lupercusna: (I'm serious.)
Madam Pince insisted on taking back the library today, perhaps so that she can harass the seventh-years one last time, so I have enjoyed a very lazy morning waking up with the sun but having a lie-in until Sirius had to get up and go give exams. After that it was a cup of tea on the stove and - for no reason at all - the guitar Lily had got me for when we left school. Somehow I've managed to hold on to it all these years, it goes with me wherever I go. I'm completely crap at it, terribly rusty, but it was nice to sit and play a bit. I still remember the old airs she taught me when we were still students, lullabies she sang to Harry when he was small. I swear, I can hear Lily's voice in the strings on this old guitar.

I have gone on a bit about James here but not so much about Lily. She was my friend first, truth be told, and she was my friend last before she died. Sirius and James weren't speaking to me by then, convinced I'd gone traitor on them, but Lily had faith. I don't know why she believed in me but she did, and I didn't question it. We took tea together on the sly, when James and Sirius were off trying to save the world. Those were good mornings of yellow sunlight in her kitchen and camomile tea, and the daffodils she insisted on always keeping in a green jar on the table. I always found it sweet, that girl called Lily who loved daffodils.

Anyway, I was reminded of those mornings on this one, because all the tea I have left at the moment is camomile, and Lily's guitar in my hands. I miss that little kitchen, half-Muggle and half not, and Harry at our feet. He's grown now, leaving school, fine figure of a man that he is, and those days seem more far away than they ever have before. And here I am, back in Hogwarts, an old man with my old man, forgiven and forgotten and the summer stretching on ahead, full and long days.

And somewhere else, Lily's in her garden, tending her daffodils and singing her songs to herself. Though, I will always be listening for her.

Sirius, I was thinking that perhaps we should spend the summer in Amsterdam. Harry, what do you think? I have always wanted to show you the Jordaan. It's my favourite neighbourhood in the city. I think you'd both enjoy it.

The tea is nearly gone and the embers are dying. I think it is time for me to go and find the day.
lupercusna: (I solemnly swear.)
Exams begin next week, and the library is absolutely teeming with worried expressions, sleep-deprivation (though nothing approaching the magifnicent delirium of Draco and Millicent) and panic attacks. Friday evening I escorted two fifth-year Hufflepuff to Poppy after they began gnawing at their books. I have to start keeping Sugar Quills on hand to slip to the ones who look like they're just about to snap.

No word of Peter, no sign nor hide nor hair nor worm-like tail of rat to be found. I have had a few owls on the subject, none of them bearing any sort of news at all. No news is never good news, in times of war, but unfortunately it leaves me in a rather useless position of not being able to do anything but worry, and wonder. And I have really no interest in doing that all of the time, so I have just instructed Harry to never let his wand out of his sight in the hopes that he will never be caught offguard. We can only wait and see, at this point.

Speaking of Harry, he and Sirius spent last night working on his motorbike. I don't know what they were doing to it, tightening grommets and clanking spanners about, Muggle devices, haven't a clue where Sirius got his hands on them. They seemed to have a good time, and they returned far too late covered in motor oil and laughing about some dirty joke or another. I read my books and finished off some overdue correspondence, because they certainly didn't need me around mucking up their fun. At any rate, I love to see them spend more time together, the two of them. Sirius has become an excellent dogfather.

I took a walk today, in the woodsy area on the other side of the lake. From there you can see for miles, and there's a spot (you may remember it, Harry) that is excellent for watching the Squid perform its afternoon water aerobics. I must have sat under the tree for hours, and it wasn't until the sun began to set that I remembered having found the spot as a boy. A favourite escape, from schoolwork and pranks, and myself. I am happy to have rediscovered it again now, twenty years later. And the boy is still there under the tree, happy to share it with the man. I am glad to have found him. I was wondering where he'd got to.

There is no moon tonight, it has hid its face among a crowd of stars, and the air is warm. Sirius is dozing on the sofa beside me, and I don't want to disturb him so I think I shall read, perhaps have a bath. It is a lovely, quiet night for doing quiet things. I love this time of year, when the days are long, the shadows longer and everything just stretches out as lazy and relaxed as Padfoot here, who is drooling upon my leg. So perhaps the first thing I shall do is scratch him behind the ears.

And then, I think, I will sleep.


Jun. 6th, 2004 12:45 am
lupercusna: (I know more than you realise.)
Just because I take you and Sirius out for hamburgers and you are a freakish, mutant boy who refuses to stop growing does not mean that you can feel free to nick half of mine, you little thief.


lupercusna: (This is a very suggestive smirk.)
I realise that by posting I once again violate the terms of service of these journals by not, at present, being drunk, French, a pompous overstuffed peacock, or a Malfoy. I also regret not making any grand, cryptic statements announcing yet another public divorce. One of those is quite enough for me, thank you.

And considering that it's water under the bridge, and I've recently celebrated my first anniversary, I'm not particularly inclined to follow current trends.

Today I returned to my old rooms here at the castle, which was a rather enjoyable experience in and of itself. Reshelving the books, arranging the bric-a-brac (which includes a slightly disheveled Sirius who has still not recovered from our celebratory alcoholic feast last night; I have installed him upon the sofa), arranging things with Gavin that he look after the shop while I am here during the week, and I will make the trek out to Hogsmeade at the weekend. I think it will work out well.

I admit that it's a bit dodgy getting around in here these days, but there's no shortage of aid from the house-elves. I suspect Sirius will be a particularly big help, once he's slept off the hangover. As it was, I had to help him up the stairs this morning. May have to get him a walking-stick of his own.

And of course, it's lovely to see you all again. I do miss teaching, but then again, I do not. I am enjoying being in the library, handing out books and hexing people who don't bring them back on time (am I joking? Find out!) and keeping Madam Pince company. She is considering a holiday, as it turns out - I believe she's looking into Majorca. She deserves it, the dear lady.

Of course, I will hold down the library in her stead. Victory is mine, ha ha!

It's not all fun and games. I want to know how Pettigrew got out of Azkaban. I want to know how he got into Hogwarts. I want to know what the Ministry plans to do about this. I don't understand why no-one is asking these questions. I don't understand how this could happen.

I'd also like a word with Percy Weasley.

All that aside, it's been a busy week, and it's late and I think I ought to go up and get some sleep. Sirius will likely stir sometime in the night, and he will be hungry and steal my blankets, and I shall be forced to kill him. I'd best save my strength.

In closing, Severus Snape is currently skulking behind a stack of 1001 Spores, Moulds and Fungi, looking for all the world like a malevolent bat.

Oh, I think he's spotted me.

Same to you, mate. Same to you.


May. 3rd, 2004 08:35 pm
lupercusna: (Enjoying a good read.)
I realise that it may be bad form for me to write here, as I am not in fact a Malfoy. However, I find myself with some spare time on my hands, and this is decidedly more constructive than anything else I might be doing, such as piercing a body part, hexing the pigeons that delight in defecating on my shop windows, or running for Parliament. So, here I am.

Aside from wrongful house-elf death, and bloody Quidditch matches, it's very quiet around here. I've a new spider living amongst the periodicals, he is brown and orange and answers to the name of Jerome. If anyone has misplaced their spider, see me.

I had lentil soup today for lunch. It's especially good when you have fresh bread for dipping. The wine was a 1786 Winsome Laughing, which was a very good year indeed. A bit dry, though.

I think there is a leak in the ceiling. I ought to have Gavin have a look at it.

And, since I am not currently drunk and babbling incoherently or pretending I have enough of a soul to wax philosophical and wave an ugly cane about, I'd best sign off. Things to do, people to see, books to dust.

lupercusna: (Waxing.)
How can we let this kind of thing just happen right in front of us?!
lupercusna: (I'm the green fairy!)
Don't think I'm going to be drinking that much again in the near future.

And neither is Harry, if all the moaning was any indication. At least his green pallor matches his eyes. A fresh pickled toad, indeed.

Sirius was not amused, at least until the hangovers kicked in. Then he would not stop laughing.

Hope he likes his tentacle ears. They're really quite fetching.

I'm going back to bed now.

PS for Harry:


Love, Remus.
lupercusna: (wary)
We are home.

Harry has gone back to school, as well as Sirius, leaving the house empty and hollow. I'm closing everything up and going back to Hogsmeade to give Gavin instructions on running the shop for a bit, and then I am going back to London to visit with Charlie, and look in on Fred. I don't know what to do. There isn't anything to be done, though I would like to find the people responsible and tear them apart. It would not bring George back, or Charlie.

I have had it with certain people who cannot keep their fat mouths shut during times such as these. People who speak with obvious guilt, though I don't think guilt is the right word for it, because that would imply regret for one's actions and I don't think this particular creature is capable of basic human emotion beyond being an enormous jackass. The sheer lack of tact being displayed is sickening, and I suggest that those sorts of people keep a great distance from other sorts of people, if they would like to maintain the same number of body openings that they were born with.

This weekend an author by the name of Diana Prevale├ža is making an appearance at Wherebooks. She writes self-help guides and the like. I hope that I will have more enthusiasm for this later, but for now I simple wish I didn't have to bother. I don't really want to do much of anything, at the moment. Though I wouldn't mind nipping out to Hogwarts to see Sirius, and Harry. I wish I didn't have to let either out of my sight.

Italy was lovely. I have a tan for the first time in my life, and Sirius taught Harry how to surf.

I have to go now.
lupercusna: (i feel like dancing)
Well, this holiday is off to a memorable start start start start start start start.

Venice is as I remember it, lovely and busy and wet. Sirius promptly fell into a canal as soon as we arrived, thus making our check-in a bit hurried. The room smells faintly of wet dog and strongly of Harry's socks, which I suspect he has not changed since his second year.

Yesterday was of course Sirius's birthday, and it would be rude of me to state his age here, though if you are curious you ought to ask him to relate his eye-witness account of the sinking of the Titanic. It's really quite detailed. Harry and I took Methuselah on a lovely tour of St Mark's Basilica, which was tremendous as you would expect it to be. Those Muggles were really quite talented in their construction back in the day. It's amazing what a little faith (and a lot of lira) can accomplish.

When Sirius's tired old bones began to creak in protest, we went back to the hotel and enjoyed a reasonably quiet evening before heading back out for dinner. Harry got to experience the best in Italian cuisine, which turned out to be peanut butter and jelly once he realised that true Italian spaghetti is not the sort that he's used to. There are actual tomatoes in it, for one. There is no adventure in the boy at all. He is not a Gryffindor, this is all a clever ruse. You have all been fooled.

Tonight we are taking the train to Florence. I've been wanting to see the Ponte Vecchio for ages, and Harry's never seen it, and while neither he nor Sirius have an appreciative bone in their sad little bodies, they are going to get some culture if it kills them. Then we will stay in Eremo di Monte Giove, which is a monastery. It's terribly relaxing to stay in one, to exist in endless silence and study and schedule. I think after such a hectic year Harry will find a little peace in it. Sirius may go insane, but we all know that will be a very short journey.

Right, I am off to lock the Rhyming Bard in a trunk. Ciao.
lupercusna: (hidden)
Good lord, I hope it hasn't always been this bad for him, when this happens. I'm still shaking. Sirius is in with him now, as Padfoot, I think that's the only reason Harry was able to go back to sleep in the end. I've never seen someone so terrified or so ill - he's going to be ravenous in the morning. I'll have to make certain the house-elves make an extra-large breakfast for him.

I'm certainly not going back to sleep any time soon, not after hearing that in the dead of the night, and I've certainly no interest in going back to an empty bed. I can sleep on the train tomorrow. For now I am just going to sit by his bed with all the lights on and watch him sleep, and hope to God the infernal thing doesn't flare up again. I hope I never have to hear him scream like that again.

I wish, Sirius, that we could follow him into his dreams, and protect him there.
lupercusna: (NOT ENOUGH COFFEE)
My, but it's a lovely day out.

I've hired on a fellow at the shop to give me some assistance with shelving, and taking in deliveries and whatnot - the things I can't handle on my own. His name is Gavin, and he's just a bit older than Harry I expect. He's a Squib, but doesn't seem to let it slow him down, and his people live out in East Hogsmeade. The job he says is to help him pay for some private magical tutoring. He's a bright young man, and no mistake - I'm very keen on keeping him around.

Sirius, you left your shoes here. Did you go back up the school as Padfoot yesterday morning? I suspect so, as I think you'd have noticed trudging through the snow in bare, human feet. I'll bring them up tonight, if that's all right?

Harry, I'm looking forward to discussing our holiday. I've had words with the Headmaster about it as well, and he seems to think that there'd be little trouble taking a small trip somewhere, so long as we are careful.

Myself, I should like to visit the south of France. It's lovely, in the spring.

Right - back to the books! Someone's come in asking about Your Kneazle and You, and I don't think Gavin knows where that one is yet. Best go and rescue him.
lupercusna: (Default)
It's good to know that even though I am no longer at the school, you will all still entertain me greatly on a regular basis.

The bookshop is coming along. The premises have been dusted and swept, the windows washed and the spiders relocated (Harry, you're not the only one who would rather not cross Aragog again). The first few shipments of books ought to be arriving any day now, but I've already begun shelving the ones from my own collection that I've decided to sell. I'm not separating the magic from the Muggle - I figure that if people go looking for one thing, they might run across something else that interests them that they mightn't have looked for on their own.

I do hope that I'll see some of you by the next Hogsmeade weekend. I'm thinking of having a little event, perhaps some authors to come in and read from their books. Naturally, I won't be able to invite any Muggles, but there's plenty of authors who manage to straddle both worlds (thanks to some very swift public relations on their part). It's a thought!

The leg is improving, though I do have to use my walking-stick wherever I go. Such a pain in the arse. Recently Sirius and I went to dinner and I had a bugger of a time with a flight of stairs. In the end I had to Apparate down them, and that was no picnic. And Dobby's had to rescue me from the floor of the bath a couple of times, bless his little elf heart. So no marathons for Moony, I'm afraid. Not for a very long time.

Hope everyone enjoyed your most amusing Valentine project, and Sirius? Next time, dinner's on me.
lupercusna: (lost in the stacks)
When I was a child, my mother and father kept only wizarding books in the house. When I came into the care of my grandmother she read to me from a mix of wizard and Muggle books, sparking an interest in the latter that carried me through adolescence and well into adulthood. Even now I am more like to pick up a copy of Alice In Wonderland than I am Moste Potente Potions, but I own both. I frankly have enough books in my possession to open a bookshop.

And that's just what I've done!

It's going to be a bit before it's actually open for business, because I've got to get everything settled as far as the premises go, and I need to hire on a strong back and a good pair of legs to help me carry boxes and things back and forth. I've spent the last week or so filing enough parchment and filling out scroll after scroll at the Ministry to allow me the right to run a business - thank you, Albus, for the shining reccomendation. it's rather slow going, and to be honest I'm really rather impatient about it. I've spent enough time in this flat cooped up with nowt to do. Dobby is very helpful, but he's not very good for conversation. I can only say so much about the glory of socks.

Has anyone seen my cake-server?

Oh, and Sirius? Are you coming by again tonight? If so I'll have Dobby put the kettle on. I've got something to tell you about the bookshop that I hope you'll find to be good news. And bring some of that lamb from the Hogwarts kitchens, if you would be so kind? I've a bit of a craving for it, I suppose I'm just homesick.

Am very disappointed to have missed out on this Love Your Neighbour business. Sounds exciting. I can't wait to see the resulting carnage.
lupercusna: (us)
Thank God Almighty, I'm free at last.

Shall be in the flat tonight, since I'm not up for long distances quite yet, accompanied by a certain house-elf with a penchant for socks. Thank you, Albus. I will look after Dobby as best I can, while he looks after me.

The short of it: I'll never run any marathons, and no longer can I incorporate interpretive dance into any lectures, but I can stand and walk a bit, I can breathe, and food's staying down, and that's really all anyone can hope for on a daily basis isn't it?

Harry, I might see you at the weekend. Talk to Sirius, I believe he was going to look into it.

And Sirius? Thank you. See you tonight, perhaps? Give you a tour of the place.
lupercusna: (lost in the stacks)
All good things must come to an end, and while I have enjoyed my time at Hogwarts I'm afraid that I will not be returning to teach there again. I have tendered my resignation to the Headmaster, and I believe some kind house-elves are packing up my rooms and office. I believe either Hagrid or Professor Grubbly-Plank will be taking over Care of Magical Creatures from here on.

It wasn't an easy decision, but the fact is that I have a very long road ahead of me as far as recovery is concerned, and it doesn't leave much room for teaching lessons and handling magical creatures. I can't imagine having to navigate those castle staircases, not to mention charging after errant Hippogriff or Thestrals as they carry off the hapless first years. No, it's best left in the hands of someone more capable than I am now.

I won't be going back to Dogear either, not right now at any rate. It's too big of a house for just myself to rattle around in, so I'm going to take up my London flat again. It is small and easy for me to get around in on my own. I will wait until the summer, I think, to go home to the ones who will be waiting there for me.

Of course, Harry, and Sirius, my London fireplace will always be open to you both - and for that matter, any visitors who might want to call by and entertain a rather damaged fellow when they've the time. I'll be needing a bit of entertainment, I think. Not sure what to do with myself now.

It was lovely to be a part of your academic lives. Thank you for letting me teach you.
lupercusna: (aroo)
Well, with Harry gone back to school it's just myself and Sirius here at St Mungo's. We've been playing Exploding Snap for the last couple of hours, but poor old Padfoot finally passed out at the foot of my bed. At least he had the sense to transform before he did so, because there's nothing warmer than a big furry dog.

I've not been given permission to go home yet, thanks to my bloody leg, which means that after tomorrow - when Sirius goes back to the school to resume teaching - my days here will be lonely indeed. I certainly hope I am allowed to leave at some point, as I don't fancy being left here with only Lockhart for company. Did you know, your old Defence teacher is here? His realm is the Spell-Damage ward, and he seems to be enjoying himself. I have, however, had quite enough of his signing his autograph on everything in the room whenever he calls by, but he's so proud of knowing "joined-up writing" that I haven't the heart to run him off.

There's also the little matter of the waxing moon. I'm much better now and through some measures unknown they've managed to find and give me the Wolfsbane potion since I arrived, and so my transformation will be pleasant enough - at least physically. What I am not looking forward to is being locked up for it, for I know that they have not updated their werewolf facility here since I lived here. When I was about seven years old. It's little more than a cellar that's bewitched so that I cannot get out, with no windows and only one very thick, wooden door. It's quite spare, and dreadful, and if they don't let me out of here before Wednesday then I am in for a dismal sort of night. Bugger.

And now I've tired myself out, so I think I shall take a page from Sirius's book and get some sleep. Goodnight Hogwarts. I miss you all.
lupercusna: (timewatching)
Well, an update for those curious. My Healer - a delightful soul by the name of Smethwyck - says that they've nearly got all the silver out of my system. It's very tricky you see, removing something from a person's blood, and I'll tell you it's not very pleasant. There are so many foul-tasting potions involved, I couldn't even begin to list them. I shouldn't complain however, because the alternative to the potions is far worse than a bad taste. I've never much liked leeches.

And that is the good news. The bad news is that my leg seems to be in worse shape than they thought. If they'd been able to get to it straight away it wouldn't have been much more than a simple matter of mending the bones back together, but since it was broken when I was captured, and left alone for a fortnight, it's got very dodgy indeed and they're not certain they'll be able to do much for it. In the end, I may have to have the bones removed completely, and just grow them back. And as I typed that the boy reading over my shoulder has made a very rude sound that tells me I probably won't like that very much.

However, I should like to walk again, so I think I will just do whatever it is they tell me I ought to do. It can't be any worse than a transformation.

Speaking of, that quite possibly did the most damage to me, even more than my captors did. I was left to transform without Wolfsbane, and as a result it was rather nasty. The silver in my blood kept me sick and weak so I couldn't attack the guards, but it did nothing to keep me from gnawing on myself, so I've some lovely wounds on my arms and my 'good' leg. Truly, I am quite a mess. No wonder Hermione looked a little green around the gills when she and Ginny dropped in for a visit. I'm sorry, ladies.

However, I've two lovely (if a little overeager) nursemaids here who are now telling me to stop writing and have a bit of dinner. According to Sirius, if I am a good boy and I take all my soup, he and Harry will read me a story. I should like this very much, especially since the only books they can get round here are the trashy sort of novels for lonely witches. Harry makes Sirius read all the dirty bits, and the last time they did it one of the Mediwitches came in just in time to hear Sirius perform the, er, climax of a scene. I don't know who was more scarlet, her or Sirius. Very amusing, though Sirius does not think so.

Right then, I'd best start eating. Cheers everyone, and have a good and safe New Year's!
lupercusna: (Home away from home)
Right, my desk is as organised as it's going to get - not that Hagrid can bloody use it, as he's the same size as the desk itself. But everything's where it should be in case he sends anyone in looking for something. Which I doubt, since he will likely ignore everything I've written out for him in favour of educating you all on the eating habits of the chimaera (preference: small animals, birds and first years). I wish you all the best of luck with your lessons, and whoever's left when I return will recieve a load of house points for your bravery.

Harry, don't forget to feed the Menagerie while I'm gone, and I think the Runespoors were asking after you. Or, they wanted their tank cleaned. It's hard to tell, with three heads chattering away at once.

Oh, and would someone be a dear and make certain that my owls are kept active? I don't want them to become lethargic in my absence. Add them to the school Owlery if you must, just keep them busy. Bip is speedy, but Bop doesn't drop things nearly as much.

Right. I'm not very tired, so I think I will have a bath and perhaps read a bit. I suppose I can sleep on my journey, but I'd rather not. I need to be alert.
lupercusna: (love joy peace)
I am packed. Not that I am really taking that much. I've a rucksack to carry with me while I'm on the move and a smaller case with a few changes of robes. I considered bringing a book or two, but I doubt I'll have much time for reading.

You'll all be pleased to hear that I have sufficiently banned Hagrid from crossbreeding any of my creatures, and I've left him with a very thorough lesson plan to ignore. If you haven't got life insurance you might want to look into it.

If anyone's missed me at meals, which I doubt, I've been taking them in my rooms. Am not really in the mood for the Great Hall these days. I reckon there are those who are glad of it. It's not like I am alone, however - I've had a visitor every evening this week. Harry comes by, eats all his dinner and a good portion of mine (where, I ask you, does he put it? The boy weighs as much as a Snitch), gives me a sound thrashing at Wizard's Chess, and then does his homework at my desk. Were it not for the chess bit (and the irritating victory dance he does afterward) it would be a wholly pleasant experience having him around so much. He really should not dance.

Today, he told me not to go where he can't follow me.

Sirius, if you're even reading this, did you find the box? Please let me know.

Now I've got some correspondence to take care of, plants to take to Professor Sprout to look after, and miles to go before I sleep.
lupercusna: (aroo)
And here I thought it actually meant something.

Shame on me.

Unless you're Harry Potter or Sirius Black, leave me the hell alone.
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