A/N: It has been pointed out to me that Ron very rarely receives any moments of glory. I didn’t have many left to spare, but I like to think I’ve squeezed him in a little one…;)
35: Visiting Time
Four figures in school robes shuffled awkwardly into the limited space enclosed by the broad curtain. After only a moment of cramped elbowing, Hermione turned with an impatient huff and dragged the curtain back out of the way. Opened to the rest of the Hospital Wing, the space issue resolved, Ron, Neville and Hermione all dropped themselves onto the edge of the neighbouring bed, their expressions displaying varying degrees of pleasure, wariness and uncertainty. There was however, no mistaking the look on one particular face. With an echoing thud, Harry Potter deposited his papery burden on the nightstand and turned to face his teacher with stubborn and determined defiance.
“There’s about three hundred signatures there,” he informed Remus briskly. “And that’s only what we’ve managed to collect since the article appeared at breakfast. We’ve got most of the Gryffindors now and a good number of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs too. There’s even a few Slytherins who’ve signed! Hagrid’s put his name down and when Professor Flitwick caught us passing it out in Charms, he took a few sheets to give to his next class! So you see you can’t resign again. We won’t let you.”
Crossing his arms with a final nod, Harry abruptly thumped down onto the bed side chair that Reynard had recently occupied, his green-eyed stare emphatically daring Remus to disagree. His three companions echoed his sternness.
Examining their faces slowly, Remus fought down a sudden rush of euphoria. It was true. Being told by Dumbledore that the students wanted him to stay was one thing; seeing it for himself was another entirely. But these four “ they were a special case. Surely not all the children would feel this way…
His eyes fell upon the papery bundle beside Harry. Carefully, trying to ignore the scrutinising glare of four sets of eyes, he lifted the top few sheets from the pile and drew them close enough to read. After only a moment’s perusal of the hastily scrawled top line, written with a conflict of comments between Hermione’s familiar handwriting and Ron’s hurriedly scribbled annotations, he raised an eyebrow and fought back a smile.
We, the undersigned, as students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, would like to declare that we believe that Rita Skeeter’s article to be “ a steaming pile of Hippogriff dung “ both biased and untrue. We would also like to declare our support for Professor Lupin, a “ bloody brilliant Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher “ well-respected member of the faculty and our wish that he remain as a teacher here for the foreseeable future -otherwise we might end up with more Snape-. We also wish to express our gratitude to Professor Lupin for his willingness to risk his life for ours. Thank you for your time.
Harry Potter.
Ronald Weasley.
Hermione Granger.
Ginevra Weasley.
Neville Longbottom.
Dean Thomas.
Katie Bell.
Luna Lovegood.
Anthony Goldstein.
Ernie Macmillan.
Susan Bones.
Theodore Nott.
Colin Creevey.
Dennis Creevey…
The list went on… and on, spanning several sheets and including pupils of all years and all houses. Even simply scanning the names, Remus was almost overwhelmed. Such a show of support “ and all for him?
When he finally managed to tear himself away from the hypnotic swell of signatures, four anxious but determined faces gazed back at him.
“You’re a little late,” he ventured softly. “I have already spoken on this matter to Professor Dumbledore.” He rebutted the instant trepidation on their faces with a wry smile. “He has refused my resignation. Whether I like it or not, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Yes!” Ron’s exuberant exclamation broke the smile into a rueful grin “ the faces of Hermione and Harry showed similar signs of happiness and relief. Neville however was regarding him with unexpected shrewdness.
“So… you don’t want to stay?” he asked suddenly.
The joyful mood abruptly faltered. Remus sighed.
“Of course I want to stay,” he said, gazing down at the blankets with weary discomfort. “I just wasn’t sure that I should. Or that I would still be welcome…”
“But why would you think that?” Hermione’s voice cut in sharply. “You didn’t attack us or put us in danger and whatever that appalling Skeeter woman says, we know you only fought Kane to keep him away from us! You helped save us! Blood feuds, werewolf wars, I mean it’s absolutely ridiculous! That article is nothing but a pile of prejudiced, vindictive, fabricated…”
“Hermione.” Despite the soft tone, Remus’ voice nevertheless brought the Gryffindor Prefect’s tirade to an abrupt close. “Although the spin Miss Skeeter has elected to use is inaccurate to say the least, many of the facts in that article are true. I don’t know exactly how it is she found out, but I cannot deny that I was bitten by Abraham Kane.”
Hermione’s mouth closed with a snap. There was a stunned silence.
“But…” Ron’s bemused stammer was nonetheless vaguely accusatory. “You told us you didn’t remember…”
Remus met his eyes sincerely. “And when I told you that, I didn’t,” he stated firmly. “However my encounter with Abraham Kane in Hogsmeade provided my memory with a bit of a jolt. My father filled the gaps in for me whilst I was recovering.”
“Then that picture was really you?” Harry’s voice was a mixture of shock and an odd kind of understanding. “That scar…”
Wordlessly, Remus reached down and slightly lifted his pyjama top. Tooth-torn scar tissue of more than thirty years before peaked vividly out over the top of more recent bandaging. All four of the teenagers winced but none more so than Harry.
Remus gave the Boy-Who-Lived a sympathetic smile. “You and I have something in common, Harry, in that both our lives have been altered in childhood by those who hate us for no reason. I’ve been lucky at least that the scar that changed my life is usually out of sight.” He lowered his top once more and rubbed absently at his still damaged neck with a sigh. “Unlike a few more recent additions…”
A flurry of awkward glances were exchanged. “So…” Ron finally ventured cautiously. “How much of that article is true then?”
Remus leaned back against the bed-head, fighting back unpleasant memories. “The circumstances she describes leading up to my being bitten are accurate, if a little exaggerated,” he admitted. “However Miss Skeeter’s interesting take on my malicious werewolf mentality is pure invention. It would be rather difficult for me to have a lifelong hatred and yearning for revenge against someone I only learned the significance of just over two weeks ago.”
There was slight hint of relief lingering around Hermione’s face as she smiled. “That’s what we thought,” she told him emphatically. “Rita Skeeter loves to twist the facts. She’s nothing but a nasty, trouble-making hack and now everybody knows it. Everyone who was in that hall heard Sir Nicholas say who told him the spell that got us out before Kane’s werewolf could break down the barricades; plenty of others saw you rescue Professor Snape and drive that feral away from Harry. And I don’t care what they say, I believe you if you say Kane is a Death Eater…”
In spite of the supportive nature of Hermione’s rant, Remus felt obliged to make a point of order. “I said Kane was working for Voldemort,” he injected gently. “I never said he was a Death Eater because I know for a fact he refused the Dark Mark. He’s more of a twisted kind of freelancer who volunteered to serve Voldemort’s cause because he thought it would be fun.”
“Oh.” Hermione took the correction with good grace. “Well, it’s all the same, he’s still working for the most evil wizard alive. Even if you had been trying to kill him, you’d have done the world a favour.”
Remus fought down a guilty surge of conscience at the memory of his intentions on his second visit to The Howling. Although he was certain that he was by no means as bad as Rita Skeeter had implied, it seemed his students’ view of him was also a little rose-tinted.
To hide his discomfort, he forced himself to smile. “As it happens, I didn’t need to,” he said as lightly as he could manage. “I had Neville to come to my rescue.”
The round-faced boy turned pink and stared embarrassed at his shoes. “Well…it wasn’t really anything…” he stammered uncertainly. “I mean it was something…I’m not saying I didn’t want to help you or anything… but I’m sure someone else would have thought of something better.” He tried to smile. “I just saw that big silver chandelier hanging over it and I remembered that joke you made in class. I didn’t really think it would work.”
Remus smiled broadly at the now-scarlet young man. “Nevertheless, it was an impressive piece of quick thinking.” He paused thoughtfully for a moment, remembering a similar talent for rapid improvisation and inventiveness in two smiling faces from the past incarnation of the Order of the Phoenix. “I knew your parents a long time ago,” he added softly. “I know they would be very proud of you today.”
Neville twitched awkwardly, never taking his eyes off the floor, but a hint of a sad smile touched the corners of his mouth. The looks of the faces of Harry, Ron and Hermione told Remus more eloquently than words that they were aware of the Longbottoms fate.
It was time for a shift in subject. A matter of some curiosity rose to the forefront of Remus’ mind.
“Speaking of quick thinking,” he said in a deliberately lighter tone. “I’d be intrigued to know how in Merlin’s name an entire room full of children managed to escape the assault of a rampaging werewolf with no more than minor injuries. What exactly happened in the Great Hall before I arrived?”
Harry shifted in his seat as he exchanged glances with his three friends. “Well, after you and the other teachers left, Snape ordered us all to sit down at our House tables and stay put,” he said with a distinctive frown that strongly implied that he had not been pleased by the Head of Slytherin’s actions. “We offered to help “ us, the other DA members, the Prefects “ to patrol the halls or check the grounds or anything, but he wouldn’t have any of it. He just shouted at us to sit down and do as we were told and then turned his back on all of us and started chanting some complicated spell over the doors. We tried to speak to Hagrid “ or to that thing that pretended to be Hagrid “ but he just walked away from us.” He sighed. “I guess we should have known then that something was wrong but we thought he was just worried. But we couldn’t stand to do nothing, so I got out the Marauder’s Map so that I could check the grounds for Death Eaters.”
Remus could not restrain his grin. “Great minds think alike it seems. I went upstairs to do the same.” His eyes glinted. “In fact, there’s a trick to the map that I will have to show you later that came in very useful. I’m sure James wouldn’t mind if I gave you his password.”
Harry grinned back at his father’s old friend as Hermione took up the tale. “We were just looking over the map when this awful gasp rose up from the ends of the table near the doors,” she explained anxiously. “When we looked over we saw Snape lying in a heap on the steps and Hagrid running down the centre of the aisle. For a moment, I think we all thought he was going for help or something. But then we realised that he was shrinking.”
“It was creepy,” Ron exclaimed with a shiver to his tone. “Every step he took he just got shorter and shorter and then his hair started to curl and his beard got sucked into his face. And this his eyes went all weird and yellowy.”
“And then I realised it had to be Polyjuice potion,” Hermione put in matter of factly. “Harry was already checking the map but there was so many names it was impossible to see who he really was. By now he had shrunk so much that all we could see was this figure wrapped up in that enormous coat of Hagrid’s. It wasn’t until he turned around that we realised he was that feral from the Hogsmeade weekend.” She paused, an unmistakable shiver to her tone as she glanced awkwardly at her teacher. “But by then, he had already started to change.”
“There were teeth,” Neville injected tremulously. “Lots of teeth. And fur all over the place. And his face went all stretchy.”
Remus fought back a shudder at the memory of golden eyes and contorting features beneath the darkened trees. “I remember,” he muttered softly. He was hardly aware that he had spoken until Ron’s voice broke across his reverie.
“How do you remember? Is there a mirror in the Shrieking Shack or something?”
From the hefty thud of impact and the accompanying yell of pain, Remus estimated that Hermione had smacked Ron across the back of the head with a fairly substantial degree of force.
He smiled wanly. “No,” he said wearily. “I’ve seen Kane change before, although I only recently came to remember it. I witnessed his transformation about two minutes before he chased me down and bit me.”
There was a lengthy silence.
Remus sighed as he stared down at his bed sheets absently. “Go on,” he encouraged eventually. “I didn’t mean to stop you.”
Harry exchanged a long glance with Hermione before picking up the thread of their story. “Well, we knew we had to do something fast,” he continued with a shrug. “After seeing you that night in third year…” He trailed off uncomfortably for a moment, fingering the sleeve of his robe as he avoided his teacher’s understanding eyes. “Well, we knew how little time we’d got. We remembered after what you taught us that direct magic was no use; a couple of the prefects were firing stunners but they bounced straight off so I guess he was too much wolf by then for anything to work. Everyone was panicking like mad “ half the school were chucking chairs through the windows and leaping outside and the other half were belting for the doors. But we knew that there just wasn’t enough time for everyone to get away.” He smiled suddenly. “And that’s when Ron had a brilliant idea.”
The freckled redhead, who had until that moment been preoccupied with tenderly rubbing the back of his head and shooting glares at the prim-looking Hermione, looked up in surprise at the sudden attention.
“Well, it wasn’t much,” he shrugged with almost exaggerated nonchalance. “I just saw that he was kind of caught up in that massive coat of Hagrid’s and I thought if we could tangle him up in something just long enough it might give us time to get out. And then I remembered that those House banners hanging over the tables were made of some pretty heavy material…”
“It worked really well,” Hermione interrupted with enthusiasm, ignoring Ron’s reproachful look at the theft of his thunder. “And as soon as other people saw what we were doing, they joined in. By the time Kane had transformed, he was completely tangled up in every House banner in the Great Hall!”
“He was so strong though,” Harry let out a sigh. “He started ripping through them like they were wrapping paper or something. And since he was between us and the windows, we had no choice but to make for the door.”
Hermione took over again. “By the time we got there, I think everyone who’d fled that way had realised that Snape had sealed the doors with some kind of spell. But it was too late to make a run for the windows “ Kane was almost free. I knew he’d be more intelligent than a normal werewolf “ after that business in Hogsmeade, I looked up The Feral Werewolf: A Meeting of Minds by Rebekah Goldstein in the library and she says…”
“I didn’t care how intelligent he was,” Ron interrupted Hermione’s flow before she could launch into a dissertation on the subject, much to Remus’ secret relief. “He was big, hairy and looking hungry. I just wanted something thick and heavy between me and him but Crabbe and Goyle were too busy scraping at the doors and screaming for their mummies. That was when Ginny and Dean had the idea about using the House tables as a barricade and we all started levitating them quickly into place.”
“Ginny wanted to come today,” Harry added with a frown. “But she has Potions now and that greasy git Snape wouldn’t let her out of it to join us.” He carefully ignored the reproving look her received from Remus as his green eyes flared. “You’d think he’d be a little more grateful,” he declared with sudden heat. “Considering that you saved him from being eaten by Kane…”
“Harry.” Remus’ softly spoken intervention put a reluctant end to the young man’s rant. “In case you’ve forgotten, Severus Snape does not take kindly to having his life saved by people he doesn’t like. Especially when that person happens to have almost eaten him once themselves.” Neville Longbottom’s suddenly wide eyes reminded him that not everyone in the room had been privy to that long ago conversation. “The others can explain later, Neville,” he added hurriedly. “Now isn’t the time. But the point is, Harry, I don’t expect any gratitude from Severus Snape. To be honest, I don’t particularly want it. I think it would make us both uncomfortable.”
“Yeah, but it’s not fair!” Harry’s outburst was filled with indignation. “He’s such a miserable, ungrateful, prejudiced, nasty…”
Harry’s words faltered and dried away at the slow, deliberate rhythmic tap of footsteps on stone as a shadow loomed over the secluded corner of the Hospital Wing and ushered in a chilling drop in temperature. Dark eyes glared down the length of a hooked nose.
Severus Snape, it seemed, was not especially impressed with Harry Potter’s observations.
A/N Many apologies for the delay on this chapter; I've been trying to submit it for days - indeed until today, I thought I had suceeded three days ago! - but I kept catching the site in a bad mood...:/