The leaving feast was, as usual, an exercise in extravagance. All the students from all the houses were present—even Ron had recovered from his broken leg, under Madam Pomfrey's watchful eye. There were two open spaces at the head table, however, as neither Professor Lupin nor Professor Snape was in attendance. When Dumbledore awarded Slytherin the House Cup and Quidditch Cup, Professor Sinastra accepted for Slytherin on Snape's behalf.
Harry understood why Snape was missing; his head of house was still unconscious. Professor Lupin, however, had reverted to human form at sunup, and (ostensibly) had consumed wolfsbane potion in plenty of time for dinner. When the feast ended, Harry immediately went to Lupin's office to check on his teacher.
When Harry arrived, he found Lupin's office entirely vacant. The walls were bare, the grindylow tank had been emptied, and the professor's trunk was gone. The only thing to suggest that the office had ever been occupied was a pair of envelopes lying on the desk. The envelopes were addressed in Lupin's handwriting, one to Harry and the other to Dumbledore.
Harry approached the desk and opened his envelope, removing the letter he found inside.
Dear Harry,
It has been a pleasure being your teacher this year, and I hope that you feel the same about being my student. You have demonstrated true talent with charms, and I am proud to say that I played some small part in your education.
This morning, I tendered my resignation to Professor Dumbledore. While I wish that I could continue as your teacher, the events of last evening have shown me that I am too great a risk to the students in this school. Beyond the dangers inherent in my condition, I have come to doubt my own ability to make reasonable decisions.
Last night, I was using the Marauder's Map to watch you and ensure that you did not come to harm. As a consequence, I watched as Sirius dragged Ron Weasley into the Whomping Willow. Impossibly, I saw that Peter Pettigrew was present, as well.
I rushed out of my office to offer help and to solve the mystery of Peter's reappearance. As I left I met Professor Snape, who was bringing me my monthly draught of wolfsbane potion. I brought Professor Snape to my desk, showed him the map, and quickly explained the situation. In our haste to proceed to the Whomping Willow, I neglected to drink my wolfsbane potion, thereby setting in motion the unfortunate events of last evening.
I have been a werewolf for almost all my life, and never expected to be accepted into Hogwarts as a student. Professor Dumbledore was kind enough to accommodate me, and constructed the Shrieking Shack as a means to contain me during my monthly transformations and prevent me from being a danger to other students. Your father, Sirius and Peter befriended me, and it wasn't long before they discover my secret. Instead of shunning me, James and Sirius and Peter wanted to help. They set a goal of becoming animagi, as the werewolf's curse can only affect humans.
Your father was the first to transform, and took the form of a stag. Sirius was not long after. Together, they were able to help Peter transform. As a rat, Peter could sneak under the Whomping Willow and press the secret knot. James and Sirius, meanwhile, were larger animals that could exert some sort of control over a werewolf. Together, we would leave the Shrieking Shack and gambol around the Forbidden Forest or the grounds of Hogwarts.
Our actions were reckless and stupid. We could have killed somebody… or worse.
I kept these actions a secret, because they betrayed Dumbledore's trust. He offered me a chance at a normal life, but I betrayed him. I betrayed Dumbledore again at the beginning of the school year by not telling him about Sirius's animagus transformation. I told myself that Sirius was entering Hogwarts using Dark Arts, but I knew that I was lying to myself. And yet I couldn't bring myself to tell, because it would require confession of my earlier misdeeds. If only I had told… A cleverer wizard than I might have made the connections. Dumbledore might have realized that Peter was the spy all along. Sirius might not have spent so many years in Azkaban.
I hope that, in time, I will master my weaknesses, both magical and personal. Until that time, I must remove myself from situations where I might cause harm to others.
Harry, I look forward to a day when we will meet again. And, as I am no longer your teacher, please accept the enclosed parchment with my blessings.
Sincerely,
Remus Lupin
PS – I believe, with the firmest conviction, that your mother and father would be proud of you.
Harry placed the letter on the table and looked again into the envelope. A tightly folded piece of parchment was tucked into the bottom. Harry recognized the parchment instantly: the Marauder's Map.
"Looking for someone, Harry?"
Harry turned and found Professor Dumbledore standing in the door of the office.
"Just Professor Lupin, sir." Harry tucked the blank map into his pocket, then picked Lupin's letter up from the desk. "He resigned?"
"First thing this morning," Dumbledore said. "A decision that I understand, but I am sad to see such a thing happen to a wizard such as Remus Lupin."
"Do you know where he is going, Professor?"
"Alas, he refused to tell me," said Dumbledore. "But Remus will return to us when the time is right."
Harry turned to the table. "He left a letter for you, as well, Professor."
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Did he? Perhaps you will bring it to my office. You and I are overdue for a conversation, Harry, and I find that these conversations are often made easier by the presence of a dish of candies."
Harry picked up the letter and followed Dumbledore out. When they reached the gargoyle guarding the stairs to Dumbledore's office, the headmaster gave the password ("candy cane") and led Harry up the stairs. Dumbledore took a seat behind his desk, and Harry took a seat in a chair on the other side. He handed Dumbledore the letter, and the Headmaster scanned it quickly. Dumbledore smiled, then set the letter aside.
"Harry, would you like to attend the World Cup of Quidditch this summer?"
Harry bolted erect. "Yes, of course! I didn't even know it was happening!" Harry narrowed his eyes. "Wait. There's no way that the Quidditch World Cup was in Professor Lupin's letter."
"You are correct. Lucius Malfoy has contacted me and offered to escort you to the event. You would travel to the event with the Malfoy family, stay with them, and finish the summer at Malfoy Manor. Is this something you would wish to do?"
There was something about the way that Dumbledore was asking the question that made Harry pause. Harry thought for a moment before responding.
"Yes, it is. I'll take almost any chance to escape the Dursleys; seeing the World Cup and spending the summer with Draco are a bonus."
Dumbledore nodded. "Harry, if you wish to see the World Cup with the Malfoys, I will not prevent you from doing so. However, I must ask your indulgence. Would you grant me a familiar favor?"
"Don't tell anybody about Sirius Black," Harry said. Dumbledore was right—this was a familiar favor. It was the third time in three years that the Headmaster had asked Harry to remain silent about the events surrounding the end of the school year.
"I hope I do not ask too much of you," Dumbledore said.
"But why?" Harry asked.
The headmaster was silent for several moments. "Harry, what do you know of Mr. Malfoy's past?"
"He was a Death Eater," Harry said.
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.
"He told me this summer," Harry said, answering Dumbledore's unspoken question. "He told me when he was warning me about Sirius Black. But… wait." Harry frowned. Something he had just said had set his thoughts in motion, and he wasn't sure he liked where they were leading. "If Mr. Malfoy was a Death Eater, wouldn't he have known that Sirius wasn't actually a traitor? Wouldn't he have known that Peter Pettigrew was a Death Eater?"
"Perhaps, Harry," Dumbledore said slowly. "But perhaps not. Just as Voldemort made attempts to spy on me, I made attempts to spy upon him. To protect Peter Pettigrew identity as a spy, only the upper echelons of the Death Eaters would have been aware of his status."
"Mr. Malfoy told me that he was placed under an Imperius Curse and blackmailed. He probably wouldn't have known that Pettigrew was a spy," Harry said.
"Is that what you think?"
Harry was silent.
"I would like to show you something, Harry." Dumbledore stood and walked to a small cabinet. He removed a silver bowl from the cabinet and placed the bowl on his desk. "Have you ever seen this before, or something like it?"
Harry shook his head.
"This is a penseive. It allows memories to be viewed with great clarity. I find that it often offers fresh perspective on even the most confusing situations." Dumbledore raised his wand to his temple, the pulled it away slowly. A glimmering wisp of light followed the tip of the wand, finally pulling free from Dumbledore's head with a snap. Dumbledore placed the light in the penseive, where it lay in the bottom of the bowl in a puddle. "This particular memory may be of interest to you," Dumbledore said. "If you will simply lean in slightly…"
Harry leaned forward and looked into the bowl. Images seemed to flash through the glittering liquid of the memory. If Harry only got a little bit closer, maybe he could see…
And suddenly, Harry was falling, down and down and down into the memory.
*!*!*!*!*
Harry found himself standing in a large room, surrounded by dozens of wizards. He spun around in a panic, reaching for his wand. Whatever this was, it seemed to be some sort of trap.
"Do not be alarmed, Harry."
Harry spun. The headmaster was standing next to him, calmly taking in their surroundings.
"Where are we?"
"We are still in my office, Harry. However, that is not a very good answer to your question, is it?" Dumbledore smiled kindly. "What you see around you is a memory of mine. These are the chambers of the Wizangamot, shortly after the fall of Voldemort."
"How?" Harry asked.
"A penseive is something like muggle television," Dumbledore said. "It allows us to watch our memories, just as a muggle would watch a pre-recorded television program. Similarly, we cannot affect the events that we see here today, but, like any memory, the events can certainly have an effect upon us. Please, Harry, watch carefully the scene before you."
Harry turned back to the Wizangamot chambers. The faces of the members of the Wizangamot were all variations of the same expression: stern, grave, serious in the extreme. Harry recognized the face of Cornelius Fudge, current Minister of Magic. Several seats away sat a younger version of Professor Dumbledore, and next to Dumbledore was grizzled looking man with a barrel chest. As Harry watched, the man took a quick nip from a flask that he carried at his hip.
At the head table sat a gaunt man with dark hair and a thick moustache. He had a severe face and sat with ramrod straight posture. His nameplate revealed his name to be Bartemius Crouch.
Crouch spoke. "Bring in the prisoner."
"Who is that?" asked Harry, pointing to Mr. Crouch.
"Mr. Crouch was the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the time of this memory," Dumbledore said. "Watch closely, now."
The doors to the chamber opened, and a wizard was led into the chamber in shackles. He wore ragged gray prison robes and his long blonde hair hung in clumps, obscuring his face. There was no doubt, however, that the prisoner was Lucius Malfoy.
Lucius was forced into a chair in the center of the room, facing the head table.
Crouch spoke again. His tone was brusque. "Lucius Malfoy, You have been called to give testimony today regarding the Dark Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. You may begin."
Lucius seemed surprised. "What… what do you wish to know?"
"Everything. You may begin."
Lucius took a deep breath. "I was placed under the Imperius Curse-"
"By whom?" asked Crouch.
"Lestrange. Rudolphus Lestrange," said Lucius. "Lestrange forced me to commit crimes for the Death Eaters. Initially, it was petty crimes. Muggle baiting and that sort."
"Dates. Times. Locations."
"I don't know. It wasn't just one time or place. Under the curse, things tended to blur together."
Crouch frowned. "Continue."
"Once the Death Eaters were certain that they could control me, they would use me as a buffer. First contact. If they wished to attack a wizard's home, they would send me in first. If they wished to threaten a shopkeeper, they would use my voice. If there was any chance of being caught, I was at the forefront."
"Dates. Times. Locations."
"The worst… what I remember the most… was late December, 1980. I had been under the curse for almost three weeks, when suddenly I was myself again. I was alone in a room, surrounded by men in masks. They showed me a memory, and in the memory, I was casting Crucio upon Somulus Biggers, in the basement of Slug and Biggers Apothecary. I could barely remember what I had done under the Imperius curse, but I knew the memory was true. They forced me to cast the spell over and over, and they forced me to laugh while I did so." Lucius sighed heavily. "The Death Eaters told me that they needed assets. Money to finance their cause. They threatened to make the memory public if I didn't comply."
"What did you do?" Crouch asked.
"I agreed. My son had just been born. I had no choice. I laundered money through my businesses holdings to hide their finances. I can provide a written list of transactions if you give me access to the ledgers…"
"A supervised review of your accounts will be provided," Crouch said, making a note on the parchment in front of him. "Continue."
"They used the money to finance their campaign. They forced me to attend their meetings."
"How did they contact you?"
Lucius hung his head. "I…took the Dark Mark. They used it to summon me."
Several members of the Wizengamot gasped. Mr. Crouch nodded and made a note on his parchment.
"What's the Dark Mark?" Harry asked Dumbledore.
"A symbol of the Death Eaters," Dumbledore said. "Voldemort branded his followers."
Crouch continued his inquiry of Lucius Malfoy, but Lucius had little to offer—he said that the Death Eaters he met were always masked, and that they did not reveal their identities. Crouch didn't seem to believe him, and quickly became aggressive in his questioning. Mr. Malfoy hung his head lower and lower, allowing his blond hair to hide his face.
"Here, now," said a voice from the crowd. Cornelius Fudge stood and spoke. "Mr. Malfoy is a not a criminal."
"That remains to be seen," snapped Crouch.
"Mr. Malfoy contacted the Ministry and willingly offered his testimony before this august body to give testimony regarding his harrowing experience," Fudge said. "His testimony is the same as his sworn statements, and those statements were thoroughly investigated by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement prior to today's hearings. Nothing was discovered to contradict Mr. Malfoy's testimony."
"Nor was anything discovered to confirm his testimony," Crouch snapped.
"In England, we are innocent until proven guilty, and that guilt must be proved beyond all reasonable doubt," Fudge said. "Yet Mr. Malfoy sits here today, not even accused of a crime. Indeed, it appears that he was a victim of the Death Eaters. Will you make him a victim again?" Fudge's speech was clearly pre-written. Harry could see that Fudge had expected this moment to come, and had always intended to come to Mr. Malfoy's defense.
"He fabricated this alibi specifically because it couldn't be refuted!" Crouch was trembling with anger, his composure completely lost.
"While I respect your zeal, Mr. Crouch, I believe that your perception of Mr. Malfoy has been distorted by recent events," Fudge replied.
"That… that is absolutely irrelevant here."
"What does that mean?" Harry asked Dumbledore. The Headmaster shook his head silently, directing Harry's attention back to Fudge.
"I think recent events are perfectly relevant," Fudge was saying. "You failed to recognize the wolf at the door, and we all paid for your mistake. Now, however, you are jumping at shadows in the night. It is evident that your ability to discern between legitimate threats and wild speculation has been significantly impaired." Crouch began to stammer, but Fudge spoke over Crouch with a strong, clear voice. "Because this is not the proper hearing for a vote of no confidence, I will simply move that the Wizangamot close the matter of Mr. Malfoy's testimony and order his immediate release from custody."
"Now, watch carefully, Harry," said Dumbledore.
As the Wizangamot voted on Fudge's motion, Harry kept his attention on Mr. Malfoy. The votes were tallied quickly, and Fudge read the results aloud.
"By a vote of sixty-four 'aye' and twenty-one 'nay,' the motion passes."
A smile flitted across Mr. Malfoy's face, and was quickly replaced by a look of shocked relief.
"What was that, sir?" Harry asked Dumbledore. The expression on Mr. Malfoy's face had been… frightening. There was no joy in the expression, and certainly no surprise. The way Mr. Malfoy's lip had curled upward, revealing his teeth… it was a cruel smile, a smile of feral vindication.
"It is what we came to see," said Dumbledore. "This memory holds nothing else for us." Dumbledore grabbed Harry's arm, and Harry was suddenly swept upward and out of the memory.
A/N: As always, thanks so much to my reviewers. This has been one of my best weeks ever, in terms of readership, but one reader who reviews regularly means more than a hundred people who just flit through on a lark.
Next week is the big conclusion for Harry Potter and the Dementors of Azkaban. Two weeks from now, I will begin posting Book Four. Now's the time to throw me into your Author Alert, so you'll know when the transition hits!
Finally, if you aren't reading Love in a Time of the Zombie Apocalypse by Rizzle, you are missing out. Give it a read, give it a review. Tell her I sent you.