Chapter Twenty-Four - The Shrieking Shack

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Word Count: 3,116.

Warnings: None.

There was a ringing silence. I froze, taking in Hermione's words. I knew he wasn't good enough at hiding it. I knew that someone was bound to find out. Why not little Miss Perfect herself? Everyone's eyes turned on Lupin who looked remarkably calm, though rather pale.

"Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione," he said. "Only two out of three I'm afraid. I have been helping him into the castle, but not to terrorize anyone. That was him being a little too careless." Moony shot Sirius a look. "But I certainly don't want Harry dead..." An odd shiver passed over his face. "And I won't deny that I am a werewolf." I sighed, watching as the three students stood appalled.

Ron made a valiant effort to get up again but fell back with a whimper of pain. Lupin made towards him, looking concerned, but Ron gasped, "Get away from me werewolf!"

Lupin stopped dead. I shot my head towards the Weasley boy. "You little son of a –"

"You knew?" Harry asked, my gaze turning to him.

"I've lived with the man my entire life. Of course I know he's a fucking werewolf Potter!" I was angered now. Harry flinched slightly.

"How long have you known?" Lupin cut in, directing his question at the bushy haired brunette.

"Ages," Hermione whispered. "Since I did Professor Snape's essay..."

I scoffed, sending her a hard glare. "You really like that teacher, don't you?" I asked, being met by her ignorance again.

"He'll be delighted," said Lupin coolly. "He set that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant. Did you check the lunar chart and realize that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realize that the Boggart changed into a moon when it saw me?"

"Both," Hermione said quietly. I laughed, shaking my head.

Lupin forced a laugh. "You're the cleverest witch of your age that I've met Hermione."

"Hey," I shot, offended. Lupin looked at me with a blank expression.

"You said you wanted honestly."

"I wanted you to be honest, not brutal."

"I'm not," Hermione cut in, forgetting my statement. "The cleverest. If I'd have been a bit cleverer, I would have told everyone what you are!"

"Over my dead body!" I snapped. Hermione looked at me this time, fear washing over her face.

"But they already know," said Lupin, the girl's attention turning. "At least, the staff do."

"Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewolf?" Ron gasped. "Is he mad?"

"Dumbledore may be a right git, but he's not mad." I muttered in response.

"Some of the staff thought so," said Lupin. "He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy –"

"AND HE WAS WRONG!" Harry yelled. "YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM THIS ENTIRE TIME!" He was pointing at my father who crossed to the four-poster bed and sunk onto it. I quickly followed him, sitting beside the frail man.

"Are you alright?" I asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He nodded. "Tired. Really tired." He managed, his voice croaky. He took my hand in his, rubbing his thumb gently along my palm.

"The map." I heard Lupin speak. "The Marauders Map. I was in my office examining it –"

"You know how to work it?" Harry said suspiciously.

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