Chapter Four
If the first sign of Gilderoy Lockhart’s incompetence was the Whomping Willow sling, the second sign was the pixie incident.
At the start of October, Remus was casually strolling the corridor, or at least, trying to appear as if he was casually strolling. In fact, he had been trying to head unseen to Snape’s office, break in, and steal from him. He was interrupted when he heard a commotion from Lockhart’s classroom, followed firstly by an exodus of screaming children, and then Gilderoy Lockhart himself.
“Erm…” Remus began. “Is everything ok?”
“What?” Lockhart looked frazzled. “Oh, yes - quite alright. Quite alright. All part of the plan - getting the kids excited, they were rather frightened by the pixies… but it’s good for them to see them, isn’t it? And it’s all under control.” And then he set off at a brisk pace, looking back once over his shoulder before disappearing.
Remus carefully inched the classroom door open, trying to avoid being seen. He could hear voices inside.
“He’s just… trying to give us hands on experience!” Came a girl’s voice.
“Hands on?” A second voice, this one male, retorted. “Hermione, he didn’t have a clue what he was doing.”
Remus took in the scene. Three second years were battling a number of what seemed to be Cornish Pixies that were on the loose. With a jolt, he realised one of them was Harry. Of course it was Harry. Apparently, the boy had inherited his father’s talent for trouble. Now that he was satisfied that no one’s lives were in danger, Remus decided to let the scene play out. He was curious about what they would do.
“Petrificus Totalus!”
Remus was impressed. Hermione was clearly a talented witch for her age. He shrank into the shadows as the three of them finished stuffing the frozen pixies into their cage, and ran off to their next lesson, bickering and laughing. He watched them mournfully, feeling his personal ghosts pressing down on him more than ever. Harry still reminded him so forcefully of James that he felt peculiar looking at him.
But he had mischief to manage. Rowan hadn’t called him ‘bloody brilliant’ just for getting a teaching role. Hogwarts had also been a way for Lupin to access the elusive Wolfsbane potion, which Snape - of all people - was charged with brewing for him, right underneath the nose of the Ministry.
The pixies would actually be useful to him, and he would happily blame Lockhart for them too. He grabbed their cage, waited until no one was about, and then slipped behind a tapestry that led down towards the dungeon.
Once he was on the dingy corridor, he shook the pixie cage up, and set it down on the floor. He stood back and muttered ‘Alohomora’.
Chaos instantly ensued, and kids were running out from the potions class, which obliged Snape to leave too. He made short work of the pixies, and then stormed off, presumably to yell at Lockhart. The remaining students took this as their cue to get out of lessons a few minutes early, and dispersed.
Mayhem had fallen like a wave, and Remus knew he had only moments as it drew back, before new students arrived and filled the dungeons with noise once again. In the brief silence, he darted into the potions room. Sneaking around felt like second nature to him; for once, the ghost of his childhood self sat comfortably within him. There, at the back of his office, he found the book he’d been looking for. He noted down the list of ingredients - the instructions didn’t seem to be written down, which must be for security measures. Still, it was a start. His task complete, he left the way he’d come.
*
Remus thought his lessons were going well. He’d surprised himself by really enjoying the lesson planning, and it seemed to be paying off, despite Snape’s attempts to derail him with snide comments and last minute classroom changes. Most recently, he had decided suddenly that the best time to deliver Remus’s Wolfsbane potion was the same time his lesson began. Very subtle.
Remus thanked Severus, and placed the potion out of sight as nonchalantly as possible, trying to ignore the hatred that flashed in Snape’s eyes. It was difficult, pretending to be a professional teacher who was courteous to all colleagues, when in fact he still felt like an angry child. An angry child who would do a non-verbal spell to trip Snape on his way out of the door? It was childish, but he’d done it before he could think it through. Snape stumbled, and grabbed the pixie-filled cage to steady himself. Several students snickered.
“Careful, Severus.” He said. “We don’t want a repeat of your pixie incident.”
Snape’s eyes flashed with deep loathing. Remus could tell he was suspicious of him, but he held it back. They weren’t boys anymore. War had aged them both, but despite what Dumbledore thought, Remus wouldn’t forget on who’s side Snape had fought. It angered him beyond belief that Severus was allowed here, in Harry’s presence, poisoning the education of so many promising students with his bitterness. Because of him, Harry would never share his mother’s love of potion brewing. Snape swept away without comment.
“Alright” Remus clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Today we will be looking at…” he scanned the list of books Lockhart had selected, and then discarded it. “Shielding spells.”
“Now, in order to defend ourselves, we need an offensive spell. Does anyone know the jelly-legs jinx?”
Nobody raised their hands. Remus supposed that spells went in and out of fashion. He remembered the year James had discovered ‘Levicorupus’. How often had they all awoken that year by being hoisted in the air by their ankle? He wondered if anyone knew it still. Suddenly, he remembered a scene he’d witnessed a couple of days prior, where a spectacled red headed boy had been pelted with flying books and pins, moving of their own accord. It looked like the Oppugno Jinx. From Remus’s vantage point of a classroom window above, he could see Fred and George Weasley in the other corner - Remus had been personally warned about these two by Professor McGonagall. One of them had his wand trained on the first boy, while the other kept look out. By the time Lupin came down to intercede, their wands were away, and they were whistling nonchalantly. It was almost as if they knew he was coming… a certain map sprung to Remus’s mind - but, no. That map had been lost to the sands of time. It must have been a coincidence.
The Oppugno Jinx they'd used was a good one, and Remus decided to teach it. Once they’d all mastered it, to at least some degree, he split them into pairs and had them take it in turns to attack, armed with cushions, and defend with the ‘Protego’ spell.
It was a chaotic lesson, but he thought it had been quite fun, too. He’d been impressed with Harry’s progress. His face of concentration was all Lily, and it made Remus’s heat ache, but not in a sharp, overwhelming way. It felt more like an underlying, gnawing sensation. As they packed up their things at the end, Remus overheard Harry and his friends discussing the lesson. His wolf ears were great for eavesdropping.
“Did you see the way Snape was looking at him?” Hermione whispered. “I wonder what happened there?”
“I don’t know,” Harry said, “but any enemy of Snape is a friend of mine.”
Remus smiled to himself. Some grudges lasted generations.
*
That night, Remus waited on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, in the dark, under the threateningly waxing moon. After about 10 minutes, he heard a loud crack, followed by a soft ‘fuck’. He grinned to himself, it wasn’t often he heard Rowan make a mistake. He waited silently, until the other man’s footsteps got closer
“Lumos” he muttered, illuminating Rowan’s face, only a couple of inches from his own.
“FUCK!” Rowan repeated, and Remus doubled over laughing.
“WHAT. IS. WRONG WITH YOU?” Rowan had his hand on his chest. “I’m here to stop EXTREMELY important information getting into the wrong hands, and this is how you greet me?”
Rowan was a man who rarely lost his cool in any situation. But he did hate jump scares. Remus held up his hands. “In these dark and difficult times, laughter is the only defence.”
“That is not true, and it is not funny. AND as the actual teacher of Defence Against the Dark Arts, I do hope that is NOT what you have been teaching students.”
The reason that they were meeting in the forest after dark was that Rowan was an outed werewolf, and could not be seen in the castle without causing concern. The information Remus had to give him was too precious to entrust to an owl, which could be intercepted. If the Ministry, or indeed anyone at the school, found out what he was doing, they’d all be in a lot of trouble. Remus straightened up slightly, and tried to be more serious.
“I got the ingredients, but there were no instructions to go with it.”
“Hm, security measure?” Rowan replied.
“That would be my guess.”
“Well. It’s more than we had before.”
Remus smiled, and felt a small tug somewhere down in his gut. Rowan was always able to see the good in a situation.
An owl hooted, and spooked them both. Retrospectively, creating a jumpscare in the middle of the Forbidden Forest had not been a good idea.
“Look - I should get back. But thanks for this, Remus, I know it can’t be easy… being back here.”
Remus watched him go, and mulled over his words. Now that he thought about it, returning to Hogwarts hadn’t been hard at all. Snape’s microaggressions, and Lockhart’s incompetencies aside, Remus felt he had settled into his routine at well. That is, up until October 31st, when everything went to hell.