Remorse

Chapter Sixteen: The End of the Mission

After June had gone, Remus considered the implications of what he had discovered. So Ferdinand, or perhaps Fenrir himself, had instructed June to feed him the information about Merlin’s Fork. Why? Was it a lie intended to obscure their real plans? He was inclined to think not. If they had no intention of going anywhere near Merlin’s Fork, they would be none the wiser as to whether he had passed along the information or not.

If true, it was an elegant little trap. If the Order or the Ministry’s Werewolf Capture Unit met them there, the others would know he was the spy, and his life would be as good as forfeit. If he managed to get hold of some Wolfsbane and tried the same trick he had with the McCarthy girl, Fenrir would likely tear him to pieces on the spot. And if he did nothing, the werewolves would claim another life. Caligula Grackle’s death had not weighed so very heavily on his conscience since Tonks had told him about the man’s history, but this time it was likely to be an innocent life.

Suppose he decided to spring the trap and sacrifice himself. His best bet, if he wanted to cause as much trouble for the Lyceum as possible, was to send in a tip to the Werewolf Capture Unit. They had more manpower than the Order did, and they were authorized to use Unforgivables. What then? Fenrir would kill him if the Ministry’s hit wizards didn’t do the job for him, but the Ministry would evacuate the area and save Fenrir’s intended victim. And there was a good chance they would take out several of the other werewolves, perhaps even Fenrir himself.

Yes; on the balance that was probably the best way to proceed, but he didn’t like it. He knew it was selfish, but he didn’t want to die. Not without saying goodbye to his mother or Dora or Harry or the Weasleys. Secondly, if he did go through with it – what would happen at the next full moon and all the full moons after that? Who would protect the children then?

If he let things go according to plan at Merlin’s Fork, he kept his cover, but at what price? Fenrir would have his mind and he would not. The Lupus Maximus might induce him to do almost anything. He pictured himself waking in the chill light of dawn beside a child’s half-eaten corpse, and regretted that he had been so cold to Phil Craddock.

No. Neither of the possibilities open to him was bearable. There had to be some other way. He tried to reason it out.

He had one advantage over most of the other Lyceans: he was a highly trained wizard, and thank God he hadn’t surrendered his wand to June. He could, at the very least, cast another Disillusionment Charm himself, Apparate to the scene of the planned attack, and get the lay of the land, although he wasn’t sure what good that would do him when he dared not send word to his friends.

Two advantages, he reminded himself. At least he had friends.

His eyes fell on the Skiving Snackbox again, and he laughed out loud. He knew exactly what to do, and it was too perfect.

He Disillusioned himself, Apparated to Merlin’s Fork, and swallowed one of the Nosebleed Nougats.

By the time he returned home, an hour later, he was feeling shaky from the loss of blood but confident that the trail of false scent would lead the pack as far from civilization as possible. Let them howl for blood; they wouldn’t find any but his own.

 

                                                            *          *          *

“He hasn’t been in contact at all?” Tonks demanded. It was two days after the full moon, and more than a week since the last message she’d had from Remus.

Professor Dumbledore shook his head slowly. “It sounds as if you have heard from him more recently than I have. But this isn’t the first time he has found it difficult to contact us. All may be well with him.”

“It isn’t,” she said flatly. “He isn’t made for this kind of work. It’s killing him inside.”

Dumbledore sighed. He looked very old and tired. “I know,” he said at last. “If I could change it, I would. What are you asking of me?”

“I’m asking you to consider an exchange.”

He looked at her in surprise. “What sort of exchange?”

She shut her eyes, willed herself to stand upright through the waves of dizziness, and concentrated on the image of a werewolf bite scar. She pushed back the sleeve of her robes and looked up at him defiantly – or tried to, anyway. The room was swimming, and she couldn’t focus on his face.

“You are proposing to disguise yourself as a werewolf and join the Lyceum in his place?”

“Yes.”

“Sit down.”

She sank into the chair he had conjured, and hoped he hadn’t noticed how much even this brief Metamorphosis had cost her. Her sleeve fell over her arm again, and she allowed herself to relax.

“But you are not a werewolf. You would never be able to join them at the full moon.”

“No. But that isn’t expected of women.”

Dumbledore looked at her sharply. “Has he told you what is expected of women?”

“Yes.” She could bear it, she thought; it would be her choice, when children like Lila had never had a choice.

The old professor passed his withered hand over his eyes. “You have offered him a very great gift. Perhaps the greatest there is: the willingness to take another person’s suffering upon yourself. That said ... do you believe that he would willingly accept the sacrifice at your hands?”

“No. I know he wouldn’t.”

“Then it is better that you do not force it on him unwillingly. I am not saying that I haven’t placed an unfair burden upon him; I have, and it has haunted me every day for nine months. But accepting your offer would be still more unfair – to both of you. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she admitted, defeated.

 

                                                            *          *          *

Fenrir Greyback called another Lyconference only three days after the full moon. This was unusual; Remus still felt shaky and drained after losing so much blood and Apparating back from Merlin’s Fork, and he knew the others who had been on the raid couldn’t be in much better shape. Thanks to the false trail he’d set for them, they hadn’t even had a meal to sustain them.

He kept one hand on his wand as he entered the Great Den, and he watched the others closely. Inexplicably, June was standing at Ferdinand’s side, although there were no other women present except for a couple of the tough old birds who seemed to be treated by the other werewolves as honorary men. She avoided Remus’ eyes.

Greyback made a dramatic entrance in a swirl of Death Eaters’ robes, although the fact that they fit poorly and were obviously secondhand rather spoiled the effect.

“Oy, where’d you get them fancy robes?” asked Ripper.

“Yeah, are you a werewolf or a wizard?” called another heckler near the back of the group. Remus thought the voice might belong to the young chain-smoker, but he wasn’t certain.

Fenrir ignored the interruptions. “Brother Lyceans, I bring news,” he announced. “I’ll be away from the Forest for about twelve hours tonight, and I appoint Ferdinand Calabria my second-in-command while I’m away. Some of our allies are going on a raid tonight, and they were good enough to invite me along as their guest of honor. I ain’t saying I’m turning into one of ‘em” – he added before any more hecklers could get a word in “– but as you all know, this here is an ed-joo-cational organization, and this promises to be an instructional sort of evening in a lot of different ways, if you know what I mean. We’re going to see if I can pick up anything useful from ‘em, and we’re going to learn ‘em some things they never knew about working with werewolves. Like, I think they might find it’s more than they bargained for.”

There were some scattered cheers. Fenrir continued, “I promised ‘em about four or five men to serve as lookouts, so I’m going to be needing some volunteers.”

Remus raised his hand. Being invited along on a Death Eater raid – especially one on a scale that required five lookouts – was gold for a spy, and for the moment, he’d forgotten all about the risk of exposure.

Evidently Fenrir knew that it was gold too, because he looked right past Remus and called on a handful of men who had been with the Lyceum for decades, including Craddock, who hadn’t raised his hand at all and was now looking mutinous.

“When do we find out where we’re going?” Craddock asked.

“I’m the only one who gets to know that. I’ll give you the Apparition coordinates right before we leave, not before. But trust your old teacher – this is going to be big, make no mistake about that.”

The Lyconference broke up after a great deal of haranguing from Greyback and no more information of substance. As the other men were passing around flasks of Pinewine, Remus made his way outside. Standing just outside of the mouth of the Great Den, he could hear the other werewolves speculating about the night’s work, and the occasional burst of drunken laughter, but nobody seemed to have noticed anything amiss. He shut his eyes and concentrated on the message he wanted to send to Tonks: Greyback meeting with Death Eaters tonight, probably planning a big raid. Bringing five other werewolves along as lookouts. No word on where. He flicked his wand and murmured “Expecto Patronum!”

A silvery dove with a small scroll in its bill flew from his wand. He shaded his eyes and watched as it skimmed over the treetops and out of sight.

Dropping his guard had been a mistake. A sharp blow to the side of the head caught him unawares. He reeled, and his assailant grabbed him by the arm and wrested his wand out of his grip.

The tip of the wand jabbed him in the back of the neck. “The punishment for spying on the Lyceum is death,” said a familiar lisping voice. “I don’t think we really need a trial in this case, do we?”

“Drop the wand, Ferdinand. I know you don’t know how to use it.” Remus kept his voice steady; but his hopes of talking his way out of this plummeted when he turned and saw that Ferdinand was not alone. He was flanked by two burly Lupercalians, members of the punishment squad, and little June was standing behind the men and watching with wide, frightened eyes.

“With pleasure,” said Ferdinand. “I don’t need it, you see.” He threw the wand at June, like a man throwing a bone to a dog, and signaled to the Lupercalians, who seized Remus by both arms and slammed him to the ground.

He managed to kick one of his assailants in the abdomen, and the man’s grip slackened for a moment; then he recovered and hit Remus in the jaw with such force that his mouth filled with blood. Remus huddled on the ground and stopped trying to fight; his survival instincts told him it was hopeless. The other man shoved a knee into his kidneys.

And then a child’s voice shouted “Petrificus Totalis!” A heavy weight fell across his back, but after a moment he realized, dimly, that he wasn’t being beaten any more. A small hand closed on his arm.

He wasn’t sure whether he had either the mental focus or the energy to Apparate safely, but it seemed to be his only hope of getting himself and June out alive. “Hold on tight,” he said through a mouthful of blood, and concentrated on a spot just outside the gates of Hogwarts.

He landed flat on the ground, battered and drained, but June’s warm little hand was still gripping his arm, and they were alone. Spots danced before his eyes and the green, green grass outside the castle seemed almost luminous. His injuries throbbed.

“What happened?” asked June.

Remus spat some blood onto the ground. A couple of his teeth felt loose, but he hadn’t actually lost any. “That’s called Apparation,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done it so soon after the full moon, but we’re safe and that’s what matters.”

He tried to stand, but the ground was reaching for him and pulling him down. He wanted to lie there forever and sink into the earth...

“John! Get up!” June was tugging insistently at his hand, and with her help he managed to pull himself into a standing position and stumble as far as the castle gates. It hurt to breathe; he thought he might have a couple of cracked ribs.

“I need to rest. We can’t get inside unless somebody knows we’re here, anyway. Send up some sparks with my wand, will you?”

June obeyed. They waited, huddled in the shadow of the castle and its towers.

“Is that Hogwarts?” June asked in a whisper.

“Yes, that’s Hogwarts.”

She gazed up at the towers for a long time, and then he heard her sniffle. “I’m so, so sorry, John. Ferdinand made me. He said he could do whatever he liked with me as soon as I was his owngirl, and he’d ... he’d hurt me less’n I told you where Fenrir was going next full moon an’ watched you to see what you did. And then he asked me lots of questions about you and made me tell him ‘most everything. I never told him you done taught me to do magic, though. And when I came back I told him the truth, that you never went out of your cabin or nothin’. That made him angry. He said he didn’t have no proof you was a spy, but he was gonna get proof at the meetin’ this afternoon, and he was takin’ me with him so’s I could w-watch what they d-did to you...” The flood of words abruptly subsided, and she began sobbing helplessly.

“It’s all right, June. We’re safe.” But he wasn’t so sure they were. Fenrir would want them both dead now, and he might guess Hogwarts would be their destination – and Remus hadn’t the strength to Apparate again. “Could I have my wand back? I don’t think anyone inside the school saw our signal –”

He broke off as something shimmering far above him caught his eye. Two Patroni were outlined against the summer sky. A sphinx – that would be Bill’s – and a large, silvery wolf.

He swallowed heavily as the wolf bounded toward him, his heart full of a feeling that he could not name. He should have known, after what Harry had said at Christmas – but of all of the forms it might have taken, how had that one chosen her?

The wolf-Patronus settled by his hand, just like an ordinary dog, and licked his fingers. It was a curious sensation, like touching a cloud or a sheet of mist.

“Dora?” Remus whispered. “I need you. Now.”

“What are those?” June asked as the Patroni loped off. She had stopped crying.

“Guardian spirits. You’ll learn how to conjure one when you’re older.” For it seemed safe, at last, to promise June a magical education.

“They’re beautiful.”

“Yes, they are. They’re the most beautiful kind of magic there is.”

He shut his eyes, weary and dazzled, but it seemed only a moment before someone gripped his shoulder and forced him to open them again. Bill was escorting June inside the castle gates, and a small, firm hand took him by the arm and helped him to his feet.

 

                                                            *          *          *

Professor Dumbledore met them at the castle entrance. He was looking at Remus with something very like regret, and Remus spoke quickly to forestall any awkwardness.

“This is June. How she came to be here is a long story, but could you see that she has something to eat and a place to stay for the night?”

“Of course.” Dumbledore offered the child his hand. “Hello, June. How do you do?”

June greeted him as politely as she knew how – with the Lyceum’s secret handshake, which unfortunately involved spitting in one’s palms. Dumbledore shook hands with her gravely, as if this were nothing out of the ordinary. “Welcome to Hogwarts,” he said.

Remus tried to explain what had just happened, but there was a roaring sound in his ears and he didn’t sound very coherent, even to himself.

“Do ask Poppy to take a look at you,” said Dumbledore. “We’ll have time enough to talk later.”

 

                                                            *          *          *

Poppy Pomfrey treated his injuries, leaving him blessedly free from pain and utterly exhausted. “Go and have a wash and get some sleep,” she ordered. “There’s nobody in the hospital wing, and if one of the students does come in, I’ll think of some explanation.”

Remus was glad to obey.

By the time he woke, night had fallen and the ward was silent and empty. Poppy had left a spare set of clean robes on the chair at the foot of his bed; they were several inches too long and he suspected they were Snape’s, but they would do for the moment. He dressed, found that he felt reasonably steady on his feet, and went looking for his fellow Order members.

They were gathered in Minerva McGonagall’s office. Bill Weasley still had a smear of lipstick on his chin, but he had his wand out and looked alert. Tonks looked pale and worried but composed.

“Where’s Professor Dumbledore?” Remus asked.

The others looked uneasily at each other. “Nobody knows,” said Minerva after a moment. “He told us this afternoon that he was going out, and might not be back until the morning. He left half an hour ago. That’s why Bill and Nymphadora are here; he always summons two or three of the Order members for security duty when he goes away.”

“Oh.” Remus blinked. He had been under the vague impression that he had summoned them, but it took him a moment to remember why. “Didn’t you get my message?” he asked Tonks.

“We did,” she said. “Thanks for the tip. The other Aurors are on alert, but without information about targets, there’s only so much we can do.”

“Shouldn’t you be at work, then? Or did they order you to come here?”

She shook her head. “No, we don’t believe the castle itself is at risk – Bill and I double-checked the protection charms and they all hold. But Dumbledore told me he particularly wanted me here, and my first duty is to the Order.”

“You don’t have any idea at all where he went?”

“No-o,” said Minerva slowly. “But before he left, he told me that his will was in the upper right-hand drawer of his desk.”

No one spoke for a moment.

“He’ll be back,” she said more firmly. “It was merely a precaution. He’s always been back before.”

A house-elf, dressed rather eccentrically in a maroon jumper and a stack of misshapen woolly hats, arrived bearing a tray of sandwiches. “Thank you, Dobby,” said Minerva. “Have a bite to eat before you start the patrols. You too, Remus. You look half starved.”

“I’ll help you patrol,” Remus offered around a mouthful of bread and turkey.

“Three of us are enough,” said Minerva. “Four, if I send for Severus. You ought to rest.” But she looked tense and strained, and he thought she could use all the help she could get.

“I’m all right. I want to help. And I think I might know a bit more about the ways in and out of the castle than anybody else in this room.”

“Very well. You and Nymphadora may take the corridors on the east side of the castle.”

 

                                                            *          *          *

The castle was quiet. Night had fallen, and the students were in their common rooms. Their footsteps echoed in the empty corridors.

“Do you think you could get a photograph of June?” asked Tonks after a moment. “Muggle-style, if possible, but the wizarding kind will do if it’s all you can manage. It’s for her mum.”

“You found her mother?”

“Yes. It’s terribly sad – she believes her daughter is dead, I could see it in her eyes. And I tried to tell her the truth – but she balked at the bit about werewolves, and I don’t think she’ll believe me until she sees June for herself. That’s why I need a photograph.”

“Do you think that’s ... entirely fair to the mother? If she’s a Muggle, there are certain ... risks that she won’t be able to deal with, and to be quite blunt about it, she may not want to.”

“Remus, it’s her child. She loves her.”

“Sometimes love isn’t enough,” said Remus bleakly.

Tonks turned away as if she’d been struck, but said nothing.

Remus started talking hastily to cover the silence. “Look, I don’t doubt that she cares for June very much. But she doesn’t know what the reality of living with a young werewolf means, and if she agrees to take in the child and finds out that it’s more than she can handle – well, what then? I’ve heard so many stories in the last year – parents trying to care for their children and then abandoning them to Greyback – wizarding parents, that is, people who knew what the condition entailed and could defend themselves. It would be horribly cruel to June – to both of them, really – if that happened. Perhaps ... perhaps it would be less cruel to let her mother go on thinking she’s dead.”

“No, it wouldn’t! You haven’t seen her. Losing her baby is eating her up inside, and she’s not going to abandon the child if she gets her back. That’s ridiculous.”

“I’m afraid it isn’t so ridiculous. Loving parents have done it before. It doesn’t make them monsters – just ordinary people who couldn’t face a lifetime of danger and poverty and social ostracism. And, of course, it isn’t fair to expect them to.”

“Will you stop talking about what’s fair? Life isn’t fair – if it were, you wouldn’t have to suffer any of those things.” Tonks drew a shaky breath, and Remus realized she was on the verge of tears. “And if love isn’t enough, then what bloody well is?”

Remus was struggling to frame the words for a suitable reply when there was a clatter of footsteps on stone, and Ron and Ginny Weasley came streaking around the corner. They were followed a moment later by a breathless Neville Longbottom.

“Thank God!” Ginny panted. “You’ve got to come. It’s the Death Eaters. Inside the castle.”