Mischief Managed Year One: Mayhem of the Moon

Chapter Twelve- The Truth and Remorse

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Remus spent a long time dwelling in silence on his father's betrayal. Meanwhile, the headmaster busied himself sorting through his tin of lemon drops appearing to be sorting them by size. His thoughts were beginning to spiral into a very dark place when a squawk jolted him out of his trance. Remus glanced at Dumbledore, shocked, and the man smiled at him.

"It seems Fawkes has woken up from her nap," the headmaster pointed out casually as he gestured behind Remus. Turning in his seat, Remus spotted a gorgeous bird about the size of a swan that appeared to be made up of flames! Looking closer, Remus realized the bird's ruffling crimson and gold feathers gave the creature the appearance of being on fire.

Remus stared in awe as the creature tilted its head, regarding him carefully. He could feel some of the tension leave his shoulders as staring at the bird calmed him down some. The timing of the bird's call seemed a little too perfect to be a coincidence, but Remus didn't linger on this. Instead, he just watched the fire-colored feathers move with each tiny breath of the peculiar bird.

As Remus continued to calm down even more he realized Dumbledore was right about Lyall. Remus didn't want to risk his father not wanting him back. Besides, his father had cared for a werewolf all these years. Lyall Lupin deserved a medal, not his son's judgment. Remus felt he had no right to be angry with his father. Especially because if Dumbledore was right, then Lyall Lupin truly thought he had Remus' best interest at heart.

Remus didn't know how long he and Fawks eyed one another in mutual respect. He took in all the details of the bird from the long gold talons to the tail feathers long as a peacock in utter awe. Then Dumbledore cleared his throat, and Remus was forced to turn back and face his headmaster's sad eyes that seemed to pierce his soul.

"Now, about this letter, you wrote," Dumbledore began in a businesslike manner. Remus resisted the urge to squirm in his seat at the mention. Dumbledore held the vile letter up to the light for Remus to see and waved his wand. As soon as the wand passed over Remus' handwriting, the neat recognizable scrawl transformed into a much messier, angrier penmanship.

Remus gasped and felt really stupid. He didn't have enough trust in himself to know he hadn't written the nasty letters! It was a shameful thought, knowing you couldn't trust yourself. But Remus supposed it was better than being too lax. Besides, it made sense Remus didn't trust himself, given the lies he had been told for years.

Remus sighed heavily, feeling overwhelmed. Deep down Remus knew that this revelation should cheer him up and fill him with relief. Instead, he felt tired and weighed down. It didn't help that he hadn't been sleeping well since coming here, and the stress and strain of the past few weeks felt like it was crushing him. He hadn't realized he had hunched over as if there really was a physical weight on his shoulders until Dumbledore cleared his throat, drawing Remus' attention back to him.

"I apologize this went on for so long. I had heard whispers, but I chalked them up to petty roommate squabbles. Recently, Sirius' actions against you have come into the light and I must admit this explains quite a lot," Dumbledore continued as if Remus hadn't just zoned out yet again, easily lost in his many thoughts.

"Who did this, sir?... Professor Dumbledore, sir...?" Remus asked tentatively.

Dumbledore gave him a sad smile, but seemed to think even if he corrected Remus' overuse of manners it wouldn't make a difference at the moment. It was a correct assumption.

"I'm afraid I cannot say. It was an older student, quite advanced with their magic. I suppose Sirius might be able to shed some more light on the subject. Yes, I do believe this has gone on long enough," Dumbledor mused quietly, seeming to be talking more to himself than Remus now.