Author's Note - I realized after my last post that the replies to reviews I'd gotten for chapters nine or so on were not received. I have attempted to properly reply to everyone, but if you have not received a reply from a review you gave, drop me a PM or email (it's released now) so that I can. I firmly believe that if you take the time to review you deserve a personal reply because reviews, while not expected, are greatly greatly appreciated. Fuel for the weary author soul you might say.
To those anonymous or nonregistered reviews, thanks so much.
SiriusHarryPotter - I can't speak for how it is in the UK, but in the US, the child of a cousin is your second cousin, so Tonks would be Sirius's second cousin. If its different in the UK, someone let me know. I'd like that to be correct. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story and I hope you keep reading.
Umbra Occultus Unus Affectu... - lol, glad that everyone tiptoeing around Remus didn't ring false. We know it gets better. Gyan Varen is my own creation and ironically, you'll read a bit more about him here.
Gulogirl - Upon looking it up, puffskeins are not, in fact, pink, but cream colored. It is indeed the pygmy puffs that come in various colors, so shall we say that, like mink skin coats or rabbits feet, puffskein hats are commonly dyed to their owners taste (::shrug:: sounds good).
reader13 - Glad you like how I'm doing Tonks so far. She's going to come to feature more and more, so I hope I do her justice.
As I said, if I missed someone, drop me a line. I swear I'll get to the Patronus lessons. I really thought the next chapter would be that, but then my imagination did its own thing. On with the show...
Chapter 6 – The Apprentice
Neither Marauder slept for the rest of the night, but after Remus owed Sirius seven Honeydukes bars, three boxes of Every Flavor Beans, and two blood lollies ("Why ever would you want a blood lolly Padfoot?") they gave up their poker game and decided to finish the last of Tinkie's basket and get a start on cleaning the dining room and the Weasley's rooms.
Sirius coughed at the cloud of dust that was steadily accumulating as they cleared out the third bedroom.
"You get the feeling," Sirius coughed, "that we're just shuffling this stuff from one place to the other," he waved his hand in front of his face, surveying the pile of rubbish in front of him.
"Yes," Remus sighed, "but I think the pile gets smaller with each shuffle."
"What is the filthy blood traitor and his werewolf doing, Kreacher wonders?" A scratching voice made both wizards start into the air, drawing wands. Behind them in the doorway stood a bony house elf wearing a sparse loincloth, glaring at the both of them.
"Kreacher?" Sirius said incredulously.
"Mistress's shame speaks to Kreacher," he grumbled. "Kreacher thought he was in Azkaban prison."
"Just where have you been hiding?" Sirius demanded.
"Kreacher has been in Mistress's bedroom," the house elf said defiantly, "Kreacher serves his Mistress faithfully."
"Bloody hell, little wonder he hasn't put his own head on the wall," Sirius grumbled. "If Kreacher serves his Mistress so faithfully why is the house a wreck?"
"Kreacher takes care of the important things as Mistress asks," he spat back.
"Well you're doing as I ask now. Take this lot down and throw it in the rubbish chute," Sirius ordered.
The little elf glared up at him.
"I might have been blasted off that infernal tapestry, but I'm still a Black and you're still bound to obey me, now get to it!"
With exaggerated slowness, the elf gathered up just a few pieces from the pile and padded out of the room.
"Can't believe the little bastard's still alive." Sirius shook his head as he went back to cleaning.
"So the Black family keeps the genealogy of their house elves too?" Remus quipped.
Sirius snorted, "Well, not exactly, but every house elf we've had has been a descendant of the last, so in a way."
"So your mum and dad didn't get a chance to see another little Kreacher come about?"
"Ugh, Moony mate, you're given me horrible mental pictures here," Sirius grimaced, scrubbing at his eyes.
Remus snickered as he gathered up moth-eaten curtains and added them to the pile.
"So tell me something," Sirius began, "What's this apprenticeship Dumbledore mentioned last night?"
Remus shrugged, "I got my Masters in Defense."
"Thank you. I did gather that much." Sirius groused, "That Shacklebolt fellow seemed surprised."
"Gyan hadn't taken an apprentice in forty-two years when he took me on, and I didn't exactly advertise about it when I was finished," Remus replied.
"Well, he must have been impressed with you to take you on after being in retirement," Sirius said.
Remus snorted, "Not exactly."
Sirius threw down the stack of moldy books he was carrying, "You are worse than talking to Sadie McCullen in forth year. I thought the girl was monosyllabic. How did you get taken on? What was it like?"
"You could have just asked," Remus smirked. Before Sirius could retort, he continued, "It's not exactly glamorous or impressive. In fact, I think if he'd had his way about it, he wouldn't have apprenticed me at all."
Remus blew his breath between the palms of his gloved hands. The knitting had worn thin in the palms and small holes were ever expanding at the knuckles and finger tips. He approached the group cautiously, having learned by now that he would either be immediately accepted or rebuffed. He quietly wedged himself between two men around the fire in the iron barrel. They glanced up at him shortly, then turned back to warming their own bodies, and Remus sighed with relief as he too held up his palms to the warmth provided. A wicked wind had shipped through the streets of Edinburgh for days. Remus was frozen and tired and while his own conjured fires could keep him warm, there was something about shoulders by his side, even strange ones, that helped bolster his spirits.
"Say, that's a funny mist," one of the men said, squinting across the vacant lot.
Remus glanced up and caught his breath.
"Aye, looks like some kind of bird."
"There's your imagination running away with you again Paddy," one of the men guffawed, "Been that long?"
"Not that kind of bird," the man grumbled. The group watched as the bird-shaped mist slowly drifted across the lot and out of sight. "Oy, where'd the new lad go?"
Remus disapparated around the corner and turned to meet the Pheonix patronus, "Remus," Dumbledore's voice spoke, "could you meet me in Hogsmeade by the post at the end of the lane?" The phoenix apparition slowly dissolved.
Remus stood in place for several moments. He'd not been in contact with wizards for two years, since he had lost everything. Then he glanced down at the state of himself. His trousers had been patched repeatedly at the knees. The right patch was hanging loose at the corner and the bottoms of his pants were frayed. Both shoes had holes in the sides. His shirt and jacket were both frayed and ripped. His hair had grown just past his ears under his knit cap and five days growth of beard was on his face in attempt to keep him warm. In short, he looked like a vagrant. He snorted. He supposed he was a vagrant. As tempted as he was, one didn't turn down a request from Albus Dumbledore. Shooting his own patronus back in agreement, he then turned on the spot and apparated into Hogsmeade.
Remus blinked a few times, reorienting himself as he gazed down the main street of Hogsmeade seeing the familiar shops where he and the Marauders had wreaked havoc what seemed like a lifetime ago. It startled him to think that some of students still safely ensconced inside the castle walls had been in their early years when James, Sirius, Peter, and he had been in their last. His eyes shifted to stare at the outline of the school past the town. His heart ached, remembering the best time of his life. His lips seemed to move of his own accord…
"I solemnly swear…"
"Ah, Remus," Dumbledore disapparated with a pop in front of him, "So wonderful to see you again."
"Professor," Remus nodded, stopping to clear his throat which was froggy as much from disuse as the cold, "I'm pleased to see you too, though a bit surprised."
"Well, it has been too long, and I do have a bit of information that I think you may find interesting. Can I interest you in a hot tea at the Three Broomsticks? It's been dreadfully cold this winter. My treat."
Remus had an idea that he knew better than Dumbledore how cold it had been and at the same time, rather thought Dumdledore knew this as well.
"I'd like that," he nodded. The two wizards walked up the main street, the wind howling too fiercely to speak.
"Perhaps," Dumbledore finally spoke as he closed the door to the Three Broomsticks behind him, "I should have asked you to meet me at the station instead. It would have been closer."
"It's quite all right," Remus replied, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck, "I haven't been to Hogsmeade since I left school."
The two wizards settled at a table by the window, the fire glowing nearby and Remus could feel himself getting sleepy.
"Professor Dumbledore, what can I get you and…Remus Lupin?" Rosmerta gasped, looking at the face of the other wizard.
"Hello Rosmerta," Remus said softly, his beard hiding the flush of his face, "You're, uh, still working here are you?"
"Yeah, um, I decided to stay on after all." She continued to stare at him, unsure what to say.
"Did you go to Paris?" he asked.
"Oh…no, no it wasn't safe to travel those next few years because…well you know that…" she fumbled, "and then after, I just…I just stayed here. What about you?"
"I didn't go to Paris either," Remus smiled softly.
Rosmerta rolled his eyes and grinned, "No, what have you been doing?"
"Just odd jobs," he said softly.
"You know…Mr. Angling, he could use a bit of help in the evenings in you need…"
"No," Remus interrupted, "thank you, but I'm all right."
Dumbledore smiled pleasantly throughout the exchange and when the following silence began to grow awkward, he said, "Rosmerta, if we could have two hot teas, Darjeeling with two for me please and…" he looked at Remus expectantly.
"Do you still carry cinnamon spiced black?" he asked hopefully.
"Of course," Rosmerta nodded, "Be right up."
"I'd forgotten that you worked here the summer between your sixth and seventh years," Dumbledore said as she walked away.
Remus nodded, "Yes. Rosmerta was always talking about wanting to go to Paris and learn to cook from Chef Abelard Beauchamp. I guess she never went."
"She's young still." Dumbledore said, staring intently at Remus, "There are still many avenues available for the young."
Remus stirred in his seat as Rosmerta brought their tea then tucked his chin as Rosmerta sat a corned beef on rye in front of him.
"What a wonderful suggestion, Rosmerta," Dumbledore beamed up at her, "I'll have one as well. Please, go ahead," he said as Rosmerta went to retrieve another sandwich.
The grumbling in his stomach overruled his pride as he dug in. Dumbledore sat quietly, sipping his tea as he watched Remus make himself chew slowly. He smiled and nodded as Rosmerta brought him another.
"So," he began, "How have you been?"
"Well enough," Remus said quietly, swallowing.
"I must confess I lost track of you these last few years."
"As long as we're making confessions, I'll admit it was my intention to disappear."
Dumbledore's eyebrows raised slightly. It was apparent he hadn't expected Remus to admit dropping out of sight. When his former student didn't continue, he spoke.
"Sometimes it helps to get away," he said simply, "I wonder, do you remember the name Gyan Varen from your NEWT Defense classes?"
Remus thought for a moment, "Indian wizard born in Delhi. He defeated the Chinese Dark Wizard Xao Po in 1914."
Dumbledore smiled, "I'd give points to Gryffindor if I could."
"Honestly, Professor…"
"Albus."
"That's like asking any witch or wizard who you are." Remus said, sipping his tea.
"A British wizard, perhaps, but you'll find that memories quickly fade and the conqueror of a Dark Wizard almost seventy years ago on another continent has faded from the memories of many here in Britain. It is perhaps why Voldemort was able to build a following so easily. The dangers pass and we forget. With each new rising, I hope that witches and wizards will remember, but they do not."
Remus sat quietly for a moment, finding it odd that he should forget the age of the wizard before him who could remember hearing of the atrocities of Xao Po, had himself defeated Gellert Grindewald, and most recently led the fight against Lord Voldemort.
"But that is not why I have asked to see you. Varen contacted me asking for assistance is in a research project that he has apparently been working on for several years with limited success. When he told me about the project, I immediately thought of you. I informed him that I believed I had the perfect research assistant for him and if he were to take you on as an apprentice, you might agree."
Remus searched Dumbledore's face warily, "Professor…"
"Albus"
"There are so many things you're not telling me I don't know where to begin."
Dumbledore smiled, "I can always count on your to call me on my cryptic tendancies. Gyan Varen wants to do a definitive study of werewolves. He has had many failed attempts studying packs across India and the Middle East. At present, he has one werewolf that has agreed to be studied that is living on his property, but as there is only one and it seems this werewolf is newly infected, he does not feel that he is getting completely accurate data. I told him that I knew a werewolf who was a fully qualified wizard who would be able to give him accurate information, but in return, he should instruct you in Defense. He agreed."
Remus slowly turned his tea cup, "It was my understanding that Varen hadn't taken an apprentice since before Grindewald's reign." Dumbledore nodded, "So the only reason he would be taking me on is that he wants to do this study."
"I agree that it is not the most ideal of circumstances, but this is an opportunity that no other wizard will ever have again, to learn from Gyan Varen." Dumbledore remained quiet, letting Remus consider.
"So when does he expect me?"