Remus Lupin and the Prisoner of Azkaban (#Wolfstar)

Chapter Thirteen- Christmas

Wordcount: 2666

The Professor didn't have a very clear idea of how he had managed to get back into the Honeydukes cellar, through the tunnel, and into the castle once more. All he knew was that the return trip seemed to take no time at all, and that he hardly noticed what he was doing, because his head was still pounding with the conversation he had just heard. He kept hearing footsteps from another person, which confirmed he was going mad. There was clearly no one around.

He didn't sleep at all that night. He sat at his desk. He had his head in his hands. He stared at the Polaroid. He stared at nothing. He didn't move. He thought.

The story of Sirius Black and the murder of the Potters was a puzzle, and Remus had, in twelve years, not managed to collect all the pieces, but he was so close. Almost there. Yet, there was something missing, a key information. He could feel it, and it was driving him insane.

Around dawn, pure exhaustion had gotten him to bed, at least for a few hours. It was midday when he woke up again, deciding to leave his office for a change.

He stepped out the door, into the corridor. The staff room would be a good place to start. So he walked up the stairs and into the teachers' room, where he discovered no one. 'Where is everyone? ' Then it hit him, as he was staring right at a beautiful, green Christmas tree. 'It's the Christmas holidays!'

Remus sat in one of the mismatching chairs and pulled the Polaroid picture out of the folds of his cloak. Christmas was supposed to be that special time of the year, where peace and quiet are in the air, mixed with charming Christmas carols and the smell of freshly baked mince pie. But without a family, it never was anything but sad, so sitting alone in the deserted spacious staff room, Remus felt just as empty as the room.

He looked at the picture warily. After what he had heard yesterday, his mind was all over the place. It was not like anything was particularly news to him, but the way the Minister had put it, maybe Sirius was terribly dangerous after all. Maybe Remus just had to accept that the man in the polaroid was long gone. If he hadn't known it was the same person, he would never have guessed it even was him in this old photograph. His face wasn't sunken and waxy, but handsome, full of laughter. Had he already been working for Voldemort when this picture had been taken? Was he already planning the deaths of the people closest to him? Did he realize he was facing twelve years in Azkaban, twelve years that would make him unrecognizable?

But the dementors don't affect him, Remus thought, staring at the handsome, laughing face. He doesn't have to hear James screaming, Peter yelling and himself laughing maniacally after committing murder, every time they get too close...

Remus stuffed the picture back where it belonged and sighed. In no way was this all of it. There was a piece missing. A piece of the big puzzle that the murder of the Potters and Peter was. Maybe the missing key information would give clarity. Maybe then it would all make sense. Or maybe that was just the part of him refusing to believe that his Sirius was a murderer. Maybe he was just blinded and Sirius was, in fact, nothing more than a traitor. Maybe... Maybe.

Meanwhile, in the rest of the castle, the usual magnificent Christmas decorations had been put up, despite the fact that hardly any of the students remained to enjoy them. Thick streamers of holly and mistletoe were strung along the corridors, mysterious lights shone from inside every suit of armour, and the Great Hall was filled with its usual twelve Christmas trees, glittering with golden stars. A powerful and delicious smell of cooking pervaded the corridors, and by Christmas Eve, it had grown so strong that it was present in every office from the dungeon to the top of the towers.

On Christmas morning, Remus woke up at a reasonable hour to find a tiny stack of neatly wrapped presents on his desk. He smiled to himself. That surprised him, he had not really expected anything. Smiling widely, he got out of bed and got dressed and ignored the dizziness clouding his brain fully. He drank some water and made his bed, before sitting down and tending to the few presents in front of him.