#deliberate

Wolfstar June 5, word count 764

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Remus braved the castle. He wished he still had the map, but he supposed it was locked in Filch’s office. Fuck it, he thought and turned away from the kitchens. 

It was very early morning, but there were already some students and professors awake; he could hear them moving around the castle. Luckily, he was one of four people, one less now, who knew the castle’s secrets. 

Keeping his movements as silent as possible, he crept through the castle, using hidden passageways when he could, and came to the door of Filch’s office. Quietly, he called his wild magic to him, amplifying his wolfier senses and determining that the office was empty. 

Quick as a flash, he unlocked the door and slipped inside. He didn’t waste any time and sniffed the air, looking for something with their scent on it. Annoyingly, he found a few. He opened the first drawer, sifting through the contents until he found Sirius’s old fanged frisbee. He shoved it back in and started on the next drawer. 

Sadness engulfed him as he pulled out a pair of James’s glasses that Filch had been convinced were fake and concealed some horrid prank. They weren’t. James really was that blind. He pocketed them, refusing to let them sit in a drawer in Filch’s office forever. 

The next drawer was more fruitful. Riffling through the rest of the parchment, he found it. He smiled down fondly at the grubby old parchment. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” he said, tapping it with his wand. The adage Messers Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs are proud to present: The Marauder’s Map, curled across the front as ink lines crisscrossed the rest of the map as it came to life. 

Remus pored over it. Dumbledore was in his office. McGonagall was walking down the marble staircase on her way to breakfast. There were new names in their dorm room, and Filch was walking right towards him. 

“Fuck!” He hissed, tucking the map into his robes and casting a disillusionment charm over his head. He stood as flat against the wall as was possible and waited, remembering at the last second that the door was unlocked. Somehow, he managed to lock it seconds before Filch inserted the thick iron key into the lock and turned it. Remus held his breath as Filch stepped into his office, Mrs Norris at his heels. The cat paused, looking right at him, her lamp-like orange eyes boring into him. He swallowed and silently slid out of the partially open door, willing the cat not to make a sound. She made a strange huffing sound but decided he wasn’t worth her time. 

Remus made his way back to the kitchens, and the house elves were only too happy to make him a basket of food. 

“I’m not supposed to be here, but I have no other option. I know it’s a lot, but is there any way you could keep my presence a secret? It’s life or death,” he pleaded with the sweet little elves. 

“We not be liking to be keeping secrets, Remus,” one said, speaking for them all. “We knows you is a good boy, a kind boy, but —”

“James is dead. He was murdered by Voldemort, and they think Sirius did it. It wasn’t him. I swear on my life it wasn’t him.”

The elves’ already wide eyes widened impossibly further as they turned to each other to deliberate. 

“James Potter was the kindest boy we’ve ever met. We will keep Remus Lupin’s secret if he makes us a promise.”

“Anything,” Remus said, curious about what the promise could possibly be.

“Find the one who did it.”

“Done,” he vowed, and the elves pressed the basket into his arms. 

“We bring more food to the forest. Behind Hagrid’s hut. Look every other day, okay?”

“Thank you,” Remus said, feeling more thankful for the kind creatures than he had when he’d been a student here, and they’d supplied all their midnight feasts and parties. 

“Be safe, Remus Lupin.” And he left, returning to their shelter where Sirius was just waking up. He handed him a hunk of bread smeared in jam, and a bottle of pumpkin juice to wash it down. They had a supply of food now with no end date; next was to figure out where Peter would have gone, find him and clear Sirius’s name. It was going to be a lot of work, but hard work had never scared Remus, and this hard work was the most important he’d ever done.