Professor Lupin's Apprentice

VII: Damage Control

There were two rooms available on the ground floor, and I began my usual speech as we entered the first. "I've had lavatories installed in each of these rooms, since I personally despise the idea of communal baths, although there is one public WC on each floor."

He examined the door closely, then the window latches. "This will do."

"There's another room available on the next floor. Don't you want to look at that?" It's closer to me, I thought.

"No, no, this is fine," he replied, testing the bed. "Unless ... I don't mind taking a smaller room, since you won't be making any money off me."

"All the rooms are about the same size," I said, somewhat disappointed.

He looked adorably confused again. "Then—Oh! You'd like me to be closer to your ... penthouse?"

My cheeks burnt. "Only if that doesn't bother you," I answered quietly.

Remus smiled and shook his head. "Not at all," he replied.

When we'd climbed the next flight of stairs, he went through this same routine of examining the next room. The first floor windows had recently been opened to air the room, and he closed the window, then locked it. He tried to raise it and, seeming satisfied it was sturdy enough, turned to me.

"I don't suppose I could get bars installed on the windows? I'll cover the expense, of course."

"Bars on the windows?" I had thought before he might work for the government. Now I wasn't so sure he wasn't hiding from them. "Why?"

Remus took in my puzzled expression and nodded. After walking past me quickly and closing the door, he put his hands together in a prayerful gesture, raised his fingertips to his lips, and sighed.

"I'm not trying to annoy you or destroy your home, Melinda. I have reasons for everything I ask, even if I cannot explain them."

"Remus, are you hiding from someone?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"Who?" I asked.

"Too many people to name," he said sadly, shaking his head.

I would have asked him to explain further, although I suspected that would do no good, when the oddest expression came over his face. He brushed past me to the chest of drawers by the window and retrieved something that looked like a piece of old-fashioned parchment paper with—unless I was very much mistaken—green writing on the front.

"What's that?"

"Nothing," he replied quickly, secreting the object somewhere in the folds of his coat.

"Remus, are you a spy?" I asked, my tone bordering on hysterical. I don't know what possessed me to say that, but he had a hearty laugh from my question.

"No, Melinda, I'm not a spy," he said, curbing his laughter to a beaming smile. "Although I daresay that's the most flattering accusation I've ever had hurled at me. Might I have a look at that card and telephone directory now? I have some work to do ... Oh, and may I borrow an ink pen and some paper?"

"Only if you'll let me help you," I said, defiantly.

His eyebrows rose, and then he frowned. "I welcome your help up to a point, but I have do most of this on my own."

"What are you going to do?"

"I have to find the people who've read Hauntings of Hogwarts and ... talk to them. Feel them out, you know. See if they're any threat. I'd appreciate your help with the finding their addresses, but I must speak to them alone."

"All right," I said, pulling the book from my satchel. I also handed him a blank pad and pen before leaving to find the telephone directory. When I returned, I cleared my throat. "Might I offer a suggestion?"

"Certainly," he said, studying the card.

I closed the door behind me. "You'll want some new clothes first ... Not that I don't think you look devastatingly handsome just as you are."

"Thank you." He blushed and smiled as I sat next to him on the bed. "But you're quite right. I'm sure I'd look a fright to a stranger. Would you mind coming along tomorrow and helping me pick out something?"

"I'd be honoured," I said, brushing his hair off his forehead as I presented the telephone directory.

He pointed at the library card with the pen. "Can you make out this third name?"

"Mulroony Jenkins," I said. "The local chemist. Nice enough man, but he has dreadful penmanship."

Remus had copied all the names, leaving space to write in their addresses below. I, in turn, looked them up in the directory, and in no time we'd compiled the list. When he'd asked if I would help him pick out clothes tomorrow, I suspected there would be no further action on this quest tonight. My watch read a quarter of seven.

"It's almost dinner time," I said. "Are you hungry? Thankfully my kitchen staff cooks much better than Gladys Tucker."

"Is it time to show me off to the other tenants already?" he asked, sounding somewhat apprehensive.

"Yes," I said firmly. "So you'll want to look your best. I'll leave you alone to wash up." I ruffled his hair and gave him I quick peck on the cheek. Then I stood and started toward the door. "Oh, I just realised you don't have any of your things here yet. I suppose you'll have to come upstairs with me to wash up then. Or I can take you to pick them up now if you want? Your things, that is. We'll be a tad late for dinner, but I'm sure they'll be plenty to spare."

He shook his head. "Melinda, I don't want you to put yourself out on my account."

"Remus, it's no trouble, really."

"No, I'll bring my things back myself in the morning," he said, waving dismissively and rising. "So, it's upstairs with you then."

Remus washed for dinner as I waited on the sofa. When he joined me, hair freshly combed, he looked as smart as a ragged man could. From his expression, it seemed he would rather meet his new neighbours in the new clothes we would purchase the following day, but he carried himself with dignity nonetheless.

"I could have dinner brought up, if you prefer," I suggested.

His eyebrows rose. "Ashamed to be seen with me?"

"No!" I replied with a vehement shake of my head. "Not in the slightest. I've been seen with you the whole day, after all."

"Not in front of your tenants, though," he replied, with one of his eyebrows still raised.

"True..."

"If you'd be more comfortable, then by all means—"

"I'm not ashamed of you!" I snapped.

"I know you aren't," he said, before sitting beside me and kissing my temple. "But I am. I was only teasing you. Please have dinner brought up. That way we can do some work whilst we eat."

I rose automatically, but then stopped and asked, "What work? I thought you weren't going to do anything more about that book until tomorrow."

"That's correct, but I've been painfully lax in my other duties today."

"What other duties?"

"Your magic tutoring, of course."

"Oh, that! You know, with all we've done today, I'd quite forgotten."

I rang the kitchen, asking them to prepare two trays of food and send them in the dumbwaiter. Remus seemed fascinated with my use of the telephone, although he tried to hide the fact. Within five minutes, we were enjoying steak and kidney pudding with roast potatoes and talking about magical creatures. This seemed to be his main area of interest, and he spoke with a lovely light in his eyes.

For all his paranoia and the strange conditions he imposed on moving in, the impression I'd had of him so far was—even though he was not completely comfortable in his worn clothing—he was exceptionally comfortable in his own skin. I found this quality appealing, and I felt more comfortable when I was with him than I ever had in my life. Even more at ease than when I was alone. Having known him a grand total of twelve days, I was surprised when the thought that he could be a permanent fixture in my life occurred somewhere in the back of my mind.

From a young age, I had thought I would never marry. I'd had the typical fairy-tale dreams of meeting my knight in shining armour—who would carry me off to his castle—and living happily ever after with him. Of course, in my dreams, I would be able to perform magic, and my knightly husband would not only accept that but also encourage it. While Remus was no knight, he certainly encouraged my interest in magic. That, in and of itself, was enough to endear him. Although I didn't tell him for a while afterward, I fell in love with him that night, and I suspected he fell in love with me then, as well. We talked until after midnight, and I think we would have talked for much longer had we not already had a long day and much more to do the next.

"Are you going to stay here tonight?" I asked.

As soon as the words had left my mouth, I realised what they implied. I meant would he stay downstairs in his new room, although I blushed as I realised I wouldn't mind in the slightest if he wanted to spend the night in my bed. If he caught the latter possibility, he didn't show it. Ever the gentleman!

"No, I think I'll bid farewell to my old rooms," he said, rising. "I'll bring my belongings back first thing, and hopefully I'll miss the breakfast rush."

As I followed him toward the door, he again declined the offer of a ride. He then kissed me good night, and I clung to him for not nearly long enough. It probably was a full five minutes, but I highly suspected no amount of cuddling would ever be enough to satisfy me.

I woke the next morning at half-past seven, dressed quickly, and headed downstairs. Remus had said he would bring his belongings first thing. I had no idea what his concept of "first thing" might be; however, I was determined to anticipate his arrival. Once I'd walked into the downstairs kitchen to get a glass of orange juice, I passed the kitchen door, opened the cupboard, and pulled out a tumbler. When I closed the cupboard again, I started, nearly dropping the glass. Remus was in the yard, his back facing the door and dragging a large chest. He hadn't been there only a second before. The cook, who was already preparing breakfast, turned at my yelp.

"Are you all righ', Miss?" she asked.

"Yes, Martha, I'm fine," I said, a hand on my heaving chest.

"Who's 'at in the yard?"

"That's a new tenant: Professor Lupin." I set the tumbler on the counter. "I didn't see him there at first, and it startled me."

"He's a ragtag one, inut 'e?"

"Yes, he's had a rough life," I said sadly, nodding and heading toward the door. "But he's a very nice man." I opened the door and stepped outside. "Good morning, Remus."

He turned and smiled. "Good morning, Melinda." As I approached to embrace him, he nodded toward the door and added, "Your cook is watching."

"I don't particularly care," I said, before taking him in my arms and kissing him. When we parted, he bent to drag his chest again. "Leave that. I have someone take it upstairs for you."

"I'm perfectly capable," he protested.

"I know you are—you big strong man, you—but you've already lugged it far enough for today."

He laughed and put his arm around me.

"Come inside and let's have some breakfast before we go shopping." Inside, I introduced Remus to Martha and pulled two plates from the cupboard. "We'll be taking our breakfast in the kitchen, Martha. Coffee or tea, Remus?"

"Coffee, thank you," he said, sitting and watching me set the table.

As I fussed over him, he sat with his chin in his hand, a small grin on his face. I couldn't quite tell if the smile meant amusement or appreciation, but either was acceptable. My urge to protect him was almost immediate and very strong, and he endured my ministrations even if he didn't especially enjoy them. I imagined he felt the same sort of urge when it came to instructing me.

Martha gave us the first of the scrambled eggs, bacon, and buttered toast, and took the remainder to the dining room. We ate quietly, smiling at one another a great deal between bites. I'm sure at that point anyone watching us would have had trouble keeping down his or her own breakfast, but thankfully we were alone in the kitchen. After we'd eaten, I saw to it that his trunk would be taken to his room, with the door securely locked behind it, and then we took my car to the local men's boutique.

As far as I could tell from the outfits I'd seen, Remus' taste in clothes wasn't bad, although the clothes themselves had seen better days. I'm convinced he didn't expect to need my help so much for my fashion sense as for other things he might not understand about the shopping process. That suspicion notwithstanding, he asked my opinion of almost every article of clothing he liked.

He narrowed his selection to three nice pairs of trousers and five shirts in a mix of patterns and solids and then went to try them on. When he emerged from the dressing room, looking especially smart, I completely forgot to breathe. The clothes were not fancy by any stretch of the imagination, but—without hanging threads and moth-eaten holes—he was transformed. Never had I seen anyone more handsome.

"I suppose clothes do make the man, after all," he said with a grin, taking in my expression.

I talked him out of buying more than one pair of trousers and one shirt for the moment. There was, I explained, no sense in spending money on garments he would most likely outgrow now he was eating regularly. He agreed and left the shop with an excess of £150 in the pocket of his new trousers. We then went back to the boarding house. After I made him promise to be careful, he assured me there was no need of worry. While he reiterated that he was indeed hiding from some people, he added that he was quite certain they were not actively seeking him at the moment. He then left to scour the town in search of people who'd read Hauntings of Hogwarts. I went upstairs to read his old school books, trying not to worry.