19: A Necessary Sacrifice
There was no doubt in Remus Lupin’s mind, no question or debate. If the opportunity ever arose, he was going to hex Aloysius Sproule within an inch of his miserable little life.
“How did you plan to give Voldemort victory, Mr Lupin? Was your intention to remove your godfather by whatever means until the critical moment had passed?”
“No! Of course not! I wouldn’t…”
“Objection! This is pure fantasy, Minister! There’s no evidence to support this, nor to even suggest any such…”
“Objection sustained. Mr Sproule, please limit your remarks to the facts…”
“Perhaps your intention was to warn Lord Voldemort of his impending defeat, to let him escape and see the war drag on? Or maybe you intended to preserve the snake Nagini so that his defeat would be impossible?”
“Mr Sproule…”
“No! That’s impossible anyway! You heard Bert on the witness stand - history can’t be anything but what you remember! Our research into Time-Turning incidents has shown in every case so far that any changes you make will only result in making things as the history books say because it’s already implied by the future you come from! Even if I wanted to…”
“Aha! So you admit it was your desire to…”
“Objection!”
“Minister, please, this is outrageous!”
“Mr Sproule, you have been asked to restrain yourself! If you do not desist…”
“Minister, the accused has just confessed his desire to see Lord Voldemort reborn! I insist that this critical line of questioning should be…Ack!”
Quietly Kingsley sheathed his wand in his plum coloured robes, staring down at the red-faced prosecutor who was glaring up with undisguised resentment at the man who had just conjured the small explosive burst that had startled him into silence. Both Hermione and Padma, who had been on their feet and sharing the duty of shouting down his malicious tirade, exchanged a look that was half relief and half smirk as they dropped back into their seats.
“Mr Sproule.” Kingsley had changed so little in twenty years that it was hard to believe he had not been pulled straight out of the battle alongside them “ Remus fought not to smile at the so familiar tone of the deep and calming voice, and his firm expression of pure authority. Remus had never imagined his friend as ever being Minister for Magic material in the days of the Order, but seeing him as such now it was hard to imagine him as anything else.
“You were warned, Mr Sproule.” Although Kingsley’s tone was restrained, Remus knew him well enough to hear the carefully held back hints of utter dislike, as he gazed down at the unpleasant little man who had, moments before, been stalking around Teddy like a hunting spider. “The objection raised by both Madam Weasley and Madam Goldstein was sustained. Unless you have evidence to support this line of questioning, you will refrain from haranguing the accused about it. Understood?”
For a moment, Remus wondered if the prosecutor was prepared to do anything more than glare belligerently. But then, as though it was causing him physical pain, he nodded.
“Minister.” There was something vaguely repulsive about the fake wave of subservience that settled itself over Sproule’s features. “I am merely attempting to safeguard the wizarding world against the possible return of so evil a force.” Even from the gallery, Remus heard Hermione’s snort of disdain. “Surely Mr Lupin’s motives in reaching into that particular moment in the past are of the utmost significance in this case. His actions are beyond dispute. Now what must be established are his intentions and the danger he poses to the wizarding world.” Clearing his throat slightly, his eyes drifted to the corner of the seated Wizengamot where the older, crustier members seemed to have gathered. “After all, Mr Lupin’s genetic heritage as the son of a werewolf and a metamorphmagus has never previously been documented. There is no telling what effect such a combination of volatile blood could have upon the stability of the offspring’s mental state…”
“OBJECTION!”
Remus saw Hermione rocket to her feet, her face red, saw Harry’s fists clench and Kingsley’s jaw harden, but in that instant, taking the only action he could to prevent himself from leaping to his feet and ripping the little bastard to shreds, he flung his arm out in an attempt to hold back the inevitable fury of his wife.
His limb collided sharply with hers. It seemed Dora’s preferred method of keeping herself calm had been to try to restrain him.
He glanced over at her, finding his wife’s dark eyes staring at him from out of Ginny’s face. They burned with vivid fury.
“If I ever get that slimy little git alone…” she whispered fiercely, grasping his hand almost viciously, as though to keep herself anchored down by it.
Remus returned her hold, echoing the need to anchor himself. “Save me a piece.”
“Save us all one.” Remus had never heard Harry’s voice sound so cold. “I want him out. I know Kingsley’s wanted rid of him since he defended Umbridge at her trial, but unfortunately you can’t fire someone just for being an utter bastard.”
“Sustained.” There was an unmistakable hint of venom in Kingsley’s voice now. “Mr Sproule, I happen to know for a fact that Mr Lupin was tested extensively at St Mungo’s as a child to establish once and for all that there is no hint of lycanthropy in his make-up. And being a metamorphmagus, while unusual, has no effect upon a person’s mental state whatsoever. I can refer you to extensive reading material on the subject if you aren’t willing to take my word for it.” Remus glanced at his wife, knowing that Kingsley had been the one who had helped Mad-Eye in his investigation of her suitability for Auror training. Being certain a new recruit’s odd physiology wouldn’t affect her mental stability would have been a significant topic of research.
But Kingsley had continued and his gaze was glacial. “Mr Sproule, you have tried my patience today. You have flung accusations around with no facts to back them up, and made wild statements about the parentage of the accused that have no relevance to this case. Your personal prejudices have no place in this courtroom, and I have no wish to hear any more about them. You will prosecute this case fairly and by the law or I will have you removed and replaced. Is that clear?”
“Of course.” There was something unpleasantly oily about Sproule’s reply. “But Minister, by those criteria, should we not remark upon your “ ahem - personal prejudice in favour of the accused?”
Kingsley’s face darkened noticeably; Remus knew from experience that actually being able to see that Kingsley was angry was never a good sign. “What did you say?” he drawled coldly.
There was a hint of a smirk forming on Sproule’s face that made Remus’ fingers itch to slap it away. “Only that it is well known that you were a close friend of Mr Lupin’s parents, Minister, and I cannot help but wonder if your desire to stymie any kind of questioning of which you do not approve might be considered…a little biased?”
Remus could see Kingsley’s fists clench within his robes, his expression hewn from ice.
“Very well, Mr Sproule,” he replied with painful pleasantness, dropping back into his seat. “If you are so concerned then…Madam Breakspear? Perhaps you would care to take over?”
“Gladly.” Matilda Breakspear was not a tall woman and her tightly curled honey-blonde and grey-peppered hair and round face made her appear affable rather than alarming, but nonetheless one glance from her as she came to her feet was enough to make Sproule blanch in a most satisfying manner. “Mr Sproule, as someone who is unacquainted with the accused and unconnected with either his family or his parents, I would like to second the Minister. If you have facts to back your accusations, get them in order and present them as such. But without evidence, you will kindly restrict your remarks to what we know. The hurling of wild, unsupported accusations in court went out with your old friend Madam Umbridge, and I have no intention of allowing it back again.”
“But Madam Breakspear.” The crawling expression on Sproule’s face made Remus want to vomit. “The matter of the intentions of the accused is crucial. And since he did not choose to confide them to anyone, surely questioning him is the only means by which to discover just what he intended…”
“And perhaps we would have, Mr Sproule, if you’d allowed the accused to get a word in edgeways.” Madam Breakspear sighed. “This case is a tangled web indeed.” Her words seemed to be addressed to the Wizengamot at large. “As the expert testimony of Mr Chaudhry and Mr Croaker showed, the fact that the Portal was damaged by a temporal incursion is indisputable. It is also most unlikely that such damage could be accidental, and Mr Lupin was the only person present when the incursion occurred. Mr Sproule, you are correct. Intention is crucial.”
She adjusted her robes as her gaze swept across the court. “But since Mr Lupin has refused to explain himself, beyond a denial that his intention was to alter history, what can we say? The testimony of Mr Croaker and Miss Zeller has made it clear that in the view of the Time Division staff, our foremost experts on matters of time travel, history can only be made into what we remember and any changes made by time travellers can only result in the outcome that is known. Mr Lupin himself has expressed his faith in this opinion.”
She glanced down at Teddy, who was watching her silently from his position seated in the courtroom’s centre. “Which makes any claims that he was trying to alter it seem futile since he himself has said it cannot be done.” She sighed again deeply. “But can we say the research done over the last twenty years by the Time Division into matters of Time-Turning is absolute and indisputable? Not with certainty since their very motto, a claim that they do not interfere with history, disputes it. Can we be certain that the Unspeakable testimony we have heard is not intended to protect one of their own? Or indeed, can we say they are not trying to protect the Portal on which their work depends, since they must know its destruction is inevitable if it is found that dangerous changes to time can be made with it? No, not indisputably. And even if this is indeed all down to Mr Lupin himself…” She sighed. “Can we say for sure that Mr Lupin does not know of some loophole to change time discovered in the course of his work? We cannot. Can we say what Mr Lupin might have intended if that was the case? Not without his testimony. He could have believed himself putting something right, acting to make sure that history played out as it is remembered, as Miss Zeller speculated when she took the stand, but that being the case, why would Mr Lupin not just say so? We cannot question him under Veritaserum since his status as a metamorphmagus would enable him to close his throat to the potion without our knowledge, and thus we could not be sure his honesty under the influence could be trusted. And since he will not tell us his motives and his defence will offer none-” her pointed glance took in Hermione and Padma as well as Teddy “-we are left with nothing but Mr Sproule’s fervent accusations to ponder upon. Perhaps, Mr Lupin, you and your defence team would do well to consider that fact. Your silence on this matter does you no favours and only adds to the impression that your motives, whatever they were, were not ones of which the Ministry would approve.” She raised her chin. “I’m calling for a break, to let the dust settle a little and allow both legal teams to consider their positions. We will reconvene in half an hour’s time and resume with the witness testimony of Mr Dennis Creevey. Court adjourned.”
Remus could feel his heart pounding against his ribs as he stared blankly down at the plum-coloured figures dispersing, at Sproule’s cold smile and Hermione and Padma’s worried expressions, as they gathered their things and hurried after the two Security Wizards escorting Teddy back to the holding cell. Madam Breakspear’s words were echoing through his mind “ Hermione had told him that Matilda Breakspear was firm but fair, always spoke her mind,, and was frank and straightforward in her opinions and her statement, to judge by the nods and mutters of her fellow Wizengamot members, had reflected their opinions precisely. And that being the case, Teddy was in a lot of trouble.
Unless he told the truth and admitted what he’d done. Which of course, he was never going to do.
Remus sighed deeply. Whatever happened now, this trial was not going to end well. That Teddy would be punished for his actions was inevitable now. But the severity of that punishment hung tentatively in the balance, depending entirely on what the Wizengamot took his motives to be. And while he maintained his silence…
Teddy would not be persuaded to admit the truth “ his conversations with Harry following his meetings with his godson had convinced him of that. Perhaps Teddy could have admitted he’d tried to save his parents and failed, as Hermione had originally suggested in their debates at Andromeda’s house, but where would that leave them when the truth came out, as it inevitably would have to? They had discussed and dismissed the options for hiding themselves away, and while Remus knew that Tonks possessed the ability to remain incognito for the rest of her life, he would never be so fortunate. A lifetime of Polyjuice or constant transfiguration was too complicated. His lycanthropy made remaining inconspicuous even more unlikely. And any involvement in Teddy’s life, in the life of his friends, would be almost impossible.
The future that Teddy had risked so much to give him was simply never going to happen. Not here. Not in the real world.
Which left Remus only one reasonable choice.
Come forward. Reveal the truth. Let them do with him what they chose. But then at least they’d know that Teddy’s motives and silence were not concealing anything sinister. A young man who’d never known his father had acted on impulse to save him. The punishment for that would surely not be so severe. And he would still have Dora, for there was no reason to mention that he had pulled both his parents from the past. She at least would have the future she deserved.
She would probably beat the hell out of him when he found out. But he’d find a way to keep her from exposing herself as well. He’d find a way to make her understand that his sacrifice was necessary for the sake of their son, but that she could go on and stay at Teddy’s side…
Flashes of a fierce expression on a heart-shaped face crowned by limp brown hair as hands grasped his robes and shook like fury thrust their way into his mind. A noble prat, she’d called him afterwards, a self-flagellating idiot with a martyr complex. Assuming she would understand was, he suspected, a tad optimistic.
He needed her out of the way. He needed to make sure that she didn’t get involved, that she could be kept out of things until it was too late to turn back. And for that, he would need help.
His first choice was Andromeda, for who better than Dora’s mother to keep her safe and out of harm’s way? She loved Dora, loved Teddy too, and would understand that his sacrifice was necessary to keep them safe. She liked him, he knew, and had come a long way since her initial distrust at the time of the wedding “ indeed, once the dramatic events of her meeting with her daughter had calmed, she had surprised him with a hug and told him how glad she was to have both of them back in her life. Yes, she would be glad to help.
Except… Once more, Remus found his mind flicking back into the past, picturing his wife’s anger at her mother’s less than welcoming attitude to her new son-in-law. Dora loved her mother dearly, but her attitude towards him and his safety was fervent to the point of scariness sometimes, and if she knew that her mum had been involved in concealing his intentions from her, she would probably never forgive her.
No. No, he couldn’t let that happen. Dora would need her mum too much. Even though she had now taken the Black family anti-lactating potion to end her body’s insistence that there had to be a baby around there somewhere, she was still fairly fragile at heart.
Victoire was too much of a stranger. Hermione would probably still say no, in spite of Madam Breakspear’s words. Ron wouldn’t want to take sides. Ginny would hit him, call him a pillock, and then tell Tonks for good measure.
And Harry…
He didn’t know about Harry. His son’s godfather had already protested slightly at the way in which he and Teddy were pulling him in two directions, trying to persuade him to protect one at the expense of the other. Thus far, Remus knew, Teddy had been the nominal victor in this tug-of-war of commitment, mostly on the grounds of convenience.
But one glance was enough to see how worried Harry was about his godson after Madam Breakspear’s speech. And nobody understood the nature of necessary sacrifice better than Harry Potter.
Harry then. It was his only chance. He wanted desperately to save his son, but he had to be certain he would not be sacrificing his wife as well in order to do it.
At least one member of their little family was going to get out of this unscathed. Remus was determined it would be his Dora.
Their party was on the move now, Dora-as-Ginny squeezing his hand one last time before she moved to join her mother and Victoire as they left the courtroom. Harry smiled as he pulled himself to his feet and tapped a small glass vial tucked into his robes.
“Come on, mate,” he said softly. “You look like you need a drink.”
One glance at his arms told Remus that Ron’s freckles were indeed starting to fade. Hurriedly pulling up the hood of his cloak, he rose to his feet and quickly followed Harry out of the room. They skirted past Molly, Arthur and Bill, who had cornered Andromeda, Victoire and Dora-in-disguise for a report on how the trial was going, and hastily stepped into the lift. As Level Nine dropped out of sight below, Harry issued a sharp command and shook his wand, halting the lift abruptly between floors.
“Best place for a private drink,” he told Remus with a smile, as he waved his wand to cast soundproofing spells around the little golden box in which they were now concealed. “And no one will think any the wiser of it for a few minutes at least“ these lifts break down all the time since old Reg Cattermole from Magical Maintenance retired. No one else seems to know how to keep them running smoothly. Here.” He handed over the sludge-like burnt orange-coloured vial of liquid. “Essence of Ron. Hair not toenails, I promise. I wouldn’t force my worst enemy to drink Ron Weasley’s toenail clippings.”
Remus took the vial and stared down at it. He couldn’t drink it. He daren’t. If he did, it would be another hour before he could reasonably reveal himself, and he couldn’t risk incriminating Ron in the process. Who knew when the next recess would be called, when he’d next have a chance to step into the court as himself?
“In a minute,” he said quietly. “There’s something I need to discuss with you first.”
“Drink, then talk.” Harry’s tome was firm. “If by some miracle, this lift does get reported and fixed in the near future, we can’t have you popping up into the Atrium looking like yourself. You taught at Hogwarts for a year, Remus. Too many people who work in this building would know you by sight and then we’d be in trouble…”
“But that’s the point, isn’t it?” Remus could feel an almost desperate wave of anxiety rising in his chest. “Teddy’s already in trouble. You heard what Madam Breakspear said. Unless we can prove that he wasn’t trying to alter history somehow…”
Harry’s expression was abruptly grim. “No.”
“Harry…”
“Remus, we’ve been through this.” Harry cut his old teacher off with a wave of his hand. “If you go forward…”
“Then it will show that Teddy had no intention of changing anything; he simply altered the present by bringing us here instead.” It was so obvious, and Remus couldn’t understand why everyone had been so determined to fight him on this matter. “We can explain the precautions he took to ensure everything in history was as it should be, how careful he was, how he considered all the factors before he acted. We can prove he had no malicious intent. He’ll get a slap on the wrist for damaging the Portal, and probably a month or two in Azkaban for causing Penny’s accident, but they can’t blame him for trying to destroy the wizarding world - which is where this looks like going!”
“And what about you?” Harry’s riposte was equally fervent. “Remus, we haven’t a clue how the Wizengamot will react to this. They may consider your presence here a risk to the stability of the past. You heard Rajesh Chaudhry in the stand - the Portal’s still broken, the field’s still ripped, and as long as that hole remains, they might still be able to find a way to send you back to die if they chose to. They could decide the best thing for everyone is to shove you right back into the path of that Killing Curse! We can’t take the risk!”
“And so we risk Teddy’s future instead? No, I can’t do that.” Remus turned away, but the limited space of the lift did not give him room to pace as his body apparently wished to. “Do you think I want to live this life, Harry, if this is how it’s going to be? Do you think I want to spend the rest of my life hiding and pretending to be someone else while my son languishes in prison? That’s not a price I’m willing to pay.” He swallowed hard before turning to face his old friend’s son once more. “I’d rather die in that battle, die where I was supposed to, than sacrifice my son’s freedom in the name of half a life.”
“And what about Tonks?” Harry thrust her name forward like a winning snap card. “Are you willing to get her killed as well? I know she’d probably be willing to do it, but do you really want her to? Are you prepared to sacrifice your wife?”
“No.” Remus answered the question, calm, cool and clear. “And that’s why I wanted to speak to you. I need you to keep her out of this.”
“What?” There was an air of grim and weary resignation to Harry’s reply.
“Keep her out of it,” Remus replied, meeting Harry’s eyes and locking his gaze. “Take her to one side, lock her in your office or at Grimmauld Place, but do something to keep her out of that courtroom when I show myself. Make sure she stays out of sight and stop her from doing anything foolish like trying to join me.”
Harry raised an eyebrow and snorted incredulously. “So it’s foolish for her but not for you?”
Why is he making this so ruddy difficult? “It’s different for her. She can have a life here, wear a different face without effort, be another person without the risk of being dragged down and identified with a badly transfigured, unemployable husband who has to find a new place to transform every full moon! She can have a future.”
“And you can’t?”
“Not reasonably, no.”
Harry was slowly shaking his head. “Are you ever going to get over this urge to martyr yourself, Remus?” he declared abruptly, eyes cool and features stern. “As long as I’ve know you, you’ve been hurling yourself on the pyre in the name of protecting others who don’t need to be protected. You jumped out of Hogwarts rather than be pushed without knowing a push was coming, because you thought you were endangering the students “ it was your choice, you could have beaten that curse if you’d had the nerve. You were a brilliant teacher, Remus, and maybe you’d like to think on how much better some of those kids might have been at protecting themselves if you’d stayed. You tried to abandon Tonks twice because you reckoned it was for her own good “ which it wasn’t, since you made her miserable, ruined her ability to morph, and all but told me you were going to leave her to raise Teddy all on her own. And now you want to chuck your life away so that the nasty man stops shouting at your son?”
Remus fought down a surge of discomfort as Harry’s words struck uncomfortably home. “I’m trying to give him a future.”
“He’s got one.” Harry sighed deeply, brushing his hair back off his forehead. “Nobody can prove a damned thing either way. His sentence may be bumped up rather more than it would have been, but they can’t convict him on the basis of Sproule’s guesswork. But if you go forward, they’ll know he’s done something wrong. And no, it won’t be as bad as they thought, but it’s still proof Remus! You’re proof! If you go forward now, it’ll only make things worse and I’m not going to let you do that!”
For a moment they only stared at each other, two men bound by history and separated by avid conviction that they were in the right. Remus found himself flashing back to that time in the dingy kitchen at Grimmauld Place, the time when Harry had shouted down his arguments and made him see sense. And that time, he’d been right.
But not this time. Remus was sure of it.
But one look into Harry’s determined emerald eyes told Remus that the saviour of the wizarding world was not going to back down.
And neither was he. But he could do nothing while deadlocked in verbal warfare in a lift.
Time for a tactical retreat.
He forced himself to sigh deeply. “I suppose that’s a point.”
The relief that flashed in Harry’s eyes made Remus feel ashamed of his deception, but he couldn’t back out of this now.
“Exactly,” the Auror said, rather more calmly. “Remus, please. Just hold your fire. If it looks like things are going to go as badly as they can get, it might be worth reconsidering. But don’t jump before you’re pushed this time, okay? Teddy would never forgive me. And Tonks would have my guts.”
Remus fought down a surge of guilt. But no, he’d make it clear that Harry had done all he could to prevent this. Teddy and Tonks would understand that much, at least.
“Okay,” he conceded. “No jumping.”
“Good.” Harry smiled. He glanced at his watch. “Court’ll be back in session soon. I’ll get this bucket of bolts headed back down. And for Merlin’s sake, drink that Polyjuice!”
In the shadow of his hooded cloak, Remus was still fingering the vial and trying to work out exactly how he could surreptitiously dispose of it and get Tonks to stay out of the courtroom without help, when the lift dropped back into corridor that fortuitously, was deserted but for Tonks-as-Ginny talking quietly with Victoire and Andromeda. Dora met his eyes with her own dark gaze and wanly smiled.
Inspiration struck.
“Harry,” he breathed softly. “Could you do me a favour before we go back?”
Harry’s expression was one of understandable suspicion. “Like what?”
“Tonks.” Remus leaned in close, making sure that Harry could see the concern on his face. “I think this business is upsetting her more than she’s letting on. Her morph is slipping. Look, see? She’s already reverted to her own eyes and her hair doesn’t look as red as it did.”
It was true. Although Remus was sure that nobody but someone close to Ginny would have ever noticed, and that his wife would probably push the morph back to full strength the moment she was in mixed company, it was too good an opportunity to miss.
Harry’s frown was enough to show he too had noted the discrepancies. “Uh oh,” he muttered. “It’s passable but if Kingsley noticed…”
“Exactly.” Remus fought back a flood of guilt at the deceit. “I’d take her aside myself, but I don’t know Ginny’s looks anything like as well as you do. Maybe you could take her up to your office and show her some photographs so she can correct the mistakes…”
There was instant suspicion in Harry’s expression. “And wouldn’t that be convenient for you? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you haven’t drunk your Polyjuice yet.”
“I’m worried about my wife.” That was very much the truth. “Harry, please.”
“Promise me.” There was an intense, probing look in Harry’s eyes. “Promise me that if I take her upstairs, you’re not going to walk into that court and do something stupid.”
Remus nodded quietly, almost serenely. “I promise,” he replied simply.
After all, he added mentally, how can it be stupid if it’s the right thing to do?
Harry was a wonderful Auror and a good man. But he was absolutely dreadful at choosing the right oath.
And as Harry approached Tonks to broach the subject, leaving Victoire and Andromeda to drift in the direction of the court, opportunity number two came Remus’ way. As Harry turned his back, Remus hurriedly emptied the Polyjuice Potion into a conveniently placed pot plant. Ignoring the way its leaves curled and steamed, wilting and blackening at the contact, he drew his wand and with a tap, had filled the vial with identically coloured but entirely harmless sludge.
Harry and Tonks approached him. After checking both ways for any sign of company, Tonks leaned forward and, disconcertingly for both Harry and Remus, pressed her approximation of Ginny’s lips to his.
“I’m nipping upstairs with Harry,” she told him quietly. “I want to check my morph. Be good while I’m gone, okay?”
Remus forced himself to smile, trying not to think about the upset and the fury that would crease her features when she discovered what he had done. “Angelic,” he replied.
She laughed softly. “Drink your potion, Remus.”
He obeyed, feigning disgust as the vaguely barley sugar-flavoured replacement sludge trickled down his throat. Turning his back, he forced himself to grimace as though in pain and hold his stomach in mock nausea.
“Let’s leave him to change,” Harry’s voice drifted out from the lift. “Sit tight, Remus. It’ll be okay.”
He did not dare look up to watch as they lifted out of sight, trying not to consider what they might say or do if he was even allowed to see them again.
Harry would keep Dora safe. He would be furious with Remus for going against him, but he’d make sure that his wife wasn’t thrown into the pit as well.
But he had to do this. For Teddy, he had to do it.
Beside the lift, another door was opening. Remus caught a glimpse of plum robes and heard voices muttering.
The Wizengamot were coming back into session.
Pulling his hood more firmly over his face, Remus hurried down the corridor, flashed his visitor pass to the frankly inattentive Security Wizard, and dropped into his seat in the gallery.
The scene before him seemed to drift into a strange kind of unreality. He could see Victoire and Andromeda talking quietly away to his right, as he watched the figures in plum robes swarm back in to take their seats, watched Sproule fiddle with his quill as he dropped twitchily back into his place, saw Kingsley and Madam Breakspear discussing something discreetly as they took their position at front and centre of the crowd. He saw Hermione and Padma, their faces full of anxiety as they re-entered the room, and then he saw Teddy, firmly escorted by two burly Security Wizards, as he dropped back into his seat.
He looked resigned. And he looked terrified.
I can’t let them do this to him. No more. I haven’t been a father to him for the last twenty years and I’ll be damned if I don’t start now.
“Order!” It was Madam Breakspear who called the court to silence on this occasion, although Kingsley was standing at her side when she rose. “Mr Creevey is next to the stand.” She gestured to the short wizard standing by the door, and Remus recognised him as one of the two who had come with Zenobia Moon to take Teddy away. “Does either legal team have anything to add before he is called?”
He could see both Padma and Sproule rising to defer, but nothing seemed to matter now, nothing but the frightened face of his son and his desperate desire to make things right. Harry had been right. Sometimes people didn’t need protecting. And he couldn’t let Teddy protect him any longer.
He felt himself rise to his feet, felt himself go forwards and move downwards, step by step by step, still lost in the concealment of his cloak. He heard Andromeda’s hiss of horror, Victoire’s disbelieving gasp, saw Hermione’s head turn and her eyes widen with shock. He saw Teddy’s gaze fix upon him and the blood drain from his cheeks.
He ignored them all.
“I have something to submit to the court.”
The words echoed profoundly in the silence that followed Sproule and Padma’s deferrals. The heads of the Wizengamot turned as one.
Madam Breakspear gave him a long, wary look. He could see Kingsley beside her, frowning, squinting as though to see deep into the shadows of his hood, trying to place the voice he surely must have recognised as familiar.
“This is highly improper.” Madam Breakspear was the first to recover herself. “This is a closed proceeding and if you have something to submit, it should go through the designated legal representatives…”
“I’ll deal with it!” Hermione’s voice was unnaturally high-pitched as she rocketed to her feet. “Madam Breakspear, if we could just extend the recess…”
He couldn’t let this get bogged down. It was now or never.
“I know why Teddy Lupin is refusing to explain his actions.”
“Madam Breakspear, please, I just need a minute to speak to this gentleman. I have dealt with him before…”
Oh Hermione, you shouldn’t have said that…
“Don’t.” The soft, almost inaudible mutter came from Teddy. He was staring at his father’s cloaked form as though the entire world was about to tumble down around him. “Please.”
For a moment, he faced his son, willing him to understand. “I’m sorry, Teddy,” he replied, his voice low but carrying powerfully. “But I have to. I can’t let this go on.”
“No!” Teddy was on his feet now, his expression twisted with desperation as he tried to rush forwards, but the Security Wizards caught his arms and shoved him with unnecessary roughness back into his chair, blocking his second attempt to rise with their wands. Remus felt his son’s eyes burning into him, pleading as he heard his voice call out once more.
“No! No, please, don’t do this! You don’t know what’ll happen! Please!”
“Let what go on?” Madam Breakspear’s voice carried more than a hint of irritation. “What is going on here?”
Hermione’s head was whipping back and forth between Remus and her boss, as though unable to decide whether to keep appealing, or just to rush and shut her former teacher up. Remus kept his eyes fixed upon Kingsley, choosing to stick with the one person he knew would recognise and understand what he was about to see.
“Teddy has been trying to protect someone,” he said softly, his hands drifting to the folds of his hood. He allowed himself one final breath, one final moment before stepping into the abyss, one final chance to back down. But his son’s desperate pleas, far from deflecting him, only drove him forwards.
Gently, quietly, he pushed the hood back, meeting Kingsley’s gaze and watching as the Minister for Magic’s jaw dropped in complete and utter astonishment, his expression almost stupefied, his eyes stunned.
Remus smiled softly. “And as I’m sure you’ve worked out, Kingsley,” he finished calmly. “The person he was protecting was me.”
A Little More Time by Pallas
Chapter Notes: With the site back in business, I'll resume posting where I left off. Enjoy! :)