Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban Timeline
"He Holds the Moon"
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"I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't do anything but think about him.
At night I dream of him, all day I wait to see him,
and when I do see him my heart turns over and I think I will faint with desire."
- The Other Boleyn Girl, Philippa Gregory
OF LOVE AND WOLVES
For three whole days, Nora hid under the covers of her bed. Every time her tears seemed to have stopped another wave of immense sadness crashed over her and she was crying all over again. She cried until she felt like her eyes had gone dry and her throat raw. The physical strain of it made her head pound viciously. Hunger didn't help, draining away most of her energy, making her weak to the point that even moving to the bathroom proved exhausting. Emma and Penelope would take turns bringing up plates of food after dinner and trying to convince her to have some, but it was pointless, she couldn't eat.
She couldn't sleep either, not properly. Her dreams were a kind of bittersweet torture. One minute she was back in that small, dark alcove, cradled in Lupin's gentle embrace, his face in her hand, his lips so close to meeting hers... and the next she was staring at his back, unable to reconcile the passion she had felt from him with the man who recoiled from her touch and called their friendship, all those wonderful, tender moments, a mistake. It was unbearable — the shame, the rejection… the gut-wrenching, heart-splitting realisation that she wasn't, nor would ever be, good enough.
Around the third day, Julia came into the room. She set a plate of sandwiches on the nightstand and, after taking off her shoes, slithered under the covers next to her.
"Did Liam send you up here?" Nora asked, rubbing the heel of her hand over her right eye, lacking even the strength to be embarrassed by her sweaty, grimy state. Even her voice came out rough and scratched.
"He's worried," said Julia gently. "We all are. Why won't you leave bed? Did something happen with Lupin? I heard he's not doing so well either…"
Hearing his name was like pouring salt over an open wound. Nora buried her face in her pillow to stifle a helpless sob. Slightly panicked, Julia fumbled her arms around her, drawing her close and rubbing circles over her quivering back. Once she had calmed down, her friend tried to figure out what happened, but Nora couldn't bear to express it into words, no matter how desperately she needed to pour her heart out and alleviate the heavy burden that had settled there. All she could really tell Julia was she felt like her heart was breaking.
That seemed explanation enough for Julia, who spent the rest of the day trying her hardest to give Nora the least bit of comfort. Those efforts were somewhat successful, Julia's presence did help restore some balance to her, and Nora managed a few bites off one sandwich while listening to her friend complain about Quidditch practice before her queasy stomach decided no more. Julia took the small victory, but made her promise to finish the rest later.
To keep her distracted, Julia told her about a rumour going around that Celia was going out with some fifth year girl from Hufflepuff.
"It's only rumour, though, isn't it?" Nora hugged her legs to her chest, lowering her cheek to her knees and studying Julia's forlorn form. "I doubt it's true, Celia hasn't dated anyone in a while. But there's always the chance she might, of course. Unless you ask her out first?"
"I'm working my way up to it," Julia muttered weakly.
"You've been working your way up to it for the last two years, Jules. Hell might freeze over before you actually get it done. What are you so afraid of?"
Sighing, Julia scooted down on the mattress and fell back against the pillows, arms crossed behind her head, stare set upon the beams on the ceiling. "How about looking like a pathetic sap because I can't string two bloody sentences together whenever I talk to her? Seems a pretty brilliant reason to me."
"Celia wouldn't see it like that." Nora brushed her fingers softly over the crease on Julia's forehead. "If she does, she's a fool. I think it's sweet that you get nervous, means you care about her."
"Never thought about it like that," Julia mused out loud, rolling her eyes up to meet Nora's with a smile. "Wasn't I supposed to be comforting you?"
Nora smiled a little too.
Hours later, long after Julia had left, she managed to drag herself into the shower. The jag of hot water increased her headache, but Nora felt steadier, purged of tears. As promised, she made an effort to eat a bit more before tucking back into bed and praying sleep wouldn't be plagued with nightmares or sweet, tortuous dreams.
The next morning Nora rose early.
While she was putting on her uniform, Emma woke up and found her standing in front of the mirror. They eyed each other for a moment before Emma hurled off the bed and threw her arms around Nora's neck. All forgotten, all forgiven.
Liam was waiting anxiously in the common room. He wasn't one for grand displays of affection like his sister, but the way his face lit up when he saw Nora more than made up for it. She bumped his shoulder as they headed out, mouthing a silent thanks when he glanced down at her. He shook his head, bumped her right back.
Her first class of the day was Transfiguration, which was good because Professor McGonagall liked to work her students hard and the work kept Nora's head occupied. Sadly, there was only so much distraction could do. As the minutes flew by, a cocktail of emotions began to brew inside her, a bubbling mixture of nerves and anxiety and, most of all, dread. The prospect of facing Lupin when everything was still so recent, when she was still so sliced open and vulnerable, was frankly terrifying.
"Miss Cavanaugh," Professor McGonagall called as Nora was putting away her things. Nervously, she shuffled over to McGonagall's desk and squirmed under the woman's penetrating stare. "I'm glad you're feeling better, but you're still quite pale. Have you gone to see Madam Pomfrey?"
"I will, ma'am. Later today."
McGonagall nodded, "Please do. Let me know if there's anything you need."
Nora uttered a quick "thanks", touched by McGonagall's concern, yet too embarrassed to say much else.
On the way to Defence Against the Dark Arts, she honestly thought she was going to be sick. Julia squeezed her hand for encouragement before walking off in the opposite direction. Without much of a choice, Nora trailed nervously behind the twins. Man up, she told herself, you can't avoid him forever…
Professor Lupin was already inside the classroom using magic to push desks and chairs aside. He hardly acknowledged their arrival except to mumble a distracted greeting. Nora, on the other hand, couldn't take her eyes off him. Julia hadn't lied; he did look terrible. Pale and gaunt, as though he hadn't eaten a proper meal or had a good night's sleep in days. Could he have been beating himself up over what happened? Agonising over it like she had?
No way, she decided, dropping her gaze to her shoes. He had made evidently clear that whatever had happened between them was nothing but a mistake.
"All right, class," said Lupin, sounding every bit as tired as he looked. "Shall we pick up the Patronus Charm? Afterwards we can revise yesterday's exercises. Some of you could do with a brush up on the more theoretical topics."
They scattered around the classroom in small groups to work. When Caito walked past her, Nora ducked her head and pretended to struggle with her shirt's cufflink button. She could feel the weight of his stare burning holes right through her skull. Between Caito and Lupin, she didn't how much more humiliation she could handle. Where was a hole when she needed one?
Everyone seemed to have made great progress with casting a Patronus. Liam, especially, was very close to producing a fully corporeal one. Nora could almost make out some sort of bird shape from his cloud of shimmering smoke. It gave her enough incentive to try hers one more time, even if she was sure it was hopeless at that point. Something was clearly wrong with her memories.
Nora heard Professor Lupin laughing somewhere in the room and that warm, familiar sound was like a balm to her bruised heart. She loved his laugh, how it rippled through the air and rumbled deeply in her belly. And she loved his smile, so quick and effortless. The way he tugged at his tie or raked his fingers through his tousled hair when he was nervous. The way he hummed quietly to music when he was concentrating on his work. His gaze… his voice… his touch on her face, on her neck, on her hair…
The wind was suddenly knocked out of her lungs. She loved him — she loved Lupin!
An overwhelming sense of happiness bloomed in her chest, a sort of happiness she had never felt before. This is it, she thought breathlessly.
Holding on to that feeling, to all those wonderful memories of a man she had fallen irrevocably in love with, Nora closed her eyes, raised her wand and uttered the incantation in a passionate whisper. Some tingling sparked in her fingers, then began to spread over her hand and up her arm. When she opened her eyes again, she saw that a stream of light had shot from the tip of her wand and was slowly taking shape: four legs... two ears... a muzzle...
"Nora, you did it!" Liam exclaimed.
"Is it a dog?" asked Emma next to him.
"No," Nora breathed without tearing her eyes from the beautiful silver creature now standing proudly in front of her. "It's a wolf."
The wolf tossed its massive head back and a piercing howl shook the room. Excited, Nora searched for Professor Lupin. He was frozen by the window, staring at her Patronus like it was some sort of horrendous beast. His face had gone ashen, completely devoid of colour, ten times more so than it had been before. When their eyes met, she saw in them real panic before he managed to collect himself.
"Excellent work, Nora," he said, putting on a forced smile. Twenty points for Ravenclaw."
"Thanks, professor," she responded warily.
Lupin nodded, barely, and flinched when the wolf brushed past him as it went galloping around the room. Nora was beyond confused. Why wasn't he happy about her Patronus? Why did he look so horrified by it when it was so absolutely beautiful?
"I thought he'd be more thrilled," Emma mused, gazing thoughtfully after Lupin. "I mean you're his first student to produce a Patronus — a fully corporeal one at that. And you couldn't even manage some smoke like us. How'd you do it?"
"Not sure." Nora raised her hand and brushed it over her wolf's head, giggling when he gave a playful yip, taking to skipping circles around her instead. "But isn't he about the most wonderful thing you've ever seen?"
"Anything that makes you smile like that can only be wonderful." With a bright smile of his own, Liam offered his hand out for the wolf to sniff before petting it. "You're right, though, he's pretty cute. Can't wait to see what mine's going to be!"
Nora was also curious to see his Patronus. "You're nearly there. Maybe think of something you love, something that makes you heart beat really fast, in a really good way."
Liam considered the advice. He eyed her sideways and she gave him a thumbs-up for encouragement. The tips of his ears turned crimson, but as he readied his wand, he did so with much determination. At once a large bird flew from his wand with a gurgling croak, soaring above their heads. Nora's wolf barked happily, darting around the room to chase his new friend.
"I knew you could do it!" Nora threw her arms around Liam's neck. He staggered with surprise, wriggling his arms around her by instinct. "It's a raven, Liam!"
It finally seemed to dawn on him that he had, in fact, conjured a fully corporeal Patronus and he burst out laughing, lifting Nora off the ground and spinning with her in circles.
"Congratulations, Liam," Professor Lupin said, sending Liam a far more genuine smile once they had settled down. "Two Patronuses in one lesson, I'm extremely proud. Well done, both of you. Twenty more points for Ravenclaw."
Emma crossed her arms with a pout. "Lucky bastards. Just you watch, professor, I'll be next!"
"I'm positive you will, Emma," Lupin chuckled good-naturedly, eyes flickering briefly toward Nora, then over to the wolf playing around with Liam's raven. "Let's pick this up Friday, yes? I think we should use whatever time we have left today to take a look at those exercises…"
There was a lot of groaning and complaining from everyone in class as they dragged the tables back to place, but Nora and Liam were so happy about their accomplishments it couldn't have mattered any less to them if they spent the rest of the week reviewing exercises.
"Is it true?" Tristan asked excitedly, squeezing into the bench beside Nora the next morning. "Did you conjure a Patronus in Lupin's class yesterday? Like an actual, proper Patronus?"
"I did, yes," Nora grinned proudly. "An actual, proper one."
"So did I," Liam added in, making Tristan's eyes sparkle.
"Wicked! Can you show it to me?"
"Maybe later." Nora drank some orange juice, set the goblet down and took a minute to consider wether to eat something, in the end deciding she wasn't hungry. "Do you still need help with your Charms assignment?"
"Oh! Yes, please!"
The mail flew in as Tristan was reaching inside his bag. As usual Emma and Liam's barn owl swooped over their table to deliver news from Granny Rose. Neither Tristan nor Nora paid much attention since they rarely ever received any letters. That's why they didn't notice the huge, black bird until it landed right on top of Tristan's parchment.
Tristan stared at the owl and the blood-red envelope dangling from its beak horror-stricken. "Is that…"
Nora's insides had frozen with dread. Half terrified, she reached for the envelope.
"Nora, don't!" Liam pleaded. "Just send it back!"
"I can't do that!" she argued in the same urgent tone, snatching the letter and just narrowly avoiding the mean owl from nipping at her fingers before it flew away.
With quivering hands, Nora broke the seal and slid the paper from inside, immediately recognising her father's handwriting.
You are expected home for the holidays.
Your grandmother has arranged for a party to be thrown at the manor in order to present you to society. Fail to arrive at the station on the 19th of December and I will personally go to that castle.
You know I will.
— Maximus Aurelius Cavanaugh
Nora stared at the letter, one hand over her mouth. Good thing she had decided not to eat anything because if she had, it would be on its way up now.
"What does it say?"
Hearing the edge in her brother's voice was all she needed to pull herself together. With far more bravado than she definitely had in her, Nora shredded the paper and set the bits on fire with a snap of her fingers.
"Says I've got to go back for Christmas," she told Tristan. Utter horror took over his face. "Don't worry, I'm going by myself. You stay here with your friends. He won't really care if you're not there. It's just me they want."
"You can't be serious!" Liam bristled, totally livid and apparently beyond any other words.
"You're not going back there," Emma protested in similar fashion, looking at her like she had gone insane.
Nora kept her face neutral. "I have to."
"If you're going, then I'm going," Tristan declared, shoulders squared resolutely.
"This isn't up to debate," Nora said firmly. To further make her point, she grabbed his assignment with every intention to continue the work. He yanked it back not a second later. She heaved a long sigh, "Tristan…"
"Shut up," he hissed hotly. She raised her eyebrows at the tone. "I'm not letting you go back on your own, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."
"I can tell McGonagall not to put your name down on the list," she replied sharply.
"What? No, you can't!"
"Yes, I can!"
They had both raised their voices and the noise was rapidly drawing attention, several heads turning their way.
"You can't make those kinds of decisions for me!" Tristan snapped again.
"Of course I can, I'm your sister!"
"My sister, not my fucking mum!"
The world around them seemed to suddenly plunge into dead silence. Nora pressed her mouth shut, staring sadly at her brother — his tormented eyes, his angry scowl, the closed fists. He hadn't said it to hurt her, she knew that, but all her life she had tried her hardest to protect him. All she did was always and foremost with his wellbeing in mind. He was the most important person in the world to her. So when he said things like that, even though he didn't mean them, it still hurt. It hurt all the way to her soul.
She turned away, letting Tristan know she was done with the conversation. A second later he was furiously packing away his things, hurling off his seat and storming out of the Great Hall.
"Ungrateful rascal," Liam spat angrily. "He's got a point, but that's no way to speak to his older sister." He shook his head and turned to Nora worriedly, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Emma said softly. "That was sort of brutal…"
Nora shrugged without looking at her friends. She could already feel the tears burning hot in her still swollen eyes. God, she was just so tired of crying...
Tristan stormed through the corridors in a blind haze. He was so angry, so full of boiling hot rage. Angry at his father for being cruel and abusive even though they never did anything to deserve it. Angry at his grandmother who never gave two knuts about her grandchildren. Angry at his sister because she was going to end up dead trying to protect him. But most of all, angry at himself for putting that sad, wounded look on her face, for being weak and pathetic and making her feel like she had to carry it all on her shoulders.
Nora wasn't his mom, but she was the closest thing he ever had to one. The only thing. No more than a child herself, she had fed him, bathed him, put him to sleep, sometimes been up whole nights caring for him when he fell ill. It was Nora who taught him how to tie his shoes, how to ride a broom, how to write down his name. It was Nora who made a point to pin up on her bedroom wall every stupid drawing he did for her and celebrated his every accomplishment. All these things she had done while dealing with her own troubles, her own grief. Nora was his anchor, his hero, the one person who never failed him in a world that did nothing but let him down. And she was wasting away before his eyes without him being able to stop it.
In a surge of absolute helpless rage, Tristan threw a punch at the wall. Then howled in pain as the skin on his knuckles split open. "Son ova—!"
The throbbing pain didn't stop him. In fact, it only set him off. He dropped his bag on the floor and went for it, kicking viciously at the rock wall, throwing his entire harrowing frustration into the assault. Soon he lost notion of his surroundings, vision clouding at the edges, blood rushing to his head, ringing in his ears. When something suddenly grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt, he flailed his arms by instinct, ready to defend himself.
A large, strong hand closed around his wrist. "Tristan, it's me. Calm down."
Professor Lupin's firm voice was able to penetrate through the red mist, bringing some clarity to Tristan, who drew back fast, body trembling with adrenaline. The sound of his jagged breathing echoed in the dead silence of the corridor. There was one else around. Thank Merlin, he thought. The last thing he needed was an audience for his mental breakdown.
Conscious of Lupin's stare, and deeply, deeply ashamed, Tristan fumbled clumsily with his blood-splattered shirt, trying to straighten it at least somewhat. He winced when sharp pain shot through his hand.
"You're bleeding," Lupin pointed out calmly.
Tristan curled his fingers in a fist, ignoring the sting and hiding it behind his back. "It's fine," he muttered.
Lupin's looked down at him skeptically. "Why don't we go to my office and I can have a look at it? I'll write Professor Binns a note excusing you from class."
Tempting as the chance to skip Binns's boring lecture was, Tristan hesitated, knowing well Lupin would want to discuss what he had just witnessed.
"I'm afraid it's either my office or to the hospital wing with you," Lupin added upon sensing Tristan's reluctance. "Your choice. Although, fair warning, Madam Pomfrey will chastise you far worse than I would for punching a wall."
"Your office sounds good." Lesser of two evils, Tristan figured.
"Come along, then."
He trudged after Lupin in silence, gaze stuck to his shoes. He wanted to die of embarrassment. Why did it have to be Lupin? Any other teacher could have walked past. Snape or Filch, he wouldn't have minded either of them. But Lupin was his absolute favourite teacher, and Tristan hated that he had seen him at such a low point.
It wasn't the first time he felt like punching something, far from. Some days he woke up and it was all he could think of, hitting something, breaking stuff. Uncontrollable hatred would bubble up from some deep corner inside him, hot and sticky, spreading over every cavity in his chest and crawling up his throat, at times almost suffocating him. Hate so powerful and so angry, it scared him to the bone.
Inside his office, Lupin instructed him to have a seat at his desk while he walked over to the tall highboy in the corner and opened the first drawer, pulling out a small purple bottle and a piece of cloth. He made his way back, tipping the bottle and pressing the nozzle into the cloth as he sat next to Tristan, who jerked his hand at him with slightly more attitude than he perhaps should.
Lupin didn't seem to mind.
"It'll sting a bit," he warned. Tristan hissed when the cloth suddenly brushed over his split knuckles, biting hard on his tongue to contain a barrage of profanities.
Silence spanned while Lupin cleaned the cuts and Tristan glared resentfully at the purple-stained cloth. Whatever the liquid was, it smoked when in contact with his skin. Once the smoke began to clear out and the stinging pain in his knuckles dulled, Lupin did one last swipe of the cloth and used his wand to close the open wounds so only a few pinkish lines remained.
"So," Lupin started, setting his wand and the now bloodied cloth on his desk, dropping his hands to his thighs. "Would you care to explain what happened?" Tristan peered up from under unkempt, curly bangs before shrugging, gaze dropping to the side. "I can't help if you don't talk to me, Tris."
"You can't help anyway," Tristan spat through his clenched jaw. "No one can."
Lupin raised his eyebrows challengingly. "How about you let me be the judge of that?"
Tristan eyed him for a beat, skeptical and suspicious to say the least. "Nora got a letter from home," he ended up saying, resentment and bitterness seeping into his voice. "We've got to go back for Christmas. I don't know why… they've never asked us to before. I bet it's something to do with Nora. The old hag spent all summer dropping hints about pawning her off to some snobby creep like she's a piece of furniture."
"You mean like an arranged marriage?" Lupin frowned deeply. "Do pure-blood families still keep to that archaic tradition?"
Tristan crossed his arms with a derisive smile. "It's all about keeping the line pure, isn't it? Building some ties through marriage doesn't hurt either. My grandmother always said that's all Nora was good for. The sooner they could get rid of her the better, then she'd be her husband's problem."
There was a long silence as Lupin seemed almost too upset to speak.
"Your sister is planning to leave after she graduates. Surely…" He wet his lips, dragged a hand through his hair, curled it in a fist on his lap. "Surely she has no intention of going along with any of that ridiculous nonsense."
"She has to for now, doesn't she?" Tristan said bitterly. Thinking of his sister getting sized up by disgusting, perverted men gave him stomach cramps. "We've got nowhere else to go."
"You can stay here," Professor Lupin suggested in a heartbeat. "Or with any of your friends. I'm positive they'd be more than willing to accommodate you until everything gets sorted out."
"I keep telling her that, but Nora says it's not that simple." Tristan glared down at the pink lines on his knuckles. "I think she's scared he'll come after us and hurt me or our friends."
"And would he?"
"Dunno," Tristan answered honestly. "He might. But it doesn't mean she should sacrifice herself for us. That's what made me so mad... she told me to stay here while she goes back alone. Of course I'm not going to do that, how can she expect me to? I know there's nothing I can do, I know I'm not any good. I can't even make him stop hurting her, all I do is make things worse, but I…"
He knew he was spilling out personal thoughts and feelings, things he never confided to anyone, but he couldn't find it in himself to shut up. He stole a look at Lupin, half afraid to trust him, yet desperately wanting to. Lupin looked back, waiting patiently for him to go on.
"I feel so useless," Tristan said weakly. "And it makes me angry all the time. I stuff it down because I don't want Nora to worry, but sometimes it's so hard... I just have to get away from everyone. Is it normal to feel like this?" His eyes searched Lupin's helplessly. "It can't be, right? What if… what if I'm like him? What if whatever made him this way is inside me too? Is that possible?"
Hesitant but warm and firm, Lupin's hand clasped around Tristan's shoulder. "Tristan, you are nothing like your father. Don't you see? The very fact that you have asked yourself that question, that you have spent time agonising over it, is precisely what makes you both so different."
"Then why do I feel all this anger?" Tristan asked desperately, digging the heels of his hands hard into his eyes where embarrassing tears were gathering rapidly. "Why does it never go away?"
"Because life has failed you in the most painful way possible. Children are not meant to suffer at the hands of their parents, they are meant to be loved and accepted unconditionally. Potected at all cost. Tristan, have you ever felt safe in your own home? Has there ever been even one single moment when you weren't afraid? That anger you feel stems not only from your fear but from the injustice of it all. You're hurting, and you're confused. Why is this happening to you? What have you ever done to deserve being punished?"
Tristan's entire body shook from so hard he was trying to keep himself from crying. He hadn't cried since he was a child, not once, and yet here he was, on the verge of bursting and crumbling to pieces. It was mortifying. Rage would've been less humiliating, or at least more natural to him, than this helpless sadness.
"It isn't fair, I know," Lupin said gently. "Nothing about what you and your sister have lived so far has been. But please don't think you are anything like your father. I can promise there isn't a speck of him in you. There's only Nora. I see her every time I look at you, I see her clear as day."
Hot, stubborn tears finally rolled down Tristan's cheeks. As he wiped them away furiously, the hand Lupin had on his shoulder found a new place on the crown of his head. Instead of comforting him, the gesture only served to further upset him.
"She's all I have and I'm scared he'll… t-that he'll…" Tristan choked with emotion. He couldn't voice it; he wouldn't. "I don't care what she says, I'm not letting her go back alone."
"Let's do this, then. Go home with Nora. Something happens, you need help, any help at all, send me an owl and I will do whatever I can."
For a moment, Tristan forgot all about his red-shot eyes and tear-streaked cheeks and raised his head to look at Professor Lupin incredulously. "Why? Why would you do that? Why do you want to help us?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Lupin replied, like it was the simplest, most natural thing in the world. Tristan wasn't quite sure how to take it. "Do we have a deal? Will you let me help you?"
Speechless, Tristan could only nod.
There was some rustling as Lupin reached inside his jacket. He pulled out a handkerchief for Tristan, who used it to clean his face, then a chocolate bar.
Tristan managed a shaky, half-hearted chuckle. "Is chocolate your answer to everything?"
"An old friend of mine used to say life without chocolate is like a day without sunshine, grey, boring, and greatly disappointing. How are you feeling? Better?"
Tristan shrugged, giving back the handkerchief and taking the candy bar. "A bit."
"Helps to talk about your troubles, doesn't it?" Lupin said with a warm smile. "It's not always easy, in fact most times it's extremely difficult, especially for us men, but afterwards you feel lighter. Why don't you open up to Nora about all this?"
With a sniff, Tristan jerked his shoulders again. "Nora's got enough stuff to worry about."
"If the two of you keep bottling things up from each other instead of talking them through, sooner or later it'll create a rift between you."
As he was speaking, Lupin had stood and stepped around his large desk to take his usual seat behind it. He grabbed some parchment and a quill, which he then dipped into a bottle of ink and used to scribble something in his neat, elegant handwriting.
"Does Nora open up to you?" Tristan asked, biting into his candy.
Lupin's quill faltered for one quick second before resuming its scratching. "Sometimes, yes."
"She's never really talked to me about her feelings. I don't think I've ever even seen her cry…"
"Your sister is an exceptional woman. Just because you don't see her cry doesn't mean she isn't hurting."
"I know that," Tristan grumbled petulantly over a mouthful of chocolate.
"Give this to Professor Binns—" Lupin slid the piece of parchment across the desk. "I doubt he's noticed your absence, but it's always best to be safe."
Tristan shoved the parchment in his pocket and decided to take that as his queue to leave. Sliding off his chair, he checked to make sure his appearance wasn't a complete wreck before turning for the door.
"By the way," Lupin spoke again, stopping him, "were you able to make things right with Miss Lovegood?"
"Yeah," Tristan grinned. "Thanks to your advice."
"Glad to be of service," Professor Lupin chuckled. "Remember, my door's always open."
Indeed feeling ten times lighter, Tristan left Lupin's office and made his way to History of Magic.
For a long time, Remus sat at his desk mulling over his conversation with Tristan. He couldn't decide what worried him the most — that the boy was terrified out of his mind of losing his sister at the hands of their father, or that he was getting more and more wrapped up in Tristan and Nora's lives when he knew he shouldn't.
In so many ways Remus felt like he had failed Harry by walking away and letting Albus decide what was best for his future. He had been beating himself up for it ever since seeing the boy again after so many years. Now he realised it was very painful to want to reach out to someone he cared deeply about but couldn't because Harry had no idea who he was or what James and Lily meant to him. Maybe that's why he couldn't turn his back on Tristan. Maybe he was hoping to find some sort of redemption.
He couldn't deny that he had grown to care about Tristan, and not just because of Nora, even though she did play a great part in it. Tristan reminded him so much of Sirius, not how he looked, more in the way he carried himself, how he spoke and did certain things. Both Sirius and Tristan had experienced damage done to them by their own families. Remus saw in the telltale signs of trauma, the same ones he had once seen in Sirius.
Despite the strain on their relationship, he and his father loved each other, and Lyall Lupin never once raised a hand to his son. How could these parents cause so much physical and psychological pain to their own sons and daughters? What twisted darkness possessed their minds that made them put innocent children, blood of their blood, through such horrible nightmares?
And there was more, he knew there was. Nora had deliberately left out details from her life at home thinking he wouldn't notice. She'd kept the worse of it. What things could be worse than what she had already told him, he was scared to find out.
Remus closed his eyes with a suffering sigh. Merely thinking Nora's name brought an ache to his chest. To have held her so close in his arms, to have been right there on the verge of kissing her… he needed only lower his head an inch and their lips would have met. It all seemed like it happened in a dream.
He hadn't meant to confess his feelings, or touch her like a lover. And never, in a million years, did he ever expect his passion and desire so greatly reciprocated. What could she possibly see in him worthy of her affections? He was blindsided. So much so that he had ended up losing control and almost did something irreversible. If he did kiss her, once wouldn't have been enough, not nearly enough. He had a hard enough time keeping his hands off her as it was, knowing the feel of her lips and the taste of her mouth would have been his doom.
The whole thing was a huge mistake. He shouldn't have put either of them in that position in the first place. But by god — it just made him so angry to catch Nora and Caito all alone in that dark corridor. He'd had his suspicions for a while. Caito spent most of his time staring at Nora, it was a wonder the boy managed such good grades given how little attention he actually paid in class. There were also sordid rumours of a lovers quarrel circling around in the duelling club. Hearing those had made his blood boil like acid in his veins, and when he saw the two of them with his own eyes, saw the way Caito grabbed Nora like she was his to grab, he went blind with jealousy.
Jealousy was a new experience for Remus. He wasn't a possessive man by nature. Of course that didn't account for his reaction. And look where it got him — he had brought pain upon the one person he never wanted to hurt. He could still see the devastation on her face when he pulled away. It reflected his own feelings to perfection. But the worst… the worst was having her sea-goddess eyes flooded with tears. Tears put there by him. Sadness caused by him. Because he was weak, on top of despicable.
There was less than a week left to the full moon. Its influence weighed heavily on him, body and mind, draining all the energy and every drop of happiness from his very soul. The smallest of movements left him exhausted. In the mornings he had to drag his lethargic body out of bed and to class, but he had trouble concentrating because his head felt like it was full of cotton. Seeing Nora hadn't helped, not that not seeing her made him feel any better.
For perhaps the millionth time that day, he thought of her silver wolf in class. Closing his eyes, he raised his wand and uttered the charm that was so familiar to him. When he opened them, his own wolf stared back at him, larger in size yet overall identical.
"Why?" Remus asked in a voice no louder than a whisper. There was no answer as the silver wolf continued to stare in silence.
Frustrated, he waved his wand and the animal dissolved in a cloud of smoke. It was the same every time he conjured a Patronus. Unlike Nora's playful and spirited wolf, his would just stand there, solemn and quiet, as though waiting for something. Acceptance perhaps.
In all his life, he had only seen two people with matching Patronuses — James and Lily, who, despite a rocky start, had loved each other with the kind of love he had only read about in books. Granted not many witches and wizards could produce fully corporeal Patronuses, matching pairs were even rarer. Did that mean something? Was it a sign that Nora's truest representation of her soul was the same as his own? Or was it a fluke?
Pain began to drill at his temples. He had to blink several times when his office suddenly spun sideways like a tilt-a-whirl. Reaching into a drawer on his desk for the small vial Poppy had thrust into his hands that morning, he swallowed the liquid in one go. Once the throbbing pain dulled down to a mild ache and the room quit spinning, Remus went into his quarters to splash some water on his face. Then, he grabbed his briefcase and was off for his next class.
Insolent first year Slytherins were always a test to his patience, whether he be under the influence of the full moon or not. Twice during his lecture he came dangerously close to throwing two remarkably snarky boys out of the classroom. He was telling McGonagall about it over the afternoon break in the staff room when Snape walked through the door. Generally, he and Snape went to great lengths to ignore each other during the day, exchanging few words and only when absolutely essential. So when Snape's black eyes zoomed in on him, Remus felt every hair on the back of his neck stand on its end.
"I heard two students cast a Patronus in your class this morning, Lupin. You must be very pleased with yourself."
"Did they really?" McGonagall rounded on Remus with obvious enthusiasm. "Why didn't you say so sooner? How marvellous! Who was it?"
"Liam Crowley and Nora Cavanaugh," he said, shifting in his seat.
"Well, that's not surprising." McGonagall nearly smiled. "William and Evanora are our top students after all."
Snape loomed in, face contorted into something that could have almost been a smirk if it wasn't so unpleasant. "I heard Miss Cavanaugh in particular dazzled the crowd. My students said it was an impressive animal. A wolf, was it?"
He held Snape's goading stare impassively.
"A wolf?" McGonagall echoed with a surprised frown. As she was about to inquire further, the door opened and Pomona Sprout poked her tiny, round head in to summon a word with her. "Oh, excuse me..."
With McGonagall gone, Remus and Snape were the only ones left in the staff room.
"Very interesting things, Patronuses," said Snape in that same facetious tone as he walked over to a table in the corner and poured himself a cup of tea. "They often tell a lot about a person, wouldn't you agree? I wonder what having a wolf as a Patronus says about Miss Cavanaugh."
Don't do it, Remus told himself, clamping his mouth shut and gritting his teeth tight. Don't rise, it's not worth it.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, Lupin," Snape continued, voice full of malicious gloating, "but isn't your Patronus also a wolf? Is that a coincidente, I wonder."
"I'm afraid I don't understand the point you seem to be trying to make, Severus."
"I think you do." Silence dragged out for another long beat. Snape scoffed contemptuously, "You're not even denying it."
"There's nothing to deny." Remus finished his tea, set aside the mug and, buttoning his jacket, stood from his seat. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have one more class to teach."
"Word to the wise, Lupin," Snape said sweetly. "Teenage girls may stroke a man's ego, but it's not all fun and games once they become attached. Miss Cavanaugh strikes me as the type that gets attached too easily. Daddy issues, you know. I expect that's why you caught her eye in the first place. A sad, damaged girl looking for a white knight to rescue her. Too bad you're no knight. More like a beast, aren't you, Lupin?"
The hand Remus had on the doorknob froze. Somewhere inside of him, on some deep, dark corner, the wolf reared its head and snapped its teeth.
He glanced over his shoulder coldly. "For someone who was a punching bag for his father, maybe you ought to show a little more empathy and compassion."
That wiped the smirk right off Snape's face. Livid, the man closed the distance between them in two quick strides. "Do not dare talk about my family like you know anything about it!"
"Then do not talk about things you also know nothing about," Remus retaliated somehow calmly even though his heart was hammering wildly in his chest and the beast in him continued to growl. "I have bent over backwards to be pleasant and civil despite all your spiteful little comments about the past and all your dissimulated insults. But I will not stand idly by while you tarnish not only my reputation but Nora's as well."
Snape burst with contempt. "Do you think defending Miss Cavanaugh's honour makes up for the fact that you're fooling around with an underage student? What do you imagine will happen after she finds out you're a mangy werewolf, not a penny to your name?"
Remus was shaking from the sheer effort of holding back. It took a lot to tip him over the edge. He didn't like to lose control, over anything, not even his emotions. Being forced to lose complete and utter control of oneself one night a month tended to do that to a person. Snape's jabs cut him deep, because there were hints of truth in them. He had let things go too far with Nora. The line wasn't just crossed, it was gone, vanished from existence the moment he let himself fall in love. All he could do now was stay away.
"You're a grown man acting like a petulant child, hoping to achieve some sort of retribution for things that have happened over fifteen years ago. I won't stoop down to your level, Severus. Find someone else to bully. And leave Nora out of it."
Before there was a chance Snape could spew more venom, Remus flung the door open and left the staff room.
I bet you all guessed what Nora's Patronus was going to be, right? It was only logical!
Btw, there's a meaning to Liam's Patronus. Ravens and wolves are thought to have a special kind of bond, often hunting together and acting playful toward each other. I thought it couldn't have been more fitting. Liam's not only a Ravenclaw, but he's also in love with Nora, and that affection shows in the form of his Patronus.