Remus
“Pardon my French, Professor, but no fucking way.”
Professor McGonagall’s lips stretched into a thin line. “I thought you might say that, Lupin.”
A sharp pain shot into Remus’ wrist and he realized he was clenching his fists so tightly he was drawing blood. Little half moon bites pressed deep into his palms. He slowly uncurled his fingers, instead gripping the armrests of the chair. It felt a bit like being back in McGonagall’s office at school, though he hadn’t stepped foot in the castle since he graduated.
He was in Emmeline Vance’s back room study, and McGonagall had just asked—
He couldn’t even think it.
Remus tried to steady his breath, but when he spoke, his voice came out curt and angry. “Professor, why would you ask me if you knew I’d say no?”
“Because Dumbledore suggested it.” McGonagall held up a finger to silence Remus as he opened his mouth to argue. “And sometimes I trust Dumbledore’s judgement. Sometimes. I think this is a rather good idea.”
“Professor. Look me in the eyes. Look me in the wolf eyes and tell me this is a good idea.”
McGonagall gave Remus a sharp look. “I must be going blind, Lupin, because I believe I'm looking at a man. A man who used to look after the entirety of Gryffindor tower his seventh year—"
"That was James."
"Please just think about it. We can’t send you out on regular missions because of your… scheduling issues. This is possibly the most helpful and important task in the entire Order.”
“Helpful?” Remus repeated, almost desperately.
McGonagall waited patiently, fingers knit together, as Remus looked around the room in disbelief.
Finally, he collected himself enough to meet her calm gaze. “Even if I said yes, I couldn’t do it by myself.”
McGonagall’s face twitched as she tried to keep back a smile. “Oh, you wouldn’t be alone. You’d be working with Sirius Black.”