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Doing a Study


“Have a licorice snap,” Dumbledore offered, waving his palm at a bowl of wriggling licorice candies on his desk. “Though I warn you, they’re a rather sharp lot.”

Ned Veigler glanced at the sharp teeth of the licorice snaps and sat in the chair across from the Headmaster’s desk without taking one - he was in enough pain without adding to it a nasty nip from a bit of licorice. Newt Scamander, however, took one up as he flumped into his own seat, interestedly studying it, even as it snapped and tried at biting nose.

Dumbledore sat behind the desk and he leaned back, lacing his fingers over his chest. “I’ve ordered for an elf to fetch Remus Lupin,” the headmaster explained, “He should be along shortly.” He watched as Newt lost control of his licorice snap and the vicious little candy only just missed catching the magizoologist’s nose as Newt ducked and the snap landed pathetically on the floor behind his desk, having spent its magical energy on the jump. Dumbledore’s eyes turned to Ned Veigler. “And how has the renovations of Fallengunder been coming along?”

“They were going rather well until recently,” Ned answered. “The past few days has been rather rough, however… Which is why we’re here.” He glanced a Newt, unsure how much Mr. Scamander had already told Dumbledore of their purpose for visiting.

“Have you heard from - from any others?” Newt stammered, recovering from the near-miss with the Licorice Snap. For all his brushes with truly dangerous magical creatures, the snap had given him quite the turn.

“I have very few relations with other werewovles,” Dumbledore replied, “And there is little news of them throughout the magical community due to the taboo nature of the condition…”

There came a knock upon the door at that moment and Dumbledore waved his palm, unlocking and opening the door easily - and there stood Remus Lupin. His hair was disheveled and his shirt half untucked, but Dumbledore’s smile was wide as we waved the boy in, “Welcome, welcome, Master Lupin,” the headmaster said, his eyes twinkling.

“Hullo,” Remus replied, and he limped through the door, which closed behind him with a wave of Dumbledore’s palm. Remus glanced back at the door, and then turned back and realized who it was sitting in the seats before Dumbledore’s desk. “Professor Veigler! Mr. Scamander!” he said, his voice carrying as much excitement as it could given his condition. He struggled to hurry forward and give the pair of them each a hug before Dumbledore conjured another chair for him to sit in on the opposite side of Newt. “What are you lot doing here, at Hogwarts?” Remus asked, realizing that Ned and Newt hardly had a thing to do with their most recent adventures at Durmstrang, rescuing James Potter.

Newt’s eyes were gentle. “I got a - a uh, a letter. From your friend. From Sirius - Sirius Black,” Newt said. And he reached into his coat pocket and produced a small scroll that did, indeed, have Sirius’s messy scrawl across it. “He - he was concerned about your condition, with the moon not yet at it’s full status and -- uh - and your health de-declining as though it were…”

“I, too, have been experiencing it,” Ned filled in. “Newt contacted me immediately and we came to see you, to see Dumbledore --” Ned turned to the headmaster, “To see if there was anything that we, between the four of us, might know of that could be causing the effects…”

In spite of himself, a bit of relief trembled through Remus. “It isn’t just me, then?”

Ned shook his head, “Not at all, Remus.”

“And we’re going to help to figure it out and stop the pains from bothering you both,” Dumbledore supplied. He waved his wand and a teapot with four cups on saucers appeared and began to pour itself out. Remus thought it might be aconite tea, but it was plain tea instead and Dumbledore magicked a bit of milk into his. “Now, Mr. Lupin, when did you begin to feel the pains?” Dumbledore asked patiently.

Remus considered. “I suppose it never truly went away after the last full moon,” he replied at last, “I’ve been sort of sore the whole time, just going north sort of… made it worse. I reckoned at first that it was just getting worse because of the long trip to Havmork in the Morris Mini. Not at lot of space, you see, especially with all of us jammed in, but - it’d been quite bad before that, even. As though the full moon were just about to happen. I could feel my cells burning like they wanted to turn.”

Ned Veigler spoke up, “A steady downward spiral,” he said, “Nothing that occurred all at once for me, neither. Just gradual pains and aches becoming worse and worse…”

Remus nodded.

Dumbledore rubbed his chin. “Have you ever heard of such a thing, Mr. Scamander?” he asked.

Newt shook his head, biting his lower lip with his over-large front teeth, his thoughts racing so hard the others could nearly see them behind the light of his eyes. “I thought at first - perhaps - something to - uh - to perhap an - a lunar eclipse or something of the sort, but there’s nothing at this time…” He looked quite anxiously about from Dumbledore to Remus to Ned and his knee jogged up and down nervously as he continued to fumble. “But the closest was the pre-prenumbral in November - nothing - nothing again until - April --”

Dumbledore rose and walked across the room to a tall cabinet, opening the doors and revealing a shimmering bowl of mirror-like liquid that spun and gleamed against the walls of the cupboard in which it was stored. He leaned against the bowl a moment before reaching his wand to his temple, pressing against the skin just below his hairline, his face screwed up as though intently concentrating. It when when he drew the wand away - carrying a shivering silver strand - that Remus recognized the bowl to be a pensieve and Dumbledore dropped the strand into a bottle that had flown to him through the air, uncorking itself as he lowered the memory into it. He reached up and pushed the stopper into the neck of the bottle, letting it rest in his palm a moment as he stared down at it, musing.

“We will, no doubt, need to work at getting to the bottom of this,” he murmured, eyes never leaving the bottle. After another moment’s pause, he placed it on the shelf, and with a flick of his wand, a label appeared, seeming to melt into existence out of the bottle’s surface, and Dumbledore closed the cabinet doors once more. He turned back to look at Remus, Ned, and Newt. “For the time being, for your safety, I will request that you, Mr. Veigler, please stay with us here at Hogwarts. I shall have one of the elves freshen a guest chamber for you…”

Ned looked concerned, “But I’ve things to take care of at Fallengunder - my kneazle for one --”

“Shall be well taken care of by Mr. Scamander, I am sure,” Dumbledore interrupted firmly. “However, I must insist that you stay in the safety of Hogwarts until further investigations have been made into the nature of this phenomenon.”

Ned’s mouth was a tight line.

Despite Ned’s clear disapproval, Remus couldn’t help but feel a shock of excitement shiver through him. Having Professor Veigler on the grounds of Hogwarts once again was something that Remus had often wished for since third year, and he was wholly pleased that Dumbledore was insisting. It would be nice to be able to go and visit with the man who Remus Lupin considered his greatest mentor. He pictured afternoon tea - with aconite leaves floating in china cups - and he had all he could do to suppress the smile the idea of it brought to him.

Newt looked up, “I - I do have a friend - at the Department of Potion Development - that’s been working on an aconite potion - the Wolfsbane, as you’ve heard tell of it,” he stammered. He licked his lips, “Perhaps - doing a study - I mean, certainly it would - would be of help to have - volunteers - folks willing to - to test the potion…” he glanced at Ned and Remus, then back to Dumbledore, “Perhaps as part of the study…? I’ve heard only good things of the potion… might help to… to keep the symptoms at bay?”

Dumbledore’s hand slid over Fawke’s feathers as he moved away from the cabinet and back towards his desk.

“But they’ll need to know who I am to conduct the study,” Remus pointed out, “And werewolves aren’t allowed to attend school. They’ll know that I am and I’ll have to be expelled and --”

“I would never allow for you to be expelled, Master Lupin,” Dumbledore’s voice was low. “Whatever the Ministry commanded.”

There was a resonating relief that hung in the air following the weight of Dumbledore’s declaration, and Remus swallowed back his urge to jump up and hug the headmaster.

“If I were to agree to assist in administering the potion - I - I don’t think that my friend would, uh, would fight off any, uh, anonymous results that I was, uh, able to - to provide him with,” Newt offered.

Dumbledore looked pleased, “And there you have it, Mr. Lupin… Mr. Veigler.” He sat down in his chair and nodded at Newt, “Mr. Scamander, if you will get in touch with your man at the Ministry as quickly as possible - that would be well advised. The sooner we can alleviate our friends miseries, the better, wouldn’t you agree?”

Newt Scamander nodded.

Dumbledore clapped his hands and with a pop that made Remus and Ned jump in surprise, the house elf from the passageway before appeared on Dumbledore’s desk, bowing so lowly that his nose and great ears touched the desktop. “Yes, Mr. Dumbledore, sir?” the elf asked, looking up at the headmaster with adoring eyes.

“Twiddle, I will request of you to prep a room and show our guest, Mr. Viegler, the way, please. Additionally, if you will, see to it that aconite is acquired from Professor Slughorn’s stores and is provided to Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing, tell her that we are in need of her old skills, and she will know to what I refer.”

“Yes Mr. Dumbledore, sir,” the elf replied, and she turned to look at Ned and, jumping from the desk, he grabbed onto Ned Veigler’s hand and said, “Right this way, Mr. Veigler, sir, Twiddle is be seeing you to your room, Mr. Veigler, sir.”

Ned rose - though he looked like he wanted to pause to say something else to Dumbledore, he changed his mind - and followed the house elf out of the room.

Newt turned to Dumbledore after watching the door close behind Mr. Veigler. “I could have taken him,” he said, “Into the case, you know.”

Dumbledore mused, “You’ve a child… and a baby… to look out for… And do watch Bradley as well come the full moon. Please alert me if any signs --”

“Of - of course, sir,” Newt Scamander nodded.

“Now go and speak to your friend at the Ministry,” Dumbledore commanded, “And you - Mr. Lupin - off to bed with you.”

Remus nodded, “Yes sir.” He stood up and followed Newt, who grabbed up his briefcase from the floor and headed for the stairwell outside Dumbledore’s office. Remus paused in the door, “Sir. Is James alright?”

“Healing, in the hospital wing,” Dumbledore said, “But whole. At least physically. We have yet to see the effects this shall have otherwise.”

Remus paused, leaning against the jam for support. “Is there anything that we lot can do to - to help him?” he inquired.

Dumbledore replied, “Simply have patience and understanding. There is an old rite called sitting shiva - have you heard of it?”

Remus shook his head.

“It is a Hebrew rite - in which one must simply sit by the side of another who is suffering and the pain is shared. No words are spoken, it is a time of processing the suffering before the healing can begin… it can take a good deal of time - the heavier the weight of the suffering, the longer the shiva will endure.... A good deal of patience and understanding must be offered by those who wish to sit shiva with another… this time cannot be rushed through, or else the healing shall never fully complete, the heart shall never be mended properly...” Dumbledore paused. “I recommend that the Marauders be prepared to sit shiva.”

Remus nodded. “Yes sir. We will.”