Chapter Text
“Round about the caldron go;
In the poison’d entrails throw.—
Toad, that under cold stone,
Days and nights has thirty-one
Swelter’d venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i’ the charmed pot!
Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire, burn; and caldron, bubble.
Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
Witch’s mummy, maw and gulf
Of the ravin’d salt-sea shark,
Root of hemlock digg’d i’ the dark,
Liver of blaspheming Jew,
Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Sliver’d in the moon’s eclipse,
Nose of Turk, and Tartar’s lips,
Finger of birth-strangl’d babe
Ditch-deliver’d by a drab,--
Make the gruel thick and slab:
Add thereto a tiger’s chaudron,
For the ingredients of our caldron.
Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire, burn; and caldron, bubble.”
Macbeth, Act IV, Scene 1
Lucinda Glib pursed her lips into a tight rosy line. “Remus you’re looking a bit off today, dear, are you feeling all right?”
I nodded, quickly stuffing the remains of my egg sandwich in my mouth and attempting to look utterly enrapt in the latest Apparation license application to land on my desk. I don’t know why I bothered, the woman was more pernicious than a head cold.
“I just thought,” she paused and leaned in closer, peering at me over the rims of her reading glasses. “Well, I just thought what with the news about that poor Mr. Longbottom...”
I nearly choked on the mush of egg and bread in my mouth before cramming it to one side and managing a hasty, “What? Neville? What news?”
Her eyes widened and she reached out to pat my hand gently. “Oh dear, I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you this...I’d thought...Well, I should have known better, you’re not one to gossip, dear. But, well it’s been all over the Ministry today. You see I was speaking to Tabitha down in Improper Use of Magic, and she says Dorothy in Magical Law Enforcement mentioned that three full squads of Aurors had been dispatched to Mr. Longbottom’s home this morning after his wife reported that there’d been an ‘accident’. Hmph, accident my foot, three squads of Aurors don’t show up on someone’s doorstep if all that’s happened is they’ve splinched themselves beyond repair or tumbled off a broom mid-air.” She shook her head, setting her light brown curls bouncing. “Nobody’s seen that many sent out since...well, since you know when.”
Swallowing with some difficulty, I asked softly, “Do you know what happened?”
“No,” she quickly looked around as if checking for extendable ears, “but I thought, as your wife was one of those sent out that perhaps you...”
“Nymphadora? No, she...I mean I haven’t spoken to her since we left for work this morning.” I sat, stunned, the sandwich a dead weight in my stomach. “I suppose he’s...I mean, he must be...”
She nodded solemnly, and her hazel eyes softened a bit. “Did you know him very well?”
“Yes, yes I did. He was a remarkable young man. A real hero of the Second War. We couldn’t have...” I couldn’t go on, my throat squeezed shut and my eyes had gone a bit hazy with tears. Lucinda handed me a handkerchief and gave me a gentle pat on the shoulder before returning to her own desk to tackle an ever growing inbox, teetering on the brink of collapse. I took a moment to collect myself, it wouldn’t do to fall apart at work. I was already seen as the office charity case, poor sickly Lupin, tolerated despite my monthly indisposition which had become a matter of “don’t ask, don’t tell” as far as my superiors were concerned. I brought in a little income in my part time work, managed to hold onto the tatters of my self-respect, and convinced myself that I was as content as I could ever hope to be.
I had learned early in life that contentment was a rare and precious achievement, and not to be squandered. I had also learned that pride was a luxury well beyond my means.
But what did any of that matter? Neville Longbottom, a sweet natured young man who’d done more good in his short life than most would in twice the time, was dead. And three squads of Aurors had been called in to investigate. I found myself praying to whatever deity might be listening that his end had at least been a relatively quick and painless one. I couldn’t bring myself to consider the alternatives.
****
I left work precisely on time. My health often necessitated relying on others to cover for me after a particularly trying full moon, and I found it utterly impossible to justify missing time otherwise. Best not to press my luck when it came to the good will of my coworkers, and it simply wasn’t worth the resulting, inevitable guilt.
The Atrium was full of bustling witches and wizards, most heading for the outgoing floos. No one so much as glanced at me, I’d become comfortably nondescript, as uninteresting to those passing by as a potted philodendron. Just another Ministry employee heading home after a long day’s paper pushing. There’d been a time I’d have happily parted with a major organ to achieve that kind of anonymity.
I was home myself a few seconds later, brushing myself off and chucking my robes onto the nearest chair. With a wave of my wand I set the tea kettle to boiling and noted with a quick sniff that Nymphadora had, yet again, neglected to clear out the litter pan before flooing in that morning. I sighed and cast a quick scourgify, sparing an annoyed glance at Lord Whimsy. He just gazed up at me adoringly, licking his lips when I wasn’t immediately forthcoming with his dinner. Of course the wretched little beast knew I’d bend to his will, and of course I did so, putting out a tin of something vaguely tuna-like. The little black Manx purred contentedly and wagged his stump of a tail like an overexcited puppy as he dug in.
It’s not as if I blamed him really, it wasn’t his job to clean up after himself. And he certainly hadn’t begged me for nearly a month straight with assurances that I wouldn’t be expected to do a single thing where he was concerned. And, of course, he was rather nice to have around on those long, lonely full moon nights. He loved nothing better than crawling up on top of me, curling up and purring himself to sleep with the Wolf.
He was a sweet enough little fellow, but I’d never been one for pets. I’d always had enough of a job just looking after myself, but Nymphadora could be quite persuasive, or perhaps more accurately, quite persistent. Her youth, health and natural stamina have always given her a vast advantage over me, all she’s ever needed to do was simply wait for me to tire out.
Not a terribly romantic perspective, but an honest one. Perhaps I’d finally started to grow up a bit, learned from my experiences with Sirius in particular. It was all well and good to love someone in spite of their faults and weaknesses, but it was senseless to blind oneself to those faults in the name of love. Had I learned that just a few years earlier...Well, it didn’t do to dwell on old pain, life was all too eager to provide new sources, after all.
I made myself a steaming cup of Earl Grey and toyed with the idea of heating up a bit of the previous night’s pot roast. It had come out rather well, if I did say so myself. Not that I was hungry in the slightest, it was more habit than any real desire. I suspected his Lordship would end up benefiting far more from it than I would, the little wretch.
I leaned over to scoop him up in my arms, then carried him and my tea into the living room for a nice sit down. My plush, slightly ragged armchair welcomed me back with a soft groan that told me just how much strain the repair spells holding the poor old thing together were under. I should update them, it was on my list of “to do” items, but somehow I just never seemed to get around to it. There were too many other chores to do, messes to be cleaned up, cats to be fed, and occasionally books to be read. All too occasionally, as it turned out. The last book I’d been steadily working my way through had at least 3 months of dust collecting on its cover.
Whimsy purred rapturously and danced across my legs in blissful circles. I patted him and leaned further back into the cushions, the tension seeping out of me with every slow, deep breath. I must have fallen asleep shortly thereafter, as I awoke with a start at the sound of the floo activating. My tea was stone cold, and Whimsy was nowhere in sight. I blinked as Nymphadora dusted herself off and smiled apologetically, “Sorry, luv, didn’t mean to wake you.”
“S’all right,” I replied, scrubbing my face quickly in an effort to come fully awake. “Long day?”
She nodded and chucked her robes on the sofa, following them down with a weary sigh. “We all stopped at the Cauldron for a few drinks after...” Her face went unnaturally still and pale, I hadn’t seen her like this since the war. “You must have heard about Neville.” I nodded slowly and watched her eyes slowly change from hazel to blue-gray, it was a subtle indicator of just how horrified she’d been by the day’s events, and my heart sank. “Oh Remus, it was...”
“What happened to him?”
Covering her face she moaned softly, “He’s dead, he...I’ve never seen anything like it before. Even in the Final Battle when the Death Eaters were vying with Dementors to see which of them could be the most vicious, even then there were limits. Avada Kedavaras and the Dementor’s Kiss were at least quick...clean...What happened to Neville wasn’t.” She met my eyes then, and I had the sudden, intense desire to beg her not to tell me after all. “The Chief Necromancer is performing the necropsy as we speak, not that there’s any doubt about why he died. His guts were....it looked like he’d melted from the inside out. Remus,” her voice broke and her lips trembled, “who would do such a thing? The war is over, the Death Eaters have all been rounded up or killed. And Neville never had an enemy in his life. Who could have hated him enough to do that to him?”
I shook my head sadly, then moved over to the sofa to wrap an arm around her and pull her close. “I don’t know, Dora, I just don’t know.”
“I’m going to find them,” her jaw jutted forward, and her face set into harsher, more angular lines, “I’m going to find this bastard.”
I leaned my chin against the top of her head and just continued to hold her until she relaxed a bit. “Are you hungry?”
“I’m not sure I’m ever going to be hungry again,” she replied, wrapping her arms around me more snugly. “Mmm, this is nice, seems like forever since we just curled up together like this. I wish...”
Sighing, I turned my head away, I was too tired, much too tired for this conversation.
She drew back a bit to look up at me. “I still love you, Remus.”
“I know that, dear, I know that. But I’m afraid that doesn’t make it any easier.”
“Why not? Why can’t we just...”
I pulled away from her, gently, but firmly. “It’s late and you no doubt have an early morning. We should get some sleep, don’t you think?”
She slumped back on the couch and shook her head, staring down at her hands sadly. She fiddled with her wedding ring absently before saying, “I...I think I’ll stay up for a bit longer. You go ahead.”
“Right. Good night then.” I moved quietly into the bedroom, Whimsy hot on my heels. At least I wouldn’t be sleeping entirely alone as my wife spent another evening dozing on the couch after too many butter beers. I told myself it was for the best, that somehow it made more sense that way. I’d been telling myself that for a very long time, it seemed.