Through Another's Eyes
By Neurotica
Eleven
Remus stopped outside the front door of Sirius' flat, trying to calm himself so he didn't curse his friend on sight or turn tail and runaway so he didn't have to face this right now. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, Remus raised his hand and knocked on the door. It was a minute or so before he heard any sounds of life from within—there was a crash, a muttered curse, and heavy footsteps before the door opened up. Sirius, it seemed, had been asleep; his hair was messed up, he was shirtless, and he was still grumbling, holding his foot from where he'd apparently stubbed it against something.
"What?" he grunted in irritation, finally letting go of his foot and looking up. His jaw dropped open a little, his eyes widened, and his face paled. "Moony..."
"Hey, Sirius," Remus muttered. "Got a minute?"
Sirius nodded, now wide awake. "Yeah, of course, come on in..."
Remus stepped inside the flat and closed the door behind him, having a look around. Sirius wasn't exactly the tidiest person in the world at the best of times, but being forced to remain in his home for extended periods only seemed to have escalated his untidiness. Clothes and magazines and old Daily Prophets were strewn all over the floor; there was a stack of pizza boxes at the end of the sofa he seemed to be using as a table for empty beer bottles; and there was a strange smell coming from the kitchen. "See you've made good use of your time at home," Remus said dryly.
Sirius snorted loudly from the kitchen where Remus assumed he was grabbing drinks for them. "You know me, mate, still waiting for Heidi Housewitch to come look after me," he joked. "Anyway, this place gets too dirty, I'll just move."
Remus only rolled his eyes, pushed a pile of jeans off the cleaner end of the sofa and sat down, waiting for Sirius to hand him a butterbeer and join him. The two wizards sat in a rather awkward silence, sipping their bottles for a few minutes before Sirius finally sat his down and turned towards Remus. "Didn't expect to see you here," he said bluntly. "Actually, you're the last person I expected to come by."
"Me too," Remus admitted. "But I thought you could use some company."
The other wizard nodded slowly. "Well, I appreciate the concern, but something tells me you've got a little more on your mind than my loneliness."
"You're right." Remus set down his own butterbeer and double-checked his wand wasn't easily accessible during this conversation, just in case this discussion turned sour.
"Ask away, then, mate," Sirius said resignedly. "Not like you're the first one."
Sighing deeply, Remus met his friend's eyes. "Did you?" he asked quietly. He knew Sirius wouldn't need him to expand on his question.
Sirius sighed equally deeply, glanced around his living room for a moment, then looked back. "I'm not going to insult your intelligence the way I have my fellow Aurors," he began in a low voice. "But honestly, Remus, I really do not know. I remember going to a... meeting after leaving the pub, I remember bits of that meeting, then nothing until you and James found me."
Remus' brow furrowed. "What meeting?" he asked slowly.
"The night we found out about Helen... When you and I were at the pub again, I had that... er... episode or whatever it was, then one where I couldn't breathe and you were freaking out—"
Remus rolled his hand impatiently. "I remember."
"Right, well, after that, before we got Kingsley's patronus, I told you I remembered getting a letter, but that I didn't remember what was in it." Sirius took a deep breath. "I remember now what was in it. It was a message requesting a meeting with a contact James and I made years ago. A Death Eater who came to us wanting to pass along information to help the Order."
Remus sighed again. "You and James told us years ago you'd stopped meeting with her, because you didn't trust her," he reminded his friend.
"No, we told you that so you'd tell Lily and she'd get off James' case about it," Sirius amended.
"So you lied to me," Remus said dryly. "What else is new?"
"It was a necessary lie, Remus. People were starting to get wind that we had a contact in the Death Eater circle and it was becoming too dangerous for all of us. So we told you lot she'd changed her mind about being a spy and kept all information we got from her between us and Dumbledore, who shared with the rest of the Order when he deemed it necessary," Sirius told him.
"So what did she tell you?"
Sirius shrugged apologetically. "I'm still a little fuzzy on some of the details, but that might have something to do with the hex one of her mates hit me with halfway through our conversation. And I know what you're going to say," he said hastily as Remus opened his mouth. "But I really don't think it had much to do with her. Yes, she led me there, she wouldn't let me leave, but..." He shrugged again.
"It would have blown her cover if she'd done anything to help you," Remus said resignedly. Sirius nodded. "Do you remember what you talked about?"
Sirius' brow furrowed deeply as he thought. "We did the usual identifying routine we do every time, walked into the meeting place. I checked it for anyone hiding in there—it was just the two of us, which means the others showed up right before I was hexed. She told me there had been an attack that night and there was about to be another. When I pressed her for details, that was when I realized something was wrong."
"What time was this?" Remus asked slowly.
Sirius shook his head. "It was late," he said. "One in the morning, maybe... I really don't remember."
Remus' heartbeat increased. "One in the morning?" he checked. Sirius shrugged uncertainly. "Sirius, if your meeting was at one in the morning, there was no way you could have been present at Helen's. Evidence shows she was killed between ten and midnight." While this information sank into Sirius' liquor-soaked brain, Remus shot up from the sofa and paced the length of the living room, running shaking hands through his hair. Harry had been right; somehow, for some unknown reason, Sirius had been framed. Remus wasn't quite yet ready to tell Sirius he believed him aloud, at least not until his mind stopped reeling long enough to wrap itself around this new information.
He turned back to face Sirius, finding his friend looking back, suddenly sober. "How do we prove it?" he asked quietly.
Shaking his head, Remus sat back down heavily. "I don't know," he admitted hoarsely. "James isn't listening to reason right now; he's barely speaking to anybody. And you know how he gets when he's like this: words won't mean a damn thing to him."
"Maybe Lily?" suggested Sirius.
Remus shrugged half-heartedly. "I don't know whether she can even get through to him right now. Hell, I don't know if she'll believe a word of this if I tell her."
Sirius shook his head. "Lily will at least hear you through," he said. "She always listens to you, Remus, more than any of the rest of us, even James. It's always been like that and you know it."
"Even so," Remus went on. "Even if she does believe me, that doesn't do much in convincing everyone else. And just so we're clear, I'm not even say I'm convinced just yet. We're going on the word of a man who's been claiming since the beginning he has no recollection of what may or may not have happened during a twelve hour time period."
Whatever hope had been spreading throughout Sirius as he and Remus discussed the remote possibility of his innocence had disappeared. He nodded slightly, avoiding the werewolf's eyes. "Remus," he said quietly, "I never would have hurt Helen or Piper. What do I need to do to prove it to you?"
Remus swallowed, averting his own eyes. "I don't know," he replied. "But I should go. James asked me to help him replace and upgrade the wards around the house. I'll talk to them when I have a moment."
"Sure," Sirius said quietly, standing to follow Remus to the door of his flat. "Take care, mate."
"You too," Remus responded, giving him a small smile. "I'll see about replenishing your supplies as well. One can't live on firewhiskey and pizza alone, right?"
Sirius smirked. "We used to do it when we were kids."
The smile on Remus' face felt more genuine. "True, but the years seem to have made that more difficult. At least for me." He stepped out into the hallway. "I'll be in touch."
He turned to leave, knowing Sirius was watching his every move, and wondered how exactly he was going to present this new evidence to James given the wizard's recent temperament. He further wondered if he'd be able to hold his own during the argument that would undoubtedly ensue if Remus didn't fully believe his end of the argument. As he left the building, his mind focusing on this new problem, he had no idea his every move was being watched by somebody who was not Sirius Black.
Harry was exhausted. It had been three days since he'd cornered Remus Lupin in Hogsmeade, practically begging him to go speak with Sirius, and he'd not had a restful moment since. When he wasn't fretting over the fate of his godfather or of the world from which he'd come, he was focusing on his studies, something he'd never really done before, but he found keeping his mind occupied with Arithmancy or Charms helped him forget his troubles for a little while. At night, while his dorm mates slept, he lay in his four-poster, the curtains drawn around his bed, and stared at the canopy as he wondered what was going on back home.
More often than not, he found himself having silent discussions with the voice in his mind that so resembled the Harry from this world. He still wasn't certain whether he was actually conversing with this world's Harry or if it was just a side effect of having shared the other boy's mind for the few months he had. And the last thing he wanted to do was bring the subject up to the adults in his life, whether it be his parents, Remus, or Dumbledore. The only other possibility he could come up with for hearing and speaking to the other Harry was that he was going mental, and the last thing he wanted to deal with was being locked up in whatever the wizarding equivalent to a Muggle insane asylum might have been.
Mental or not, there was a measure of comfort in the silent discussions. At least then there was one person who understand what was going on in his mind and gave him advice without eyeing him warily. They could run through what was happening in Harry's home world, coming up with explanations that, most likely, were frightfully off the mark. There had, however, been one question answered: how was Harry seeing what was happening in the other place?
I don't know how to explain it, the other Harry told him one night. After what happened on the platform, when our minds separated and I... well, died, I sort of went off somewhere.
Where? asked Harry, curling up on his side in his bed.
Dunno. It was a whole lot of nothing, really. There wasn't anything to see, no people, no anything. Then one day I woke up again and I was... well, not home, but somewhere similar. I reckon I know how you felt when you landed here. I recognized a lot of the people, but they weren't my people, does that make sense?
Harry nodded in the dark. Yes. People looked different, even though you couldn't quite put your finger on how. They acted different. They'd lived different lives than the ones you knew them to have led.
Exactly.
Could you talk to them? Harry asked suddenly. He knew it was a long shot—there wasn't a body for Harry Potter in the other world, so it couldn't have been possible that things worked there like they did here.
No, the other Harry said apologetically. I can see what the others are doing, I can listen to them talk, but I can't interact with them. It's kind of like a pensieve, but I know it's happening in real time rather than being a memory.
Can you control it?
Haven't tried yet. If it works, at least it'll give us a way to monitor what's happening.
Harry sighed. He'd felt better knowing the things he'd been dreaming hadn't been visions from Voldemort, at least for the most part. And he was grateful for the chance to see the people he loved from the other world were alive and mostly well. But he still wished there was a way he could tell them not to worry about him, that he was safe. He still wished there was a way to save them from whatever was happening to their world.
Any thoughts on how to stop... whatever is going on? Harry had asked one night.
I wouldn't even know where to begin, the other Harry responded heavily. If Remus is right and this world is merging with yours, I think it's safe to say we're all screwed.
Harry raised a mental eyebrow. Way to stay optimistic, he shot sarcastically. If the worlds are merging, how would that work, do you think? Would it be like me coming through, merging with you, or would the world just... disappear?
That's a good question. From what I was seeing, though, like with the Ministry of Magic, things were just disappearing. I don't know if that applies to people or just places. The places don't really matter much, I suppose, but the people... Two Voldemorts in one mind. And he's not exactly the kind sort of fellow you are; one Voldemort is terrifying as is, but two...
Both Harries went silent at this thought, shuddering simultaneously. What about the people who exist here, but not in the other world? Mum and Dad have been dead for fourteen years there. Caleb and Piper never existed in the first place.
The other Harry seemed to shrug. I imagine they'll stay the way they are. If it was the other way around, if I'd fallen into your world and this one was merging into that one, there'd probably be more reason to worry. They wouldn't have anywhere to merge, so they'd probably fall into non-existence themselves.
And if the two worlds merge, I suppose that solves the question on whether or not I'll ever go back there.
The other Harry remained silent for a moment. Harry imagined he wore a thoughtful expression on his face. Would you want to go back? I mean, given everything, wouldn't you prefer living here? You've got parents and siblings, and no one really knows you here. Even after what happened on the platform, you don't get as much attention as you did there.
Harry didn't have a response for this. The question had been on his mind since his first day in this world. Yes, it was nicer living here; he did have parents, people who loved him and would go to the edge of the world for him. And the first few days, even weeks, had been great. It wasn't until he'd started discovering the little details of this world that he started questioning which one he really preferred. A dozen clichéd sayings popped into his mind—the grass is greener on the other side; be careful what you wish for; things aren't always as they seem—and he couldn't help thinking how true all of them were.
He still hadn't come up with an answer when Ron walked into the dormitory and stopped in his tracks when he spotted Harry sitting on his bed working on a Transfiguration essay. The two boys eyed one another warily and Harry realized they hadn't been alone in the same room since the morning Caleb had rushed into tell Harry about Sirius' arrest.
"You weren't at dinner," Ron commented, breaking the eye contact and heading to his trunk, digging through his clothes for something.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Didn't know you cared," he muttered, turning a page in his textbook.
"I don't," Ron replied flatly. "Hermione does, though, and she was wondering why you've been so standoffish lately."
"Oh," Harry said. "I'll talk to her tomorrow, then."
"You do that," Ron muttered.
When Harry didn't respond again, Ron started to leave the dorm. As he reached the door, however, he stopped and turned, eyeing Harry appraisingly before nodding decisively about something and closing the door with a loud snap. "What the hell is with you?" he asked irritably.
Harry sat up straighter on his bed. "What d'you mean?" he asked cautiously.
Ron rolled his eyes impatiently, crossing the room to better glare at Harry—or so Harry presumed. "For the last four years, you've made it your life's mission to make our lives as miserable as humanly possible." Harry assumed "our lives" included those of Hermione, Neville, and Ginny. And possibly Caleb. "You haven't said a kind word to any of us since we met and you've gone out of your way to humiliate us at every turn. Now all of a sudden you're repentant—and don't try that change of heart BS you've spouted to Hermione!" Harry vaguely wondered whether Ron could have possibly put more sarcasm or scathing in the phrase "change of heart." "I want to know what the hell you think you're playing at."
Harry stared evenly at Ron, ignoring his inner grumblings about how Ron shouldn't look a gift hippogriff in the mouth. "Trust me," he said finally, standing up with the intention of leaving the room, "you don't want to know. Now if you'll kindly step aside—"
He stopped abruptly as Ron's wand rose and came to rest right between his eyes. "No," Ron said firmly. "I won't step aside. And you left your wand on the bed, so you can stop reaching for it."
Harry glanced over his shoulder, indeed finding his wand resting uselessly on the mattress, right next to his essay. He slumped slightly in defeat. "What do you want?" he asked tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"An explanation."
Harry shook his head. "You wouldn't believe me anyway," he said.
"Try me. You might find I'm very open-minded." Ron adjusted the grip on his wand, indicating he was willing to remain where he was for the long run.
Persistent little ginger, isn't he? snickered Harry's mind, a tinge of admiration in his tone. Harry ignored it. "Fine," he said resignedly. "But remember, you asked for it. Can we at least sit down? It's a bit of a long story."
Looking highly suspicious, Ron nodded. Harry sat back down on his bed while Ron took Seamus'. Taking a deep breath, Harry thought back to when he'd told Remus the truth and wondered if he could take that same approach. Not like you have much to lose, said his inner commentator. "Right," Harry said as much to himself as to Ron. "I'm not from here. Where I'm from, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger are my best friends in the world and have been since we were first years. Also in first year, I was the youngest Seeker Hogwarts had seen in a century. Last year, I pulled you out of the depths of the black lake where mermaids were guarding you. You're absolutely terrified of spiders, but when we were twelve, you and I had to go into the Forbidden Forest on Hagrid's request to speak with an acromantula called Aragog whose sons and daughters were going to eat us because we weren't Hagrid. We were saved by your father's flying Ford Anglia, which we'd used to get to school in the first place, because Draco Malfoy's family house-elf Dobby sealed the gateway to Platform 9 ¾, then we crash landed in the Whomping Willow, showed up just in time to save our hides. Later that same year, I saved your sister's life from the Chamber of Secrets. Your family lives in a house in the country called the Burrow and your bedroom is decorated with Chudley Cannons stuff. You've got five older brothers—Fred, George, Percy, Charlie, and Bill. Your dad words in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office at the Ministry. Your mum is the best cook I've ever met, second to my mum. Charlie works with dragons; Bill is a curse breaker in Egypt."
Harry paused to take a deep breath and to take in Ron's expression. The other boy was staring at him, his jaw hanging open slightly. Ron remained speechless for a minute or two, but finally managed to regain his voice. "How do you know about the car?" he demanded.
Fighting not to laugh, Harry mused how very like Ron it was that he focused not on the fact that Harry had just admitted he was from another world or that he knew things about his family most people weren't aware of, but that Harry knew about Ron's father's charmed car. "I told you," he responded calmly. "Where I'm from, you and I are best friends."
Ron was nodding slowly. "Right," he said slowly and skeptically. "And, erm, if you're not from here, how did you get here?"
Harry thought about the answer to the question. He could give Ron the same explanation he'd given the other people he'd told about his arrival in this world. There was still the question as to why he was here. If Voldemort had, for whatever reasons, done this to him, why had he done it? It couldn't be because he thought Harry needed a break from his real life, living with relatives who didn't care whether he lived or died. It couldn't be because he wanted to show Harry what his life could have been like.
He was unable to explore the query much further; Ron was looking at him expectantly. "I, er, sort of fell through a gateway of some sort. Kind of like Platform 9 ¾, only instead of taking me from the Muggle world to the wizarding one, it took me from my reality to an alternate one."
The red head still looked skeptical. "Uh huh," he responded as he stood, edging away from Harry as cautiously as possible. "Well, either you're a pranking genius or you're mental. I'm banking on the latter. You need help, mate."
Harry nodded in agreement to Ron's assessment, even though Ron had turned his back on him and was heading towards the door. "Ron," he called before Ron left. The boy turned around, his eyebrows raised. "Look, whether you believe me or not, I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention this to anyone. Please?"
Ron stared at him for a few moments before nodding ever so slightly and leaving the room.
Flopping back on his bed, Harry closed his eyes, suddenly feeling exhausted. "That went well," he muttered to himself.
His mind only snickered in response.
Lily sat at her kitchen table, Remus and James on either side of her, waiting to hear why Remus had come by so early. It looked as though he hadn't slept in a week, which was typically how he looked in the days leading up to the full moon, but as the full moon was still two weeks ago, there were other factors at work. Helen's death was weighing heavily on his mind, obviously, and that could have been partly what made him look grey and exhausted, but knowing him as she did, Lily knew there was something else going on.
Finally, Remus sighed heavily, took a fortifying gulp of his tea, and looked up to meet James' and Lily's gazes. "Last night, I went to speak with Sirius," he said quietly.
James sat straighter in his chair, his eyes narrowing. "Why?" he asked sharply.
"Because I wanted answers," Remus told him plainly. "Because, while I know you and your Aurors do your jobs very well and you wouldn't arrest somebody without cause, I believe things aren't as they seem."
"And what makes you think that?" James asked, his tone slightly patronizing.
Remus, having much experience with James' moods, met the Auror's eyes levelly. "Partly because four months ago, you never would have believed Sirius could be part of something like this. And yes, I realize it's been a rough few months for your family, James, but I know you, I've known you since we were eleven, and I know Sirius is your best friend, no matter what you say. It's always been that way and I learned to accept it years ago. The pair of you would do anything for each other and you trust each other more than you trust anybody else. You've trusted him with everything—Secret-Keeper for your family when you had to go into hiding; missions for work and the Order that could have meant life and death for either or both of you; you've told Sirius things you haven't even told me or Lily."
"Don't deny it, James," Lily chimed in, rolling her eyes as James started to argue. "We all know it's true."
"What's your point, Remus?" James asked quietly, hardly looking at either of them.
"My point is that before the last few months you never would have suspected Sirius of doing anything like this. And I understand why you suspect him now, but James, you're not seeing everything," Remus told him imploringly.
James barely blinked in response. "What else is there to see, Remus?" he asked, his tone rather hollow. "His wand was there, at Helen's, it cast the Killing Curse that killed her." Lily watched Remus wince at James' words, but she remained silent for the moment. "Why would his wand be there if he wasn't?"
"Oh yeah," Lily said dryly, "because it's not even the slightest bit conceivable that he could have been knocked out and had his wand stolen, James. It wouldn't be the first time, either." She turned to look at Remus. "What makes you think all this, Remus?"
Remus sighed, visibly hesitating as he carefully chose his next words. He knew, as well as Lily did, that there would only be one chance to convince James to believe him, and one wrong argument would ruin his chances. "Sirius insists he has no recollection of what happened that night," he stated quietly. "There could be any number of explanations for that—the Imperius Curse, memory charms... What we do know is that Sirius was being held hostage in that building with Piper. Why couldn't it be possible that Death Eaters took his wand once he was there and framed him?"
"Why would they do that?" James asked tiredly. "What could be gained by framing him?"
"I don't know," Remus began, his tone bordering on impatience. He knew James was humoring him and Lily gave it a few more minutes before the conversation turned into a full blown row. "Maybe to turn us against him. It sure as hell wouldn't be the first time they've tried it; you lot turned your backs on me with a few placed words in your ears and it took nearly a year for me to finally convince you I hadn't joined Voldemort."
Lily's eyes bent guiltily. Though she hadn't believed Remus would have betrayed them, she'd had her own moments of doubt during that time. She also recalled how losing trust in Remus, however brief it had been, had put a crack in what was once an unbreakable friendship between the Marauders. Apparently one crack had the potential to break the rest of them. She wasn't sure their friendship had ever fully recovered, especially after what had happened to Peter.
"That's not fair," James said hoarsely, pointing at Remus. "You know it was more than a few well placed words, Remus. They had us convinced all your little disappearances before and after full moons meant Voldemort might have gotten his hooks in you."
Remus only shrugged. "Fair or not, this is the same situation, though I will be the first to admit this is rather more pointed and extreme than what happened with me. If they could turn you, Sirius, and Peter against me, why couldn't they turn us against Sirius?"
The expression on James' face that suggested he might be coming around to Remus' line of thinking was fleeting before he went back to being as stubborn as ever. "Fine," he conceded. "Let's say this is the same situation. Why would they go to the trouble of kidnapping my daughter and killing Helen?"
Remus closed his eyes as though praying for more patience. "For that exact reason," he said through clenched teeth. "If you're convinced Sirius kidnapped Piper and I'm convinced he killed Helen, there's not much chance we're going to trust him unquestionably. Not to mention this all started when you thought Sirius allowed Lucius Malfoy free reign aboard the Hogwarts Express while Harry was being attacked. This is exactly the kind of thing they go for!"
"Seems a bit elaborate, even for them," James said stubbornly, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair.
Lily could see the muscles of Remus' jaw tense as he fought back frustration.
"How could anything be more elaborate than kidnapping a five-year-old boy, force feeding him an experimental potion, wiping his memory, then, ten years later, making certain a gateway to an alternate universe opened for the exact purpose of making that boy's counterpart fall through into our world?" Remus shot back. "Nothing is too elaborate for Voldemort. Haven't you figured that out by now?"
James rolled his eyes. "And just where exactly is all this coming from, Remus?" he asked after a few moments of silence. "Less than a week ago, you believed Sirius was just as guilty as I do. Why the sudden change of heart?"
Lily sat up a little straighter as Remus thought about his answer.
"Harry," he said quietly. Both Potters raised their eyebrows in question. "He asked me for a word last night about Sirius, telling me he believed things weren't as they seemed. Where he's from, hisSirius went through almost the same thing. The difference being the crimes he was accused of were the deaths of twelve Muggles, that world's Peter Pettigrew, and handing over the location of you, your wife, and your son to Lord Voldemort." Lily and James glanced at one another briefly. "It took twelve years for the truth to come out and by then, that Sirius was barely anything more than a shell of what he'd once been. If Sirius is truly innocent, I don't want to see that happen here. We've got enough to face with this war without thinking the worst of our friends."
He's got a good point, Lily thought, glancing between Remus and James, trying to gage her husband's thoughts on the subject. It seemed, however, James wouldn't be so easily swayed this time. "Harry," he said dully, shaking his head a little. "You're putting a little too much trust in him, don't you think? A boy from another world who claims he has visions both from Lord effing Voldemort and from the world he came from. How do we know he's telling the truth? How do we know all of these visions aren't from Voldemort? He could be setting all of us up!"
Remus sighed, rubbing his temples as Lily spoke up again. "Oh for the love of..." She glared at her husband. "I thought we were past this, James?"
"This is mental," James said, standing suddenly, glaring at Remus. Lily had the feeling James hadn't even heard her. "It's nice that you believe Sirius is innocent. And you're right, I want to believe it too. But there's too much against him, and I'm not putting my faith into a fifteen-year-old boy who sees hallucinations, whether he's my son or not."
Without another word, James turned and left the room. A few moments later, the front door slammed shut, leaving Lily and Remus alone in the kitchen. "Such a bloody child," Lily muttered, looking over at Remus. The wizard was still glaring at the chair where James had been sitting. She sighed and reached out a hand to touch his arm, startling him from his thoughts. "Do you honestly believe Sirius is innocent?" Her tone was barely above a whisper.
He sighed heavily and met her eyes. "Yes," he responded. "I think I do. Lily, I talked to him, I saw the look in his eyes when he was telling me what happened. That wasn't the expression of a lying man."
With her own heavy sigh, Lily nodded. "Okay," she said, patting Remus' arm. "James might not come around for a while, but until then, you've got my support."
Relief on Remus' face was palpable and he smiled slightly. "Thank you," he said.
She winked at him. "Now, if we're going to prove a man's innocence, we're going to need a good breakfast. Get the eggs and I'll start the toast."
As they started their meal, Lily knew whatever happened in the next few weeks would either convince James of the truth or destroy everything they'd built over the last twenty years. She had to be prepared for either scenario, especially if she was about to openly take sides against her husband.
He'll come around, she tried to convince herself. No matter how firmly she kept the thought in her mind, she couldn't quite shake the feeling that she might be wrong.
AN: I know, you're all in shock that I've updated before the six month mark. Recover from your heart attacks, I'll wait... Okay, so we finally have Harry telling someone who's not family the truth. Whether Ron will believe it or not... well, that's a topic for another chapter. There's also a bit more insight into how Harry is seeing into his old world and the mysterious mind voice. Is it the other Harry back from wherever he went or just a bit of leftover side effect from the original merging? You'll just have to wait and see. Now if you'll be so kind, please review!