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A Promise to Return


The “quarters” Ed deposited Remus into was a small closet-sized room in the cellar, narrow, with a heavy wood door that had a small barred window at waist level. There was a window to the outside, also barred, at the very top of the little room, narrow and higher than even Remus could reach, as tall as he was, through which he could see only a tiny patch of the top of the evergreen trees that surrounded the cottage. Ed locked the wood door and murmured, “Nighty-night, poppet,” and shuffled back up the stairs and out of the cellar, leaving Remus alone in the dark.

Remus sank to the floor, his back against the door, head just beside the little grate, his eyes on the sliver of the outside world he could see, and he rested his arms across his knees, chin on his forearms. There was very little to be done, without his wand he couldn’t break out of the little cell they’d stuck him in. There was no way he could squeeze through that window, even if he could find some way to reach it… the walls and floor were cement… there really was nothing to do but wait.

So he closed his eyes and, to pass the time, he recited every defensive spell he could remember from four years of Defense Against the Dark Arts classes at Hogwarts - mumbling the incantations and moving his wrist with each spell. “Expelliarmus… Stupefy… Confundo… Protego… Protego Maxima…

Outside, far off at the edge of the wood where the Half-Breed Army had collected, two men and a woman stood in the grass, their voices low.

“We need to find out if he is for sure here, first of all, and then we can proceed with making plans. You don’t need to go rushing into this until we know for certain that Remus Lupin is out there,” the woman said.

“I - I agree, it is most very, uh, important to know, for certain, that he - that he is there,” agreed one of the men. “We risk everything by going in. Everything. And so we need to know that it is worth the, uh - uh, the risk.”

The third voice was rushed, annoyed, “Well what do you propose we do then? Dawdle about to give the bloody fiend a chance to murder him? Eat him as look at him, that’s the Greyback way. If the boy hasn’t already suffered horrible torture, it’s only because Greyback’s exhausted from the Full Moon. Mark my word, though, twenty-four hours of aconite tea and he’ll be on his game and ready to play with his prey.”

“We - we confirm Remus is - uh - here,” answered the first man.

“But how, without going in?”

There was a pause… a click and a small creak of something being opened - a box or a case, perhaps - and a low whistle. A moment later, “She’s quite good at finding things, if you trust her to it.”

“Perhaps she could find the key,” suggested the woman’s voice.

“See, that’s the, uh, the spirit - that right there,” said the first man’s voice.

The second man said, “And if they catch her at it?”

The first man replied, “We won’t talk about that. Think… think positive, Ned.”

“It’s rather hard to around this part of the woods…” the second voice said, “Dementors… memories…” he scoffed, “Damn near impossible to stay positive here.”

“All the more reason that we should send her first,” replied the first.

The debate went on a few more minutes, each presenting their arguments whom they should send and when, until finally there was an agreement reached: “she” would be sent now, and if she did not return quickly enough, a new decision would be made based on the current situation at that time.

Through the woods “she” went, moving sporadically from tree to tree, weaving in and out of the path through the trees… past the goblins and giants and centaurs and werewolves… to the little stone cottage in the clearing, miles away from where the three figures stood, waiting for the response…

Remus was still sitting in his little room, murmuring spells that didn’t particularly make any sense, his words slurring a bit together with tiredness. “...protego... the logical thing… defensive theory… the determination theorem…”

Suddenly… there was a funny sound, high above his head in the window, and Remus Lupin looked up. Between the bars had poked a funny little face - a furry, cat-sized something or other with a great long nose and long, sharp claws, peering down at Remus. He stared at it, bewildered, and a bit afraid that it might be some sort of hungry wild animal that could potentially do harm to him… But then again, what difference would it make if it did? It would only save him the agony of the additional handful of hours waiting for Fenrir Greyback to get bored with himself…

The funny little creature let out a strange noise suddenly and he sat down on his back haunches and reached into a little pouch in it’s belly - clearly some sort of marsupial creature. Remus stood up slowly, pulling himself to his feet and straining on his tiptoes to try and see over the ledge of the window what it was the funny looking aardvark-like thing was doing as it dug about in its pouch. “Hullo?” he called to it, “Hullo there?”

Suddenly the little creature was looking over the edge of the window at him, it’s snout twitching as it snuffled and sniffed… and then it dropped over the edge of the window a shiny gold object before turning and disappearing.

Remus bent and picked up the gold object from the floor. It was a bottle cap - a bottle cap from butterbeer, Madam Rosmerta’s butterbeer, to be exact, from the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade. He turned the cap over in his hand a couple times, inspecting it, but it was nothing more than an ordinary bottle cap. He stared up at the window from whence the strange little thing had come, and wondered what it meant… and why it filled him with just the tiniest inkling of hope that the little creature had left him a token… as though it was giving him a promise to return.




HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY, OFFICIALLY CLOSED FOR TERM
The Minister for Magic officially announced the Hogwarts Board of Governors has decided to shut down the school until a permanent headmaster can be appointed by the Minister for Magic, that is agreed upon by the Board. Students will be sent home via the Hogwarts Express and the Floo Network to ensure absolute safety in the evacuation of the grounds of Hogwarts. Extra security measures have been put into effect by the wizarding law enforcement officers, including Aurors positioned at both Hogsmeade Station and King’s Cross to ensure that the students arrive to their destinations without attack.
The heightened security measures have been the result of the hard work of Harold Minchum, whose tolerance for threat from He Who Must Not Be Named has proved to be very low. “While we do not take the threats from You Know Who lightly, we also are not going to stop living our lives. Closing the school seems an irrational reaction - a fearful reaction - one that, if given the chance, I would reverse myself… Students should be taught to stand strong and hold their ground, not tuck their tails and run.”
As of now, Hogwarts School is tentatively scheduled to reopen in time for the 1 September start of term date, but the Board of Governors will be working tirelessly to assist Madam Minister in selecting a suitable headmaster.





Sirius was picking at breakfast - under Dumbledore’s watchful gaze in the pub - reading the news of Hogwarts closing when an owl arrived. Dumbledore untied the note from the bird’s leg and he read it over quickly as Sirius peered over the Prophet at him. Dumbledore nodded, then stood up and tossed a couple galleons onto the table. “Mr. Black, let us depart to our room. There’s news.”

Sirius felt his muscles tense and he followed Dumbledore to the room upstairs, where Dumbledore waved his wand to lock the door and began to collect the few personal belongings strewn about the room. “Is it news about Remus?” Sirius questioned nervously, “Is he alright? What’s happened? Where is he?”

“It is exactly as I believed,” Dumbledore replied, “Fenrir Greyback has taken him to the forest where we suspected he might have been assisting Voldemort in building an army. Confirmed by my colleagues, they’ve witnessed the army and have begun working on a plan to rescue Remus this very day, but they need my help and so I must bring you home, and get to the forest myself as quickly as possible.”

“Wait -- bring me home?” Sirius’s eyes widened, “You can’t seriously mean you’re bringing me back to that place! After everything that happened!” Panic rose up in Sirius’s voice, “Are you mad? I won’t go back there! They’ll kill me as soon as we enter the threshold! Please don’t make me go back there!”

“Mr. Black,” Dumbledore said firmly, “Grimmauld Place is no more your home than it is mine.” He held out his arm, shouldering his rucksack. “If you please, take my arm, we must go.”

“Where?”

Dumbledore patiently held out his elbow.

Sirius sighed and placed his hand upon it… and with a CRACK!, they disapparated from the room in the Hog’s Head and a moment later had landed in the cul-de-sac where the Potters lived. Dumbledore hastened to take the steps into the bounds of the Fidelus Charm, though today, in the wake of all that had happened, no Death Eater dared stand sentinel.

Sirius’s heart leaped for joy at sight of the house and, letting go of Dumbledore’s arm and forgetting all his manners, he ran across the lawn to the front door, flinging it opened without knocking and skidding to a halt just inside. “JAMES?” he shouted.

There was a clattering of footsteps in the hall and James’s spectacled face appeared ‘round the doorway to the kitchen. “SIRIUS!!!” he bellowed and he ran down the hall. The two boys slammed into one another mid-way down as Dumbledore stepped through the flung-wide front door and Charlus and Dora emerged from the kitchen behind their son as the boys embraced in the center of it all.

Dora smiled teary-eyed at the boys, then said, “I’ll put on more bacon…” and hurried back to the kitchen.

“None for me, Dora dear,” called Dumbledore, “I’m only seeing to it that Sirius is safely here, and now I must be off to the north to assist in rescuing Mr. Lupin.” He looked at Sirius as he and James broke apart from their hug, and Dumbledore fixed Sirius with a very solemn expression on his face, “I will send word as soon as I have anything new to say. And you remember the things we spoke of last night. Do not doubt yourself, Sirius Black, for you have a pure heart and only light can come from that.” He patted Sirius’s shoulder.

“Thank you, sir,” Sirius said.

Dumbledore nodded to James and Charlus in farewell, and he hurried back out the door, pulling it closed behind him, disapparating the moment he’d crossed the threshold of the Fidelus Charm.

James turned to Sirius, “He knows where Rey is?”

Sirius nodded, “He’s with Greyback and Voldemort’s whole bloody army. That’s all he could tell me.”

“So it’s true, Greyback’s been assembling the army for You Know Who?” Charlus said, his voice awed and hushed.

“Apparently so,” Sirius answered. He looked at James, “Dumbledore’s got some sort of spies or something up there that’s going to help him in mounting a rescue for Rey.”

“Blimey,” whispered James.

“Yeah, blimey,” answered Sirius. “I wish I could’ve gone and helped him.”

Charlus shook his head, “It’s no place for a boy your age.”

Sirius laughed, “People keep saying things like that - about my age and not being able to fight, but bloody hell, we’ve fought already, haven’t we? James and Remus and Peter and I… we’ve already fought. We fight everyday.”

Dora came back into the hall carrying a pan of sizzling bacon. “Dumbledore’s left already?” she asked, “Drat, I was going to make him something to go on with.” She looked disappointed.

Eager to accept a change in subject, not wanting to debate with Sirius Black about whether or not they were old enough to fight the Dark Lord, Charlus answered his wife, “All the more for the rest of us!” and ducked back into the kitchen.

Sirius looked at James.

“Dumbledore said he was taking me home,” Sirius said, “Then he took me here. Gave me a right scare, at first I thought he meant Grimmauld Place.”

James shook his head, “You git,” he answered. “Your collar has this address on it, Snuffles,” and he winked and waved for Sirius to follow him, “C’mon. That ruddy bacon smells like heaven… You know, they ought to make a bacon perfume for girls. I’d snog any girl that smelled of bacon.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Maryrose next time I see her,” Sirius said.