2: The Feral Institute
It was safe to say that the interior of the Feral Institute was no friendlier than its façade. Grim, grey, windowless walls rose around them, uniform and unremarkable, broken only occasionally by heavy black doors marked with symbols or numbers or long, identical corridors that stretched away into the building. Even the lights, round crystal balls that shone with an illuminating white glow, seemed dull somehow, subdued and shadowy, as though light itself was an unwelcome presence.
In the distance, Remus was sure he could hear voices. But they saw no one as they walked.
The grim man continued his relentless stride a few paces ahead. He was, at close quarters, quite impressively tall, with brown hair that thinned drastically across his crown, a strong prominent nose and a heavy jaw set firmly. His robes were grey and red in colour, marked with a badge that showed a wolf’s “ a werewolf’s “ footprint against a white circle that Remus assumed was supposed to represent the full moon. His wand, tucked in a leather holster, was prominently displayed.
To Remus’ right, Tonks caught his eye and mouth the word security. Remus nodded in return. This man was no researcher.
Ahead, the corridor that they had followed straight and true came to an abrupt end at a large pair of black double doors marked prominently with the same symbol emblazoned on the security guard’s chest. Another man dressed in the same red and grey uniform was sat at a desk in an alcove just beside it, tapping his wand against the wood with a distinctly expression of boredom.
“Falconer.”
The man jumped violently as their stern guide addressed him from beneath frowning brows, jamming his wand back into its holster as he dusted his robes off and stood to a sort of attention.
“Yes, sir?”
The first man turned his steely gaze upon Remus and Tonks. There was nothing precisely hostile in his eyes, no dislike on grounds of prejudice as Remus had briefly suspected, but a simple but firm distrust of everyone and everything. This was a man who expected you to do wrong whether he knew it was likely or not.
“Falconer, sign this lady and gentleman in,” he rumbled in his deep emotionless baritone. “And then wait here with them. Someone will be coming down from Level Five to escort them shortly.”
Falconer nodded crisply. “Yes sir.”
Their escort inclined his head briefly in Remus’ direction, a gesture that Remus politely returned, and then turned to the double doors. Stiffly, he pulled his wand from its holster and tapped it sharply three times against the left toe of the werewolf’s paw.
“Alexander Aylward,” he stated precisely. “Security Clearance Alpha.”
With a shrill whistle, the circle rotated sideways by ninety degrees. The door released with a loud click. A moment later, Aylward had stepped inside and was gone. The lock sealed itself sharply behind him.
Behind his desk, the security guard called Falconer smiled wanly at Tonks as he deposited a large, leather bound tome on the wooden surface. A quill, attached to a small inkpot by a silver chain, was already sunk into the grain.
“If I could have your pass?” he said, smiling at Remus with distinctly uncertain cheer.
Smoothing the now slightly crumpled scroll of parchment still grasped between his fingers, Remus handed it across the desk to the young man who accepted it with a nod as he scanned the curly writing with a frown.
“That seems to be in order… Professor,” he said, handing the pass back as he lifted the quill and scribbled something down in his leather bound book. “If I could just have your assistant’s name?”
Name. Ah.
Remus was aware that Tonks had a tendency to name her various disguises - tweedy old Dolly, Betty the bland and unremarkable, Buffy the blonde bombshell to name but three “ as it was considered prudent both by herself and her employers that she not necessarily advertise her identity as a rather distinctively named Auror whilst alternately faced. Indeed, Remus had sat through most of her repertoire that morning as she selected a suitably harmless looking persona to adopt, but in the rush to apparate in time to catch the right train into the Institute’s anti-apparation zone, the look she had chosen had not been christened.
Use of Nymphadora Tonks was certainly out of the question. But, quite typical of the usual fluctuations of his brain, it suddenly seemed to be the only name that he could think of.
Tonks was glaring at him, her eyebrows working in a universally understandable declaration that he should hurry and just make one up. And at his hesitation, Falconer was looking slightly puzzled.
“Sir?”
“Undine.” The name tripped off Remus’ lips before he could stop himself. “Undine Blackwood.” He smiled in a faux sheepish manner. “I’m terrible at remembering people’s surnames.”
Falconer’s replying smile was more genuine. “You know, my little brother always said one of things he liked about you when you taught him was that you used his first name. He thought it was more friendly.”
Remus made himself chuckle. “It was meant to be friendly. But there was an element of bad memory too.”
Falconer laughed too, as he looked down to scribble in his book once more. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
At his side, Tonks was mouthing Undine Blackwood? with a distinctly incredulous expression. He ignored her pointedly.
“All right.” Falconer slid the book carefully across the table, the quill extended before him. “If you could both sign against your names?”
Tonks accepted the quill from Falconer’s outstretched hand. With a subtle but noticeably dirty glance at Remus, she wrote the name Undine Blackwood in pointedly large letters before shoving the quill into his hands.
Remus signed his name neatly. Falconer smiled again.
“If you’ll just wait a moment, I’ll issue your day passes. Welcome to the Feral Institute.”
The moment Falconer had turned his back, Remus felt sharp fingers digging into his arm as he was yanked several feet out of the security guard’s earshot. The disguised but nonetheless irate features of Nymphadora Tonks thrust themselves into his view.
“Undine?” She hissed acidly. “Undine? I have to hand it to you, Remus. I didn’t think it was possible to find a first name worse than mine but somehow, you’ve managed it.”
Remus had the grace to flush. “It means water nymph. I had your name stuck in my head and that was the first thing I thought of.”
Tonks shook her head, blonde curls bobbing with cheerful disregard of their owner’s mood. “If that is the first name you thought of, I think you need to trade in your brain. Undine, Remus. Honestly.”
“Here you go then.”
Tonks’ face broke at once into a chirpy smile as she stepped past her companion and took the two badges marked with the Institute symbol from Falconer’s hands. He smiled back.
“Your escort is on her way down,” he said, his eyes darting between Remus and Tonks. “But go easy with her. She’s a little…shy…”
Behind them, the door gave a distinctive clunk. Remus turned and found a pair of blue eyes peered out from behind the heavy wood.
Remus smiled slightly. The eyes didn’t move.
“Ummm… hello?” he ventured.
The eyes jumped violently. Paper cascaded across the floor.
“Oh bother!” With a high pitched exclamation, a small figure darted out from behind the doors, rushing from side to side as she gathered the fallen papers hurriedly in her hands. She was a short, mousy woman, chubby but not fat, with a broad, plain face clumsily daubed in badly applied make-up and wide blue eyes magnified behind large, gold-rimmed spectacles. Her hair, lankly curled, was a vivid, almost alarming shade of ginger, although a smudge of brown around her roots implied that the colour was not natural.
Exchanging a look, Remus and Tonks moved hurriedly to the unfortunate woman’s aid, gathering the scatter of paperwork quickly from the tiled floor. The woman’s eyes flashed towards them instantly, quick and furtive, her movements twitchy and nervous “ indeed, when in the course of gathering the last few sheets, Remus accidentally brushed his hand against hers, she jumped a good foot in the air and darted back as though she expected him to explode at any moment.
And this woman was working in a building full of potentially feral werewolves?
Eyebrow raised, Tonks carefully extended the sheets she had gathered in the woman’s direction. Breathing slightly too rapidly, the woman reached out and cautiously accepted them.
“H...Hello there,” she stammered. “M...M…Mr... sorry, Professor Lupin, isn’t it?”
Remus nodded carefully. “That’s right.”
Abruptly the woman’s expression blossomed into a smile. “C… Cymone Wrigley,” she introduced herself with a quick little nod. “I’m Dr Goldstein’s personal assistant.”
“Nice to meet you,” Tonks stepped forward. “I’m Undine Blackwood, Professor Lupin’s assistant.”
At the sound of her voice, Cymone jumped again but this time she composed herself rather more quickly. “N... Nice to meet you too,” she replied. “If you’d like to follow me?”
Exchanging a look, Remus and Tonks fixed their badges quickly in place and fell into step behind Cymone as she hurried back behind the safety of the large black door. The shiver of a protective ward sent a vibration down the length of Remus’ spine as they crossed the threshold, but the badge on his robes pushed back the barrier and allowed him to pass through unhindered.
The room beyond was small and dark, a bleak, windowless little foyer dwarfed by the doors that accessed it. Remus’ eyes fell at once upon the opposite wall, into which three dark grey grills of woven latticed metal had been sunk. From the grill in the centre a dark staircase vanished upwards, unlit and grim with shadows; behind the grills on either side gaped empty holes, square and blank, the foot of a shaft that burrowed upwards like a chimney into nothingness.
The door clanged shut behind them. Lights flared.
As the growing light from the ignited bulbs tickled the three grilled archways, black painted words came into focus above their mantles. To the left, Remus found the words “Resident Levels”, to the centre “Emergency Access” and to the right, the direction in which they were led by Cymone were the words “Staff Levels”. In place of locks, Remus could now see each grill was sealed shut by the increasingly familiar symbol of the Institute.
“D… Don’t touch the grill in the centre.” Cymone’s was a breathy gasp, hurriedly expelled. “It’s sealed with a stunning spell that’ll knock you unconscious for hours.”
Tonks frowned as they followed Cymone to the empty right hand shaft. “How come?”
Cymone’s eyebrow twitched. “It… it’s the only access to all floors at once,” she said nervously, fumbling with her wand. “Or... all floors but Level Six.” She smiled fleetingly. “T... that shaft only goes to the levels where the potential ferals live. And this one only goes to the staff levels. It’s all s...separate for security reasons. C…can’t risk too many escape routes!”
Remus frowned at her choice of words. Cymone’s expression dropped instantly “ turning hurriedly away, she tapped her wand against the symbol three times in quick succession.
“Cymone Wrigley,” she exclaimed. “Security Clearance Gamma.”
The empty shaft shimmered and vibrated and all at once the metal cradle of an old fashioned lift melted into view before their eyes. The grill released with a click “ Cymone slid it carefully aside and beckoned them quickly inside.
“A disillusioned lift,” Tonks was glancing around with a hint of respect. “Nice trick.”
In spite of containing only three occupants, the lift was very cramped. Cymone pulled the grill closed in an awkward flurry of elbows, leaning close to the elegant speaking horn with rapid breaths. “Level Five,” she said with careful clarity. “Reception.”
With an unwieldy clunk, the lift jerked into motion “ Remus grabbed Tonks’ elbow as she staggered back a half step and grasped his robes as her balance faltered. But the remainder of the ride was far smoother, the lift sliding up the narrow shaft with a swiftness that defied its apparent age before slipping to a tidy halt in front of a silver grill that appeared almost quietly behind them. With an odd sucking sound, the lift rotated neatly around to face this new entrance.
Luckily Remus was again on hand to prevent his companion from taking an ungainly spill. She flashed him a grateful smile as he eased her gently back to her feet and stepped out after Cymone.
The room beyond was marginally friendlier than the rest of the Institute thus far, a small room with the now familiar grey walls but lined with soft chairs and settees around its edge, grey cabinets containing books and old magazines and what looked like a decanter of firewhisky and a picture “ Remus’ lip twisted slightly “ of an ordinary wolf howling before the full moon. Someone had at least made an effort to bring a little colour here “ there was a bright Moroccan rug covering part of the grey carpet and scarlet and blue cushions lay scattered over the chairs “ but it seemed like a slightly futile effort against the weight of the building around them.
Ahead, the wall retreated slightly into a small alcove in which sat a messy little desk covered in files and papers and a battered old quill pot. A shelf ran along the wall behind, lined with little mouse and rabbit shaped knick-knacks and pictures of pudgy parents “ clearly this desk belonged to Cymone, a fact confirmed a moment later as she bustled over to it and deposited her papers in a heap on the desk. Her eyes flitted to beside the desk, where a dark door marked with a silver nameplate was firmly closed. Glancing over her shoulder, she waved an awkward hand that Remus took to mean that they were to stay where they were, knocked at the door and then abruptly vanished inside.
Tonks was immediately at his side, blonde curls bobbing as she dropped her voice to a low and urgent whisper. “Right. You concentrate on sounding out Goldstein, try and find out what kind of things they’re up to here at the moment that You-Know-Who might take an interest in. I’ll keep my eyes on anyone else who’s about, see if I can spot any candidates for a certain tattoo.” She glanced quickly around, her eyes running over the closed black door. “I’d love to sneak off, maybe have a scout around with a different face, but I don’t think us splitting up is a good idea. I don’t like this place.”
“Me neither,” Remus replied with feeling. “That sounds like a good plan. We just have to…”
“But it’s so interesting!” Tonks’ sudden gush caught Remus by surprise as he found the clipboard thrust abruptly into his face. “And I was reading all about it, Professor, and I think it’s a fascinating theory, don’t you?”
A throat was carefully cleared to their left.
Tonks looked up and beamed brightly. “Oh hello! I didn’t see you there!”
Following her gaze, Remus turned. Standing in an archway that led away into yet another grey corridor, a tall figure in robes of white and grey gave a slow and oily smile.
In spite of some notable physical differences, the immediate impression of this man was frankly… Snapeish. He was tall and rake thin with long straight limbs that seemed to bend only with slow reluctance and a small head that seemed to have been deposited upon his towering body with very little thought to the proportions. His hair was thick, dark and sleek and oiled back, his eyes deep sunk as they gazed from with the shadowed hollows of his eye sockets. His nose was long, straight and pointed, almost seeming to thrust at the watcher like a ballistic weapon and his wide mouthed smile was curled at the edges with distinctly unpleasant intent. Remus was instantly certain that this man was unlikely to become a dear and valued friend.
At his side, Tonks was regarding the newcomer over the top of her glasses with a raised eyebrow. It seemed she had come to much the same conclusion.
“Ah, Professor Lupin.” The man’s voice dripped with insincere friendliness; his eyes ran over Remus with a vaguely analytical air. “The infamous werewolf teacher. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.”
Remus managed a smile. “Thank you… Professor Goldstein?”
For some reason, he caught a glimpse of Tonks inexplicably wincing. The man’s oily smile spread. “Arcadius Croll, actually. Chief medical researcher for the facility.” He chuckled, an utterly humourless sound somewhat akin to claws scraping over a blackboard. “You thought I was Goldstein? My, for a teacher, you really haven’t done your homework.”
Remus regarded the man slowly, fighting to keep his features impassive in spite of the wave of irritation that had flooded him at the man’s smarmy mockery. He forced himself to be consoled at least in that Croll wasn’t Goldstein and hence he hopefully wouldn’t have to spend much time in his company.
“My apologies,” he replied carefully. “It is very difficult to find much in the way of information about the Institute. Your records are not openly available to those of us not cleared at the Ministry.”
Croll shrugged. “A necessary precaution. It would not do to advertise our work here, as I’m sure you’ll agree. But you are here now.” His slow smirk was frankly disconcerting. “To be honest, Professor, from all I’ve heard of you, I rather expected to see you here sooner.”
Remus nodded slightly. “The events of Kane’s capture were quite traumatic for me, Mr Croll. I did not feel comfortable accepting your invitation until now.”
Again came the nasty chuckle “ Croll’s eyes glinted unpleasantly. “I wasn’t talking about the invitation.”
Remus stiffened. At his side, he caught a glimpse of Tonks’ fingernails digging hard into the back of her clipboard.
Croll’s smile widened. Against his sallow skin, his thin lips resembled a melon rind.
“Gentlemen. Now be polite.”
Remus started at the unexpected voice. He turned again.
The doorway through which Cymone had slipped moments earlier was now open. And in it, dressed in identical robes to Croll, stood a woman. She was medium in height, taller than Tonks though not by much, her build slender, her hair a reddish brown that glinted with colour in the light of the orbs along the walls. She was perhaps a couple of years Remus’ senior although she did not look it, her face still pretty and soft featured, but with brown eyes that were ruthlessly firm. Although not openly unfriendly, there was a distinct lack of welcome in her cross-armed stance.
And there was something else… Remus felt himself frown as he fought for an instant with his treacherous memory, unable to escape a brief sensation that he had encountered this woman before. There was something about her features, something he knew, something he was familiar with. Perhaps being so close in age, he had known her at Hogwarts…
“Rebekah Goldstein.” The statement was soft but distinct “ Remus forced himself to concentrate on the matter in hand. “Head of this facility. And you are Remus Lupin.” Quite pointedly, she made no move towards him and nor did she offer her hand; instead she simply cocked her head almost thoughtfully to one side and ran her eyes across him with casual indifference. “I have to say, Professor, you aren’t quite what I expected.” She smiled slightly, not friendly but without Croll’s deliberate nastiness, just the cool smile of a professional going about business of which she could have done without. “And judging by your little faux pas, I’m not quite what you expected either.”
Remus shot a glance at Tonks, who was snickering against her clipboard “ he mentally vowed to have words with her about sharing such information as the gender of their contacts in future. “To be honest, Professor, I didn’t know what to expect.”
Professor Goldstein’s nose wrinkled. “Rebekah will do fine. I can’t abide being called Professor, I’m afraid, and Goldstein is my husband.”
Remus smiled more genuinely. “I rather like being called Professor myself. But if you want you can call me…”
“I’m sure you do.” The interruption was cool “ in spite of the invitation to informality, Rebekah remained distant. “But there is no need for you to return the favour, Professor. Since you like the title so, I shall use it.”
Remus considered protesting, but Rebekah’s steely gaze convinced him not to try. At his side, Tonks’ laughter had vanished as she stared at the woman with narrow eyes.
Rebekah’s gaze abruptly shifted. “Your assistant, I presume?”
Tonks plastered on her most vapid smile. “Undine Blackwood, Professor Goldstein. I’ve been reading your treatise on the feral mind and I must say…”
“Must you?” Rebekah’s cocked eyebrow dried Tonks’ fake enthusiasm in an instant. The Auror bowed her head as though embarrassed but Remus could see her eyes glittering darkly behind her glasses. Rebekah Goldstein was not making many more friends here than Croll.
Remus glanced between the two faces, Croll’s oily smile and Rebekah’s chilly rudeness and sighed internally. Clearly, he was not particularly welcomed.
Which rather begged the question of why on earth he had been invited in the first place.
He felt his nerves tingling as he looked again between the two faces, remembered the intricate security precautions that had now effectively sealed him inside. Just why was he here when the Institute’s head and her medical chief so obviously wished him far away? Had he truly been invited here to lend his insight into Abraham Kane’s unexpected condition? Or, as Croll’s nasty statement had implied, was there some motive afoot against him?
Folke’s last words had implied something sinister lurked beneath the surface of this place. He could only hope that it would not claim him.
“Well, Professor,” Her tone abruptly businesslike, Rebekah Goldstein interrupted his dark thoughts as she stepped briskly forwards, dusting her hands sharply against invisible grime. “I think it is fair to say that we all want to get this over with as quickly as possible. If you’d care to come with me, I will take you to Kane.”
Remus nodded, trying to fight off the warring butterflies that had suddenly flocked to life in the region of his stomach. But nonetheless; plots by Voldemort, sealed doors and seeing Abraham Kane again “ it wasn’t as though he didn’t have plenty to be nervous about.
And the Rebekah spoke and her words spent his spiralling butterflies into a tailspin.
“Your assistant can wait here.” At the expression on his face, she elaborated. “We don’t allow access to Level Six to just anyone, I’m afraid, and although you have been cleared by the Ministry, she hasn’t. There really is no point in having a top security area that’s open to any person who happens to wander by.”
Remus mustered a smile. “Of course, I can understand that. But I was really hoping to show Undine…”
“No.” Rebekah’s sharp syllable cracked like a whip. “She waits here.”
Tonks smiled brightly, but the glow of the smile seemed slightly more wan than before. “Never mind, Professor, it can’t be helped,” she said with heartily false cheer. “I’ll just...umm…” She rolled her eyes pointedly around the room. “Entertain myself, I guess.”
The butterflies continued to plummet at her obvious indication of an intent to... explore. “Well then, do that.” Remus fought to smile but his mouth was deathly dry. If they catch her… “But do try and stay out of the way.” He met her eyes pointedly. “We don’t want to upset anyone.”
Tonks beamed. “Of course not.” Although a smile curled her lips, her eyes were deadly serious. “Good luck, Professor.”
He nodded, the dryness spreading like a desert sandstorm as the reality of where he was and what he was about to do crashed down. “Thank you.”
“Professor?” Rebekah smiled as she stood in the archway that moments before had held Croll “ the older man had vanished without a word at some point during their conversation. “This way.”
Remus and Tonks exchanged a final glance. Tonks managed a smile. Remus did not.
And then he was walking, following Rebekah down the grey corridor, his heart pounding ridiculously, his breathing rapid. He was inside the Feral Institute with no way out but by the guidance of others. Voldemort was planning something within these walls “ any face he met could be a Death Eater. And now, in spite of his own resolution never again to lay eyes upon him, he was about to once more enter the presence of what remained of the werewolf who had killed his mother and bitten him as a child.
All in all, he’d had better days.
But it was too late to back out now.
Just ahead, Rebekah Goldstein, cool and distant, was tapping her wand against a series of numbers drawn on the paintwork. Abruptly the wall shimmered and dissolved, exposing another silver lift grill. The Institute head stepped briskly inside and indicated he should join her.
Bracing his shoulders tightly, Remus took at deep breath and quietly followed.