This chapter, and the last chapter was originally supposed to be one chapter. But given I did not want a really long chapter, I split it in half.

Compared to most of my other stories, this is about eighty-five or more percent Potter based. There's that other fifteen percent or less that is not. Won't be too many characters, just less than a handful. No more than you can count on two hands at the very least.

It's really hard to put into words how I necessarily feel about Remus Lupin these days. He did not come across too favorable with me during my most recent re-read. He's a man with many demons. I'm sure the bit between Harry and Lupin will ruffle some feathers.

Enjoy. Not sure if I'll see you again before the New Year, but stranger things have happened.

Those Inconvenient Truths.

Double Potions class involving Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, to be honest, I felt that this would be less hostile than Double Potions involving Slytherin and Gryffindor because of the historic rivalry between the two houses. Adding Snape and his obvious biases sparked that powderkeg.

Snape swept through, doing roll.

"Mr. Potter."

What? No crack about me being a celebrity.

"Present."

And Snape continued to do roll without any further comment. That made me curious about his game and what he was planning.

He gave the speech. Blah, blah, blah, subtle art of Potion making, blah, blah, blah, bottle fame, brew glory, blah, blah, blah, Dunderheads. We have been through this. I mean, chances are, if you're reading this, you've read the Muggle novelizations. Or at least seen the movies.

I waited for it. And waited for it. And waited for it. Waited for Snape to ambush me with a barrage of questions about Potions brewing. His attempt to puncture my ego. But, it never came.

Oh, Snape might be a gross disgusting putrid excuse for a human being who is ill-equipped to teach students, but he's not an idiot. And I realized that he is depriving me of an attempt to make a scene because of what happened last night. The fact I destroyed his feeble expectations getting sorted into Ravenclaw rather than Gryffindor may have also played into how he's reacting today.

"Today, you will be creating a rudimentary potion to cure boils. Simple, but once you hit your magical maturation, it will be a useful skill to have. The instructions are on the board, and all of the ingredients you need are at hand. You may begin."

"You're just going to let us brew a potion, and not teach us the basics," I remarked.

"Mr. Potter, the instructions are in clear English," Snape said. "Even Crabbe and Goyle would be able to comprehend them."

Okay, that was unnecessarily cruel, but amusing. I'll allow it.

"Well, we're all first years, and some of us were raised in a Muggle household, with magic hating relatives…"

"Yes, Potter, we're all aware of your relatives after the spectacle you made last night. You just couldn't keep your mouth shut…"

"Just like my father, sir?"

The sir was delivered with so much venom and sarcasm, I'm sure Snape picked up on it.

"Pair up and get to work. We have no time for games."

Well, fine, be that way. I had such high expectations. Yes, I can be a bit of a drama queen sometimes. I turned to a rather nervous looking Neville.

"So, want to work together?" I asked.

"I…you…me?" he asked.

Oh, baby Neville, I forgot how awkward and nervous you were. And lacking self-confidence due to relatives dropping you out of a window to try and force your magic. You kind of grew out of it, although unfortunately, you do fall into the "or worse" category of the dead or worse. Let's avoid that from happening.

"Yes," I said. "I'm Harry Potter, perhaps you've heard of me?"

Neville chuckled, and I had broken the ice.

"A bit," Neville said. "I'm Neville Longbottom."

"Just relax," I said. "It's really a simple potion. One step at a time and we'll get it."

Neville nodded in response and we started to prepare the ingredients.

"Are you sure we should be doing it this way?"

"It will be fine."

I read Mum's potion journals before, and she had quite a few improvements. Even more than Snape's sixth-year text book, although I admit Snape did have some good ideas. See, I don't think Snape should be teaching children. However, he does know his Potions.

"Let that simmer, and count to thirty, before taking the cauldron off of the fire," I said. "And then when it cools for another thirty seconds, then add the porcupine quills. It's very important that it's off of the fire when you add those quills."

I caught my eye on Snape moving around the class. Malfoy had been trying to get Snape's approval, but only got casual indifference.

"Granger, Jones, your potion is adequate enough for a novice attempt. Greengrass, Davis, acceptable enough work, although it will run if you don't cut your stewed slugs precisely at the right angle. Do well to remember that in the future. "

Snape turned to Neville and me. He appraised the potion and looked at it long and hard. I could tell Snape trying to find a flaw in it, and struggling to do so.

"Longbottom should be fortunate he had your assistance today, Potter," Snape said. "Although, your potion is an acceptable grade, I'm afraid I'm going to have to take points off for not following my instructions to the letter."

"I disagree with your methods, sir," I told him.

"Well, you're not a Potions master, Mr. Potter, so your assessment is irrelevant," Snape said. "Five points from…Ravenclaw."

He choked out that statement as if it pained him to admit I was not in Gryffindor. Oh, you poor, poor thing.

"What, for being better than you are?" I asked.

Snape did not say anything in response and he moved on. The rest of the class went on without a hitch. And there was not a single melted cauldron today.

"Clean up, and head off to your next class," Snape told us coldly. "And I want an essay on what you did wrong in your potions today."

I wonder what Snape's reaction would be if I wrote an essay with the words "fuck you, I was right" on a constant loop. The rest of the class filed out. Daphne looked at me for a second, as if wondering why I was walking up to Snape's desk.

"Potter, you should head off to your next class," Snape said.

"You went to school with my parents, didn't you, sir?" I asked.

"Potter, leave," Snape said.

"Oh, I understand, sir," I told him. "Aunt Petunia hates it when I ask questions too."

The vein on Snape's forehead began to throb for a second. Obviously, comparing him to Petunia caused him a great deal of pain.

"Yes, Potter, I did, although I did not get along with your father and his friends."

Putting it rather mildly.

"And that includes, Sirius Black, right? I read that he betrayed my parents."

"So, you read what the world had to say about you, didn't you, Potter?" Snape asked.

"That wasn't an answer."

"Yes, Potter, Black and your father, they were joined at the hip, all throughout their time at Hogwarts," Snape said. "Black got what he deserved, being sent to Azkaban."

"Why?"

"Because, he led the Dark Lord to your parents, and he also blew up a bunch of innocent Muggles," Snape said in disgust. "Oh, and Pettigrew, that fat load."

"Who is Pettigrew?"

"Another one of your father's simpering followers," Snape said. "Potter, I have work to do, and I believe you have a class to attempt. I prefer not to relieve my school days."

And yet, you cannot move on from them.

"You don't like teaching, do you sir?"

"Potter, I'm warning you…"

"I know you don't like teaching," I said. "You don't like the students. You always have that scowl on your face, and it kind of creeps people out, you know, that, right? Is Dumbledore forcing you to teach against your will? Because, if he's blackmailing you, then that's kind of illegal, isn't it, sir?"

"Potter, detention!"

I may have struck a nerve.

"But, sir…"

"With Filch, the caretaker, on Friday night," Snape said. "I will inform him to expect you. There are things that don't concern a brat such as yourself."

"But, what kind of school is this, if there are teacher's being blackmailed into jobs that they don't like? And it's not like that the students like you, sir?"

"POTTER! OUT!"

Snape said calmly.

History of Magic had gone from one of my least favorite classes, to one of my favorite classes. Oh, no, it's not because if anything Binns did, he was still boring as ever. But, a stampede of elephants would not stop Binns from his lecture. Students dozed off, decided to go to the bathroom, and some of them worked on their Potions essay for Snape.

I casually walked out of class to pick up the Ravenclaw diadem from the Room of Hidden things. The Slytherin Locket had been ready as well. I showed up in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, with Kreacher waiting eagerly.

"Young master is ready?"

"Yes, let's rock."

I walked into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. And sure enough, I attracted a bit of attention.

"What are you doing in here? This is a girl's bathroom? You're not girls. And you're a house elf!"

"Kreacher is happy to know that the moapy Mudblood knows that much," the house elf muttered.

Thankfully, Myrtle did not hear that, because I did not want to spend the next half hour calming her down.

"Oh my!" I exclaimed. "It's Myrtle Warren. The Myrtle Warren!"

"Yes, I'm Myrtle," she said as she narrowed her eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry, so sorry," I said. "I'm Harry Potter."

"Yes, I know that," Myrtle said. "The Boy-Who-Lived, emphasis on boy, for this is a girl's bathroom."

I didn't know you could be so sassy, Myrtle.

"Well, I heard about the famous Myrtle, and I wanted to know how you came to haunt a girl's bathroom. How did you die?"

"Oooh, why didn't you say so?" Myrtle squealed.

Because, you did not give me a chance.

"I was crying because of that awful Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. And then, I heard another voice in here. It was a boy. And he was hissing."

"Hissing?" I asked.

"Yes, hissing," Myrtle said. "I opened up the stall to tell him to bugger off and use his own bathroom, and then, I felt funny, and then I died."

She added the last part with a dramatic flair.

"What did you see before you died?" I asked.

"Oh, a pair of yellow eyes," Myrtle said. "Over by that sink. They never fixed that sink. That tap hasn't worked for ages."

I walked over to the entrance of what I knew was the Chamber of Secrets. I could switch from English to Parseltongue on a whim. It took me a while to figure that out.

"Open," I hissed.

And Shazam, the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was now open. Although, I would have to change the password, because having "open" as your password just is lazy security.

"Well, wish me luck," I said.

I was leaving Kreacher alone with Myrtle. I might regret my life choices later with that arrangement.

Oh well. Time to take the dive. Both Horcruxes were bundled up.

"COWABUNGA!"

I stepped into the Chamber of Secrets. Now, if Salazar hid any treasures down here, any rare magical tomes, I'm certain Riddle picked them clean a long time ago. The only thing down here was the Basilisk. And I hoped to tame it.

So, how did Riddle wake this up again? Ah yes.

"Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four."

That is particularly vain to be honest. The great Basilisk rose up from it's slumber and looked at me for a long second.

"There is something different, something new," the Basilisk hissed at me. "You are a different master than the last master."

"Yes, I defeated your last master."

"And by the right of conquest, I am yours to command," The Basilisk said.

I had forgotten how big the Basilisk was. The Basilisk circled me and almost seized me up.

"You smell nicer than my last master," the Basilisk said. "And you have such pretty eyes."

Oh, I could look at the Basilisk without getting petrified due to being a Parselmouth. That would have been handy information to know the first time around.

"If you don't mind me for asking a personal question…um, Mr. Basilisk…"

"Ms, actually," the Basilisk said.

"So, you're a female Basilisk?"

I swear, she was hitting on me a moment ago. A thousand year old female Basilisk was hitting on me. I literally have no words for this.

"Yes, my fangs are more venomous," she stated.

"And I have need of your venom, to destroy some dangerous magical artifacts," he said.

"Yes, I will happily comply with your request, master," she hissed.

"Okay…do you have a name?" I asked.

"A name?"

"Well, I can't call you, Ms. Basilisk all of the time."

"Neither of my masters decided to name me," she replied.

"Well, how about…Rosa?" I asked her.

"Rosa?" she asked. "It sounds delightful."

"Glad, you like it."

The newly minted Rosa circled around me and stared intently into my eyes. To think that such a majestic creature was made from a chicken egg hatched beneath a toad. Herpo the Foul really was a mad genius.

It was unfortunate that the members of his collective were called "Herpes" though.

"I take it you are wishing to perge the dark infestation from these artifacts, and not merely destroy them?" Rosa asked.

"Yes, I am."

"You will only need to extract a small drop of venom and drop it into the center of the object. Careful…yes, like that!"

I swear, anyone hearing this conversation from the outside would get the wrong impression. Thankfully, no one else speaks Parseltongue. Well one does, but he's currently trapped beneath a turban, in a different side of the castle. I extracted the venom.

I destroyed Slytherin's locket first. The dark shade of Voldemort's soul extracted from the Horcrux. It was a bit mangled from the process.

More care was done with destroying the Horcrux within Ravenclaw's diadem. I watched the tell tale sign of the decaying soul fragment being extracted. The Diadem looked slightly burned, but in otherwise good shape.

Both shades vanished.

Two down. Four more to go. Including one in my scar.

"Hideous," Rosa hissed. "To mangle your soul in such a way for immortality."

"And there are more," I said. "I must go."

"You will return?"

"Yes, I will," I said. "And I know of a colony of Acromantula which you can hunt."

"Such vermin should be purged from the Earth," Rosa said.

I could hardly disagree. Sorry, not sorry, Hagrid.

"So, until next time."

"Farewell, beloved master," she said in a softer tone.

I left the Chamber of Secrets, with a lot to think about. I could feel Rosa's longing eyes follow me out of the Chamber.

Even one thousand year old monsters, I swear, and this is when I'm trying not to attract female attention.

I left the Chamber, and showed Kreacher the destroyed Locket. Kreacher smiled a bright smile while Mytle wailed in the stall. I can only imagine.

"A million thanks young master," Kreacher said. "Master Regulus can finally rest in peace knowing that it has been successfully destroyed."

"Your house elf is a jerk!" Myrtle screamed.

"What's her problem?" I asked.

"Kreacher thinks the moapy Mudblood died when she was having her monthly problem, young master. She will be stuck with eternal cramps and vaginal bleeding forever."

Fair enough. I made my way over to the sink and changed the password to the chamber from "open" to "El mayarah." A nice tribute to my lovely Lady Potter and her family's motto.

Someday we will meet again, my little paragon of hope.

There won't be too many crossovers this time around, but you know, certain traditions must be maintained. It's like if Lucy did not pull the football away from Charlie Brown. Just seems wrong.

Charms had always been a fun and useful class. Flitwick always made sure everyone got through everything okay, and he was a patient and personable fellow. And he had a great passion for his profession.

I just wish he had a better magical school to work with, than Hogwarts.

"Mr. Potter, if you could stay behind for just a minute. I would like to have a quick word with you."

Well, I did not expect Flitwick to hold me back. I find myself a bit curious as to why he had me stay around.

"Yes, Professor?"

"That was quite the spectacle the other night, Mr. Potter," Flitwick said. "Five points to Ravenclaw for not going along with the status quo."

"Oh, you're not…"

"Upset, heavens no," Flitwick said. "If anything, I'm ashamed that a first year student said the things that no one else had the guts to say. And given that we have all been fielding concerns from parents and students during our down time over the past day, I can say your opinion is not mutually exclusive. It was a miscalculation not to inform the parents of the risk, but Professor Dumbledore assured us it would all work out. Even after our misgivings."

Well, it appeared the teachers were not too big of a fan of the corridor of doom either.

"I had more I could have said," I said.

I could have made this a bit more public and nasty than I could have. I could have brought up the vault key, and the family heirloom, but the fact is, I wanted to make this about the collective safety of Hogwarts and not about me.

"Oh, I'm sure you could have," Flitwick said. "But, you wanted to make it about the students and not about yourself. Although your comment about your aunt has made a lot of us concerned."

I do wonder if Penny or maybe some of my yearmates had come to Flitwick with their concerns about me. It would have been something I would have been angry about, but now I just let it go.

"Well, Professor Dumbledore arranged for me to go there. I'm certain he never thought family could harm each other."

Of course, anyone knows that a child is more likely to be vicitmized by someone they know, than a complete stranger. Although thankfully the Dursleys had not gone there, and instead had settled for emotional and physical abuse. Looking at Vernon and Petunia through adult eyes had been unsettling to say the least.

"I think we are looking at some of Professor Dumbledore's decisions with a bit more scrutiny these days, Mr. Potter," Flitwick said. "If you wish to share anything with me, my door is always open to my students."

"Thank you, Professor," I said.

"Oh, and it will be an honor to work with you in Charms," Flitwick said. "You may just have the flair for the subject just like your mother, and she was a natural. I had hoped to work with her in the future, but that Halloween happened."

Flitwick and I shared a private moment, remembering Lily Evans, and what might have been. She did not need to die like that. No one needed to die like that.

I arrived at Transfiguration class, and came across a very familiar cat sitting at the front of the class. A mischievous smile went across my face.

"Kitty!" I shouted. "What are you doing here? And without a tag. And a collar. I'm pretty sure this is against the Hogwarts rules and regulations."

Daphne and Tracey looked highly amused at me scratching said "kitty" on the ears. Those two had a feeling.

"I really hope you've had all of your shots, Kitty."

I stroked "kitty" on the ears, who gave me a reproachful look at my statement.

"I have something that I think you'll enjoy, kitty."

I whipped out a laser pointer, and instinctively, the cat's eyes followed the dot on the wall. Then, the cat shifted into her normal form.

"Mr. Potter!"

"Kitty, that's a neat trick. You turned into a woman."

"Mr. Potter, please take a seat," McGonagall said. "I can assure you that the trick was me turning into a cat and not the other way around…put that away."

I noticed McGonagall's eyes still following the laser pointer, even whilst human. I guess you are what you turn into in some cases. I smiled, pocketed my little toy, and took a seat next to Padma and Su. And I let McGonagall give her speech and wow us with Transfiguration that we will not be able to perform for a few more years at least.

Well, I could. But, that would be showing off.

Transfiguring a match into a needle, piece of cake. Then again, everything is rather straight-forward when you mastered the basics. I did my best to help the rest of my fellow Ravenclaws get the technique. I did not do the work for themselves, but I gave them some helpful hints, to focus.

McGonagall looked at me, with a slight shadow of a smile.

"Very well done," McGonagall said. "Five points to Ravenclaw for all of you, and ten for Mr. Potter for his skill and also assistance to everyone. Your homework is on the board. Mr. Potter, I do wish to speak with you in private after class."

Well, that's a trend. Daphne, Su, and Padma all gave me those looks, and the rest of the class were not far behind.

"What can I see, I'm popular with the teachers," I said.

"That's one way to put it," Daphne murmured. "We'll be outside."

"I'll be fine."

I feel like I say that so much, I should have it engraved on my tombstone. Lady Black would agree with me on that.

"Yes, Professor?"

"I'm impressed," McGonagall said. "Your father, he was extremely skilled in Transfiguration and I daresay he would be proud of you."

"Yes," I said. "But, I don't think that was the only reason why you held me behind after class."

"No, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said.

"It wasn't about the laser pointer, was it?"

"While I would like to ask you to never bring that thing to class again, it's not about that either. I owe you an apology."

I knew what for. But I had to play the innocent first year card.

"Oh, what for?"

McGonagall sighed for a second.

"I owe you an apology. Regarding your relatives."

"I thought Professor Dumbledore…"

"He asked me to keep an eye on them throughout the day prior to you being left there," McGonagall said. "I saw signs they might not be the best to take care of you. But, Dumbledore, he insisted it was for the best. I just wish I had argued more, although Dumbledore has this knack of talking people into making decisions that aren't generally the best."

"Did he ask them for permission at least?" I asked.

"No, he left you with a note, in a basket…"

"In November, out in the cold and the rain," I responded. "Where I could have toddled off and got hit by a car.'

Obviously, this was just occurring to McGonagall for the first time. An unfortunate quality within magical users was they ignored inconvenient truths. She frowned, deeply.

"Well, I'd like to think Dumbledore…well it's not important," McGonagall said. "I'm sorry that I did not argue against you being sent there. I hope you don't hold it against me."

"Well, I hope you can forgive yourself, Professor," I told her.

Well, McGonagall shifted a bit guiltily.

"May I leave?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter. And I'm sorry."

At least, McGonagall had the decency to apologize to me this time around. So, there's that. There's a lot, I will not forgive.

About the only thing which I will accept Dumbledore did was him erasing my memory of a very traumatic event that happened when I was eight years old, involving my first friend being dragged off to Hell by a demon. I understand why Dumbledore did that, because that was fucking terrifying when I actually was eight.

The future Lady Black as well. On my list of people I need to save. Although getting a man out of prison, is a lot less simpler than freeing a girl from the bad place.

All of the other stuff, Dumbledore can bugger off with.

Astronomy is most certainly a class. Although getting me up out of bed this time of night, to go into a drafty tower is not exactly ideal.

Aurora Sinistra though, yum. Very much yum. It makes me hate robes and how much they hide. I cannot tell precisely how cold this tower can get. Although, baby got back.

Lupin actually wrote me back, and I wrote to him, and I arranged a meeting for him. I suggested the Hog's Head, on Hagrid's casual recommendation, but Lupin, being a responsible adult, wants the meeting at Hogwarts. Dumbledore's kind of preoccupied at the moment with meetings with angry parents, Ministry officials, and Skeeter's like a dog with a bone and she's not letting up in the Prophet on Dumbledore's biggest blunder Not sure how he's going to play this one, but I can move on the Sirius front without Dumbledore trying anything.

I kept him preoccupied for a reason on other matters. Although Lupin's still a complicated one. This might not work well.

For now I enjoyed the view and had been left along with my thoughts.

Also got to keep a close eye for meteor showers. Just in case.

Dumbledore had not shown up at the Great Hall for a meal, ever since the events of that first night. Snape also seemed to be avoiding having any interaction with me. I smiled.

"So, what's going on?" Padma asked me.

"Oh, I just got in touch with a friend of my parents, and I'm meeting him today," I said. "I've got questions."

"Wait?" Daphne asked. "This friend, he didn't check up on you at all, did he?"

"He didn't," I said. "Hence why I have questions."

"Maybe..you shouldn't meet with him alone," Penny said a bit nervously.

"It will be fine," I said. "Thank you for your concern."

I loved people's concern. I really did. But, having any of them involved, it was not a good idea.

"Harry, I really should," Penny insisted.

"You can't…"

"Don't worry, nothing you two talk about will leave the room," Penny said.

"Are you sure about that?" I asked. "Because what we talk about could be uncomfortable."

"I can handle it," Penny told me boldly. "It's just, you shouldn't set yourself up to get hurt again. And he better have some good answers."

"Yes, he better," Marietta said.

"For sure," Cho said.

"Yes, he should," Su agreed.

"You really should go, Penny," Cho said. "This guy is a no-show for ten years, and now he wants to talk to Harry."

I sighed. I supposed Penny would keep insisting. And I had to decide how I would play this.

I made my way to an unused classroom, where Remus was waiting. And good old Professor Flitwick stood outside. Penny walked next to me, for a few seconds and gazed into my eyes.

"Ms. Clearwater," Flitwick said. "I'll be in my office if you need me."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Mr. Potter."

"You didn't have to do this," I muttered to Penny.

"I know."

Penny and I walked over to Lupin. He still looks shabby as ever. Things would get worse when Snape outed him, which gave Umbridge all of the excuse she needed to bully through her anti-werewolf legistation.

Umbridge would have her day. I would sooner burn this school down than let her set one foot in it this time.

"Harry?"

"Yes, I'm Harry," I responded. "You're Mr. Lupin, right?"

"Please, call me, Remus," he said. "And I'm sorry, you are…"

"Penelope Clearwater," the beautiful brunette prefect said. "I'm here as a witness to make sure nothing bad happens to Harry."

Lupin regarded her for a minute, and nodded in response.

"Penny's sworn that nothing we discuss leaves this room," I told him. "But, she doesn't want me to do this alone."

"I know," Lupin told me. "She's looking out for you. I understand completely. I wish…well it doesn't matter."

"Where have you been?" I asked. "You were friends with my father, with both of my parents. And yet, I didn't hear from you and I had to write to you. Why didn't you check up on me?"

"Dumbledore…"

Choose your next words carefully, Lupin. Choose them extremely carefully. Lupin does have his share of demons. The life of a werewolf is not a pleasant one. Especially one that fights his inner nature.

It appeared that Lupin caught himself. He sensed that Dumbledore was a very touchy subject with me.

"Always, him, isn't it?" I asked.

"Professor Flitwick mentioned to me that Dumbledore might be a touchy subject, and explained what happened on the night of your sorting," Lupin said. "He's given me no reason not to trust him, but he's obviously given you many."

"Mmm, hmm."

Penny squeezed my hand from the other side of the desk. I caught a whiff of the flowery scent of her hair, which relaxed me.

"Did you meet my Aunt, Remus?" I asked him.

"Petunia…she was envious of Lily, I only met her and her husband a couple of times," Lupin said. "They weren't pleasant. I didn't really think anything of it, when Dumbledore told me that you would be okay."

"And yet, you knew what Petunia was," I said.

"Harry, with James dead, Peter…Black, I had no friends left and did not question things when Dumbledore said you were safe," Lupin said. "And there were other circumstances why I couldn't look after you."

I narrowed my eyes at Lupin's rather feeble excuse. I tried to be fair, but this was a man who was more broken than I realized the first time through. And there was a small part of me who felt bad for raking him over the coals, but this conversation needed to be had.

"Monthly circumstances, right?"

Lupin raised an eyebrow.

"You know what I'm talking about, Mr. Lupin," I told him.

Penny's eyes widened a fraction of a second.

"You're a werewolf?" Penny asked Lupin.

Lupin hesitated, and nodded.

"He is," I told her.

Penny struggled with how to handle this little bit of information. It was my turn to squeeze her hand. Thankfully, it was not anywhere near the full moon. As far as I know.

"Harry, you know, how do you know?" Lupin asked.

"That's my little secret, Remus. But, my father, you, and the rest of their friends had their little secrets, as well, didn't they…Moony?"

Now Remus had been rather confused. I produced the cage containing the rat. Penny looked baffled at the fact that I produced such a thing. Although, she seemed to have recognized the rodent in question.

"Why do you have Percy Weasley's pet rat?"

"He gave it to his brother, Ron, and Ron sold it to me for a hundred and fifty galleons," I said.

"You paid one hundred and fifty galleons for a rat?" Penny asked.

"Why did someone like Percy Weasley even have a pet rat in the first place?"

Penny shrugged, she had no idea as much as I did. Remus's eyes widened when he caught sight of the rat. His eyes went to the front paw where there was a toe missing.

"That's not a rat, either of you," Lupin said. "He lost a finger, but he might have cut it off. And that means…oh God no."

"What?" I asked him.

"Peter Pettigrew," Lupin practically growled. "I thought Sirius…but they might have thought that I was the spy. Which is why they switched. And that means…"

We are getting there. Remus looked angry and Penny looked confused.

"So, this rat is really a man named Pettigrew," I said.

"Wait, that rat's a man?" Penny asked.

The implications of a man disguised as a rat sharing a dormitory for years with underage children hit Penny, and she looked extremely ill. And I could not blame her. Lupin looked sick and murderous as he was staring at the rat.

"We have to do something," Lupin said.

"Well, I already sent a request from Sirius's trial transcripts, so I should be hearing back from them any day now," I said.

"Sirius didn't receive a trial," Remus muttered.

I nodded in response. I turned to Penny who looked pale and was shaking. I put my arm around her and swept her into a hug, which she returned.

"I'm sorry, Penny," I said. "You okay."

"An innocent man was sent to prison without a trial, another man was living as a rat for ten years, in the presence of young children," Penny muttered. "I'm not okay. This is awful. Sorry, but it is!"

"I know you're not," I told her. "And I'm not either. Not after this."

"I could turn Pettigrew in, but the Ministry is not likely to listen to me," Lupin said. "Because of my…"

"Furry little problem?" I asked him.

"Exactly," Lupin said. "And the Ministry doesn't like to admit their mistakes."

No, that's a problem. Penny took in a deep breath and looked at me.

"I think your pet should get a full magical checkup," Penny told me. "And Cho's mother, she runs a clinic in Hogsmeade for magical pets. If she gives him a full checkup, she'll discover Pettigrew's true nature. And then she'll have to report it to the Ministry and given how she's a respected animal healer, she'll have to take it seriously. I can run down there for you, if you want me to?"

"Oh, you can go to Hogsmeade anytime?"

"Fred and George Weasley owe me a favor," Penny said.

Now, that's something that I want the backstory for.

"Tell her that he's a slippery one," I told Penny.

"Don't worry, I understand," she told me. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes, Penny, I do. I know you won't let me down."

Penny took the rat into her possession. I trusted she would do the right thing. I was glad Penny was insistent she was here.

Lupin looked at me for a long second.

"Dumbledore assured me you were safe."

"Well, Dumbledore's version of safe is me not being a rotting decomposing corpse in that blasted cupboard."

Penny shivered at the visual. Lupin frowned.

"Harry, I don't know what to say," Lupin said. "I'm sorry."

"Well, it's just like I told McGonagall, I hope you can forgive yourself."

This meeting ended on a bit more of a chilling note than I intended to when I first wrote to Lupin Admittedly, I never had as close of a relationship with Lupin as one might think. He was always distant. The only real bonding when had was when he taught me the Patronus spell.

There was a lot of guilt there.

"I don't know about that," Lupin quietly said.

He thought he failed me. And he was right. And he could not look me in the eye.

"Harry?"

"Let's go," I told Penny. "And let me know what I owe you. Thank you for your time, Mr. Lupin."

Penny and I walked off. Remus walked off behind me ,and Flitwick watched the two of us leave.

"He may look like James, but he's most certainly Lily's son," Flitwick told Remus.

"So I noticed."

The final class of the week was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Quirrell looked a little bit more haggard than usual. I figure my questioning of the certain death corridor and putting it under such scrutiny, put his master in a terrible mood.

I had to deal with this problem right now.

"Welcome to D-d-d…."

Quirrell flew ass over teakettle and hit the ground. A well-placed trip jinx caused his feet to get tangled with each other. He struggled to get up.

"Hang on, Professor, I'm going to help you up."

I grabbed Quirrell by the hand and he screamed in misery. It was almost like his flesh was burning.

Because his flesh was burning. Badly.

"Oh, Professor, I don't know what's going on. You're burning up. I should get you to the Hospital wing. Just hold on, we'll be there in a jiffy."

He's screaming in more misery when I tried to drag him towards the door.

"Get off of me!"

I cured his stutter. It's a miracle!

My classmates were looking on, wondering what the hell was happening in front of them. And to be honest, they had every right to be baffled. Quirrell screamed in agony as his flesh began to burn.

"Really, sir, I'm just trying to help. You know what, maybe you wouldn't be so hot if you didn't have this turban on. Let me just get that for you."

"NO!"

Quirrel screamed, and so did my classmates. Off the turban and everyone saw the face of terror on the back of Quirrel's head. Slit like eyes, without a nose. Snake-like face, without a nose. Murderous glance, and no nose.

Did I mention he had no nose?

Padma finally managed to get the mental faculties to get the hell out of her seat and run for help. Daphne, Tracey, and a few others followed, although those in the back of the classroom had been paralyzed with fear.

"Professor, I think I know the problem. You have a cursed magical tattoo of someone's face on the back of your head. Don't worry, I'll get rid of it."

"POTTER, YOU WILL….ARGH!"

Quirrel's entire body sizzled to a smoking skeletal corpse, and the dark shade of Voldemort appeared, screaming in fierce agony.

"You'll pay for that, Potter!" he hissed.

The spectral fragment of Lord Voldemort floated above me and hissed evil. I stood in a pile of ashes which was once Quirrell's body.

The class room door sprung open, and Flitwick rushed in for the save. He got Sophie and Lisa, the two last remaining students straggling, out of there, and held his wand on the abomination before him.

"I'll get you next time, Harry Potter! Next time!"

That kind of loses the effect without a cat meowing. But, I digress.

Flitwick tried to contain the abomination, but it shot out into the distance and shattered every single window around us. The spirit zoomed all the way home. The force caused me to drop in Quirell's remains.

"Mr. Potter?" Flitwick asked.

"The Dark Lord?"

Snape appeared outside of the classroom, and saw the only remaining piece of Quirrell, his turban smelling of garlic. The force which I needed to discharge Voldemort's spirit.

"I'm afraid so, Severus," Flitwick said.

"It was on the back of Quirrell's head," I muttered. "This terrifying snake-faced man with no nose. And slit like eyes. And he didn't have a nose either."

"That's the Dark Lord, Potter," Snape said. "I'm going to have to contact Dumbledore, and tell him I told him so. Again. And you should make sure Mr. Potter gets to the Hospital wing and the rest of your students aren't traumatized for life."

"Of course," Flitwick said. "Easy does it, Harry."

"I was just trying to help Quirrell after he tripped," I told Flitwick. "And he caught on fire."

"I know, I know," Flitwick said kindly. "Miss Patil and Miss Greengrass told me as much when they barged into my classroom."

Thankfully, this time I did not pass out. Snape looked skeptical about my story, but he had more pressing concerns.

I might have scarred a few of my classmates for life as well.

To Be Continued.