Jul. 5th, 2010 08:50 am
Fic: These Four Kings (Year Two 4/4)
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fox_confessorTitle: These Four Kings (Year Two 4/4)
Author: Dani (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
escribo)
Word Count: 3446
Rating: PG
(Pairings: in the future will be remus/sirius, lily/james)
Timeline: April 16 (Monday) 1973
Summary: Remus gets some disturbing news and Sirius helps him make sense of it all
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. I've not made nor seek any profit.
Year 1: one/ two/ three/ four/ five/ six/ seven
Year 2: one/ two/ three
To begin with, it had promised to be a bad day. Remus didn't get much sleep the night before, and what little he managed just after dawn was disturbed by James and Sirius' bickering. Then Peter and Remus were late to breakfast because Peter couldn't find his transfiguration essay and wouldn't leave without it, and wouldn't let Remus leave without him. It took them nearly a quarter hour of searching before Peter remembered he'd left it in the common room, this after Remus had asked him twice if he'd looked there.
By the time they found it, James and Sirius had made up in their easy way and long left them for the Great Hall, where Remus and Peter found them thinking up rude rhymes for a new prank. Remus almost immediately regretted showing them the repeating charm he'd read about, though he knew he should have known better. He ignored both of them in favor of hurriedly downing his porridge, which he drowned in a slurry of maple syrup, and took up James' discarded Daily Prophet that the Potters had sent to him though Remus knew he only ever read the box scores for Quidditch.
Remus was hoping for a crossword puzzle when he ran across a small article buried on the bottom of the third page that stopped him, spoon frozen halfway to his mouth.
WEREWOLVES WAGE WAR ON WIZARDING WORLD
One day before the full moon, the Ministry of Magic announced the passage of some long expected legislation that will provide for the expansion of the Werewolf Registry.
"These measures are necessary to protect the Wizarding population against a recent onslaught of shocking werewolf attacks,” says Junior Assistant Undersecretary to the Werewolf Management Registrar, Deloris Umbridge. "We've been under constant attack for too long and must take all necessary steps now to protect ourselves from these ravening beasts before it's too late. No one is safe."
The legislation also expands the budget of the Beast Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to create a Werewolf Capture Unit, to be headed by Walden MacNair, a former warden of the Azkaban Prison. This new sub-department will be regulated by the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, which will determine when a werewolf is to be deemed dangerous as well as the type of punishment to be meted out.
The Werewolf Registry was originally established in 1947 by Newton Scamander, respected magizoologist and author of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. It remained voluntary until a recent rash of werewolf attacks in London forced the Ministry to review current policies after an outcry from the public. Werewolves will now be required to register their current location, next of kin, and in return will receive a registration number. Werewolves found in violation of the new registration rules will be detained for ten days in an approved Ministry detention center and fined up to 500 galleons.
“There have been relatively few reports of werewolf bites in the last quarter century and only ten confirmed cases of lycanthropy in the last five years," Mr. Scamander said from his office in the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau when reached for comment last night. "Our efforts should be spent on treatment and management of the disease, rather than overprotective measures meant to strip werewolves of their rights and extend Ministry control."
Ministry officials disagree, however. “The werewolves have unquestionably declared war on the Wizarding world and we must take no chances,” Ms. Umbridge said. “Once we’ve identified a werewolf as dangerous, it is our duty henceforth to destroy the beast and protect our children. The Werewolf Capture Unit will be authorized to use lethal force once the Committee has identified a threat.” (For a full list of known werewolves turn to page 12).
Alongside the article was a picture of a squat woman with a dinner plate sized pink bow quivering atop her tightly curled hair. She blinked up at Remus with a toothy smile and he felt a little sick looking at her. He put down his spoon and pushed away his bowl, stuck on the words lethal force, and sat up straighter on the bench. His mind went toward images of being hunted through the Forbidden Forest, of being held in a cage Merlin knows where, he remembered Professor McGonagall saying, and wondered what Azkaban would be like. He gave a shudder when Sirius put his hand on his shoulder, his grin suggesting that Remus should be laughing along with whatever joke he'd just said.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Remus said a little too quickly, not daring to look again at either James or Sirius, not trusting himself.
James reached for the paper Remus still held in his hand and Remus snatched it back, standing up too fast and upsetting his goblet of milk. He used his napkin to sop up what he could of the spill before he gave it up as a bad job.
"It's nothing," he said as he shoved the paper into his bag. "We're going to be late."
James and Sirius both narrowed their eyes at him before they looked at each other. Remus turned away, not wanting to see anymore, and headed out the doors before they could catch up.
Usually Remus loved his classes, even Potions, but all that morning he was distracted, by the article, by the way James and Sirius kept shooting him sympathetic looks because they'd finally remembered it was near the full moon. It was better than them knowing the truth, he thought, and kept his eyes straight ahead to where Professor Slughorn was lecturing, and eventually Sirius stopped trying to get his attention.
Remus hadn't looked at the listing of other werewolves, half afraid that he'd find his own name on it. He couldn't actually remember the time before he'd been bitten, except as snatches of playing barefoot in an overgrown garden or sipping from his dad's cup of tea early one morning. Even the night he was bit was lost to a haze of pain and the medications that had kept him alive. He was glad he couldn't remember it and he never tried too hard, but that meant all his memories, all his experiences, were as a werewolf, and he hated that, especially now that he knew other boys who didn't have that burden. He didn't resent them, he thought, he really didn't, but he couldn't help but envy them.
By the end of that afternoon's Transfiguration class, Remus was in knots about the article, about the moon, about his dismal performance in transfiguring a beetle into a pin cushion, practically first year stuff that even Peter managed with some ease. Worse still was when he spilled his brand new ink well, the last in his trunk, staining his ragged cuffs. Professor McGonagall had set a comforting hand on his shoulder then, which made him feel worse, and for the rest of the class he itched to be somewhere, anywhere he couldn't see the pitying looks, real or imagined.
"Mr. Lupin?" It was Professor McGonagall's voice that pulled him from his thoughts, realizing that he'd sat a moment too long after they'd been dismissed and the other students were already filing from the room. He kept his head down, his eyes never leaving the beetle that slowly crossed the morass of drying ink on the scarred table top, almost escaping until he nudged it with the tip of his wand.
"Remus," she tried this time. "Would you come with me to my office, please? I'd like to have a word."
"Yes, ma'am." Remus quickly shouldered his bag, eager to get this over with, and followed her to her office. He refused to look to where James, Sirius, and Peter stood in the hall waiting for him, and was perversely grateful when Professor McGonagall dispersed them with a sharp word.
Inside her office, Professor McGonagall lifted the lid from a tartan tin, offering a biscuit to Remus as she poured them each a cup of tea. Remus politely took a piece of shortbread, remembering his manners enough not to fidget in his chair, and nibbled on the edge of his sweet though he found he couldn't swallow. His thoughts had gone again to the article, and he wondered about the registration number and if he'd have to carry a card of some sort, to be surrendered when asked, he supposed. Setting down his biscuit, Remus sat back in his chair and twisted his fingers together, suddenly remembering the Muggle passport that had his picture and his name inside for when they traveled over the Channel in search of cures that didn't actually exist.
"There was an article in this morning's Daily Prophet," Professor McGonagall said, cutting through his memories of charlatans and pain and his mother's tears. "It's what I wanted to talk to you about."
"I saw James'."
"Then you know."
"Yes, ma'am. Have there been many attacks?"
"All so far unconfirmed. The Headmaster has sent an owl to Professor Scamander, who believes it's all nothing more than fear mongering." Professor McGonagall sipped at her tea, the porcelain cup covered in a delicate pattern of rosebuds and ivy. Setting it back down in its saucer, Professor McGonagall turned the cup three times before she spoke again. "The registry has served its purpose for many year in identifying potential dangers to wizards infected with lycanthropy and those not."
"They wouldn't always know, though, right? I mean, when I was bit my father didn't report it to the Ministry. They were afraid I'd be taken from them." Remus finally looked up at Professor McGonagall. He saw something like dread cross over her features, like some shadow of a deep sadness, he thought, though it was gone as quickly as it had come.
"No, the list doesn't account for everyone, and it doesn't list Muggles who are bitten because they are much less likely to survive. Their deaths are often reported as accidents and the Ministry has no clear knowledge of their numbers."
"Even wizards aren't likely to survive, my dad said. He said we were blessed because I lived when most die, especially because I was so young." With an ache settled deep into the very core of his bones as the tide of the moon swung ever closer and no parents near to soothe away the pain and whisper how very much wanted he was, Remus choked on his words. He bit his lip to keep from saying anything more, and looked down at his shoes, at his frayed laces.
"You are very much blessed, Remus." Professor McGonagall abandoned her chair and crossed to the tall windows that looked out over the courtyard. Dark gray clouds, heavy with rain, darkened the sky. She was quiet for so long that Remus jumped, startled, when she spoke again. "There are forces at work here, which I cannot explain."
"Voldemort?"
Professor McGonagall twisted to look at him, her hand clenching on the heavy curtains as a small gasp escaped her lips.
"Where did you hear that name?" She asked, her voice shaking.
"I've heard some of the older boys talking. They said it may come to war but I don't understand with who. The werewolves? Is he a werewolf, too?"
"It is not to be repeated, that name."
Remus saw the sadness again in Professor McGonagall, around her eyes and her mouth, even though her voice carried the same brusqueness as when she was handing out detentions to Sirius and James. Still, it was there and reminded him rather painfully of his mother. For a moment, he could hear her voice, just a scrap of an old nursery rhyme, with moonbeam windows and with wheels of stars, hush my little one and have no fear. He wished he could remember the rest.
"I won't," he finally said, but she had already turned from him.
It took several more long minutes before she shook herself from whatever memory held her and Remus studied her--her ramrod straight back and broad shoulders, her black hair pulled tight into a bun at the nape of her neck and dark blue eyes that could be stern or kind, depending on her mood. When she turned back to him, she had drawn herself up very tall and clasped her hands tightly.
"You're safe here, Remus," she said, no trace of emotion left in her voice. "If you were to register, everyone here and abroad would know about your condition."
"I couldn't stay."
"Professor Dumbledore would never ask you to leave, and I would never allow it in any case, but life could certainly become more difficult."
"But they would pressure him. You. The parents." Remus couldn't bring himself to mention Sirius' mother. "It would be open season on the werewolf."
"Is that how you think of yourself?"
"It's what I am."
Remus watched as Professor McGonagall sighed deeply, her shoulders sagging slightly, and he did squirm in his chair then. He didn't dare look up when she leaned over him, her hands firm on his shoulders, forcing him to meet her eyes.
"You are so much more than that, Remus. It is a part of you, to be sure, as much as you are a good student, a good friend, and a good son. The Ministry may struggle with their policies, but you are a Wizard, and their decisions have little bearing on that." Professor McGonagall straightened up and looked down at him before she nodded once, and returned to her chair. She offered him the tin again, shaking them slightly when he would turn it down. Once he was nibbling on a biscuit again, a ginger newt this time, she refreshed her tea. It was several minutes before Remus gathered his courage enough to speak again.
"What about the Ministry?"
"Professor Dumbledore and I have already spoke with your father this morning. As long as you are a student at Hogwarts, you will not be registering. When you come of age, you can make that decision for yourself. Maybe by then people with sense will have ousted others like that despicable Umbridge woman, and these ridiculous laws will have been overturned."
***
Later, Remus was tucked up alone in a cubby beneath the stairs leading to the owlery. It had been an easier fit when he was eleven but he was sure the other boys didn't know about it and he'd been careful not to mark it on his still frustratingly incomplete parchment map. He wasn't ready to see them yet, James and Sirius, and so sat in the dark with nothing but a Lumos charm that spread a weak light from the tip of his wand. He'd thought about owling his dad but couldn't form the questions to ask about the things Professor McGonagall hadn't said. Instead, he sat cross legged in the dusty space, cob webs in his hair, his pieced together map flat on the floor in front of him and his cartography book in his lap.
"It took me hours to find you. It's nearly past dinner."
Remus blinked in the sudden flood of light as Sirius pushed open the door to his last good hiding spot, but didn't bother to say he hadn't wanted to be found. It was Sirius, after all, and a statement like that would bring more questions than quiet.
"I'm not hungry."
"You barely ate breakfast and picked at your lunch."
Remus only shrugged in answer, staring at Sirius owlishly until Sirius huffed at him and looked away.
"What are you doing anyway?"
"Reading." Remus lifted his book to show Sirius the cover.
"You've read it a thousand times. And why in here?"
"It has this geovisualization charm that I've tried but it's not working. I've missed something. I was just trying to figure it out." Remus poked at his map with the tip of his wand. It was a bit of a mess from being handled and rolled up, hidden in his trunk or the bottom of his bag. He wanted to trace it out again on a clean sheet of parchment but couldn't waste what he had left. It would have to wait until summer, and then he thought maybe his dad could help him.
"What's it supposed to do?"
"Tell me where I am on the map."
"But you know where you are."
"Not just me. It would should where you are, or Peter and James."
"You usually know where we are."
"I know, but I want to see it on the map. I want the map to tell me."
"I don't understand."
"Maps make sense. They can't lie and they can't hurt you. They just." Remus stopped, embarrassed by his outburst and by the way Sirius was watching him. He pushed the book and his map away, tossing down his wand, and drew his knees up to his chest.
"I just want it to make sense," he said miserably, rubbing his fists over his face. "I just want everything to make sense."
"Budge up," Sirius said, pushing Remus' shoulder as Sirius crawled into the cubby with him and practically on top of him. He pulled the door shut, plunging them back into darkness. Leaning back against Remus, he drew out his wand and whispered Lumos. Remus drew himself up tight, turning his face away from the light of Sirius' wand, but Sirius ignored him for the moment, reaching for the book.
"Do you have to register?"
"What?"
"I read the article in The Prophet." Sirius picked up Remus' wand and tapped it on the map. When nothing happened, he flipped some more pages in the book. "James figured it was something in the paper that upset you so I lifted a copy from Evans."
"Do James and Peter know?"
"James does, but we haven't told Peter."
"Do you have to?"
"No, not if you don't want us to." Sirius was quiet for a few moments, reading, and Remus watched him. The cubby really was too small for both boys and Remus tried to make himself as small as possible but Sirius didn't seem to mind that Remus' elbow was poking him in the side. After a while, Sirius took up Remus' quill and leaned forward to scratch some lines on the map and then picked up Remus' wand again. "What did McGonagall have to say?"
Remus shrugged though Sirius didn't see him. "She just wanted to talk."
"She must have had something to say about it."
"My dad and Professor Dumbledore don't want me to register until I leave Hogwarts, but the article said there would be a fine and that they could hold me."
"We won't let them." Remus looked up at Sirius, disbelieving, and worried his bottom lip between his teeth. Sirius turned when Remus didn't say anything and smiled at him before turning back to the map. "We won't. You have to trust me."
"I do, but there's a Werewolf Capture Unit now. What if--"
"Nobody's going to take you because nobody's going to know."
"You figured it out, you and James and Peter."
"Me and James. We're exceptionally bright, McGonagall said that once, remember."
Remus did but they weren't meant to have heard it at all. Both James and Sirius liked to say it, imitating her heavy brogue, when they feel they've executed some particularly spectacular prank. "But--"
"Stop thinking about it, Remus. Nobody is going to take you from us," he added more quietly. "Look."
Sirius waved his own wand over the map and a tiny flag floated across the top, which was unmarked territory except for Sirius' rough sketch--the owlery, where they were hidden.
"There. You'll at least know where I am." Sirius looked over his shoulder and grinned at Remus, and Remus couldn't help but smile back at him until it was too much, until his eyes swam with tears and his stomach flopped in a funny way. Sirius thankfully turned back to the map then, tapping it until he got it to show Remus as well. For a while, Remus just stared at the two little flags until he finally leaned in and pressed his cheek against Sirius' shoulder, and Sirius let him, sitting very still for a long time.
next
Author: Dani (
escribo)
Word Count: 3446
Rating: PG
(Pairings: in the future will be remus/sirius, lily/james)
Timeline: April 16 (Monday) 1973
Summary: Remus gets some disturbing news and Sirius helps him make sense of it all
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. I've not made nor seek any profit.
Year 1: one/ two/ three/ four/ five/ six/ seven
Year 2: one/ two/ three
To begin with, it had promised to be a bad day. Remus didn't get much sleep the night before, and what little he managed just after dawn was disturbed by James and Sirius' bickering. Then Peter and Remus were late to breakfast because Peter couldn't find his transfiguration essay and wouldn't leave without it, and wouldn't let Remus leave without him. It took them nearly a quarter hour of searching before Peter remembered he'd left it in the common room, this after Remus had asked him twice if he'd looked there.
By the time they found it, James and Sirius had made up in their easy way and long left them for the Great Hall, where Remus and Peter found them thinking up rude rhymes for a new prank. Remus almost immediately regretted showing them the repeating charm he'd read about, though he knew he should have known better. He ignored both of them in favor of hurriedly downing his porridge, which he drowned in a slurry of maple syrup, and took up James' discarded Daily Prophet that the Potters had sent to him though Remus knew he only ever read the box scores for Quidditch.
Remus was hoping for a crossword puzzle when he ran across a small article buried on the bottom of the third page that stopped him, spoon frozen halfway to his mouth.
One day before the full moon, the Ministry of Magic announced the passage of some long expected legislation that will provide for the expansion of the Werewolf Registry.
"These measures are necessary to protect the Wizarding population against a recent onslaught of shocking werewolf attacks,” says Junior Assistant Undersecretary to the Werewolf Management Registrar, Deloris Umbridge. "We've been under constant attack for too long and must take all necessary steps now to protect ourselves from these ravening beasts before it's too late. No one is safe."
The legislation also expands the budget of the Beast Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures to create a Werewolf Capture Unit, to be headed by Walden MacNair, a former warden of the Azkaban Prison. This new sub-department will be regulated by the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, which will determine when a werewolf is to be deemed dangerous as well as the type of punishment to be meted out.
The Werewolf Registry was originally established in 1947 by Newton Scamander, respected magizoologist and author of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. It remained voluntary until a recent rash of werewolf attacks in London forced the Ministry to review current policies after an outcry from the public. Werewolves will now be required to register their current location, next of kin, and in return will receive a registration number. Werewolves found in violation of the new registration rules will be detained for ten days in an approved Ministry detention center and fined up to 500 galleons.
“There have been relatively few reports of werewolf bites in the last quarter century and only ten confirmed cases of lycanthropy in the last five years," Mr. Scamander said from his office in the Dragon Research and Restraint Bureau when reached for comment last night. "Our efforts should be spent on treatment and management of the disease, rather than overprotective measures meant to strip werewolves of their rights and extend Ministry control."
Ministry officials disagree, however. “The werewolves have unquestionably declared war on the Wizarding world and we must take no chances,” Ms. Umbridge said. “Once we’ve identified a werewolf as dangerous, it is our duty henceforth to destroy the beast and protect our children. The Werewolf Capture Unit will be authorized to use lethal force once the Committee has identified a threat.” (For a full list of known werewolves turn to page 12).
Alongside the article was a picture of a squat woman with a dinner plate sized pink bow quivering atop her tightly curled hair. She blinked up at Remus with a toothy smile and he felt a little sick looking at her. He put down his spoon and pushed away his bowl, stuck on the words lethal force, and sat up straighter on the bench. His mind went toward images of being hunted through the Forbidden Forest, of being held in a cage Merlin knows where, he remembered Professor McGonagall saying, and wondered what Azkaban would be like. He gave a shudder when Sirius put his hand on his shoulder, his grin suggesting that Remus should be laughing along with whatever joke he'd just said.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Remus said a little too quickly, not daring to look again at either James or Sirius, not trusting himself.
James reached for the paper Remus still held in his hand and Remus snatched it back, standing up too fast and upsetting his goblet of milk. He used his napkin to sop up what he could of the spill before he gave it up as a bad job.
"It's nothing," he said as he shoved the paper into his bag. "We're going to be late."
James and Sirius both narrowed their eyes at him before they looked at each other. Remus turned away, not wanting to see anymore, and headed out the doors before they could catch up.
Usually Remus loved his classes, even Potions, but all that morning he was distracted, by the article, by the way James and Sirius kept shooting him sympathetic looks because they'd finally remembered it was near the full moon. It was better than them knowing the truth, he thought, and kept his eyes straight ahead to where Professor Slughorn was lecturing, and eventually Sirius stopped trying to get his attention.
Remus hadn't looked at the listing of other werewolves, half afraid that he'd find his own name on it. He couldn't actually remember the time before he'd been bitten, except as snatches of playing barefoot in an overgrown garden or sipping from his dad's cup of tea early one morning. Even the night he was bit was lost to a haze of pain and the medications that had kept him alive. He was glad he couldn't remember it and he never tried too hard, but that meant all his memories, all his experiences, were as a werewolf, and he hated that, especially now that he knew other boys who didn't have that burden. He didn't resent them, he thought, he really didn't, but he couldn't help but envy them.
By the end of that afternoon's Transfiguration class, Remus was in knots about the article, about the moon, about his dismal performance in transfiguring a beetle into a pin cushion, practically first year stuff that even Peter managed with some ease. Worse still was when he spilled his brand new ink well, the last in his trunk, staining his ragged cuffs. Professor McGonagall had set a comforting hand on his shoulder then, which made him feel worse, and for the rest of the class he itched to be somewhere, anywhere he couldn't see the pitying looks, real or imagined.
"Mr. Lupin?" It was Professor McGonagall's voice that pulled him from his thoughts, realizing that he'd sat a moment too long after they'd been dismissed and the other students were already filing from the room. He kept his head down, his eyes never leaving the beetle that slowly crossed the morass of drying ink on the scarred table top, almost escaping until he nudged it with the tip of his wand.
"Remus," she tried this time. "Would you come with me to my office, please? I'd like to have a word."
"Yes, ma'am." Remus quickly shouldered his bag, eager to get this over with, and followed her to her office. He refused to look to where James, Sirius, and Peter stood in the hall waiting for him, and was perversely grateful when Professor McGonagall dispersed them with a sharp word.
Inside her office, Professor McGonagall lifted the lid from a tartan tin, offering a biscuit to Remus as she poured them each a cup of tea. Remus politely took a piece of shortbread, remembering his manners enough not to fidget in his chair, and nibbled on the edge of his sweet though he found he couldn't swallow. His thoughts had gone again to the article, and he wondered about the registration number and if he'd have to carry a card of some sort, to be surrendered when asked, he supposed. Setting down his biscuit, Remus sat back in his chair and twisted his fingers together, suddenly remembering the Muggle passport that had his picture and his name inside for when they traveled over the Channel in search of cures that didn't actually exist.
"There was an article in this morning's Daily Prophet," Professor McGonagall said, cutting through his memories of charlatans and pain and his mother's tears. "It's what I wanted to talk to you about."
"I saw James'."
"Then you know."
"Yes, ma'am. Have there been many attacks?"
"All so far unconfirmed. The Headmaster has sent an owl to Professor Scamander, who believes it's all nothing more than fear mongering." Professor McGonagall sipped at her tea, the porcelain cup covered in a delicate pattern of rosebuds and ivy. Setting it back down in its saucer, Professor McGonagall turned the cup three times before she spoke again. "The registry has served its purpose for many year in identifying potential dangers to wizards infected with lycanthropy and those not."
"They wouldn't always know, though, right? I mean, when I was bit my father didn't report it to the Ministry. They were afraid I'd be taken from them." Remus finally looked up at Professor McGonagall. He saw something like dread cross over her features, like some shadow of a deep sadness, he thought, though it was gone as quickly as it had come.
"No, the list doesn't account for everyone, and it doesn't list Muggles who are bitten because they are much less likely to survive. Their deaths are often reported as accidents and the Ministry has no clear knowledge of their numbers."
"Even wizards aren't likely to survive, my dad said. He said we were blessed because I lived when most die, especially because I was so young." With an ache settled deep into the very core of his bones as the tide of the moon swung ever closer and no parents near to soothe away the pain and whisper how very much wanted he was, Remus choked on his words. He bit his lip to keep from saying anything more, and looked down at his shoes, at his frayed laces.
"You are very much blessed, Remus." Professor McGonagall abandoned her chair and crossed to the tall windows that looked out over the courtyard. Dark gray clouds, heavy with rain, darkened the sky. She was quiet for so long that Remus jumped, startled, when she spoke again. "There are forces at work here, which I cannot explain."
"Voldemort?"
Professor McGonagall twisted to look at him, her hand clenching on the heavy curtains as a small gasp escaped her lips.
"Where did you hear that name?" She asked, her voice shaking.
"I've heard some of the older boys talking. They said it may come to war but I don't understand with who. The werewolves? Is he a werewolf, too?"
"It is not to be repeated, that name."
Remus saw the sadness again in Professor McGonagall, around her eyes and her mouth, even though her voice carried the same brusqueness as when she was handing out detentions to Sirius and James. Still, it was there and reminded him rather painfully of his mother. For a moment, he could hear her voice, just a scrap of an old nursery rhyme, with moonbeam windows and with wheels of stars, hush my little one and have no fear. He wished he could remember the rest.
"I won't," he finally said, but she had already turned from him.
It took several more long minutes before she shook herself from whatever memory held her and Remus studied her--her ramrod straight back and broad shoulders, her black hair pulled tight into a bun at the nape of her neck and dark blue eyes that could be stern or kind, depending on her mood. When she turned back to him, she had drawn herself up very tall and clasped her hands tightly.
"You're safe here, Remus," she said, no trace of emotion left in her voice. "If you were to register, everyone here and abroad would know about your condition."
"I couldn't stay."
"Professor Dumbledore would never ask you to leave, and I would never allow it in any case, but life could certainly become more difficult."
"But they would pressure him. You. The parents." Remus couldn't bring himself to mention Sirius' mother. "It would be open season on the werewolf."
"Is that how you think of yourself?"
"It's what I am."
Remus watched as Professor McGonagall sighed deeply, her shoulders sagging slightly, and he did squirm in his chair then. He didn't dare look up when she leaned over him, her hands firm on his shoulders, forcing him to meet her eyes.
"You are so much more than that, Remus. It is a part of you, to be sure, as much as you are a good student, a good friend, and a good son. The Ministry may struggle with their policies, but you are a Wizard, and their decisions have little bearing on that." Professor McGonagall straightened up and looked down at him before she nodded once, and returned to her chair. She offered him the tin again, shaking them slightly when he would turn it down. Once he was nibbling on a biscuit again, a ginger newt this time, she refreshed her tea. It was several minutes before Remus gathered his courage enough to speak again.
"What about the Ministry?"
"Professor Dumbledore and I have already spoke with your father this morning. As long as you are a student at Hogwarts, you will not be registering. When you come of age, you can make that decision for yourself. Maybe by then people with sense will have ousted others like that despicable Umbridge woman, and these ridiculous laws will have been overturned."
***
Later, Remus was tucked up alone in a cubby beneath the stairs leading to the owlery. It had been an easier fit when he was eleven but he was sure the other boys didn't know about it and he'd been careful not to mark it on his still frustratingly incomplete parchment map. He wasn't ready to see them yet, James and Sirius, and so sat in the dark with nothing but a Lumos charm that spread a weak light from the tip of his wand. He'd thought about owling his dad but couldn't form the questions to ask about the things Professor McGonagall hadn't said. Instead, he sat cross legged in the dusty space, cob webs in his hair, his pieced together map flat on the floor in front of him and his cartography book in his lap.
"It took me hours to find you. It's nearly past dinner."
Remus blinked in the sudden flood of light as Sirius pushed open the door to his last good hiding spot, but didn't bother to say he hadn't wanted to be found. It was Sirius, after all, and a statement like that would bring more questions than quiet.
"I'm not hungry."
"You barely ate breakfast and picked at your lunch."
Remus only shrugged in answer, staring at Sirius owlishly until Sirius huffed at him and looked away.
"What are you doing anyway?"
"Reading." Remus lifted his book to show Sirius the cover.
"You've read it a thousand times. And why in here?"
"It has this geovisualization charm that I've tried but it's not working. I've missed something. I was just trying to figure it out." Remus poked at his map with the tip of his wand. It was a bit of a mess from being handled and rolled up, hidden in his trunk or the bottom of his bag. He wanted to trace it out again on a clean sheet of parchment but couldn't waste what he had left. It would have to wait until summer, and then he thought maybe his dad could help him.
"What's it supposed to do?"
"Tell me where I am on the map."
"But you know where you are."
"Not just me. It would should where you are, or Peter and James."
"You usually know where we are."
"I know, but I want to see it on the map. I want the map to tell me."
"I don't understand."
"Maps make sense. They can't lie and they can't hurt you. They just." Remus stopped, embarrassed by his outburst and by the way Sirius was watching him. He pushed the book and his map away, tossing down his wand, and drew his knees up to his chest.
"I just want it to make sense," he said miserably, rubbing his fists over his face. "I just want everything to make sense."
"Budge up," Sirius said, pushing Remus' shoulder as Sirius crawled into the cubby with him and practically on top of him. He pulled the door shut, plunging them back into darkness. Leaning back against Remus, he drew out his wand and whispered Lumos. Remus drew himself up tight, turning his face away from the light of Sirius' wand, but Sirius ignored him for the moment, reaching for the book.
"Do you have to register?"
"What?"
"I read the article in The Prophet." Sirius picked up Remus' wand and tapped it on the map. When nothing happened, he flipped some more pages in the book. "James figured it was something in the paper that upset you so I lifted a copy from Evans."
"Do James and Peter know?"
"James does, but we haven't told Peter."
"Do you have to?"
"No, not if you don't want us to." Sirius was quiet for a few moments, reading, and Remus watched him. The cubby really was too small for both boys and Remus tried to make himself as small as possible but Sirius didn't seem to mind that Remus' elbow was poking him in the side. After a while, Sirius took up Remus' quill and leaned forward to scratch some lines on the map and then picked up Remus' wand again. "What did McGonagall have to say?"
Remus shrugged though Sirius didn't see him. "She just wanted to talk."
"She must have had something to say about it."
"My dad and Professor Dumbledore don't want me to register until I leave Hogwarts, but the article said there would be a fine and that they could hold me."
"We won't let them." Remus looked up at Sirius, disbelieving, and worried his bottom lip between his teeth. Sirius turned when Remus didn't say anything and smiled at him before turning back to the map. "We won't. You have to trust me."
"I do, but there's a Werewolf Capture Unit now. What if--"
"Nobody's going to take you because nobody's going to know."
"You figured it out, you and James and Peter."
"Me and James. We're exceptionally bright, McGonagall said that once, remember."
Remus did but they weren't meant to have heard it at all. Both James and Sirius liked to say it, imitating her heavy brogue, when they feel they've executed some particularly spectacular prank. "But--"
"Stop thinking about it, Remus. Nobody is going to take you from us," he added more quietly. "Look."
Sirius waved his own wand over the map and a tiny flag floated across the top, which was unmarked territory except for Sirius' rough sketch--the owlery, where they were hidden.
"There. You'll at least know where I am." Sirius looked over his shoulder and grinned at Remus, and Remus couldn't help but smile back at him until it was too much, until his eyes swam with tears and his stomach flopped in a funny way. Sirius thankfully turned back to the map then, tapping it until he got it to show Remus as well. For a while, Remus just stared at the two little flags until he finally leaned in and pressed his cheek against Sirius' shoulder, and Sirius let him, sitting very still for a long time.
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Great fic, can't wait for year 3!
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Thanks for reading. I'm glad you enjoyed it!
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Thanks for reading!
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I'm always very interested in how each writer chooses to map out the evolution and inner-workings of werewolf laws, so I'm glad to see you've gone and mentioned that. I also liked how Sirius would just work on Remus's map, no protests or anything, just working, and how their ideas and skills combined sparked the beginning of their legendary map.
Nice. :)
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Wow. I'm rambling! ehehe Anyway, thank you so much for the comment. I'm glad you're reading :D
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I also love how you make the fic feel so real, like that if you really made this world yourself with the news paper article for example.