20: Preservation
“Remus.”
The name slipped over Kingsley Shacklebolt’s lips as though fleeing from the disbelieving confusion of his mind. Remus straightened unconsciously, holding his old friend’s gaze deliberately as he allowed the ex-Auror to drink in what he was seeing, to comprehend the truth that his eyes beheld. He caught a glimpse of Hermione dropping back into her seat with a vaguely resigned thud, and the eyes of his former students Padma Pat…Goldstein and Terry Boot locked in astonishment upon him. And he saw Teddy groan as he covered his face with his hands and slumped silent and unresisting back in his seat.
There was recognition in some quarters of the Wizengamot too, though it was anything but universal as low muttering broke out amongst the plum-clothed officials. The short man by the witness stand was regarding him with an unreadable gaze, and Aloysius Sproule pounced upon his notes and riffled through them frantically until he laid hands upon what looked like a photograph, his head whipping rapidly back and forth between Remus and his find. Matilda Breakspear, who, he now recalled, had been Head Girl in his second year at Hogwarts under her maiden name of Braithwaite, clearly did not understand “ her eyes were darting back and forth between himself and the Minster for Magic with obvious confusion written within.
“Minister?” she said slowly, her face filled with consternation. “Who…?”
“I saw your body.” Kingsley’s voice, unnaturally, almost painfully level, cut away the rest of her sentence. “I helped carry your coffin at the funeral. I watched them close it up and bury you.”
Remus held his gaze, keeping his voice soft. “That wasn’t me.”
There was turmoil behind Kingsley’s eyes now, conflicted hope battering against almost violent scepticism. “It’s been twenty years. Yet you haven’t aged a day.”
Remus risked a slight smile, trying to ignore the sudden pounding of his heartbeat in his ears. “I can explain that, if you’ll let me. Though I suspect it’s fairly obvious why, if you think about the reason for this trial.”
Kingsley’s eyes darted briefly towards Teddy, who was hunched, almost shaking, in his chair, still flanked by the stern-looking Security Wizards. The glance seemed to jar him back into order; the Minister’s eyes hardened abruptly as he straightened his robes and squared his shoulders.
“So,” he said firmly, his voice strong and clear. “You stand before this court claiming to be Remus John Lupin, father of Teddy Lupin and officially recorded as a victim of Antonin Dolohov at the Battle of Hogwarts twenty years ago. Am I correct?”
Gasps rose from those members of the Wizengamot not previously aware of his identity “ Matilda Breakspear’s eyes widened to saucers as they followed Kingsley’s example and darted sharply in Teddy’s direction. It seemed that someone in the room, at least, had realised the implications of his appearance before them.
Remus simply nodded. “You are.”
Kingsley’s gaze was both solemn and desperate, with a hint of apology running around the edges. “You understand I need proof of this.”
Remus allowed himself a more obvious smile. “Then ask.”
Kingsley’s jaw hardened. “Just before the fight in the Department of Mysteries, you took me to one side. Why?”
Remus cast his mind back to that awful day, as they had waited in the Grimmauld Place kitchen for word from Severus as to Harry’s fate. With a jolt, he realised what a well-chosen question it was “ until a few moments before, as far as Kingsley was concerned, he had been the only remaining living member of that ill-fated rescue mission.
“I pointed out that we both knew that whatever we said, there was no way on this earth that Sirius would agree to stay behind if Harry turned out to be in danger,” he said softly, recalling now what his concerns had been and the words he had spoken in a brief, whispered conference with Kingsley near the pantry. “That would risk his freedom and, considering that you were supposed to be hunting for him, it might also wreck your cover with the Order and your career if you were seen fighting together. I was just proposing that we attempt to disguise Sirius in case of the worst, when Severus called and there was no time to do anything but Apparate to the Ministry.”
As he had seen with Ginny, with Harry and Ron, Hermione and Andromeda, hope began to outweigh the doubt in Kingsley’s eyes. He must know now that there was no way short of Legilimency that anyone could…
“Drop your eyes.” Had Kingsley read his mind? His gaze had certainly been intense enough but whether his friend was using magic or it was simply a case of great minds thinking alike, Remus offered no query and obeyed the command, fixing his eyes upon the stone step beneath his feet.
“Now,” Kingsley’s voice echoed throughout the room. “Aside from good luck, what were the last words we exchanged before the Battle of Hogwarts began?”
Remus swallowed hard. Oh Gods… “I said that if my wife showed up, make sure to send her home again at once. And you…” He forced himself to hesitate, to gulp in air, to tense his shoulders. She’s dead to me, she’s dead, they mustn’t know she isn’t dead, I have to seem upset… “You said knowing her, the odds were good that she would, but you promised me if you saw her, you’d kick her backside until she went back to the baby.”
He glanced up just as Kingsley closed his eyes in apparent pain. Oh Kingsley, I’m sorry, but you can’t know that truth… He glanced over at Teddy, who was watching him now with a sudden intensity, and at Hermione whose stare was both angry and understanding.
Don’t give her away, he willed them silently and silently, if reluctantly, he felt them both agree. Whatever became of him, Dora had to be safe. She had to be.
When he glanced back, Kingsley was staring at him. His chest was heaving, and his eyes…
He wants it to be true. He’s starting to believe it…
“One more, for certain.” His friend’s voice was shaking slightly now. “What colour was Tonks’ hair the day I first introduced you to her?”
The memory flashed across Remus’ mind, that day in Grimmauld Place when Kingsley had ushered over a nervous-looking young woman who’d introduced herself to her convict cousin by offering a bottle of hair tonic, because his wanted posters made him look like he’d need it, and who’d barely noticed her cousin’s quiet friend until she’d stumbled and he’d caught her, and they’d begun to chat and laugh and make silly remarks as Sirius attempted to use the potion to make a quiff…
And her hair…
“Green. Bright green.” Eye-aching green was probably closer, although a little less flattering. “But she changed it to violet later in the evening.” He fought to slip an edge of sorrow into his fond smile. “She called it her party trick.”
And one look at Kingsley’s face was enough.
He believes it. He believes.
“Remus,” Kingsley repeated again, a hint of an incredulous, stunned, but accepting smile starting to blossom in the corners of his mouth. “Sweet Merlin, it’s you. It really is you.”
Remus couldn’t help himself. “I told you so,” he said with a half grin.
Kingsley laughed out loud and started forwards towards him as the mutterings of the Wizengamot, silenced by the questioning, jumped sharply to new heights. Matilda Breakspear, still on her feet, was regarding him now with a mixture of incredulity and comprehension as she extended an almost apologetic hand to halt her boss’s advance towards his apparently resurrected friend.
“Minister,” she exclaimed sharply. “I’m sorry to intrude but… Can you now confirm for certain that this is indeed Remus Lupin?”
At her words, Kingsley seemed to collect himself, to remember that this was indeed a trial over which he was presiding, regardless of old comrades who’d risen from the grave and announced themselves. Deliberately, he forced the smile down from his face and turned to the Head of Magical Law Enforcement.
“I can confirm it,” he replied, although Remus could see his formality creaking at the edges slightly. “The conversations cited occurred either out of earshot of any other parties or in the presence of those who are now deceased…” He hesitated with sudden uncertainty. “Mind you, in light of what’s just happened, I assume they still are…”
“They are.” Remus was quick to intervene to halt that train of thought. Keep her hidden, keep her safe… “It was only me that Teddy saved…”
“Saved?” Sproule’s harsh voice rang out, setting Remus’ nerves instantly on edge. “Madam Breakspear, this is proof! Indisputable, solid proof that Teddy Lupin has altered history to suit his own ends…”
“He didn’t change a thing.” His voice was more snappish than he would have liked, but there was no way that Remus was going to allow Sproule to build up another vindictive head of steam. “That’s the fact that matters here, isn’t it?”
Sproule gave an incredulous snort. “You stand here alive when the Minister for Magic has stated that you should be in your grave. How can you possibly claim that nothing has been changed?”
He couldn’t help it. He simply couldn’t. Remus felt the faux-friendly smile spread over his face as he gazed down at the obnoxious little man who’d been haranguing his son ever since the trial began, and silently thanked the stars that the charming Aloysius wasn’t bright enough to grasp the temporal theories that were integral to Teddy’s case.
“Mr Sproule,” he said softly. “Thank you. You’ve just made my point for me.”
Confusion flashed across Sproule’s features. In spite of Hermione’s obvious anger at his impulsive self-exposure, he caught sight of her grinning with gratitude for assisting in the putting down of her opposite number.
“Mr Sproule has gone straight to the heart of the matter.” Remus took the opportunity to address his comments to the room at large. “If Teddy had been able to change history, no one would have batted an eyelid when I entered the room because those who knew me would never remember me dying. Or at the very least, they would know me to have been missing, presumed dead after the battle, a mystery, never to be seen again.” Dimly, in the back of Remus’ mind, something fired up in protest, tumbling through the confusing morass of temporal theory that he and Hermione had spent the last few days poring over and debating and prodding at him to suggest that that couldn’t be right, because then Teddy would have come from a different history and might never have gone back through the Portal at all, but then that couldn’t be right either because that would mean another version of history and the only one that could actually happen was the one that already had and…
Firmly, Remus ordered his brain to shut up, before it embarrassed himself and made his smugness over Sproule’s inability to understand look terribly hypocritical. But at the same time, it left him with a nagging, uncomfortable afterthought that whispered that if he was having such trouble after several days of researching the subject, how on earth were the Wizengamot supposed to take on enough information from a few courtroom citations in order to gain the understanding needed for an informed judgement? But then again, all that really mattered here was making sure they understood that Teddy had not done “ could not have done - anything to corrupt their past. Clearing his throat, he gathered his thoughts as best he could and continued.
“But Teddy didn’t change anything “ in fact, he went to great lengths to ensure that he preserved history to play out exactly as it had, because he knew he could not succeed any other way. He did not try to save me from death in the past because he knew that since that hadn’t happened, it wouldn’t be possible; instead he pulled me physically through the time Portal twenty years into my future. That’s why I haven’t aged, Kingsley “ for me that battle was less than a fortnight ago.” He glanced at his friend. “Most of the bruises are gone now, but I’ve got scars from a few cuts if you’re desperate for physical proof.”
Kingsley’s lip twisted awkwardly. “That isn’t necessary, Remus, but thank you for the offer.” He sighed. “But what I don’t understand is that if Teddy pulled you physically out of the past, where did the body I saw buried come from? It was you, Remus, right down to the battle damage and the scars from your bite. Everything about it said it was you. Dolohov boasted about it later in battle “ Dean Thomas told me he said he’d used the Killing Curse on you and a boy called Colin Creevey to try to upset him and throw him off balance as they fought. The Time Division where your son works later confirmed it. Remus, no one could have survived that…”
An odd muffled whimpering sound came from somewhere out in the court, but Remus could not spare the necessary moment to find its source. “As I said, by then that wasn’t me. Teddy pulled me out from the battlements, before the curse hit.” He risked a smile. “His timing was impeccable.”
Kingsley frowned. “Then who did get hit?”
“A fake. Because my death and burial were a matter of record, Teddy conjured a fake corpse via a Replication Charm to take my place, just as Cornelius Fudge did when he faked his death, I believe.” Fudge’s trial, Remus knew, had been the previous matter before the Wizengamot and would still be fresh in the minds of its members, he was sure. Their murmurs suggested he was right. “Everything is as it should be because Teddy knew better than to try to change the past. He preserved the past exactly as he knew it would be and simply changed the present instead. And I’m not sure that there’s any law against that.” He straightened his back, pulling his robes down as he turned to face the plum-robed masses before him, appealing as directly as he dared to what he prayed was their understanding and compassion. “Teddy shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble for me,” he stated, his voice quiet but firm. “He acted on impulse to save the father he never knew from being killed in front of him, and though I am grateful for his efforts, I have already told him that I did not want to see him sacrifice his future on my behalf.” For an instant, Remus could have sworn he caught a glimpse of Kingsley rolling his eyes, but he pointedly ignored this apparent unspoken swipe at what Harry had so kindly designated his martyr complex and carried on regardless. “And that is why I come here now to ask this of you. Do as you like with me. Kill me, imprison me, return me to the past to die as history says I did, whatever you prefer. But do not punish my son for a moment of rash impulsiveness when faced with watching his father die.” He raised his chin. “Let whatever you would do with him fall upon me instead.”
And into the silence that followed his pronouncement broke a single voice.
“Remus Lupin, you bloody great prat!”
He felt his blood freeze. Oh no. Oh please no…
He hadn’t heard the doors to the courtroom open, hadn’t heard the squeak of hinges or the clunk of the handle turning. But one glance over his shoulder was enough to see the furious red-headed figure silhouetted within the doorframe, shoulders heaving, fists clenched, eyes, dark eyes fixed upon him as though death itself was far too good for him. Footsteps pounded in her wake; in the corridor behind her, Remus caught a glimpse of Harry, rounding the corner as he galloped down the steps towards his `wife’, in an apparent last ditch effort to preserve some measure of the secrecy he’d deemed so necessary earlier. Behind him, Remus caught a glimpse of wide eyes and red heads “ Arthur, Molly and Bill, it seemed, had followed his dash and heard the roar of a long-dead name along with everyone else on the floor.
But in that moment, all Remus cared about was shutting Dora up before she gave herself away. Andromeda, after a frantic glance in his direction, was half on her feet and Harry was almost upon her now, but was it too little, too late?
Knowing Dora, probably…
Make her sit down, please Harry, please, make her shut up and sit down before she gives herself away…
“Ginny!” The bellow of the name from Harry’s lips was very pointed. “Ginny, love, calm down and sit down, there’s nothing we can do now about…”
But the Ginny-Tonks had already thrown off his restraining hand and marched straight past her mother, pounding down the stairs, and with each footstep, Remus could see with pure horror that her features were melting, her hair shortening and flaring into pinkness, her height and body shape shifting until abruptly she slammed to a halt before him, all trace of her disguise tossed aside.
Too little, too late indeed.
Remus had never in his entire life felt so much like screaming out loud with frustration. Why? Why the bloody hell couldn’t she have just stayed safe and out of sight, why couldn’t she have shown a little common sense about the matter? But in spite of his clenched fists and eyes flung despairing towards the ceiling, deep within he could hear a part of himself whispering the truth of the thing, telling him that it could really only ever have been this way. The only subject that they had ever truly and sincerely fought about, the only subject that drove them both to do irrational and foolish things, was the matter of the safety of each other.
Damn.
He heard Kingsley’s shocked gasp of “Tonks too?” from somewhere behind him, heard Teddy groan and a thud that he suspected was Hermione’s head coming to rest against her table. Crowded in the doorway and ignoring the efforts of the Security Wizards to force them out again, Arthur, Molly and Bill were gaping at the couple in wonder. And Harry, oh dear, Harry… his expression filled with anger and disappointment, jaw clenched and eyes cold as he stood near the doorway and stared down at his former teacher. There was a hint of apology on his face for his failure to restrain Tonks but other than that, he looked the antithesis of thrilled at this turn of events.
And finally, finally, Remus looked down at his wife.
He made no attempt to stop her hand as it swung in hard and impacted against his cheek with a bruising thud, slamming his head sideways with the force of the blow. He knew that, from her perspective, he’d earned that much.
“You prat.” Her voice was low, cold and furious, rich with epic danger. “You bloody stupid, self-sacrificing, idiotic, noble prat!” Her fists clenched in front of her, as though she yearned to seize his robes and fling him violently down the stairs. “I don’t believe this! After everything we’ve been through, everything we agreed and we sorted, you still feel the need to chuck yourself to the lions the moment my back’s turned! You probably had your little speech all rehearsed, didn’t you? Or why bother with a whole new one when you can just use the same one you came up with before?” Clasping her hands together, she shifted her face abruptly into a grotesquely fatuous approximation of his own. “Oh Dora, darling!” she proclaimed, her voice suddenly lowered and filled with fake hoarseness as she ruthlessly parodied his intonations. “Don’t you see it’s for the best? You’re young, you’ve got your life ahead of you! You can go on without me and have a wonderful future stroking fluffy bunnies and skipping in meadows and marrying nice safe blokes with boring, jolly jobs and lots of money, so you can pop out happy, smiley babies who won’t get ostracised at all because of their terrible, terrible werewolf daddy! I’m only trying to give you the life you deserve! You can just forget all about me, I’ll just be burning agonisingly in a pit of flames over there, but I don’t actually mind, and it doesn’t really matter to you because you can just abandon the idea that you ever loved me and move on with a click of your fingers, now can’t you? After all, you must know you’ll be so much better off without me!”
The last word was flung in his direction like a fiery cannon ball as her morph dropped away with a suddenness that was almost violent.
“Something like that, was it?” she drawled with poisonous sweetness.
Remus fought back the surge of guilt and embarrassment that flowed through him, forcing himself to remember that, in spite of her rather painfully close to the bone brand of mockery, he really had been acting in her best interests, both then and now. Why, oh why, could she never understand that?
His frustration bubbled over abruptly, concern and anguish at seeing her throw herself unnecessarily into the crucible beside him, yet again, thrusting itself sharply to the fore. “So I’m supposed to apologise for caring, am I?” he snapped back with rather more force than either he or Tonks had probably expected. “I’m supposed to go down on my knees and grovel for forgiveness for just wanting you to be safe?”
“I don’t mind you wanting me safe!” Tonks’ face thrust up to within inches of his. “What I mind is you buggering off and trying to protect me without even asking me first! And why the hell do you refuse to understand that I want you safe too?”
“My safety doesn’t matter as much as yours!”
“It does to me!”
“It shouldn’t!” Remus shot the words back like a whiplash. “I had to do something, Dora, for Teddy I had to do it! But I wanted to make sure that this time, he at least had one parent left!”
The moment the words had passed his lips, Remus knew he’d stepped over a line. The flash of shock and hurt that surged in his wife’s eyes burned him; ignited, he knew, by her own private regret that she had chosen to fight for the future with her husband rather than stay behind safe with her baby son. He stepped back at once, wiping one hand over his mouth as he closed his eyes against the pain he had caused her, and against the guilt that had finally dampened down the anger in his heart. Somewhere behind him, he heard a throat being cleared, but pushed the distraction away in favour of Dora.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
Her voice, when it came, was strangely tired. “No. You shouldn’t have. But I shouldn’t be yelling like this either.” As he slowly opened his eyes once more, he caught a glimpse of her apologetic shrug. “I mean, this is you, isn’t it? Remus Lupin, undisputed High King of the Noble Prats.” He risked a smile at that and was relieved to receive a wan one in return. Her eyes drifted up to meet his. “You wouldn’t be the man I fell in love with if you weren’t forever trying to throw yourself to your doom in the name of those you love. Even if it is bloody infuriating.” She punctuated her statement with a couple of half-hearted wallops against his arm.
Remus felt himself smile with resignation. “And I suppose you wouldn’t be the woman I fell in love with if you didn’t march in here and beat the stuffing out of me for trying it,” he replied quietly. “Even if that’s bloody infuriating for me too.”
Dora smiled more sincerely as she reached out and caught hold of his hand. “Sorry about the face,” she ventured.
Remus shrugged. “I’ve had worse. From you, as it happens. I may have to start investing in body armour…”
The quirk of Tonks’ lips implied a cheeky retort was in the offing but before the words could be spoken, the second clearing of that throat behind Remus served as an abrupt reminder that their argument had not exactly been a private one.
“Well,” Kingsley’s deep voice echoed throughout the courtroom. “As one of the few people in existence ever to witness the epic scariness of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks arguing over his noble tendencies and her refusal to be protected, I can confirm that if I had any lingering doubts before, they’re definitely gone now. That’s them all right.”
With a mock glare, Dora glanced around her husband’s shoulder. “You’re asking for a kick in the shins, Shacklebolt. And don’t call me Nymphadora.”
Kingsley’s chuckle reverberated loudly. “And that’s the clincher.”
Remus turned slowly, catching Tonks’ hand as he looked out over the faces of the Wizengamot once more. Some remained astounded, others awed, but upon some faces was a kind of grim weariness was settling now, one that spoke to Remus in ominous tones. Kingsley was smiling broadly, but Sproule looked infuriated, and Matilda Breakspear’s mouth was set in a cool, thin line that Remus couldn’t help but feel did not bode well.
Tonks’ wrath or not, he had to do something.
“I would like to state that my offer still stands,” he declared, his voice soft but carrying powerfully “ he saw Dora’s head whip round towards him, felt her grasp tighten warningly, but he ignored her. “Though I would like to add the coda that my wife also be allowed to go free and unpunished…”
“And I’d like to ask that you ignore the idiot next to me.” Tonks’ clear voice cut his sentence neatly away. “Whatever you decide goes for both of us, as long as Teddy is left alone.”
“And I’d like to ask that you ignore them both. ” Teddy’s voice cut sharply into the courtroom as he half rose from his chair “ his guards, distracted by the drama unfolding around them, made no effort to restrain him this time. “Do what you want with me, I’m the criminal here, but let them go free. They’re innocent and they’ve done nothing to deserve any of this! They shouldn’t have died so young, they deserve another chance to live…”
“And not just them!” The echo of this voice, tearful, frantic, almost desperately, painfully hopeful, brought instant silence to the courtroom. The short, mousy-haired man who had been waiting by the witness stand stumbled forwards past Sproule and over towards Teddy’s chair in the centre of the flat courtroom floor, his hands grasping at the sleeves of his robes as his eyes fixed upon Teddy’s wide eyed face. “You did it for your parents, you brought them back and they’re here, now, alive, they can have a future…”
Teddy was shaking his head. “Dennis…”
“So do the same for Colin!” The Security Wizards were moving forwards now, although a compassionate wave of Kingsley’s hand made them fall back again from the man lurching onwards with his shallow breaths and twitchy motion. “He was sixteen, just sixteen, when that monster Dolohov stole his life! Surely my big brother deserves another chance as well!”
Colin Creevey. Remus felt his stomach lurch as he remembered the enthusiastic, if not desperately talented boy in his second year classes, small, mousy haired and bright eyed; but the image swam away, brutally superseded by a limp young figure flung to the ground like a rag doll by the stab of green light from Antonin Dolohov’s wand. The Death Eater had been laughing.
Remus had never known a rage like the one that had filled him in that moment. A young life wasted, tossed aside as though it didn’t matter. His brother was right, Colin did deserve a second chance, more than he did if the truth be told.
But it couldn’t be. If the Portal was so used again, where would it stop? How could the line ever be drawn, how could the choices be made of who was worthy and who was not? Even their presence was so dangerous, for it opened up possibilities, and where would it all end if they were allowed to stay, how many others would come and demand the same favour? How many others would deserve it as much if not more?
Why was nothing in life ever fair?
Teddy had come to his feet, holding out his hands towards his friend almost pleadingly. “Dennis, you know I can’t; his death is a matter of record…”
“Why not?” The despair in Dennis’ voice was excruciating. “Their death was a matter of record too until you did this! Why should you be allowed this miracle and no one else? What makes them so much more worthy of a second chance than everyone else who died that day?”
Teddy’s face was deathly pale. “Dennis, I’m sorry. It’s not that… I saw a way and I just wanted them back so much…”
“And I want my brother!” The words were a roar. “And if you won’t help me…” His eyes darted up the stairs, furtive, dangerous. “The Portal’s still open to the past! I’ll do it myself!”
“Dennis, no! Stop him, he’ll be killed!” Teddy rushed forwards as the little man darted past with a speed born of desperation, but ridiculously it was the younger man that the Security Wizards stepped in to restrain. Remus half-started towards Dennis as he hurled himself up the steps, screaming his brother’s name, but in his impulsive despair, the Unspeakable made no effort to look where he was going. Consequently, he did not see the Head of the Auror Office stepping grimly in front of him until Harry’s soft Sleeping Spell struck him and dropped him into instant slumber by the door.
The courtroom went deathly still.
“Vigers. Asplin.” It was Matilda Breakspear’s suddenly slightly shaky voice that finally broke the silence, as she gestured to the two Security Wizards standing by Teddy’s chair. “Please take Mr Creevey to one of the court holding rooms until he recovers. We will decide how to help him later.”
“But…” The taller of the two guards, a lanky blond, gestured to Teddy. “The prisoner…”
“Will be quite safe with us, Mr Vigers. Thank you.”
Reluctantly, the two guards obeyed, moving up to where Harry and Andromeda were bent over Dennis’ suddenly peaceful form “ Remus noted absently that beyond them the doors had been forced closed at some point during the recent chaos, although Arthur, Molly and Bill were still there, apparently on the grounds that it was pointless trying to hide anything from them now, and had moved over to join a very pale Victoire inside.
“As for the rest of this business…” Matilda Breakspear took a long, heavy breath. “Now that we have the full facts of the matter, there is a great deal we have to debate. And I feel that debate might go somewhat more cleanly without further interruption.” She turned to Hermione. “Madam Weasley, as you seem to be acquainted with more of the details of this matter than you have told the court-” even from his higher position, Remus could see Hermione’s potent blush at this statement ““I would appreciate it if you would remain a few moments to clarify some of them. And since it would hardly be fair to keep the defence counsel present without her fellow or indeed the prosecution, Madam Goldstein and Mr Sproule may remain also.” Her lip curled slightly at the expression of oily smugness on Sproule’s face. “As for the rest of you “ there are waiting rooms in the chambers through there.” She gestured to the little door through which Teddy had earlier been escorted, and through which the unconscious Dennis was now being carried. “I would very much appreciate it if Mr Lupin “ well, both Mr Lupins, and their family and friends would make use of them.” She raised her head. “The Wizengamot has very serious decisions to make, regarding Teddy Lupin’s actions, his parents’ presence and the very significant issue of others wishing to follow suit raised so poignantly by Mr Creevey. And I think they will go more smoothly without all this excitement.” Closing her eyes for a brief moment, she turned to Kingsley, whose face was suddenly solemn and filled with resigned comprehension. “And Minister…”
“It’s all right.” Kingsley raised his hands. “It’s all right, Matilda. Given my obvious bias in favour of a lenient fate for Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, I willingly withdraw myself from your deliberations. I’ll wait in the chambers with the others.”
“Thank you.” Matilda looked extremely relieved. “This is a serious matter,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “With frightening ramifications for the entire wizarding world. We must preserve the past, the present and future with what we decide today.” She bit her lip, and her eyes drifted to where Remus still waited, his wife’s hand clasped in his. “At all costs.”
Remus nodded. He understood.
And as he followed the short stream of people down to the chambers, smiling wanly at Molly Weasley’s joyful face, nodding a quiet apology to Harry, Remus couldn’t help but feel a shiver of fear as the door closed behind him with a heavy clang, leaving fifty wizards and witches in plum coloured robes to decide his family’s fate in agonising privacy.
And all he could do now was wait.