The Sugar Quill
Author: Alphie (Professors' Bookshelf)  Story: Mirrored  Chapter: Chapter One
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Author’s Notes and Explanations

Author’s Notes and Explanations

 

I thought it would be easiest to get all the notes out of the way so that I don’t have to post them at the start of each chapter.  I’ve never done it this way before, but I just think it will work better this way.

 

For starters, I would like to thank everyone at the Werewolf Registry for their support and interest in this fic.  I am primarily writing the story for them – to stop the nagging!  LOL!  This is started as a random plot bunny that exploded into what may possibly be the darkest fic in the Thing1 compendium.

 

I would also like to give a personal thank you to a few special people involved in the story.  First of all, JKR – thanks for letting me and other fan fiction writers play in your world.  Thing1 – thanks for letting me take your characters and torture them yet again!  You’re a great springboard for ideas.  Durayan – You are the best durn alpha reader in the history of alpha readers.  ALL of my fics would totally suck if it weren’t for your suggestions and rewrites.  Alkari and Mincot – Thanks for Aussifying my fic!   The Good Doctor Monaco – Thanks for my title!

 

Now, if you are not familiar with the works of Thing1, you might be a bit confused.  Never fear, I’m going to catch you up.  This story is an AU.  It takes place after Goblet of Fire, and even considers a few of the things we learned in Order of the Phoenix.  However, Sirius is not dead.  We are in denial about that and are ignoring it for the purposes of THIS fic.  Someday I’m sure I’ll get over the denial and write about him being gone, but not now.  Sirius is alive and well in this story. 

 

Here is what you need to know.  Remus is married to a healer named Katie.  They have three children – Malcolm, Roarke, and Annie.  At the time of this story, Malcom works as an Auror, Roarke has been out of Hogwarts for almost a year, and Annie is in her sixth year at Hogwarts.  The story centers around Roarke and the events that lead up to her wedding.

 

If you ARE familiar with the Thing1 stories, this takes place after Goblin Market and during/after The Gift (aka The Sweater Fic).  So Miri isn’t alive at the start of the fic, but she will be by the end.  I know – confusing!

 

Now then, this it isn’t a “happy” fic.  OH NO!  That’s why I have given it an “R” rating.  Like I said, this is the darkest fic I think we’ve seen in the Thing1 series.  I will be dealing with werewolf rights and punishments.  The very nature of the plot forces the characters into self-evaluation, which will lead to arguments and frustration.  There are a few moments of violence and even some harsher language than I’ve ever used before in a fic.  And to top it all off, we have a touchy sexual relationship to deal with.  Don’t expect vulgar swearing or blatant sex scenes.  Just expect a more mature fic than what I usually write. 

 

Now, if you’re curious about the fic, please continue reading!  If you want to catch up on the works of Thing1, you can find a complete list at http://www.werewolfregistry.net/thingficlist.html.  I look forward to hearing your thoughts and comments on the exploded plot bunny that is “Mirrored.”

 

Alphie 

 

 

CHAPTER ONE:

Wednesday, February 12  – 10:00 am

 

Drab.  There wasn’t any better description for this part of London.  Remus had been here several times, and the place never looked any better.  All the buildings were dark and shabby.  The sun didn’t even seem to shine as brightly in this area.  The only real color on this particular street came from a solitary, old, red phone booth standing at the end of the road. 

 

Remus made his way toward the booth.  His legs were still a bit stiff from the recent transformation, but he had become used to that decades ago.  At least the sun was shining and he wouldn’t have to face a full moon again for a few weeks.  He casually stepped into the booth, shut the door behind him, picked up the receiver, and dialed 62442. 

 

“Welcome to the ministry of Magic,” a polite female voice said.  “ Please state your name and business.”

 

“Remus J. Lupin.  ID number UKW 1961 – 2584.  I received a letter yesterday asking me to attend a meeting with Mr. Williams at the Werewolf Registry.”

 

“Thank you,” said the pleasant voice.  “Please take your badge and attach it to the front of your robes.”

 

Remus bit his lip.  This was always the worst part of having to visit Mr. Williams.  As if it wasn’t bad enough that he had lived more than fifty years with the curse, as if it wasn’t humiliating having to describe himself as a number, he was now expected to walk the halls of the Ministry of Magic with a badge labeling him as such.

 

The badge slipped out of the coin return and Remus unwillingly pinned it to his robes.

 

Remus J. Lupin

WEREWOLF

UKW 1961-2584

Visiting The Werewolf Registry

 

Everyone who visited the Ministry of Magic was required to wear one of these identification badges.  For werewolves, however, a special badge was required.  The square, silver colored badges had been charmed to glow red when the full moon drew close.  This way, werewolves would be easily spotted – and avoided.  Fortunately for Remus, the full moon had been two days ago, so his badge was a currently a dull silver. 

 

It hadn’t always been this way.  For years, all it required was a name to get into the Ministry of Magic.  Any creature, whether it be a human or a beast, just needed a name to be identified.  However, an unregistered werewolf protesting the laws inflicted on his kind, ruined that so called freedom, when he managed to enter the building on the eve of a full moon some twenty years ago.  The werewolf hid in a broom cupboard and waited for the transformation to consume him.  He then rampaged through the building in an attempt to prove werewolves were more powerful than unaffected humans.  He was wrong.  With in minutes, a squad was sent out to capture him, and the werewolf spent the rest of his days in the Lupus Claustrum – the Werewolf Prison.  Since then, the regulations concerning access to the Ministry Building had become rather strict for werewolves. 

 

Remus was given the usual instructions about visiting the security desk where he would be searched and have to hand over his wand.  “Normal” witches and wizards were allowed to retain their wands after being searched.  Werewolves, and other beasts that might have a wand, were not so fortunate.  Just another reason Remus hated coming here.

 

He wasn’t even certain why he was here.  He hadn’t done anything wrong.  Well…it had been a few months at least since he had done anything wrong.  And even then he didn’t consider rescuing his own child from being held prisoner by a bunch of Goblins wrong!   Surely this meeting wasn’t about that?

 

Charles Dollholt, the security guard, took Remus’ wand and placed it in a container next to another wand.  “Sorry, Mr. Lupin,” he said sincerely. 

 

“It’s no problem, Charles,” Remus said forcing a smile. 

 

“What is the trouble this time?”   He closed the box and placed it on a shelf behind him. 

 

“I have no idea.  I was just told to come in today,” Remus shrugged.

 

“Well, I should warn you then.  There’s another one all ready down there.” Charles said quietly.

 

Puzzled, Remus asked, “Another one?”

 

“Another…” Charles swallowed hard.  “…werewolf.”

 

“Oh.  Hence the other wand in your keeping?” Remus asked pointing to the box where his wand lay. 

 

“Yeah, but this one is out of control!  Doesn’t seem like he’s too willing to play by the rules, if you ask me.  I would look out for him if I were you.”

 

“Thanks,” Remus said and headed toward the lifts.  Charles was a nice man in general, but the way he talked always bothered Remus slightly.  Saying things like, ‘another one’ and never referring to Remus as a man.  But Remus didn’t dwell on it.  Some people were just prejudiced, whether they meant to be that way or not. 

 

Remus entered the lift along with two witches and another wizard.  The wizard got off on level seven, leaving Remus to ride down with the witches.  They chattered next to him happily until the door opened at level five and a very old and cranky wizard got on.  He plowed his way onto the lift, showing no awareness that someone else might be on board.  To make more room, Remus stepped closer to the other two witches, bumping slightly into one of them.  The younger witch’s eyes darted form Remus’ badge, to his face, and then to her companion’s face, and she suppressed a gasp.

 

“Close quarters in here, isn’t it?” Remus asked the witch as pleasantly and innocuously as he could.  He knew she was terrified of him, but he only smiled benignly at her.

 

The witch merely nodded and tried to avoid eye contact.  Suddenly, the lift gave a slight shudder and the two witches grabbed at the handrails in order to keep from falling

 

“One would think the Ministry of Magic would take better care of its visitors.  These lifts are in sore need of repair,” he said conversationally.  “Visitors shouldn’t be exposed to dangerous situations.”

 

The witches stared wide eyed at him.

 

Turning away from them, Remus focused his attention on the door in front of him and the small journey there was to the next floor.  The door slid open and the pleasant voice announced their arrival at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.  Remus stepped out and heard a voice say, “See, I told you!  He is a…!

 

The other woman must have shushed her, as she did not finish her sentence.  Remus ignored them and headed to his right where Mr. Williams’ office was located, in the Beast Division. 

 

As he approached the door, a loud voice, angry and colored by an accent Remus couldn’t immediately place, filled the corridor.  “There is no bloody way I’m waiting that long!  You’ve got to be kidding me!  After what I just went through?”

 

Remus paused.  He heard the mumble of Mr. Williams’ voice followed by more shouting. 

 

“I don’t give a bloody rat’s arse what the law here says!  I’m not a British citizen, and I’m NOT staying one more night!  I want to GO HOME!”

 

Another soft mumble, and then the sound of papers flying all over the room.  “Get it through your head, ghostie, I’m not filling out more paper work!  I hate this entire, soggy, cold country; it’s a bleedin’ armpit, if you ask me.  And I’m pretty sure this country wants to get rid of me, too!  So let’s just send me back to the colonies, shall we, and stop all the agro!”

 

Australian. A rather angry Australian.  And from what he could tell, Mr. Williams wasn’t issuing the proper passport for the man to return home. 

 

Curious…I wonder why not?  Oh dear…did someone bite a tourist?

 

“Oh that’s just rich!” the man spat.  “Like I want to face that yobbo again!  You put me in the same room as him and I swear I’ll kill him!”

 

Remus thought it might be time to intervene.  He opened the door and caught the first glimpse of the owner of the furious voice.

 

It was indeed a young man.  He was rather oddly dressed, to Remus’ mind.   His robes were nearly sleeveless, showing off his strong arms.  He wore a necklace made out of what Remus could only imagine were the teeth of some wild animal, and his sun-streaked blond hair hung haphazardly in his eyes.  He barely glanced at Remus.

 

“Excuse me,” Remus said softly.  “I don’t mean to interrupt but –“

 

“Then don’t!” the young man said shortly. 

 

Remus narrowed his eyes.  “I beg your pardon, but there is no needl to be rude.”

 

“Kiss my arse, old man.  This doesn’t concern you.”

 

Remus cocked an eyebrow at the angry young man before him.   Old man?

 

“I’m afraid it does,” said the wheezy voice of Mr. Williams.  “I’m sorry to bring you into this, Remus, but I needed someone who had experience dealing with…out of control young men!”

 

The stranger whipped his head around to look at the ghost.  “Out of control?  I have done EVERYTHING you lot of wankers have asked of me, and MORE!”

 

“Really? Then why did the Crowdens ask for you to be reassigned?”

 

“How the hell should I know?  Those oldies wouldn’t be tolerant of the bleeding Pope, let alone me! They’re older than this fart!”  The stranger nodded in Remus’ direction.

 

“What did you just call me?” Remus said, not quite certain whether he should be offended or amused. . 

 

“I called you an old fart.  What’s the matter, hearing aid not working?”

 

“My hearing is considerably better than average,” Remus said piercingly.  He took a step closer to the man and looked him directly in the eyes.  “Apparently yours isn’t, as you need to shout everything you say.  Rather unusual, as hearing is one of the senses that should be increased by your condition.”

 

There was a pause as the young man just glared back at Remus.  Remus met the stare easily, and finally the other man looked away. “So who are you anyway? Another bloody bureaucrat with another list of regulations for me to follow?   Another “healer” sent to poke me and prod me and try experimental spells on me? A Ministry yobbo come to toss me in—what did they call it?  Azkaban?”

 

Remus found that he was becoming rather annoyed with the man.  “None of the above.  But if you prefer, I can see if I can find someone that fits that description for you.” 

 

Mr. Williams cleared his throat and said, “Mr. Zetter, this is Remus Lupin.  Remus, this is Liam Zetter.”

 

Remus offered his hand.  Liam, however, clenched his fists at his sides and said nothing.

 

Remus directed his attention to the ghost.  “Well, then, Mr. Williams, is there a reason you needed to see me?” 

 

“Mr. Zetter,” the ghost continued, “has been staying with the Crowdens.  He received the bite back in November.  If you’ll recall, I mentioned him the last time you were here, Remus.”

 

“Yes, I do remember.”

 

“I don’t appreciate you talking about me behind my back, ghostie,” Liam snarled.

 

“As a matter of fact, Mr. Williams never mentioned your name to me.  He only said that there was a new wolf of whom I should be aware.”  Before Liam could interrupt, Remus added, “And he told me that, I’m sure, to let me know werewolf restrictions would be heightened yet again as one of us had actually passed on the curse.”

 

“Us?” Liam looked over his shoulder at Remus.  “What do you know about it, mate?”

 

Remus gave a rather wan smile.  “Far more than I would like to know.”

 

The frown on Liam’s face started to fade as he realized what Remus meant.  His eyes darted down to the name badge on Remus’ chest and then back up to his face.  “You’re…you’re a werewolf?”

 

“Brilliant deduction.   Rather slow getting there, though.” 

 

Liam pulled his eyes away from Remus and leaned against the desk.  “You made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end when you came in the room.  I thought…I thought that meant you wanted to hurt me,” he said softly.

 

Remus arched an eyebrow at Liam.  “Well, you were being rather rude.  However that little uneasiness you felt at being in my presence is common when one werewolf meets another.”  Remus frowned.  “I would have thought that the Crowdens would have explained that.”

 

Liam shook his head.  “All they ever explained to me is that I have to have Wolfsbane Potion for the full moon and that I can’t travel without an approved visa.”

 

“Surely they told you more than that.”

 

“Everything else was just so much waffle.” He paused, and then said, “May have been my fault, though.  I wasn’t comfortable sitting around the table chewing the fat with them about …about…”  He sighed and looked at the floor again.

 

Remus spoke softly.  “Did you know the one who—“

 

Liam abruptly kicked the desk.  “Know him!  He was my best mate!”

 

“Your mate?  Do you mean your…”  Remus knew he was venturing into a possible argument again, but he had to ask.  “…your friend?”

 

“Yeah, my mate.”

 

He must not know about THAT either!

 

“Some friend, the wanker!”

 

Remus shot a glance at Mr. Williams.  “So then we know who did this.”

 

“Of course I know who bloody did this!  Oliver bloody Kent.  We’ve known each other since we were kids.  He took a year off after we finished school to travel.  He’d been through all of Eastern Europe.  Got his owl back in June to meet up in this wretched place.  He never told me he was…that he had a condition.  Not one bloody word!  But I came, and he attacked me.  I should have known something was up.  He kept talking about how we could do something really big…he wouldn’t say what, only that I’d understand soon.”

 

“Trouble is,” Mr. Williams added, “we can’t seem to find him.  He isn’t registered, so he can Apparate where ever he likes under the guise of an unaffected human.  We suspect he was bitten during his travels in Eastern Europe, and failed to disclose his condition upon entry to the country.   There’s been bloody hell to pay for this at customs, I understand.”

 

This certainly was cause for concern.  Information, like the man’s name and a photo of him, should be made known throughout wizarding and Muggle communities to make sure that he could not do what he had already done once.  Much as he hated the restrictions on werewolves, Remus hated more the thought that the curse might be passed on by an irresponsible man.  Remus found it particularly interesting that he hadn’t heard anything about a renegade werewolf on the news.  Was there more to this story than he wasn’t being told?  Was there something about this man that the Ministry of Magic didn’t want getting out?  He would have to speak with Arthur about it first chance he could.

 

“I can’t blame him for not registering,” Liam snorted.  “Lot of good it does any one.  If I’d had known that this bloody number would stop me from getting home, I wouldn’t have registered either!”

 

“You clearly don’t have much of an understanding of the implications of your condition,” noted Remus, sharply

 

“I don’t really give a stuff.”

 

“Lucky for you then, Mr. Zetter, that you didn’t have much of a choice,” wheezed Mr. Williams.  “As I recall, you were found wounded and very close to death.  Had the mediwitch not attended to you, you would have died.”

 

Liam rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, “I’m not convinced that would have been the worst of all options.”

 

Remus ignored the statement.  “Mr. Williams, why exactly have I been asked down here?”

 

“Ah, yes.  I’m surprised you didn’t ask me sooner.  You see, Mr. Zetter is unhappy with certain restrictions imposed on him by his conditions.”

 

“Damn right, I am.  I want to go home!  I’m sick of the bloody Crowdens, and I am sick of this bloody country, and I am sick of this bloody office, and I am sick of YOU!”

 

“Unfortunately” Mr. Williams continued, unfazed, “Mr. Zetter will be unable to obtain traveling papers until he has proven he understands and is capable of managing his condition.  Not only that, but The Department for Regulation and Control of Dangerous Creatures will need Mr. Zetter’s testimony if the renegade is located.  If Mr. Zetter leaves the country, we will lose our witness.”

 

“I don’t give a damn about your conviction rate.  I just want to go home!” 

 

Mr. Williams said nothing.

 

“And where do I fit in?” asked Remus, again ignoring the outburst from the young man.

 

“I was going to allow the lad to find a place of his own, since things are not working out with the Crowdens, and recommend he manage unsupervised until his trial.  However, I feel he needs someone he can learn from…ask questions of…in short, I’m asking you to be a sort of mentor for him while he waits for his attacker to be caught.”

 

Remus sized up the young man.  He looked mad and out of control.  Even though Remus understood the frustration the man was feeling, he didn’t think it a wise decision to allow this man freedom just yet.  He needed to be supervised.  There was so much he had to learn.  And Remus wasn’t even sure if this man would be able to fully adjust to his new life.

 

But everyone should at least be given a chance.

 

“All right.  I’ll do it.”

 

“Now hold on, mate.  Don’t I get a say in this?” Liam protested.

 

“No,” Remus and Mr. Williams said together. 

 

 

 

//
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