Remus Lupin and the Revolt of the Creatures

Chapter Six: The Protection of Law

While allowing himself the triumph, Remus admitted that he could not have succeeded in controlling the beast without Hedwig - and Harry. He had not been sure if both Hedwig herself and Harry could overcome the fear that a werewolf in the wolf form would hurt an owl. Hedwig's sudden presence itself, combined with the knowledge of Harry's trust and compassion, had influenced Remus powerfully enough to restore his humanity at the last moment.

What had finally saved his mind in the transformation? It had not been his own determination or the careful preparation, whereas no outsider could have saved him alone either. More clearly than ever, having struggled since his childhood to maintain and develop his humanity, and facing the continuous challenge in his disorder, Remus now realised what humanity really was.

His humanity was not in him alone but in him when he interacted with others.

***

"To be honest, it is not easy at all to start talking about this." Remus was standing next to Hedwig's cage and gazing at the sleeping owl, looking for support from her in vain, for once.

Even Phineas Nigellus was absent. Harry had hung the magic mirror in front of the painting to make sure Nigellus would feel too awkward to stay and disturb their meeting in case he happened to drop by.

The painting had not become completely abandoned, because Harry often took the mirror down to play with it together with Ron. The mirror came up with a new insult every time anybody looked into it, so the boys did not get bored with it. They had started writing down the best mockery and learning suitable replies. "We're getting ready to meet our Slytherin friends", they said. That could be counted as one useful achievement, while Remus felt he should have done a lot more to help Harry.

He finally turned around. Harry was standing in front of his bed - and now bent to smooth the coverlet, effectively avoiding any chance for eye contact. Perhaps Harry thought they were supposed to talk about Sirius.

"No, it's not what you think... I mean what I think you think. No, I'm being ridiculous. And I intended to sound like a professional teacher. This is what I want to talk about : your training. Nothing about the past. I just found your future prospects hard enough to start talking about."

"But that's all right. That's fine. I've wished I had somebody to talk about that." Harry sat down on the bed.

Remus pulled a chair closer opposite to him. "I'm the only one besides you yourself whom Dumbledore let know the full contents of the prophecy. So it's my duty to offer you any help you want. Of course, I'd like to do it in any case. I wish I could be your teacher at Hogwarts. I can't, but we've still have got a few days left. I hope you won't hesitate to tell me how you feel. We can also write letters. But I've allowed us to waste too much time, so I'd like to get to the point now. To the practical part of it, too. Although I believe that you actually need theory to adapt it to any unexpected situation. But you can tell me now what you think you need."

Remus had tried his best to get efficient and he now stared at Harry, demanding a reaction, looking forward to interpreting it so as to find out how prepared Harry was for the challenge. And he wasn't disappointed.

If Harry had got relieved after his first explanation, he now looked more and more eager and curious. Although it was evidently hard to formulate a reply, Harry went straight to the point and started drawing conclusions. "I need to defeat Voldemort. Do I need to kill him? Do I need to learn new ways of killing? In any case I need to learn how to survive... to study more defensive magic at least." Harry appeared quite calm when contemplating the problem.

Remus could not prevent a melancholy smile from revealing his pity for the boy. "I hope we'll have a chance to discuss the first issue deeply. You'll have to find the answer. I can help you by asking more questions. Is there an alternative to killing him? In any case, before anyone teaches you how to kill, I'd like to concentrate on defence. I believe that it's not yet time for you to vanquish Voldemort. He may try to kill you before the due time. You are meant to be protected still. But the fate needs us to do our share. That's why you have been kept at the Dursleys' and here. I can have a humble role as your teacher. And the decisive role is yours. I told you a long time ago not to gamble with your life, and I'm proud to see that you take things more seriously now."

Remus managed not to say it, but he was, of course, also sad to see it, knowing that it was the result of the tragedies Harry had suffered at the end of both his fourth and fifth year at school. They stayed quiet for a while, gazing at each other, and Remus knew that Harry understood what another almost apologising smile implied.

"So if you don't mind, we'll start with defence. At least with defining your needs, so you can gain the most advantage from your studies with your new Defence teacher, whoever it will be. And maybe practising one or two new spells here."

"But I'm not allowed to do magic outside Hogwarts."

Remus now smiled genuinely, admitting, "I would have said that, too, if I were you. But don't worry about that. The ministry can't interfere in what anybody does at our headquarters. I don't advise you to break the law without considering it carefully and consulting somebody, let's say Dumbledore or me first. I'm also consulting you now. Do you think it's important enough and not too risky to start practising?"

Harry nodded, looking serious, then excited, and exclaimed, as if surprised that he had not thought of it before, "Hermione did do magic at my birthday party!"

"And she did it publicly. It's quite normal. In certain circles the community makes up its own rules. Do you think Minister Fudge follows every paragraph of the laws? Well, that's another topic, which I hope we'll have the chance to deal with later. But now tell me: Did you learn anything from your unqualified Defence teacher last year?"

"Yeah...It's hard to say what..."

To Remus's astonishment Harry started pondering with a frown and an odd expression on his face. He had only heard that Mrs Umbridge from the ministry had, instead of teaching, concentrated on harassing both the students and other teachers with her decrees which forbade student activities, and by inspecting and interfering in the work of the teachers. She had refused to give any practical lessons. On the other hand Harry had both practised his old defence skills and developed his skills of leadership and teaching in a secret club, which he had founded with his friends in order to defy Umbridge.

"In DA - our club, you know, Dumbledore's Army - I revised what I had learnt from you and from Moody, I mean Crouch, who was pretending to be Moody. Without Umbridge I would have just played Quidditch instead. But maybe I learnt something new from her, too... I've been thinking about it. At the Dursleys'. So maybe I got it wrong... I never told McGonagall or Dumbledore, so maybe... But it would be just waste of time. It's not what you meant. Could you just teach me some such defence as Voldemort and Dumbledore..." Harry had started rubbing the back of his right hand while continuing absentmindedly.

Remus bent forward, took the hand and tried to catch Harry's eyes. "What is it?"

"Look at it. Read it." Harry had taken a deep breath and he now looked down at his right hand, which Remus was holding.

Remus quickly moved to sit beside Harry so as to examine carefully what looked like writing in thin white lines on the back of Harry's hand."I must not tell lies... But these are scars! What is this?" In sudden anguish the muscles in his throat contracted, so he mustered only a whisper, "She tortured you."

"No, not that. Not only that..." Harry sounded astonished, as if he had realised the truth only now when finally telling somebody. "She made me do it. She forced me to torture myself."

Before Remus managed to say anything Harry continued quickly, pouring it all out, "I declared in front of her that Voldemort had come back and killed Cedric. She made me write lines... She had me in detention every night of the first week and the second week. I had to write for hours, until after midnight. She just gave me this weird quill: it used my blood as ink. It cut the wound open again and again until the scars didn't disappear, and the last nights it didn't stop bleeding. I didn't say anything - to her or anyone. Ron saw it, and Hermione prepared murtlap essence to ease the pain. But I refused to talk to anyone else about it... I didn't want her to think that I was so weak... So why am I telling you now? I'm being silly. It's got nothing to do with the training."

Harry had glanced up and certainly seen the tears which Remus felt brimming his eyes. Remus was still holding the hand and could not help feeling strange joy mixed with the distress. Harry was confiding in him - after hiding his pain from every other adult.

"No, Harry... Thank you for telling me about this. It is important for the training, too. You said you learnt something from her, didn't you?"

"Yes. But I certainly hope it's not what she wanted to teach me. Not to tell lies - I already knew that. From her I learnt to refrain from speaking the truth when it does more harm than good. And... I guess... I learnt to torture myself."

Remus sighed and covered his eyes with his hand so as to gain some time to think what to say, but decided to reveal his thoughts as they proceeded. "I'm not sure you did the right thing not denouncing her to Dumbledore. I understand you were too proud, and not used to trusting any adult. You must have also thought that nobody could have done anything to stop her. Or maybe you didn't realise how serious it was. I know that not all the other teachers are always fair to the students. But even Snape would not violate anybody in this way, not even you. Or has he done it? You must tell me." He looked up abruptly.

Harry only shook his head.

Revealed, Remus continued quietly, almost to himself, "I wonder if Dumbledore knew about it all the time. It always surprises me more if he doesn't know about something. Do you know where Dolores Umbridge is now? After running away from Hogwarts she just returned to her position at the ministry. There's been no charge against her. The system could make a trial against her impossible simply because she herself works in the law enforcement, as I think she does, although I'm not sure which position she holds now. I hope you don't mind if I talk about this with Dumbledore, because Umbridge's offences don't concern you alone. But it seems Dumbledore thinks there is no chance to make her answer for anything she's done."

As a result of these thoughts Remus could not help doubting more seriously the chances of his own case against the Head of the Aurors' Office. But he had to concentrate on Harry now.

"Do you know what that quill was made for? Centuries ago such quills were made by such wizards who were bold enough to claim to become better than others simply by depriving themselves of the pleasures of life. They spent their days and nights willingly torturing themselves by writing down principles of righteousness with their own blood. While nobody benefited in any way from it, they declared themselves holy. But even they would not have expected anybody to have the endurance to use the quill by order without protesting. Harry, I admire you, but I'm happy you've finally told me. And I'm advising you never to torture yourself uselessly."

Harry nodded with an embarrassed smile. "I think I'm happy I told you, too. But can we now get to the point, the defence spells?"

Overwhelmed by affection and pride, Remus found it hard to keep up a businesslike tone. "All right. You know I could lecture for hours on the theoretical principles behind the kind of magic that I'd like to suggest you learn. But there's been enough talking this afternoon, so let me start with a demonstration. And until tomorrow's lesson you can ponder the basis of this type of defence. Then after discussing it with me, you can decide if you want to proceed in this direction, at least as one alternative way of defence. Have you got your wand?"

When standing up and pulling out his own wand, Remus recalled Miss Emeline's soothing magic, realising that it actually followed the same principle as this defence, albeit not applied in battle. His pride in this deepened understanding added to his exalted pleasure in the opportunity to practise his skills with Harry.

He stepped away to the window and motioned Harry towards the door. "Now try to stun me!"

Harry had lifted his wand eagerly, but he now lowered it again. "Are you sure about this?"

Remus laughed in his exaltation. "You are right to doubt this is safe for me. We both know that you are a greater wizard than me. But when I'm aware of your attack coming, I can give you my own surprise. And you should trust me when I say it won't harm you either. Come on!"

Harry clearly forced himself to ignore both his concern and curiosity. In a surprisingly powerful and determinate voice he exclaimed, "Stupefy!"

Suppressing the desire to stop for too long to admire the power of the violation aimed at him, Remus waved his wand in a quick twist. "Rafinarisma!"

The red light in front of him turned into purple glow and then sped back to Harry in pale blue arrows. Harry tried to dodge, but the arrows spread to catch him, and in an instant he was on his knees, smiling blissfully.

"Do you want to try it again?" Remus said, stepping to Harry and kneeling down in front of him.

"Yes, if you want... No, I can't. I can't even pretend to harm you or anybody. What did you do to me?" Harry shook his head. "I can't even imagine I would try to hurt Voldemort. Life is a blessing. He can live in peace with us. What did you do? You don't want me to learn to kill him?"

"No, that was not what I meant. If you want to practise this spell next time, you can do it to me. I'll remove the effect now, restoring your realistic mind."

Standing up to gain some distance, Remus pointed his wand at Harry again and said, "Realismos."

Harry bent forward and was suddenly looking for his wand on the floor, as if getting ready to continue the duel.

"Until tomorrow, think about what happened. Now let's go downstairs to see if the dinner is ready, or to help prepare it. Aren't you hungry? I am always."

***

On the following morning Remus woke up too early again. Mrs Porchead had returned the mattress to him, and under her quilt he was more than warm enough, so he decided to allow his body to enjoy the rest it still direly needed after the transformation. But he was unable to get back to sleep and stayed staring into the darkness.

He still doubted he was the right person to teach anything to Harry. He himself had always ended up as the victim. He had never attacked his enemies and often not even defended himself. This summer he had offered himself as a victim to the werewolves as well as to the dragon. What a pathetic creature he was, a wolf trying to be a vegetarian! Dumbledore had known him well enough to plan that he would be a perfect victim to bring a case against the new disputable decree to the Wizengamot.

But he also seriously doubted that the law could offer any protection. Sirius had never been given any kind of a trial.

After the encounter between Sirius and Peter - following the murders of James and Lily - which had led to the deaths of twelve muggles, Sirius had been taken to Azkaban and kept there in continuous torture for twelve years without any chance to publicly plead not guilty or even to talk to his close ones. And when - more than two years ago - three teenagers and a werewolf had witnessed Peter's confession, Sirius had still got no alternative to continued hiding. Snape had denied having heard anything to make him doubt Sirius's culpability. The sentence to a Dementor's kiss would have been enforced, had Sirius not escaped again with the help of Harry and Hermione.

Maybe that was one reason why Harry had lost the absolute trust in Dumbledore, which had still in his second year at Hogwarts brought Fawkes the Phoenix to help him against Voldemort's image in dark magic. Only this summer had Dumbledore confessed to Harry that essential information had been hidden from the Boy Who Lived himself. And the fact that even Dumbledore could not have helped Sirius two years earlier must have already guided Harry back to his suspicious attitude towards adults. Such an attitude was probably deeply rooted in his childhood experiences of abuse and deprivation.

But Remus continued to lay the blame on himself for Sirius having not been declared innocent then, more than two years earlier. What a misfortune it was that Sirius had finally got the chance to capture Peter only at a night of a full moon.

While waiting for Snape to bring his last portion of wolfsbane potion before the transformation, Remus had noticed the names of the two of them together with the three children's on the Marauder's Map, and then he had simply followed them to the Shrieking Shack. Had he forgotten the risk that the situation might not have been solved before the moon's final effect? It had been hard enough to maintain any level of control over the aggression - fortified in him by the moon - against the traitor, while he had got confused by the surprise of the appearance of Peter, who had allegedly died twelve years earlier in Sirius's hands.

Then the unexpected twist in the situation, the realisation that Sirius was innocent and had suffered such a terrible punishment in place of Peter, who in reality had betrayed James and Lily - all this had evidently upset a part of Remus's self-control. He had managed to explain it all to Harry, Hermione and Ron, but he had also been ready to become a murderer. After Harry had saved him from the most terrible fate by stopping him and Sirius from killing Peter, he should have understood that it was too late for him to accompany them all to the castle.

If he had decided to stay behind, Peter could have been taken to witness for Sirius's innocence. But, alas, he had been careless! The excitement had made him ignore the ache spreading from his insides, and while finally tormented by the pain, he had still hoped that they would make it to the castle in time. He had transformed outside on the grounds of Hogwarts when attached to Peter with a handcuff.

Probably thanks to the preceding deeply significant interaction and especially Sirius's presence, he had, in fact, been able to keep and control his mind even without the last portion of the potion. He had not wanted to hurt anybody, but just to follow Peter and to prevent him from escaping in the rat form. Sirius had apologised afterwards for not trusting Remus and for attacking him, thus giving Peter enough time to disappear. Still, Remus could not stop blaming himself.

Because of his mistake he had volunteered to leave his job, which had meant so much to him in so many respects. Yet, he had not felt that even the deprivation in which he had lived through most of the following year had been an adequate punishment for spoiling Sirius's chances to be rehabilitated. Sirius had sent a few messages with exotic birds from somewhere south, and in the winter finally with owls from somewhere not so far away, but still without revealing his exact whereabouts, and still turning down Remus's offers to join him. Both Sirius and Dumbledore had told Remus to stay in London, where they might still need him.

But mainly they had not needed him any more than any employers in town had. Repeatedly during the winter he had wished he could have simply disapparated to settle in a warmer place.

Still, Sirius's arrival had been worth waiting for. In June after Voldemort had gained his body with Harry's unfortunate participation, Sirius had finally come, following Dumbledore's order to alert Remus among others who were left of the fellowship, and to hide at his place for a while. But he had also dropped by once earlier, late in the winter, on his way towards the village of Hogsmeade to watch over Harry in the Triwizard Tournament.

***

Remus could still remember clearly the mental but predominantly physical misery he had felt when returning home on that bitterly cold evening.

In despair, having once again failed in finding work, shivering in his thin robes and worn cloak, nearly too weak from malnutrition to walk any farther, he felt relief when finally turning to his home street. At that moment he discerned the dark shape next to the steps of Mrs Porchead's building and stopped in mixed hope and disbelief.

He gathered the rest of his strength and rushed to kneel on the icy pavement to hug the big shaggy black dog. Trembling and sobbing, he did not want to let go, but Padfoot - albeit wagging his tail - broke free and leaped the steps up so as to ask him to open the door. With his numb fingers he fumbled in his pocket for the key and his wand, and was hardly able to break all charms and open all locks with which Mrs Porchead insisted on protecting her premises.

Up in his room, where it was at least a bit less cold than outside, he managed to conjure a couch, while Padfoot changed into Sirius the man. Remus could not resist the temptation to embrace him again, but made it brief this time so as to let him throw himself on the couch. Only for a moment, while charming an old tin jar to start emitting warm radiation, was he able to take his eyes off his friend, though.

Sirius was wearing tattered dirty robes, the same as in the previous summer and probably ever since his escape from Azkaban almost a year before that. But he looked less gaunt than the previous time Remus had seen him, probably even less than Remus himself at the moment.

"Should I have warned you that I was coming?" Sirius asked in a hoarse voice, grinning and throwing his long matted mane from his face with a sudden movement of his head.

Remus adored this combination of a doglike natural gesture and Sirius's old gracefully conscious manner of charming anybody who saw him. "Maybe you should have. I'm afraid I have nothing to offer with tea. And no tea either."

He poured some water from a container, which he had filled in the bathroom, to a kettle and tapped at it twice with his wand. The water immediately started steaming with an enticing fragrance of chicken soup. "I regret it's only an illusion of food, but the warmth is real. And you can smell and taste the water as if you were nourishing yourself."

After summoning another chipped bowl from the corner, and pouring the water into it and into the one on the desk, he gave one bowl to Sirius and sat down at the other end of the couch. Holding a hot bowl in his both hands and stretching his legs towards the radiating jar on the floor, he felt some warmth slowly returning to his body. But his insides were been aching with hunger, refusing to be fooled by magic tricks any longer after a few days with no real food.

Sirius, however, let out a pleased bark-like laughter, "What you can offer is exactly what I've missed. As Padfoot, when've been looking for you in this neighbourhood where people leave their garbage on the streets, I've got something to eat easily enough. But the taste of the food has not always been that great. It's also been an advantage to have a thick fur. You don't seem to be so well-off."

"You are right. I can wear a fur only one night a month, and at that night I have serious limitations in what I allow myself to eat."

Sirius gazed at him for a moment with an expression which almost revealed some concern. Then he laughed louder. "Look at us! Who'd believe we used to be the top students! And the Marauders! We just have to prove ourselves that we are still Marauders. We must be able to make up a plan to ease this misery."

Remus smiled and burst into a mixture of laughing and crying, trying to hide the tears. He wanted Sirius to see that he really believed he was able to make it, as long as they were together.

That night he woke up once, realising that he was holding the dog instead of Sirius the man, with whom he had fallen asleep in a tight embrace to keep each other warm under the thin blanket. He wondered why Sirius had transformed. Had he wanted to escape too much intimacy or to gain some more warmth? Or was he too used to spending most of the time in dog form, so he was unable to keep his man form unless in full consciousness? After fixing the radiating jar, which always went off during the night, he fell asleep again - and woke up at the first dim light of dawn to see that even the dog was gone.

He was sure that Sirius had decided to continue his way towards Hogsmeade immediately, without hearing more of his friend's pleading that they stay together. He did not care to seek any strength in himself to move even to fix the radiating jar again.

At that moment Sirius apparated in the middle of the room. Remus struggled to stop tears of relief from bursting out. But just Sirius slammed a heavy sack on the makeshift desk, which almost collapsed, and strode to the bed He pulled the blanket from Remus, jumped in and wrapped the blanket around himself, pushing Remus out and barking, "My turn to sleep! Make us some breakfast."

Turning his gaze from Sirius to the desk, Remus could already smell the food. Besides fresh bread and grilled chicken the sack was filled with such foodstuff that would stay good for a long time, like smoked meat, flour and dried fruits.

"What have you done!" he managed to say, hardly resisting the temptation to start eating without a word.

"You sound like McGonagall! Just take the fresh food out and make some tea. Have you got any glasses? There's a flask of pumpkin juice, too, the same they have at Hogwarts. Wake me up, if I fall asleep before the breakfast is ready." Sirius closed his eyes, but the grin stayed on his face.

Remus started eating a roll of bread while summoning the plates, glasses and mugs, and preparing tea in the kettle and heating the chicken with his wand. By the time he was conjuring a chair on each side of the desk Sirius got up and joined him.

"What do we have today?" Sirius asked, sitting down. "Transfiguration and Care of Magical Creatures? I'm afraid I've skipped a few classes, but I shouldn't have problems in Transfiguration, if I could just get my wand back."

"Was it taken from you in your detention? You can borrow mine. But you must help me with my Care of Magical Creatures essay. I thought I learnt enough about werewolves in Defence, but now we're supposed to write about how to feed them. What do they actually eat?"

"Let's make an experiment. Do they drink pumpkin juice?"

It must have been the most wonderful breakfast Remus had ever had. But as he soon needed to give a break to his stomach, which was not used to so much food, he ventured to ask again, "Where did you get all this?"

Sirius took another swig of pumpkin juice before answering. "What is this interrogation? Are you not going to say thank you! No, just kidding. You could have come to get it yourself with me, but you looked tired and it was easier not to be spotted, when I was alone."

"What do you mean? Did you...?"

"Yes, I robbed a grocery store. And a bakery."

"You... you are not serious!"

"Yes, that's who I am! I thought you knew me."

"But, ser... honestly, you can get caught if you do something like that! You must not attract attention in any way. And you have enough trouble even without becoming a criminal!"

"Don't worry so much! What difference does it make if someone stigmatised like me - or you - commits a minor crime like this one. Seriously, you must stop respecting the law so much. Or can you claim to believe there's justice in this society? After twelve years in Azkaban I should know if there is or not." Sirius's expression suddenly hardened but he continued in a faster tempo, "Even if someone had a fair trial and was proved guilty, it would not be fair to punish him with that continuous torture. You know, I've thought about Harry's decision concerning the rat. Harry can't be blamed, but I think he was wrong, and on different grounds than what I could think of at that moment. What the rat deserves is to be killed after he's had a chance to repent. To kill him would have been closer to justice than handing him over to the Dementors. Of course, I'm not promising to treat him justly when I find him."

Sirius grabbed another piece of chicken and tore it aggressively with his teeth. Having got his mouth half empty, he continued, "Sorry. I wanted to talk about you. Listen, Remus, I'll be on my way and you must remember this. You must be ready to defy those who claim to be righteous but persecute the innocent. I know you. You've always wanted to help people in trouble and to support reconciliation and peace - and justice. You may have thought that justice follows from peace and obedience to rules. But you should know better now. You'll starve to death, if you don't take the law in your own hands. How do you think you can help anybody, if what those with power call justice deprives you of every chance to satisfy even your basic needs? I've always known how rotten this system is. How else could it be, when families like mine have the power? You must oppose all that even on your own, when I'm gone."

***

Afterwards, during the year they lived together in Sirius's house at Grimmauld Place, they had gone through the same issues in numerous conversations. But the memory of how Sirius had for the first time provoked him to rebellion against the law and authority seriously, and not only for the fun of it, and of how pathetic his own role had been in that situation, now moved Remus more strongly than any argument ever.

This was a possible explanation for Sirius having not left anything to him in the will: Sirius had certainly been mischievous enough to plan to force him into a situation with no choice.

Could it be that Dumbledore was plotting the same? Perhaps that was why he enjoyed examining Remus's reactions. For the time being Dumbledore was reconciled with Remus the victim. But he made no initiative to prevent him from reaching the conclusion that becoming a revolutionary was the only real option.

***

"You've got alternatives, Harry. Just keep them open and keep yourself safe, until it's time to make your choice. Dumbledore believes you'd better not bring a charge against Umbridge now. She's still high in Fudge's favour, and now that Fudge accepts those facts about Voldemort which you've provided proof for, Dumbledore doesn't want to risk the unity and consensus between the ministry and the Order. You'd better be part of that unity. Still, I wouldn't advise you to accept everything Fudge does. That is in case you want to keep open the chance for good relations with the rest of the magical world. But the decision will be yours. I can foresee a revolt, and it may not be easy for some of us to choose our sides." Remus sighed and forced himself to stop speculating. It was enough to offer these few words for Harry to think about in the unsure times to come, so he would not have to build his own view on one-sided information. "To get to the practical part of it... I've had my personal reasons to develop the kind of defence I demonstrated yesterday. But the point is now what it means to you. How do you feel about it?"

Harry was sitting cross-legged on his bed, fiddling with his wand. "It seemed pretty effective to me. You didn't only stop the spell, but made me unable to continue the duel. And, still, you didn't do any harm to me."

"Exactly. That's the style of what we could call... a vegetarian wolf." Remus couldn't help mocking himself and he laughed before putting it more precisely, "Of a pacifist."

"Well... it looks like an alternative, if we believe that I'm not supposed to kill yet but just stay alive. And maybe it suits my style... my character, too. You know, I wasn't able to use the Cruciatus Curse even against Bellatrix Lestrange, not even right after..."

The thought of Harry having even tried to use the Cruciatus Curse made Remus frown, and he actually hoped that Harry noticed it. He felt obliged to stray from the point. "I hope you remember that your teacher in your fourth year was, in fact, a Death Eater in disguise and not a member of the Order. Concerning the Unforgivable Curses I would still advise you to respect the law - and in its original form."

Harry's already embarrassed expression seemed to grow more so and he muttered, "So is it not a weakness not to be able to..?"

"What is considered weaknesses varies. As far as I understand, my weakness is the strength of the instinct to commit such evil deeds. That's why this magic is actually the same as what I have tried to learn to do with myself. To take the evil in me and turn it into good. I know what Dumbledore said to you about your greatest strength. It's up to you, of course, whether you consider it a weakness instead. This type of defence is up to your attitude, too. And I wonder if it will function really effectively unless you are devoted to the way of thinking. It depends on whether you want reconciliation, or fomenting of dissensions."

Talking to one student - one with whom he felt such a close emotional contact emerging - made it difficult for Remus to stay on a concrete level in his lecture. He struggled to make it more comprehensible for Harry.

"You could explore your own reaction to... let's say a school mate's attacks. Or first think about the replies you and Ron have planned to the mirror's mockeries. When do you provoke it to continue, and when do you render it speechless? And which do you think is better? And if a school mate happens to try to hex you outside a classroom, you'll have a chance to practice an actual spell - to refine the hex while reflecting it back to him. What do you say: shall we start with something less serious than a stunning spell?"

Harry had stopped playing with the wand and now stared at Remus in apparent disbelief. "Do you mean that if Malfoy wants to hex me to vomit snakes, I can turn him into believing that we can live in peace?"

"Not exactly. This is transactional magic. It means that the effect of your spell depends on the quality and the strength of the original violation, on your own intention and the wand movement, and on the circumstances in which the two spells interact. You can control the result better, if you take a passing moment to evaluate the enemy's act before reacting, but then you have to be quick. And the movement of Rafinarisma is never simple, while the incantation is always the same. The quality of the movement is a highly personal issue, though. So if you are sure of your attitude, it quickly becomes more and more natural."

Harry sighed. "I wish I had Hermione to make notes with her new style of summing up."

"Sorry," Remus said, grinning. "I got carried away. Let's take an example and do it in practice. Shall we pretend I am Draco Malfoy trying to make you vomit snakes? How would you imagine that as turned into good?"

"Turn it into butterflies?" Harry suggested lightly.

His quickness and unhesitating manner of participating, regardless of the confusion caused by the theory delighted Remus. "Excellent. His mouth may fill with butterflies and be unable to pronounce a bad spell or a bad word of any kind. This is the level to start with. You won't try to change his attitude yet, just his ability to express it."

Remus stood up and motioned Harry towards the door again, while he continued to explain, "You can take the role of the defendant now immediately, after I have demonstrated with myself. While in the other role I can guide you until you find your way of doing it. The incantation part is simple. Just say it softly with a good intention to have your enemy use decent language. Repeat after me please: Rafinarisma!"

"Rafinarisma!" Harry said in a benevolent tone, looking into Remus's eyes.

It was definitely not difficult to give positive feedback to this student. Remus felt a wide smile flash spontaneously on his face. "Outstanding! And in the wand movement you express your interpretation of butterflies born from the snakes. I'll first help you by showing the kind of snake which my hex would make appear, so you can react to that, although you won't see it in the duel. Remember that this is a mere image of a snake."

Stretching his arm and pointing his wand towards his own mouth, Remus hissed quietly, "Serpensortia."

He felt a convulsion in his throat and he lifted his left palm under his mouth so as to receive a slender black snake twice the length of his hand. He looked up to see Harry wince in terror or at least in disgust.

Anticipating the next convulsion he quickly pointed his wand at his palm and mouth and pronounced gently and lightly, "Rafinarisma."

The wand movement was not too easy to perform with the position of his wand towards himself, but he did his best to express the agility of a creature released from a reptile form to flutter freely. The snake on his palm spread two crumpled black wings and fluttered towards the window. He opened his mouth to set a tickling group of dark moths free as well.

"Well, they are butterflies albeit not so pretty. Anyway, I wish I could scold at myself now, but I can't. You see, I didn't really plan this lesson carefully enough. Can you see what the problem is?"

"You can't say bad words now, can you?" Harry suggested, with the edges of his mouth expressing uncertain amusement.

"No, I am now unable to pronounce the snake hex again for you to practise how to refine it. Unless, of course, you can repeat the spell, which I used yesterday to restore your realistic mind. Nobody can do that to himself. An open straight movement and the incantation was..."

"Realismos," said Harry pointing his wand in a simple movement towards Remus.

"Thanks, I think it worked, even if now I don't feel like scolding at anybody. Excellent, Harry. You've just adapted a new spell in a real and unexpected situation. Okay, are you ready to be hexed?"

Harry's face had lit up in increased confidence. "Yes. You mean I can react immediately without stopping to evaluate anything first?"

"Yes, you can. Or you can take a moment with no need to worry. If you don't manage to refine or even reflect the hex in time, I'll refine the effect myself either on me or on you, as I just did. Now... Serpensortia!"

"Rafinarisma."

At the same moment Remus felt tickling in his throat, and he could not praise Harry, before he had let a whole flock of moths out of his mouth. "Very well done, Harry. This doesn't seem hard at all for you. Would you like to try once more, though? To make the butterflies even less like dark creatures."

"Maybe it's going to be more difficult with Malfoy."

"Yes, when you are facing an enemy who really wants to harm you, it won't be so easy for you to have good intentions towards him. Now please make me capable of hexing again."

***

By dinner time Harry had filled the ceiling with colourful butterflies. He looked up, smiling and not managing to hide his pride. "Will they stay up there?"

"For a few days, I think," Remus replied. "Even though - or maybe because - they are only images. This magic is related to transfiguration. But you just turn an image into another. Remember that you have not created any butterflies."

"But I've learnt that magic is real."

"Magic is real, and especially real to you, as you've got a great talent in it. But the things achieved by magic have got their shortcomings."

***

On the 29^th of August, two days before the time set for the trial, Remus received an owl from the ministry. The letter was addressed to "Werewolf Remus Jaws Lupin" and it included a bill of twenty-five Galleons.

In order to have an indictment prosecuted in the Wizengamot on the basis of your demand for legal action, please pay the amount stated above as a guarantee for the payment of the expenses of the court proceedings, for which you will be responsible in case the party accused by you is found not guilty.

Yours sincerely,

Dolores Umbridge

Director General

Department of Magical Law Enforcement

Ministry for Magic

Remus felt like laughing. Umbridge had now acquired Amelia's position. And she did not even bother to refer to any new decree, but just started enforcing her own practices in the court procedures. Maybe she had not been nominated earlier, as Remus had not heard it mentioned, but in any case the timing of this letter was perfect. The plaintiff was not meant to have too much time to arrange the financing of the legal action, so that less wealthy injured parties would be effectively deprived of the right to seek justice. The purpose was so clear that Remus felt tempted to give in immediately, relieved to avoid the whole process. But he realised that he still had to consult Dumbledore. He was, after all, only a tool in Dumbledore's actions.

***

Having passed the letter to Dumbledore over dinner that night, he soon felt embarrassed in front of the other Order members. With a momentary frown Dumbledore simply dug out the gold and handed it to him.

"All right, I'll take care of the payment through Gringotts." In his own ears at least his tone of efficacy, with which he wanted to hide a complex mixture of emotions, was far from convincing.

"And make sure to keep this letter and the receipt."

Remus had, of course, intended to do that. Since Dumbledore specifically reminded him, he had to wonder whether there were any particular plans. "In the Wizengamot, do you want me to take up matters of principle besides the facts of my own case?"

"Just speak your mind. They'll make any decision they want in any case. But this is a chance for publicity," Dumbledore answered with another irritating twinkle in his eyes.

***

Remus chose to go to the ministry straight from his place and together with Mrs Porchead. His landlady had been cited only as a witness in his case. He had kept reminding her that she herself had not been accused of illegal magic, and that she had no reason to worry.

She seemed more confident than before now when all dressed up in a gold-embroidered dress with long and wide sleeves covering her hands until the tips or her fingers. When meeting her outside of her flat Remus also suspected that she was either wearing shoes with excessively high heels or actually levitating, so high she was able hold her head, which was also crowned not only by feathers but by a whole peacock sitting on top of her elaborate hairdo.

"Mrs Porchead, you look stunning today." He was completely sincere when saying that.

And after they had both appeared in the atrium of the ministry - Mrs Porchead in a flash of dim light and Remus with a loud crack - he made a cautious gesture to offer his arm to the lady. He felt a surge of confidence in himself, when she hardly hesitated at all and started marching proud on his side towards to the security desk. They were advised to take the lift to the Department of Mysteries and to descend to old Courtroom Ten.

Remus had known that a case against the Head of the Auror Headquarters had to be tried by the full court. Still, he had not thought about the fact that he would return so close to the place where he had come with the aurors and Sirius to save Harry and his friends. He glanced at Mrs Porchead in order not to allow his mind to be distracted. He had, in fact, been to this courtroom before, too. Fifteen years earlier he had been cited as a witness in a few cases against those who had committed crimes during Voldemort's reign of terror. But in those cases all the charges had been dropped, because the accused had pleaded that they had committed the deeds when controlled by the Imperius Curse and not of their own free will.

When he turned the heavy iron door handle and opened the door to let Mrs Porchead enter the large dimly-lit dungeon before him, a wizard hurried to show them to seats on the lowest benches on the left from the entrance. In a moment the door opened again and Remus recognised Kingsley's auror partner. He stood up to shake hands with the young man.

"Lancelot Diggory," the man introduced himself. He tried to smile politely, but his remarkably handsome face expressed utter embarrassment.

Remus refrained from further embarrassing his witness with more conversation. He knew that Kingsley had discussed all that was necessary for the witness to take into consideration. Having resigned, Kingsley had concluded that he had better not testify but leave it for this ex-colleague, instead, who could provide proof for the planning of the operation at the Auror Headquarters and who had volunteered to do it in court. In addition to Mrs Porchead and young Diggory, Remus had officially cited as witnesses only two other persons, whom the law enforcement had promised to invite to the trial. It seemed they had not arrived yet.

The three highest benches on Remus's left were occupied by about fifty shadowy figures. Suddenly all the torches on the dark stone walls flamed up, and the silver "W" gleamed on the chest of the plum-coloured robes on every members of the court. Only one wizard, who was bent to talk to the witch and wizard sitting in the middle of the front row, was dressed in light blue. He straightened his back and descended the stairs in relaxed nonchalant manner. Before settling comfortably and proudly in an armchair down in the centre of the room to face the court, he glanced towards Remus. Amos Diggory's brown beard was as scrubby as always.

Remus had met him last time when renewing his ten-year wand license for half-humans at the age of thirty-one at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and he doubted he had made any lasting impression among all the creatures whose cases had been dealt with at the Beast Division. The accused did not, indeed, show any sign of recognition or irritation, either, while eyeing the man who he must have understood was the plaintiff. He did not seem to mind he was made to appear in this role in front of the full court, but acted as if he had been rather amused or even pleased to be in the centre of attention. There were no chains attached to the arms of the chair reserved for this accused. Remus knew that Amos Diggory had been nominated as the Head of the Auror Headquarters during the summer, and he suspected that Fudge had chosen this man with the plans of the new decree in mind.

Cornelius Fudge lifted his head only for a moment from the parchment he had been reading, and rolled open another parchment. He started reciting with an even, almost bored voice, "Private indictment against Amos Diggory, Head of the Auror Headquarters. Plaintiff: Werewolf Remus Jaws Lupin. Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic and Dolores Jane Umbridge, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Court Scribe: Percy Ignatius Weasley."

Remus let his eyes move away from Fudge, Umbridge, and Percy, who had started to scribble eagerly, and searched for familiar faces in the rows behind them. In the very highest row and at the right end of it, farthest away from Remus, the light of the torches reflected from the silvery hair and beard, and twinkled merrily on the half-moon spectacles, as Dumbledore nodded and waved his hand to Remus, as if he had been staring at him all the time and had just waited to be spotted. Then Dumbledore turned towards the shadows behind and gestured to a man who slid quietly onto the seat on his left.

This wizard was evidently an outsider, as he was wearing strikingly turquoise robes, in contrast with which his shoulder-length straggly blond hair looked almost colourless. His protuberant eyes wandered around the room and fixed their weirdly unblinking gaze at Remus. Without moving his gaze he took his wand from behind his ear and conjured a small desk in front of him. After spreading a parchment on it he took a rainbow-coloured quill from behind his other ear and placed it upright on the parchment. He leant forward cautiously so as not to touch the quill and continued to stare at Remus, who was now quite sure whom the man looked like. Only when the quill started gliding on the parchment in feverish movements, did Remus realise that his appeal for legal action was now being recited in Fudge's bored voice.

"... enforcing an Unforgivable curse. I accuse Amos Diggory, Head of the Auror Headquarters, who had given the orders in the operation, of attempted assault by Cruciatus Curse on Mrs Gabriella Porchead, and of an offence of gross negligence which led into myself being hit by the Cruciatus curse. Invoking Decree number 893, given in July this year by the Ministry for Magic, does not free Amos Diggory from the responsibility, because the said decree is in obvious violation of the Constitution of the Magical Community of Britain and the International Declaration of the Rights of the Creatures." Fudge's voice got more and more muffled as he approached the end of the appeal.

Percy was not writing anymore. The only other sound in the courtroom was the screeching of the quill in the top row, and it seemed louder than the reciting. The witch beside Fudge tried to crane her almost nonexistent neck so as to see what caused the sound. Yes, she was Dolores Umbridge Dumbledore seemed to have been watching her: he immediately waved his hand happily to her. Umbridge opened her wide slack mouth but closed it again, frowning. The Chief Warlock had the right to decide whether audience was allowed to attend a session of the Wizengamot or not.

Fudge cleared his throat and now raised his voice a bit. "Mr Amos Diggory, please."

Without standing up the Head of the Auror Headquarters uttered his line almost carelessly, like an amateurish actor in the role of the accused. "I plead not guilty."

"Witness to the plaintiff, Auror Lancelot Diggory," Fudge declared.

The wizard who had showed them to their seats now motioned young Diggory to the centre of the room. The auror remained standing and looked straight ahead at Fudge, who continued, "The plaintiff may interrogate the witness first."

Remus stood up, bent his head slightly as a greeting to Fudge and turned towards young Diggory's profile. "What did you know beforehand about the operation which was planned for the aurors to perform at the night between the 30th and the 31st of July this year?"

"Objection." Umbridge pronounced the word in her girlish high-pitched voice and continued with calm satisfaction. "The accused is second cousin to the witness. This witness has no obligation to answer any questions."

At the same moment two wizards stepped to either side of Lancelot Diggory. They grabbed his arms and started leading him towards the door, while nobody said a word.

Remus had to act quickly. "Do you want to answer my questions, Mr Diggory? The witness has the right to testify, if he wants to."

Remus wondered if Lancelot Diggory had known about this, when he had agreed to come to the trial, or if he just did not realise that he could now say he wanted to testify. It did not really matter. Umbridge followed her own plan in any case.

"It seems..." she said slowly, watching the three men walk to the door and out of the courtroom, "that Auror Lancelot Diggory has decided not to testify."

The door had closed behind them.

"Witness to the plaintiff, Goblin Gabriella Porchead," Fudge declared. "The plaintiff may question her now."

Mrs Porchead glided to stand next to Amos Diggory's chair. Before turning towards the interrogators she evidently threw a reproachful glance at the accused: he actually stood up, startled, and sunk back in his chair only after managing with hard concentration to conjure a chair for the lady. The chair appeared at some distance from his, but she waved her hand to make it move even a little further and turn, so that when she had walked to it solemnly and sat down, she could see both Remus and the interrogators.

Remus, who had remained standing all the time, nodded to her, smiling approvingly before asking, "Mrs Porchead, what happened in your sitting room at the night between the 30th and the 31st of July this year?"

Mrs Porchead raised her remarkable bushy eyebrows, which she had decorated with gold for the occasion, and stared at the interrogators for a while, as if expecting them to prevent her from answering. "I entered the sitting room after having heard a sound of breaking wood, and I thought it must be burglars. But I wonder why they made so much noise. They must have had some powerful magic and special muggle tools to be able to enter despite all the spells and locks I have on the building, so they didn't really need to actually break the door of my flat."

"Objection." Umbridge's voice interrupted her. "You are not to tell us what you wonder now, but what happened in that room then."

Mrs Porchead moved about in her chair restlessly, as if ready to stand up and leave, but Remus caught her eye and nodded encouragingly.

"All right. In the sitting room I found these two young men rummaging in my chest of drawers, where I keep that jewellery of mine which I wear daily and don't care to store in a more secure place. I pushed them against the wall to ask them what they were up to. But then Mr Lupin came and said he would tie them up. I got upset by his sudden appearance and I happened to touch him. And then his wand was charmed to fly away from him, and we noticed two men in auror uniforms. They said that an inhuman creature had committed illegal magic and they would force me to tell them something about You Know Whose connections with goblins. One of them aimed a Cruciatus Curse on me, but Mr Lupin came in the way, and it hit him. Two more men in auror uniforms entered and said the case would go to the Wizengamot. Then one of them helped me take care of Mr Lupin, who had fainted."

While listening Remus had in his mind formulated the next question to deal with the protection of her premises, in order to provide proof that the burglars must have been given some help as well as instructions to make noise.

But Umbridge interfered again. "The court has just been given a document which makes the reliability of this witness highly questionable."

The peacock on Mrs Porchead's hairdo spread its magnificent tail and let out a piercing squall.

Turning partly towards the higher benches on her left, Umbridge lifted a piece of parchment and waved it above her head. "This receipt dated in August and signed by Mrs Porchead confirms that the plaintiff has paid her a considerable amount... well, considerable considering the plaintiff's circumstances."

She now fixed her bulging eyes on Remus, and with a simper she cocked her head on one side. "The payment is named rent, but the court may, after examining this piece of evidence, evaluate whether it is more likely that the plaintiff has paid such an amount with an understanding that the recipient do a certain favour. Probably the favour of testifying against aurors to support a trumped-up accusation. It is not customary to pay more than five Galleons at a time as rent for the kind of abode that the plaintiff occupies. Furthermore, the judges may consider if it is likely that the plaintiff's kind of creature could spare an amount like this without very special circumstances. An organization, for which werewolf Lupin works informally, may have channelled through him this payment for such a special favour, after first giving him the task of bringing trumped-up charges to Wizengamot in order to question the Ministry's legislation."

Dolores Umbridge paused, gazing around triumphantly. Mrs Porchead had turned to face Remus. He tried his best to look reassuring and hurried to talk before Umbridge had time to continue.

"The payment was rent, and you have no evidence against what is stated in the receipt.

Exactly because of a financial situation which is normal for a creature like me I was behind in my payments, and this amount can be explained by the fact that I sold a painting in mid-August."

"But it seems that none of the witnesses you have cited can testify for that," Umbridge said almost gently.

"I did not expect a claim like this." Remus closed his eyes and sighed. He really felt like giving up. On the other hand, while the court was not likely to agree to his demand, he could state it just for the matter of principle. "I demand a second session, to which I can cite as a witness the person who purchased the painting, and another auror, who is not related to the accused. But I have formally asked you to invite two other witnesses to this session."

"If you mean the burglars, I regret..." Umbridge leaned forward and gazed at Remus, smiling before she continued, "The law enforcement arrested them so as to keep them safe for the trial. They are still in safe keeping in Azkaban, but unfortunately not in their sound minds to testify. Poor souls, if you can call them that any longer."

Remus could hardly remain standing and he took hold of the back of his chair. His eyes were brimming with tears of rage, and of regret. If he had not asked those young men as witnesses, they would have been sane and perhaps even free. He felt he could not utter a word. But he had to do it.

He stood straight again and cast one look into Umbridge's eyes, which were fixed at him in a curious stare. He glanced at Fudge, who was looking down at his parchment. By the time he noticed that both Dumbledore and the reporter on his left were leaning towards him as if in anticipation, Umbridge's high voice was chiming, "As there are no more witnesses to question, the court may proceed to make a decision."

"As plaintiff I have the right to give my final statement," Remus said. He heard his own voice weak and toneless.

But he turned his eyes from Umbridge back towards the right end of the top row and fixed them at the rainbow quill, which was quivering slightly, as if enticing him to give a speech.

"I regret having demanded this trial. My choice of witnesses has led the law enforcement to act again in violation of the Constitution and the Declaration of Rights of the Creatures. The Ministry for Magic has continued the practice of sending prisoners to Azkaban without trial. These two young men, who may not have been proved as having followed orders given by the Auror Headquarters, as I stated in my appeal, have in any case not been proved guilty of any crime, not even formally accused of any. And even if they had been declared guilty as a result of a fair trial, the sentence to Azkaban would violate the rights which must be secured for all creatures. This common punishment means either continuous torture or the deprivation of the soul, and thus it contradicts with the intention of justice stated in the Constitution. According to the International Declaration no creature shall be subjected to torture or to cruel or degrading treatment..."

"Objection!"

Remus's voice had been gaining force as he had proceeded, and Umbridge's objection was no longer uttered in a calm and satisfied manner. She was trembling as she almost screamed, "This has got nothing to do with the trial!"

Remus smiled, bowing to her. "I apologize. Let me talk about this trial. I regret having demanded it. It is clear that the intention of the interrogators was not to confirm the truth. This is quite understandable, when they themselves as the superiors of the accused must have ordered him to commit the crimes to which I refer in my appeal. I made a mistake not accusing the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Minister for Magic himself. But I assure you this mistake was only due to the fact that the current law prohibits any charges against those who hold these two positions. Such a law, of course, contradicts with the Constitution of our Magical Community. Clause two of the Constitution clearly states that all creatures are equal before the law and are entitled without any discrimination to equal protection of the law."

"Objection! The Law of the Criminal Immunity of the Ministerial Positions is not a subject matter of this trial!"

The fact that Umbridge had still been listening simply surprised Remus. She had let out several squalls of objections and she continued to do it, but as long as she did not manage to formulate a whole phrase, Remus ignored her.

"Very well. I'll say a few words about the subject matter of this trial. Decree number 893 states that an Auror in the service of the Ministry for Magic is allowed to use any of the three Unforgivable Curses against any creature who is not a fully authorised member of the wizard community. This decree has been formulated so as to apply to any creature defined by the authorities as not fully human, and to any human defined as not having proper magical powers, and even to any witch or wizard not member of the Magical Community of Britain or deprived of the full rights of a member on the basis of suspected crime. Such a scope of application makes the decree into quite an effective weapon in the so-called war. And the decree forces us to question who is actually regarded as enemy by the Ministry for Magic. However, applying this decree to even one creature of any kind would violate clause one of the International Declaration of the Rights of the Creatures. I quote: Every creature has the right to life, liberty and security of person..."

"Objection! This final statement is transgressing all time limits..."

"Excuse me, Dolores." A strong but calm, almost amused voice sounded from the highest row. Dumbledore smiled, waving his hand and winking at Remus. "According to the procedural rules of the Wizengamot there is no time limit. You may not be used to listening to such an eloquent creature as Remus Lupin, but let us allow him to finish what he has got to say. If you find it hard to follow, you can read it in the press afterwards.

Umbridge as the Head of the Law Enforcement was, indeed, in the position to renew the procedures. But during a session of the Wizengamot the Chief Warlock had the final power to decide who had the right to speak. And he nodded to Remus, encouraging him to continue.

"Thank you. And according to clause seven of the Declaration, The will of the creatures shall be the basis of the authority in the community. Who has got the power in the Magical Community? We have a system of one Ministry and one Minister, and in practice whoever holds that position has the authority to use the whole power or delegate it to anyone he chooses. The duty of the judiciary is, according to the Constitution, also to supervise the use of this authority. You, members of the Wizengamot, have the right to judge according to the highest legal principles, the Constitution and the International Declaration. I plead you not to follow the lead of the Minister. You may consider that I have not proved my case. I plead you to allow me another session. But most of all I plead you to use your right to declare Decree number 893 invalid. Minister Fudge or whoever to whom he has delegated power, more or less openly, is using the threat from Voldemort as an excuse to violate the rights of the creatures."

The dungeon was completely quiet with the exception of the sound of the quill. Remus wondered if it was writing Voldemort or You Know Who when it let out a more ear-rending screech than ever. He waited for it to finish the sentence. Doubting that he could ever make himself stop lecturing, in case there really was no time limit, he took a deep breath.

"Violating these rights is, of course, nothing new. Instead of concentrating on promoting unity in the magical community, and on securing decent conditions for life to those who suffered from the Cruciatus Curse in the hands of Voldemort's servants, the authorities have resorted to such means which make them little better than Voldemort himself. The Head of the Law Enforcement has authorised the use of the Unforgivable Curses before, at that time against those who were only suspected as supporters of Voldemort. I want to emphasize - though you must all know it - that I am not talking about Madam Amelia Bones, who was the most righteous defender of the rights of all creatures..."

Remus had to stop and bite his lip, but he let the pause serve as homage to his friend. "...but her predecessor Bartemius Crouch. And the Ministry has not needed Curses to deprive creatures of their basic rights. According to clause eleven of the Declaration, Every creature has the right to a standard of living adequate for the health and well-being of himself and his family. However, members of any minority have been persecuted in the Magical Community with indirect and direct assistance from the Ministry. Most of them have been denied the right to their inherited property, as well as a chance for decent income and for education. But although a solitary werewolf is bound to be the underdog, and even the goblins with their traditional duty as the guardians of the public funds are now a target of attacks by the Ministry, the magical creatures other than full-blooded witches and wizards are ultimately not a minority. When empowered and united we shall change the order. We shall finally put the principles of equality into effect. Thank you."

He said the last words quietly, looking up at Dumbledore, who returned them to him. "Thank you, Remus. The court may proceed to make a decision now, Dolores."

The Wizengamot fell into urgent whispering conversation. Umbridge handed over the rent receipt to be circulated, but the whispering stopped even before everybody could have seen it.

"Those in favour of conviction of the accused?" Umbridge said.

No hands were raised.

"Those in favour of a second session before a final verdict?"

Dumbledore alone raised his hand.

"And those in favour of clearing the accused of all charges!" Umbridge declared triumphantly with hardly a trace of a questioning tone in her shrill voice.

Hands were raised and there was no need to count them. Umbridge was too excited - and probably still too much upset by the speech which Remus had managed to give in front of a reporter - to check the vote of each of the judges. But Dumbledore ignored Remus for a moment so as to find out which members of the Wizengamot dared at least refrain from voting. Then he turned his eyes back to Remus with hardly a trace of apology in his self-satisfied smile. He must have known all the time what the outcome would be. As the Chief Warlock he could have had a decisive influence on the final decision of the court only in case the votes had been equal.

***

Remus had not always been sure if his name had once really been Arthur, or if it had just been a part of his play. Just a couple of times her mother had called him Arthur, then quickly corrected herself, and said that she had only made a mistake while thinking about someone else.

But when he was seven, she had told him the legend of Romulus and Remus, warning him against mixing it with his own life. The twin brothers had been nurtured by a wolf, and one of them had become the founder of Rome. When he had said he wished they had named him Romulus, she had answered in a strangely sad tone but firmly, "You are not to become a king."

Two more years later his parents had finally explained to him that they had chosen the name for him immediately after the assault by the beast. They had been forced to change his surname as well. According to the legislation on dangerous magical creatures, anybody bitten by a werewolf was obliged to adopt officially and to start using such a name which would warn other members of the community. Names such as Bloody Bittenbane or Stinky Furtail were offered as examples. The Beast Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures of the Ministry of Magic had only grudgingly accepted his parents' choice for a name. And a middle name had been added by the authorities to be included in his official name. His father had wanted a beautiful name, and his mother had reasoned that Remus or Lupin would bring a werewolf to the mind of such people only who could possibly be civilised enough to treat her son decently.

"Whether people recognise the werewolf in you, and how they treat you, will eventually depend on how you behave," his mother had said seriously.

It took him over ten years more to be convinced that - regardless of his behaviour or the civil cling to his name - not only would he never become a king, but he also had no chance to become even the most minor assistant to the lowest civil servant.

Still, he had been fortunate, having scholarly parents to choose him a name and, above all, having loving parents who had decided to keep him. They never told him - and he had become an adult before he found out - that according to the law the parents had no obligations towards a child bitten by a werewolf. The Beast Division's inner regulations guided the personnel to recommend that the parents deliver the child over to the pack of the inducer of the injury.

His mother and father had continued to take care of him, risking their own safety and accepting the responsibility of any harm he might cause. He was their first son and remained the only child. He had blamed himself even for depriving any unborn brother or sister of life. They had devoted themselves to bringing him up and had helped him understand the reasons why it was especially important for him to refrain from all violence.

They had also themselves been strong in following their principles. All through Voldemort's reign they had helped persecuted creatures, even hidden half-breeds in their house. That was why he had lost his parents as well. They had been killed together with their protégés by Death Eaters who raided the village two years before James and Lily died.

For the first time ever he now doubted his parents had done the right thing keeping him. And he felt guilty because of these doubts. He had even rendered himself guilty of downright anger at his parents at the moment of his latest transformation. Having always felt that he owed his parents so much and that he had himself brought them only grief, he now caught himself criticising them for their idealism.

But they had brought him up to be idealistic, too. His idealism just had to continuously duel with the scepticism which the experiences of his adult life had built in him. Half without hope he had to go on looking for a way towards justice for all creatures, while half detesting himself he had started to doubt that the humanity of the proud full-blooded humans was more noble than the essence of other creatures.

***

The colourful magazine was open in the middle of the large, otherwise empty dinner table at number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Remus winced at the daubed cartoon, in which Fudge could be recognised on the basis of the lime-green bowler hat. The Minister was pictured with his back against a wall, and there was a grotesque wolf with bared teeth in front of him.

"Fortunately they didn't make me bite him."

***

Having seen the fresh extra issue of the Quibbler at the corner grocery store earlier on that day, the day after the trial, Remus had decided to arrive at the headquarters late enough to avoid conversation with anybody except Dumbledore. He had no need to explain anything.

The father of that extraordinary girl, Luna Lovegood, whom he had found so bittersweet to meet again, after two years, at the end of the Battle, had not disappointed him. Luke Lovegood had added some provocative remarks as his own opinions in his article, but had not distorted the words uttered during the trial at all. Remus wondered if he should start to believe in the existence of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. And although most of the articles in the magazine were rather unusual, as Hermione had put it diplomatically, Lovegood had, indeed, published Harry's interview in March and thus made the truth about Voldemort's return known and accepted both in Harry's closer circle, at Hogwarts, and in the wider community, against Fudge's and Umbridge's wishes.

The children had left for Hogwarts in the morning and Remus had said good-bye to them in the afternoon before without commenting on the trial or staying for dinner then either. When Harry had thanked him for the lessons of defence, he had said, "I have to thank you for a lesson Dumbledore has learnt from you."

Harry had looked totally puzzled, and he had added, "Give my regards to Luna and ask her to show you a copy of the extra issue of the Quibbler. I don't think I need to tell you about the trial myself, so we can spend this afternoon practising another version of Rafinarisma. How would you refine a Petrificus Totalus?"

***

"How do you feel about the publicity?" Dumbledore said, closing the magazine and revealing the cover photograph, in which Remus again and again kissed Mrs Porchead's hand in front of what was now left of the fountain of the magical brethren in the atrium of the Ministry.

Remus truly hoped he was able to surprise Dumbledore. "It's excellent. I just hope the reporters of the Quibbler will hear rumours about what I'm going to do now, too."

"And what are you going to do now?"

***

After giving Harry his last lesson, Remus had spent the evening of the 31st of August planning what to do and making preparations, which had meant going to Diagon Alley to send two owls. Then he had used the rest of his paints for a rather conservative landscape - with a nostalgic touch - on the back side of his abstract painting.

When, forced by his hunger, he had entered the grocery store on the following day, he had been surprised and delighted by the quickness of Luke Lovegood, but the front cover of the magazine had also made him feel a bit nervous about the article's contents and tone. The shopkeeper had soon eased his discomfort, though. The old squib had never been actually unfriendly to Remus, but this morning he had been beaming at his customer.

"Congratulations, Mr Lupin! Or should I just wish you good luck? A gorgeous picture of my best customer, Mrs Porchead, too, isn't it? You want to buy a copy of course, don't you?"

"No, thank you, Mr Buddymere. I'm afraid I've always been your worst customer. I'll take just some bread, please!" Smiling, Remus had placed his last knots on the counter.

The shopkeeper had returned the smile. "You can take a copy to read and bring it back later. And take this, too. It's on the house." The shopkeeper had handed him a hot butterbeer.

Once again Remus had gone to sit down on the bench at the shabby square to enjoy his meal. He had found it quite pleasant to have the warming drink, while eating bread and reading through the article in the Quibbler. As was suitable for the first day of September, there had been a definite touch of chill in the air, an indication of change.

Returning home, he had found two owls waiting, and he had left for "The Best of Magical Pets" immediately. The art-loving pet shop owner had been eager enough to come to meet Remus, but not too excited about either of the new paintings. He had finally agreed to buy the canvas but not for more than ten Galleons.

When Remus had gone to explain his decision to his landlady, Mrs Porchead had, indeed, invited him to join her for dinner. So he really had not needed to follow even on that evening anymore the intention in Dumbledore's order that he have dinner at the headquarters daily.

***

"What are you going to do?" Dumbledore repeated. His calm voice expressed nothing more than sincere but mild interest.

Remus did not feel irritated, though. He managed to express himself lightly as well. "I'm leaving the headquarters, and London. I told you before I wouldn't mind being stationed somewhere else. I used to think it should be arranged by you and on the expenses of the Order. But now I only ask you to be my Secret-Keeper. And you can continue to ask for services from me, but where I go I'll have my own tasks to fulfill, too."

"Where will you go?"

"To my family estate. I'm going to claim my heritage."