Grim Spectre

Lupin sagged weakly as he stared down at the photograph. He still hadn't gotten over the shock. It showed Wormtail nesting so comfortably in Ron Weasley's hands, instead of being blown to bits by Sirius Black as Lupin had believed for over twelve years...

Until yesterday.

Also on the table was a photograph of Peter Pettigrew in his human form. It was a well-worn photograph which Lupin had cherished and gazed upon for 12 long years. He had meditated upon it in profound sorrow, profound hurt at such betrayal to a little, inoffensive man, and yet with surprised admiration that such an inoffensive man could have pulled off an Order of Merlin, 1^st Class. Now he gazed upon that same photograph with a new-found revulsion which Lupin still found difficult to take in ... yet there it was, in the Daily Prophet - Wormtail, as plain as day, and no mistake.

Besides, it all made sense of what had been baffling Lupin about Myrtle and the Grim for so long. Such a curious friendship which had created a Wizard's Debt did not square with the popular image of Sirius Black the mad mass murderer. For that matter, the popular image of Sirius Black the mad mass murderer had never squared with the image that Lupin had always held of his dear friend Padfoot.

However, it did square with the notion that the popular image of Sirius Black as the mad mass-murdering Deatheater was totally wrong. It was the only way anything would make sense...

The question was - where to go from here?

Lupin's first impulse had been to go straight to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and speak directly to Sirius - but he immediately squashed that idea. Every fibre of his instinct screamed against it, and the reasons were not hard to seek.

For a start, there was the complete and utter lack of proper evidence. There was only the word from himself, Sirius Black, Moaning Myrtle and a half-Kneazle cat that the rat in the newspaper clipping was Peter Pettigrew in Animagus form. None of that would make any headway with the Wizengamot - even if they did somehow convince Dumbledore.

Furthermore, Moaning Myrtle had informed him that Sirius had never forgotten Lupin turning his back on him at the moment when Sirius had desperately needed it the most. Lupin sagged even more glumly now that he knew that moment had been one of the many foul memories to torture Sirius over and over in Azkaban. Even at this very moment it was tormenting him over and over in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. That was the cause for Grim's blood-curdling howling and wailing that was now emanating from Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and was being made all the more nerve-wracking from the dreadful acoustics of the toilet bowl. As Lupin shuddered at that ghastly howling, that moment from long ago was niggling to torment him over and over as well...

No, he couldn't think about that right now...

Finally, there was the matter of Snape. Lupin was getting the most dreadful feeling about Snape. Of course there was little love lost between him and Snape; there always had been. And Lupin was well aware that Snape suspected him more than capable of aiding and abetting Sirius Black. Lupin grinned ruefully at the irony. As it turned out he was indeed aiding and abetting Sirius Black, but for the completely opposite reasons that Snape or the Ministry would accuse him of.

But that was not the real problem. Lupin had considerable reason to believe that Snape was on the same track as himself. This morning Madam Pince had given him a most dreadful shock when she advised him to promptly return Thomas Gazer's Ancient and Cunninge Mirror Magick to the library as Professor Snape had put in a reserve for it. Moreover, she sternly advised Lupin to return the book as quickly as possible as Professor Snape had been most frustrated to discover that the book he so desperately wanted had been taken out. Madam Pince had hopefully informed Professor Snape that Professor Lupin currently had the book in his possession. If he were to approach Professor Lupin, surely he would be so kind -

It was at this point that Professor Snape hurled the most ferocious snarl that jolted even the irritable Madam Pince. He stormed right out of the library before she had half the chance to administer her trademark admonishing on him for breaking the noise restrictions of the library.

Perhaps Lupin was now feeling the heat of that frustrated admonishing when Madam Pince made it unmistakably clear that if he did not return that book as quickly as possible, he would suffer her...displeasure.

However Madam Pince's displeasure was not the only doom that would fall upon the head of Professor Lupin. If Snape should somehow "beat him to the punch" as Muggles called it, it would mean a one-way trip to Azkaban if the Ministry drew the same conclusions as Snape was bound to. And if either of them should catch him in the bathroom as Sirius, they would definitely draw those conclusions...

That would mean the end of not only him, but Sirius...

Two days ago The Daily Prophet that the Ministry had authorised the Dementor's Kiss to be applied the moment Sirius Black was apprehended. Dashing lot of good it would do now that Sirius was dead, yet it gave Lupin the most violent gutting-churning to think of it. His stomach shuddered even more violently at what they might do to Sirius if they found out he had become a ghost. Moaning Myrtle, Lupin knew, had been confined to her bathroom by the Ministry. Perhaps they would confine Sirius to a cell in Azkaban for all eternity, with not even death to relieve him of its miseries...

Unless they could prove that Sirius was innocent...

And they could not do that without producing Peter Pettigrew alive, in the flesh and a snivelling servant of Voldemort...

No, no, no. Keep away from the bathroom and leave Sirius to howl in peace.

There was only one other course to take - and Lupin was so thankful that he had the resources to accomplish it

*~*~*

Moste Cunninge Uses for thy Master Mirror...

Including the one that Lupin had been so anxious to implement for Sirius Black: Howe to use thy Master Mirror for the moste cunninge and relentlesse hunt of thy quarry...

Lupin had planned to utilise that particular "cunninge use" so his Master Mirror could show him whenever Sirius Black was in any of the toilets at any time. All you needed to modify the Master Mirror in this way was a picture of your quarry and an item belonging to them. However, the problem had been a dearth of obtainable items belonging to Sirius Black.

Now Lupin had returned to that chapter with renewed interest. At long last, he could make that modification to his Master Mirror - but with one difference...

In front of him lay a copy of the newspaper clipping Myrtle had shown to him the day before. It had been a trivial matter to track it down in the library. There are no photocopiers in the wizard world but it was simple enough to magic a copy.

It was for this reason that Lupin had scrounged desperately for whatever items he could find that had belonged to Peter Pettigrew. Acquiring images were simple enough. There was the picture of Wormtail from the newspaper cutting and the until-now cherished photograph. Unfortunately, personal belongings were another matter. After all, a weak, snivelling person could not make much of a mark on the world so he would not leave much behind. There was nothing Lupin had kept which belonged to Peter Pettigrew, nor did an intense search of Hogwarts yield any of Pettigrew's old school belongings (that was the trouble of being such a nondescript student). And Lupin badly needed an item belonging to Peter Pettigrew if he was able to do what he desperately needed to do if he was to clear Sirius.

Then Lupin began to feel sudden nudges at his elbow, followed by a sudden nip as Crookshanks gently clenched his teeth on Lupin's hand. It was not the naughty sort of nip that ordinary cats might give. It was an earnest tugging at the hand that said, "Come on, come on! I want to show you something!"

In the Gryffindor boys' dormitory, Lupin gave a crow of delight as Crookshanks purred triumphantly on Ron's bed. There was Scabbers' cage! Ron had been keeping it vigilantly beside his bed. Inside was the vial of rat tonic which Ron had been dosing Scabbers with. Now it lay in the cage, probably kept there in lieu of Scabbers.

Now these items could be defined as belonging to Peter Pettigrew.

Lupin frowned. What could he take from these items without Ron missing anything...?

*~*~*

Back in Lupin's quarters, Crookshanks and Moaning Myrtle hovered in anticipation. Everything was set.

The newspaper clipping.

The tattered photograph.

And a few rat hairs retrieved from Scabbers' cage.

All set in a neat little row before the Master Mirror, which reflected the flickering of the seven candles arranged in a pentagram around the whole ensemble.

All that was needed now was the final incantation...

Lupin gave one final, solemn glance at the instructions before him...

He raised his wand...

Myrtle could not help a timid, awed shudder as Lupin intoned the enchantment that would attune the Master Mirror to the "most cunninge and relentlesse pursuit" of Peter Pettigrew.

A serpent of circling, golden light issued from the wand. It ringed the pentagram before enveloping the Master Mirror and the collection of items within. In seconds it would fuse the items into the Master Mirror itself and the tuning would be complete.

Provided of course, that your quarry was alive. The book stated quite clearly that this particular enchantment would not work if the quarry in question was already dead.

The circle of golden light condensed around the Master Mirror itself. Slender golden tendrils snaked forth and touched upon the items assembled before them. There were a few awful, uncertain seconds as the tendrils fingered and prodded the items gingerly, as if inspecting them to see if they were genuine. Lupin found he could breathe again when the tendrils finally enveloped the items in tiny ringlets of coils before sucking them back into the mother light...

The light faded.

Lupin glanced down nervously.

The items were nowhere to be seen.

The enchantment had been successful.

If Lupin had any doubts about Peter Pettigrew being alive, they had to evaporate now. The success of the charm was the proof that Peter Pettigrew was alive.

As the realisation sank in, Lupin began to sag and whimper with an odd mix of relief and triumph, and a brimming bubble of delight that he was finally able to do something...