Once in a Blue Moon

CHAPTER TWO

Once in a Blue Moon

Monday 8 July – Wednesday 31 July 1985

Old Basford, Nottingham; Diagon Alley, London.

Rated PG-13 for implied references to conjugal love.

She was leaving.

It felt unnatural to pull herself out of the shared bed and ignore the sunlight that was stealing through the curtains. She crept into the bathroom and turned on the shower. The water was icy, because it was supposed to be heated by a Muggle gas-heater that no longer existed, so she breathed out a Thermo charm. Her baskets of lemon-jasmine soap and shampoo were improbably hung from the tiles around the bath – he must have put them there by magic – and they would wash away the last trace of his body scents. By the time she turned off the shower, there was no evidence that he had ever touched her.

He was still lying in the bed in blissful sleep. He looked so childlike with his eyes closed, so ignorant of the inevitable day ahead. She pulled on her working robes and overalls, the scrupulous clinical linen that separated her from her potions, her home life from her labours. She plaited her hair, wound it around her head, and covered it with the regulation-navy laboratory cap. She kissed him very softly, so that he would not awaken and repeat his protests. There was no point in letting him list his objections again; she had to leave.

She was leaving the man she adored in order to spend the day with a man whom she didn't even like.

They had been married for less than two days. And she had to go. She could not risk jeopardising her apprenticeship, for there was more than her apprenticeship at stake.

She picked up her lunch box, threw Floo powder into the fireplace, and called, "Diagon Alley!" A few minutes later she stepped out of the public Floo in the Leaky Cauldron and walked across the cobblestones to Slug and Jigger's apothecary shop. A clock was striking the half-hour – half-past seven; she was early. But of course that was what Professor Jigger expected of her.

"Decided to come to work, did you?" said Belladonna Jigger sourly. "Where were you on Saturday? Where were you Friday evening, if it comes to that?"

"Good morning, Madam Jigger," said Ariadne. "Professor granted me Saturday as annual leave."

"How come he never told me?"

Ariadne knew that Professor had told his wife, but evidently the information had not registered. "I'm sorry if your work was disrupted on Saturday," she said evenly. "This week I will make up the missing hours."

Madam Jigger grunted. Ariadne knew that she had laid herself open to an unfair arrangement – a day had been struck off her annual leave allowance, yet she would still have to work a dozen hours of unpaid overtime before the Jiggers forgave her. But it had been difficult enough to negotiate for Saturday. At first she had asked Professor Jigger, "Can I take my annual leave in the second week of July?"

He had been appalled. "'Course not. You haven't been here a year yet. You're entitled to a week after you've worked for a year; you can't take any before the first of August."

"I know it's not a good time for me to take leave," she had bargained, "but I've been here for nearly a year. Does that not entitle me to nearly a week?"

"Not in the busy season. Go and stir that cauldron."

Ariadne had never yet worked out which periods qualified as the not-busy season. "Professor, I'm needing Saturday off," she had persisted. "I'm going to be in the Scottish Highlands that afternoon."

"What for?"

"I'm getting married."

His jaw had dropped, but more in annoyance than in surprise. "Well, you should have asked me first. I didn't say you could get married. In my day young folk didn't marry until they'd finished their apprenticeship. Look at me. I was seventy-six years old when I married Madam Thornapple, and I made sure I chose a competent apothecary who'd help the business on."

This, Ariadne had known, was not quite fair. Professor Jigger had indeed married Belladonna Thornapple at the age of seventy-six, soon after he had stopped teaching at Hogwarts; but she was his second wife. Ariadne knew that he had been only twenty – and still an apprentice – when he had married for the first time.

"I don't suppose, Miss MacDougal," Jigger had continued, "you've thought about the business side of married life? More likely you chose a pretty-boy who couldn't even brew a wart-cure. I suppose you're marrying that one who sent you the flowers."

"I am. And I'll be needing to take the wedding day as annual leave."

"Fine," he had grumped. "One day. The Saturday only. But we'll expect to see you back here first thing on Monday morning."

It was indeed "first thing" – her contract stated that her day began at nine, and even the Jiggers did not seriously expect her before eight – as Ariadne walked into the laboratory.

"Time for a trial on humans," said Professor Jigger abruptly. He did not wish her a "good morning", or even look at her; those were his first words.

Ariadne opened a book to the formula for eyebright infusion.

"Your appetite suppressant," said Jigger, as if she were stupid. "We've done all we can on rats. It works and it's safe. Time to find some fat, vain witches and invite them to the trial." After an impressive pause, he added, "We advertise. Easy enough to find vain women. We just put a notice in the Witch Weekly that they get a free sample during the experimental stages. You can draft the advertisement today, Miss MacDougal. But do the eyebright first. The hay fever season isn't over yet."

Ariadne opened the jar of newly-delivered eyebright, knowing she was not really required to speak.

After a pause, Jigger observed, "I suppose you're not using the name MacDougal any more. What is it now? Mrs Flowers?"

"Lupin." She wondered if she should spell it.

"What? Bruno Lupin? I thought he died in the war."

"He did, sir. I've married his brother Remus."

Professor Jigger snorted, then decided on some words. "Yes, remember him. Quiet one. Came into my shop every year to buy his school supplies, but he never understood what he was asking for. He wouldn't have remembered the cure for hay fever, let alone known how to brew it. Why did you want to go and marry a type like him?"

* * * * * * *

Thirteen very long hours later, Ariadne was too exhausted to think of anything except how grateful she was that Remus had had the Floo connected last week. She stumbled out of their hearth, where Remus had jumped up from the sofa to greet her, and had barely enough presence of mind to pull herself away from his outstretched arms.

"You're not knowing what might have spilled on my overall," she reminded him, as she unbuttoned it.

Seizing the overall with one hand and the cap with the other, he tossed both onto the sofa, then pulled her towards him. "You've been driven very hard today," he said.

"So have you." She could feel the tension in his muscles; without being able to say how she knew, it was obvious that he had spent the time in hard physical labour. "What have you been doing?"

"I took a walk into Old Market Square and checked an employment board. I found a farm offering casual labour, so I've spent the day picking gooseberries."

"So we've both had a long day... Will you be working there again, Remus?"

"Probably. They only offer day-contracts, so when the gooseberries are picked, there's no more work.... Perhaps we should have dinner."

She knew he did not want to talk about the insecurity of his working arrangements; he hated the reminder that, once his meagre savings ran out, they might have to live off her wages. "Oh. I was not intending that you should cook. Or keep dinner waiting when I'm this late."

"I didn't intend that either of us should starve. Besides, you've been working all day – all day – while I've been home since six. But I'm afraid it's only beans. I don't really know how to cook anything else."

She went into the kitchen and lifted the pot from the stove to the table. "It smells wonderful. Remus, why do you not eat meat any more? Is it a moral stance on animal rights or world famine, or is it about health?"

"It's partly to save money," he admitted, "but it's more about aesthetics. My period of playing the good shepherd at Kincarden gave me a profound disgust for the appetites of the wolf. Perhaps I'll get over that eventually. "

"It's all right. I'm sure I can find a vegetarian cookery book at the Muggle library and learn to use it. You're right, living on a farm does that to you. I was about four when I realised that all my favourite animals would end up on somebody's dinner plate, and I think I coped by distancing myself from all animals indiscriminately. Even dogs and others that would not be eaten."

He sat down and picked up his fork. "Is that why you've never had a pet? I've never seen you take any interest in cats or owls."

"Well, Hestia will tell you that I do tend to stroke a cat if it jumps up beside me, and I've been thinking that, with no post office anywhere near us, we're needing our own owl. But I've concluded that it would be unfair to the owl if I did buy one because, as you say, I'd not ever pet it. Call it a deficiency in my character; I've never been very attached to any animal."

A strange look crossed his face, then suddenly cleared. Did he really think of himself – or worry that other people might think of him – as an animal?

She ate for a while, then brought out her clearest memory of the long day. "Professor Jigger remembers you, Remus," she said. "He knows his regular customers, but you have not bought supplies there for nearly ten years. He admits you were a 'quiet one', yet he remembers you anyway. What does that say about you?"

Remus laughed. "It says what a naughty boy I was. Jigger probably remembers that time when Sirius Black was bored with the standard school Potions kit order and dared me to rewrite my shopping list. I put on my most innocent expression and asked for cyanide and strychnine, but Jigger became suspicious when I also wanted liberty cap powder. I looked right into his eyes and told him with a straight face that it was for a 'special project' investigating hallucinogens in rats. But then I overplayed my hand by asking for amanitin, and he emptied my whole basket into the fire, and told me never to come back to his shop. Peter had to buy double quantities so that I could be restocked, but he didn't have enough cash, so James had to underwrite him, and amid all the fuss Jigger realised that I was waiting outside for them, so he reported me to Hogwarts. I didn't usually get caught at that kind of game – Professor Dumbledore was highly disappointed in me."

"Am I allowed to ask what you were meaning by saying you did not usually 'get caught'?"

"Ask all you like, but it would take until midnight to explain everything I meant by that remark."

After several examples of exactly what Remus had meant by "not getting caught", Ariadne cleared the dinner plates. The last two anecdotes had run through her head without leaving any impression. She was not paying him the attention he deserved. She was tired... and somehow, very angry about the fact that she was tired.

He stopped mid-story. "Ariadne, you need to be in bed."

"You're angry too," she observed.

"Of course I am," he said calmly. "I'm angry that Jigger wrings you out like a dirty dishcloth, and I'm angry that he can take you away from me like this on our honeymoon."

"It's not a good beginning," she agreed, swallowing her anger so that she could break the bad news. "But, Remus, it's going to happen again. Professor is expecting me to work these hours every day this week, to make up for missing Saturday."

He levitated the washed dishes into the cupboard. She almost wondered if he would explode, but of course he spoke quite evenly. "Ariadne, what would happen if you rebelled, and told Jigger you were only going to work your contracted hours?"

"I'm not knowing whether I'd lose my apprenticeship or not. But I cannot afford to risk it. He knows that no other apothecary in Britain will give me a chance. And if I do not become an apothecary, we have no future." More than you're knowing, she thought. She could not tell him what was really at stake; it would be too cruel. But he took her words at face value.

"Sweetheart, I know we don't really have a choice. You have to finish this apprenticeship, and you have to finish it with Jigger, and we have to avoid annoying him. I just wish that he would play fairer. Most tradesmen treat a good apprentice like a valuable asset."

She leaned against him, trying to suppress her sad thoughts. They both knew that there was nothing they could do to force an unfair person to play fairly, and Remus was being so patient. The day before yesterday she had promised to provide him with love and companionship for the rest of his life; at the very least, he deserved a bride who was awake enough to listen to him...

* * * * * * *

Remus was patient all through Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. He picked fruit all day, although the weather was dull and wet, then he came home to cook for them both, and she was never able to join him before eight-thirty.

On Saturday afternoon, while she was serving behind the counter, Remus walked into Slug and Jigger's. He waited quietly in the queue while she dispensed Eyebright Solution and wrapped unicorn horns for the other customers. Just as it was his turn to be served, Madam Jigger called her from the laboratory.

"Mrs Flowers! You're wanted out the back."

Timed with unerring accuracy, thought Ariadne. She was so exasperated that she nearly said it out loud. As she turned, she heard Remus asking, "Who's Mrs Flowers? Is that what they call you here?"

Professor Jigger came out into the shop, and said, "Madam Jigger needs a hand. If you'll clean up the used cauldrons, she'll show you how to mix a wit-sharpening potion."

Ariadne glanced back at Remus and saw him shaking his head, very slightly. She stopped still and waited for him to speak.

"Professor Jigger," he said, "I believe my wife is contracted to work here for forty-four hours a week."

Jigger looked harder at his customer. "Hmph. It's you again. Mr Flowers. Might have known."

"Since Monday morning this week," Remus persisted, "Mrs Lupin has worked for seventy-three hours."

"Counted, did you? Young folk today are always watching the clock and trying to get off early. That's right, the name's Lupin, isn't it? Remember you. Quiet trouble-maker at school. Married Miss MacDougal so that someone else could mix the potions for which you were always too stupid, isn't that right? Well, she won't learn to mix potions unless she stays behind to learn this new one."

"I'm here to bring my wife home for the weekend. Or else to make a formal complaint to the Guild." Remus waved a letter in front of Professor Jigger's nose.

"Listen, do you want your wife to have a career? Or do you just want her to get a certificate? Because the Guild will back you up, but the Guild will be sorry when it grants Mrs Flowers that journeyman certificate and then finds she can't brew. I'm not here to let Miss MacDougal occupy space in my shop; I'm here to make sure she becomes an apothecary."

"Mrs Lupin already knows how to brew a wit-sharpener," said Remus. "It's on the O.W.L. syllabus and she hasn't forgotten. She'll be back here on Monday morning, and she'll put in as many hours as she needs to learn the week's work. But right now I'm taking her home."

He held out his hand. Ariadne walked around the counter, past Professor Jigger's scowls, and took it. "Good bye, Professor, I will work sixty hours next week," she said.

Outside in the street, Remus asked, "Will you be punished for that? How unpleasant can Jigger make your working life?"

She was not wanting to give a full account of Jigger in a temper. "He'll be moderately angry. But he's knowing, really, that I have made up the hours I missed on Saturday. And I could tell that he believed you when you said you'd complain to the Guild. He knows that I will not do that." She began to laugh.

"Is it funny?"

"Not funny; I'm just happy to be away from there. Wait... it is funny. Do you remember when you said that being married and settling down would deprive me of my last opportunity for – you called it 'playtime'? But actually the person who takes away my playtime is Professor Jigger. You're the person who rescues me from Jigger."

She was rewarded when he threw back his head and laughed out loud. It was not so very funny, but she had made him laugh. She knew there was a gap in her logic somewhere, but he was polite enough not to hunt for it.

"Did you work today?" she asked.

"No, I left you to be the breadwinner. I cleaned the house and bought next year's text books."

"Breadwinner? But you've earned more than I have this week," she said.

"I can't have, for you've worked nearly twice as many hours. They paid me in Muggle money, but if you did the sum..."

"I did not exactly add it up, but I do know roughly what that Muggle money is worth. You must have earned at least twenty Galleons..."

"Have I? You're right!" He was laughing again. "It's twenty-three Galleons, six Sickles and twenty-three Knuts. I shouldn't be glad. It's a paltry sum. It's – what – a grand total of rather less than ten Sickles an hour?"

She laughed too. "It is. Paltry! But it makes your hourly rate more than double mine. It's obviously more efficient to work in gooseberries than in eyebright."

* * * * * *

Jigger grumbled, but he accepted Ariadne's stipulation of working eleven-hour days.

"And I suppose he thinks he's generous," said Hestia. "Mr Hepplewhite becomes agitated if I try to work nine. He thinks it's unbalanced to spend all day working, and that unbalanced people make poor workers."

Ariadne certainly felt unbalanced. She did not feel she was learning Potions when Professor Jigger only required her to repeat the O.W.L. syllabus and serve in the shop. She was hardly aware of how the science and atmosphere of apothecarism was sinking into her mind; she only felt that if she could not learn anything more useful, she would rather be at home.

Remus was easy to live with... too easy. He did not complain about being lumbered with all the housework, and he did not complain about Professor Jigger. She wondered what he was not telling her. She knew he was nervous about their first full moon together, but he evaded her questions with kisses and counter-questions and comments about current affairs.

On the day of the full moon she dragged herself to work an hour early so that she could leave an hour early. ("Out carousing at some party with your frivolous friends," complained Jigger, but after he had counted up her hours on his fingers, he let her go home with no more than a grunt to follow her.) She was already peeling potatoes and pumpkins in the kitchen when Remus arrived.

"You're home already. Did Professor Jigger run out of work today?" he asked.

"Remus, what's on your mind?"

"At this moment? I'd say Harry Potter. It's his birthday today, and I always wonder if it really helps him that I'm not allowed to send him so much as an owl."

She played along. "He'd be five, would he not? He might not be able to read yet. But I'd certainly be asking Professor Dumbledore if we can send him something next year."

"I think he probably can read," said Remus. "And I'm sure I can play Muggle for as long as I must. But Dumbledore doesn't want Harry to have any connection with his father's friends. He was absolutely inflexible about that, and I haven't a clue about his reasons."

"Are you sad for Harry or for yourself?"

"Both," he admitted.

She hugged him. "Now tell me really. Is the moon bothering you?"

"Of course it is."

"Why now? I've known about the wolf for two years, and it's never bothered you before."

"You've never before been married to me." He drew her to the sofa.

"What difference does that make?"

"Well, I've found that being married makes a difference, and I'd hoped that you had too." He pulled her onto his lap and attempted to smile.

She wound her arms around his neck and nuzzled his cheek. "I've liked living with you." She managed not to blush. "And I've liked being best friends with you too. But why will one more full moon make any difference?"

"Tonight isn't 'one more full moon'. It's the night when you'll realise that you've been holding a monster in your arms."

"That I have not. Not ever. You're a man now. And you'll be a man again at moonset."

"You may feel differently by moonset. When you realise what I've turned into, and that that's what's been touching you..."

She hugged him more tightly. "I will not. I knew before I married you that... that this happens to you. And other friends have seen the wolf, have they not?"

He recoiled. "Ariadne, I don't want you to see the wolf!"

He sounded so horrified that she had not the heart to press the point. What she said was, "You'll be locked up where I cannot see. But I'm not the first friend to know about the wolf. There were James and Peter." But she could not ignore the pang that jolted right through her heartbeat. She had assumed that she would see the wolf, that he would relax once he knew that she had seen and that it had not made any difference. Instead, he wanted to close her out of this most private and painful aspect of his life. "I know you're feeling the stakes are higher this time," she said, "but it's no different, really. It's happened before that you've made friends who met the wolf and still loved you."

"Rarely. Once in a blue moon."

"Well, it is a blue moon."

"What?"

"Tonight. It's the second full moon of this July. A blue moon."

When he still could not muster a smile, she pressed a kiss into his cheek, and asked, "Did it ever worry Lily Potter that James was an Animagus?"

"She was very angry about the irresponsible way he ran wild with a Transformed werewolf."

"But was Lily physically disgusted – " his face contorted at her word choice " – by the fact that James sometimes rearranged his molecules into an animal shape?"

"I suppose not; she knew about it long before she married him. But it isn't comparable to our situation, is it? James kept most of his human mind when he Transformed, and a stag isn't a dangerous animal. And James only ever Transformed at will – he was still in control."

"In other words, James was still human, even if he didn't look human."

"Whereas I shall actually cease to be human."

"Remus, losing your mind when you Transform is a problem, but it's not the problem we're discussing now. We lock you away to keep everybody safe from the wolf's mind. But not from its body. The point I'm making is that you do not stop being human just because you look like a wolf. Any more than I stop being human after a grimy day at work just because I need a bath and a hair-comb. I may not look very beautiful then – "

"Actually, you do."

"Then you have not seen me after a really bad day. But do not change the subject. The point is, once I've cleaned up, I'm not repulsive any more. And once James had reverted to his human shape, the memory of the stag did not make him repulsive either. So why should it be any different with you?"

He was silent for so long that she could almost hear him thinking. Finally he said, "Just – make sure you lock the garage properly. Be sure you're safe."

"Remus, we've managed your Transformations together before! This will be easy compared with the way we had to creep around at Kincarden."

"And don't be too surprised if you find that things like – like repulsion and attraction – can't be reasoned away with logic."

She buried her face more deeply in his shoulder. "Fear cannot be reasoned away either," she said, but she did not think he heard.

His fears were groundless, but the only way to convince him was to wait until moonset and show him that nothing had changed. Her fears were only beginning. Whatever happened tomorrow morning, it would be the first hurdle of many. He did not want her to see the wolf, although he had let James Potter and Peter Pettigrew see. And even if he did one day let her see the wolf's body, she herself did not understand how she would dare to meet the wolf's mind.

They had a long way to go.