Predictably, the Ministry was getting nervous.
iWho wouldn't be? They're going to mob./i
Unrest was rising at an alarming rate. People wrote so many editorials to the Daily Prophet that they couldn't print them all. People filed complaints at the Ministry, gossiped about the case, and most noticeably of all (to Remus, at least), bad-talked them when they thought no one was in hearing distance.
But of course Remus was within hearing. He had learned that no one tended to expect the innocent looking barkeeper to overhear anything. They probably though him much older than he was, and therefore quite senile.
iWhat stereotypes people think of these days,/i he mused.
As he served up a gillywater to a few old friends, he listened intently without looking it in the slightest.
"Hear that protest is tomorrow morning," wheezed the old geezer.
"Are you going?" asked a friend.
"Am I going? iAm I going?/i of course I'm going. No respectable citizen is going to miss it."
iI am,/i thought Remus to himself, but somehow he doubted that a werewolf would be counted as a respectable citizen.
He continued to wipe down the counter innocently.
"I've read in the Prophet how that Fudge man is trying to cover up. He insists that everything is fine. But those poor people…" a hush fell over the table.
Feeling sick, Remus turned his attention to organizing a stack of menus. Those poor people indeed.
Lately he had heard so many rumors and so much gossip he didn't even need to glance at the blasted Prophet anymore. It was confirmed – the Longbottoms' condition was permanent, the Longbottom boy was in his grandmother's custody, and the criminals were to be tried tomorrow. Remus couldn't help but wonder- are they really guilty?
He knew the Lestranges were – he had known them at school. They had never missed an opportunity to torment some unfortunate person.
But the boy – who knew?
Remus woke up with a feeling of foreboding, not quite sure what he was afraid of but thinking he should know. Oh – the trial. Yes, that was it, that little nagging feeling in the back of his brain.
He wondered why he was worrying – what had it to do with him? He wasn't going. He figured that the Ministry would only see this as another reason to suspect him, as a werewolf. Remus hated thinking it, but he was being honest. Brutally honest. You know, chop-off-the-head-brutal honest.
Remus got up and quietly fixed himself some cocoa. He sipped it thoughtfully, staring into the steamy cup.
When he downed the last swig, he placed the mug carefully in the sink and Apparated to the bar, much earlier than usual.
Tom was not surprised to see him this early.
"Why 'ello there, Remus! Thought I might be seeing you a little early today."
Remus felt slightly foolish, having been predicted so easily.
"Anywho, I suspect business will be quite slow this morning, with all of our customers gloriously protesting our cruel mistreatment." Tom's eyes twinkled humorously.
Remus smiled slightly. "Anything you need done?"
Tom thought for a moment. "Nah, not really. Want a cocoa?"
"No, thank y… Oh heck, yes please."
Tom grinned toothlessly and poured Remus a cup of steaming cocoa. They sat in silence, each wrapped up in their own thoughts, watching the rain run down the grimy window.
In what seemed like a very short amount of time, Remus heard a stream of loud babble floating down the street. He slid off of the stool and started to put on some coffee.
Sure enough, a large crowd of people shortly entered the bar, ordered drinks, and sat down to loudly complain about the Ministry's reaction.
"Arrests!" one wizard bellowed. "Arrests! Who do they think they are, anyway?"
A loud and raucous round of shouting followed this comment, including many jeers and taunts directed towards the Ministry.
Remus grew uneasy. The arguing was getting increasingly violent, with anger on both sides. Ministry officials who were there hurled insults at the protesters. The retaliation was awful.
Finally someone snapped. A large man wearing a dark brown overcoat punched a Ministry official in the face. The volume of shouting increased as a vicious fistfight ensued. Remus began to tentatively step out from behind the counter to put a stop to this.
"Quiet."
Tom stood at the top of the stairs, glaring calmly down at the brawl.
Everyone froze.
"I will not stand for this sort of behavior in my bar." Tom's voice was deadly quiet, but the entire bar could hear him.
Tom pointed to the brawlers. "Out."
He pointed at the door.
Silently and sullenly, the two men walked out the door.
"The rest of you. I will not tolerate any more fighting. Talk about something else or leave."
Tom turned on his heel and walked back towards the suites, not looking back once.
Remus returned to his stool to monitor the counter and the situation. He felt strangely deflated, almost exhausted.
Today would be a long day.