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shimotsuki.
All Will Be in Order
When Remus Lupin moves in at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, he must come to terms with Sirius Black and a friendship too long submerged by mistrust, loss, and Azkaban. He must learn to work with Molly Weasley, who seems to be nearly as frightened of werewolves as she is of Voldemort. Clearly, adjustments will have to be made. ( Remus, Sirius, Molly | GoF>OotP | gen )
Chapter 4: A Few Surprises (3560 words | PG/mild profanity)
Author's note: Many thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
duck_or_rabbit, for putting her finger on the places where this chapter needed something more. (Revised, September 2011.)
( 1. The Perfect Flat ) | ( 2. The First Mission ) | ( 3. A Long Summer ) || ( Chapter Index )
All Will Be In Order
4. A Few Surprises
The words on the parchment swam out of focus, and Molly stopped writing to wipe her eyes on the corner of her apron.
Poor old Errol hooted drowsily from his perch on the back of the chair next to hers.
"You're right." Molly slumped a little. "This is no good at all."
She waved her wand, Vanishing the ink, and began again.
"There." She sighed. That would have to do.
Molly tied the folded parchment neatly onto the leg that Errol stretched feebly in her direction. Then she coaxed the owl onto her shoulder, carried him upstairs from the kitchen, and opened a small window in the front hall to let him out.
She stood by the window until well after the tiny bedraggled speck had disappeared into the distance.
Surely Percy would answer her letter this time.
Sniffing a little, Molly wiped her eyes again and turned to make her way up another flight of stairs toward the chilly, cavernous library on the first floor. As she drew closer, she could hear thumping sounds and cheery voices, and she called up a watery smile. At least the children were making progress with the cleaning.
But then she stepped through the doorway into the library and saw them.
The stiff velvet curtains were still drawn. The room was still full of dust and cobwebs. And not a book had been removed from the shelves—
—except for three fat ones, which scuttled laboriously across the floor, crab-wise.
It seemed to be a race. Hermione stood looking on with a small anxious frown, but Ron and Ginny were doubled over laughing. Fred, George, and Sirius each had a wand aimed at one of the clumsily flapping books.
"I've got you, George!"
"Not for long you don't!"
"Just watch—I'll get both of you ginger-haired upstarts!" Sirius's gleeful roar was the loudest of all.
Molly felt something snap.
"WHAT IS THIS?"
They all froze, and then slowly turned to face her, even Sirius. Ron winced a little. Ginny crossed her arms and raised her chin.
The books toppled over.
"I asked you children to do one simple thing—check for curses and organise the books! Can't I even turn my back for one minute without you completely disregarding my instructions and carrying on with some ridiculous time-wasting game!"
Ginny tossed her hair over her shoulder. "You know Hermione and Ron and I can't do anything with the books until someone checks them for curses! We're underage!"
"Well?" Molly glared at the twins.
"There must be thousands of books in here," Fred protested. "What's the harm in having a little fun before we get started?"
"Tens of thousands." George scowled. "It's going to take the entire rest of the ruddy summer to check them all!"
Molly's head was throbbing, and she felt the prickling behind her eyes begin again. Would no one in her family cooperate? And Sirius wasn't helping. For heaven's sake, he was an adult. He should be setting a good example for the children, not egging them on!
Her hands found their way to her hips, and she took a deep breath, preparing for another bellow.
But then a quiet voice sounded from the doorway behind her.
"It really needn't take the rest of the summer."
Molly spun around to see Remus leaning against the doorjamb, with his hands in his pockets—and an unexpectedly sympathetic look in his eyes when they met hers.
She felt a warm flush creep across her face. How long had he been there? Had he heard her shouting at the children?
Somehow, she couldn't imagine Remus ever shouting at all.
Remus looked past her to smile at the twins. "I know a useful little spell that should be just what we need. George, Fred—you're of age, so you can try this. Watch carefully."
He strode over to one of the dozens of bookshelves, with everyone else trailing curiously after him, and pointed his wand with a little flick and a sideways flourish. "Fodico."
The first book on the bottom shelf glowed a soft orange.
Remus swept his wand steadily along the shelf, and each book glowed orange in turn—until one suddenly flared a violent red and leapt a good two inches into the air.
He whistled. "That one's got some pretty powerful Dark spells on it."
"Why am I not surprised?" Sirius rolled his eyes.
"This is brilliant." Fred broke into a grin. "With that trick, we'll be done in here in, what, a couple of days?"
George said nothing, but he was mimicking the odd little wrist flick with a look of deep concentration.
"You do have to be careful," Remus warned. "This method is a lot more efficient than floating the books off the shelves one by one to cast diagnostic spells. But books that aren't cursed as strongly as that one was might only twitch and turn colour a little bit." He turned to Ron, Ginny, and Hermione. "This is where you three come in. Divide yourselves up and follow along behind Fred or George. You'll be an extra pair of eyes in case some books only show subtle signs."
The younger children nodded, looking more interested than they had done in days.
George and Fred had already started trying out the spell for themselves. Three or four books glowed red and jumped.
"And there's one more thing," said Remus firmly. "Whatever you find, be sure you float it into a pile and let one of us adults look at it. I don't want to have to take any of you to the Spell Damage ward at St. Mungo's—just think of the explaining we would have to do." He looked at the children one by one. "Is that understood?"
"Yes, Professor Lupin," they chorused obediently. But their enthusiasm for the clever new spell seemed undimmed, and they set off along the library walls in two groups. Orange and red light began to fill the room.
Remus grinned after them, but when he turned back, his air of teacherly authority dropped away like a discarded cloak. He peered sideways at Molly. "I hope you didn't mind my barging in and showing the children something new."
"No, not at all. It was very helpful." She winced a little, inwardly, at how stiff she sounded, because her words were sincerely meant. "I think they're getting tired of all the cleaning."
"I wonder why that would be?" Sirius growled, somewhere behind them.
Molly took a deep breath and met the quiet brown gaze squarely. "Thank you, Remus."
He smiled, maybe a little more easily than usual. "They'll probably tire of this in a few hours, too." The smile turned almost mischievous. "But there's something else I can show them when that happens."
Something else? Molly blinked. He certainly seemed to know a lot of "useful little spells." Of course, she reminded herself, he did teach Defence Against the Dark Arts.
With a polite nod, Remus left her side and went to have a look at the cursed books that were beginning to pile up in Fred and Ginny's wake.
Only then did Molly realise that she had been standing right next to him.
. * . * .
Sirius aimed his wand at yet another book from yet another of the piles that lay scattered across the library. It floated a few feet off the floor, and he spun it slowly in midair, letting its pages flutter open in a cloud of dust. His diagnostic spell caught a minor Itching Hex. Muttering under his breath, he removed the hex and dropped the book on top of a stack ready for reshelving.
He stretched, restlessly, feeling his shoulders pop, before turning back to his pile.
But then he just stood and glowered. After two tedious hours, his wand felt too heavy to lift. If I have to decontaminate one more book, I swear I'll—
A Patronus swept into the room and made a wide circle around Sirius before homing in on Remus, who stood checking his own pile of books on the other side of the library.
It was a phoenix.
Dumbledore.
Boredom forgotten, Sirius hurried after the Patronus, rocking forward on his toes to listen as it delivered its message.
"Remus, I will be arriving at headquarters in twenty minutes' time. Molly tells me that the decontamination of the house is proceeding smoothly, so I have another mission for you to carry out this afternoon."
"A mission!" Sirius grinned at Remus. "It's about time we got let out of this house! What do you suppose he wants us to do?"
Remus looked up quickly, and opened his mouth, but said nothing after all. In the end, he settled on an uneasy half-smile. "I suppose we'll find out in twenty minutes' time."
Sirius glanced over his shoulder at the pile of books he'd been checking—and the pile behind that, and the one behind that, and on and on into the gloom of the library.
He turned back to Remus with a bright, ingenuous smile that made his old friend's eyes narrow in suspicion. "I'll just go down and put some tea on for him, then."
Sirius wasted no time making his escape from books and hexes and Molly and dust. The kitchen was quite clean now, and almost comfortable, with a crackling fire and an amply stocked pantry. He pulled a handful of teacups out of the cupboard, arranged a few tins of tea perfunctorily on the table, and sat down with the Prophet to wait for Dumbledore's briefing.
Twenty minutes and two impassioned editorials on Quidditch rules later, the fire in the grate turned green. Sirius pushed the Prophet to one side and jumped up to fill the kettle with water.
Dumbledore emerged from the Floo with a smudge of soot on the end of his long, crooked nose. "Ah, hello, Sirius," he said brightly. "You're looking well."
Sirius snorted. "I'll be looking even better as soon as I get out of this house!" He heard Remus enter the kitchen behind him. "What's the mission you've got for us?"
Dumbledore glanced over Sirius's shoulder at Remus before answering. "I'm sorry," he said gently, "but the mission is for Remus specifically."
Sirius scowled. "Fine." He tapped the kettle with his wand and it boiled at once. "Then find another one for me."
"Haven't the two of you discussed the situation?" Dumbledore was looking behind him at Remus again.
Sirius stepped away from the table and turned so that he could see both of them at once.
"It hadn't come up," said Remus wearily. "We were busy with the decontamination."
"What hadn't come up?" Sirius looked from one man to the other. Dumbledore was watching Remus, who met the keen blue gaze only briefly before ducking his head and looking away.
Prefect Moony, thought Sirius suddenly. He'd seen Remus look like that a hundred times before—caught between the headmaster and the Marauders.
"Sirius," said Dumbledore gravely, "I'm afraid we can't risk letting you go on basic missions just now."
"What?"
Remus glanced at him and away again, picking up an empty teacup and turning it over in his hands. "If Peter's with Voldemort," he said quietly, "then your cover has been compromised—all of the Death Eaters will know to be watching for a big black dog."
"Indeed." Dumbledore poured a cup of tea with the barest flick of his wand and handed it to Sirius. "Between the danger from the Death Eaters, and the ten-thousand Galleon price on your head from the Ministry, the best way for you to serve the Order is from inside headquarters."
Inside this house.
It was actually hard to breathe. The dark, gloomy walls that he thought he had left behind forever were pressing in on him. Sirius wanted to lash out, to smash something, to yell until his throat was raw.
Then came the brief touch of a hand on his arm. Steady brown eyes met his—this time they were full of shared frustration, and they didn't look away. "It's only for now," Remus assured him. "Until we capture Peter and clear your name."
"Besides, Molly needs you here," added Dumbledore cheerily. "Even with all the children helping, she can't clean out this whole house without you."
Now Sirius did hurl his teacup at the wall. It shattered against the stones. Tea dripped into a dark puddle on the floor, still steaming.
"I did not join the Order," he hissed between clenched teeth, "to clean a bloody house."
"But that's just it," said Remus, his voice still low and steady. "You're too important to the Order for us to let you risk your safety on a routine mission that anyone could do."
"Think of your godson," said Dumbledore. "If you were captured, by either side, Harry would be devastated."
Sirius snatched another teacup from the table and sent it after the first one, feeling a flush of hostile triumph when the crash of china on stone made the old man wince.
Remus didn't flinch. He stood his ground and met Sirius's savage scowl with a silent plea for understanding.
Understanding, my arse, thought Sirius. I'll give you understanding when you're the one they won't let leave this pit of horrors.
He stalked out of the kitchen without another word and pounded up four flights of stairs to Buckbeak's room.
What made him angriest of all was that he knew they were right.
. * . * .
The malevolent old grandfather clock ground out a wheezy chime. Remus blinked at the book he held open on his lap, realising that he hadn't turned a page in at least a quarter of an hour. He set the book aside and ran a hand slowly over his face.
It was late. The children had gone to bed long ago, and by now surely Molly and Arthur had done the same. Remus shouldn't have been up this late, either, not so close to the full moon. But he was waiting in the library, trying to read amidst the cobwebs and the half-sorted piles of decontaminated books, just in case Sirius finally decided to come downstairs.
Remus had returned from his surveillance mission in time for supper. Sirius, however, had been conspicuously absent from the meal. Remus went upstairs once and said all the reasonable things he could think of through the locked door, but he got no response at all.
Now he stared at his hands, trying to convince himself that Sirius simply needed time to get used to the prospect of staying hidden away inside this house that he hated so much.
The alternative, of course, was that Sirius was holed up with Buckbeak because he thought that Remus's agreeing with Dumbledore had been a betrayal.
Remus sighed.
When they were all at Hogwarts, he never could have done the kind of thing he had done today, taking Dumbledore's side against one of his friends. He would have been too afraid of losing their friendship to take that kind of risk.
But Hogwarts was a long time ago. Remus understood, now, that some things were important enough to risk a friendship—or, this time, the possibility of rebuilding a friendship—for.
Still, that didn't make it any easier to face the fact that Sirius had refused to speak to him tonight.
Remus decided he could really use a cup of tea to quiet the dull ache in his stomach.
He made his way down to the kitchen. He had expected to find it empty at this hour. Instead, it was full of Molly, bustling about cooking a second supper and humming happily under her breath.
He started to back away—so late at night and so close to the moon, he really didn't feel capable of putting forth the effort it would require to be courteous to Molly Weasley—but she looked up and saw him.
She stopped humming, of course, and gave him the too-bright smile that was very familiar now. Remus smothered a weary sigh and smiled carefully back. If his retreat was blocked, at least he could still have his cup of tea.
"I had an owl a little while ago," Molly explained, gesturing vaguely at a simmering cauldron of stew. "Bill's due in from Egypt tonight, and Arthur's going to send him over from the Burrow." She pointed her wand at a small oven built into the wall of the fireplace. A fragrant golden loaf floated out and landed gently on a bread board that sat waiting on the table.
"Good," said Remus sincerely, tapping the kettle with his wand to start the water heating. "I'll be glad to have an expert opinion on some of the nastier curses we've turned up."
Molly looked extremely pleased at his words. Remus rather thought she might launch into stories of her eldest son's curse-breaking triumphs, and he fixed another polite smile on his face in preparation. But before she could say another word, Bill himself stepped out from the Floo, tall and lean with a red ponytail and a small rucksack slung over one shoulder.
"Oh, Bill!" Molly threw her arms around him. "I'm so glad you've come! There are so many dreadful things in this house—you have no idea. There's one cupboard, up on the third floor—it turns itself red-hot every time you touch it, and George tried wrapping a handkerchief around the door pull, but then he sprouted great green boils all over his hand—"
"Steady, Mum." Bill patted his mother gently on the back, laughing a little. "It's late here now, and even later in Egypt—we'll have plenty of time for all this in the morning. I'm staying for a few days, you know." He disentangled himself from her smothering hug and grinned. "And it looks like I'll be transferring to the London branch next month."
Molly's face lit up. "That's wonderful! But I thought you loved Egypt—what's happened?"
"Erm, you know, with all that's going on, I thought maybe Dumbledore could use another pair of hands around here."
Remus thought Bill might have flushed slightly as he spoke, but it might have been nothing more than an effect of the heat from the fire. In any case, Molly didn't seem to notice anything amiss.
"Hullo." Bill was smiling straight at Remus now, where he stood in the corner with his tea. "You're not Sirius Black. Unless the photos on those Ministry wanted posters are even worse than I thought."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Molly fluttered. "Remus, this is my son Bill. Bill, this is another Order member, a friend of Sirius's—Remus Lupin."
Bill's head came up sharply, and his eyes widened.
"Hello, Bill." Remus smiled and nodded, but he kept both hands on his teacup. He had learnt his lesson about wide-eyed Weasleys and handshakes.
Bill took a step closer, still staring. His gaze was as blue as Ron's. "The Remus Lupin?"
Now Remus slowly set the teacup down, forcing himself to unclench his fingers from around the handle before he snapped it off. "Probably," he said, in his very mildest voice.
Bill broke into a broad grin. "The Remus Lupin who did a freelance code-breaking project for Gringotts during You-Know-Who's first rise?"
"Oh." Now it was Remus's turn to stare. "I had no idea anyone knew about that."
"Are you joking?" Bill seized Remus's hand, shaking it vigorously. "It's an honour to meet you. That was an amazing piece of decryption. It's a case study in the Curse-Breaker training course—I had an exam on it."
"A case study." Remus shook his head, and his mouth curved into a small rueful grin.
"I can't believe you didn't know that." Bill laughed. "You're the Lupin who taught at Hogwarts, too, aren't you? My brothers and Ginny told me you were brilliant teaching Defence. I wasn't surprised to hear it." His open, friendly smile faded into a thoughtful frown. "The way things are going these days, you really ought to be teaching there still."
Remus raised both eyebrows. "That's hardly the majority opinion, you know."
Bill sighed. "People can be really stupid about things sometimes. Just ask the goblins."
"Bill, dear," Molly broke in. "Come and have some stew."
Remus almost thought her voice sounded a little subdued. But that was probably only wishful thinking on his part.
People who held strong opinions about werewolves were not, in his experience, likely to change their minds.
. * . * .
( On to Ch 5 ) ( Up to Chapter Index )
.
All Will Be in Order
When Remus Lupin moves in at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, he must come to terms with Sirius Black and a friendship too long submerged by mistrust, loss, and Azkaban. He must learn to work with Molly Weasley, who seems to be nearly as frightened of werewolves as she is of Voldemort. Clearly, adjustments will have to be made. ( Remus, Sirius, Molly | GoF>OotP | gen )
Chapter 4: A Few Surprises (3560 words | PG/mild profanity)
Author's note: Many thanks to
duck_or_rabbit, for putting her finger on the places where this chapter needed something more. (Revised, September 2011.) - Dumbledore emerged from the Floo with a smudge of soot on the end of his long, crooked nose. "Ah, hello, Sirius," he said brightly. "You're looking well."
Sirius snorted. "I'll be looking even better as soon as I get out of this house!" He heard Remus enter the kitchen behind him. "What's the mission you've got for us?"
Dumbledore glanced over Sirius's shoulder at Remus before answering. "I'm sorry," he said gently, "but the mission is for Remus specifically."
Sirius scowled. "Fine." He tapped the kettle with his wand and it boiled at once. "Then find another one for me."
( 1. The Perfect Flat ) | ( 2. The First Mission ) | ( 3. A Long Summer ) || ( Chapter Index )
4. A Few Surprises
"I think Dumbledore might have hoped that I would be able to exercise some control over my best friends," said Lupin. "I need scarcely say that I failed dismally."
—Order of the Phoenix, chapter 9
. * . * . "And I’m not a very popular dinner guest with most of the community," said Lupin. "It’s an occupational hazard of being a werewolf."
—Order of the Phoenix, chapter 5
—Order of the Phoenix, chapter 9
—Order of the Phoenix, chapter 5
Dear Percy,
How have you been, dear? Is your new flat nice? Are you eating well enough? I hope that you aren't staying at the Ministry too late in the evenings, and that you're getting a little fresh air and exercise every day. You always did look a bit peaky when you were busy studying for exams—I worry about you, living all alone and working so hard.
Percy, I know that you and your father had words, but he only wants the best for you—really he does. This will be the fifth owl I've sent since you left home. Won't you please send a note back, just to let me know that things are all right? Just a sentence or
The words on the parchment swam out of focus, and Molly stopped writing to wipe her eyes on the corner of her apron.
Poor old Errol hooted drowsily from his perch on the back of the chair next to hers.
"You're right." Molly slumped a little. "This is no good at all."
She waved her wand, Vanishing the ink, and began again.
Dear Percy,
I miss you, and I hope you are well. Please write when you get a chance. Be sure to let me know if there is anything you need.
All my love,
Mum
"There." She sighed. That would have to do.
Molly tied the folded parchment neatly onto the leg that Errol stretched feebly in her direction. Then she coaxed the owl onto her shoulder, carried him upstairs from the kitchen, and opened a small window in the front hall to let him out.
She stood by the window until well after the tiny bedraggled speck had disappeared into the distance.
Surely Percy would answer her letter this time.
Sniffing a little, Molly wiped her eyes again and turned to make her way up another flight of stairs toward the chilly, cavernous library on the first floor. As she drew closer, she could hear thumping sounds and cheery voices, and she called up a watery smile. At least the children were making progress with the cleaning.
But then she stepped through the doorway into the library and saw them.
The stiff velvet curtains were still drawn. The room was still full of dust and cobwebs. And not a book had been removed from the shelves—
—except for three fat ones, which scuttled laboriously across the floor, crab-wise.
It seemed to be a race. Hermione stood looking on with a small anxious frown, but Ron and Ginny were doubled over laughing. Fred, George, and Sirius each had a wand aimed at one of the clumsily flapping books.
"I've got you, George!"
"Not for long you don't!"
"Just watch—I'll get both of you ginger-haired upstarts!" Sirius's gleeful roar was the loudest of all.
Molly felt something snap.
"WHAT IS THIS?"
They all froze, and then slowly turned to face her, even Sirius. Ron winced a little. Ginny crossed her arms and raised her chin.
The books toppled over.
"I asked you children to do one simple thing—check for curses and organise the books! Can't I even turn my back for one minute without you completely disregarding my instructions and carrying on with some ridiculous time-wasting game!"
Ginny tossed her hair over her shoulder. "You know Hermione and Ron and I can't do anything with the books until someone checks them for curses! We're underage!"
"Well?" Molly glared at the twins.
"There must be thousands of books in here," Fred protested. "What's the harm in having a little fun before we get started?"
"Tens of thousands." George scowled. "It's going to take the entire rest of the ruddy summer to check them all!"
Molly's head was throbbing, and she felt the prickling behind her eyes begin again. Would no one in her family cooperate? And Sirius wasn't helping. For heaven's sake, he was an adult. He should be setting a good example for the children, not egging them on!
Her hands found their way to her hips, and she took a deep breath, preparing for another bellow.
But then a quiet voice sounded from the doorway behind her.
"It really needn't take the rest of the summer."
Molly spun around to see Remus leaning against the doorjamb, with his hands in his pockets—and an unexpectedly sympathetic look in his eyes when they met hers.
She felt a warm flush creep across her face. How long had he been there? Had he heard her shouting at the children?
Somehow, she couldn't imagine Remus ever shouting at all.
Remus looked past her to smile at the twins. "I know a useful little spell that should be just what we need. George, Fred—you're of age, so you can try this. Watch carefully."
He strode over to one of the dozens of bookshelves, with everyone else trailing curiously after him, and pointed his wand with a little flick and a sideways flourish. "Fodico."
The first book on the bottom shelf glowed a soft orange.
Remus swept his wand steadily along the shelf, and each book glowed orange in turn—until one suddenly flared a violent red and leapt a good two inches into the air.
He whistled. "That one's got some pretty powerful Dark spells on it."
"Why am I not surprised?" Sirius rolled his eyes.
"This is brilliant." Fred broke into a grin. "With that trick, we'll be done in here in, what, a couple of days?"
George said nothing, but he was mimicking the odd little wrist flick with a look of deep concentration.
"You do have to be careful," Remus warned. "This method is a lot more efficient than floating the books off the shelves one by one to cast diagnostic spells. But books that aren't cursed as strongly as that one was might only twitch and turn colour a little bit." He turned to Ron, Ginny, and Hermione. "This is where you three come in. Divide yourselves up and follow along behind Fred or George. You'll be an extra pair of eyes in case some books only show subtle signs."
The younger children nodded, looking more interested than they had done in days.
George and Fred had already started trying out the spell for themselves. Three or four books glowed red and jumped.
"And there's one more thing," said Remus firmly. "Whatever you find, be sure you float it into a pile and let one of us adults look at it. I don't want to have to take any of you to the Spell Damage ward at St. Mungo's—just think of the explaining we would have to do." He looked at the children one by one. "Is that understood?"
"Yes, Professor Lupin," they chorused obediently. But their enthusiasm for the clever new spell seemed undimmed, and they set off along the library walls in two groups. Orange and red light began to fill the room.
Remus grinned after them, but when he turned back, his air of teacherly authority dropped away like a discarded cloak. He peered sideways at Molly. "I hope you didn't mind my barging in and showing the children something new."
"No, not at all. It was very helpful." She winced a little, inwardly, at how stiff she sounded, because her words were sincerely meant. "I think they're getting tired of all the cleaning."
"I wonder why that would be?" Sirius growled, somewhere behind them.
Molly took a deep breath and met the quiet brown gaze squarely. "Thank you, Remus."
He smiled, maybe a little more easily than usual. "They'll probably tire of this in a few hours, too." The smile turned almost mischievous. "But there's something else I can show them when that happens."
Something else? Molly blinked. He certainly seemed to know a lot of "useful little spells." Of course, she reminded herself, he did teach Defence Against the Dark Arts.
With a polite nod, Remus left her side and went to have a look at the cursed books that were beginning to pile up in Fred and Ginny's wake.
Only then did Molly realise that she had been standing right next to him.
Sirius aimed his wand at yet another book from yet another of the piles that lay scattered across the library. It floated a few feet off the floor, and he spun it slowly in midair, letting its pages flutter open in a cloud of dust. His diagnostic spell caught a minor Itching Hex. Muttering under his breath, he removed the hex and dropped the book on top of a stack ready for reshelving.
He stretched, restlessly, feeling his shoulders pop, before turning back to his pile.
But then he just stood and glowered. After two tedious hours, his wand felt too heavy to lift. If I have to decontaminate one more book, I swear I'll—
A Patronus swept into the room and made a wide circle around Sirius before homing in on Remus, who stood checking his own pile of books on the other side of the library.
It was a phoenix.
Dumbledore.
Boredom forgotten, Sirius hurried after the Patronus, rocking forward on his toes to listen as it delivered its message.
"Remus, I will be arriving at headquarters in twenty minutes' time. Molly tells me that the decontamination of the house is proceeding smoothly, so I have another mission for you to carry out this afternoon."
"A mission!" Sirius grinned at Remus. "It's about time we got let out of this house! What do you suppose he wants us to do?"
Remus looked up quickly, and opened his mouth, but said nothing after all. In the end, he settled on an uneasy half-smile. "I suppose we'll find out in twenty minutes' time."
Sirius glanced over his shoulder at the pile of books he'd been checking—and the pile behind that, and the one behind that, and on and on into the gloom of the library.
He turned back to Remus with a bright, ingenuous smile that made his old friend's eyes narrow in suspicion. "I'll just go down and put some tea on for him, then."
Sirius wasted no time making his escape from books and hexes and Molly and dust. The kitchen was quite clean now, and almost comfortable, with a crackling fire and an amply stocked pantry. He pulled a handful of teacups out of the cupboard, arranged a few tins of tea perfunctorily on the table, and sat down with the Prophet to wait for Dumbledore's briefing.
Twenty minutes and two impassioned editorials on Quidditch rules later, the fire in the grate turned green. Sirius pushed the Prophet to one side and jumped up to fill the kettle with water.
Dumbledore emerged from the Floo with a smudge of soot on the end of his long, crooked nose. "Ah, hello, Sirius," he said brightly. "You're looking well."
Sirius snorted. "I'll be looking even better as soon as I get out of this house!" He heard Remus enter the kitchen behind him. "What's the mission you've got for us?"
Dumbledore glanced over Sirius's shoulder at Remus before answering. "I'm sorry," he said gently, "but the mission is for Remus specifically."
Sirius scowled. "Fine." He tapped the kettle with his wand and it boiled at once. "Then find another one for me."
"Haven't the two of you discussed the situation?" Dumbledore was looking behind him at Remus again.
Sirius stepped away from the table and turned so that he could see both of them at once.
"It hadn't come up," said Remus wearily. "We were busy with the decontamination."
"What hadn't come up?" Sirius looked from one man to the other. Dumbledore was watching Remus, who met the keen blue gaze only briefly before ducking his head and looking away.
Prefect Moony, thought Sirius suddenly. He'd seen Remus look like that a hundred times before—caught between the headmaster and the Marauders.
"Sirius," said Dumbledore gravely, "I'm afraid we can't risk letting you go on basic missions just now."
"What?"
Remus glanced at him and away again, picking up an empty teacup and turning it over in his hands. "If Peter's with Voldemort," he said quietly, "then your cover has been compromised—all of the Death Eaters will know to be watching for a big black dog."
"Indeed." Dumbledore poured a cup of tea with the barest flick of his wand and handed it to Sirius. "Between the danger from the Death Eaters, and the ten-thousand Galleon price on your head from the Ministry, the best way for you to serve the Order is from inside headquarters."
Inside this house.
It was actually hard to breathe. The dark, gloomy walls that he thought he had left behind forever were pressing in on him. Sirius wanted to lash out, to smash something, to yell until his throat was raw.
Then came the brief touch of a hand on his arm. Steady brown eyes met his—this time they were full of shared frustration, and they didn't look away. "It's only for now," Remus assured him. "Until we capture Peter and clear your name."
"Besides, Molly needs you here," added Dumbledore cheerily. "Even with all the children helping, she can't clean out this whole house without you."
Now Sirius did hurl his teacup at the wall. It shattered against the stones. Tea dripped into a dark puddle on the floor, still steaming.
"I did not join the Order," he hissed between clenched teeth, "to clean a bloody house."
"But that's just it," said Remus, his voice still low and steady. "You're too important to the Order for us to let you risk your safety on a routine mission that anyone could do."
"Think of your godson," said Dumbledore. "If you were captured, by either side, Harry would be devastated."
Sirius snatched another teacup from the table and sent it after the first one, feeling a flush of hostile triumph when the crash of china on stone made the old man wince.
Remus didn't flinch. He stood his ground and met Sirius's savage scowl with a silent plea for understanding.
Understanding, my arse, thought Sirius. I'll give you understanding when you're the one they won't let leave this pit of horrors.
He stalked out of the kitchen without another word and pounded up four flights of stairs to Buckbeak's room.
What made him angriest of all was that he knew they were right.
The malevolent old grandfather clock ground out a wheezy chime. Remus blinked at the book he held open on his lap, realising that he hadn't turned a page in at least a quarter of an hour. He set the book aside and ran a hand slowly over his face.
It was late. The children had gone to bed long ago, and by now surely Molly and Arthur had done the same. Remus shouldn't have been up this late, either, not so close to the full moon. But he was waiting in the library, trying to read amidst the cobwebs and the half-sorted piles of decontaminated books, just in case Sirius finally decided to come downstairs.
Remus had returned from his surveillance mission in time for supper. Sirius, however, had been conspicuously absent from the meal. Remus went upstairs once and said all the reasonable things he could think of through the locked door, but he got no response at all.
Now he stared at his hands, trying to convince himself that Sirius simply needed time to get used to the prospect of staying hidden away inside this house that he hated so much.
The alternative, of course, was that Sirius was holed up with Buckbeak because he thought that Remus's agreeing with Dumbledore had been a betrayal.
Remus sighed.
When they were all at Hogwarts, he never could have done the kind of thing he had done today, taking Dumbledore's side against one of his friends. He would have been too afraid of losing their friendship to take that kind of risk.
But Hogwarts was a long time ago. Remus understood, now, that some things were important enough to risk a friendship—or, this time, the possibility of rebuilding a friendship—for.
Still, that didn't make it any easier to face the fact that Sirius had refused to speak to him tonight.
Remus decided he could really use a cup of tea to quiet the dull ache in his stomach.
He made his way down to the kitchen. He had expected to find it empty at this hour. Instead, it was full of Molly, bustling about cooking a second supper and humming happily under her breath.
He started to back away—so late at night and so close to the moon, he really didn't feel capable of putting forth the effort it would require to be courteous to Molly Weasley—but she looked up and saw him.
She stopped humming, of course, and gave him the too-bright smile that was very familiar now. Remus smothered a weary sigh and smiled carefully back. If his retreat was blocked, at least he could still have his cup of tea.
"I had an owl a little while ago," Molly explained, gesturing vaguely at a simmering cauldron of stew. "Bill's due in from Egypt tonight, and Arthur's going to send him over from the Burrow." She pointed her wand at a small oven built into the wall of the fireplace. A fragrant golden loaf floated out and landed gently on a bread board that sat waiting on the table.
"Good," said Remus sincerely, tapping the kettle with his wand to start the water heating. "I'll be glad to have an expert opinion on some of the nastier curses we've turned up."
Molly looked extremely pleased at his words. Remus rather thought she might launch into stories of her eldest son's curse-breaking triumphs, and he fixed another polite smile on his face in preparation. But before she could say another word, Bill himself stepped out from the Floo, tall and lean with a red ponytail and a small rucksack slung over one shoulder.
"Oh, Bill!" Molly threw her arms around him. "I'm so glad you've come! There are so many dreadful things in this house—you have no idea. There's one cupboard, up on the third floor—it turns itself red-hot every time you touch it, and George tried wrapping a handkerchief around the door pull, but then he sprouted great green boils all over his hand—"
"Steady, Mum." Bill patted his mother gently on the back, laughing a little. "It's late here now, and even later in Egypt—we'll have plenty of time for all this in the morning. I'm staying for a few days, you know." He disentangled himself from her smothering hug and grinned. "And it looks like I'll be transferring to the London branch next month."
Molly's face lit up. "That's wonderful! But I thought you loved Egypt—what's happened?"
"Erm, you know, with all that's going on, I thought maybe Dumbledore could use another pair of hands around here."
Remus thought Bill might have flushed slightly as he spoke, but it might have been nothing more than an effect of the heat from the fire. In any case, Molly didn't seem to notice anything amiss.
"Hullo." Bill was smiling straight at Remus now, where he stood in the corner with his tea. "You're not Sirius Black. Unless the photos on those Ministry wanted posters are even worse than I thought."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Molly fluttered. "Remus, this is my son Bill. Bill, this is another Order member, a friend of Sirius's—Remus Lupin."
Bill's head came up sharply, and his eyes widened.
"Hello, Bill." Remus smiled and nodded, but he kept both hands on his teacup. He had learnt his lesson about wide-eyed Weasleys and handshakes.
Bill took a step closer, still staring. His gaze was as blue as Ron's. "The Remus Lupin?"
Now Remus slowly set the teacup down, forcing himself to unclench his fingers from around the handle before he snapped it off. "Probably," he said, in his very mildest voice.
Bill broke into a broad grin. "The Remus Lupin who did a freelance code-breaking project for Gringotts during You-Know-Who's first rise?"
"Oh." Now it was Remus's turn to stare. "I had no idea anyone knew about that."
"Are you joking?" Bill seized Remus's hand, shaking it vigorously. "It's an honour to meet you. That was an amazing piece of decryption. It's a case study in the Curse-Breaker training course—I had an exam on it."
"A case study." Remus shook his head, and his mouth curved into a small rueful grin.
"I can't believe you didn't know that." Bill laughed. "You're the Lupin who taught at Hogwarts, too, aren't you? My brothers and Ginny told me you were brilliant teaching Defence. I wasn't surprised to hear it." His open, friendly smile faded into a thoughtful frown. "The way things are going these days, you really ought to be teaching there still."
Remus raised both eyebrows. "That's hardly the majority opinion, you know."
Bill sighed. "People can be really stupid about things sometimes. Just ask the goblins."
"Bill, dear," Molly broke in. "Come and have some stew."
Remus almost thought her voice sounded a little subdued. But that was probably only wishful thinking on his part.
People who held strong opinions about werewolves were not, in his experience, likely to change their minds.
( On to Ch 5 ) ( Up to Chapter Index )
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Date: 2009-07-17 07:18 pm (UTC)When this gets all finished, I'm hoping to submit it to PhoenixSong, so I really appreciate feedback on this version-in-progress.