Defence Against the Dark Creature

"And they...," Olivier Mbomo cleared his throat, a very deep, rumbling noise. "And they covered up for you?"

Remus just nodded. There was, again, a ringing silence, and he tried not to worry too much about the questions that had still to come.

"But, Professor, how-" Samuel Harris, sitting in the front row, broke off as abruptly as he had begun, and started to stammer. "H-how did you manage to k-keep up with your education, being ... 'ill' for a few days every month?"

Sofie broke in, very eagerly. "Or did the Matron know of special healing techniques?"

Remus sighed resignedly. "No. There are no advanced techniques for that." Not that anyone ever bothered to find out either. "I was ill for a few days every month." The children looked at him expectantly.

"I kept up with my homework as far as I could," he continued. "My friends helped me as much as they could, and... like I said, the staff knew. They made allowances for me. Not always very willingly, mind you..."

Silence. He felt as if he shouldn't have said that. The children's jaws were set, and some of them stared at their tables accusingly. Others merely looked up at him as if he had just explained that Phoenixes were reborn from the ashes.

"How did Dumbledore manage to convince them?" Nora Hartfield burst out, and the four students in the first row turned around. It was obvious that Nora didn't talk much during class.

"They must have been...," her voice fell to almost a whisper, "...terrified."

All eyes were upon him again, and Remus struggled with himself. She was right, of course - but could he say such a thing in front of these damaged young people? But they know already, Lupin. Stop beating around the bush.

"Some of them were, yes. But Professor Dumbledore is considered one of the greatest wizards of our times, and most people trust him." His voice shook again. He owed Dumbledore much, much more than anyone could ever fathom. It was once more with an effort that he brought himself back to the present and looked around at the children. But most of them were lost in thoughts as well - thoughts, most likely, of terrified people.

How very strange this was. It should have given him some sort of comfort to talk to others who had experienced the same, or so he had thought. But all it was giving him was pain. He could not bear the thought that all of these children knew exactly what he was talking about.

"Professor?" Sofie Bradley was raising her hand, looking very fearful, as if she were about to ask a question she didn't want to ask. Remus gave her a small, encouraging nod, and she cleared her throat a bit too loudly.

"I was just wondering... er... have you ever taken the - Wolfsbane Potion?"

She had hesitated before the last words. There was an almost simultaneous intake of breath from all corners of the room, and Remus shuddered. Oh, no.

"Yes." He looked around at every face, bursting with curiosity, and he gave a small resigned sigh. "None of you ever has." It was not a question.

They shook their heads. Remus frowned. He hadn't allowed himself to think about the full moons yet, and so he hadn't asked himself the question whether the Potion would be available at the school.

"We don't have it here?" he asked.

There was a loud snort, coming from the very back of the class. "Of course we don't." Gabriel Hernández' voice was quiet, but dripping with sarcasm, painfully intensified by his strong accent. "It's expensive, no? We cannot afford it, and no-one in his right mind would help us without the cash." He spat out the last word.

Rachel Fitzgerald turned around to him, hissing, "Gabriel!" He raised her eyebrows at her. "What, afraid to shock the new teacher?" His voice was almost a growl now. "You and your girlfriends in your perfect world..."

"All right, that's enough," said Nora Hartfield, sitting between them. Her voice was calm and authoritative. They fell silent.

"What's it like, then?" asked Jun Li, in the unnervingly direct manner that Remus had the feeling was normal for her. "Taking the Potion, I mean." It seemed as if she had wanted to add something, but couldn't find the proper words.

"It allows you to keep your mind," Remus said. "The - person in question is no danger to anyone."

Jun stared at him. "The wolf is completely gone?" Rachel Fitzgerald and Karolka Wyszinski exchanged a look and both turned around to Jun, who was oblivious to their stare.

Remus winced. "Well... no. There is always something lingering in the back of your mind. A bit stronger than there is between the full moons." Jun nodded. Rachel and Karolka shuddered.

"And it still hurts," said Olivier Mbomo, in his deep, quiet voice.

Remus had a sudden impulse to stand up and grip Olivier's arm. He resisted it.

"Yes."

"Mundo de mierda," said Jorge Guerrera, and though Remus didn't know a word of Spanish, he thought he got the meaning fairly well.

~~~

Lunch was dominated by excited chattering among the children, more sounds than they had produced in his presence so far, and meaningful glances at him from the other teachers. He had the feeling he had passed some sort of test. Not that it felt very comfortable, when the students from the second group seemed to relate every single word of what he had said to the others, while the teachers sitting nearby listened with just as much interest.

He was really not used to this absolute lack of privacy. It had to be like this for Harry, he thought, and he wondered how Harry was. Sirius had told him everything about the events of the summer, of course...

"Are you joining Pablo for the Transfiguration lesson this afternoon?" Charlotte interrupted his train of thought, and Remus nodded.

"Yes, we've talked about that. It's very kind of him to let me have a look at his class." Although he might not have their full attention today. The thought made him squirm. He really wasn't used to this.

The lesson was much like he had imagined: Although sitting in the back of the class, he still somehow seemed to be the centre of attention. The children's heads kept turning, they whispered to each other, and Gómez had a hard time making them concentrate. Each child had a water goblet, which they were to transfigure into -

"A teapot, Mr. Dimitroff." Gómez was standing in front of Leonid Dimitroff's desk in the second row. "And not a flowerpot. The nuances, please."

One of the Kolnikov brothers, sitting behind Leonid, sniggered and muttered something in Russian, to which Leonid turned around to glare at them. So did Gómez.

"Mr. Kolnikov, you know the rules," he said sternly. "No speaking Russian in the school." The boy gave a very slight nod, but Remus caught him muttering to his brother when Gómez had walked away.

'The nuances, please' was repeated over ten times before the class was over, and Remus couldn't blame the children for sighing in relief when the bell rang. Gómez was good, yes - he had a very good eye for details, and he definitely knew his theory. However, staring at a goblet for two hours would have made Remus despair, and he had the feeling Gómez never chose the most exciting items.

The atmosphere in the Common Room later was much more relaxed. The students from both groups sat together, doing their homework and studying at different tables. Gómez and Charlotte were scheduled for supervision this afternoon, but Charlotte had asked Remus to join them in order to give him an impression of what these two hours were like.

Remus had the impress children wouldn't even have needed the supervision; most of them seemed very calm and concentrated. Some were poring over enormous books, some were experimenting, and every now and then a student would stand up to look for a book in the library, which was accessible from the Common Room. There was mild chattering, but it never grew loud; the teachers' function seemed to be, above all, to help out with problems and questions.

Before long, Charlotte came over to Remus' corner and sat down.

"I've never seen children concentrate so well," he said, more thinking aloud than addressing her.

"Neither have I," Charlotte said. "These children are very different from other students. They have a completely different attitude towards schoolwork. They know they have to learn in order to..." There was a sad tone to her voice, and she broke off. "It wasn't like this in the beginning, mind you."

Remus looked at her with interest. Her gaze was unfocused, and a half-smile was on her face. "We had a hard time learning to trust each other." However, she seemed to decide to postpone her reminiscing, and fixed her eyes on him again.

"Normally, I would advise you not to rush anything with them now. Constance was the last to come, about eight months ago, and the children have only just begun to trust her. But you're different." Her smile vanished completely, and her look at him was very earnest now. "From what I was able to gather at lunch, and a few minutes ago, they're approaching you very differently. I mean, the children are of course always blunt." A small grin crossed her features. "But they're also very closed and defensive, and it's rare for them to let a stranger come so close to them on the first day."

Remus frowned. And he thought he had been the one to let them close - what had they given away by asking him all these questions? Well, he supposed appearing so obviously interested in another person and being so obviously desperate to share their thoughts with a grown-up did qualify as giving up their defence.

Charlotte seemed to have followed his line of thought. "With Teri, Pablo, Constance, Angela and me, most of them would just stay very cool and distant for a long while. That's safety, you know."

Remus winced. He knew that all right.

He looked around at the different tables. The children were sitting in groups he partly recognised already; yet, although they probably stuck to their groups, there was a strange feeling of togetherness in the room, as if there were trust and confidence in the whole group, as if, when it mattered, everyone would stick together.

He smiled a little at his amateurish take on empathy, but couldn't quite clear the feeling out of his mind.

"The children told me this morning that we don't have the Wolfsbane Potion." It came out in a rush, and with a tone that was more emotional than he would have wanted. He realised he had wanted to ask this question ever since this morning.

Charlotte looked at him, still unsmiling, and suddenly he felt sheepish for having assumed they had it. But there was no reproach in her voice. "You've taken it before, then?" she asked with great interest. He nodded.

"I told the children about it this morning. I - well, I suppose I hadn't given it much thought until now..."

But she waved his comment aside impatiently. "Do you know how to make it?"

Her eyes were full of hope, and Remus sighed. "No. The Potions Master at Hogwarts made it for me."

She nodded slowly. "Snape, isn't it? Yes, he's supposed to be very good. One of the best, in fact."

Remus had to smile. He had forgotten for a minute that Charlotte taught Potions as well. "I wasn't aware he had such a good reputation," he said, and suddenly saw Sirius grimace. "And have you tried to make it?"

Charlotte sighed as well. "Countless times. I'm still studying it, but I'm not sure I'll ever get there. Besides, the ingredients..." She trailed off. "I haven't been able to find anyone who would make it for us yet, and I'm not sure how I would pay them." Her cheeks flushed in what seemed to be embarrassment. "What about Professor Snape? Do you think he'd consent to -"

Remus gave a short, dry laugh. A few students looked up and exchanged glances. He lowered his voice again. "I'm sorry to say that Professor Snape would never consider helping - er, 'soulless, ravenous creatures' as I believe he once classified me."

A hot fury lit up in Charlotte's eyes for a second before vanishing, but she kept her fingers tightened around the arm of her chair for a long time. "I'm not sure I think so highly of him anymore."

Remus smiled weakly.

"Professor Merlot," Felix Rosenstrauch called from the far end of the room, and all heads shot up. Felix grinned apologetically. "I'm sorry to interrupt everyone, but where do we go tomorrow?"

Charlotte was obviously glad about the distraction. "We're going to Buckfastleigh and then to Plymouth, both of which are about an hour away," she said, and a few of the students looked at her in genuine excitement.

"Plymouth!" Samuel Harris exclaimed, and feeling the others look at him, he began stammering again. "Th-that's the biggest town in Devon," he explained to Sofie Bradley, who was sitting next to him as usual. "I-it's got to have a quarter of a million inhabitants."

Excited chattering followed his explanation, and Charlotte winked at Remus. "It's a small tradition now, we spend the first Saturday of term on a school trip." She held up her hand before he could voice his doubts. "We're a group of students from a Muggle school. Connie makes everything look perfect, and we go to a different town every time." Her smile turned sad again. "It's a great occasion for the children to smell some fresh air and see other people, even if it is just for a day."

Remus nodded. It was a very good idea. "But Plymouth has a small wizarding community too, doesn't it?"

"Yes, and I've been battling with myself for weeks now whether we should seek it out or not." She frowned. "I've settled on yes. If anything goes wrong, we won't be back, and they have to see how other wizards live. Some of these children only know Muggle neighbourhoods. Others have only seen the wizarding world from its... well, its darker side."

Remus looked around at the students, who were still talking excitedly, and he wondered what exactly they had seen.

~~~

He had never been to Plymouth before. He had considered going there a few times, having realised long ago that bigger towns were far more... practical. More people meant more anonymity. But even though cities gave him a better chance of staying in one place for more than a month, he didn't like them. He had grown up in a small town, and Hogwarts had been much like a village itself; he liked smaller communities. He had often shaken his head at his own stupidity, but while his head told him that cities were the better choice, his heart had never agreed.

As he had expected, he liked Buckfastleigh from the moment they entered the town; it was just about the right size, and very green. Passers-by glanced at the bus driving through their streets, but didn't pay them any special attention.

Constance had arranged everything perfectly; she even drove the minibus she had hired somewhere. It had taken them more than an hour to get to Buckfastleigh, but no-one had complained. The children had spent the time playing games and talking at the top of their voices; Remus had sat in the front with Charlotte and Gómez. It had only been after Constance's announcement that they were twenty minutes away from the town that the volume had decreased, ever so slightly, and Remus thought he had seen excitement mingled with anxiety on some of their faces. He couldn't blame them.

"All right," Charlotte, in jeans, T-shirt and a light jacket, stood up in the front of the bus. "Here we are at Buckfast Abbey. We'll drop off the first group with Professors Gómez and Lupin now; the rest will drive on with Professor Jennings and me to the Butterflies and Otter Sancary. We'll pick the others up again in a few hours, have some lunch, and then we'll go on to Plymouth."

She had put special emphasis on the city's name, and it was clear to Remus that she was talking about visiting the wizarding community; judging by their faces, the children had understood her as well.

"Everything clear?" Charlotte called, and the students nodded. She threw Remus a quick questioning glance and he nodded as well, then got out of the bus after the students.

He and Gómez had the smaller group, which was not surprising considering the distinct lack of excitement of visiting an abbey for most children; indeed, he was surprised there were still eight of them. Then again, it might not be a question of where we're going, but who is going, he thought as he watched Rachel Fitzgerald and Karolka Wyszinski stand together, or Olivier Mbomo stay suspiciously close to Jun Li and -much more important- Nora Hartfield.

"All right, you know the rules," said Gómez, and he seemed to address especially Olivier Mbomo, who (if it was at all possible) blushed a deep red. "No magic, no talk about magic or the school, and try to behave exactly like the Muggles do." The students nodded, and they started walking up the hill towards the abbey, an impressive Victorian building.

"It's beautiful." The words had come out as no more than a breath, and Remus looked around to see Karolka Wyszinski staring up at the abbey with a rapt expression. She had stopped short when the abbey had come into full view, and all the others were now assembled around her, looking at the abbey with varying degrees of interest and admiration.

"," Olivier Mbomo cleared his throat, "is this Catholic, now, or Protestant?" He sounded quite embarrassed when he added, "Or, er, Anglican?"

Karolka, however, didn't seem to mind the question, or the fact that everyone was looking at her expectantly. "It's Catholic, I think. The building looks-" She stopped, suddenly, and looked at Robert Parsons. The tall, dark-haired boy had been standing slightly outside of the group, studying the abbey on his own, but it was clear to Remus that he had caught every word of the conversation and had just been waiting for his cue.

Which Karolka seemed eager to give him. "Actually, I think Robert can tell you more about the architecture," she said, looking at him encouragingly, and Remus couldn't help thinking she was extremely attentive for her age. A very sociable character.

Robert turned his head in a bad imitation of surprise at being addressed, and said the first words that Remus had ever heard from him apart from several incantations in class.

"It looks very old," he said, addressing Karolka directly. He spoke quietly and quickly, as if he were afraid of being interrupted again. "But it can't be. It must have been rebuilt, otherwise it wouldn't be so well-preserved, but for the style of the architecture that they imitated, I'd say it's Cistercian, twelfth or thirteenth century."

"That early!" exclaimed Rachel Fitzgerald from Boston. "Chris Columbus' grandpa wasn't even born by then!"

Her remark caused great hilarity among the students, and even Gómez gave a small smile. "Let's go in and ask them for details," he suggested, and the children folloed him up to the entrance.

The abbey was just as impressive inside, and the monks were helpful: They patiently explained everything the children wanted to know. Robert's assumption was confirmed, and their guide, a short man wearing a simple black robe and a roguish smile, expressed his utter astonishment at the boy's knowledge, which seemed to please Robert greatly. Olivier's once again timid question what exactly "Cistercian" meant was answered promptly and kindly; the monk explained that it had been an order related to the Benedictine one, which they belonged to, and Karolka added in a low voice that the Benedictines belonged to the Roman Catholics. They were led through the buildings and the church and learned a lot of things in a short time.

Remus learned, above all, that these children were far more interested in religion than most of their peers. He also learned that he still found it hard to find a proper approach for himself.

"Let nothing, therefore, be put before the Work of God," he heard the man's voice; he was explaining the rules of St. Benedict to the children. Remus stood further away from them, examining a statue of Mary, and frowned.

"You do not look convinced." He turned round. Gómez was standing there, with his arms folded behind his back and his favourite unreadable expression; but the tone of his voice had been almost mocking.

Remus was a patient man, but some people succeeded in making him very angry.

"What about you?" he asked, in the same distanced, slightly ironic tone. Gómez, however, only looked at him thoughtfully.

"I have not yet understoowhat kind of god would create a world like this, if not a cynical, sadistic one." He walked forwards, stopping next to Remus, and tilted his head at the statue. "I envy those who can find refuge with him, but..." He stopped himself and cast a quick glance at Remus, as though he were only now becoming aware whom he was talking to.

But Remus, for his part, only looked at him thoughtfully. He had found the first similarity between the other man and himself, what a miracle! "I think I have a very clear idea of what you mean."

Gómez arched an eyebrow at him. "Really?" There was the mocking tone again. Yet for the remainder of the day, Remus had the feeling he was being looked upon with more respect.

When the others arrived a few hours later, they had lunch in the abbey's restaurant. Some of the monks joined them and were soon engaged in conversation by interested children, Karolka Wyszinski in front, whose thirst for knowledge did not seem to be stilled yet. Remus sat with students that had been in the other group, and while half-heartedly listening to their excited chatter about butterflies and otters, he watched Gómez sit down with his three proteges and converse with them in low tones and, probably, Spanish. While Jorge and Gabriel had not shown themselves at all interested in the building's outside or inside, they were bombarding Gómez with questions now. All the while, María Aciano sat next to them, listening, and Remus saw her eyes dart to those sitting around the monks every so often. She did not seem uninterested at all. Remus suddenly wondered how much of her choices of activities depended on what her two quasi-brothers did.

"Professor?" His head jerked back to his table, whose other occupants were all looking at him questioningly.