A/N: Lupin's Point-of-View
A/N #2: Including this piece, I have just under 30 chapters that I'll be releasing, once a week, on Tuesdays.
Remus sat in front of the fire at the Weasley's house, recovering from the full moon and his time in the pack. No matter what, he couldn't seem to fight the chill growing inside himself. It was Christmas day and he had left the pack that morning, the first moment he could get away. Any headway he had gained with the pack had been erased the moment Greyback had returned, his bloodlust heightened, rather than satisfied as Remus had hoped. It didn't help that the majority of wizarding and muggle children were home from the holidays. When Greyback had called for the hunt the previous night, Remus had stuck to the back of the pack, only allowing himself to come forward once the remains had been made unrecognizable. If Remus could refuse altogether, he would, but there was no refusing Greyback where the pack was involved.
He had been listening intermittently to Harry explain his latest theory on how Snape was evil and plotting with the Malfoy brat. Snape is evil, he went after her when he knew she was mine. A voice growled inside him. A malicious part of him hoped that Snape had been tortured or punished during the Dark Revel, the mere thought helped take some of Remus' inner edge off. As long as he isn't killed. If he dies, Dumbledore will try to make me the next primary spy, especially now that Greyback is being invited to Dark Revels.
"Pretending to offer help, so that he could find out what Malfoy's up to?" said Harry quickly. "Yeah, I thought you'd say that. But how do we know?"
"It isn't our business to know," said Remus finding himself speaking up when he had intended to stay silent. His response had come out as a slight growl and he turned away from the fire as he calmed his voice."It's Dumbledore's business. Dumbledore trusts Severus, and that ought to be good enough for all of us." Merlin knows that is the only thing he has going for him.
"But," said Harry, "just say — just say Dumbledores wrong about Snape —"
"People have said it, many times." I sure voiced it in the beginning, as did Sirius the moment he came back.Remus thought, the bitter sting of losing Sirius...again...still too sharp for him to dwell on for long. "It comes down to whether or not you trust Dumbledore's judgment. I do; therefore, I trust Severus."
"But Dumbledore can make mistakes," argued Harry. "He says it himself. And you" — he looked Lupin straight in the eye — "do you honestly like Snape?"
Remus had to bite his tongue to keep from growling at the younger wizard. I said trust, not like…barely tolerate is more like it, and even then I only trust when it comes to Dumbeldore and this spying business. Not with Dora. Never with Dora. "I neither like nor dislike Severus," he said smoothly, trying to mask his anger with reason. "No, Harry, I am speaking the truth," he added, as Harry pulled a skeptical expression. "We shall never be bosom friends, perhaps; after all that happened between James and Sirius and Severus, there is too much bitterness there. But I do not forget that during the year I taught at Hogwarts, Severus made the Wolfsbane Potion for me every month, made it perfectly, so that I did not have to suffer as I usually do at the full moon."
"But he 'accidentally' let it slip that you're a werewolf, so you had to leave!" said Harry angrily.
Remus hardly needed Harry listing Snape's wrongs against him. He chose to shrug in order to make his next words seem casual, even as he wanted to gag on them. "The news would have leaked out anyway. We both know he wanted my job, but he could have wreaked much worse damage on me by tampering with the potion. He kept me healthy. I must be grateful."
"Maybe he didn't dare mess with the potion with Dumbledore watching him!" said Harry.
Good point. Remus thought darkly, but the dark hate in Harry's eyes was too much, "You are determined to hate him, Harry," Remus said with a faint bitter smile. "And I understand; with James as your father, with Sirius as your godfather, you have inherited an old prejudice. By all means tell Dumbledore what you have told Arthur and me, but do not expect him to share your view of the matter; do not even expect him to be surprised by what you tell him. It might have been on Dumbledore's orders that Severus questioned Draco."
.. and now you've torn it quite apart I'll thank you to give back my heart!
Celestina, a famous wizarding singer, ended her song on the wireless with a very long, high-pitched note and loud applause, which Mrs. Weasley joined in with enthusiastically. Brokenhearted love songs and me defending Severus Snape…Merry Bloody Christmas.Remus cursed and downed his fire whiskey in one gulp.
"What have you been up to lately?" Harry asked, as Arthur bustled off to fetch the eggnog, and everybody else stretched and broke into conversation.
"Oh, I've been underground," said Remus. "Almost literally. That's why I haven't been able to write, Harry; sending letters to you would have been something of a giveaway."-
"What do you mean?" '
"I've been living among my fellows, my equals," said Remus said, snarling over the word "equals". "Werewolves," he added, at Harrys look of incomprehension. "Nearly all of them are on Voldemort's side. Dumbledore wanted a spy and here I was . . . ready-made." He sounded a little bitter, and perhaps realized it, for he smiled more warmly as he went on, "I am not complaining; it is necessary work and who can do it better than I? However, it has been difficult gaining their trust. I bear the unmistakable signs of having tried to live among wizards, you see, whereas they have shunned normal society and live on the margins, stealing — and sometimes killing — to eat." Remus tried to hold down the shudder as he remembered the torn bodies from the previous evening and fought not to think of what those families were going through tonight, a night that was supposed to be about family and celebration.
"How come they like Voldemort?"
"They think that, under his rule, they will have a better life, and it is hard to argue with Greyback out there. . . ."
"Who's Greyback?"
Remus almost coughed on his now refilled glass of fire wiskey, "You haven't heard of him?" his hands closed convulsively in his lap. "Fenrir Greyback is, perhaps, the most savage werewolf alive today. He regards it as his mission in life to bite and to contaminate as many people as possible; he wants to create enough were-wolves to overcome the wizards. Voldemort has promised him prey in return for his services. Greyback specializes in children. . . . Bite them young, he says, and raise them away from their parents, raise them to hate normal wizards. Voldemort has threatened to unleash him upon people's sons and daughters; it is a threat that usually produces good results." Remus flashed back to the moment he had been attacked, howls…eyes glowing in the bright light of the moon…Remus as a young boy, outside simply trying to find his mom's cat who had gotten out when he had briefly opened the door… "It was Greyback who bit me."
"What?" said Harry, astonished. "When — when you were a kid, you mean?"
"Yes. My father had offended him. I did not know, for a very long time, the identity of the
werewolf who had attacked me; I even felt pity for him, thinking that he had had no control, knowing by then how it felt to transform. But Greyback is not like that. At the full moon, he positions himself close to victims, ensuring that he is near enough to strike. He plans it all. And this is the man Voldemort is using to marshal the werewolves. I cannot pretend that my particular brand of reasoned argument is making much headway against Greyback's insistence that we werewolves deserve blood, that we ought to revenge ourselves on normal people."
"But you are normal!" said Harry fiercely. "You've just got a — a problem —"
Remus burst out laughing. "Sometimes you remind me a lot of James. He called it my 'furry little problem in company'. Many people were under the impression that I owned a badly behaved rabbit." He downed is second glass of fire whiskey and accepted a glass of eggnog from Arthur with a word of thanks, looking slightly more cheerful, Harry, meanwhile, felt a rush of excitement: This last mention of his father had reminded him that there was something he had been looking forward to asking Remus.
"Have you ever heard of someone called the Half-Blood Prince?"
"The Half-Blood what?" Remus drew his brows together, wondering what Harry was trying to come up with now. He is so like his father, always some knew plot, new adventure.
"Prince," said Harry, watching him closely for signs of recognition.
"There are no Wizarding princes," said Remus, now smiling. "Is this a title you're thinking of adopting?"Prongs, Padfoot, Moony, …Wormtail. Yes, very much like his father. "I should have thought being 'the Chosen One' would be enough."
"It's nothing to do with me!" said Harry indignantly. "The Half-Blood Prince is someone who used to go to Hogwarts, I've got his old Potions book. He wrote spells all over it, spells he invented. One of them was Levicorpus —"
"Oh, that one had a great vogue during my time at Hogwarts," said Remus reminiscently, enjoying the memory of seeing Severus held upside down, his worn grey underwear exposed to everyone. "There were a few months in my fifth year when you couldn't move for being hoisted into the air by your ankle."
"My dad used it," said Harry. "I saw him in the Pensieve, he used it on Snape."
Remus' smile deepened as he realized that Harry had seen that particular memory as well. How very melodramatic of you Severus, keeping the memory of such a childish prank locked away in a Pensieve.
"Yes," he said, "but he wasn't the only one. As I say, it was very popular. . . . You know how these spells come and go, . ."
"But it sounds like it was invented while you were at school," Harry persisted.
"Not necessarily," said Remus. "Jinxes go in and out of fashion like everything else."
He looked into Harry's face and then said quietly, "James was a pureblood, Harry, and I promise you, he never asked us to call him 'Prince.'" Remus snorted slightly at the last part.
Abandoning pretense, Harry said, "And it wasn't Sirius? Or you?"
"Definitely not." There were many things we would jokingly call Sirius, "Prince" was never one of them…not even close.
"Oh." Harry stared into the fire. "I just thought — well, he's helped me out a lot in Potions classes, the Prince has."
"How old is this book, Harry?"
"I dunno, I've never checked."
"Well, perhaps that will give you some clue as to when the Prince was at Hogwarts," Remus said, trying to help, sorry he couldn't be of more help, that the book wasn't from one of the three of them.
Just then, Molly came in and summoned them all into the dining room for Christmas dinner. Everyone was wearing new sweaters, everyone except Fleur. Whether she had refused to wear hers or Molly just simply hadn't bothered to waste the time making one, Remus wasn't sure. Fleur didn't look as if she minded in the slightest. Molly herself, was glowing in a brand-new midnight blue witch's hat glittering with what looked like tiny starlike diamonds, and a spectacular golden necklace.
Noticing Remus looking at the hat and necklace, Molly beamed "Fred and George gave them to me! Aren't they beautiful?"
"Well, we find we appreciate you more and more, Mum, now we're washing our own socks," said George, waving an airy hand. "Parsnips, Remus?" Remus accepted the serving bowl gratefully, surprised he had any appetite at all.
"Gravy, Fleur?" said Ron. In his eagerness to help her, he knocked the gravy boat flying; Bill waved his wand and the gravy soared up in the air and returned meekly to the boat.
"You are as bad as zat Tonks," said Fleur to Ron, when she had finished kissing Bill in thanks. Remus froze as he kept his head from shooting up at the mention of Tonks. "She is always knocking —"
"I invited dear Tonks to come along today," said Mrs. Weasley, setting down the carrots with unnecessary force and glaring at Fleur. "But she wouldn't come. Have you spoken to her lately, Remus?"
"Hmmm?...No, I haven't been in contact with anybody very much," said Remus, not wanting to really get into him visiting her on the Solstice or the reasons he had felt a need to see her and apologize before leaving to confront the pack. He was surprised that she had turned down Molly's invitation, however. She must be going home to visit her parents. He reasoned before causally responding, "But Tonks has got her own family to go to, hasn't she?"
"Hmmm," said Molly. "Maybe. I got the impression she was planning to spend
Christmas alone, actually," as she shot Remus a pointed look.
Remus felt his jaws clench tightly. Alone. If not with her family she better be alone. He thought and then immediately felt guilty for it. He couldn't believe that he actually wished that she was alone for the holidays. I should have invited her. I just couldn't be sure when I would get back or how I would feel. A twisted self-hating part of his mind pointed out that if he had returned earlier than planned, maybe so had Severus.
Harry spoke up, breaking Remus' train of thought, "Tonks's Patronus has changed its form," he told him. "Snape said so anyway. I didn't know that could happen. Why would your Patronus change?"
Remus took his time chewing his turkey and swallowing, afraid that if he didn't he would choke, before saying slowly, "Sometimes ... a great shock ... an emotional up-heaval ..." Something that creates a new, stronger happy memory than the one she had used to cast her patronus before…So help me if it has anything to do with him!
"It looked big, and it had four legs," said Harry.
Remus' eyes went wide. There was no way that something big with four legs had anything to do with Snape. If something like that has to do with anyone…
Harry looked at Remus with as shocked expression, before lowering his voice."Hey ... it couldn't be — ?"
Me? Remus thought and was trying to figure out a way to respond that didn't show the absolute sense of victory that was running through him when Molly let out a cry.
"Arthur!" said Mrs. Weasley suddenly. She had risen from her chair; her hand was pressed over her heart and she was staring out of the kitchen window. "Arthur — it's Percy!"
As the family left the room to greet the prodigal son, returned…with the Minister no less, Remus sat, too shocked to move. I am her new happy thought? Not Severus. I am her patronus? He thought in wonder, although he wished it wasn't the wolf in him she would summon every time she cast it. Small details.His mind argued. Mine. It announced, returning to a chorus he was beginning to become all too familiar with.