Chapter 30 - A New Home
"You… you can't be."
Ava's voice cracked mid-sentence. Her breath hitched as the air grew suddenly heavier, pressing in around her. Her hands flew to her face, fingertips cold as she shook her head in disbelief. "You're lying."
Lupin's expression faltered. He reached out, palm open, a small, tentative gesture meant to reassure but Ava recoiled instinctively, stumbling back with a choked gasp.
"Stay away from me!" The words came out sharper than she intended, but they hung in the air like a slap.
Lupin withdrew his hand slowly, his shoulders sagging as he fell back into his seat, pain flickering behind his eyes. "I… I meant to tell you sooner," he murmured. "But I feared it would only push you away."
His voice was quiet, and measured, but beneath Ava could see there was something fragile in his tone.
"I'll give you space if you need it. I'll leave–" he started, moving to step away.
"No," Ava said, closing her eyes tightly, hugging her arms across her chest as if to physically keep herself from unraveling. "Wait. I'm… I'm sorry."
The words felt foreign in her mouth. Her pulse still pounded in her ears, but the panic was giving way to something else. Confusion, sadness, fear. For herself and for him. But it was the tone of his voice that made her keep speaking. "I just… I just need… time," she said, her voice trembling. "It's not every day someone tells you they're… that they're a…"
Lupin's eyes softened. He lifted a hand, not to stop her, but to offer gentle understanding. "I know. And I don't blame you."
A long silence stretched between them, broken only by the hum of the ferry's engine beneath their feet and the quiet slosh of water beyond the porthole.
"I want you to understand something," Lupin said, voice steady now. "I've never…never allowed myself to be a danger to you or anyone else. Severus Snape," he said the name with visible effort, "has brewed me Wolfsbane Potion every month since I began teaching. When I take it, I keep my mind. I'm still myself… just in a different body. A wolf, yes, but one that poses no harm."
Ava lowered herself back onto the edge of her bunk, staring at the floor, her throat tight. "When were you…?"
"Bitten?" Lupin's voice grew quiet again. "When I was very young. Five, maybe six. It was an attack. A calculated one. There was nothing my parents could do. Back then, there were no potions. No understanding. It was-" he paused, swallowing hard, "Well it was hell."
Ava looked at him, really looked at him. The tired eyes, the deep lines at the corners, the pain that clung to him like a second skin. How much of that pain had she never seen?
"And Dumbledore?" she asked after a beat. "He knew? He let you teach?"
"He did." Lupin gave the smallest nod, grateful. "He believed everyone deserves a second chance. He made sure precautions were in place. He took a risk for me when no one else would."
Before Ava could reply, there was a knock at the cabin door.
"Anything from the trolley for you and your daughter?" a cheerful voice asked.
Ava turned, startled. A middle-aged woman in a burgundy uniform pushed a silver cart into view, stacked with enchanted tins of biscuits and floating teacups.
Lupin smiled faintly. "Just a cup of tea for me. Ava?"
Ava shook her head. "No, thank you."
The woman poured the tea and handed it over. Lupin exchanged a few coins, nodding politely as she moved on.
He took a slow sip before glancing at Ava again. "The transformations… especially in the beginning… they were unbearable. It's the most painful thing I've ever experienced." His gaze drifted toward the round window again, to the grey sea stretching to the horizon. "Even with Wolfsbane, the memory never fades."
Ava tucked her knees up, wrapping her arms around them. "Is that what happened in the forest? When we found you?"
He didn't answer at first, but after a long moment, he nodded once.
"It was a full moon," he said quietly. "The Wolfsbane only does so much. If I miss even a single dose, I'm dangerous. That's why I left Hogwarts. Not because I wanted to but because I couldn't risk hurting anyone."
He exhaled slowly, eyes drifting to the sea. "Not to mention, it wouldn't have taken long before word got out that a werewolf was teaching at Hogwarts. I could only imagine the number of inquiries Dumbledore would have to sift through. Letters. Complaints. Demands for my resignation. It would have drawn the kind of attention the school didn't need."
Another beat of silence passed. The only sound was the distant hiss of waves and the soft clink of Lupin's cup as he set it down on the sill.
"You remember the Whomping Willow?" he asked, almost softly.
Ava tilted her head. "Of course."
"There's a tunnel beneath it," he said. "Dumbledore had it built when I was a student. Every full moon, I was taken there. To the Shrieking Shack. Where I could turn safely, far from anyone else."
Ava sat in stunned silence, staring out at the sea but not seeing it at all.
The secrets. The pain. The years of hiding. All of it. Worn silently, without bitterness. She didn't know what to say, so she didn't say anything. But for the first time since he'd spoken the truth, she didn't feel afraid. She felt something closer to awe. And just a little bit of heartbreak.
"The screams," Lupin murmured, voice nearly inaudible. "I can still hear them sometimes. I can only imagine the fear I caused in those villages…"
Ava shifted forward in her seat, her chest tightening. "You don't have to go any further."
Lupin let out a slow breath, his eyes dropping back to the tea in his hands. He took a quiet sip, shoulders slightly hunched under the weight of memory. Ava's heart ached for him. She couldn't begin to fathom the isolation he must have endured for most of his life, living with something he never chose, something that had stolen pieces of his future.
"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," she said softly.
But Lupin shook his head. "I'm not. Not entirely." A faint smile ghosted his lips. "Aside from the transformations, I was… happier than I ever thought I could be. For the first time in my life, I had three wonderful friends…James, Peter, Sirius. They were the only ones, aside from your mother, who saw me as more than a monster. They saw me as family."
Ava looked down at her hands, her fingers curling into the edge of the blanket. She thought of Angelina, of Alicia and Katie, of Lee's terrible jokes and George's easy laugh. Fred, with that crooked grin and steady hand. It felt like a lifetime ago that she sat at the Gryffindor table surrounded by all of them, the noise and warmth of Hogwarts buzzing around her like a protective bubble. She hadn't realized how much she'd relied on that chaos. How much she relied on them. Not until it was gone. The ache of it pressed deep into her chest. No one at Beauxbatons filled that void, not really. And no matter how bright the chandeliers or how elegant the halls, it would never feel like home. She can only imagine how Lupin felt now. They were more alike than she thought.
Ava hesitated before asking, "You said Sirius isn't a threat anymore. What happened?"
He glanced out the window, watching the last threads of light fade over the waves. "To keep it brief… he wanted to protect Harry. He wanted to prove his innocence."
Ava tilted her head. "You'll have to give me the full story later."
"You might as well ask Sirius himself," Lupin replied, running a hand through his graying hair. "We'll be staying at his house for a while. I need to go over a few things with him and some others."
Her eyes narrowed slightly. "What sort of things?"
Lupin shook his head. "Later," he said with finality, though not unkindly. "Right now, it's time for you to get some rest."
He stood and reached into the overhead compartment, retrieving a folded blanket. As Ava stretched out across her bunk, he gently draped it over her.
"We'll be arriving in a few hours. Sleep while you can."
She nodded, adjusting the blanket over her shoulders as she watched him sit back down and open the Daily Prophet in a chair next to a small desk in the corner. The light from the window caught the strain in his features, the tension he wore quietly like a second skin.
"Lupin?" she said suddenly.
"Yes?" he replied, not looking up from the paper.
"You were wrong about something."
He lowered the Prophet slightly, furrowing his brow. "Oh?"
"When you said James, Sirius, Peter, and my mother were the only people who ever saw you as family… you forgot me."
Lupin froze, the edges of the paper trembling slightly in his hands. Slowly, his gaze met hers.
"I may not call you father," Ava whispered, turning on her side and curling into the seat, "but that doesn't mean I don't see you that way. I'm glad you're in my life."
Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place was unlike any home Ava had ever seen. To the unknowing Muggle eye, it didn't exist at all. It was hidden, wedged behind enchantments and centuries-old magic. But to those who knew of its location, its appearance was nothing short of startling. With a deep rumble and a shudder of stone, the neighboring houses groaned and shifted, making way as the ancient Black family home emerged from thin air, rising grim and foreboding between them. Its worn stoop led to a battered black door, adorned with a serpent-shaped knocker that gleamed faintly in the gloom.
Sirius met them at the top of the steps with a boyish grin that seemed almost too wide for his gaunt face. As the door swung open, Ava was immediately hit with the scent of dust and damp wood. The entrance hall beyond was cloaked in shadows, its tattered wallpaper peeling like old skin, and the carpeting underfoot was threadbare, worn to the floorboards in places. Cobwebs clung to corners and draped from the chandelier like neglected lace.
Sirius took their coats and tossed them into a narrow hall closet with a dramatic flourish, then turned to face her properly. It was the first time she'd seen him up close, and despite the countless moving photos in the Daily Prophet, they hadn't done him justice, or perhaps they had. His face was thin, skin drawn tight over high cheekbones, as if Azkaban had tried to carve the life from him. Yet there was still something striking about him. His dark hair fell over one eye with effortless charm, and there was a light in his expression that made it clear that he was alive now, truly alive, and reveling in it.
"Ava!" he beamed. "I'm so glad you're here. I want you to think of this place as your home, alright?"
Before she could answer, he was already talking again.
"I had Kreacher prepare a room for you on the second floor. Hopefully, it's to your liking. And I had him go to your old house to collect some of your belongings. Everything should be upstairs, waiting for you." He clapped his hands together once. "Also, I hope you're hungry. I've had dinner prepared. It's ready and waiting in the dining room. Come on, follow me!"
With a whirl of energy that didn't quite match the gloom of the house, Sirius spun on his heel and headed down the corridor.
Ava hesitated, her eyes lingering on the faded family portraits lining the walls, most of them sneering or whispering in disapproval from behind cracked glass. She looked up at Lupin, who gave her a soft, reassuring smile. He placed a gentle hand between her shoulder blades, guiding her forward.
"Come on," he said. "Don't let the decor fool you. It grows on you... eventually."
Together, they followed Sirius deeper into the heart of the house, the door creaking shut behind them
Dinner was far better than Ava had expected.
She had been nervous about staying at Grimmauld Place, uncertain of what Sirius Black, the now infamous prisoner-turned-guardian, would be like. But it had only taken a few minutes in his company to feel oddly at ease. Sirius had a roguish charm, a boyish humor that peeked through the sharp lines of hardship on his face. Though gaunt from his years in Azkaban, there was warmth in his smile and something in the way he teased Lupin that made Ava feel strangely at home.
The dining room was dim but grand, lit by flickering candles in heavy brass sconces. The table groaned beneath platters of roasted chicken, potatoes dripping with gravy, buttery peas, and crusty bread still steaming from the oven. Though the house bore the weight of old magic and dust, Sirius had gone out of his way to make this feel like a home.
Ava, Lupin, and Sirius lingered long after the plates had been cleared. The meal turned into laughter, and the laughter into long, meandering conversation. Ava caught herself spacing out now and then, her eyes drifting across the shadowy corners of the room, to the cobwebbed chandelier overhead, to a dresser in the corner where an enormous spider ambled across the top. She shuddered and forced herself to tune back in.
"The stadium is massive, Remus. Nearly a hundred thousand seats!" Sirius was saying, his hands gesturing as he described the setup for the Quidditch World Cup.
"This year's Cup should be brilliant," Lupin said, more reserved. "My bets are on the Irish."
That reminded her. "I'm going to the World Cup," she blurted out suddenly.
Both men turned to her with raised brows.
"With who?" Lupin asked, instantly alert. "And when exactly were you planning to mention this?"
Ava winced. "With Marcell. He's a… friend from school. He invited me. Isabella too. I meant to tell you earlier, on the ferry, but…" She trailed off, shrugging. "We'll be in box seats."
Lupin frowned, his mouth twitching in a way that suggested he was trying not to overreact. "A boy. I see. You never mentioned him before."
"Oh, come on," Sirius cut in with a bark of laughter, clapping Lupin on the back. "Look at her, Remus. You'd be shocked if there weren't boys lining up. Merlin, she's Vanessa's daughter, after all."
Ava burst into laughter, shaking her head. "He's just a friend, I swear. Marcell's… different. Kind. He's not like…" she caught herself before Fred's name could slip out. "He's not trying anything. He just wants company."
Lupin still looked skeptical, his brow furrowed. "I don't know if I feel comfortable letting you go without–"
"You won't need to," Sirius interrupted, waving a hand. "She'll be surrounded by friends and thousands of witches and wizards. The stadium will be swarming with Ministry security. There's no safer place, short of Hogwarts."
Ava's laughter faded, her smile dimming as her eyes dropped to her lap. "I mean… I don't have to go," she murmured. "Maybe you're right. Maybe it's better if I just… stay behind."
Her voice had grown quieter, more careful. The flicker of light in her eyes dulled as a familiar resignation settled over her expression. She twisted her hands in her lap, her shoulders folding in slightly.
She was bracing for a "no." For disapproval. For the inevitable dismissal. It was a look Lupin recognized all too well. It was the guarded posture of someone who had learned, over time, that asking for things led only to disappointment.
She opened her mouth again, softer now. "I just thought… it might be nice to feel normal for once. Even for a day." Her fingers stilled. "And I'm not looking for anything… with anyone. I'm still… not there. I just wanted to do something fun. With people who make me feel human again."
There was a pause, long enough for her to start pulling back into herself. But Lupin leaned forward slightly, his voice warm and even. "That makes perfect sense."
Ava looked up.
He gave her a gentle smile. "You deserve to feel normal. And you don't have to explain yourself. Not to me."
The tension in her shoulders eased, just a little. She looked up at him, unsure as if waiting for the caveat, the hesitation. But it never came.
"If you trust these friends," Lupin continued, "and you feel safe with them, then yes. Go. Enjoy it. I think it'll be good for you."
She stared at him, surprised by how easy and unburdened his answer felt. Like the answer had always been yes, and she'd never needed to steel herself for anything else.
"Really?" she asked, her voice smaller than before.
He nodded. "Really." A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he added. "Just don't make me regret it."
She leapt from her seat and hugged him tightly. "Thank you! I'll stay with them the entire time, I promise."
Sirius grinned as he leaned back in his chair. "There we are. You're free to go be a teenager for once."
"May I be excused? I need to owl Marcell."
"Go on," Lupin said, shaking his head with a chuckle.
As she hurried out of the room and up the stairs, she heard Sirius mutter behind her, "She seems a little too excited to be going with a 'friend.'"
"I heard that!" Ava called back down. "He is a friend. Goodnight!"
Sirius burst into laughter again, and this time, even Lupin cracked a smile.
It took Ava a couple of tries to find her room. Grimmauld Place was a maze of creaky staircases, mismatched doors, and faded tapestries that seemed to shift behind her back. She passed by portraits that muttered under their breath and rugs that curled at the edges like they were trying to trip her. But eventually, she found it–the room Sirius had said was hers.
When she opened the door, she froze.
She had braced herself for gloom. For dust. For cold stone and forgotten furniture. Instead, the room was... warm.
The walls were painted a soft, buttery canary yellow, glowing in the light of a small brass lamp on the bedside table. A full-sized bed stood against the far wall, draped in a plush cream-colored duvet and fluffed pillows. Her trunk sat at the foot, and everything looked like it had been placed with care. It didn't feel like a spare room. It felt like someone had tried to make it hers.
Slowly, she stepped inside. Her shoes sank slightly into the thick, pale carpet. She crossed the room and opened the closet. Her breath caught. Her clothes, every piece from home, were hanging neatly, just as they had been before she left. Folded scarves. Her favorite worn-out jumper. Even the too-small jacket she hadn't had the heart to toss.
Her throat tightened, and she turned to the desk. It was mahogany, polished, and surprisingly elegant. She sank into the matching chair and reached for the top drawer, intending to find parchment to write to Marcell.
But what she found instead made her heart lurch. Letters. Dozens of them. A whole stack, carefully bound together with a thin bit of twine.
Her fingers hovered over them before she pulled them free, one by one. She didn't need to look at the handwriting to know. The envelopes were smudged, slightly bent at the corners, but familiar. These were from Hogwarts. From home.
Her chest ached at the sight of them. For weeks she had avoided the guilt, the homesickness, the what-ifs. But now, it all sat in her hands, silent and waiting. Letters she had never answered. Names she had missed–Angelina, Alicia, Katie. George.
She didn't see a letter from Fred.
Part of her wanted to tear into them immediately. Another part wanted to throw them in the fire. For months, she had shut out her friends, convincing herself it was for their safety… or because she couldn't face their disappointment. But the truth was, she had been scared.
Scared of what she'd see in their words. Scared they'd moved on. Scared they hadn't.
She picked a letter from the middle–Angelina's handwriting, looping and urgent.
Ava,
I know you're not interested in hearing from us,
but I'm not going to stop writing.
I miss you. Hogwarts isn't the same without you.
We're in the thick of our O.W.L.s and it's torture.
I just hope I get enough to make my family happy.
If you want to see us this summer, our door is open.
But I'm guessing you'll be with Lupin.
I know I said it already but… I miss you.
And so does Fred.
The prat won't admit it, but I know he does.
He's just as stubborn as you.
–Angie
Ava folded the letter with trembling hands. She reached for the rest, rifling through the stack…Angelina, Alicia, Katie, Lindsay. Eventually, she found the one from George and opened it.
Ava,
Please tell me you haven't been kidnapped by elegant French vampires
who feed exclusively on sarcasm and bad decisions.
Hope everything's alright over there. Hogwarts isn't the same without you.
It's quieter and slightly more flammable now that Fred's been left unsupervised.
We've been working on something big.
I'd tell you what it is, but Fred hates when I spoil the surprise.
Which is deeply unfair, because I'm terrible at keeping secrets and it's killing me.
Anyway, hurry back. We miss you… All of us do.
–G
P.S. Do French toilets flush the other way,
or is that just Muggle nonsense?
Please investigate. For science.
She read George's letter twice, a soft smile pulling at her lips despite herself. Trust him to make her laugh at a time like this. Even from miles away, his voice came through so clearly. For a moment, it made her feel like she was back at the Gryffindor table, laughing over some half-baked scheme. But as the smile faded, reality returned. There were no letters from Fred. Of course, there weren't.
She'd told Lupin to toss them. At the time, it had felt like self-preservation. A way for her to cut the ties clean. But now, with the weight of George's letter in her hands and a stack of others beside it, the silence from Fred felt louder than anything. It made her chest ache in that familiar, hollow way.
She wasn't surprised, not really. Fred was stubborn. Proud. If he was hurting, she doubted he'd ever admit it, even to himself. And maybe, she thought bitterly, he wasn't hurting at all. Maybe he had moved on. Maybe he hated her.
"I really blew it," she whispered to no one.
But regret couldn't change the past. And there was nothing she could write to Fred that would undo what had already been done. No neat apology that could patch the crack she'd left behind.
Still, maybe… maybe she could start somewhere. She reached for a clean piece of parchment, her quill hovering for a moment before she began to write:
Marcell,
Thank you again for the invitation.
I'd love to go to the World Cup with you and Isabella.
I think it'll be a lot of fun! –C
