Remembrance Day

~

'I'm going now. I should be back fairly soon.' Sirius clapped Remus on the shoulder. 'I'm sorry to leave you like this, but I'll be here in the morning.'

'It's all right.' Remus could feel the beginnings of the dull ache that marked his transformation. 'Where are you going?' As soon as the words were out of his mouth he regretted it. Sirius had been very secretive about what he was doing, and he knew that now Sirius would either lie or refuse to answer. In the half-light his expression was difficult to read.

'Stuff I need to get done,' said Sirius vaguely. 'The garden is all walled up again, I've fixed the spell around it, so you won't get out.'

Remus smiled slightly. Sirius had insisted he come and stay with him a few months ago, and Remus had been pleased to accept. His house was empty and lonely, whereas Sirius always had something happening around him. He sat down on the steps behind the back door, feeling very tired.

'Well, then I'll see you tomorrow,' said Sirius. 'Good luck.'

'You too. Take care.' Remus watched as Sirius went back into his house and locked the door behind him. He wondered where he was going. Why was it that Sirius didn't seem to trust him any longer? Well, he could guess. Dumbledore had hinted often enough that he believed there was a member of the League Against Voldemort who was working against them. But it bit deep that Sirius could suspect him.

That was probably why he was here, Remus reflected as he made his way towards the bottom of the garden and sat down again. So that Sirius could keep an eye on him. He had not dared to ask Sirius to his face if he doubted his loyalty. He knew all too well why he was not to be trusted. A stab of pain reminded him yet again of what he was, and he pulled off his cloak, which was all he was wearing, to keep it from being torn to shreds. Standing up with difficulty, he stuck it in the branches of a tree to keep it safe. Then he dropped to his knees and curled up on the cold grass as the moon rose. The last thing he remembered hearing was the low throb of the motorcycle engine as Sirius left.

~

A drop of water fell on Remus' face, and then another. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. Another icy drop fell straight into his eye, and he closed them again. The rain beat against his skin, and he shivered a little. In a minute, Sirius would come down and help him, as he always did. At least he could always rely on Sirius, whatever happened.

Several minutes passed, and Remus began to shiver more violently. Perhaps Sirius had overslept, or been detained on his mysterious errand. He sat up unsteadily and gained his feet. For a moment he stood leaning against the ancient oak tree he had been lying under when he had transformed back. His cloak was still tucked in the branches, soaking wet. Well, it was better than nothing. Remus wrung it out wearily and pulled it around him. He looked up at the house across the expanse of lawn and groaned. It seemed miles away. Slowly Remus began to make his way towards the back door.

It was locked. Knowing that Sirius kept a spare key under the rosebush, Remus bent down to find it. His fingers were stiff and cold, and he fumbled with the key for a while before he could open the door. Finally it gave way and he went wearily into the kitchen. All the lights were burning, and Remus was a little dazzled as he pulled himself towards a chair.

He closed his eyes for a while, slumping back against the chair. In a minute, Sirius would come down. Before he even knew it, he had fallen asleep.

~

'Sirius Black?' There was a voice loud in his ear. Remus started violently into wakefulness. He opened his eyes. Seven wizards, all wearing the Hit Wizard's uniform of yellow and green, were standing around him with wands raised.

'What?' he gasped. 'I'm not Sirius. What's happening?' His voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper. Was this some kind of prank?

'Sirius Black, I hereby arrest you for wilfully giving support and passing information to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,' said the Hit Wizard at the front in a loud, staccato voice.

'I'm not Sirius,' he repeated, raising his own voice. Then, as what the wizard had said sunk in, he pushed himself to his feet. 'What? You've made some sort of mistake. Sirius wasn't passing information to Voldemort.'

Everybody flinched at the name, and the wand in the Hit Wizard's hand quivered. He pointed it straight at Remus' chest.

'Don't move!' he barked. Remus froze. 'Your master's gone,' said the Hit Wizard, not without some glee. 'Will you come quietly?'

All the sudden information was making Remus' head spin. Who was gone? He clung to what he could be sure of.

'I'm not Sirius Black. I don't know where he is.'

The Hit Wizard frowned. 'Who are you, then?'

'Remus Lupin.'

There was a pause. One of the other Hit Wizards looked down his nose at Remus. 'I think he's telling the truth,' he said. 'Didn't they say Black had dark hair and was quite good-looking?'

They all looked at Remus, whose face was still drawn and shadowed from the transformation. Hesitantly, the lead Hit Wizard lowered his wand, though Remus could see that only the slightest provocation would bring it up again.

'How come you're here, then? Is this Black's house?'

'Yes, 'answered Remus automatically. 'But what – why do you want Sirius? What's he done?'

All the wizards looked at their feet for a moment, and Remus' anxiety grew. 'He was working for You-Know-Who,' said one after a pause.

Remus turned deathly pale. 'No!' he said weakly. 'No! Sirius would never work for Voldemort.'

'That's what they all say,' retorted the wizard. 'But he did. Professor Dumbledore told us himself.' He gave a grim smile. 'Anyway, there won't be any more traitors. He's gone.'

'Who's gone?'

'You-Know-Who. Vanished.' The Hit Wizard's face turned sombre. 'Turned up at Godric's Hollow last night and he killed the Potters, but then he couldn't kill their little son Harry, and he vanished. Even Professor Dumbledore says he's gone.'

Remus had been staring incredulously as the Hit Wizard had spoken. His matter-of-fact, calm voice blurred in his ears, and the world spun around his head. Weak-kneed, he collapsed into the chair. It wasn't true. It couldn't be true. Not here, not now.

'What's the matter?' asked the Hit Wizard, not unkindly. 'If you're not Black there's nothing for you to worry about. Any help you might be able to give us concerning his whereabouts would be very useful.'

Remus only shook his head. It was impossible. Sirius would never have betrayed them, he couldn't have done it. Sirius might be rash and headstrong, but he was no traitor. James had trusted him like nobody else in the world, ever since they were students at Hogwarts.

'Look at this!' Sirius and James were pulling stunts on their broomsticks, while Remus watched from the ground in horror, Peter beside him. Sirius did a loop and then rolled over sideways. He stopped spinning and flew straight for a minute. Then, unexpectedly, he pointed the handle of his broomstick straight at the ground and made a dive. Remus stood very still, watching tensely. Sirius pulled out a few feet above the ground and shot up again almost as quickly, rising into another loop. Then he flew straight, James appearing beside him.

'Easy, wasn't it?' he said to James in the voice that Remus often joked could be heard in Hogsmeade. 'I saw the Bats – you know, the professional stunt riders – doing that over the Christmas holidays. They did something else, too.'

While Remus watched, he muttered a quick explanation to James, who nodded. Sirius flew down so that his broomstick was directly underneath James.

'Now!'

Remus held his breath, one hand gripping his wand, while James slid from his own broomstick. For a moment he hung by his hands, and then he let go. He seemed to float in the air for an eternity, before he landed neatly across the handle of Sirius' new Starcatcher. Sirius put out a hand to steady him, and they rode tandem for a few moments. James' riderless broomstick was holding a steady course ahead of them. They both leaned forwards at the same moment, and caught up with it. Before Remus could even blink, Sirius had jumped over and was riding James' broomstick. He punched the air.

'There!' he shouted in triumph. 'I said I wouldn't let you fall!'

Suddenly an earsplitting alarm sounded, jerking Remus out of his memories. All the Hit Wizards raised their wands.

'They've found him,' gasped one. The alarm grew more shrill and urgent, and Remus covered his ears with his hands.

'He's in London,' said another. 'Ready?'

One looked at Remus uncertainly. 'If he's one of Black's friends, he might be helpful to us. Shall we take him?'

'Whatever you want,' responded the leader. 'Three – two – one – go!'

In a flicker, every Hit Wizard Disapparated. One tried to force Remus with them, but his head was still spinning and he couldn't work the spell. He sank back onto the chair, the silence ringing in his ears more loudly than the alarm had done.

Surely there had been some mistake. Surely it was all a black joke, or one of the Ministry's endless stupidities. There was no way it could be true.

Time passed, though he had no idea how much. He sat full of fear, hoping desperately that they were wrong, wishing he had been strong enough to go with the Hit Wizards and see for himself. He thought of Sirius last night, off on a mysterious errand from which he did not return, and his hope grew fainter.

After a while, an eternity of sitting staring into space as if he had been hit over the head, Remus could sense the onset of some magic. He looked up bleakly. As he did so, the air flickered and Professor Dumbledore Apparated before him. His face was grim.

'Professor Dumbledore … it's not true, is it?' Remus asked at once, his voice shaking a little. 'Those Ministry wizards were mistaken, weren't they?'

Dumbledore did not have to ask what he was referring to. 'Remus, I'm sorry, but it's true. They've caught Sirius now, and there's no doubt of what he did. You didn't know about the Fidelius Charm, did you?'

'The Fidelius Charm? What?' Remus shook his head in confusion. In a few words, Dumbledore explained what the Charm was and how it worked.

'Sirius was their Secret-Keeper,' he finished in a sombre tone. 'I know you hate to hear this, I can scarcely believe it myself, but it's true. Only he could have betrayed them.'

'And … they've caught him? Can I see him?' Even if it was utterly fruitless, Remus wanted to see Sirius, and try to find out why he had done this.

'No.' Dumbledore's expression was sympathetic. 'He's on his way to Azkaban already, they'll hold the trial there. I have another piece of bad news for you, Remus. Peter Pettigrew went after Sirius – he must have been chasing him since last night – and he found him before the Hit Wizards. He must have found out about the Charm, somehow. He tried to challenge Sirius to a duel.'

Remus would have turned paler had that been possible. 'Peter? No … no, not him as well.' His voice was taut.

'I'm very sorry, Remus. Sirius killed Peter, and twelve Muggles who were unlucky enough to be around. So you see why they've taken him straight to Azkaban.'

Remus nodded without really hearing the words. He recalled the Hit Wizards trying to take him with them when the alarm went off. If only I'd gone with them, he thought. Perhaps, if I'd been there, I could have helped Peter, perhaps I could have stopped Sirius. But even as it occurred to him, he knew it was a foolish, arrogant hope. He knew all too well how impossible it was to persuade Sirius of anything when his mind was made up.

'They'll need you to give evidence at the Ministry, you must have been one of the people who saw him last,' said Dumbledore after a moment of silence. 'I'll try to make it as brief as I can for you, but I can't promise anything.'

'It's all right,' said Remus dully. 'I'll be fine.' Nothing could really hurt him any more than this.

'I've got to return there in a moment.' Dumbledore frowned a little. 'If you come with me we can get it over with straight away.'

'All right.' Remus looked around. His wand was lying on the kitchen table where he had left it last night. It surprised him a little that Sirius had left it to him. But then, he had known he would be safe, hadn't he? After all, at the full moon he would have known he would not be interfered with, he had probably planned it that way.

'How long?' asked Remus suddenly. 'How long was he working for Voldemort?'

'We can't be sure. I first noticed that certain important pieces of information were being passed on to him about three years ago.'

Remus sank back against the chair. Three years. Three years he had trusted Sirius, three years Sirius had worn a mask of friendship and kindness, and three years Sirius had been betraying them all. He could scarcely bear to think of it.

'I'm sorry.' Dumbledore looked equally miserable. There was a loud explosion outside, and they both jumped. Remus swore, and Dumbledore went to the window.

'Fireworks,' he said in a lighter tone. 'Someone's having a party.' There was another bang, and Remus saw the glittering sparks in the sky.

'During the day?' he asked after a moment. 'Idiots.'

'They're probably wizards,' said Dumbledore. 'Celebrating the fact that Voldemort's gone.'

Remus only shook his head. He sighed as another firework exploded.

'We'd better go to the Ministry,' said Dumbledore. Remus got to his feet.

'I'll just go and put something decent on,' he said, plucking at his still-damp cloak miserably. 'I'll be back in a moment.'

It was an effort to climb up the stairs to his room, not only because he was worn out from the transformation. Every object he saw reminded him of Sirius. The house was full of him. He began to shiver as he got changed. How could this have happened? All his friends, gone, in a moment, in a single night. And here he was still living and breathing, the worst of them, the werewolf. He pulled a sweater over his head and shoulders, and sat down heavily on the bed.

He knew this sick feeling too well, this endless pain. Sirius must be feeling like this now, was his sudden and unwelcome thought, surrounded by Dementors. He slumped back on the bed, too drained of feeling to do anything, and he lay there for a long time.

Footsteps on the stairs made him turn his head a little, and he saw Dumbledore come into the room.

'Remus?' Remus looked up at him. Dumbledore came to sit on the side of the bed. 'You don't have to do this today if you'd rather not,' he said gently.

'I'll do it,' said Remus. 'Better to get it over with.' He did not move, however. Dumbledore sat waiting, but Remus said nothing. At length, he sat up. Dumbledore extended a long-boned hand to help him to his feet. He was surprisingly strong, though his skin was papery with age.

'Here's your wand.' Dumbledore blinked and produced it out of thin air. 'I'll Apparate you there, just stand still.'

Before Remus could answer, Dumbledore worked a spell. Without even having to touch Remus, he flicked his wand. Everything began to spin faster and faster, and then the room vanished.

A few seconds later, Remus was standing in a quiet office in London. Dizzily, he put a hand on the desk beside him and caught his breath. Dumbledore was beside him.

'Have a seat, I'll go get one of the officials to take your statement. They'll just want to know about how you saw Sirius last and things like that, it'll be easy enough.'

Dumbledore left the office, and Remus took a long breath. He could hear the bustle around them of people rushing through the Ministry. As ever, Sirius had managed to cause a huge disruption. Then he shook his head so violently it hurt, to get rid of that thought. Sirius had caused a disruption by becoming a mass-murderer and a traitor.

He heard voices outside. 'He's in my office?'

'Cornelius, it was the first one that came to mind. He was one of Sirius Black's close friends, the man your Hit Wizards tried to arrest earlier.' That was Dumbledore's voice.

'A friend of Black's?'

'That's right. I assure you he had no knowledge of this, and he's very shocked. Can you find me someone sensible to take the statement, please?'

'Of course, Professor. Straight away.' Remus finally placed the voice. It was the young politician, Cornelius Fudge. He had been working for the League as well, though not to any great effect, and he treated Dumbledore with a respect bordering on reverence.

'The Minister would like to see you, in the meantime,' continued Cornelius Fudge. 'If you could spare a few minutes. He needs your evidence about the Fidelius Charm straight away, they want to get the trial sorted out.' Remus heard him sigh. 'Of course, there's no doubt of his guilt. I saw him when he – he blew the street up, with my own eyes.'

Remus shivered a little. That buffoon had been there when Peter died, and he had been sitting like a stone at Sirius' house, not lifting a finger. If only he had gone. He looked at the desk piled high with papers. There was a photograph there, and even upside down he had no doubt of who it was. Carefully, he picked it up.

Sirius looked insane. He was standing in the street, a Muggle place to judge by the shops, and just behind him the ground was broken up and the windows were smashed. Remus could just see a body on the ground, unidentifiable. But it was the face that held his eye. Sirius was laughing. He was wearing his reckless, devil-may-care expression, save for the look in his eyes of fury and frustration. Remus stared for a long time, until he could bear it no longer. He dropped it back on the desk, feeling like he had been punched in the stomach.

A moment later he picked it up again, as if to check it was real. He was still looking at it when the door opened. A man he did not know came in, dressed in a pale blue suit and holding a matching top hat in his hand. He was short and balding, and he wore a professional smile.

'Remus Lupin?' he asked.

'Yes.'

The man crossed the room to him and after only a tiny hesitation, extended his hand. Remus shook it.

'I'm Mortimer Platt. I'm the undersecretary for the Security department, and I'm working on the inquiry into this tragedy.' He spoke smoothly, as if he were dealing with a press conference. 'I know you must be upset, but there are some questions I have to ask you.' He took a seat opposite Remus.

'That's fine,' said Remus dully. He looked at the photo in his hand and saw with faint surprise that his knuckles were white from gripping it. Carefully, he put it down. Mortimer Platt caught the movement.

'Yes, those photos just came in. That one was taken for the Prophet. I wasn't actually on the scene, but a number of people I knew were. They said he was laughing.'

'I can see that,' said Remus. He did not dare say any more.

'Well then,' said Mortimer Platt after a brief silence, 'let's get started.' He pulled out a piece of parchment and tapped it with his wand. 'That's the Scriptis Spell,' he explained. 'All our conversation will be recorded here for legal purposes.'

'All right.' Remus looked curiously at the words snaking across the page.

'You are Remus Lupin, a member of Dumbledore's League?'

'That's right.'

'And a friend of Sirius Black?'

'Yes.' The word came heavily from his lips. 'I was.'

Mortimer Platt nodded. 'Did you ever think he might be involved with You-Know-Who?'

'No.' Remus hesitated. 'There was nothing he did that ever made me doubt him.' Even as he spoke, he was marvelling at what a good liar Sirius must have been, if he had spent three years working as a double agent.

'So you had no idea at all.'

'That's right.' Remus wished the man wouldn't hammer it in so much.

'I take it you've had the events of last night and this morning explained to you?'

Remus sighed. 'Yes,' he said patiently.

'When was the last time you saw Black?'

'Yesterday, just before moonrise.' Remus paused, wondering if this man knew what he was. 'He told me he was going out and he would be back in the morning.'

'Did he tell you where he was going?'

'No.'

'You didn't consider going with him?'

Remus shook his head, and then remembered the Scriptis Spell. 'No,' he said for its benefit.

'Why was this?'

Remus looked at him for a moment. Clearly, he didn't know. He took a deep breath. It didn't matter who knew, not now. 'I couldn't go with him. Perhaps no-one's explained this to you. I'm a werewolf.' He saw the words marching in black ink across the parchment as if to emphasise what he was saying.

Mortimer Platt's jaw dropped. He looked at Remus for a second, and glanced at the parchment to check he had heard it correctly. Remus could see the normal gamut of emotions cross his face: shock, fear, horror and disgust.

'I – I was not informed of this.' As he spoke, he was edging backwards as if Remus might explode at any second.

Remus' face was expressionless. He watched as the man recovered his composure, running his hand over his remaining hair.

'Well,' he said, taking a deep breath, 'in any case, you did not accompany Black on his trip, nor did you know where he was going. Is that correct?'

'Yes.'

'Black was next seen at the ruins of the Potter's house.'

Remus tried to blot a picture of a different house, also blown up by Voldemort, from his mind. It took a considerable amount of concentration. Had Sirius been working for Voldemort then too?

Mortimer Platt continued. 'At this point we had not yet learnt that it was due to his betrayal that they were killed. The child, Harry Potter, was removed and Black vanished again. It appears that Peter Pettigrew managed to trace and pursue him. I'm sure you know the rest.'

'Yes.' It seemed safest to say the least.

'You were not aware of him returning to his house in the interim?'

'No.' It was hardly likely, Remus thought, that Sirius would come and take a look at the werewolf he had tricked so well.

'You were unaware of Black's involvement with You-Know-Who throughout the time?'

'I didn't have any idea at all.'

'Black has denied all the charges, despite his evident guilt,' said Mortimer Platt. 'However, there is no doubt that he will be convicted.'

'He's denied it?' Remus frowned. That didn't sound like Sirius. He had never refused to take the blame when he was caught, even after he had blown up half the Potions classroom when he was experimenting with something that certainly wasn't on the syllabus. Then he had owned up at once when Professor Senna had threatened to give all the Gryffindors detention unless someone came forwards. And many, many times he had taken the blame for things all three of them had done to save James and Remus' skin. He must truly have been twisted by his work for Voldemort.

'That's correct,' said Mortimer Platt, jolting Remus out of his thoughts. 'Well, I think that's all I need to ask you.' He seemed in a great hurry to leave now, which did not surprise Remus. 'Thank you for helping us.' He rose, and cancelled the Scriptis spell. He did not shake Remus' hand again as he left.

Remus was not alone for long, for Professor Dumbledore came back in, looking grim and tired.

'Was that all right?' he asked, crossing the room to join Remus.

'Yes,' lied Remus. Dumbledore only nodded.

'The funeral will be on Friday. Peter is going to be awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class.'

Remus nodded without speaking. Then a thought struck him. 'What about Harry? The Hit Wizards said he survived, that Voldemort didn't kill him, and that man said he'd been taken from – from the house.'

'That's right.' Dumbledore looked thoughtful. 'He's at Hogwarts for the time being, it's safest there. Hagrid's keeping his eye on him.'

'Sirius was his godfather …' began Remus. He shook his head violently, trying to escape that thought. 'Let me take him.'

Professor Dumbledore hesitated. 'We haven't decided yet what we'll do with him. None of James' relatives are living, and Lily's are all Muggles. In their will, they said he should be left in Sirius' care, but that's out of the question.' He looked at Remus uncertainly.

Remus knew what he was thinking. Who in their right minds would give a child to a werewolf to look after? As soon put him in a cage full of tigers. But wasn't he the only one who remained of James and Lily's close friends? It was his right to care for their son. He looked at Dumbledore's unreadable expression, and thought he saw pity and rejection there. He blinked hard. Outside he heard more fireworks, and an owl shot past the window.

'No,' he said, 'you're quite right. I'm not fit to care for him.' There was a hard edge in his quiet voice. 'Send him off to the Muggles or wherever you had in mind, I'll not trouble him.' The room began to blur before his swimming eyes and he bit his lip hard. He had to get away from this.

He stood and picked up his wand. Before Dumbledore could answer him, he mustered all his strength and Disapparated.

He reappeared in Sirius' house, in the kitchen again. He was shaking with effort, and he grabbed at the table to keep himself from falling. Unsteadily, he pulled a chair towards him and sank onto it. No, it was right that he should have nothing to do with Harry. He thought of what he had been when his parents had died. A ravening monster, lusting only for human blood, with no knowledge that his friend was betraying them.

He put his head in his arms on Sirius' kitchen table. After a time, his shoulders began to shake. He wept there alone while the fireworks for the celebrations went off around him.

~

The conviction – life imprisonment in Azkaban – didn't really surprise Remus. He had a feeling of numbness when he read of it in the papers. Of course, he knew what that would mean. He had studied the effects of Dementors as part of his work for Defence Against the Dark Arts, he had even encountered them in his work. In a few days, Sirius would be insane and he would remain so for the rest of his life. Why should he care so much? Sirius was a traitor, he was a murderer and a false friend.

Think of James, he told himself, think of Lily. They had been two halves of a greater whole, he felt a kind of relief that James had not outlived Lily. That was one cruelty he had been spared.

Harry was gone to live with Muggles, to be left severely alone by the magical world. Remus felt his stomach knot as he remembered that. But of course he had been stupid to think it could turn out any other way. He got up from where he was sitting in his study. Sirius' house had been cordoned off and taken into the possession of the Ministry, and Remus was back in Alder Brook. And he was utterly alone.

He looked through the window at the hills and the town below. Perhaps he should go for a walk. Perhaps he should find some lonely place and take his wand and curse himself. It wasn't the first time this had crossed his mind. But he knew he wouldn't do it, he lacked that kind of courage. Well, he could go for a walk, at least. There were church bells ringing in the distance, and he wondered why. It wasn't Sunday, he knew that much.

The funeral had been last Friday. Remus had gone, in a strange half-waking nightmare. He remembered little of it now, only the soft whisper of the autumn wind around them as they stood about the grave, and the strange look of joy on Lily's face. Had she known her child would live? Remus hoped she had.

After a while, he did get up and go outside. He was wearing Muggle clothes, he wasn't sure why. He walked down the street. He began thinking of Sirius again. How could he not have known, how could Sirius have been pretending all the while. Had it all been lies, when Sirius had helped and comforted him? He remembered so many times when Sirius had protected him, had fought for him and defended him.

~

'Now, in conclusion of our study of monsters, we will consider werewolves this afternoon.' Professor Hale carefully kept from looking at Remus as he spoke. Remus felt his stomach clench. Normally, he was fascinated by Defence Against the Dark Arts, but he had not realised that they would do this one day. He swallowed and did his best to maintain a calm and empty face. Beside him, James shot him a glance of concern. Remus tried to ignore him, knowing that sympathy would make him lose his control altogether.

'Werewolves, fortunately, do not commonly occur in England. As I'm sure you know, they are created from normal people, who receive a werewolf bite. Legend has it that the people who are bitten often have a certain amount of the animal in their soul already and have an affinity for it. At the full moon, they are transformed to wolves, whereupon they have a strong craving for human blood. The werewolf is very dangerous because he retains some of the human's cunning, especially immediately after moonrise and before moonset.'

Remus sat silently throughout the lesson, listening to people describe different ways of killing werewolves, and the things that could harm them, not correcting the errors he knew they were making. When Professor Hale brought out some stalks of wolfsbane to show them, Remus shrank back in his seat. Professor Hale gave him a sharp glance but did not force him to examine the plant as he did the others.

'Why don't they just kill them all?' asked a Hufflepuff boy sitting at the front when Hale asked if they had any questions. 'Then there wouldn't be any more problems with people getting bitten and killed.'

'Yeah,' said another student. 'It's not as though anyone would want them around.'

'There have been many plans for exterminating all such monsters,' said Professor Hale. 'However, they have never got through the Ministry, there has always been some veto. But killing a werewolf has never counted as murder, since the Monsters Act of 1654, no matter what time of the month it is. So in that respect the law shows some sense.'

The bell rang. Remus had rarely been so glad to hear it. He stood up and was the first to leave the room. Sirius pushed after him, but Remus did not look around. He walked straight to the Gryffindor common room and up to his dormitory. He had scarcely been there alone for a minute when the door was slammed open.

'I could kill him!' spat Sirius. 'How dare he say all that, with you there?'

'It's all right,' said Remus, looking at Sirius' enraged face with incredulity. 'He's not wrong.' His voice was empty.

'Of course he's wrong!' Sirius could not stand still as he spoke, and he paced around Remus. 'You're no more evil than – than Professor Dumbledore is! I don't believe I'm hearing this! Hale ought to be tied up and given to Peeves to play with. And Moony, if I ever hear you saying that you're – you're any of that stuff Hale said, I'll give you to Peeves.'

Remus managed a smile at that. 'All right, all right.' He took a deep breath, and smiled again, more convincingly.

'That's better.' Sirius still looked angry on his behalf. 'You'll laugh when you see what I'm going to do to Hale.' He sprawled down on his bed. 'Got any good ideas?'

~

Had he been privately wishing to work for Voldemort even then? When had his warm-hearted and generous nature become a front, a disguise for what he was really doing? Remus didn't know how it could be possible. But it was possible, people had betrayed their friends before.

The church bells were ringing in the Muggle town, pealing out loud and joyful from the tower. Remus walked down the street, not really seeing where he was going. Outside the church was a tall column, and around the base was a wreath of blood-red poppies. Remus stopped for a moment, attracted by the blaze of colour in the November morning. He bent and picked up one of the poppies. It was not real, but made of stiff paper, a Muggle thing. As he dropped it again, the inscription on the column caught his eye.

They shall not grow old as we that are left grow old

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn

At the going down of the sun and in the morning

We will remember them.

He stood for a long time there, reading the words carved into the stone. From inside the church, he heard the sounds of a trumpet playing the Last Post, and then the bells tolled again. We will remember them.

THE END

The verse is by Lawrence Binyon, from 'Poems for the Fallen.' It is read at Remembrance Day services all over the country every year.

Blaise