The missing years - part 1

I have no connection to the Wizarding World trademark, Warner Bros or J.K. Rowling, nor do I subscribe to any view she might share. This is fanfiction and nothing else, about my favourite character.

The long hours of waiting numbed him. He was sitting in a cold car, surrounded by greasy paper bags and empty paper cups. He wished he had brought a book, or that the radio wasn’t broken. He had cast “Reparo” on it, but nothing happened: apparently, spells couldn’t affect electronic Muggle inventions very well. He knew that the music would come from thin air, which wasn’t any less magical than spellcasting in his opinion, but it was the kind of magic of which he had no understanding. Maybe, come to think of it, that’s why the spells didn’t work.

He reached for the cupholder and took a sip of coffee. He grimaced, for it was cold. He grabbed his wand and poked the takeaway cup; the coffee was steaming hot all at once. He glanced in the rearview mirror, perhaps a little too late, to see if there was anyone around who shouldn’t have seen that, but only his own tired, dark-circled eyes looked back at him.

Remus Lupin sighed. Jobs like this were fine, compared to driving away bogarts or de-gnoming gardens, but that didn’t make them any less boring. Sitting and watching for hours to no end, followed by a minute of actual action, if at all. On the other hand, he could make as much as fifty galleons, should the Pembertons show up, an amount he considered a fortune these days. James always made sure that he never needed to worry about anything, but since… Since that night, Remus was on his own.

He missed them all. He missed James, his idealist bravery, the very thing that made him see the world in black and white. It was his biggest flaw and greatest feature at the same time, being so adamant about good and evil. What a good-hearted fool he was…

Remus missed Lily’s no-nonsense, practical thinking and gentle friendship just as much. And Peter’s loyalty, of course: one could always know where he stood with Peter.

And Sirius… He didn’t like to think about Sirius. He missed the boy he grew up with, the bright, sarcastic, lazy boy. He was so easily bored and even more easily distracted, as much a force of nature as a person. Remus couldn’t believe, to this day, though it happened years ago, that Sirius betrayed James. Sure, he was always somewhat malicious, but to serve Voldemort… It was not the Sirius Black Remus grew up with. That Sirius was dead, buried in the body of a traitor Remus refused to recognise.

Someone knocked on the window. Remus jerked awake and grabbed his wand again, but it was only an old lady. She had a tiny dog, who was snarling from behind her long skirt.

‘Can I help you, young man?’ she asked in a tone that made it very clear that helping was not on her agenda whatsoever.

‘I’m good, thank you,’ Remus said, holding the wand so the lady couldn’t see it from where she stood. He tried a smile, but he suspected it made him look drunk as opposed to trustworthy, which he was going for. The lady frowned at him.

‘Do you live here?’ she asked. The dog snarled even louder.

‘I’m just waiting for a friend,’ Remus said casually.

‘I think your friend might not come, considering that you’ve been sitting here for the last four hours,’ the lady said snarkily. She was very similar to her snarking little dog in that way. ‘Perhaps it’s time you went home. Go on!’

That was inconvenient. Sure, he could have used his wand, a brief charm would be enough to make her forget him, but strictly speaking, she didn’t see anything that would warrant a Memory Charm. A Confundus Charm would probably do the trick all the same, but he can’t just cast spells left and right on Muggles whenever he felt like it.

The dog started to bark. That was attention Remus didn’t need. He looked at the tiny thing, right in the eye, and it stopped barking: instead, he gave a kind of whine and pulled its head between its shoulders.

The old lady didn’t take that lightly.

‘What did you do to my dog?’ she shrieked.

Remus sighed. He won’t avoid using his wand, after all.

‘Look,’ he said, while casting the Confundus on her non-verbally, ‘I will be gone soon. You really needn’t worry about me. There is nothing going on that you should be concerned about. The best thing you can do is to go home and stay in tonight.’

She smiled hesitantly, then nodded.

‘Yes, yes, perhaps you’re right. My apologies. C’mon, Peanut, let’s go home, it’s cold outside,’ she didn’t need to pull on its leash, the dog was only too eager to leave.

As soon as they were out of sight, Remus raised his wand. First, he cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, then magicked the windows, too: they became slimy and hard to see through. Now nobody, not even if they push their noses to the glass, will see anything but an empty, dodgy car full of trash.

He should have done that right after he parked the car. It was reckless. and he got lucky that only a nosey old lady, and not the Pemberton brothers spotted him. In his defence, the full moon was drawing close. He always became distracted this time of the month. It was just somehow harder to concentrate. And much easier to get angry: that little dog was really dancing on his nerves. Maybe even more so than the old lady.

Remus took a deep breath and drank a bit of coffee. He hoped that nobody would see the levitating cup. He could have made it invisible, too, but he was afraid he’d forgotten where he put it. He was downright sloppy today.

A good night's sleep and a big, warm meal, were what he needed, but none could happen until the Pembertons showed up. He spent his last Muggle coins on the coffee and didn’t have a full galleon to his name either. He needed the money the Ministry offered for the pity criminals.

So he waited in silence, raising his wand from time to time to cast some warm air in the car. It wasn’t his, the car: he sort of borrowed it. It was just parked in a backstreet day and night without anyone ever using it, so Remus thought he would take it for a spin. The owner, if it had one, probably didn’t even notice it was missing. And Remus had every intention of giving it back. Only, the long suburban street the Pembertons chose to hide on had no coffee shops or restaurants or any other establishments from where he could have watched the house in question, so he needed a place to stay while on a stakeout.

The long afternoon hours dragged on slowly. The rain was on and off all day, and when it was drumming on the roof of the car, it made it especially difficult to stay awake. Remus drifted off a few times just to shake awake abruptly. The house across the road looked deserted. It had scaffolding all around and a pile of roof tiles were left abandoned in the front yard. They must have been there for a while now: instead of vivid red, they faded to pale orange.

Around seven, weak light appeared in the upstairs window. Nobody used the door, Remus would have seen that, and there was no back entrance. The Pemberton brothers must have apparated directly inside the house.

Remus opened the car door and got out of the car. The reason the Pembertons chose this neighbourhood was that it wasn’t a good one; that meant barely anyone around after dark. It came in handy for Remus now. The brothers will undoubtedly put up a fight, and fights were noisy. The last thing Remus needed was some Muggle policemen coming a-knocking, but in a street like this, it was unlikely that anyone would be bothered by some noise. They were used to it.

He was confident that he could take both of them, the Pembertons. They weren’t Death Eaters or anything; if they were, the Ministry wouldn’t have outsourced the job in the first place. No, Jack and Jake Pemberton were just small-time crooks, people who used magic to steal from Muggles one too many times. A slap on the wrist, most likely, was what they looked at, and maybe the mention of Azkaban, for good measure. After all, they only ever caused any trouble to Muggles.

Remus didn’t care, as long as he got paid. He was used to the hypocritical law system of the wizarding community: actual criminals, people who tortured and killed others walked free while he would be detained and put under surveillance for being a werewolf, should he choose to register as such. It was no surprise that crimes committed against Muggles would go mostly unpunished.

Now, he stretched: every inch of his body was cramped and sore after a whole day of sitting. His backbone cracked so loudly he was afraid it will give him away, though the Disillusionment Charm hid him from anyone who might be looking in his direction. Once the millions of tiny needles stopped bothering his muscles, he crossed the road. First, he cast a broad spell: it made it impossible to apparate or disapparate within its vicinity. A random Muggle house was surely not connected to the Floo Network, and Remus didn’t think that wizards who choose a career path of scamming Muggles would be any proficient at making portkeys. They could have brooms stashed somewhere, but Remus planned on taking them down before they could resort to fleeing anyway.

The front door was closed, but a briefly mumbled “Alohomora” solved the problem. Before he set foot in the house, he used another spell to see if there were any traps or alarms at the works but found nothing.

Whoever lived there before the Pembertons, left the place a long time ago. Dust covered every surface and what furniture remained was all broken and old-fashioned. Half of the windows were missing their glasses. On the left side, Remus saw a kitchen, with the cabinets open and empty, the old fridge missing its door. To his right a bathroom, with broken tiles on the wall and a cracked mirror. The whole house smelled of tired air, mould and unwashed things. It reminded him of the Shrieking Shack, after a few months of use.

He proceeded towards the stairs, but before he would climb them, he raised his wand and said: ‘Muffliato!’ That way, even if the stairs would creak, the Pembertons upstairs won’t hear a thing. His caution was warranted as the old stairs would have betrayed him indeed. By the time he reached the landing upstairs, he was sure the brothers heard him coming even with the charm buzzing in their ears.

He waited, wand pointed towards the dark corridor, but nothing happened. He didn’t light the tip, just waited until his eyes got accustomed to the semi-darkness.

The first room was empty, apart from an old and mouldy bed, a few television sets and radios, a white box Remus recognised as a microwave oven, an expensive-looking vase and a handful of jewellery. In a corner, leaned to the wall, a scruffed-looking broomstick. The Pembertons’ storage room, no doubt. Their modus operandi was to steal Muggle stuff, sell it to Muggle pawnshops and live on the money amongst Muggles, far away from the wizarding world. Quite simple, but effective: Muggles, of course, had no way of protecting themselves and their property from a wizard. If the Pembertons could have cast a decent Memory Charm, they might have gotten away with it entirely.

The second room was another bathroom, seemingly more frequently used, if not really cleaner than the one below. Remus was about to close the door quietly when another one opened, and yellow light flooded the area. He might have been hard to see, but the door moved very visibly indeed.

‘Hey, who’s there? Cantis!’

Remus ducked, unwilling to burst out singing. He pointed his wand but before he could cast anything, the other Pemberton brother showed up behind the first one, wand at the ready.

‘Revelio!’ he said. Remus felt his charm breaking, and even if he wouldn’t have, the curse aimed at his face would nevertheless tell him that he was visible once again.

‘Oppugno!’ he bellowed, and the bathroom door flung wide, slapping the incoming jet of light aside, then hitting one of the Pembertons hard in the face. He stumbled backwards and fell over his brother’s feet.

‘Flippendo!’

‘Depulso!’

The charms pushed the door in two different directions with such power that it cracked in the middle. The discharge of energy pushed both Remus and Jake Pemberton back, the latest now stumbling over his brother the same way Jack did just seconds ago. He managed to stay on his feet, however, and even sent another bolt of light towards Remus. It knocked him further back, and Remus collapsed into the wall behind. He was back on the landing. The air went out of his lungs and the world got dark for a moment. By the time he came back around, the Pembertons were steady on their feet again, turning on their heels. That, of course, was to no avail; Remus’ Anti-Apparation Jinx held.

‘What the…? Confringo!’

Remus was ready. The jinx exploded harmlessly on his Shield Charm, followed up by a Full Body-Bind Curse. It missed its target and was answered immediately: the Sectumsempra cut right through Remus’ already weakened shield and carved deeply into the wall next to him. It grazed his shoulder, too, but just about. Angrily, he stepped forward, dodged another hex or jinx and shot Jake with a stunner square in the chest. His body hadn’t hit the floor yet when Remus flicked his wand towards Jack. The wizard tried to step aside, but it was too late: his ankles, bound together by the Leg-Locker Curse, were not obeying him anymore. Instead, he wobbled a little, trying to keep his balance.

‘Expelliarmus!’ Remus said. The charm not only deprived Jack of his wand, but gave him the last little push, too, and he finally fell over.

‘Listen, friend, we can talk about this. We have money, I’m sure we could figure out some…’

‘Langlock!’ Remus said casually, as he collected the wands of the brothers. Jack gave a weird noise, half choking, half grunting, as his tongue stuck to his palate mid-word.

Now, for the formalities, Remus thought. He pulled out a scroll of parchment from an inside pocket of his jacket and folded it out against the wall. It was already half full of short massages in various ink colours. He tapped it with his wand and an address appeared on the paper, followed by the name Pemberton. An answer showed up almost right away, just a word: “coming”. While he was busy with that, Jack Pemberton was trashing around, trying to get to his feet. Remus wasn’t sure what he was planning on doing with no wand and no ability to speak or walk, but he magicked a heavy pair of handcuffs on him, just in case. That seemed to take the wind out of Jack’s sails.

‘Your enthusiasm is admirable,’ Remus said. ‘But the officers of DMLE are on their way. That reminds me…’ he lifted his wand and undid the Anti-Apparation Jinx. Only seconds later, three people showed up on the landing, with three audible pops. Two of them were wearing matching robes, while the third was a tall man with mane-like hair and yellow eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. All three of them had their wands ready.

‘The job was to claim information of their whereabouts, Lupin, not to capture them,’ said Rufus Scrimgeour after a brief look over the scene. ‘You are a civilian with no jurisdiction whatsoever.’

Remus shrugged.

‘Last time I did that the perps were gone by the time your men got there and I didn’t get paid. I’m not doing this out of love for the Ministry, you see.’

‘You can always sign up,’ the young witch of the Magical Law Enforcement unit said. ‘If you want to get paid for being in trouble...’

They knew each other, sort of, through situations like this. Remus had the feeling that the witch wouldn’t necessarily say no if he was to ask her out, but that was quite nonsense. Wouldn’t be fair to her, at the very least.

‘I don’t like 9 to 5,’ Remus smiled while the officer passed him to grab Jake Pemberton.

‘You’re bleeding,’ she said, frowning, stopping next to him. ‘Episkey!’

Nothing happened. She tried it again.

‘Don’t bother,’ Remus sighed. ‘They used Sectumsempra. It will heal eventually by itself.’

‘You’re lucky it didn’t cut your arm off,’ growled Scrimgeour. ‘Do you have any idea how much paperwork that would be for me? Here,’ he took out a small pouch of money and threw it to Remus. ‘Take it and get the hell out of here before I arrest you.’

Remus scoffed and looked at the young witch who rolled her eyes.

‘Always a pleasure, Rufus,’ he said and walked away, out of the house to return the not-so-stolen car.