To Face the Wolf

Finrod Felagund

They ate breakfast in the wizard's sitting room. Remus toasted some bread and heated a kettle of water for the brew called tea with a few flicks of his wizard's wand, thereby confirming Finrod's hypothesis that one of the purposes of magic was to save time and labour.

When he brought this up, Remus nodded and asked him if he would cover distances by walking if he had wings.

Finrod's reaction that he might if he wanted to see the world from a different angle, surprised the wizard. He had to concede that there was much to be said for such a viewpoint but added that he was convinced the other was not so oblivious to the value of time that he would prefer walking if speed was imperative. Which Finrod had to admit was true enough.

After that they discussed the devices called toilet and shower, and Finrod was surprised to find that he appeared to have a better grasp of them than Remus, who confessed that this so called technology was almost as incomprehensible to him as magic was to Muggles. If Muggle-born wizards had not introduced these things to the Wizarding World, he said, they would have had to take recourse to scourgify charms or old-fashioned washing basins - and there was much to be said for a hot shower.

To that, Finrod could only agree. However, when he remarked that inventing devices that anyone could operate without knowing how they worked was perhaps one of the Muggle ways of saving time. Remus seemed to be taken aback a little. When he asked if each generation of wizards had to master approximately the same spells and magical applications, Remus became very pensive. So Finrod refrained from pointing out how requiring that everyone invent their own wheel might have the effect of counteracting the time saving effect that the use of wheels had on the world at large. For someone like him it was too easy to talk condescendingly about the attempts of various kinds of mortals to deal with the limited life spans allotted to them. Instead, he brought up the owl message.

'Would you advise me to pay the lady Sybill a visit?' he asked. He failed to understand why this made Remus look unhappy. The lady had already seen him, so what was the trouble?

'What Sybill foresees, doesn't always come true,' Remus replied. 'You may be wasting your time, Finrod.'

These people truly had issues with time, yet this sounded too much like a subterfuge. 'I know that true foresight never arrives on command,' Finrod said. 'But would it not be unkind to decline the invitation?'

Remus cast him a curious glance. 'You're familiar with divination and predicting the future?'

It seemed to Finrod that the things Remus mentioned were not quite the same as foresight, which was notoriously unpredictable. Nor did it seem very likely that wizards had knowledge about the future at their beck and call - not even the Valar possessed such power. But that was hardly what this was about, he realised. Remus had distracted him before, and Finrod began to see a pattern. Deciding that the wizard would not get away with it this time he said: 'Do you fear that I will see the wrong things if I go?'

Remus laughed mirthlessly. 'You're as cunning as Albus Dumbledore... The chance is small, but yes, I'm afraid something... scary might show itself in Sybill's crystal ball. Every once in a while, a true glimpse of the future lights up in the present. You refuse to call yourself a wizard, but you seem to be as aware of this as any of us.'

Finrod nodded, knowing better than to press on. He was sorely tempted to search the other's mind again. Like two days before, in the bathroom of the hospital wing, Remus did not look well, but other than that his face yielded little; few mortals displayed such composure - and not many Eldar either, for that matter. But when Remus rose and went to the nearest window, gazing out, Finrod decided that he would not intrude upon his inner struggle.

The silence stretched, until Remus turned away from the window. 'I have to tell you something,' he said hoarsely, 'though you'll probably hate me when I'm done.' He sighed. 'As you told me, your injuries were caused by a werewolf. I don't know if you are aware of it, but werewolf bites have dire consequences.' He paused.

When Finrod did not make any comments he went on: 'A person who is bitten by such a creature but survives the attack, will also turn into a werewolf. It could be... I fear this is what will happen to you, next time the moon is full. To make things worse' - for a moment, Finrod saw the naked torment in his eyes, and his heart went out to the wizard - 'I... I'm afraid the werewolf who bit you is with you in this room.'

'You are a werewolf?' This was the weirdest thing Finrod had heard so far. He wondered if the wizard was in his right mind, and what could have happened to his sanity. 'You roam this castle once a moon in the shape of a ferocious monster, biting those you find on your path?'

'No. This was an incident. It wasn't supposed to happen. I don't even remember biting you, but -' Remus checked himself. After a brief silence he resumed: 'But everything points to me. I am the only werewolf at Hogwarts.' Though his face was pale and his voice strained, the wizards did not avoid Finrod's gaze. 'I can only beg your forgiveness, though I'll understand if you can't give it to me.'

Whatever Finrod had expected, not this. He remembered the werewolf in Sauron's dungeons on Tol-in-Gaurhoth only too well. To reconcile this image of horror with the kind and careworn man in front of him demanded a mental leap, further than any he had ever had to make.

He is delusional, he thought, and then: But what if it works that way here? This is the strangest place you have ever seen, and then: You ought to be ashamed of the misjudgement that tied your tongue, two days ago, son of Finarfin. He has been torturing himself needlessly because of your silence. And to think that people called you Wisdom once.

'Remus,' he said urgently, 'you did not bite me.'

Shaking his head Remus said: 'How can you tell? Do you know what I look like as a werewolf?'

'No.' It was still beyond belief that this man would change into a monster once every moon. 'But I killed the one I fought.'

'You killed it? How? What weapon did you have?' The wizard returned to his seat with carefully measured steps, and Finrod could not help admiring the way he struggled to retain his composure and dignity.

'I had no weapon.' Finrod hesitated. 'I bit its throat.' A horrible thing to say. A gruesome thing to have done. Little dignity in that. But it would be bearable, if only he could be certain he had fulfilled his Oath and saved Beren's life.

Again, Remus shook his head, still refusing the hope held out to him. 'But it's impossible to kill such... creatures that way. And what happened to the body? Where is this dead werewolf, if it wasn't me?'

Where I was, before I turned up here. But Finrod suspected this would not suffice... 'Remus,' he said, 'I swear that I sank my teeth into the beast. Did you see any bite marks on yourself, two mornings ago? Anything to suggest you were in a fight?'

Remus blinked. 'No. I didn't.' He massaged his temples, as if to rub Finrod's words through skin and bone into his skull. Finally, he looked up. 'Finrod, you've got no idea how grateful I am for your words.' Suddenly, his tired face twisted into a smile. 'So, all I've left to fear now is that the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures will decide to live up to its name.'

'Dangerous Creatures? Disposal?' Finrod asked, hoping his ugly suspicions were no more than just that.

'If you transform into a werewolf, next time the moon is full, Snape will probably find a way to incriminate me. Innocent or not, I remain the most likely culprit. I'll get the blame. This will be considered proof that I'm truly a Dark Creature. Unless you can prove your story, the Wizarding World will cure me of my darkness by separating my head from my trunk. With an axe,' Remus added, almost as an afterthought.

Dark Creature? Foul creatures of evil. His own thoughts about the werewolves bred by the Black Foe. Finrod was at a loss for words, and suddenly he thought he understood the other's tired look, the many lines in his otherwise still youthful face, his greying hair, his frayed appearance.

I will not change into a werewolf, he wanted to comfort Remus, not fooled for a moment by the man's black humour. This reality is not mine; I am different. Have no fear, my friend. But Finrod found that he could not say it, for how could he be wholly certain that it was true? If Sauron's beast had nothing in common with the werewolves here, how could it be that Severus Snape's antidote had countered the workings of its venom so well?

Finrod bent forward to squeeze Remus's knee, hoping the gesture was not futile. It was as clear as sunlight; there was only one thing he could do to avoid endangering the wizard's life. He would have to leave this place before Isil was full again. What this would mean for his chances to return to where he came from was impossible to say.

***

Sirius Black

Bless that Kneazle. Clever animal; must be the familiar of an intelligent student. He'd put it to the test: find the password to the Gryffindor Tower. You find it, mate, and bring it to me!

He had to get in. Wormtail - fuck you, Wormtail! Curse you, traitor! Scum of the earth! Having his soul sucked out would be a mercy, except that he didn't have one since he sold it to the Dark - Wormtail was in there, acting the innocent rat. Rat! They should have known, should have seen it coming, I should have seen it coming, I was always so clever. Don't make me laugh. Noble stag, faithful dog, and little Peter the sycophant, little Peter Rat.

The Kneazle had proposed to eat it for him but no. Wormtail was his to kill. He imagined the rat between his jaws, ready to be crunched. That would be the ideal way. He hoped he could avoid scaring the boy to death, but fright didn't kill. Fear could, in the long run. But you had to know the Dementors to know, and the boy didn't. Grim determination. Sorry redhead, you're in for a shock.

It had been a long run, all the way to Hogwarts, on the run, chasing, chased, hunting, hunted, no rest, no respite, certainly not after seeing Harry with those -

Muggles. Hard not to think black pride and pureblood prejudice, watching them with his godson. Horrors. Dementors in Muggle clothes. Harry had to be rescued from them. Dumbledore should have known better, but Dumbledore also believed him guilty. And why not; he was a killer but for young Harry's father - James. Oh, James, I failed you, failed you, failed you. I deserved what I got. Murderer. No wonder they thought I was guilty.

Moony, too. Moony's here. Keeps his mouth shut - always did so and this time, too, thank all the powers in the universe. Curse you, Moony, for believing me guilty. Curse me, for thinking it was you. No - forgive me. I wish I could show myself to you. But I'm not insane enough to take the chance.

The black dog transformed into a man, squatting among the bushes of the Forest. The smell of the forest faded and its sounds were dulled. But all around him, the black and white and grey hues of canine vision exploded into a blaze of colours: green grass, blue sky, the rich browns of trees, the yellow tones of the building blocks. The shimmering flux surrounding Hogwarts that was clearly perceptible to his dog's eyes vanished, and everything became solid and harsh.

The morning was too bright and hard for him, and he flinched.

After a long moment, he transformed back into a dog.

***

Remus Lupin

'Leave this place?' the Headmaster repeated. His head had popped up in the fireplace some time during the lengthy silence following Remus's last words, as if he had been waiting for the most depressing moment to show himself and be invited for a round of tea.

It had taken them less than one cup to bring Dumbledore up to date; he had nodded a couple of times but not interrupted either of them, though his eyes had widened a little at Finrod's claim to have slain his werewolf. But now, he looked as surprised as Remus felt at Finrod's announcement that he intended to leave..

'Of course,' Finrod said, his voice less composed than his face. 'Only five people know I'm here. Two of them are in this room and you can tell the others, more or less truthfully, that I decided to depart.' He threw Remus a smile that did not reach his eyes. 'You'll be safe.'

And you'll be lost, Remus thought. It was obvious that Finrod had no idea where to go, and just as obvious that he was determined to do what he considered to be the Right Thing. At that moment, Remus's lingering suspicions concerning the other's good intentions dissolved like a hex lifted by a finite incantatem.

Apparently, Albus Dumbledore didn't share Finrod's opinion. 'Assuming I'd be willing to loose an inexperienced werewolf on the world,' he said, 'where would you propose to go, Mr. Felagund?'

'I'll find something. And though it's far from certain that I'll change into a werewolf, I fully intend to stay away from people, next time the moon is full.' If anything, Finrod sounded a little pedantic now.

'If it's true what I'm told, you don't know this country.'

'It's true. Though I do know the stars that shine down on it.'

'The same stars shine down on many places. But they won't tell you where to go if you don't have the lie of the land. How will you know there's no one near you?' When Finrod remained silent the Headmaster turned to his Defence teacher: 'Does he know yet what it means to be a werewolf, Remus?' Dumbledore eyed him gravely over his half-moon spectacles.

And so, whether he liked it or not, Remus had to describe the painful change from man to beast, and the bloodthirsty monster he was forced to become, once every four weeks. 'You will turn into one of the most dangerous and lethal creatures in the world,' he told Finrod. 'Do you really want to run free and risk taking the life - or the humanity - of an innocent?' As I did repeatedly during my last years here at Hogwarts, irresponsible fool that I was?

'There's a potion,' Dumbledore added, 'that will allow you to keep your own mind, though it won't prevent your transformation. But in order to take it, you'll have to stay here, as you must drink it freshly brewed.' He poured himself more tea, added some lemon and swirled the contents around in his cup.

Finrod had paled, but he didn't flinch. 'And if I leave at once after taking this potion?'

'You will transform too close to the castle not to be traced back to it,' Remus said quietly; Finrod was no wizard, so presumably he would be unable to disappear by magical means. 'And you may get lost and transform back among people who hate and hunt werewolves.

For a while, no one spoke. It was Finrod who broke the silence. 'Then it seems that I will have to choose between an innocent I don't know and one I do know.'

Dumbledore took a sip of tea, and Remus saw a droplet fall into his silvery beard. 'Assuming,' he said, setting down his cup, 'that you have a choice. I -'

Finrod raised his hand in a gesture that struck Remus as nothing less than regal, so he wasn't too surprised when Dumbledore actually fell silent. 'Before you challenge my freedom to protect a friend, Headmaster of Hogwarts,' Finrod said, his voice suddenly gone stern, 'I would question your conviction that I will turn into a werewolf.' He cast a brief glance toward Remus, who was almost shocked to hear the other claim his friendship, as if his condition hadn't caused Finrod's current predicament. 'I'm not human. Can immortals turn into werewolves? If they can't, we're all wasting words.'

Dumbledore, who had blinked at Finrod's change of tone, regained his composure. 'To my best knowledge, there are no records of immortals becoming werewolves,' he replied. 'But this doesn't mean it never happened. And how am I to know you are truly immortal?'

'He's got these pointed ears,' Remus cut in before Finrod could reply, 'and he heals faster than anyone.'

'I'm afraid that isn't conclusive evidence, Remus.' Dumbledore turned back to Finrod. 'But you are mistaken if you think I am prepared to sacrifice Remus on the altar of a greater good.'

'Glad to hear it,' Remus said lightly. The Headmaster, he told himself, would be too sorry to lose his third Defence against the Dark Arts teacher in as many years not to do his utmost to prevent it. Maybe he had enough of a hold on his Potions Master to keep him from owling the Disposal Committee.

Not allowing Finrod to leave Hogwarts was sound policy, too, from Dumbledore's point of view. As long as nobody knew how he had entered the castle, it was better to keep the stranger within sight, just in case he was Dark (and Sirius's accomplice). That Remus no longer believed so was irrelevant.

But at the moment, all this cold reasoning dissolved before the glow Finrod had kindled inside him by calling him a friend. It was a tentative little fire; he would have to tend it carefully. Right now, it was this modest flame that encouraged him to say: 'It could be there's another way out of this - quandary. If we were able to find out how Finrod ended up here, the perfect solution might present itself.' And if it doesn't and I have to face the worst, I swear I'll clear my conscience by telling the Headmaster all about Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs.

He smiled at Finrod and added. 'Not that I'm eager to see a friend leave so soon.'

Finrod smiled back, though the smile faded more quickly from his eyes than it left his lips.

'I've been thinking the same,' Dumbledore said with sudden briskness. 'There are several solutions to our present problem, but this one does seem the best for all parties involved. So, Mr. Felagund, don't you agree it would be helpful if you told us more about yourself, and about what happened to you before you appeared in our dung-'

He was interrupted by a series of staccato raps on the door.

(TBC)