- "I'm going to find out how his killer did this... I'm going to bring him to justice. I am not letting him walk free." -
The weather seemed to reflect the Lupins’ mood perfectly as they stood outside, assembled around the freshly dug grave. The skies were crowded with darks clouds, fit to burst with rain, and thunder was rumbling in the distance. The family listened quietly as the priest read the prayers from his book and the family repeating when necessary. Remus didn’t understand why they had to do all of this; they could have just as easily had a Wizard-style funeral, which was a lot quicker. But, what with having a very proud Muggle-born mother, he wasn’t in any position to question it.
He stood between Cassie and Lucy, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes gazing at the priest, but not really seeing him. He was the only one of the lot that was not crying. Looking around, he saw his mother’s face buried in her husband’s shoulder. His father was staring at the ground, but Remus could still see the tears clinging to the tip of his nose. Lucy was looking intently at the ground, her face tear streaked, while Cassie watched the casket, determined not to see anything else. Her face much resembled her little sister’s.
Remus found that he couldn’t cry with them. He had cried too much already and had told himself he wouldn’t anymore. He didn’t even have it in him if he wanted to; he had been robbed of his tears and was left to watch miserably as the priest closed the prayer book. He then allowed the family to come forward to place roses on the casket. Still, Remus wondered, how was it that his parents hadn’t gone to pieces like this before now? They were old enough; they didn’t need to see the actual casket go down into the ground to understand that it was really happening. Or maybe they did? After all, he was their oldest son. The worst thing that could happen to a parent is to outlive their own child. Even so, Remus was now plagued with the thought of wondering why he had accepted it so quickly.
Shaking his head tiredly, he placed his rose down and looked around to see where everyone had gone. Squinting over his shoulder, he could see his family in the distance, presumably heading back to their cars or their Apparition spots. He could see the top of his father’s head standing near the entrance to the cemetery, so he knew they were waiting for him. He would join them soon; he just needed to do something first. Making sure no one was still around, he turned back to the grave, wanting to do this before they lowered it down, which was something he didn’t want to witness. He ran his hand across the smooth wood and stared down at that casket.
“I don’t know what to say,” he mumbled. “I really don’t. I just can’t believe it happened. You don’t deserve it… you didn’t deserve to be killed, especially by someone like Wilkins. He just catches you off guard, doesn’t even give you a chance to defend yourself. I know you wouldn’t want me blaming myself, and Mum and Dad told me the same thing, but I just can’t help it… something could have been said.” Remus paused for a moment, half expecting a response, but knowing that none would come. Sighing, he continued. “Maybe you were just one of those people who weren’t supposed to live that long. I hate when people say that, though. How does anyone know how long they’re supposed to live? Everything’s unpredictable; you didn’t know you were going to die. You didn’t know you’d be gone by the time you were sixteen.”
Remus turned around, thinking he heard someone say his name, but at the next second he thought he imagined it. Shrugging, he turned back around.
“I didn’t know you were scared of me,” he said quietly, his throat constricting slightly. “Why didn’t you tell me? If I had to hear it from anyone, I would’ve liked to have heard it from you… you’d be able to explain why. Then again, you wouldn’t really need to explain; you were just afraid that your little brother could turn into something that could kill you… I can’t really blame you. You were only seven at the time; you had every right to be scared. That must be why you were so protective, to make up for it. You didn’t have to make up for it; I would’ve forgiven you… just like I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Remus felt a hand on his shoulder and, for one second, he thought it could have been Blake, coming to say that he didn’t blame him. But Remus saw that it was his father coming to retrieve him.
“Come on, Remus,” he said, drawing his son away. “They need to “ they need to do it now.”
Remus didn’t even need to ask what his dad was talking about; he just allowed himself to be led through the rows of graves towards the car. Remus knew his father didn’t want him to see them lower the casket into the freshly dug grave. One part of Remus didn’t want to see it either. Still, as he got into the backseat next to Lucy, he couldn’t help but look out the window and see them lower it down… making him realise, at last, that it was irretrievable. Blake was gone forever.
Remus didn’t understand how people could go from being so upset to laughing and smiling in the span of an hour. The moment he got home he had gone into the kitchen to help his mother with the food. After ten minutes, he could hear his family laughing and talking lively. He couldn’t bring himself to laugh with them, mostly because he didn’t know why they were. Were they not just mourning the death of someone dear to them? His mother could clearly sense what he was thinking, because she placed a hand on his shoulder and told him that it was normal.
Remus didn’t care if it was normal or not; he couldn’t bear to be in a room with people who were laughing when he had a painful knot in his chest. He abandoned his position of helping and stole up to his room, where he would be spared listening. Up on the third floor he couldn’t hear anything, save for the low buzz of activity coming from the living room but, thankfully, it was harder to distinguish. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything else other than sit on his bed and stare at the wall opposite him.
He knew Blake wouldn’t want him dwelling on his death too much, that he would want him to go on and make the best of things. Remus wanted to grant that wish; he just didn’t know how he could when he was feeling the way he was. He knew it was a little rude to stay away from his family, especially now, but he expected them to accept how he was feeling. This was why he was surprised when the door opened, revealing his Uncle Albert.
Remus liked his Uncle Albert; he was his father’s brother. From the time Remus was two his family could tell that he and his uncle resembled each other very much. He also like that his uncle had a fun personality; whenever Remus really needed a laugh his uncle would be there, doing something or other to cheer up his nephew. Even today, his uncle managed a grin for him, knowing that he needed someone friendly around, someone to make him feel better.
“How come you’re up here?” he asked curiously, leaving the door open a crack behind him.
Remus shrugged his shoulders tiredly. “How are they all laughing down there?” he asked, looking straight past his uncle, towards the door.
“Because they knew that that’s what Blake would have wanted. He wouldn’t want them to be upset over him for too long. He’d want them to have fun.” He paused and looked meaningfully at Remus. “And he wouldn’t want them to sit up in their room. Please, Remus, don’t stay up here alone.”
Remus shook his head.
“I know this is hard for you. You think it’s your fault, but, Remus, it’s not. You can’t know everything that’s going to happen. And even if you do, you won’t always be able to stop it.”
Remus placed his head on his knees and stared through his uncle. When he next spoke it seemed as if he was speaking to someone else.
“I could’ve tried… Blake always tried everything to help me and the one time when I should’ve helped him, I didn’t. And it cost him his life.” For the first time, Remus actually looked at his uncle and saw that his uncle was looking dismayed at him. Remus couldn’t blame him; he knew he should stop blaming himself. “I know I should stop saying that, but I can’t help it.” He cleared his throat loudly. “But I know what I can do.”
That was what he had been doing in his room, other than sparing himself from hearing the unbearable laughter of his relatives. He knew what he had to do; he knew Wilkins wasn’t human… he knew that much. All he needed to do was find out what he was and expose him, prove him the killer, get the terrible guilt of his own chest, and give Blake the justice he deserved.
“I’m going to find out how his killer did this… I’m going to bring him to justice. I am not letting him walk free.”
Remus glanced at his uncle, who was staring at him with a peculiar expression, an expression that clearly wanted to know who had done it. Remus knew that he was not going to ask, for which he was grateful. Instead, his uncle came over and placed a hand on his nephew’s shoulder.
“If that’s what you really want to do… be careful then.” He sighed at Remus’s determination; he knew that when Remus wanted something, he would go to any lengths to get it. If he wanted to catch Blake’s killer, the thought of his own death wouldn’t even stop him. He would do anything to achieve his goal. “But, for now, just come downstairs. Trust me, you’ll feel better.”
Remus nodded mutely, knowing that his uncle was right, and followed him down to the living room. The moment he entered the room he could tell why his family were laughing and sounding like they were having a good time. They were talking about the days when Blake was with them, and how much they all loved him. They knew that he was happy now; they knew that this was what he wanted for them. He wanted them to be happy; he wanted them to laugh and have fun. He didn’t want them to mourn for too long; he just wanted them to remember him.
Remus scanned the room and saw Cassie talking with their grandmother. Remus instantly felt guilty about the way he had talked to her the day before. He knew she was just trying to do what she thought was best for him. So, weaving his way over, he pulled her aside, saying that they needed to talk.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like I did.”
Cassie didn’t say anything for a moment, making Remus think that she wasn’t going to forgive him. But, as he began to walk away, she stopped him.
“I was never mad at you for yelling at me,” she said sincerely. “I knew it would be hard on you, but you needed to know. I didn’t want you to think any differently about your brother.” She pulled him into a hug. “You’re my last little brother; I want what’s best for you.” She let him go, excusing herself to the kitchen, where she had to help their mother.
Remus folded his arms across his chest and took a deep breath. Looking at the room, at the smiling faces of his relatives, he could still see a trace of sadness within and he knew this was how it was supposed to be.
“Remus?” He looked down to see Lucy standing beside him, looking at him concernedly. “Are you okay?”
Remus smiled down at her.
“Yeah, Lucy,” he said, feeling that now he could say it and actually mean it. “I think I’m going to be okay.”
James, Sirius, and Peter had been warned by Professor Dumbledore not to mention anything about Blake’s death, unless Remus brought it up on his own accord. They didn’t exactly need a warning because they hadn’t planned on talking about it, unless Remus wanted to. Now they were more resolute in their decision, since Professor Dumbledore told them how it could bring a breakdown on Remus’s part. They were confused when the Headmaster told them this, as they had seen Remus break down when he first saw his brother. But Dumbledore told them that that wasn’t anything compared to the one he had seen.
Apparently the summer before their first year the former Headmaster of Hogwarts, Armando Dippet, had refused point blank to allow Remus into school, claiming that he would be a danger to the other students. When the Hogwarts letters were sent out Remus got one that told him he wasn’t going to be going to school that year. Not long after the letters were sent did Professor Dumbledore step in from Transfiguration Professor to Headmaster. He soon found that one of the students that were supposed to be entering his first year had been refused. Curious as to what the reason was, Dumbledore looked up the student’s case and came upon some old records from St. Mungo’s.
In the records, he discovered that this student had been bitten by a werewolf at the age of four and that was the sole reason he wasn’t allowed to attend school. Dumbledore knew he was too late to stop the letter from being sent to the boy, but he could still rectify the problem by hurrying to the student’s residence. When he arrived he was let in by a boy he recognised as a Gryffindor entering his third year, Blake Lupin. The boy was clearly shocked to see one of his professors at his front door, but let him in when Dumbledore told him why he was there.
He was led into the kitchen, where he saw the rejected student being talked to by his parents, his mother holding what he recognised as an official Hogwarts’ letter. He listened carefully to what they were telling him. They were explaining, slowly and quietly, that, because of his lycanthropy, he wasn’t allowed to attend school. The boy sat silently, his head resting on his hands, staring determinedly at the tabletop, listening as they talked to him, obviously resenting what he was being told.
When his parents ceased speaking, he looked at them with cold eyes.
“So I can’t go to school because I’m a four-legged freak?” he hissed, his voice like venom. His parents looked at each other, knowing that an outburst was coming. “Doesn’t that moron get that it wasn’t my fault? What’s he think? That I’m going to taint his precious students with my disease?” He gripped his hair, a frustrated expression on his face. “Its idiots like him that makes me hate myself! I’m not a freak! But they keep treating me like one! Do they think I asked for it? Do they think I wanna be a stupid werewolf?!”
“Remus,” his father said slowly. “We know it’s not your fault, but really, can we help this? They’re not going to budge.”
“Well, why can’t they? I’m sick of people treating me like a monster! I’m only a werewolf twelve times a year, the rest of the time I’m human like everyone else! I’m a human who has feelings and wants to go to school like anyone else! Why can’t they get over themselves and realise that? I didn’t want to be a werewolf!”
Professor Dumbledore listened silently as Remus shouted loudly; venting every bitter feeling he had been building up. He knew he couldn’t deny this boy the chance to be normal, the chance to have friends and have the life he wanted. He knew it was unfair of Professor Dippet to keep his prejudices against this boy. This boy was just like any other; he deserved a normal life. Remus’s brother stepped forward; offering to teach him what he learnt at school, but Remus shook his head. If he couldn’t go to school, then why bother learning anything? They wanted him to go through life with an empty mind; he might as well do what they wanted. His mother suggested sending him to a Muggle school, the one she was supposed to attend before she got her acceptance letter. Remus resented that idea even more; he was a wizard and he wasn’t going to pretend that he wasn’t.
It was a horrible sight to witness, seeing an eleven year old boy berating himself for something he had no control over. Dumbledore wished he would never have to witness it again.
“I believe I have the solution to your problem,” Dumbledore said, speaking for the first time.
The Lupins looked up, startled to see the wizard in their kitchen.
“Professor Dumbledore,” Mrs. Lupin said, thoroughly shocked.
Professor Dumbledore smiled good-naturedly at them. “Maria Benson,” he acknowledged. “Tom Lupin,” he said, holding out a hand for him to shake. “Clearly you don’t know yet, but Professor Armando Dippet is no longer in charge at Hogwarts. I have been chosen to take his place.”
“Really? Awesome!” Remus’s brother, Blake, cheered, only to receive reproachful looks from his parents. Professor Dumbledore, on the other hand, grinned and chuckled at him. “Wait… who’s going to be the Transfiguration teacher?”
“Minerva McGonagall, very talented witch. Remus,” he went on, finally addressing the boy he had come for. Remus looked up at him, looking as if he was embarrassed for having shouted like he had in the presence of a respected wizard. “No need to be embarrassed,” he said reassuringly. “As I said, I have been made Headmaster of Hogwarts and I was looking at the list of incoming first years and noticed that your name had been rejected.” Remus’s eyes flashed at the mention of this. “Now, I believe that if we took the necessary precautions there would be no reason as to why you would not be allowed to come to Hogwarts.”
“And what would they be?” Remus muttered, sounding as if he didn’t want to chance getting his hopes up.
“Well, the only thing we would need to do is to get you somewhere safe for your transformation, and that can easily be done. I will find a way to do this, so I have no hesitation in giving you this.” He handed Remus a parchment envelope, the very one he should have gotten. “Welcome to Hogwarts, Remus.”
That was the moment that made up for seeing Remus break down before him; Dumbledore was able to remedy the situation. This time he wasn’t able to; he could not raise wizards from the dead, no matter how much he wanted to. That was the reason he wanted James, Sirius and Peter to avoid mentioning anything that could bring about the conversation of Blake’s death. He didn’t want them to see what he had. They took it very well and even informed him that they hadn’t planned on saying anything about it.
The day Remus returned to school they had been up in the dormitory, playing a round of Exploding Snap. The dormitory door opened, revealing a rather nauseous looking Remus, clearly Apparating didn’t agree with him. He spotted his friends and smiled sleepily at them, and went on to unpack his trunk. His friends looked at each other, unsure of what to say. Luckily they didn’t have to think of anything, as Remus started the conversation for them.
“What work have I missed?” he asked, refolding one of his cloaks.
“Not much,” Sirius answered. “We have a Transfiguration test next week though, on distinguishing Animagi.”
Remus nodded, making a mental note to look at the few notes he had on the subject.
“How are you?” James asked uneasily. He knew Professor Dumbledore told them not to bring it up, but he still needed to check his friend’s wellbeing.
“I’m okay,” he said genuinely. “I decided not to dwell on it too much… it’s not what my brother would’ve wanted me to do.” He shuffled through his trunk, checking for something.
James, Sirius and Peter looked at each other, glad that they had gotten that over with.
“Still, Remus, if you need to talk about it…” Sirius offered.
“I’ll talk to you when I need to.”
Sirius nodded mutely. “You know, Remus, we’ve been thinking about something.”
Remus raised an eyebrow at them, from how Sirius said it, it sounded as if it wasn’t about Blake. They sounded excited about it. He nodded at them to continue.
“We’ve been talking a lot about Animagi in Transfiguration,” James explained. “And we’ve started learning about werewolves in Defence Against the Dark Arts. One of the things Hanks mentioned was that werewolves are only a danger to people, not to other animals.”
“Yeah?” Remus said. He was not quite sure of where they were going with this.
“If we become Animagi then we could help you,” Peter elaborated. “You can’t hurt us if we’re animals along with you.”
Remus bit his bottom lip. It was an interesting offer, but he didn’t know if he liked it very much. It wasn’t as if they had been friends for a long time that he could easily jump in and say yes; they had only just started talking. He had to consider the fact that something might go wrong with their attempts. It could disable them for life; he wasn’t ready to open them up to that risk.
“I dunno guys,” he said, getting up to put his trunk under his bed. “You know that becoming an Animagus is dangerous. And who would let three thirteen year olds do it?”
“Well, we don’t really need anyone’s permission to do it,” James said quickly, hoping that Remus wouldn’t be able to fully process it that quickly.
That was false hope, as Remus’s eyes widened and he began shaking his head wildly. “No,” he said firmly. “That’s illegal; do you know how much trouble you can get in?”
“Remus, we can do it in secret, no one would have to know!” Sirius argued.
“But people would find out. I’m not ready to let you guys do that to yourselves, and I don’t think I ever will be. You can get sent to Azkaban, you can get hurt doing it. You can get stuck like an animal forever.” He looked around the room, thinking that someone would come to his defence, but shook his head and stared straight into his friends’ eyes. “It’s not even like we’re best friends, that I’d be more willing to let you do it. We just started talking to each other.”
“But we don’t care about that, Remus,” Peter protested. “If there’s anything you need right now, its friends who’ll do anything to help you.”
Remus was silent as he took in Peter’s words. That was what he called loyalty. They were willing to sacrifice their own freedom and health for his sake. Still, if they wanted to help him so much, there was something they could do before becoming Animagi. They could help him get justice; they could help him catch Wilkins. Granted that could prove to be more dangerous than illegal animal transformations, it wouldn’t have to be that way. They could only help in the research; Remus would be the one to actually catch Wilkins.
“Then can you help me with something else?” he asked carefully. “Before we decide on the Animagus thing.” His friends leaned forward intently. “I want to bring justice to my brother’s death. I want to get Wilkins for it, to find out how he did it… I know he’s not human… I need to find out what he is. You guys can help me with that.”
“You want that more than us becoming Animagi for you?” James asked uncertainly.
“Yes… right now at least.”
“Then we’ll do it.”
Remus smiled gratefully at his friends. If anyone could help him right now, it was them. Maybe, when Wilkins was apprehended and he could think about it, he could reconsider his friends’ offer. He had to admit that there was a part of him that really wanted them to do it, it would lessen the pain. He would do anything to get rid of the pain… but he still wasn’t willing to let his friends challenge the Ministry and become illegal Animagi to do it. Leaning back on his bed, he stared up at the ceiling, thinking that this was how it was supposed to be. This was what his brother would have wanted, for Remus to have friends who would do anything for him, even at their own risk, just as he would have done.