From the playlist:

This Charming Man - The Smiths

Loose Garment - MUNA

Night Shift - Lucy Dacus

Anything But Me - MUNA

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Ch. 18 - The Ceasefire

Sunday

He didn't know that guilt could make a person nauseous.

Writing to her had been one thing. The thought of having to look into her eyes again like he gave her his word he would was interacting with his breakfast. He didn't want to back out of the meeting, but he also didn't want to be sick in Emmeline's front room, and by two thirty, the nausea had taken a turn for the worse.

It was high time he paid a visit to someone he hadn't seen since his return to the castle.

He strode past the set of double doors and knocked at an adjacent office. A witch with kind eyes that betrayed her sternness answered.

"Hello, Poppy."

"That's still Madam Pomfrey to you, Mister Lupin."

Remus grinned.

"I was wondering if-"

"You look ragged . "

Remus grinned wider.

"Yes, well. I haven't had a Madam Pomfrey since 1978."

"Well, you do now." She latched onto his shoulder and yanked him into the office.

"Oh, actually-"

"Open your mouth," she directed, grabbing his jaw and shining her wand in his face.

"I was just coming to-"

"Say 'ah.'"

"-ahquah ahah-"

"Ahhhh,"

"ahhah uh ahah."

She retracted her wand. "What?"

Remus took a moment to unlock his pesky jaw. "I was coming to inquire about something for nausea."

"By the looks of it, you'll be needing more than an anti-vomiting potion."

"You're probably right, but I'm about to head off to a meeting."

Madam Pomfrey squinted at him. "Oh, very well." Piddling to a tall cabinet, she began rummaging through the shelves to the tune of several little glass bottles clinking. "I hear you gave Potter some chocolate after he faced that dementor."

"I did."

He could see her smiling to herself as she sorted through the potions. "It's nice to know we've finally got a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who knows what he's doing."

"To be perfectly transparent, I was given a bit of warning. Otherwise I wouldn't have known to bring the chocolate in the first place."

"Well, in any case, we're fortunate to have you."

He loved the woman. "That's very kind."

"It's not kind, Mister Lupin. It's the truth." She pulled a phial of thick, yellow-ish liquid out of the cabinet, uncorked it, and handed it off to him. "And you're fortunate to have me."

"I agree."

"You're positively peaky."

"I completely agree."

"When you're not pressed for time, come back for a proper check up, will you?"

"Yes, ma'am." Remus tipped back the potion, which tasted pleasantly sort of lemony, then handed back the phial. "...Do you happen to have any Dreamless Sleep on hand-?"

"What's wrong with your sleep? How many hours are you averaging-?"

"D'you know what? I'll come back another time," he pledged, opening the door for himself. Best to get out before she sniffed out everything else that was wrong with him. "Thank you very much."

"One more thing, Lupin. Look alive," she warned - before tossing him a smaller phial containing an opaque red liquid.

Remus caught the phial and turned it in his fingers until he got to the label.

BREATH FRESHENING TINCTURE

Panicking a little, he lifted his hand to his mouth. "Merlin, is it bad?"

"No, no. But you're rushing off to 'a meeting' that's making you nauseous. Best to be safe."

"...I'm not sure I underst-"

"Enjoy your date, Mister Lupin."

"Oh- no, it's not a-"

She shut the door on him.

Remus stared at the phial for a moment.

There was no reason-…It wasn't as if he would need-…

But he uncorked it and threw it back anyway.

…

Emmeline was waiting for him as he stepped out from the green flames, wearing her emerald shawl, and standing up so straight, it exhausted him just to look at her.

"Hi," was all that came out of his mouth. He hoped the penitent look in his eye conveyed more.

"Hello," she replied stiffly, lifting her shoulders even further somehow. "Thank you for coming."

"Yes, thank you again for your letter, and erm," he cleared his throat, suddenly aware of how hoarse his voice had become after just three days of classes. "And the gifts. The book is lovely."

"You probably already had a copy."

"I didn't, actually. It was perfect."

"…I'm glad."

Remus knew better than to tell a woman she looked tired, but the next thing he noticed was how tired Emmeline looked underneath the militaristic posture. Her hair was a bit flat, which was unusual, and the skin under her eyes was begging for a rest. Conversely, he watched her notice the cane, and subsequently hold her tongue.

"...Remus, I'd just like to reiterate my apology-"

"You don't owe me one."

"Please, just-…I do. The way I went about it wasn't fair." Her eyes rounded, only a little. "I'm sorry. "

"...I do think it was probably…good…for you to get to shout at me a bit," he absolved her. "I expect we wouldn't have been able to proceed until we'd gotten that out of the way."

"That doesn't make it right."

"…Can you ever forgive me for those horrid things that came out of my mouth?" he asked softly; ashamedly; and looking right in her eyes.

"…I know why you said those things."

"That doesn't make it right."

"…I think, perhaps, we should just start over."

Some knots inside of him that had been leftover from their fight came undone.

Trying not to look as delighted as he felt, he stepped forward and stuck out his hand.

"Emmeline, it's lovely to see you. You look well."

She reciprocated with a firm, collegial grip, and only a sensible amount of a smile.

"I think the grays suit you."

He wasn't really a fan of the way the handshake made all those newly untied knots flutter.

"This is already off to a much better start," he evaluated. "I have high hopes we'll manage to make it through tea this time."

"Actually, I thought we could go for a pint."

The suggestion left him profoundly confused. Pints were for congenial old mates, not cautious old flames that had burned each other. "…You said we had to be discreet."

"I can assure you, Amelia Bones doesn't frequent my local pub," she reasoned. Then, she gave up the real reason. "… I thought a neutral environment would be better."

Translation: we won't start screaming at each other if we're in public.

"...Yeah, alright," he agreed. "A pint sounds nice."

…

The fact that her local pub was called The Duke of Wellington was a bit funny to him. Their spat had been nowhere near the scale of Waterloo, but for Remus, this might as well have been the Treaty of Paris.

Somewhere along the two blocks they walked, he realized that he wasn't actually speaking with Emmeline; not his Emmeline, anyway. Or…you know, the Emmeline he remembered. She'd given him a chance for that, but he'd lost his privilege. He was getting his do-over; but with the Auror. Strictly professional, strictly business, and strictly off-limits in any capacity other than matters pertaining to the case. He'd picked up on it in the letters, but hoped their in-person meeting would give her away.

She wasn't giving anything away.

The pub looked like every other pub. Emmeline didn't ask which kind of beer he wanted before going up to the bar. She didn't have to. He let her order the two pints, but his offer to pay for them was met with a steely "no." They settled into a corner booth, and even though the company was sparse, she peeked her wand out from her inside jacket pocket to take appropriate precautions.

"Muffliato."

Now they were assured privacy. Emmeline handed him his stout, then got right to business.

"We know that Black's headed north to Hogwarts," she began in a voice that Remus wasn't used to hearing. "I've got a rotation of people from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad patrolling some of the major cities between here and the school, and a few Aurors stationed in Hogsmeade since it's the closest village; though I hope he won't get the chance to make it that far. Of course, if he's bushwhacking off the roads, which he very well might be, that complicates things - but it would also buy us more time." She took a sip of her ale, opened her briefcase, then laid out a map and a beat-up notebook on the table. "If he isn't, I'd presume he would take the direct route." She trailed her finger along the map, and as if she'd taken a quill to it, a red line appeared to delineate what she was pointing to. "Up through Manchester, then Glasgow, then the West Highlands."

"...I wouldn't assume that," Remus disagreed, scanning the map for himself. "The direct route is also the most obvious one."

"You mean…You think he'll go through Edinburgh?" The red line on the page shifted over to the right.

"I think Sirius would love nothing more than to outsmart the Ministry," he asserted. The years wouldn't have changed that ego, and the prison break would've only emboldened it.

"Going east would add weeks to his trip if he's on foot," she countered, assessing the alternate route. "I'm not sure he possesses the patience for that kind of delay."

"It's not about patience, it's about practicality. He can't see his task through if he gets captured again."

"People who are in Azkaban for as long as he was usually don't have the capacity to consider practicality anymore."

"Maybe not; but if he went through the trouble of escaping in the first place and swimming across the North Sea, we can at least infer that he's determined." With a careful finger, Remus traced the map, summoning more red lines. "And if he doesn't take the direct route, that opens up several other possibilities, I'm afraid. Not just through Leeds and Edinburgh; who's to say he won't cross over around Yorkshire, or Northumberland? Or, vice versa?"

Emmeline scrutinized the places he'd pointed out, then shook her head a little. "...If it were me, and I needed to end up to the west eventually, I would head that direction before I went so far north that it required me to cross an additional mountain range with winter on the way." She waved her hand over the map, and all of the red lines vanished.

"...You're right…Yes, you're right, I hadn't thought of that…" Remus took into account all the green bits in between. "I wouldn't rule out bushwhacking, though. He isn't afraid to get dirty."

"Exactly. That was my thinking as well." Emmeline started scribbling in her notebook, glancing back and forth between her page and the map. "But I don't have the manpower to canvas all the different possibilities. I need to stay ahead of him and determine what his next move will be."

"...Then we'll just have to make an educated guess." Remus deduced. "Where do you estimate he might be now?"

"There haven't been any recent sightings, but based on calculations, Shacklebolt assumed he was headed towards Birmingham. We've got a team of Aurors on the ground there now."

"Alright, let's say he isn't bushwhacking, because he needs to eat, and let's say he's around Birmingham…" Remus placed his index down on the map, trying to think like Sirius. "...Here," he pointed, and a red line connected the two places. "If he's trying not to be spotted, I reckon he'd go for this route between Liverpool and Manchester through Warrington, avoiding the big cities if he can."

Scooting closer, Emmeline leaned over the map. "That, or Sheffield." The line split in two.

"Yes. If he went by way of Birmingham, I imagine he'll go through Warrington, or Sheffield, like you said. I would concentrate your people between those two points. If you catch him there, you won't have to worry about Glasgow or Edinburgh."

"Or we'll have at least bottle-necked him to take the obvious route."

"Right."

She took down some more notes. "This was helpful."

Remus got back to his stout, but watched her closely. "I'm happy to help."

"More helpful than the meetings I've had with Scrimgeour," she added while she scribbled. "He's treating me like I've spat in his porridge."

"I know the feeling."

She didn't bite for that one. "I'll have to relay this back to Mad-Eye."

"Have you brought him on?"

"Off the record. I can't enlist his help in any official capacity, but it would be foolish not to consult him."

"Right."

"So going forward, I'll keep you informed on how this progresses on my end, if you can keep me in the loop about the happenings on the home front."

"I can. I will."

And thus the plan was formulated.

She finally shut that notebook, but not to offer her focus to Remus. The map had stolen it again. Her gaze remained fixed upon it as if she were in a trance.

"...Are you doing alright?" he attempted.

"I'm fine," she said pleasantly, never having looked up at him.

But her eyes were tired and her hair was flat, and Remus didn't like that the Auror had his Emmeline walled off. Not his Emmeline, but the Emmeline he was used to. Used to be used to. As she folded up the map, it seemed that their business had concluded for the day, except they hadn't yet finished their pints. So now what?

Shockingly, it was Emmeline who broke the silence. "Things going well at school?"

But if she was truly wondering, she didn't show it. The question seemed more of a polite formality than anything. Her eyes were still eluding his, and her fingers were drumming the notebook, itching to get back to work.

However, things were going well at school, and his smile must've told her so. "So far, so good."

"My God, look at you. You love it," she assessed.

"Honestly, it's the first thing I've ever felt half decent at," he shared with more transparency than he probably should have.

It was truly a miracle that the past week had gone so well. He'd been careful not to let himself get overly-confident, but he was also acutely aware of how strange and unusual success felt. The summer prep had put him in a good spot, but as someone who had been both introverted and self-conscious his entire life, the fact that he felt so comfortable in front of a classroom had surprised him.

"I'm glad you're happy there," said Emmeline - again, a formality.

"…And are you?" he endeavored.

"Am I what?"

"…Happy?"

Just because her life had looked nice on the outside didn't mean she was.

Emmeline's lips primmed up and she hesitated, perhaps deciding whether or not this was within the Auror's jurisdiction to answer.

"...I will be. Once Black is no longer a threat."

He didn't press the matter.

"How's Harry?" she wondered. The most genuine question of the afternoon.

"I've only had one class with him, but he seems well, I think."

That response had told her too much, and Emmeline's tired eyes narrowed by about a millimeter.

"…You haven't spoken to him?"

"I have. On the train, and then in class-"

"I don't mean spoken to him, I mean spoken to him."

Remus swallowed. The words festering under his tongue made his mouth feel putrid. "There hasn't been much of an opportunity for that…"

Oh, that did it. Emmeline leaned back in her seat, and he could practically see the Auror holding her back by the shoulders. Anyway, he knew what she'd say about it if she weren't so goddamn walled off.

"…I see."

And it would've been far more profane.

"Has Lucy written to you?" he inquired, changing the subject too quickly for his brain to properly vet what he should change it to.

"Yes."

"Is she enjoying herself?" But Emmeline hesitated again, and Remus, realizing his lapse in judgment, backpedaled. "That's really none of my business, is it-?"

"You don't have to do this."

"I'm sorry." He couldn't think of a better response.

Emmeline leaned forward again, clasping her hands together on the table. "Remus, unless there are…academic matters we need to discuss, I think I would prefer it if we kept her out of the conversation from now on."

"...Of course," he agreed mildly.

He'd been the one who told her he didn't want to know. He didn't want to know.

He got the rest of his pint down much quicker after that. Emmeline didn't even finish hers.

Their walk about to the house was just as awkward. The only subject she would give more than one word responses to was his new position.

"There's a door that appears in the office to access the living quarters."

"I didn't know that."

"I didn't either. They only appear to the staff. I thought the teachers went home to sleep until I saw Dumbledore in a nightcap second year."

"How are the accommodations?"

"Lovely."

"Comfortable?"

"Very."

"Good."

"And with the potion, I imagine I won't have to worry about-..." He noticed that Emmeline had stopped walking beside him.

"What potion?" she asked, almost accusatory.

Right. I suppose I didn't mention that.

"...Dumbledore is supplying the Wolfsbane potion while I'm at school."

"How?"

"Snape's brewing it."

The Auror's facade seemed to fracture a little.

"…I guess I should have realized-…" Emmeline muttered. "...I'm thrilled for you. Really, that's…"

"...I should've said something earlier."

"You didn't owe me the information," she told him as she passed to let herself inside.

There could've been several reasons why that had struck a nerve. In any case, this whole thing had been incredibly uncomfortable. Remus followed hesitantly and shut the door behind them.

Emmeline was waiting next to the hearth to see him off, a pretty clear cue for him to scram. "Thank you for your time," she announced, as if he were a door-to-door solicitor she was trying to get out of her house.

"Thank you for the pint," he said earnestly.

"As I mentioned, I will keep you informed."

"And I'll do the same." He approached the fireplace and reached for a handful of Floo powder on the mantle; but before he deployed it, he turned to her. "...Emmeline?"

But it wasn't really Emmeline that stared back at him. Not his Emmeline.

"…Thank you for giving me another chance."

"…Don't make me regret it."

That had been his Emmeline. One flicker of vulnerability that had somehow squeezed through the crack in the wall. It was gone from her eyes in an instant.

Remus swallowed, nodded, and left. As soon as he'd crossed back into his office, he turned and stared back at the hearth.

What the hell was that?