathan's quick, panicked glance at his Runes book. "We can concentrate on the other things: the things you really need help with."
It wasn't until later, as he watched Jonathan finish a Potions essay that he realised why Flitwick's words had affected him so. The boy didn't need help with Charms — or Potions. Not really.
How much longer did Remus have until Jonathan didn't need him at all?
Saturday, 8 February—3:10 a.m.
"Wolf."
"Horse."
Tonight they were at the edge of a forest—one very much like where Remus had met Laureola.
"You are angry."
"No, I'm not angry," Remus contradicted. "I'm — Hell, I don't know what I am."
"Distressed," Libertas said.
"I'm not —" But Remus halted and considered the centaur's word. "Yes, I suppose I am." He turned to face the centaur. "Did your dam and your sire know where you were? While you were at the carnival?"
The centaur grunted. "Comets streak across the sky, unable to be guided or tethered, and not even the gods can catch them or their tails. Unfortunately, when the comet finally comes to earth, there are few who can tell where it landed."
Remus took a moment to work out the centaur's meaning. "You ran away?"
"I told them I was leaving."
"But not where you were going."
"I had no particular destination in mind. I thought merely wanting to be away would be enough. I was a headstrong foal and not wise enough to listen to their counsel."
Before Remus could ask the question that was on the tip of his tongue, Libertas backed away and gestured to the forest. "It is peaceful, is it not?"
The werewolf looked at the tall trees garlanded with snow, noticing how the bare branches stood out, black against the velvety midnight blue sky. "It is," he agreed.
A wolf howled somewhere in the distance, and Remus fought down the urge to howl along with it.
"It is not safe here," Libertas said.
"No," Remus agreed.
"There is no peace in safety," the centaur said.
"You said that before," Remus pointed out. "What does that mean?"
"You are not ready to know," Libertas said, turning and disappearing into a clump of juniper bushes.
Tuesday, 11 February—5:43 p.m.
Jonathan looked up from his Runes translations to look toward the door for what Remus was sure to be the fiftieth time in the past half hour.
"Jonathan, what in the world are you looking for?"
The boy gave him a shame-faced grin. "I was looking for a friend of mine. She said she might come by."
"This is not a time for socializing —"
"Oh, I know," the Ravenclaw rushed to reassure him. "She was having some trouble with Potions, though, and I told her —"
"Does Professor Flitwick know that I have apparently become the official tutor for Ravenclaw?" Remus asked, with mock dismay.
"Actually, Sarah's from Slytherin."
Remus' eyebrows rose. "Does her Head of House know about this?"
Jonathan grinned. "Are you mad?" A motion out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and again he looked at the door.
"Fifty-one," Remus muttered.
"What?" Jonathan asked.
"Nothing."
"Sarah's here. Will you help her with her Potions homework, then?"
Remus sighed and then looked up at the ceiling. "I've never been one to abandon a damsel in distress."
Jonathan's grin was wide and full of devilry. But so was Remus'.
Wednesday, 12 February—8:33 p.m.
Severus Snape walked into the Staff Room and stopped at the sight of the meddling werewolf in a chair near the fireplace. He was telling a story to Fergus Kettleburn, who was seated at the table, but turned so he could see Lupin as they talked.
The Potions master thought about turning around and going back to his rooms, but resentment bubbled up within him and he stopped himself. He had more right to be in this room than that — Lupin.
The seven professors — and the one werewolf — in the room looked up from their work and their conversations to greet Severus.
Seeing the scrolls that the younger man had in his hand, Filius Flitwick, who was sitting at the table next to Kettleburn, gestured to the empty spot on his right. "Have a seat, Severus!" he said with a broad smile. A stack of essays on the table next to his left hand was threatening to topple over.
Severus took the offered chair and carefully placed the scrolls in the order that he wanted to review them. He'd start with the ones that he knew would be horrible and proceed through the ones that would be just barely readable, and then finish with the ones that offered some kind of hope that the little cretins were retaining some of what he was trying to stuff inside their heads.
He opened the bottle of ink and carefully sharpened his quill with a spell. As he did, he could hear Lupin nattering on, but ignored him.
The first essay was every bit as awful as he suspected it would be, and as he started on the mindless drivel produced in the second essay, his mind — and his ears — began to wander.
"… And then a couple nights later, he brought Yvonne Barstow to me," Lupin was saying. "And the next day, he told me that another friend of his needed help with Runes. But that was the night we were going to look for the barghest, so I didn't meet him for tutoring…"
Severus wished that Lupin would just get to the point already. He concentrated on the essay in front of him, viciously scratching out words and correcting mistakes until the parchment was bleeding black ink.
The thought occurred to him that, if he was so irritated by Lupin's presence, he should go back to his office. But instantly another voice told him that if he left now, in some way, Lupin was going to win. What and how Lupin was going to win, he didn't know.
"…And now he's bringing students from the other Houses to me!" Remus laughed. "I think he's convinced if he keeps me busy, the Headmaster will somehow let me stay longer."
"Clever boy!" Kettleburn mused, with a chuckle of his own.
Severus couldn't help snorting his disdain.
He saw the quick look that both men gave him, but continued with his marking. Five completely ineptly written essays later, something caught his attention.
"… will you be here?" Kettleburn was asking.
The werewolf shrugged. "Not much longer, I think. I'm waiting to hear from a man who is writing a book about magical creatures in the Alps. He needs someone to help him with his research — and with the creatures. He said he's going to make a choice next week…"
Severus didn't look up as he intoned, "If you need another recommendation in order to find a position—elsewhere, I would be willing to sacrifice a bit of my time to help you out."
"I'm — grateful for your concern." Lupin said, with a coolness that meant he obviously got the implication of Severus' last word, "but I wouldn't like to trouble you."
"Pity," Severus replied. "It would have gratifying to help you find a position of actual, I mean, of such importance."
This time he glanced up and noticed the werewolf's eyes glittering with anger.
Saturday, 15 February—1:52 p.m.
Remus stood staring at the forest, arms crossed on his chest, and one hand cupping his chin thoughtfully.
He had been dreaming of Libertas and the forest almost every night now for a week. He had thought it was the forest in which he and Hagrid had met Laureola. Now that he was right in front of it, however, he wasn't sure.
In his dreams, there was a large oak off to the left. In reality, it was a clump of myrtle. A large decaying log was to the right of the path that he and Hagrid had taken that night they had chased the barghest. In his dreams, a ghost-like birch had played sentinel to the path, with a smaller evergreen in its shadow.
So this wasn't the forest in his dreams. Question was, what forest was it? And did it matter?
Monday, 17 February—12:02 p.m.
Severus seethed inwardly as he watched the werewolf making his way to what had become his usual seat at the Staff Table. He ground his teeth together as Filius Flitwick turned in his chair as Lupin went past.
"Remus, I have a book I think you'd be interested in, about Dark magic in ancient Babylon. You're welcome to come up to my classroom later and get it."
Remus nodded and smiled. "I'd like that."
"And while you're there," the Charms professor grinned widely, "I might ask for your help in showing the fifth year Gryffindors how charms can be quite useful in duelling."
Remus chuckled and said something in response that made Flitwick laugh.
Severus spent the next few minutes thinking of charms he'd use against Lupin — starting with one to make him disappear…
Tuesday, 18 February—5:59 p.m.
Remus looked up from his book at the sound of someone approaching. No, several someones approaching.
He gave Jonathan a quizzical look as the boy greeted him with a broad smile.
"They," Jonathan waved a hand in the direction of the four boys and two girls who were following him, "were hoping you could teach them that trick you showed me of reading the Norse runes…"
Remus sat back in the chair, tilted his head to the left, and stared silently at Jonathan.
The boy began to fidget under his gaze.
"Jonathan," the werewolf finally said quietly, "you can't keep doing this."
The Ravenclaw bit his lip, taking a quick glance back at his friends. "Doing what?" he asked so that only Remus could hear him.
"I can't stay here forever." His own words shocked him. He had known it, but to hear it spoken by his own lips—it was conceding a truth, acknowledging a reality that suddenly he wasn't sure he was ready for.
"Why not?" Jonathan asked. "It's not just me who needs some help now and again. I thought, maybe, if the Headmaster saw that there were others that needed your help, he might let you stay longer."
He couldn't help but feel flattered. The boy was worried about him and was trying to help him keep his place.
It was more than most adults would do.
"I knew when I came here that it was only a temporary thing," Remus said quietly, as much to himself as to Jonathan.
Jonathan bit his lip and looked down at the floor. "What happens if my marks start to get bad again?"
Remus smiled. "Then I come back long enough to knock some sense into your head, and then I leave again."
"But you won't —?"
"Jonathan, if your work suffers now, then it will make me look like I've done nothing for you," Remus pointed out. "You're going to do fine without me. That's what we've — what I've — been pushing you toward — doing well enough on your own. And, you're almost to that point." He glanced back at the small crowd just beyond earshot. They were getting restless.
"I'll show them the trick with the runes," he decided quickly. "But your two friends in green and silver have to swear to every god they know that they're not going to let Snape hear about this."
Jonathan grinned. "They won't."
"And Jonathan —" Remus paused until the boy's smile faded. "I can't do this any more. I won't tutor anyone else other than you for the rest of the time that I'm here. Not unless the Headmaster orders it. Understood?"
He never appreciated Jonathan more than during those few seconds that went by in which Jonathan struggled against what he believed to be right and agreeing to what Remus was asking. He didn't want to. His reluctance was obvious. But Remus could out-stubborn him if need be, and Jonathan instinctively knew it.
"All right," he agreed finally.
Remus sat back in the chair. "Good." Then he glanced around the table and pointed at the group of students that Jonathan had brought with him. "You lot, find a chair —"
Wednesday, 19 February—1:03 a.m.
Libertas touched the trunk of the old tree and then looked over at Remus.
"You will be leaving soon."
Remus closed his eyes against the pain in his heart that the truth brought to him. "Yes."
"You will be leaving the safety of the castle."
"Yes," Remus agreed again. "You said that I couldn't find peace unless I abandon safety."
"The seed must leave the flower in order to sprout."
"But what kind of peace am I supposed to be looking for? We're not at war any more," Remus insisted. "And I can't bloody well be at peace when I have no home to go to, no job to do..."
"The forest is full of peace," Libertas said calmly.
"Yes, but, gods, Libertas, this forest isn't even a forest I know! Where in the hell are we, anyway?"
"You have been here," the centaur said. "Once. And if you return, you will find peace here. Peace of mind and peace at heart."
"But I have to go walk through all the bloody forests of the United Kingdom until I find this one particular forest," Remus snapped.
Libertas smiled. "You are thinking like a human — impatiently, illogically. Think like a wolf. Think of the pack, of your alpha, and think of the omega. And remember Dar."
"Dar? But I never met him!"
"But you know him."
"What —" It was all Remus could do not to scream with frustration. "Damn it, horse! For once in your life would you give me a straight answer?"
The centaur nodded. "Now you begin to understand."
"Understand? Understand what? I don't — Hey! Where are you going? You can't keep doing this to me!"
But Libertas had left him alone in the forest once again.
Alright, this chapter bloody deserves a review: Hagrid's accent, centaur-speak, Snape snark... I developed multiple personality disorder over this chapter!