The Secrets Kept

Chapter 14

Harry slipped into Remus room as quietly as he could, not realizing there was already someone in the room talking to him. He stayed in the shadows, knowing he should probably make his presence known but staying quiet and eavesdropping anyway.

"You should stop getting so worked up," Remus said, his voice choked as he tried to speak. He sounded as if it was painful for him to talk, a great strain on his body to move his lips and force the noise from the depths of his throat.

He heard a woman sigh and Harry imagined that she'd be giving him a light casual smile, "How could I stop getting worked up?" Professor McGonagall said kindly, "my only nephew a werewolf and now attacked by this new," she paused, "creature."

NEPHEW? Harry thought, he couldn't believe that the two were related. Well, he could now that he thought about it, but that didn't explain the fact that it had been a secret. It seemed so strange to keep such a thing secret, such an irrelevant thing secret to the world, but he felt bad for sneaking in and stealing their secret that they'd worked so hard to keep for so long.

"Yes," Remus laughed in his raspy voice, "right Auntie M," he sounded as if he was just teasing her and Harry was sure 'Auntie M' wasn't a common nickname for the woman. It was so familial, carrying a certain sweetness to it that Harry had so often noticed between the Weasleys and the Grangers, something he'd never had himself but could appreciate nonetheless.

Harry wondered if the Professor had given him her normal disapproving scowl or just rolled her eyes at him, but she started to speak and that thought left his mind. "I must get going, but one last think, Remus," she said in a comforting yet stern way, a tone Harry had never heard before, "you've seen how these things can you surprise you, I hope that you'll take my advice and talk to Nymphadora."

"I've nothing to talk to TONKS about," he replied.

The professor let a small laugh escape her lips that though full of happiness was also filled with a tiny amount of sorrow, "I think you could take a book out of Potters', both James and Harry, and admit to yourself, and her, that you have feelings for her, strong feelings."

"Minerva, I think I'm fully away of how I feel," Remus replied as he moved, the sound of the blankets on his bed reverberating through the darkened room, "also Tonks is almost ten years younger than me, I think that our age is a rather big problem."

The professor laughed again, the laugh still full of mirth yet muffled by sorrow, "That never stopped Sirius from dating that witch from the ministry twenty years older than him."

It was Remus' turn to laugh now, the normal chuckle that was always so calm and soothing cracked, "I think we both know exactly why Sirius was dating her and it had nothing to do with his heart or his head, but something much, much lower I'm afraid."

"Well," the professor said with a sighed laugh, "either way, I think it's high time you told young Nymphadora that you're in love with her." She started for the door then, her voice having dropped of comfortably and her foot steps echoing through the dark room.

"I don't love Tonks," Remus called to her as Harry moved out of the Professors way so she couldn't see him as she left the room, an odd yet happy smirk on her face.

Harry stayed back in the shadows, hating that he'd even slipped into them in the first place. He'd overheard something not meant for his ears, learned two things that he shouldn't have known and wasn't quite sure which one was more of a shock.

Remus in love was a hard concept to understand and with Tonks no less. Maybe it was just a joke between the two, something they'd developed for a reason Harry knew not. There was, however, the way Remus replied to it, the way he said her name like Ron always said Hermione's or he imagined he said Ginny's. And his eyes, hadn't Ron said something about his eyes over Christmas break?

Harry shook his head, shoving away the thoughts of Remus and Tonks. He looked over the barely illuminated bed, Remus' face and body lit enough to see but not enough to see if the man's eyes were open or closed or if his faced held that look of pain he'd had the other night.

Harry took a deep breath and walked over to Remus bed, finally stepping into the small amount of light. "Remus," he said softly with a comforting smile.

Remus did look a little better, his skin holding a little more color and he's eyes containing that old comforting sense of warmth that Harry could hardly forget.

"Oh, 'ello, Harry," Remus said returning the smile thought it'd didn't carry with it it's usual comfort, it was strained in a way Harry felt was visible to the entire world.

It was hard, so hard, to see Remus who always had that rock quality that he was unchanging and reliable. He knew everything, he was unfaltering. He was so like Professor Dumbledore in which you just knew you could trust him, you just knew that he knew what the proper thing to do was, you just knew with him.

Now, you just wanted him to be okay, you just wanted him to go back to normal. But how could he? He'd been attacked severely and now he was weak and unable to do anything more than try and recovery quickly, force himself to get better no matter how long it took.

There were so many setbacks in Remus' life, Harry realized. For so long he'd been forced to deal with his condition alone until Hogwarts. There he'd found true friends and had happiness, but still, he had that pain still carrying on with him. It wasn't shortly after leaving that his friends had to go into hiding and he didn't even know where, didn't know the secret. Then, they were gone, all of them, taking in one way from him, ripped away so mercilessly.

He'd spent so much time with that pain only to have Sirius back for two years before he was killed and Peter to betray them so happily. Harry wondered if Remus now dreamed of finally dieing, escaping the bad luck and pain that seemed to follow him around.

Harry looked deep into Remus' eyes, searching for the answer; wanting to know so badly how much Remus' cared about his own life, how much he wanted to live. He could see it, a shining light in the distance, shrouded by darkness, but there nonetheless, the desire to live. It was there along with the small happiness, clinging desperately for its own life, trying to survive just like him.

"I," Harry said softly before looking down, examining a wrinkle in the blanket that lay over Remus' body. He looked back up at Remus, "Why is everything always a mystery? Why is it that things are always so clouded in secrets? Nothing is ever as it seems."

Remus smiled comfortingly at Harry, "Life is mysterious, Harry. It's a journey with no map, walking into a room for the first time with your eyes shut tight. For you, there are mountains and rivers too big to go around and too wide to cross, but you some how make it through.

"You know, something I always loved about James and Lily, is that alone, they were two of the greatest people I'd ever met. James was so brave, so willing to take up a fight for someone being picked on. And Lily, she was so kind, kind for no reason."

Remus sighed and furrowed his brow, "They weren't perfect, James was arrogant and Lily was so stern. She would stick to a schedule, never be late, never do anything wrong; suppose that's not a bad point, but for a 17 year old girl, it is.

"When they finally got together, when Lily finally gave into James, they changed. They spent so much time, so much more time than he'd ever had with us, just talking. They'd sit in the common room talking until the sun came up. And James was still James and Lily was still Lily, but James wasn't arrogant anymore, he didn't strut, and Lily, she wasn't adverse to sneaking down to the kitchens with James in the middle of the night, she'd plan her time less, allow herself to not know what she was doing every minute of the day.

"I look at you sometimes, and I can see so much of them in you, as if you'd been raised by them. It's strange and I know we've said it so many times to you that you might be sick of it, but it's true. I loved them and I love you and sometimes I'm so amazed at the kindness you have and the bravery you show, like when they died, they stayed with you, adding so much more to who you really are."

Harry smiled, "Thanks, I… thanks," he finally said.

- - - - -

Harry watched the students walk around him as if he were a rock in the middle of a stream. Their pattern was shaped like an eye, his peers splitting feet before him and then closing that gap after they passed. His books were in his bag hanging at his side, a quill tucked behind his ear, an odd habit he picked up recently. He pulled his bottom lip through his teeth, the sharp sensation of his top teeth scraping his lip helping to pass the time.

He was unsure why he was standing there, just watching them mill around him, it was almost as if he couldn't move; he was waiting for something to happen to him, some epiphany to hit him.

It was the first day back since he'd seen Remus, talked to Remus, learned those secrets about Remus. He'd not told anyone, not even Ginny, because he knew he shouldn't know; he knew it wasn't his right to know or tell anyone. He'd been sneaky and stole a secret from Remus and he wasn't about to hand it out to anyone that would listen to him.

Maybe that was why he was standing there, he was feeling torn, cut off from the rest of the world, the rest of humanity. It was strange sometimes, how he felt so alone in the world, even the times when Ron, Hermione, and Ginny were around him. It wasn't so much a depressing self-pitying alone, just an alone. He knew he was alone in certain respects but he was curious as to what and who that made him.

He pulled his lip through his mouth again, focusing on why he didn't want to move from that spot, why he didn't want to stop thinking about life and all it's qanundrums. Maybe, he reasoned, it was because thinking and living are two separate things, and thinking is easier because thinking you don't have to interact with people, say things you don't mean. But when did Harry Potter lie? Never, save for keeping secrets and that was weighing on him.

The weight on his shoulders, had it always been there? He'd been living for months thinking his life was okay and that he was happy, constantly thinking about it, letting it dwell in his mind and always coming out to the same conclusion, but how many times do you get the answer wrong before you get it right?

He saw Ginny's bright hair through the crowd and realized how much his life focused on her. Maybe she was his happiness; she was the one that made him happy. He'd been happy before her though, even when he was living with the Dursleys he had that pain but he'd somehow found happiness.

So, who was he? Someone that found happiness no matter what, or someone who naively thought they were happy when they weren't? Why is it one will always doubt the sincerity of their happiness but not their sadness? Happiness will be analyzed for hours, trying to find out if it's honest and true, yet sadness is just excepted as fact, someone is sad, honest and true without doubt. Why?

He'd analyzed his happiness so much within the last few weeks without reason. His mind, idle, had found something to do; something to contemplate over and over again until maybe, at one time, an answer would come through, a definite answer that would be more that just an affirmation for a few hours or days, but everlasting in him.

What was it, that answer he was searching for? Was it that he was truly happy, or was it something more?

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A/N: You've taken the time to read… so please review!