The Marauders - Order of the Phoenix - Part Two

XXXIV: January, 1994

It was driving Remus Lupin mad, trying to figure out where Sirius Black had gone. He felt that he had checked every crevice of Hogwarts and not had a bit of luck finding Sirius. It was as though he'd completely disappeared - a trick that Sirius had always been alarmingly good at, and which had always particularly driven Remus crazy.

"If only I had the Map again," Remus muttered as he limped his way about the castle throughout all the rest of the holidays, trying every secret tunnel and room that he could remember. There were loads more on the map, he knew there was several he was forgetting about, but of course he had no idea what happened to it after he, Sirius, Peter and James had given it to Oliver Kent and his friends.

Wild with frustration, Remus had even thought of looking into trying at contacting the Chudley Cannons' seeker to see what sort of light thar Ollie could shed on what happened next to the map, but in all likelihood Oliver wouldn't know much more than Remus did, and trying to get in touch with an internationally recognized and beloved quidditch star wasn't exactly the sort of thing a person could just jot down in an owl and chuck it to the sky.

The only thing he could think to try was Filch's office and the drawer of confiscated items. He decided to check there, and walked down to the office on the Sunday before term was fit to restart.

Filch looked at Remus with suspicion, but perhaps a bit less than usual, when he showed up for the second time in a week.

"What is it you're needin', Professor?" he asked warily. The caretaker kept his door partly closed, peering out from behind a sliding chain lock.

"I came to tell you about a terrible mess I encountered just now - fourth floor, by the Ravenclaw prefect's toilet... dunno what happened, but I reckon Peeves is behind it.. I saw him cackling on the stairwell."

"That poltergeist!" Filch hissed and he disappeared inside long enough to grab his mop and bucket, and then Remus watched him run down the hall, headed for a mess that wasn't there.

Remus looked at the still slightly ajar caretaker's office. "Well, don't mind if I do..." he murmured, and he stepped inside quickly and shut the door behind himself.

The office was dark, lit only by lanterns that were made for lighting the muggle way, which flickered and threaten to go out, even as Remus closed the door. The dreadfulness was only heightened by the lengths of chains that hung on the furthest wall of the castle.

"What have you to say for yourselves? Getting caught at - at such filthiness - in the very corridors of this - a school! Where anyone could have found you!"

"Well, you see, Rule Number One dictates that our dormitory is meant to be a haven of celibacy," Sirius began. "So we had to go and do it somewhere, didn't we? Figured the tower was as good a place as any... nice and private-like. And nobody usually goes up there except during astronomy classes."

Filch was fuming.

"Hey, by the way, could we possibly borrow a few of those manacles and chains sometime?" Sirius asked, pointing at the wall. He grinned and winked at Remus, then turned back to Filch, "Sometimes my Moon-Moon likes to play it rough."

"Sirius!" Remus had flushed crimson.

"We could play sexy Azkaban and you could be my dirty, dirty dementor. Just imagine the shag that would be!"

"SIRIUS!"

Now, he turned away from looking at the chains, feeling rather like the joke hadn't aged well. Only Sirius Black ever would have made it to begin with. It had been added to one of Filch's cards and stuck in Sirius's file no less, marked as inappropriate conversation.

"Not that I ever have any appropriate ones, mind," Sirius had let out one of his barking laughs, then added, "C'mon, Filchy, don't be cross. Surely you've got a bit of a kink, too, having held onto the chains so long!"

Remus shook his head, trying at erasing the thought of Sirius Black talking dirty from his mind.

He turned to the desk, sliding behind it, kneeling by the filing cabinet and opening a drawer marked Confiscated and Highly Dangerous.

The moment he opened it, there was a loud rush of sound and a burst of energy nearly upended him. When he gathered his wits it was to find a full moon hovering in the middle of the room.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... full moon, low cloud coverage, spooky." Remus turned back around, ignoring the boggart behind him, and started ruffling through the drawer.

There was a wild assortment of items in the drawer. Everything from fanged frisbees to biting erasers; dung bombs, firecrackers and Filibusters; mysterious bottles of potion, joke wands, plastic snakes and a book which screamed at the touch of Remus's hand. There were some parchments - mostly ones with hexes and jinx written on them, but a couple of notes with animated drawings of various things - including one drawn of Harry being struck by lightening on a broom stick, which Remus immediately set an incendio upon. But despite all he did find in the drawer, Remus did not find the Marauder's Map.

"Damn," he muttered. He'd really let his hopes get up at the prospect of the map being in that drawer. In one way, it was disappointing; in another, comforting.

He was just getting up - slowly and painfully - when Filch returned, cursing under his breath. He stepped into the office and closed the door, then turned about and saw Remus. "You! What are you doing in my office! In my filing cabinet, no less! Some things never change, is that it? You --- NOOOOO!!!"

Remus's eyes widened as his eyes followed Filch's panicked expression and saw the boggart moon had morphed out of shape of the moon now that it was before Filch it has changed to --

Hermes Filch, laying spreadeagled on the floor, eyes open, vacant, dead, staring at the ceiling as a pool of blood beneath him grew and grew...

Filch covered his face and fell to his knees as Mrs. Norris hissed and flared.

Remus stepped 'round the desk quickly, heart breaking for Filch as his cries filled the room. The boggart changed back to the full moon, and Remus waved his wand, magicking a crate, which he forced the boggart down into, closing the lid on it, even as the moon glowed.

Filch was still shaking on the floor, a right mess.

"Mr. Filch," Remus said, "Are you alright?" But Filch couldn't answer, he just stared at the bit of floor where Hermes had laid just moments before.
"Mr. Filch... it's alright. It's okay. I - I know it's hard to talk about such things. I know everyone processes these things differently. You may never be ready to talk about - about Hermes; but I'm here for you, if ever you are..."

"Get out," Filch said coldly, looking up at Remus.

"What?"

"GET OUT YOU NASTY BOY AND TAKE YOUR FILTHY STINKIN' CRATE WITH YOU! HORRIBLE TRICK YOU PLAYED!!! DUMBLEDORE WILL HEAR OF IT!! You understand! It's your job I'll have!!!"

Remus jumped back in surprise at the outburst, but he didn't hesitate. He grabbed the crate and hurried from the office.

One thing he had learned, long ago, was to let grieving people grieve however they needed to do - and that it wasn't always a logical process - however much he, Remus, might wish that it were.