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Imperius by Pallas

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A/N: I would like to state for the record that all characters in this section were named before reading HBP. Honest! ;)

6: Shaking Hands

Hideous embarrassment, Remus mused as he forced a smile onto his face, was, fortunately, never quite as utterly appalling the second time around as the first.

From across the Level Five reception room of the Feral Institute, Felisha Hathaway smiled back with the grimly determined air of one who already knew that it was impossible for this time to go as badly as the last.

Remus could only hope she was right.

It seemed less the passing of a week and more an indistinguishable blur of time that flew past with unnecessary haste that had brought Remus once more within the grim grey walls of the Feral Institute. The teaching of his classes was a dim memory, punctuated only by occasionally vivid recollections of Harry Potter’s suspicious eyes gazing at him from behind those familiar glasses and one rather notable incident during a duelling lesson involving Vincent Crabbe and a badly aimed combination of rictusempra and tarantallegra that he doubted he could erase from his memory even with a scrubbing brush. The weekend had struck abruptly, its imminence heralded on Thursday by Severus Snape’s bad tempered appearance with his first dose of Wolfsbane potion in advance of the following Wednesday’s full moon and then suddenly it was Sunday morning and he was meeting Tonks in Hogsmeade in preparation for their journey to the moors.

They had discussed plans along the way. Since it seemed unlikely that Rebekah Goldstein would be any more welcoming of “Undine” than she had been before, they had decided that divide and conquer was the way to go. Remus would continue his efforts to squeeze blood from the stone that was Rebekah; Tonks would concentrate her efforts on whoever else she happened to encounter. But with a glee that was frankly unbecoming, the Auror had then made a suggestion.

“What about Felisha?” the metamorphmagus had declared as they watched the tourist steam train pull away from the lonely station and turned to start up the hill into the woods.

Remus had fixed her with the dirtiest look he could muster. “What about her?”

“You know her.” Tonks’ grin had been wicked. “She may be a useful contact for us on the inside of the Institute. We could use that.”

Remus had felt his insides give an uncomfortable squirm. “I suppose.”

Tonks had gazed airily up into the leafy canopy. “But of course,” she had added with humour-filled nonchalance. “That would mean you’d have to actually talk to her…”

He had protested that such a thing would not be a problem. Out there on the moor, it had all seemed so easy.

Staring Felisha in the face, he found it rather less so.

He risked a glance over his shoulder to where Tonks was standing, chatting with Cymone beside the lift shaft. After a stern conversation on the long walk across the dewy heather, he had drawn from the Auror a faithful promise not to stir up trouble regarding his former schoolmate for fear of destroying what tentative communication they could manage. Given the quite inordinate and unreasonable amount of pleasure she seemed to take from his discomfort, he had not been entirely convinced of her sincerity but he had been relieved to note than when they had found Felisha waiting for them in the reception room, Tonks had stepped politely back and allowed him to be humiliated a little more privately.

“Remus.” There was a nervous heartiness to Felisha’s tone and she stepped determinedly forward towards him. “Do you have a minute? I was hoping we could have a word.”

Remus, who had been expecting the same rush of forced pleasantries before a rapid flight from his presence as happened last time, was taken slightly aback.

“Ummm… all right,” he managed. “That is… if I’m not needed yet?”

The last was spoken in a slightly raised voice as he turned his head towards Cymone. The little woman jumped at being addressed, her eyes wide beneath her crooked blue eye shadow as she picked nervously at her sloppily painted silver nails. As she always did when faced with Remus, she began to twitch nervously.

“P…Professor Goldstein will be a few minutes yet,” she stammered. Tonks, standing beside her, raised a pointed eyebrow as she battled not to smirk.

Remus blessed her with a glare that nearly sent Cymone fleeing for her desk. With a slightly apologetic smile, he turned back to Felisha.

“Looks like I’m all yours then,” he said with awkward cheer.

The distinct beginnings of a blush touched the edges of Felisha’s cheeks. In spite of her promise, he distinctly heard Tonks snort with laughter.

Felisha braced her shoulders. “This way,” she indicated.

Battling against the heat of his own cheeks, Remus turned to follow.

They walked in blessed silence down yet another dull grey corridor, avoiding each other’s glances as they both waged an unspoken battle to behave like normal human beings. Fortunately the awkward walk ended quickly “ Felisha stopped before a wooden door and pushed it hurriedly ajar.

“My office,” she said with a wave of her hand, indicating that he should enter. Nodding politely in response, Remus stepped inside.

The room he entered was quite unlike any other part of the Institute that Remus had seen. For one it was brightly lit and full of colour; there was a rainbow rug covering much of the floor and a Celtic tapestry draped over the chair’s back, a framed English landscape in golden summer sunlight glinted on the wall and the desk was a muddle of vividly painted pen pots and patterned notebooks, some laid open to reveal a quite familiar, neatly curled script.

Felisha had apparently followed his gaze. “This building is so grim,” she said with feeling, in the closest to a natural tone that Remus had heard her use with him for years. “I had to do something or I’d have gone round the bend. Grey, grey and more grey.” She laughed suddenly, though her expression was wry. “You know, if I work here long enough, I can just see myself cackling like a lunatic as I run up and down the corridors throwing paint at the walls.” She gave a mock-thoughtful frown. “I think Croll would look quite fetching in a creative splatter of gold and puce.”

Remus chuckled too at the mental image of Croll’s pointed nose dripping with hurled colour. “I think I’d pay good money to see someone throw paint at Arcadius Croll.”

The warm smile on Felisha’s face took Remus back by twenty years. “So speaks a man who has clearly met our charming Chief of Medicine. Trust me, you’d need to join the queue.”

Again they shared their laughter and the years seemed to drop away into the corridors of Hogwarts castle as he shared patrol and a shy joke with a pretty, curly haired prefect from Ravenclaw. He remembered the tentative beginnings of a nervous friendship with a girl he’d admired for a while but somehow never found the nerve to speak to, quiet study sessions in the library, usually suggested by a Lily who would inevitably remember some urgent appointment that needed her immediate attention and depart hurriedly with a grin. And he remembered the way all those fragile bridges had come crashing down on the day that Sirius Black had ushered her into the Prefect’s bathroom just as he had been pulling himself from the water…

His laughter abruptly died as the wash of briefly-forgotten awkwardness flooded back across his senses. The look on her face…

Felisha’s laughter dried away in tandem with his creeping blush. She sighed deeply.

“Remus, this is silly,” she exclaimed, the steel in her voice parrying her own embarrassment ruthlessly. “For two intelligent, reasonable adults in their thirties to continually let some foolish teenage prank ruin every conversation they have “ we can’t let this go on. We let our friendship at school dwindle away because of that stupid night and now look at us! We used to be friends, Remus, and now we can barely manage to string together a civilised conversation!” She took a deep breath. “I wanted to talk to you now because I wanted to ask that we put this whole business behind us. I want us to make a fresh start. A start without all this damnable blushing.” Firmly, she thrust one hand out towards him, palm extended. “Hello,” she said with measured cheer. “Nice to meet you. I’m Felisha Hathaway.”

Remus stared at the hand. He stared at Felisha. And then he reached out, enfolded her fingers in his own and firmly shook her hand.

“Remus Lupin,” he said with a slowly dawning smile. “Nice to meet you too.”

Felisha gave a rueful chuckle. “Now, wasn’t that easy? Not a blush in sight.”

Remus joined her. “Oh yes. My cheeks are as pale as ever.”

Felisha cocked her head thoughtfully. “I’d suggest covering you in puce and gold but I’m not sure that those are your colours. Though a nice burnt orange and a bit of forest green would offset your eyes very nicely.”

Remus shook his head, determined to ward off further blushing. “I’ll bear that in mind the next time I want to be splattered with paint.”

As her laughter faded, Felisha glanced towards the door. In the quiet lull that followed their moment of levity, Remus could distant voices at the end of the corridor.

“I’d better let you get on.” Felisha brushed absently at her dark brown ringlets. “Considering the mood that Rebekah has been in recently, I don’t like to think what she’d say if I made you late.”

Reality re-imposed itself with a dull thump. “I suppose so.”

“But we’ll catch up.” Felisha’s smile was sincere. “We can meet for a drink “ I’ll owl you about it. You’ll be at Hogwarts?”

Remus nodded. “That’s right.”

“Good.” Felisha smiled again. “Do you want me to take you back?”

He shook his head. “I think I can find my own way. But thank you.” He smiled, genuinely. “It was nice to have a proper conversation again.”

She shared the smile. “Wasn’t it just? I’ll be in touch, Remus. And I’ll be utterly unembarrassed about it.”

He glanced back over his shoulder as he turned towards the door. “I look forward to it.”

And then he stepped out into the corridor and headed back towards reception with shoulders that felt oddly lighter and cheeks that were remarkably cool, shared laughter ringing in his ears. For the first time in more than twenty years, he’d just held a reasonably normal conversation with Felisha Hathaway. He’d honestly never thought he’d see the day. A part of him half expected to see a flying pig flittering down the dull grey passage ahead of him for after what had just happened, almost anything seemed possible. Perhaps Rebekah Goldstein would greet him warmly and offer to teach him to play the maracas. Perhaps Arcadius Croll would crack a genuine smile.

The loss of Felisha’s potential friendship had always been one of his life’s great regrets.

But perhaps it wasn’t too late to change that.

* * *

Remus’ buoyant mood lasted until he arrived back in reception to find Tonks-as-Undine engaged in a slightly glassy eyed conversation with a pair of strangers. Cymone had disappeared, presumably behind the slightly ajar door of Rebekah’s office and Remus had a strong suspicion as to why; although the tall woman in researcher’s robes with dark, flyaway hair and a vaguely Trelawney-like air seemed harmless enough, the man at her side wearing plain brown robes and sporting a brown goatee was flexing a rather mangled right hand that bore the unmistakable drag of canine teeth.

“…and I find a few songs of hope and peace do wonders for the brewing process,” the woman was saying, her long fingers tracing the outline of a series of Celtic pendants and zodiac symbols hanging on leather thongs around her neck. “Wolfsbane is such a delicate potion but even volatile ingredients can be soothed by the presence of harmony and goodwill. I make sure to cleanse every negative thought before I even touch a cauldron and Dolph here has told me that the love behind my Wolfsbane can be found within the taste…”

Tonks glazed eyes alighted upon Remus with an almost desperate air. “Professor!” she hailed with a heartiness that made woman beside her jump slightly. “Why don’t you come and meet Zelia? She’s the Institute’s Potions Mistress.”

The woman smiled in an unnervingly ethereal manner. “I’m Zelia Phelan,” she introduced herself breezily. “And you must be Professor Lupin. Your mother developed the Wolfsbane potion, I believe?”

“That’s right.” Potion brewers, it seemed, came in all shapes and sizes, Remus mused as he accepted Zelia’s outstretched hand, oddly aware that she was the first member of staff besides Felisha to willingly touch him. Snape was as bitter and sour as his ingredients, taciturn and unhelpful; his mother had been cheerful and practical in her approach, never disheartened by a failure or over-inflated by success. And now here was Zelia Phelan who sang songs over her potions and cleansed her negative thoughts before brewing. Remus couldn’t help but think that if cleansing negative thoughts were necessary to potion making, Snape would never be able to touch a cauldron again.

“A wonderful development,” Zelia intoned with a vague smile. “It has made a great difference here at the Institute. Wouldn’t you agree, Dolph my dear?”

The man’s smile was rich with dry tolerance. “Very much so, Madam Phelan,” he replied, his voice soft and deep and tinged with the slightest hint of a Germanic accent. “Many of the residents had never been able to acquire the potion prior to their… arrival here.”

Zelia’s pale eyes suddenly opened wide. “But where are my manners? Professor Lupin, this is Dolph Greymoor. He was recently appointed as ombudsman to represent the needs of our residents to those of us charged with their care; he is, in fact, the only resident we have here who is permitted on Level Five. Dolph, this is Professor Lupin, a fellow werewolf and a teacher at Hogwarts School.”

Dolph’s neat eyebrow rose slightly. “Truly? The werewolf teacher? I had heard of you, Professor, but given my…” he cleared his throat slightly, “...unfortunate situation at present, I had never thought to cross your path. An honour indeed. Though I hope you’ll forgive me if I don’t offer my hand.”

He raised his damaged right hand into view with a slightly ironic twist of the lips. Remus fought down a wince as his eyes ran across the vivid red tooth marks torn out of the flesh, the twisted thumb and the half missing middle finger and the continued scrape of scars along the wrist that thankfully vanished from view beneath a sturdy leather wrist guard that he could only suspect was necessary to support the damaged tendons. The wounds did not look more than a year or two old.

“I was bitten early last summer.” Dolph answered the unspoken question; it seemed that Remus’ curiosity had registered in his eyes. “I was part of a research team in the Black Forest and we had a quite unpleasant encounter one full moon night. I came to England in order to learn about the Wolfsbane potion but there was an…incident during my stay.” He shook his head. “I should have been more careful. But I am not a bitter man, Professor. If I truly am as much a danger as I briefly became, then it is better I am here. I would not wish to see anyone else get hurt.”

Remus felt a painful stab of guilt. By the law of the land, he too should have been incarcerated here twice over, living side by side with Dolph and the other residents; he too should have been trapped with no more to look forward too in life than the next experiment on the research calendar. It was not a life he wanted, not a life he felt he deserved but it was the life that had been forced upon men and women like Dolph who had probably never come nearly as close to turning feral as he had. He had been lucky; he had a loyal family and influential friends like Dumbledore and Moody who had protected him from such a fate as this. So many others had no such luck. But they no more deserved this place than he did.

He felt a well of helpless fury surge within his chest. This whole building was a travesty. It wasn’t fair.

“Professor Lupin?”

He looked up. Alexander Aylward, the security guard, was standing impassively in the mouth of the corridor.

“If you’d like to come with me,” he said in his rumbling baritone. “Professor Goldstein and Dr Croll are waiting for you on Level Six.”

Remus gave a polite nod. “Of course.”

“We must also be going.” Zelia smiled beatifically. “We must take today’s Wolfsbane down to distribute amongst the residents. Dolph?”

The urbane werewolf nodded respectfully in Remus’ direction. “Again, professor, a pleasure. And you, Miss Blackwood.”

Remus and Tonks both returned the gesture. With a slight smile, Dolph turned and followed Zelia into the lift. A moment later, both had sunk from view.

Remus turned to Tonks. “You’ll be all right here, Undine?”

Tonks’ smile was slightly pointed. “I’ll entertain myself, Professor. Just like I did before.”

He longed to tell her to take care but such an admonishment would have sounded strange from a Professor leaving his assistant to sit alone in a grey room. “Have fun then,” he said softly instead, placing the true weight of his meaning into his eyes. Her slight smile implied that the message had been received and understood.

“I will,” she replied.

With a final smile, Remus turned and made his way over to join the unsmiling Aylward, who fell in at his side without a word. Remus felt himself take a deep breath as he approached the lift to Level Six. On the one hand, at least he knew what to expect. But on the other, it was still Kane.

And Rebekah. And Croll.

In other words, it had all the makings of a fun afternoon.