ambivalence

Remus Lupin was a werewolf.

She sighed and put down the papers. This could complicate things. On the one hand this could work in her favour as this was something she could hold over his head if he didn’t want to help (though she doubted she would do that, even if he refused. Unwilling help could be worse than no help at all), however, the same could be said for Dumbledore, as there was no doubt in her mind that he knew. He most likely was sent to try to convince the werewolf packs to join ‘the light’. A ridiculous concept made by a ridiculous man. Lupin must have felt indebted to the man for allowing him into Hogwarts, (there was no other way a werewolf would work for him). He would probably do anything for the man, from fear of his secret being revealed, or loyalty for allowing him into the school, or perhaps both.

She looked over the remainder of his records and found his current address. A muggle neighbourhood by the looks of it, a derelict place at the edge of London. Sending a letter simply had too much risk, she decided. She would have to go herself, speak with him face to face.

She called for kreacher again, just as she had the previous day. She wondered, as she draped her thick cloak around herself, would Lupin hate her by proxy? Would he despise her for her actions towards Sirius? Sirius had probably filled their heads with all her horrible deeds, or so she heard (granted she likely did all that and more).

She eventually came to the conclusion, as she approached Lupin’s door in a downtrodden, rundown looking block of flats, that if he was ‘a good friend’ (the very idea) then he would help her purely because of his loyalties to her son, or something like that.

Of course there wasn’t always only one reason for things. What was that muggle saying? (Sirius had used so many of them that some were unfortunately bound to stick) ‘Enemy of my enemy is my friend’. She doubted Lupin held any fondness for the ministry. There were simply too many bills and movements against werewolves, vampires and the like. Was he even registered? It wasn’t in the files she received. Dumbledore probably covered it up, to keep the man on a tight leash. Effective blackmail. It almost had her impressed. She personally had her varying opinions on the matters of sentient creatures but there were more pressing matters at hand.

She rapped on the door, three times, loudly and waited. It was about a week after the last full moon so that was no issue, and the dark lord had been defeated so she doubted Dumbledore had sent him off on some mission.

A shuffle from behind the door caught her attention. So he was in. The door started unlocking with a few clicks and it was pulled open.

“Look, I know what you said I just need a little more ti- "

Lupin was already speaking as he opened the door. She must have not been his only visitor recently. Whatever he was going to say stopped dead as soon as he saw her. He must have recognised her, likely from Sirius’s descriptions, for he didn’t ask who she was. Instead he just stood there, staring at her, his mouth hanging open slightly. It wasn’t a particularly dignified look.

“Well,” She asked expectantly, “Are you not going to invite me in?” Manners in this one were sorely lacking, no wonder he was friends with her son.

He seemed to compose himself, slightly, and allowed her in. If his flat looked dismal on the outside, it was absolutely appalling on the inside.

The plaster on the ceiling was cracked and broken, with large parts falling off at the slightest provocation (like them walking below) and the wallpaper was peeling and faded, with mould and water damage clearly visible in the corners. He directed her towards his equally abysmal living room, which contained a couch that looked like it had taken several lengthy baths in the Themes and been left out to collect whatever diseases suited it, and a cheep, low, coffee table with more stains then wood. A small, ancient looking, bookshelf sat on the far side of the room, books piled on every flat surface. It looked ready to snap at any moment.

She made her way across the room, the floorboards creaking louder and louder with every step. Once she made it to the middle of the room she stopped and turned to look at it’s owner. She didn’t sit, one reason being that she had no interest in sitting on the pathetic excuse for a couch and the other being that she didn’t know how this meeting would go, and if mention of his affliction wouldn’t keep him from attacking, it would be easier to fight while standing.

Contrary to what might be thought, she was quite a good dueller. One had to be to survive in the house of Black.

The aforementioned werewolf stood awkwardly by the table, his woollen jumper hanging from his bony frame, and his hand clenched around his wand, though he pointed down, not looking for a fight it seemed.

“What are you doing here?” It was incredulous, although she couldn’t blame him. It was a shock for everyone involved that she had come here. She might as well get down to business, because no matter how her tolerance had improved in the recent years of solitude she had endured, she most certainly wasn’t going to spend more time in this nasty house than necessary.

“I might as well get down to business then,” she voiced her earlier thoughts, “I am here because you are my sons closest living, non Deatheater, friend and you will help me free him.”

He gaped at her and his mouth was back to hanging open. It was so uncouth. After a moment he seemed to compartmentalise his shock and finally started to speak.

“Why would I help the man who betrayed my friends, our friend, to your lord?” His voice was low, brimming with a fury she hadn’t noticed before. If she could redirect it it would be incredibly useful.

“I may agree with his goals, but his methods were sloppy and he went mad by the end of it all.” She turned her nose up slightly. It was a fools move to believe themselves infallible, and he had believed just that, and anyone who hid behind a pseudonym for their goals wasn’t worth much. “And besides, do you truly believe my son to be capable of betraying his friends?” She raised a single eyebrow and fixed the man with a stare.

Lupin looked like his world had been shattered. If it was this easy then he must have not had much conviction on the subject of her son’s guilt. At least this stage might prove fairly simple. His previously stiff arm that hand held onto his wand with a vice like grip had gone limp, and his eyes widened as if he were about to cry.

She sighed. Clearly there would be no more progress today.

“Tomorrow,” she would give him time to calm down enough for intelligent conversation. “Go to Claremont Square and wait, my house-elf will direct you from there.” She didn’t give him a specific time. She woke up early so she wouldn’t miss him, no matter when (if) he came.

The wards of Grimmauld place - contrary to most wards and others belief - had parts that extended beyond the property, to prepare them for the eventuality of an attack. If he came near the house she would know. His status as an unknown wizard and a werewolf would make him impossible to miss. She would have to make some small changes to the wards if he was to aid her (would he even show?), she didn’t know how they would react to a werewolf and this wasn’t the time to test them. She made a face, considering another possibility, she should probably remove anything that actively tried to kill werewolves as well.

With those final, cryptic words she swept out of the dilapidated little flat and apparated away.

Remus stood in the middle of his living room, frozen. He snapped out of it after a few moments and collapsed onto the couch, his head in his hands. It had been a rollercoaster of a week, even if most people didn’t even know what that was. First you-know-who was defeated by baby Harry, though only after killing both Lilly and James! Then he found out that Sirius had been a traitor, the right hand man of their enemy, and had betrayed their location to you-know-who and killed Peter! Then Dumbledore had explained to him that Harry had to go stay with Lilly’s sister because of some blood wards. He had almost wept at that but Dumbledore knew what he was doing. All he wanted to do now was curl up on his bed, eat as much ice-cream as he physically could and cry. Everyone was gone. They were all dead or as good as and Sirius had betrayed them - the entire order. Betrayed him. Or at least that’s what he had thought. All his experience could never, in any lifetime, prepare him for what, or who, just happened.

Walburga Black, the woman who Sirius had hated with a fiery passion and who hated him right back, had come and waltzed into his flat to proclaim the very same man to be innocent (and her intentions to free him?), then left as quickly as she came leaving him an invite to what he assumed was Sirius’s childhood home? Sirius had mixed feelings about the place so he didn’t know what to think. He was still trying to process it all. He had been so sure, Dumbledore had been so sure, he couldn’t have made a mistake, could he?

He looked over to the small, barely functioning clock on the shelf. How had it been 2 hours since Sirius’s mother came?

He slumped down, his head falling back and groaned. This was all such a mess. He put his faith in Dumbledore for a reason, the man was one of (if not the) most powerful wizard of the age. He had allowed him into Hogwarts when he probably shouldn’t have, he had friends and people every where. He was the driving force for the light, and if he said that Sirius was guilty then he was. But on the other hand if Walburga Black of all people came to him to preach his innocence then there had to be more to it. His own guilty mind (he owed Dumbledore so much, how could he even think about this?) desperately wanted to believe her, he couldn’t bare the thought of Sirius being guilty, of him betraying their closest friends.

He though back to what she said. It was more of an invitation then an order, no matter how she said it. An open invitation to help prove Sirius innocent, and he so desperately wanted to take it. But what would happen if he did? He would be betraying Dumbledore, but he would be saving Sirius (if he was innocent). There had to be more to the story. The headmaster could be wrong once in a while, couldn’t he?

He was ripped from his thoughts when a knock came from the door. He doubted it was Sirius’s mother back again, she didn’t seem like the type of person to return once she had made her exit although he couldn’t blame her if it was on account of his flat. Even he could tell it was scraped from the bottom of the barrel. He was surprised they hadn’t torn down the building yet.

He shuffled forwards, towards the door, and opened it just enough to see who was outside. No need to take chances after all, he had forgotten before but only because he thought that it was-

“Hello, my boy,” Dumbledore said, a smile on his face, his eyes twinkling like they always did. “Do you mind if I come in? I have something I would like to discuss with you.”

After a moment, he sighed, (accepted he would have no peace today more like) and pulled open the door and allowed Dumbledore inside. The man in question wasted no time in stepping through and moving to sit on the (previously stated) decaying couch. Remus followed him through an sat on the opposite side of the couch. He didn’t offer tea.

“Headmaster, can you please tell me why you’re here? I told you I just need some time to-” He was cut off mid sentence when the headmaster held up a hand.

“Remus, my boy, I understand that you need a little time after all that has happened, but I do hope you will return to us soon. This meeting, however, isn’t about that. The first thing I need to talk about is young Harry.”

“Yes, when can I see him?” He didn’t even think, just blurted it out. Any other feelings where put to the side when Harry was mentioned. Harry was the only good thing in his life.

“About that, my boy,” All of a sudden Dumbledore’s face turned sombre, and his eyes stopped twinkling, “You cannot see him. The boy’s aunt has requested absolutely no contact with the wizarding world. I am so sorry.”

Remus’s mind went blank, then all of a sudden, he exploded. “Then let me take care of him! If she wants to see him we can organise-” He was cut off once more, this time by the headmasters curt tone.

“No my boy, that cannot happen.”

“Why then? He is my only family left!” A wave of fury burst through him. His wolf snarled, if there was anything at all that they agreed on it was this.

“For his safety. When Lilly sacrificed herself,” a jolt of pain went through him at the name, “it left behind powerful blood wards, that can only accessed through blood family. Lilly’s sacrifice,” another jolt, although this one less forceful, “keeps Harry safe, so he must stay with his blood relatives.”

Remus’s whole body went limp. His momentary anger from earlier dissipated. How? Just how? He was that child’s family dammit. That child was the only thing he had left! As this particular thought passed through his head, he paused but Dumbledore carried on, unaware of his thoughts.

“I know that this is hard to hear Remus, my boy, but Harry will grow up happy and loved in the tender care of his relatives. And would it really be healthy for him to grow up in such an unstable environment?”

Remus flinched then nodded, not really listening to anything else the headmaster might’ve had to say, still reeling from the horrifying knowledge that he wouldn’t be able to see his nephew grow up. He was right, of course. A werewolf like him would never be able to give Harry the life he deserved. If by some miracle he was able to get custody legally (which would take a god appearing and smiting most of the ministry) he would never be able to make enough to give him a true childhood. They would be living paycheck to paycheck, in dingy old flats (probably as bad as the one he was sitting in, and wasn't that a nightmarish thought) and the public. If (when) they found out, there would be riots. Not to mention all the clout because of being 'the-boy-who-lived'. No. As much as it hurt, almost physically. Dumbledore was right. It still didn't hurt any less.

“The other matter of business I have come to discuss is that it appears Walburga Black has visited Sirius, with a lawyer.” Remus stayed very still while the headmaster sighed, and shook his head. He prayed the headmaster wouldn't notice the sudden beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. Thankfully, he seemed unaware. “We cannot allow the right hand of the dark lord to go free, if he did who knows the kind of carnage that will reign. He might even try to bring him back.”

Remus flinched at the thought. 

“I told you headmaster, just give me a little time.” The response was automatic, as of on autopilot. Remus was still processing, the appearance of Walburga Black and her insistence of Sirius’s innocence to the visit of the headmaster and all the news he had brought with him.

“All right, my boy. But I hope you will come back to us.” Dumbledore sighed, as if he was indulging a small child then stood and walked to the door. Before he left he turned slightly and looked at him, as if a thought had occurred to him. “Do you know anything that could be of help, Remus? Anything would be greatly appreciated.”

“What do you mean? Of course not, headmaster, but if I do hear something you’ll be the first to know.” Remus said, giving the man a weak smile and watching him as he left, his robes swishing about as he started walking away from the door.

“Of course, my boy. I didn’t mean to imply. I thank you.” He called out over his shoulder. As the headmaster apparated away, a single thought was racing through his head. Why did I lie?