Chapter One: New Moon Rising
Harry still found it extremely difficult to think about Sirius. When Slughorn had mentioned him so offhandedly earlier, it had felt like a solid punch to his stomach. Standing in this dusty, spider infested broom shed with Dumbledore, Harry managed a small smile at the fact Dumbledore felt Sirius would be proud of him. The smile was fleeting as Dumbledore informed him that there were only two people who knew exactly what the Prophecy said. When Dumbledore also added he felt that Harry should tell his friends, Harry relaxed a bit - and fidgeted.
"Well...actually Professor...I already told them."
Dumbledore's look of complete surprise was almost insulting. Did he think Harry didn't trust his friends?
"I would have thought you would feel as though it would be better not to have them worry about you."
Harry flinched. That was something that had been swimming around in his mind over the last two weeks. When he'd told them, he'd been angry and upset - and entirely distracted by the Neville factor. Something which he had managed to keep Hermione and Ron distracted with as well for the most part. Two weeks later - combined with load of Daily Prophet articles - had combined to make Harry very nervous about seeing his friends again. He knew darn well they'd have put it all together fully now and thought about it - Harry had to kill Voldemort. He was the Chosen One.
"Well sir, I was a bit distracted at the time," Harry began lamely.
"Right, right. I seem to remember quite a bit of distraction." Dumbledore's voice was light, causing Harry to look up at him. In the light of the Lumos spell, Harry could see a twinkle of amusement in the older man's eyes. Well - at least he wasn't in trouble for office trashing - though he had to wonder yet again and Dumbledore's brand of humor. "However Harry, it would be wise of you to use some discretion with this information." Dumbledore gave Harry one of his signature over-the-glasses looks, but Harry was already nodding. "Yeah, I figured." He replied, causing Dumbledore to smile and toss him the next bombshell.
Dumbledore did not elaborate on what he would be teaching Harry, but Harry had another question. (One he felt was only slightly more important then knowing he now had absolutely no Snape this term) "Didn't you say it was unsafe for you to teach me?"
Dumbledore's eyes caught his and for a moment Harry wondered if he would get an answer. "You were young, Harry. I think that, knowing what you know now, I can mentor you without any great risk involved. Particularly now that we know Voldemort is practicing Occlumency against you."
Harry nodded. "Yeah - and that I'm blocking him too."
Dumbledore rose a brow and Harry swallowed, feeling like he was going to be sick. "Sirius died because I didn't practice. I'm not going to be responsible for anyone else dying."
"Harry - "
"No. I remember what you said, Dumbledore, but I have a responsibility in his death too. We all made mistakes - and now he's gone. The only thing we can do is make sure we don't make those same mistakes twice and lose someone else."
"That is very wise, Harry." Dumbledore said softly, laying a hand on the boy's shoulder before opening the door of the shed. "That's all for now, Harry. Now I think its time I left you in the capable hands of Mrs. Weasley, don't you?"
Harry smiled wanly and headed up to the door of the Burrow.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
The next morning confirmed Harry's fears about Ron and Hermione. Well, mainly Hermione. Ron was his usual self - up until Fleur came in, at which point he was more like a Weasley version of Goyle or Crabbe, considering how spaced out and stupidly groggy he got in the wake of her presence. Hermione, meanwhile, kept looking at him like she thought he was about to die any second now or something. Even after Fleur had proceeded to infuriate her, she still managed all those sideways looks at him. He was about to tell her to quit it when the subject of Tonks took a whole new turn. His throat felt tight as he listened to Hermione's response.
Survivor's guilt. That was the best way to describe it. He hadn't even thought of Tonks - and suddenly, he started wondering about Remus.
Sirius was the last friend Remus had. He'd only just gotten him back - and he knew Sirius better then anyone. He knew even better then Harry how much it hurt to not have Sirius around anymore. A new guilt began to rise, a slightly ashamed one. Even though Hermione and Ron were there for him, he had felt so utterly destroyed by Sirius death he hadn't even considered how badly other people might feel. A part of him had even written off Hermione and Ron's grief for the man, feeling as though they hardly knew him. Yet...in comparison to Remus...he, Harry, was the one who barely knew Sirius.
Then a new thought came to him.
Remus was just as alone as he was.
He had very little time to think about this however, because Hermione set off Fred and George's device and the owls with the O.W.L's arrived. It wasn't until his sixteenth birthday that Harry finally saw or heard from Remus (Harry had scrapped about seventeen letters by that point as well, having a difficult time coming up with what to say) When he saw him, Harry knew he was right - Remus had practically fallen apart. He was shabbier then ever, gaunt and grey. Harry would have run to the man, if he had not been frozen in place by the man's grim tidings. The world sort of fell away as names of those taken - those killed - started floating around. He hurt slightly for Ollivander, but looking at Remus - thinking of Sirius - made it nothing more then a fleeting emotion. Still, he managed to squeeze away from everyone and take hold of Remus' arm in the hall just as he made to leave.
"Wait," he began, freezing as Remus turned his haunted hazel eyes on him. This was what caused so many scrapped letters - the fear that Remus hated him now. It wouldn't surprise Harry - nor, really, would he blame the man. The way Remus had stopped him from going through the veil after Sirius had caused him anger at first - then understanding. He knew, somehow, that Remus had saved him. Yet that, along with how Remus had joined in the defense against the Dursley's, had been forgotten during his letter writing attempts.
"Please," Harry tried again. "Can we...can we talk? I - "
"What is it, Harry?" Remus interrupted softly, his expression so downcast that Harry felt his chest tighten.
"Do you hate me?" Harry blurted, feeling instantly like an idiot. That had not at all been what he'd meant to say. 'I'm sorry about Sirius.' was what he had been trying to choke out, not
that. "Wait, that came out wrong - " He began, before stopping at the look on Remus' face. It was kind, but stern - which, considering the question confused the crap out of Harry and really made his worry rise.
"I do not hate you, Harry. I would have thought this conversation to be entirely the opposite, but no, Harry, I do not hate you. Nor do I blame you, for anything."
Harry felt sick, letting go of Remus' wrist to look away from him, wishing he hadn't eaten so much birthday cake and glad everyone else was still in the kitchen. "Maybe you should." He murmured, his voice cracking horribly.
"No." The word was firm, as too were the arms that wrapped around him, pulling Harry close to Remus. "No Harry. You cannot blame yourself for Sirius death. He wouldn't want that. He - he made his choice, Harry - and yes, yes there were circumstances - so many circumstances - not all of which could have been prevented. The fact remains, Harry. It was his choice. He wouldn't...he wouldn't want us to blame ourselves."
The use of 'us' was not lost on Harry, nor was the fact that Remus was trembling, his voice cracking. He hugged Remus back, feeling a mixture of relief and horror in knowing Remus not only didn't hate him, but knew exactly how he felt. Dumbledore - he said he understood, but he didn't. Remus understood - he probably hurt even worse then Harry did. Suddenly, Harry knew something. He knew he couldn't keep avoiding talking about Sirius - every time his name was mentioned or the subject was brought up, he couldn't keep running from it, getting angry and sad about it. He had to talk about Sirius - he had to keep Sirius' memories - the good ones - alive.
"I want to know more about him," Harry whispered, realizing that Remus, too, would need to learn to talk about Sirius without feeling that gaping hole. Something, he wasn't sure what, inspired him to add, "I want to know more about you, too."
Remus pulled away, looking down at Harry almost shrewdly. "And your father?" He asked, his voice odd.
"No." The answer surprised him - and clearly, it surprised Remus as well.
"No?" He repeated, confusion crossing his features.
"I know enough about my dad," As it came out, Harry realized it was true. "People tell me about him all the time. You were the first person to ever really talk to me about my mother. Dumbledore mentioned some things, but you were the first one to ever really go into detail." Something new occurred to him. "I'm really tired of people always telling me how much I look like my dad - but I have my mom's eyes. That's all people say to me when they see me - that, or they stare at my scar." Annoyance crawled through him as he continued. "I'm tired of always hearing about my Dad. I never had a chance to know him - or my mother - and although that makes me sad and a little bitter, I accept it." Harry sighed then, realizing the truth in his words more then Remus would realize. The Mirror of Erised - the ghosts of his parents - they had given him a false hope, but he knew better. Saying he accepted their deaths felt like a door closing, because he knew in that moment he'd let them go.
"Harry," Remus began, the hands on Harry's shoulders tensing slightly. The boy looked up at him, unknowingly pinning Remus with his eyes as he said steadily, "But I knew Sirius. I knew him and I loved him. He was the closest thing I ever had to a real Dad and he's gone now." Harry was aware of an itch in his eyes and pressed on, hoping against hope that he wouldn't cry. "I know you, Remus." As he said it, Harry realized with a jolt he'd been thinking of Remus as..well..Remus, rather then as Lupin. Unsure when that started or what to do about it, Harry finished what he meant to say while Remus blinked in surprise at the use of his first name. "And I know Sirius meant a lot to you. Probably meant everything to you, like he did to me. More to you, then to me," he added softly. "You knew him longer and your pain is bigger then mine, but we both lost him. We both hurt for him in a way our other friends can only pretend to understand. I want us to talk about him Remus. I don't want his name to be a source of pain, like it is right now. I know its going to hurt for a really long time, but maybe....no...I
know this will help ease it."
Remus looked at him for a long time before responding softly, "That is exceptionally wise of you, Harry." The boy blinked, and Remus smiled a bit. "You're right, you know. Talking will help - though the pain will last." He added, his voice growing hoarse again as Harry nodded grimly. Sighing, Remus gave the boy a pat on the shoulder. "How about I meet you during your trip to Diagon Alley? We could walk for a bit, then talk once we get back." Harry smiled at him - clearly relieved that his idea had not been rejected. "Alright."
Looking at the boy, Remus realized another truth - another wisdom - in the boy's actions. He was giving them both someone to lean on - someone to cry and grieve with. Remus realized, suddenly, that he could cry in front of Harry - and that it would not upset the boy at all. He would understand, entirely.
"Thank you, Harry." Remus stated, causing Harry to blink mildly, before nodding. "Thank you, too." He replied, before giving Remus another hug.
Just then, Molly interrupted.
"Oh, Remus, you're still here?"
Remus jerked his head up and was about to apologize for not having left when he said he was going to leave, but Molly's expression had grown soft and almost teary as she took them in. Remus felt himself grow a little cold as she said in that motherly voice of hers, "Ah, I see. Good. Good, you two ought to talk some more, I think. It'll help you both, I'm sure."
Surprisingly, Harry laughed and stepped from Remus' embrace.
"Yeah Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, smiling. "We know."
Looking clearly shocked, Molly turned to Remus, who shrugged. "It was his idea," he replied, feeling a smile tug at the corners of his own mouth. Molly blinked, and Remus found himself chuckling as well. "I hope you don't mind, Molly, but I promised Harry I'd meet with him on his trip to Diagon Alley - and sort of invited myself back here so we could talk. I should have asked you first - you don't mind, do you?"
Suddenly feeling as if she was talking to one of the twins when they were being mischievous - for, suddenly, Remus reminded her of a misbehaving child who was well aware of his cheek - Molly resisted her own urge to smile. To see happiness in either of these two right now was a rare and precious thing, she felt. "Of course not, Remus, you're more then welcome to visit Harry at any time." The two smiled and thanked her, before Remus stole a final, happier hug from Harry and took his leave properly.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Saturday took its own sweet time in coming, but Harry managed to avoid depressing himself for the most part. He thought about Sirius - and it still hurt to do so - but he also thought about Remus. It was going to be interesting, Harry realized, to get to know more about him. Stories of the Marauders had already been shared of course, of the big exploits like becoming Animagi and making the map. He knew about Sirius' family and his relationship with James and Remus - and Pettigrew. He knew Remus had liked his mother - that she had been kind to him. He knew being a werewolf was incredibly hard on Remus.
He knew basic things. Things anyone who did a little research could find out. He was being given a chance now - a chance he had thought would have been with Sirius, but had waited on because....because he had been naive enough to think Sirius would always be there. Back then, this chance had been an opportunity to truly get to know his father. Yet now...Harry felt it would be better to learn more about the men who were there for him physically. The ones he had known - and did know. It was almost cold, but Harry realized his father was gone - and that his absence did not hurt as much as Sirius' did because he'd never known the man. The more Harry thought, the more he realized that in all the time he thought of Sirius as a link to his Dad, he had really sacrificed a great deal. Anyone and their dog would have been willing to talk to him about James Potter - but who would talk about Sirius Black? He could have learned so much about him - but instead concentrated on learning about a dead man instead of the man right there in front of him.
He refused to make that same mistake with Remus. This wasn't going to be all about Sirius - he was determined to learn more about Remus, too. This desire to know was born out of more then the desire to grieve. It was a thought Harry had always had, since he was a child. When you form a bond with someone, you do it because you understand them and they understand you, on some basic level. The Dursely's didn't love him, because they didn't understand - or even want to understand - anything about him. There was no hope for a family there. When he arrived at Hogwarts, he'd learned more and more about his father. Harry knew, without a doubt, that he and his father would have been very close if James had lived. They would have loved one another dearly - and probably fought like wild about certain things. They were alike in a lot of ways - so it made sense to Harry that they'd butt heads. Harry also knew, from what little he'd heard, that he would have adored his mother. They would have been a beautiful family - but that wasn't how it was. In the way things were, Harry had hand picked his family the day he decided Ronald Weasley was his best friend.
Mrs. Weasley was definitely his mother - he'd often thought of her as mom when she'd hugged him or fussed over him. Ron and the twins were like brothers to him, and he admired Bill and Charlie. Mr. Weasley was sort of like the crazy uncle of the family - he amused Harry to no end with some of the things he said. It had been very hard not to grin when Mr. Weasley had said his dearest ambition was to learn how planes stayed up.
Then there'd been Sirius. At first, he was like a savior. Then things happened - mainly the whole having to stay on the run thing - and Sirius became a mentor and a guide. He'd been a link to his father - Harry deeply regretted thinking that now - and he'd been a friend. Then, he became like a father and a brother, just as Dumbledore had said. Losing him, Harry realized just how much he truly saw Sirius as a parent. He hadn't seen it fully until it was too late.
That was why he was spending so much time thinking about Remus. He was more then a teacher to Harry - more then a link to Sirius and his father. He was more then a friend, too. In a way...in a way, Remus was like a father too him as well. As the thought came to him, Harry knew it was right. He also knew, from all his regrets with Sirius, what he wanted to do about it. The words could wait - wait as long as both he and Remus needed to heal - but the intent would be there. He wasn't going to take Remus for granted, like he had Sirius. He'd make sure Remus knew he cared - but more like an uncle. Something told Harry Remus would be upset if Harry treated him like a father. It would seem too much like he was trying to replace Sirius (Maybe even James) with Remus - which Harry definitely thought about, because he wanted to make sure his own priorities were straight - but that wasn't the case. Still, it would be hard for Remus to understand - and Harry didn't want to hurt him. They both had enough to deal with.
Wandering into Madam Malkin's with his mind still on these subjects, it was like having a bucket of ice water thrown in his face to see Draco Malfoy. Disgust and hatred rose swiftly as he exchanged his words with the blond, before staring down his Death Eater mother. Hermione was urging him to lower his wand - and he knew she was right - but seeing Narcissa reminded him of her sister Bellatrix, bringing forth the fury of Sirius murderer going free once more. A thought in his mind, an inspiration from Draco himself, caused his lips to curve in what probably looked like a deranged grin (He was, actually, just honestly amused by what he was planning to do.) He moved his wand arm - Madam Malkin cried out, asking what in the world he thought he was doing - Narcissa made for her own wand, suddenly aware that Harry was honestly intending to attack her in broad daylight in the middle of a shop - when Remus voice cut through the air like a whip.
"Harry!"
No admonishment - no 'Stop!' - just,
Harry, in that scandalized tone. Instantly Harry lowered his wand, still glaring at Narcissa, who called for her son and left the store without a word - she didn't dare speak, not with so many witnesses. Her fury was insurmountable - the absolute disgrace of all of it irking her. That boy would pay for that little scene.
"Harry, I can't believe you would be so stupid!" Hermione shrieked, waving her hands around. "You can't just go around cursing people!"
"I didn't curse her!" He shouted back, slamming his wand back into his jeans.
"You were about to." The soft voice made them both shut up and look at Remus. Instantly, Harry felt something inside him wither. Already, he was being disappointing.
"I'm sorry," He was surprised at how choked his own voice sounded as he looked at Remus.
"Not as sorry as you would have been, if you'd completed that spell." Madam Malkin informed him, her voice soft. "What were you going to do?"
"Densaugeo," he admitted through numb lips, hearing Hermione's sharp intake of breath as Madame Malkin made a small choking sound.
"I'm sorry!" he said again, suddenly filled with a new sense of panic. Had he just broken a law?
Oh yeah. Probably like, six, or something.
Crap.
Suddenly Harry registered the fact that Madam Malkin was restraining what sounded suspiciously like giggles. He stared, and suddenly she got hold of herself and stated quite seriously,
"You need to be more careful, Harry. You can't attack people just by association - or accuse them. I don't blame you - and I certainly won't be reporting anything - but indiscretions like those could get you killed - or put in Azkaban."
Harry nodded and then went when he was waved over impatiently to be sized for his new robes. Once he was done, he darted to Remus while Malkin took care of Ron and Hermione. "Remus I - "
"No need to explain yourself Harry." A pause. "Or maybe there is...Densaugeo?" He asked, raising a brow.
"Draco sent it at Hermione in first year. Thought it would be nice if she looked as ugly as she acts - plus, its a nice irony."
Something flashed in Remus' eyes that made harry feel a little less like a kicked puppy. When Remus spoke, his heart felt both light and squeezed all at once.
"That sounds almost exactly like something Sirius would have done." A small frown took away from the words though. "And would have used his family name to weasel out of an expulsion for." Harry stared. "It was foolish of you to raise your wand against her like that Harry. Consider yourself very lucky you did not cast your spell." Harry nodded grimly, but that comment on Sirius family name irked him for some reason. "I thought he hated being a Black."
"He did. But being a Black was also convenient for him, at times, and he saw fit to use that convenience as often as possible when he found he'd overstepped his boundaries at Hogwarts."
"That was Slytherin of him," Harry blurted before he could stop himself.
Remus smiled. "Yes it was, Harry. It was
very Slytherin of him."
If it hadn't been for the smile, Harry would have rebelled at the idea of such a Slytherin quality in Sirius, but he knew Remus spoke the truth. He also had a feeling this was one of those things you wouldn't be able to just find out easily - Sirius throwing around the Black name, maybe - but Sirius being Slytherin-like...maybe not so much.
"Well. You have your things Harry, Ron, Hermione." The other two had wandered over. "I say its time to get going. Madam Malkin," he added, nodding respectfully - and gratefully - to her, before ushering the kids out and angling them towards Fred and George's shop.
