DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter, that's JK Rowling's creation.
Re-Awakening - Chapter 7
Albus Dumbledore was upset. No, strike that. He wasn't upset; he was furious. He sent his werewolf to watch his vampire, and in the process, lost them both. The auror he'd sent to keep watch fell asleep shortly after said werewolf went to check up on the vampire. When the auror noticed Remus missing, he'd gone to check up on the boy and found no traces of either of them. The house was locked up tight, but nobody was home. Checking for magical transport residue revealed nothing. It appeared as if they'd just vanished into thin air.
The venerable old Headmaster knew better. The little monster by the name of Harry Potter could fade in and out of Hogwarts right under his nose, and he made it look easy! NOBODY should be able to get into and out of the school by magical means except by the use of the portkeys HE ALONE created. Yes, granted, they were unauthorized as far as the ministry was concerned, but Albus paid them little attention; they were all a bunch of weak-minded fools. they could never see the big picture. He had naught but contempt for their bureaucracy, they went about everything the wrong way as far as he was concerned. Sure, he'd considered having a more active role there, but he knew that it was more important to inspire loyalty in the children who would be moving into positions of control over the next few years. The minister - that incompetent fool Cornelius Fudge - was only a figurehead. It was the workers who got things done. Slowly but surely, he was putting some of his most loyal people in positions of greater authority. The way he saw it, for every known spy that Voldemort planted, he had placed TWO. If you were to double that amount, you'd have a network of spies that even the Order of the Phoenix didn't know about. With the next year's graduating class, he should have enough workers in the ministry to start pushing Voldemort's puppets out. Another year after that, and it should be easy enough to install a minister of his own choice.
However, all the planting, posturing, and placing he could do would be no good if he didn't have The Boy Who Lived on his side at the very least. In his pocket would be better, strictly under his control would be best, but it would take a while to get that. At the moment, said "Boy" was nowhere to be found.
Damnit, he had trusted that werewolf! It was foolish to think the man could be anything remotely loyal to the cause; he should have known better. He knew that Remus was extremely loyal to James Potter for some reason, a reason he had yet to ascertain. He thought that with James and Lilly out of the way, and some pity - err, sympathy - sprinkled about every so often, that HE would inherit that loyalty. If this was not the case, he just might need to find a way to eliminate the security risk the werewolf posed to the Order. He wondered if he still had that disguised silver mug...
A sound from upstairs roused him from his thoughts. It seemed he would finally get some answers to his questions. Having spent the last three hours in this far too entirely muggle house was beginning to get on his nerves. Not that he disliked muggles, mind you, but this house was just magically dead. If it weren't for the wards he'd placed around the house, he would have been irritable in addition to furious. The muffled sounds of voices were getting closer now. Albus stood and faced the stairs, putting his wand away. If he'd had it in his hand, he surely would have cursed the wolf to Voldemort and back for disobeying him and eluding his watcher. He left a slight pressure against his mental shields before the voices drifted down the stairs.
"Ah, I see that the headmaster has come to wish us a good morning, Remus!" Harry's voice drifted down the stairs moments before he appeared with the werewolf in tow.
Albus' anger momentarily dissipated as he noted the changed in Remus. He looked to have lost twenty years! No longer did he look haggard and beaten, and he appeared healthier than he should have been so soon after the full moon. The headmaster snarled silently to himself. It seemed that this new source of Wolfsbane was beyond his control. He would have to find this source and make sure they added the ... subduing ... ingredients. Remus was too poor to buy Wolfsbane, and Severus was more than happy to add the silver extract to the potion he was "forced" to brew. No... a happy and healthy werewolf just wouldn't do; they were just too dangerous and unpredictable.
"Would you care to explain yourself, Mister Lupin?" The old man asked harshly. He enjoyed the reaction his tone produced. For a moment the werewolf looked embmarrased, but the look was quickly replaced by a blank expression.
It wasn't Remus who answered him though.
"Professor, even you know that wolfsbane allows the werewoldf to just barely keep his mind. Any excitement and the potion would have been overridden by the wolf, putting me in extreme danger," Harry stated, smiling pleasantly.
Albus wanted to slap that smile off the boy's face. As far as he was concerned, the boy was just a tool, and had no business being happy.
Harry continued, "And wasn't the reason you had Remus looking after me to keep me out of trouble? We were in a safe and calm location with no distractions. It was a quiet night."
Albus wanted to believe the boy was lying, but he couldn't tell. The little monster was blocking his legilimancy. He allowed himself to smile a little bit though. As far as he could tell, the boy was telling the truth.
"And the wolfsbane, Harry? Who brewed it?" he asked.
The boy answered again, "I'll leave you to your secrets Professor, and I'll ask you to do the same for me."
More secrets? No, this just wouldn't do. Albus gathered his magical energy around him, darkening the room and making the air crackle around him forebodingly. Most men would have found this intimidating, but the little monster in front of him only smirked.
"Nice try, Albus," said Harry, who stepped closer. With a poking motion, Albus' energy bubble quite literally popped and sent sparks flying harmlessly in all directions.
"Your magic is indeed powerful and impressive, but you no longer intimidate me," he said. "Please refrain from doing so in the future."
The boy smiled and turned to the werewolf. "Thank you for staying with me last night Professor Lupin. I'm sorry my potion didn't mask the pain of transformation for you."
As the two of them walked to the door, Lupin replied, "I'm not your professor anymore Harry. Please call me Remus. As for the Wolfbane, there's no need to worry. I haven't felt this good after the full moon in a LONG time. If your provider can do that again, I will be a very happy man next month." With a bow to Harry and Albus, Remus bid his goodbyes and left the house.
Albus was speechless. The boy had indeed found a new supplier for the potion. He would definitely need to look into that. He made a mental note to have one of his more ... impressionable young resources take the task on.
"I know what you're thinking, Albus," the sound of the vampire's voice brought him out of his reverie. "Remus has suffered long enough. It's not very nice of you to order all of Magical Brittian's potions masters to add Silver Nitrate to their wolfsbane potions. A healthy and happy werewolf is a productive and very loyal werewolf. I'm willing to bet that if you lifted your orders and fabricated a discovery of an improved formula, you'd have the world's werewolves on your side within a few months.
The old wizard only glared at the boy before activating the portkey in his pocket. When he landed back in his office, he threw the trinket as hard as he could against the stone wall opposite his desk.
'How dare he!?' he ranted. 'How dare he try to manipulate me of all people!"
He sat roughly in his chair and pulled out a box of Lemon Drops. These weren't the ones he offered to his students, but the special ones he had laced with his favorite potion. He stared into the fireplace as the potion took affect and his troubles faded away.
NOTE: Folks, it's been over FOUR YEARS since I wrote this. This chapter represents the end of what I had written back in 2004. I have nothing else left to write up, and I'm currently facing a writer's block the size of San Jose when I look at my notebooks. I don't plan on abandoning this story or As I See It, but I have nothing left to do at this time. Thank you for reading this far. I appreciate being able to keep you entertained.
Until next time...