Chapter 1: Angel of Joy


Remus Lupin was in a morose frame of mind. He was going on to his fourth year at Hogwarts next month - the first werewolf to be educated there. He couldn’t ask for more. He should be content, but still some aspects of his school life disturbed him.

He owned he had a wonderful set of friends, who accepted him completely, lycanthropy and all. They were even planning to become Animagi to help him with his monthly transformations. He was the top of class and most of the teachers’ blue-eyed boy, although certainly not Horace Slughorn’s, that pre-judiced git.

A few others on staff always looked at him with revulsion, too, but he had long accepted that he would not be winning popularity contests, given his condition. He left that to James, or maybe Sirius, if the voting public consisted of only the female gender.

Remus was entering a strong adolescent phase and knew his limitations in the dating field, but had learned to accept them with a resolute mind. Still, when an excess of teenage and werewolf hormones raged for recognition, he felt unhappy to not acknowledge their presence.

Thankfully, years of squashing down on his instincts helped him tide over potential outbursts. After all, he knew he was fortunate to have been offered a place at Hogwarts. He did have to make some sacrifices on the way. He didn’t mind too much but wished that he could lead an ordinary life like his friends.

Things were unhappy on his home front too. His parents were trying to lobby for Werewolf rights, despite stiff opposition from all quarters. They spent their time, energy and money on it, that most necessities became a luxury.

Like new robes, that he had stepped into Madam Malkin’s to buy. Adolescence ensured that Remus grew at a rapid pace and he had to get new robes for the coming school year. He thought it was a luxury, but his mother insisted otherwise. She had always insisted that Remus have impeccable manners and be dressed properly at all times.

He was very grateful to his mother for that. She made him believe that he was not a monster and gave him the confidence to face the world on its terms. Thanks to her training, he always had a refined air about him. He knew that the money for the robes could be used for some much needed potions for his father, but his mother had insisted that his appearance was more important.

Thus, here he was in Madam Malkin’s, standing on a stool while outfitters whirled around taking measurements and draping lengths of cloth over him.

When he was lost in contemplation, he felt a tug at the hem of his robes. He lost balance on the stool and fell to the floor, though werewolf reflexes ensured that he landed on all fours. He looked up from the floor into limpid brown eyes and a toothsome smile. He had been floored … by a toddler!

‘Goo?’ queried the little girl. She reached out a chubby hand and pulled his nose.

Remus was flustered. He had a way of dealing with the young of animals, but had never had an opportunity to deal with babies, owing to his family’s isolation. After being rejected by even his cousins, he was taken aback that this baby could reach out for him happily.

He caught the baby’s hand and swung it to and fro. Then, he tickled the baby gently. The baby laughed - a sound of unadulterated, pure joy. Laughter that came straight from the heart without any premeditated thoughts influencing it. A sound that was possible only from children, from the very young.

Remus was enraptured by that sound. It had the ability to seep into the sad recesses of his heart that he thought would never feel sunshine. It reached out to the lost innocence of his childhood, sacrificed at the altar of a werewolf bite. It dispelled the silent areas of despair in him by filling it with a sound so joyful.

He gazed at the adorable infant who was now drooling over his robes.

‘Dorie!’ called a voice. A flustered looking middle-aged witch came into view. Seeing the fallen stool and robes, she knew that the baby had been involved in the fracas.

‘I am sorry, my boy! Did the baby disturb you? She wandered away from me.’ The witch rambled on breathlessly, ‘I am looking after her for a friend, but she is a handful. Come, Dorie! Your mother is waiting.’ She made to pick the baby up.

The baby in the meanwhile had caught Remus’s collar and was refusing to let go. Remus gently disentangled himself and smiled at the baby.

‘I am sorry, my dear,’ said the witch.

Remus demurred that it was not a bother and rose up.

With hurried thanks, the witch picked up the baby and turned to go.

The little girl looked up to see Remus. ‘Unnk?’ she said and gave a toothsome grin.

Remus smiled at her and waved goodbye. The baby waved back and kept waving until the witch turned a corner.

The boy was staring at the spot he had last seen the baby. He had entered the shop feeling unhappy, but suddenly everything seemed brighter and cheerful. Things may not be as dreary as it seems, he thought. He felt that his family will rally around somehow and looked forward to the coming school year. All because of limpid brown eyes, a toothsome smile and the sound of unadulterated joy.

‘Angel of Joy!’ whispered a voice in his ear.

Remus smiled.

* * *

Author’s Notes: I just discovered a slight discrepancy in the timeline. My previous notes showed Remus entering Hogwarts in 1971. Thus the story was based on it. But today, I noticed that the timeline has been altered. With your permission, let me take liberties with the timeline. Please bear with me!

Chapter 2: Angel of Mercy

Remus Lupin was in a very angry mood, though angry would have been a mild way of putting it. He strode down Diagon Alley in a fury, blasting some shrubs lining the road.


The source of his anger was another failed interview. This was with Obscurus Books, publishers of books on Magic - textbooks and research studies, a tailor-made job for Remus. Everything was going along ‘peachy fine’, as Sirius would have put it, till it came to the moment of acceptance, where he had to reveal his true condition to his prospective employer.


Remus had discussed this scenario with Dumbledore. When he was passed up for jobs with the Ministry because of his name on the Werewolf Register, he knew he would have to seek private employment. He had asked Dumbledore whether he had to inform the prospective employer about his condition.


Dumbledore knew that Remus was a straightforward guy, who would not like to practice deceit. Thus, other than giving him letters of recommendation, including one that acknowledged his condition, he had also taught him some useful spells. Like the one he had just cast on Snyfle Snotworthy, the proprietor.


At the interview, Snotworthy had said that he was impressed with Remus’s NEWT scores and accomplishments at school. He had found Remus to be the quite, scholarly type who would be an asset to the publishing house, be it in writing or editing. He had also been appreciative that Remus was highly recommended by Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts. When he had been about to finalize the appointment, Remus had volunteered the letter from Dumbledore, outlying his condition.


The effect had been like a mime: shock, revulsion and then fear had chased each other across Snotworthy’s face. He had pushed his chair away from the table across which they had been discussing. He rubbed the hand that he had offered in handshake to Remus over his robes as if to rid it of contamination. And then he had slowly started boiling up in anger.


‘How dare you enter my office, you filthy werewolf?’ Mr. Snotworthy had yelled.


Remus had been very polite. ‘Sir,’ he had said, ‘I could have hidden the information from you but I chose not to. And you have Dumbledore himself vouching for me.’


But Snotworthy had not been willing to listen to reason.


As Remus got up to go, he had addressed Snotworthy, ‘Sir, may I have my certificates back?’


Snotworthy threw them at Remus as if his hand had been contaminated on contact with the parchments.


At the doorway, Remus had paused and said, ‘Sir, by the way..’ and had shot a spell at him, one that was taught by Dumbledore. It was basically an Obliviate with a slight touch of a confunding charm.


Snotworthy had looked up at the young man in front of him. ‘Yes, my dear, what can I do for you?’


With a straight face Remus had replied, ‘Just wanted to thank you for the lovely books you bring out.’


‘That’s ok, my boy!’ And as Remus had walked out, he had heard the man mutter, ‘Nice boy that! Seemed scholarly. Would he be interested in a job here?’


The irony of that situation would have not been lost on Remus at other times. But today, he was in no mood to appreciate it. This was just a repeat of what had happened in the past month, since graduating from Hogwarts.


As he left the publishers, he had thought about his desperation to get a job. His father had died last year, succumbing to an illness that he had neglected in trying to fight for Werewolf rights. His mother had taken a job at a Muggle bank, despite her ill-health. He desperately needed to earn to support his mother, and maintain the old family house which was falling to ruins.


He thought about his friends: James was chasing a career in professional Quidditch and Sirius was off on his bike to see the world, doing odd jobs on the way. Last heard of, he was in Egypt, helping out a curse-breaker. Even stupid, insipid Peter, who had copied his notes and whom he had coached for all exams had a job. Though it was a low level job at the Ministry for Magic, at their Floo Network Office, it was a paying job nevertheless.


Remus had strictly tried to avoid feeling bitter about his lot in life. But, today, all his pent up frustration and remorse had turned to anger and, thus, we found him striding down Diagon Alley in a furious mood.


As he was on his way to the Leaky Cauldron, he was drawn up short in front of Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor at the sight of Regulus Black deliberately tripping a little girl over.


The girl, who should have been about five tears of age, had just stepped out of the shop with a cone in either hand and was now lying sprawled on the side-walk. She moaned the loss of her ice-cream. ‘My favourite flavour too! Bubblegum!’


‘Yeah!’ sneered Regulus at the girl and a couple of his cronies around him sniggered. ‘Cry, you half-blooded freak!’


It was apparent to Remus that it was some personal vendetta. But this was taking things too far.


He helped the little girl up and fuelled by his furious mood, Remus threatened Regulus.


‘Just like a true Slytherin! Pick on the powerless and the innocent.’ The threat behind Remus’s words was not lost on Regulus.


It was for nothing that Remus had been one of the strictest prefects at Hogwarts. Though kind and helpful at all times, he was a terror for miscreants and Regulus and his gang of Slytherins had regularly been punished by Remus. His only failing though was his own close friends, on whose antics he had always been easy-going, despite being the ‘conscience’ of the group.


So, it was with trepidation that Regulus faced Remus. ‘This is a personal problem, so it’s none of your business to interfere. This is not Hogwarts!’


‘When there are imbeciles like you harassing the powerless, any wizard worth his wand would interfere!’ retorted Remus.


Regulus tried to put on a non-chalant face and remarked, ‘What can you do? Are you so jobless that you have to interfere in whatever is happening on the streets?’


Remus was already in a foul mood over his unemployment. The word ‘jobless’ seemed to taunt him. In his fury, he whipped out his wand and prepared to hex him.


Regulus and his cronies blanched in fear over a hex but that never came.


‘Mister!’ Remus felt a tug at his sleeve. He looked down to see the girl looking up at him with a tear-streaked face. The raging beast in him calmed down a little.


‘Yes, love! Hope you are not hurt?’


‘S’ok Mister. I fall often.’ She gazed directly into Remus’s eyes and said, ‘Please don’t punish them.’


Remus was taken aback by the girl’s statement. ‘Why, love? Why should I not punish them? Did they not hurt you?’


‘I know they are bad, but God will punish them. I don’t want you to be a bad person like them by hurting them.’


Remus was rendered speechless for a moment by the girl’s answer. In deference to the little girl’s wish he lowered his wand, but kept it ready all the same.


‘You heard that, Regulus?’ Remus asked in a very cold voice. ‘You were prepared to hurt her but she does not want retaliation. You are not worth the dust off her feet!’ Remus spat out the words as Regulus and his cronies looked rooted to the spot.


Remus squatted down at eye-level with the girl, by now his anger having fully dissipated. ‘With your permission, I will make him pay up for the cones. You can get new ones to replace the ones you lost.’ He gestured to the pink puddle on the side-walk.


‘Whee!’ screamed the girl in delight and nodded her head.


Remus got up and moved closer to Regulus in a threatening manner. ‘You heard? Pay up, Regulus! Or, prepare to face the consequences.’


Regulus quickly emptied a pocket and thrust five Galleons into Remus’s hand.


Remus asked him to apologize to the girl and Regulus mumbled his apologies in an undertone. With a curt jerk of his head, Remus ordered Regulus and his cronies to leave and watched till they went out of sight.


He turned to the girl and asked, ‘Have you come alone?’


The girl replied that her mother had left her to choose her ice-cream and had gone to the ‘owl-shop’. She had to await her mother’s return at the Parlor.


Remus handed her the money and asked her to buy some more ice-cream and have it inside the shop.


‘I can get lots of Bubblegum ice cream cones,’ squealed the girl and skipped away.


She came back suddenly and said, ‘Thank you, Mister!’ and hugged the only part of Remus she could reach, his bony knee, and ran away into the shop.


Remus watched her go and went on to the Leaky Cauldron.


As he was relaxing over his butterbeer, he thought over the day’s happenings. At one point of time he was furious enough to want to transform on a full night near Snotworthy and tear him to pieces. How did he calm down?


A quotation came into his mind, ‘Cowards are cruel, but the brave, love mercy and delight to save.’


Yes, thought Remus to himself. All it took, was a child to teach him about the ‘twice-blessed’ quality of mercy – only in this case, it was not Regulus who was the taker, but him.


He was so lost in contemplation that he failed to see a mother dragging her ice-scream streaked daughter to the Floo in the Leaky Cauldron. Nor did he hear the girl’s delighted squeal of ‘It’s him!’ in his direction, before she was whisked away by the green flames.


He reached a very tranquil state of mind and started to plan his job search for the next day, without any remorse. ‘From the mouth of babes....’ muttered Remus to himself, as he paid the barman and exited into Muggle London.


‘Angel of Mercy!’ whispered a voice in his ear.


Remus smiled.

* * *

Author’s Notes:


I did happen to see Bubblegum flavoured ice-cream last week and ogled the colour and smell, as I can’t eat ice-cream. I did drown my sorrows in chocolate, though. The quotation is by John Gay, a 17th century dramatist. ‘Twice-blessed’ refers to the famous quotation on the quality of mercy from The Merchant of Venice. Obscurus Books exist in HP-Lexicon, but Snyfle Snotworthy is my OC. I hate him, though.

Chapter 3: Angel of Hope

Remus looked around the Leaky Cauldron dejectedly. It was Christmas Eve and even the dreary old place looked all spruced up with festive cheer. In fact, it was cheerful to the point of being irritating when all he wanted to do was drown himself in Firewhisky.
He had chosen this place over a Muggle Bar as he knew that he could count on Tom, the barman, to put him up in one of the rooms if he passed out.
What Remus wanted to do more than anything was to avoid people noticing him. The looks of pity that they sent his way with the suspicion that followed, was driving him crazy.
He could almost read their thoughts from the looks on their faces.
It always started with pity. They thought of his friends who had died in the space of a day, and, just when they had labeled him as desolate, the thought that the reason for his friends’ demise was another friend would strike them. They usually frowned at this juncture and then started searching his face suspiciously. If this is the only one left, they began to conclude, then, he too must have been a traitor. And after that, with a shudder and a frightened look they would turn away, casting furtive looks at him, till he passed them.
Sometimes, Remus had wished that he could chase them with a wand and hex them badly, but being a gentleman, he just ignored them.
This season really depressed him. He flinched when people wished him ‘Merry Christmas’. He shuddered to see the decorations and bright lights. And if he heard one more ‘Ho! Ho!’ in his desperation, he would have bitten off that ruddy head, beard and all.
The truth was, Remus did not have anybody to celebrate Christmas with.
His mother had passed away the previous year. Though she had suffered ill-health, her end was quite peaceful. Her only regret in life was that she could not see her son well-settled, with a steady job and a family of his own. She had always told Remus that he was lucky to have friends, who were like family. She had known that they would rally around him after her demise.
And they did. Remus was not given time to brood by his friends and the greatest joy of their lives was Harry’s birth. The endless fights the men had as to who would hold Harry till Lily snatched him away; the competition to see who Harry smiled at the most number of times; the daily guesses of who he would look like when he grew up, all in some way, brought cheer to the grieving Remus.
Much as he didn’t want to, Remus’s thoughts kept wandering back to last Christmas Eve, where all his friends had gathered at the Potters’ to bring in Harry’s first Christmas.
He thought about the loss of all his friends within a day, two months back on Halloween. Three friends and one who turned out to be an enemy. He shuddered at the thought of Sirius and quickly downed a glass of Firewhisky.
Remus had not wanted to be disturbed. So, he had taken a table in a secluded corner. What he wished for was anonymity, but had settled for altering his appearance slightly and wearing a hood.
He looked around the Leaky Cauldron disinterestedly.
There were small gatherings at many tables, celebrating over a Christmas Eve dinner. There were some regular patrons over by the bar. One seemed like a hag with her face swathed in cloth. But on a hopeful note, she had pinned on a sprig of mistletoe to her hat.
Now, that is what is called optimism, thought Remus wryly. There is something about this season that makes people so positive, so hopeful. As if they knew that their wishes would be granted.
But hope was not a word in Remus’s vocabulary right then. He did not know what he should hope for. Too many things had happened.
He wished that the hag would at least get kissed. That seemed like the lark that his friends would have embarked on.
James would have dared one of them to go and kiss the hag and Sirius would have willingly accepted the dare…
Wait a minute! I am talking about friends. When did that traitor, Sirius, weasel his way into my thoughts?
He sighed in frustration. It was impossible to think about his friends without thinking about Sirius. They were all involved with each other far too much, that this act of betrayal seemed like a rape of the very foundation that friendships were built on.
He couldn’t believe that Sirius could have done it but the evidence pointed otherwise. Not to forget the massacre of Peter and all those Muggles. Who would have imagined that Peter, who was even scared to roam the hallways of Hogwarts alone at night, would stand up to Sirius and die a hero?
What puzzled Remus was that Sirius had not even attempted to contact him, to tell his side of the story. He decided that maybe, Sirius’s guilt was making him silent.
With inevitability, his thoughts turned back to their last happy times together – last Christmas.
It was indeed Harry’s first Christmas. But James had dubbed it as a ‘Cheer up Moony Christmas’.
They all had a lovely time buying gifts for Harry and each other, filling Peter’s stockings with gift-wrapped dung-bombs, and enjoying the feast that Lily had prepared.
He remembered the conversations clearly as if it had been yesterday …
‘…and so, I have hidden the toy broomstick inside a Muggle rocking-horse, that Lily bought,’ finished James triumphantly. He was discussing one of his gifts for Harry.
‘But, James,’ protested Remus, ‘he’s hardly five months old, and has not even mastered crawling, let alone walking. How do you plan to make him fly?’
‘Start them young!’ said James nonchalantly. ‘I want him to fly before he can walk. The broomstick comes with all toddler protection gear that you could think off. And Lily would never guess where I have hidden…’
‘What have you hidden?’ interrupted Lily as she entered the room.
‘Oh! Your Christmas present.’ James was startled but managed to cover up.
Lily snorted. ‘Hidden, indeed! It’s most likely something to do with Quidditch and that is a major surprise!’
‘Aw, Lils honey!’ said James sheepishly, thankful that the subject of the toy broom was hidden.
Lily thanked them all for the lovely gifts they had showered on Harry.
‘But you know,’ Sirius declared, ‘Harry already has the greatest gift of all. Me, his godfather!’ Sirius threw his chest out and thumped it in pride.
The next five minutes was spent in thumping Sirius speechless, while Lily looked on amused, with Harry in her arms.
When peace reigned finally, Sirius protested weakly, ‘But I am the best present Harry could have. I look forward to educating him in the ways of the world when he grows up. You know, talk to him about the birds and the bees,’ he finished with a sly wink at James, waiting for Lily’s outburst.
And Lily really exploded. ‘You!’ Lily pointed an accusing finger at Sirius. ‘James, this is why I told you that Remus would have been a better godfather to Harry. I shudder to think of how Sirius will corrupt Harry when he grows up.’
‘Remus!’ laughed James. ‘Old, Abbot Moony?’ He shook his head. ‘When it comes time to explain about life, Remus will give him a lecture about avian and insect life with charts and an encyclopedia for reference. When I am there, Harry does not require anybody else.’
‘Yes, he sure does. Me!’ replied Lily. ‘Only I can tell him what not to do, based on the famous example his father has set.’
‘Come on, Lils,’ pleaded James, ‘I was not so bad, was I?’
Remus was interrupted in his recollections by the shadow of a pair of antlers falling across his table.
He was so caught up in his memories that for a moment he thought it was his dead friend.
He turned to look but was dazzled by the light shining into his eyes.
‘Prongs?’ he enquired anxiously. ‘Prongsie?’
‘No, Tonksie!’ piped up a small voice.
Remus slowly managed to focus on a face that came up to just above the table top. And it was a very strange face.
It was evidently a young girl, maybe nine or ten years old. But she had on a pair of felt antlers and something akin to a pink tomato for a nose.
‘What are you?’ questioned Remus. The incongruity of this statement struck him even in his drunken state. ‘Who are you?’ he amended gently.
‘Tonksie!’ replied the girl enthusiastically. ‘I thought you were calling me.’ Seeing Remus’s puzzled look at her appearance, she smiled and said, ‘I’m Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. I like pink better. So, dad changed my nose to pink!’
Remus couldn’t help smiling at the girl’s statement. He was shocked out of his drunkenness at the question the girl posed next.
‘Are you also playing Rudolph? Your nose is red!’
Remus thought of the amount of Firewhisky consumed and sobered up immediately. He made an effort to look alert and less drunk in front of this girl who seemed to be comfortably chatting him up.
‘No, love, I have a cold!’ he managed, casting a quick spell to dry up the smell of Firewhisky on him.
‘Why are you alone on Christmas?’ questioned the girl curiously.
‘I have lost people close to me,’ said Remus somberly. ‘I do not have anyone to celebrate Christmas with.’
‘Oh!’ said the girl, lost in thought. After a long silence she added, ‘I too lost someone very close to me. Mum said that he has gone far away.’
‘But I am sure he will come back if I want him to,’ continued the girl, ‘he has never said no to me.’ The conviction of the girl astounded Remus.
He thought about the way the mother had couched the word ‘death’ as ‘a place far away’. And he marveled at the girl’s hope that she could bring back a person from there. Maybe, thought Remus, hope was stronger when you were a child, uncorrupted by the realities of daily life?
‘You can join us at our table,’ offered the girl.
‘Thanks, love! But, no. I wish to be alone.’ Remus felt he was brushing off the tentative hand of friendship that the girl was offering, but he couldn’t help it. He did want to avoid people.
To tone down his refusal he tentatively said, ‘I think it is wonderful of you to stop and chat with a lonely person who has lost all his friends.’
The girl smiled at him and said, ‘My dad says that people do not leave you till they leave your heart.’
These words sent a jolt of electricity down Remus’s body. He suspected that somewhere in his heart, he believed that Sirius was innocent and that he would never betray his friends.
Is that why I am still thinking of Sirius in the ‘friends’ context? Was there something more to Sirius’s betrayal than met the eye, he pondered.
He was sure that the girl’s father had meant it in a different sense. But for him the context of the words seemed to apply to his present situation.
‘Mister!’ the girl tugged on Remus’s sleeve. ‘Are you ok?’
Remus realized that he had gone pale with shock and given the girl a fright.
‘I am fine, love,’ he smiled warmly. ‘You have given me a lot to think about.’
‘Here!’ said the girl, unhooking a small rosette with a picture of Rudolph, from her coat. 'This will cheer you up! Just press the nose,’ she said, suiting action to her words.
The reindeer started squeaking Christmas greetings and wishes of peace, hope and joy.
‘Honey!’ interrupted a voice. ‘What are you doing here?’
Seeing Remus in conversation with his daughter, the father asked, ‘I say, Sir! I hope she is not disturbing you. She is a real chatter-box!’
‘Not at all, sir!’ replied Remus getting to his feet. ‘In fact, she has cheered me up and given me the best Christmas gift possible!’ The father looked puzzled at the rosette in Remus’s hand.
‘No,’ Remus said, waving the rosette away, ‘Hope! She has given me hope! She is an angel!’
The father looked at Remus as if he ought to recognize him. To avoid the same, Remus bent down and thanked the girl.
With cheery goodbyes, the father and daughter turned away and began walking back to their table.
The father suddenly stood still and took his daughter’s face in his hands and examined it thoroughly.
‘What happened, Dad?’ enquired the girl anxiously.
‘Are you my daughter?’ questioned the father, with a mock-serious face. ‘He called you an angel!’
‘Dad!’ chided the girl with a grin that lit up her face. She linked her arm with her father and skipped back to their table.
Remus watched the easy camaraderie the father and daughter shared and sighed wistfully. What would I not do for such closeness to another soul!
He turned back to his drink in a contemplative mood, thinking over this evening.
He had started out thinking the vilest thoughts about Sirius.
He knew that it was easier to forgive an enemy than a friend who stabbed you in the back.
He knew that it was easier to accept the death of loved ones. After all, they were in a war then, and fully aware of the danger around them.
What was most difficult for Remus to accept was a friend’s betrayal; a brother who sold you to the enemy.
It was this very betrayal that had driven all hope out of Remus’s life. But suddenly, he felt a new surge of energy.
He questioned himself. What if we had been wrong? What actually happened that day? Was Sirius framed for a crime he did not commit?
The capacity for hope is the most significant fact of life. It provides human beings with a sense of destination and the energy to get started*, Remus thought.
He drank with renewed vigour. He was not drowning his sorrows now. He was a man on a mission.
Remus decided to stay over at the Leaky Cauldron and took a room for the night. He toyed with the rosette in his hand as he prepared to sleep. It was quite run down by now, but still squeaked out the odd greeting or two when pressed.
In his state of inebriation, he couldn’t recollect much of the actual conversation he had held with the person who had gifted him the rosette, or the presenter herself. All he recollected were the antlers and a ridiculous nose. He also knew that the words she had uttered had come from her heart and had filled his life with renewed energy and direction, though he couldn’t recall the exact words.
He understood the true magic of Christmas then - the joy of brightening other lives and supplanting empty hearts and lives with generous gifts**. He learnt it from who should certainly be, a Heaven-sent girl.
‘Angel of Hope!’ whispered a voice in his ear.
Remus smiled.

* * *

Key:
* Quotation 1: The capacity for hope is the most significant fact of life. It provides human beings with a sense of destination and the energy to get started. - Norman Cousins
* *Quotation 2: The joy of brightening other lives, bearing each others' burdens, easing other's loads and supplanting empty hearts and lives with generous gifts becomes for us the magic of Christmas. -W. C. Jones

Angel of Courage

Remus was weary as he Apparated to the gates of Hogwarts. He felt that the world weighed heavily on his shoulders just then.

Though he had a meeting with Dumbledore on matters of some considerable importance, he quite looked forward to visiting his old haunts. Hence, as he entered the gates and looked around the grounds, a strange peace seemed to settle on him.

This was the only place where I was truly happy. Where, I thought the world was perfect.
Where, I ruled as a prince...

Remus felt that he was not far wrong in his thoughts as Hogwarts was indeed an Utopian dream for him. Hogwarts was where he was fully accepted and grew confident with his powers and learnt to perfect them. Where, he was looked up to by the majority of his peers. And where, he and his friends ruled as Princes.

Thinking about those perfect years, Remus sighed. It was a perfect world that shattered for him the moment he stepped out into the real world. The wizarding world did not take kindly to Lycanthropes and Remus, despite his good grades and skill, was no exception.

That not everybody shared the unbiased view of Dumbledore was evident to Remus after he graduated from Hogwarts. Unable to get steady employment, he drifted from job to job with a sense of defeat.

What stood him in good stead was his gift of languages. He had traveled all over Europe, putting this skill to use and helping tackle problems with dark creatures. To him, it seemed like a strange twist of Fate as he himself was one.

But Remus was not one to dwell on the irony of the situation. He enjoyed the travel and the money it brought, though it was not steady employment. It was precisely during these travels that he came across something disturbing, thus his present meeting with Dumbledore to discuss the same.

As he approached the doors, he could see students coming out in small groups towards the gates.

Uh-Oh! Hogsmeade weekend! Remus sighed in irritation. He was planning to get some Firewhisky or mead at Hogsmeade, after his meeting with Dumbledore. Now, it would be over-run with the kids. Still, it would be interesting to see this generation of students, thought Remus.

Closer to the Entrance Hall, he could see some younger students forming a queue for their visit to Hogsmeade.

Should be third-years. Is this their first visit? It was near the start of term. Remus chuckled thinking about the first Hogsmeade visit by the Marauders. It happened in their second year.

Why wait till the third? Of course Padfoot and Prongs were the first to ponder this question, which lead us to seek alternate routes and means of visiting Hogsmeade. Which lead to the discovery of the Hump-backed witch and the route to Honeydukes and a lot of escapades…

‘- and you will not bring back the following products from Hogsmeade.’ Remus was shaken from his musings by a loud voice close at hand. He realized that he was near the third-year line, and it could be none else than Filch, making life miserable for them.

‘You!’ Filch turned on a third-year who was playing with something small and fluttering. ‘What is that dangerous object you have in your hand?’ He snatched away the object which turned out to be a miniature model of the Golden Snitch, down to the fluttery wings.

‘Aha! Something full of dark magic! You were smuggling it into the school.’

‘No, Mr. Filch!’ protested the boy. ‘First of all, it is only a Snitch. Secondly, I am on my way to Hogsmeade. So, you are wrong on both counts,’ the boy finished coolly, much to the amusement of his fellow third-years.

Remus chuckled to himself. Something about the boy’s demeanor reminded him of Prongs. Not to forget the obsession with Snitches.

But Filch did not seem swayed by the logical reasoning of the third-year boy. It was evident that all he saw was an impudent boy and such behaviour should be punished. ‘Aha! What insolence! This will not go unpunished. Wait till I …’

The audience never knew what the threat was as Filch never got to finish his sentence, courtesy Remus.

Knowing that the boy was in trouble, Remus did what any self-respecting Marauder would do.

‘Snitchywasi!’*

The tiny Snitch attempted to shoot up Filch’s nose, an impossible feat despite the size of his nose.

Filch started jumping about trying to swat the Snitch away. ‘Begone! Begone!’ he screamed.

Remus nodded to a Prefect who was standing nearby, a tall red-haired boy with long hair and a single ear-ring*. ‘I think he wants you to go.’

The Prefect had been observing Remus’s little trick - probably the only one in the whole crowd - grinned at Remus and mouthed Wicked! He then proceeded to herd the third-year line to Hogsmeade.

‘Ah, my good man!’ Remus greeted, as if accosting the caretaker with a lot of concern. ‘You seem to be in trouble. Can I help you?’

Remus casually removed the Snitch with a wave of his hand and sent it flying over to its owner who was walking reluctantly to Hogsmeade, looking back at them anxiously time and again. A distant whoop of joy assured Remus that the Snitch was in good hands.

‘Oh! It was only a Snitch, that too a toy one. It has now flown away.’ Remus casually observed, hoping that the boy would have the good sense not to exhibit the same in front of Filch.

‘Thank you, sir,’ said Filch. ‘You are -?’

‘Late for an appointment with the Headmaster. Good day!’ Remus swept up the stairs to the Entrance Hall, smiling at his escapade, Filch’s stutters of thanks and confusion receding in the background.

Almost like old times! Remus was feeling upbeat as he stepped into the Entrance Hall, only to be cut down to earth, his Filch-induced euphoria crashing into fragments around his feet.

The reason? His old nemesis who seemed to cast a glow on any sunny day or mood – Severus Snape.

Snape was sneering at Remus in his usual way. ‘Lupin! Up to old tricks as usual. I am sure you were responsible for the incident downstairs.’

Remus wondered how Snape could have seen him from where he stood in the Entrance Hall but decided not to let on.

‘What are you talking about, Severus? Is it against rules to help somebody who is suffering? What is it to you anyway, Snape?’

‘Professor! Professor Snape!’ Snape said waspishly. ‘I teach here and am the Head of Slytherin.’

Seeing Remus’s look of incredulity, Snape started sneering. ‘Of course, I am sure you are unemployed as usual. After all, who will employ a half-breed, a filthy animal?’

Let him not rankle me, it is not worth it, Remus kept muttering to himself. But Snape’s words were like rubbing salt into Remus’s wounds, as he was already dejected by the lack of steady employment and the treatment meted out to him.

Remus’s silence only egged Snape on. ‘Why are you silent? What happened to your Gryffindor courage? It is evident that you are a coward who can’t even stand up to being insulted!’

Remus was shocked by these words, but did not respond. Am I a coward? Why do his words hurt me so much?

Remus kept quiet, contemplating his stance. He knew that he could not afford to lose his temper. Snape, however, mistook the silence for submission and continued his tirade.

‘Of course, you don’t have the support of your buddies who always defend you. Let me see - two are dead and the third is in Azkaban for causing their deaths. What fine friends!’

Remus boiled up at the mention of his friends and whipped out his wand in an instant, preparing to hex Snape.

‘That’s enough, Severus! Remus is my guest here. Let it not be said that Hogwarts treats its guests disrespectfully.’ Albus Dumbledore cut Snape down subtly as he exited the Great Hall along with other Faculty members.

He greeted Remus warmly and shook his hand. Remus was grateful for this welcoming gesture when he was smothered by another welcome.

There was a cry of ‘Remus!’ Remus turned his head to see Minerva McGonagall, his former Head of House, bearing down on him, smiling in delight. He least doubted whether Snape’s behaviour spurred this cordiality for he knew that he had always been one of her favourites.

‘Professor! How good to see you!’ Remus shook McGonagall’s hands, basking in the warmth of her cordiality after Snape’s coldness.

There were some more Faculty members exiting the Great Hall, and those who knew Remus well and held him in favour hurried to him.

‘No hugs for me, Remus?’ queried Madam Pomfrey, coming up to the little group. She had been privy to many of the tribulations that shaped Remus in his school years.

‘Madam Pomfrey!’ cried Remus, giving her a warm hug. ‘My ministering angel! How is your ‘little’ hobby?’ Remus was one of the few people who knew about her passion for painting to while away the time in the hospital ward.

‘Trust you to remember! But then you were always a considerate one, unlike certain others,’ said Madam Pomfrey. Remus was unsure if she had grimaced at Snape and thought he had imagined it.

Remus was always thinking of ways to repay the care that Madam Pomfrey took of him after his transformations. He would surprise her with some everlasting flowers or look up references that she might be interested in with regard to Healing or painting. Though she did not expect anything in return for the care she took, she was touched by the thoughtful ways of the quiet schoolboy.

Soon, he was accosted by Professors Flitwick and Sprout, who enquired about Remus cordially. Hagrid stopped by and crushed him in a bear-hug that had Remus gasping for breath.

‘Stop, Hagrid!’ chided McGonagall. ‘You are suffocating him.’ She continued after Hagrid took leave, ‘You must join us at The Three Broomsticks later, Remus. We need to catch up! By the way, it’s Minerva.’

Snape looked put out at the cordial reception and invitation that his colleagues accorded Remus.With a curt bow to Dumbledore, he left for Hogsmeade.

Remus took leave of his former Professors and Madam Pomfrey after promising to meet them later and followed Dumbledore to his office.

At the words ‘Acid Pops’, the Gargoyle leapt aside providing access to the stair-case beyond.

‘Still on the sweets binge, Professor?’ said Remus in a lighter vein.

‘Definitely!’ said Dumbledore, his twinkle cranked up to high luminosity. ‘And please call me Albus.’

‘Thank you, Prof - er - Albus!’ Remus stammered, taken aback at the Headmaster’s words. ‘I’ll be up with you in a moment - I have to greet someone here.’

Dumbledore gave a knowing smile and went up the stairs.

Remus turned to an old friend. ‘Hello, Arkksss!’

‘Oh no! Don’t tell me that you are in trouble again!’ shot back his old friend, the Gargoyle.

Remus smiled happily at his friend, nick-named ‘Snarkky’ by him. They had had interesting encounters in the past, but that is a tale for another day*.

‘I came across your relative at the Notre Dame in Paris*. I think he is called Phirskksss? I couldn’t talk to him for long without attracting undue attention from some Muggles.’

‘That’s our Grand Stonehead. It is a term denoting a patriarch in our community,’ said Arkksss. What could at best be described as a grin lit up the stony face of the Gargoyle. ‘But we generally call him ‘Ol’ Pisspot’. Always on and on about dignity and decorum. And what does he do? Have pigeons relieve themselves on him!’

Remus and his friend sniggered together.

‘I guess you have important matters to discuss, Remus. Thank you for stopping over.’

‘The pleasure was mine, Snarkky! Hope to be back soon!’

‘And just when I was enjoying some peace and quite!’ grumbled the Gargoyle good-naturedly.

Remus smiled and entered the Headmaster’s office. It seemed the same, except for some additional instruments that twinkled and fumed.

Fawkes flew down from his perch and sat on Remus’s shoulder, nipping his ear affectionately and trilling softly. Remus made soft cooing noises as he lifted the phoenix off his shoulder and settled him on his lap.

Dumbledore shook his head in wonder at this interaction. Remus never ceased to amaze him with his capacity for getting along with all creatures.

‘How are you, son?’ The words were softly spoken but Remus felt that he was in the embrace of a concerned father.

Emotions from years of being taunted and relegated to scum broke free and rose to the surface as he recounted to Dumbledore his travels over the continent drifting from job-to-job.

‘I first visited the last of Europe’s Ancient Forests where I had the opportunity of meeting a variety of magical beings, Sapient and Sentient. Then I traveled through France to Germany, Italy, Greece, Romania, Austria and back to Germany. Wherever I traveled, it was always through forests and I also visited well-known places of magic. It is something that I learnt on these travels that troubled me and I thought that I should share it with you.’

‘By the distress evident in your mail and in your voice now, I am sure that this has something to do with Voldemort, right?’ queried Dumbledore.

Remus was amazed at the perceptiveness of Dumbledore. ‘You are right, Albus. You know that I have always got on with all creatures, maybe because I am one,’ Remus said, smiling deprecatingly.

‘Now, Remus, I know that there was no call for Severus to taunt you so much, but I am digressing. Please continue.’

‘I came across a variety of magical beings across Europe, even some Fauns and Sileni* which are pretty rare, and it was interesting to meet them all. First, you must understand that there is an unusual harmony among creatures in these forests. Of course there are natural enemies that attack one another, but generally, all beings live in harmony.’

Remus continued, refusing Dumbledore’s offer of tea or (shudder!) Lemon Sherbets. ‘But, it seemed to me that these creatures were not exactly comfortable. In fact, they seemed wary of one another. After a point in time, I was able to trace a pattern wherever I visited. The senior members usually gather together in closed circles and discuss some serious matters. Strangers are distrusted. Other creatures with whom they once used to mingle freely are not allowed close to their habitat.’

‘At first I thought that it was a distrust of me, as they can sense that I am a werewolf. I later realized that there were events happening in the forests that alarmed them.’

Seeing Dumbledore’s expectant look Remus stated, ‘There were talks of a Dark Shadow* possessing small creatures. And always a mention of the same word. Parseltongue!’

Dumbledore softly exhaled the breath that he had been holding, and all of a sudden, he seemed to have aged considerably.

‘Could it be…?’ Remus felt hesitant to even mention the name.

‘Highly probable. I have been waiting for some report or the other on Voldemort,’ replied Dumbledore, looking thoughtfully through the window.

‘But, I thought that he was vanquished that Halloween night by Ha..Harry?’ Remus felt emotional mentioning Harry’s name as he re-lived the losses of that night.

‘A man like Voldemort would have taken safe-guards to ensure immortality, at least, to ensure that his soul survived. That’s why I have been waiting for some indication about him,’ said Dumbledore.

‘You mean like a Horcrux or a Soul Siphon*?’ Remus asked.

‘What do you know about Horcruxes?’ Dumbledore asked, seemingly taken aback at Remus’s knowledge of such things.

Remus knew that it was highly restricted Dark magic and felt guilty of the knowledge. Still, he owned up truthfully to Dumbledore. ‘I was looking up some books on Blood Pacts. Just a Marauders’ quest for immortality and to-getherness. But there was so much of evilness in most of them.’

‘And where did you come across this information?’ queried Dumbledore intrigued, as most books pertaining to that subject were banned in the Hogwarts Library.

‘From the Black Library. Sirius Black.’ Remus shuddered at the mention of Sirius’s name. It was all right to talk about Padfoot and the Marauders, but mentioning the name of Sirius seemed to sent shivers down Remus’s spine.

‘Albus?’ Remus enquired hesitantly. ‘Do you think Sirius is guilty?’

Albus remained silent for the moment. ‘I am unsure. But Sirius has not been exactly forthcoming, though it’s a pity that Crouch sentenced him without a trial. Whatever it is, I can’t understand the massacre of Peter and the Muggles.’

Remus looked into the fire and quoted as if in a trance, ‘When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth*.’


‘Hmm?’ asked Dumbledore.

‘A famous quote from a Muggle book. I thought that Peter was the key to unraveling the truth, because, whatever way I look at it, I cannot explain Peter,’ replied Remus.

‘Unless we get some more concrete evidence, we can only live in surmise. Maybe this latest development will throw some light,’ replied Dumbledore, steering the conversation expertly to the matter under discussion.

Remus tried to re-collect where their conversation had let off earlier. In the back of his mind was a niggling doubt as to whether he should inform Albus about the illegal Animagi that his friends had become. What purpose will it serve now?

‘Do you think that it is the spirit of Voldemort that is haunting these forests?’ Remus asked apprehensively.

‘We cannot say no. This needs looking into. Is there any particular area that needs to be scrutinized?’ asked Dumbledore.

‘Most trails lead to the Black Forest*,’ replied Remus. ‘I would have further examined the matter, but I have to be in India next week. I am meeting with an ancient Indian Wizard who lives in the Himalayas. I met him in a New Moon Affirmation ceremony* in France. I have just come back home to meet you and to settle some personal affairs.’

‘I will send a trusted person to scout that area. Hagrid is too conspicuous - maybe Severus,’ said Dumbledore.

‘But...’ Remus began agitatedly, ‘Albus, he’s a Death Eater. I will not question your choice in appointing him here, but to send him after Voldemort?’ Bad enough to have the Marauders’ enemy lording it over in the School.

‘Remus! I know you well enough, so I am entrusting you with this information. Severus is a Death Eater, agreed. But, he has been working as a spy for me for the past few years. And before you ask, he has given me irrefutable proof of his loyalty to me. He has my full trust - I trust him with my life.’

Remus suddenly felt as if a thousand icy worms wriggled through his veins and he shivered. He knew that he would be able to recall this exact feeling in later years.

Dumbledore saw that Remus was uncomfortable and tried to put him at ease. ‘Son, Severus may not be a very congenial person, but he is on the side of the Light and has repented his past. However, I do agree that he still refuses to let go of some Schoolboy grudges.’

Dumbledore continued. ‘Don’t let anyone put you down, Remus. I know that you choose your path everyday. You choose to walk in the Path of the Light. And believe me, that takes enormous courage.’

*

Much later, after finalizing plans with Dumbledore, Remus left for Hogsmeade. It was decided that Severus would visit the Black Forest environs to scout around, failing which, Remus would visit the place on his return from India.

As he walked, Remus contemplated the events of the morning.

On the forefront of his mind was the discussion with Dumbledore on what could possibly be Voldemort’s whereabouts. Did Albus believe a Horcrux was created? That was certainly one way to immortality but at a terrible cost, as he recalled from the time spent pouring over books in The Black Library. Surprisingly, the only Black offspring that was interested in those tomes was Regulus and not Sirius. Remus grimaced. Now, Regulus was a regular Black and a regular Slytherin.

Unwittingly, another Slytherin came to mind and the taunts that he threw his way.

What really got to Remus was the fact that Snape was now well-ensconced at Hogwarts. By now, he had developed a wall of indifference as an armor to protect himself from comments such as Snape made. But something about those barbs struck home and made Remus cringe.

In what way am I inferior to him? I made top of class in NEWTS whereas he topped only in Potions. Now he is teaching in Hogwarts, a Death Eater! What did he do to earn Dumbledore’s trust?

The Faculty’s warm welcome had given Remus some confidence in himself, only to be shattered by the doubts that assailed him as he walked to Hogsmeade.

Remus was most devastated about Snape’s comments about his friends. It was the most vicious barb yet, as it was undeniably true.

What a lousy Prefect I made, thought Remus. Dumbledore had always said that it took a greater deal of courage to stand up to one’s friends than one’s enemies. Maybe, if I had stood up to the other Marauders more, many deaths could have been avoided.

And as Remus entered Hogsmeade, he questioned himself on the so called ‘Gryffindor Courage’ as he suddenly felt that he was a coward to let even Severus’s words get to him.

He was broken out of his musings by a blur of black that crossed the periphery of his vision and seemed to launch at an immovable wall. Remus turned his head to watch the development and intrigued by what he saw, moved towards the source of the fracas.

He saw that there were three near-behemoths, apparently Slytherins by their robes, tossing what looked like an orange fur ball* between them and a girl half their size pummeling them with her fists trying to snatch the fur ball from them. And of course, that the girl’s robes were distinctly Gryffindor.

‘Brutes! Beasts! Give me that kitten!’ cried the girl, kicking and scratching the Slytherins. The boys laughed and one of them tossed the fur ball high into the air and cast a stupefying charm on it and another to suspend it in the air. The kitten now looked as if a ball of orange wool was drifting in the breeze.

Remus took in the scene as he approached the group and quickened his pace as he saw one of the boys push the girl away roughly and another with a drawn wand, poised to hex the girl.

‘Oh no, you’d better not! Lower your wands and step away from the girl immediately!’ commanded Remus in a steely voice.

‘What the-’ said a near-behemoth. He was cut off in his blustering by some wandless magic from Remus who cast a Petrificus Totalus on the three of them.

He stooped slightly and asked the girl if she was all right.

The girl looked taken aback by her frozen tormentors. Her eyes growing round and with a wrinkling of her forehead she squinted up at Remus and asked him, ‘They have been put in a body-binding curse. Will I get blamed?’

Remus laughed as he saw hope and not apprehension in the girl’s eyes. Smiling, he replied, ‘You can always say that a stranger did that.’

‘Cool!’ exclaimed the girl with a grin. ‘Oh, thanks by the way!’ the girl suddenly said, seeming to remember her manners. She then caught sight of the floating fluff ball and yelled, ‘Growltiger!’

‘Growltiger?’ queried Remus, releasing the kitten from its frozen state and examining it. He noticed the striped orange fur, the slight bandy legs, a chewed ear and one bruised eye and exclaimed, ‘Oh! Growltiger*!’

Remus then proceeded to clean up the kitten quoting softly under his breath, *
“His manner and appearance did not calculate to please;
His coat was torn and seedy, he was baggy at the knees;
One ear was somewhat missing, no need to tell you why,
And he scowled upon a hostile world from one forbidding eye.�

‘I actually like Mr. Mistoffelees* but Growltiger seemed to suit him,’ said the girl, pointing to the kitten. Remus smiled at the way the girl was chatting up a stranger, discussing literary interests nonchalantly, despite the fracas minutes back.

‘There!’ said Remus, handing over the kitten to the girl. ‘I think that you should show him to your Care of Magical Creatures Teacher.’ Remus did not voice his suspicion that he suspected the kitten to have some Kneazle in him.

‘So, why were the bullies after your pet?’ queried Remus.

‘This is not my pet. I saw it wandering on the edge of Hogsmeade and wanted to feed him, so I sent my friend to buy him a Chocolate Frog. But these bullies came by and started tormenting him.’

‘Chocolate Frog?’ queried Remus, zeroing in on what seemed out of place in the statement.

‘I thought that he would feel happy. I feel happy when I eat chocolate.’

A girl after my own heart, thought Remus. ‘Would you like to keep him as a pet now?’ he queried.

‘I can’t keep pets,’ wailed the girl. ‘My mother says that it is too dangerous!’

‘I am sure this kitten is not dangerous,’ said Remus.

‘My mother says that I am dangerous for pets,’ said the girl, looking embarrassed to own up. ‘I am too clumsy.’

Seeing the girl’s embarrassment, Remus sought to put her at ease. ‘I am sure you make up for it with bravery. How many Wizards or Witches your age, do you think, would fight for Growltiger against these bullies? You are a courageous girl!’

‘Really?’ said the girl, her eyes shining with delight.

‘Yes,’ Remus said truthfully. ‘Never let anyone undermine the courage that you have. Wizardkind needs more people like you to fight for the rights of the under-privileged.’

‘Thank you!’ said the girl, her face radiant at these words of praise. Remus least realized the influence these words were to have on that girl’s life.

They were interrupted from further conversation by the arrival of a boy who resembled a boiled lobster* from head to toe, clutching a couple of Chocolate Frogs in his hands.

‘Sorry! Honeydukes was crowded,’ the boy said panting for breath. ‘Whoa! What happened?’ said the boy, pointing to the immobile bullies. As the girl quickly explained what had happened, the boy looked at Remus and exclaimed, ‘That’s bloody brilliant!’

Remus smiled and looked around. Though they were on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, he suddenly became aware of a small crowd gathering around them. He saw a boy in Slytherin robes return to the scene with his Head of House in tow – Snape.

‘Uh-oh!’ said the girl’s friend. ‘Snape’s here!’

‘What’s the meaning of this? Who did this…You?’ Snape cut short his enquiry on seeing Remus.

‘Well, Snape, I did what any Wizard would have done in the circumstances,’ said Remus nonchalantly, hoping that Snape will take the bait.

‘Preying on innocent schoolchildren?’ snapped Snape.

With a triumphant gleam, Remus moved in for the kill. ‘Precisely! They were hurting this kitten and they hit out at this girl who had come to the rescue and were preparing to hex her. So, don’t you think I should stop bullies from preying on the innocents?’

Snape knew that he was cornered as he heard his own accusations being flung back at him. Remus was enjoying Snape’s discomfort but he also thought that it was time to release the bullies from the spell and did so with a silent incantation.

The bullies thought that they could bluster their way through the situation. They had apparently got away with bullying before as their Head of House seemed to turn a blind eye to their activities. All three of them started talking simultaneously.

‘- Professor Snape-‘

‘- this man-’

‘-this girl-’

Remus cast a wandless Silencio on the trio and turned to Snape, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

‘There are plenty of witnesses to their act of brutality. What are you going to do? Condone this behavior? I am sure they are exemplary, outstanding representatives of the House of Slytherin, if all that Slytherins are taught is to prey on the weak and innocent. I am sure that is how they show their bravery.’

‘Or,’ continued Remus, with a steely, forbidding look in his eyes, ‘you can take me on if you think that your students are innocent.’ Remus carelessly twirled his wand and whistled softly.

Snape came out of his shock as he did not expect to be pinned down so publicly. ‘Krank! Purvis! Slough! Report to my office immediately! I will not have Slytherins disgracing themselves in public.’

The three bullies walked back to the school shame-facedly.

Remus said in a clear voice, ‘I will be letting Albus and Minerva know about this. I am sure Minerva will demand some points to be adjusted.’ He deliberately stressed that he was on first-name basis with them.

And as Snape was about to walk past him, Remus called, ‘Oh, Snivellus!’ reverting to the Marauders’ name for Snape. Gesturing to the girl, he said, ‘We Gryffindors have not lost our courage - we merely passed the baton to the next generation.’

Snape’s face darkened and he fixed the girl with a glare. ‘Bloody Blacks and Dark Creatures,’ he muttered and swept away in a billow of robes, leaving Remus puzzled over his words.

‘And I thought bats were nocturnal,’ commented Remus, adeptly covering his puzzlement, and his young friends laughed with relief.

‘I know,’ said the girl, nodding sadly, ‘he’s going to be nastier to me than usual, but I’ll manage. Professor McGonagall will understand.’

‘Don’t worry, my brave warrior, I’ll put in a word for you as I am meeting Minerva now. What is your name?’

‘Er, Dora, fourth year,’ said the girl, seeming reticent to give her full name. The Lobster Boy (as Remus mentally named him) seemed to be looking at the girl with his mouth open.

Remus smiled and said, ‘Well, Dora, what do you plan to do about Growltiger? Maybe, if you do not wish to keep him, you could send him to the Magical Menagerie. Somebody will offer him a home.’

‘Thank you!’ said Dora. ‘We will take Growltiger to the school now.’ She turned to go but stopped suddenly to look up at Remus. ‘Mister, can I offer you a Chocolate Frog?’

‘Sure,’ said Remus smiling. ‘Chocolate makes me happy too!’

With a delighted laugh, the girl offered a Chocolate Frog to Remus and sped off with her friend.

Little did she know that in the future, the orange fur ball she clutched would repay the debt he owed her to another of her blood, or that her whole life would revolve around the stranger who helped her.

Remus felt happy as he walked towards The Three Broomsticks. He munched on the Chocolate Frog and looked at the card. ‘Godric Gryffindor! How appropriate!’ Remus murmured in surprise.

Remus was generally leery of Divination and omens, but somehow the card seemed to signify a portent of things to come. You were never one to run away from life. Face it boldly. You are a true son of Gryffindor!

He thought of physical courage when faced with threats and moral courage when faced with discouragement and realized that he had faced both and triumphed. Do not let the hero in your soul perish*! Remus quoted, from one of his favourite Muggle authors.

Remus was surprised at the turn in events. When he set out to Hogsmeade, he had questioned his bravery whereas now he was declaring himself as a true son of Gryffindor. He realized that the change occurred when he saw a brave warrior taking three bullies head on.

‘Angel of Courage!’ whispered a voice in his ear.

Remus smiled.

* * *

Author’s Notes:

It should be mentioned that Tonks was reluctant to share her name as she did not want any association with the House of Black, or her first name. Minerva would have seemed reticent about the girl ‘Dora’ because of her relationship to Sirius, and thus Remus may not have got to know about the girl fully.

There are some extensive references here and I have listed them in detail. Have you guessed some of the characters?

* Key:
Snitchywasi: I arrived at the word from the components of Waddiwasi as listed in HP-lexicon.org. Strictly non-canon, or Quidditch matches would be a cake-walk, right?

A tall red-haired boy with long hair and a single ear-ring: Guess who?

A tale for another day: Which will get told one of these days.

Notre Dame in Paris: I have based this on photos of the Notre Dame, especially from the Galerie des Chimères. Chimera are similar to Gargoyles, but minus the waterspout.

Fauns and Sileni: Fauns are the Roman Satyrs and Sileni were half-men/half-horse that walked on two legs.

Dark Shadow: This is similar to the premise in GoF, about Voldemort in Albania.

Soul Siphon: Don’t know if this is canon, but it fits the sentence.

‘When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’: One of the well-known quotes of Sherlock Holmes, from the series by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Though variations of this quote on the Art of Detection exist in many of the books, this particular one is quoted from “The Adventure of the Blanched Soldier�. (See Bibliography for details)

Black Forest: When I was younger, I came across a magazine that had photos of Unicorns in the Black Forest. That innocent, gullible me was convinced that it was a magical place.

New Moon Affirmation ceremony: Absolutely no idea what it means but the words sounded nice together in my mind.

Orange fur ball: You should have guessed it right – Crookshanks. The owner of the Magical Menagerie told Hermione that Crookshanks had been around for some time.

Growltiger & Mr.Mistoffelees: Both are well-known characters from ‘Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats’ by T.S.Eliot, though, Mr.Mistoffelees is quite popular as he is a ‘Conjuring Cat’. The lines quoted are from the poem ‘Growltiger’s Last Stand’ in the book. (See Bibliography for details)

Boy who resembled a boiled lobster: Guess who?

Do not let the hero in your soul perish: This is part of a quote from “Atlas Shrugged� by Ayn Rand that seemed appropriate for Remus to muse over:
“Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark, in the hopeless swamps of the approximate, the not-quite, the not-yet, the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish, in lonely frustration for the life you deserved, but have never been able to reach. Check your road and the nature of your battle.

The world you desired can be won. It exists, it is real, it is possible, it is yours.� (See Bibliography for details)


Bibliography:
Eliot,T.S., Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats, Harcourt Trade Publishers (USA), 1982
Doyle, Sir Arthur Conan, The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes, Oxford University Press (USA), 1993
Rand, Ayn, Atlas Shrugged, Signet (USA), 1996