Preface
A Matter of ChoicePosted originally on the Archive of Our Own at /works/7952497.
Rating:
Explicit
Archive Warning:
Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Fandom:
Harry Potter - J.K. Rowling
Relationship:
Remus Lupin/Harry Potter
Character:
Harry Potter, Remus Lupin
Additional Tags:
Challenge Response, First Time, Drama
Collections:
Ink Stained Fingers
Stats:
Published: 2003-09-02 Words: 16163
A Matter of Choice
by ScarletCarly
Summary
WARNING: ORDER OF THE PHOENIX SPOILERS!
Harry must get married as soon as he turns 18. He has a choice: either marry someone he can tolerate, or marry someone who will likely get him killed before the honeymoon is even over. The marriage is supposed to be just on paper, but there's a legal snag, and things become very complicated. Warnings: Awkward first time sex. ORDER OF THE PHOENIX SPOILERS!
Notes
This story was originally archived at Ink Stained Fingers, which was created in 2002 as a home for Harry Potter slash fiction. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in January 2015. We e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author or artist, please contact me using the e-mail address at the Ink Stained Fingers collection profile.
Author's notes: WARNING: ORDER OF THE PHOENIX SPOILERS!
This fic is part of the 'Mortal Moon' Harry/Remus Fuh-Q-Fest http/groups./group/mortalmoonfest/. Challenge: #17, #92, and #119.
A Matter of Choice
A Matter of Choice
WARNING!!!
ORDER OF THE PHOENIX SPOILERS
Harry stared at the parchment in his hand. He had read it twice, and now the words blurred in front of his eyes, running together into a shapeless mass. After the initial shock, numbness had descended upon him. His mind was a blank; he wasn't even aware of the people in the room with him anymore.
"Harry?"
Lupin's timid voice reached through the fog in Harry's mind. He startled and looked up to find Lupin bending over him. "I'm... fine," he said quickly. "I'm fine. So. How do we stop this?"
Lupin sat back down. Harry saw him swallow hard and then glance at Dumbledore.
"Tell me there's a way to stop this," Harry said, now on the verge of panic. "Tell me I don't have to do this!"
"The contract," Dumbledore began, looking uncomfortable, "is binding. We will, of course, try to find a way --"
He didn't finish, because Harry had jumped up, his chair scraping loudly across the floor and falling over. "I will not marry Macnair's daughter!"
"Harry, please," Lupin said, grabbing his hand to stop him. "Calm down. We need to discuss this --"
"No!" Harry pulled away from Lupin and turned to Dumbledore and McGonagall. "There's nothing to discuss."
No one said anything. Realizing that no one had any easy answers for him, he turned on his heel and ran from the room, unable to stand another minute looking at the helpless expressions on their faces.
He ran all the way up to Gryffindor tower, his fists clenched almost as tightly as his teeth. It took all his strength to keep from slamming the door to the dormitory, and once inside he locked it with the strongest spell he knew. It wouldn't keep out his professors, but at least he would be safe from the prying eyes of his dorm mates.
He threw himself facedown on the bed.
How could his parents have done such a thing? Sure, arranged marriages were common in the Wizarding world. Neville Longbottom was going to marry Adda Hemmings straight out of Hogwarts, and Seamus Finnigan's mother had arranged a match between him and Susan Bones. But it was usually pureblood families who did this, or strongly conservative families, like Seamus'. Why had Harry's parents done this to him?
Of course, they probably hadn't known Macnair was a Death Eater. They never would have done it if they'd known. But that was no consolation to Harry.
Someone knocked.
"Go away," he growled, his voice muffled by the pillow he had buried his face into.
"Harry? Can't we talk?"
Harry sat up. Part of him didn't want to talk to anyone, especially Lupin, who must have known all about this arrangement, since he'd been one of James Potter's closest chums. Another part of him wanted to know why they had done it.
"Come in," he called. "I'm sure you can manage --"
The door opened and Lupin came in, shutting it again behind him.
"-- the lock," Harry finished with a scowl. He'd known his spell had not been anything spectacular, but he hated to see just how useless it really was.
"May I sit down?" Lupin asked, gesturing at Ron's bed, which was closest to Harry's.
"Be my guest," Harry said indifferently. He began to gather up the assorted papers and books he had crushed underneath himself earlier. One essay was fairly ruined.
Lupin sat down and watched him silently.
"Was there something you wanted?" Harry asked, still not meeting Lupin's eyes.
Another minute passed before Lupin cleared his throat and spoke. "I didn't know about the contract, Harry. Neither did Professor Dumbledore."
"I find that really hard to believe," Harry muttered.
"I just want to assure you we are doing everything we can. Macnair is really pushing this. He has some influence within the Ministry, being a long-time employee and head of his department."
"But everyone knows he's a Death Eater!" Harry protested.
Lupin sighed and rubbed his forehead wearily. "He... Well, it's a long story, Harry."
"Tell me!" Harry demanded. He was sick and tired of not knowing anything. He had been sure, for example, that Macnair had been sent to Azkaban with the rest of the Death Eaters captured at the Ministry of Magic building at the end of his fifth year. Of course, they had all been out before the summer's end, but he had taken it for granted they would no longer be trusted by the community.
"Macnair had no Mark. He claimed he had simply stayed late to finish some work, and was caught in the crossfire. Unfortunately, he had enough influence in the Ministry that his story was believed. All charges against him were dropped."
Harry shuddered. "How can people be so stupid? We're fighting a war. We can't afford --"
"We can't risk sending innocent people to prison."
"He wasn't innocent!" Harry exclaimed indignantly. "A dozen people could have testified to that!"
"What I meant," Lupin said softly, "is we can't afford to compromise the judicial process. We can't send people to prison with no evidence against them. That was done during the last war, and... Harry, you know the result of that. Sirius was not the only innocent man sent to Azkaban by an overzealous Department of Justice."
Harry scowled, but what could he say to that?
"You're telling me there's nothing stopping him from forcing me to marry his daughter?"
"I..." Lupin faltered, "I... Don't know. We're still looking into it."
Harry didn't buy that. If they had gone as far as informing him of what was happening, then the situation had to be serious. "How long have you known?" he asked suspiciously.
"A few months."
Harry threw him a dark look. "I thought so. Why wasn't I told?" The accusation came out more venomous than he intended. Lupin had always treated him with a degree of fairness Harry rarely received from anyone else. He felt betrayed by the knowledge that Lupin, too, kept things from him.
"We thought we wouldn't worry you unnecessarily, until we knew more."
"So you know more now," Harry smirked. "And I reckon it doesn't look good, or you wouldn't have told me."
Lupin didn't reply.
"Is there anything?" Harry asked desperately. "Anything at all? There has to be a way to break the contract."
"We're looking into it," Lupin repeated, averting his eyes.
"What about..." Harry hesitated. He didn't know if Lupin knew; so far he had only told Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. "I'm gay. Does that matter?"
Lupin looked slightly startled, but he shook his head. "I don't think it would make any difference to them. There is a clause about producing an heir, but there are ways of inducing a pregnancy other than..."
"I get it," Harry cut in, seeing Lupin's discomfort. "So, if you can't find a way to break the contract, I suppose we can hope I don't live to my eighteenth birthday, is that it? Because I certainly won't live long past it, if I marry into a Death Eater family. Might as well go out with a bit of dignity."
"Don't talk nonsense," Lupin said, his lips thinning.
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
Lupin stood up. "Look, Harry, I know this is a terrible blow. We wanted you to know because the information has leaked to the media. Dumbledore is trying to keep is quiet, but we didn't want you to be caught unprepared in case students got wind of it."
Harry groaned.
Lupin paused with his hand on the door handle. "We're not going to let that happen. If worse comes to worst..."
"What?" Harry demanded when Lupin did not finish.
Lupin hesitated. "I really shouldn't say anything."
Harry scrambled over the bed and jumped down. "Tell me! Please!" he pleaded, clutching at the sleeve of Lupin's robes.
Lupin studied Harry, who looked up at him with round, begging eyes.
"All right. But don't tell anyone I told you. This is strictly for the worst case scenario."
Harry nodded eagerly. "I promise. Tell me."
"There is a way to break the contract. You probably won't like it..."
"Anything has to be better!" Harry protested.
"The contract can be broken if you marry someone else."
Harry stared at him, feeling deflated. "That's it? Either way, I have to marry someone?"
Lupin frowned. "I told you you wouldn't like it."
"No..." Harry said, frowning also. "No, I suppose that isn't so bad. Once Macnair is exposed for what he is, I could just --"
"Divorce?" Lupin finished for him.
Harry frowned suspiciously at him. "Yes. Why?"
"There is no 'divorce' in the Wizarding world, Harry," Lupin told him with a shake of his head. "You see now why we are looking for a better way..."
Harry sat down on the edge of his bed and stared down at the floor. "Yeah. I get it." He kicked at a dirty sock, sending it skidding under Ron's bed. "Either way, I'm screwed."
Lupin patted him on the shoulder. "We'll find a way, Harry, I'm sure of it. I just wanted you to know there is no way we're going to let you marry a Macnair."
Harry sighed and didn't look up. He wished Lupin would leave; there was a nasty prickling behind his eyes and he didn't want Lupin to see him crying over such a stupid thing as this. Worse things had happened to him. He had to deal.
Finally the door shut softly behind Lupin, and Harry stood up and went over to the window, letting the cold air fan his flushed face.
By the time Ron and Neville returned from the library, Harry had pulled himself together and was lying on his bed, looking at a Quidditch magazine.
"What did Dumbledore want?" Ron asked.
"Just some nonsense about me not being safe in Hogsmeade," Harry lied. In a way, it was true. Dumbledore had told him the previous week that it was no longer a good idea for Harry to leave the grounds on the weekends, and Harry had not shared the bad news with his friends until now.
Ron's mouth fell open. "But... That's mad! Nothing's ever happened at Hogsmeade! It's crawling with Aurors!"
"I know," Harry said. "I told him so."
Ron huffed and ranted for another few minutes, but eventually, as there was nothing either of them could do, he calmed down. "I still think it's not fair," he said, pulling on his boots and fishing his broom out from under the bed. "But Hermione and I will bring you anything you want. You can count on us."
"Mmm," Harry murmured noncommittally, pretending to return to his magazine.
He was glad when Ron left for Quidditch practice, and gladder still that Ron had not asked him to come along. Ron still thought Harry was upset about losing his place on the team, not knowing that Harry himself had chosen not to return to playing. After his sad attempt at going back to a normal routine in his sixth year, Harry had realized things like Quidditch no longer held any importance for him. He only kept up appearances -- Quidditch magazines for instance -- to keep his friends from worrying about him.
Neville was poking at his Mimbulus Mimbletonia, which was spitting bits of green Stinksap from its numerous boils, so Harry pulled the curtain around his bed and threw aside the magazine, reasonably sure he would not be bothered until the dinner hour. As usual when he wanted to think, he lay back and stared up at the ceiling.
Two things were bothering him. First, he didn't trust Dumbledore to come up with a solution. Dumbledore hadn't exactly looked reassuring, and anyway, Harry was still convinced that if there had been any easy way to break the contract, it would have been taken care of without involving Harry. The second thing was directly related to the first, because after all, if there wasn't an easy way to break the contract, that left only the hard way. And to Harry, Lupin's idea seemed rather harsh, now that he thought about it.
If there was no option to dissolve the marriage, then he would be stuck with whomever he married, whether it was Macnair's daughter or someone else. That meant, for all intents and purposes, that he would never be able to marry the person he loved, or have a family of his own. The same would be true for the person he married. They would both be trapped.
Sighing unhappily, he turned over onto his side and shut his eyes. There was nothing he could do at the moment, and as usual the helplessness drained him of energy. Within minutes he was asleep.
He awoke to find Ron shaking him.
"Harry? You missed dinner. Are you feeling all right?"
"Yeah," Harry said, pulling himself into a sitting position and rubbing his eyes. "Why didn't someone wake me?"
"Dunno," Ron said, shrugging. "I went straight to dinner after practice. Everyone else was already there. Guess they just didn't want to disturb you."
Harry's stomach rumbled. "Great. Just great."
"You can sneak down to the kitchens," Ron suggested. "You don't have to go in, I'm sure a house elf will give you whatever you want."
Harry groaned and fell back on the bed, wishing he still had his Invisibility Cloak and that Dobby was still at Hogwarts. "Forget it, Ron. I have some chocolate from last weekend. It'll have to do."
Ron's forehead wrinkled worriedly, but he moved away. "All right. I should have thought to bring you something..."
"Lucky for Harry, I did," Hermione said from the doorway. She raised and waved a small brown paper bag. "Catch!"
Harry caught the bag with a grateful grin. "Thanks!"
They spent the evening as they usually did, talking and laughing and worrying about exams and homework assignments. Harry had no intention of burdening his friends with his problems, so he put on his mask and acted like nothing was wrong. He was getting so good at it, it almost came naturally.
He had plenty of practice in the coming weeks. Dumbledore did not ask to speak with him again, and though Lupin appeared to be around almost constantly, to the point that Harry thought the man might be following him, they didn't discuss Harry's situation.
There was only a month remaining of the school year, and Harry almost forgot his problems as exams drew near. Hermione's frantic study schedule left just enough time for him to eat three meals a day and fall into bed, utterly exhausted, by midnight each night.
He didn't want the year to end. Somehow, he had never thought about finishing his education, or what would come afterwards. Now the time had come, and it caught him almost by surprise.
Of course, the war had changed many plans. He wouldn't actually be leaving the castle. He would be saying goodbye to his friends, including Hermione, who was moving on to an apprenticeship, and Ron, who would be joining the Auror training program, but Harry himself would be staying. Hogwarts was where he was safe; at least as safe as anyone was these days. Hogwarts was where Dumbledore was, and Dumbledore had plans for Harry. He still had a lot to learn, and the Auror program was too tame for his needs. These days the Ministry was cranking out new Aurors at a frightening rate, but the training had been greatly compromised as the four year program was compressed into only sixteen months. Instead, Harry would receive private instruction from his former professors.
Still, what was Hogwarts without his friends? The end of the school year meant the end of an era in Harry's life, and no matter how he looked at it, things would never be the same again.
"Are you ready?" Hermione asked as the seventh years lined up outside the Great Hall on the first of the six exam days.
"No," Ron growled.
Harry only shook his head. He wasn't worried about the exams. At the least, he would pass Transfiguration and Defense. It didn't matter anyway. He was The Boy Who Lived, and in the middle of a war, no one was going to insist he repeat a year, even if he failed every one of his exams.
He passed. They all did. And now there was nothing left to do but say goodbye.
"I'll owl as soon as I get settled," Hermione promised tearfully, hugging him. "You have my address?"
"Yes," Harry said. He had to clear his throat. "Right here." He showed her the scrap of parchment he had pinned to the inside of his pocket for safe keeping.
"You know where to reach me," Ron said.
Harry nodded. Ron would be living at home until he completed training.
They stood on the platform, huddled together and unwilling to move. The train whistle blew.
"We have to go," Hermione said reluctantly. She picked up Crookshanks' basket. "Good bye, Harry." The tears spilled over, but she wiped them bravely with the back of her hand.
"Bye, Harry," Ron said gruffly, sticking out his hand.
They shook hands formally. Harry felt a bit ridiculous, but not more so than if they had both cried.
"I'll see you both soon!" he yelled as the train began to move and his friends leaned out the window to wave. He ran along the platform until the train gathered speed and left him behind in a cloud of dust.
"I'll see you," he said softly, with a final wave, knowing they could no longer see or hear him.
He walked slowly back to where Lupin was waiting to escort him back to the castle.
"So," he said, because he needed something to distract him, "is there any news?"
Lupin didn't need to ask what Harry meant. "No," he said reluctantly. "It doesn't look good."
Harry nodded. It was pretty much as he expected. "There's less than two months until my birthday..."
"I realize that," Lupin said.
"Look," Harry said, stopping in his tracks. "For once, can someone just tell me what's going on?"
Lupin turned around to face him and studied him for a moment. "All right. I suppose it is time."
Harry resisted snorting.
Lupin motioned toward a bench by the edge of the lake. "Do you want to sit down?"
They made their way over to the bench. Harry felt grateful to be sitting down.
Lupin sighed heavily. "I may as well tell you, Harry; we haven't found a solution. Macnair's claim is very strong."
Harry nodded.
"It may be time to give serious thought to --"
"The worst case scenario plan?" Harry finished for him, smirking. He'd had a feeling this was coming.
"Yes," Lupin said, not meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry, Harry."
"It's not your fault." He hated how Lupin was always apologizing for everything. Couldn't the facts be told plainly? They were easier to deal with when laid out in front of you, where you could see what you were dealing with.
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Harry picked absently at a tear on the hem of his robes.
"I'm not letting Dumbledore choose," he said as a new thought hit him.
"What?" Lupin asked, frowning.
"The person I'm supposed to marry. I'm not letting Dumbledore choose."
Lupin blinked several times, as if it had just occurred to him what the subject of their conversation was. "No, of course not."
Harry shot him a suspicious glance. "Has he said anything about it?"
Lupin looked uncomfortable. "Well..."
"He has!"
"Yes," Lupin admitted with a resigned sigh.
"I don't believe this," Harry said, shaking his head. "Well, he can forget about it. If I'm going to spend the rest of my life with someone, at least I'm going to have a say in it."
"I think," Lupin said, sounding even less comfortable now, "we better discuss this with Professor Dumbledore."
Harry glared at him. "I won't change my mind."
Lupin had already stood up. "I just meant it's time we sat down and discussed this openly."
Harry followed him, shaking his head a little. If they had really wanted to discuss things openly, they should have started months ago. But that wasn't Dumbledore's style, was it?
It was as if Dumbledore had been waiting for them. As soon as they stepped off the stairs into his office, he set aside his book and motioned them to sit down.
Harry sat down gingerly on the edge of one armchair. He didn't want to get too comfortable. Sometimes Dumbledore made it too easy to forget just what you were there for.
"I suppose Professor Lupin has explained the situation to you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, peering at Harry over his spectacles. There was no twinkle in his blue eyes now. He looked weary and old.
"Yes," Harry said. He hoped they could just get on to the important part of the discussion. He didn't want to be sidetracked.
"What you must understand, is we will continue to try to break the contract."
"I understand," Harry said.
"All right. In the meantime, we must consider the possibility that you may need to enter into a marriage. As a last resort, of course."
"I understand," Harry repeated. He glanced briefly at Lupin, but Lupin's attention was on Dumbledore. No help there.
"Ideally," Dumbledore continued, "it will be someone firmly on our side. Perhaps one of your friends...?"
Harry frowned. "My friends?"
"Hermione Granger."
Harry sat up straighter. "No. Hermione and Ron are dating. I won't ruin their lives like this."
"Harry," Lupin began, but Harry wouldn't let him finish.
"No! I won't do this to my friends. You said yourself, there won't be a way to get out of the marriage."
"Ginny Weasley," Dumbledore suggested.
"No," Harry said firmly. "For the same reason. No."
Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his eyes. "What do you suggest, then?"
Harry was momentarily stunned by the question. He looked from Dumbledore to Lupin. Both men were now looking at him expectantly, but also with a degree of weariness. He had the feeling they were merely humoring him, and didn't believe he could have anything valuable to contribute.
"Well," he said, determined to think every word through. "If I had to choose... I would choose someone who would be least impacted by this. Someone who wasn't planning to marry and have children."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "That narrows the possibilities considerably, Harry. Most young people do take it for granted that they will someday marry and have children. We had hoped..." Dumbledore paused, with another look at Lupin. "But Professor Lupin tells me you prefer the company of other young men."
Harry nodded. He was a bit peeved that Lupin had shared the information without his permission, but then remembered Lupin had no way of knowing how closely Harry had guarded it.
"Is there anyone you think you could grow to care about, Harry?" Lupin asked gently. "Many arranged marriages do in fact work out. Things need not be so grim."
Harry thought for a moment. Whom did he know who shared his preference? Justin Finch-Fletchley? Harry wrinkled his nose at the thought. Colin Creevey? No; not after the pictures Colin had sold to the Daily Prophet.
"I can't think of anyone," he admitted finally.
Dumbledore looked disappointed. "Then we must consider what you yourself suggested, Harry. Someone who will not be impacted by the marriage contract, or is willing to make that sacrifice."
Harry nodded. He felt a lump rising in his throat.
"That, invariably, means someone quite a bit older than yourself," Dumbledore added.
"I understand."
"There is more risk, as well," Lupin put in. "We must choose someone we know will not betray us." He exchanged a meaningful glance with Dumbledore, and Harry knew both were thinking of Peter Pettigrew.
"One of the Weasleys?" Dumbledore suggested. He was looking at Lupin, appearing to forget Harry was still in the room. "Bill? Or Charlie?"
Harry sighed. He was feeling left out again, but for once he didn't entirely mind. The lump in his throat was still growing.
"Harry?" Lupin cut into his thoughts. "I think Professor Dumbledore and I need to speak with the other Order members before we can continue this discussion."
Harry nodded. "I understand."
"Do you need me to escort you...?"
"Of course not," Harry said, getting up. "I can get to Gryffindor Tower on my own." He resented being treated like something made of glass, something everyone was afraid could shatter at the slightest careless touch or a single ill-chosen word.
He returned to the now empty dormitory, feeling suddenly alone and small. Nothing was ever easy for him; he'd become used to that, but sometimes his bad luck surprised even him.
He hated the idea of Dumbledore discussing his problem with all the other Order members, who now numbered close to thirty. All those people would know things about him he'd barely had time to confide in his closest friends.
He just hoped a decision would be made quickly. He didn't want to think about it anymore.
For the next two weeks he tried to stay busy, though thoughts of his predicament were never far. At night, especially, they tended to come to the surface and keep him wide-awake in the dark, or else waking up with the vague memory of troubled dreams, drenched in cold sweat.
Every night before bed he crossed the day off in his calendar, watching the trail of red marks grow. Soon there would be more marked days than days left before his birthday. Already, eight weeks had dwindled down to six.
He wished someone would come and talk to him, tell him what was going on, what was being done for him. Just knowing what was happening outside Hogwarts' walls would have made the waiting easier, even if there was no good news.
One afternoon he was napping, having slept badly the previous night. He was awakened by a soft knock on the door; he never slept easily or deeply anymore.
"Harry? May I come in?"
Harry raised his head and tried to shake off sleep. "What is it?" he asked, his voice thick.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
Harry cleared his throat and sat up. "It's all right. Come in."
Lupin came in. He ignored Harry's invitation to sit down.
"I wanted to let you know that a decision has been made. Bill Weasley is willing to enter into the marriage."
Harry swallowed hard. "Did Dumbledore talk him into it?"
"No," Lupin said with a shake of his head. "He asked for volunteers. Bill understands the implications and the sacrifice he is being asked to make."
Harry looked down and nodded. He hated being the reason for someone to have to sacrifice anything. Especially something as important as his freedom to marry. It was bad enough that Harry himself would lose that.
Lupin seemed to understand Harry's unhappiness. He came over and put his hands on Harry's shoulders, massaging the tense muscles soothingly. "It will be all right, Harry. We just have to do what we must, as always. Life goes on."
Harry looked up, sighing. "I know. We've been through worse. I just hate always being the cause..."
"It isn't your fault. Never think that. It's one more try on their part to get at you, and we must make sure they don't succeed; just like in any battle. Don't forget Harry, this is part of war."
Harry leaned back against Lupin. Sometimes he wished they were closer. There was still something between them; something that had only shrunk a bit with the years they had known each other and sorrows they had shared. At times like these, it frustrated him to no end to feel Lupin pull away from him.
"I have to go," Lupin said, predictably. "Dumbledore has called a staff meeting."
Harry nodded, averting his eyes to hide the hurt. A moment later the door shut behind Lupin and he was alone again; only slightly better off now that he knew what the future held for him. At least he wouldn't lie awake at night anymore, wondering, worrying, unable to sleep because of the thoughts whirling through his exhausted mind.
He liked Bill; what little he knew of him. During the summer he had spent at The Burrow prior to his fourth year, Harry had learned to admire Bill's courage and his clear-headed composure in crisis. The few times they had talked at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, Harry had admired Bill's frankness and practicality. This, however, was all he knew. He had never been alone with Bill; had never spoken to him other than at the dinner table, surrounded by other people. He didn't know what Bill enjoyed doing in his spare time, or what qualities Bill found admirable in others. Still, it was a start; he hoped they could be friends, and that Bill would not come to resent Harry's presence in his life.
Because they would be together for the rest of their lives, whether they ever learned to like each other or not. He had found a book of wizard law, and after reading it from cover to cover he understood just how serious his predicament was. Unlike Muggle marriages, a wizard marriage was never a matter of legal ties only.
The looks he received from Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Lupin grated on his nerves. Sometimes one of them would appear on the verge of speaking to him, only to change their mind the next moment. Sometimes he saw them talking, and they would stop when he came nearer. Pity was evident in their eyes, especially when they thought he couldn't see them watching him.
As always when something ominous was on the horizon, time seemed to pass quickly. He had little to keep him busy, with no classes and only occasional private lessons when Dumbledore or Lupin could spare an hour or two. Everyone was busy; everyone was involved in the war but Harry.
One night he crossed off another day in his calendar, leaving a scant twenty days before the end of July.
He was still staring at the page ten minutes later, and roused only when he heard footsteps on the stairs outside the dorm room. Not wanting to appear to have been moping, he sat down on his bed and opened his battered old copy of Quidditch Through the Ages.
"Harry?" Lupin called as he knocked on the half open door.
"Come in," Harry said, putting down the book quickly. He could tell just by Lupin's voice that something wasn't right, and coupled with his impression of Dumbledore and McGonagall over the previous few days, he easily deduced that something had gone wrong with their plans.
Lupin cleared his throat, still hovering in the doorway.
"Something's gone wrong, hasn't it?" Harry said, saving him the trouble.
"Yes."
"I knew it. What happened?"
Lupin sank down wearily on the edge of the next bed. "Macnair's lawyers blocked any possibility of a legal marriage between you and Bill."
Harry stared at him for a moment, trying to grasp the implications. "Do you mean...?"
"The plan's not going to work. At least not the way we envisioned."
"But... that was our last option!"
Lupin looked at him and swallowed. His hands were twisting the hem of his robes into a knot.
"Tell me there's another plan," Harry whispered. Lupin's nervousness was infectious. "Please."
Lupin averted his eyes again, focusing on something outside the window. "You can give up your citizenship. Leave Britain for a while."
"Are you serious?"
"It has been discussed. If necessary, we are ready to transport you out of the country."
The fog that had clouded his mind following Lupin's announcement lifted as a jolt of anger stabbed into him.
"Yes," he smirked, "that's exactly what I should do. Run like a coward. That's exactly what they want, isn't it? Run me out of Britain. And Dumbledore is actually considering this?"
Lupin sighed. "The choices are rather limited, Harry. Our first priority is to keep you safe."
"And never mind the blow to our side's morale? Never mind if it looks like I'm running out on everyone just because I don't agree with an arrangement my own parents made for me?"
"Everyone who is on our side will know the truth."
"The media will have a field day." Harry sniffed contemptuous at the thought of Rita Skeeter or one of the other reporters who had tormented him over the years gloating over the story.
"You still care what the Daily Prophet prints?"
"No," Harry scowled. "Yes. I care when it affects other people. I've always said I would stand and fight, no matter what. They'd finally catch me in a lie. All these years, that's the one thing they haven't been able to do."
Lupin didn't reply. He was staring out the window again.
"There is something else, isn't there?" Harry prompted. He could see that whatever it was, Lupin was not keen on telling him.
"Yes."
"Let me guess -- I'm not going to like it?"
Lupin sighed and shut his eyes with a pained expression.
"Tell me," Harry said softly, reaching out to touch Lupin's hand.
Lupin opened his eyes and looked at him sadly. "It's not something any of us want for you."
Harry waited. A few moments passed, and Lupin sighed and shook his head. "All right. It's... like this. They have blocked a legal marriage, but that only means you cannot marry in traditional fashion, with a ceremony. There are other ways."
"This sounds exactly like our first plan," Harry pointed out.
Lupin's only reply was a small shake of the head before he continued. "Marriages in the Wizarding world -- at least in Britain -- are recorded by an ancient scroll. It was created centuries ago by a powerful wizard who wished to ensure the sanctity of marriage for all time. These days, the scroll adds records whenever an ordained priest or warlock performs a marriage ceremony, but in the old days..."
"What?" Harry asked. "What did they do in the old days?"
"You must understand, Harry, that wizards did not live in communities like they do now. Hogsmeade did not yet exist. Wizarding schools like Hogwarts had not been built. Methods of magical transportation and communication were unreliable at best. Even the owl post we take for granted today was virtually unknown in many areas. Our kind lived in small family groups, or clans, and some never met others. Muggleborn witches and wizards often never learned of their powers, and certainly it was rare for them to learn to control their magic, especially since wands were not available to them. From there stem the Muggle tales of old crones brewing potions and flying on brooms -- those were the only magics they could control without a wand or an education."
Harry frowned, trying to follow.
"So you see, it was often quite impossible for the average witch or wizard to reach someone who could perform a legal ceremony, and a ritual was used instead. The ritual could be performed by the couple alone, and the scroll would record the marriage automatically."
Harry nodded, now excited. "But, that's great! Then nothing is stopping us! You said yourself, there's no divorce, so once my marriage is on this scroll, no one can do anything about it!"
Lupin let out a deep breath and shook his head. "It's not that simple."
"Explain."
"When a legal marriage is performed, the process is very simple. Aside from being bound in matrimony for the rest of your natural lives, there are no other stipulations. The two partners can continue to lead almost separate lives if they choose. The ceremony has evolved over time in response to changing needs in our society. It is understood that not all marriages are based on love and commitment, and that in some cases arrangements are made to end a family feud, or for financial gain. Such are the times."
Harry squirmed impatiently.
"The ritual, on the other hand, has never been changed, it was simply abandoned.The ritual, Harry... required proof that love and commitment existed."
"Oh," Harry said. He frowned. "What does that mean?"
"In short?"
"Please."
"Copulation."
"Sex?" Harry asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Yes."
"Oh," Harry said again. "I don't suppose Bill likes that idea...?"
"You would still be willing to go through with it?" Lupin asked incredulously.
Harry shrugged, though feeling uncomfortable. "If that's what I had to do..." He shrugged again. "Look, it isn't like it's that big a deal."
"Well," Lupin said slowly. "Unfortunately, Bill is out of the question now, as are most others. You see, it was assumed that people with opposing sexual preferences could not be entering into a marriage for reasons of love. It is a crude philosophy, and rarely true in the real world, but as I explained, the entire ritual was devised by a single individual. It reflects his ideals."
Harry understood. "You're saying it wouldn't work because Bill isn't gay."
"Exactly."
"So we have to find someone who is," Harry said, as calmly as he could make his voice sound at the moment.
Lupin began to chew the nail on his index finger. A bad sign.
"I suppose this is old news to you," Harry said crossly. "I suppose you all discussed this already."
"You see, the choices are very limited, Harry."
"I gathered that," Harry said, trying to catch Lupin's gaze. Lupin still refused to look at him. "Just tell me who is being considered."
"There is no one close to your own age," Lupin warned.
"That's good, I suppose," Harry said, though it was starting to talk around the lump rising in his throat. "I did say it should be someone who won't be too inconvenienced."
"There's Chevalier," Lupin said, with a quick glance at Harry.
Harry swallowed. "He's Dumbledore's age." Then he caught himself and tried to make his voice lighter. "Anyone else?"
"There is only one other choice, Harry. There is no one else."
"Who is it?" Harry asked, trying to swallow again. He had to clear his throat.
"Professor Snape."
Harry just looked at him blankly. The words refused to sink in.
"Harry?"
Harry covered his face with his hands and screwed his eyes shut. He started to laugh, the sound muffled and sounding more like choked sobs. He felt hysterical, or somewhere close.
"Harry?" Lupin reached out and tried to pry Harry's hands away. "Are you going to be all right?"
As quickly as it had come, Harry's affliction passed. He coughed and wiped his nose and mouth with the back of his hand. "I'm all right. But I'm not marrying Snape. He isn't laying one hand on me. You can tell that to Dumbledore next time you see him. No wonder he's been avoiding me."
Lupin seemed rather relieved that Harry's fit had run its course. He also appeared at a loss.
Harry, on the other hand, was studying him with a thoughtful expression. "Professor Lupin? Is there some reason no one has suggested -- er..."
Lupin coughed, looking away.
"I mean," Harry went on, a bit flustered now, "you and Sirius were -- er..."
Lupin cringed, and still wouldn't look at him. "I couldn't marry you, Harry."
"Why not?" Harry demanded, too upset to hide his hurt and anger. "What's wrong with me?"
"I --" Lupin hesitated, throwing a quick glance Harry's way and then looking down at the carpet, as though appropriate words might appear there. "It would be an extremely awkward situation. I would be bad for you, Harry."
Harry opened his mouth to retort, but no words came out. After a moment Lupin looked up, and Harry was still staring at him with the same confused expression. "You think Snape would be better for me?"
"Perhaps... in some ways," Lupin said cautiously.
"Is it about your condition? Being a werewolf? I'd rather marry a vampire than Snape."
Lupin shook his head slowly.
"What, then?"
Lupin didn't answer for a long time. Harry felt his frustration mounting with each passing moment.
"You're James' son."
Harry wasn't even sure he'd heard the half-whispered words. "What?"
"You --" Lupin cleared his throat. "You're James' son."
Harry frowned in confusion. "And...?"
Lupin got up abruptly. "James would have wanted you to lead as normal a life as possible, Harry." From his tone, Harry gathered Lupin considered the conversation over.
"Wait a minute...!"
But Lupin was already heading for the door. "It isn't something I can do, Harry. Best forget it."
"I'm not James!" Harry yelled after him as Lupin made a hasty retreat down the stairs. "Do you hear? I'm not James!"
He wanted to run after Lupin, but he couldn't even find the strength to rise from the bed. When he could no longer hear Lupin's footsteps, he slumped sideways and shut his eyes tightly.
Did Lupin really think Harry's father would have preferred to allow Harry to marry Snape?
Harry sat up, suddenly furious with himself. Why hadn't he asked Lupin exactly that? He would have liked to hear his answer!
Moments later, he was running down the corridor towards Lupin's office, determined to find him and continue their conversation, this time now allowing Lupin to confuse and distract him.
Lupin wasn't in his office. Undeterred, Harry set off for the third floor, where Lupin's quarters were.
Lupin wasn't there either. Either that, or he was ignoring Harry's pounding and yelling.
Pausing to catch his breath, Harry considered marching down to the staffroom to see if Lupin was there. But the staffroom was off limits, and he wouldn't get in without the password. He didn't think he dared shout for Lupin to come out.
He kicked the door in frustration.
"Potter."
Harry froze. Somewhere in the back of his mind had been the thought that the racket he was causing would bring someone running to see what was wrong, but Snape's voice still startled him.
"There is no need to attack the door."
Harry didn't turn around.
After a moment Snape sniffed irritably, apparently annoyed by Harry's continued irresponsiveness. "Let me explain something to you, Potter. For your own good. Werewolves are rapacious, parochial creatures. Petty jealousy and selfishness is a way of life for them --"
Harry whipped around, heat rushing to his face. "Remus Lupin is the most unselfish, the most kind --"
"Lupin," Snape interrupted coldly, "has learned to keep his base instincts hidden. The nature of the beast has not changed."
Harry balled his fists and took a step closer to Snape. "I'm not going to marry you," he said, enunciating each word with painful clarity.
Snape looked repulsed. "I should hope not."
Harry stared at him, not sure what Snape was up to, but determined to sniff it out before he fell for some dirty trick.
"As I was saying," Snape continued in the same cold tone, his eyes boring into Harry's, "the werewolf is a self-centered creature, thinking of nothing more than its own gains and pleasure. The mate of the werewolf, if unable to hold his own, would be subjugated and domineered."
Harry narrowed his eyes and his fists clenched again, his nails digging into his palms. "I don't know what you're talking about. He wouldn't treat his partner with anything but kindness. Werewolves mate for life!"
A look of utter disgust crossed Snape's face; the same look he had worn each time Harry had given an incorrect answer in class. "I can see all words are wasted on you."
Harry fairly shook with rage, but Snape was already stalking away.
The lock clicked behind him, and Harry turned to see the door open slightly.
"Professor Lupin?"
"Come in, Harry," Lupin's weary voice said from within.
Harry pushed the door open, stepped inside, and shut it again.
The room was dark, the only source of light was the dying fire in the fireplace. When he squinted he could make out Lupin's form slumped in one of the armchairs.
"Sit down."
Harry crossed the room and sat down across from Lupin. He couldn't even see Lupin's face to judge his expression.
The silence stretched.
"He's right."
Harry jerked backwards involuntarily, as if Lupin's soft voice had been a physical blow. "What?"
"Everything Snape just told you has at least some truth in it," Lupin repeated. "As well as what you said."
"I don't understand."
Lupin sniffed, or smirked; it was hard to tell without seeing his face. Harry frowned at the fireplace, where only glowing embers remained.
"Werewolves mate for life, Harry. You said that yourself, and it's true. A werewolf will stay with his mate until the mate's death, or his own, whichever comes first. Humans rarely do that. What does that tell you?"
After a moment, Harry shook his head. "I don't know. That werewolves are more loyal than other people?"
Lupin was silent.
"That werewolves have different... are different...?"
Lupin still didn't say anything, and Harry grew frustrated. "Look, I don't know what you mean. What's wrong with being loyal? Doesn't everyone want a mate who will stick by them no matter what? Humans are supposed to do that too. It's in the marriage vows. If they're too fickle to do what they're supposed to --"
"Humans have a choice."
It was Harry's turn to fall silent.
Lupin cleared his throat. "The werewolf, like Snape said, is controlled by powerful instincts. It isn't loyal because it forces itself to be, it's loyal because its instincts force it to be."
Harry frowned, still not understanding. "Are you saying you can't marry me because Sirius was your mate? You still have to be loyal to him?"
"No. I'm free to choose another mate." Lupin hesitated. "Who will remain my mate until his death... or mine."
Harry thought he understood. He gritted his teeth in an effort to bite back his sudden anger, and rose from the chair. "I get it. Fine, I won't bother you again." He headed for the door.
"Harry?" Lupin called after him. "I don't think you understood me correctly. I did not refuse because it would keep me from entering another relationship."
Harry stopped, but he didn't turn around. "It's all right, Professor Lupin. I do understand. I'm the one who said it should be someone who wouldn't be inconvenienced. At least Snape would still be able to be with other people."
He shuddered as he realized what he'd said. Somewhere in his mind, the idea of marrying Snape had already taken root.
Behind him the fire roared to life, and the room was illuminated with a soft orange glow.
"Come sit down, Harry. I will explain. You deserve that much."
Slowly, Harry turned around and returned to his chair.
Lupin studied him for a few moments, then sighed. "All right. I don't know where to start..."
"You don't owe me an explanation," Harry said. "You have every right to refuse."
Lupin sighed again. "What I've been trying to explain is that a werewolf has no choice but to be loyal to his mate. It is not a conscious decision." Lupin searched Harry's face, and Harry nodded automatically. "Right now, Harry, when I look at you, all I see is my best friend's son. I don't want --" He hesitated, looking down at his hands, which were twisting a loose thread on his robes. "If we were married, those feelings would change. It wouldn't be up to me. The instinct would be to treat you as my mate, regardless of what my logical mind -- my human mind -- said. And Snape was right; werewolves are selfish, jealous creatures. No one touches a werewolf's mate." He looked away, not meeting Harry's eyes.
Harry didn't speak; he couldn't.
After a few moments, Lupin looked up. "Harry?"
"I --" Harry shook his head helplessly, searching for words. "I don't understand. How is that a bad thing? If you wanted to be married to me -- I mean really married --" he faltered, "I don't see anything wrong with that."
"You're not listening!" Lupin said, rising and beginning to pace. "It wouldn't be right. It wouldn't be a choice. When Sirius and I... We had those feelings already. You're not supposed to care for someone based only on sex. That isn't love. That's nothing."
"You told me arranged marriages sometimes work out," Harry pointed out. "You could learn to love me... if you wanted to."
Lupin scowled at him. "I couldn't."
It took Harry a moment to recover, and to force himself to remain sitting, though his nails dug into the leather armrests. "Why?"
"Because," Lupin said, very deliberately. "You're James' son."
"Why do you keep dragging him into this? Harry demanded. "You knew him. So tell me, would he have rather I married you, or Snape? Because that's the choice here. You or Snape."
"That isn't the choice at all. You marry Snape, and you can still have a normal life. Marry me, and..."
"And what?" Harry cut in. "I don't know what kind of normal life you're talking about. Who would want to be with me, if they knew we could never marry or have a family?"
"You could find someone who would understand your situation," Lupin said dismissively.
"Or not. And if I can't, then all I'll be able to have is meaningless sex."
Lupin said nothing.
"So what if you developed feelings for me just because we have sex? At least you'd have those feelings. If I marry Snape, I will never," Harry emphasized the last word, "have a chance at that kind of relationship. I could never marry, and chances are, I wouldn't find anyone who could both love me and accept that our relationship could never be legalized."
Lupin scowled. "I told you, you could find someone who would understand."
"I've read all about wizard marriages! Don't tell me that. A couple who didn't legally marry would be discriminated against at every turn." He mirrored Lupin's scowl. "There's nothing more meaningless than entering into a relationship when you know it won't go anywhere."
"I couldn't love you," Lupin said, shaking his head. "You just aren't willing to understand, are you? I would be loyal to you, yes. And I would keep you from pursuing other relationships. There wouldn't be anything else! I don't want there to be anything else. I could never have those feelings toward --"
"James' son?" Harry put in sarcastically.
Lupin gave him a dark look. "Do you think I could ever forget who you are?"
Harry wished he would, but chose not to say so. "I'm just saying I would rather not count on something that isn't likely to happen. At least I already feel comfortable with you. I could love you --" He froze, biting his lip, trying to gauge Lupin's reaction. When Lupin didn't respond, he continued, "Or at least be comfortable sharing a house and accepting all those things that come with being married. Do you want me to be tied to Snape like that? Having to get his permission every time I wanted to do something? That's how marriage works, isn't it? You have to make all decisions together."
"Only the important ones," Lupin said. "And no one is going to let Snape control you."
"So now you want to bring in other people?" Harry smirked. "Is Dumbledore going to keep Snape in check for me for the rest of my life? That's the only person he'd ever listen to."
Lupin's scowl deepened, but he didn't say anything.
"Snape said you've learned to keep your instincts in check, so I take that to mean I wouldn't be in any danger from you. Doesn't that mean we don't have to do anything, once we're married? So there won't be any problem, other than me not being able to cheat on you."
Lupin looked disgusted. "You shouldn't have to think of it as cheating."
"You know I'm right," Harry said angrily. "You're just determined to argue no matter what."
He took Lupin's silence as an affirmation.
"If there's any chance you can do this," Harry pleaded, "please don't make me have to marry Snape. You know how wrong it would be. My father wouldn't have wanted it at all. If he was really your friend, then he would have trusted you with me."
He didn't know what else he could say to convince Lupin, so he waited with bated breath while Lupin studied a stain on the carpet.
"I will consider what you said," Lupin said finally, looking less than enthusiastic at the prospect of doing so.
Harry, feeling like nothing he had said had made any difference, allowed Lupin to herd him toward the door. "When will you let me know?"
"As soon as I make a decision."
Harry found himself staring at a closed door. "Great," he muttered under his breath, turning to leave.
It was no use hoping to get an answer promptly. The next day, Lupin wasn't at breakfast. Dumbledore avoided meeting Harry's eyes. Harry wondered if Lupin had said anything to him.
As the others finished eating, Harry was still picking at his food. Finally giving up, he pushed aside his barely touched plate and rose from the table.
"Harry, may I have a moment?" Dumbledore said before Harry could leave.
He nodded, stepping aside to allow McGonagall and Sprout to pass them.
"I wanted to let you know the Ministry has given in to Macnair's request to hold the marriage ceremony on the third of August."
Harry swallowed. Three days after his birthday. "I understand."
"Has Professor Lupin discussed your options with you?"
"Yes."
Dumbledore nodded sadly. "I'm sorry you are forced to make such a difficult choice."
Harry shifted uncomfortably. He didn't know how to respond.
"Would you like me to have a word with him?" Dumbledore asked gently.
So Dumbledore did know what was going on. Harry, though tempted, shook his head. "If he doesn't want to do it, I don't want anyone to force him."
Dumbledore nodded. "Very well. Give him some time, he may come to see things from your point of view."
Harry was glad when Dumbledore left him. He wasn't sure why he felt that having Dumbledore force Lupin into the marriage was any worse than what Dumbledore must have done to get Snape to agree to it, but he couldn't help hoping that if Lupin agreed, it would be his own choice.
He didn't see Lupin all day. Every time he passed Lupin's quarters or his office, he had to resist the temptation to knock. If Lupin wasn't ready to see him, Harry had to be patient.
Another day passed, and then another. Harry had little to distract him, and so spent the bulk of his time trying to keep at bay all his uncomfortable thoughts. It was like trying to stop a flood with a handful of pebbles.
The full moon kept him from seeing Lupin for three more days. He didn't think he could stand much more. He could accept Lupin's rejection, maybe, if only he knew one way or the other. Not knowing only intensified his nervousness as July thirty-first approached.
He couldn't wait any longer. His birthday was days away, and Lupin still made no move to speak to him.
"Come in," Lupin said as Harry knocked tentatively on his office door.
"Er..." Harry said, not sure how to begin.
"I've made up my mind," Lupin said, not looking up from a thick book from which he was copying passages onto a roll of parchment.
Harry swallowed and prepared himself for the worst.
"I'll do it."
Harry startled. "You'll -- what?"
Lupin looked up. "I'll do it. That is, if you still prefer it."
"I do," Harry said quickly.
Lupin nodded, turning back to his book. "Good. I'm almost finished with the draft of our vows."
Harry stared at the book, which looked ancient. Lupin smiled when he saw his face. "Don't look so worried. It's just the basics."
"I wasn't worried," Harry said. "Just curious. So, when do we -- er..."
Lupin's expression instantly darkened. He frowned. "It has to be after your birthday."
"Oh."
"We'll have to leave early. We won't be able to use magic, and it's a fair walk."
"Where?" Harry asked, confused.
"It's a temple. Or used to be. I expect it's ruins now."
"Oh," Harry said again.
Lupin turned the page of the book and frowned.
"Well... I'll just... go..." Harry said, seeing Lupin wasn't interested in further conversation.
Lupin didn't look up. "Right. I'll see you, Harry."
When the door closed behind him, Harry shut his eyes for a long moment.
Lupin had agreed. Harry had almost given up hoping he would.
Feeling inexplicably exhausted, he made his way back to his dorm room and collapsed on the bed.
He wouldn't have to marry Snape.
He stared at the ceiling, trying to decide how he really felt. There were so many confusing, contradictory feelings coursing through him.
Lupin was many things to him; teacher, friend... Harry had only found out after Sirius' death that the two had been lovers, though it had cleared up many things for him, and he had wondered how he could have missed seeing it. And now, Lupin would be his lover, too, even if only for one night.
He would be lying to himself if he said he felt comfortable. Seeing one of his teachers, or any adult, as a potential lover wasn't something he was used to.
He shook his head to dispel the thoughts. There wasn't anything he could do about it, and there was no sense in making himself more nervous. He still had to get through the next four days, somehow.
There were things he needed to do, which he had been putting off until plans were more certain. He had to let his friends know what was going on. Otherwise, their first clue might be the front page of a tabloid.
Still, he convinced himself to put it off until the next day, while he tried to think of the best way to break the news to them.
He owled Ron first, and asked him to relay the information to Hermione, thinking it would be faster than if he waited for Hedwig to return and sent out a separate letter to her. He couldn't say much in his letter, but he conveyed his need to meet with them.
Hedwig returned with a response; Hermione wouldn't be free to travel until the thirtieth. Somehow Harry had expected his friends to drop everything and come to him when he needed them. He had to force himself to remember that his friends had things to do now; Harry was the only one languishing without purpose.
It didn't surprise him when the days passed quickly, just when he would have given anything to slow time down. He wasn't ready. Nowhere close.
Lupin was avoiding him again, though Harry supposed that was for the best. He never knew what to say when they met. Lupin was spending all his time pouring over ancient texts; Harry couldn't help since most of them appeared to be in a dialect he couldn't decipher, where words seemed familiar and yet he could not make sense of them.
When Ron and Hermione Apparated to Hogsmeade, he couldn't even meet them; going off Hogwarts grounds was no longer advisable, according to Dumbledore. He waited by the Quidditch pitch.
"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked as soon as they were within hearing range. "Did something happen?"
"I think you better sit down."
As one, they sat down, their eyes growing wide.
Harry attempted a laugh. "It isn't that bad."
They didn't look convinced.
"Look," Harry began. "This is a very long story and I'm not going to go into detail. It's like this. Macnair --"
Hermione startled slightly at the familiar name.
"Yes, the Death Eater. Apparently my parents betrothed me to his daughter when I was a baby."
Ron's eyes became as wide as saucers, while Hermione paled.
"But the good news is, we found a way to break the contract."
"Oh!" Hermione let out a sigh of relief.
"There's just one problem," Harry went on. "I have to get married."
They stared at him.
"But... What?" Ron said, looking utterly confused.
"No, Ron, he means he has to marry someone else." She turned to Harry. "There was no other way?"
"I could leave the country," Harry said, raising an eyebrow pointedly.
"You can't do that!" Ron exploded. Only Hermione's grip on his arm kept him sitting down.
"I'm NOT," Harry said. "I'm staying exactly where I am."
They waited. He thought they were both holding their breath.
"I'm marrying Lupin."
They continued to stare at him until he shifted uncomfortably under their gaze.
"He's twice your age, Harry," Hermione said weakly. "He was our teacher."
"It was him or Snape."
There was a bit of grim satisfaction in the way Ron choked and sputtered. "Don't say things like that!"
"Look," Harry said, understanding that his friends would need time to deal with the news. "This is how things are. This is war. We do what we have to. I wanted you to know before you saw it on the front page of the Prophet."
Hermione nodded mutely.
"So," Harry said, determined now that he had delivered the news that their visit should not be in vain. "What have you two been doing? Tell me everything."
They didn't speak about Harry's impending marriage again. At times over the course of the day, Harry felt almost like they were back in school; just three friends talking and laughing without a care in the world. Only when Harry accompanied Hermione to the edge of the no-Apparition zone did she broach the subject again.
"Is there anything I can do?"
Harry shook his head. "No. But I'd appreciate it if --" He hesitated. "There's going to be a big mess when the papers get this."
She nodded, placing her hand over his. "I'll be here for you if you need me."
"I know," Harry said, able to smile genuinely for the first time. "You always are."
With another hug and a wave, she Disapparated.
Harry headed back toward the castle, feeling slightly warmed by the knowledge that his friends would still be by his side despite everything that was happening.
"Are you ready?"
Harry looked up to face Lupin, who had been waiting for him in the doorway. "Yes."
"We leave before dawn. Best to turn in and try to get some sleep."
They walked together as far as Lupin's office. They didn't speak, and when Harry went on alone, he felt as though a heavy weight was on his chest.
He shook his head as he stared into the mirror above his bed. What was wrong with him that Lupin was so uncomfortable around him? And what was wrong with him that he couldn't think about what he had to do in logical, unemotional terms?
As he undressed and got into bed, he forced himself not to think about the next day, but only his exhaustion finally allowed him to sleep.
He awoke before the sunrise, dressed, packed some spare clothing, and left his dorm room without a backwards glance. He was determined to act brave, if not actually feel it. There were others to consider, like Lupin, who was feeling bad enough already.
Lupin was already having breakfast. He was alone in the Great Hall, but as soon as Harry sat down across from him, another plater appeared. Harry helped himself to the food.
"We'll start off as soon as it's light out," Lupin told him, studying his face. "We should get there by late afternoon."
"Sure," Harry said lightly, taking a sip of pumpkin juice and trying to look nonchalant. "Will we have to spend the night?"
"No. As soon as we complete the ritual we will Apparate to Hogsmeade, and walk from there. By then there won't be anything anyone could do."
"All right," Harry agreed, shrugging. "Sounds good."
"Harry..." Lupin began gently, but sighed and shook his head, returning to his meal.
Dumbledore came to see them off, but to Harry's relief he spoke only to Lupin. As they started off, Harry looked back to see Dumbledore still standing on Hogwarts' front steps, watching them.
"This is hard for him, you know," Lupin said. "He wanted so much to protect you."
Harry didn't know what to say, but Lupin didn't seem to expect him too.
The sun rose slowly behind them. At first they talked, though never about anything important. Harry thought Lupin was purposely avoiding subjects that could upset either of them. Gradually, Harry found it took too much energy to speak, and fell silent, listening to Lupin describe the local wildlife.
Lupin had been right, it was a long trek, though the way was mostly clear, through meadows and sparse groves of trees. By the time they stopped to rest and have a light lunch, his legs were already aching.
"It's all forest from here. We'll be out of the sun," Lupin told Harry as he helped him put his pack back on.
Harry, who had already taken off his jumper but still felt overheated, nodded gratefully.
They went on. They didn't speak anymore, both because Harry was tired and because, closer to their goal, he could focus on little but his own thoughts.
They followed overgrown paths and trails; sometimes Harry couldn't see anything but weeds, brush, and trees, but Lupin seemed to know where they were going. After several hours, the forest grew more sparse, and the path became wider and less unkempt, until finally it turned from packed dirt to cobblestone.
"This is it," Lupin said as they rounded the bend.
Huffing slightly, Harry caught up with him and followed his gaze down the other side of the hill.
The road from here on was broken and overgrown with weeds, as if for years no one had gone farther than the top of the hill where they now stood. At the end of it were two pillars, one broken and lying on the ground, the other leaning precariously over the road. Beyond he could see only a wild tangle of trees and brush.
"That's it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. He had expected something more substantial. This was supposed to have been a Wizard temple, after all.
"Do you want to rest a moment?" Lupin asked, looking him over. "Do you need water?"
"Thanks," Harry said, taking the canteen from him. "Sorry, I'm just not used to walking so much."
"Understandably. Most wizards rely far too much on magical means of transportation."
They sat down on a mossy stone in the shade of a large tree. Harry kicked off his boots, despite Lupin's warning that it would be hard to put them on again.
He avoided looking at Lupin as Lupin leaned back against a tree trunk and closed his eyes. It was easier to pretend they were on an excursion, just like the ones Lupin had taken him on during his sixth year as part of his Defense training. The Forbidden Forest was nowhere near as pretty as the woods they were walking through now. He preferred to focus on that, rather than what awaited at the end of their journey.
From where he sat he could see the tip of the marble pillar. It looked so close; perhaps another half-hour and they would reach it.
"Are you ready?" Lupin asked, and Harry realized Lupin had been watching him.
He nodded. "Sure."
His feet ached as he crammed them again into his too-tight boots, while Lupin waited, holding his pack for him.
It was easier walking downhill, though they had to step carefully between the cracks and the loose stones in the road. Soon they had passed the pillars, and Lupin led Harry between the thick growth of trees. There was a stone gateway, overgrown with vines and carved with symbols Harry didn't recognize.
Lupin passed his wand over the stones. "No wards," he said. "We can go in."
Harry followed him, looking around curiously.
If this had once been a temple, it was no longer recognizable as one. The walls had long since crumbled. Here and there broken stones looked like they might have been part of a larger structure, but the forest had done its best to reclaim the land humans had once cleared. They had to pick their way carefully through the ruins and around thorn bushes.
"What are we looking for?" Harry asked when it occurred to him that Lupin was leading him deeper into the structure.
"At the center of the temple was an altar. It was protected by strong wards, and should still be standing. It is the best location for our spell, though we will get along without it if we must."
Harry heard the sound of water, and quickened his pace. His canteen had been empty a long time.
"Is it safe to drink, do you think?" he asked when they parted a curtain of vines and saw a fountain, almost entirely intact, at the center of a clearing. The water gathering in the stone pool was clear and reflected the soft rays of the descending sun.
"It should be," Lupin said. He appeared more interested in a domed structure on the other side of the clearing. "Why don't you rest here while I see if this is what we're looking for?"
He walked away, disappearing inside the structure, leaving Harry alone in the clearing.
Harry sat down and ran his hand under the frigid water, watching the dust and sweat wash away. He leaned over the water and splashed some over his face. There was an instant relief from the heat and fatigue. He wished he could strip and get under the water.
Instead, he took out his wand and spelled away the grime coating his skin and clothes, kicked off his boots, and immersed his aching feet in the fountain, all the while thinking it was ridiculous to feel modest when in a short while Lupin would do a lot more than merely see him in the nude.
But then, Harry had never joined his friends skinny-dipping in the lake, either.
From behind him, Lupin coughed to get his attention.
Harry turned around. "I'm debating the wisdom of taking a dip. What do you think?"
Lupin looked uncomfortable. "Too cold, I would think. Runs from an underground spring."
Harry shrugged and opened his pack in search of clean socks. "I wasn't really going to do it."
Lupin cleared his throat. "I found what we need. The structure looks solid enough. Do you want to help me set up, or would you like to have something to eat first?"
Harry, who had been feeling hunger pangs for hours, suddenly realized he had lost his appetite. "I'm not hungry. Just tell me what we need to do."
"Come on," Lupin said, leading the way.
It was nearly as light inside the structure as outside. Though there were no windows, the roof had fallen in, leaving large gaps. Among the fragments of stone and the weeds on the floor was a large slab of marble. As it was the only thing not covered with copious amounts of dust and dried leaves, Harry supposed Lupin had cleared it, and that it had to be the altar they would be using. For some reason, the sight of it made him shiver.
Lupin opened his pack and began to take out candles. "Take these and begin setting them up. In a circle, if you can."
Harry mentally traced a rough circle around the altar and began setting the candles down, securing each in a crevice or between stones. He finished before Lupin, who was arranging small bowls around the circular room.
"What's that?"
"Spices. Incense."
Harry sat down on the altar, finding it cold. He shivered involuntarily.
"There's a piece of cloth in my pack. You can spread it over the stone," Lupin said, apparently having noticed.
Harry found it; it turned out to be a piece of coarse linen. Lupin came over to help him.
"So," Harry said when they finished. "What next?"
Lupin looked around the room. "That's it," he said reluctantly.
Harry stole a glance at him. "Should we just get this over with?"
"It's not going to get any easier."
"Right."
Neither of them moved.
"So," Harry said. "How does this work, anyway?"
Lupin reached into his robes and pulled out a scroll. "We just sign this, burn it on the pyre." He indicted a mound of what looked like small twigs by the far wall. "And then..." His voice trailed off as his eyes traveled over the altar.
"Should I light the candles?" Harry asked quickly, before the silence could stretch heavily again.
Lupin nodded. "Go ahead."
They moved in separate directions, Lupin lighting the contents of the bowls, causing thin wisps of smoke to curl upward toward the gaps in the roof, while Harry used his wand to light each of the candles, one at a time, though he could have lit all of them with a single spell. He suspected that Lupin, too, was stretching out the task.
"We sign here," Lupin said, holding up the scroll and unrolling it. "Just use your wand."
Harry glanced at the scroll, not reading, but catching a word here and there, before touching down the tip of his wand and setting his signature. Lupin did the same. Their names glowed for a moment, like molten silver, then blackened. Nothing else happened.
"Right," Lupin said, rolling up the scroll. He dropped it on top of the pyre. "Now the spell. I will do this part myself."
"Not together?" Harry asked, surprised. He expected a bonding ritual to involve both partners.
"The ritual took into account the possibility of a wizard marrying a Muggle or Squib, or a Muggleborn without good control over magic ability. Only one partner needs to work the spell."
Harry stood back and watched as Lupin began to chant, lit the pyre, and fanned the thick smoke slowly with his hands. The room appeared to grow dark, and he wasn't sure if it was the spell, or only the sun setting outside.
But it must have been the spell, because he could hear music, which came from nowhere and everywhere; it pulsed in the air itself. It was like nothing he had ever heard, and like nothing a human-made instrument could play.
The scroll caught on fire, the flame slowly climbing from one corner upward, until it was engulfed. It didn't burn; it stayed there, caught in the fire, with the flames dancing all around and the edges of the parchment charred black.
"Take off your clothes and lie down," Lupin said, his voice hardly audible over the eerie drum beat and the snapping of the twigs on the pyre.
Harry, who had taken an involuntary step backwards, began to fumble with the buttons of his shirt. Suddenly there were too many.
And yet, moments later, there he was, his clothes pooled around his feet where he had allowed them to drop. He was shivering, but not from cold, because the room had grown close and warm. Whether the spell or the fire was responsible, Harry didn't know.
He could feel the coldness of the marble slab right through the cloth as he lay down on his back. Comfort did not seem an option; he might as well have been lying on a bed of nails.
Lupin approached from the side. The flame of the many candles around the altar reflected in his eyes so that Harry could not read his expression. He had a charred twig in his hand.
"This won't hurt," he said, touching it down at Harry's collarbone.
It must have been warm, straight from the fire, but to Harry it felt like ice. He looked down, and saw that Lupin was drawing a design on his skin.
Looking closer, he realized they were symbols. He thought he recognized them from somewhere, but could not think where he could have seen them before. Perhaps a book, or a carving somewhere in the Hogwarts castle.
Like his name on the scroll, these symbols glowed before turning dark and melting into his skin, leaving only thin lines visible.
Finished with Harry, Lupin drew the same symbols on his own wrists, then cast the twig back into the fire. Sparks flew upward toward the sky.
He turned back, unbuttoned the clasp on the front of his robes, and slipped out of them. Folded them carefully, set them aside; all without looking at Harry.
From his position, Harry saw Lupin only from the waist up. He felt exposed, lying there like a sacrifice to the gods.
A small bottle appeared in Lupin's hand; he uncorked it and set it down. Finally he looked up, meeting Harry's eyes briefly. "Move closer to the edge, Harry. This thing wasn't built for comfort, was it?"
Harry, with only a vague understanding of proper positions for sex, moved down, judging the right distance by Lupin's expression. He drew up his knees to keep his legs from dangling over the side. The edge of the slab dug into his hips.
"All right," Lupin murmured. His eyes flicked to Harry's face. "Are you ready?"
Harry nodded. He wasn't, but where was the point in saying so?
Lupin drew a deep breath, and placed his hand on Harry's abdomen. It felt warm.
Harry lay absolutely still while Lupin touched him, his hand slowly traveling lower. It didn't feel any different from touching himself, there was just the oddity of having someone else do it, and the vague discomfort of having that someone be Lupin.
It elicited the same response, too, which for some reason added to his discomfort. He found he had to keep his attention on his facial expression, to keep it neutral. It would have been an impossible task to try to look like he was enjoying himself, and anyway he didn't suppose Lupin expected him to.
Lupin's hand slipped lower. Harry, who had spent plenty of time imagining what it would feel like to have someone touch him there, forgot for the moment where he was and why, lost in the new sensations.
Lupin looked up again, and Harry tried to nod encouragingly. Lupin's fingertips continued to massage his opening, only now his fingers were slippery with oil.
He knew what came next, of course. He would have been mad not to, despite there having been so few other boys at Hogwarts who shared his preference. He'd heard enough, read enough, imagined enough...
And was still completely unprepared when Lupin pushed one finger slowly inside him.
He forced himself to lie still; after all, it didn't hurt. It just felt odd. Out of place. He also had no idea what Lupin was doing. Sex was simple; he had a basic understanding of how it was supposed to go, but Lupin wasn't sticking to Harry's mental script.
A second finger was added, and he must have squirmed, or made some other movement that caught Lupin's attention.
"Is this uncomfortable?" Lupin asked, stilling his hand.
"It's fine," Harry said, though that was only partially true now; there was a vague feeling of straining muscle, threatening to turn to pain. "What are you doing?"
"Just getting you ready," Lupin said, giving him an odd look.
Harry must have looked confused, because Lupin frowned. "I do recall boys your age are rather impatient, but surely..." His voice trailed off and he looked more closely at Harry, his frown deepening. "Harry, this isn't your first time?"
Harry intended to lie, but he hesitated just a moment too long.
Lupin's frown turned into dismay. "Well," he said, shaking his head, "there's nothing we can do now, is there?"
"No."
When Lupin moved the fingers inside him again, Harry thought he felt his hand trembling slightly.
He noticed Lupin look worriedly toward the pyre, though it still burned as brightly as before. He supposed there was a time limit for sealing the deal.
"We should just... do it," he said, trying to look like he meant it.
Lupin frowned, but he withdrew his fingers, leaving Harry with an odd, empty sensation inside. "I suppose it would be best to just do this quickly," he said in a strangely hollow tone. He looked up, looking apologetic. "I did hope this wouldn't be too unpleasant. If we had more time..."
"We don't," Harry said.
"Right," Lupin said, lowering his head and picking up the bottle again. "Best do this quickly then. No sense drawing it out."
The next thing Harry felt was something far larger than Lupin's fingers trying to push its way inside him.
He couldn't decide if it hurt. It was unpleasant, but the exact nature of the discomfort was hard to place.
"Try to relax," Lupin suggested. Maybe it seemed like a simple thing to him.
Harry tried. He wasn't sure if it was working, but in the end it didn't matter, because Lupin's hands found a firm hold on his hips and then he pushed forward hard.
It hurt when it popped inside; hurt like being stabbed. He gritted his teeth and resisted the instinct to shut his smarting eyes tightly against the pain.
After a few moments, the pain eased. Lupin pushed in deeper, and Harry expected more pain, but aside from a feeling of being impossibly stretched, there was none.
When Lupin started to move, Harry didn't ask himself if he liked it; it was impossible to tell. When Lupin pushed in there was a burst of pleasure somewhere inside, and when he pulled out it was like sandpaper on sore skin. It never hurt again after the first time, but neither did he find the experience enjoyable. Whatever he felt, it wasn't anything he would go bragging about, like some of his dorm mates had about their escapades. He wondered if they had lied, all those times, the same way some boys had bragged about nonexistent conquests. Maybe everyone expected sex to be good, and when it wasn't, felt they were the only ones who thought so, and chose instead to perpetuate the myth.
He studied Lupin. It was safe to do so, because Lupin's eyes never strayed from the wall above Harry's head. There was no discernible expression on his face.
But he must have enjoyed it, in the end, because he bit his lower lip and closed his eyes as he came. Lupin didn't withdraw, and Harry felt the hot spurts inside him. If he hadn't, he wouldn't have associated Lupin's expression with orgasm; it looked more like he was trying to maintain control than losing it.
Lupin opened his eyes and stared down at Harry for a long moment, as if seeing him for the first time. His face was slightly flushed, an the short hair at his temples glistened with sweat.
He withdrew. It didn't hurt; he was no longer hard, but it left Harry sore and feeling as though parts of him, inside, had been roughly rearranged.
They both looked toward the pyre at the same time, though Harry had forgotten about it until that very moment. Maybe they both needed someplace else to turn their eyes.
The fire was burning lower than before. The scroll was charring, turning brown and wrinkling along the edges.
Lupin turned back, his eyes traveling over Harry's prone body.
He fisted Harry's erection -- Harry hadn't even realized he was still hard. His hand was rough, calloused, and rasped over Harry's sensitive skin despite the generous application of oil. Harry supposed he didn't respond quickly enough to Lupin's touch, because after a few minutes he leaned down to take it in his mouth instead.
This, at least, was familiar territory for Harry. Having received a clumsy blowjob in the showers once, it was the sex act he was most familiar with. He relaxed into it.
He couldn't say afterwards if it was a great orgasm or even a good orgasm. He came; that was enough for their purpose, and then Lupin wiped him clean with a piece of cloth and left him lying on the altar. Harry dressed to the sound of Lupin chanting softly over the dying flames. When Harry finally forced himself to look, he saw that Lupin had pulled on his robes.
The candles had burned low, and some were burning out. The sun had set, and there was nothing to see but darkness outside. Through the holes in the roof he could see stars, and the smoke curling toward them from the pyre.
With a hiss, the fire died. Harry turned toward the sound, and saw Lupin rising, brushing dust and ash from the hem of his robes. He walked past Harry without looking at him. "We should have something to eat."
Harry followed him outside, and watched silently while Lupin started a fire and laid out the last of their food.
There were none of the usual night sounds, as if birds and animals didn't come near the place. The only sound was the crackling of the fire.
"How do we know it worked?" Harry's own voice startled him, too loud in the stillness.
Lupin poked at the fire and shrugged. "You always know when a spell you're working fails."
Harry signed. He wished Lupin would look at him.
"That wasn't how it's supposed to be, you know," Lupin said suddenly, startling Harry again.
"What?"
"Sex. It isn't supposed to be like that."
"Oh," was all Harry could think to say.
"I'm sorry. It would have been different if you were ready, and with someone you loved."
"I'm glad it was you," Harry said. 'And not Snape,' he added silently. 'I would have died.'
Lupin shook his head and stood up. "I'll pack our things. Are you ready to leave?"
"Yes," Harry said gratefully. He wanted to get back to Hogwarts, take a long bath, scrub himself clean, and crawl into his own comfortable bed. His back still ached from lying on the hard stone.
He watched Lupin disappear inside the domed structure.
He sighed deeply. The air smelled like smoke and the bitter spices Lupin had burned. The smell clung to Harry's clothing and hair.
Lupin returned momentarily. "Are you up to Apparating?"
Harry nodded, though there did not seem to be much choice; he certainly wasn't up to walking back the same way they came.
"Take my hand. We want to end up in the same place."
Harry still missed his target sometimes, though usually only by a few yards.
They Apparated together. The familiar lights of Hogsmeade filled Harry with inexplicable relief.
"I'll take your pack," Lupin offered. "We still have a long walk ahead."
"Thanks," Harry said, shaking his head. "But I've got it."
They didn't speak. There were so many things Harry wanted to say, but Lupin's silent presence by his side froze the words on his tongue.
They rounded the bend, and the castle came into view. Though during summer few rooms were used, every window was lit.
"Looks like someone's waiting up for us," Harry commented. He wished no one had. He didn't want to see anyone.
Lupin sniffed. Harry decided he wasn't thrilled at the prospect of reporting to Dumbledore either.
"I don't regret it, you know," Harry said suddenly, surprising himself. He hadn't planned on saying it, but the words slipped out. "I still think..."
Lupin looked at him, his expression unreadable.
Harry took a deep breath. "I still think this could work. Between us."
Lupin shook his head and said nothing.
The silence was even more uncomfortable from then on.
If anyone had been waiting for them, they didn't show themselves.
"You should go to bed, Harry," Lupin said in the Entrance Hall. "You must be tired."
Harry took a few steps up the staircase. "Are you sure he won't want to see both of us?"
"If he does, it can wait till morning. Go on."
Harry went. His exhaustion was the only thing keeping him from running.
In the dorm room, he fell into bed without bathing or even undressing. He was asleep, curled up into a fetal position, almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Somewhere in the night, he was vaguely aware of someone coming in to pull off his boots and cover him with a blanket. He woke up tangled in it.
After a shower, when he had finally rid himself of the lingering stench of spices and sweat, Harry made his way downstairs. He supposed there was a staff meeting, because he met no one on the way.
He felt strange. Light, like a weight had lifted. Maybe it had; he no longer had anything looming over him. The worst was over, and -- he admitted now -- it had not been worse than he had imagined it would be. Not even the thought of facing Lupin filled him with a great deal of apprehension.
In the Great Hall, the table was set. Harry sat down, and instantly a platter of food appeared.
He didn't know if he should wait. He had never seen the Great Hall empty at meal times, and felt odd sitting there alone. Finally, because he was hungry and the food was getting cold, he dug in.
He was already halfway through when Lupin came in.
"Well, here it is," Lupin said, tossing the newspaper down on the table. "In black and white. 'Werewolf Weds Boy Who Lived.' Catchy, I admit."
Harry picked up the paper and scanned the front page. He wasn't even surprised by how quickly they had caught the story. His wedding was apparently the only news. Underneath the headline were two pictures.
Lupin looked askance at him as Harry snickered.
"I'm sorry," Harry said. "No, it isn't funny, really."
"I've seen them," Lupin said, sniffing contemptuously as Harry turned the paper toward him.
"I look about twelve here. I think this is the same one they used in that article about me being a Parselmouth."
Lupin growled into a glass of pumpkin juice.
"And you," Harry continued, examining the second picture, "look like you just ate someone's pet."
"Perhaps he had," Snape's voice said from behind them.
They both turned around to look at him.
"Is there something you want, Severus?" Lupin asked after clearing his throat. He managed to sound quite nearly civil. "We are trying to have a peaceful breakfast. Perhaps our last."
Snape assumed an expression of patronizing pity. "I'm sorry to tell you then, that you will not be able to finish it. There's a crowd outside, and Dumbledore has no choice but to let them in. I don't think you have a lot of time."
Lupin rose, ignoring Snape's smirk. "Thank you, Severus. Come on, Harry, we better move."
Harry followed Lupin to the antechamber.
"I'll go first," Lupin said, taking a handful of the green powder.
"Er... where are we going?" Harry asked, realizing suddenly that he did not know anything about Lupin's home, aside from the fact that he had one.
"Just repeat what I say." There was a flash of smoke as Lupin threw down the powder. "Number 9, Patamon."
He vanished, and Harry quickly stepped into his place. Behind him, he could hear the double doors of the Great Hall slam against the walls as they were thrown open.
"Number 9, Patamon."
He landed hard.
"All right?" Lupin asked, pulling him up off the floor.
"I hate flooing," Harry muttered, but already he was looking around curiously, his bruised knees forgotten.
It wasn't a large house; Harry thought the whole thing might have comfortably fit into the Dursleys' front room. The furniture was shabby, and the fireplace through which they had come was blackened with what appeared to be years of soot and grime. Above it, on the mantle, was a row of pictures. Muggle, not Wizard. It was so strange to see immobile faces looking back at him that for a moment Harry did not register that it was Sirius and himself he was looking at. A familiar ache filled him, as strong as ever.
Lupin caught him staring.
"I took these over the year he stayed here," he said, motioning to three frames. "And this one... I liberated it from a reporter's camera earlier this year."
Harry picked it up and studied it. "Why doesn't it move? Any of them?"
"I prefer them this way," Lupin said. "This way when I look at them I have to use my own memory to remember. Moving pictures take that away from you by showing everything there was to see in that moment. A memory is far more powerful."
Harry replaced the frame.
"There aren't any of you. Or the two of you together." Then he noticed the two empty spaces at the other end of the mantle. "You shouldn't have taken them down."
Lupin nodded, turning away. "I will put them back, if you feel comfortable with that."
"Of course I do," Harry said. He stepped closer, laying his hand gently on Lupin's shoulder.
Lupin turned around. Harry's arm slipped around him. They were so close, Harry felt Lupin's warm breath against his forehead.
"I would never try to replace him," Harry said. "I know I couldn't."
"You don't have to, Harry," Lupin said. He cleared his throat and stepped away, shaking Harry's hand from his shoulder in the process. "I like you for who you are."
"But you don't want me," Harry said flatly.
Lupin turned toward him, frowning. "I don't know what you mean." Then, before Harry could reply, he turned away again. "You deserve a normal life, Harry."
"And if I want a life with you? Is that impossible?"
He had to follow Lupin to the kitchen. He almost gave up on receiving any answer as Lupin crouched down to light the wood stove. The silence between them grew heavy until Harry couldn't stand it any longer.
"Can I help with anything?" he asked as Lupin filled a kettle and put it on the fire.
"You can wipe down the table and set it. The rags are by the sink."
As Harry cleaned, he was keenly aware of Lupin's gaze on him, but he didn't turn to meet it. Lupin would only turn away again.
The table was set, and Lupin poured two cups of tea and opened a box of biscuits.
"It isn't much. I hope you managed to get something in you before we had to run out."
Harry nodded. "It's fine. I was almost finished by the time you came in."
They sat down.
"Sirius didn't like tea much," Lupin said as Harry accepted more. "But he would sit with me every afternoon."
"I'm not him. I know that," Harry said. He looked down into the cup, because it was easier than looking into Lupin's eyes.
"I didn't ask you to try to be."
Harry didn't say anything.
"I can never care for anyone the way I cared for him. It isn't fair to you, for you to feel you have to compete when you could never..."
"Never what?" Harry asked when Lupin didn't finish. "I don't want to compete against him. Of course you couldn't feel the same way about me. I just thought..."
Lupin finally met his eyes. "It isn't fair to you," he repeated. "I'm not sure I have anything left to give."
Harry felt his throat tighten. He forced himself not to look away. "Does that mean your feelings haven't changed, the way you thought they would?"
Lupin looked grim and didn't answer.
"We can try," Harry said. "Can't we? What do we have to lose?"
Lupin gathered up the empty dishes and took them to the sink, turning his back to Harry.
Harry watched him for a moment. He didn't know what he had expected.
Lupin turned on the water and began to rinse a cup. Unable to sit still any longer, Harry joined him, and Lupin moved over to make room. There was an extra dishrag on a hook above the sink. After years living with the Dursleys, helping came naturally to Harry.
"Thanks," Lupin said.
Harry glanced at him. Maybe Lupin just needed some time to get used to him.
"Do you think Dumbledore will handle the press?"
Lupin reached for another cup. "I'm sure he will. I suppose he will contact us when it's safe to go back." He hesitated before adding, "It might be a few days."
"What do we do until then?"
Lupin wiped the last saucer dry and placed it in the cabinet. "I don't know. I could show you around, if you like. There's not much to see..."
"I'd like that," Harry said quickly.
Lupin smiled slowly. "Come on then."
Harry dried off his hands and followed Lupin out.
Afterword
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