The Talisman of Monguk

Chapter 4: Hints and Revelations

August was a busy month for the Order of the Phoenix. In the first week, they were sent to escort Harry from his Uncle's home on Privet Drive to the Weasley's, where he would remain for the rest of the summer. To safeguard Harry, they also set up watches around the Burrow, the Weasley's home.

Moody's instincts about Gringotts Wizarding Bank turned out to be correct. The Order's patrols frequently spotted known Death Eaters loitering in the vicinity of the bank. Fortunately, there were no confrontations. The Death Eaters seemed to be scouting for something and were not there to attack. From this behavior, the Order suspected that its enemies had not found the map yet either.

In their own search for the map, the members of the Order got their first lucky break in late August. Prudence Crutch, a mousy-haired witch with thick glasses who worked as librarian for the National Wizarding Archives, had stumbled across a passage in an out-of-print edition of The Complete History of Goblins, Volume 3. That passage named a particular goblin family as keeper of the map. Members of the Order then traced the ancestry of this keeper down the generations. There were only six descendents of this family still living. Now they needed to identify which of these six was the current keeper. This was the main topic of discussion at their meeting on the twenty-sixth of August. Several members were assigned the task of finding out all they could about these six goblins in hopes of identifying the most likely candidate.

As the meeting ended, Severus Snape looked for an opportunity to speak with Angela privately. He found his opportunity as she was preparing to leave.

"Ah, Miss Hawkins...Angela...May I have a word with you?" said Snape.

"Yes, of course, what can I do for you?" she replied.

"Did I hear correctly that you are taking Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons from Lupin?" he asked scornfully.

"Yes, that's correct," she replied.

"Do you really think that is wise? Surely, you could find a more competent teacher," he continued, putting just the slightest stress on the word.

"I'm quite satisfied with his instruction so far," she said matter-of-factly.

He smiled indulgently. "But, my dear, perhaps you aren't as experienced with these things as I am. I am very knowledgeable about this subject and I have worked alongside Lupin. I hesitate to say it, but I have certain reservations concerning his ability."

"Really?" said Angela curtly. "Well, I don't."

"Please, bear with me for a moment," he said, attempting to placate her. "For instance, have you covered werewolves in your lessons yet?"

Angela was taken aback. "These are dueling lessons. I really don't see what werewolves have to do with it. Do you really think that I'm going to be dueling with a werewolf?"

The most peculiar look flashed across Snape's face. It was as if she'd said the very thing that he had hoped.

"Just think about what I've said. That's all I'm asking," he concluded with a triumphant smile.

After he'd left, Angela stood there dumbfounded for several minutes. What could he have meant? Just what was he insinuating? As she puzzled over her conversation with Snape, Lupin approached her.

"Hey, Angela, several of the members stay after the meeting for dinner. Would you like to join us?" he asked.

"Sure, I'd love to," she replied. "Who else is staying?"

"Just the Weasleys, Mad-Eye, Tonks, and Harry."

"Harry Potter is here?" she asked looking around.

"He's upstairs with Ron and Ginny Weasley," Lupin replied. "Underage wizards aren't allowed to attend the meetings."

The Weasleys had a large family of seven children. From oldest to youngest, they were Bill, Charlie, Percy, twins Fred and George, Ron, and Ginny. Of the five oldest children, only Percy was not a member of the Order. He worked for the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, and doted on his mentor. As Fudge was jealous and distrustful of Dumbledore, Percy adopted his boss' views. On the other hand, Ron and Ginny would have loved to join the Order, but were too young. Ron Weasley was Harry Potter's best friend. Bill, who worked for Gringotts Wizarding Bank, had a date that night. When asked, he was evasive about the details. Angela overheard Fred and George speculating that he might have finally landed a date with Fleur Delacour. From what she gathered, Miss Delacour must be quite a pretty girl! Charlie, who worked with dragons in Romania, rarely made it to the meetings. Fred and George had attended the meeting, but had to leave to receive a shipment of supplies for their joke shop. Thus, the only Weasleys staying tonight were Arthur, Molly, Ron and Ginny.

"Molly, I've asked Angela to stay for dinner too," said Lupin.

"That's fine. We'll have plenty," Molly replied pleasantly.

"Can I help you?" Angela offered.

"She's quite a good cook," said Lupin with a smile.

Molly looked very pleased. "Certainly, dear. I would love some help."

The two women walked off together, discussing the dinner menu. They decided that Angela would prepare the desserts, while Molly worked on the main course. They busied themselves in the kitchen, stopping to admire each other's cooking or to discuss recipes. By the time dinner was on the table, they were fast friends.

Soon all nine of them were gathered around the table. The tantalizing aroma of Molly's beef stew made their mouths water. Once everyone was served, the only sounds that could be heard were the clanking of silverware on plates and the clinking of goblets.

As their hunger abated, the conversation began. Being naturally curious, Ron, Harry and Ginny wanted to know all the details of the Order's business. They took every opportunity to steer the conversation in that direction, hoping to extract any information they could out of the others. However, as Molly Weasley was equally determined to keep it from them, she kept changing the subject. Eventually, they gave up and started discussing the upcoming year at Hogwarts instead. The school year would start in just six days.

"I wonder who Professor Dumbledore will get to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts this year?" asked Ron between mouthfuls of stew.

"Whoever it is, they certainly can't be any worse than that Umbridge woman," replied Harry with loathing.

"She was evil," Ginny agreed.

As Angela often had to deal with Dolores Umbridge at work, she knew exactly what they meant. Umbridge could be cruel. Her views on wizard superiority were well known in the department. As Senior Undersecretary to Minister Fudge, she took every opportunity to pass legislation designed to keep non-wizard races in what she felt was their proper place. Angela couldn't help noticing that Lupin's usually placid expression changed abruptly at the mention of Umbridge's name. But whatever he was thinking, he kept it to himself.

"I know who your new Dark Arts professor will be," Angela teased.

"Who?" Harry asked.

"My cousin, Ravena Hawkins," Angela replied. "My mother told me just the other day."

"What's she like?" asked Ginny.

"Well, she's my age. She's very pretty. And she's quite accomplished at Dark Magic defenses. She was educated abroad. In fact, I haven't seen her for several years, because she's been working overseas. She only just returned to the country a couple of days ago."

"Where did she go to school?" asked Harry.

"She studied at Durmstrang," Angela replied.

At the mention of Durmstrang, Ron stopped eating and frowned with displeasure. Seeing his expression, Angela chuckled and added, "Give her a chance, Ron. I'm willing to bet that you'll change your mind."

At this point, the conversation was interrupted by the arrival of dessert. Molly brought out a large tray of apple cobbler and a treacle tart that Angela had made. Amid exclamations of delight, they polished off every bit.

After dinner was finished, Molly and Lupin stayed down in the kitchen to clean up, while the rest of the group retired to the drawing room upstairs. Harry and Ron sat down to a game of wizard chess. Tonks, who was a Metamorphmagus and could change her features at will, was entertaining Ginny. She screwed up her face and changed her hair from shocking pink to electric green. Then she changed her nose to a pig's snout. Ginny giggled and started requesting specific changes. Moody approached Angela carrying a large black book with pages sticking out haphazardly.

"Angela, I thought you might be interested in this. I've put together a scrapbook for the Order, newspaper clippings and such. I've got pictures of most of the Death Eaters in it. Thought you might like to take a look," he said.

"Thanks," she replied. "It would be useful to know in advance what these Dark wizards look like."

Moody handed the scrapbook to Angela and sat down nearby to converse with Arthur. Angela began paging through it. It was full of clippings from the Daily Prophet. She stopped on an article that appeared in last February's Prophet about a mass breakout from Azkaban. It featured black and white photographs of the ten Death Eaters who had escaped. She studied each photo in turn - Antonin Dolohov, Augustus Rookwood, ... Her eyes stopped on the last picture. It was of a witch, Bellatrix Lestrange. Angela was riveted. Staring back at her was a woman with long black hair and cruel heavily lidded eyes, wearing an imperious expression on her face. Angela shuddered and closed the scrapbook with a snap.

A small photograph fell from the pages onto the carpet. Angela picked it up and looked at it. It was an old picture of a group of witches and wizards. They were moving about in the photograph, smiling and waving back at her. Angela looked more closely and recognized a few of them. There was a much younger Mad-Eye Moody, a young man with a striking resemblance to Harry Potter, and, to her delight, a younger Remus Lupin. The Lupin in the picture was better dressed and in better health, but still had the same familiar smile. She smiled back and slipped the photograph between the pages of the scrapbook.

Arthur and Mad-Eye were engaged in a whispered conversation about the map. Angela listened in.

"If the goblins had the map all along, why haven't they gone to find the talisman themselves?" asked Arthur.

"Most likely they've forgotten about it," Moody conjectured.

"But if we go asking for the map, won't they remember?"

"Maybe. But it really doesn't matter if they get it themselves and long as You-Know-Who doesn't get his hands on it," Moody replied darkly.

The arrival of Molly and Lupin interrupted their discussion. Molly sat down with Arthur and Moody. Lupin pulled Angela aside.

"Angela, I forgot to tell you that I won't be able to make our lesson on Saturday," Lupin said apologetically.

"I suppose now you're going to give me homework," Angela teased.

"As a matter of fact, yes," he said with a grin. "We're going to be practicing Patronus Charms in our next lesson, so I'd like you to read the chapters on them. Then write an essay on dementors and the Patronus Charm."

"All right," she said. "I'd better write that down."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

As it was almost closing time on a Friday evening, the Public Wizarding Library was nearly empty. Huge bulging bookshelves lined the floor of the library, filled to the top with old dusty leather-bound volumes. In places, the books were stacked haphazardly in gravity-defying piles that reached to the ceiling. To the right was a special section devoted entirely to parchments. It looked like a giant honeycomb that reached from floor to ceiling, each cell stuffed with scrolls. Scattered around the library among the stacks were carrels, where one could sit and study undisturbed.

Angela sat at a carrel near the window, working on her lesson for Lupin. The textbook and her planner lay open on the desk in front of her beside a quill and a blank parchment.

She must have read the passage about the Patronus Charm six times, but absorbed none of it. Her thoughts kept straying to Snape's warning. What did werewolves have to do with dueling and Lupin?

She paused and gazed out the window at the moon, glowing brightly in the night sky and bathing her table in its light. It was full and perfectly round tonight. Her mind wandered again.

Lupin, now he was a pleasant thought. Tomorrow would have been their dueling lesson. She wondered why he had cancelled it. She looked up at the moon, not seeing it at all this time. Instead, she saw Lupin's eyes, his smile, and the contour of his brow. She smiled to herself wistfully.

Her thoughts drifted back to her conversation with Snape - werewolves, full moon, Lupin. She startled. Her eyes widened. With alarm, she flipped back in her planner to July. Her mouth dropped open, when she saw that Lupin had cancelled their lesson on the last full moon too. Could it be true? Was Remus Lupin a werewolf?

Instead of doing her homework, Angela spent the rest of her weekend, researching werewolves. She looked up everything that she could find on the topic. She read about the differences between regular wolves and werewolves, how to tell if a person is a werewolf, modern treatments for living with the disorder, and so on. By Sunday evening, she was exhausted and far better informed, but no nearer to resolving her feelings.

Among the wizard community, werewolves were considered untrustworthy and dangerous, but the man she knew was kind and gentle. He was a respected member of the Order and Professor Dumbledore clearly trusted him. Besides, she reasoned, if he had wanted to harm her, he'd had ample opportunity. She had been taking dueling lessons from him for the past month and a half. Perhaps Snape was mistaken in him. Finally, she resolved to talk to her friend, Arthur Weasley.

The next day, Angela went to Arthur's office. Luckily, Arthur's partner was away from his desk and he was alone.

"What can I do for you, Angela?" Arthur said.

"Well...How well do you know Remus Lupin?" she asked timidly.

Arthur answered, "Pretty well, I guess. We've been in the Order together for over a year. Molly knows him better than I do."

"What sort of man is he?" she asked.

Arthur looked at her in surprise and seemed uncomfortable. "Well...um...what do you mean?" he stuttered.

"I mean, his character... Is he a good man?" she clarified.

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief and grinned. "Oh, Remus is a very good man. And Molly thinks the world of him."

"That's what I thought too," Angela said, feeling much better.

"Why do you ask?"

"It's just something someone said," she answered. "I just needed another opinion. Thanks, Arthur. You've helped a lot."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Angela barely had time to finish her homework before her next lesson. When she arrived at Grimmauld Place, she noticed that Lupin didn't look well.

"Are you feeling all right?" she asked as he met her at the door. "You look a little peaked."

"I'm fine, but I was going to ask you the same thing," Lupin replied, noting the circles under Angela's eyes.

"I had a very busy week. Lots of deadlines at work," she answered.

"Maybe we'll skip the sparring today," he said, ushering her into the drawing room.

"Oh, I almost forgot," said Angela. She stopped, took out her homework, and handed it to him.

As before, Lupin looked it over quickly and tucked it in his back pocket. "Good," he said. "Shall we begin?"

Angela nodded.

"Since there's a chance that we might encounter a dementor on patrol, I thought that you should know how to handle one. First, describe for me what a dementor does," he prompted.

"They rob you of all your happy memories, leaving you with only your worst ones," Angela answered.

"Correct," Lupin replied. "You want to keep the dementors at a distance. Why?"

"If left in their presence long enough, you fall in a despair so deep that most people go mad." Then she added with a shudder, "And they could perform the 'Kiss' on you."

"And what's that?" Lupin asked grimly.

"When a dementor kisses you, it sucks your soul out of your body, leaving you an empty shell. It's a fate worse than death itself." Angela shivered at the thought.

"I see you've done your homework," Lupin replied, obviously pleased.

He continued, "Now, as you know, the only defense against a dementor is a Patronus Charm. If performed correctly, it will create a guardian that will shield you from the dementor. The incantation you use is 'Expecto patronum.'"

"Expecto patronum," repeated Angela.

"Good," Lupin said. "That's the easy part, though. The hard part is that you have to focus your thoughts on a single happy memory, preferably the happiest memory that you have. Here, I'll demonstrate. Expecto patronum." He waved his wand and a silvery wolf emerged from it, circled the room, and disappeared. "Now you try," he encouraged.

Angela thought of Christmas and uttered "Expecto patronum." A single wisp of something came from her wand and evaporated into thin air.

"Think of something happier. Be more specific," Lupin prompted.

She thought of the last Christmas before her Dad died. Her family was gathered together, singing carols around the piano. She could hear her father's sonorous baritone voice. "Expecto patronum." This time a shapeless silvery cloud issued from her wand tip and floated in front of her.

"Excellent," Lupin praised. "Try again. Find an even happier memory."

She thought of the same Christmas. This time, her father and mother were in each other's arms. Her father was singing a love song to her mother. She could see the rapturous expression on her mother's face. "Expecto patronum." A silvery substance erupted from her wand. It took the shape of a hawk and flew in circles around the room.

"Very well done," replied Lupin.

Angela grinned.

"Now, it's one thing to perform the charm in a well-lit room, but quite a bit more difficult when confronted with a dementor. I don't have a real dementor to practice on. Now, let me think. What can we use?" He thought for a minute or two and then said, "Aha! I don't think Sirius would mind."

He led Angela out of the room into the hallway. He stopped in front of the covered portrait of Mrs. Black. He positioned Angela in front of the portrait. Then he waved his wand and dimmed the lights.

"Are you ready?" he whispered. Angela nodded, looking very unsure. "On the count of three. One...Two...Three."

Lupin pulled back the curtain. The old hag in the portrait began to screech, her eyes bulging out and spit dribbling down her chin. In the dimly lit hall, it was more than Angela could take. She recoiled against the opposite wall.

"Expecto patronum," she mumbled feebly. Nothing happened. She tried to focus her mind. "Expecto patronum," she repeated with more confidence. She managed to produce a wisp.

"FILTH! DIRT! DISEASE! HALF-BREEDS! CHILDREN OF FILTH! HOW DARE YOU BESMERCH MY HOUSE. GET AWAY FROM ME!" the old woman screeched.

Angela concentrated with all her might on that Christmas memory and shouted, "EXPECTO PATRONUM." A cloud of silver escaped from her wand, but not the hawk.

"I need a happier memory," she thought with desperation. Suddenly, one occurred to her. "HA! EXPECTO PATRONUM," she whooped. She was actually laughing.

The silvery hawk flew from her wand directly at the old hag and flapped its wings in her face. The old woman screamed and retreated back into the portrait. Lupin yanked the curtains back over the picture. He was shaking with mirth. Then he motioned for Angela to follow him down to the kitchen.

"That was very impressive," he said with a wide grin. "That must have been some memory!"

"I'll tell you about it, if you tell me about your best memory first," she said shyly.

"Maybe later," Lupin said, suddenly more serious. "Let's have dinner first."

Tonight's menu was roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, string beans, and apple pie. Angela put Lupin to work snapping the beans, while she peeled the potatoes. Within a short time, they sat down to dinner. During the meal, Lupin became increasingly introspective. A frown line appeared on his forehead.

Seeing his countenance, she asked, "Is everything all right?"

He ran his hand through his hair and looked down at his plate, searching for the words. "I have something to tell you...about myself," he began haltingly. "I know I should have told you earlier, but..." He broke off and then continued full of self-reproach, "There's really no excuse. You have every right to know...who I am...what I am." He paused, took a deep breath, and plunged on. "I'm a werewolf." He said the last words quietly, hoping to soften the blow. Then he looked at Angela, holding his breath, bracing for her reaction.

She studied his face. The sadness in his eyes that she had seen on their first encounter lingered there now. She was moved with pity. "I know," she answered gently. "I've suspected for more than a week."

"How?" he asked. His face registered a look of wonder and disbelief.

"Something Severus said to me at the last meeting and the lunar calendar in my planner. You always cancelled our lessons on the full moon," she answered quietly.

"Severus! I should have known." His eyes flashed briefly, then softened again with a look of resignation. "You would have found out sooner or later anyway. I just wish that it had been from me." He paused and fingered his goblet absently. He sighed. "I suppose that this will be our last dueling lesson then," he said flatly.

"I hope not," she replied. "I'm just starting to get the hang of this dueling business. I don't want to stop."

"You don't?" he said with look of bewilderment.

"Of course not," she insisted. Then with a coy smile, she added, "You're still the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher that I've ever had. I don't intend to let you off so easily."

He grinned broadly and remarked, "Then I'll try not to disappoint you."

"So," she ventured cautiously, "when did you get bit?"

"It happened when I was a very small boy, about five years old. I was camping with my parents and wandered off. I was careless," his said, his voice full of self-reproach. "My parents tried everything to cure me, but there wasn't anything that they could do. So we moved to the country, away from other people. I grew up there with my family and a couple of huge sheepdogs for company. When I was young, my mother taught me at home. They couldn't send me to school. The other parents wouldn't have wanted me around their children."

"But you went to Hogwarts?" Angela protested.

"When Dumbledore became Headmaster, he admitted me to the school. They took certain precautions to protect the other students from me. Do you remember the Whomping Willow on Hogwarts grounds and the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade Village? They were put there for me."

"The Shrieking Shack? Isn't that haunted?" Angela asked.

"No, it's not. I'll explain in a minute." He traced his finger on the table as if drawing a map and continued, "There is a secret tunnel that links the willow to the Shrieking Shack. During the full moon, Madam Pomfrey would escort me through the tunnel to the shack to transform into a werewolf. When the moon waned, I would come back to the school."

He paused briefly with a look of anguish on his face, and then continued resolutely. "Werewolf transformations are...extremely painful. It was much worse when I was young. When I became a werewolf, I was wild and dangerous even to myself. Those were my screams that the villagers heard."

Angela was staring across the table at him, hanging on his every word. "What about the Wolfbane Potion?" she interrupted. "Doesn't that allow you to keep your senses when you transform."

"Yes, that's right," he replied. "If I take it during the week before, I retain control when I become a werewolf. But it wasn't discovered until I was an adult."

"So was there anything that would help?" Angela asked sympathetically, her eyes beginning to fill with tears.

Lupin shook his head, looked away from her, and continued. "But apart from my monthly transformations, those days at Hogwarts were the best of my life. For, you see, I had real friends - Sirius Black, James Potter, and Peter Pettigrew. Naturally, I tried to hide what I was from them. But being clever, Sirius and James soon discovered my secret. I thought that they would desert me, but, to my surprise, they didn't."

"That's when our real adventures began. My friends did something indescribably wonderful for me. They became Animagi. Because werewolves are only dangerous to humans, they could keep me company safely by becoming animals. So when the moon was full, they would turn themselves into animals and sneak down the tunnel to join me. Before long, we started leaving the shack on adventures during my monthly transformations. We explored the castle grounds, the Forbidden Forest, and the village. Those were wonderful times. The best I've had. Probably, the best I'll ever have."

"And your life since then?" Angela prompted.

"After Hogwarts, I joined the original Order of the Phoenix. When it disbanded, I traveled around finding employment where and when I could. I worked as a private tutor for a while. Then I taught for several years at a school for children with lycanthropy, until it closed down four years ago. My old friends, Sirius and James, are dead. Pettigrew turned traitor. You yourself know how most wizards regard werewolves. And now, because of the Ministry's anti-werewolf legislation, it's becoming nearly impossible to find employment," he said with a sigh of resignation.

"How do you manage?" she asked with concern.

"I get by. I have a few friends and my work here for the Order. I'm indebted to Dumbledore for his faith in me. He's given me work when no one else would."

"And the Wolfbane Potion? Do you take that?"

"I take it when I can get it. But it's a fairly complicated potion and I've never been very good at potions. It's certainly not something that I could manage myself."

"Oh, there is something that you're not good at," Angela said with a wan smile. She paused. "You mentioned your parents, but do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"I had a brother, Romulus, but he died of complications at birth. My parents never had another child after that."

"I'm sorry," she said. Then with a quizzical expression, she asked, "Remus and Romulus?"

With a chagrined look, Lupin replied, "Well, yes. My father was a bit taken with Roman mythology."

"At least, he didn't name you Jupiter," she countered.

Lupin's face turned an even deeper shade of red.

"He didn't!" she gasped.

"Didn't you ever wonder why I never use my middle name?" Lupin smiled at her awkwardly and changed the subject. "You promised to tell me about your best memory."

With a mysterious grin, Angela replied, "Well, it's too late tonight, but I promise to tell you all about it at our next lesson."