Hello All!
This chapter was originally called 'Questions & Answers' but was - potentially - very long, so it has been broken up into at least two chapters, all centred around the holidays.I hope you like it!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or related characters, even though I wish I did (see, I've been eyeing this house...)
Chapter 5: Questions…
The last few weeks in December before Christmas Break went by quickly, as students polished off essays and studied for end of term tests, and the population of the great white castle prepared for the coming festivities.
Before Remus knew it, the day he had been anticipating arrived.
It was withdetermination and resolve that he awoke on Christmas Eve day, ready to face the man he had respected, feared, admired and resented over the years.
He was ready to play the interrogator.
Having been interrogated by the wizard before, as a child, as a teen, and later, as a man, he knew how it felt. Now it would be Dumbledore's turn to 'come clean', as the headmaster had put it to him once before.
The thought of turning the tables on Dumbledore gave Remus a perverse satisfaction, but moments later he felt guilty at taking pleasure in something so petty as revenge; especially towards the man who had given him the opportunity to be more than a frightened little boy with a terrible secret.
Indeed, he had come a very long way from the little boy who met the tall, lanky wizard with the long beard and pointy hat so many years ago, too afraid to leave his mother's side, too scared to make friends for fear of exposure and isolated from people 'for his own good'.
Remus wiled away the hours until dinner by wandering aimlessly in the village of Hogsmeade (where he had spent the last night) and sitting in his room at the Inn abovethe Three Broomsticks, childhood memories flooding his mind. The memories, brought about by the melancholy the season provoked within him, were what he privately referred to as 'Before' and 'After' – before Hogwarts and after.
Remus' parents, though well – intentioned, had been very protective of him as a child. Having been bitten at the age of seven by a werewolf as he played near his home on the outskirts of London, he was subjected to the pain and horror that came with transformation once a month, most of his life. His parents, desperate to save their only child from such an existence, did all they could to relieve his suffering. They spent all the gold they had in search of a cure, even selling their two – story house with double garage. His father, who worked for the Ministry of Magic in the Magical Law Enforcement Department, quit his job and moved his small family to the north, to a tiny cottage surrounded by woods, and took up odd jobs in the sparse community, all in an effort to be closer to his son. Despite this, Remus always felt a distance between him and his father. It was as if his father blamed him for ruining their lives, but felt guilty for thinking it. His mother, however, showered him with attention, doting on his every move, until he felt like he would suffocate. As a child, he didn't understand the stifling nature of his mother. Back then it felt safe. It kept him sane.
It was only when he had finished his first year at Hogwarts, had made friends, had learned many new wonderful and interesting things, did he realize what a saviour that kindly old wizard had been. He had freed him from the prison his parents had, unintentionally, created for him, allowed him to be a child, to be a boy, to feel human for the first time he could remember.
The hour drew near and Remus, both eager and reluctant to see his former headmaster, left the warmth of his room for the cold soggy evening air. He disapparated outside the tavern, apparating at the gates of Hogwarts. He had to endure the bitter chill, which seemed all the harsher since being in the south of France for the past four months, as he walked the grounds to the castle.
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Remus, the subject of his inquiry was, at that very moment, preparing for an interrogation of her own, though she didn't know it. To her, it was another attempt by Celestia to keep friends in high places. This was the only way she could explain being invited to Christmas Eve dinner at Malfoy Manor in London.
It had been quite a surprise when, upon reaching home (though she didn't regard it as such), Celestia had announced they were leaving for London first thing the next morning. Kali had expected to spend the whole of her holidays holed up in Paris with Celestia and her horrid 'friend', Henri de la Falaise. She loathed the man, who was nothing but a glorified pimp with old money and connections, and was secretly relieved they would be going back to England instead. She missed London and had dreamed of going back for many years. It wasn't until they reached their old house, boarded up and dusty, did Celestia reveal their dinner plans. Kali, always highly suspicious of her grandmother (with good reason), prepared for the worst, and was somewhat relieved when a tiny house elf greeted them at the door of the stolid home, and beckoned them inside with a smile.
They were led through a grand hallway to an even grander sitting room, where the man himself – Lucius Malfoy, greeted them. Kali remembered the flaxen – haired man with the haughty demeanor as an occasional visitor to their home during the height of the war. Celestia had accommodated him and his fellow Death Eaters many times, healing wounds and counteracting defensive spells in the room below the stairs. Kali was called upon, occasionally, to fetch potions or assist with dressing wounds, but mostly she watched silently as grown men reverted to sobbing children were patched up and pushed out the door. She learned a lot watching the unlicensed (and illegal) healer and put the knowledge to good use at Beauxbatons, where she would heal students (for a price) when they were too afraid to go to the resident healer, Mademoiselle Colbert for fear of detention, or worse.
The dinner itself was uneventful. After being introduced to Lucius' wife Narcissa (who was equally pale, and if it was possible, even more haughty) and their young son Draco (also pale and rather spoiled), they sat down at the elaborately carved long wooden table in the grand dining hall, which glittered of gold and finery, and tucked in to a feast of the finest French fare. This amused Kali, but she did not show any sign of it, nor spoke a word. She left that to Celestia, who enquired after 'old friends'. Kali barely listened, instead watching the young boy, about nine years old, pick at his food and pull faces. She could feel the pale woman's eyes turn towards her occasionally, though she gave no hint of notice. Instead, she continued to 'eat', vanishing the food away as she placed the fork in her mouth. Even though they were guests, she knew enough to never trust a Death Eater, and to never eat what they served you.
After dinner, they were invited back to the sitting room, where more inane conversation (which was of no interest to Kali) continued, until Lucius suggested his wife give Celestia a tour of the mansion. She obliged a little reluctantly, leaving Kali alone with the elder Malfoy and his son. A moment later, the house elf entered and the little boy was bustled out of the room to bed. He went quietly but pouted the whole way out, the double doors closing firmly behind him.
Kali sat opposite the pallid, slender man. She saw the cold look in his eyes turn to curiosity.
"How are you enjoying Beauxbatons?" he asked, pronouncing the school's name with a perfect French accent.
"It's alright," she answered tersely, suddenly aware that this private meeting had been orchestrated.
"Just 'alright'?" he asked, smirking.
She considered him for a moment, taking in his formal disposition.
"Alright...it sucks," she answered, curious to see his reaction to her supposed candor.
He chuckled, though Kali could tell it was false.
"Perhaps you would have preferred Hogwarts?"
"Not really," she replied, tilting her head slightly.
"Why's that?"
"There's only so much you can learn at school." She only half – believed this statement.
His thin lips curled into a smile at her words.
"And you've learned so much from your grandmother," he stated.
"Oh yes," she responded, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.
It was not lost on him and his smile disappeared.
They sat in awkward silence, eyeing each other openly, until Mr. Malfoy spoke once more.
"Do you not remember me?" he asked suddenly.
"I do."
"And the others?" She suspected where this line of questioning was headed.
"Yes," she answered simply. She was not going to make this easy for him.
"Many loyal to the cause are gone now," he said a little wistfully, "but still, those of us left still remain loyal."
"Like you?" she asked, looking him directly in the eyes.
"And your grandmother," he added.
"You think Celestia shares your views?" she asked mockingly.
"You doubt it?" he demanded, leaning in towards her.
"I question it," she stated firmly, determined not to show any emotion.
His eyes narrowed as he considered her.
"She had quite a special relationship with the Dark Lord," he stated silkily.
Kali knew he was fishing, and wondered what Celestia thought they were talking about. It certainly wasn't this. When she didn't answer he continued, seeming to take her silence as a sign of doubt towards him as well.
"Though our leader is gone, he is not forgotten," he stated with vehemence.
"Funny," she said echoing his silky tone, "I thought it was the other way round."
"Excuse me?" he asked, losing his composure for a moment.
"May I be frank with you, sir?" she asked, leaning in towards him now as well.
"Of course," he answered silkily, regaining his composure and sitting upright once more. He looked at her greedily.
"Don't let Celestia play you for a fool," she stated harshly. "She is very good at manipulating men and I've seen enough to know that any man – any man – is vulnerable."
She had planted the seed and watched him struggle to wrap his one – track mind around her bold statement. She resisted the urge to break into a grin as he tried, in vain, to break into her mind with occlemency, more curious than ever to know what she knew about the Dark Lord. Instead, she continued to keep eye contact, her face as unreadable as her mind. He seemed on the verge of speaking when the doors burst open and his wife walked in hastily, followed by Celestia. Kali was secretly relieved and jumped up suddenly.
"Thank you for your hospitality," she said, walking towards the pallid, snobby woman. She stretched out her hand; Mrs. Malfoy extended hers, and they shook briefly. There was a look of utter surprise on her face at Kali's sudden change of demeanor.
"Dinner was magnifique," she went on, smiling, "and your home is so lovely, I'm sure grandmamma enjoyed seeing it," she simpered.
She turned towards Celestia, still smiling. The older woman seemed to regard her with confusion and curiosity. When no one spoke, she continued.
"It was so lovely to meet you," she said in a voice unlike her own, "and I do hope we meet again." She then turned towards the tall, sallow man, who was standing, a look of incredulity on his face.
"Mr. Malfoy, lovely to see you again. Thank you for your hospitality." She then turned towards the others, bade her hosts a 'Happy Christmas' and walked straight out of the room, continued down the hall and out the front door, disapparating on the doorstep with a smile of satisfaction on her face.
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Dinner with Albus Dumbledore had not been what Remus had expected. He imagined they would dine in the Great Hall, joined by the school's odd assortment of staff members and acquaintances. Instead he was led to the headmaster's private quarters by a tiny house elf. The spiral stairs, which led to the headmaster's office and moved of their own accord, had reversed, sending him deep beneath the familiar room. Remus, only one of a handful of people to know almost every inch of the castle, was amazed to find he was standing in a room he never knew existed.
The room itself was a comfortable size, and decorated in a rich shade of purple. There were plush, velvet sofas and two armchairs by the hearth of a stately fireplace of deepest mahogany, its mantle lined with photographs of smiling, waving people Remus guessed were his family. The walls were lined with mahogany bookcases, every shelf occupied with old books and various magical instruments, some of which he recognized from his days as a student. Even though they were in the lower part of the castle, the fire cast a warm glow over the whole room.
Remus, looking around curiously, was startled by the sudden presence of the man himself – Albus Dumbledore. He greeted his old student warmly and offered him a glass of brandy to 'fight the chill'. Remus took it gladly, hoping it would calm his nerves. The two men sat on the sofas opposite each other, and engaged in small talk for several minutes, Remus pushing back the bitterness he felt in Dumbledore's presence, until a house elf interrupted, announcing dinner was served.
They were led to an adjoining room, where they sat down at a small, cozy table and feasted on the usual Hogwarts holiday fare. Remus immersed himself in the hearty meal, forgetting his resentment temporarily as he enjoyed every bite.
Afterwards, they retired back to the sitting room, where the older wizard invited him to sit by the fire and placed a glass of the finest muggle cognac in his hands.
"How are you finding life in France?" Dumbledore asked after a momentary silence.
"Beauxbatons is fine," he answered, sensing the headmaster's real question, "but it is no Hogwarts."
Dumbledore smiled genially.
"And life as a teacher?" he asked.
"Fine," Remus answered curtly.
"And your students?" he asked casually.
Remus tensed a little at this question, wondering if the all – knowing Dumbledore had guessed his intentions.
"They are bright, for the most part, though a little lacking in, uh, moral fortitude," he answered honestly.
Dumbledore continued to smile, as if waiting for more. When Remus didn't speak, he continued.
"'Education has for its object the formation of character',"(1) he quoted. "Wouldn't you agree?"
Remus pondered the words for a moment. "Yes, I suppose," he said finally.
"Of course, those willing to learn are more open to ideas of ethics and morals."
"Do you think I can change the way my students think?" he asked, not sure what the old man was trying to say.
"I believe as educators, we have the power to nudge them in the right direction," he answered, eyes sparkling.
They sat in awkward silence, sipping the aged cognac and staring into the fire.
"It doesn't always work, though," Remus stated bitterly after a moment.
"I sensed something was bothering you," he stated with a sigh. "Perhaps you'd like to talk about it?"
"Not with you," he blurted out before he knew what he was saying.
Dumbledore looked startled, but quickly masked it with a benevolent smile.
Remus couldn't hide it any longer. He felt like he was about to explode, his mind full of questions and accusations. Before he knew what he was doing, the words came out.
"Why did you send me to Beauxbatons?" There was an accusatory tone to his voice, though he hadn't intended it.
Dumbledore seemed to consider him for a moment.
"You needed a job and they needed a qualified teacher," he stated simply.
Remus felt the old frustration at Dumbledore's calm demeanor rush back.
"There was no other reason?" he demanded.
Dumbledore studied him silently.
"Tell me the truth," he demanded, disregarding the voice in the back of his mind that begged him to stop. He was losing patience and desperate for answers.
Dumbledore sighed, lowering his glass to the table at his side.
"You needed a job, they needed a teacher," he reiterated, "and I thought those needs far outweighed the implications of your finding out the truth."
"But I was wrong," he added sadly.
"So I'm right," he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper.
Dumbledore nodded, looking resigned.
"Say it."
"Your student," he began, "Kali del Fuego, is Sirius Black's daughter."
The confrontation between Lupin and Dumbledore was very hard to write. I still thinks the dialogue's awkward...
(1) The quote is by Herbert Spencer, a British philosopher from the late 19th century. I found it randomly and thought it fit.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter, with the different POV's and everything.
Please feel free to comment (constructive criticism welcome!)
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Coming (Very) Soon: Chapter 6: ...& Answers