Professor Remus J. Lupin (galarusblaidd) wrote in breaking_point, @ 2009-11-09 12:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | *complete, 2024 11, character: remus lupin |
RP: Take the Hit, Not the Fall
Who: Remus Lupin (solo)
Where: Godric's Hollow
When: Monday, 9 November 2024
Warnings: None
Summary: Remus gets in some practice
In addition to giving him back a sense of self in this new world, reading his journals had woken Remus up to the realization that he was being foolish in his offers to help Harry with Voldemort and the Map. Like his father had done with the numerous experiments to try and cure Remus' condition, Remus had kept a record in his journal of spells and charms and other bits of magic he came across in his travels that he wanted to remember. There were entire entries devoted to examining particular runic combinations if used in conjunction with basic protection charms, or recording obscure spells he'd picked up in whatever country he'd been in at the time -- and it looked like he'd gone a few more places in between nineteen eighty-eight and nineteen ninety-three when Dumbledore finally tracked him down.
But, the point was that he was sadly behind on his own knowledge. He'd read his own journals with incredulity as he realized that final battle had been the only one he'd even been seriously injured during. To have fought a second, even more clandestine, war and come out of skirmishes that left the likes of Moody injured and Sirius dead was nothing short of miraculous. But, somehow he had.
Which meant he'd picked up a hell of a lot more during his later travels than he'd yet accumulated. No amateur at combat and survival, Remus knew he had a lot to work on before he was up to the level he'd been and needed to be at again soon if yesterday's adventure with the boys' curse had been any indication. The house had been so tense it had been impossible to sleep, even if he stayed in his room -- which of course he hadn't, wanting to make sure he was needed first.
Then there was Harry's insistence Remus should teach again. Although it hadn't been mentioned again since Remus' own imposed deadline of the Full -- mostly, Remus suspected, because the rest of Harry's life was spinning off-kilter with his father's return and his son's illness -- Remus had thought about it quite a bit, which was one more reason for him to get his own skills back up to par in a hurry. If he was going to even consider taking the responsibility for teaching youngsters Lily and Alex's age or younger to defend themselves in what was surely shaping up to be the Wizarding World's next major conflict, he needed to be at the top of his own game.
Today he was going back into training. It hadn't seemed as necessary when he was drifting through the worst of the lycanthropic underworld. Being alive was proof enough he'd kept up enough of his skills to survive there. Now he needed the skills to survive the wizarding world.
And he didn't want to be too far from the house the next couple days in case Harry needed him. James' son had done enough to help Remus get back on his feet. The least Remus could do in return was be here if something came up -- maniac dead relatives trying to break the gates down, for instance!
So, Monday morning found Remus once more in the back garden, only instead of weeding he was running target practice drills. Mostly he kept himself to a bit of a light show, no spells, simply sending sparks of color at various objects in the garden. He'd save the potentially harmful spells for when he found some place to practice away from the house.
Right now, he just wanted to get well used to the quirks of his new wand.
Oak, 11-inches, phoenix feather core, it certainly packed more of a punch than his old one had. Hazel, 9-inches, with a core of dragon's heart-string, Remus' old wand had been a good general purpose wand for a werewolf trying to control his mind when his body was so out of control. This new one, however, was more suited to who he was now. The phoenix feather had amused him, being returned from the dead and all. The oak, a wand tree very definitely rooted in Defense lore, had surprised him. He supposed it fit, given that his journals confirmed that everything his future self had done was, at it's core, done to protect and defend someone else -- first Harry, then Ted and Nymphadora. But, now, casting spells with an eye toward combat and defense, he could feel the subtle differences in the energy, the minute changes of force that shifted not with the type of magic he was casting, as his old wand had, but with intent.
Satisfied his aim was steady as it had ever been, Remus pulled out his journal and flipped through until he'd found the entries which had started him thinking about working on his skills in the first place -- the private lessons with Harry to teach him how to cast the Patronus Charm.
He hadn't thought about that particular spell in years. It hadn't been one he needed and he'd never managed a corporeal Patronus anyway. His misty, shapeless form had seemed enough to be going on with after the war and was enough to deal with the occasional dementor he might find in out of the way places in his travels. After reading the lessons with Harry, though, he felt he should give it some more attention. Clearly Harry had done well enough, casting a corporeal Patronus at age thirteen!
Remus' problem had always been that any happy memories he had were tainted by fear and doubt because of his curse. He hadn't been remotely joking when he had told Ted faith was hard to come by in his experience. Yet, for some reason, in this time almost everyone Remus had met in this time, from Harry to Ted to Lily, even an Auror who didn't truly know him beyond a year spent as his student, seemed to have more faith in Remus than Remus had ever had in himself.
They were all of them being given a second chance at the lives they should have had the first time. Who was Remus to waste that opportunity wallowing in, or worse, repeating, old mistakes?
Taking a deep breath, he once more reviewed his own instructions he had once given Harry and then put the journal back into the back pocket of his denims. He'd taken his shirt off a while earlier, forgoing modesty in the interest of intensity for training. Now he looked down at the scars tracing faint lines over his arms and chest, reminding himself why this was important, what the scars truly meant beyond the darkness that lived inside him.
A happy memory. The strongest and purest experience of joy he could recall. That had been what he told Harry and it was what he told himself now. He didn't have a Boggart on hand to practice on as Harry had. But, he would have to do the best he could without as he always had.
Of course, the chances the boggart would have changed to anything but the Full Moon for him were unlikely.
First, he tested the best memory he'd had before leaving England -- the day his friends had revealed their own secret and what they had done for him. Closing his eyes, he could still see it, still see three fresh-faced boys with wicked grins changing before his eyes into dog, stag, and rat. He let the memory fill him, relived the moment as if he was once again that bewildered teenager who couldn't believe his own luck at finding such friends. As the memory warmed him, he opened his eyes, holding that feeling, and cast the spell.
Expecto Patronum!
A pure white mist burst out of the end of his wand, brighter than it had been before, but still indistinct, a vaguely formed shape that really could have been anything and led the mind to play tricks trying to make the shape make some logical sense. Sighing, Remus dismissed it and tried again.
Three more tries, three more indistinct mists, like watercolor left in the rains.
Leaning against the outer wall, Remus sat for a moment, using his shirt to wipe at the sweat rivulets running down his back and chest from the hours he'd already been out there practicing. Raking one hand through his matted hair, he mentally examined what he'd just done.
The memory was still strong. The spell felt even stronger, though if that was due to the new wand, something new within himself, or something else bore looking at. He supposed it was partly because the memory wasn't tinged with the bitterness it had been over the last seven years. He'd been reunited with James and Sirius through the unlikeliest of circumstances. He wasn't left to mourn, any longer.
Of course, there was still anger when he thought of Peter, especially after their meeting a week or more ago. That would work counter to the needs of the spell, perhaps blocking it from further effectiveness than he'd already mastered.
Well, that had been the reason for the experiment. He wanted to compare "old" Remus and "new" Remus.
Pushing back up to his feet, he tossed his shirt aside once more and retook his practice stance. He had another memory he wanted to try, a new one, a memory he'd never believed possible before.
Closing his eyes, Remus brought to mind the Weasleys' orchard, he saw the twilight burnish the leaves a golden red, heard the call of songbirds, felt the damp earth beneath his feet. He pictured what it must have looked like to any observer watching Moony and Ted chase amoung the trees, remembered the sense of comfort and belonging that surrounded them as they lay side by side later in the evening. More than anything else, he remembered the burst of emotion in his own chest when he heard his son call him 'Dad' for the first time.
Remus eyes snapped open at the last and he nearly shouting the incantation with the force of his own remembered joy.
Expecto Patronum!!
The force of light erupting from his wand this time was noticeably stronger than before. Remus felt it like a warm tingle all down his wand arm. This was more than a mist. It was solid, held clear mass. There was a shape trying to form, it was clearer now, quadruped, although that could still be anything.
Dismissing the spell, Remus smiled.
That was better. Still not corporeal, but closer than he'd ever come to anything like it before. The memory was the key. He knew he'd never been happier at any point in his life than that moment with Ted. If he was going to give this new life the chance it deserved, he would hopefully have a few more memories just like that one before he was done.
Slipping his wand back into the holster, he picked up his shirt and turned to go back into the house. He'd get cleaned up and see if he could be any help getting lunch ready.
Then maybe he'd see how far he could push some of his other skills now that he knew the possibilities.