Thicker than Water (Marauders Era) PART II

13 October, 1996 - Games

"You do realize that my expertise is in spell damage, not artefacts accidents, right?"

"I am aware."

"Then why am I here?"

"It seemed like a good excuse to talk to you."

"You want to talk to me?" Lavinia's skepticism was poorly disguised in this last comment, but she didn't particularly care. Dumbledore was more than capable of handling her annoyance. He'd demonstrated as much more than once in the past and besides, Lavinia thought the old man could do with someone around to check his ego once in a while. He was not, afterall, infallible. And Lavinia knew that better, it seemed, than nearly every other person who regularly interacted with him. She also wasn't afraid to point it out to him.

Not that Dumbledore seemed to pay much attention to her when she did.

Indeed, today, Dumbledore merely raised a brow slightly and apparently elected not to comment on her less than pleasant tone.

"I do," he informed her calmly. "There are a few matters I would like to fill you in on and it seems prudent to do so in person."

Lavinia blinked and bit back a handful of acidic words about how it was oh so nice of him to finally deign to inform her on anything at all. But there was no sense in saying those now because she really would like some information, seeing as how that hadn't exactly been forthcoming in recent weeks. Or months. Or indeed, just about any time since the war had started in earnest. So even if she suspected the old man had other motives for filling her in at last, Lavinia wasn't going to stop him from doing so.

So instead, she merely waited, raising her brows impatiently as Dumbledore paused for a moment, apparently thinking his next words over.

"First, you should know that Remus is safe," Dumbledore informed her after a few moments of rather tense silence. "He reported to me just a few days ago and his work is progressing perhaps more slowly than I would have hoped, but it is progressing nonetheless."

Lavinia blinked, waiting. But Dumbledore seemed to be finished. She felt her face melt into a frown. "Really?" she asked drily. "That's it?"

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean, Miss Selwyn," Dumbledore replied calmly, regarding her with a politely puzzled expression. "This is not the only matter I wish to discuss with you, but regarding Remus, yes. That is it."

Lavinia felt her frown tightening slightly into something that would probably have been classified as a scowl. "I haven't seen him in nearly two months and all you've got is that he's safe and your stupid little agenda is going well?" she demanded. Which was wrong, and she knew that. Because Remus was helping the war effort, was playing a necessary role and getting information they needed, but all the same... sometimes Lavinia rather felt like they were all just puppets being jerked around by men who thought they knew better. By men like Dumbledore and the Dark Lord who played out wars like they were games of chess instead of tragedies that killed thousands.

And in moments like this, when all Dumbledore saw fit to tell her about her friend of twenty plus years who she hadn't seen for weeks on end as he wandered among the ranks of werewolves who wouldn't have hesitated to kill him if they knew where his true loyalties lay, was that his work was "progressing." And even that Dumbledore was a bit disappointed with.

No mention of how he was getting on. Of whether he had asked about her or seemed like he was coping or anything. Just... work. Business. Like she and Remus both were less human beings with thoughts and feelings and cares and more... pawns. Means to an end. Machines. Nothing more.

And maybe that wasn't true. Maybe the loneliness of the past weeks was getting to her. Maybe the events of the previous spring were clouding her judgement. Maybe she just wanted one more excuse to hate this old man for the things he hadn't foreseen.