(HP) Remus is a Good Boy (4/6)
Please see the Remus is a Good Boy Chapter List for story details including summary, warnings, etc.
Part Three: Minerva McGonagall
Remus is a Good Boy
Part Four: Severus Snape
“Remus is a good boy.”
I’m mocking him, and he knows it. He’s trying to ignore me, but I’m having too much fun, and I get as close to his face as possible, sneering.
“You may have Dumbledore fooled,” I continue, “but I know better. You’re not taking on this little ‘assignment’ to help the Order. You want to join the other beasts, don’t you? Finally gives you an excuse to act like the wild animal that you are, I suppose….”
“Go away, Severus,” he says with a sigh, pushing past me and attempting to get out of the infirmary. After years of acquiring Wolfsbane Potion-something I agreed to provide after deciding that it was far better to brew a potion for an enemy than to have a full-grown werewolf wandering throughout wizarding Britain once a month-he isn’t used to the pain a normal transformation causes. He made his way to Hogwarts this morning, hiding in the hospital wing like a cowardly child and swallowing as many pain-relieving and muscle-relaxing potions as Poppy would allow.
The knowledge that he must slowly integrate himself with Greyback’s group of werewolves and live as they do sickens him, I can tell. Even I could see the look of dread and self-loathing on his face when Albus asked him to go undercover. But I also know that this man almost killed me on two occasions, and I have little faith in his assurances that he takes no pleasure in spending the full moons with his own kind.
“Tell me, Wolf, does running with the pack help you to get over the death of your beloved dog?” I ask, bringing up the one subject that I know will get under his skin. “After all, the nights must get cold and lonely without a fellow beast to keep you company….”
I know that the last thing Lupin wants at this moment is to be reminded of Black. If he were here, he would be furious with his wolf for agreeing to infiltrate Greyback’s little posse.
Black had no subtlety. He was ‘all or nothing’, diving headfirst into a cause and displaying his devotion with his every action. He never understood my undercover work, seeing it as simply an excuse to associate with Death Eaters, and I don’t think he would have accepted Lupin’s new ‘assignment’ without putting up a fight. In a way, I almost wish he’d survived the Department of Mysteries battle, if only because the argument would have been highly amusing to watch.
A look of complete rage comes across Lupin’s face, and he suddenly pulls his wand from his robes, catching me off guard. Glaring at the piece of wood pointed at my face, I shake my head, though my heart rate speeds up. I taught myself a long time ago how to keep my features appearing calm when I am nervous, and that self-training is coming in handy now.
“Get out, Snape,” he growls, his cheeks flushing with barely controlled fury. No one has the ability to anger him like I do, which is why I strive to make him lose his temper so often. It’s a challenge that presents itself so rarely in life, and an opportunity that I can’t help but take advantage of.
Sneering at him without a hint of fear in my expression, I roll my eyes and turn on my heels, storming out of the hospital wing.
Part Five: Poppy Pomfrey
Part Three: Minerva McGonagall
Remus is a Good Boy
Part Four: Severus Snape
“Remus is a good boy.”
I’m mocking him, and he knows it. He’s trying to ignore me, but I’m having too much fun, and I get as close to his face as possible, sneering.
“You may have Dumbledore fooled,” I continue, “but I know better. You’re not taking on this little ‘assignment’ to help the Order. You want to join the other beasts, don’t you? Finally gives you an excuse to act like the wild animal that you are, I suppose….”
“Go away, Severus,” he says with a sigh, pushing past me and attempting to get out of the infirmary. After years of acquiring Wolfsbane Potion-something I agreed to provide after deciding that it was far better to brew a potion for an enemy than to have a full-grown werewolf wandering throughout wizarding Britain once a month-he isn’t used to the pain a normal transformation causes. He made his way to Hogwarts this morning, hiding in the hospital wing like a cowardly child and swallowing as many pain-relieving and muscle-relaxing potions as Poppy would allow.
The knowledge that he must slowly integrate himself with Greyback’s group of werewolves and live as they do sickens him, I can tell. Even I could see the look of dread and self-loathing on his face when Albus asked him to go undercover. But I also know that this man almost killed me on two occasions, and I have little faith in his assurances that he takes no pleasure in spending the full moons with his own kind.
“Tell me, Wolf, does running with the pack help you to get over the death of your beloved dog?” I ask, bringing up the one subject that I know will get under his skin. “After all, the nights must get cold and lonely without a fellow beast to keep you company….”
I know that the last thing Lupin wants at this moment is to be reminded of Black. If he were here, he would be furious with his wolf for agreeing to infiltrate Greyback’s little posse.
Black had no subtlety. He was ‘all or nothing’, diving headfirst into a cause and displaying his devotion with his every action. He never understood my undercover work, seeing it as simply an excuse to associate with Death Eaters, and I don’t think he would have accepted Lupin’s new ‘assignment’ without putting up a fight. In a way, I almost wish he’d survived the Department of Mysteries battle, if only because the argument would have been highly amusing to watch.
A look of complete rage comes across Lupin’s face, and he suddenly pulls his wand from his robes, catching me off guard. Glaring at the piece of wood pointed at my face, I shake my head, though my heart rate speeds up. I taught myself a long time ago how to keep my features appearing calm when I am nervous, and that self-training is coming in handy now.
“Get out, Snape,” he growls, his cheeks flushing with barely controlled fury. No one has the ability to anger him like I do, which is why I strive to make him lose his temper so often. It’s a challenge that presents itself so rarely in life, and an opportunity that I can’t help but take advantage of.
Sneering at him without a hint of fear in my expression, I roll my eyes and turn on my heels, storming out of the hospital wing.
Part Five: Poppy Pomfrey