DISCLAIMER: It's all JK. I own zip. Less than zip, actually, as I'm making payments on a lotta stuff.
*****
"You could say to the universe this is not fair. And the universe would say: Oh, it isn't? Sorry."
-Terry Pratchett, Soul Music
*****
Harry hadn't fixed the two-way mirror. He left it in shards, which now rested atop his dresser next to Hedwig's cage and the remains of the penknife that had once been able to undo any lock. He debated throwing the broken items away, but hadn't been able to bring himself to do it. He'd thought about taking the things Sirius had given him and putting them away for now. He decided against it. Somehow it felt like doing that would mean Sirius was really gone.
He lay on his bed, face towards the ceiling. He couldn't make the thoughts stop. He kept replaying the scene in his head, over and over, and it hurt every time. It didn't feel like he would ever be able to close his eyes without seeing Sirius fall. Opening his eyes just meant he got to stare at the ceiling while watching it happen again in his head. He wasn't sleeping enough. He definitely wasn't eating enough. He couldn't make himself care.
With a sigh that was half-frustration, half-defeat, he turned his head. His eyes fell on the Firebolt, which was propped up against the wall behind the door. He wondered if he'd be able to play Quidditch again this year. He was sure Dumbledore would repeal Umbridge's ban, but they already had a cup-winning team. They didn't need him. He'd probably be dead by the end of the year anyway.
Harry smiled bitterly to himself. That had started out as a normal thought.
He could hear Aunt Petunia's voice from downstairs, but he tried to tune her out. He wanted quiet. He wanted stillness. He wanted to close his eyes and not open them again until September. Maybe he didn't want to open them at all.
The voice grew shriller, and was joined by Uncle Vernon's bellowing. Harry couldn't take it anymore. He rolled off his bed, threw open the door and stomped to the stairs to ask them very nicely to shut the hell up already-
Harry blinked. "Professor Lupin!"
Remus Lupin smiled at him from the bottom of the stairs. It almost looked as if he'd been ready to come up to get him. "Hello, Harry. Your uncle was just trying to explain to me that you don't live here."
Uncle Vernon shot an evil glare at Lupin, who looked unaware but was probably just ignoring him.
"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, making his way down the stairs.
"I thought we could have a talk."
Here it was. He had ignored fussing letters of reassurance and now someone was here to do it in person. Harry felt his heart sink to his feet, but he couldn't very well say "Thanks for coming over and getting screamed at by my relatives, but not right now, thanks."
"Okay," Harry said.
"You are not taking him out of this house!" Uncle Vernon shouted. He hadn't been screaming for long before Harry came out of his room, but his face was already turning blotchy and purple. Aunt Petunia clung to his arm as if waiting for the violence and magic to start. Dudley was standing in the corner, his back to the wall, rigid and terrified.
"Yes, I am," said Lupin calmly. "Don't worry, I'll return him in one piece."
Harry quickly led the way outside with Uncle Vernon shouting "How dare you!" and such at their retreating backs.
Once they were outside and the door was safely closed, Lupin shook his head. "So that's why you don't go home for Christmas."
"Yeah," he said lamely. "Um, there's a park just up there."
"Lead the way. You know, I'm not your professor anymore," he reminded Harry.
"I know. It's just habit," Harry explained. Lupin had told him this once before, but it had felt strange to call him anything else. He couldn't call him "Remus" without feeling weird.
They didn't talk again until they neared the park, the same one where this whole mess had started last year. They took seats on a bench overlooking the playground, and only now did it feel safe to talk. "How did you get here?" Harry asked.
"I apparated. I had some business to discuss with Arabella before I came here. Have you been getting our updates?" Lupin asked.
"Yeah." He didn't admit that he had stopped reading the letters people were sending him. The Order had decided to keep him apprised of the situation, but Harry didn't want to know anymore. He was even ignoring the letters from Ron and Hermione, knowing they would be full of whatever details they were allowed to know and tell, or there would be vague hints to the things they couldn't. He didn't see the point. He knew everyone was only telling him what they thought he should hear. Harry knew his part in this thing. It was him or Voldemort. Kill or be killed. Just the kind of role he thought he would be playing at sixteen years old.
He frowned, suddenly feeling suspicious and a little angry. "Is that why you're here? What, the Order fought over who had to see me first?"
"No, we fought over who got to see you first," Lupin told him, with the faintest ghost of a smile. "I think Tonks was really put out by that. We've all been wanting to talk to you, but... thought you might need some time."
There wasn't enough time in the world. Harry shoved his hands into his pockets. "What changed?"
"Actually, Hermione sent me an owl. She was concerned because no one had heard from you all summer."
"Haven't had much to say."
"How are you doing?" Lupin asked.
Harry felt a flash of irritation, though he didn't exactly know why. He wanted to scream "How do you think I'm doing?" and rage until his throat was raw. Instead he just shrugged.
A second later it occurred to him to ask, "How are you?"
Lupin looked a little surprised at that. "Some days are better than others," he said, and added, "Today is worse."
"Because of me?" Harry asked, and he knew he was being a brat. He didn't mean to be. He couldn't help it.
"Because I can't help but wonder if James and... and Sirius aren't somewhere yelling at me for not knowing what to say to you."
The honesty was strangely comforting. Since June adults had been telling him that everything would be all right and yet Harry knew better. None of them felt that things would be all right. They said things that they thought would make him feel better, but none of them did. In fact, hurrying things to be okay made it seem like everyone was rushing to forget Sirius. He'd almost liked staying with the Dursleys this summer simply because they didn't know what had happened and didn't treat him any differently. To hear someone admit that they weren't okay...
"You're doing fine," Harry said in a small voice.
"I'm trying not to use the clichŽs. I'm sick of them myself," Lupin admitted.
Of course, Lupin would be getting the kind words and the worried/pitiful glances from everyone around him. Harry hadn't really thought about that. "I'm sure you are," he said.
"I don't think Hestia really knew what else to say, but... She actually said that she was sure Sirius was in a better place," said Lupin with a grimace. "For a minute it took everything I had not to... just... poke her in the eye with my wand."
Harry laughed in spite of himself, the first time he had laughed since June. "They try," Lupin continued with a shake of his head. "Everyone loses people, but no one ever knows the right words to say when it happens."
"They should," Harry protested. "They all knew Sirius!"
"What would you say to someone who just lost a family member?"
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but found that the only words that came to mind were "I'm sorry," which had to be the worst possible thing anyone could say. Of course everyone was sorry. It didn't change anything, and admitting that you felt bad about it just meant one more person was feeling bad.
When he did speak, he blurted, "I didn't know Sirius that well."
Lupin frowned, but nodded. "He deserved more time," he said quietly. "He wanted to get to know you better, Harry. He really did love you."
Harry's vision blurred suddenly, but he blinked back the tears. He hadn't cried since leaving Hogwarts. He hadn't thought he had it in him anymore. Now seeing that wasn't true, he felt a strange determination not to cry, to be strong about it. Everyone else was going on with their lives, so he had to show that he was at least making an effort, didn't he?
He looked up at the man sitting beside him, wondering exactly how close he and Sirius had been. Harry had been tempted to ask Sirius that question once or twice, but it had always felt like a strange one to ask. He didn't want things to be awkward if he was wrong. And now... Now it didn't seem to matter.
No, it did matter, because not only was it one more thing Harry would never be able to ask. It mattered because Lupin was sitting right here and Sirius' death had affected him too and Harry suspected it was an entirely different pain. He could have kicked himself. He faced Voldemort five times, yet he couldn't be man enough to ask this question.
Instead he said quietly, "I still think there's a chance. Like one day I'm going to see Snuffles sitting on the doorstep."
"So do I," said Lupin. "I still hope. I may never stop hoping."
"Does it get easier?"
Lupin thought about it for a little longer than Harry would have liked, and said, "I think after a while it hurts differently. When, um. When James and Lily died... Months, years later, I would think about them thanks to something trivial, and it would bring it right back. You start thinking you're horrible for not thinking of them right away, or not having thought about them as often as you think you should have. The day-to-day things, though... It does get easier."
"Has it gotten easier?" wondered Harry.
"Not yet."
"Does it feel like it won't?"
"Every day."
Harry felt his chest tighten, and forced himself to ask, "Did you love him?"
Lupin went quiet again for the briefest of moments, no longer meeting his gaze. "Yes."
A simple question, a simple answer, but Harry understood the meaning behind the "yes." He felt his jaw muscles tense out of anger. One more thing he hadn't known about Sirius when he was alive. This was something he should have heard from Sirius himself. This was one more conversation they would never get to have. "Who decides life gets to go like this?" Harry demanded, standing from the bench in a desperate attempt to pace his frustration out. "I mean, Sirius just... This isn't fair."
"No, it's not," said Lupin, watching Harry as he wandered back and forth in front of him. "Unfortunately, we don't get a say in it."
He stopped abruptly directly in front of his former professor, once again blinking his vision clear. "I'm sorry," Harry said, and hated himself for saying it. "I mean... It's my fault he was there. If I hadn't been stupid, and if I hadn't gone, and if I had just looked at the mirror and thought for two seconds... Everyone kept telling me to stop and think and I didn't."
"Sirius didn't think, either, Harry," Lupin said, his voice sounding the tiniest bit strained. "He made his own choice in going to the Ministry. He... He knew the risks."
Harry had raged at Dumbledore for blaming Sirius for his own death, but he didn't want to yell at Lupin for it. Maybe it was having some time between then and now that made the difference. Maybe he just knew better. "I went, and everyone followed me. Ron and Hermione and Ginny and... They had to be there for that. If I hadn't gone-"
"It isn't your fault. It isn't. Sirius never would have blamed you, and I don't, either. You definitely shouldn't. You didn't make anyone go with you. You didn't kill Sirius."
"I..." I'm going to get everyone around me killed, he wanted to say, but couldn't voice it. Those words felt too horrible to say. Harry sat down again, taking his glasses off in order to bury his face in his hands. He was not going to cry here. He was determined to hold himself together. He refused to go back to the Dursleys' looking like he'd been crying. As far as he was concerned, they didn't get to know anything about this.
After a moment, when he had taken a few deep breaths, he pulled his hands away and put his glasses back on. "Are you okay?" Lupin asked him.
Harry nodded. When he looked over, he saw that Lupin looked a little shaky himself.
Harry hadn't known Sirius as well as either of them would have liked, but he was realizing he didn't know Lupin very well, either. It struck him as sad. Until this year he had never really thought about losing anyone close to him, and right now he was thinking of all the people he could lose without ever getting a chance to be close to them. The thought panicked him. The thought of himself dying... Harry was getting scarily used to that. It was losing everyone else that hurt.
"Should we head back?" Lupin asked.
Harry nodded, not trusting his voice. He was relieved that this was over. He wasn't sure how much more he could take.
They made their way back to Privet Drive in silence until Number Four was in view. "Will you do me a favor?" said Lupin. "Write to Ron or Hermione, make sure they know you're all right? You can tell them if you're not."
No, he couldn't. Ron and Hermione had been there, they had known Sirius, but they didn't understand. Harry nodded anyway.
"And you know... You can come to me, if you need to talk."
Harry stopped in front of the house. "Will you come back to see me?"
Lupin's eyes widened the tiniest bit, the only clue that he hadn't expected that question. "If you want me to," he said.
He was surprised at how badly he did. "Yeah. When you have time. I mean..."
"I think I can fit you into my schedule," said Lupin with a slightly wry tone.
Harry felt that horrible tight feeling in his chest ease a bit. Lupin couldn't replace Sirius, and he was probably smart enough not to try, but he wanted to be there for Harry. That meant a lot. "Thanks," he said.
"Thank you, Harry." He squeezed Harry's shoulder- they hadn't graduated to hugs yet.
Harry turned and started walking towards the door, but stopped halfway. "You might want to back out now," he warned. "I'm a curse to the people who try to take care of me."
"You've got enough people trying to take care of you, Harry," Lupin said. "I'm just trying to be there."
*****
"You could say to the universe this is not fair. And the universe would say: Oh, it isn't? Sorry."
-Terry Pratchett, Soul Music
*****
Harry hadn't fixed the two-way mirror. He left it in shards, which now rested atop his dresser next to Hedwig's cage and the remains of the penknife that had once been able to undo any lock. He debated throwing the broken items away, but hadn't been able to bring himself to do it. He'd thought about taking the things Sirius had given him and putting them away for now. He decided against it. Somehow it felt like doing that would mean Sirius was really gone.
He lay on his bed, face towards the ceiling. He couldn't make the thoughts stop. He kept replaying the scene in his head, over and over, and it hurt every time. It didn't feel like he would ever be able to close his eyes without seeing Sirius fall. Opening his eyes just meant he got to stare at the ceiling while watching it happen again in his head. He wasn't sleeping enough. He definitely wasn't eating enough. He couldn't make himself care.
With a sigh that was half-frustration, half-defeat, he turned his head. His eyes fell on the Firebolt, which was propped up against the wall behind the door. He wondered if he'd be able to play Quidditch again this year. He was sure Dumbledore would repeal Umbridge's ban, but they already had a cup-winning team. They didn't need him. He'd probably be dead by the end of the year anyway.
Harry smiled bitterly to himself. That had started out as a normal thought.
He could hear Aunt Petunia's voice from downstairs, but he tried to tune her out. He wanted quiet. He wanted stillness. He wanted to close his eyes and not open them again until September. Maybe he didn't want to open them at all.
The voice grew shriller, and was joined by Uncle Vernon's bellowing. Harry couldn't take it anymore. He rolled off his bed, threw open the door and stomped to the stairs to ask them very nicely to shut the hell up already-
Harry blinked. "Professor Lupin!"
Remus Lupin smiled at him from the bottom of the stairs. It almost looked as if he'd been ready to come up to get him. "Hello, Harry. Your uncle was just trying to explain to me that you don't live here."
Uncle Vernon shot an evil glare at Lupin, who looked unaware but was probably just ignoring him.
"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, making his way down the stairs.
"I thought we could have a talk."
Here it was. He had ignored fussing letters of reassurance and now someone was here to do it in person. Harry felt his heart sink to his feet, but he couldn't very well say "Thanks for coming over and getting screamed at by my relatives, but not right now, thanks."
"Okay," Harry said.
"You are not taking him out of this house!" Uncle Vernon shouted. He hadn't been screaming for long before Harry came out of his room, but his face was already turning blotchy and purple. Aunt Petunia clung to his arm as if waiting for the violence and magic to start. Dudley was standing in the corner, his back to the wall, rigid and terrified.
"Yes, I am," said Lupin calmly. "Don't worry, I'll return him in one piece."
Harry quickly led the way outside with Uncle Vernon shouting "How dare you!" and such at their retreating backs.
Once they were outside and the door was safely closed, Lupin shook his head. "So that's why you don't go home for Christmas."
"Yeah," he said lamely. "Um, there's a park just up there."
"Lead the way. You know, I'm not your professor anymore," he reminded Harry.
"I know. It's just habit," Harry explained. Lupin had told him this once before, but it had felt strange to call him anything else. He couldn't call him "Remus" without feeling weird.
They didn't talk again until they neared the park, the same one where this whole mess had started last year. They took seats on a bench overlooking the playground, and only now did it feel safe to talk. "How did you get here?" Harry asked.
"I apparated. I had some business to discuss with Arabella before I came here. Have you been getting our updates?" Lupin asked.
"Yeah." He didn't admit that he had stopped reading the letters people were sending him. The Order had decided to keep him apprised of the situation, but Harry didn't want to know anymore. He was even ignoring the letters from Ron and Hermione, knowing they would be full of whatever details they were allowed to know and tell, or there would be vague hints to the things they couldn't. He didn't see the point. He knew everyone was only telling him what they thought he should hear. Harry knew his part in this thing. It was him or Voldemort. Kill or be killed. Just the kind of role he thought he would be playing at sixteen years old.
He frowned, suddenly feeling suspicious and a little angry. "Is that why you're here? What, the Order fought over who had to see me first?"
"No, we fought over who got to see you first," Lupin told him, with the faintest ghost of a smile. "I think Tonks was really put out by that. We've all been wanting to talk to you, but... thought you might need some time."
There wasn't enough time in the world. Harry shoved his hands into his pockets. "What changed?"
"Actually, Hermione sent me an owl. She was concerned because no one had heard from you all summer."
"Haven't had much to say."
"How are you doing?" Lupin asked.
Harry felt a flash of irritation, though he didn't exactly know why. He wanted to scream "How do you think I'm doing?" and rage until his throat was raw. Instead he just shrugged.
A second later it occurred to him to ask, "How are you?"
Lupin looked a little surprised at that. "Some days are better than others," he said, and added, "Today is worse."
"Because of me?" Harry asked, and he knew he was being a brat. He didn't mean to be. He couldn't help it.
"Because I can't help but wonder if James and... and Sirius aren't somewhere yelling at me for not knowing what to say to you."
The honesty was strangely comforting. Since June adults had been telling him that everything would be all right and yet Harry knew better. None of them felt that things would be all right. They said things that they thought would make him feel better, but none of them did. In fact, hurrying things to be okay made it seem like everyone was rushing to forget Sirius. He'd almost liked staying with the Dursleys this summer simply because they didn't know what had happened and didn't treat him any differently. To hear someone admit that they weren't okay...
"You're doing fine," Harry said in a small voice.
"I'm trying not to use the clichŽs. I'm sick of them myself," Lupin admitted.
Of course, Lupin would be getting the kind words and the worried/pitiful glances from everyone around him. Harry hadn't really thought about that. "I'm sure you are," he said.
"I don't think Hestia really knew what else to say, but... She actually said that she was sure Sirius was in a better place," said Lupin with a grimace. "For a minute it took everything I had not to... just... poke her in the eye with my wand."
Harry laughed in spite of himself, the first time he had laughed since June. "They try," Lupin continued with a shake of his head. "Everyone loses people, but no one ever knows the right words to say when it happens."
"They should," Harry protested. "They all knew Sirius!"
"What would you say to someone who just lost a family member?"
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but found that the only words that came to mind were "I'm sorry," which had to be the worst possible thing anyone could say. Of course everyone was sorry. It didn't change anything, and admitting that you felt bad about it just meant one more person was feeling bad.
When he did speak, he blurted, "I didn't know Sirius that well."
Lupin frowned, but nodded. "He deserved more time," he said quietly. "He wanted to get to know you better, Harry. He really did love you."
Harry's vision blurred suddenly, but he blinked back the tears. He hadn't cried since leaving Hogwarts. He hadn't thought he had it in him anymore. Now seeing that wasn't true, he felt a strange determination not to cry, to be strong about it. Everyone else was going on with their lives, so he had to show that he was at least making an effort, didn't he?
He looked up at the man sitting beside him, wondering exactly how close he and Sirius had been. Harry had been tempted to ask Sirius that question once or twice, but it had always felt like a strange one to ask. He didn't want things to be awkward if he was wrong. And now... Now it didn't seem to matter.
No, it did matter, because not only was it one more thing Harry would never be able to ask. It mattered because Lupin was sitting right here and Sirius' death had affected him too and Harry suspected it was an entirely different pain. He could have kicked himself. He faced Voldemort five times, yet he couldn't be man enough to ask this question.
Instead he said quietly, "I still think there's a chance. Like one day I'm going to see Snuffles sitting on the doorstep."
"So do I," said Lupin. "I still hope. I may never stop hoping."
"Does it get easier?"
Lupin thought about it for a little longer than Harry would have liked, and said, "I think after a while it hurts differently. When, um. When James and Lily died... Months, years later, I would think about them thanks to something trivial, and it would bring it right back. You start thinking you're horrible for not thinking of them right away, or not having thought about them as often as you think you should have. The day-to-day things, though... It does get easier."
"Has it gotten easier?" wondered Harry.
"Not yet."
"Does it feel like it won't?"
"Every day."
Harry felt his chest tighten, and forced himself to ask, "Did you love him?"
Lupin went quiet again for the briefest of moments, no longer meeting his gaze. "Yes."
A simple question, a simple answer, but Harry understood the meaning behind the "yes." He felt his jaw muscles tense out of anger. One more thing he hadn't known about Sirius when he was alive. This was something he should have heard from Sirius himself. This was one more conversation they would never get to have. "Who decides life gets to go like this?" Harry demanded, standing from the bench in a desperate attempt to pace his frustration out. "I mean, Sirius just... This isn't fair."
"No, it's not," said Lupin, watching Harry as he wandered back and forth in front of him. "Unfortunately, we don't get a say in it."
He stopped abruptly directly in front of his former professor, once again blinking his vision clear. "I'm sorry," Harry said, and hated himself for saying it. "I mean... It's my fault he was there. If I hadn't been stupid, and if I hadn't gone, and if I had just looked at the mirror and thought for two seconds... Everyone kept telling me to stop and think and I didn't."
"Sirius didn't think, either, Harry," Lupin said, his voice sounding the tiniest bit strained. "He made his own choice in going to the Ministry. He... He knew the risks."
Harry had raged at Dumbledore for blaming Sirius for his own death, but he didn't want to yell at Lupin for it. Maybe it was having some time between then and now that made the difference. Maybe he just knew better. "I went, and everyone followed me. Ron and Hermione and Ginny and... They had to be there for that. If I hadn't gone-"
"It isn't your fault. It isn't. Sirius never would have blamed you, and I don't, either. You definitely shouldn't. You didn't make anyone go with you. You didn't kill Sirius."
"I..." I'm going to get everyone around me killed, he wanted to say, but couldn't voice it. Those words felt too horrible to say. Harry sat down again, taking his glasses off in order to bury his face in his hands. He was not going to cry here. He was determined to hold himself together. He refused to go back to the Dursleys' looking like he'd been crying. As far as he was concerned, they didn't get to know anything about this.
After a moment, when he had taken a few deep breaths, he pulled his hands away and put his glasses back on. "Are you okay?" Lupin asked him.
Harry nodded. When he looked over, he saw that Lupin looked a little shaky himself.
Harry hadn't known Sirius as well as either of them would have liked, but he was realizing he didn't know Lupin very well, either. It struck him as sad. Until this year he had never really thought about losing anyone close to him, and right now he was thinking of all the people he could lose without ever getting a chance to be close to them. The thought panicked him. The thought of himself dying... Harry was getting scarily used to that. It was losing everyone else that hurt.
"Should we head back?" Lupin asked.
Harry nodded, not trusting his voice. He was relieved that this was over. He wasn't sure how much more he could take.
They made their way back to Privet Drive in silence until Number Four was in view. "Will you do me a favor?" said Lupin. "Write to Ron or Hermione, make sure they know you're all right? You can tell them if you're not."
No, he couldn't. Ron and Hermione had been there, they had known Sirius, but they didn't understand. Harry nodded anyway.
"And you know... You can come to me, if you need to talk."
Harry stopped in front of the house. "Will you come back to see me?"
Lupin's eyes widened the tiniest bit, the only clue that he hadn't expected that question. "If you want me to," he said.
He was surprised at how badly he did. "Yeah. When you have time. I mean..."
"I think I can fit you into my schedule," said Lupin with a slightly wry tone.
Harry felt that horrible tight feeling in his chest ease a bit. Lupin couldn't replace Sirius, and he was probably smart enough not to try, but he wanted to be there for Harry. That meant a lot. "Thanks," he said.
"Thank you, Harry." He squeezed Harry's shoulder- they hadn't graduated to hugs yet.
Harry turned and started walking towards the door, but stopped halfway. "You might want to back out now," he warned. "I'm a curse to the people who try to take care of me."
"You've got enough people trying to take care of you, Harry," Lupin said. "I'm just trying to be there."