The Missing Easter Holidays

by AMuggleStudent

Have you ever noticed how Harry has got Easter holidays in every year at Hogwarts, except for his sixth? In this fic, he is invited to the Burrow and has the conversation with Remus Lupin that I had hoped he would have somewhere in the 'Half Blood Prince'.

The Easter holidays came as a welcome interruption of the numerous endeavours Harry had been trying to follow, apart from his usual coursework so far with no success. Mr and Mrs Weasley had invited Harry to stay in the Burrow together with Hermione, who had agreed to join them during the week as she wanted to spend some days with her parents. If possible, Mrs Weasley greeted Harry even more enthusiastically than before when Harry stepped out of the fireplace at the Burrow, and Harry wondered if she was still thinking of Ron's poisoning a few weeks before.

'It's very good to see you, how have you all been?' Mr Weasley asked cheerfully, brushing ashes from Ron's robes, who had emerged just behind Harry.

'Let's sit down, Molly has just made some tea.' The scones on the Weasleys' kitchen table looked delicious and Harry noticed with a tingling on the back of his head that Ginny chose to sit down right next to him.

'Ready for the Apparition test then? I overheard a conversation at the Ministry of two wizards from Magical Transportation, and apparently it's soon, isn't it?'

Ron's face fell, so Harry felt compelled to answer quickly. 'Yeah, it's at the end of the month. I won't take it yet though, I won't be seventeen until July.'

'Of course, I had forgotten about that. Well, never mind, it only gives you more time to practice.' Mr Weasley smiled, but Harry had the impression he was preoccupied about something.

Mrs Weasley, too, looked rather worried, despite trying her best to appear otherwise.

'Is anything the matter, Mum?' Ginny asked.

'Oh, well, don't worry, dear,' said Mrs Weasley, looking uneasily at Mr Weasley.

'We might as well tell them, they'll hear anyway,' Mr Weasley sighed. 'We've received some rather bad news, just before you arrived. Apparently, Remus Lupin has been arrested together with a group of werewolves he was with. For the moment we don't know anything, but Bill is still at the Ministry, trying to find out more.'

Harry's heart sank, he had vaguely hoped to see Lupin again while staying with the Weasleys.

'On what grounds are they arresting werewolves?' he asked.

'We don't know much, but the Ministry has been very anti-werewolf of late, they've restructured the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and I'm afraid we can't expect much help coming from that side.'

Their fears were confirmed by Bill Weasley, who returned from the Ministry to inform them that he had been in the Atrium when a small group of ragged-looking men and women, magically chained, had been escorted to the Basement and that Lupin had been among them.

When Harry was lying on his now familiar camp bed in Ron's small attic room some time later, Ron voiced what had been on Harry's mind as well.

'It's just getting tight around the Order, don't you think?' asked Ron. 'With Emmeline Vance being killed, and now with Lupin arrested. They're getting worried...'

Harry nodded. It was surprisingly easy to forget what was going on outside Hogwarts with everything he was busy with these days. And he just knew Malfoy had something to do with the wider perspective of the events, that he was on a mission, while he, Harry was told to focus on an old teacher's memory...

They eagerly awaited the arrival of Kingsley Shacklebolt for dinner the next evening, as he was bound to bring some news from the Ministry. Tonks was there, too, looking just as depressing as when Harry had met her at Hogwarts. Behind her back, Ron cast Harry a meaningful glance, mouthing the words 'She's losing it!' when Tonks managed to spill a full mug of tea over the whole table as she sat down. That wasn't entirely true, as Tonks had been clumsy before, but Harry couldn't help thinking that Ron had a point when she vaguely tried to clear up the spill with the sleeve of her robes. The back door opened and Bill and Kingsley entered; Harry, Ron and Ginny quickly found themselves a seat so as not to be sent away, but nobody seemed to mind their presence.

'It's quite horrible,' Kingsley said as he stripped off his travelling cloak and sat down at the table. 'They're keeping the werewolves in small cages, like dog kennels, in a basement corridor. The place is damp and smells, and from what I could see they're only giving them raw meat to eat. I used a spell on one of the guards and tried to speak to Remus, said we were thinking of a plan, but he replied that he'd rather...be where he belonged.'

'What?', Harry blurted out, 'why would he think that? He's on our side, isn't he, he doesn't belong with them.'

Mr Weasley exchanged a look with Kingsley before he turned to Harry.

'Of course Remus is on our side. But he's always struggled with the fact that he turns into something very dangerous to other people once a month. He's been terribly afraid of harming somebody during the full moon.'

Harry remembered Lupin saying something in that direction after the night in his third year, when Lupin had accidentally transformed in the presence of himself, Ron and Hermione.

'Well, but he didn't,' Harry looked at Kingsley and Mr Weasley, who suddenly seemed to avoid his eye, 'or did he?'

'It seems', Kingsley said slowly, 'that the pack he was with was found with the remnants of a human body. They're currently investigating who it was, probably a muggle. While I don't doubt in the slightest that Remus would have done everything in his powers to prevent this while in his human mind, his werewolf instincts might have got the better of him, when offered with the opportunity.' Harry's guts lurched uncomfortably, Ginny gasped and quickly put her hand in front of her mouth, looking shocked. This piece of information was apparently news to half the table. After a moment of stunned silence, Tonks let out a small moan and buried her face in her hands.

'He won't take it. If really he's eaten someone...parts of someone...he'll never forgive himself when he realises.' Mrs Weasley reached a hand across the table and patted Tonks's elbow.

'I must say, I've wondered for a while now whether it really was wise to ask Remus of all people to live among the werewolves,' said Mrs Weasley reproachfully. 'They are obviously celebrating a lifestyle he's tried to avoid at all costs, so why expose him to...to that side of it.'

Harry found the thought of his former teacher ripping flesh from a body deeply unnerving. He had seen Lupin in his werewolf state, a monster indeed, but very clearly not the man he was the rest of the month. For a long moment, everybody in the room seemed lost in their own discomforting thoughts, staring onto their plates or nowhere in particular.

'What is the sentence for werewolves who kill someone during the full moon?' Ginny asked Kingsley, her voice shaking slightly.

'It used to be Azkaban, and I guess it still is, though Umbridge is doing her best to...to try to expand the death penalty valid for dangerous magical creatures to what she calls half-breeds...'

Memories flashed into Harry's mind of a chained Hippogriff in Hagrid's pumpkin patch and the huge ax in the hands of its executioner.

'Is there any way to get him out?', he asked, rather more loudly than he had intended to.

Kingsley shrugged. 'We have to try it. The corridor with the kennels is guarded, though I daresay they haven't put the brightest bunch on duty down there. The real problem is leaving the Ministry.'

'It will be hard if he refuses to cooperate, we'd almost have to take him by force,' Bill pointed out, his expression worried.

'Apparently, Remus's group is going to be tried on Tuesday early afternoon, that's in two days, and after the sentence they will probably be removed from the Ministry straight away. Our best chance is to get him before the trial. Also, from what I've heard the guards say, Remus is refusing to eat, so we should probably try as early as we can. I can't do it, it already was somewhat risky just going down to have a look, as I don't usually have business with the Magical Creatures Department', said Kingsley.

They continued discussing and discarding possible strategies to kidnap Lupin all through dinner and pudding. Suddenly Tonks, who had rarely contributed any ideas, said slowly 'There's this fireplace in the offices of the Floo Regulation Panel. One of the Regulators, Dorean Plymstrode, he keeps on boasting to me how his fireplace is one of the few unmonitored ones with outside connection because of all the important tasks he's performing on the Network.' She snorted. 'He's a prick, but I think he fancies me a bit. I could distract him, make him leave the office for a moment. It's the first to the right if you exit the lifts on Level 6, so if you made it there, you could floo to somewhere and then apparate.'

'That's it!' Bill slammed a fist on the table. 'I'm supposed to come in late on Tuesday. We should be at least two, and we'd need Invisibility Cloaks, but I guess this is our best shot!'

Mrs Weasley was obviously worried about this turn the plan was taking, but the rest went on to discuss its finer points with new energy. When Harry finally got up from the table, stretching his back, the plan sounded risky, but sound. He was pleased that he, Ron and Ginny had been allowed to sit in on the planning, though he wished there was something he could do to help.

Two days later, Hermione had arrived at the Burrow as well; she had been close to tears when Harry and Ron had told her everything that had happened in the past days. Now they sat together in the kitchen of the Burrow, trying to finish a complicated essay for Slughorn on Antidotes, but shooting nervous glances at the regular clock over the kitchen door every minute. Mrs. Weasley, who had refused any offer to help her with lunch preparations, jumped at every sound from outside and kept looking out of the window.

'They should have been back already...', she mumbled, mostly to herself, viciously slicing celeries, 'if only they return alright...'.

Suddenly, voices erupted outside and it sounded as if somebody had just tripped over one of the wellington boots. Ron was the first to reach the back door, yanking it open as Bill and Hestia Jones stumbled into the kitchen, supporting Lupin between them who was deadly white and unconscious.

'It's ok, we made it,' Bill panted as they carried Lupin through to the living room, Mrs Weasley rushing along behind them, 'but only just. Hestia's Invisibility Cloak slipped just as we turned round the corner and we had to make a run for it, not sure if they recognised us. We were lucky we made it into an empty lift just before they reached us and could floo from the fireplace. Didn't see Tonks and the guy anywhere.' They lowered Lupin's limp body on the sofa.

'Bill and I have to return immediately', Hestia announced, straightening up and wiping sweat from her face, 'or they'll suspect us. He really refused to come,' she added with a sad look at Lupin, 'so be prepared when he wakes up.' Mrs Weasley accompanied Bill and Hestia to the door, making hasty inquiries after Mr Weasley and possible consequences of their nearly being seen, while Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny remained in the living room, standing awkwardly around the sofa.

'He doesn't look too good, does he?' said Ron, sounding doubtful.

In fact, Lupin looked worse than Harry had ever seen him, emaciated and almost translucent.

'I hope he'll see sense', Hermione sounded almost frightened. Harry didn't know what to say. How would he feel if he had eaten a part of someone?

Mrs Weasley returned and shooed them out, but as nobody was interested in continuing Slughorn's essay, they climbed the stairs to Ron's bedroom and half-heartedly discussed Malfoy's business in the Room of Requirement for about the tenth time in the holidays.

Later in the afternoon, Lupin had still not regained conscience, so they had agreed on someone staying in the living room in case he woke up. Harry, Hermione and Ron had taken up their Potions essay again, spreading their books and parchment all over the floor, while Ginny had decided to work in her room. Harry secretely wondered if she was writing to Dean.

'I just wish we could get away with flashing a bezoar again!' Ron complained fervently while they were pouring over an advanced formula for antidotes that made Golpalott's Third Law look tame by comparison.

'Well, since you have recently discovered quite an appetite for them, why don't you just try?' asked Hermione, vexed, as Harry guessed, by her difficulties in reeling off a perfectly formulated paragraph herself. A rustling noise from the sofa had their heads fly round. Lupin stirred feebly and eventually opened his eyes. With a wave of relief, Harry got up and took a few steps to where Lupin was lying.

'Hello, Remus. How are you?' Hermione asked eagerly.

Lupin blinked confusedly at his surroundings, barely moving his head.

'Why am I here?', he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

'Bill and Hestia Jones rescued you from the Ministry, we're in the Burrow', Harry replied, feeling slightly uncomfortable as Lupin gave no sign of being happy about that fact.

Instead, Lupin softly breathed out and closed his eyes, his face still white as chalk.

'Would you like to drink something?', Hermione asked, reaching for a jug of water and a glass on a small table nearby that Mrs Weasley must have left there.

Almost imperceptibly, Lupin shook his head.

'Look, you need to drink and eat something,' Harry tried to avoid sounding like Madam Pomfrey. Lupin's eyelids fluttered, and Harry suddenly got the horrible feeling that it might be too late already, that Lupin was dying right on the spot.

'I'm going to fetch Mum,' Ron murmured to Harry and Hermione and quickly left the room. On an impulse, Harry shook Lupin's bony shoulder until he looked at him again, though his gaze seemed somewhat off.

'Remus...do you hear me? You need to eat, ok? We'll fetch you a soup, anything.' Harry realised he probably shouldn't raise his voice and turned to Hermione for help, who had got on her knees beside the sofa.

'Please, Remus,' she whispered, timidly touching one of Lupin's hands, 'we've heard what happened. We've heard you might have...eaten someone. But that's not the real you. You know that, don't you?' Lupin looked at her as if she were a stranger, it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. In the next moment, Ron returned with Mrs Weasley at his heels.

'Remus!' she exclaimed 'thank goodness you're awake!'. She sat down on the edge of the sofa, feeling Lupin's forehead with an experienced hand. 'That's it, children, please leave and let the poor man have some rest.' Reluctantly, they withdrew from the living room again, hanging around in the kitchen as Mrs Weasley occasionally rushed in to fetch things.

'Maybe we should tell Dumbledore?' Harry asked the other two. 'After all, it's him who sent Lupin on that werewolf mission, he should be able to talk him round.'

'I don't know,' Hermione said thoughtfully, looking rather pale herself, 'he seems really troubled. I suppose spending the last days in a cage hasn't helped him see his human side that much, maybe we shouldn't push him.'

'Yeah, so better wait until he's starved himself to death? It won't take long anymore by the look of him.' Harry said hotly.

'Don't get angry at me!' said Hermione, 'I'm just wondering how we can convince him that he...belongs with us.' She got up to make some tea, and they were still brooding at the kitchen table when Mr Weasley returned home, eager for news. After they had given him the general picture, Mr Weasley's face fell slightly. Mrs Weasley came out of the living room and kissed her husband, but when Harry watched them whispering in the corridor, he could see Mrs Weasley sadly shake her head.

Dinner that day was a gloomy affair. Bill had returned, informing everybody that apparently, he and Hestia Jones hadn't been recognised. 'They're looking for 'two broad shouldered men in dark cloaks with hoods', very precise indeed. I guess the guards exaggerated because they didn't want to look as incapable as they were, but that's only good for us.'

'What about the other werewolves?' Ginny asked.

'They went to trial shortly afterwards,' Bill paused, 'Apparently, it didn't even last Iong, I heard they were taken to Azkaban straight away.'

'It's intolerable!' Hermione sat down her glass with force. 'Every witch or wizard has a right to a fair trial in front of the Wizengamot. It's the law! You can't just send people to Azkaban without a trial, no matter what they've done!'

Harry remembered his own experience in front of the Wizarding High Court at the beginning of his fifth year and could well imagine that laws were bent these days, according to the conceits of those in charge, Dolores Umbridge's in particular.

A knock on the door interrupted Mr Weasley's try at an answer, instead he got up and moved to the door, suddenly tense.

'Who is it?' he asked loudly.

'It is I, Dumbledore, coming to enquire after your latest guest.'

Mr Weasley opened the door and Albus Dumbledore stepped over the threshold. After all their private lessons together, Harry found that he had got much more used to his presence than only half a year before, but at the same time he became painfully aware, once more, that he had no idea how to retrieve that memory from Slughorn.

'Good evening, everyone, do not let me disturb your dinner. If you might just show me where Remus is?' Mrs Weasley led Dumbledore through the kitchen and Harry was quite sure they had contacted him, after all.

They continued dinner, deploring the state of the Ministry of Magic in general and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in particular. Dumbledore reappeared as they were starting to clear the table.

'I daresay Remus might be ready to accept a bowl of soup. And if you were to add 10 drops of this,' Dumbledore handed Mrs Weasley a tiny bottle, 'Madam Pomfrey says he'll be better in no time.'

'I'm relieved to hear that, really' said Mrs Weasley with a sigh. 'Would you like something to eat yourself, Albus? There is still some chicken left.'

'No, dear Molly, I'm afraid I need to return to Hogwarts immediately,' Dumbledore was already on his way to the door, 'Miss Granger, Miss and Mr Weasley, Bill, have a good rest of your evening and sorry for the disturbance. I shall see you soon, Harry?' Harry nodded, feeling slightly guilty because 'soon' clearly depended on his capacity to convince Slughorn. Dumbledore didn't seem to notice.

'Arthur, just a quick word...' Dumbledore motioned for Mr Weasley to go in front of him, and the two men stepped into the dark yard.

'I'll call it a night, I think.' Bill yawned, 'lots of paperwork waiting for me tomorrow morning. But didn't you want to show me your essay, Ginny?' Ginny and Bill set off upstairs, leaving Harry feel slightly disappointed as he had hoped for an evening together with the four of them. Instead, he, Hermione and Ron retreated to Ron's room. Ron and Harry took out Ron's old chessboard for a game of wizarding chess, while Hermione decided to rework her Potions essay from scratch.

When Harry woke up the next morning, the blue light of very early hours faintly traced the room's lines and shapes and Ron was snoring peacefully in his bed a few feet away. Fragments of his dream came back to Harry, in which he had chased Slughorn across a desert of some kind, trying to force Slughorn's memory from him which Slughorn was carrying in a small glass orb resembling the prophecies in the Department of Mysteries. Harry reached for his glasses, not feeling sleepy anymore, but rather thirsty, and decided he'd go for something to drink in the kitchen. As quietly as possible he walked down the stairs, trying to remember which floorboards were prone to squeaking. Once having reached the solid stone floor of the ground level corridor, he suddenly noticed something big and white move to his left. Wheeling around, he realised in the same instant that his wand was lying on the bedside table in the attic room.

'It's me,' a hoarse voice said, and Harry recognised Lupin in what he presumed to be a pair of Mr Weasley's pyjamas. Lupin was supporting himself against the door frame with both hands, looking as if his knees might give way any moment.

'Where are you going?' Harry asked, alarmed.

'To the bathroom, Harry.' Lupin answered, 'Though, if you assisted me, that would greatly increase my chances of actually getting there.' Slightly embarrassed that Lupin had correctly guessed that he, Harry, had suspected him to escape, he slid one of Lupin's arm around his shoulders and slowly accompanied him across the corridor. They neither spoke on the way back as it was evident Lupin had to concentrate on walking. Back in the living room, Harry awkwardly helped Lupin into the bed that had replaced the sofa, he wasn't used to being so close to him, although he wanted to show that he cared.

'How are you feeling?' Harry asked.

Lupin considered him for a moment in the dim light. 'Do you want an honest answer? I'm still not entirely convinced I should be here.'

'Well, I am,' Harry said with emphasis, 'and you'd be a fool to think that it doesn't matter to us...to me...if you were in a cell in Azkaban or here.'

Again, Lupin was silent. 'Thank you for that,' he then said quietly. 'Would you like to sit down for a moment?'

Unsure where this conversation was going, Harry pulled up a nearby chair and sat down next to Lupin's bed.

'If I say I wasn't convinced I should be here, it's not because I don't care...about you...friends in the Order...our cause in general.' Lupin sounded as if talking presented an effort to him.

'I know," Harry replied, 'you're afraid you might hurt someone. But this incident was an exception, I know you'd do everything to not get into a situation in which you could be dangerous to one of us.'

'That's what I would always attempt, yes,' Lupin replied, though he didn't seem to trust his own words. 'But I also have meant to tell you for a while now that I'm sorry if I...wasn't there for you in a way I would have hoped to, under different circumstances, after Sirius died.'

Harry hadn't expected this and didn't know what to reply, staring at the carpet that was slowly starting to assume colours in the grey morning light. It was true that he had hoped Lupin would write, show any sign that he was aware of Harry's loss, which after all was the loss of his own friend, too.

'It's fine,' Harry mumbled, 'you said at Christmas you couldn't write to me without your cover among the werewolves being blown.'

'That's certainly correct,' answered Lupin. 'But I should have made more of an effort. I regret that now. It's something I realised I would have liked you to know when I thought I might not speak to you again."

Harry looked at Lupin's pale face and held his gaze for a moment. Lupin seemed older than ever before.

'It's ok,' Harry said, and added after a moment's hesitation 'How ..how do you deal with it?'

Lupin sighed and tiredly rubbed his eyes with one hand. 'I'm afraid I'm the wrong person to ask when it comes to...such things.' He looked at Harry again. 'Although the fact that the circumstances of his disappearance, his death...make sense to me...makes it somewhat easier this time. I'm grateful to have had him back, even if only for a while. But you two, you should have had more time together.' A small smile appeared on Lupin's face for the first time.

'He was so proud of you, Harry.'

Harry blinked hard against a sudden stinging in his eyes. Although it somehow felt easier talking about Sirius to Lupin than it had been to others, he didn't want to show just how much he still missed having a godfather. Lupin seemed to be studying the ceiling.

'After Sirius had passed away, I collected some of his personal things for you in Grimmauld Place. They're in a carton in the room I occupied there. It's not much...but if you were interested, one day we could go through them together. I just thought you might like some memories,' said Lupin quietly.

All of a sudden, the image of Sirius's old pocket watch and other things Harry remembered around him made hot tears spill down his face. He furiously wiped at his cheeks with his sleeve, but when Lupin hesitantly put out a hand and gave Harry's knee a small squeeze, he felt he didn't mind so much. After a few minutes, Harry began to breathe more calmly.

'I'm sorry, Remus. You need to rest. I better go.'

'Please don't think...never mind. Thank you for helping me.'

The weather in the following days was sunny and clear, simply perfect for Quidditch practice, and Harry, Ron and Ginny spent their afternoons racing each other above the Weasleys' orchard . Harry was keen to practice some moves that he hoped would help them beat Ravenclaw in the final match of the season, and secretly enjoyed how well he and Ginny complemented each other in the most difficult manoeuvres, on the occasion that Hermione agreed to perform the part of the opposing team's defence. Towards the end of the week, Lupin started joining them for meals around the table, though Harry noticed that he didn't touch any meat. Maybe it was because of the fact that Kingsley, having gained access to the court filings, had informed Lupin that he had not been part of the muggle victim's killing, but only joined up with the pack later, or because of the company of Order members visiting him in the twins' bedroom which he now occupied that Lupin appeared decreasingly bitter. A day before their scheduled return to Hogwarts, he sat in the spring sun on a bench outside the kitchen, wrapped tightly in a cloak and scarf, and watched them play.

'That was an excellent parade I just saw!' Lupin complimented Ron when they joined him for a break and pumpkin juice that Mrs Weasley had set out for them.

'Yeah, I really feel I'm getting the hang of the loop, it's about feeling the Quaffle more than about seeing it!' beamed Ron.

'You ever played Quidditch then?' asked Harry, pouring himself a second glass.

'Never on the team, I was absent too much, but we sometimes played with James and Sirius and others and it seemed I was doing quite alright.'

A thought suddenly occurred to Harry at the mention of his dad's school days.

'When you were at Hogwarts, Professor Slughorn was Potions Master, wasn't he?'

'Yes, indeed. And he has resumed his old post as I've heard. How does not having Snape in Potions appeal to you, then?'

'It's quite a change,' Harry grinned a little, 'though, I was wondering if you could help me with something else. I need to...I need to get something from Slughorn which he is refusing to give me.'

'Like...an object?' inquired Lupin attentively. Harry saw with relief that Hermione had engaged Ginny in a conversation a few yards away. He turned to Lupin again.

'Sort of, yes. Dumbledore asked me to get it from him, but Slughorn has to give it freely.'

'Well, from the way I remember him, Professor Slughorn has always taken an interest in promising students and was very open to flattery,' Lupin said slowly, and Harry was thankful that he didn't ask further questions concerning the object of Harry's demand. 'I'd be surprised if he wasn't taking a particular interest in you, Harry.'

'He is,' said Harry truthfully, 'but ever since I've tried to get this...thing from him he's avoided being alone with me.'

'I see. I'm not sure I can help you there, Harry, I've never been part of his little club of favourites. Your mother was, though, and he positively adored her. So my best guess would be to try to approach him as Lily's grieving son. Not that her death isn't something to grieve about, I hope you understand me,' Lupin added, and a shadow seemed to cross his pale face.

They continued playing Quidditch until dusk when Mrs Weasley called them back into the house for an opulent three-course farewell dinner, which left Harry feeling positively tight around the waist. He went up with Ron to pack his things for the following morning when they would return to Hogwarts early, regretting that he hadn't managed to spend more time alone with Ginny during the holidays. But then, he told himself as he was lying down in the dark, massaging his still protesting stomach, with everything that was going on he was probably better off not trying to cause any further trouble.