Snape swept angrily throughout the corridors, until he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. "Phoenix Feather," he snapped irritably, climbing in, his cape swishing behind him. He glanced around the common room. Potter had some nerve to skip his class. He'd make him pay. "Potter, I know you're in here…"
"Good for you."
The voice was coming from an armchair with its back towards him. He made to go look Harry in the eyes before telling him off, but he was interrupted.
"Please don't look at me right now," requested Harry.
"Why are you skipping my class?"
"If I could stand up I'd come."
"What's ailing you this time?"
"It's none of your business."
"Quite the contrary. It is one of my duties as a teacher to ensure the safety and well-being of my students," he said silkily. "I should help you up so that Madam Pomfrey can get a better look at you."
"That won't be necessary," said Harry quickly.
"Then get up and come to my class. You've already lost fifty points for cutting, if I see fit I'll take away another hundred for you talking back and refusing to obey my directions."
HELP ME,
LUPIN!!!!!!
Harry,
I'm teaching-what seems to be the problem?
I
don't want Snape to see me like this, and I can't walk. He's not supposed to find out, right?
No. Make sure he doesn't.
Get him out!!!!!! he screamed mentally.
One moment. "I'm sorry," he said to his seventh year Hufflepuff Defense class. He pretended to glance at a piece of parchment on his desk, and snatched it up, tucking it into his robes. "Something's come up. I'll be back within ten minutes. I'm trusting that you'll stay in some state of order, and that my classroom will be recognizable upon my return. Thank you for your cooperation."
"You sound like a flight attendant," observed a Muggle-born student.
There were several snickers, and he smiled fleetingly before retreating to Gryffindor Tower.
"Phoenix Feather." He scrambled through the hole. Harry had sounded desperate. He was probably crying. "Severus, there's no need for you to be in here. The Headmaster has granted Harry explicit permission to be out of classes today due to his current state."
"I hardly think that Professor Dumbledore should rule a minor injury not worthy of Poppy's attention means for a student to be absent."
"Severus, please don't meddle further in this affair." Lupin's voice was blasé, but his icy glare communicated the authority his tone lacked.
"You will make up the work missed in class at my convenience, Potter. I am still taking fifty points, and the homework will be turned in on time."
Receiving no reply, he turned and exited the common room, muttering something that sounded like 'like father, like son'.
Lupin turned his attention to the back of the chair. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly.
"I dunno…"
"I'm sure you do. If it's about Albus, or Sirius, or me, or anyone else, for that matter, hell, even girls, I'd be only too happy to hear about it."
"Does Sirius only give a damn about me because of who my father was?"
"Of course not!" Remus was shocked. He hadn't been expecting that. "Certainly, he only became involved in your life at all because of that, but I know for a fact that you're the world to him, and if you were an asshole he wouldn't care if you died. He thinks you're smart, brave…well, perfect. That's the way parents think, Harry."
"But he's not a parent!"
"He tries."
"He shouldn't!"
"Why not?"
"I mean, I appreciate it, but…I hardly ever see him, and when I do…"
"You talk about stuff you wish had never happened?"
"Well, yes…but you can't change the past…I don't mind that so much…it just doesn't feel right, I guess."
"Talking about it, or just having someone that cares?"
"Both."
"You're confused."
"I know it. But it almost seems like he's trying to shelter me."
"He worries a lot."
"That's good, then?"
"Very."
"I don't know him well enough…for him to be a parent, or anything close."
"Well, he is the closest you have, isn't he?"
"Absolutely."
"And don't you want one?"
"Kind of," he admitted.
"Well, what's your conception of a parent?"
"I'm not sure."
"May I sit down?"
"Yeah." Remus sat down, but had the decency not to look at him.
"Can I help you out?"
Harry shrugged, but realized that he wasn't looking at him. "Okay," he said uncertainly.
"Parents…not biological, mind, are…mine were…parents in general…that is….damn it, I'm starting over. Obviously, biological parents are the people who conceive you. Birthparents, etcetera."
"This isn't sexual education, Professor."
"Huh?"
"I spent several years at a Muggle school, learning about crap like that. STDs, 'family units', gender roles, AIDS, watching gay videos of stupid kids in Lycra pants taking steroids."
"Oh." He took a moment to process this information. "Meaning?"
"You don't have to worry about going over the whole 'sex' thing. It's been done. For the better part of five years."
"Well then. If the biological parents are unable to care for their offspring-"
"Stop trying to make it so politically correct. You're making them sound like squirrels."
Remus laughed. "All right. It'll be slightly more graphic, though. When the two people who get hot in bed can't care for their baby, either through accident (i.e. teen pregnancy), or design (i.e. murder)…the kid's sometimes adopted."
"You're not making a very convincing point here."
"I'm not?"
"Want to know what I've learned so far?"
"Share your wisdom."
"When two squirrels have a baby and they got pregnant as teenagers then they can't feed their baby because of a shortage of nuts (such as yourself) then baby go bye- bye."
"Are you insulting my teaching skills?"
"What else?"
He pretended to pout. "Do you even want to have this conversation?"
"For lack of anything better to do, sure, why not?"
"You say you learned about family units?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "That was the stupidest lesson in the class, and that includes the one on self-esteem. Blended, single parent, nuclear, extended, lalala."
"A parent is someone who cares about the baby squirrel until-"
"He gets fed up with the baby squirrel?"
"No! Until the baby squirrel can take care of itself!"
"You're saying that that big friendly doggie is going to leave baby squirrel the minute it hits seventeen?"
"No, Sirius wouldn't do that to you. After you move out of dependence, and you're on your own, he'll stay in touch, he just won't feed you or let you live off him unless you're in search of a job."
"Or I pay rent for the tree?"
"How the hell did you get squirrels out of the phrase 'hot?'"
"Because I don't like the idea of two people fucking like rabbits. And the nearest thing to rabbits are squirrels. And I don't want to live in a rabbit hole. And squirrels are prostitutes," he added as an afterthought.
"Prostitutes? What does that have to do with your parents?"
"You hinted that they were unable to support me because my mother became pregnant as a teenager."
Remus started laughing and couldn't get control of himself for a few minutes. "You're just not mature enough to handle this conversation."
"Yes, I am. But you sound like the mother in the video where the girl gets her period and she pulls out like ten boxes of pads. 'There's a slim pad for light flow days, a maxi pad for medium flow days, and a SUPER MAXI pad for heavy flow days! Some girls prefer to use one product, while others prefer to use separate depending on their needs! Some even wear a slim pad and a tampon for heavy flow! A tampon is inserted into the vagina by means of a plastic applicator tip-'"
"Harry, shut up."
"Fine. Aren't you supposed to be teaching a class?"
"Yes. I'm sorry, I have to go."
"Bye, and thanks."
"You're welcome." That was easier than I thought it would be. I wonder what Sirius finds so hard about it? He returned to the class, and finished a rather dull period dealing with theories behind magical law enforcement.
Feeling better?
Which way?
Either.
Both.
Can you walk?
A little. Still tired, though.
You should get some sleep.
No…not that kind of tired.
Hurting tired?
Yes.
You should, then.
I'm more bored than anything.
Do work for my class, then. Read chapter one.
Okay.
You still cold?
No…fire's warm. He walked to his dorm and picked up the
book. Lions and tigers and bears, oh
my!
What's wrong with my lesson
plans?
Nothing. This is rather dry.
Yes, but it's required. So stop complaining.
Don't blame me!
God, this is easy. Just point wand at threat, utter incantation, a crash of drums, a flash of light, scary thing flies out of sight…
I didn't know you liked
musicals.
I
hate them. Joseph and the Amazing
Technicolour Dreamcoat, Andrew Lloyd Weber, lyrics by Tim Rice…Holy shit. This is scary. That's not me.
I'd
realized.
Dammit! What do I do?
I
don't know. But you'll have to get used
to it.
Great. So now I can attribute moodswings to an
external source beyond my control?
That
seems to be the case.
Excellent! I can cuss out Snape and tell him it wasn't
me! Brilliant!
That
could count as abuse of your powers.
Damn. Anyway, back to your assignment…What are the
odds that any of us get sidetracked by a rampaging manticore?
Slim
to none.
Have
you even read the chapter?
Would
you believe me if I said yes?
No.
Well,
most of the people in your class-with exceptions, that is, couldn't handle most
of those curses. Patience, Harry. You'll have a problem course sooner or
later.
Too
true.
Have fun with your Potions
homework.
I will, don't worry. Harry sat at a desk, propped open the book. Suddenly, it all clicked. If…then it had to be in proportion…math! It had been his best subject. He had completed it in a matter of minutes. Wow. I didn't know that was so easy.
You're done
already?
Yeah. Legible, too.
I'll have to see
it to believe it.
Yup.
Since when do
you say 'yup'?
I don't! What the hell is going on? What if I say something like that out LOUD?
People would suspect.
No kidding.
Do you suppose
it could be something about the exorcist?
Maybe. I have a feeling that convincing him to stay is going to be a problem.
I think you'd
better learn to Apparate, then we can worry about that.
Apparition isn't going to be a problem.
All the
same. I wouldn't be surprised if Albus
manipulated your schedule so you have seventh year Charms, and possibly
Defense.
So what about 5th year, and the OWLS?
Teachers never
bother to explain that the OWLS aren't scholastic. It's based on magical ability. The first four years are about projecting it. That's the point of all the assignments-so you can get an
accurate reading.
I thought it was some monster exam.
It's nothing to
stress over if you're confident that you can perform the spells
confidently. All the same, it's a good
idea to do the work, as you still receive a final grade in each subject.
That's messed up.
The system is questionable, however, as it does determine your
career opportunities, it's preferable to score well. Take it from someone who knows. Damn. I have 7th year
Slytherins. I have to pay attention to
keep them under control. Can you break
off the connection or whatever you did earlier?
Easily.
I'll some
materials on Apparition to you later this evening, all right?
Okay.
You'll have to
read a lot for this stuff.
I'd realized.
How's that?
Sirius has an amazingly thick book about Necromancy. I highly doubt you haven't read it. I'm probably next on the list to read it.
Probably. Bye.
Bye. Harry sighed and leaned back in the armchair. What was he going to do for the next few
hours? He honestly didn't know. He didn't have any homework assigned yet,
other than what Lupin had mentioned, and that wasn't remotely interesting. Oddly enough, he had the notion that if
someone asked him any question about the texts, he'd be able to answer them
instantly. But the logical side of his
mind insisted that this was impossible, as he'd never read them. He didn't know what was happening, but he
was feeling that he somehow knew things that he shouldn't know, at least, not
for a few years. This wasn't akin to
the feeling that teenage Muggles often have, that they know way too much about
sex and drugs that's good for them at that age. No, it was different. Not
harmful, most likely very helpful to others, but all the same, odd. Information about subjects he'd never even
heard of, but he knew he could pull out at a moment's notice, like a rabbit
from a hat.
HHellH
