ambivalence

Remus came to with a groan and a throbbing headache. He tried to sit up but his entire body ached, causing him to collapse back onto the bed. It wasn’t an injured kind of ache, he noted, his bleary eyes blinking to get some kind of awareness, but an acute exhaustion kind of ache. Similar to the one after transformations.

After several more failed attempts to sit up due to aching body and dizziness he resigned himself to lying flat and twisting his head around to bet his bearings.

He was in what looked like a guest bedroom. It had a double bed with off white sheets. Next to the bed was a small, empty table and beside that was a window, dark curtains covering it.

Did Wal- sorry, no, she would probably haunt his dreams if he called her anything but ‘Lady Black’, even in his thoughts. Did Lady Black give him a room? What even happened? Last he remembered they were doing that blood ritual and they he collapsed. Did she lie? Maybe she did something to him?

Remus tried sitting up again and was pleasantly surprised when he found he could. He propped himself up on his elbows and was about to try and get out of bed when he heard a pop.

The house elf was standing less then a meter away holding what looked like two vials of some sort potion.

“Mistress says that guest Lupin is quite stupid. Mistress bids Kreacher give him magic recovery potion and then guest Lupin is to come down.” The house-elf snarled. How he managed to make simple instructions sound like a threat he didn’t know.

With that the old elf thrust the bottles into his hands and disappeared as quickly as he arrived.

He looked at the spot that the elf stood in, looked down at the bottles in his hands then looked back up again. He was so confused. His head was still groggy and he could barley think without his entire head screaming. He shook his head trying to clear it but only succeeded in aggravating his progressively getting worse headache.

He looked down at the potions and sniffed them both. A side effect of his lycanthropy was that had had an acute sense of smell which was definitely handy when sniffing for poisons, less so when the only places he could live smelled of sewage and piss and was repulsive to even human noses. The first one, after he had uncorked it, had the distinct, well known smell of a pepper-up potion. It had a relaxing lavender smell, but rarely tasted of anything. The second one smelled distinctly clinical, with a citrus under tone. As the elf said in was a magic replenishing potion. Of course she lied about the blood ritual being harmless. How could he have fallen for such an obvious trick. Grief probably.

Despite his reservations he downed both potions in quick succession, first the magic replenishing potion because otherwise he wasn’t sure if he could stand then the pepper-up which dulled the pounding headache drumming in his skull into a simple ache.

Remus staggered out of bed in what was ancient looking pyjamas and was pleased to find his clothes neatly folded and draped over a chair in the corner and when he picked them up, he was amazed to find that they had been washed.

He quickly put them on and poked his head outside his room. Compared to the dark interior of the bedroom the corridor was blinding, he winced, and ducked his head back in.

Deciding that he needed to greet his gracious host he steeled himself and stepped out through the door. Objectively the lights were dim, only small little things glowing on the ceiling, but for him it burned. He continued shuffling forward until he got to an ancient looking staircase. As he stood at the top of the stairs he heard the unmistakable sound of clinking cutlery coming from down below.

Staggering down the stairs, the sound got louder and louder until he came to the same room he was in before. Sirius’s mother was sitting in a large, padded chair a tray with am empty plate sitting on a side table to her right.

“You are awake, sit.” She didn’t look happy, so in the effort of extending his already miserable, possibly-about-to-end life, he sat.

What had even happened? She had claimed the ritual was safe, so had she lied? Did something go wrong? He was just about to voice his plethora of questions when Black started to speak, her shrill voice cutting through any thoughts he might’ve been thinking.

“That was quite stupid.” She raised an eyebrow and sipped a cup of tea he hadn’t realised she had.

“How so?” He replied, his voice icy. Who was she to criticise anything he did. It was her ritual!

“You took part in a ritual that required a decent amount of magic, while being completely exhausted.” She huffed and placed down her cup and saucer on the table where the tray had been. When had the tray disappeared? He must really be out if it. “Though I suppose that useless headmaster of yours,” She said the word headmaster as if it were some terrible curse taking merlin’s name in vain, “really hasn’t been teaching you the necessary information needed is he?” She continued, a particularly murderous look making its way onto her face, one that he had seen before, the one Sirius would make when one of the professors set one to many detentions, the one when there was too much homework, the very same one when someone decided to flirt with him. Sirius would drag him away glaring at everything and everyone. Now he at least knew where he’d gotten it. He wondered, was that glare signature to the Black family or was it only something Sirius and his mother shared?

“If you want to be able to achieve high results in any proper magic you need to have some base level of health. Something you clearly don’t have.” She finished with a disdainful scoff. Curious how she could make anything sound like an insult. Maybe she taught that particular skill to her house-elf.

“Did it work?” He asked hesitantly, “I want, I want to see what you have to say. It’s why I’m here after all.” Wal- Lady Black (he really didn’t want to know if she could read his mind or something else equally dark and creepy) looked at him with a raised eyebrow before he hurriedly added, “Lady Black.”

She sniffed and sat up a little straighter. “Very well then.”

From there she recounted the story, from finding out about Sirius’s wrongfull imprisonment from the daily prophet to getting a lawyer and basically storming askaban to question Sirius and finding out about Peter’s betrayal. Remus couldn’t even begin to believe it, quite literally.

“You’re telling me that you saw your disowned son imprisoned and you, of all people, decided that it was wrong? Excuse me, Lady Black, if I don’t believe that. Why would you care?”

And why would Sirius even talk to her?

Lady Black glowered at him, as if she were trying burn a hole through his soul. She might’ve been succeeding.

“I am not good mother. But I will not let an insult to the House of Black and its heir, my son slide.” She sat back in her seat and watched him, her eyes never blinking.

Remus sat back as well. So she was serious (ha). She really did want to free Sirius. There had to be something more though, right? Or was this really about house pride and possessiveness of Sirius?

He kept thinking back to just before the war truly broke out. How happy they all were. What he and Sirius might’ve been. Was Peter already a traitor then or was this before he turned?

If he was being perfectly honest to himself he didn’t really care at the moment. If Sirius really was innocent and Peter did betray them then he couldn’t let him just stay there and rot while the real culprit ran free. In reality, he’d already decided before he’d even come to this house.

“Alright then.” He took a deep breath. “What can I do to help?”

———

Walburga sat back on the coach she had spend the last couple hours on. She and Lupin had been recording all off Sirius’s ‘heroic deeds’ (what a preposterous concept) and any actions of Pettigrew that in hindsight looked suspicious. After only a few hours it was clear that while there was some evidence that could theoretically be of use (they would have to consult with Burke. How annoying.) there were substantial gaps in what Lupin was telling her.

“In this week here,” she said, pointing at the calendar they had spread out in front of them, heavily annotated with the actions and whereabouts of both the aforementioned men. “where were you. This is a large gap in which a lot could have occurred, messages, rendezvous, all knowledge to incriminate Pettigrew or something to prove it wasn’t Sirius.”

“I was away. Doing a job for Dumbledore.”

That had been his answer for at least 3 other time frames, she had to try very hard not to throttle him or commit some other unspeakable act that would be very time consuming to deal with, and when he was around the order then his attendance was, irregular to say the least. After another such excuse she had begun to wonder if there was something more to his weak excuses. It was likely something to do with his hidden status as a werewolf. Was he still under the delusion that she was unaware? She hadn’t explicitly told the man but she was a Black. They had almost endless money and still had quite some influence. How could he expect her not to know? Was he truly this wilfully blind? Should she ask the man?

Once upon a time she would have pried without care but now, something had changed. Perhaps it was her old age, she wasn’t able or willing to do much of what she used to, she had much to think about and now had the time. Perhaps all that had changed her perspective slightly. Perhaps it was simply guilt. She wasn’t so mad as to not realise she was a less than stellar parent especially to Sirius. Then again, if the man was this pathetic then maybe a shock would be good for him.

“Are you truly unable to tell me or is it that you wish to continue to unsuccessfully conceal your status as a werewolf?” She raised an eyebrow and stared at the man as he went through an amusing series of emotion. Panic, horror and then finally, weariness. He looked at her as if she were about curse him. As if she would have spent the last few hours peacefully (read without cursing him) if she were going to do anything horrible to the man.

“I did look into you before we met. It wasn’t difficult to figure out.” She expertly held back a chuckle as Lupin continued to stare at her as if she’d grown a second and third head.

“You don’t care? I find that a little hard to believe.”

“I have my own opinions on dark creatures,” she replied, diplomatically, “However you are helping me free my son so I am willing to look past such things.”

Lupin looked up for a moment then seemed to accept his predicament.

“I was with werewolf packs. For all of those periods I was infiltrating werewolf pack trying to stop them from joining him.” So she was right. It was disappointing yet unsurprising to see Dumbledore so predictable. “It took a long time to gain their loyalty so I was away a lot. I think the others stopped trusting me ad much.”

Perfect. He wasn’t as deep into that ridiculous order as she’d hoped but perhaps this could still be salvageable.

“Is there any way you can regain the trust of that order of yours?”

Having someone on the inside of what very well may be the enemy’s operation would be a massive advantage. She would be able to know if Dumbledore was the one who put her son in that cursed prison by design or if he merely took advantage of an opportunity. An opportunity to do what she still didn’t know.

“How do you know about the order?” He looked surprised .

“It was an open secret that Dubledore had a group of people fighting the death eaters.” She replied dryly.

Lupin blinked a few times at her before he looked down, wringing his hands, he hesitantly began to speak, switching the topic back to what they had been discussing just moments before.

“He keeps trying to talk to me, I don’t know what he wants though. All he said was that he wants me to return to them.”

“Then this is a perfect opportunity. You confirm if any of the order members are responsible for my son’s imprisonment and you may find others who are willing to assist us in exonerating him. "

“Not that I don’t want to help, I really do, but there is a good chance I’ll get caught, or they wouldn’t trust me because of my re- friendship with Sirius.”

She wondered what Lupin had ment to say. She briefly considered prying but decided against it. He would no doubt slip up eventually. Such was the nature of uneducated, foolish griffindoors. It was still such a shame Sirius was sorted there.

“Then play the grieving friend card. Any discrepancies in your behaviour can be explained by that.”

He nodded. And she allowed herself a small, victorious smile. This would work. She would make this work. And if it didn’t? Well, the ministry needed a reminder of a truly enraged Black didn’t they?