Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any characters related to J.K. Rowling's universe.
Author's notes: I'm sorry it has taken me a while to update. School and Colorguard have gotten in the way. I was surprised at the lack of response from my last chapter as opposed to my first. If any were offended by the language, that is not something I usually do. I just figured that Harry would respond to Snape in that manner considering he is 16 now and 16 year olds swear a lot. I know I and about 1600 of my fellow students did. The language will not be as grotesque from now on. Anyway, time to see how Remus is finally.
Chapter 3: Unexpected Discoveries
As Snape and Harry started their descent, Harry noticed something peculiar about his surroundings: everything looked absolutely normal. Apparently, there had been a neighborhood clean up project or something. The doors of the houses had been repainted, the piles of refuse were gone, the windows were all fixed, and the small square where they had landed on the first trip looked now like a jolly little garden with bright flowers. The neighborhood of Grimmauld Place was as picturesque as a small city neighborhood in the summer could get. The trees and grass were all vivid shades of green, and though the blue sky was still plagued by that small tint of brown that haunts every large city, the air smelled fresh and the sun shone brightly through the hazy wisps of cloud high up in the sky. The row of brick houses was no less imposing than a trip to the countryside, and all around there was a peace that Harry didn't feel the last time he had come here.
Of course, the last time he had flown to Grimmauld Place was at night, and when one is freezing and everyone else is acting like death could befall any minute, one tends not to like their surroundings in that moment.
Snape landed almost at the end of the street; being extra careful that no one was around. Harry landed a little bit behind. He dismounted and waited for some kind of sign from Snape to continue. After what seemed like an hour, the potion's professor finally waved at Harry to follow him and soon they found themselves at the hidden entry to number 12. The house inflated from between 11 and 13 just like last time, but Harry hardly recognized the newly repainted black door and the brand new golden lion door knob. Snape tapped the door twice with his wand, and Harry could hear the locks clicking and sliding to allow them entrance. As soon as they were inside, Snape turned, closed the door, and magically reset all the locks.
Harry looked upon the house that had belonged to his Godfather in awe. Nothing but the staircase was recognizable from what it had previously been. Bright, cheery torches now lit the newly painted hall, which looked as if it had been demolished and completely rebuilt. The walls, now free of their old portraits, were painted a deep burgundy with brightly painted tapestries and beautiful scarlet curtains. Harry noticed, to his satisfaction, that the portrait of Sirius' mother was now gone along with the heads of the house-elves. Along with these went the aging chandelier and gas lamps that had lit the house so dimly before. The ugly carpeting that had covered the floor was now replaced with richly stained hardwood, and the overall feeling was one of warm homeliness as opposed to the cold, secretive oppression that Harry remembered from what seemed now to be so long ago. Unfortunately, Snape, who had been residing there quite some time and hated every inch of the place, decided to snap Harry out of his revere.
Taking the disillusionment charm off of Harry, Snape stalked down the hallway saying to him, "Well, Potter, don't just stand there gawking like some slack-jawed yokel. Come on!" With that, he turned and entered the drawing room with Harry following closely behind, staring daggers all the while.
Once in the drawing room, he took a look around. All of the old tapestries were gone in this room, too, including "The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black" family tree. The walls were repainted a lovely shade of gold, and the ratty green curtains were replaced with gorgeous white lace. The only thing that remained was the old writing desk. Harry took a seat at the desk, which had contained the boggart that caused Mrs. Weasley so much distress the previous year and where he, the Weasleys, and Hermione had battled with a huge infestation of doxies; but memories of boggarts and doxies would have to wait for now as Snape was pacing the room staring intently at Harry the entire time. Harry noticed that his hair actually looked a bit cleaner than usual and that his skin was a little more tan than sallow. He continued to examine his professor a bit longer before the man finally stopped pacing and spoke.
"What the devil are you looking at, Potter? Are huge pus bulbs bulging out of my head? Are my teeth growing to the size of Roman pillars? Or are you admiring the truly handsome man that I am?"
Harry gagged openly, almost spilling the breakfast he was force fed that morning. "Absolutely not, you greasy bugger! I just noticed the greasy part seems to be a bit less than usual."
"Damn house is too clean's the problem. Dumbledore has insisted I live here these past two months. Too bright and cheery. I prefer my dungeon at Hogwarts thank you, not this torturous hell hole. The way it was before was much better. I feel like I'm in a flipping cage."
Harry chuckled. A cage? This place? But then again, Snape was never one for anything more than the darkest and dankest of atmospheres. Harry realized the change from his usual dim settings must have put an unwanted uplift to his mean, angry spirit.
"Serves you right, you git. Now you know how Sirius felt here last year. Bet it's not so fun now, eh? I'm glad Lupin's here to be a pain in your arse. I should just leave right now so he can continue annoying you to death."
"Yes, Potter, but I know you too well. Always rushing off to help your friends without any regards to rules or regulations. I'm surprised you didn't think of this sooner. As it is, I know you'll help your precious werewolf friend. It just wouldn't be the same mushy, righteous you if you didn't."
Unfortunately, Harry knew, Snape was right, but he wasn't about to admit that straight out, especially to the man he hated most. So, he opted for the quick way out. "Where is he?"
"Lupin? Oh, yes. He's upstairs somewhere. Just listen for the sobbing noises and you'll find him just fine. And do well, Potter. I would hate to have the both of you ruining my life for the rest of the summer."
"Oh, don't worry. I'll make sure the rest of your stay here is as unenjoyable as possible." Harry finished, with as bitter a tone as he could muster. He would make sure that man had an absolutely miserable time for the remainder of the summer, but right now, he had a more important matter to attend to.
Following Snape's advice, Harry started up the stairs; listening for any trace of crying or sobbing he could hear. He came to the first floor landing. Memories came flooding back as he passed the room that Ginny and Hermione had shared; memories of secret conversations and tense moments with extendable ears, hoping to catch some news from the Order. He couldn't here anything there so he continued on.
The second landing brought back more memories; of the joyous reunion of friends just after Harry had first entered the house that turned into a row which later he regretted dearly, the first happenings of the dreams that would connect Harry to Voldemort directly for the rest of the year, and the constantly annoying voice of Phineas Nigellus. Harry walked over the floor as if in a dream, trying not to let the memories overwhelm him. He stopped to regain his focus and listened for any noises that would betray Lupin's presence. Hearing nothing, he continued up the stairs to the third and final landing of the old manor.
Although it was darker up here than in the rest of the house, Harry could see everything clearly. He stopped and listened carefully. He heard a noise to his right, so he entered the door of what he remembered was Mrs. Black's old bedroom. He expected to find Lupin inside, but all he found was Buckbeak, solemnly scratching at the wall. This room had not changed since he had last been here, except the obvious claw marks where the hippogriff had shredded different pieces of furniture in sadness and rage. Harry walked toward the beast, and when it lifted its head, he bowed a low, humble bow. The creature, surprised at first by another presence in the room, paused for a second before bowing back. Harry approached him slowly and started rubbing his neck.
"I know, Buckbeak, I miss him too." He stroked the hippogriff's neck for a little while longer before returning to the landing to continue his search. Still not hearing any noise but the animal's scratching, Harry checked the other doors in the hall. He found another bedroom and the staircase leading to the attic before finally approaching the last door. He turned the knob slowly and went in. What he saw surprised him greatly. The room was plain with a small, brass bed, a curtained window and a roll top desk. Sitting at the desk with his head resting on it was Remus Lupin.
Thinner and shabbier than Harry had ever seen him, he looked as though an inch away from death. Silver-gray had claimed almost all of the light brown hair that hung thinly and loosely over his shoulders. Tear stains trailed down his young face where the lines of care and worry that the werewolf had always carried were so deeply carven that Harry thought he looked more like Dumbledore than the cheery young professor he'd once known at Hogwarts. He seemed to be asleep, but his breaths were sharp and ragged as if he was having a nightmare. After standing silently and studying the man for a while, Harry was taken aback when Lupin started mumbling, "Sirius… Harry… why… why… n-…no…no!"
Fresh tears began to streak down his face and Harry found that he had stared to cry as well. He still hadn't moved when Remus' mumbling turned into screaming. Then, he ran to his old professor's side and shook him gently.
"Wake up, professor, wake up! It's just a dream, professor, oh please wake up!"
At first it seemed Lupin wasn't going to wake, but Harry just shook him harder. Suddenly, his hands grasped Harry's shoulders and frightened, amber eyes stared piercingly into gleaming, green eyes; panic slowly retreating as realization dawned on the older man. A smile began to creep across his face as he remembered the face of his best friends' son. "Harry!"
"Hello, Professor," Harry whispered, still in slight shock from the sudden waking of the other man, "how are you doing?"
"Harry," Remus replied, smile still growing, "I haven't been your professor for over two years now."
"Oh, sorry. Um, what shall I call you then?"
"You could just call me Remus."
"Oh, all right, Remus," Harry said, feeling suddenly warm as the name rolled off his tongue for the first time.
"What are you doing here?" Remus asked with concern in his tone, "I thought you were supposed to be at the Dursley's."
"Well, I, um," Harry stammered. He realized he was a little embarrassed to admit the exact reason he was at number 12 Grimmauld Place. A slight blush rose to his cheeks, but he didn't reveal the real answer to Remus. "Dumbledore said it was okay for me to come, so Snape came today and brought me over." Harry then realized that Remus was still grasping his arms and he looked down.
Remus, following Harry's gaze, immediately let go of the boy mumbling and apology. "Sorry about that. You kind of took me by surprise."
"It's alright. You were having a nightmare. What was it about?"
Remus cringed a little at the question, but he told Harry anyway. "It was you, me, and Sirius in that room with the veil. He fell through and then I grabbed at you, but you were too quick and you went through too. I-I j-just started sc-sc-screaming a-and…" Here, he broke down into tears again and clutched at Harry like a little child. Harry just held him and stroked his back softly.
"It's all right," he whispered into Remus' ear, "it's all right. I'm here. I'm not running off anywhere, I promise."
Remus looked up into the younger man's eyes and saw that he meant it. "I'm sorry to burden you with my sadness, Harry. I just miss him so much. When he fell through, I had to be strong for you and the other children. I couldn't let my emotions take me over. After the whole ordeal, I felt so empty, so alone, like I had nothing left. I had lost all my friends. I thought you hated me for holding you back or for not going after Sirius myself. I'm so sorry. It was my fault. If I had just kept him at the house…"
"No, it's not your fault. If I hadn't rushed out to the Ministry in the first place none of this would have happened."
Remus gave a mirthless chuckle. "I guess we're both just fooling ourselves," Remus stated trying to collect himself, "In the end, there was nothing either of us could have done to stop it."
Harry didn't say anything for a moment. He had spent all summer convincing himself that Sirius' death was his fault, but now, holding this man in his arms who blamed himself as much as he did, he finally realized that maybe it wasn't anyone's fault. That it just happened that way. That maybe it was just because of Voldemort. It was still so hard to accept that, though. But wait, Harry thought, why would Remus think that I hate him. Even if they both took the blame for Sirius' death, Harry didn't blame Lupin for anything, and he especially didn't hate him. That was one thing he could definitely set straight.
"Remus, I don't blame you for any of this, and I don't hate you. I know that you were just protecting us. You had to. I know you've lost the same that I have, and I'm sorry I didn't think of you sooner. I was so wrapped up in my own grief, I forgot about you. I'm so sorry," he finished, tears again streaming down his cheeks.
"Don't be sorry, Harry. I knew how much it hurt you; that you thought no one else understood. I know that nobody else can truly understand what you're going through, but you're not alone Harry. You have such wonderful friends. And even this old fool is here for you, if you need me."
"Remus, you're not and old fool. You're a wonderful person and I'm so glad to still have you here. Please don't leave. Promise me. I'm so sick of people dying for me. I don't want to lose anyone else, especially not you."
"Harry, I can't replace Sirius…"
"I don't want you to replace Sirius!" Harry exclaimed, almost shouting, "I've never had a real father all my life. I don't need one now. I need a friend. Not like the friends I have at school, but someone who can share in what I've lost, and knows what I need…like you." Harry took a deep breath and calmed a little before he continued, "I know that I'll still see you as a connection to my parents and Sirius, but I've always liked you for who you are, and I know that you aren't any of them. I'll be happy just having you for you."
Remus was taken aback. He expected to have to father Harry now that James and Sirius were gone, and he was unsure if he'd really be able to do so. He thought that he'd be expected to replace the parents and godfather whom had all died so nobly protecting their child. But if this was what Harry wanted, he could definitely be that friend.
"All right, Harry. I won't be your father; I will be your friend. I can't promise I won't die for you. If I have to die so you'll live, then I will."
"What, just because of that stupid prophecy!? I'm sick of people dying for what I am to this world! I don't want it anymore!"
"Sirius didn't die for you because of some prophecy. He died for you because he loved you! I wouldn't give my life for you just because you can save the world. I would, I am giving my life for you because I love you too!"
Harry stared at the now almost breathless Remus in shock. He had not expected this show of devotion from the older man at all, and he didn't know quite what to think of it at that moment. Remus looked down in a way that implied he had revealed too much and removed himself from Harry's embrace. Standing and turning his back to the boy, he made a motion to the door. He was shivering like mad.
"I'm sorry for the outburst Harry. You can go now if you want to. I shan't trouble you more."
Harry just stood where he was not moving. His mind was swimming with all the new information, but he couldn't seem to decipher any of it. Why did Remus act like it was such a crime to admit he loved him? Wasn't that a good thing? Was it how he looked at Remus when Remus said it? He couldn't figure it out, but he wasn't about to let the matter drop. He just needed some time. Resolved in the matter, Harry slowly approached the other man and embraced him from behind.
"Don't be sorry you love me Remus, I'm not."
At this, Remus turned and stared wide eyed at the young man. He apparently had not expected Harry to accept his statement. A strange look crossed his face, and he started to lean in towards Harry, but then he jerked himself back and shook his head.
"Um, thank you Harry, for this," his voice sounded uneven, "Just please understand that I love you for who you are, not what you are."
"I do, Remus, and I'm sorry if I looked a little shocked. I'm not used to that kind of thing. I'll be here until school starts, so I hope we can get to know each other a little better before then. Just call me if you need me for anything."
"Same here, Harry, same here." Then Remus smiled a smile that seemed to take all of the years of worry and tiredness off his face.
Harry had never seen the man so carefree before, and something inside him began to think he looked absolutely breathtaking. Realizing what he was thinking, he quickly broke the hug and made for the door. "I'm just a bit hungry," he said, a faint blush rising to his cheeks, "I'll be in the kitchen, all right?"
"All right. Maybe I'll join you a bit later," Remus replied, looking just a little bit let down.
"All right." With that, Harry took one last look at his former professor and ran down to the kitchen, his mind screaming the entire time.
Another big thanks to all those who reviewed.
Next chapter, the plot thickens.