Foreshadowing the Unexpected

Chapter 22 - Surprising Revelations

Every great decision creates ripples--like a huge boulder dropped in a lake. The ripples merge, rebound off the banks in unforeseeable ways. The heavier the decision, the larger the waves, the more uncertain the consequences. --Ben Aaronvitch

Early the next morning, Connor was woken up by his owl tapping at the dormitory window. Connor wasn't sure why Clio insisted upon waking him up this way instead of just seeking him out at breakfast in the Great Hall, but today he didn't mind. He had slept poorly, and was more than ready to get out of bed.

He was surprised to see that Clio actually had a letter for him tied to her leg, and quickly untied it. There were three sheets of letter-sized parchment, which looked like letters from his parents and the twins.

Clio didn't seem inclined to leave once he relieved her of her burden and was beginning to nip at his ear and make mournful noises over his short hair. To keep her from waking the others, Connor hurried from the room. He went down to the common room to read his mail. There was no one else downstairs yet. A lone house elf was building up the fire as Connor settled into an armchair in front of it.

Clio fluttered up to the back of the chair and tucked her head under her wing, apparently intent on staying for a while. Connor opened his letters and began to read.

Dear Connor, his mother had written in her pretty script.

I'm so sorry.

Professor Lupin just contacted us and told us what happened at the match, and that you had been dismissed from the team. We know how hard this must have been for you, but we have to agree that it's for the best-- at least for now.

We wish there was something we could tell you that will make you feel better, but we know that you must be angry and upset. We don't blame you. Hopefully, you will work hard with Professor Lyra, and maybe, in time, you will be able to overcome the overwhelming feelings that are putting you in such danger. Obviously we can't write about it in the post, but we know that you understand what mean.

Study hard. Use the extra time that this will allow you to strengthen and learn new skills. We love you.

Love,

Mum & Dad

Connor sighed. It was pretty much what he had expected his mum to say. There would be no arguing about Lupin's decision, and any pleas or bargains would fall on deaf ears.

As he had expected, Ian and Adam's notes were short, and expressed their outrage at the injustice being visited upon their older brother. In Ian's words: How unfair is it that they load you up with a bunch of extra lessons for your Occlumency and Advanced potions, and then take you off of the team because you're not working hard enough in your classes? What did the expect?

Connor grinned at these words, picturing Ian's horrified face when he's heard the news that Connor had been taken from the team. Adam's words had been simpler, but no less heart-felt: That stinks!

The next piece of parchment bore Ian's sloppy scrawl, and there was a note from Adam at the bottom on it. The third piece of parchment was from Lucy, and she had filled both the front and the back of her parchment with her neat, tiny writing.

Lucy's letter was calmer, and more thoughtful.

Dear Connor,

First of all, I want to say I'm very sorry about them making you quit the team. I'm not sure I believe it was because of your grades, though. Connor's heart skipped a beat when he read this, and he paused to think that Lucy sounded like a small adult when she wrote.

There was something going on with you at Christmas that no one is telling us about, but I can't think what it could be. Ian and I have talked about it, and we're worried that you might be in some kind of bigger trouble than we're being told about. I hope that whatever it is, that you're being careful and taking care of yourself and your friends.

I hope that none of this has anything to do with the trouble you had last year. It was dreadful to know that someone at the school was causing you so many problems, and that she wanted to hurt you. I'll never forget how worried we all were about you, then, and Mum and Dad seem like they're even more worried now than they were then.

Of course with Adam falling from his broom, and him and you both being hurt, I suppose that Mum and Dad had good reason to worry. I hope that your stay at St. Mungo's is all that was making you all act so strangely. Somehow, I don't think so, though.

Whatever it is that's going on, I want you to know that you can talk to me if you need to. You've always been the 'special' one out of us kids, and that's been hard for all of us. I understand if you have to keep some secrets because of your precognition, but you really ought to find someone you can talk to about it, too.

I miss you.

Love,

Lucy

Connor was surprised at Lucy's perceptiveness. He read through her letter again, feeling bad about all of the secrets that he had been forced to keep from his brothers and sister. They were his family, and it didn't feel right not to include them in such important things. Still, he knew that the new discovery of his healing talent had to be kept strictly secret. It didn't mean he had to like it.

Leaving Clio napping on the back of the chair, Connor went up to his room to fetch the letter he had written the night before, and some fresh parchment and a quill. By the time he returned, Clio had woken, but didn't seem inclined to leave her warm perch.

He settled back down and wrote out replies. He assured everyone that he was angry but would be fine. To Lucy, he wrote a special letter insisting that his current troubles had nothing to do with his problems the previous year. and that she worried too much. He tried to make his note as light-hearted as possible without sounding fake.

When he was finished, he bundled up his letters and coaxed Clio into taking them. He watched her fly away from the common room window, then went down to breakfast.

-------0-------

The news of Connor's expulsion from the team had spread like wildfire. The few students that were at breakfast this early pointed as Connor entered the Great Hall and began whispering to each other excitedly.

"Hey, Potter," one of the Slytherins called from across the room, "I hear they finally kicked you off the team!"

Connor made a rude hand gesture at the other student and went to the Gryffindor table, where only a handful of younger students were sitting. They smiled hesitantly at him and looked as though they didn't know what to say. Connor spared them the awkward moment and sat down as far away from them as possible, not looking up at them again.

He was almost finished picking at the breakfast he had didn't really want when Quentin took a seat beside him. Rachel, Ivy and Zack sat down opposite. The looks on their faces told Connor that they knew about his expulsion from the team.

"We're sorry," Quentin said.

"Really sorry," Rachel added.

"Really, really sorry," Ivy said seriously.

Connor's lip twitched.

"Really, really, real--" Zack started, but Connor stopped him by laughing and holding up a hand.

"Okay," he smiled, feeling marginally better, "I get it. You're all sorry."

"Oh, Connor," Rachel said heavily, "why didn't you say you were so far behind in class?"

"I guess I let it slip away from me," Connor said with a shrug. "With all of the extra stuff on my schedule, I just got behind, and never really caught up."

Connor looked around to make sure the his friends weren't doubting his story. Rachel and Ivy looked sympathetic, but Quentin and Zack looked speculative.

"Guess you can figure out where I'm going to be spending most of my day, huh?" Connor said, trying to sound sardonic.

"Don't you have to go and see Madam Cosgrove for your weekly check-up today?" Ivy asked.

Connor was a little surprised at how well his friends knew his schedule. In his misery, he had forgotten about his lesson with matron, himself. "You're right," he said. "I almost forgot."

"We'll meet you in the library when you're done with her," Ivy said, "and we can help you get caught up on your work."

"Thanks, guys," Connor said when they all nodded in agreement. "But I can manage. It's not so much that I'm too far behind right now. It's that my overall work and test scores have been going downhill. I need to study, more than anything."

-----------0----------

Connor spent all morning on Sunday being tested by Madam Cosgrove. She had him sit in her office and label a blank chart that depicted all the different layers of a human hand in cross-section. The matron seemed pleased with his answers.

"I want you to study the proper incantation to heal a simple slice in the skin. Next Sunday, we'll let you attempt a wanded healing, and see how you do," she told him proudly.

Connor was a little bit nervous about this, but smiled and nodded before escaping back to his room to find the right spell.

The rest of the day was spent studying in the library (and then the common room when the library closed for the day) and getting caught up on his homework. He could now see how sloppy his recent schoolwork had been when he took the time to read it all through. He'd been in such a hurry to just get it done and move onto the next subject, or to get to Quidditch practice or extra lessons, that he hadn't been paying attention when he should have been.

At dinner on Sunday, Clio came in and sat on his shoulder for the entire meal, refusing to be coaxed into leaving until Connor stood up to leave the Great Hall.

Ivy and Rachel stayed behind to talk with some friends, but Zack and Quentin followed Connor out of the room and fell into step with him.

"You going to tell us why Lupin really pulled you from the team?" Quentin asked.

"I told you--" Connor began, but never got to finish.

"Yeah, you told us," Zack said. "But we're your best mates. You've never missed a homework assignment that we've seen. Even if your scores were low, they wouldn't have made you quit Quidditch. Look at how stupid some of the other players are. I'm surprised that Stewart Bramley finds his way back to his common room everyday on his own, and he's been a Beater for Slytherin for two years!"

"Look guys, my grades were getting bad," Connor said evasively. "Even if I didn't miss any homework, the stuff I was handing in was rubbish."

"So? They've never taken anyone off the team for bad grades before," Quentin pointed out.

"I don't reckon anyone's parents asked them to," Connor said, trying to inject a bit of anger into his tone. He didn't exactly say that his parents had demanded that he quit because of his grades, but it was heavily implied. "Everyone seems to think that my extra lessons are more important than Quidditch right now."

Zack and Quentin looked at though they might not really believe Connor's excuse, but were unsure.

"So what was going on with you at the match?" Zack asked. "I saw Lupin grab you and drag you off the pitch."

"I saw that that kid was going to fall just before it happened," Connor lied outright. He was counting on the confusion at the end of the game to make his story plausible. "I was already on the ground, running, before he fell. Lupin didn't want it to look like I had used my precognition to cheat or anything, so he grabbed me before people could start talking."

Zack and Quentin seemed to accept this excuse.

"And then Lupin told your parents about it, and that was that," Quentin guessed.

"Pretty much," Connor said. "That, on top of my grades and everything else."

"Probably still spooked about what happened to Adam as Christmas, too," Zack added.

"Probably," Connor echoed, letting them fill in the blanks in his story. "Anyway, I'm off the team until I can get things back under control, and handle practices along with my other classes."

"So they might let you back on?" Quentin asked eagerly.

"Not anytime soon," Connor said as they approached the portrait of the Fat Lady. "They expect me to be able to completely control my precognition and Occlumency, on top of everything else."

"How long will that take?" Zack asked.

Connor simply shrugged. "I don't know."

--------------0--------------

Monday morning brought thick grey clouds with it and a promise of snow later in the day.

Connor sat through a mildly interesting Care Of Magical Creatures class, but it wasn't as fun without Zack there. The Hufflepuffs and Slytherins tended to segregate themselves from each other, and Connor usually sat in the centre of the room, between the two groups.

History of Magic was a boring, droning lecture on the introduction of gold, silver and bronze coins as wizarding money, instead of the peculiar flat stones that were precursors to the Galleon, Sickle and Knut. Connor dutifully took notes and paid attention as best he could under Ivy's watchful eye.

At lunch, Ivy and Rachel both seemed inordinately interested in Connor's morning lessons. It took him a few minutes to realize that this was their way of checking to make sure he was paying attention in class so that he didn't fall behind again.

Clio made an appearance at lunch as well, and happily ate the owl treats the Connor fished from his pocket before taking the letter he had written to Clive Sharpe.

He still kept in touch with his first Occlumency teacher and had promised to keep him up to date with his lessons with Professor Lyra. Connor got the feeling that they knew each other, but neither one ever really confirmed it when he asked leading questions about it. They definitively knew of each other, but Connor was unable to find out more.

After lunch, Connor grabbed a apple and a biscuit from the table and shoved them into his pockets before dashing off to Advanced Potions.

Potions was one subject in which Connor had not dared fall behind, nor hand in shoddy work. He enjoyed the challenging lessons, and always had the assigned chapters read before hand.

Snape didn't treat him any differently than anyone else, but at the end of class, asked him to stay behind.

"Your revised notes on the Blood Purification and Replenishing Potion are acceptable. You will come to classroom number three on Wednesday evening at six o'clock to attempt to brew it under my supervision. All of your supplies will be provided. Do not be late."

"Yes, sir," Connor answered feeling as though he might burst from excitement.

He would have to make sure to read over his notes several more times before Wednesday to make sure that he got everything right.

------------0-----------

When Connor got to Defence Against the Dark Arts, he chose a seat at the back of the room. He was still feeling a certain amount of resentment toward Professor Lupin for his decision, even though he knew deep inside that it was the only one that made sense.

His friends sent each other knowing looks, and joined him at the back of the room, even though it looked like it was going to be a very interesting lesson. Ms Grayson was standing at the front of the room, appearing to be very tense, and Professor Lupin stood beside her with a mild expression on his face. They waited for everyone to be seated, before Lupin took up a piece of chalk and wrote one word silently on the blackboard: werewolves.

The students shifted in their seats, and Connor quickly turned his page to the chapter that dealt with Lycanthropy. In the normal course of events, today's lesson should have been about kelpies. Why had they skipped ahead?

"I am going to be going out of town on personal business in a couple of days," Lupin announced to the class. "I should be gone for two weeks or more, and I didn't want to leave this subject matter to another teacher to cover with you. For obvious reasons, I believe that I am the most qualified to teach it."

There were a few uncertain chuckles among the students. All of them knew, of course, that their professor was a werewolf, but it was always referred to in broad terms: I won't be here because of the full moon, or that sort of comment. The professor didn't shy away from the topic, but he had never really gone into detail about it with the class.

Connor thought he most likely knew more about Lupin's transformations than most of the other students, because Lupin had always been like family to him.

"How many of you here today," Lupin began in a clear, firm voice, "have ever seen a werewolf in wolf form? Pictures don't count."

No hands were raised. Not even Connor's.

"How many have seen pictures?" Lupin asked.

Nearly all the hands in the class rose.

"How many of you know how to kill or incapacitate a werewolf?" he asked calmly.

Connor raised his hand, as well as three other people, who looked less sure about the answer.

"Only four?" Lupin asked with a raised eyebrow. "I'm not asking you how many of you think you could do it, just how many of you know to kill, or bring down, a werewolf."

One of the four thought twice and lowered her hand, and five others raised theirs.

"I see," Lupin said. "Well, that's a starting place. First, let's go over things that can harm a werewolf. Who can name one?"

"Silver?" Bruce Thorne called out after raising his hand.

"Silver's good," Lupin answered. "It will slow a werewolf down, even in his human form. It's a common misconception that a werewolf will flee from the very sight of silver, but should that silver enter the bloodstream, or be ingested, serious illness very much like poisoning will occur. Anyone else?"

Connor dutifully raised his hand.

"Connor?" Lupin called on him with a serious look on his face.

"Beheading," Connor began, "a well-aimed Reductor curse--"

Connor could have continued, but Lupin held up a hand to forestall him. "Good. Beheading is usually effective with most creatures, though there is a high risk involved in getting close enough to do the deed. Simple severing charms are useless in the case, and a werewolf in wolf form is nearly impervious to many forms of magic. Stunning spells, Shield Charms and Body Binds are equally useless. The Reductor curse is most likely to be your best bet from a distance, but your aim must be very good. Who can tell me what a werewolf's most vulnerable point is?"

Connor raised his hand, but Lupin minutely shook his head. He clearly wanted the other students to take a guess. He called on Cleo Valentine, who guessed, "His heart?"

Lupin shook his head. "A Reductor curse is more than likely to rebound off of a werewolf's hide. The most sensitive points are going to be the eyes, nose, mouth and ears. Most specifically the eyes. Your aim should be in destroying the brain."

The class looked mildly ill, and yet fascinated at the same time. Professor Lupin spoke in a commanding voice, with no hint of anger or embarrassment in his tone or expression. Ms Grayson appeared a little paler than Connor was used to seeing her, and she was still holding herself stiffly.

Connor thought back to the kiss that he had witnessed between his teachers, and wondered if she was just disturbed to hear Lupin talking so calmly about ways his students might kill him, should the need arise.

"Muggle weapons," Lupin continued, "have also been known to be effective, if properly aimed. There are specifics in your text book on Muggles who have encountered a werewolf and lived to tell the tale--before their memories were modified, of course. Reading about them will be part of your homework assignment."

No one complained or groaned, as was usual when homework was assigned.

"How many of you would try to kill me if I was in wolf form, and threatening you? Keep in mind that you know it's me--but that's all you know." Lupin's eyes travelled around the room at the uncomfortable students squirming in their seats.

Connor raised his hand immediately, as did only a handful of others. Ivy looked torn, but eventually raised her hand, as did Quentin. Zack didn't, and was looking at the others in surprise.

"Every single one of you should have your hand in the air," Professor Lupin told them. "No exceptions. Everyone who has your hand up now, put them down, and everyone who didn't raise their hand, put them up now."

Connor dropped his hand, and watched as Zack and the others raised theirs.

"Mr Ellis," Lupin called on Zack, "what would stop you from trying to kill me?"

"Well," Zack said. "You take the Wolfsbane Potion every month, so you wouldn't be dangerous."

A few other students with their hands in the air nodded in agreement.

"Wrong," Lupin said simply. "You can all put your hands down, now."

Everyone did, and waited to hear what Lupin would say next. It was as if the entire class had been holding their collective breath since the word werewolves had been written on the black board.

"The Wolfsbane Potion," Lupin said as he moved to stand behind his desk, "is not a cure. It was invented about a quarter of a century ago. Its primary use is to ease the transformation a werewolf goes through at the time of the full moon, so that that the primal urge to hunt and kill humans is abated. It also helps with the physical stress of the change, and the prevention of self-mutilation. Since most werewolves lock themselves up each month to prevent accidents, an un-dosed werewolf will turn on itself. The Potion allows the drinker to keep their human mind and thoughts inside of the wolf's body. It also somewhat tranquillises the wolf, to make it sluggish, and aids in healing afterward."

There was the scratching of quills suddenly, as the students remembered that they should be taking notes on all of this.

"Under the influence of the Wolfsbane Potion," Lupin continued, "the werewolf is still a dangerous dark creature. Should the wolf be provoked, instinct will still cause it to bite, or even kill. A werewolf bite is still infectious to the victim if the wolf that bit them has had the wolfsbane. Never, never, make the mistake of thinking that a werewolf that has had the potion is harmless."

Lupin paused to let the students catch up with him in their note-taking and consulted his own notes while he waited.

"My original question was: How many of you would try to kill me if I was in wolf form, and threatening you? If I were in my wolf form and threatening you, you should assume that I had not had any Wolfsbane Potion, and was a complete werewolf in every sense of the word. Without the potion I would not be able to distinguish between a friend or an enemy, nor would I care. Werewolves are killers. They will hunt humans almost exclusively, and are not out to make more of their kind."

"What do you mean?" Darcy Layton asked.

"I mean," Lupin said simply, "that werewolves aren't going to just bite a victim and walk away, happy that they have damned another person to Lycanthropy for the rest of their life. They don't think that way. Propagation of the species is the farthest thing from their mind--they hunt to kill. That's all."

The class fell into thoughtful silence. Then Zack asked what most of them were probably thinking. "How did you become one, then?"

"I was attacked and bitten when I was eight years old," Lupin said. "My father managed to drive the werewolf away with a Muggle gun, and got me to safety."

"And then you were a werewolf?" Darcy asked meekly.

"Yes," Lupin answered. "The infection passed into my bloodstream and began its work in changing me, both physically and magically.

"How long does that take?" asked Daniel White.

Lupin answered thoughtfully. "The magical part happens almost immediately. I was tested with in hours of being bitten, and it was confirmed that I had in fact contracted the disease. The physical part, for me, was more gradual. The bite I sustained took a very long time to heal, and no amount of magical medicines could hurry it along. The rest of the actual physical changes took much longer. For some reason, the physical changes don't begin until after the first transformation takes place. The first transformation into wolf form seems to be the trigger for the rest of the physical changes to take place--if the victim survives the first transformation. Some don't. Muggles don't become werewolves--they just die from the stress to their systems."

"What did people do before the Wolfsbane potion?" Quentin asked.

"They turned into murderous creatures every full moon," Lupin answered bluntly. "My own parents were forced to lock me in a magically reinforced steel cage in the basement of our house. Having no way to escape, and no one else to attack, I turned on myself. I have many scars from youth, where I bit and scratched myself over the years. Magical healing can only do so much, and Lycanthropy carried such a huge stigma with it, that my parents were reluctant to seek out the aid of healers, in case the secret got out, and I was hunted. My family moved around a lot."

"I think that maybe this is where I should come in," Ms Grayson said from the front of the room.

She stepped forward, still holding herself somewhat stiffly, and Lupin laid a hand on her shoulder in a gesture of support.

"Ms Grayson was gracious enough to agree to share her own experiences with a werewolf with the class," Professor Lupin told them. He stepped aside, but stayed close to her while she cleared her throat and began to speak.

Connor sat forward in his chair with interest, wondering what she could possibly have to say. He definitely wasn't expecting her next words.

"My brother was a werewolf," she said firmly, as if it was hard for her to get out. She relaxed a little once that opening statement was made.

Was? Connor asked himself, wondering what she was going to tell them next.

"Martin was three years older than me. He was seventeen when he was bitten, and had just graduated from Hogwarts. An Auror had been tracking the werewolf that bit Martin--it had already killed one person in a nearby village, a Muggle. My parents ran an apothecary, and so my brother and I had gone out in the forest near our house for them, looking for a particular flower that only blooms at night, during the full moon. He tried to shield me, and was bitten moments before the Auror caught up with the werewolf. The Auror killed it before Martin and I were ripped to shreds."

Ms Grayson's eyes had gone out of focus as she spoke, and Connor could tell that she was reliving the memory in her mind. "It was hard for us to believe, at first," she said. "Then the day before the next full moon arrived, and the Auror who had killed the werewolf came to our house, and showed our parents how to restrain Martin, and which spells to use on the shed where they were going to have to keep him during his time in wolf form. He'd brought shackles with him that would change shape with Martin and bind him while he was dangerous. That brought home to us just how serious it all was."

Ms Grayson's voice shook a little as she told her story, but there was not another sound in the classroom. Not one student moved, fidgeted or even took notes. All eyes were on her.

"Soon, we learned how to live with it. The Auror who helped us that first time, continued to come each month for a year, out of guilt, I think, for not arriving in time to prevent Martin's bite." Ms Grayson folded her arms in front of her and said quietly, "My brother escaped his bonds one night two years later. I had just graduated from Hogwarts, and my mother had fallen ill, and we were so focussed on her that we just weren't paying much attention to the Lunar calendar, I'm afraid."

Connor could see that she was shaking slightly, though it wasn't cold in the room. Professor Lupin conjured a glass of water for her, which she paused to drink before she continued in a thick voice.

"By the time my father realized that Martin had escaped, my brother was already halfway to the nearest village. My father followed on a broomstick, but just barely made it in time. My brother--the werewolf that my brother had become--had broken in through the window or a Muggle house, and had the family there cornered. My father was just barely in time to save them.

"He used a silver knife, and threw it so that it stuck into the wolf's side. It was just enough of a distraction to get its attention away from the Muggles. He - it - spun around to face my father, and my father--" Ms Grayson swallowed hard, and had tears glistening in her eyes. "my father used a Reductor curse in his eye. It killed him."

The class was entirely silent.

Professor Lupin put a comforting arm around Ms Grayson, and Connor felt desperately sorry for both of them. More than one student looked teary eyed, and nearly all of them jumped, startled when the bell signalling the end of class rang.

"I want everyone to write an essay on how to recognise a werewolf," Lupin said. He didn't need to raise his voice to he heard, "and a list of all of a werewolf's weaknesses. I should be here for our next class on Wednesday. I'll be leaving on Wednesday night. We'll have questions and answers then."

It was clearly a dismissal, though several of the students looked like they wanted to ask or say something.

Connor collected his books silently and left the classroom with his friends.

"What a way to end the day," Zack commented quietly as they headed back to the common room.

"Poor Ms Grayson," Ivy said sadly.

"Poor Mr Grayson," Quentin added. "Imagine having to kill your own son."

"That wasn't his son," Connor said, suddenly feeling a little angry at fate. "That was a werewolf. His son didn't have any idea what he was doing."

"It's a terrible choice to have to make, though, isn't it?" Zack said quietly.

"Yes," Connor said. "Terrible." He could picture it all only too well in his mind, and shuddered slightly at the mental image of the massive wolf turning, looking down the end of a wand, with no way of knowing or controlling what was going on.

That poor man would have had to go home to his family and tell them what had happened. The Muggles would have needed to be dealt with, and a family was scarred forever by something that wasn't any of their fault.

"Thank Merlin for the Wolfsbane Potion," Ivy said as they climbed the stairs, tearing Connor away from such morbid thoughts.

Connor nodded, but his mind was whirling. The Wolfsbane Potion wasn't working very well anymore, was it? Lupin, and others like him, were beginning to build up an immunity to its helpful properties. Wasn't that why Professor Lupin was going out of town yet again? In search of something better than the Wolfsbane Potion?

And what about Ms Grayson? Connor was sure that Lupin had feelings for her, but what kind of life could they have together if the potion that kept him sane and healthy was beginning to fail? Was that the real reason for all of the trips abroad?

All of these thoughts crowded his mind as he joined his friends at a table in the common room to make a start on their homework.