Blood Magic

Werewolf's Honor

The next day, Professor Lupin caught Harry in the corridor as he was leaving Transfiguration.

"Mr. Potter," he said formally, "I'd like you to come to my office, directly after classes, if you can."

"Sure," Harry agreed. He looked nervously at Lupin, who was currently very much the professor in both voice and bearing. "Er ... about yesterday?"

"In part. I also thought it was time we had a meeting about your independent study. I've been working on a reading list for you."

"Oh. Okay. I'll be there when your class gets out."

Harry finished Wednesday's Potions homework during his free afternoon time. After a short, fruitless attempt to find a library reference for wyverns understanding Parseltongue, he left for the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. He only had to wait a short while. Eventually, the door opened and a hoard of Hufflepuff and Gryffindor second years came out. Teresa paused to call over a shy, "hi, Harry," which Harry returned with a wave.

"Hi, Teresa. See you tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow?" Lupin questioned, as Harry entered the now-empty classroom.

"She's on the Quidditch team. We have a short afternoon practice. It's really just an intro, to make the new kids comfortable. I'll be working them for real, Friday night." He grinned. "By next Monday, she'll hate me."

Lupin smiled back and led Harry through the classroom and back into his office. "Have a seat," he said, gesturing at the couch. Harry sat, and Lupin brought them tea and wholemeal biscuits, with and without chocolate. He fetched a parchment from his desk.

"Here is a list of books that might interest you, Harry. I'm not expecting you to read all of them, but I'd like you to find them all, look them over, and pick four or five. From that, we can work out a research project or two. If you're interested, we could also work in some analysis of current events."

"Like the werewolves?" Harry asked curiously.

Lupin, to Harry's surprise, visibly tensed. "I might have difficulty with maintaining objectivity," he said lightly. "If you want to cover current werewolf issues, you should do it for someone else -- Dumbledore, perhaps -- and use me as a source, only."

"All right."

Lupin sighed and looked down at his teacup. He rotated it ninety degrees in its saucer, then back again. "Harry ... why were you fighting with Ron?"

Harry sighed.

"Ron went after Malfoy -- just verbally, you know, but there was no reason for it. He was just walking to class, like I was. So I told Ron to back down, and he got upset. Malfoy had to throw fuel on the fire by calling me "Harry" as he left, and Ron flipped out about it. I had to sit on him to keep him from charging after Malfoy. Then when he got up, he wanted my assurances I wouldn't let Malfoy do it again. I said I'd rather call him Draco and see what he did, and Ron attacked me. I hadn't pulled out my wand to hex him, really -- it's just a reflex to pull my wand out, when someone tries to punch me."

Lupin closed his eyes. Harry could see him pushing down a tangled complexity of emotions. Was he thinking of James and Sirius, of Severus, of himself? Finally, he opened his eyes and his expression settled into a slight frown.

"I can see where you might have such a reflex, Harry, but you should understand that it is not always the safest thing to do." The tone was academic, official, an adult's lecture. Harry fumed. "There are times and places where drawing your wand may get you killed or arrested, while ducking a punch, or even taking it, will get you through danger quickly, and may give you a legal advantage."

Harry glowered. "I understand all about protective submission, Remus. I've also had enough of it. I won't take attacks from Ron."

"Forget Ron!" Lupin snapped. "If you pulled your wand in the corridors of the Ministry building, you could legally be killed by any Auror in sight. Not doing it here, where it is also a rule infraction, is good practice in control."

"I can do it when I need to. I will not do it for Ron," Harry repeated stubbornly.

Lupin made a sound that was half-sigh, half-growl. "I'd have some hope you'd improve, if Severus wasn't just as much a prideful, pigheaded idiot as James."

Harry chuckled. He was relieved they were back on personal ground. "I'm doomed," he said lightly.

For a moment, they were both silent. Harry suspected Remus was trying to decide whether or not to push the issue. "Look," Harry said, forestalling any further comments, "would you do me a favor?"

Lupin raised an eyebrow at him. "Perhaps. What favor?"

"Would you let me pair with Malfoy, in class? I'm trying to truce with him, and we seem not to be at each other's throats, any more. It's painfully obvious you don't trust us together, and I'd like to give it a try."

They were talking comfortably about Malfoy, Ron, and the art of pairing students for dueling when Lupin glanced at the wall clock and twitched. He shifted in his seat.

"It's pleasant to talk with you, Harry, and I would love to continue this, but I have a visitor arriving at the hour. Perhaps we could meet for tea, this weekend?"

"All right." Harry frowned as Lupin stood. It was still fifteen minutes before six. "Can't I stay until he gets here?"

"I'm afraid not." Lupin's face was drawn with anxiety, though his smile remained pleasant. "Please understand, Harry -- there are some people I would rather you not meet."

"Oh." Harry tried to puzzle that out. Remus had a lover, perhaps?

"Go along, now," Lupin said, urging him toward the door. "We've plenty of time to talk, later."

In the doorway, Harry hesitated again. A flash of anger crossed Lupin's face.

"Harry, I have asked you politely, several times, to leave my rooms. I do not owe you an explanation. Go!"

Harry left.

Once he was safely around the corner, Harry stopped and thought. A visitor for Remus would be coming either from the Entrance Hall or from Dumbledore's office. If he went back past Remus's office and waited around the corner, he might be able to catch a glimpse of Remus's visitor. Of course, if he went back past Remus's office, Remus would notice.

After some deliberation, Harry went up a floor, to the other end of the corridor, and down again. He crept to the corner and peered around. He wished he had his invisibility cloak, or even a Muggle toy periscope. The thought gave him an idea. He took his smallest book and transfigured it into a smaller mirror, then carefully floated that out into the corridor, near the knees of a suit of armor. With the dim light, here, it was unlikely to be noticed. He positioned the mirror until he could see the hallway outside Remus's door in it. He waited.

It was more than five minutes later, but still, Harry estimated, short of six, when a stranger came into the hallway. She was a young woman, perhaps in her mid-twenties, with short, light brown hair. She knocked lightly at Remus's door.

"Selena," he greeted her, "please come in."

Lupin's tone was warm, but Harry noticed the sparseness of the greeting. He did not say, "a pleasure to see you," or "welcome," or even "hello." Harry wondered what kind of terms the two were on.

After giving them a moment to get talking, Harry decided to try and hear a bit of their conversation. He started towards the door, then stopped. He was aware that a werewolf's hearing was sharper than a normal human's. He could walk more quietly with his shoes off, but what if someone saw him? He would be obviously sneaking around. Harry looked at the door, halfway down the hall, then listened a moment to the late afternoon silence. Finally, he took off his shoes and walked towards the door.

Once there, he could hear nothing. Not nothing intelligible, but nothing at all. Either the door was magically warded, or Remus had taken the woman back into his private rooms. Frowning, Harry walked to the staircase and put his shoes back on. Perhaps he could coax information out of Remus over the weekend.

Hermione was working on her Arithmancy homework when Ron came up behind her chair and leaned close to her ear.

"This a good time?" he asked.

"Gah!" Hermione dumped her book on the floor as she attempted to jump from a sitting position.

"Sorry," Ron said unconvincingly. "I thought you'd heard me."

"Like I'd believe that. Ouch. My toe hurts where that book hit it." Hermione glared at him. "A good time for what?"

"Talking to Professor Lupin."

"Oh!" Hermione's hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, of course. Let me just pile this stuff and move it, so someone else can sit here while I'm gone...."

"Hey!" Ginny called over, as Hermione stood up.

"What?"

"I was sketching you."

Hermione glanced at Ginny, who was sitting by the windows with a tablet on her raised knees.

"Sorry," she said. "I'm sure I'll be in the same position later."

"Probably," Ginny agreed. "Oh well -- I'll do Dean, then. He won't dare move."

Hermione and Ron climbed through the portrait hole and headed down the stairs. Halfway down, they heard the sound of someone coming up. Ron peered down a level and stepped back.

"It's Harry," he whispered, as he took Hermione's arm and steered her back up to the next landing, and from there into a small room.

"So?"

"So, we don't want him to know what we're doing, right?"

They waited for the footsteps to near, then pass. When all had been quiet for a while, they reemerged and continued down to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

The door, to their surprise, was closed. Hermione knocked. When their was no answer, she knocked again. They waited a minute, and were just about to leave when the door opened. Lupin was standing there, rather red in the face, with a scowling young woman behind him.

"Ron, Hermione!" he exclaimed. "How pleasant. Please come in -- Miss Forest was just leaving."

The scowling woman put on a superficial smile. Even that made her quite pretty, Hermione decided. Her short hair was worn in an easy-care Muggle style, and her robes were a sedate medium blue that set off her golden-brown hair nicely.

"But surely you'll introduce me, Remus," she said chidingly.

Lupin did not look pleased. "Selena," he said politely, "this is Miss Granger, a Muggle-born student, and her friend, Mr. Weasley, the sixth son of a minor official of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department." Hermione could see Ron building up a head of steam at that. She was not pleased with being introduced by her parentage, either. "Neither of them is of any use to you," Lupin concluded firmly. "Children, this is Miss Forest."

"But the Weasleys are friendly with Harry Potter, are they not?" Selena asked, extending her hand to Ron. Lupin caught at her wrist.

"You are welcome to speak to me, Selena," Remus said harshly. "That welcome does not extend to my students. Go, or I will tell Albus Dumbledore that you have overstepped your bounds."

"I am a grown woman, Remus. I do not answer to professors, nor to eccentric, ineffective bumblers of any sort."

Lupin's eyes narrowed. "Now," he said angrily.

Selena sniffed. "I'm going. I liked you better as a free agent, Remus. That conniving old man hasn't done you any good." With that, she left.

Lupin leaned against the door frame. He looked exhausted. "I apologize for that terrible introduction," he said sincerely, "but she is not someone you want to take notice of you. The more inconsequential she believes you to be, the better."

"Should we leave, Professor?" Hermione asked. "Do you need to follow her?

Lupin shook his head. "No. There were conditions on her entrance here, and now that she is out of my room, she will be compelled to walk straight to the gates." He straightened, teetering slightly. "Come in."

"Is it near the full moon, sir?" Ron asked cautiously.

Lupin shook his head. "Do I look that bad? No, it's the dark of the moon tomorrow. I just need some sleep. Please sit down."

When they were settled on the couch, Lupin collapsed immediately into the chair. He did not offer them anything, nor even clear away the remains of a recent tea. "Pardon the mess," he said. "I haven't had a moment since classes started this morning, but I don't mind you, if you can stand me on family manners. What can I do for you?"

"Well...." Hermione looked at Ron. He looked back at her.

"We were wondering about the Marauder's Map," Hermione said hurriedly.

"How it was made, and that sort of thing," Ron added helpfully. Hermione shot him a glare. She was hoping to have some information out of Lupin before they got to questions he might feel obligated to refuse to answer.

Lupin shook his head and laughed softly.

"Ah, even you won't be easy, today, will you? Harry wasn't either."

"Professor Lupin," Hermione said formally. "We realize we can't expect you to make another one --"

"I could not make another one," Lupin interrupted. "It was very complex and time-consuming magic. Two people are needed at minimum. It took the four of us over a month, and I don't think we could have finished without Peter." Pain tightened his face at the memory of the fourth Marauder. Hermione thought that his betrayal must be worse than the deaths, in some ways.

"But we could make one?" Ron asked eagerly.

Lupin sighed. "I am not surprised that you miss the map, however, I know just how useful that map is, and how we tended to use it."

"But you wouldn't have found out about Peter without it," Hermione pressed, though she felt guilty at using what was obviously a painful memory. "You might never have discovered Sirius's innocence. And we don't cause much trouble, really."

"Hermione, I am a professor, here," Lupin said reasonably. "I cannot tutor you through making a device optimized for the breaking of rules."

"Could you give us any information, though? Research hints? It would be a good project for us, wouldn't it?"

Lupin rose wearily to his feet. "I will give you a pass to the restricted section," he said firmly. "That is all."

Hermione nodded glumly as she watched Lupin write out the pass. Any of her professors would have given her that, except possibly Snape. Still, she thanked Professor Lupin kindly for the folded strip of paper he pressed into her hand, and she and Ron left promptly, as the professor appeared to be in need of a nap before dinner.

"What now?" Ron asked glumly, when they were a decent distance from Lupin's door.

"Now we go to the library," Hermione said firmly.

"Before dinner?"

"It will give us some time to narrow down our search."

"We don't even know what we're looking for!" Ron complained.

"Of course we do," Hermione retorted, with more confidence than she felt. "A Mapping Charm. A spell to identify people. A Writing Charm. If the Marauders could do it, so can we."

"I dunno," Ron said. "With Harry, I might agree, but without.... And what was that thing about Peter? It never sounded like he was all that useful, before."

"I don't know," Hermione admitted.

At the door to the library, she stopped to survey the note. Her eyes widened. "Oh my!" she whispered.

"What?"

Hermione threw her arms around Ron in sheer delight. "Moony gets thank yous and chocolate and .... oh! Look!" She showed him Lupin's note. It was not a general pass to the restricted section. It was a pass allowing her to borrow three specific books.

Ron blinked for a moment.

"But this only -- oh!" He got it too. His eyes widened. "After all those protests...!"

Hermione grinned. "Plenty of time before dinner!"

"Harry?"

Harry looked up at the unfamiliar voice. Zoe, he realized.

"Hi, Zoe," he said.

"Are you going to dinner? Most people have left."

Harry looked around. He hadn't noticed the common room slowly emptying, but yes, he and Zoe were now the only people in it.

"Wow," he said. "I guess I was sort of lost in my work."

He knew he had done that intentionally. He had wanted to find Ron or Hermione, or both, and when he could not, set himself to thinking about his Defense essay instead. He realized he still hadn't answered Zoe, and nodded.

"Yes, I do want dinner. Will you wait while I pack this stuff up?"

"No problem!" Zoe said brightly.

They walked cheerfully down the stairs together all the way to the ground floor, discussing combat use of hexes. Outside the Great Hall, Harry turned at a flicker of motion, and saw Snape advancing on them from the shadows, in full, intimidating stalk, with his black robes billowing about him. He felt, rather than saw, Zoe's sudden tension.

"Potter," Snape spat, from far too close.

Harry froze. He would have liked to think it was good acting, but really, he knew it he did it out of habit, or possibly just from Snape's skill at projecting menace.

"Yes, sir?"

"I am warning you, Potter," Snape whispered threateningly, "that you had better be in your own room tonight -- there are werewolves about." The whisper dropped, but lost no malice to add:

"Your father would want you in sight."

Snape stepped back, pivoted with an intensity that brushed the hem of his robes across the back of Harry's knees, and strode into the Great Hall.

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Chapter 36: Family Interlude