Remus Lupin and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Chapter 25: Christmas

The end of term rolled across the school like some sort of storm front, leaving a mere scattering of students and Professors behind in the halls and dormitories. The staff had held what seemed to be an annual gift exchange in the staffroom the morning of the Hogwarts Express departure, before most of them made the trip back home to spend the holiday break with family. Remus had not been told that this would happen and guilt at his own short sightedness chafed at the pride that had been blooming within him at the ever growing ease with which he was managing to fit into the rhythm of the castle. It was Christmas, of course there would be gifts. Just because he hadn't personally celebrated the holiday with anyone for many years didn't mean the rest of the world was so stunted.

He apologized profusely and tried to refuse the warm, thick knitted mittens Professor Sprout pushed into his hands as well as the book on anecdotal stories about dark beasts from McGonagall. It was when Dumbledore presented him a set of sky blue quills and a broad, twinkling smile, brushing away his words, that he began to suspect that he had been purposefully left out of the loop on account of his budget. The thought made him flush under his collar with embarrassment. Until it pushed him to resolve to spring surprise Valentine's Day presents on all of them, just to return the "favor".

He wasn't particularly close with any of the other teachers, but Professor Sinestra did give him a box of chocolate biscuits that she had also gotten for everyone else and Professor Binns just wished them all a rather vague Merry Christmas. Charity Burbage, who taught Muggle studies, handed out a Muggle devices she excitedly revealed to be "floppy discs" to everyone, to their intense bemusement. Remus did actually have working knowledge of the Muggle world, having been relegated to the outskirts, the sort of grey area between the 2 cultures, so the idea of being given a floppy disc that was essentially useless without its partner devices entertained him immensely. He accepted the gift gravely with the proper amount of interest and appreciation anyhow. Nearly all of the Professors had gone home after the celebration, leaving behind himself, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Professor Trelawney, whom he had never actually encountered face to face.

It was a few days before Christmas in the nearly vacant castle that the dreamy and elusive Professor Trelawney was actually at the breakfast table, staring deeply into her plate of sausage and eggs as if they held a particularly complex puzzle. Curiously, Remus seated himself next to her and ventured a, "Good morning, Professor."

He had had a enough...enlightening conversations with Professor McGonagall on the subject of Sybill Trelawney to know that her opinion of the woman was rather low. Quite low. Incredibly low. Words like 'con artist' and 'frivolous idiot' and 'waste if professional resources' had been bandied around more than once, which was, frankly, rather impressive considering their specificity. He, however, preferred to draw his own conclusions.

At his greeting, she turned and blinked her enormous eyes, blown comically wide underneath thick lenses. The move wafted a wave of musky incense over him and he had to fight the urge to sneeze, opting instead to clear his throat. "Oh," She answered mistily, "it won't be, I'm afraid. Though the vibrations of the higher planes are not as potent as they may be in my sanctuary, the message is clear." She gravely spread her thin, bejeweled fingers over her plate in an invitation. Obligingly, he leaned over and peered down.

"Ah...." It was...sausage and eggs. "Perhaps I'm not practiced enough to...parse this particular message."

"Grave news. A visit! A storm, approaching." Trelawney seemed to be watching his face knowingly as she circled the running yoke with her finger. "Betrayal."

"Hmm!" Seemed a neutral enough response. Remus had the feeling that she would have delighted his friends back in their school days, if only because she would have provided so much entertainment. He batted this thought away reprovingly--she was a Professor-- and looked back at her. "However can you tell? I had heard of tea leaves, but I must confess; divination was never something I excelled at."

She has a knowing smile and said in a dreamy voice. "It is an art few do, I fear. It requires a delicate attunement to the mystical forces beyond common knowledge. It is rare that someone who has not devoted their life to the noble path to the Truth would be as fluent as a master. Using the arts of ornithomancy and haruspication, even something so common as breakfast can be revealing." She nodded her bangled head sagely, her long, beaded earrings clacking.

Ornitho... He mused internally, Birds? Oh. The eggs. Ah... "Haruspication?" he inquired mildly.

"The study of animal entrails for glimpses of the future."

Remus kept his face very straight. And the sausages. "How...ah...exceptional."

A movement beyond Professor Trelawney caught his eye and down the staff table a way saw Professor McGonagall staring at him pointedly with wide eyes. Remus bit the inside of his cheek and wrestled with his expression as he turned his focus back to the novel woman who sat beside him. He could still see McGonagall from the corner of his eye. "You must have a truly, er, exceptional gaze to see so many signs in our everyday life!" He offered, perhaps a bit over-brightly. No...

McGonagall made a quick move in his periphery; a hand to her mouth? Remus pursed his lips and bit his tongue. No no...

Trelawney beamed at him glitteringly. "Well!" She sounded quite vindicated. "I must say, it is a relief to know that there are still respectable wizards in this world that value and respect the ancient arts, besides our esteemed Headmaster."

Well, this was nothing but the truth, and so he felt safe saying, "I do, indeed."

Leaning over, she peered deeply at his choice of breakfast, fingers steepled pensively. "Hmmm. Bacon...toast...muffin...." Her voice was hushed and ominous, then, she gave a small gasp. "Tea."

Remus could see McGonagall shaking, making him wrap an arm around his middle, the other plastered hastily over his mouth, taking deep, steadying breaths through his nose. The mirth that was filling his chest was a dangerous bubble that threatened to burst out of him. No no no... "Drink!" the cup was thrust beneath his nose, which he gratefully took and sucked down, focusing on the scalding of his tongue instead.

As she squinted into his tea dregs, muttering quietly, he poured himself some chilled cordial to soothe his mouth and pointedly did not look at McGonagall. "Aaaah," Trelawney breathed at his elbow. "A moon."

A quiet wheeze came from beyond her that she didn't seem to hear. "A wheel--changes. The rim--a difficult past."

"Oh dear," he offered in a strangled voice.

"A career change...a connection..." she lifted her eyes slowly. "A castle."

Remus was desperately trying to keep the convulsing form of McGonagall out of his line of sight. His hand was back over his mouth, eyes bright as he nodded vigorously. "Mm!"

"My dear..." she lay a sympathetic hand on his arm. "You must let me scry in my crystal ball for you; I am receiving a premonition... Christmas...a change will come over you...."

Remus shot to his feet and said in a pinched voice that racheted up about an octave too high, "Oh! I've forgotten something I desperately need! In my study! Excuse me!"

He managed to make it out the doors of the Great Hall until he turned and saw Professor McGonagall at his heels. When their gazes met, they each dissolved into peals of helpless giggles. "A moon!" McGonagall wheezed.

"Does she know? Does she know the staff knows, that it's not a secret?" Remus choked.

"'A change will come over you,'" the parroted in a quavery voice. "Considering it's the full moon and you can read a calendar--!"

"Now now, I'm sure she's a valuable--"

"She's not!!" McGonagall half howled, wiping a tear from under her glasses.

"Now be fair--"

"Tea." She intoned with such implied menace and dread that they both crumpled over double and shook with laughter so hard, their stomachs ached.