Defence Against the Dark Creature

Chapter Ten

"Christmas will be very quiet this year," said Charlotte, looking at her colleagues seated around the staff room fire one December night.

"Robert, Philip, Christopher, Aimée, Tinh, Felix, Leonid, Karolka, Joseph, Sofie, Samuel," Connie rattled off, and Remus knew that these children had parents or other relativesto go home to.

"Yes, and Rachel is going with Karolka this year," said Charlotte.

"Why isn't Anne-Laure going with them too?" Angela inquired. "I thought those three were inseparable."

"They are," smiled Charlotte. "But Anne-Laure got a letter from her mother not too long ago - that was the first time she wrote to her, you know - and Madame Dauphin said she might be able to visit us over the holidays."

So that had been in the letter, too, Remus thought, surprised. It had been obvious how much Mme Dauphin loved her daughter, but she hadn't seemed very daring to Remus. He wasn't sorry to have misjudged her.

"As for the Kolnikov brothers," Charlotte continued, as she pulled a piece of parchment out of her pocket, "I received this letter this morning. It's from their aunt asking for my permission to take them to Moscow for Christmas."

Remus frowned. "Has this aunt ever contacted them or you before?"

Charlotte shook her head, and he could see the uneasiness he felt reflected on her face. "No. She claims she didn't know they survived in the attack."

The attack. "When they were bitten?"

Charlotte nodded, but Gómez was the one who answered. "They lived with their parents in the country, some fifty miles east of Moscow. According to the Muggle police, one night a thief entered their home, killed the parents and injured the two boys. However, we are quite sure..."

"That it was a werewolf." Remus sighed. "How did you find them? And how did they survive the attack in the first place?" Charlotte had told him a few of the children's stories, but - as it occurred to him now - she had nver got round to telling him about everyone.

"They lived in the woods close to a Muggle village. We followed police reports describing unusual monthly happenings, which the Russian Ministry of Magic identified as - I quote - 'lycanthropic activity'. It wasn't hard to convince them to let us take the boys out of the country." Gómez was telling the story in his usual half-detached, half-scornful manner, but the reproachful tone he had adopted in the beginning when talking to Remus was gone. "And we think they survived because their parents protected them. Maybe they injured the werewolf."

Remus swallowed, a heavy weight suddenly on his chest. Parents who had died to keep their children alive...

"So what do the boys say?" asked Angela into the silence. "Do they want to go?"

"Yes, they do." Charlotte shrugged. "I asked them earlier today, and they were surprised as well, but they seem very eager to get in contact with family members. I can't blame them."

"At least the full moon was only three days ago," said Remus, absent-mindedly rubbing a sore shoulder. "She might not have known how to deal with it."

"Actually, she didn't sound too unnerved by the prospect," replied Charlotte. "It was the first thing she asked, though."

"Well, that's even for the better!" cried Connie enthusiastically. Gómez gave her a dark look; he had never been able to comprehend her optimistic nature and, Remus suspected, found it rather annoying. Remus, however, was quite glad Connie was like this.

"So that's that," said Charlotte. "This is why there will only be seven children with us at Christmas, and that's why -" She made a dramatic pause, pulling another letter out of her pocket. "We're going to the north of Scotland to have a real, snowy Christmas."

Gómez looked just as puzzled as Remus. "Where are we staying?"

"Oh, in a house my mother inherited a while ago," Charlotte said, suddenly looking extremely embarrassed. "It's never used, but the house-elf should have kept things tidy."

"Wait a minute," said Gómez, and there was actually a small smile playing around his lips. "Your mother owns a house in Scotland, and she's letting you use it?"

Charlotte replied with the same sardonic smile. "Yes, I don't know what's got into her lately. She even sent me a postcard the other day."

Gómez snorted, but Remus noticed that neither of the women looked very amused. He himself didn't know what to think; he didn't know much about Charlotte's relationship with her parents, but from the few hints she had dropped, they had neither approved of her leaving France nor of her decision to care for werewolf children.

"So," Charlotte said, a little too briskly - she never stayed on the subject for long - "Who's coming? Angela? Connie?"

Angela suddenly smiled wickedly, while Connie looked somehow uncomfortable.

"I'm coming," Angela said. "But I think Connie's been invited elsewhere."

Connie shot her an extremely ugly look, one that Remus had never seen on her - but then, he had often found that women could be quite different among themselves.

Charlotte looked at Connie, her whole face a question, and Connie sighed. But it didn't sound at all unhappy.

"I've been invited by Steve's parents," she said rather shyly.

"WHAT?" shouted Charlotte and jumped from her chair, causing them all to shrink back in alarm. Her outburts were often unpredictable.

"Connie!" Charlotte looked as though she was battling with herself whether to be outraged or extremely pleased. "When? How? Why didn't you TELL me?"

"You were busy." Connie smiled. "Oh, come on, you can stop looking daggers at me. It happened not long ago, and I was going to tell you one of these days."

Charlotte snorted disbelievingly, but her rage seemed to have evaporated (as it always did). "Connie, that is wonderful." She grinned and sat back down. "And about bloody time."

Remus had no idea who Steve could be, but he still felt happy for Connie. She had always struck him as an extremely likeable person, and somehow he had always had the impression that her thoughts were with somebody else most of the time.

"So how about you? Teri? Pablo?" Charlotte asked the two, who were sitting in their usual corner.

Gómez nodded, but Teri shook her head, looking unusually timid. "No, I'm spending Christmas with my nephew and his grandmother." She stole a quick glance at Remus, and he smiled at her.

~~~

"No way, Sirius. It's too dangerous."

"Dumbledore said it could work if we're really careful."

"Dumbledore! Dumbledore... he has his mind elsewhere at the moment." Remus sighed. He didn't even know why he was getting so angry. Perhaps because Sirius had always had a knack for dangerous ideas.

Sirius grinned from inside the fire. "Yes, sure. Dumbledore is distracted, and Remus Lupin always has a complete overview over the situation. Hmm, why does that sound wrong?"

"Oh shut up." Remus shifted closer to the fire, holding up his hands to warm them. "Sirius, you know the facts. Peter knows you're an Animagus, obviously, and if they see a large dog in my company - look, I bet Malfoy has even managed to spread the word at the Ministry. I don't think Voldemort cares whether it's him who catches you, or the Aurors."

"I realize that. What, do you think I'm not paranoid enough already?" Sirius made a face. "Fine, if you want to talk about facts - a fact is also that we haven't seen each other, really seen each other, since the start of the school year. And it's Christmas and all."

"And seeing me in black and white most of the time will qualify as really seeing me?"

"Hey, it's better than nothing."

Remus shook his head. "Padfoot, I want to see you too. But how am I going to explain about the dog? I just happen to have this dog of enormous size - and of enormous independence, since he's lived alone for four months?"

Sirius smiled. "Well, he's very well trained," he said, and added when Remus sighed impatiently, "Look, Moony, those are not real reasons. You'll tell them I stayed with somebody else, I'll arrive there in the middle of the night, and no Auror will ever know I was there. I don't suppose your students or colleagues have any intimate contacts to Ministry officials."

Remus rolled his eyes. At this point, he knew, it was better to give in than to object. When Sirius got into one of his stubborn moods, he was bound to be more careless. "Fine, if you insist..." And he did want to see him, after all.

Sirius smiled contentedly. "You were just against it because that means you have to get me a present."

"What, you think I'm worried about finding some bones for my dog?"

"See, we have to meet so I can punch you."

~~~

Anne-Laure's mother arrived just as Charlotte was in the middle of a loud rant against the Ministry, four days before Christmas. She stood there, holding her baby, both of them tiny compared to Sir Anthony who had escorted her into the staff room, and both looking on with wide eyes, while Charlotte was snarling furiously.

"Not even a Portkey! What do they think I'm doing here, training them to become servants of You-Know-Who, preparing them to spend a nice and cosy Christmas with him, perhaps? Can you tell me why the hell they would prefer having seven young werewolves travel through all of Great Britain by train instead of authorizing a Portkey? I just don't believe - oh, Mme Dauphin!"

She rushed forward, all rage forgotten, and kissed the other woman on both cheeks. "Vous êtes là ! C'est formidable!"

And Remus suddenly realized that he would not be able to understand a word Anne-Laure's mother said. Somehow, he hadn't remembered about having used the Loquilingua Charm when they had met; Mme Dauphin apparently did not realize this either, because she addressed him with a very fast, very long speech, which Remus could only reply to with a lame "Bonjour."

Charlotte laughed, and after a French explanation, she turned to Remus. "She said that she's very sorry about the way her husband treated you, and that she's grateful you came, and that she's glad her daughter has such caring teachers."

Remus, feeling himself blush slightly, inclined his head. "Merci, Madame."

It turned out that Mme Dauphin spoke just as little English as he did French, but that didn't matter as she was here to see her daughter; so Charlotte took her downstairs. A few minutes later, Remus and his colleagues could hear a muffled squeal, followed by loud, excited talk.

"The dear girl," Charlotte said as she closed the door behind her back. "I don't think I've ever seen her this happy."

"Does her father know about this?" Gómez asked.

Charlotte shook her head. "No, Noémie told him she was visiting a friend in Aix. She's going back tonight, but she says she's planning to visit us very often now. Now, where were we?" Her face fell. "Oh yes. Well, we'll have to get train tickets. I suppose there should only be two of us to accompany them, as that will save us money. The other two can go ahead and prepare things."

"Make that one person," said Angela, who, next to her function as Matron, was also responsible for the school's finances. "I'll go with them, I'll manage to keep them in line. You, Pablo and Remus can Apparate directly."

Charlotte nodded. "Well, I'll go to Plymouth tonight then to buy the tickets. I wanted to go give Connie her present anyway."

Yes, presents. "I'll come with you," said Remus.

~~~

The tickets and presents had been bought, and Angela and the children had left early in the morning. They were taking the train to Bristol, catching a plane to Edinburgh, and taking the train from Edinburgh to their final destination. Not the most comfortable of itineraries, but it had been the cheapest and shortest.

Remus, Gómez and Charlotte had Apparated into the - very impressive - house near Hogsmeade, and after a while Remus had left the two to preparations while he went to get his "dog". This meant, of course, that he couldn't Apparate back, so he had a few hours with Sirius. He had told them that "Snuffles" lived (very conveniently) with a friend in Hogsmeade; it was not too far from where they were, but it was still a walk of over two hours. Gómez had shaken his head and muttered something about the English and their strange ways; Charlotte had laughed and said that she liked a good walk through the snow, too.

Sirius hadeen in Hogsmeade for a week, and it seemed Harry had already visited him.

"So how is he?" Remus asked. They were walking through a forest of dark, closely-packed conifers, and Sirius had just taken on his human form again.

His friend shrugged. "Honestly? I don't know. I think he's slowly come to terms with Cedric's death, but all that pressure on him from all sides - not just from Voldemort, I mean. The whole Boy Who Lived thing, he's bound to crack at some point. There were moments where I thought he was going to start shouting at me."

Remus shook his head, his teeth set. "He's just too young..."

"And yet he's stronger than any boy his age I've ever known."

Remus nodded. As a teacher at Hogwarts, he had been astounded at Harry's resilience and strength of character, even though he had known what sort of persons his parents had been. Perhaps he had thought that all those years at the Dursleys had worn him out... no, he supposed the main reason for his surprise was very simple: He had still seen Harry as a little baby.

They continued in silence for a long while; the trees ended and Sirius turned back into a dog, running ahead of Remus, no doubt trying to shake off his worries. It was astonishing, if Remus thought about it, how very sincerely attached his friend had become to Harry. Sirius had always been very committed to his friends, of course, but that was on a different level somehow - he was actually taking on the role of a father, and although back in the days he and his friends would have laughed at the mere thought, Remus now thought it suited him rather well.

It was getting dark when they arrived at the house, and the noise coming from it told Remus that the children had arrived. An impression that was confirmed when he entered the house with Snuffles, and Jorge and Gabriel ran towards them at once. It was possibly the first time he saw these two behaving like young boys.

"Wow, that dog is enormous!" exclaimed Jorge, ruffling Sirius' fur - he didn't seem to be afraid at all of the dog's size. "What's his name? Where did you get him?"

"His name is Snuffles," Remus said, smiling amusedly as the other children started approaching the dog timidly and stroking it. Snuffles looked taken aback at first - it was a long time since he had been the centre of young attention - but quickly got used to it and started playing with them. "He came to my house one day, years ago. An example of the dog choosing the wizard, I suppose." The others laughed.

"Ah, that explains it," said Angela. "I was a bit surprised there at your choice. I had pictured you with a different kind of dog."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, something more... aristocratic." She grinned, and Snuffles barked - very clearly a laugh. Remus glared at both of them.

The two days until Christmas passed by in a blur. Remus hadn't felt so relaxed in a long time. They spent their time playing with the children and Snuffles in the snow, taking walks through the wild countryside, reading, and - not to forget - eating more than should be allowed. The house-elf (who seemed delighted that "Mistress Charlotte" was much more amiable than her mother; although any allusions in that direction were followed by self-punishment) cooked delicious meals, but it turned out that OIivier was a very good cook, too. His favourite subject was obviously Muggle Studies.

At night, when everyone had gone to bed, Remus let Sirius into his room, placed a Silencing Charm on the walls, and they talked through the whole night. Neither of them was getting any sleep, of course.

"Remember that Christmas..."

"... when James proposed to Lily? Of course."

"That was so romantic..."

"You were so jealous..."

"I was not jealous!" Sirius lifted himself up from the carpet to stare accusingly at Remus. Then he smiled ruefully. "Okay, I was maybe a bit afraid that things would change. And, yeah, maybe I reacted a bit childishly."

"It wasn't childish, it was just extremely stupid." Remus laughed out loud at Sirius' renewed glare. "I don't understand why everything has to change, why do things have to change?" he wailed, in what he thought was a rather good imitation of Sirius' voice.

"Moony, shut up or I'll kick you."

"Always the man to respond with raw violence to something you don't like."

The violent man kicked him, and Remus laughed.

"So what do you think?" he asked, and Sirius understood what he meant at once.

"Oh, they're wonderful!" he exclaimed, and lay back down on the carpet. "The children are so nice, and I really like Charlotte and Angela. That Gómez person is a bit odd, but then you'd told me as much."

"Oh well." Remus rolled onto hs stomach on the bed. "You get used to him, I suppose. He respects me more than he used to. We get along."

Sirius nodded.

"Anyway, aren't you glad I convinced you to come here?" asked Remus - and for the first time in years, he heard Sirius' loud, barking laugh again.

"Yes, Professor, it was one of your more ingenious ideas."

On Christmas Eve, the children, Remus and Charlotte spent the whole afternoon and evening building a massive snowman outside, who was riding on a broom and playing Quidditch; and who, of course, when he was done, required a snow-woman to keep him company. When this was accomplished, the children seemed to think it a good idea to make snowmen of each other, and Snuffles barked joyfully as students and teachers alike threw snowballs at each other.

When everyone had finally settled down around the fire (it had taken a while to pull Rachel off Jorge's back after he had slipped a snowball into her jumper), and all the children were equipped with a mug of hot chocolate, Charlotte took out a book and began reading them Christmas tales from various countries, wizarding and Muggle folklore alike. Finally, she put down the book, and Anne-Laure clasped her hands together.

"Oh, Professor, please tell us the story of the French frog!"

The children cheered, while Charlotte laughed and Gómez groaned. It seemed to be some sort of ritual.

"I'm sure you all know it by heart now!" Charlotte said, smiling wickedly.

"Yes, but nobody can tell it like you," said Marí-a Aciano eagerly. These Christmas story sessions must be one of the highlights of the year for her, Remus thought; she didn't normally speak up.

"All right," sighed Charlotte. S settled back in her chair, the book lying closed in her lap.

"Once upon a time in ze land of Marianne," she began, imitating a very strong French accent, and Anne-Laure started giggling. "Zare leeved a beauteeful princess named Emilie. She 'ad everysing a French princess could dream of: Long, dark 'air, long, dark eyelashees, and long, dark rows of bottles in 'er wine cellar. Unfortunately, Emilie's parents were a shame to French royalty, because zey deedn't be'ave like a Roi and Reine ought to. Ze Roi spent most of 'is time in ze keetchen, cooking ze servant's meals because it was ze only sing zat made 'im 'appy. 'e made zem frog legs, frog 'eads, frog bellies, frog snouts, frog eye soup, and zair was also ze occasional escargot. And Emilie's muzzer toured around ze country singing chansons and earning money to support ze Roi's eccentric lifestyle. So one day, Emilie ran away. After a long, tiring walk of fifteen meenutes, she came to a fountain where zere sat a frog. 'Kiss me and I will become a beauteeful prince!' said ze frog. So Emilie leefted up ze frog and tried to kiss eet, but -"

Charlotte paused, looking around. Most of the children were leaning back in their armchairs, shaking in silent laughter. Apparently, they really knew the story by heart; it looked as though they could hardly hold themselves back from blurting out the ending.

"But in ze moment she lifted ze frog up to 'er mouss," Charlotte continued, "she was suddenly overwhelmed wiss ze delicious smell of it, and she swallowed ze frog 'ole. Zen she walked back to ze castle and became 'er fazzer's apprentice in ze keetchen. And zey cooked 'appily ever after."

There was a loud thump, and Anne-Laure was lying half on the floor, half on Snuffles, holding her stomach, and the other children laughed even harder.

Remus chuckled to himself, shaking his head. "And you told me off for being prejudiced against the French?" he said, and Charlotte laughed.

"Ah, you see, there's the difference - I'm allowed to do this. I would be terribly offended if you told a similar story."

"Of course."

Charlotte looked round. The laughter was slowly ebbing away, and Anne-Laure was picking herself up. "So, anyone know another story? You're welcome to share them."

Marí-a Aciano coughed and looked down, and Remus saw Jorge Guerrera and Gabriel Hernández exchange a meaningful look. Finally, Jorge gave a very slight nod, and Gabriel cleared his throat.

"Under the circumstances, Jorge and I have decided to give one present early," he said, and standing up, he took a magazine he had been sitting on, and handed it solemnly to Marí-a. "Feliz Navidad, Marieta."

Marí-a looked puzzled at first, but when she looked at the magazine title, understanding dawned at once on her face, and she quickly looked back up at Gabriel. Remus, craning his neck along with everyone else, finally saw the title when Marí-a opened the magazine - Witch Weekly, Special Christmas Edition.

"I... I won!" she gasped.

"Yes," said Jorge, a proud little smile on his face that Remus had never seen before on the boy. "Your story won the contest, Marieta."

Remus exchanged a look with Charlotte, who shrugged - clearly, she hadn't been let in on the secret either.

"What kind of story is this, Marí-a?" he asked. He'd had no idea of this hobby of hers; but then, the shy eleven-year-old rarely exposed any of her thoughts, feelings or talents.

"It's a fairy-tale," she said in a small voice. "Karolka has a subscription to this, and she told me to participate in their children's writing contest. I didn't think it'd get printed at all, and then they wrote to me a few weeks ago asking me to proofread it, but..." she faltered and looked at the page again. "They didn't tell me I'd won."

"Well, that's not exactly true," said Gabriel, smiling mischievously, and pulled a letter out of his pocket. "You just didn't get that second letter."

"We thought it would be a nice surprise," added Jorge, and Marí-a smiled at them.

"That's wonderful, Marí-a!" exclaimed Charlotte. "Well... can we hear it?"

Marí-a blushed. "It's... it's not very good."

"Marí-a, you won the bloody contest," said Jorge exasperatedly, earning reprimands from all sides at , which he waved away impatiently. "Of course it's good."

Marí-a took a deep breath and started to read, very fluently and with a lot of expression for her age - but then, Remus suspected that she knew the story by heart.

"There once lived a girl who had everything she could dream of - beauty, wealth and many friends. Eliza was very happy, and she gave her money to the poor, always told her friends nice things, and never looked into the mirror. But she had a terrible secret, one that she knew would take all those things away from her if anyone ever found out. She had done many things to avoid anyone ever finding this out about her, because she feared that her friends might abandon her forever.

Eliza was a witch.

Well, half a witch, anyway. Her mother had been one, she knew - her father said she had died giving birth, but Eliza knew there must be something else he had never told her. How else could she explain all those strange things she did?

But Eliza liked life among normal people, and she never felt the urge to use her talent. However, when she grew older, she met a young, handsome man whom she grew to love very much, and she felt she could not marry him without telling him the truth about herself.

So one day, she said to him, 'There is something I have to tell you.'

'What can it be, beautiful Eliza?' asked her fiancé. 'Whatever it is, it will never bring us apart.'

'It's a secret about my mother... and me,' she stammered, and he took her hands into his. 'Eliza, nothing could change my love for you.'

She looked into those brown eyes, and in that moment she believed him, and said, in a trembling voice, 'My mother is a witch.'

Whatever she had expected, it was not this: He took a step back and stared at her, as though seeing her for the first time. Then he started shouting and chased her out of the house. And so it was with everyone she came to, because they had all heard, and her oldest friends wanted nothing to do with her anymore. She pleaded and begged and tried to convince them that she was still Eliza, that nothing had changed. But it was no good. Her friends were scared of her, and her father chased her out of their home because he was scared, too.

For days on end Eliza roamed around the country, trying to find work, a place to live; but word always seemed to travel faster than she did, and from every town she was chased, and the people yelled after her that she was lucky they didn't burn her alive. Finally, she was so tired that she sat down in a forest and cried bitterly.

Suddenly there was a shimmering light in front of her, and she lifted her head to see a beautiful woman, surrounded by a warm glow, who was smiling down at her.

'Do not cry, Eliza,' she said, and her voice was as soft as the rustling of leaves. 'I am a fairy, and I'm here to take you into my kingdom.'

Eliza sniffed. 'You don't hate me because I'm a witch?'

'Of course not,' said the fairy, smiling at her. 'You're Eliza. Beautiful, caring, gentle Eliza. Not some dangerous sorceress who is out to kill other people.'

'But why do they hate me so?' Eliza demanded, thinking of her fiancé, her friends... her own father.

'Because they don't understand you. They will, one day, but until that day, you will live with me, and wait.' And the fairy took Eliza by the hand, and together they went to the fairy's kingdom, where Eliza lived happily ever after."

Nobody spoke for a long while. Remus stole a look at Charlotte and saw that she was surreptitiously wiping her eyes. Snuffles walked slowly over to Marí-a and rested his head in her lap.

"Read what they wrote about you," Gabriel said in a husky voice, and Marí-a looked down again.

"Are you quite sure about this?" Gómez asked, and Marí-a nodded mutely. Remus, moved by Marí-a's display of loyalty and her very grown-up decision - he wasn't sure he would have done the same thing at eleven - looked again at Charlotte. She was sitting in her armchair, looking at Marí-a with an earnest expression, and suddenly she stood up, kissed the girl on both cheeks and hugged her very tightly.

***