Defence Against the Dark Creature

Chapter 3

It was weird using the secret passage again. Ever since their small group had met again for the first time, over a month ago, Remus had used the passage on the second floor, the one behind the golden armour. The one he and Peter had found in third year. And he still hadn´t grown accustomed to using it again.

Even more so since he was now allowed to, even required to. Dumbledore insisted -and Remus agreed- that a weekly meeting of eight wizards and witches, most of them well known to the public, at a place like Hogwarts, would not go without attracting attention. So they all came in secret, every Sunday morning at 9 o´clock.

Coming through the passage wasn´t difficult (it led right into a small cottage outside Hogsmeade), but getting to the Headmaster´s office without being seen was usually a small adventure. Filch, who had apparently found this passage a few years after they had graduated, had been kindly asked by Dumbledore not to patrol this particular corner for a while. But the children didn´t know; not many children roamed the corridors on Sunday mornings, but there were always the exceptions. Apparating was impossible, and so was travelling by Floo powder - the fires inside of the castle were connected, but from outside, only a partial transport was possible, which was how Sirius had been communicating with them. His head sitting in the fire was certainly always an amusing sight.

The protections on the castle did make things more difficult. However, Remus thought as he peered around a corner, there was next to no danger during the holidays, and term didn´t start before Friday. The students weren´t here yet, and only a few teachers were about - they, naturally, were to be avoided as well.

Friday, 1^st of September. Less than a week, and he already felt more nervous than he ever had in his life. Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher he could do, no problem. But whenever he so much as imagined twenty-one young werewolves sitting in front of him-

"Sst! Lupin!" He jumped, and turned around. Fletcher had apparently come through right behind him and was now struggling to catch up. Remus stopped, and the rotund, middle-aged wizard came to a halt next to him, clutching his side.

"Gabbling griffins, Lupin, one could think you´re in a hurry or something!" Fletcher gave a hearty laugh, interrupted by a gasp for breath. "Come, dear fellow, it´s not even quarter to nine."

Remus raised an eyebrow at him. "You know there could be teachers about, Mundungus," he muttered, resuming his quick pace. Fletcher groaned and broke into a small jog to keep up with Remus´ long strides. It was true, Remus thought

"So what are you doing here this early?" Fletcher asked, not bothering to keep his voice down. They still had a fair few stairs to climb, Remus thought, but it didn´t sound like anyone was around.

"I´m always here a bit earlier in case something happens," he answered. As obvious as it was, Remus was absolutely certain that Fletcher hadn´t understood the allusion to his own being late almost every time: Mundungus wouldn´t recognise irony if it hit him in the face.

Fletcher gave a snort and shook his head, but it was only to mutter, "The disciplined one, as always." Yes, discipline was another concept he had apparently never been able to grasp. Remus grinned to himself. "But what about you, Fletcher - did you get yourself a Time-Turner, or what sort of advanced spell did it take for you to be on time, once in your life?"

As long as they had known each other, and that was quite a long time, they had been playing this game: pretending to piss each other off. As far as Remus was concerned, he was actually quite fond of Mundungus, annoying as he was. He had been surprised how easily they had got back into their old rhythm after not having seen each other for at least a decade.

"Oh shut up, Lupin," Fletcher groaned. "Forgive me if I don´t have heightened senses like you - what did the wolf do when it bit you, implant a clock?"

Fletcher was the only one who got away with saying things like these. Perhaps it was the tone in which he said them. "Right as usual, Fletcher," said Remus, keeping a straight face.

They had arrived at the huge gargoyle that was the entrance to Dumbledore´s office. "Red woollen socks," said Fletcher lazily, and while waiting for the gargoyle to open, turned around to Remus. "Honestly, is there a crazier headmaster than Dumbledore in the world?"

Remus smiled and kept his thoughts to himself, wondering whether he would ever lose that anxiety when he was reminded of the school again. He was looking forward to it, damn it - why did it have to simultaneously scare the wits out of him?

They were just about to enter the office when Remus caught a familiar smell and stopped short, then almost broke into a run and pushed the door open.

"Sirius!"

The tall man turned around and smiled. "Hullo there, Moony."

Remus grinned, and crossing the room in a few strides, pulled Sirius into a hug, to his surprise receiving a hug in return. "It´s so good seeing you." They both pulled away, looking each other up and down. "You look dreadful, Padfoot."

"Why, thanks, Moony." Sirius glared. "And likewise."

Remus laughed. Only now did he become aware of Dumbledore, who had been standing in the far corner in front of a bookshelf, looking at them fondly. "Well, now that the greetings are over, I can perhaps make us all some tea."

"Excellent idea, Albus." Fletcher leapt forward -Remus had never seen him walk properly- and shook the headmaster´s hand. "Morning, Black," he said over his shoulder.

"Fletcher," Sirius replied, still with that sarcastic edge to his voice. While Remus and Mundungus were always teasing each other like friends, Sirius had never liked the `careless, ego-centric madman´, and Sirius´ own record certainly hadn´t done much to improve Fletcher´s opinion of him. However, they worked together efficiently. Quite unlike other members of the group.

"Why are you here?" Remus asked, as Fletcher went upstairs with Dumbledore to make tea. Sirius sat down on one of the chairs, and Remus couldn´t help noticing the sagging shoulders and the dark rings under his eyes. This looked even more frightening when Sirius was smiling.

"I got your owl. Had to see you."

Something started burning behind Remus´ eyes, and he sat down quickly. Lupin, you are getting sentimental. "You shouldn´t have done that, Sirius. Think how dangerous -"

But Sirius waved his words away impatiently. "Tell me about the school," he said. "Have you met them yet?"

It was clear whom he meant by `them´. Remus sighed, giving in to Sirius´ impatience, and realising he was quite eager to talk about it himself. "Yes, one. A girl."

Sirius tilted his head, studying him carefully. "What was she like?"

Remus frowned, remembering Nora´s expression and words. "Odd."

Sirius nodded at once, and Remus had to grin. "Of course you expected nothing else, Padfoot?"

Sirius smiled, too. Remus wondered whether he would ever get used to seeing that again, after so many years of staring at the very same picture the Daily Prophet had made of him just after the arrest. Remus might also have found it easier to adapt had the smile been the same one Sirius had been known to wear constantly before everything had gone wrong. But, like everything else, it had changed.

"How could I, after knowing you," Sirius was saying, bringing Remus back into the present. "So how are you feeling?"

Remus shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know. I'm both dreading and looking forward to it." All of a sudden, he had to grin, and he saw from Sirius' face that they were both thinking the same thing. Eleven-year-old Remus had been terribly afraid of going to Hogwarts - and yet it had turned out to be the best time in his life.

"Congratulations, Remus," Albus had climbed down the stairs and now joined them in their corner, while Fletcher was still busy upsetting tea cups. "Sirius told me the wonderful news."

Remus smiled. Whenever the headmaster spoke, it felt like warm liquid running through his veins - and he had no idea how he did that. "Thank you. I had meant to send you a note earlier, but-"

Dumbledore cut him short with a wave of his hand. "I'm positive there were more important things at hand. Have you had a look at the school yet?"

But before Remus had a chance to answer, he was cut short by a soft voice speaking behind his back.

"Now, now, don't tell me you´ve found yourself a job, Lupin."

Remus, who was sitting with his back to the door, saw Sirius' eyes fill with that all too familiar loathing. And there was no mistaking the voice anyway.

"Hello Severus," he said pleasantly, turning around. Snape was standing in the doorway, his eyes darting back and forth between Sirius and Remus.

"Sentimental reunion, I presume?"

"Quite so, Severus," said Dumbledore quietly, standing up. Snape looked as if he had liked to say something in return, but kept quiet and contented himself with glaring at Remus and Sirius. Remus had no idea how they would ever work together at all if Dumbledore weren't there. He was the connection between them. Well, he, and Voldemort.

The sound of breaking china, followed by a muttered swear word, rang through the uncomfortable silence. Apparently, Fletcher wasn´t too good at balancing trays with a full teapot and seven teacups on them. Dumbledore raised an amused eyebrow and hurried upwards.

"Well, Lupin?" Snape was casually leaning against a shelf near their chairs, and spoke in a low voice so that Dumbledore wouldn´t hear. "Tell me about your new job. Have you kept your little secret to yourself as always, or do your new employers have a certain suicidal tendency?"

Sirius stood up, and even though Remus was still looking at Snape, he could feel his friend trembling with rage. "He works for people who see him for what he is. A human being."

Snape laughed quietly. It was not a pleasant sound. "A misapprehension, if you ask me."

"No one's asking you." Sirius took a step forward. Remus laid a calming hand on his arm, fearing a rash action. Padfoot had always been fiercely protective of his friends, and often reacted impulsively where they were concerned.

"Never mind, Sirius," Remus said, not troubling to keep his voice low. "Severus here is just jealous because I get to teach Defence again, and he does not. How many years has it been, Severus?" Remus looked at the other man innocently.

Snape glared at him, at a loss for words, while Sirius chuckled quietly, his temper subsiding.

***

The following days passed in a blur. After a long discussion about responsibilities and dangers, Remus had been able to convince Sirius to come to his cottage before setting off again. The 'just for a few hours' Sirius had given reluctantly had, in the end, become three days. They had had so much to talk about that Remus had to force himself, on Wednesday morning, to pack his things and get ready for school, where he wanted to be at least two days early.

Sirius was sitting on the sofa, half awake, holding a mug of coffee and watching his friend silently.

"Scared?"

Remus looked up from his suitcase. The wicked smile he would have expected to see along with that word wasn't there. Sirius was looking at him earnestly, concern written on his face.

"Wouldn't you be?"

"Can't say I've been in a similar situation, but I suppose so." Sirius smiled. "You'll do great, Moony, just like you always do."

Remus sat down on his bed with a thump, sighing exasperatedly. "What if they -" But he broke off again. There were a million things he wanted to ask, a million things that could go wrong.

"- bite?" Sirius offered, and Remus had to laugh. His friend was obviously trying hard to cheer him up. "Mr. Lupin," he continued in a bored, deep voice, "the reason you're so apprehensive about this is clear. It means commitment."

Remus snorted. "And what would you mean by commitment, Dr. Black?"

"Well, until now you've always lived on the edge, haven't you?" Sirius, morphed into a psychiatrist, went on. "Your awareness of the fact that your jobs wouldn't last gave you an unbreakable sense of freedom. Now there's something that could last longer, and you feel restricted in your freedom."

"Oh, that's a whole lot of rubbish, Dr. Black," Remus retorted, grinning, and continued packing his belongings. Unfortunately, this didn't take as long as he would have wished, and half an hour later he found himself watching a large black dog disappear in the forest behind his house. He sighed loudly, closed his backdoor and Disapparated.

The school hadn´t disappeared, he noticed with relief. Its outlines were slightly blurry today through light drizzle, but it was still a very mild day. Again, Remus started marching towards it, once more trying to suppress the nervous feeling in his stomach. The day after tomorrow...

The Hall was deserted. It was a few minutes past nine, so most of the students were probably still sleeping or having breakfast. After a swift glance around the Hall, Remus started climbing the stairs in silence. At their ´tour of the school´ two weeks ago, Charlotte had shown him his quarters. A very spacious, comfortable bedroom including a four-poster and a desk, a large bathroom and even a small balcony - the insides had obviously been magically expanded. He was looking forward to meeting the Transfiguration teacher.

Clearly, one should never make wishes without being prepared for the outcome.

Remus entered the teacher´s common room to find it occupied by someone who was buried in piles and piles of books, currently hidden behind an exceptionally large copy of A guide to modern Arithmancy by Hypotenus Hunsruck.

Remus was just wondering whether he should make himself heard when a low, irritable man´s voice spoke from behind the book.

"Come in or stay outside, but close the door."

Remus raised his eyebrows and closed the door quietly behind him, but still stood where he was, unsure of what to say. He really preferred dealing with people he could see. Excuse me, I´m the new werewolf. Who are you?

"Lupin, isn´t it?" said the man, as if he had read his thoughts. He had a very light accent which Remus suspected was Spanish or something similar. Before he had any time to reply, though, the book was thrust aside, and the man belonging to the voice stared at Remus out of narrowed eyes.

There was nothing else to do but stare back. He was a very short man with a small, round face, very prominent features and short black hair. His skin was a bit darker than the average European and slightly wrinkled; he appeared to be in his fourties, perhaps early fifties.

"Remus Lupin, Defence Against the Dark Arts," the other man said, after having looked him up and down over the rim of his reading glasses. It was not a question. Remus nodded, simultaneously wondering how someone could be so impolite. The man didn´t show any intention of standing up, but was still giving Remus a piercing stare.

"Are we colleagues, then?" Remus asked. It would have been impossible for him to just leave the room at this point. The other man didn't seem to mind the awkward situation.

He nodded, his expression still unreadable. "Pablo Gómez, Transfiguration," he said and pointed at his book. "And soon Arithmancy."

Remus was still standing at the door, shifting uncomfortably. The situation neither allowed for him to sit down nor to leave. "You´ll be teaching two subjects?"

Gómez tilted his head, pretending to study him carefully. A very thin, though humourless smile stretched across his lips, and he said, "Yes, I suppose you will have a hard time adapting to a place with, er.. more restricted means." His tone was clearly mocking.

Remus could have hit himself. Of course. That also explained, at least in part, why Pablo Gómez was so distanced, almost hostile. The spoiled little brat from the city visits the countryside.

All the while, Remus´ expression never changed, and neither did his friendly tone. He was far too used to hostility. "I hope there´s still a subject left for me to take over?"

Gómez raised his eyebrows. "Oh, believe me, there´s lots of subjects left." But he sounded a tiny bit friendlier now.

He took up his book again, demonstrating that the conversation was over. Remus moved across the room. "Well, I´ll see you later then?"

A grunt came from behind the book. "Lunch at twelve, dinner at six, staff meeting tomorrow morning at eight."

"Thank you." Remus was glad when the door to his quarters had closed behind him, and he leant back against it with a sigh. What a delightful new acquaintance! This was certainly a very pleasant man to chat with.

He stood there pondering his encounter for a while, then willed himself into moving and unpacking his belongings. He looked down at the small, battered suitcase

He started unpacking the books it carried, and while putting them on the shelf next to his bed and counting them automatically, he smiled wryly. Padfoot, upon coming to Remus´ cottage for the first time in years, had been shocked to find that Remus possessed "more books than socks. I think we did something wrong there, Moony, buying you books every Christmas." Then he had broken off, lost in thought, as he did so often now, and Remus had been glad he didn´t push the subject further.

True, all the clothes he owned did fit into one drawer. But then, he had never needed more, and he still managed the rather complicated Cleaning Charm Madam Pomfrey had taught him at school.

And he certainly preferred it this way, he thought as he stood back and cast a satisfied look over the three rows of books. His eyes fell on a dark brown, heavily bound folder on the far right, and he sighed, knowing exactly what it was. He thought it might have been '85 when he made it, maybe later. He had finally resolved to putting all of his letters in order and into a folder.

They were all there - letters from James, Sirius and Peter they had sent during the summer holidays, when there wasn´t any time to visit him - they knew he could do with a lot of distraction during that time. And those from Madam Pomfrey, and a few other people, among them a Ravenclaw called Mary Callaghan. And then, of course, there were those from Lily, later on. The two of them had kept up a lively correspondence.

For years and years, he hadn´t been able to even touch any of them. When he finally had, overwhelmed by melancholy, he had cried over every single one. Especially those from Sirius. He didn´t know what had driven him to keep them, but he had - probably for the same reason that he could not throw away Peter´s letters now.

He sighed, took out the heavy folder and sat down on the bed with it. It promptly fell open on his lap, on the 3^rd of August 1976. He recognised the neat little writing at once.

And off he was, in a long description of the problems he had had with that essay. Peter´s letters had talked of school most of the time; it seemed that his holidays had never been that eventful. Not that Remus could talk, but Peter´s surely hadn´t compared to James´ or Sirius´... Whenever possible, the four of them had visited each other, but especially James' parents had made a point of keeping their son to themselves for a while, since he only came home during the summer.

Remus was quite surprised to hear the clock strike twelve when he could have sworn that only half an hour had passed. He finished the letter he was reading, then tore his eyes away from the book and stood up. He had been so absorbed in his letters that his clothes were still in his suitcase, and he started unpacking them and putting them into a neat pile on a chair.

Washing his hands in the bathroom, he gazed into the mirror absently. He was looking quite healthy for his standards, possibly due to three very enjoyable days. He splashed his face with water and smoothed his hair. Suddenly, he took his hands down, shook his head and smiled at himself. "I dare you to comment on that," he told the mirror, which gave an offended huff.

The common room was empty, thank Merlin. He jogged down the steps, cursing himself for being late on the very first occasion. Once he had actually been famous for never being late.

He arrived at the bottom of the stairs in the Entrance Hall and passed the fireplace, walking swiftly towards the door to the dining room, which was ringing with loud talk and the clatter of forks and knives, when -

"YOU-ARE-LAST-IT´S-QUARTER-PAST!"

He whirled around, staring at the fireplace. The dining room behind the door had fallen very silent. Remus stared at the two busts of the same head, a round-faced, curly-haired woman. He could have sworn it was the left one who had screamed the words, but they were both smiling at him innocently now. He shrugged and half turned around again when the one on the right suddenly opened her mouth to yell:

"WHAT-A-SHAME-FOR-LATE-YOU-CAME!"

She looked at her twin, they both looked at Remus, who was staring at them, they looked at each other again, and suddenly burst out laughing. It was a very high, very loud laugh. Remus shook his head and walked away, opening the doors to the dining room.

They were sitting around the huge, round table in the middle, and they were all looking at him out of big eyes.

Three adults, and ten kids. Before he even had a chance to study them properly, Charlotte, sitting opposite the door, waved for him to come over. He sat down on the empty chair between Gómez and another woman and looked around. They were still staring at him.

"Well, folks, this is the encounter you´ve all been waiting for," said Charlotte, in her usual cheerful voice. "May I present - Professor Remus Lupin."

The children were now exchanging glances, whispering to each other. Remus put on his best smile. "Hello, everyone. I´m glad to be here." Some of the looks that met this statement were actually incredulous. Something inside Remus shuddered. He was trying hard not to think. Not about their number, not about their faces, not about their expressions. No, best thing to look down at his plate, where a delicious looking portion of Spanish Omelette had just appeared.

"So you´ve met Hedda and Jedda," Charlotte commented, as they were eating quietly. He could have sworn he had never met such quiet kids, and he was desperately hoping this wasn´t normal.

"If you mean those nice ladies outside in the Hall, yes indeed," Remus replied, and at once his comment was followed by whispers among the children. "Do they always speak in rhyme?" he inquired.

"Oh, yes," Charlotte said. "It´s a very old charm, and they do seem to enjoy it now."

She grinned, and set her fork down with a clatter. "Okay! Introductions. This is Pablo Gómez, our Transfiguration teacher." She pointed to the man on his left.

Remus nodded at him. "We´ve already met." Gómez nodded curtly, and continued on his dish. Charlotte didn´t see the look he gave Remus or ignored it, and pointed to the woman on Remus´ right. "And this is Angela O´Connor, our school matron."

Remus smiled politely at the woman, thinking that he wouldn't have expected her to fill any other role. She was about Madam Pomfrey´s age, but very thin and bony and quite tall. He wondered immediately whether she was a werewolf, and in a rapid flow of associations, he wondered almost simultaneously whether Charlotte was a werewolf, whether Pablo was one, where Pablo was from, where those three darker-coloured kids next to him and the other ones were from, and why the hell they were still staring at him as if he were a rarity in an exhibition.

Charlotte, meanwhile, was obviously trying to get the introductions over and done with. "You already know Nora." She made a gesture towards the pale girl, who gave a slight nod, her black eyes boring into Remus. Remus nodded back and smiled, and while Charlotte introduced the others, tried to memorise all the names. It was an almost hopeless task.

Jorge Guerrera, María Aciano and Gabriel Hernández were sitting between Pablo and Nora. Jorge, a boy in his early teens with black, longish curls and a determined look on his face, was from Colombia, and so was Gabriel, the oldest and tallest of the three, who looked as if he expected nothing and everything of life. They both looked like older brothers to María, in their midst, whom they were sitting very close to: a tiny person with an anxious face and a fringe that kept falling into her eyes. She was from Chile.

Remus barely had any time to memorise these details before he was led on. It was Nikolai and Andrej Kolnikov to Nora´s left, brothers from Russia, both burly, red-faced boys of about 15 years, both wearing a particularly closed expression.

Olivier Mbomo and Anne-Laure Dauphin to Charlotte´s right; Olivier from Morocco, a boy in his late teens, with skin so dark that the white in his eyes stood out clearly; Anne-Laure from France, a pretty girl who seemed to like holding her nose high in the air. Rachel Fitzgerald, who was sitting next to her, looked very much like her: the only difference was the blonde hair, Remus thought. He guessed that they must be around 14 years of age, seeing as they looked like 12.

Finally, there was Jun Li from China. She was probably one of the oldest kids, along with Nora; although she was so small that she could have passed as 13 or 14 as well. But when, upon hearing her name, she raised her head, and her almond eyes met Remus´, he knew that she was far older than most of them, and had seen much more. Funny that even among these kids there are differences like that.

The rest of lunch continued in silence, with Charlotte occasionally asking Remus a question, which was always followed by an excited intake of breath around the table, and then whispering after his answer. He just couldn´t decide whether their attitude towards him was hostile or just-

But the moment he asked himself this question, he had to smile. He knew the answer. James had told him, many years into their time at Hogwarts, what his first impression of Remus had been. And he had used exactly the same word: hostile. Remus hadn´t seemed apprehensive, or shy; he had looked stubborn and arrogant, he had seemed as if he didn´t want any contact with any of them. James and Sirius had even planned to play a prank on him at first. Fortunately, they had never found the chance to do so.

"... tomorrow at 8 o´clock," Charlotte was saying, and Remus nodded automatically. "I know-", and he broke off, not being able to decide whether he should call the man `Pablo´ or `Mr Gómez´, so he continued instead: "How many teachers do we have?"

Yes, he was seeing them tomorrow, but he liked to have an overview of things instead of being thrown into situations, as he had been about half an hour ago. On his first visit to the school, he had toyed with the idea of asking Charlotte for personal files or information on every single student in order to be prepared (he had done the same at Hogwarts, after all), but then he hadn´t wanted to seem fussy.

"All in all, we´re five," said Charlotte, and her voice had lost some of its cheerfulness. "Pablo teaches Transfiguration, Constance Jennings Muggle Studies, Teri Longbottom Charms and Flying, I teach Potions and History of Magic, and then there´s you, of course." She smiled at him, albeit a little weakly. Remus smiled back, trying hard to hide his reaction.

Remus sighed. At once, everyone looked up, and he realised it had been a very loud sigh. Charlotte was looking down at her plate, and he cursed himself inwardly. "I´m looking forward to meeting the others," he said, and Charlotte looked up, then smiled gratefully. The children resumed their whispering.

***