Moony's Musings
Chapter 3
By Trep092
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Get it? Got it? Good!
I'd like to dedicate this Chapter to Johnny Depp's Best Lover. She knows why.
I'd like to thank my Beta Erik's Song for all of her assistance. Without her I'd be sitting in a corner spouting gibberish.
A/N: There are direct quotes from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban chapter five "The Dementor" in this chapter so I shall reiterate one more time, I do not own it, J. K. Rowling does.
*** September 1, 1993 (present) ***
James Potter, whom he knew to be dead, was sitting in the compartment with him.
James! He wanted to shout for joy but his paralyzed mind wouldn't allow him coherent thought, let alone speech.
His best friend was here; returned from the grave. How could it be?
His head bumped the window as the train rattled over a rough patch of track. This jolt shook the last clinging vestiges of memory from his mind.
Of course James wasn't here. The boy sitting in the compartment with him was evidently Harry, James's son.
He didn't know how he could have been so stupid. Of course James was dead, gone from the physical world. Off on another grand adventure leaving him behind.
The ever-present void of sadness inside him gaped wider. It had been his constant companion for twelve very long years. Ever since he heard the news of James's and Lily's deaths and Voldemort's subsequent downfall, it felt as though his heart was an empty pit with no hope of it ever healing.
His life had been full of hardship, but the worst thing that had ever happened to him was certainly the deaths of his best friends. Not even the attack which had transformed his carefree childhood into one of agony and ostracism came close to comparing.
So few people wanted to come near him, let alone befriend him, so he cherished friendship above all things. Even his own life.
That is why he couldn't bare thinking about Sirius. To betray a friend to their death was above all crimes in his book. He didn't want to believe that Sirius of all people had betrayed James, his supposed best friend, but the evidence was pointing overwhelmingly in that direction.
Of course there had been signs. Sirius had become increasingly fearful and paranoid as the time he spent in the Order doing dangerous missions dragged on. When they had suspected that someone within the Order had changed sides and was providing information to Lord Voldemort, he had even gone so far as to name Remus as the traitor and leave him out of the plans to keep the Potters safe.
It was entirely possible that Sirius had switched sides out of fear, but Remus couldn't wholly believe it. Sirius had been a great friend. He was kind to most people, courageous, and most significantly of all, loyal to his friends.
Although, he sadly reflected, Sirius had been responsible for almost revealing him as a werewolf in their sixth year by playing that malicious prank on Snape. He was sometimes reckless and didn't think things all the way through. He only thought about the reward of that particular venture and didn't consider the consequences.
Could that be what happened twelve years ago? Had Sirius been offered the "glory" of Voldemort's service and not considered the idea that he would be responsible for the deaths of Lily, James and Peter his best friends?
No. Sirius had always rebelled against the ideology and actions of Voldemort, his followers and supporters. He had been disowned by his own family for disagreeing with their support of Voldemort's dogma.
For the thousandth time he was thinking in circles. He had tried to figure out Sirius's actions and motivations many times over the last twelve years and hadn't gotten anywhere. He usually just settled on the fact that a trial had weighed the evidence and witness statements and had found him guilty. Therefore he must be guilty. How could a street full of eye witnesses be wrong?
And now his unprecedented escape from Azkaban. Both Muggle and Wizarding worlds were in turmoil over the escape of such a highly dangerous convict.
The widely accepted theory was that he had escaped to finish the job he had started: killing the potters. Then it was rumoured that he would set off to find his master Lord Voldemort. If it was true that Sirius had killed the Potters then it was only logical that this would be his course of action.
But still that wriggling worm of doubt gnawed at his gut. He was about ninety-seven percent positive that Sirius was guilty. The remaining three percent was clinging to the image of Sirius as he had known him; a good man and friend not a murderer.
This mental argument was pointless. He just went round in endless loops never accomplishing anything. He should be paying attention to what was going on aboard the train, for if Dumbledore was right he would need to protect the students from Dementors searching for his old friend.
And yet he couldn't bear talking with Harry. He just looked too much like James, and without his mental barriers in place to block himself off from the near crippling grief he felt when thinking of his deceased best friend, he just couldn't handle it for the moment.
Certainly he knew that Harry would be amongst the students he'd be teaching, but he hadn't planned on having a chat with him before he got settled in his new job.
As if he didn't have enough to think about right now, his fears about teaching came back with a vengeance. He really hoped that he would be a good teacher. He had a mental picture of the ideal teacher that he wished he had had when he was in school and he desired to emulate it. He had had very good professors at Hogwarts, but none of them really made the effort to get to know their students personally. None of them had singled out struggling students and given them a confidence boost. They usually just heaped more homework on them. He didn't want to be like that. He knew what it was like to be marginalized and didn't want that for his students. He wanted them all to be equal in their confidence in their studies despite their differing abilities.
Mentally shaking himself, he pushed all these thoughts aside. He couldn't do anything about Sirius besides read the prophet and help to protect Harry, if he didn't feel comfortable talking to Harry he could just continue pretending to sleep, and as for his teaching ability, he wouldn't find out what kind of teacher he was to be until he was standing in front of his first class.
Those issues temporarily shelved, he turned his attention to the three students who were sharing the compartment with him. They were keenly discussing the village of Hogsmeade.
The girl was saying, "But Hogsmeade's a very interesting place, isn't it? In Sites of Historical Sorcery it says the inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack's supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain."
She evidently read a lot and absorbed facts like a sponge. She reminded him a lot of himself; though he didn't usually enthusiastically gush out his knowledge as she was doing at the present.
One of the boys interrupted with a continual description of the culinary delights of Honeydukes sweet shop. A small grin touched his lips. How he remembered the excitement that particular shop had brought him and his friends the first time they visited. Of course they hadn't known that was where they were headed at the time.
James had discovered a secret tunnel leading god-knows-where in their second year, and one night, the four of them had snuck out under James's invisibility cloak to see where it led.
They had trudged along for what seemed like hours-and the novelty of sneaking around had started wearing off-when they reached a staircase and a trapdoor. When they had emerged into the cellar of a fantastic sweet shop they had been overjoyed. It was a much more exciting adventure than simply heading down to the kitchens for food.
Mindful of the sleeping shop owners, they had snuck around the shop and sampled as many confectionaries as possible (taking one of each and leaving payment in the till at Remus's insistence).
It had been an amazing evening. Of course the next day they had fallen asleep in several lessons and had been given detention for not having their homework completed, but it was worth it.
That had been the grand adventure that had started them on their quest to find all the hidden nooks, crannies, and tunnels in Hogwarts and its grounds.
"Won't it be nice to get out of school for a bit and explore Hogsmeade?" the girl asked, obviously trying to steer the conversation away from sweets.
"'Spect it will," said the other boy heavily. "You'll have to tell me when you've found out."
"What do you mean?"
"I can't go. The Dursleys didn't sign my permission form, and Fudge wouldn't either."
The Dursleys. That name was familiar...
*** November 3, 1981 ***
He sprinted as fast as he could across the grounds of Hogwarts school. His limbs were powered solely by the rage and grief burning in his heart.
How could they be dead?
His friends, the only people who accepted him for who he was were dead. Dead or locked up in Azkaban for life.
He was lost in this new World of hope. With Voldemort vanquished and everyone celebrating, he was more depressed and angry than he'd ever been at the height of the war.
He hadn't heard all of the news until this morning. He had been unreachable on Halloween because of his transformation, and then he'd been laid low with a bout of severe fatigue.
It was only this morning-when he'd been able to stumble from his bed-that he'd found the pile of Daily Prophets announcing the downfall of Lord Voldemort and the deaths of Lily and James Potter. There had also been the news that Sirius Black had killed Peter Pettigrew and twelve Muggles and was now languishing in Azkaban.
How could his World go to Hell so quickly? For the millionth time he cursed his lycanthropy. If he hadn't been trapped in a werewolf form on Halloween he could have done something to save his friends.
Well actually he couldn't. He hadn't even known where the Potters were, having been left out of the secret by a paranoid Sirius.
Damn him! Sirius had been one of his greatest friends, loyal to a fault, and he had turned on him and called him traitor. But now he realized this had been Sirius's plan the whole time. To get everyone out of the way so he could personally deliver Lily, James and their son to Voldemort.
The only time he stopped in his headlong dash was when he reached the front steps of the castle. He flung open the doors and sprinted across the entrance hall and up the marble staircase.
He was here to see Dumbledore. He was the only person who could answer his questions.
As he hurtled down the corridors towards Dumbledore's office he didn't even bother to pay attention to the strange looks he was receiving from students, ghosts and portraits alike.
Skidding to a halt beside the gargoyle statue that guarded Dumbledore's inner sanctum, he rested his hands on his knees and panted for several minutes attempting to catch his breath. Calming his rapid breathing, he straightened up and faced the gargoyle.
He gave the password "chocolate frog." Which he knew from being a member of the order of the Phoenix. The gargoyle sprang aside revealing the circular staircase moving slowly upward.
He dashed through the gap in the wall and-not being patient enough to wait for the staircase to deliver him to his destination—sprinted up the stairs.
Stopping at the door with the griffin knocker, he caught his breath and knocked.
"Enter."
Too anxious to care about propriety, he rushed into the office, and nearly shouted, "Is it true?"
"Yes Remus," Dumbledore sighed, "yes it is true."
"Oh my God!" Remus gasped and collapsed boneless into one of the chairs before Dumbledore's desk. "All of it?"
"Yes."
"And Harry?"
"Safe and sound with his relatives—the Dursleys."
"Muggles?"
"Yes."
"Wouldn't it be better—couldn't I?"
"No Remus—"
"How dare you! You—because—Werewolf?" He was speechless with anger. How could Dumbledore even think he couldn't look after Harry because he was a werewolf!
He jumped to his feet, his pulse was racing and he felt hot blood rushing to his face.
"You misunderstand me!" Dumbledore said in his soft yet powerful voice. "If you would only grant me a minute to articulately convey my thoughts Remus, you will understand."
"Sorry sir." Remus mumbled and resumed his seat.
"I had no choice but to leave Harry with his Aunt and Uncle." Seeing that Remus was going to protest vehemently, he raised his hand for quiet. "When Lily and James died, Lily died protecting her son out of love. This created a magical protection around Harry that will only be activated when he is in the home of one of Lily's relatives. And, as her sister Petunia Dursley is her last remaining relative he is safe there."
"But—"
"I am not making this up because I believe them to be better qualified for the job than you Remus. As you well know I don't judge people for their differences. It is just something that has to be done."
"I'm sorry sir. I just—"
"You blame yourself." It wasn't a question. Dumbledore was demonstrating his uncanny ability to know exactly what a person was thinking.
"Well—"
"Well don't. It was not your fault Remus. I understand that you were kept out of the loop so you didn't know where the Potters were, so even if you weren't transformed at the time, there was nothing you could have done. The only ones who are to blame are Lord Voldemort and the traitor."
"You mean Sirius. I can't believe he would..."
"I am not sure Remus, there is overwhelming evidence that points to his guilt."
"And Voldemort?" Remus added wildly. "Do you really think he is gone? Is that why you are leaving Harry with the Muggles?"
"In a nutshell... no I don't believe he is gone for good. And to answer the second part of your question, that is indeed why I'm leaving Harry where he'll be completely safe and away from the attention of the Wizarding World."
Rising with a sigh, Remus said apologetically, "I'm sorry about my interruption Headmaster."
"Don't apologize Remus," Dumbledore said softly, "There will be much misplaced guilt and blame. In the wake of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. The best thing we can do is weather the storm and draw our own conclusions about what has occurred over time. Your anger at Sirius won't be gone tomorrow, nor will your grief at your friends' passing. Just know that you will come to accept it in time."
"Thank you, Headmaster. Good-bye."
"Good-bye Remus and good luck."
*** September 1, 1993 (present) ***
So the second boy was evidently Harry. No wonder Fudge wouldn't sign his Hogsmeade permission form. With Sirius on the loose supposedly searching for Harry in order to kill him, it was best if the boy remained inside the grounds of Hogwarts where he'd be safe.
Safety was all he had ever wanted for James's son. That is why he hadn't protested more when Dumbledore had explained that he couldn't look after the boy. That, and when he had calmed down he realized that no matter what Dumbledore said about him being a fit parent, he knew that he could never shoulder the responsibility of raising a child. He was too dangerous for a growing boy to be around.
"Ron, Don't!" the girl shouted angrily.
This outburst brought him jolting back from his reminiscences. He had to get a grip on his emotions and memories or he would be completely ineffective at protecting the students if dementors were to show up. He couldn't let the students or Dumbledore down.
Unconsciously, he gave himself a little shake to make sure his mind stayed in the present. He only realized that he had moved when the conversation around him stopped abruptly. Still not eager to converse with James's son, he turned his head to the side, and let his mouth hang slightly open as though just shifting his position in sleep.
With all his mental strength he kept his thoughts in the present. It was harder than he thought it would be. The nostalgia of being back on the Hogwarts Express, and being in the presence of his best friends' son pulled his mind continually towards the past.
So he concentrated on the sounds of the train. On the pounding footsteps of students running up and down the corridor, on the rattling of the wheels on the train tracks, on the air rushing past the window he was using as a pillow, and on the chatter of the three students in the compartment with him.
Through a heated debate over a cat and a rat, he learned that the other boy's name was Ron, and the girl's name was Hermione. Harry kept pretty quiet except for when asked a direct question by the other two.
Time passed. He had drifted into a state of relaxation that allowed him to concentrate on the words being said, and the rest of his mind was blissfully blank.
Sometime later, the witch who pushed the lunch trolley arrived at their compartment.
"D'you think we should wake him up? He looks like he could do with some food. " The voice he now knew was Ron's asked.
Someone approached him slowly. "Er—Professor?" Hermione asked nervously. "Excuse me—Professor?"
He didn't move. He wasn't hungry.
"Don't worry dear. If he's hungry when he wakes, I'll be up front with the driver." With that, the witch left the compartment sliding the door closed behind her.
"I suppose he is asleep? I mean—he hasn't died, has he?" asked Ron.
Did he look that bad?
"No, no, he's breathing." Whispered Hermione.
The afternoon continued on in the same manner as the morning; idle conversations being held by the other three members of the compartment.
It began to rain. He felt the window beneath his cheek become cold, and he could hear the patter of droplets hitting the glass.
Soon after the compartment door slid open again. A boy with a cool drawling voice entered the compartment and said, "Well, look who it is, Potty and the Weasel."
Two other boys laughed trollishly.
"I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley. Did your mother die of shock?"
Remus heard a clunk as something hit the floor. He was just about to open his eyes to intervene when he had a better idea—he snorted.
"Who's that?" asked the drawling boy sounding fearful.
"New teacher. What were you saying, Malfoy?" replied Harry coolly.
"C'mon." Malfoy muttered to his two cronies and they left the compartment.
It had worked! Remus felt a sudden urge to laugh, but he held it in. How he wished he could have done that to Lucius when he had picked on him on his first ride to Hogwarts... Lucius! This bully Malfoy must be his son. Well the apple certainly didn't fall far from the tree in this case.
The rain was falling heavier now. It pounded against the windowpane making it rattle beneath his head. The temperature seemed to have dropped several degrees as he was shivering. His thin patched robes provided little warmth.
Wistfully he began to day dream about Hogwarts and the welcoming feast. He still wasn't hungry, but he thought that a nice bowl of soup would feel great. Yes, a bowl of soup and then a nice warm bed to curl up in.
Lanterns were turning on up and down the train. He could see their warm glow through his eyelids. If he wasn't mistaken they were nearing Hogsmeade Station. It was hard to judge time with his eyes closed, but the train seemed to be slowing down thus indicating their imminent arrival at the platform. He breathed a small sigh of relief. No dementors had made an appearance. Dumbledore's feeling must have been wrong.
"Great," Ron said as he walked carefully past Remus to look out of the window, "I'm starving. I want to get to the feast..."
"We can't be there yet." Said Hermione.
"So why are we stopping?"
The train was definitely slowing down now. As the sound of the train died away, the pounding rain was amplified.
With a jolt the forward motion of the train halted, and the warm light of the lanterns was extinguished.
He was wrong.
Dementors were boarding the train.
*HP*HP*HP*HP*HP*HP*HP*HP*
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