Remus

Spring was coming. Remus could see it in the way frost no longer covered the entirety of the windows in the morning, and he could feel it in not being woken up in the middle of the night by his freezing and shivering body. It was getting warmer, and mother nature was waking up from her deep slumber. But Remus' emotional winter was nowhere close to ending. Someone had stopped the clock on the change of seasons within him, and now he was doomed to eternal cold and gloom.

And how was he supposed to carry on? How was there ever supposed to be sunshine and blooming flowers again? Lily and James' death had uprooted his life. Nothing was the way it had been before. Everything he thought he'd known turned out to be nothing but falsehoods. Over twenty years of his life, he had lived in an alternate universe, with reality laughing about him and his naivety. How did he ever believe that he, Remus Lupin, was deserving of such a tight-knit and well-meaning group of friends? It had been a farce, and the moment he no longer anticipated betrayal, betrayal had come.

Now he was all that was left of the group of four. James and Peter were dead, and Sirius was in Azkaban. Remus turned to his side to look at the picture of them on the day of their graduation from Hogwarts. They seemed happy, each looking toward a great future and a fulfilled life. Not even five years had passed since that day, and Remus' life couldn't have changed more. Until that fateful day half a year ago, he had lived comfortably in a small flat in London, close to Sirius' place. James had sent him some money each month to account for rent and food and other living expenses, and working for the Order had provided him with a little bit of a financial buffer.

But now, this was a distant past. There was no more need for the Order, and James couldn't send him money any longer. There was no Sirius he could live close by. Month by month, his financial buffer had shrunken. He couldn't afford the monthly supply of Wolfsbane any longer. He had to leave his place in London. Instead, Remus had moved to a secluded, semi-derelict cottage in the middle of nowhere to reduce the risk of his transformations.

The long winter months had seemed like one month, just one obscure day, and somehow, that had made it more bearable. Because it felt like the whole world was also on halt, like everyone else was frozen in shock, unable to carry out simple everyday tasks. But now, spring was on its merry way, and the warmer temperatures outside and the chirping birds every morning just served as a painful reminder - life was continuing, and Remus had fallen beneath the wheels.

Remus had fallen well below the financial threshold he set himself, at which point he wanted to seriously start looking for a new lucrative job, but he just couldn't bring himself to it. The odd tutoring jobs he had here and there did so much to get some food to his table, but they didn't provide for him. The cottage he was inhabiting was literally falling apart, and Remus' magical handyman skills only went so far.

He knew he needed to change something. At least he needed to try.

And for that, he needed to get his home in order. At least he needed to get rid of the trash he had been accumulating.

Remus looked around his living room when his gaze locked on one little broom leaning on his sofa. Harry's toy broom. A gift from Sirius for the boy's first birthday.

Remus suddenly realized he hadn't really thought about the boy much these last months. He knew he was living with his aunt and uncle somewhere in Surrey, but he never went to visit him once. A stabbing pain shot through his heart as he thought about the countless weekends he had hung out at James and Lily's, where he would supervise Harry playing with the same broom that was now standing next to his sofa, where it had been standing untouched for half a year.

Enough of this self-loathing, he told himself. If he needed to marinade in his own misery for six months, then so be it, but depriving a little boy of joy was the last thing he ever wanted to do. Breaking his own personal slump by visiting Harry to bring him his toy was the first thing he needed to do to get his life back in order; Remus was sure of that.

He went over to his desk and rummaged in one of the drawers. He could vaguely remember writing down some address there about Harry's whereabouts. He was sure he wasn't supposed to know; this was part of Dumbledore's plan to keep Harry out of the magical world for as long as possible, but Remus couldn't help when he saw the address during the funeral service. You never knew when or how these things could come in handy.

The drawer was filled to the brim with letters he never sent. Most of them were addressed to Sirius - letters about disappointment, anger, frustration, doubts, condemnation. Some pages were mere diary entries, addressed to no one. Beneath all of them, Remus found what he was looking for. A tiny, crinkled sheet of paper with the number 6 in one corner. He had torn the paper off the menu in the restaurant.

And there it was.

Petunia and Vernon Dursley

4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey

Remus didn't have a plan. Lily had barely mentioned her sister, but it was an open secret that their relationship had been anything but stellar. Once, after a few Firewhiskys at Sirius', she explained to them that everything had gone south after Lily received her letter from Hogwarts and that Petunia was jealous of her. Of course, their parents being incredibly proud of Lily and dismissive of Petunia's achievements didn't exactly help.

How must Petunia feel now? Remus tried to imagine it, but he grew up an only child, so he was already struggling to conceive that type of bond. But what it felt like to feel left out of the magical community, Remus knew all too well. He looked at the deep scars over his right arm. Two more weeks.

He grabbed his cloak from the hanger next to the front door, shoved the little broom in the inner pocket, and left his home to apparate to Little Whining.

After appearing on the small city's outskirts, he looked around. It was ... brown, to put it frankly. The houses seemed to have been built by the same person, from the same bricks. No matter which road he looked into, there was no way he could tell them apart. But at the same time, he didn't want to ask anyone for directions, so walking around aimlessly until he found the road sign that said Privet Drive was his only option.

After making his way through Wisteria Walk, he went through a scary-looking underpass, and then - he couldn't believe his eyes - there it was. Privet Drive. Harry Potter's new home. The remainder of his former life.

He stared at the doorbell of house number four. It looked just the same as all the other houses on the street. He involuntarily shook his head when he tried imagining Lily's sister in this house. How could someone of Lily's bloodline willingly live in this brown-cobbled cage? Lily would have run away. She wouldn't even have taken this house as a gift.

There was just one name on the nameplate next to the doorbell, Dursley. No mention of Harry Potter. Had he been formally adopted, name change and all? Was this even Remus' place to be? What was he doing? But then, his fingers were quicker than his mind, and he pressed the bellpush.

Nothing happened at first. A kid was screaming somewhere on the upper floor. Then, he could hear steps coming closer to the front door; the door was being opened.

Lily's sister. The similarity between the two was undeniable, but Petunia looked like the raw manuscript version of Lily. Where Lily's hair had been bright red, Petunia's hair was strawberry blonde at best. And where Lily was always watching her surroundings out of her sparkling green eyes, Petunia stared at him doubtfully out of pale blue eyes. Petunia looked like a washed-out Lily.

"Are you Petunia Dursley?" he said because he didn't know what else to say.

His voice sounded raspy, reminding him that he had barely spoken to another human being for the past six months. Petunia kept fixating on him with her pastel blue eyes as if wanting to penetrate his soul and discover his secrets.

"Who are you?" she finally responded, narrowing her eyes.

"Pardon me. I should have introduced myself first, of course. I'm Remus Lupin."

He tried smiling at her to signal that he was trustworthy, that he wasn't some creep who just turned up at her door. He held out his hand to her, but she just kept eyeing it for an awfully long moment.

Suddenly, she reached out her hand as well and shook his. "Yes, I am Petunia Dursley. Do we know each other?"

Remus had thought about this question in advance, knowing very well that he might have to face it. He practiced answering it.

"I am - I was - a friend of Lily. I was there at the funeral." Talking about his friends in the past tense still was a sheer unaccomplishable task for his brain.

Petunia closed her eyes for a second, then she opened them again. It was as if her pastel blue eyes had been replaced by tiny ice crystals emanating the same cold Remus felt within himself.

"I do not wish to talk to friends of my despicable sister, have a good day," she said and reached for the door handle.

In all of his practice sessions, Remus never envisioned that she might say this. She couldn't do this! Harry was all he had left! He had to see him as if to prove to himself that he didn't just make up his previous life; it was real. That Lily and James had been real.

He opened his mouth, thinking of something intelligent to say, but the words just came tumbling out of it without him being able to think about them in the slightest.

"Can I see Harry, at least?"

Her startled reaction gave him just enough time to take a breath and say what he actually planned on saying all along.

"Please," he murmured, and then, looking directly at her, he added, "I know it must be hard for you. Losing your sister and then having to take care of her child. I just - I know there's not much I can do to help, but if I could only take Harry for a stroll, give you a few minutes of free time, maybe that would help. You wouldn't have to interact with me. I won't bother you, I promise."

Petunia now looked even more flabbergasted than before. He could almost see how she was discussing with herself in her head, weighing different arguments against each other. She was moving her eyes from left to right every few moments. She took a long time to ponder about his offer, so long, in fact, that Remus already thought it had been too much for her brain to handle.

"I'm sorry," she then said. "I won't let you take Harry for a stroll alone. I'm his legal guardian, after all."

It took a few seconds for the words to trickle into Remus' consciousness, but when they registered, they left a deep, hollow pit in his belly. Although wanting to visit Harry had started out as a spontaneous idea, he now realized how much he had missed the boy and how he was longing for interaction with another human. But it was no point arguing. Petunia was right. She was Harry's legal guardian, and she was entrusted with the difficult task of making sure Harry Potter, The Boy who lived, grew up safely.

"I understand," he said, shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, and turned around to leave.

"But you may come inside and visit Harry under my watch. Five minutes."

Petunia had spat out these words, and as he turned around to see if it was really her speaking, she almost looked like she had already regretted saying them. But Remus didn't want to think twice. The universe had given him a second chance.

He smiled. "Thank you so much," he said.

Petunia opened the front door to let him in. Pink wallpaper covered the hallway walls, and a dozen pictures of a small boy with a face that - Remus couldn't stop that thought from popping into his brain - reminded him of a pig. He took off his shoes as the entire house smelled like a potpourri of different cleaning solutions, and he didn't want to ruin the carpet.

Petunia motioned him to go up the stairs, from where the screaming was still audible. They entered a small kid's bedroom, and there he was. Harry.

Funnily enough, as soon as they entered, Harry stopped screaming and looked at the two with his large eyes instead.

Then he started smiling. "Moomie," he gurgled, reaching his little arms over his head.

Remus could barely hold back the tears.

"Yes, little guy," he said with a choked voice, "Uncle Moony is here."

"Who is Moony?" Petunia asked.

"Me," Remus said, his voice sounding distant and hollow. "It was a nickname in our group of friends."

He moved closer to Harry's bed, but before picking the boy up, he turned around again, looking at Petunia to see whether she was okay with everything. She nodded, and he finally lifted Harry out of his crib. They played this game of lifting Harry up and down again for a few minutes, and when Remus looked around, he found that Petunia was no longer in the same room.

Without hesitation, he reached into his cloak to get the toy broomstick. When Harry saw the toy, he immediately reached his little hands toward it. The sparkle in the boy's eyes spoke novels about how much he must miss the magical world, magic itself. Of course, he didn't have the words to articulate it yet, and Petunia had absolutely no means of offering it to him anyway, but after hovering on the broomstick for just a few minutes, Harry snuggled up in Remus' arms, happy and tired. When Harry was fast asleep, Remus put him back into his little crib and left the room, leaving the toy broomstick on the side of the bed.

He almost ran into Petunia as she was just returning to Harry's bedroom.

"He's asleep," Remus explained. "I should leave."

Petunia nodded, and the two returned downstairs, where Remus put his shoes back on and stepped outside on the front porch.

Before truly leaving, he turned around one last time, looking directly into Petunia's face.

"Thank you, once again."