Survivor's Guilt: Moony's Tale

It was dark. Remus lay in his bed trying to remember what had awakened him. He had been having a lovely dream. He and James and Peter and Sirius had been teenagers, playing every-man-for-himself Quidditch, zooming about on their old brooms, laughing, casting careless hexes and wrestling the quaffle away from one another.

James had always won when they had played in real life. He was the superior athlete among them though Sirius usually gave him a run for his money. Remus and Peter had been poor Quidditch players but had always enjoyed playing just for a laugh.

In his dream Sirius had been trying to wrestle the quaffle away from him. They were both laughing. Somehow they managed to lose hold of the leather ball, but still Sirius was trying to wrestle him from his broom, tickling him and grabbing at his wrists. At last they had tumbled off and Remus had lain sprawled on the grass with Sirius half-lying across him, pinning his arms to the ground.

James and Peter were swooping overhead, teasing and whistling and making catcalls, but Sirius just grinned. "Ignore them," he said. "They're just jealous 'cause you're mine." And then he had bent his head and pressed his lips against Remus's mouth, the kiss reinforcing his claim as clearly as his words. Those words were still echoing in Remus's mind when he woke, but they had not been what had awakened him.

There were voices in the corridor and hurried footsteps. Remus fumbled in the dark for his wand then used it to light the candle on his night stand. He got out of bed and hurriedly pulled on his robes before heading out into the dim and drafty corridor.

In the darkness he nearly ran headlong into Severus Snape.

"Lupin," he said, a sneer twisting his mouth. "You've saved me the trouble of waking you. Or perhaps someone else did." He raised his eyebrows inquiringly and made a motion towards the door to Remus's rooms. "Had any late-night visitors? Or are you just out for a stroll?"

Remus was glad of the darkness that hid his guilty blush. He surreptitiously sniffed the air before answering. No, Sirius was not nearby nor had he been anytime that night, he decided. Nothing to feel guilty about. This time. "I heard the commotion and merely came out to see if anything was wrong, Severus," he said evenly. "Has something happened?"

"Oh, no," the Potions master replied, still sneering. "Only half the castle felt like having a 2:30 A.M. stroll, is all. Thought perhaps the ... moonlight might do us some good."

Remus sighed. "Look, Severus; I don't feel like playing schoolboy games with you tonight. If something's happened just tell me, will you?"

"As it happens," Snape replied, half-suppressing a nasty smile, "Black has been in the castle tonight. Again. Attacked a student in his bed." He watched Remus's face intently as he delivered this news as if looking for some hint, some clue, some hidden emotion. Remus tried very hard to give him none.

"Has he?" he asked as casually as he could, cold dread taking up residence in the pit of his stomach. "Is Harry hurt? Has Black been captured?"

"The castle is currently being searched. I'm confident Black's hiding place will be discovered before long," said Snape, clearly enjoying Remus's fear. Finally he added, "and Weasley is quite well. It seems that when Black discovered he had the wrong boy he made a run for it." The black-haired wizard looked disdainful. "Odd, isn't it, that a man capable of murdering a dozen Muggles as well as his supposed friends should balk at sticking a knife in a helpless boy simply because he wasn't the one he was looking for?"

Odd indeed, thought Remus, though that was not a conversation he felt like having with Severus Snape now or ever. It was definitely food for thought, though.

"Well?" said Snape sharply. "Are you going back to bed, or are you going to us help search the castle for your boyfriend?" The nasty smile was back. "I have orders to search every room in this wing of the castle." Snape made as if to move towards the door to Remus's rooms again.

And you came to mine first of course, Remus thought with an inward sigh. What if Sirius had come here this time? "You're welcome to search my rooms, Severus. I have nothing to hide," he lied. "I'm just going to see if I can't have a word with Professor Dumbledore." He started down the corridor then turned back to Snape, whose hand was on the door handle. "Just don't ... touch anything," he said.

He did not manage to find Dumbledore but he met Professor McGonagall still in her tartan dressing gown outside the entrance to Gryffindor tower. She was applying the sharp side of her tongue to the painting which guarded the way into the tower. Remus noted that the Fat Lady was still not at her post. In her place was a rather chubby and foolish-looking knight who seemed quite taken aback at Professor McGonagall's outrage.

"Professor McGonagall," Remus addressed her, gallantly ignoring her unscholarly nightwear. "Professor Snape tells me there's been some excitement, but he was reluctant to part with the details. Can you please tell me what's happened? Is everyone all right?"

McGonagall's lips were pressed together in as thin a line as he had ever seen them. "One of the students was slack-witted enough to -- to leave a list of the Gryffindor passwords lying about!" she exclaimed. "Black sneaked into the castle and got ahold of the list somehow, which of course got him free entry to the tower because this -- this numbskull didn't have enough sense not to admit unwashed madmen with knives in the middle of the night!" She flashed a steely look at the knight in the painting.

"Dear Lady, I assure you it was not my intent --"

"Silencio!" cried McGonagall, pointing her wand at the painting. The knight continued to gesticulate and move his mouth but now made no sound. "I'm having him removed from this post as soon it as can be arranged. We really must step up security before -- No, it's too terrible even to think about." Her shoulders sagged and she suddenly looked very old and very tired.

"But the students," Remus urged. "They're all right?"

"Oh, yes," McGonagall answered tiredly. "It's a miracle no one was hurt. Weasley -- Ronald Weasley, that is -- says he woke to see Black standing over his bed with a knife in his hand! Well, naturally the boy cried out and woke the rest of his roommates and the commotion caused Black to take flight without harming anyone. I've tried to get the students to go back to bed but I fear they won't sleep much tonight."

"I daresay. Do you know which student it was that wrote down the passwords?" Remus asked.

"Yes, it was Longbottom. Foolish boy." McGonagall shook her head in disbelief.

"Longbottom? Frank and Alice's son?" Remus felt he should be surprised by this but he was not. Neville, poor boy, was terribly bumbling and forgetful. It was entirely believable that he could do such a thing.

"Indeed." McGonagall pursed her lips.

"Er ... Professor, would it be quite all right if I question the painting? I'd like to know a bit more about ..." he trailed off, unsure what he could say that did not sound like, "I want to hear more about my ex-boyfriend."

But McGonagall waved her hand at him tiredly. "Ask him whatever you like. I was only out here because I didn't want the entrance left unguarded," she said through clenched teeth, casting another poisonous glance at the knight. He was now sitting on the grass, arms folded, obviously sulking, and did not notice the look. "I'm going to go try to find Mr Filch and see about getting this painting replaced before morning. Would you mind staying until I can manage a replacement guard?" she asked hopefully.

"Not at all, Professor," he replied. He was tired but he was used to being tired and he had too much on his mind at the moment to sleep in any case.

McGonagall gave him a tiny tired but grateful smile and turned down the stairs.

Remus lifted the silencing charm from the painting. "Sir Knight, would you mind if I asked you a few questions?"

"They've already asked me all manner of questions," sulked the knight, not looking at him. "And they've all yelled at me. If you're going to yell at me too I don't think I feel like answering anymore questions."

"I promise not to raise my voice, Sir," said Remus. "Will you tell me your name?"

The knight got reluctantly to his feet. "Sir Cadogan, at your service." He bowed.

Remus gave him a slight nod in reply. "Sir Cadogan, is it not your job to guard the students of Gryffindor tower and to keep out those who have no business there?"

"It is indeed, Good Sir. But my instructions were to grant entry to the tower to those who knew the day's password, and the gentleman in question did indeed have the day's word."

"Did you not wonder why a man not dressed as a professor and carrying a knife might want access to the students' rooms in the middle of the night?" Remus asked, careful to keep any of the anger he felt out of his voice. This stupid painting had nearly been the death of Harry.

"Good Sir," the knight protested, putting up his gauntleted hands, "I was charged only with admitting those who possessed the password and no more. I own that perhaps I should have inquired as to the intent of one who was a stranger to me but it was not my duty to ask."

"Indeed," said Remus dubiously. "Be that as it may ...." But there was nothing more to be gained from that line of questioning. Remus shook his head. "Tell me -- tell me, what did Si -- what did Black say to you exactly?"

"Oh," the knight suddenly became more talkative. "He was most genteel. He addressed me with all due respect and courtesy. He read the week's passwords off his list until he found the right one and then asked me in which room he might find the boy with the rat."

"The boy with the rat?" said Remus in surprise.

"Aye, the tall, redheaded lad. Well, one of them." The knight nodded. "But I told him the boy didn't have the rat anymore. And anyway I don't know who is in which room; I've never been inside the tower. Well, he thanked me most politely and went through to the other side. Came back out again in quite a hurry about five minutes later. Didn't so much as bid me goodnight."

"The boy with the rat ..." Remus said again thoughtfully. Ron, not Harry, he thought. Why? And when Ron woke up, why run rather than kill him? Remus sighed. Yet another piece of the puzzle that did not fit.

"Thank you, Sir Cadogan," he said at last, spotting McGonagall and Filch rounding the corner at the end of the corridor. "Good night to you."

"Good night kind Sir," said the knight. "Thank you for not shouting."

Remus was already heading towards McGonagall, but he gave the painting a "think nothing of it" wave.

"Professor," he nodded, "Mr Filch. Any news of Black?"

Filch eyed him suspiciously -- the same look Filch had always given him as a boy -- but Professor McGonagall merely replied, "no, Professor Lupin. No word at all. I fear he has eluded us yet again." She shook her head in bafflement. "Though I can't imagine how he's managing it. Every painting -- well, nearly every --" she shot Sir Cadogan another dirty look, "-- in the castle knows what Black looks like. The Dementors are patrolling the grounds day and night. Everyone is on the lookout and yet he does something like this --" again she gestured at the painting, "-- under our very noses. I just don't understand it."

I know, thought Remus. I could tell them. I could give them the crucial bit of information that would see him captured before the sun set again. But I can't. I can't be the one. Not even when he does something like this. Instead of answering he simply shook his head. "Shall I join in the search?" he asked, hoping that the answer would be "no".

He was not disappointed. "Thank you, Professor Lupin, but no. I fear we will find nothing tonight. If he hasn't been found by now, chances are he is no longer in the castle. No, go back to your bed, Professor. Try to get some sleep. I shall do the same, once I am sure of the guard on this tower."

Remus thanked her and headed back to his rooms, still thoughtful and very, very confused.