CHAPTER XI.

The abilities that his lycanthropy afforded Remus had always struck him as rather impolite. At the full moon, he turned into a vicious beast with an insatiable urge to kill — but that was hardly the impolite part. Terrible, yes, and horrifying, but not impolite. The wolf was too grotesque, too far beyond humanity, to even be adjacent to impolite. The idea that a werewolf might be measured on the human scale of propriety was laughable.

Every other day of the month, however, there was no wolf. There was the uncomfortable stretch of his ligaments, the popping of his joints every time he shifted, the fevers and the chronic pain and the inescapable fatigue — but alongside this came the blessed feeling of being human, so Remus really couldn't complain.

There was also, much to the delight of James, Sirius, and Peter, the wholly impolite ability to hear and smell far beyond the reaches of typical human senses. It provided, among other things, the opportunity to eavesdrop quite effectively.

Which was why, as Remus shuffled quietly along the Potions corridor deep in the bowels of the castle, he kept his head cocked just slightly so as to catch the just barely-there sound of voices carried by the chilly draft. He couldn't make out words, yet, and had a feeling the voices were coming from somewhere deeper in the dungeons. Maybe the Slytherin common room — Remus didn't have the map on him, so he couldn't pinpoint his exact location, but he was pretty sure the Slytherins dormed somewhere nearby.

It was late — nearing eleven, according to his battered old watch — and Remus was on prefect rounds alone. If it were fifth or sixth year, Lily would be with him, but she and James had started doing their rounds together once James had risen to the title of Head Boy, and now Remus was on his own.

It wasn't as though there weren't other Gryffindor prefects — there were four others, two in fifth year and two in sixth — but Remus was content to wander around by himself. He hadn't meant to stray so far, really, but the full moon was steadily approaching, and walking was the only thing that made him forget the ache between his eyes, so Remus determinedly kept putting one foot in front of the other, not caring where he ended up.

He'd meant to turn back earlier, though, but here was something he couldn't resist listening in on, mainly because it was already an hour past curfew and whatever gathering Remus was about to happen upon should certainly not be happening.

Slowly, Remus inched closer, straining his ears.

"Did you bring the Veritaserum?" a voice asked. Remus had to purse his lips together to keep from inhaling sharply.

The owner of the voice was male, and clearly making an effort to stop his voice from echoing off the stone walls, but that made no difference to Remus. He took a moment to send a silent prayer of thanks to the werewolf gods for their help with his eavesdropping adventures.

Whoever was speaking was directly on the other side of the stone wall Remus was leaning against. He spied a closed door a little ways away from him, and realised he was standing parallel to the room's occupants, with only a wall in between them.

"Yes," said a second voice, also male, and slightly nasally. Remus bit his cheek, frowning; what was Snape doing here? "Is this enough?"

"Perfect," replied the first voice. Remus registered the dull pop of a seal being broken.

"Remind me why we're questioning a Hufflepuff?" asked Snape, sounding bored.

Remus could barely hear what the first person said to this over the thundering of his heart in his ears, but he managed to catch the last part of the reply.

"— not recruiting him, you tosser. We're using him."

"Did you do a background check on me before recruiting me, too?" Snape asked.

"No one to question about you, was there? We already knew you're a half-blood," sneered a third voice, this one deeper.

Silence. Remus imagined Snape wearing that twisted, angry expression he so often did when James and Sirius picked on him.

"So who, exactly, is the subject of this interrogation?" Snape finally asked. "If not him."

"Give him some of this, Mulciber," said the first voice, who Remus assumed must be Avery. "Don't wake him up yet." Remus heard the shuffling of feet and the clink of a bottle against teeth. "He went to Sluggy's Christmas party with Bancroft."

"Zelda Bancroft?" Snape asked, as Remus clapped a hand over his mouth to keep from gasping. "She only associates with Slytherins."

"Not exclusively," said Avery. "You know the Dark Lord's policy, Snape."

"Question any member of another house who the potential recruit has associated with, yes," drawled Snape.

Mind reeling, Remus barely registered the next few bits of conversation as he tried to catch his breath. He felt winded, like he'd just run a mile; slowly, he slipped his hand into the pocket of his cloak and clenched it around his wand.

If Remus's memory served him right, it was Graham Carter who the three boys had rendered unconscious and most likely tied up in there. He knew he should stop this — use of Veritaserum without Ministry authorisation was highly illegal. But Remus also knew he couldn't take Avery, Mulciber, and Snape in a duel, so he stayed rooted to the spot and continued to listen.

"All of Bancroft's friends are in Slytherin," Snape said. "She's probably one of those mostly-purebloods whose parents have no connections. The ones who aren't in the Twenty-Eight."

"Still," Avery said. "If she's associating with members of other houses, chances are she might be sympathetic to the enemy's cause. We can't risk handing a potential turncoat over to the Dark Lord."

Remus swallowed. The Dark Lord. That was the second time Avery had used the term in as many minutes. This so-called 'Dark Lord' had been mentioned in the papers, and in passing, enough times for Remus to know that he was the person who was rallying pureblood fanatics to join his anti-Muggle cause. The Wizarding World had been in a stir about it for ages — long enough for it be considered a given, or the sort of thing that 'just happened these days.'

Oh, you know, people would say, just those crazies at it again. They'll give up once they realise no one agrees with them.

Remus exhaled sharply, pressing a sweaty palm to the cold stone wall. He was practically cuddling it at this point, and would most likely appear to an onlooker like a blatant eavesdropper, with his ear against the stones and eyes blinking at nothing.

He adjusted his position, trying to look like he was leaning casually against the nearest pillar (much like Sirius did whilst loitering in the halls), then strained his ears again.

"She's friends with Lucius's sister," Snape pressed. "Nothing particularly suspicious there. Nothing too extraordinary, either. How did the Dark Lord find out about her?"

Remus clenched his jaw. He had seen Zelda's talent in class for himself — had watched her not unlike a hawk during the past seven-odd years, waiting for her to drop her charade and picking up bits and pieces of information about her in the process. Nothing too extraordinary, his arse.

"Not the Dark Lord, he's got better things to do," Avery said impatiently. "Bellatrix. She's practically taken over recruiting these days, you know that. And she's apparently well-versed in the field of Slytherin birds. Says Bancroft's worth checking out, just in case. Anyway — wake him up."

Remus thought back to the headline he'd seen earlier in the month: FOUR MUGGLES KILLED IN MANCHESTER, it had said. PERPETRATOR STILL AT LARGE. The article hadn't named a suspect.

Remus suddenly doubted very much that the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters would give up anytime soon. They'd been growing in numbers, he knew this. He also knew that James and Sirius were always talking about 'the war' as though it was a noble fight they couldn't wait to jump into headfirst come graduation. And, if what Remus was hearing was any indication — if this 'Dark Lord' really was recruiting Hogwarts students to his cause — then there was absolutely going to be a fight.

A sharp slapping sound, then another, made Remus clench his jaw and shuffle slowly along the edge of the pillar, inching back closer to the wall. He didn't care who saw him; he needed to hear this, and possibly go to Dumbledore. (A small part of him wondered if a baseless accusation would mean anything to the headmaster with no evidence. The boy who cried wolf, indeed.)

"Don't forget to test it first," Mulciber said. "Ask him his name."

"You won't need to," said Snape loftily. "The potion is flawless. I should know; I made it last month."

A low whistle. "Before we even covered it in class and everything. . . impressive," said Avery. "Still, he's right." A pause. "What's your name?"

A low groan from a fourth person; Remus registered the voice as coming from lower down than the first three, like this person was sitting down. Then a toneless voice said, "Graham Leonard Carter."

Remus was too stunned to be pleased that he'd been right about who was being interrogated. Graham's voice was monotonous and void of any emotion — like he was a robot from a Muggle movie.

"There, see?" asked Snape, sounding smug. "It works perfectly."

"Good," said Avery's voice.

"What are we even going to ask him?" Snape demanded then. "What does he know about Bancroft anyway? It was only one party."

"Well," Avery persisted, sounding impossibly confident, "whether she's good in the sheets or not, for starters. But Carter was easiest, and the only person she's interacted with recently besides Malfoy and Meadowes."

Remus felt sick. He wanted to leave — he didn't want to find out anything about what Zelda might have done with Graham Carter. But, against his better judgment, Remus kept listening.

"And why is the Veritaserum necessary?" Snape asked. "We've already got him where we want him."

"I thought we'd better take this precaution just in case he decides to exercise some Hufflepuff loyalty," replied Avery. "Look — one of Bancroft's best friends is a half-blood. Her date to Slug's party was a Hufflepuff. Everyone talks about politics these days; I guarantee you she mentioned it to this guy at the party at least once. This is the best way of finding out what she might have said, and if she's worth pursuing for the Dark Lord. . . or if she'll only be a waste of time and a disgrace on our house."

"Fine," Snape said. "Question him, then, if you're so adamant."

"And make sure to ask if Bancroft's curtains match her drapes," sneered Mulciber.

Remus, who had been in the middle of drawing a shaky, silent inhale, suddenly felt his breath catch in his throat as he choked on his own spit; desperately trying to keep quiet, he pressed his lips shut against an oncoming cough, but it was no use. A strangled choking sound escaped his lips, and Remus swallowed, wishing he had some water.

On the other side of the wall, Avery laughed a reply, but Remus didn't hear it — because at that moment, the door to the occupied classroom was wrenched open. Remus barely had the time to dive behind the nearest stone pillar before a voice — this time much closer, echoing through the corridor as footsteps grew ever nearer —

"What are you doing?" Snape's voice asked.

"Just thought I heard. . ." Avery's voice trailed off. "Never mind. We'll keep asking him questions. You stay out here and keep watch."

Snape made a sound like he wanted to protest, but when the door to the classroom closed again, Remus could hear Snape's heartbeat — he was still in the hall. Cursing silently from his spot on the other side of the pillar, Remus drew his wand and tapped the top of his head; a cold sensation trickled down his back, and he knew he was Disillusioned effectively.

Holding his breath and praying Snape wasn't focusing on his side of the corridor, Remus left as quickly as he could, and only exhaled once he was safely on the first floor landing. He leaned against a nearby windowsill and drew his wand, removing the Disillusionment Charm with a quick glance up and down the wide corridors on either side of the landing.

Settling on the windowsill, Remus pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes. His head was spinning with the information he'd just heard.

The Death Eaters were recruiting, then, and they seemed to be picking their crop from the Slytherin upper years. This part was hardly surprising — Bellatrix, Sirius's cousin (who, if Remus had heard right, seemed to be in charge of the recruiting of Hogwarts students to the Death Eaters' ranks), had graduated Hogwarts herself only two years before. So had Lucius Malfoy, who had definitely come up in the conversation Remus had heard.

He blew out another breath.

The subject — both literally and figuratively — of the conversation was what worried Remus the most. Snape, Avery, and Mulciber were actively interrogating another student. Remus really should go get a teacher, he realised, but a glance at his watch told him it was well past the time all the teachers would be in bed.

Still, the fact remained that if Snape's Veritaserum truly had been effective, then Graham would surely disclose the details of the conversation he'd had with Zelda the night of Slughorn's Christmas party, and then Zelda's secret would be out — and to the very last people who were supposed to know, no less.

Remus understood, then, with a conviction he hadn't thought himself capable of, what he had to do — and it didn't involve going to a teacher.

It involved going to Zelda.

━━

Luckily for Remus, the Marauder's Map had finally been finished as sixth year had drawn to a close, and so he found himself up late in the night trying to find Zelda's name in the dungeons.

The Map was propped up against a pillow, and Remus lay on his stomach atop his duvet, half-dressed and exhausted with his lit wand held between his teeth. He scanned the entire dungeon floor, squinting against the light.

Soft snores from the rest of the dormitory told Remus his friends were asleep on the other side of his closed bed curtains, no doubt sequestered behind their own drapes as well. He had no chance of being caught this late into the night — but even so, Remus was hardly the first of them to use the Marauder's Map to stalk a girl.

And it wasn't stalking, he reasoned, if it was for a good cause. In this case, the cause was trying to figure out how to get an owl to Zelda if her dormitory was underneath the castle.

He knew that a portion of the Slytherin common room (and several of its dormitories) had windows that looked out onto the grounds instead of into the Black Lake. Despite this, Remus didn't want to take the risk that an owl might not be able to find Zelda's specific dormitory, or that one of her roommates might open his letter first.

(That, and he didn't feel like making a trip to the Owlery this close to the full moon.)

Finally, as he inspected the Slytherin girls' dormitories for the hundredth time and sifted through names he'd never heard before, Remus spotted a little black dot underneath the words Zelda Bancroft. She appeared to be in bed, which made sense, seeing as Remus had stayed out far longer than was necessary for a prefect making the rounds.

He sighed, and sat up slowly, wincing at the creak in his joints and unpleasant popping in his spine. Poking his head out of his bed drapings, Remus took his wand from between his teeth and summoned a bit of spare parchment and a Self-Inking Quill (no matter how hard he tried, the ink in a regular old black biro just didn't show up on parchment).

An owl wouldn't work, he knew this. The Slytherin dormitories were a mystery — but Remus had listened to too many of his father's stories about the Ministry to think that owl post was the only method of getting in contact with one's fellow wizards.

Frowning, Remus balanced the piece of parchment on his knee and scribbled a quick note:

Zelda,
Meet me behind the tapestry we used as a hiding place at half twelve tomorrow. You know the one.
RL

That was alright, he reasoned. She would hopefully know what the initials stood for, while anyone else might have trouble, as Slytherins rarely paid attention to him (with the exception of Snape and the gang he hung around).

Now he just had to hope she would come.

━━

UK SLANG:
biro — ballpoint pen