After the Rain

Chapter 4

Fathers and Wanderers

The room instantly hushed. Dimly, Harry marvelled at the transition that had occurred from urgent whispering and the creaking of chairs to almost deathly stillness. It was a penetrating stillness, one that seemed to press against the very walls. It was so thick one could have cut through it with a knife, and it seemed to last forever, though he knew it couldn't have been more than a few moments. Finally, voice shaking, Alex spoke.

"What?" he asked simply.

The headmaster looked back at him unblinkingly. "You're father is here, at this very moment. It may seen impossible, but it is the truth. He's teaching, here, at the school. He is one of the best men I have ever had the privilege of knowing, and I am truly sorry you haven't had the opportunity to meet him at all. He would have been a wonderful father to you had he had the chance."

Alex just gaped.

Harry was repulsed for the second at the thought of Snape being the boy's father, which was the first thing he thought of. Then something twigged. The boy's hair, and his eyes, even the way he was sitting - they were much younger versions of --

"His name is Remus Lupin, and I have never had a finer Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Even having known you for a short time I can tell you have much of him in you. His wisdom, and loyalty and kindness all reflect themselves in your eyes." Dumbledore suddenly leaned forward, closer to the boy that sat in front of him, who was gripping the seat so hard his knuckles were white. Dumbledore searched his face, and that of Cass's, who had come up behind him and was gripping his should reassuringly with one hand. Harry was oddly touched at the bond that seemed to exist between the two friends, so strong you could almost sense it in the air like static electricity.

"You're not lying?" Alex asked dazedly, hope and disbelief battling for control over his face.

"I am not."

"Where is he then? Why isn't he here? Doesn't he know?" Harry watched as the now desperate-seeming boy craned his neck and looked around behind everything he could look behind from his position. The way he looked then, it was almost as if Harry could see past the now almost-grownup face and see the child he must have been. Harry felt a wave of sympathy wash over him as he watched - he knew what it was like to grow up without a father.

"He is not here, Alexander. He does not know you have come. In truth, he did not ever expect to meet you, though I do for a fact know that the greatest desire of his heart has always been to be able to be a real father to you."

"Professor," Hermione said tentatively, "How can Professor Lupin be his father? And isn't it unsafe for...people of his kind to procreate?"

"An excellent question, my dear girl. I do not know the details of the thing, but I do know this: when Professor Lupin was a little older than yourselves, he fell in love with a girl. I believe her name was Sara Browning." Alex started, and Cass gripped his shoulder even tighter. "She loved him back, and she stayed by his side as long as she could, but she was never part of this world, and never would be, and they both knew it. It is a proven fact that one cannot live in a different time period forever. You get physically ill.

"They never married, because Remus didn't want her to be persecuted for marrying him, considering what he was. I think she would have in a heartbeat, if given the chance, however. They lived together after Remus graduated from Hogwarts, and I don't think I have ever seen two people more in love, except for maybe your parents, Harry." At this, Harry smiled softly. "But, as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. He woke up one morning, precisely four years after she had come, and she was gone. She was three months pregnant with you at the time."

"What happened to her?" Alex half-whispered.

"Seven months passed, with Remus becoming more and more heartsick with every passing day. Then one day, she turned up again, on his doorstep. She lasted just long enough to tell him she loved him, and then she coughed and died, right there in his arms. I don't think he has ever quite gotten over that loss."

A loud sob erupted from Hermione behind the headmaster, breaking the reverent atmosphere. "It's so sad!" she wailed, burying her face in the handkerchief Malfoy handed her while rolling his eyes.

"Do you know why she died?"

"She caught pneumonia trying to make her way back to your father, and she had only had you a few weeks earlier."

Hermione sobbed even harder into the borrowed handkerchief.

Alex walked over to the window wordlessly and took up Cass's earlier position.

"What is he?" he asked, still looking out on the snow covered grounds.

"Pardon?" Dumbledore asked curiously.

"You said something about them not getting married because of what he was. What is he?" he answered impatiently.

The headmaster resumed an air of gravity immediately, and Harry could tell he was trying to find the best way to explain.

"Just tell him," he said quietly.

Dumbledore sighed. "He's a werewolf," he said simply.

Alex blanched. "A...a..."

"He's a good man," Harry said suddenly. "He was one of my dad's best friends until he died, and the only one left I would ever consider trusting. When I had problems, he tried to help even if he couldn't really do anything."

"Mister Potter speaks the truth. He is the one of the finest professors I have ever had the privilege to employ, and he had never broken my confidence. People reject him because he's a lycanthrope, but he's a better person than most who scorn him. His compassion and sense of honour shows through everything he does, and he's never dishonest or rash. Really, if all men were like Remus Lupin, we would live in a far better world."

Alex almost smiled at this. Then something seemed to register. "If he's a werewolf, doesn't that mean I am one as well?"

"Under normal circumstances, yes, but Professor Snape, our Potions Master, always had a soft spot for Sara. When she became pregnant, he locked himself in his laboratory for nearly two months, perfecting a variation of the Wolfsbane Potion that is meant to be consumed by the mother. The concoction removes the mutant werewolf genes from the fetus's DNA and voila, you have a normal child."

To this, Hermione looked satisfied again, and Alex looked relieved. "Will I get to see him?" he queried.

"I have him scheduled for a meeting in my office at two o'clock this afternoon for that very purpose."

Harry watched the look of bewildered happiness blossom over his face with mild envy. To be able to meet his father...

Suddenly, the door opened and in bounced Courtney, carrying a large parcel. "Professor, I have your thingys--" she started to say, but was cut off as she tripped on the blanket that had fallen to the floor from Cass's bed, sending the package flying from her grasp. Lithely, the headmaster sprung forward and caught the box deftly in his hands, making the patients blink with amazement.

Courtney slowly got up, an apologetic look plastered on her reddening face.

Malfoy shook his head sadly. "And you're so graceful on the Quidditch field..." he moaned.

She turned sharply toward him. "If I wanted to hear the squealing of pigs, Malfoy," she said, saying his name like an insulting swearword, "I would walk down to one of the farms surrounding Hogsmeade." She shot him a disgusted look.

Ron started to guffaw, but quit hastily at the glare Hermione sent him. "I knew I liked that girl," Ron muttered to Harry, who immediately started to cough far too loudly.

"Thank you, Miss Wirth, that will be all," he said, dismissing her. "You have undoubtedly missed curfew, so here's a note in case anyone should stop you." He handed her a slip of parchment.

"I don't even get to see what it is I went all the way to Hogsmeade for?" she asked, looking thoroughly disappointed.

"No, I'm afraid not, but maybe Miss Weasley will tell you tomorrow." He chuckled, and behind him, Ginny flushed.

"Oh, come on, Professor! Please?"

"No, I'm sorry, but I can't allow that. However, if you would, I would appreciate it greatly if you would run and fetch Madam Trelawney for me," he said, ushering he out of the door.

"What do you want that old bat for?" she asked incredulously, as if she could hardly comprehend the fact that the batty retired Divination teacher would get to sit in on whatever this was, but she was being kicked out.

"Courtney," he chided gently. "Just go and fetch her for me, please?"

"Oh, alright," she mumbled, as he closed the door.

Dumbledore turned back to the young people in the room, who were all staring at him expectantly.

"Well then," he said, rubbing his hands together. "Mister Browning, if you'll open that parcel, I believe there are a few items for your friends."

Alex, who had been silent up until then, looked quizzically at him, but obeyed. Inside, there were numerous oddly-shaped packages. "Give one of the long thin packages to both Cassandra and Cary," Dumbledore instructed.

Inside them were what Harry recognized as two identical looking wands, made of a very dark wood. Picking hers up curiously, Cass looked at the headmaster questioningly. "Are these wands?" she asked.

"Indeed they are," he answered. "They are meticulously crafted wands, specifically designed for external witches or wizards. They're made from a tree that only grows in the mountains of eastern Europe, and the wood is harvested when the trees are over a thousand years old, at the full moon. With these, you shall be able to cast most spells."

Cass looked excited. "Can I try?" she asked eagerly.

"Well, I don't see why not.. A simple lighting spell should be fine. Concentrate your mind on the end of the wand and say 'lumos."

Cass picked up the wand by the hilt and looked at it determinedly. A small wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows as she said the incantation. Instantly, the end began to glow. Cass was so astonished, she almost dropped it. "Wow!" she exclaimed, looking as if Christmas had come early. Dumbledore chuckled. "Cary, did you see that? I did magic!" she said, bouncing up and down in her seat as if she were ten years younger. Cary grinned and fingered his own wand.

"What else is in here?" Alex asked, digging through the contents. He brought out a circularly shaped flat object wrapped in brown paper.

"That goes to Cassandra."

Alex handed it to her, and curiously, she opened it. Inside was a very plain, green tinted mirror, rimmed in copper.

"What is it?" she asked, turning it over in hopes of finding some clue towards it's identity. All she found, however, was that she could now see through the green glass.

"When Professor Trelawney gets here, I will explain it." And he didn't say any more.

Hermione however, looked as if something were dawning on her. "Is that a Seering Glass?" she murmured.

Dumbledore just smiled at her mysteriously. "There is also a stand for it, I believe," he said. And indeed, the next item to be unwrapped was indeed a metal stand made from the same copper that rimmed the mirror.

"Now, the three heavy squares are books, for all three of you. They are not regular books, however. These catalogue all the spells that appear in The Standard Book of Spells, volumes one through seven. They only have volume one in them right now, but as soon as you work your way through it, the second volume spells will magically replace the first." Hermione looked awestruck.

"And that, I believe is all. Alexander, you will get your wand tomorrow, because we will have to visit Ollivander's for it." At this, Alex looked very pleased.

"Will my father be coming too?" he asked, almost shyly.

"If you want him too, I'm sure he would love to come," Dumbledore said. "Well, all we have to do now is wait for Professor Trelawney."

Ron rolled his eyes, and an audible moan was heard from Harry. Dumbledore chuckled.

"Excuse me - Professor - there's something else in here," Alex said, lifting a small squashy package out of the box. "You left this at my house the other night, Love Alexandra," he read off a tag on the outside.

Dumbledore grabbed it out of Alex's hands immediately. "It's nothing. Pumpernickel bread," he said hastily, a deep blush rising on his cheeks.

Ron snickered.

~

Thirty minutes later, the retired Divination instructor still had not come. Dumbledore didn't look perturbed, but Draco was pacing again, and Ginny had fallen asleep in her chair. Hermione was doing homework, which wasn't surprising. Cary was exploring the cabinets and closets, and Cass was playing a game of chess with Ron, with Harry watching. Every once in a while, she would emit a gasp as one of the pieces was taken. "It's so brutal!" she had exclaimed earlier. "I wish we had chess like this back home!"

Alex still sat on the bed, contemplating how to approach the dark man stirring the cauldron, the one he had been told had virtually saved him from being a werewolf. People would be even more afraid of me than they already are, he mused as he pondered what being a lycanthrope would be like, and deciding he wouldn't like it.

Steeling his resolve, he stood up and made his way over to the bubbling potion being brewed. The man named Snape looked at him expressionlessly for a few moments before turning back to his concoction, which had just turned a bright, clear shade of blue.

"Uh...is it supposed to be that colour?" he asked nervously.

Snape looked up. "You have her face," he said ignoring his question.

Alex was slightly taken aback. "Really?" he asked.

"Really. Your facial expressions are the same, especially when you smile. But you have Lupin's eyes," he said, not looking up, but instead at his potion, which he was adding something Alex did not want to know the identity of.

"Is this a good thing?"

"I'm the wrong person to ask that question of."

"Oh." Alex looked at his shoes, which were caked with mud. "Umm...thank you." He noticed that one of his shoelaces had been broken and retied.

"You're welcome," he said briskly. "I would have done anything for Sara," he added, softer.

Alex looked up. "You loved her, didn't you?"

"I suppose I did, but not in the way you're thinking of. She held nothing against me, ever. She wasn't as biased against me as her boyfriend or his friends were, and was kind to me from the start. She was the only person I've ever met who trusted me that readily, except Potter's mother. She simply did not understand why they hated me so much," he looked at Alex thoughtfully, a very strange expression on such a normally cold face.

"I think I understand.," Alex replied slowly.

"They were friends, you know," he said suddenly.

"Who were?"

"Your mother and Potter's. They were amazingly alike, but infinitely different. Your mum was more relaxed, I think, and Lily had a quicker temper. But they were both beautiful. I remember Black whinging one day to Lupin and Potter - Harry Potter's father, that is - about the fact that he was better looking than the both of them, and somehow, they had ended up with the better looking girlfriends. Black always was a complainer. She was a good person, you'd be lucky to get her half of the gene pool." And with that, he turned back to his cauldron, and didn't say anything else.

Alex went back to his seat feeling slightly dazed.

~

"That was just a tad out of character for Snape," Ron muttered to Harry as he sipped the pumpkin juice Dumbledore had procured.

"Maybe he's been sniffing cauldron fumes too much," Harry sniggered.

Ron snorted. "No, but seriously. Since when does he get all emotional like that?"

"Never that I've seen, that's for sure. It's odd to think this Alex bloke's mum was my mum's best friend," he added thoughtfully.

"I wonder why Lupin never mentioned he had a son?"

"I dunno. Probably because he never figured we - or him - would ever get to meet him. He didn't see the point." Harry looked across the room. "Cass is pretty funny though. Kinda in a way reminds me of Ginny, in how she treats her brother."

"Poor Cary," Ron muttered.
"Hey," Harry said, chuckling, "remember when Ginny dated Malfoy last fall? That was hilarious, in the common room when she told you to 'get your head out of your arse and realize that your opinion isn't the word of God and to 'grow up'. I never realized how sharp of a tongue she had before then." Harry threw back his head and laughed outright.

"Merlin, don't remind me. I never understood what she saw in him."

"An excellent person to lose her virginity to," Harry replied, deadpan. Ron choked on his juice.

"Don't do that!" he sputtered. "I'm going to have nightmares for a month now!"

Harry laughed again heartily, a sound Ron hadn't heard come from s best friend for a long time and reluctantly, he smiled too.

"No, actually, I didn't like it when she went on that venture either. I was worried the entire time," Harry said, more seriously.

Ron grumbled something inaudible back.

"Your sister," Harry said, shaking his head.

"What about her?" Ron asked defensively.

"She's just...not a little girl anymore, is she? Ever since about last year, she's really come into her own. It's hard to believe she was ever the shy, love struck little girl I first met. Now she's bold, and does things deliberately because people tell her she shouldn't. Malfoy wouldn't have looked twice at her a few years ago, but since the middle of last year, I've seen him watching her." He looked at his best friend searchingly.

"Yeah, and their relationship now isn't any better," Ron muttered.

"I agree, but at least we know she isn't shagging him any more," Harry pointed out. "And she isn't hanging out with him alone when she does. Dean's there most of the time." Dean Thomas had been assigned to help Malfoy create the decorations for the Yule Ball, and had become allies, in a manner of speaking. Harry suspected Dean was partly just unwilling to leave Ginny alone with him, but knew that wasn't all of it. Malfoy had discovered that not all Gryffindors were that horrible and, surprisingly enough, Seamus hadn't minded much the strange camaraderie that had sprung up between the three. "As long as I don't have to be around him, I'm fine with it," he had told Harry.

Suddenly, Ron felt something sting at the back of his head. "What the hell was that for?" he swore, looking at his sister, who had apparently cuffed him.

"I have never shagged anyone, let alone Malfoy," she seethed, storming away.

Ron glared at Harry with intense anger. "I hate you," he muttered, rubbing his head.

~

"Headmaster, I am here," spoke the misty voice of Sybil Trelawney as she entered the infirmary.

"Ah, there you are Sybil," Dumbledore said, getting up from the chair he had been sitting in.

"What is it you need, Headmaster? Did you See something?" Her big insect-like eyes looked at him from behind their oversized spectacles.

"Ah, no, I'm afraid I have not, but rest assured, you are still going to be happy with why I have called you down here."

"Well then, please explain yourself," she said.

"I want you to take a close look at that girl sitting in the corner." If she found his request odd, she didn't say anything.

"The one with the black hair?" she asked, pointing at Cass.

"Yes, her name is Cassandra Stratton."

Wordlessly, Madam Trelawney advanced, and Cass sent a pleading look at her brother, who shrugged.

She didn't get very far however, when she cried out. "Albus! Her eyes!"

"What about my eyes?" Cass asked defensively.

"Exactly. I want you to explain to Miss Stratton exactly what she is," Dumbledore said calmly.

Trelawney gulped and approached her nervously. "Miss Stratton?"

"Yes?" Cass looked puzzled.

"I want you to look into my eyes and tell me what you see."

Cass quirked an eyebrow. "And what would that prove?"

"Cassandra, just do as she says," Dumbledore said from behind her.

Cass gave him a shrewd look, but did as she was asked. Looking into the older woman's eyes, she noticed that she had the same eyes, in a way. They were black, with streaks of grey-green running through them.

"They're like mine," she said slowly.

"Yes, they are. Do you know what that means?"

"You're my great-great-great-great grandmother?" Cass asked brightly.

"Albus, what is she talking about?" Trelawney turned toward the headmaster.

"Never mind, Sybil. Cassandra, Madam Trelawney is our retired Divination professor. She was fired last year, because we had a few, er, problems, but I invited her back to help the present Divination instructor when he needs it. Officially, she is retired, but nonetheless, she lives here."

"So?" Cass was obviously confused.

Dumbledore rubbed his temples. "Cassandra, you are a Seer. Your eyes prove that fact."

Cass stared at him. "You're joking, right?" She laughed suddenly.

"No, Miss Stratton, I'm as serious as a case of Dragon Pox. And you are not an ordinary Seer, either. You are a Wanderer ."

"What?!"

"There are several classifications of Seers, however. There are Prophets, of which Madam Trelawney is classified--" Dumbledore started to say.

"You mean she's not a fake?" Ron interjected incredulously.

Dumbledore chuckled. "No, Ronald, she isn't. There are also Observers, who watch future events through their dreams, Oracles, who perceive the truth about the future and the past through trances and who are also called Diviners, and Wanderers, who you are. Wanderers are able to wander through places and times far away in spirit form, and are by far the rarest. Do you remember talking to me before you got here?" Dumbledore looked at her piercingly.

"Yes... you told me things were going to change..." Cass said faintly, as if barely remembering. "But I thought it was only a dream. I moved so fast, and everything was blurry..."

"Ah, but a dream it wasn't. And that wasn't the first time it has ever happened, is it?"

Cass closed her eyes and furrowed her eyebrows. "No," she said after a while. "It has happened before, but I thought I was dreaming."

"That is to be expected. But you can change how you do this. Before, it happened when you were asleep, correct?" Dumbledore asked her.

"Yes," she replied slowly.

"That is what this is for," he replied, picking up the green-tinted glass that lay on the bed. "It helps you channel your power, but where or when you will go is a mystery."

She stared at him for a while. Finally, she burst out, "Do you honestly expect me to believe all of this? I mean, I might, might be able to accept the fact that we've all suddenly travelled back in time hundreds of years and are currently standing in a room in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where Alex's father, whom we've never met, is a teacher. I might even be able to accept the fact that Albus Dumbledore is standing in front of us, with Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley behind him, explaining that given the right training, we could learn to perform spells and charms. I might learn to accept those facts, however ludicrous it might sound to anyone else. But do you really, seriously, expect my to just believe that I have some weird super fortune telling powers that I've never ever heard of before? Just believe this, no questions asked. To say, 'Oh yeah, Professor Dumbledore. I believe you when you say I can read crystal balls and tarot cards, even though I've never seen either one, or anyone with the so called powers you say I have'? You haven't given me any proof. None. Just some people who could very well be in elaborate costumes. In fact, I bet this entire thing is some complicated prank--"

Cary leapt forward and clapped a hand over her mouth. "You are getting just a tad loud, Cass." Lowering his hand, he added, "Has Mum ever gone to this extent to get a laugh? She's slightly evil occasionally, but she isn't malevolent." He looked at her solemnly. "And I believe him besides."

"Really?" she asked.

"Really," he replied firmly.

"Well then," she said quietly, looking down at the light blue dressing gown she was wearing. "Will you please tell me something at least? At least if you know the answer?" She looked at Dumbledore almost shyly.

"If I know the answer, I will answer you best as I can."

"How did we get here?"

Dumbledore looked at her for a long time. "It is my understanding," he began, "that you are here because of the intervention of Time and Fate. You see, Time and Fate are entire entities. They are conscious beings, though they hardly have a body or a voice. They brought you here, not anyone else."

"Then what was that golden stuff?"

"I believe that particular aspect of Time doesn't have a name. It's a part no human being is supposed to understand but, if it was to be named, I suppose what you saw was the very fabric of Time unravelling where you were in time and in the universe. It was weakening the barriers so that you could travel back. That, I believe is what you're asking."

"But Professor, why did we lose the ability to walk? And why were our clothes ruined? Those were my most comfortable pair of pants." Cass gave him a shrewd look, and missed the exasperated one Alex gave her.

"Think of it this way: You travelled back more than six centuries. That's a very long journey. It's basically the equivalent of walking the circumference of the earth several hundred times. If you did that, your legs and back would both suffer. As for your voice, that is simply a side effect of travelling back more than a year. It's Fate's way of preventing you from speaking of what you see. Serious trouble could ensue if you spoke of what you saw to the wrong person if you were not meant to go back. And your clothes were ruined because of the intensity of time travel. It's very strenuous on everything that goes through it. It's almost like going through a food processor. Everything but yourself is harmed."

"But the book," Draco suddenly said, speaking for the first time in several hours. "The book Cary's holding. It's not harmed."

"That, Mister Malfoy, is an entirely different matter," Dumbledore said.

"And why would that be?" Draco asked sardonically.

"Because Fate obviously didn't want it to be harmed. That is the only reason it could ever have escaped the damaging effects of it."

Draco blinked. "Right," he replied sarcastically. "The damaging effects of it."

Alex stepped forward. "Headmaster, are we done here yet? I'm really tired, and Cass won't quit yawning." Cass shot him a glare.

"Yes, I believe that will be all for tonight," Dumbledore said, sighing. "You will be staying in a guest wing, since you're not technically sorted into any of the four houses. I'll show you the way, follow me." He picked up his hat and the squashy package from his chair.

"Where's this so called guest wing?"

"Well, I suppose it's not so much a guest wing as a guest tower. It's one of the unused towers in the west wing." Dumbledore ushered them towards the door. "Mister Malfoy, I think it's time you are heading back to the Slytherin dormitories, and you four, I think had better be going to bed as well. The entrance to the tower is behind the statue of Irma the Insipid on the sixth floor, if you decide to drop in on them. The password is 'specula'. Now--" He opened the door to see them out, and in fell Courtney.

"Courtney!" Ginny exclaimed, seeing her best friend lying on the floor in front of her.

"Miss Wirth," Dumbledore said, giving her a stern look that made her blush to the roots of her hair.

"Detention with Filch for the rest of the week, I know," she mumbled, getting up.

"Try until the holidays come," he replied.

"Fine," she muttered. "I didn't hear anything, though. Someone soundproofed the door."

Dumbledore chuckled.

~

After many twists and turns, and doors and stairs, the headmaster stopped before a stone statue of an unremarkable looking witch with a bland expression.

"Specula," he said clearly. Instantly, the statue burst into life and jumped aside, giving Cass a menacing look in the mean time. Behind her, an opening in the stone wall had appeared and inside it was a set of stairs. Without hesitation, Dumbledore began to climb them. Looking at Cass, Alex shrugged and followed him, with Cary behind him. Shrugging off the nasty look the stature was giving her, she walked up the stairs after them.

~

They were almost to the Fat Lady, when Hermione grabbed Harry's arm with thoughtful look on her face. "What was the password Dumbledore told us?"

Harry looked as if he were trying to remember. "Spatula...?" he said, a confused expression on his face.

"It was 'specula'," chimed in Ginny, who had stopped to see what they were pausing for.

"Why?" Harry asked her, puzzled. "What does it mean?"

Hermione looked as if something had just made itself clear to her. "It's Latin," she said. "It means 'ray of hope'."