To Face the Wolf

Remus Lupin, ctd.

'It was Sirius Black, wasn't it?' Remus said.

Finrod nodded gravely.

'Did he' - change into a large black dog, by any chance? But he couldn't ask it, of course, just in case Sirius hadn't. 'Did he harm you in any way?' Remus heard himself say in a concerned voice. The wrong kind of concern, but it would do.

'Do I look damaged?'

'Not all damage is visible,' Remus answered. Seeing a wedge of grey light between the curtains he used his wand to open them and let the dawn in.

'He denied me a soul,' Finrod said, 'because the Dementor didn't affect me. But as I know I have a soul, it didn't bother me too much.' He paused for a moment. 'There were more things he said that did not make sense to me.'

Remus closed his eyes for a moment. He sighed. 'Well, a dozen years in the wizarding prison of Azkaban would be detrimental to anyone's sanity... What more did he say?'

'He suggested I'd go catching rats.'

'Rats?' Remus frowned. 'What for?'

'Maybe he eats them? Or he needs them to court the cat he has befriended.'

'Cat?' A brilliant conversationalist, Remus John Lupin. But why on earth would Padfoot consort with a feline?

'A huge, bow-legged ginger with a squashed face. Not the fairest feline in creation. I followed it from the castle and found Black waiting for it in the woods.' Finrod stretched his long legs. 'Do you happen to know any ginger cats living here?'

'Not personally.' Hogwarts harboured many dozens of students who all had their own familiars; it didn't take Arithmancy to figure out that one of them might be a ginger cat. Vainly Remus tried to remember if he'd ever spotted one in the castle. Sirius must indeed have gone mental. Had he sworn vengeance to the entire rat race because poor Wormtail had had the courage to confront the dog? Was he enlisting the help of the castle's feline population? And if so, who would be next - Mrs. Norris? He suppressed a nervous giggle when he remembered Minerva McGonagall was a cat animagus.

'The cat brought him something,' Finrod continued, seemingly oblivious to the ridiculous mental images Remus's mind was conjuring up against the boggart lurking in the closet of his heart. 'I couldn't see what it was. If it was food, it was a very thin wafer, seasoned with drool. But then I suppose escaped convicts hiding in the forest can't afford to be demanding consumers.'

Remus knew a provocation when he heard one. How much does he know? Does he think the rats are for Padfoot? He was about to turn, hoping to see Finrod's expression, when something caught his eye. Above the lake, a number of dark spots appeared against the pale sky. They were rapidly growing larger. The first post owls, carrying messages and copies of today's newspapers. Remus opened the window, expecting his own Daily Prophet to be among them.

The owl unceremoniously tossed his copy on the carpet, and swerved to make another delivery without waiting for a treat. The first thing Remus saw was the screaming headline. MINISTRY: BLACK TO BE KISSED ON CAPTURE.

Oh, Sirius

, he thought, and the thought of their ancient friendship stung his heart.

This was the final verdict, the mental axe. He was a moral failure. He had procrastinated too long. His inability to face the Headmaster's disappointment and displeasure had turned from error into crime. Until now, he had been able to tell himself that one day, he would summon the courage to confess his youthful recklessness, his betrayal of Dumbledore's trust. Too late now. Reading this headline Remus knew he would never give away Padfoot's secret. How could anyone principally opposed to the Dementor's Kiss deliver any man to this terrible fate - let alone an old mate? Not Lupin, the werewolf, by many considered a soulless beast. Not even when the other was a Black Wizard who had murdered his brother in heart and betrayed the soul of friendship. He couldn't; it was a simple as that.

And with that, a window in Remus's own soul was closed and shuttered; his conscience turned a blind eye to the potential consequences of his decision to do nothing, while his brain focused on other possible explanations for Sirius's ability to get inside the castle. It didn't have to be Padfoot, or his knowledge of the various secret tunnels underneath Hogwarts castle, did it? What if Sirius had used Dark Arts he had learned from Voldemort himself to get inside? He was always a very gifted wizard, Remus told himself.

Picking up the Daily Prophet he proceeded to close the window.

'What's that?' Finrod asked.

'The paper. The main news item will interest you, too,' Remus replied casually, showing him the headline.

'Bright stars of Heaven!' Finrod exclaimed, staring at the front page. 'So I thwarted your Ministry of Magic?'

Startled, Remus realised what must have happened last night in the Forest. 'You mean you - you stepped between the Dementor and its prey?'

'I did.'

'And saved Black's soul?'

'So it appears,' Finrod said evenly, and without a trace of regret.

***

Severus Snape

After his encounter with the werewolf, last night, Snape had searched the library with the help of a complicated tracking spell. It involved many of the names - the more, the merrier, he thought sarcastically - from the final part of The Silmarillion. He suspected this was a summary of The Lord of the Rings, what with all the upheaval about exactly such a piece of jewellery (and one bursting with dark magic at that, though this was neither here nor there). Executed properly, the spell ought to create a trail from the spot where the book containing those names had been last to the place where it was now. He bet it would lead him to the werewolf's quarters.

Unfortunately, it didn't work. So either The Lord of the Rings was about something different, or all traces of its removal had been wiped out. Snape rejected the librarian's outrageous suggestion that he had made a mistake casting the spell. That wasn't the problem. The problem was, that he was up against very powerful magic. He wondered if Black had somehow laid hands on the book.

The next day he read the Daily Prophet's main article and realised that Black (no doubt informed by Lupin that the Ministery had decreed the Kiss) would resort to desperate measures now. He had no other choice left than to seek out Dumbledore and show him that Mr. Felagund's had fed them a story from a book. However small, there was always a chance Dumbledore would change his mind about Lupin. One could always clutch at straws. It had worked once, a dozen years ago. And so it was that Snape steered his steps toward the Headmaster's office the moment his last morning class dispersed.

To his extreme annoyance, the werewolf was already there when the Headmaster let him in. This meant he would have to make insinuations rather than voice outright accusations and be gainsaid. But Snape wasn't going to back off now. He pressed the book, hidden under his robes, firmly to his chest.

'Ah, Severus. It's good to see you; I was about to floo you,' began Dumbledore, without offering him a sweet. Something had happened, then. 'The three of us have a number of things to discuss. Firstly, Remus has some interesting news. There was a Dementor in the Forbidden Forest last night, not too far from the castle.'

'Really?' That was not at all what Snape had expected. But he was hardly surprised to hear that the Ministry, eager to see Black Kissed, had tried to circumvent Dumbledore's restrictions and helped a Dementor or two to slip inside the castle gates. He looked from Dumbledore to Lupin. 'How do you know?'

'Finrod encountered it,' the werewolf replied.

So that was why he was here. Snape pounced immediately. 'And pray, what business had Finrod being there?' Not that he didn't know the answer, of course: hatching evil with a mass murderer.

'He was going for a stroll,' Lupin replied calmly, as if such was the most natural thing to do. 'As you know, Severus, he has to avoid being seen by the students, so he couldn't leave my rooms by day, when... disguising himself was no longer an option.'

'I take it the Dementor sucked his soul out?' Snape asked silkily. 'Or perhaps it found Black?'

Lupin's eyes narrowed a little, but before he could reply Dumbledore intervened, his blue gaze descending on the Potions Master. 'I suppose you have no idea how this Dementor came to be in the Forest, Severus?'

What was the Headmaster suggesting? Snape clenched his jaws to prevent his bile from running over. That he hated Sirius Black and would love to see him recaptured or Kissed didn't mean he was luring Dementors to the school!!

He cleared his throat. 'Someone must have been thinking happy thoughts, somewhere inside the Forest. I assume Black has discovered how to get past the portrait guarding the Gryffindor Tower - though I really can't think how.' He stared pointedly and viciously at the werewolf. Lupin stared back, seeming unfazed. 'How unfortunate that our Mr. Felagund happened to cross the Dementor's path,' Snape finished.

'Unfortunate - for the Dementor,' Lupin said with a lopsided smile. He bent to pick up something from the floor beside his chair, something Snape hadn't noticed before. 'This is what it left behind when it vanished.' He held the thing up.

It was a Dementor's cloak, black, empty, crumpled and slightly pathetic to look at. Snape shut his mouth when Lupin's smile widened almost imperceptibly.

'Finrod tells me,' the werewolf said, 'that the Dementor tried to kiss him. But instead of leaving him soulless, it lost its own substance. If it had any to begin with.'

Impossible! Snape wanted to shout. 'A Dementor's kiss,' he hissed softly, vehemently, 'leaves no one unscathed. No one. Unless they're lying - or unless they have no soul. And what happens if a Dementor tries to kiss a soulless creature, is hard to predict.'

Albus Dumbledore sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair. 'Indeed,' he said, turning his gaze toward the werewolf with what looked remarkably like pity. Lupin paled a little, Snape saw to his satisfaction, though he didn't have the faintest idea what the Headmaster was getting at and knew it was no use trying to read the best Occlumens in the Wizarding world.

'Indeed,' the Headmaster repeated, 'I have been wondering if our estimated guest does possess a soul. Which brings me to the other thing I need to discuss.' He adjusted his glasses. 'After Finrod gave us his story, last Sunday, I remembered a book I read decades ago, while I was still teaching Transfiguration. The title was The Lord of the Rings.'

Lupin sat up abruptly. Snape nearly gasped. The Headmaster had taken it - and he hadn't wanted Madam Pince to know. What was the old man up to?

'A popular book among Muggles,' Dumbledore went on, 'and also among Muggle-born Hogwarts students and some of their friends.'

'It was,' Lupin remarked. 'I remember Lily Evans being thoroughly pissed when Si - Black nicked her copy and lost it. I believe it was in sixth year. James kept combing the school out for months, hoping to...' He fell silent. Snape gritted his teeth. He did not need to be reminded of Potter and his infatuation for the Evans girl.

'Lost it?' Dumbledore said thoughtfully. 'Perhaps it was this copy, found in a broom closet many years ago.' He picked up a book from among the more than dozen volumes on his desk. It was a tattered copy, the front cover partly torn off, the back broken many times over, dog-eared, full of stains and with loose pages sticking out. He patted it affectionately. 'A dearly beloved piece of literature, to judge by its condition. Many a reader's intimate friend.'

A typical Muggle artefact, without any kind of protective charm. 'I doubt it, given the treatment it has suffered from those readers,' remarked Snape, who handled his books with more care than he spent on his hair. But Lupin muttered something that sounded like: 'For each man kills the thing he loves...'

Utterly inappropriate, but Dumbledore was nodding, sentimental old codger that he was. 'How often do we not treat those we love most in the worst possible way, despite all good intentions?' he said quietly. 'But let us not digress. I borrowed this from the library, because I remembered something.' He began to leaf through the sad excuse for a book. One of the loose pages floated to the floor like an autumn leaf dropped by a tree.

'Yes, there it is. Have a look.' He turned the book around on his desk, indicating the passage he wanted them to read. Snape bent forward, but quickly withdrew his head when the werewolf did the same and came too close for comfort.

Lupin glanced aside and had the audacity to smile at him. 'I'll read it aloud,' And raising his voice he began:

'"We know many things," they said. "We have seen you often before with Bilbo, though you may not have seen us."

"Who are you, and who is your lord?" asked Frodo.

"I am Gildor," answered their leader, the Elf who had first hailed him. "Gildor Inglorion of the House of Finrod."'

Ah! thought Snape. Apparently, their "guest" was also mentioned in the other Tolkien book! Now he could pull Granger's copy of The Silmarillion from underneath his robes to unmask Lupin and his crony right in front of Dumbledore. It was all the more urgent as Black, who had undoubtedly been told about the Kiss, might resort to desperate measures any moment now.

He was about to produce the volume when Lupin surprised him by asking. 'Do you mean to say, Headmaster, that Finrod is a character from a book?' Trust that darned werewolf to try and avert suspicion by giving a ridiculous twist to the whole affair!

'Quick on the uptake, as always, Remus,' the Headmaster said.

What? Had he lost his mind? Was Dumbledore finally going senile? Apparently, for he went on: 'Once I found his name in here' - he tapped on The Lord of the Rings - 'the sad case of Ophelia Watershed came to mind. She was a seventeenth-century witch who conjured up a character from some Muggle drama by sheer force of emotion - the way untrained, youthful witches and wizards in distress sometimes cause magic to happen. But when Ophelia desired to marry this character, which bore a strong resemblance to a disreputable actor, her outraged guardian banished it back inside the text and bound it with a powerful spell. Afterwards, the play seems to have become one of the author's most popular dramas. The unfortunate Ophelia, however, promptly committed suicide.' He sighed.

'The maid's guardian used Dark Magic for his binding spell. I knew the man in my younger years. A real scoundrel,' remarked an amused voice. The two teachers both turned to see the portrait of former Slytherin Headmaster Phineas Nigellus look down at them. 'And the play went suitably dark, too; all the main characters bite it.' He stroked his pointed little beard with a loving gesture. If he hadn't been guilty of being Black's ancestor, Snape could have liked him without reserve.

'I do no think this is relevant at the moment, Phineas,' Dumbledore replied mildly. The portrait shrugged, and Snape and Lupin turned back toward the Headmaster. 'What is of concern, though, is that Finrod may have materialised at Hogwarts in a way similar to poor Ophelia's favourite character.'

Snape was speechless. Lupin immediately shook his head. 'But Headmaster, how can the mere mention of a name be enough to rouse the emotions necessary to create such an effect? What's more, our guest is called Finrod Felagund, not just Finrod.' There seemed to be a catch in his voice, but Snape wasn't sure. Who could fathom a werewolf's emotions?

'A good question,' Dumbledore replied. 'I have to agree that the matter may be more complicated still. Possibly, Tolkien has written more about this Finrod; I'm sure there are ways to find out. But if he is a fictional character, which would explain why the Dementor had no effect on him' - he cast Snape a brief glance - 'we'll have to send him back to his literary origins. Even if it means he will vanish from the face of the Earth.'

'Is that why you have been studying this text, Headmaster?' Lupin asked, indicating a volume on Dumbledore's desk that bore the title Embodiment and Disembodiment of Fantastic Imaginings.

'That, and similar texts,' the old man confirmed. 'I actually found some spells and procedures that might serve, if my suspicions are correct.'

Though he didn't object, Snape could almost feel the werewolf bristle. For once, he found himself in agreement with Lupin, be it for different reasons. Much to his chagrin, he realised he couldn't show The Silmarillion now; Dumbledore would only see it as a confirmation of his wild theory and tell him to relax. In front of the werewolf. Again, it looked as if he was facing the real threats and dangers alone.

He rose. So did Lupin. The Headmaster said: 'I'll keep you informed, Remus. You, too, Severus. I may need your Potions expertise.'

Lupin nodded - and then, looking aside, he said casually: 'Before I forget to ask, Severus, did you return the book you confiscated from Hermione Granger yet?'

That he had the nerve to mention this in front of the Headmaster! Typical Gryffindor brazenness. And clever, in the usual superficial way. If Snape said 'no', Dumbledore would encourage him to be nice to Miss Know-it-all and bring the subject up again in the near future. It was difficult not to hurl the hardback straight at the werewolf's deceptively calm face. The volume solid enough to hurt.

'Do you want me to do it for you, Severus,' Lupin said? 'I need to discuss her vampire essay with her anyway.'

He can't possibly know I brought it along!

Snape thought. But maybe he could make the best of the situation yet. 'As it happens,' he said, 'I was going to return it today, Lupin. But if you wish to relieve me of the task, you're welcome.' Producing the book from inside his robes Snape handed it to him.

Dumbledore smiled as if he believed this was a first step towards friendship. Lupin's eyebrows went up briefly when he saw the title. Good! The werewolf wouldn't let the book disappear; he could easily guess Snape had read it. And no one would be more reluctant to tell the Headmaster of its existence than Lupin was - with the possible exception of "Felagund" himself. Gryffindors might have cheek, but Slytherins were cunning.

Severus Snape made sure Lupin saw his smirk when they said goodbye to the Headmaster and left his office.

(TBC)