The next day, Harry felt very strange. He had never been in this position before. He was not unaccustomed to keeping secrets, of course, but this just felt – well – different. Remus was very important to him, more so since he had become the last of his father's real friends. He didn't think Pettigrew counted here, even if he had been a Marauder and was still alive.
Although Harry had withheld information from Remus before, it was never quite like this. For one thing, this was really about Remus, and it seemed a bit as though he were being disloyal, or betraying him somehow not to tell him. Harry had to go on acting as though everything were normal, when he knew that it wasn't, watching for the time when Remus would have to learn the truth, and all the while dreading the pain this would bring him. Remus was such a good man, and he had suffered too much already.
Harry thought he was doing a pretty good job acting normally, right up until the moment Ginny turned to him and said, very directly, "There's something going on, isn't there?"
Harry had been watching Remus, who was chatting easily with Bill Weasley in the lounge over after-dinner coffee, and didn't know how to respond.
"Wha – " he sputtered, "what makes you say that?"
Ginny's brown eyes were amused, "Really, Harry, I'm not stupid." Harry had no idea how to respond to that, but she seemed to take pity on him. "It's all right, I'm not going to push you to tell me about it. Just let me know if there's anything I can do." Then she patted his arm and walked away, leaving Harry gaping at her.
****
It was on the third day that Dumbledore told Remus. The Headmaster had taken to dropping by around tea time - ostensibly to check on Harry, who knew otherwise.
They were relaxing in the lounge when Harry saw Remus stop by the Headmaster's chair, softly voicing what was evidently an inquiry. Professor Dumbledore set his teacup down carefully on the table next to him before he replied. Harry couldn't hear what he said, but it brought a puzzled frown to Lupin's countenance. Then the Headmaster rose and ushered the younger man out of the room, his grave eyes meeting Harry's behind Lupin's back as they left.
Neither of them had returned to the lounge when it was time to go in to supper. Mrs. Weasley led everyone else into the dining room, and Harry ate his way mechanically through the courses, wondering where the Headmaster had taken Remus to talk and whether he was allowed to notice their absence. As no one else commented on it, neither did he.
After dinner, Harry joined the group settling down for the evening in the family room, pretending to read a book in the corner chair as he waited anxiously for Remus or Dumbledore to return. Bill had left immediately after the meal - Harry guessed he had a date with Fleur - and Hermione was playing Tournament with the three remaining Weasley offspring at the table by the window. Mrs. Weasley had excused herself to work on something in the potions lab, while her husband chatting with Alastor Moody by the fire. Sturgis Podmore was talking with Hestia Jones as her hands wandered softly over the keys of the parlor piano, and the light music dulled the sound of the others in the room enough for Harry to sink into a worried stupor.
The evening wore on with glacial speed. No one bothered Harry, who turned a page whenever anyone looked as though they might speak to him, but neither the Headmaster nor Professor Lupin returned. Finally Mr. Weasley and Moody decided to turn in for the night, and Harry rose thankfully as soon as they did and slipped out behind them.
The objects of his search were not in the lounge or the library, but Harry did catch sight of the house-elf Stade in the latter room. He was slowly adding a second cup that had been sitting on the low table in front of the fire to a small silver tray hovering beside him, and he looked rather grim.
"Excuse me," Harry began politely. "I was wondering if you know where I can find Professor Lupin?"
In Harry's admittedly limited experience, most of the house-elves he had known - including Stade - usually looked pleased to be of service, even a service as small as answering a question, but there was no evidence of this trait when Stade replied immediately, "Master Remus is upstairs, Sir."
"In his room? Thanks." Harry turned to go immediately.
"Master Remus is upstairs, Sir," Stade repeated. Harry frowned.
"Okay," he answered slowly, watching the house-elf carefully. "I'll go upstairs and see if I can find him." Stade nodded sadly and disappeared with his tray.
Puzzled, Harry headed upstairs and down the hall toward Professor Lupin's room. He had never been in it, but he knew it was the corner room at the end of the hall, so he followed the hall until he was directly in front of a single door and knocked lightly.
"Professor Lupin?" he called softly after a moment. Receiving no answer, he knocked more loudly. Still not receiving a response, he hesitated a moment before trying the door. It was not locked, so Harry went in.
"Professor Lupin?" he called again, pulling out his wand and muttering "Lumos" under his breath. Harry blinked slightly, seeing the enormous curved wall of glass that marked the corners of Stone House, dark now that night had fallen. The room was lovely and spacious - much larger than Harry's - and it had its own fireplace.
It was also obviously empty.
Harry groaned inwardly. Stade had said quite clearly that Remus was upstairs, where could he be if he wasn't in his room? Harry tried running through the layout of the house in his mind. Remus' room had to be over parts of the writing room and Catherine Clare's study. Tonks, Sturgis Podmore, and Hestia Jones were in this wing, but Tonks and Kingsley weren't here tonight, and Sturgis and Hestia were still downstairs. Actually, almost everyone who was here tonight was still downstairs, with the exception of Mr. Weasley and Moody, who were both in the opposite corner of the building near Harry's room.
As Harry was trying to puzzle this out, he realized that he was staring across the room at another door. This one was actually a double door, on the wall set at right angles to the single door he had entered. Annoyed with himself, he strode across the room to try it. It too was unlocked, and he emerged in another hall. Glancing to the left, he realized that it was actually a continuation of the same hall he had walked down before, it merely came around the corner of Remus' room to where he was standing.
This corner of the hall had some cozy looking reading chairs and a small sofa, but what caught Harry's attention was the walkway over the end of the ground floor hall. It culminated in another set of double doors, one of which was partially open. Before he even reached it, he knew that Remus was there.
For some reason, he didn't knock or call out this time. He just slipped quietly into the room. Professor Lupin was standing further in, motionless in the darkness. He didn't speak, or make any noise, but Harry had the oddest feeling that it was requiring a Herculean effort on his part simply to keep breathing. Frightened, Harry muttered "Lumos" again, his grip tightening on his wand.
"Harry?" Remus had turned and seen him. Harry was shocked by how fragile the former professor suddenly looked. He was used to thinking of Professor Lupin as consistently calm and capable. Harry didn't know how to reconcile that image with the one before him.
"Harry, whatever it is - can it wait?" His voice broke and he swallowed before he continued. "I don't think I can - "
Harry slipped his wand up his sleeve and hurried to clasp Remus' arm, leading him unresisting to one of the chaise lounges in front of the window. "I don't need anything," Harry told him, his voice unconsciously soothing. "I just came to see if there was anything I could do for you." Remus sat down obediently on the chaise where Harry had placed him.
"Do for me?" he echoed blankly. "There's nothing - "
Harry was sitting beside him, one arm firmly around Professor Lupin and the other still clasping one of his arms. He hesitated briefly, then said, "Dumbledore told me that Catherine Clare was overdue." He had tried to speak as gently as he could, but he could see that his words tore through Remus with excruciating force.
"Kate - I never - he said she didn't remember - I didn't know - " Incoherent, the stricken man couldn't continue, and started to sob.
They were not the tears of a child crying out its sadness, but the choking agony of a man suffering an unendurable pain, an anguish beyond words. Harry, his own heart aching for Remus' grief, simply held on to him. There was nothing else he could do. It seemed as though there was no end to Lupin's pain, but eventually he seemed to have exhausted his supply of tears. It was as if he stopped crying only because he lacked the strength to continue.
Still holding on to him, Harry fished a rather crumpled handkerchief out of his pocket with one hand and offered it to Remus, who wiped his eyes and made an effort to sit up straighter.
"I'm sorry, Harry," he apologized quietly. "You shouldn't have had to witness that." Harry shook his head.
"I'm glad I could be here," Harry told Remus firmly. "I only wish there was something I could do to help."
His father's friend closed his eyes in momentary anguish before he managed to respond, "Thank you." Already, grief had edged deep grooves around his eyes, which were swollen and oddly bruised. Professor Lupin also looked exhausted, as if he not slept in weeks even though Harry knew that he had.
"Do you think you can get some sleep?" Harry asked him, still speaking very gently. "Or would you like me to get you a potion?"
"No potions," Remus told him faintly. "I don't want to - " He was looking around the room in bewildered injury, and Harry instinctively followed his gaze. He had thought Remus' room was quite spacious, but this was much larger still, and Harry realized that it had to be Catherine's.
"Why don't you just lie down here and see if you fall asleep?" Harry suggested, rising and looking around for something to serve as a cover. Remus, looking oddly lost, swung his legs up docilely on the chaise and lay back. Harry spotted an extra blanket folded up at the end of Catherine's bed and he quickly retrieved it, snatching up a pillow as an afterthought.
He spread the blanket over Remus carefully, trying not to make it obvious that he was tucking the older man in like a child. Remus was looking at him rather anxiously.
"Harry, please don't - "
"I won't say anything to anyone," Harry vowed. "Just try and get some sleep," he added, handing over the pillow. Remus accepted it and was settling it under his head when fresh tears sprang to his eyes and he made an inarticulate noise.
With a wave of horror at his own insensitivity, Harry realized that he had inadvertently given Remus Catherine's pillow. The older man must have detected some faint trace of her scent on it.
Much to his amazement, Remus only turned the pillow sideways and rolled over to bury his face in it, wrapping both arms tightly around the softness. Then he was asleep as suddenly as if he had been hit by a Stunning Spell.
Harry slowly let out the breath he hadn't been aware he was holding since he realized what he'd done. He stood silently for a moment, watching Remus sleep, before he extinguished the lights. He made sure the doors to both rooms were closed before he retired to his own.
****
Remus came down for breakfast the next morning looking not too different from his usual self, if rather more tired and with a somewhat bruised look about his eyes. He smiled pleasantly at everyone, chatting normally with Arthur Weasley about the latest Ministry blunder reported in The Daily Prophet. He answered Hermione's questions about a point that concerned her in a practice N.E.W.T. she had been working on, and he drank his morning coffee quite normally.
Watching him today, Harry would never have imagined he was the same man who had sobbed himself into an exhausted sleep the night before. Harry did notice that Remus did no more than toy with his chocolate chip muffin, but Harry doubted he would have picked up on this if he hadn't seen the state Professor Lupin had been in only a matter of hours before. Harry felt a rush of admiration for his former teacher, aware for the first time of what incredible courage and strength it must take to present himself as he did, day after day, without regard to what he was feeling. Harry himself had not managed to conceal a smaller concern for even a day.
If Remus wanted everything to go on normally, then Harry would do his best to support that - and so he talked about Quidditch brooms with Charlie and Ron as he ate, trusting Remus to know he was willing to help him if needed.
****
Harry, Ginny, and Ron got in a little Quidditch practice with Charlie in the morning before lunch. Remus appeared as usual for lunch, although he once again barely touched his food - even the chocolate soufflé that had Hestia Jones enraptured and prompted even Hermione to take a second helping.
Later in the afternoon, Hermione joined Harry, Ron, and Ginny in the pool for another go at the game they'd improvised on his birthday. Harry thought he'd kept his mind sufficiently on the game to avoid letting the others know just how distracted he really was.
When the foursome returned to the house to change out of their swimsuits, they found the motherly little house-elf, Soma, in the central hall. She was carrying a large silver tray, evidently urging Professor Lupin to accept it, but he only smiled kindly at her as he shook his head before retreating into the library. Soma sniffed audibly, and the sound drew Hermione's attention.
"Soma, what's wrong?" she asked, hurrying over with the other three following in her wake.
Soma gestured with her tray as though it was the obvious explanation. When Harry stopped beside her and could see the contents, he blinked at the confusing plethora of brown food. In addition to a cup of warm, frothy hot chocolate steaming fragrantly next to its own little teapot, there was a wide selection of comestibles – all of them chocolate. There were several types of brownies, from cake-like to fudgey, some decorated with thick chocolate icing or chocolate shavings, and a similar selection of chocolate biscuits. There were two delectable wedges of chocolate cake with different icings surrounded by exquisite chocolate confectionery from chocolate caramels to truffles to tiny meringues.
"They look wonderful," Hermione said kindly, which was very good of her in view of the fact that both of her parents were dentists.
"Yeah, really great," Ron added enthusiastically. Soma handed him the tray immediately, still looking forlorn.
"Master Remus wouldn't eat anything," she told them dolefully, her expression tragic.
"Er, maybe he wasn't hungry," Ron suggested.
"Master Remus is unhappy," Soma insisted, clearly very upset herself. Hermione looked as though she were trying to think of something reassuring to say as the house-elf's expression suddenly became resolved.
"He needs pie!" Soma gave a decided nod after making this pronouncement, as though a difficult question had been settled, and disappeared with a pop.
"Pie?" Ron said in amazement, staring at the bounty of chocolate he was holding.
"If he ate all that, what he'd need is insulin," Hermione murmured abstractedly, her forehead creased in concentration.
"What's insulin?" Ron asked, curious. Hermione opened her mouth, possibly to launch a discourse on the subject of insulin, when Ginny inserted herself deftly into the conversation.
"I'm more concerned about Professor Lupin," she said firmly. "Why is he upset?"
"Is he upset?" her brother responded. "He looked fine just a minute ago."
"He's pretty good at concealing his feelings," Hermione pointed out. "He's been looking more, well, tired the last couple days, but I didn't realize it was anything serious."
"Is it?" Ron asked. "Just because he's been looking tired? He never really looked full of beans to begin with, probably because of – " Ron looked decidedly uncomfortable at this point "well, you know," he finished awkwardly.
"Judging by the amount of chocolate, it is pretty serious, and I think Soma would know," Hermione concluded.
Inwardly torn, Harry spoke. "I think the best thing to do is to wait and see if it's something he wants to share." Ron's mouth, which had been busy sampling one of the biscuits, fell open. Hermione and Ginny both looked at Harry very sharply, and he concentrated on trying to look normal.
Ron swallowed quickly and said, "You're always complaining when they don't tell us stuff, what's with the 'wait and see' bit?"
Harry, feeling like a traitor, responded, "We don't know that this has anything to do with Voldemort. Whatever is upsetting Professor Lupin could be personal."
Hermione and Ginny exchanged a speaking look before Hermione had to reach out and steady the tray of chocolate. It was wobbling dangerously on one of Ron's hands, the other still holding the rest of the biscuit he had plucked from it.
"Really, Ron, just set it down somewhere," Hermione directed in exasperation. Ron shrugged.
"If all we're doing is waiting, we may as well be comfortable," he said pragmatically, heading for the lounge with Hermione helping to support the overflowing tray.
"This is what you were worried about, isn't it?" Ginny asked Harry very directly. Harry stared at her in amazement.
"How did you – " he stopped abruptly. "I mean, it isn't – I can't – "
"Is there anything we can do?"
"Umm, no, not – "
"Okay." Ginny took his arm and gently steered him toward the living room where Ron and Hermione were picking over the chocolates. "Let us know if we can help."
****
Catherine's brother had to be notified.
Remus, hoping he might be of some service to him, acceded to Dumbledore's request that he be present when Michael was informed about the situation. They met in the library, and Michael Clare received the news that his sister was overdue on a mission for the Order with concern. There was very little either the Headmaster or Remus could think of to say however, and the interview was correspondingly brief. It was Michael who drew their conversation to a close and walked out into the hall to stare up at the fountain.
After a short silence, Dumbledore excused himself, leaving Remus and Michael alone in the central hall. Remus tried to think of something appropriate to say to Catherine's closest relation, but Michael was the first to speak.
"At least we know she's still alive," he said quietly.
"We – " Lupin's voice broke and he steadied it before trying again. "I'm glad you understand that we haven't given up hope." Michael smiled slightly and turned to look directly at Remus.
"You don't understand, do you? We know Catherine's still alive, it's not just hope," he told him calmly, sympathetic green eyes meeting anguished amber ones. "She never explained about the fountain, did she?"
"The fountain?" Remus asked, bewildered by the change in subject. "You mean about the cats defending the house when it's under attack? I knew about that, although I never did understand why their letting me out of the house upset her so much."
Michael looked at him very sharply indeed. "So they listen to you, do they?" Then to Remus' great surprise, Michael chuckled. "I suspected that they might decide to one day, but I didn't realize that they already had."
"I'm sorry, I don't understand what - "
"The Stone House cats are quite independent, you see," Michael told him, nodding toward the central fountain with a trace of gentle amusement lingering in his eyes. "It's a big advantage in many ways - they'll defend Stone House whether the head of the house is available to give instructions or not - but with that comes the possibility that they will do the unexpected. Catherine has never controlled them - none of our line ever has - although it may look that way to an outsider. I don't think you can ever really control a cat. They may choose to listen to you, but that's not the same thing."
"But how do you know she's alive?" Remus demanded, focusing on the only thing that really mattered.
"Because the panther is still on top of the fountain," Michael told him. "When there's a new head of Stone House, the cat best suited to that person takes charge. I don't know how they decide that - I'm not sure I want to know - but I do know that as long as the panther is on top of the fountain, Catherine is still alive. When Catherine dies, the panther will step down and another one of the cats will take over."
Remus stared at the stone panther, his heart pounding in his chest. "So you weren't just saying that? She really is alive?"
Michael put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'm not just saying that, Remus. She's really alive." Remus drew a shuddering breath, and Michael patted his back in sympathy.
"I'm told it was the lion while my grandfather was alive," Michael continued thoughtfully, and Remus was grateful for the chance to compose himself. "I never saw it, of course – he died before I was born – but Cat says she remembers it. It's supposed to be a family secret, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't spread it around – although I expect we've been a bit optimistic about just how secret it really is. It's a little hard to pretend that every time the head of the house dies, their successor's first instinct is always to redecorate, and always starting with the fountain," he pointed out wryly.
"I see your point," Remus admitted. Over the last few days, he had become accustomed to the painful tightness in his chest, and he was surprised to find that it has eased just a little.
Michael regarded him for a moment, before asking gently, "Better now?" Remus flushed.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to – " Michael waved away his apology, but Remus tried again. "We should all be supporting you at this time – "
"I'm afraid that I've had quite a bit of practice at having my sister in danger. I can't say I've gotten used to it – " Michael looked rather shrewdly at Remus, "I'm not sure you can get used to it enough to actually stop worrying – but I have learned how to cope with it without going crazy. At least when it's Cat – I think I'd be a basket case if it were Maggie." It took Remus a moment to absorb the significance of the last comment and the way Michael was looking at him.
"Oh, no, we're not – I mean, we haven't – I haven't – "
"You're not in love with Catherine?" Her brother was surveying him with a combination of skepticism and sympathy that made lying impossible. Remus closed his eyes against it and gathered his composure. When he opened them again, Michael was still regarding him with patient kindness.
"I would like to think that I can claim the honor of being her friend." Remus was astonished to hear that his voice was fairly steady. "Whatever my feelings for her, I would never presume there could be more than that."
Michael lifted a brow in inquiry. "Why ever not?" he asked, a touch of amusement in his voice. Remus realized, with an odd sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, that he was going to have to explain why he was hopelessly ineligible as a suitor.
"Never mind, it wouldn't make any difference anyway," Michael was telling him kindly. "Unless you've already got a current wife somewhere – although I really don't think my sister would approve of that – the only opinion that really matters is hers."
Remus found his voice. "I'm not sure you understand. You see, I – "
"Please don't explain it to me. Save the explanations for Catherine, when she comes home," Michael directed very firmly. "Speaking of which, I had better get home myself." He started walking toward the lounge. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to stop by and check in from time to time?"
Remus realized, puzzled and still off-balance, that Catherine's brother was waiting for permission to visit his sister's home from someone who could hardly claim to be anything more than a house guest. "No, of course not, any time."