Professor Lupin's Apprentice

IX: Is She or Isn't She?

"You're going to catch a fly in that mouth," Remus said with a smirk. With some effort, I forced my jaw closed and reached out to touch the fire. He suddenly jerked his arm and closed his fist, smothering the flame. "You'll hurt yourself!" he cried. "You don't want to get burnt. That's real fire, even though it won't hurt me."

"Can you teach me to do that?" I asked, taking his hand and examining his now empty palm.

"I don't know," he said slowly. "I can try, but I don't know if it'll work."

"Why not?"

"You're a Muggle, I'm afraid."

"A what?"

"A Muggle. That's what wizards and witches call non-magical people: Muggles."

"So that's why you were sniggering at the jeweller's name?"

"Yes, although it was rather childish of me, I'll admit. In my own defence, I must say I hadn't had a good laugh in months. I was overdue."

"Would you show me something else?" I asked, feeling not unlike a child on Christmas morning.

"Like what?" he asked with a shrug.

"Well ... what can you do?"

"I can Apparate and Disapparate—"

"What's that mean?"

"Appear and disappear as a means of travel. When you were worrying about my walking five miles to my home before, it wasn't necessary. I simply walked to the edge of town and Disapparated."

"What else can you do?"

"Loads of things. I can conjure objects, and I can turn objects into animals and back again—"

"Oh, I'd like to see that!"

Remus smiled. "Right." He reached behind him and he retrieved his Potions text, which he laid on the cushion between us whilst again pulling his wand. "What would you like? I'd recommend something fairly large but slow, so we don't have to be looking under furniture if it scurries off..."

"How about a sloth, then?"

"A sloth it is." He pointed his wand at the book and looked to be concentrating deeply. Next moment, his Potions text became a brown, three-toed tree sloth.

"Wow!" I breathed.

The sloth didn't look too happy about not being a book any longer, so Remus changed it back before it bit one of us. I smiled, amazed, but then I noticed he was rubbing his temples.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"I think I need to go to bed soon," he replied. "I'm still a bit weak."

"Do you need help downstairs?"

"No, I'll manage."

I walked him to the door and hugged him hard, saying, "Thank you, Remus."

"For what?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

"For showing me real magic before I died."

"My pleasure, Melinda." He pecked my brow, running his hands through my hair. "How would you feel about a picnic lunch tomorrow?"

"If you're up to it, I think that would be nice."

"I'm sure I'll be feeling fine tomorrow. Besides, fresh air might do me some good."

He kissed me good night, and I closed the door behind him, shaking my head. Professor Remus J. Lupin was a wizard. I wasn't entirely sure how to process this new information. Intuitively I had known he was different. Somehow I'd sensed the difference and was drawn to him because of that, since I don't normally date unemployed men. But what to do with the information now I had it? After sitting on the edge of my bed with a cup of tea for half an hour, and coming up with no practical plan of action whatsoever, I chose in the end simply to be in awe of him.

This decision must have shown on my face the next morning. I know I gawped at Remus over my kippers more than normal in front of the other tenants, although I did not intend to stare. His cheeks wore a tinge of pink throughout breakfast. At least he's no longer pale, I thought. If the other boarders hadn't known of our mutual affection before that meal, they certainly did afterward. I wondered if Remus' blush was due, at least in part, to any suspicions the other tenants might have as to where he'd slept the night before.

After breakfast, I apologised profusely, and he told me yet again not to trouble myself. When I asked if we should perhaps take all our meals privately upstairs, he dismissed the idea, saying that would only arouse their suspicions more. I then asked if we should call off the picnic lunch, but he declined, adding there was something important he wanted to show me.

We concluded our morning lessons at half past eleven to pack the picnic basket. Whilst Remus made sandwiches, I wrapped some cheese, added some fruit to the basket, chose a nice bottle of red wine, and packed two glasses. We then headed down the back stairs to the car park, basked in tow, and Remus gave directions as I drove to a secluded spot on the edge of town. He couldn't have picked a nicer place for a picnic. The sun brightly reflected the emerald green of the grass on the rolling hills all around us. We spread a blanket on the ground and unpacked the basket.

"Almost perfect," Remus said, when lunch was set up. "There's only one thing missing."

"What?" I asked.

He looked cautiously in every direction. When he was convinced no one was watching, he pulled his wand. "Florideous rosa." A dozen long-stemmed red roses emerged from the tip of his wand. In one motion, he plucked the flowers and replaced his wand. He then presented the roses to me. "There you are, my love."

I beamed at him and smelt the flowers. Finally I realised what he'd said. "What did you call me?" I asked.

"I think you heard me," he said, smiling. His face turned serious as he caressed my cheek. "I love you, Melinda."

"I love you, Remus."

I touched my lips to his palm, and he drew me to him, kissing me passionately. When we were quite breathless, we decided to stop and have our lunch. After we'd both eaten our fill, he lay on his side on the blanket whilst we worked toward finishing the bottle of wine. As I refilled his glass, I was struck by something.

"You really look at home out here," I said, brushing his hair off his brow.

"What do you mean?" he asked, propping his head on his hand.

"I don't know how to explain it. You're an academic, right? But you look like you belong outdoors. Even though you are always a perfect gentleman, there is something about you that is ... positively wild. Untameable."

He smiled wanly.

I shook my head and added, "I don't know what to make of you half the time."

"And the other half?" he asked, tracing a finger around the rim of his glass.

"I wonder what you see in me," I muttered, my gaze falling to my lap.

"I couldn't have asked for a better segue," he said, before draining his glass. He sat up quickly, laying the wineglass aside, and crossed his legs. "Come sit in front of me."

I also upended and packed away my wineglass. "Are you going to show me that something important now?" I asked, crawling in front of him. I too sat cross-legged, facing him.

"Yes, but it's back there." He pointed behind me, and I turned around. "Do you see that hill in the distance?"

"Which one?"

Placing a hand on each of my cheeks, he turned my head. "That one," he whispered, lips directly on my ear, pointing over my shoulder.

"I see a hill. Why is that important?"

"This is where your incredible concentration comes in."

"I don't understand."

"There's something else there. I want you to concentrate on the top of the hill and tell me if you see any change."

"Are you quite serious?" I asked, turning to look at him over my shoulder.

"Yes," he answered firmly, although he was smiling.

I nodded, still somewhat confused, but determined to do as he asked because I did trust him. "All right."

I'm not sure how long I stared, but what seemed a short time later, the countryside began to blur, and a dark grey shape formed atop the hill.

"I see something," I whispered, surprised.

"What?" Remus asked. By now the grey shape was fully formed.

"A castle," I said.

"I knew you could see it if you tried," he said, sounding satisfied. "That's Hogwarts."

I turned back to face him. "Why wasn't it there before?" I asked.

"The castle's enchanted to keep Muggles away," he replied, wrapping his arms around me. "Most of the charms only muddle one's concentration—makes the castle look like a ruin with warning signs all over it. For some reason, the headmaster thought that alone wouldn't keep you away. I don't know why he should think that, though, since you aren't the least bit stubborn or anything."

I pinched his forearms.

"Ow! Well, anyway, he cast an extra spell to keep you from seeing it at all. Of course, I knew that shouldn't be any problem for you, because of your particular ... gift."

"So, that's where you went to school?" I asked, leaning against him.

"Yes. That's also where I taught Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Oh, you taught there, too! That must have been nice, teaching at your old school."

"I enjoyed it immensely." His tone sounded wistful.

"Why did you leave?"

He took a deep breath and sighed heavily. "That's a long story."

"I have time."

"I fear I don't have the inclination. Not today. I'm not feeling up to such a tale of woe."

"Tell me something nice about teaching there, then," I suggested.

"Now that I feel up to," he said. "Well, my first week of classes—I think I've mentioned Professor Snape before?" he asked.

"Perfectly dreadful man, although he is quite a potion-brewer?"

"That's the one," Remus answered, nodding. "Anyhow, the staff found a boggart in a wardrobe in the staffroom, and I asked the headmaster if I could give my third-years a chance to tackle it—"

"What's a boggart?"

"Oh, I'm sorry! I'd forgotten we put off shape-shifters. A boggart is a formless evil spirit that has the ability to become whatever scares someone the most, and he can only be destroyed with laughter. The trick is to perform the Ridicule Charm to transform the boggart into something less formidable—something that will hopefully make you laugh. Anyhow, this poor chap in the class, Neville Longbottom, was terrified of Professor Snape. When he pointed his wand and said the charm..." Remus began to chuckle.

"What?"

"Well, the boy imagined Snape in his grandmother's clothes ... at my suggestion, I'm afraid."

I smiled. "That does sound funny."

"It was hilarious. Imagine this tall thin man with a large, hooked nose, sallow skin, and greasy black shoulder-length hair ... in a laced-trimmed green dress, a witch's hat adorned with a stuffed vulture, and carrying a large red handbag."

"Oh my!" I said, giggling.

"Neville let out a huge whoop of laughter, and the boggart dissipated."

"Did Professor Snape find out?"

I felt him nod. "He was livid, of course. I maintained that I couldn't influence what frightened Neville. Then I less than politely suggested if he were nicer to his students, perhaps they wouldn't have to dress him in drag to get rid of boggarts."

"What scares you the most?" I asked, innocently.

Remus stiffened. "Why you do ask?"

"I'm just wondering what the boggart would turn into if it came at you."

"Well ... Now, I think it would become you walking out of my life forever."

"Oh, that's so sweet," I said, turning to kiss his cheek. "And that was just your first week, was it?"

"Yes."

"I'm sure you made quite an impression."

"You could say that." He pecked my cheek.

"Tell me some more ... Who was your favourite student?"

"Harry Potter. A very nice boy ... He's an orphan now. Lives with an aunt and uncle, I think. He's the son of two of my friends from school, but he impressed me quite a bit all on his own ... a great student and all around person."

"How did his parents die?"

"That's also a long, sad story."

"All right. Some other time. What other students did you like?"

"Well, there were Harry's friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger..."

He told me all about Harry and his friends then and his year teaching at Hogwarts. Again I had the feeling he wasn't telling me everything. I imagined it had something to do with his leaving—probably being sacked—so I didn't press the issue. The cheerful memories and the fresh air improved both his mood and his appearance so much, I didn't want to depress him or make him ill again by asking him to recount unpleasant experiences.

When the sun started to sink, I glanced at my watch and saw it was well past teatime, and dinner was rapidly approaching. We packed away the picnic basket and returned home, having no time for lessons before we went down to dinner. After dinner, Remus tried to show me some simple charms: the Illumination Charm he'd done the previous night, levitating small objects, and such. His wand sputtered and emitted some red sparks, but none of the charms worked for me. I was discouraged, but Remus told me I shouldn't be.

"A wand is a very personal thing," he said. "Mine doesn't seem to like you very much, although I cannot imagine why, and I certainly disagree."

"Or I'm just a hopeless Muggle," I said, deflating onto the sofa.

"Wouldn't make any difference to me if you were," he said, sitting and putting his arm around me.

"Why not? You have these great powers, and I ... I'm ... nothing."

"That's the woman I love you're talking about!" He pulled me tightly to his side. "Don't say such bad things about her, or I'll have to do something drastic!"

I smiled and laid my head on his shoulder. "Thanks for that."

"Anytime," he said, kissing my forehead. "I'll let you in on a little secret: I love you, not your powers."

"Or lack thereof? You're sweet, but doesn't it bother you? Being ... being with a Muggle?"

"Not in the least. I'm not a bigot."

I laughed at that, and he kissed me.

We did some more work and, when the hour grew late, I said I wanted him to stay. He looked torn, and I thought he'd politely decline. I added since everyone assumed we were sleeping together anyhow, we might as well enjoy the pleasures that gave rise to the gossip. He sighed and caressed my upper arms.

Much to my surprise, he accepted.