Chapter 2: Professor R.J. Lupin
Harry woke to pain.
His head was pounding with every beat of his heart, sickening jolts of agony spiking across his skull. The waves of intense emotion were gone, but they'd left him exhausted, drained, spent.
He was so tired.
"Harry, open your eyes."
Harry didn't recognize the voice. It was deep and melodic, unfamiliar yet somehow comforting. He felt an inexplicable urge to listen to that voice, to trust it.
He forced his eyelids open, straining against the heaviness weighing them down.
He was on the floor of the compartment, something soft cushioning his head.
"Are you alright, Harry?"
Harry turned his head, recognizing the other occupant of the compartment: Professor R.J. Lupin. At least, Harry was fairly sure that's what Hermione had said his name was.
The man was kneeling next to him, kind face lined with concern. Harry could feel the worry rolling off him, so intense it left him reeling.
Harry needed to reassure him. He didn't want anyone to worry about him.
He forced himself to sit up, holding back a grimace as his head protested the sudden movement.
"I'm okay," he said, hating the shake in his voice.
Professor Lupin didn't seem entirely convinced, but Harry could feel the man's worry ease nonetheless.
He looked around, noticing Ron and Hermione staring at him from their seats, faces pale. He forced himself to stand, legs shaking terribly. He ignored the tremors, moving to his seat and settling back down. Professor Lupin sat beside him, watching Harry with guarded eyes, seeming to expect him to collapse again.
Harry shifted uncomfortably under their worried gazes.
"What happened?" he asked, unable to bear the tense silence.
He couldn't remember anything other than terrible pain, horrified screaming, and blackness.
"Dementors boarded the train," Professor Lupin said, frowning.
"Demen...what?"
"They guard Azkaban, Harry," Ron cut in.
He shuddered, face growing even paler.
"They're really horrible. Dad says they suck all the happiness from the world."
Professor Lupin nodded solemnly.
"Your father is right. Dementors feed off our happiness, drawing out our good memories to leave us with nothing but our darkest fears. They are truly awful creatures."
That would explain the terrible rush of negative emotion. Harry must have been feeling the fear and despair of nearly everyone on the train. No wonder he'd passed out.
"But...why were they here?" Harry asked.
Professor Lupin sighed.
"They were searching for Sirius Black."
At the name, Harry felt a sudden wave of despair from the man, anguish crashing over him so strongly that he almost passed out again. Harry faltered, putting a hand to his aching head as the emotion assaulted him.
Merlin, it hurt.
Professor Lupin seemed to notice his distress, despair quickly turning back to concern. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a bar of chocolate. He snapped off a piece and held it out to Harry.
"Here, eat this. It'll help with the effects of the Dementors."
Harry took the chocolate gratefully, watching as Professor Lupin stood, brushing off his robes.
"Unfortunately, I must go have a word with the driver. I will return as soon as I can. And Harry..."
The professor turned back to him, eyes swimming with something Harry couldn't quite recognize.
"Make sure you eat that chocolate."
With that, he swept from the room, a strange sense of nostalgia trailing after him like smoke.
"You heard him," Hermione said firmly.
"Eat the chocolate."
Harry complied quickly, knowing better than to cross Hermione.
The chocolate helped immediately, heat spreading through his blood, warming his bones.
Unfortunately, it did nothing for the ache in his head.
The overload of emotion seemed to have sharpened his ability to feel, making every emotion louder, more painful. He could feel Ron and Hermione's emotions even more strongly than his own, foreign feelings crushing him slowly.
"Are you feeling alright, Harry?" Hermione asked, watching him closely.
"I'm fine."
Harry didn't want to have this conversation right now.
"How long was I unconscious?" he asked, trying to change the subject.
"Nearly ten minutes," Hermione said quietly.
"It was really scary, mate," Ron said, face still unnaturally pale.
"You were totally unresponsive. I thought for a moment..."
He trailed off.
Harry could feel Ron's terror, wincing at its intensity.
Hermione noticed his reaction, leaning forward, eyes bright as she watched him.
"What's really going on, Harry? Even Professor Lupin seemed shaken by your reaction to the Dementors. This can't be normal. You're clearly still in pain. Tell us what's really going on."
Hermione's voice was edged with steel, warning against any attempts at lying.
Harry sighed, glancing at the door. Finding no one, he drew in a deep breath, steeling himself for the truth he was about to reveal.
"I, well, something weird's been happening to me..."
He paused, running a hand through his already disastrously messy hair.
"About a month ago, I started feeling emotions. Other people's emotions."
"Really?" Ron asked, staring hard at Harry.
"You can sense what other people are feeling?"
Harry nodded, watching as shock and amazement spread across Ron's face.
"You must be an Empath," he whispered in awe.
"A what?" Harry asked.
He'd never heard that term before.
"It's a Wizard that can sense other people's emotions, Harry," Hermione said gently.
"I read about them in the Restricted Section last year. They're really rare..."
"That's an understatement!" Ron exclaimed.
"They're practically legend! The last one was alive nearly a century ago. But..."
Ron stopped, excitement falling off his face.
"They're also..."
He stumbled over the words, glancing uncertainly at Hermione.
"They have a lot of problems, Harry," Hermione said.
"Not all of them have been able to control their power, and those that have..."
"are incredibly dangerous," Ron said gravely.
"If an Empath can master their powers, they can actually CONTROL the emotions of others, use their feelings as a weapon. It's..."
Harry stared at him in horror.
"I wouldn't...I mean...I would never..."
"We know that, Harry," Hermione soothed.
"But no one else does."
Ron nodded, leaning forward.
"We need to keep this quiet. People don't trust Empaths. The Ministry might want to monitor you, experiment on you..."
Ron grimaced.
"You can't tell anyone. We should keep this between the three of us."
"What about Dumbledore? Shouldn't we tell him?"
Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance, seemingly unsure of what to say.
It was Hermione who finally broke the silence, drawing in a deep breath before beginning to speak.
"I don't know, Harry. Dumbledore is...well..."
"We're not sure he has your best interests at heart."
Harry felt his heart skip a beat.
"What do you mean?"
Dumbledore had always been so kind to him.
"He's never done anything bad to me."
Hermione nodded in agreement.
"No, he hasn't. But, Harry..."
She leaned forward, grabbing one of his hands.
"He's let bad things happen to you. I think he wanted you to go after the Philosopher's Stone in our First Year. I think he wanted you to find out about it. And last year, I don't know..."
She squeezed his hand tightly.
"I've been thinking about this a lot lately, going through our time at Hogwarts. I noticed some patterns. You're always at the center of danger, at the center of everything. And you shouldn't be. I honestly don't think Dumbledore wants to hurt you, but I also think that he wants you involved in things you shouldn't be involved in. I just...I don't trust him not to use this information to test you further."
Harry pulled his hand away, shaking his head.
"But Dumbledore is..."
"Brilliant? Good? Kind?"
Hermione sighed, emotions flickering between concern and conviction.
"Harry, he's a very political man. I've read about him, you know. He's a major player in the Wizarding World. He led the war effort against You-Know-Who. He's far more than a simple Headmaster. Ron and I were talking, and we think..."
She trailed off, glancing nervously at Ron.
"We think he intends for you to do something."
Harry stared at them.
"Intends for me to do what?"
Hermione's emotions were a terrible whirlwind, apprehension and worry swirling around her.
"Well, we know that You-Know-Who's not dead. You defeated him before, and we think..."
"You think he wants me to do it again," Harry breathed, realization dawning.
"Yes," Ron said, nodding.
"That's exactly what we think."
Harry felt his heart sink. He didn't want to have to defeat Voldemort again. He didn't want to fight him again.
"It's alright, Harry. We're not going to let you be forced into anything. This is your life. No one gets to make your choices for you. Not even Dumbledore."
Harry grinned up at Ron, comforted by the determination rolling off his friend.
"Thanks," he whispered.
"Of course, mate," Ron said.
"We're not going to let you get hurt. Not anymore. The last two years have been..."
He smiled.
"A bit mad."
Hermione giggled.
"That's putting it mildly."
Harry felt a smile break out on his face as well.
"We want to try having a normal year for a change. No more trolls."
"Or three-headed dogs."
"Or giant chess games."
"Or Basilisks," Harry finished, grinning wider.
Ron grinned back.
"We're done getting ourselves involved in dangerous things. It seemed so exciting, but last year..."
Ron looked a bit haunted, eyes clouding over.
"You nearly died. Hermione nearly died. Ginny nearly died. It's...I don't want that to happen again."
Ron looked down, twisting his hands together.
"It won't happen again," Hermione agreed, nudging Ron with her elbow.
Ron nodded, looking at Harry with pure determination in his eyes.
"Even your little emotional problem isn't going to stop us. We'll figure out how to deal with it, Harry. Hermione can do research..."
"Absolutely!" Hermione agreed.
"I'll start tonight."
"Hermione..."
"And I'll just try to feel as little as possible so that I don't bother you," Ron added, winking.
"We can just be boring this year."
Harry shook his head, wishing he didn't have to dash their hopes.
"Actually..."
He filled them in on Sirius Black, wincing as their emotions crashed into him.
After he finished speaking, silence fell over the group,
"We'll get through this, Harry," Hermione said, crossing the compartment to sit beside him.
"The three of us, we can get through anything."
"I know," he said, meaning it.
"I know."
The rest of the ride was uneventful. Harry spent most of the time trying to stop the throbbing in his head, pressing his aching forehead against the cool glass of the window.
His friends kept their voices low, but Harry could feel their worry.
It hurt.
He didn't know how much longer he could live like this. Everything felt like too much. How could he possibly deal with classes if he couldn't even handle the emotions of his two best friends?
He would just have to hope that Ron and Hermione could figure out how to help him. Otherwise...
Harry had a fairly good idea of what happened to Empaths who couldn't control their powers. He imagined that they probably went mad.
It only made sense.
The constant swirling emotions and the terrible pain were enough to drive anyone into insanity. Harry just hoped he could find a way to manage it before things got to that point.
He made a promise to himself in that moment: if he couldn't control the ability by Christmas, he would go to a Professor.
Dumbledore finding out couldn't possibly be worse than losing his sanity.
Harry was pulled from his thoughts as the compartment door slid open, revealing Professor Lupin. The man stood on the threshold for several seconds, examining Harry with keen eyes, scanning him carefully.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked, concern flickering around him.
Harry nodded, offering a smile.
"Yes, professor. The chocolate really helped."
"Excellent!"
Professor Lupin smiled at him, and Harry smiled wider in return, warmed by the man's friendliness. He liked Professor Lupin. There was something about him that felt...safe.
"I believe we'll be arriving in just a few moments," Professor Lupin said, moving to take his tattered suitcase down from the overhead luggage rack.
Harry wondered why the man was taking his luggage. Their trunks usually just showed up at the castle, appearing magically at the foot of each bed. Maybe he just liked to keep his belongings close. Harry could understand that. From the look of the man's clothing, he wasn't the wealthiest. Harry knew all too well that when you didn't have much, it was tempting to keep what little you did have close, protecting it, cherishing it.
Professor Lupin moved to leave the compartment, pausing by the door.
"Harry, I was wondering if you would come to my office after the feast. I would like to speak to you."
Harry nodded, fighting his rising nerves.
What could the professor possibly want to talk to him about? Was he in trouble already?
The man chuckled, clearly amused by Harry's nervousness.
"It's nothing bad, Harry. I just want to discuss what happened with the Dementors. It's nothing to worry about, alright?"
Harry nodded again, still unable to quash the rising anxiety.
He liked Professor Lupin, but he didn't like being alone with adults. Especially not men. They reminded him too much of Uncle Vernon, looming over him, deep voices liable to begin yelling at any moment.
Besides, what if Professor Lupin figured out his secret? What if he told Dumbledore? What if he told the Ministry?
Before Harry could spiral any further into panic, the train came to a stop, the lights of Hogwarts flickering just outside the windows. Harry turned his gaze toward the castle, drawn to it, mesmerized by the gleaming towers and shimmering stone. He felt his heart swell, peace replacing his anxiety.
He was home.
Harry followed the others from the compartment, waving goodbye to Professor Lupin as he went to help shepherd the First Years to the boats.
Harry exited the train, closing his eyes against the tide of emotion that rose up as soon as his feet hit the platform. It was excitement and nerves, anticipation and fear. It was overwhelming, making his head spin and causing him to stumble into Ron. His friend reached out an arm to support him, steering him away from the crowd and into a carriage.
Once inside, Harry put his head in his hands, trying to drive away the onslaught of emotions.
"How am I supposed to do this?" he croaked, hopelessness beginning to flood his chest.
"It hurts so much."
He felt hands on his, pulling his fingers gently away from his face.
"You can do this, Harry," Hermione said.
"You just need to focus on blocking it out."
"I don't know how!" Harry exclaimed, frustration getting the best of him.
The emotions were tearing at him, eating at him, destroying him.
"It keeps getting worse, and I have no idea what to do, Hermione. I don't know what to do."
Everything felt like too much, emotions rushing at him, panic rising up inside him. The walls were closing in, space constricting around him, waves of foreign feelings drowning him slowly.
It was all too much.
He was feeling too much.
Hermione squeezed his hands, grounding him, pulling him away from the precipice of panic.
"Harry, you're okay."
Her emotions wrapped around him like a cloak: concern and care, love and friendship.
"Just focus on breathing, okay?"
Harry tried, listening to the sound of the air in his lungs, feeling the way his ribs expanded.
"Good," Hermione said.
"When the emotion becomes too much. Focus on your breaths. Count them."
Harry did, counting slowly, deliberately, carefully.
By the time he got to 50, Harry found that the emotions had dulled, fading to the back of his head, whispers in the silence of his mind.
He opened his eyes, overwhelmed with gratitude for Hermione.
"Thank you," he said, voice breaking slightly on the words.
"Don't mention it," she said, smiling easily at him.
"You can do this, Harry. You are more than capable of controlling this ability. We just need to figure out what works for you. We'll help you figure it out."
Harry just hoped they could figure it out before he lost his mind.
As the carriages arrived at the school, Harry took a deep breath, trying to ground himself. He followed Ron and Hermione into the Entrance Hall, using all his energy to focus on his breathing rather than on the buzzing cloud of emotions threatening to stifle him.
He was so lost in his attempt to control his ability that he didn't notice Professor McGonagall until she was right in front of him.
"Potter," she snapped, finally drawing Harry out of his head.
"Are you quite alright? I've called your name three times."
Harry looked up at her, trying to act natural.
"Sorry, Professor. I was just...um...thinking."
She raised an eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed. Harry couldn't help but agree with her. That hadn't been at all convincing.
"Well, now that I have your attention, Potter, Granger, please follow me to my office."
"Why?" Harry asked.
"I will explain when we get there. Now, follow me."
Harry did, awkwardly trailing behind her as she strode along the corridors. Hermione walked beside him, sending worried glances at him as they went.
When they made it to Professor McGonagall's office, she ushered them inside, gesturing for them to take the two seats in front of her desk.
"Potter," she started, leaning across her desk, examining him sharply over the rim of her glasses.
"Professor Lupin sent word that you had a bad reaction to the Dementors. Are you feeling better?"
"Yes, professor," he said, cheeks heating with embarrassment.
No one else had passed out. No one else had caused such a scene.
He was so weak.
"Are you quite sure? You don't look at all well."
Harry shifted awkwardly, knowing he would need to lie again.
"I was ill this summer, Professor."
She narrowed her eyes at him, frowning.
"And you are recovered?"
He nodded quickly, painting on a false smile.
"Yes, professor."
She eyed him for a moment, emotions flickering like electricity, sparks of suspicion glimmering around her.
She suspected something.
Harry felt his body freeze, blood running cold in his veins. He couldn't let her find out. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had made that abundantly clear. He needed to fix this. Quickly.
"I'm really alright, Professor," he said, smiling at her, trying to appear genuine.
"I promise."
He felt a twinge of guilt and shame at the lie but pushed it down, shoving it into the back of his head. He needed to do this. He didn't have a choice.
He felt her emotions shift, suspicion fading away.
"Alright, then," she said.
"Now, Ms. Granger, we need to discuss your schedule for the coming year. Potter, you can leave..."
"Actually, professor," Hermione interrupted.
"I've decided to stick to just two subjects: Arithmancy and Ancient Runes."
Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow.
"Is that right?"
"Yes, Professor," Hermione confirmed.
"And Harry and Ron will be joining me," she added, flashing a smile at Harry.
Professor McGonagall nodded, jotting something down on a piece of parchment.
"I would expect no less. I'll change your schedules."
She frowned for a moment, glancing up at the pair of them.
"I'm afraid Hagrid will be a bit disappointed."
Harry stared at her, confused.
"Why?"
She leaned back in her chair, regarding Harry closely.
"He's the new Care of Magical Creatures teacher."
Harry gaped at her.
"He is?"
Her lips twitched slightly at his reaction, amusement glittering in her eyes.
"Indeed."
Harry twisted his hands in his lap. He hadn't known that Hagrid was teaching. If he had, he never would've planned to drop Care of Magical Creatures. He would never abandon Hagrid like that.
"Professor..." Harry started.
"You wish to take Creatures as well?" she asked, already pulling the parchment back toward her.
Harry nodded.
"Very well," she said, rolling her eyes.
"You're in luck, Potter. Creatures doesn't conflict with any of your other subjects."
Professor McGonagall turned back to Hermione.
"What about the rest of your merry band. Will you be joining Mr. Potter?"
"Yes, Professor," Hermione said quietly, blushing at the nickname.
Professor McGonagall scribbled something on her parchment before standing, beckoning them to follow her out of the room.
"The First Years should be arriving soon. I suggest you go find Weasley before he gets himself into trouble."
As it turned out, Harry and Hermione were already too late to stop Ron from getting into trouble. He'd apparently gotten into a shouting match with Malfoy, prompting Snape to take 20 points from Gryffindor.
"He was making fun of you, mate!" Ron exclaimed indignantly.
"It was bang out of order. Just because he didn't pass out..."
"Ronald..." Hermione warned, glancing at Harry.
"Maybe stop bringing it up."
Ron stopped speaking.
"Oh. Sorry."
"It's alright," Harry said quietly.
"I just...I'd rather talk about something else. Something happy."
He needed a distraction.
Since entering the Great Hall, his headache had grown to a terrible pitch, pain nearly blinding him. Being around this many people was torture.
Harry returned to focusing on his breathing, listening as Ron and Hermione discussed Hagrid's new position.
He kept counting all the way through the sorting, barely paying attention to the newest Gryffindor students. He just kept counting, drowning out the terrible flood of emotions with an endless string of numbers. The only thing that did draw his notice was the way Professor Snape kept looking at Professor Lupin, eyes glittering with unadulterated hatred.
For some reason, it made Harry like Professor Lupin all the more.
Despite the counting, Harry barely made it through the feast, struggling to ignore the pain pounding just behind his eyes. By the time Dumbledore dismissed them, Harry wanted nothing more than to sleep forever, hidden away from the world, protected from the emotions that were trying to tear his mind into jagged pieces.
He parted ways with Ron and Hermione, leaving them to head to the library while he went to the Defense office. He still couldn't quite believe that Ron was willingly going to the library on the first night of term. His friends really were amazing.
Once he was away from the crowds, Harry paused, leaning his head against the wall, basking in the silence. He was alone, emotions gone, head finally clear. He took a deep breath, trying to center himself.
He was strangely nervous about this conversation with Professor Lupin. He didn't want to talk about what'd happened on the train, didn't know how to explain his collapse without revealing that he was an Empath.
He pushed down the anxiety and continued his journey to the Defense office, raising his fist to knock gently on the door.
"Come in."
Harry slipped quietly into the room, taking in the simple decor and cozy atmosphere.
Professor Lupin was standing by a large bookshelf, a huge number of books balanced in his arms. Harry moved over to him, grabbing one of the books just before it fell to the ground.
"Thank you, Harry," Professor Lupin said, setting the books haphazardly on the shelf and reaching out to take the one Harry had caught.
"I'll have to organize this later."
The man moved over to his desk, gesturing for Harry to join him. There were two steaming mugs sitting on the desk, filled to the brim with what looked to be hot chocolate.
"I thought you might need some more chocolate," Professor Lupin said in explanation, pushing one of the mugs toward Harry.
"Dementors are nasty creatures."
Harry accepted the mug, relishing the heat that warmed his fingers.
"I have something to confess to you, Harry," Professor Lupin said quietly.
Harry looked up at him, shocked by the sudden air of sadness flickering about the room.
"I did not ask you here to discuss Dementors."
Harry watched as the man ran a hand through his hair, pale scars standing out sharply against his skin.
"I...well, there's something I want to tell you."
Harry clutched his mug tighter, overwhelmed by the conflicted emotions of the man.
"I knew your parents."
Professor Lupin said it quickly, throwing it at Harry's feet like it was a bomb about to go off.
"You did?"
Professor Lupin nodded, shadows twisting in his eyes, melancholy descending around them.
"Yes. I knew them very well. Your father was my best friend, practically my brother. And your mother was the best person I've ever known."
Harry felt as if he'd been punched. This man had been his father's best friend. This man could tell him all the things he'd always wanted to know.
"Can you tell me about them?" Harry asked, nearly spilling his hot chocolate in his excitement.
Confusion filled the air.
"I doubt there's much I can tell you that you don't already know."
It was Harry's turn to be confused.
"I hardly know anything!" Harry exclaimed.
"I didn't even know they were Wizards until I was 11!"
Professor Lupin's face suddenly went very pale.
"I thought...didn't you grow up with your mother's sister? Petunia?"
Harry nodded.
"Yes..."
"And she didn't tell you anything?"
Harry shook his head.
"No. She didn't like to talk about Mum. I think it was too painful for her."
Liar.
Professor Lupin was watching him closely, eyes stormy.
"So, you don't know anything about them?"
Harry shook his head again.
He was surprised by the sudden anger flickering around the man, rage crackling in the air. The anger was quickly replaced with sadness and self-loathing, the force of it nearly knocking Harry off his chair.
"I'm sorry, Harry," the man sighed, raising a hand to his eyes.
"I thought...I was told..."
he shifted, guilt rushing around him.
"I thought you would know more. If I'd known..."
He stopped, raising his head to look at Harry.
"I owe you an apology."
Harry looked up at him, startled.
"No, you don't..."
"I do."
There was terrible conviction behind the man's words, fierce and desperate.
"I was...well, I should have been there for you while you were growing up. I should have tried harder."
Tried HARDER. Did that mean he had tried?
Professor Lupin seemed to notice his confusion, sighing heavily.
"I tried to visit you several times, but I was turned away. I had to stop trying when your Aunt threatened to call the police. I couldn't use magic against her either, you see. The Ministry doesn't look kindly on Wer...er...Wizards who curse Muggles."
Harry noticed another twinge of self-loathing as the man corrected his language.
What had he meant to say?
"I tried writing, but the letters never got to you. After a while, I gave up. I should have tried harder. I should have tried writing again once you'd gotten to Hogwarts, but I was told you were safe and happy..."
He trailed off, watching Harry closely.
"I left the country about 10 years ago. After I knew that you were safe and that I couldn't see you..."
There was another cascade of sorrow, deep and painful.
"There was nothing keeping me in England. I went to the United States, lived mostly in the No-Maj world."
Harry furrowed his brow.
"The what?"
Professor Lupin laughed.
"It means Muggle, Harry."
"Oh."
Harry didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to think. He could feel that Professor Lupin cared about him, feel it in the air around him, sense it in the silence between them.
This man cared about him.
It was staggering, startling, unfamiliar.
Confusing.
"Anyway," Professor Lupin said quietly.
"I want to be here for you now. If you'll let me."
Harry felt something cracking inside him, walls beginning to crumble. He so wanted to trust this man. He desperately wanted to have someone like this, someone who would be there. Someone who WANTED to be there.
But there was also fear, deep terror pulling at his desire to trust. Professor Lupin liked him now, but he didn't KNOW Harry. What if he grew to hate him? What if he realized how pathetic Harry really was? What if...?
Harry brushed the doubts away, shoving them aside. He tightened his hands around the mug, knuckles white against the porcelain.
Professor Lupin noticed his reaction, sighing heavily.
"You have every right to be angry with me. I know that I've made mistakes. I should have tried harder to see you, I should have...I don't know..."
Harry shook his head, not wanting Professor Lupin to think that Harry was mad at him.
"It's alright," he reassured.
"I'm not angry. If Aunt Petunia didn't want you around, you stood no chance."
The man laughed.
Harry loved the sound of it, warm and friendly.
It helped ease the terrible fear that this was all a dream, an illusion, a mirage, a lie.
"Well, if you want to know about your parents..."
Harry perked up at the offer, staring up at the man with pleading eyes.
"I do. I really, really do."
Professor Lupin smiled sadly at him.
"Why don't you join me in my office every Saturday? We can have tea. And I'll tell you everything you want to know."
Harry felt his heart swell, excitement and gratitude welling up inside him.
"I would like that," he whispered.
Maybe Professor Lupin wouldn't hate him. Maybe...
Maybe this could be something good.
Professor Lupin smiled, relief and happiness swirling around him, washing away the grief and despair from just moments before.
"Be warned," he said, grinning.
"I have endless stories to tell. This may take all year."
Harry grinned back, excitement replacing his confusion and fear. He took a drink of his hot chocolate, letting the sugary warmth drive away his fears.
"Professor Lupin?" he asked tentatively, not wanting to push his luck.
"Could you...could you tell me what their favorite colors were?"
He'd always wondered. It was such a simple fact, but it felt so personal, so intimate. It was the kind of thing people knew about their families.
Professor Lupin smiled.
"Your father liked orange."
"What kind of orange?" Harry blurted out, tact forgotten in his need for answers.
"Orange like the last rays of the sun as it sinks below the horizon," Professor Lupin said quietly.
"He liked to go flying in the evening and watch the sunset. It was his favorite time of day."
Harry filed that piece of information away, resolving to watch the sunset every night from now on.
"And Mum?" he asked.
"Lily..."
Remus trailed off, memories dancing in his eyes.
"She loved purple. Light purple."
He laughed suddenly, eyes sparkling with mirth.
"She actually Charmed James' hair lilac once. I don't remember why. I think maybe Sir..."
he trailed off, drawing in a breath, emotions suddenly sharp as glass.
"Anyway, James walked around like that for a whole week. He wouldn't change it back. This was back before they were dating. James thought Lily might like him more with purple hair."
"Did she?" Harry asked.
"Not in the slightest."
Harry laughed.
Professor Lupin was so easy to talk to, telling stories in a way that made Harry feel completely safe. His fears of rejection began to fade, pushed away by the genuine care he could feel emanating from the man.
Professor Lupin actually cared about him.
After their hot chocolate was gone, Harry offered to help Professor Lupin shelve his books, spending a very enjoyable hour sorting fascinating tomes. They were the kind of books Muggles imagined Wizards used: old and ornate, filled with diagrams and pictures of strange creatures.
They were so engrossed in their conversation, neither of them noticed the time passing.
By the time Harry checked his watch, it was already nearly curfew.
"Oh no," he muttered.
"I have to go."
Professor Lupin glanced at his own watch, chuckling as he watched Harry flee toward the door.
"Goodnight, Harry," he called, still laughing.
"Goodnight, professor," Harry yelled back, already racing down the hallway.
He didn't want to lose any points tonight. Not when Ron had already lost them twenty.
His hopes were dashed quickly enough.
"Potter."
Harry froze, recognizing the voice immediately.
"Professor Snape," Harry said, trying to stop his voice from shaking.
He hated how nervous Professor Snape made him. It was embarrassing. He knew he shouldn't be afraid of his Professor, but Privet Drive was still far too fresh in his mind, instincts screaming at him to be careful around this man.
"Why are you wandering the halls at this time of night?"
Harry glanced at his watch.
"There's still 10 minutes until cur..."
"Do not interrupt me, Potter!"
Harry took a step back.
"Answer my question. Why were you wandering the halls?"
Harry gulped.
This was not going well.
"I was just with Professor Lupin..."
"Professor Lupin?" Snape asked, eyes narrowing.
Hatred was rolling off the man, filling the air with pure loathing.
"Professor Lupin?" he asked again, voice dangerous.
"Yes, sir," Harry said, taking another step back.
"What exactly were you doing with him?"
Professor Snape moved forward, closing the distance Harry had put between them.
He was too close.
"I was just..."
Snape's hatred grew even stronger, sending jolts of agony through Harry's head.
"You were just what, Potter? Answer me!"
Harry felt his heart beginning to pound, hands shaking slightly.
He needed to get out of here.
"Is everything alright? I heard shouting."
A new voice cut in, startling Snape. The man backed away from Harry, seeming to realize that he'd been standing far too close.
"Everything is fine, Mr. Diggory," Snape said, giving Harry one last glare.
"Potter, 30 points from Gryffindor. And get back to your common room."
The man swept away, leaving Harry shaking like a leaf against the wall of the corridor.
"Are you alright?"
Harry looked up, locking eyes with his savior.
It was a Prefect, black and yellow tie proclaiming him a Hufflepuff.
"I'm Cedric," he said, smiling at Harry.
"Cedric Diggory."
"I'm Harry..."
"Potter. Yeah, I know."
The boy laughed, gray eyes sparkling.
"Everyone knows who you are."
Harry blushed.
"Right."
Cedric moved closer to him.
"You didn't answer my question," he said gently.
"Are you alright?"
Harry nodded, pushing himself away from the wall, trying to still the shaking of his hands.
"I'm okay. It's just Professor Snape. You know what he's like."
Cedric laughed.
"Yes. I do."
He gestured for Harry to follow him.
"Come on. I'll walk you back to Gryffindor Tower."
"You don't have to..."
"No arguing," Cedric said firmly.
"It's nearly curfew, and I don't think Gryffindor can afford to lose any more points tonight."
Harry groaned.
"Don't remind me. We're already down 50 points, and classes haven't even started yet!"
Cedric grinned.
"Maybe Hufflepuff will actually have a chance this year."
"No way," Harry said, shaking his head.
"We'll win those points back."
Cedric sighed.
"I know you will. With you on the Quidditch team, Gryffindor has this whole thing locked up."
Harry blushed at the praise, looking down at the ground.
"I'm not that good."
Cedric snorted.
"You're probably the best Seeker Hogwarts has ever seen. Don't sell yourself short."
Harry blushed brighter.
Before he knew it, they were at the Portrait of the Fat Lady. Harry had just realized that he didn't know the password when the Portrait Hole was flung open.
"There you are!" Hermione shrieked, grabbing his arm.
"We were so worried!"
"I think you're in good hands," Cedric said lightly, clearly amused.
"See you around, Harry."
"Bye, Cedric," Harry called, watching as the boy turned a corner.
Hermione pulled him into the Common Room, dragging him over to one of the sofas.
"What happened? What did Professor Lupin want? Why were you gone for so long?"
"Let the bloke breathe, Hermione," Ron said.
Hermione ignored him.
"And why was Cedric Diggory with you?"
"Diggory?" Ron exclaimed, looking disgusted.
"Why were you with him?"
"What's wrong with him?" Harry asked.
"He seemed nice."
Ron snorted.
"Oh, he's nice alright. Everyone thinks he's perfect."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Don't be jealous, Ronald."
"I'm not!" Ron said.
"I just...I don't get the appeal."
"He is quite good-looking," Hermione said thoughtfully.
Ron muttered something rude under his breath, causing Hermione to punch him in the arm.
"Professor Lupin knew my parents," Harry blurted out, needing to tell them.
They stopped bickering, turning to gape at him.
"Really?"
Harry nodded.
"He said they were really close. He said my Dad was practically his brother..."
Harry suddenly felt very choked up, breath catching in his throat.
"Oh, Harry..."
Hermione moved over to him, wrapping her arms around him. Harry hugged her back, grateful for the contact.
"I just...he offered to tell me about them...and it just..."
"It's a lot," Hermione agreed, pulling back from him.
"But you like him, don't you?"
Harry nodded.
"Then, I think this is a good thing, Harry. I think it's a really good thing."
Ron hadn't said anything, frowning slightly.
"Why are you just meeting him now?" he asked quietly.
"I mean...if they were that close..."
Harry shifted uncomfortably.
"He tried. But Aunt Petunia wouldn't let him see me."
Hermione nodded.
"That makes sense. She's your legal guardian. If she didn't want him to see you, there's nothing he could have done."
"Couldn't he just use magic?" Ron asked.
Hermione glared at him.
"No, Ron. Wizards can't just use magic against Muggles to get what they want. There are laws for a reason. Imagine if any Wizard could just force a Muggle to give up their child. Imagine how terrible that would be."
Ron looked down, clearly ashamed.
"Sorry, Hermione. I didn't think."
She sighed.
"I know. It's just...you have to understand that Muggles aren't lesser because they don't have magic. They're people too. They have as many rights as Wizards, and those rights are deserving of respect."
Harry smiled slightly as he watched Hermione work herself up. Her passion was admirable. She was going to be a force to be reckoned with in a few years. The Blood Supremacists better watch their backs.
"Did you find anything in the library?" Harry asked, wanting to stop Hermione before she could make it to full-on rant mode.
Hermione frowned, shaking her head.
"No. I don't think there's much of anything about them outside the Restricted Section. We'll need to get a note from a professor."
Harry sighed.
"It's alright. We'll figure something out."
"We can always just break in again," Ron said thoughtfully.
"It'll be easier than trying to get a note."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"I thought you wanted to have a boring year."
"I meant no dangerous exploits! I said nothing about rule-breaking."
"Did someone say rule-breaking?"
Fred and George appeared suddenly, seemingly summoned by the very mention of disobedience.
"No," Hermione said firmly.
"No one is breaking rules."
"But Hermione..." Fred whined, pouting.
"Breaking rules is so much fun!"
Harry listened to Hermione argue with the twins, pleasant emotions swirling around him.
Maybe everything would be okay.
His friends were going to help him control his abilities, Professor Lupin was going to tell him about his parents, and the Dursleys were miles away.
Maybe everything would be okay.
A/N: Hi everyone! Sorry this chapter is late, I was finishing up final exams. Now that I'm in summer mode,I'll be posting twice a week: Tuesdays and Fridays.
Chapter 3 will feature Buckbeak, a strange dog, and a Boggart. See y'all on Tuesday.
Thanks to everyone who has liked or commented! It means a lot!