Of Werewolves and Wanderers

The meeting had dragged on for ages. By the time it was done, Draco was not the only student who had been lulled nearly to sleep by the dreadful repetition of numbers and their corresponding forbidden actions or objects. Draco had finally gotten Harry out of his head. For the first part of the lecture, he kept expecting Dumbledore or McGonagall to burst in and demand to know what he had done with Harry, but so far, there had been no change in the monotonous afternoon at all.

Draco's thoughts then settled on his mother's letter to him. She had said that she didn't want him to end up like his father. Personally, Draco didn't see what was so bad about his father. He was rich, respected, feared, and had control over most of the Ministry of Magic-- what could be wrong with that. However he did see her point. At some point, the addition of countless murders on ones soul might take its toll.

When Filtch finally rolled up his parchment, there was an audible sigh of relief, quickly followed by a groan as Snape instructed them to return at the same time the next day. Snape looked around the room again and Draco braced himself to be approached by the professor, but Snape didn't move towards him, but instead hastily left the room.

Draco followed Gareth out of the hall and down the stairs to their common room. Once there, Draco returned to his bed and took the two letters out from under his pillow. He put his mother's aside and reached to open the letter from his father. Draco fully expected a note from his father demanding to know where his mother was, but the first four words written in his father's rigid and perfect hand-writing stopped him in his tracks.

Your mother is dead.

The blood left Draco's face, leaving him a slightly greenish color. Unable to tear his eyes from the page, he finished the letter. Then he read it again. He didn't realize that he had bitten through his lip until the metallic taste of blood filled him mouth.

A hot swoop of anger filled Draco's stomach. He couldn't have explained who his anger was directed at. At his father, who drove his mother from the house; at You-Know-Who, who started it all; at Dumbledore for luring her into a false sense of security; at her killers, the so-called protectors... but mostly he was angry at himself.

He wouldn't waste time feeling sorry for himself. His mother's death had not been an accident, and he would do whatever he had to in order to avenge her death, even if that meant going against her last wishes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After he left Snape in the Great Hall, Remus headed directly for his office. He silently seethed, but by the time he had reached the top of the stairs, he started to feel ashamed. He had been so worried about Sirius and Harry, once he knew that Sirius's charge had gone, that he had taken it out as anger.

Remus was halfway through the door to his office, by this point feeling absolutely retched, before he realized that there was already some body sitting in his chair. Arabella had been waiting for him since she had left the Great Hall, probably to tell him off for losing his temper and carrying out a verbal duel with Snape.

"I was stupid tonight," Remus started. Arabella stood up and walked over to him and opened her mouth to say something, but Remus continued. "I shouldn't have let my emotions get the better of me. It's just this on top of everything else, and now Harry's--" but Remus didn't get any farther for at that moment, Arabella threw her arms around him and kissed him full on the mouth.

Remus was surprised for about half a second. Then he pulled her closer to him and returned the kiss, pouring in all of his pent up emotion. So intent, he was, on not letting her break off the kiss he barely noticed her hands tearing through his hair, and he was brought back to the his school days when he would kiss her like this before the Change, as if the world was about to end, which, indeed, it was.

All to soon for Remus, Arabella disentangled herself from him and pulled away.

"Next time you need to let off some steam, come find me," Arabella said carefully. She let him kiss her once more, and then turned to walk out of the office.

"Bella?" Remus's voice stopped her. She looked over her shoulder and for a moment, she saw him there, with the gray in his hair and the lines on his once smooth face and she thought of all she had lost to time. "I will."

Her face broke into a smile to match his and blowing him another kiss, she left his office.

Remus flopped down in the chair and wondered what had happened. Was he about to fall back into a relationship with Bella that he had promised himself he would never continue for fear of harming her?

"This has been a confusing night," he said out loud, and with that, he walked past through the office into his adjoining rooms and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco didn't bother replying to his father's owl. His father knew Draco well enough to judge what his reactions would be. He had whiled away the rest of the evening, after reading the letter, completely absorbed by his own thoughts. It wasn't until he climbed the stairs to the common rooms some time later that he realized how late it was. The common room was devoid of students, all of the other prefects having retired to bed earlier. The room was not empty, however. Professor Snape sat alone in one of the high-backed chairs with an expression on his face that Draco had never seen before. Almost pity?

"The headmaster wishes to speak to you, Malfoy," Snape said coolly. Draco swore inwardly. The last thing he wanted right now was to try and convince someone that he was not responsible for Harry's disappearance.

However he nodded to Snape and followed his teacher out of the common room and through the castle to Dumbledore's office. When he thought about it, Draco expected that under normal conditions he might have been surprised that he had never been to Dumbledore's office before-- in fact, he had no idea where it was-- but instead he just felt empty.

Snape stopped just in front of a large stone gargoyle and muttered a password with distaste. A password, that Draco noted, sounded suspiciously like, "Canary Creams." The gargoyle jumped aside and allowed Draco to step past it onto a moving stairway that was rotating up towards a room above. Without looking back at Snape, Draco permitted himself to be carried up to a set of doors that opened into the Headmaster's study. Dumbledore himself sat reading over his desk in the middle of the room.

"Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore started, but Draco cut him off.

"Look, I'm really not in the mood for this, so can you make it quick?" he asked.

"I simply want to ask you a question," Dumbledore said, his eyebrows raising a little.

"Yeah, yeah, why is Potter gone," Draco said scathingly.

"Why is your mother dead?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

Draco stared at the older wizard. Dumbledore had always frightened him, ever since he was a first year and his father had told him that it was because of Dumbledore and his followers that half of the parents of the children in his house were dead or behind bars. Since then, Draco had always been subconsciously terrified that it was his parents that Dumbledore would be after next. This thought forced him to return to Dumbledore's question.

"I don't know what you mean," Draco said, in an offhand tone.

"I rather think you do, young Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said in the same quiet voice.

"My mother was murdered. By the people," he spat the last word at the man in front of him. "Who she thought could protect her."

"That may be true, depending on how you look at it."

"No, its true no matter how you look at it," Draco half shouted.

"So what are you planning on doing about it," Dumbledore asked with another eyebrow raise.

Draco opened his mouth to tell Dumbledore exactly what he planned to do about it, but at that moment, his mother's final words to him rose up off the paper in his mind. She didn't want him to be like his father. She didn't want him to be vengefully and murderous. She didn't want him to be like all of the other Malfoys for generations had been as long as anyone could remember. Draco needed some more time to himself before he knew what he was going to do. Realizing that his mouth was still half open, Draco started talking.

"I gave him the letter that my father sent me about Sirius's trial. After he save-- I mean, there was this spider that almost ki-- I gave him the letter and he read it and took off. Through the woods. And I think that he went into Hogsmeade but I don't know where he was planning on going from there. He said that he had to help his godfather."

Dumbledore nodded as if he understood exactly what Draco had been thinking and this unnerved him slightly, but for some reason he didn't feel fear this time.

"Thank you, Draco. You may go now if you wish. But you may want to talk to Harry when he gets back, you know," his voice was kind, but at Dumbledore last few words, Draco must have visibly grimaced because a twinkle appeared in Dumbledore's eye. Draco disliked the idea that the old man knew something that he didn't.

"Good bye, Professor," Draco said coldly. Dumbledore nodded at him again, the twinkle gone, and Draco quickly left the room.

"I guess someone had better go out after Harry," Draco hear the professor say to himself, as Draco was leaving. Silently, Draco vehemently disagreed. What ever had happened to his relatively perfect life must have somehow been caused by Potter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last thing on Harry's mind at that moment was Draco. In fact, nothing was on his mind at all. He was still asleep. However the morning noises of the town below and the light that filtered in through the top of the cave was causing Harry to stir.

His backbone was slightly disarranged under him on the couch he had slept on, and his black hair fell softly over his face, covering both his scar, and his left eye. With out his glasses on, Harry looked younger and frailer, and the tee-shirt that he had been wearing the day before was wrinkled on his shoulder and side, showing that he had tossed and turned during the night. But though he had tossed and turned, there was no sign that he had been awakened b a dream at all

This realization slowly dawned on Harry as the light crept into his eyes and he stretched, his back cracking loudly after the second night in a row of sleeping on an uneven surface. For a moment, Harry was unaware of where he was, or why he felt so hopeless. The room around him swam in and out of focus in his exhaustion, but all thought of sleep was instantly driven from his mind when he realized that the dream he had anticipated, expected even, had not come. He was no closer to finding Sirius that he had been at that time the day before.

Harry sat up and walked calmly across the room. He stood next to the large cabinet of food that he had taken his lunch from the day before and reached up as high as he could, placing both hands on the wooden frame. Then he shoved his hands away from his body with every ounce of strength in him and sent the heavy cabinet tumbling to the floor. Cans rolled everywhere, some bursting open upon impact and the smell of canned peaches and tuna fish filled the air. Boxes tumbled down too and the powdery contents of the half open ones turned quickly into a kind of sticky paste when mixing with the liquids of the cans. The cabinet itself collapsed upon impact and sent bits off food and wood from one side of the room to the other.

Harry bit back the tears that burned at the side of his eyes. Everything had been in vain. He had run away from the school, and the people who could possibly help him, because he had been afraid that they would hinder his own search for Peter. Now, alone in Hogsmeade he had no idea what to do. Perhaps when Voldemort had taken some of his blood the year before, that had broken the connection between them. Perhaps the letter had not yet reached Voldemort and so his anger would come later. And perhaps, most disheartening off all, the letter had arrived and someone, somewhere, was laughing over the attempts of a teenaged boy to rescue his godfather.

Even though he was half blinded by his grief and rage, Harry knew that he couldn't just run out into the world hoping that he would stumble across some clue of Peter's whereabouts. Such an action could be useless at best and fatal at worst. Finally, Harry decided that he would go to Sirius's trial in London and plead his godfather's case. There was the smallest, slightest chance that someone might believe his story, simply because he was Harry Potter.

He looked again around the cave. It was beginning to smell pretty badly. There was nothing he needed here.

Hoisting himself out of the cave, Harry headed down the hill and through the town to the Hogsmeade station. It wasn't until he got there, however, that he realized that there were two major flaws with his plan of going to Sirius's trial. First of all, he had no money for a ticket, and second of all, he had no idea where to go. Hurriedly, he fished Draco's letter out of his pocket and re-read the crumpled paper. The Ministry of Magic. That was where the trial was to be held. Harry might have guessed.

Harry had never been to the Ministry of Magic buildings. That couldn't be that difficult a thing to figure out, though. He walked up to the large board next to the ticket office, which gave the train schedule and scanned the list.

"Great," Harry thought to himself, dully, the one small blessing of the day did little to lighten his mood. "Train leaves directly for London in 20 minutes. The Ministry has to be in London..." his thoughts trailed off. Oh well, nothing to do but ask.

"Excuse me?" Harry said into the ticket booth. A screen separated him and the person inside, so they couldn't see each other. A small slot in the wall allowed for money to be passed in and out.

"Yes?" the voice of a young man replied. He sounded friendly enough. Harry's hopes rose.

"I was wondering if you could tell me when the next train leaves that will take me to the Ministry of Magic offices," Harry asked.

"Twenty minutes. The London station's closest if you want to walk or take a muggle transport after you get there. Apperating's much faster, though."

"Well if I could apperate, I wouldn't be at the train station," Harry said angrily under his breath. "How much?"

"20 Sickles, round trip," the young man replied.

"Well, I don't have any money right now, but if I get to London, I can get some money out of the bank--"

"Sorry, kid, no loans. Get your dad or mum to give you some money for a day trip, ok?"

"Please?" Harry begged, but the ticket-seller rode over him again.

"NO loans! Got it?"

Harry was about to turn away when he thought of something.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked, his voice a bit stronger than it was before. The ticket-seller upped his age guess for the kid trying to talk his way onto the train up a few years, but then realized he didn't care. He had better things to be doing. He was about to say so, but Harry didn't let him.

"I am Harry Potter. That's right, HARRY POTTER, the boy who lived. I need to get on that train and if you don't let me have a ticket to London, and innocent man is going to die. Will this be on your conscience? Will you be the one who stopped Harry Potter from saving an innocent life?" Harry was rather pleased with his little speech. Speaking in the third person also added to the fun of it. That was before he realized that the man in the ticket booth was laughing. A sort of thud made it sound like the man had fallen off his chair in his fits of laughter.

"Good one kid. Better luck next time," the man said, still choking with laughter. Harry didn't bother to respond. He turned away from the ticket booth to the apparently empty benches on the platform and sat with his head in his hands.

He was so absorbed in his own thoughts of his failure to Sirius, that he didn't notice the man behind him until the man grabbed Harry by the shoulder.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Remus awoke with the sunlight from the high window in the castle wall streaming down to his eyes. Instinctively, he glanced at the lunar calendar by his bed, his bones aching at the prospect of the change in less than two weeks. He rolled out of bed, and landed on all fours on the cold floor.

He quickly dressed and pulled on one of his nicer robes, hoping to do whatever possible to counter the stereotypes that people held against him because of his background. He would need every ounce of hope once he reached London if he were to make any headway in saving Sirius. Until he left for London, however, Remus wanted to talk to Arabella.

That was the plan, however, until he walked out of his bedroom and into his office. There, in front of his desk, sat Dumbledore.

"Albus," Remus started, surprised. "Why didn't you knock? I would have been quicker!"

"Don't worry, Remus, I have only been here a few minutes. I have a favor to ask of you."

Remus looked nonplused.

"I need you to go to Harry," Dumbledore said.

"You haven't gone after him yet? Or sent Minerva or... someone? You just left him out there, all night! Where is he anyway?" Lupin shouted angrily.

"Remus, do calm down. I did not just 'leave him out there.' I promise you. He is in the cave in Hogsmeade where Sirius stayed last year."

Lupin still looked skeptical, but no longer angry.

"As I was saying, I would like you to go to him. I dare say that young Harry will be making his way to the Hogsmeade train station before the first train leaves for London. A train you will be on anyway?" Dumbledore ended with a question, and Remus nodded his head.

"I was planning on apparating, but I can take the train if I'll be with Harry. May I take Harry to London with me?" Remus asked, as an after thought.

"I doubt you'd be able to get him to stay," Dumbledore said sagely, and then smiled.

"Do not look so tragic, Remus. I think everything will be alright in the end. Perhaps we should find some morning nourishment. I believe that Miss. Figg is waiting for you downstairs as well."

Remus nodded again, and this time followed the headmaster out of the office and down the stairs to the great hall and into the dining room. He didn't feel much like eating, but upon seeing Bella sitting at the staff table, loading a plate with grapefruit slices and toast for him, he sat down beside her anyway.

"Dumbledore wants me to find Harry and take him on the train to London for the trial," Remus told her, by way of greeting.

"I know," she smiled thinly. "I think I will stay here, though and apparate in just before the trial starts. "

Breakfast passed quickly, but not quickly enough for Remus, who wanted to find Harry as soon as possible. He knew that Sirius would have his head for letting Harry spend a night alone out of the protection of a trustworthy adult wizard. Every bite tasted like sand, but finally, the plate was empty, and Bella was looking at him expectantly, as if waiting for an answer.

"Sorry, what?" Lupin asked, confused. He hadn't heard her say a word.

"I asked," she said patiently. "If you want me to come down to the station with you."

"That's ok, Bella, I think I can make it." He smiled and kissed his fingertips and touched her nose, trying to let her know that he didn't feel at all awkward about the night before. Which, in fact, he didn't. She blushed, but smiled back, and Remus stood up.

"Ok dear, I'm off. I'll see you in London."

"Sirius's best friend and his godson. What a happy party you'll be," Bella said sadly. "Let's try and believe Albus. Something will come up, and it'll be all right. You'll see." Arabella felt a bit as if she were talking to a child, but as Remus looked slightly reassured, she decided it was alright.

Albus was no where to be seen, having finished his breakfast and left before anyone else, but Remus assumed that the semi-omnipotent headmaster would know that he had left. Once out of the school gates, Remus considered apparating to the station, but the walk was less than a mile and it was a nice day. At this point, he really wasn't in a hurry, as he needed to wait for Harry once he got to the station anyway. He just hoped that Harry would be there, as Dumbledore had assumed.

Remus reached the station quickly, and looked around for any sign of Harry. After a few moments, he decided that the boy wasn't there yet, having scanned the area near the tracks and ticket booth, and turned to the covered beaches to wait. There, sitting with hunched back and head in hands, sat a dark and forlorn figure, with crumpled clothing and jet black hair. Remus Lupin walked across the space that separated him and the boy and put his hand on Harry's shoulder.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After delivering Draco to the Headmaster, Snape had hurried down the numerous flights of stairs to the dungeons below and his own office. By charming a number of objects, small vials of potions, a knife, and, upon second thought, a small portkey back to Hogwarts, he was able to take everything he could possibly need for his excursion in the pocket of his robe. He then hung up his robe and prepared for bed. In order to be prepared to carry out his rather risky plan, he needed to get some sleep.

The next morning dawned cloudy and cold. Severus was often annoyed that Hogwarts was impossible to apparate out of or into. It made things especially difficult when he wanted to go somewhere where he was not expected. The portkeys that were given to the staff were useful for coming back, but unless someone had a port key to get where they were going as well, they still had to walk into Hogsmeade to apparate.

He returned to the Great Hall from the dungeons on the way out of the school. If he had had any doubts about what he was about to do, they instantly vanished when he remembered the conversation that he had held here with Remus just hours ago and the look on Draco's face when he came down from his dormitory. With one final look around, Severus stepped out onto the grounds, wondering if he was about to make the second biggest mistake of his life.

The walk through the grounds and past the large gates that marked the boundary of the school was much to short, and Severus's all purpose look of distaste has firmly settled itself on his face. He fingered the items in his pocket, careful to avoid the portkey, and invoked the spell that would take him to the Malfoy manor. The air made a small clap as it filled the space where Severus had been standing a moment ago.

He had a split second impression of shapes and colors flying past, and then found himself standing outside of an all-to-familiar iron gate with a large 'M' soldered into it. Severus knew the routine and touched the tip of his wand to the center of the letter and then wondered why he had brought his own wand.

"Oh well," he thought to himself. "They'll find out soon enough anyway."

He waited for a few minutes, then began to get nervous. What if Lucius simply enacted one of the many defensive mechanisms of the gate and killed him then? Suddenly, the gate creaked open, and Severus walked slowly towards the Malfoy Manor.

He reached the door and it opened before him, without his having to touch the ornately carved wood. Stepping inside, he heard a voice in front of him, and Lucius Malfoy stood at the base of the stairway, dressed immaculately in green and black with the Dark Mark winking at Severus from Lucius's arm.

"Severus," Lucius said coldly. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now."

"You know why you haven't killed me yet," Severus answered with disdain. "You hope I have information for you. You hope I've come back."

"And you haven't?" Lucius asked lightly, raising his wand.

"I've come back. It's no coincidence that I chose to return after hearing of your wife's murder," Severus said in the same voice. He thought he detected a slight smirk in Lucius's features, and he thought again of Draco, but Lucius's features quickly rearranged themselves to anger.

"So you plan to take advantage me while I am weak?" Lucius wondered.

"I simply came to give my regrets and to say that perhaps I picked the murderous side after all," Severus said through clenched teeth.

Lucius weighed the information in his mind. He seriously doubted that Severus had come back to their side, although he would have much useful information if he had. Lucius himself could not be harmed within the Manor and if Severus cast any malicious curses, the Manor itself would fire enough curses to destroy a team of auror's right back. However, even if Severus had not come back to join their side, Lucius might be able to get sufficient information out of the traitor before killing him. They not only would he have news to present to You-Know-Who, but he would be able to bring Severus's body as well.

"Come into the living room, Severus," Lucius said, his voice was completely emotionless and Severus wondered again if he oughtn't bolt from the manor right then. Instead, his face as emotionless as Lucius's words, Severus followed.

"Sit," Lucius gestured.

Severus sat. Lucius remained standing. For an endless time, neither man said anything. Finally, Lucius, as if content that Severus wasn't about to start cursing him, a belief supported by the fact that the former death eater didn't even seem to have his wand, sat as well and rang a small bell sitting on a table. The bell magically resounded throughout the entire house.

"Under normal circumstances, I would have my wife serve us, but in this situation, that appears to be impossible," Lucius said as if making a joke. "Instead, we will have to deal with-- ah, here he is."

Peter Pettigrew stepped into the room. Severus forced his face to remain expressionless. Pettigrew looked at Severus and gave a small squeak.

"Lucius! What is he doing here?" Peter tried to say with disdain, completely failing to mask the fear in his voice.

"Where did you drag this slime up?" Severus asked, remembering that he was supposed to believe, along with the rest of the world, that Peter was dead.

"Rats survive situations that would be most troubling to many other creatures; poison, drowning, arrest, even death, so it seems," Lucius replied blandly. Severus, not fool enough to fall into that trap rearranged his face into an expression of mild confinement and replied, "I have no idea what you are talking about, Lucius."

Lucius nodded slightly, as if pleased and said, "No matter, I'm sure it will all become clear once you have officially returned to our ranks. Peter, get our guest and myself something to drink."

Peter looked as if he was about to argue, but Lucius looked daggers at the pudgy man and Peter sullenly turned away. They could hear him muttering to himself halfway down the hall.

"I must find myself someone else to help around here now that Narcissa's gone," Lucius commented. The silence dragged out, and became so palpable that Snape felt he could almost see it, weaving a net that was slowly suffocating him. He slid his right foot up his left one.

Finally, they could hear Peter shuffling along back down the hall towards them, the tell-tale sounds of china cups full of liquid giving his presence away almost as much as the continued muttering.

Peter entered the doorway and looked up at the men in the room, taking his eyes off the plate he was carrying. Severus stared right back at him. Something in Severus's eyes made Peter falter, and in that moment, everything happened.

Peter tilted the plate forward, the cups and tea leaning precariously towards the magnificent carpet below. Severus, under the pretense of aiding Peter rushed forward, but in a swift motion, reached down and grabbed the wand that he had hidden in the top of his left boot. Before Lucius had realized what was happening, Severus had stunned Peter and the entire plate came crashing to the floor along with the body of Peter, whose eyes were wide with fright. Lucius reached for his wand at the same time that the walls of the room started sending out an assortment of creative curses that were meant to cause as much pain as possible before killing the victim and added to the medley of spells flying though the air. Severus, realizing the number of spells flying through the air toward him somersaulted forward, an amazingly agile move for a man his age, and halfway through the roll, grabbed his wand in his mouth, reached out one hand to hold the collar of Peter's robes, and with the other find the portkey in his pocket.

Merely seconds after Peter Pettigrew had entered the room, the curses collided with a explosion of fireworks right where Severus was standing. But by that time, Severus, and Pettigrew were gone.