rakina (rakina) wrote in snape_potter, @ 2009-03-26 21:24:00 |
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Current mood: | creative |
Entry tags: | fic, rakina, rating: pg |
FIC: Tapestry, by Rakina, PG, chapter 10/?
Title: Tapestry, A Journey in Eight Stages
Author: Rakina
Rating: PG for now, probably rising to R or NC17 later.
Summary: Harry only has one thing from his parents: a blanket. But his mum and dad were magical, and so it turns out to be no ordinary blanket, after all.
Beta: A very big thank you to a new beta for me, keyairreem, who managed to prevent me abusing any more poor ole' semicolons. *blushes*
Disclaimer: I am not making any money from the characters which belong to JK Rowling. No disrespect intended. I do, however, lay claim to the plot and original characters.
Note: Tapestry is still in Stage 2 of the 8-stage journey. Just in case you're wondering when Snape will come along. Harry's only 13 here, but he will be along soon, I promise.
Previous chapters are here.
Chapter 10: Clabberts' Bane
Harry, Liam, Sid and Hermione decided to visit Hagrid during their lunch break. The half-giant had been really upset at breakfast time, although none of them were surprised when they learned from one of the Hufflepuff fifth years what had happened. The girl told them that the bundle Hagrid had carried to the High Table was the body of one of his clabberts.
"It was horrible," she'd told them. "There was blood on the blanket and I caught sight of its face as he passed. Its head was almost ripped off."
Harry felt ill as he exchanged horrified looks with his friends.
"Who would want to do such a thing?" Hermione asked faintly as they walked towards Hagrid's hut.
"Someone who hates Hagrid, perhaps," Liam suggested.
"Malfoy?" Sid asked dubiously.
"Of course Malfoy! He hates Hagrid; he's always complaining about having him for a teacher. He keeps getting his dad to kick up a stink about it in the Prophet or at the Ministry. Dumbledore's had a really hard time defending his appointment."
Harry nodded. "I know that, but I don't think Malfoy did this. I just don't think it's his style. He's more likely to burn Hagrid's hut down or let all his animals out. Besides, Draco's friends liked the clabberts too."
"Do you mean Parkinson?" Liam asked. "Why would Malfoy care about what she thinks?"
Harry turned and looked Liam in the eye. "For the same reason you'd care what Hermione thinks, Liam."
Hermione blushed, Liam looked flustered and Sid nodded. "You're right, Harry. We've got to look somewhere else for the murderer."
"You can't murder animals, Sid," Hermione objected. "Murder is a crime against humans only."
"You might be correct as far as language is concerned, Hermione," Harry said, "but I reckon Sid has it right all the same."
Once at the hut, they knocked on Hagrid's door but it didn't open; all they heard in reply was a muffled sniffling sound. Because it came from such a large nose, however, it could be clearly heard.
"Come on, Hagrid, let us in!" Harry cried.
"Leave me alone!"
"We're not going away until you do," Harry insisted. He hoped Hagrid wouldn't call their bluff; they only had limited time during lunch break. Thankfully, he didn't, as moments later the door swung open.
Hagrid stood there, his eyes puffy and red-veined, his large nose equally red. The half-giant rubbed a huge spotted handkerchief over his rosy nose, his sniffles sounding like a whole pod of whales spouting. "S'pose yeh'd best come in then," he said grudgingly, but Harry could tell he was secretly pleased to see them.
The friends sat themselves on Hagrid's dining chairs around his tall, circular table. Harry felt a long way off the ground. "We're sorry about your clabbert," he began.
"Clabbert? Clabbert?" Hagrid asked, voice rising. "It weren' jus' one clabbert, Harry, it was the whole lot of 'em!"
Hermione gasped in horror and Sid gulped. Liam put his arm around Hermione's shoulder in support. Harry looked at Hagrid in horror. "Oh, Merlin. I'm even sorrier then. What happened to them?"
"Well if I knew that I'd sort it out, wouldn' I?" Hagrid snapped. It was very unlike him and a measure of his anguish to take it out on them.
"I suppose you would," Harry muttered.
"What sort of creature could have got into the magical cage?" Hermione asked. "Wasn't it warded?"
"Well o' course it was warded; but whatever did it was either fiendishly powerful, or someone let it in!"
"Who would do that?" Sid asked, outraged.
Hagrid rolled his eyes causing fresh tears to fall which he dabbed at with the already sopping hanky. Harry fumbled in his pocket and offered his own to the big man. Hagrid took it with a muttered 'thanks.' It looked wholly inadequate for the job of soaking up his tears, let alone having his nose blown on it.
Hermione looked thoughtful, as if she was about to come up with an answer. No one spoke for a while. Hagrid buried his head in his hands and blubbered a bit more. Finally, Hermione spoke. "It was the full moon last night, Hagrid," she said. "Did a werewolf come out of the forest, perhaps?"
Harry felt like rolling his own eyes now. Everyone was always quick to blame the werewolves for everything. Hagrid saved him from answering though.
"They can't come out here, Hermione, you know that. The grounds of Hogwarts are warded and the clabbert enclosure was inside the wards. No, it wasn't no werewolf, though I have ter say the poor lil clabberts' bodies did look like it coulda been. Hogwarts is safe though, even if the rest o' the country's in fear o' werewolves."
Liam muttered, "Not to mention vampires. Though this wasn't them either, I suppose."
Harry felt a cold finger running down his spine as he thought of the dreadful moments when something got into the castle grounds, broke into the clabbert enclosure, and killed and mutilated all the adorable little creatures there.
The friends stayed as long as they could, trying to comfort Hagrid with their condolences and their presence, but all too soon they had to head back to the castle.
Walking back, Harry was quiet, his mind racing somewhere he didn't really want it to go. Finally he said, "Those clabberts were like monkeys, nearly human. You said yourself how much they looked like babies, Hermione. It might just be a coincidence that it happened on the might of the full moon, but it might not. I propose that next full moon we stake-out Hagrid's cabin and see if we can find out something."
"Spend the night outside, are you mental?" Liam shrieked. Sid's eyes were as large as saucers. Hermione, however, seemed to be considering the proposal. Liam looked at her warily. "You're not considering it, are you, 'Mione?"
"We'll never find out anything otherwise. And you heard Hagrid; it's safe within the wards. If it weren't, those werewolves and vampires would have been in by now. No, the culprit must have come from within. Which means it's a person, not a monster."
Sid's eyes got even wider. "But Hermione, who would want to do such a thing?"
"Malfoy," Liam said stubbornly. Harry hissed in exasperation. "No! Look, Malfoy's a prat, but I can't see him doing that. It's pointless guessing; we've no idea. There's only one way to find out: by joining me on the next full moon."
With varying degrees of enthusiasm and trepidation, it was agreed.
"Bloody hell," Liam groused as they slipped out of the castle into the brightly moonlit grounds in the middle of the night as the moon had risen late. "If we're caught out this late we'll be expelled."
"Oh, shut up," Harry snapped. "We all agreed to do this. It's no good getting cold feet now."
Sid let out a little moan, but they all continued tramping towards Hagrid's hut, moving as stealthily as they could. Luckily the pathway was lined by shrubbery at intervals, which allowed them to remain hidden for most of the journey by staying crouched down and moving along in an odd, shuffling walk.
"It's a good job it's not the middle of winter," Hermione observed. "The temperature's quite mild this time of year."
"Still cold enough this late at night," Liam grumbled. "I wish I'd brought my gloves."
"Oh belt up!" Harry hissed. "We don't want to let anyone know we're coming. They might be creeping about down there already."
Everyone jumped as an eerie howl split the silence of the night. Until now the werewolves had been quiet.
"I tell you," Liam said, "that howl is too close for it to be in the forest."
"Of course it's in the forest," Hermione hissed at him, lifting her finger to her lips in a shushing gesture. "It simply sounds a lot louder because we're outdoors."
Harry blessed Hermione's logic, but he could understand Liam's twitchiness as the howl had sounded very close indeed.
"There's the hut," Sid said quietly as they rounded a bend in the pathway.
Hagrid's hut looked picturesque in the moonlight, like an illustration from a fairytale the rustic cabin nestled against the tree line.
"We need to get behind it where we can't be spotted from the castle," Harry directed. "That's where the clabberts' cage is, and that's where Hagrid keeps his other beasts."
The others nodded, peering out from the line of hedges at the edge of the path. "The only problem," Liam pointed out, "is that there's no bushes or trees between here and there."
"We'll just have to do it as quickly as we can and hope we're not spotted," Harry advised. "I'll go first and you follow me one by one."
"No!" Hermione hissed urgently. "We've less chance of being spotted if we go together and get it over with."
Harry frowned, but seeing the sense of that, he nodded. "Right. On three. One, two... Three!"
They legged it over the patch of open ground, disappearing round the back of the hut by the shortest route possible. Panting, the friends hunkered down behind Hagrid's enormous compost heap. "Phew!" Harry said, "Thank Merlin we weren't caught."
"Hush!" Hermione said. "Let's make sure. Wait a bit. Someone might come yet."
"You're always so optimistic, Hermione," Liam grumbled. Sid sniggered.
They did wait, but nobody came either to discover them or to attack the animal pens, which the friends could see in the near distance.
"My legs ache squatting like this," Liam complained after a while. "This is boring,"
"What? I can't believe you!" Harry said. "Aren't the werewolves howling or the sight of the vampires flying around exciting enough for you?"
"Well, I've sort of got used to the howling," Liam admitted. "We've heard it every month since we've been here, and Hagrid was right, they can't get in. As for the vampires, they're way off down there." He gestured to the right where the wispy forms of the flying vampires could intermittently be seen against the moonlit backdrop of the trees.
"First you don't want to come because it's too dangerous, now you're bored," Harry said disbelievingly. "There's no satisfying you."
Sid sniggered again, but he stopped abruptly. "What was that?"
"What?"
"That... snuffling."
"It was you, sniggering," Hermione pointed out.
"It was not, it was something behind us."
The friends looked nervously behind them, back towards the direction of the castle. There was nothing standing there snuffling. Sid gave a shaky laugh. "Must have been me after all," he said, his voice belying the fact he was trying to convince himself.
"Perhaps it was the compost heap," Hermione suggested.
"What?"
"Compost makes noises sometimes as it ferments. It gets hot inside the heap as the chemical reaction takes place. It's a big one, so maybe it shifted or something."
None of the boys was at all surprised that Hermione would know about chemical reactions inside compost heaps.
"Yeah, that'd be it; compost." Liam sounded as unconvinced as Sid had been. "Smells funny, too," he added.
The unearthly howl of a werewolf shattered the silence; it sounded so near it could have been standing right beside them. All four jumped and cried out involuntarily. "No way, no way," Sid moaned half to himself, half to the others.
Then the snuffling started – an odd snuffling noise that Sid must have noticed earlier, that they'd done their best to convince themselves was nothing. But it was something and it was close. From behind the compost heap a figure emerged – a man. Then the man straightened up and the identification was seen to be wrong. It was tall, human-like but not human, standing on rangy limbs with its arms held oddly in front of it in a non-human mannerism. It had an oddly elongated face. And when it threw back its head and howled, they saw a mouthful of wicked teeth that could rend and destroy whole families of clabberts with ease. And humans too.
All four children screamed. The werewolf's head snapped around and it stared at them, amber eyes gleaming and lips drawn away from its fearsome teeth. Harry's heart pounded, his pulse was loud in his ears. Knowing what he had to do, he stood up, taking up position in front of his friends. For he was immune, wasn't he? The werewolf wouldn't attack him. He stretched out his arms to either side, shielding his friends.
With a bang a door was flung open behind him. "Get outta the way, Harry!" a deep voice cried. "Get down!" And without further ado, Hagrid raised his crossbow and fired.
With a yelp of pain the werewolf dropped like a stone and lay still. Harry couldn't take his eyes from it. There was something familiar about it and he felt something inexorably tragic surrounding it. He forced down the lump in his throat and walked the few steps over to it.
"Don' touch it!" Hagrid yelled, hastening over to them. Harry ignored him, crouching by the body. A wicked, thick crossbow bolt was embedded in the creature's left shoulder. The werewolf appeared to be unconscious.
"Why is he so hurt? I mean, I know you shot him, but it's only his shoulder."
"Bolt's tipped wi' silver," Hagrid said briefly, kneeling next to Harry. "Stops 'em in their tracks; they can' stand its touch."
Harry noticed a glint of silver metal suspended from a leather thong around the werewolf's neck. "But he's wearing silver," he said, confused. He reached out and lifted the pendant towards him, squinting to try and make out the device in the low light of the early summer moon. It was simple and clear, so Harry recognised it instantly. O.W. "The Order of Werewolves," he said wonderingly, rubbing at the metal with his thumb.
Hagrid hadn't noticed Harry's quiet words, concentrating instead on answering his previous point. "Tha's probably platinum or some such, somethin' that doesn' affect them."
Harry desperately wanted to know more about the shadowy Order. Determined to stay close to the werewolf, Harry would ask him questions when he became human again. They'd keep him prisoner, no doubt about it; and that would be Harry's chance.
Hagrid pulled a length of rope from out of one of the voluminous pockets in his coat and began to tie the werewolf, binding the front paws together tightly and the back legs at the hocks. It looked mightily uncomfortable, but Harry supposed it had to be like this, for werewolves were exceptionally strong and cunning. The wolf was still unconscious, but Hagrid was hurrying, working against the fear that it would waken before he'd safely tied it up. Hagrid bound a final piece of rope around the wolf's muzzle, binding the jaws tightly so it couldn't snap.
"What can we do with him?" Harry asked frantically. "We can't leave him like this! That arrow's still stuck in his shoulder!"
"He'll be taken ter Azkaban in the mornin', if he survives," Hagrid huffed. "I expect they'll sort 'im out there. If 'e was a normal beast I'd be happy ter try ter help, but a werewolf..." he shuddered. "Nope, have ter wait till he transforms, Harry. I daren' risk it as he'll wake up any minute once the initial shock o' the silver wears off."
Harry was exasperated by the fear Hagrid was showing. Yes, werewolves were deadly, but he had this one trussed up like a Christmas turkey and it was unconscious at the moment. "Surely you could take that arrow out?"
"No, Harry, I ain't goin' ter try. More'n my life's worth, that is," he muttered.
Harry began to wonder if he could do it, but the thought of removing the crossbow bolt was horrible, and he doubted he'd be strong enough to do it cleanly; he might only make matters worse. "Madam Pomfrey will help him!" Harry declared, suddenly animated. "Hermione, can you run and get her, please!"
"She might; she might not," Hermione said looking down doubtfully at the werewolf. "As a Healer she's bound to help any human, but he isn't human right now."
"I'll go," Liam said. And without another word he sprinted off towards the castle.
As the moon moved silently through the clear night sky, steadily getting closer to the horizon, Harry, Sid and Hermione waited with the bound werewolf while Hagrid went off to check on the security of his animal pens. Madam Pomfrey seemed to be taking her time, if she was coming at all. Harry took hope from the fact that Liam hadn't returned with a refusal, although maybe he'd been kept in the castle; they were out after curfew after all.
The werewolf became restless, thrashing about in its bonds, wriggling to try to move the ropes from around its legs, and lips snarling either side of the rope binding its jaws. It looked like it was still unconscious, but it couldn’t seem to lie quiet anymore. Harry thought that if it could, the werewolf would have been howling. As the beast thrashed about the crossbow bolt got jolted in its shoulder, causing fresh gouts of blood to flow darkly from its hairy pelt. Hermione buried her head against Sid's shoulder, shuddering.
The werewolf began to howl even though it was still unconscious, the sound tormenting the watchers. All of the children put their hands over their ears. Just when Harry was giving up on her, Madam Pomfrey arrived, hurrying over to the werewolf. "He's transforming! Get out of my way!" she ordered.
The man-beast was writhing in pain. It was impossible for him to transform, bound as he was, but the change was unstoppable and his body was going about it anyway. Madam Pomfrey pointed her wand at him and cast an unbinding charm causing the ropes to fall away. Harry sighed in relief, but his relief was short-lived as he watched the writhing, howling beast in agony as it transformed back into a human being. The now fully human figure of Remus Lupin lay on the ground, naked. He was covered in streaks of dirt and patches of blood, some older, some newly flowed as he'd struggled to transform. The crossbow bolt still stuck out of his shoulder, which was a dreadful mess by now, the wound much larger than initially. Madam Pomfrey clucked her tongue, conjured a sheet and covered his lower body with it. She began to clean and heal him.
Harry felt so much better now someone was caring for the man, taking over the situation so he no longer had to try and do what was best. He sagged in relief against the side of Hagrid's hut, overcome with the events of the evening and the revelation of the werewolf's identity. Liam came over to him, having followed the mediwitch back from the castle.
Liam could see Harry's exhaustion and the shock setting in now the initial emergency had passed. He put an arm around his friend. "Let's go back, Harry."
"No, not until I know he'll be all right!"
"But he's a werewolf!"
"Yes, so everyone keeps saying. But he's also Professor Lupin and I can't believe he's evil. Please, Liam, let's just wait a bit."
Liam knew better than to argue with a determined Harry. Things were taken out of their hands a short while later when Draco's father strode over, looking furious.
"I do not know what this school is coming to!" he raged, yelling to be heard over the sounds of agony still emerging from the injured man. "It was bad enough two years ago, but it seems the headmaster is employing Dark creatures on a regular basis. I think the governors need to consider very carefully whether Professor Dumbledore is capable of running the school any longer." Lucius Malfoy was one of the school governors as well as having influence in governments both Muggle and magical. Harry assumed Malfoy's son must have contacted him somehow with news of the recent happenings at the school.
Malfoy looked down at the bloody man on the ground, who was just beginning to come round. Madam Pomfrey had removed the bolt that was looking a gruesome, blood-covered mess on the grass next to them. She was still working feverishly on Remus, cleaning and healing scratches and marks as she went.
"Take him to the pound," Malfoy ordered. "There is a strong enough cage for him there."
"He doesn't need a cage anymore!" Harry protested. "He's a man now."
Malfoy turned to Harry, a sneer twisting his lips. "You think so? A man? No, Potter, this filth –" Malfoy nudged Remus with the toe of his boot, "– is a beast, nothing more. He will be taken to Azkaban first, then I've no doubt he will be put down like the rabid dog he so resembles." Lucius Malfoy then said, "Incarcerous," and Lupin was now bound as tightly as the wolf had been before.
Hermione let out a sob. Harry and Liam were all set to confront Malfoy, but a deputation of teachers arrived just then and Remus, now declared by the flustered mediwitch as fit to be moved, was taken away to the pound. The pound was a small outdoor cellblock tucked between the greenhouses and the side of the castle. It had been built in the Middle Ages for imprisoning straying animals from Hogsmeade until their owners paid a fine for their release. It was small and dark, with no light except was fell through its barred door, no bed or comforts of any kind. It was, after all, designed for animals.
Harry watched sadly as Remus was frog-marched away, the battered man moaning in pain as he was manhandled by Filch. "I have to talk to him," he told his friends.
"Why?" Hermione asked, genuinely confused. "It's obvious he killed the clabberts. He's a werewolf, for pity's sake, and he was inside the castle grounds. That's so dangerous – he could have killed students!"
"I'm not going to talk to him about that," Harry said. "I want to ask him about the O.W."
"What?"
"The Order of Werewolves. Didn't you see the pendant he was wearing? It was inscribed O.W. Maybe he's an emissary from them."
Hermione looked very doubtful; Liam and Sid looked horrified. "Harry... you can't do that. He's a beast, a Dark creature. He's probably killed people!"
"We don't know that he's killed anyone. Did Professor Lupin seem like a beast to you?"
"Oh, Harry," Hermione moaned. "Not this again! You know they're not beasts while in human form. But you saw him tonight. How much more dangerous could he be?"
Harry just shook his head stubbornly and headed back to the castle. He wouldn't argue about it. But he was going to talk to Remus; this was his chance to find out as much as possible about the O.W.
The following evening during dinner, Harry left his friends behind in the Great Hall on the pretext of going to the loo. He wasn't doing any such thing; instead he headed for the pound. He knew Remus was still imprisoned there as he'd caught snatches of conversations among the professors between classes. Remus would be collected tomorrow morning, so this was Harry's last chance.
Harry hurried out the entrance door and around the side of the castle. No one was about; the whole school was attending the main meal of the day. Slipping between Greenhouse 1 and the castle wall he saw the small stone building that was the pound. There was only one cell as the space wasn't subdivided in any way. Harry peered through the thick iron bars of the grating. Remus Lupin, now his ex-professor, was sitting on the bare earth with his back to the stone wall. His eyes were closed. He might be resting, sleeping or depressed. Harry hoped it was the first.
"Professor Lupin!" Harry called quietly.
Lupin's head shot up, his eyes opening and focussing immediately on Harry. "Harry? What are you doing here?"
"I have to ask you some questions, Professor. Please."
Remus got to his feet and came over to the bars. "Yes, yes, anything. But why would you even talk to me? You must know what I am."
Harry levelled a look at the man. "Yes, I know what you are, Professor. I've been in your class all year."
Lupin shook his head, but Harry hurried on, cutting short any expressions of disbelief. "I need you to be honest with me, sir. Please, help me."
"I'll help you if I can, Harry, though I must admit I'm baffled about how I can at the moment."
"I want you to tell me about the O.W."
To say Remus looked surprised would have been a major understatement. He stammered, perplexed.
"Please, sir, hurry!" Harry encouraged. "I don't want anyone to find me out here."
"Well, in that case," Remus said finally managing to order his thoughts, "I will tell you what I can. The O.W. is the Order of Werewolves, Harry, of which I am a member. Most of the members of the Order want to make peace with magical folk. We are as horrified by the constant attacks on your people as you are, perhaps more so, if you can understand that. You see, those attacks are threatening our very survival in these islands. The attacks are being made by renegade werewolves and vampires, like your previous professor, Quirrell."
"Yes," Harry said. "Quirrell said he came from the Order of Werewolves and he had a magical key with 'O.W.' on it."
"The Universal Opener! We missed it three years ago when it was stolen from the Order of Werewolves' collection." Remus sounded excited about the discovery of the old key. Harry briefly wondered who had it now and guessed it was Dumbledore. "But Quirrell did not come from the Order, Harry, he was working for the renegades."
"You're sure?"
"Yes. If Quirrell had succeeded it would have threatened the tenuous peace remaining between our peoples. It would have resulted in genocide: there would be murderous attacks on us, regardless of our condition, until there were none of us left."
"So why do the renegades want that? Isn't it really stupid of them?"
"You would think so, wouldn't you?" Lupin mused. "The best theory is that they believe they can win by wiping out the magical folk allowing them free run of Britain."
"So why doesn't the Order want that? You wouldn't have to worry about us anymore if we were wiped out," Harry said, playing devil's advocate. "Is it because you're scared of me?"
Remus's fervent expression softened and he smiled at Harry. "No, I am not scared of you, Harry. You have been alone with me many times this year. I could have killed you if I was so minded. Why would I fear someone I could have easily done away with?"
"Because I am immune," Harry said quietly.
"Perhaps you are immune to the attacks of werewolves and vampires," Remus admitted, "but not to a knife in the ribs or a broken neck."
Harry was startled at Remus' words and the gruff tones of his lowered voice as he said them. He stepped back away from the bars, suddenly unsure.
"Don't be foolish, Harry," Remus said, sighing. "I am not here to hurt you or anyone else. I think you know that, otherwise you would not be here talking to me. You came here of your own accord, didn't you?" Harry nodded. "Exactly. And no one else knows you're here, I'd be willing to wager that too."
"No, you're right. And if I let you out I suppose you could kill me... but I'd be willing to wager you won't," Harry said with a little smile.
Remus' eyes widened in surprise; eventually he smiled back gently at Harry. "No, I'd never hurt you, Harry. Quite apart from anything else, you are the child of my friends."
"You knew my parents?" Harry's heart seemed to skip a beat. Maybe at last he'd get some of the answers he so desperately needed. "Did you meet them at Hogwarts?"
"Oh no, as a werewolf I could not come to Hogwarts, that has never been allowed. The Order of Werewolves undertakes to educate any school-age weres and I was provided with a private tutor. No, I met your parents at a social gathering, one of the last before the climate in magical Britain changed forever. You see, the Potters are an ancient Pure-blooded family. Like many of their kind, in earlier times they sought out werewolf and vampire blood in order to strengthen their magical inheritance. These families kept ties with the Order until the situation became untenable, just in case they needed to enhance their magic again.
"I met your father, James Potter, and his then girlfriend, Lily Evans, at one such party. As some of the youngest in the room we naturally bonded and became friends. We continued our friendship beyond the party, meeting at weekends and in holidays. I was particularly glad of the company as my schooling was solitary. James and Lily understood this and spent a lot of their spare time with me, for which I was grateful. The dreadful end they met a few years later at the hands of a werewolf affected me greatly. I became depressed for a number of years and failed to finish my Potions mastery at that time. I did not become a Master until the late age of thirty," Remus said ruefully.
"You can imagine the horror I felt back then, knowing that it was a creature like me – a werewolf, albeit a renegade – who had killed my friends in such a violent, bloody manner. I was so happy that you had survived; so glad there was something of my friends left on this earth. But of course I could never see you; I was too dangerous to be allowed anywhere near you. It took a number of years of mentoring by an older werewolf for me to accept myself as I was and to begin to believe I could work and be of use to our society."
Remus paused, his eyes closed. Harry did not interrupt him; there was nothing he could say. He was stunned to discover that this sensitive man had been his parents' friend. Harry had been taking lessons from Remus all year and he mourned the lost opportunities when he could have talked to him, learned more about his parents. Now he was learning it was almost too late. If he was to survive at all Remus would be a fugitive.
"Eventually I saw a way to help. You see I wanted the chance to show wizards the truth about being a Dark creature, to encourage young minds to look at the issue in a different way. I could not come right out and tell the students I was a werewolf, for that would have landed me straight in Azkaban, just as you now see. All captured werewolves are sent to Azkaban. Those found 'menacing' the population, that is, while transformed, are killed on the spot with no questions asked. Even if a werewolf is simply ranging a forest far from habitation, he can be killed on sight. Only when in human guise, or in captivity, is he sent to Azkaban. The cells they have there to hold Dark creatures are disgusting. I would say they're inhuman, but I have learned that humans can do just as bad things as the monsters that threaten them.
"The Order of Werewolves still has some contacts that can help, so it was arranged for me to take the post of Potions teacher here at Hogwarts. In return, I was to gather information where I could, to assess and report on the situation our people face and whether there is any hope for contact and a truce. I was wary of the role and I must admit I feared being caught. My life is just as precious to me as yours or anyone else's, Harry.
"I took the opportunity to teach because I could put across a different viewpoint in my classes, if I was careful. And I was careful, Harry, but the moon turns my mind and the wolf broke out and attacked Hagrid's clabberts. It is so hard for us at that time – if only there was a way to tame the beast. And there must be! If the Ministry would only fund Potions research, there might be hope. But you know how rare Potions Masters are, and the saving of werewolves and vampires is not something they can be bothered with. We are easier to exterminate than to waste time trying to cure."
"You think there's a cure then? Are you researching it?"
"Yes, I believe there is. And one day someone will find it. I just hope there are some of us left alive to cure by then. There will be overseas, but the situation with British werewolves – and vampires for that matter – is far from secure. We are hunted, killed on sight. You saw how Hagrid shot me straightaway, and Hagrid is a kind man.
"As to researching myself: well, I try. I do not have the facilities at home. I am poor for a Potions Master. I have been employed from time to time, but as soon as my employers become suspicious about my regular illnesses I have to leave. I do private commissions, but they tend to be of dubious legality. No one trusts an unemployed, freelance Potions Master without a fine laboratory or reputation, and I do not wish to brew poisons."
"So tell me, what is this Order of Werewolves and why do you work for it?" Harry asked, finally thinking he was getting somewhere.
"The Order is the long-established legal and governing body for all werewolves and vampires in Britain. We regulate our own members; provide safe places for werewolves to stay during transformation and organise regular donors for vampires. Believe it or not, there are still a few people willing to offer their services, perhaps enticed by the legends surrounding such bonds." Lupin quirked a grin, but on seeing Harry's lack of comprehension, he continued his speech. "Vampires who receive regular feeds are quite mild-mannered creatures, nothing like the rampaging monsters of mythology. They become calm over time and with a regular arrangement; conversely, if they are starving they go insane. The propaganda of the Wizarding World, put about by the Prophet and, I am sad to say, the educational system, has made it more difficult to get donors. That makes the monstrous type of vampire prevail. It is a vicious circle and the so-called Dark creatures are the real sufferers, though of course we are sorry for all humans who are hurt during our times of desperation."
Remus leaned back against the wall, grimacing. He was obviously in pain from his wounds. He looked so sad then, both for the Dark creatures and for humankind. Harry could not bear the thought of him going to Azkaban.
"But because of the situation as it now stands," the werewolf continued quietly so that Harry had to lean as close as he could to the bars to hear him, "and the dire circumstances that mean many of our kind are running wild each month, there are ever increasing numbers of renegades out of the Order's control. We believe they follow one alpha wolf, a man who plots and schemes for the downfall of the wizarding world. You are his ultimate target, Harry. You who are, as you said, immune."
Harry felt an icy finger draw a line down his spine. "Who is this man?"
"I do not know his human name or where he lives," Remus admitted. "But his wolf-name is Greyback. He is bestial in wolf form, an alpha no other wolf would attack. It has to be admitted that in human form he is not much better. I have seen him commit unspeakable crimes in both forms. He taints the name of werewolf, not that it has been counted noble in decades."
"It once was?" Harry sounded really surprised.
"Oh, yes." Remus smiled sadly at Harry. "Yes, it was. Those high in the Order of Werewolves were honoured. Sometimes they would be sought out to mix their bloodlines with Pureblood wizarding families. Both sides were happy about it. Those were the days of equality, at least of a kind. But now..." Remus sighed sadly. "Now we are classified as beasts. I tell you, Harry, it is not a nice thing to be regarded as a beast by your fellow countrymen.
"Remus," Harry cried, his eyes prickling, "I cannot see you get sent to Azkaban! That place is dreadful. I've heard about it in Defence Against the Darkness class. You haven't done anything that bad, have you? The clabberts weren't human."
Remus looked sad. He lifted a hand as if to reach out and touch Harry, but let it fall back into his lap. "No, not quite. But how can you be sure I will not do worse next full moon?"
"I can't; it's just a feeling. What would you do now if you were free?"
"I am a Princeling in the Order of Werewolves, and I consider myself an honourable man. I tried to help, to plead our cause however obliquely. That is all I want to do. I would continue to try, to contact other Potions Masters for help, though so far I have found none willing to waste their precious time on such low-status research. And I would continue to help the vampires find their donors, to keep as many of them sane as possible."
Harry stood up and with a wave of his wand he opened the iron door of the pound. "Go on, Remus. Go back and help. Putting you into Azkaban won't do anyone any good, but I feel you can help us if you're free."
Remus looked into Harry's startlingly green eyes, trying to judge his sincerity. Satisfied, he nodded. "Thank you, Harry. You are your mother's son, in so many ways."
Remus slipped out past Harry, running swiftly across the lawns, heading for the lake and the gates. Harry watched him go, full of conviction that he had done right, though unsure where that certainty was coming from. He had so much to regret though as he wanted to ask Remus about his parents, especially about that last comment about his mum. Harry couldn't remember his parents. He'd accepted his sorry situation at the Dursleys until he went to Hedwig's. There he'd been the same as the other children: unwanted or orphaned, none of them spoke of their parents. Now he had talked to someone who could have told him something worthwhile, but there had been no time. Harry felt a lump in his throat and he swallowed, determined not to cry.
Most of all, Harry would have liked to ask Remus about his blanket, for he had a feeling that it was his blanket that now held the key to his life. Harry fully expected to finish his schooling at Hogwarts. He thought that the classroom motif on the blanket had led to this and would keep him here while he needed to learn. But he also expected something magical to happen after, for the third box to be triggered. That image showed the tumbling dice, and it made him nervous. Chance... for good or ill, just what would it mean for him?
Harry's thoughts were interrupted by distant sounds, raised voices drifting towards where he stood outside the pound. Fearing the worst, Harry crept around the side of the largest greenhouse, trying to make out what was happening. Thank Merlin for light nights, he thought, glancing up at the bright, newly waning moon. There in the distance, clearly discernable, Harry saw the distinctive figure of Professor Lockhart pinning something beneath him. Harry's heart sank, for it could only be one person trapped there: Remus Lupin was being pushed down into the damp grass.
As Harry hurried closer, he could clearly hear Lockhart's voice, wild with excitement. "I'll get an Order of Merlin for this, Lupin! Perhaps a second or even first class this time. I already have a third, of course, for my amazing efforts killing the Bandon Banshee."
Harry mentally sneered, even in this situation the braggart Lockhart had to blow his own trumpet. It would have been comic if it wasn't such a desperate situation. Lockhart would wake the whole castle carrying on like this. Any time now one of the teachers would come out and join him to take Lupin back into custody. Everything Harry was working for would be stolen away – the hope for the future that Harry had pinned on having some kind of contact with a werewolf.
"My heroic capture of the escaping renegade werewolf, such a threat to all of wizard-kind's children here at Hogwarts, will put me on the front page of the newspapers again," Lockhart crowed.
"I'm not a renegade, Lockhart," Remus panted, his voice hoarse and straining. "I'm not a threat to the children. Let me go... this will serve no purpose."
"On the contrary, my dear fellow," Lockhart said wildly. By now Harry could see the grip he had around Remus' throat, which explained Remus' hoarse voice only too well. It was a wonder the werewolf could speak at all with Lockhart seeming to lean his bodyweight on Remus' neck. "It will serve me. I have been far too quiet lately, being left out of the public eye has caused my popularity to wane. I need to write another book – and you will give me the material to do it!"
Harry reached them with neither man noticing him, so wrapped up with their struggle. He levelled his wand at Lockhart. "Let him go, Professor."
Lockhart looked up, obviously startled to see Harry standing over him. "Whatever are you talking about, dear boy? He is an escaped convict and a werewolf. You cannot be serious. Put away your wand."
"I heard what you were saying, and you're wrong. Remus is a good man, working for peace between our people."
This made Lockhart cackle. His laughter had a manic edge and Harry began to wonder just how stable he really was. Lockhart had always been self-obsessed and slightly manic, but was he more? "Peace? There can be no peace!" Lockhart yelled. "You're deluded. Now put down your wand!"
Harry stood stubbornly facing Lockhart, aware with every passing second that Lupin's opportunity to escape was slipping away from them. Lockhart replaced one of the hands around Remus' neck with one of his knees instead and Harry heard Lupin's breath begin to wheeze alarmingly as Lockhart pressed him further into the damp ground. "I'm warning you, Professor..." Harry growled, growing angrier by the second.
"Expelliarmus!"
It was all over. Harry whirled to see who had cast from behind him, his heart sinking like a stone. What he saw surprised him. Liam had approached unnoticed as they'd talked and he was standing behind Lockhart, wand-arm raised having just cast the disarming charm. Lockhart had been knocked aside by the force of the spell. Liam's duelling practice had improved both his aim and the power of his spells. Lockhart's wand spun through the air, barely missing Harry's face as it flew by, ending up lying just beyond him. Lockhart, spinning backwards, was unfortunate enough to impact the only tree in this part of the grounds, banging his head hard against the trunk and falling to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.
"I've no idea what you're doing, Harry," Liam said, wide-eyed, "but I know you understand werewolves and that's enough for me."
Harry hurried over to Lupin to help him to his feet. Remus was rubbing his neck; his face was red and his breath whistled in and out harshly. "Thanks, Liam." Harry said, looking back at his friend. "You're a life-saver; literally. But now what are we going to do?"
Liam went over to Lockhart and knelt down beside him beneath the tree. Gingerly, he checked the man's head, running his fingers through the fair hair looking for blood. "He seems okay, I think he's just knocked out."
Harry let out a sigh of relief. "And no one else is coming out, which is amazing given the amount of noise these two were making."
Remus looked at Harry wryly. "You'd make a bit of noise if you had a man virtually standing on your windpipe," he rasped.
"Well, you're free again," Harry said, making shooing motions. "So get away while he's still out of it! Tell your people I'll be willing to listen," he called after the werewolf who was already taking off at a lope over the lawns of Hogwarts, heading for the forest.
As if on cue, Lockhart began to stir, groaning. Liam helped support him and he managed to sit up. He looked around, an expression of confusion on his face. When he saw Harry and Liam he grinned inanely. "Hello," he said. "Odd sort of place, this, isn't it? Do you live here?"
"Er, most of the time, yes, Professor," Harry answered, waiting for the detention he was sure would follow. Lockhart would probably get them both expelled.
"Am I a professor?" said Lockhart in mild surprise. "Goodness. I expect I was hopeless, was I?"
"Merlin! That knock against the tree scrambled his brains, Harry," Liam said sounding far from unhappy about it.
"Yeah, and that's not much of a loss, is it," Harry said darkly.
Chapter notes:
"Odd sort of place, this, isn't it? Do you live here?" and "Am I a professor?" said Lockhart in mild surprise. "Goodness. I expect I was hopeless, was I?" are quotes taken directly from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Sorry, Jo.
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