Chapter Seven.
Lyall's Confession.
"Dad?! Oh Merlin! Dad! What's happened to you?" Remus cried out dropping the school book he was quietly reading at the table and quickly lunging toward the front door.
Lyall Lupin staggered through the doorway panting with streaks of bright red dripping down across the right side of his face. His eyes looked dazed and his thoughts thoughts elsewhere.
Remus had steadily grown taller as the years crawled by but he was not quite shoulder to shoulder with his father in height yet. He encircled one arm around his Dad's wobbly waist and threw another arm over his shoulder to give him some support the best he could.
Lyall's other hand loosened its grip on his muddied and wet broom stick in the other hand and it toppled onto the floor. Remus carefully led his father to the couch and eased him down into a reclined position. Lyall was still breathing heavily and he exhaled, "Thanks."
Remus sat next to him and began gently examining both sides of his fathers head trying to address his injuries and the source of the blood. He found a a couple linear wounds along his graying hairline above his right ear. With a concerned expression he asked,
"Do I need to take you to Saint Mun-"
"No!" Lyall cut him off sharply holding up a dirty palm.
Lyall sighed and continued in a less harsh tone,
"I'm fine. It's not that bad. They've... they've been good to us there in the past, Remus, but I despise the place and would rather avoid it at all costs if we possibly can. We can manage it here at home."
Remus quietly nodded in agreement. He replied, "I'll go fetch some bandages, warm water and dittany... the usual post full moon things from our kit, but now it's your turn this time not me."
He looked down at his fathers wand in his belt loop and took the liberty to slide it out. Lyall frowned at him and raised a bruised eyebrow in confusion.
"May I? It'll be quicker," Remus politely asked.
Lyall nodded silently in consent and Remus left with the wand in hand to go fetch the items to assist him.
Walking swiftly by the kitchen stove, Remus pointed Lyall's wand at the burner beneath the water kettle and commanded, "Incendio". Small flames ignited and began warming the water.
Then he rushed to the top of the stairs to the basement and muttered, "Accio first aid kit." A dark metal box floated up the stairs to Remus and with one swoop of his hand he nabbed it in midair.
Hope was gone that night. She was on a two day trip near Cardiff to visit her mother who was ill. Remus had wanted to go with her to see the Howell side of the family since they didn't get to see them very often but Hope had expressed she preferred to go alone this trip.
Remus exhaled a sigh of relief that he was now home to help his father instead with whatever wild events had just transpired. He had watched both his mother and father treat his own wounds numerous times after full moons over the years, in a strange way it felt fulfilling to have the roles reversed for a change.
He gathered up the hot water kettle, a bowl, clean wash cloths and the first aid kit and hurried back to his Dad still laying right where he had left him on the couch. Respectfully, he slipped the wand back in his fathers belt loop. Lyall blinked heavily and had a troubled distant expression.
Remus worked fast to wash and clean off the mess of blood off Lyall head. He focused carefully on the cuts above his right ear and applied dittany. After a while, his father slid out his wand for himself this time and said,
"Here. Allow me."
Lyall tapped his wand on his head and muttered, "Ferula."
Bandages conjured out of thin air and wrapped themselves around the wound on Lyall's head. Remus's eyes flicked down to the first aid box. He gave his father a sardonic grin and said,
"You know, Dad, that one might be helpful to teach someone like me one of these days."
The corners of Lyall's mouth raised upward in amusement and for the first time since he had arrived home his eyes looked more present with Remus.
Lyall replied, "Quite right," as Remus helped ease him out of his wet mackintosh and then hung the dripping raincoat on the hook by the door.
Remus noticed the broom stick haphazardly fallen on the floor and he whispered, "Up." The broomstick obeyed his command and immediately zipped up into his grasp.
He sniffed and noticed there was a particularly strange putrid odor. He continued sniffing and turned his head turning back to the Mackintosh dripping on the hook and then back to the broomstick curious about the source of the rotten stench.
"Scourgify!" Lyall shouted from the couch waving his wand at both the coat hook and the broom stick. Remus watched the mud magically disappear and then he slipped the broomstick into the nearby closet putting it back in its usual spot.
On his way back to the couch, Remus picked up a folded up knitted blanket lying over the back of a chair and then proceeded to cover his father with it.
As he was tucking the soft blanket around his fathers arms, Lyall held up his left hand in front of his face and Remus suddenly winced at the sight.
Lyall's last two fingers were both hanging unnaturally backwards. He father tapped the two fingers with his wand and said, "Episkey."
There was a unsettling cracking noise, Lyall clenched his teeth, and the two contorted fingered suddenly straitened out into their normal position. He flexed the fingers and then relaxed his hand down onto the blanket tucked cozily around him.
"What happened?" Remus pressed him again sitting down next to the couch.
His father frowned and shook his head in dismay. He flicked his wand toward the cellarette that stood against a wall in their living room and said, "Accio fire whisky."
The walnut cabinet door swung open, a shot glass and whiskey bottle flew out of the shelf toward the couch. Remus grabbed the shot glass and Lyall caught the whiskey bottle. Remus then kindly held the small glass for his Dad while he poured the potent liquid in for himself.
"It's been... quite a day," he declared after taking a sip. He continued,
"The Ministry... it's a mess... such chaos, such confusion and fear. There's been too much division and strife over the pure bloods verses the Muggle born.
We've had a change recently in the Minister of Magic. Nobby Leach resigned and Eugenia Jenkins took the over the position. Although, whether or not Leach resigned is debatable...I do believe there was some dodgy, dark business surrounding Leach's recent death, especially after all the ruckus made about him being the first Muggle-born Minister of Magic.
But that Jenkins, though, I can't put my wand on it, things not getting any better... worse rather. The darkness is rising and Muggles are continuing to disappear. I, I saw and fought against one of the most disturbing dark creatures today, Remus."
Remus paused from biting at a fingernail while listening to his father and guessed,
"A dementor?"
Lyall took another big gulp of the fire whiskey and shook his head.
"No, no. Those are only around Azkaban. I encountered an Inferius. A dead body bewitched to do a Dark wizard's bidding."
Remus eyes widened in fright and he asked,
"You mean like a zombie?"
Lyall sipped his glass again, swallowed and replied,
"No. An inferius and a zombie have much in common but are not the same thing. Zombies do not reside in our country. But Inferi are created worldwide through the magical branch of Dark Arts called Necromancy, which is the art of raising the dead. It's a gruesomely macabre, horrid business.
The spells used to reanimate the corpse are complex. I haven't heard of them being used since Gellert Grindelwald rose an army of them... but that was decades ago. It troubles me greatly they are showing up once again. It's a bad sign, Remus."
"How does one fight an inferius?" Remus asked thoughtfully.
"Well, I did a lousy job at the start myself. It could of easily cost me my life. I'd completely forgotten the foul things can't feel any pain and I took the wrong approach. It could of done me in with its great strength... snapped my fingers and took a swipe at my noggin. They don't like light or heat, so fire is the best defense. The firestorm spell is a tricky one. But I finally managed to cast it," Lyall explained.
Remus looked up at the bandages around his fathers head. He slowly laid his hand over his Dad's hand that was not holding the glass of fire whiskey.
"I'm glad you're alright," Remus told him softly.
Lyall looked into his son's worried eyes and sighed.
"Remus, I really shouldn't be telling you all this... it's official ministry business."
Remus's face changed to a mischievous smirk, he rolled his eyes and teased,
"Yeah...I'll try not to let it slip to all my mates, Dad."
Instead of an expected laugh from his father, Lyall was silent, his eyes grew woeful and began to well up with tears. Remus suddenly regretted his comment and his heart sunk at his fathers reaction.
"I'm sorry," Remus said quickly and lowered his head in shame.
Lyall started to weep. Remus pulled a clean handkerchief out of his pocket and sheepishly handed it to him. Lyall took it and as he held it up to his eyes, he sobbed even harder.
"No... No need to apologize, Remus. It's me that's sorry. I'm sorry, son. I'm the one who should be saying it to you. It's all my fault. I'm sorry, Remus."
"Dad... it not all your fault."
"Yes! Yes it is, my fault. It's absolutely my fault. You never asked for this, you never deserved any of it, it, it should of been me, that was bitten, not you," Lyall spluttered out between sobs.
"Dad... stop. Don's say that. It's not your fault," Remus remarked trying to reassure him.
"You don't understand. Just listen. It was I that provoked him... Fenrir Greyback," Lyall said in agony.
Remus grew quiet and frowned in confusion. He looked down and lightly touched the surface of his right thigh.
"Who?" Remus asked.
"Fenrir Greyback...he's, he's the werewolf who bit you, Remus, I had just seen him... at the Ministry... before it happened and I, I, insulted him," Lyall said miserably.
Remus stared blankly at his father, willing him to go on.
Similar to a champagne bottle cork popping, Lyall rapidly poured out all the details of how his involvement treating Greyback so disdainfully at the Ministry and his thoughtless words led to him seeking revenge on his own son.
"I'll never forgive myself, Remus... Never...and I'll understand if you never do either... I'm so dreadfully sorry," Lyall said.
Lyall had set down his glass of fire whiskey and was now bawling into his hands in complete despair tucked up into a ball on one side of the couch.
Remus had never seen his father so beside himself wracked with grief. If he hadn't been in the room and just walked in, he would of believed his mother had died by the way Lyall was breaking down.
As he watched his father sobbing, Remus felt speechless and momentarily numb inside. He didn't any feel anger or bitterness toward his father as his father obviously had feared he would.
The news was somewhat of a shock to hear as Remus had always figured it was just some random werewolf that broke through his window and there was nothing more to the story.
But then there was a small part of him that wasn't entirely surprised. It made sense now. His fathers desperate attempts and relentless efforts to try anything and everything possible to cure him of his lycanthropy. All the times they had visited strangers far and wide... drinking foul tasting potions of promise or wand casts with odd spoken incantations. Then after the next full moon, waking up to the usual pain, blinking to see his fathers eyes looking back at him weighted heavily with extra guilt and disappointment.
Remus had this unexplainable gnawing sense deep within himself that he would be always be a werewolf no matter what and perhaps he had accepted it far earlier in his first decade of life than his father ever did.
He was just 'along for the exciting broomstick ride' or opportunity to make more fun memories with his Dad and Merlin knows, it was an opportunity to not feel like a prisoner bored and trapped in his own home.
After a few moments with the room only filled with Lyall's continuous cries of lament. Remus had not said anything in response yet only because he had needed a bit of time for his fathers words to sink in.
Remus got up off the floor and sat closer to his Dad still scrunched up on one side the couch. He reached out slowly and rested his hand gently on his fathers shoulder. He said earnestly,
"Dad, I'm glad you finally told me. It sounds like you've had that bottled up for too long."
Lyall raised his head out of his arms. His face was red, swollen and his eyes burned with shame.
Remus continued, "We all say things we regret sometimes and you had no way of knowing at the time I'd be bitten afterwards. I forgive you. You didn't know Greyback would do that to me. I don't want you to continue living with this unbearable burden of guilt upon your chest. Please. I forgive you."
His father shook his head in disbelief and said, "What? No. How could you possibly say that to me right away? No Remus. Don't you realize what I've done?
Son... I've condemned you to a horrible life of becoming a monster every month with no break or any kind of pause or reprieve ever. I've condemned you to zero chances of going to Hogwarts, no opportunities for good mates and a life of others treating you... like... like some bloody abomination."
Lyall broke out in pathetic sobs again and buried his head into his arms.
Remus said, "Dad. It is what it is now, and we'll sort things out. I'm not angry with you. I'm not, really. There's no use crying over spilt potion. How about I fix us a cuppa? Mum left us a chocolate pudding and I managed to resist eating all of it while you were gone today."
The knitted blanket had slipped off his Dad and Remus picked it up again and draped it over his shoulders. Without waiting for his Dad to respond, Remus left to go fetch the tea and dessert.