A few weeks later, Harry did not even look up properly when Ray presented the new postdoc, being with his thoughts somewhere deep inside the code. He only registered the threadbare coat and the lanky figure underneath before he turned his attention again to the screen. Thomas woke him from his dreamland of letters and numbers at lunch time, knocking at the open door to ask if they wanted to join them as usual. Ron on the other side of the huge desk yawned and stretched and followed Thomas out of the room while Harry finished the line of code he had been working on before grabbing his crutches and coat and getting up, too.

The weather had turned to the better which meant a little sun during the day and higher temperatures. To Harry's dismay it also meant that the snow had started to melt and formed a muddy and slippery environment to walk in. Several times he had tried to convince his colleagues to go ahead and leave him alone on the way to the dining hall because he could not stand to slow everyone down even more than usual. But no one had listened to him. So Harry found himself again in the middle of the small group heading towards the dining hall, his eyes fixed on the ground, willing his legs to move and hoping his feet would not slip. He had noticed that Thomas and Martin took turns walking close to his side to watch out for him. He felt angry and grateful at the same time for that and never mentioned it.

In the line at the buffet Harry followed Martin, as it had grown into a habit. Martin carried a tray for them both and put on it whatever Harry ordered. They paid separately and when Harry looked up after he had sorted the change in his wallet and wrenched it inside his pocket with one hand, he noticed someone staring at him from behind the other counter. He recognized the new post-doc but did not remember his name. The man was standing frozen to the spot, looking as if he had forgotten where he was or what he was about to do. Harry ignored him and picked up the handle of his forearm crutch to follow Martin, sensing the pair of eyes in his back as he made his careful way through the crowded hall.

During lunch, which they spent all together at a table in the dining hall, Harry studied the man out of the corners of his eyes while he picked at his overcooked pasta. He seemed a little younger than Ray, although his light brown hair was already flecked with gray. He had ceased staring at Harry and ate with his head down, not joining in the conversation until Martin addressed him directly.

"Remus, we are all interested in knowing what you will be working on at the institute."

The man, Remus, looked up and his golden brown eyes grazed Harry quickly before fixing on Martin. He cleared his throat and answered: "My field of expertise is root water uptake. But I am also interested in medical applications. Coupling of different dimensions… I know some of you are working on projects in this area."

Martin nodded. "Thomas is doing blood vessels and the surrounding tissue. And I think Harry will be working on bone cement injections, am I right?"

The man had slightly flinched when Harry's name had been mentioned but Harry pretended he had not noticed. "Currently I'm working on a large scale application with Ron. But yes, probably in the future."

Remus nodded and turned back to his plate. The conversation changed to other topics and he did not speak again. Harry put his empty plate on Martin's tray when he had finished before getting up. Together the group left the dining hall to go back to work.

Harry did not see Remus often during the next week. The new postdoc was absent at coffee breaks and lunch. Then, when everybody left the coffee kitchen one afternoon and Harry was just pushing himself up, too, he saw Remus walking into the room. The other stopped short as soon as he perceived him but then resumed his walk and passed him on the way to the coffee machine. Harry frowned and was in the process of leaving when he heard Remus' hoarse voice. "Harry."

Harry turned slightly, facing his new colleague. Close up Remus looked ill, the papery skin was stretched tight over his cheekbones and he had dark shadows under his sunken eyes. Suddenly he looked very old.

Remus cleared his throat. "I'd like to have a word with you, if you have time."

Harry nodded, trying to hide his surprise. "Yes, of course. I have a meeting with an undergrad right now, but afterwards I'm free."

"I had hoped we could meet somewhere more private," Remus said. His eyes were full of pain and his voice was low and sounded tired. "It's a long story. I would invite you to my home but it's really cramped. There is a small pub near the train station where I live. Maybe I can invite you there for something to drink today after work?"

Harry nodded, curiosity getting the better of him. "What train station?"

Remus told him. "It has a lift," he added, surprising Harry with his thoughtfulness.

Later that day Harry exited at the named station alone. Ron and Harry had worked longer on a problem and Remus had already gone when Harry had noticed the time. It was a shabby part of town where he had not set foot very often before. Harry walked along a few rundown houses, cars rushing past him on the broad road as if no one thought of stopping here. He would have missed the entrance of the pub if Remus had not explained it clearly. He looked twice at the unlit sign showing a hog's head before leaning against the heavy door to enter. Inside he had to wait to give his eyes time to adjust to the dimness before he could make out anything. The pub was small with a bar on the left from the entrance and a few tables to the right. The barman barely looked up when Harry entered before returning to polishing glasses with a dirty towel behind the counter. No one else took notice of him although the bar was not crowded at all, everyone seemed to keep to themselves and the conversations at the tables were hushed. Harry spotted Remus, sitting at one of the tables at the far back, at once.

Remus waited until Harry had let himself down on one of the wooden chairs and leaned the crutches against the close wall. "I ordered green tea for you," he said.

Harry broke a smile at him, surprised that Remus knew his favorites. They waited in silence until the barman brought their drinks. Remus had ordered a coffee.

"Do you enjoy your work at the institute, Harry?" Remus asked.

Harry blew at his hot tea. "Yeah, guess I like it." He took a small sip, wondering if Remus had asked him out here to interview him about work.

"That's good to hear," Remus smiled, but again it looked sad. "Harry... I... need to tell you something." Remus shifted in his chair and Harry inwardly braced himself for what was to come. His colleague looked up into his eyes. "I should have talked to you earlier… but it came to me as a shock, too, I wasn't prepared…"

Harry blinked. Nothing Remus said made any sense to him.

Remus took a deep breath. "Do you remember your parents?"

Harry tensed up and put down his tea cup. "No," he said, observing Remus with an irritated frown. He had only told his closest friends about his parents. Surely, more people at the institute knew, information like this leaked through eventually. He was not actually hiding it - he just did not like to talk about it. But he did not expect a new colleague to know about it after just one week. Had Ray told him? He could not fully dismiss the possibility.

"Do you know you look exactly like your father? Only your eyes… are Lily's eyes."

Harry pressed his trembling hands against each other in his lap. "What… How…" Somehow the questions came too fast to him to put them into words.

Remus's sad eyes were looking at a point in the distance. "I was friends with your father at university. We met the very first day and took to each other instantly. Later I met Lily…" He stopped as if unable to continue speaking but then he did. "We were inseparable. They were the best friends I've ever had. Lily and James' death ripped me apart. I… will never forget the day. And you were just so young! Oh Harry… I'm so sorry."

Harry's frown deepened. Something stirred inside him. "Why didn't you talk to me earlier?"

"I didn't know you were working at the institute when I accepted the job offer. I wasn't prepared to meet you… I wasn't prepared to see James and look into Lily's eyes again…" Remus voice trailed away, his head hang down.

Harry's chair screeched over the floor as he pushed away from the table, away from the man who suddenly repelled him. "You understood me wrong. I want to know why you never, ever, tried to contact me in more than 25 years!" he hissed. Harry was shocked at how cold his voice sounded. Anger built up inside of him, old anger that he thought he had buried long ago.

Remus' head flew up, his eyes shining with tears. "I... I tried!"

"Yeah? Obviously you didn't try hard enough because I never heard anything about you."

Remus looked taken aback at Harry's outbreak. "Harry, I wasn't in a good condition after their death. But I swear, later I-"

"I don't care about your excuses. You know what? When I tried to get away from my foster family because they kept me in a fucking cupboard under the stairs like an animal, there was no one there for me. The countless times I went to bed with an empty stomach or bruises all over because my foster brother had beaten me up again, there was no one there for me. I quit believing there was anyone out there who cared for me long ago, so just shut it, I won't believe you anyway!"

Somehow Harry found himself upright, swaying on his feet. He stared down on Remus for some seconds, blood pounding in his ears. His colleague was sunken to a heap of misery, looking up at him with pleading eyes. Harry's stomach felt sour. He took a lurching step towards the wall, bracing himself with a hand against it until he had his crutches under him. He threw a bank note on the table in front of Remus to pay for the tea and left the bar as fast as he could, ignoring the stares.

The rage storming in Harry had not been calmed down by shouting at Remus. Harry entered the next underground that came into the station and drove until it reached the terminal, then, randomly, changed to another train. His breathing did not slow down even after he had sat for a while and sweat formed on his forehead. He could not explain his reaction himself. Somehow Remus had returned to him like a ghost from the past and triggered something in him, something forgotten. Forbidden, long hidden scenes from his life back at his foster family appeared in his mind and he nearly threw up, a drunk across from him patting him on the back as he dry heaved. He drove aimlessly around the city, hot skin against the cold window, watching the outside slipping past in a blur, until the trains were mostly empty. Slowly, the white, hot anger inside him died away, leaving only a throbbing headache and an empty feeling in his stomach. Somehow he dragged his exhausted body home. When he finally fell into his bed late that night and passed out within seconds, something felt off.

When he woke up the next morning, he was blind in one eye.