Chapter
Three
The
Medal
One cool morning Stephen Seeker looked out of the kitchen window shortly after breakfast and discovered Teddy Lupin, crouched beside one of the flowerbeds. He looked down at something Seeker couldn't see. Escaped from Granny's custody, the little brat, he thought with a grimace, grabbed for the jacket hanging over the back of his chair and made his way out into the garden.
His shadow fell over the boy.
"What do you think your aunt would say if she knew that you are here?" he asked in a mild tone.
Teddy looked up, blinking at the tall man.
"She'd give me house arrest," he replied gleefully, "or send me to bed without dinner."
"Neither of which seems to be dreadful enough to keep you on a leash," Seeker said dryly. "And after sneaking into my garden without asking for my permission, would you at least tell me what you are doing?"
Teddy had the decorum to blush; he moved back and revealed a small heap of dried grass and thin twigs that he had piled on the ground beside the stone bordering of the bed. He made a small gesture with his right hand, and suddenly red sparks shot through grass and wood, and a small flame flickered on top of the heap. Any embarrassment in the boy's face vanished like dew in the sun when a thin thread of blue smoke curled into the windless air.
"Gran Dromeda has forbidden me to do this at home, after I set the curtains in her living room on fire - but that was only an accident!" he hastily added.
"I see," Stephen Seeker remarked, hiding his surprise behind a calm, unmoving face. Creating spontaneous fire without a wand was a rather unusual ability in a child his age. "You can't expect your grandmother to be overly enthusiastic if you try to burn down her house."
"Aunt Ruta is right," Teddy said with a mischievous grin. "You are funny. She says you make her laugh."
"Ah?" Seeker was slightly taken aback – and even more so when he noticed that the boy's hazelnut brown hair had suddenly turned a merry shade of violet. Firestarter, son of a werewolf and a Metamorphmagus – an interesting blend of bloodlines indeed.
"Come inside - before my Muggle neighbors start to peer over the fence and wonder about your hair color." Teddy raised his eyes from the smoldering little pyre before him and was hit by the full force of a gaze that once had caused dozens of students to duck and freeze like scared rabbits. "And if I were you, Master Lupin, I would refrain from attempting to ignite fires as long as you are in my house."
Teddy got up from the ground, stomped the small flames out and followed his host into the cottage, the very picture of childlike innocence and humility.
vvvvv
Stephen Seeker had to blow the dust from Individual Incarnations Of Amazing Abilities before he could look up "Firestarters". It had been on the bottom shelf in his study, of course, and he supposed he ought to be glad he owned a copy at all, but it was a standard reference. He flipped pages to the appropriate section. Creating fire was an ability he had seldom discovered among his charges; but he'd had the chance to observe the problem dealt with more than once. The main thing was to give the child a way to cope with unexpected consequences. It took a few minutes to think of an item Teddy could use as a snuffer in case that his dangerous little gift brought him trouble. A handkerchief would do -- with a durable variation of an Aguamenti Charm, to wring enough water out of the thin cloth to cope even with a burning sofa. If the boy carried a handkerchief, of course.
He left the book on his desk and went to check on his uninvited guest. Teddy still sat on the stuffed chair in the living room, intently studying the magnificently illustrated book about dragons Seeker had given him to keep him occupied.
"Have you a handkerchief?" he asked.
Teddy fumbled in his pocket and produced a pristine square of white. "Gran Dromeda says you should always have a handkerchief," he said, with childish ostentation.
"Excellent." Seeker plucked it from the boys' grasp. "Stay here," he ordered, with a daunting expression. "And don't touch anything."
Teddy ducked his head and squirmed a little. "But I was going to go to the pastry shop," he protested faintly. "I'm hungry."
Seeker smiled to himself. There was nothing like food to distract a child from his usual occupation of troublemaking. "Stay here," he repeated, a little less sternly, "and I'll have a snack sent in to you."
Winky stood in front of the sink, directing a huge lump of steel wool in busy, scrubbing circles along the bottom of a pot that had contained baked beans.
"Winky, we have a guest."
Her tennis ball-sized eyes grew even bigger, and she swallowed nervously.
"A guest? Master has invited someone into his house?" she squeaked. "But that's dangerous!"
"He has invited himself," Seeker gave back, "and right now he's no more dangerous than some lumbering pup – only a bit tiresome. Your experience from Hogwarts should help you to feed him properly." He turned away with a faint echo of his old arrogance, his lips twitching nonetheless. And may I be at the other end of the world once he's grown into his paws.
By the time he came back into the living room, Winky had done her domestic magic, and Teddy appeared to have worked his way methodically through a huge plate of sugar-drenched Danish pastries. The scent of cocoa came out of a cup beside him on the table. His hair had turned back to its reasonable hazelnut shade, and at the sight of his host he abruptly remembered his manners.
"Fank'ou!" he managed around a mouthful of crispy dough, nut cream and icing. "Taft'f vwy fine!"
"Empty your mouth," Seeker said amicably, "and don't stuff yourself to the brim. I don't want to be made responsible for your upset stomach. – And I will accompany you home as soon as you are finished."
Teddy swallowed.
"I can go home alone!" he said indignantly, wiping his lips with his sleeve and quickly changing to the napkin beside the plate when he noticed Seeker's gaze. "Can I have my handkerchief back again now?"
He took out the charmed handkerchief, and taught Teddy how to handle it in case of an emergency. He was out of practice - or perhaps eight-year-olds simply weren't up to the same standards as older children. Still, after a few minutes, Teddy got the hang of twisting the cloth with the correct emphasis and was able to produce a flow of water. The boy was deeply impressed and honestly appreciative; he reverently stored the useful gift away in his pocket. "Now I can stop getting burns on my sandals!"
"That should be an improvement," Seeker said dryly.
"Please, sir – do you think I could meet your elf? Uncle Harry has one. His name is Kreacher, and he's terribly old, but he's the only one I've ever seen. Uncle Harry's wife's named Ginny, and they have a brand new baby, a little boy. What's the name of your elf?"
Seeker blinked at that sudden barrage of questions and information. He was definitely out of practice.
"Her name is Winky," he finally said. "You can meet her, if you'd like – but you'd best behave, she is shy and a bit afraid of strangers. And as soon as you have done that, you should return home before your grandmother starts to worry."
Teddy nodded enthusiastically and showed a rather charming smile. "Of course. And I won't frighten your elf, I promise."
Seeker gave a short, polite bow. "I am sure she will be infinitely thankful for your consideration. Winky?"
A round head with flapping ears and lamp-like eyes came into sight. Winky stared at the boy sitting in front of the nearly-empty plate, and Teddy stared back in utter fascination.
"Hello," he said shyly. "I'm Teddy – and thank you for the pastries and the cocoa. That was very friendly of you. They tasted marvelous."
The distrustful expression of Winky's face softened.
"Does young Master perhaps want some apple juice?" she asked.
"Sure!" Teddy jumped down from the chair and followed her into the kitchen, prattling happily about his favorite treats. Winky, who was justifiably proud of her baking, provided him with more things to stuff into his pockets, but as soon as his juice was duly drunk, he waved at Winky and gave his host another bright smile before shooting out of the door to prevent any escort. Seeker shook his head, but he didn't truly mind. The boy could find his way home all right in such a small village. He saw him running along the graveled path and out of the garden gate, and through the half-opened window he could hear him whistling.
His visitor disposed of, Stephen Seeker returned to the study and took a last, thorough look over a letter he'd written the evening before; it was addressed to the only person who knew his former identity and who had been an invaluable help eight years ago when he needed his money and the very few personal things he wished to keep. He removed the blanket from the cage where a brown long-eared owl was sleeping. She opened one yellow eye and gave a drowsy hoot when he took her out and fastened the letter on her leg. Seeker opened the window and saw her flutter away, vanishing behind the small oak grove bordering the back garden of his cottage.
vvvvv
That evening Ruta took over the task of coaxing Teddy Lupin out of the bathtub and into his bed while Andromeda Tonks cast a few helpful spells at pots, plates and cutlery, clearing away the remnants of their dinner.
To say the truth, Ruta enjoyed the banter with Remus' son that Andromeda found so exhausting; Teddy knew very well that the liberties he could take with his Gran were rather difficult to perform when it came to his aunt. Unlike the old woman, Ruta wouldn't hesitate to haul him out of the tub and maneuver him under the covers with a short flick of her willow wand as soon as she got tired of the game. And Teddy was old enough that he found it most embarrassing to be manhandled like a sack of potatoes.
So he sat on the quilted counterpane of his bed after a reasonable span of time, wrapped in a fluffy bath robe, waiting for his aunt to give him new pajamas, and toying with a handkerchief.
"I visited your friend today," he told her.
"My friend?" Ruta turned around to him, frowning. "Who do you… oh. Are you talking about Mr. Seeker?"
"Yes," he said with all signs of pride as he carefully tucked the handkerchief under his pillow. "And he wasn't even mad at me when I made a fire in his garden."
"Teddy!" Ruta tossed a candy-striped pajama in his direction. "You didn't!"
"He was not mad at me!" Teddy repeated. "And he invited me into his house, and I got to meet his house-elf, and she gave me Danish pastries and cocoa, and..."
"What?" Ruta interrupted the boy. She shook her head. "My goodness, Teddy! You can't impose on someone like that!"
It took all her self-control to keep the dismay she felt out of her voice. In all the weeks since she'd met the new inhabitant of the cottage at the end of the road, she had been careful never to venture further than the sidewalk in front of his garden gate. After that first race up to the door to catch Teddy, she had wanted to assure the reclusive Stephen Seeker that she would respect his boundaries. She knew that he grew more and more relaxed in her presence, and that he sometimes even seemed to be waiting for their regular, noncommittal meetings in the afternoon. But he was still extremely watchful – she counted the tentative invitation to teach her chess as an achievement. Ruta was slightly horrified and at the same time honestly surprised that someone as withdrawn as this complicated, mysterious man had actually surrendered to Teddy's brazen charm.
She picked her nephew's shirt and trousers from the floor, automatically searching the pockets for the remnants of the boy's day… leaves and rolled-up threads, usually, but also nasty surprises like dead frogs and earthworms. Aha. Only a coin this time. She pulled her fingers back and gazed at the small item in her hand.
It was not a coin. It was a kind of medal, shaped like an octagon. A gem was set right in the middle, glowing in the light of the candelabra like a drop of blood. It reminded her of something… but of what?
"Teddy? Where did you find this?"
Silence.
"Teddy?"
She raised her head and met his eyes; he returned her gaze with an expression of clueless innocence that didn't fool her for a second. She walked over to the bed and sat down beside him; he had turned away and was staring down at the covers, his back strangely stiff.
"Once again, Teddy: where did you find this?"
When he spoke, his voice was very soft. "In a drawer."
"Where? In Mr. Seeker's house?"
"N… no. I mean… yes."
Ruta cleared her throat.
"Did you ask for his permission first?"
"N… no."
"Did he invite you to explore his belongings?"
"No." For the first time he looked at her again, blushing. "But he didn't say not to touch anything until afterwards."
"Aha." She was surprised at the intensity of her anger. Silly boy. When she continued, her voice carried a more than palpable hint of frost. "Let's see if I can sum this up correctly. First you storm the garden of a complete stranger and ring his doorbell in a foolish prank. You apologize and promise not to do this again. Three weeks later you return and try to set his garden on fire."
"I didn't…"
"Teddy Remus Lupin, I'm not finished yet! For some reason completely beyond my understanding he ignores all that and even rewards you with your favorite treat. He is careless enough to give you access to his home and to feed you, and as soon as he turns his back on you for a few minutes, you ransack his drawers and steal something?"
Teddy hung his head. She got up from the bed and looked down at him, feeling sad and appalled at the same time.
"I have no words to tell you how terribly disappointed I am. You won't leave this house for two weeks. You'll write a letter of apology in the morning. And don't even think about going there again, given your peculiar idea of honesty!"
Ruta turned around, deliberately ignoring the short, inconsequential pang of guilt at the sight of his miserable, little face; she snuffed out the candles, left the room and closed the door behind her.
vvvvv
She would have to bring it back, of course… as soon as possible.
Ruta sat in her own living room, the medal lying in front of her on the table. Slowly she followed the contour with one fingertip, still trying to figure out where on earth she had seen something like this before. It was heavy enough to be made of gold, and the gem had the exquisite raspberry-pink shade of a ruby. The surface was plain, only decorated with an intricate pattern of interwoven lines… Celtic, perhaps.
A family heirloom? A kind of honorable decoration for brave deeds long passed?
But if this were a decoration, there should be some sort of inscription… and there was none. And besides - this was not her business to know. It belonged to a man who would beyond doubt not be pleased at all if he learned of Teddy's theft and her curiosity.
Her inquisitive Ravenclaw spirit and her natural reservation were fighting a fierce battle within her heart. She knew that she had to return this item to him, best unlooked at, best unexamined… but at the same time she felt the growing certainty that she finally held the key to an important part of the mystery that was Stephen Seeker in her hands.
Ruta sighed, rubbing her brow.
She was no better than Teddy.
Defeated, she opened the drawer on the front side of the table and pulled her wand out, pointing at the medal and thinking furiously. Perhaps…
"Veritas Revelio!"
Nothing happened. The ruby returned her guilty, frustrated gaze like a mocking, red eye.
There were two possibilities remaining: either this thing was nothing more than it seemed, a beautiful piece of jewelry… or her Breaking Spell was not strong enough. And if that was the case, Stephen Seeker had put some real effort in shielding this item against unwelcome eyes.
She pointed at the medal again, summoning whatever power she possessed and concentrating with all her might.
"Finite Incantatem!"
This time something happened. The pattern of lines started to flow, sending regular ripples of gold over the surface as if she had thrown a stone into a pond. The ruby sparkled, seemingly rising from the medal - and then, all of a sudden, it was gone and the lines settled into their final arrangement.
She looked down at the medal, holding her breath. It was not made of gold but of brass, and now she knew where she had seen something like this before.
It was an Order of the Merlin. Remus had been awarded the Order of the Merlin, First Class posthumously… just in time to be buried with it. She remembered the bitter morning when she stood at his open grave, one arm around the shaking form of Andromeda Tonks, forced to face two coffins with two fallen lovers. She remembered her thought: An order… what a poor compensation for lost lives and lost chances.
Her fingers turned the medal, and she read the engraved words on the backside. The very next moment one hand flew up to her mouth and she sat staring at the beautifully shaped letters, numb with shock.
Severus Snape (1960 – 1998)