***I read a really hilarious reddit thread about bathrooms in the castle while I wrote this. They're never mentioned in the living quarters of the students OR teachers, but I'm going to assume that both had access to them privately. I know Hogwarts is a medieval castle, and according to JKR, before the invention of plumbing, wizards used to just SHIT THEIR PANTS (?￢ﾀﾍ ️), but I'm choosing to give Remus an easier time and giving him a bathroom in his living quarters. As a treat.

***dialogue completely in italics during the Gryffindor class is from Prisoner of Azkaban (book)

From the playlist:

Ashes on the Air - Reeder

The Boy with the Thorn in His Side - The Smiths

Age of Consent - New Order

Empty - The Cranberries

Should Have Known Better - Sufjan Stevens

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Ch. 17 - On Nightmares

Thursday

"JAMES! LILY!"

"Remus- They're gone! The Ministry's collected them by now- oh God, their bodies…"

The wind whistled through the splintering eaves.

"...Who did this?"

"...Sirius. It was Sirius…Please, please don't leave, I can't-"

"WHERE IS HE-?!"

The sound of his own screaming tore him from sleep, and he jolted off the mattress, panting.

Wiping his damp brow, he checked his watch. 7:28. He looked down at himself and remembered he'd fallen asleep in his robes, which he now realized he'd sweat through. Lovely.

The vivid nightmares had petered down to a pretty routine bimonthly occurrence by this point. Remus wasn't sure why, but it wasn't until about two or three years after 1981 that they began creeping in to steal his precious little sleep. At first, they haunted him every time he tried to shut his eyes; but their frequency had dwindled over the years. Sometimes the nightmares were a faithful adaptation of what he'd seen. Other times, his mind fabricated a version of the events that put him there with the Potters on the night of Halloween, but made him powerless to stop any of it.

He peeled his clothes from the previous day off his skin and showered, trying to rinse away the nightmare. God forbid his brain let him have two good days in a row. As he was drying off, he heard wings flapping back by the open window, and poked his head around the corner. Orpheus was back atop the wardrobe, and another letter had just touched down onto his desk. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he scuffed to retrieve it.

"The Owlery not to your liking anymore?" Remus remarked, picking up the envelope and peeling back the seal flap.

Orpheus gave a grumpy little hiss.

"That's alright." He unfolded the parchment. "If you prefer not to bunk with the whippersnappers, you're welcome to join a fellow old man in here."

Remus,

I'm following up on a meeting time for this weekend. I should have some availability on Sunday afternoon around three. Please let me know if this time will work for you, as there are some updates I'd like to discuss sooner rather than later. I am indeed connected to the Floo network.

Hoping your first week is going smoothly,

-E

He reached for his quill, then looked up at Orpheus, who'd already fallen asleep. He'd just been back and forth from London, after all.

"...Perhaps you deserve a break."

…

The bell signaling the end of lunch meant that the time had come for the students to meet that boggart. It also meant that Remus was going to have to see Harry again. The underside of his tongue tasted sour, and the pumpkin juice hadn't alleviated it.

He was already through the double doors by the time the bell sounded, with designs to check on the beastie in the wardrobe before the start of class. Hoping to beat the foot traffic, he headed for the staff room.

But as he passed the cloisters, he noticed a student sitting by themselves in the corridor, reading and finishing up a sandwich. Unfortunately, the head of bobbed hair had become very recognizable, and Remus stopped in his tracks.

Hearing the shuffling gait come to a halt, Lucy looked up, and shot to her feet. "Was I not supposed to eat here? I'm sorry-"

"No, you're allowed to eat there," Remus reassured her. But this begged another question. "Was there a particular reason you didn't want to have lunch in the Great Hall with everyone else?"

Lucy glanced down at her shoes again.

"...Lucy?"

"...It was noisy, and I wanted to read," she said after a moment.

Remus swallowed most of his other questions, and it still tasted sour going down. "What were you reading?"

Lifting her book, she showed him the cover. "Heidi."

"I haven't read that one. Is it good?"

"Yes, it's er…It's about a girl who gets homesick." She forced a smile.

Something in his chest felt like it was being squeezed.

Soon enough, clusters of other students were passing through the courtyard and rushing to get to their afternoon classes. Lucy reached into her pocket and unfolded her schedule. "I've got to head up to Charms," she informed him, slinging her rucksack over her shoulders. "See you later, Professor Lupin." She disappeared into the sea of black cloaks, leaving Remus anchored where he stood like a buoy in the waves.

The boggart.

He continued towards the staff room at a good clip, but was now having to weave through the throng of students. When he finally reached the door, he shuffled inside and leaned against the back of one of the chairs to catch his breath.

It's day two, and she's already electing to eat by herself. Why?

A great rattle from the wardrobe brought him back to his senses. Thankfully, it seemed there had been no reason for the boggart to move out overnight, so he could proceed with his lesson plan accordingly. Once he had that assurance, he shoved his questions even deeper and went back out into the cor-...the now empty corridor. How long had he been in there?

His detour had put him a few minutes behind schedule, and he walked into class a bit late to find that the third year Gryffindors had already taken out their books and quills. Striding to his desk, he set down his briefcase. "Good afternoon. Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands."

Unlike the other classes, the words "practical lesson" seemed to give a few of the students in this class cause for concern as they stashed their things away. For some reason, Neville Longbottom was touching his ears.

"Right then. If you'd follow me."

The students were mostly quiet as they ambled behind him through the corridors, even when they came around a corner and saw Peeves stuffing some chewing gum into a keyhole. He hadn't been there a moment ago. Remus had ample experience dealing with the poltergeist, so he wasn't too concerned - even as Peeves broke out into a teasing song.

"Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin," he chanted. If his memory was to be trusted, Peeves had come up with that little ditty when Remus became a prefect fifth year, and he'd tried to get him to stop taking the suits of armor for joyrides in the middle of the night.

"I'd take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves. Mr. Filch won't be able to get in to his brooms."

In response, Peeves blew a raspberry.

Suit yourself.

Sighing, Remus drew his wand. "This is a useful little spell," he mentioned to the class. Useful may have been an exaggeration, but perhaps they'd get a kick out of it. Peeves certainly wouldn't. "Please watch closely." Then, lifting his wand, he invoked the incantation: "Waddiwasi!"

The gum vacated the keyhole and swiftly made a new home for itself straight up Peeves's nose. The poltergeist whizzed away, swearing all the while.

"Cool, sir!"

"Thank you, Dean. Shall we proceed?"

The class seemed to be buzzing a bit more as they reached their destination.

"Inside please." Remus ushered the students into the staff room before entering himself, and as he turned the corner, he saw Snape sitting in one of the armchairs looking a bit more unpleasant than usual.

"Leave it open, Lupin," he petitioned as Remus moved to shut the door. "I'd rather not witness this." Gliding to the exit with those vampiric robes, he left them with these parting words: "Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear."

Remus raised his eyebrows. He could deal with Snape's vitriol when it was aimed at him, but that was one thing he would not abide; towards any of the students, but particularly not towards Neville. "I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation," he countered, "and I am sure he will perform it admirably."

Snape glared at him contemptuously as he slammed the door shut.

"Now then." Wishing to leave that moment behind them as soon as possible, he resumed immediately, and guided the students to the end of the chamber. He came up alongside the wardrobe, and was just about to open its mouth when it rattled again. This boggart had impeccable timing. "Nothing to worry about, There's a boggart in there," he explained, seeing a few of the students jump. "Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces. Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks - I once met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice. So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a boggart?"

Hermione Granger's hand shot up so fast, it lifted her heels off the ground a little. Remus nodded for her to proceed.

"It's a shape-shifter. It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," he commended her, hoping to attenuate the impact of Snape's scorn. "So the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears." Neville let out a whimper. "This means that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin," he tried to reassure him. "Have you spotted it, Harry?"

Harry had been staring at the wardrobe very intently. Despite the fact that she hadn't been called on, Hermione's hand shot up again, and Harry looked at her sideways as he delivered his answer.

"Er - because there are so many of us, it won't know what shape it should be?"

"Precisely."

Clever boy.

"It's always best to have company when you're dealing with a boggart," Remus continued. "He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a boggart make that very mistake - tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into a half slug. Not remotely frightening." But they didn't need to hear that story. "The charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape you find amusing. We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please." He took a deep breath and spoke from the base of his body. "Riddikulus!"

"Riddikulus!" the class repeated.

"Good. Very good. But that was the easy part, I'm afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Neville."

Neville looked like he was about to be sick; but Remus hoped, by the end, the ordeal would be worth it.

"Right, Neville. First thing's first: What would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?"

He wondered if Neville would name one of the Death Eaters that had attacked his parents, and prepared for such a response. He remembered poor Frank and Alice nearly lifeless in those cots, and Mrs. Longbottom's face when she came into the ward. Bellatrix Lestrange would've looked tremendously funny in a clown costume with a big red nose.

Neville muttered something, too softly for Remus to hear.

"Didn't catch that, Neville, sorry."

Glancing around at his classmates, he whispered his answer. "Professor Snape."

The class laughed in a way that wasn't meant to malign him, and even Neville smiled a little; but Remus wasn't amused. This boy had been through more than most of his classmates probably realized, and the fact that Snape outweighed other valid fears that Neville could have listed was not very funny to him.

And then Remus had a very, very naughty idea.

"Professor Snape…hmmm…"

Had Snape held his tongue, he might not have sprung for it; but given the circumstances:

"Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"

"Er - yes. But - I don't want the boggart to turn into her either."

"No, no, you misunderstand me. I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?"

"Well…always the same hat. A tall one with a stuffed vulture on top. And a long dress…green, normally…and sometimes a fox-fur scarf."

"And a handbag?" Remus recalled.

"A big red one."

This should be fun.

"Right then. Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville? Can you see them in your mind's eye?"

"Yes."

He could hear James as if he were right in his ear:

"Moony, do us a favor and put that slimy prick in a dress."

…

Saturday

Dear Emmeline,

Sunday at three should be fine. I promise not to show up several minutes early this time around. Perhaps just to be safe, I'll even aim to be five minutes late.

Am I allowed to say after just two days of classes that things are, in fact, going smoothly? I fear I may jinx it. No major blunders so far, and the students have been wonderful. It's nice being back here. Lots of fond memories.

Actually, you'd have gotten a kick out of the lesson I gave to the third year Gryffindors today. We've started with boggarts, and luckily, one had just moved into the wardrobe in the staff room, so that's where we held our class. I had Neville Longbottom face him first - I think Snape gave him a rough go of it in Potions this morning. Long story short, in a matter of minutes, we had that boggart looking like Severus clad in a lace trimmed dress with a big taxidermy hat. Unprofessional? Probably. Worth it? Oh, I think so. Neville did well, I was very proud of him. We got a bit excited and finished off the boggart though, so I've just spent my evening searching the castle for three more. I found two in the trophy room, and I think Rolanda mentioned she'd heard one rattling about in one of the quidditch lockers. Anyway, I thought you'd find that amusing.

I know things at the Ministry must be very hectic right now. I hope you're finding time to breathe.

See you Sunday,

Remus

Done with the business letter. Onto the pleasure letter.

Dear Mummy,

You were right! Hogwarts is amazing! I've been having so much fun, and I think I'll make plenty of great memories like you said.

The hat put me in Gryffindor. I like all the red in the common room, but I think I'll have to work on my bravery. You're the bravest person I know, so if I try to be like you, I think I'll be alright.

The castle is amazing, too. It makes me feel like I'm living in a fairytale. The ghosts were a little weird, though. I'm glad you warned me about them. One of the Hufflepuff girls cried the first day. But the food has been really good, and the beds are comfy. I like the library, and I really want to see the lake.

Professor Lupin's class and Professor McGonagall's class are my favorites. Professor Lupin taught me my first spell! I can do a Wand-Lighting charm now. Charms class was good, too. I liked Astronomy, but I was having trouble staying awake. I think I'll get used to it, though. I don't really like History of Magic so far. I was excited for Potions, but it was a little disappointing. The teacher isn't very nice. Herbology was okay. I think Flying lessons start next week, so I'm excited for that.

How's the Ministry? Are they still making you work a lot? I hope not. I wrote to Yunah, but I left out the stuff about magic. I just told her I didn't like my history and science classes. I hope she replies soon. I wrote to Daddy too, but I think you might need to explain some of this stuff to him. I miss you both so much, and I can't wait for your letters.

I love you more than the sun loves the moon,

Lucy

Emmeline dabbed her tears off the parchment, then read the letter about six more times before trudging to the bathroom sink and washing her face.

Lucy hadn't said anything about friends. Only teachers. And that wasn't good.

For months, she'd debated telling Lucy about Harry. Then she would have at least known one person at school. But when she thought about it from Harry's perspective, and pictured a girl two years younger tapping his shoulder in the Great Hall to inform him that "my mum said we should be friends because she was friends with your parents" out of the blue, she'd decided not to go through with it.

She sat down at her vanity and pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment, hoping she wouldn't stain this one.

My Dearest Lucy,

I am so proud of you for making it through your first week at Hogwarts. You're being such a brave girl, and Gryffindor house is lucky to have you.

I'm glad to hear that you're settling in nicely. How are your roommates? Are you staying up all night to braid each others' hair?

The food is very good, you're right. Please try to eat something green every once in a while. You don't have to worry about the ghosts. Many of them are very friendly, and even the not-friendly ones won't bother you.

Professor McGonagall is one of the best teachers you'll ever have. Learn everything you can from her in Transfiguration. I'm pleased to hear that you like Defense, Astronomy, and Charms, too. Herbology gets more exciting the longer you're in it. Unfortunately, History gets less exciting the longer you're in it. I've met the Potions teacher, and you're right, he isn't nice. Try your best to get your work done, and he shouldn't give you any trouble. If he does, let me know. Have you made any friends in any of your classes?

I can't wait for you to try flying. Who knows? You might love it so much, you decide to go out for the Quidditch team one day.

I am working a lot, but I'm alright. I just miss you. I'll be happy to explain all of this to Dad.

"Emmeline?" someone shouted from the doorstep outside.

The sound of the voice disoriented her, and she lifted her quill from the page. "…Max?"

She heard his key in the lock then the door open a crack. "Can I talk to you?"

Leaving the letter unfinished, she stalked out of her bedroom.

"Hey," he greeted her as she appeared on the landing. "Can I come in?"

"Did you just drive over?"

"Yeah."

"I kept the telephone for a reason-"

"No, I know; and I know you're busy, and I know I ought not to show up unannounced, but erm…" he trailed off, shifting his weight back and forth and looking ill at ease.

"What is it?"

"I need to ask you something."

Emmeline waved him in and descended the stairs, but when she reached the bottom step, she noticed him holding some of Lucy's stationary. As she connected the dots, her stomach dropped.

"Does Remus Lupin have siblings?" asked Max.

… Sssshit-

"…No."

"Cousins?"

"N-No…Max-"

"Did she write to you?"

"Yes, she did, but-"

"Emmeline." He held up the letter, a bit incredulous. "Please tell me 'Professor Lupin' is not who I think he is."

Shit.

She should have seen this coming and circumvented the problem long before now.

"…Remus is teaching at Hogwarts.".

Max cursed under his breath. "You told me he was gone for good."

"I thought he was…until he wasn't."

Then Max seemed to connect his own dots. "...You read the letter?"

"Just before you arrived."

He blinked. "...I expected you to be more-…" Then, his eyes widened. "Did you know about this?"

Shit!

"...Max-"

"Blimey Emmeline, a heads up might've been nice-!"

"You're right, I'm sorry. I've just been so swamped at work."

"This is a bit bigger than that excuse!"

"I don't know what you want me to tell you."

"I want you to tell me he's not going to find out."

She had royally and consummately fucked this up.

"Of course he isn't going to find out," she lied. "She has your last name, doesn't she?"

"What happens when she mentions who her mum is, and he puts two and two together?"

Oh, she could not have fucked this up worse if she'd tried.

Emmeline had to stuff the clues and coordinates crowding her headspace into the back corner of her mind in order to think straight. In her hesitation, Max walked past her and lowered himself onto the sofa in the front room.

"How do we pull her from the class?"

"We can't." She sat beside him. "There aren't multiple instructors per subject, and it's a required course."

"Oh my God," he whispered, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his knees. "This is…I mean, this is a nightmare."

"Listen," she started, getting his attention. "He's not going to find out. Even if she does mention me, and even if he does crunch some numbers - which he won't - there's no way to prove it." She could feel the tide of guilt pulling far out to sea, knowing it would return for her as a tsunami.

Max scratched his neck. "Do wizards have…I don't know, magic paternity tests?"

Emmeline clamped her lips shut, trying very hard to stop any laughter from breaching them.

"This is serious," Max admonished, making a concerted effort to swallow his own smile.

"You're right."

"Don't make fun of me."

"I wasn't going to."

"You were."

"...It's a little bit funny."

"It's a little bit funny," he sang back, a la Elton John.

"This feelin' inside," Emmeline joined him.

After a moment, Emmeline laid her hand upon his. "...She's your daughter, alright? I don't care what anyone says. You raised her. You were here. You're still here."

Max regarded her in a way that made Emmeline want to shake her heart by the shoulders. It never listened. "...I'm always going to be here," he murmured.

"...There's nothing to worry about," she assured him.

Nodding, Max patted her hand. "I er…I was so concerned about Lucy, I didn't think about-..." He studied her face. "…How are you?"

"I'm fine," she said simply.

But Max always had this perplexing x-ray vision when it came to her lies, and he wasn't buying it.

"…It was a bit of a shock, but I'll be alright," she elaborated. "...I truly am sorry I didn't tell you earlier. It's been a very odd few months."

"I bet…I'm sorry I shouted."

A smell hit her nose that made her eyes well up, almost without her realizing. Max smelled how Lucy smelled after her weeks with him - faintly like frozen waffles, and always like new furniture, even though it'd been six years. Her heart felt squeezed in her chest, and she leaned into his shoulder, wiping a tear.

"I really miss her…"

"I miss her, too. But it sounds like she's enjoying it."

"I'm worried she's not making friends."

"She's shy. Just give her time." He reached his arm around her. "…Emmeline, if you need anything, I'm there, alright? Anything."

Ugh. If only that fleshy, frustrating, fucker in her ribcage weren't so stubborn.

"Yeah."

They sat like that for a few minutes, and didn't speak about the matter anymore. But in the silence, the documents and directions began creeping out of their corner.

"I should get back to work," she finally said, unwinding herself from him. A gentle goodbye.

"Are they still killing you with all that pencil pushing?"

"Something like that."

Max stood and moseyed awkwardly towards the door. Emmeline knew it was always strange for him to leave this house. "You're sure he's not going to be a problem?"

"Positive."

"Alright, well…" He glanced at the door knob. "Just keep me posted from now on, okay?"

"I will."

"...Have you eaten?"

"About an hour ago," she lied.

"…It's just weird not seeing you, with the…since we're not passing her back and forth. I'm sorry I didn't call."

"I'm not."

His eyes snapped back up to her.

"No, it- er- I think that conversation was better had in person," she clarified, crushed by the way the hope died in his eyes.

"...Right."

"Max?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry, I really have to-"

"Right. I'm- yeah." He opened the door and made a swift exit. "See you later."

"See you…"

Max was her divine punishment for the sin of lingering on the if only. He'd been so willing to mend her broken parts, but she was far too particular about the stupid glue. Emmeline hated herself for it every day, and she suspected that would now be compounded with the tangled web of lies she was weaving herself into. A suicidal spider trying to outplay the tsunami.

She slogged back up the stairs.

She'd never anticipated Lucy mentioning Remus in the letters, but maybe she should've. Regardless, the fiasco could've easily been avoided if she'd just gotten her act together and gone to warn Max back in August. Given more time to think about it and prepare, she wasn't sure if she'd tell him that Remus knew, or that she'd broken her promise to herself and foolishly let the secret past her lips. It didn't matter that Remus wasn't interested. Actually, that probably would have made Max more upset.

The guilt was better than the alternative, she decided. Max would never have to know. It wasn't as if Remus was going to volunteer the information, and Lucy had no idea…

Poor Lucy, who looked and spoke and acted like Remus, had no idea who the man that had taught her her very first spell actually was.

Sitting down at her vanity with a sigh, she signed off on the letter.

I love you more than the distance between them,

Mummy

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***Emmeline, you IDIOT