Carnival of Dark and Dangerous Creatures

A/N: Thanks and gratitude to SortingHat47 for her suggestions and comments, and for being with me throughout this journey; and for Zarathustra, the fabulous beta, who graciously surrenders her time and talents to make my grammar, punctuation, and Brit-speak look good and read well!

Chapter 2: The Ministry and Moody

Friday, 10 May, 1985--8:49 a.m.

Werewolves were required to notify the Department of Magical Creatures when they were going to leave the Ministry's jurisdiction. Sometimes they had to report to the Werewolf Registry, sometimes to Werewolf Support Services. It varied with every policy change, sometimes even without it. Remus made a point of checking with both offices, just in case. Unfortunately, that also meant double the paperwork, and double the aggravation of having harried Ministry workers question his whole existence, much less the reason for travelling to the continent.

Remus left early on Friday morning for the Ministry, hoping he'd be back before lunch. He had left some reading and some math problems for his students to do, with the promise of charming a doll and several lead soldiers after his return to tempt them to actually do the work. The promise of some sugar quills also served as both reward and bribe.

He fought his anxiety and a hard, driving rain all the way to the Ministry and into the red telephone booth that served as the entrance. He kept his hands in the pockets of the long black coat he wore, one hand clutching his wand until his knuckles were white, the other hand clenched in a fist. He surrendered his wand to security readily enough, but he had never felt so defenceless. Surely, though, he could come to no harm here in the halls of the Ministry. Weren't there too many people who could provide evidence that he hadn't done anything, should Carmichael or Macnair come after him? Constant vigilance was making him paranoid, he thought with a snort.

No one was yet in the office of the Werewolf Registry when he arrived, so he wound his way through the hallways to Werewolf Services. A woman he had only seen one other time was there, just removing her cloak. She looked up, startled at his entrance.

"Can I help you?" Well, at least time she didn't flinch at the sight of the red W on his visitor's tag.

Remus leaned on the counter and gave her his friendliest smile. "I wanted to fill out the forms for leaving the country."

"Oh." She looked around her, a frazzled expression crossing her features. She carefully hung her cloak on a peg on the wall, and turned to look at him. "Are you sure you do that here? I think you do that over at Registry."

Remus shrugged. "I thought I'd do it both places. Saves a lot of hassle."

She looked at him as if he'd sprouted a horn in the middle of his forehead. "I don't even know if we have the forms."

He pointed to a tall cabinet in the corner of the office. "They were there, on the second shelf, the last time I did this."

"Oh." It took her several minutes, but finally she came over to the desk with three different forms. "Let's see... your name?"

He told her, and then gave her his Registry number without being asked, as well as his current address on St. James Street. Her quill hovered over the next section.

Remus said, "Owner of the property is Pindar Alatza, and his wife, Eleni. Two children live in the house, ages six and nine. Mr Alatza is aware of my lycanthropy. He has kindly provided a shed out at his country estate for my transformations that exceeds the distance from the house recommended by the Registry, and he casts the wards three hours before..." He stopped, aware that she had stopped writing and was staring at him. "Is there a problem?" he asked slowly.

"You know these forms better than I do."

Remus was silent. Inwardly, the wolf snarled at her stupidity. Outwardly, he betrayed no emotion. "When you've been through this as many times as I have, you get used to it," he finally said. He pointed to the next section on the form, directing her attention to it. "I will be travelling to Greece with Mr Alatza, his wife, and their two children." He paused while she scribbled in the information. "We will be gone from May fourteenth to June fourteenth. During that time, there will be one full moon, for which I will return with Mr Alatza..."

"Have you made secondary arrangements?" she interrupted.

Remus blinked. "Secondary arrangements?"

"Yes. In the case that your employer's shed is not available, or you cannot return to England, have you made arrangements with anyone in Greece?"

Remus straightened. "I've never had to do that before."

She motioned to a line on the form. "According to some addition to Article three, Section one, Subsection c, of the Werewolf Code of Conduct, you must have another plan in place before you travel. Or at least, that's what it says here." She turned the paper around so he could read it easier.

"Well, that's new," Remus commented under his breath.

"So, my guess is that you haven't made secondary arrangements."

"No, I haven't."

"Well." She reached under the counter, and struggled a bit to place a thick, over-sized book on the counter. "Let's look up Article three and see what it says."

The door behind Remus suddenly opened and another woman's voice exclaimed, "Can you believe that Simmons?" The door slammed shut. "Honestly, Margie, have you ever stood next to him in the lift? Good Lord, I swear he grows an extra set of hands."

"Jane," the girl behind the counter said loudly over the volume of the other woman's complaints. "What do you know about Article three, Section one?"

Remus watched the new arrival bustle between the desks, pausing just long enough to throw her cloak on a chair. He had seen her before, but over at the Registry office. She was one of the few people who seemed to have a sense of humour, and Remus always enjoyed seeing her. "Article three? Which part?" She suddenly took notice of the werewolf standing at the counter. "Oh, it's you." She came up to the counter and looked at the papers laying there. "Going on holiday, are you? Where are you going?"

"Greece, if you can make Article three, Section one, Subsection c disappear." Remus again leaned on the counter and gave her a lopsided smile.

She grinned back at him. "Let's see what we can do." She glanced over the form. "Mr Alatza has agreed to these arrangements for the full moon?"

Remus nodded.

"Well..." she hesitated. She glanced at Margie, who shrugged. "Is there anyone else, Mr Lupin, who could vouch for you? A Ministry employee, perhaps?"

He chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. "Alastor Moody might." As long as he didn't mind being put in the middle of a werewolf/Ministry dust-up.

"Well, there you go, then," Jane said, grabbing a blank piece of parchment. Within minutes, she had composed a letter to the Auror asking for him to either come to the office or for confirmation that he'd vouch for one Remus Lupin, werewolf. She scribbled: "Alastor Moody, Level 2, Auror Headquarters" on the outside, whispered a charm, and watched it form itself into an airplane form and take flight. It flew past Remus' ear and headed for the closed door, where it banged into the glass repeatedly.

"If you'd please open the door, Mr Lupin?" Jane asked.

"Oh, right." Remus did as she asked, and the memo flew down the hallway.

"You might as well sit down until we get a response of some sort," Margie advised him. "You can sit in that chair behind you."

It was a typical wooden office chair: scarred from years of use and quite uncomfortable. Remus folded his arms across his chest and leaned his head back against the wall, wiggling a bit to find a less painful way of sitting. After a few minutes, he gave up the fight as impossible.

"Says here you're due in on the twenty-second for your annual," Jane suddenly said, referring to a chart on the wall.

"Yes."

"Are you planning on coming back for that appointment?" the woman asked. "Or are you wanting to reschedule that?"

Remus felt the muscles in his neck tighten. Should he? She had offered... "Would it be possible to reschedule?" he asked tentatively.

She shrugged. "I don't see why not. I can reschedule it here, and then you can pop into Registry and let them know."

Before he could say anything, the door opened and a shabbily dressed older man tottered in. "'Ey lasses, I've got me a problem, and they're sayin' it's your problem..."

As Margie and Jane converged on the other werewolf, Remus took the moment to consider the offer to reschedule the appointment. She hadn't seemed to think it was problem, but Moody had been adamantly set against him rescheduling. Did Moody know something he didn't? If Carmichael weren't in London, would Moody's advice be different? He absentmindedly rubbed his neck.

The door opened again and a man in Ministry robes came in. The two women greeted him coolly and he laughed. "You don't seem happy to see me, ladies."

"I thought you were with Goblin Relations, Hennessey," Jane said, her tone acidic.

"I was, but apparently they felt I could -- help -- more over here." The man's sneering glance swept over Remus, making the werewolf stifle a snarl of challenge in response. "I hear it's like a zoo down here."

Oh, good, thought the werewolf, envisioning some sort of Ministry advertisement: "Do you have a patronizing attitude? Do you have a superiority complex? Do you believe anyone not fully human to be Dark, and not fit to be treated with respect or dignity? Well, then, do we have a job for you in Werewolf Support Services! Stupidity not necessary, but will be considered an asset."

He tried to stifle a snort of disdain-filled laughter, but didn't quite succeed. The former bane of Goblins turned quickly to glare at him. "Is something funny, wolf?"

Remus threw his hands up in a quick gesture of submission. "No, nothing. Just got something stuck in my throat, is all."

The man's eyes narrowed. "Why are you here?"

There were many things that Remus knew he could say, several more he should say, and there was always the option of saying nothing. He had just made up his mind to say something like this was Werewolf Support Services, he was a werewolf, therefore, it followed that he needed supported (at which point he would ask if the man were going to do the servicing) when Alastor Moody shoved the door open. He had the memo in his hand.

"What are you up to now, Lupin?" His good eye glittered, though he spoke in his usual gruff manner.

Remus pasted the most innocent look he could on his face. "Me? Up to something?" He grinned, well, wolfishly.

Hennessey's hand suddenly lashed out and gripped Remus' arm. "Causing trouble, are you?"

Remus jerked his arm out of the man's grip. "No!" he exclaimed, startled at the man's reaction.

"Got the Aurors here, don't you?" Again the man reached for the werewolf.

Remus snarled, "Don't touch me!"

"Don't you --"

Moody wedged himself between the two men and shoved Remus, hard, back in the chair. It wasn't until then that the younger man realized that he had risen to his feet. The back of his head thumped painfully off the wall and he raised his hand to rub the sore spot. Hennessey saw the motion and, yelling something indecipherable, shoved Moody aside. His wand came up but Remus threw himself on the floor just as the beam of light flashed overhead. Pieces of plaster from the wall flew everywhere. Margie squealed in panic and the older werewolf dropped onto the floor in a heap, wrapping his arms over his head

"Hennessey, stow it!" the Auror shouted.

"He was going to --"

Remus shot to his feet. "I didn't --"

The Ministry worker pointed his wand at Remus again.

Moody shoved his arm down. "I said stow it! He hasn't done anything wrong! He doesn't even have his bloody wand with him!"

"Why are you here then?" the man yelled back.

The Auror glanced back at Remus, then slowly turned back to face the Ministry worker. "He's a friend of mine, and needed someone to vouch for him."

"You asked him what he was up to. I thought you --"

"You thought wrong. If he was causing trouble, I'd have brought the Capture Unit up with me, don't you think?" Moody then began lecturing the younger man about being vigilant and making incorrect assumptions.

In the meantime, Remus stayed frozen, but not just because he was afraid to make a move that would be misinterpreted by Hennessey. Had Moody just referred to him as a 'friend'? He didn't seriously consider Remus a friend, did he? Comrades in arms? Perhaps. Certainly something more than acquaintances; but... a friend? Well, bloody hell, what other words would fit? "Two allies, one of which wasn't afraid of the other (even if one was a werewolf) who both survived a war when everyone else around them had either fallen or had been imprisoned" was a bit of a mouthful.

Moody had turned to face him. "Now. About this memo..." He held up the bit of parchment.

Jane stepped closer to them, picking up the forms that Margie had started to fill out. She and Moody began to look over them while Remus brushed the white dust from the blasted plaster off of his robes. He stayed where he was, however. It seemed a bit safer there, especially with Hennessey glaring from where he had retreated behind a desk at the other end of the office.

"You're still determined to do this?" Moody asked him, peering over his shoulder at Remus.

The werewolf shrugged. "Mr Alatza wants his children tutored while they're in Greece."

Alastor stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. "You know they can refuse to let you back in to the country."

"I realize that." There wasn't anything to hold him in England anyhow, and they both knew it.

"They can refuse to let you back for the full moon."

Remus sighed. "Then I will check with the Greek Ministry of Magic about what I should do. I doubt this Ministry will refuse to let me back, though. If I don't have anyplace to transform, and I frighten (terrify, his mind supplied) someone there, or hurt (kill) someone there, the Greek authorities will blame the Ministry for not keeping closer track of me. That could touch off some horrible -- what do they call it? -- international incident."

Moody nodded. "True enough. Well, Jane, what do you say now?"

"I'll say he's cleared to go, BUT," she paused so she could scribble her signature on a line at the bottom of one of the pages, "you had better check in with the Greek authorities right after you get there. Just in case."

"So I really haven't gotten around Article three, Section one, Provision c after all, have I?"

"Actually, you have a bit." Jane motioned for him to come closer. "See, this part should be signed or you should have a letter from whomever you've made your secondary arrangements with. We'll just have Mr Moody sign it here instead, and it's all peaches and cream."

Remus couldn't help but raise his eyebrows a bit at her choice of phrase. Somehow, he would never consider anything as 'peaches and cream' when dealing with the Ministry; any part of it.

"Anything else, lass?" Moody asked, his magical eye focused on Hennessey, who was still sulking behind the desk.

"No, I think that will be all. The rest of these," she scanned down through the other forms, "are for Mr Lupin to finish."

Moody nodded and turned to Remus. "Let me have a word with you before I go."

They went out into the hall, Moody pulling the door firmly but quietly behind him. "I still don't like you going."

"What's wrong with going? I've been out of the country before and never had any trouble."

"In case you haven't noticed, what with Hennessey and all, things are changing again."

"They're always changing," Remus muttered darkly. "And never for the better."

"Exactly. There's talk about more reforms--"

"What's left to reform? Am I going to fill out forms every time I piss? Or get pissed?"

"Don't be flip, lad. There's always someone who has got it in for your kind, and right now, they're talking about tattooing you with some kind of traceable ink. To make it easier for the Capture Unit." Moody reached out and poked Remus on the shoulder. "There's also talk about making it illegal for werewolves to work with children under the age of ten."

Remus inhaled sharply. "How close is that to being passed?"

Moody's gaze was piercing. "Still talk, but closer than you'd like, I'm guessing. You really need to keep your nose clean, Lupin. Don't give them any chance to think you're as Dark as they believe you to be. They're looking for a reason to grab you up."

"I'm not the only werewolf in the British Isles," Remus pointed out.

"No, but you're one of the ones they're watching."

Dread and fear shot through him, leaving him cold. "What have I done to deserve that?" he asked as lightly as he could.

"Got through Hogwarts, first of all. They call you Dumbledore's pet werewolf, you know."

Remus swallowed hard. "No, I didn't."

"There are some here that have heard rumours about what you were doing in the war. Some still aren't sure which side you were on."

"But they'll let Macnair have a job in the Ministry, even though he was a Death Eater." Remus couldn't help the bitterness that seeped into his words.

"A suspected Death Eater. There's a difference."

"Oh, yes. They suspect him. They know so much more about me."

"Look, I'm not saying any of this is right. You did more for the Order and to frustrate Voldemort's plans than many. They aren't aware of all you've done, though. You need to be vigilant --"

"Constantly," Remus interrupted before he could stop himself, fidgeting with a thread hanging from the sleeve of his robe. He continued on before Moody could chastise him for not taking this seriously, "Is there any word about why Carmichael is in the area?"

"There are rumours that he's been hired to track down a werewolf who attacked someone in Bristol." The Auror hesitated for a moment before adding quietly, "I've also heard that you might be right in what you wrote yesterday."

He watched what little colour was in Lupin's face drain. "He's going to be here for the annuals?"

Moody eyed the younger man closely, suddenly realizing how shaken he was. "I've heard it's a possibility."

Remus' lips moved and his head jerked as if he had just spat an extremely vicious curse. "What's their reasoning?"

"A werewolf attacked someone."

Remus rubbed the back of his neck, realizing that the knot there wasn't going to go away anytime soon. "If they know who it was, then why don't they just go find him?"

"They really don't know who it was."

"So how will they know who they're looking for?" In the back of his mind, Remus was remembering what he had been thinking yesterday: that accusation and condemnation was sometimes based on the creativity of the hunter. And as soon as that thought shot through his head, he realized that he had just put himself at the front of some imaginary list somewhere, by antagonizing Hennessey.

"That was one of the things I've heard."

"What else have you heard?"

"Not much more."

Remus' eyes narrowed. "But there is more."

Alastor shrugged. "All conjecture."

Shit. A lot more.

"Look, lad, I'd love to stay here and talk to you some more about this, but I have to head over to talk to a man who's being accused of cursing his neighbour. If I hear anything else that I think you should worry about, I'll owl you."

Wasn't all that enough to worry me?

All the same, he thanked Moody, shook his hand, and then reached for the doorknob of the Services office.

"Lupin." Moody seemed strangely reticent all of a sudden. "If you have any trouble at all, either getting back into the country, or leaving it, you let me know. And as far as the annuals, like I said, I'll make a point of stopping in to see you."

"You don't have to do this," Remus said, very quietly. "Sticking your neck out for a werewolf is not going to go down well with your colleagues."

"Huh, bugger them all," Moody said with a snort. "You let me know if you need me."

There was little Remus could do or say, other than, "Right."

6:15 p.m.

Mr Alatza listened to what his young tutor had to say, but sat there unmoving and silent for several moments, staring at him. There had been several moments similar to this before, though, and Remus knew how to handle them.

"So, there is no way to reschedule this appointment on the twenty-second?" Mr Alatza asked.

"No, sir, there isn't." Show no uncertainty. Be firm.

"And the full moon is -- when is it again?"

"The third of June, sir."

Alatza stood and went to the window. "Honestly, Lupin, I wonder sometimes if you're worth the trouble."

Gods, he'd heard that nearly every month for the past six months. "I know, sir." He'd be damned before he'd apologize for it, though.

"Now, now, don't get your back up. You've done wonders for Dominic's reading, and for Isabelle's temper." He jiggled some coins in his robe pocket and then stepped away from the window and back behind his desk. "Damned Ministry. Always poking their noses into places they don't need to be poking."

Remus smiled. The Alatzas had earned their considerable fortune in dealing with imported magical toys, and there had been many times they'd had to deal with one Ministry department or another. Very few of those occasions were happy ones for the Alatzas.

The older man flipped through an appointment book, stopping to consider a few pages carefully. "With some well-planned Apparition and Floo transport, you should be able to leave Tuesday evening to make your appointment."

"Yes, sir, and I should, hopefully, be able to be back by Thursday morning."

Alatza sat down, leaned back in his leather chair and looked at Remus over his steepled fingers. "What is this appointment for, if you don't mind me asking?"

When someone hired you knowing you were a werewolf, paid you well, and allowed you to stay in the same house as his young children, there were few things you should mind him asking, Remus had found. So, he answered the question that he might have shrugged off with anyone else. "It's an annual procedure in the Ministry. All werewolves -- well, the registered ones -- are required to come to the Ministry and submit to an interview and physical examination. They usually do them in May or June."

"What do they accomplish by this?"

"It helps them keep track of -- us. They ask where we've been for the past year, record new scars." Remus shoved his fists deep into his robes so that Pindar couldn't see them. He couldn't help the sarcasm that tinged his words. "Of course, it also gives them the opportunity to make us submissive and all, to prove we have to do whatever the Ministry demands of us."

"Why would they record new scars?" Remus had to remind himself that Alatza wasn't asking to be nosy, necessarily. He honestly wanted to know. He had a werewolf in the house; it was his right to know.

"So that if a homeless werewolf dies on the street, or is killed by a werewolf hunter, they'll be able to tell who it is."

The merchant shook his head slowly and leaned his elbows on the desk. "You've got one hell of a bloody life, Lupin."

"I'm luckier than most," Remus said, figuring a little sucking up wouldn't go remiss.

"Hmm." Somewhere in the house, a bell rang. Alatza stood up and clapped his hands, smiling. "Well, then, that's settled. Let's go down for dinner."

Tuesday, 14 May-Monday, 27 May

Remus' parents had taken their son to Greece not long after he had been bitten by Fenrir Greyback. They had heard rumours of a wizard who had been working on a cure for lycanthropy and took the chance. It, as well as hundreds of other leads, had been nothing but a pipe dream. Still, wherever they went, the Lupins had taken the opportunity to show their young son as much as they could about the culture, the architecture, and the wonders of the world. Greece was much as he remembered it, a place of warmth, friendly people, and magic. He found himself enjoying it even more because he was able to introduce new things to his two young pupils.

The Alatzas, being of Greek descent, had many Greek relatives, and they welcomed Remus into their home with as much enthusiasm as they did Dominic and Isabelle. Remus wasn't sure if Pindar Alatza had told them of Remus' condition, and wasn't going to ask. Especially when Pindar's niece, Alesia Alatza, kept casting glances at him beneath long, black eyelashes.

Within a week, Alesia made herself available as a sort of tour guide, and she and Remus would sit at night with a glass of retsina and discuss where to go the following day. Pindar said nothing to Remus about it, but, the werewolf could feel his employer's eyes upon him. He made a point not to touch Alesia or to laugh too loudly at her jests in any place where they could be seen by the family. He couldn't help it if Alesia slipped into his room at night and made him feel even more welcome; he wasn't about to refuse her hospitality.

The children didn't seem to notice if he and Alesia interlaced their fingers as they climbed over ruins and clambered over hillsides. They didn't seem to care if Alesia's eyes smouldered as she watched Remus. They merely seemed pleased that Remus was so conscientious of their cousin. They smiled when he threw his jacket over the smoothest rock for her to sit upon, guided her with sure hands through tunnels and doorways, or handed her the occasional flower that he had picked from beside the road.

Alesia was not pleased that he had to return to London.

"Stay," she pleaded the Monday before he left, as they lay in his bed, entangled in sweat- and sex-drenched sheets.

"I'll be back Thursday," he told her. "It's only for one full day."

"And two glorious nights," she grumbled at him, stroking his scarred chest with slender fingers.

He rolled over onto her and pressed his lips against hers fiercely. "Then let's make the most of this night."