Chapter Text
The bed was small, too small. Faint memories reverberated through her mind, of her childhood until now. They were swallowed, taken in and sorted by his memories, by his knowledge.
Her head ached as she opened jade eyes, looking about the cupboard. His soul ached as its magic sorted his mind, reordering things and controlling the amalgamation of Dorea and Salazar.
She blinked, and then stretched. How odd, she awoke from her reborn slumber as a child. How old was she, 8? Not even in the double digits. It was unheard of, but Salazar didn't care. No, she had far more enraging things to take care of now.
Her relatives. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, and little Dudley. The boy she could forgive, as he clearly didn't have the mental capacities to know any better than what his parents taught him. If he didn’t learn from her teachings, then he would pay. But the parents, their crimes were far too atrocious to let slide.
Salazar hummed under her breath, pondering about what to do with this situation, in particular, how to handle it without drawing attention to herself. She closed her eyes, drawing herself into her mindscape.
It was the same as it had been all those years ago, but different at the same time. A simply cabin along a forest, with a garden and orchard surrounding. What was unseen to any strangers was that the forest was filled to the brim with her own defenses, and the cabin was simply a distraction. Salazar paused and studied it for a moment longer, remembering her days as a boy running from her family and hiding in that cabin, and then grinned.
The single best way to handle this, given the circumstances of her Awakening, was to create another Dorea for the mindscape. A split-personality, as the mundanes had described it, one that could take the cabin and distractions while she kept her true mind hidden inside her fortress of trees.
The split personality was exactly as Salazar saw Dorea. Small, underfed, pale, and shy. All of the personality of Dorea, that Salazar could put together from her memories of this life, were pushed into the creation with exact precision. Salazar and Dorea smiled at each other, exact imitations of each other.
You’re gonna keep us safe from now on? Dorea asked. Salazar nodded.
“But carefully, little one. Your face will be the one that is seen.”
And you’ll be the one working in the shadows, Dorea finished, a wicked gleam in her eyes. Salazar laughed, understanding exactly how this would end up working against anyone that dared tried to touch their mind.
“Exactly.”
Petunia Dursley didn’t know how, but everything had gone completely wrong. They were no longer regarded as normal by the neighbourhood, instead seen as odd and cruel - and they dared to accuse her precious Duddy of being a bully ! Clearly they had never seen a real bully, like that blasted Sn-
No. No thinking of that murderous freak, he was the reason her parents were dead. Lily had confirmed it, along with that horrid boy she brought with her.
Petunia sighed and worked on the cake that would be served after this business dinner that she and Vernon were hosting. She paused, watching her freak of a niece work quickly and quietly on the pork. These associates had heard that they had taken in the freak, and wanted to meet her. So of course, that meant that the freak had to look presentable.
New clothes. New glasses - in the very least the freak wasn’t bungling everything around her anymore.
Oh, and giving her an actual room. Couldn't risk these associates finding out about her cupboard, of course not. Dudley hadn't been happy about losing his second bedroom, but she had more than made it up to her precious little boy by having his room completely made over, clean and shiny and new, complete with a bunk bed that he desperately wanted for when Pierres would come over.
Petunia was lost in her musings, working on the torte, and didn’t notice her niece’s cruel smirk.
Salazar had come forward, working on the food. A few spells here and a few spells there, and Petunia Rosalyn Dursley and Vernon Edward Dursley would be completely incapable of eating anything without the taste of blood tinting its flavour. It was a petty start, but as it wouldn't affect herself, Dudley, or any guests, they would suffer alone. They may suspect something from her, as she was certain they knew of her magic, but there would never be anything that they could prove.
The fools never should have given her access to their True Names, and the power that came alongside that.
“That’s enough, g- Dorea.” Petunia was clearly trying to adjust to sounding like a caring aunt. Disgusting. “Go get ready, and fix that hair of yours.” Salazar stood back up, brushing her hands off on her jeans, much to Petunia’s distaste.
“Of course, Aunt Petunia. Do you want me to help with your hair as well?” Polite, courteous. Petunia looked as though she was about to burst a blood vessel.
“Of course not. Now out.” She ordered. Salazar nodded her head and quickly darted upstairs, into her new room.
The illusion that would distract the Dursley family was simple. It made the room appear exactly as she had been given it - covered in broken items, the bed torn apart in places, a broken writing desk and wardrobe. In reality, Salazar had adjusted the room to be fit for someone of her standing, expanded slightly with solid oak furniture, impeccably polished, with a plush emerald rug on the floor. She had a vanity that contained spare makeup that her aunt “lost”, and a walk in wardrobe complete with her Family Trunk in the back.
It had surprised her to find the trunk in the attic one day, but it was buried alongside letters and gifts that were made out to her from a friend of her parents - a Remus Lupin. If Salazar were to guess, they had been entrusted with the family trunk to give to her, but instead chose to hide it in hopes that she would never be magical.
Thankfully, the Potter Family Grimoire was contained within the trunk, so Salazar had little worries that she had to deal with thanks to it.
Salazar quickly got changed into the simple sundress that Petunia had gotten her, with ballet flats that matched. She brushed her hair and began braiding it, taming the curls with her magic in ways that seemed to be forgotten to the world. She laid the braids against her head, wrapping them orderly and gently using her magic to pin it in place. Next was makeup, which Salazar was just as inexperienced with as Dorea was. Some lip gloss was all that was necessary, given that she was only turning 9 soon, but she carefully swiped on some mascara like she had seen girls at school do in order to emphasize her eyes more.
Gorgeous jade eyes, which she had gotten from her grandmother. Salazar smiled at the photo of her grandparents, both sides, that were on her vanity, and the photo of her own parents dancing at their wedding between the other two.
Her heart swelled, knowing that in this life all but her aunt and uncle had loved her so dearly. She had read the journals her mother and father had left behind, and knew that they had loved her so much that they sacrificed their lives for hers. She blinked away the tears before they could overwhelm her, and sauntered over to her writing desk. She had letters to write, to this Remus Lupin, to ask about if he could visit her or not.
Having some contact with the magical world would be excellent.
Remus blinked, staring at the letter in his hand. He had never expected Dorea to write back to him - for 8 years he had gotten no response from her. What could have gotten a response now?
It was delivered the muggle way, as per the return address that he had placed on his last letter. She had written her own address for the return, and that address was all Moony needed to snarl within his own mind.
Privet Drive. The house that Lily had bought for Petunia and her husband to stay safe in.
His hands shook from a combination of fear and anger as he carefully opened the envelope, and unfolded the paper - all muggle. His gut feeling only got worse.
Dear Remus ,
Her handwriting was adorably clumsy, as though she was trying to write cleaner than was physically possible for her right now. She would be 9 soon, so it was entirely possible that that was exactly the problem.
I’m sorry that I never responded earlier. Aunt Petunia
Moony howled wickedly as Remus screwed his eyes shut, rage flowing through him.
Petunia. Tuney. How fucking dare she, if that bitch laid on hand on his cub he would -
He looked back at the letter to distract him from that train of thought. It wouldn't be good to rile Moony up like that.
Aunt Petunia hid the letters you sent me, along with the gifts, in the attic. She also hid mum and dad’s family trunk up there, so I guess she didn’t actually know what it was. She never would have let any of it stay in the house if she knew how “freakish” it all is.
Anyway, that trunk is how I found out about the magical world.
Snarls escaped Remus’ throat, his eyes glowing amber. How fucking dare Petunia do this! That monstrous bitch would pay, daring to disrespect Lily and James like this!
It definitely makes things make more sense, that’s for sure. Especially when I turned batty old Wilson’s hair blue, or when I appeared on top of the school roofs running from bullies.
Apparation! Rage and joy both flooded through him, she apparated at a young age! Brilliant! Marvelous! But bullies, bastards that aed to try and hurt his cub -
Remus put the letter down for a moment, and began to meditate. Moony was too close to the surface, he had to calm himself before he transformed accidentally. It was known to happen, when werewolves felt too in tune with their wolves. It was why Fenrir Greyback was so fearsome, he was so incredibly in tune with his inner wolf that he was able to transform whenever he wished.
Once he was calm, Remus decided it would best to get something to eat before continuing with Dorea’s letter. His heart was pounding, his soul flaring with an aching loneliness. She was his cub, the last of his pack.
He couldn’t lose her too.
The letter, in its entirety, both broke Remus’ hear and warmed it beyond anything he had felt in years. Tears streamed down his face as he read it over again.
Dear Remus ,
I’m sorry that I never responded earlier. Aunt Petunia hid the letters you sent me, along with the gifts, in the attic. She also hid mum and dad’s family trunk up there, so I guess she didn’t actually know what it was. She never would have let any of it stay in the house if she knew how “freakish” it all is.
Anyway, that trunk is how I found out about the magical world. It definitely makes things make more sense, that’s for sure. Especially when I turned batty old Wilson’s hair blue, or when I appeared on top of the school roofs running from bullies. It definitely makes more sense than the wind catching me on a jump.
I guess, since you sent so many letters over the years, that I should at least get to know you some more. I’ll start - I’m gonna be turning 9 soon, so I’m going into Year 5 soon. I’m going to the same public school that my cousin, Dudley, goes to. He’s so fat that he looks like a pig wearing a wig, and acts like it too. My favourite subject in school is mathematics, followed by history. We haven’t learned a ton of history yet, but what we have learned is really interesting so far - our teacher wants us to learn as much as we can before we go off to secondary school, said something about history being the most important subject to learn.
My favourite colour is green, like mum’s eyes. I wish mine were like hers, mine are lighter and aren’t so bright. I found her old notes in the trunk that was left in the attic, and I managed to change my room up from them. Don’t worry, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon don’t have any idea that it’s different, I used some spare hairs from them to tie them into the Ward design thing that mum created. The room is a lot bigger now, and all of Dudley’s broken stuff is long gone. I kept the books, and I really love the Wheel of Time series that one of our classmates got him one year. I’m surprised that Aunt Petunia didn’t throw it out right away. You know, magic and all that is too “freakish” for her tastes, and these books are full of it.
If you can send a letter through the postal system, I can answer it again. Uncle Vernon likes having me collect the mail in the morning while he and Dudley pig out, so I can slip it into my jeans without them noticing.
I hope you write!
Dorea
Remus smiled at the tone, a healthy 9 year old attitude spilling through the writing. Her comments about Petunia and Vernon, and their son Dudley, worried him quite a bit, though. She collects the mail while they eat? She fixed up her room, and made it so they couldn’t see the changes?
Remus growled, not even noticing it.
If Petunia and Vernon dared to lay a hand on his cub, he would eat them, regardless of his promises to his mother.
No one hurt his cub.
Salazar hummed and she perched at her desk, reading her family study notes. It wasn’t the most common thing to do, but many older families retained personal journals and experimentations alongside their Family Grimoire in order to educate future generations on the process taken for certain discoveries.
As it was, the Family Trunk was one such form of study. Her great-great-great grandfather, Perseus Potter, had created the trunk based on the newly developed Expansions Wards that he and his friend had created. He manipulated the wards on the trunk to connect to the Family Magic, and created a location in which his family would be able to experiment and test without worry of someone discovering their work. It was multiple forms of protections, layered overtop of each other in an intricate braid so that, depending on the intentions that a person may have in opening the trunk, it would vary on punishments.
Salazar smirked upon discovering that this trunk was why Petunia had been forced to have false teeth put into her skull; she had tried to open the trunk to destroy the contents, and so the wards responded by damaging her bone structure to be extremely brittle and delicate. In doing so, all it had taken was her grinding her teeth at Salazar for her to break them beyond repair.
But the rooms, the rooms were magnificent. Her grandmother, Dorea Potter née Black, had been a Stitch Witch; someone who utilized textiles for magical effects. As such, she had the trunk create her an entire wing for different experimentations. Looming, knitting, crocheting, dyeing, sewing, seamstressing, tailoring, and that wasn’t even delving into the different types of fabrics that she had! Salazar drooled at the sight, Dorea had always enjoyed the cross stitch and embroidery that Petunia forced her to learn. Working on it meant that Dudley and Vernon would leave her alone, after all.
Her eyes were caught on Wire Gloves, a weapon she apparently used during the Second World War against Grindelwald and Hitler’s army. They had various metals for the wire, such as silver, gold, steel - all perfect for a fighting a variety of being. It fit a Stitch Witch, if Salazar was to be completely honest.
Her great uncle, Fleamont Potter, had been one of Britain's most successful Potions Masters, and had created a variety of potions that brought the Potter family immense wealth. Salazar nearly wept at how gorgeous his potions labs were, she had Water and Air as her elemental alignment and as such Potions had always come far more naturally to her than any other practice. From her mother’s research, she had the same magic alignments as Lily; the woman had been the youngest Charms Mistress in history(shame that she had refused the Potions apprenticeship), and it was for that reason that the marriage between her parents had been approved of by her grandfather, Charlus Potter.
Charlus Potter was an interesting one, Salazar decided. He had been extremely involved in politics and history, becoming an unofficial historian himself. The room he had created in the trunk had been his office, full of rare books and his notes on events and people that he needed to watch for. From what she could tell, her father had never even touched Charlus’ office; out of respect for his father or out of disrespect for his practices, Salazar couldn't tell.
And quite honestly, she didn't care to tell. It made the reads all the more enjoyable knowing that it was like a secret shared between her and Charlus.
Her great grandmother, Lilith Potter, had been a Curse Mistress. Mastery of Dark Arts and Its Cures, was the official title. Her rooms were the most heavily protected, with various labels on the different doors in order to prevent people from entering without taking proper precautions. Bless her rest, she even left lists of precautions to take on every single door. Across from each of Lilith’s doors was her husband’s gardens; Culain Potter had been a Herbologist with an unhealthy obsession with poisons.
Salazar had to admit, it sounded like the two had a lovely, dark relationship. Culain had almost certainly helped Lilith in many aspects of her Mastery; poisons were a specific section of the exams, from Charlus’ notes.
Her great great grandfather, Edmund Potter, had been the last official Battle Mage in European history. Though they still existed in many other cultures, particularly to the east, they were nonexistent in Europe anymore. Battle Mages had been formally replaced with Duelists, and informally replaced with Hit Wizards. As such, Salazar genuinely squealed in delight when she discovered that his rooms were training rooms; and that her parents had had modern gyms machines and tools added in.
The other rooms were for Perseus, the Ward Room and his study; his wife Balwant who had used her rooms for cooking and other domestic skills; and for Edmund’s husband, Francesco, his rooms were dedications to art. Painting, sculpting, pottery; he may not have dived into many different mediums from his own notes, but he had gotten some of everything for future generations to use.
The only rooms that Salazar hadn't entered were Lily and James’. She wanted to wait for Remus’ response, to get to know her parents through their friend before she dared step foot into their territory. She didn't know what may be in store for her there, and she knew that the thought of discovering anything that may make her hate her parents broke her heart.
In contrast to her ancestors, Lily and James had left their most important journals, along with letters to Dorea, in the main room of the trunk. They described how these letters and journals were placed where they were in case they passed away, and detailed the protections that they created on her. Some of their work, such as some basic warding that Lily and James had worked on for school projects, combined with their details on researching methods of protecting her entirely.
They apologized to her. Salazar wiped a tear away at the letter. The sacrifices had to be made to keep her safe, and they didn't want to risk anything hurting their daughter. She would remain perfectly safe in body, mind, soul, and magic. It explained why her body was a perfect fit for her soul, despite being the wrong gender - if the body wasn’t a right fit, it had to change if possible.
That was, after all, what caused the problems with King Arturia and his son, Mordred. Both had souls of men, born in the bodies of women, and at the time of their lives, they hadn’t been able to find a way to permanently fix them into the proper gender.
Salazar sighed and scrolled through Charlus’ notes on her previous era once more. So much information, scattered and lost to all but a few. It broke her heart to know that even her Silver Moon hadn’t been taught to future generations, or that any of their abilities other than her Parseltongue made it into documentation. Rowena had been a Seer and Alchemist, Helga an Elemental Specialist, and Godric was the best damn Battle Mage that Salazar would ever have met. Herself? A Ward Smith, warding was her speciality, even above potions.
So much history lost because of stupid fools.
She hummed as she looked over the sealed letter that Remus sent her in response - she hadn't opened it yet. Truth be told, she was extremely nervous to. As Salazar, and as Dorea, the only good relationship that she had ever had was with Mistress Gwenefrei, the woman that took the four of them in, sacrificed her life to build the school’s wards, and promptly had the school named after her. She honestly didn’t know how to respond to him, to play the role of a child for him.
She was anxious because she knew that she would have to be honest with him, and she was terrified of how he would respond. She had read the history that Charlus had collected, she knew how she was viewed now. She had become the monster that her brother was.
Salazar clenched her fists, tears running down her face. Oh Godric, I should have listened to you, she thought. Sunnifa, Celeste… My girls… I failed you both.
Remus stood in front of the neighbourhood park, twitching nervously. Dorea asked to meet him, in person, and he wasn’t sure what to think. She… Wasn’t anything like what he expected.
She looked nothing like James or Lily, other than her colouring.
Her face wasn’t round, her eyes were a jade colour rather than an emerald, she had the Potter hair, but her face looked far more like her grandmother than James or Charlus. It took a moment for Remus to realise it, but when he did, it hit him like a train.
She looked like her aunt, Sophia Potter. Born thirty years before James, she was sold off to Grindelwald’s forces and murdered by his men. Her grandparents had never fully recovered from what happened to her, and neither had many of their generation. He had seen photos and a portrait of her around Potter Manor when he visited James and Sirius summer before sixth year, and good gods did she resemble her aunt more than anyone else.
Dorea looked up at him and smiled.
“You’re Uncle Remus?” She asked. Remus swallowed and nodded.
“Y-Yeah,” he muttered, crouching so as to see her eye to eye. She was so small… “It’s great to see you again, cub.” Dorea blinked and tilted her head to the side.
“Cub?” Remus silently cursed.
“Sorry, we all had nicknames for you. James called you Bambi, Lily called you Spitfire, I called you cub, a-” he cut himself off. “How are you? Is your aunt treating you alright?” He sniffed. Blood, bruised. Anxiety. He internally snarled at the bruises.
“Do you wanna sit?” She asked. Remus smiled at her.
“That would be nice,” he said. She grabbed his hand and dragged him over to a bench, near some other adults in the area. A few mothers gave him a wandering look.
“Dorea, sweetheart , who is this?” One of the women, a brunette, asked. The glare she sent him sent shivers down his spine. Dorea smiled up at her.
“This is Uncle Remus! Aunt Petunia kept hiding his letters to me, and I found them!” She chirped. The woman looked at Remus oddly. “He grew up with dad, and was friends with him and mum!” Her eyes widened slightly. “Didja know that Aunt Petunia’s been lying? Mummy and daddy were murdered by some serial killer, they weren’t drunks that drove into a bridge!” Remus’ head snapped to Dorea.
“She said what about Lily and James?!” He demanded. Dorea nodded.
“Aunt Petunia doesn’t like mummy, and I don’t know why.” Dorea pouted. “Uncle Remus, why does she not like mummy?” Remus sighed and ran his hands through his hair.
“She was always jealous,” he said softly. “Your mummy was one of the best people I ever knew, and your Aunt Petunia was jealous of her because of it. She said your mummy was the reason your gran and grandad passed in a fire, and never forgave her for that.” The woman’s eyes narrowed, suspicion dancing across her face. Dorea’s pout turned into a frown.
“Then Aunt Petunia’s the freak, not mummy.” She said in tone of finality. Remus smiled sadly and ruffled her hair.
“If you say so, cub.” They were interrupted as some other children dragged Dorea away for a game of tag. The woman’s glare intensified as the children ran away.
“So.” She looked angry. “You claim to have known her parents.” Remus met her eyes and nodded.
“James was my best friend. Lily was a good friend. They didn’t deserve what happened to them.”
“Then what happened? Petunia could never keep the story stable when she would talk about their deaths.”
“They were murdered,” Remus said. “Lily and James worked for the government; Lily as an office worker, James as a bobby. They were targeted by an anti-government group because of their jobs, and were murdered in their home because of it.” Remus closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. “Dorea was only 15 months old at the time. Lily was pregnant.” The woman’s eyes widened with horror at that information.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Why didn’t you take Dorea in?”
“I have a chronic illness, caused when I was attacked by a pack of dogs as a child,” he indicated to his scars from Greyback and Moony. “I can’t take care of her because of the cost of my medications, it wouldn’t be allowed by the government.” It wasn’t a lie. “I didn’t know where she had been sent, you can imagine my surprise when I saw that she’s in the house that Lily bought for her sister.” The woman’s eyes widened.
“Petunia and Vernon didn’t buy the house?” She asked. Remus laughed.
“Oh no, they were in a financial problem with Lily bought them the house. James, Dorea’s father, came from old money. His father was a Knight to the Crown.” He watched as Dorea ran off, faster than any other child on the playground. “He served in both wars, under King Edward. Charlus would have loved to take Dorea on of he were alive today.” The woman’s eyes widened at the information of Dorea’s paternal family.
“A Knight?” Her voice was weak. Remus nodded, pride flowing through him at the memory of Charlus. “Old money?”
“Yep, James was an absolutely arrogant bastard when we were younger. It wasn’t until his parents passed away that he finally started to grow up - I guess being forced to take on control of his family’s responsibilities and finances forced him to grow up quickly.” Remus shrugged. “He grew up damn fast, and turned into a man that I’m proud to have been friends with.” The woman looked at him, studying his face, before turning back to watch the children.
“You know, no one in the area likes the Dursley family,” she said carefully. “Care to tell me more about Dorea’s parents?” Remus grinned, hell hath no fury like a bored housewife.
“I would love to.”
Petunia was furious. No, furious didn’t even begin to summarize the feelings that she had at the moment.
One of those freaks had gotten in contact with Dorea, and was now good friends with Mrs. 6 next door. Not only that, but he was telling everyone that her sister and her husband were nobility!
She grit her teeth silently, sipping her tea and staring that freak down over the table, speaking happily with Mrs. 6 and Mrs. 3, while Mrs. Widowed 5 was munching on a digestive. He was entertaining them with stories of Dorea as an infant, and how she caused James to panic when she discovered how to hide. Mrs. 5 laughed wholeheartedly of how he spoke of Lily’s reaction to finding Dorea behind their loveseat.
“ - and so Dorea, nibbling on one of the cat toys behind the couch, just smiled at Lily and myself while James was in a panic over in the kitchen. You should have heard him when we said we found her, I don’t think I’ll ever see someone so relieved yet so terrified at the same time,” Remus said, ending his story with a sip of tea. Mrs. 5 leaned forward.
“Do tell, did Lily and James get married because of a pregnancy?” Heads jerked at the sheer audacity of the question. “I mean no harm, but would they were so young, and as I recall almost none of your generation plans on children before the age 30 now.” With age came a crassness that Petunia strongly disapproved of. Remus smiled wildly at her.
“They were married 11 months before Dorea’s birth, however they had already been targeted and attacked by anti government groups twice since we left school, so I suppose they got married and had Dorea for the safety and the concern that they wouldn't be able to do so later,” his face turned terribly sad. “And, sadly, they were right. They never even got to the birth of their second child.”
Petunia spat out her tea at that, hacking and coughing. Second child - Lily had been pregnant when she died?! All of them looked at her in horror.
“They didn’t tell you?” Remus whispered, eyes wide. “No one told you about that? They knew for months at that point.” Petunia shook her head, coughing in agony of having breathed in some tea. Mrs. 6 thumped her on the back, helping clear her airway.
“Oh dear, I shouldn't have asked…” Mrs. 5 fretted, looking at Petunia in concern. “I’m so sorry for finding out this way…” Petunia breathed in deeply for a minute.
“I - I had never been told details,” she confessed. “Dorea as left on our doorstep, in a basket with a few belongings, with a note explaining that Lily and her husband were dead.” Remus’ teacup shattered in his hands, his eyes blazing with fury. He completely ignored that his hand was bleeding, or Mrs. 3’s shriek of shock. Mrs. 5 grabbed Remus’ hand, pulling shards of porcelain out of his flesh and gently dabbing at his hand.
“Oh dear, this is deep,” she muttered to herself. “We’ll have to take you to a hospital to get sutures…” Remus closed his eyes and breathed in for a minute.
“A letter ?” He whispered. Petunia froze as she recognised the anger in his voice. He was the one who kicked her from Lily and James’ wedding. “She was left on your doorstep with nothing but some belongings and a bloody letter ?!” His rage was palpable, and Petunia found herself nodding in fear. Mrs. 5 bonked him on the head, successfully distracting everyone from his anger.
“Hospital. Now. Petunia, dear, get the car.”
Dumbledore was signing papers for the Wizengamot when Minerva knocked on his door. He looked up as the door opened.
“Minerva, what is this visit for? The school year just ended.” He asked. Minerva sighed and held the door open for an enraged Remus Lupin, eyes glowing amber as a sign of how close his wolf was to the surface at the moment. His wand hand was covered in fresh bandages. “Remus? What are you -”
“A BLOODY FUCKING LETTER?!” He roared, his hand twitching. Albus knew if he had his wand in hand, that he would be cursing up a storm. “YOU LEFT DOREA WITH PETUNIA, OF ALL PEOPLE, WITH A BLOODY LETTER?!” Minerva sighed more deeply.
“I did tell you that was a horrible idea, Albus, I-” Remus whirled on her.
“YOU KNEW ?! YOU KNEW WHERE SHE WAS, WHO SHE WAS WITH, HOW SHE WAS LEFT, AND YOU DID NOTHING ?!” Minerva’s mouth flattened into a thin line.
“Now young man, that is no way to-” she never finished her sentence as Remus slapped her across the face.
Albus jumped from his chair, portraits of previous Headmasters and Headmistresses shouting. Phineus cheered for Remus, calling out that it should have been done ages ago.
“Remus!” He barked. The werewolf turned to glance at him, and then turned back to Minerva.
“Don’t you ever address me as a student of yours again,” he snarled, closing in on a now terrified Minerva. “ You lost that ability the moment you abandoned my cub without second thought, without a check in the world. Shs is now nothing to you, and I’ll make sure that she knows why .” Minerva was white, staring at the werewolf that she had taught in front of her, enraged and intelligent and powerful, her internal feline shaking in fear at the wolf before her.
He turned back to Albus, who had his wand aimed directly at Remus.
“Minerva, leave.” She didn’t need to be told twice, skittering out with a speed that was inhuman. The door slammed shut behind her, and cold blue met angry amber.
“What are you doing, Remus.” It wasn’t a question. Remus shifted and stared at Albus.
“Lily and James left a letter for me, written in blood.” Albus blinked in surprise. “It was in the Family Trunk. It named Dorea’s Blood Father.” Cold horror struck Albus, and he fell backwards into his chair.
No. They couldn't - they didn't - he didn't know .
“What have I done .” He whispered, his face turning as white as his beard. Remus glared at him.
“If you had informed me earlier, we could have prevented this.” Albus held his head in his hands, tears burning his eyes.
He failed. He failed so horribly.
“What of the trial…?” Albus whispered. Remus jerked in confusion.
“I thought you judged it.”
The two stared at each other, slowly realising in absolute horror what had happened.
Sirius had never gotten a trial .