A Dark Time For The Light

68

The nights were long and the days were short, louring and deep grey, filled with freezing rain as the year turned. New Year’s day and the boys rose to find their guests in the kitchen enjoying a kiss as the toast burned. Draco wanted to hit the Sales but Harry wanted to go to the pub, “I can’t be arsed fighting with all of the other shoppers, Dragon. C’mon, let’s go and have a few frames with the lads”. So the pub it was.

The other two accompanied them for a short while then left for home. Severus couldn’t have more than two pints anyway to keep within the law. Dean was there keeping his girlfriend company sitting on a stool by the bar. Draco muttered, “I thought he and Colin looked good together, shame really”. Harry grinned as he assembled his cue, “Dean was always straight, really. I’m glad he experimented. He seemed to enjoy it. I never heard of him doing anything remotely gay at school, though I know Seamus had a massive crush on him in sixth year”. Draco shrugged, “What’s not to crush on, he’s a loss to our side”. That earned him a sharp look from Harry, “Having a little crushette of our own, my love?”. Draco sighed and smiled, “No, it just seems a shame, that’s all. All the best looking guys should be queer”. Harry laughed aloud and stepped up to the table where Frank waited to give him a game.

Sometime in the mid-afternoon and the girls wandered in, bought drinks and drifted into the games room, Ginny had her cue with her. She challenged Harry to a game and proceeded to wipe the floor with him walking away with a break of 102. Harry threw up his hands and challenged her to a best-of-three. She was totally focussed at the table and took her sweet time. One of the older men remarked that she was more of a Cliff Thorburn than an Alex Higgins, slow and lethally methodical. Harry was stunned at her progress since she had started playing for the Ladies team.

Hermione leaned into Draco as Ginny was once more making mincemeat of Harry and whispered, “She’s come on, hasn’t she?”. Draco coughed in astonishment and had to agree, “She’s stunning, a real natural, and doesn’t let the audience distract her”. Various of the men now watching were, naturally, cheering Harry on as a member of their team, but all were taken aback by the tall skinny redhead’s performance at the table. Where Harry was a bit of a klutz using the rest, to Ginny it was like an extension of her left arm. To prove that her first game hadn’t been a fluke, she once again walked away with a score of over 100 points, smirking and blowing over the tip of her cue as if over a smoking gun.

She took on John next. A man who played with a style nearer her own, slow and considered, not fast and brash. After a frame lasting over an hour where each tried to hide the balls from each other needing snookers and a great deal of clever safety play, Ginny once again left the table a victor. She put her hands up, she’d had enough for now and joined her friends sinking two pints really quickly. In short order, Frank pulled up a stool to the young folk’s table. “You should play professionally”, he stated baldly, looking straight at Ginny, “You’re bloody good and you don’t let anything rattle you and at the moment I don’t think there’s anyone who could touch you on the England squad. Seriously”, as he saw the raised eyebrows around him.

He patted her shoulder and rose, “I’ll talk to the missus”, then left their table to dropped jaws. Harry rubbed Ginny’s back to bring her round, “You really are good, you know. I mean, you didn’t just beat us, you hammered us, and I bet you could equally hammer anyone else in this room”. The girl just shook her head and started in on her third pint.

The boys carried on playing and Draco acquitted himself well against Frank, then Harry played his lover ending on a black ball finish. After 3 ½ pints, Ginny was challenged back to the table. A man none of them knew, a tall Jamaican with knee-length dreads tied back with a red gold and green sweatband. If she felt unsteady, she didn’t show it and accepted the challenge gracefully, then with all the poise she’d shown previously, she broke the man’s game into a million pieces. They shook hands, “You’re good, child, you could earn real money wi’ this”. She stood there, her hands steepled over the tip of her cue gazing challengingly at the other punters ranged around, but no-one else stepped up. She sighed, shrugged and sat down again, dismantling her cue. She kissed each half and stowed it away.

The pub closed at three and the six separated, each to their own homes, with Belinda accompanying Dean. Harry and Draco spent a quiet afternoon watching naff movies and making love on the sofa. The House was also fairly quiet and Dean finally got to spend a night with his new lady, her husband being on the night shift over New Year.

As the year haltingly started, Hermione was busy at the computer, sorting out the database she was building of demi-magiques who had now been dowsed and passed and trying to organise some sort of classes timetable. She realised, with a sigh, that she was going to have to discriminate just like Hogwarts had done and this idea made her radical spirit revolt. She warred with her own conscience over this, but in a war you need the most capable soldiers. Between her and Pansy in Manchester, they could probably take on 400 pupils. Rosalba Sinistra had moved to the Manchester cadre to help. Over Christmas Pomona Sprout had been passed into the Leeds cadre, but because of the noise and the exuberant youth, she had re-located to Liverpool. She had no idea what her most able ex-pupil was up to in two long tubes of polythene north of the border.

Severus also lent his time, but Remus stayed in the background. They had confirmed their fears. Remus did indeed have a stage 2 Melanoma and required supplementary medical help other than surgery. He was booked in for a biopsy straight away to assess the extent of the damage. That weekend Poppy came south. She was met from the train by Severus and they made their way to the mens’ flat by cab. Poppy had several large carpet-bags with her full of stuff she’d managed to save before she ran herself.

They booked her into a nearby bed and breakfast. A clean cosy establishment with a friendly landlady who dropped the price when she realised her client was a nurse and that she was in London to care for someone sick, as she herself had nursed until her retirement, Severus insisted on settling Poppy’s bills and they thrashed out a salary. Once Poppy learned what was wrong with Remus, she insisted that she stay for the duration. “I may have to help during your changes. I’m no veterinarian, but I do know that canines are afflicted the same way sometimes. Once we know your treatment regimen, then I can help balance the Magical with the Mundane treatment methods, but I will need Potion ingredients”.

Hermione was fretting. She was stressing over her class schedules, trying to put together a structured crash-course for the new folk. There wouldn’t be time to even teach the theory of Care of Magical Creatures, for example, but their fellow Magicals needed at least a rudimentary introduction. Several already had some knowledge of Astronomy, and, sadly, even more had knowledge of Divination, since an ersatz version of the skills were widely available to Mundanes, albeit that most of the practitioners were complete charlatans.

This was an army they were training, so unfortunately, the long and considered skill of Potions was also off the curriculum. This mainly left them with Charms, Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts. There would be duelling practice and general Wandcraft. There had to be a smattering of History of Magic too, to root the experiences in their history. There was a side-course that Hermione was compiling by herself, Magicals in the Mundane world, and a history of the battle against Voldemort. She had no intentions of coddling folk, this was why they were needed.

She was now in regular contact with Pansy in Manchester. There was another contingent coming at the weekend to select wands, with a list of the rest of the cadre’s previous wands to try and pick out similar for their co-warriors. She e-mailed them with her rough outlines for a curriculum which met with approval from their end. Manchester may not have as adept teachers as London did, but there were some good Magicals there. She fired other e-mails to Liverpool, Leeds and Kilmarnock to outline the practice schedule once it had been agreed and invited those who wished to practice again to contact London to arrange to select a wand. She emphasised, though, that the training sessions were mainly for the newcomers to their ranks.

She published a list of the London classes by the end of January. By the first week in February, all of the classes were heavily over-subscribed. With Severus’ help and Alastor’s input, they accepted the Bunkers first teaching roster. There were to be five evening classes for those that worked normal business hours, and three day classes on a Monday, Wednesday and Friday for those that couldn’t get to the evening classes. Hermione had agreed to teach the History classes and leave practical Magic to Severus and Tonks was to take the Transfiguration classes until Minerva had moved back to London.

It was rapidly becoming obvious that the London cadre needed more room. Folk were dropping in and out from the other cadres with regularity. They were supporting Minerva and Poppy in hotels. It was then that Hermione mooted renting another house. “It’ll be cheaper than shelling out for hotels and stuff and we can put folk up there instead of having random strangers all over the floors here”. This met with general agreement, and the next day, Hermione contacted the landlord of their house. He seemed a good sort and a good place to start.

Using the cadre’s money stash, in a matter of a fortnight, she was inking the agreement for a delapidated six bedroom property that had been three flats, but hadn’t yet been de-converted, giving three bathrooms and kitchens. Hussain had intended doing the place up and re-letting it, but he trusted Harry and his friends and had had not a word of complaint about them. They paid on time and in advance, too, so he shrugged and made a good deal. The huge property he let go for a grand a month. Well below it’s market value, but it did need work and he knew these kids had already decorated the properties they already rented and were taking care of them, not to mention that they seemed happy with slightly sub-standard properties, storage heaters instead of central heating, immersion heaters you had to time, and hideously retro kitchens that other renters would have turned their noses up at.

The same week Hermione was deep in property deals, Remus was admitted to hospital for his surgery. In the event, and to be on the safe side, the surgeon performed a wide local excision, then a skin graft from his upper thigh to cover the wound. Remus was in a lot of pain and discomfort but awake when his beloved came to visit that night after work, his arm full of flowers. He noticed the pain in his lover’s face and called the nurse over. She bustled around him, “Mr Lupin, you need to just press that button and pain medication will be delivered through your drip, sir. You should not let yourself feel pain”. She showed him how to do it and Severus watched as Remus’ face relaxed. “Now, I’ll just run and find vases for these lovely flowers and leave you two alone”. She left.

Severus sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. Remus managed a stoned, lopsided smile. “Come and hold me, Sev. I need you”. And so he did, kicking off his shoes and stretching himself out full length before taking his beloved in his arms, “Tell me where it hurts, love”. “Don’t touch anywhere near the dressing and I’ll be fine. I just feel as if a herd of centaurs rode over me. Gods, Sev, kiss me”. Severus chuckled and complied, “Mmm, you taste of this place, but underneath it all is still my Wolf”. They were interrupted by a junior nurse bringing in the flowers. She saw them kissing and hesitated, “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll just...”, and was backing out of the room. Remus beckoned her in and she placed the vase on the bedside table. “Doctor wants to see you in a short while, Mr Lupin”. She addressed Severus, “Would you be staying with your partner, sir?, only we’ll have to move an extra bed in. It’s quite all right. Hospital policy. Loved ones help the poorly mend faster, but we’ll need to let the orderlies know before the change of shift. Just let me know, okay?”, she smiled shyly at the two men and closed the door as she went out.

“Would you like me to stay?”, Severus asked placing kisses in his lover’s hair as he held him. “You need to be at home, love, you’ve got to be at work tomorrow”. Severus chuckled, “You evasive Gryffindor. That didn’t answer my question”. Remus looked up into his lover’s face and nodded. “Please, baby, this place is just too strange and it smells weird”. Severus stood up carefully disentangling himself. “I need to nip home and get some clean clothes for tomorrow and some shower stuff. Is there anything you need me to bring back?”. Remus smiled widely, “Yeah, bring the book we’re reading”. Severus blew him a kiss and exited. He sought out the young nurse and requested a bed be moved into Remus’ room.

There were a load of messages on his answering machine as he let himself in. He ignored the blinking light, packed a few toiletries and clothes and books, plus his marking and headed out again. He arrived back as the evening meal was being served. He’d heard all sorts of horror stories about NHS food but the meal they shared was surprisingly good. He’d bought some fruit from a late night store on the way over and insisted Remus ate some. He grinned inwardly to see Remus’ appetite, which had been scanty of late.

The doctor made his rounds after dinner and asked to speak to Severus alone. “Well, Mr Snape, the operation went well and your partner has responded well so far to treatmernt. I will own to being a tad mystified at some of his test results, though”. Severus’ tone was dry, “Oh, and how so?”, he quirked a brow at the shorter man. “Well”, the man fumbled for words. “I don’t quite know how to put this, erm, is Mr Lupin a Magical person?”. The man’s blush was intense, “Only there’s something not quite human about him and I took the liberty of, erm, dowsing him, and I’m reading werewolf”.

Severus reeled at this, his eyes wide. They regarded each other warily, then the doctor leaned forward, “I was at Hogwart’s in the late 50’s, but I’m a Muggle-born. I never did any training at St. Mungo’s, there was never an opening, so I switched to Muggle medicine as healing was always my calling. Potions and Herbology were my two strongest subjects”. On an impulse, Severus dragged the man into a hug. “I was the Potions Master there until the Final Debacle caused us all to run”. The man hugged back. “I have friends in hiding in Liverpool and Kilmarnock, but as I have been a practicing Muggle for many years I presumed that I had fallen through the cracks, so I didn’t run”.

He drew away from the impromptu embrace and was all business once more, “I’m your partner’s consulting physician and there are Potions that he will need as well as the chemotherapy, also a special growth salve to prevent the skin graft from tearing. When is he next due to transform?” Severus was almost overcome with shock and sagged against the wall. The doctor placed his hand under Severus’ elbow and led him to a row of chairs in the corridor. He sat, heavily. “Merlin, I’m so glad that you’re his doctor. I don’t know how I would have explained it otherwise”, he ran a hand through his hair. “What does this mean for his treatment options?”. They had a lengthy discussion, Severus more relaxed now that Remus’ main medic knew the truth. He let himself back into the small room to find his beloved fast asleep. There was a bed pushed up to his lover’s, but Severus drew them apart, then stripped and slid in next to Remus, all warm and sleepy and fell asleep teetering on the brink of falling out of bed all night, all sweaty because the hospital was overheated and because of the crackly, rustly plastic mattress cover. He had remembered his small alarm clock, set it, and fell asleep to it’s familiar soft tick.