Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to Mélody Potron, whose kind email inspired me to hurry up and finish this dang chapter. ^_^
Chapter 15: The Meeting
Harry woke up that Sunday, and decided right away to go back to sleep. Yet something gnawed uncomfortably inside him, as though he really should get up. For a while, he lied on his stomach, his chin in his pillow, staring at the wall and trying to remember whatever it was he was supposed to do.
A cool breeze came in through an open window, rustling his bed curtains. A sliver of sunlight flashed in his eyes, causing him to look over. As the curtains swayed with the wind, the opening between them came and disappeared, and he watched the sun peeping in on him. It was very bright; it must be late. Late. He was late…for the meeting!
The peacefulness of lying in bed was quickly shattered. Harry tore open the curtains, scrambling out of bed. As he rushed to get dressed, he glanced out the window. The sun was high; it had to be climbing near noon, and he was supposed to be there at eleven. Silently cursing himself, he pulled on his robes and glanced in the mirror. The image looking back wasn't that encouraging, but he just pulled a hand through his mussed mane and ran out the door.
After quickly shaking off an eager Dennis Creevey, who had recently taken up his older brother's favorite hobby, and then practically plowing through a congregation of third year girls in the middle of the corridor, he reached Dumbledore's office, and outside stood Azar, James, and Draco. If he thought such a sight would be comforting, however, he was wrong. Draco was leaning against the wall, wand in hand and lazily levitating a small stone. He was wearing his dress robes, and his hair looked slicked back flatter than usual. Harry didn't even want to think what he looked like in comparison. Azar and James were nearby, Azar apparently explaining something that had to do with escaping a choke hold. Azar looked great, though Harry could never imagine her looking anything but. Even James seemed to have taken great care with his appearances that morning, though he looked more like a nervous choirboy than the grown professionals that Azar and Draco did. The three looked up as Harry arrived, panting heavily.
"About time, Harry," Draco said, standing up straight and letting his stone fall, "We were about to give up on you and declare Longbottom Gryffindor's heir."
"Funny," Harry replied, still trying to catch his breath.
"Here," Azar said, standing him up straight.
She took his tie, loosening it and tossing the tail over his shoulder, then rapidly mussed his hair, his sweat causing it to stand up.
"There," she smiled, "That's the Harry I know."
"Ah, come off it," he grinned, righting his tie and hair, "I slept in, okay?"
"So that's what's been holding you all up."
They turned to find Sirius, standing in the gargoyle's doorway. "I was beginning to think you'd all forgotten."
"No, just waiting for the Flobberworm here," Draco said, jerking a thumb at Harry.
"Hey, I resent that!" Harry cried.
"Yeah!" Azar chimed in, "Harry is clearly longer than ten inches."
"Thanks for the backup, Azar."
"Anytime."
Sirius grinned, shaking his head. "Well, if that's over with, you should probably come up now. We want to begin."
The five of them headed through the gargoyle's door and onto the moving staircase. Harry felt something quivering near his arm, and found that it was James. Reassuringly, he put a hand on the boy's shoulder. They got to the top of the stairs and walked through the door to Dumbledore's office. Even Azar was a little taken aback with what they saw. The small office was, putting it mildly, extremely crowded. Every chair was taken, every space filled; walking around was a feat all its own.
Harry began examining faces, trying to discern those he knew. There was Remus, of course, who'd just walked over to them and was speaking with Sirius; Dumbledore; Connerly; Arabella Figg; Juniata Snape; and Mr. Weasley. There was also a woman with dark hair who looked very much like she could be the mother of Bella Arroz, one of Gryffindor's Chasers. Everyone else was completely new to Harry.
"Well would you look at this lot!" a voice boomed suddenly, laughing. The origin was a tall man, about fifty years of age. He had short, scruffy sandy-colored hair, speckled with gray, and a mustache to match. A large nose took up a considerable part of his round, ruddy face and his small, dark eyes seemed almost swallowed up by crowfeet, placed there permanently by more than his fair share of laughing. With a grunt, he pulled his far from petite build out of an armchair and walked towards the four students.
"Bringing 'em in a bit young now, eh Albus?" he chuckled, nudging the headmaster jovially, "Not even graduated."
Sirius stepped forward, his eyes far from sharing the man's smile. "These happen to be the Hogwarts' Heirs, Mundungus," he said stiffly, "my godson, Harry Potter, among them."
"Ah, yes, Harry Potter," Mundungus said, glancing at the boy's forehead, "I figured he'd worm his way in somehow someday. Always does, eh Harry?"
The man again gave that booming laugh, clapping Harry roughly on the back. Though he acted jovial and lighthearted, there was a certain edge to the man's voice that reminded Harry strongly of Snape. He knew right then that he didn't like the man, and had a feeling that the sentiment was mutual.
"Harry, may I introduce Mundungus Fletcher," Dumbledore said, indicating the burly man with a slight smile, "I see you know of Harry, Mundungus. This is Azar Zundel, Draco Malfoy, and James Bell."
"Malfoy?" Fletcher said, raising an eyebrow, "Lucius' son?"
"Yes," Draco said, standing up straighter and slitting his eyes, "You have a problem with that?" Harry could tell the boy felt the same way about Fletcher as he did.
"No, nope, no," the man answered, conviction lacking in each denial.
Fletcher looked Draco up and down thoughtfully, not even attempting to hide the fact that he was suspicious of the boy and probably anyone who held the name of Malfoy. He kept his mouth shut, however, deciding there were better objects to poke fun at.
"Well, Mr. Bell," he said, turning towards James and crinkling up his eyes once more, "looks like you were dealt the short straw, pun most definitely intended." Again that booming laugh came, an occurrence so common that it was already becoming an annoyance in Harry's mind. "You are younger than the others? What year?"
James went red, far from ready to speak to someone with such a commanding presence. "S-second," he whispered.
For some reason, Fletcher seemed to find this hilarious. "That is young! I thought seventh year was early, Albus, but that's just recruiting them from the crib! I'll bet you feel out of your league, right lad?"
James blushed even deeper, suddenly finding his feet extremely interesting.
"Actually," Azar said firmly, stepping up to Fletcher, "James is quite a good wizard, for any age. He's also kind and strong. I'd say he's right on the level with everyone here. Above some even."
Fletcher looked her up and down in the same scrutinizing manner he had Draco. "No need to get your bloomers in a bunch, lass," he said, a distinct tone of dislike in his voice, "I was just asking how he felt, not stating a fact. You probably feel out of your league, too."
Azar narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "And what is that supposed to mean?"
"Simply that someone of your…stature would feel out-of-place among these three, who seem a bit more aptly fitted to their positions."
"Well, I assure you, I feel very comfortable here. I happen to be the top student in my year," she said with dislike, clouds coming to her eyes, "And if you think that—"
"You know, there are some people," Fletcher interrupted, looking at Azar as though she was five years old, "that are better in sight than sound."
Azar's face flared in an anger unlike any Harry had ever seen before. Fletcher, however, seemed merely amused at this, almost willing her to say something so he could counter it. Remus, however, tactfully intervened.
"You know, Mundungus, I've been wondering: how do you keep those prisoners without Dementors?" he said, quickly steering the man to the opposite side of the room.
Sirius shook his head, then got in a conversation with Dumbledore, walking away. Azar stared after the formers, her furious eyes never leaving Fletcher's retreating figure.
"Harry, take my wand from me," Azar said through gritted teeth.
"What? Why?" he asked. He hadn't even realized she'd pulled it from her robes.
"Take the wand away from me," she repeated tensely, "before I blast that man into the Atlantic."
Harry didn't need to be told a third time. "I'm sure he meant nothing, just another joke," he assured her, after securing the wand, "I mean, a friend of Dumbledore's wouldn't say anything to demean muggleborns."
"Oh, he meant it," Azar scoffed, "but he wasn't talking about my being muggleborn, though I wouldn't put it under the scum-sucking water rat. Anyone of my 'stature' would know what he meant."
Harry went wide-eyed, glancing at Draco for help.
"Women, Harry," he said matter-of-factly, "Fletcher was saying that because Azar is a woman, she is inferior. My father was the same way."
"Don't say that, Draco, or I might start hating you because of your father," Azar said stiffly, still staring daggers at Fletcher.
"Join the party," Draco said with more than a note of bitterness, following Azar's gaze.
"Your attention please!" Dumbledore suddenly called over the chatter. Everyone quickly fell silent. "Thank you," he continued in his placid way, "As it seems everyone has arrived, I think it best we begin. Remus?"
Remus stepped forward, pulling out a piece of parchment and adjusting his reading glasses. "Yes, well," he started, clearing his throat, "Sadly, the Brocklehurst home was targeted this week."
A series of distressed murmurs rippled through the group, all eyes turning to one woman in the room. A couple people patted her on the back as she stood resolute.
"Thankfully, we had already evacuated the family and no one was hurt. This is due in a large part to the information given to us by our insider," Remus said, indicating a figure leaning against the wall.
Harry looked over at the man, a little unsettled. The figure was wearing a black cloak, the hood completely hiding his features. He wondered why Remus called him 'our insider' instead of saying his name.
"The whole family is now in hiding-"
"Not quite all of us," the woman spoke up.
Remus smiled slightly. "No, Miranda is still out and about. The better for us, naturally."
"Too right!" Miranda exclaimed.
Any worry or distress remaining faded from the group of people, everyone smiling or chuckling.
"Well, on that note, any more news for us?" Remus asked, turning to the dark figure.
"Nothing specific, though he seems to be planning something," said a voice that Harry could swear he knew, "He is getting a bit suspicious; with all his planned victims disappearing, I mean."
"Of you?" Dumbledore asked firmly.
"No, not of any one person thankfully," he went on, "Just overall. I'll keep my eyes and ears open, as always."
Remus nodded. Harry stared at the figure; where did he know him from?
"Well then, Sirius, how are talks with France going?" Remus continued.
"Swimmingly," Sirius said calmly, "Madam Maxime has been invaluable, and so has one of her former students, Fleur Delacour. She seems to have a special affinity for England, and knows people in high places. She's also very good with persuasion, making some hang on her every word."
Harry laughed to himself, wondering if Sirius knew the half of it.
"How about you, Maria?" Remus went on, turning to the woman with dark hair Harry had noticed before, "Is Spain coming around?"
"Not really," she sighed, "At least they're not even considering Voldemort's side. They're just so cautious. I'm beginning to think you gave me this assignment as a punishment."
"No, I would have asked you to talk with Switzerland if I wanted to punish you."
Maria just smiled, shaking her head.
"How about Germany?" he asked, turning to another person.
"Just need the paperwork."
"Good. Italy?"
"Behind us all the way!"
Remus smiled. "Excellent. Those are all the European ministries in question, correct?"
Dumbledore nodded.
"Well then, that's all the unfinished business from the last meeting," Remus said, stepping down.
"Mundungus, any news from the captives?" Dumbledore asked, turning to Fletcher.
"No, they've closed up pretty tight," he replied, "Or run out of information to give. We'll see."
Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "On to new business then. During this past week, I informed the four Heirs of their birthright, and so they are here today."
He indicated where the four friends stood, every eye in the room turning towards them. Harry felt his face getting a bit hot. James had gone stiff. The four slowly stepped forward, James with a bit of help from Azar, and faced the crowd.
"May I introduce," Dumbledore continued, "Harry Potter of Gryffindor, Azar Zundel of Ravenclaw, James Bell of Hufflepuff, and Draco Malfoy of Slytherin."
The whole room filled with silence, in awe, unsure. Then Sirius and Remus began to applaud. The noise gradually spread through the room, until every single person was clapping. Harry felt the nervousness drain right out of him.
"Yes, yes, yes," Dumbledore eventually intervened, holding up a hand for silence, "We all know their importance in times like these. At the moment, however, they still have much to learn. And much to teach." The Headmaster's eyes sparked with enjoyment at his private joke. "I ask all of you to help them when they ask, to guide them with your wisdom, but also not to underestimate them. Before us we have four young people who could possible hold the power to make all of this worthwhile; so that none of us have fought in vain."
Harry looked slowly around the silent room. Everyone seemed to be standing taller, their faces set with determination. He felt the nervousness gnawing at his stomach again, but this time it was different. There was something in the way Dumbledore spoke that made him straighten his back. He was frightened, yes, but that didn't matter. He had a job that had to be done, and that made all the difference in the world. Harry realized then why Dumbledore was stronger than Voldemort, and not just magically. Voldemort used fear and pain to create an army of followers. Dumbledore used words that inspired strength and determination. Inspiration was a more determined fighter than terror.
"Well," Dumbledore spoke up again, drawing everyone from their thoughts, "I do believe that is all. Be sure to receive your assignments from Remus before you leave. Oh, and a reminder, it is the Shrieking Shack. It seems some simply said 'the Shack' last meeting and ended up in the fireplace of some poor hermit wizard, so do try to avoid that. Thank you."
With that, talk slowly grew in the room, many people standing, a few heading over to speak with Remus. Harry began looking around again, trying to recognize faces. On the far side of the room, where he hadn't moved from, stood the figure with the dark cloak. Harry knew he recognized the voice from somewhere, and was determined to find out who the wizard was. Leaving Draco and Azar chatting pleasantly, he walked towards the man, moving around the groups of people. The closer he got, the more he tried to see under that dark hood and find a face, but it seemed fruitless. In fact, he realized as he was nearly right next to the man, it was no normal hood. It was almost as if a black veil had been draped over the man's face. Before Harry had much of a chance to wonder about this, however, the figure turned to him.
"Oh, hello Harry," the man said cheerily.
Harry stared at him, or rather that dark expanse where the face should be, and tried to place the voice. It sounded so familiar, especially the jovial greeting.
"Lee?" he said, unsure.
"Who did you think?" the figure laughed, "I haven't really cha— Oh, yeah, sorry, forgot about that."
The figure glanced around, making sure his back was to the full room. He reached a leather-gloved hand up to his hood, and suddenly the darkness was gone, revealing a face that, though changed, was definitely that of Lee Jordan.
"Lee! What are you doing here?" Harry asked, surprised to see the boy that used to seem like the third Weasley twin.
"Sh, not so loud," Lee hushed, "My identity's something of a secret, even among resistance members. Just a caution, you know, but a good one."
Harry furrowed his brow slightly. "Caution? For what?"
"Harry, what're you-" Azar said, coming over and then seeing who he was talking to, "Lee Jor—!"
Lee promptly clapped a hand over her mouth. "Blimey, what is with you people?" he said, exasperated, "Is yelling out a person's name when you see him the newest fad or what?"
"I was just surprised to see you, that's all," Azar said as an apology.
"Well, I'm trying to keep a low profile—"
Azar laughed. "You? Keeping a low profile?"
"Unbelievable, isn't it?" Lee grinned, "The world is surely coming to an end."
"Apparently," Azar replied, "You cut your dreads off."
"Yeah," he said, touching his now shortly cropped hair wistfully, "I sort of had to. Voldemort doesn't like his followers looking 'different'."
"Voldemort's followers?"
"Relax, Harry," Azar assured him, "He's a spy for the resistance. Right, Lee?"
Lee nodded. "Been so for awhile now. Seemed the only thing I could do to help."
Harry glanced at him, feeling a bit awkward. "So do you have…well, you know," he said, slightly indicating his left arm.
Lee pulled back the sleeve of his left forearm. There, a dark etching on the light brown of his underarm, was a tattoo of the Dark Mark.
"Oh, Lee," Azar sighed, looking at him sadly.
He shrugged. "It's worth it, though. I'm actually saving people's lives. There's nothing greater than that."
"How exactly-" Harry began to ask.
"Ah, curtain time," Lee said suddenly, touching the inside of his hood again and causing the black shade to hide his face once more.
Before Harry could even ask why, Draco came up to them.
"Er, hello," he said, glancing at Lee a little warily.
"Hey Draco," Harry said, "We were just talking with Lee-"
Azar promptly jabbed him in the side with her elbow, but too late. Lee drooped his head, holding it in his hand.
"Great, just great," he sighed, "I hesitated, but nooo. I can trust Harry, I thought. Harry won't tell anyone, I thought. And then you go and tell the bloody Heir of Slytherin."
"Sorry, it just came out," Harry quickly apologized, "But he probably doesn't even remember you, do you, Draco?"
"That jackass Quidditch commentator who graduated a few years ago?" Draco said, clearly not pleased with how he entered the conversation, "Of course I remember him."
"But he doesn't even know about your job, do you, Draco?" Harry insisted.
"What, that he's a spy?"
Harry was feeling more and more rushed to justify himself to Lee. "But he won't tell, will you, Draco?"
Draco's eyes narrowed slightly. "Why is it everyone finds it necessary to make sure I won't give away secrets? I thought I was trustworthy by now."
"Of course you are," Azar said firmly, "You should know better, Harry. Draco would never endanger someone in the resistance."
"I wasn't even suggesting—" Harry sighed. "Oh, I give up. Lee, don't worry, he won't tell."
Lee glanced at Harry and Azar, then looked back at Draco suspiciously. "It's Draco Malfoy, isn't it?"
Draco didn't even bother to mask his anger. "Yes, it is, though that name is about the only thing I inherited from my father."
Lee shrugged. "Why should I care who your father is? All I know is that the last time I was at Hogwarts, you and Harry were mortal enemies."
Draco's look softened, but not by much. "How do you know we're not anymore?"
Lee put a hand on his hip. "Well, you sure don't look it."
"Things aren't always what they seem. You should know that," Draco said, folding his arms, "Someone who smiles and laughs good-naturedly might someday plunge a dagger in your back, while someone who stares at you with ultimate loathing could save your life. Looking past intentions and presumptions is the only way to judge people. You must not be much of a spy if you can't do that."
Lee was silent a moment. Harry wished he could see his face, wondering what effect Draco had made. Suddenly, Lee chuckled light-heartedly. "You," he said, pointing absentmindedly at Draco, "are one strange kid."
"I'm no 'kid'," Draco replied evocatively, "I'm out in the open, face-to-face. I'd think a child would be more likely to hide behind a dark veil."
Lee laughed again. "I'd love to refute that, mate, but I must be off. Duty calls, you know." He started towards the fireplace, the room now almost empty. " 'Bye, Harry. Farewell, my fair Azar."
"And to you, my brave Pimpernel," Azar smiled.
Once Lee was out of earshot, Harry nudged Draco. "What was that all about?"
Draco shrugged. "I felt like pushing a few buttons, since everyone seems to insist on pushing mine."
"I didn't know you had any buttons," Azar said, looking him up and down.
"None that I like to show," he replied, "And I was speaking metaphorically, so don't say anything smart."
"Speaking of which," Harry interrupted, "I have a Potions essay to finish for tomorrow. Care to take our exit?"
"Gladly."
"Sure. Now where did James…oh no," Azar moaned, having spotted James talking to Fletcher. Or rather Fletcher talking to James. "Well, I guess we'd better rescue him."
"Why does he seem to insist on making James nervous?" Harry sighed.
"He likes to belittle people," Draco replied simply.
Azar shook her head in disgust. "Yeah, probably to make himself feel big."
"He looks plenty big to me," Draco snorted.
"Doesn't mean he's big in other places," Azar said innocently, walking off.
"Ugh, Azar, no mental pictures, please," Harry groaned.
"I can't imagine what you mean. Where is your mind, Mr. Potter?" Then she turned to the approaching figures. "Oh there you are, James! We lost you in all this mess. Sorry to rid you of a conversation buddy, Mr. Fletcher, but we really must be off. Schoolwork, you know."
She took James' hand, as if to tell Fletcher they were leaving that instant. He didn't take the hint, however.
"Can't imagine why a pretty little thing like you would worry her fluffy head about things like schoolwork," he chuckled.
James gave a small, strangled cry, and Harry quickly released him from Azar's suddenly tightening grip. He stepped in front of her to talk to Fletcher himself.
"Actually, Azar does very little worrying over schoolwork, for it comes so easy to her. It's the rest of us that need to get to work. And we also wouldn't want to take up any of your time."
"Ah, yes," Fletcher grunted importantly, "Well, just let me give you some advice: Don't let this whole Heir business swell your heads and stop you from doing real work. Of course, just ask Harry on this. I'm sure he's had plenty of experience on keeping down a swelled head."
Fletcher gave his booming laugh, slapping Harry on the back, then turned and headed for the fireplace.
"I don't like that man, and I don't think he likes me either," Harry said, glancing at Fletcher's turned back, then heading out of the office, "He doesn't show it, but I can just feel it."
"As my father once told me, it is not prudent to appear less than fond of Harry Potter," Draco said, wearing a small smile.
Harry grinned back. "To think he was once giving that advice to keep you from badmouthing me," he replied with a something of a laugh.
Draco raised an eyebrow. "How do you know?"
"I never told you? I was there."
"What? Where?"
"Knockturn Alley, before our second year. In a cupboard."
Draco looked amused. "You'd be dead right now if my father had found you."
"Don't I know it," Harry laughed.
"What were you doing in a cupboard, anyways?"
"I was just about to ask the same thing," Azar said, smiling.
"Hiding from Draco, actually."
Azar clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, shaking her head slightly. "The things you boys used to get into. I wonder how you ever got on without me."
"Quite well, actually," Harry smiled.
Azar gave him a poorly faked perturbed look, replying simply, "Before your second year, you say? Wasn't that the year you were attacked by a killer diary?"
James and Draco stared at Harry, Draco looking as if he was trying to determine whether or not it was a joke.
Harry shrugged, trying to hold back a laugh. "I guess you could call it that."
"Honestly, you'd think I'd know more about what happens in my own school," Draco said, shaking his head, "So what happened? Go poking your nose in where it didn't belong? Someone have a biting charm on their diary?"
"Remind me to tell you the whole story some time," Harry replied, "I'm surprised someone who had such interest in the whole thing doesn't even know what happened."
"Well we can't all be the school favorite," Draco grinned, not without a hint of bitterness.
"Correction," Harry said, holding up a finger, "Most people fit into one of three categories: admiration, brown-nosing, or wanting more than anything to shove their wand up my…" He glanced at James. "Well, where Lumos'll do no good."
"Ooh, I pick number three," Azar said enthusiastically.
"Tell her what she's won, Johnny!" Draco exclaimed in a voice remnant of a game show host. Or Gilderoy Lockhart.
"You two get along far too well," Harry said with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes, well James and I must be off," Azar announced, taking James by the wrist, "He's got this Gryffindor prat bugging him, so I'm going to show him a few moves."
James glanced at the two boys with wide eyes as she led him off.
"Sorry, you're on your own with this one, Jimmy!" Draco called, laughing.
"It's nice to see you in such a good mood," Harry commented as they headed off.
"Don't worry, it won't last long," Draco grinned.
"You did have me a bit worried there, after…well, you know."
"Oh, Fletcher," Draco said, shrugging it off, "He's just a pompous arse. I can live with that."
"No I mean, before today… after your mum…"
Draco turned sharply towards him, his eyes in slits. "My mother did not commit suicide," he said tersely.
Harry knit his brow, confused. "But…Draco, the—"
"My father still has a lot of power over the system. He can print his lies," Draco spat out angrily, "She was nothing but a weakness to him, a failure. She failed to keep me within the Dark Lord's alliance, and so she was useless to him. My father could have any whim followed through."
Draco turned away, walking off quickly, but that didn't matter. Harry concentrated solely on what was on the boy's mind, what he felt. It was as though he'd been plunged into an icy sea, enveloped by utter darkness. A flaming heat boiled in the depths of his being while his throat seized up and his heart felt as though it was slowly being crushed.
Harry stumbled slightly, steadying himself against the wall. It was too much to take all at once, the hate and pain and fear all tumbling into one. Worst of all, though he couldn't see the images that he knew were flying through Draco's mind, he knew their effects, and felt sick to his stomach.
****
Remus Lupin walked along the nearly abandoned streets of Hogsmeade, watching his feet as he went. Everyone else had disapparated home right after using floo powder to arrive at the Shrieking Shack, but for some reason Remus had turned to the town instead. He hadn't been in Hogsmeade much since he left Hogwarts. Yet now that he was walking its streets once again, his mind rested solely on his thoughts.
Even within the resistance, with people that he'd become quite good friends with, he felt that awkwardness. It always seemed to remain with him. He never thought it fair that he had to go through this pain along with the physical.
Not on his own accord, just following his feet, he came upon a bench occupied already by one person: Juniata Snape. He was surprised to see her in any case, but realized that she, like himself, was just looking for a place to be alone. However, he sat down beside her. It was always comforting to be alone along with someone else.
Neither of them spoke, just staring off into their thoughts. Juniata sat straight and stiff, as though she had never heard of comfort. Remus was slumped over slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. Each, however, stared at the ground. The sunlight was slowly fading, Hogsmeade becoming a place of various shades of gray. Suddenly, as though already in the middle of a conversation, Juniata spoke up.
"It's hell. It really is," she muttered, staring off at nothing.
"Worst than it even," Remus sighed, resting his chin on his hands. Somehow it felt as though they'd already been talking for ages, and this was just where the conversation led.
"Always finding the other way to do it," she went on.
"Doing everything on schedule or paying the price."
"That uncomfortable silence when others find out."
"Those fearful sideways glances."
"The sniggers behind your back."
"People crossing the street to avoid you."
"It's horrible."
"Frightening."
"Infuriating."
"Sad…"
"Sometimes I just feel like such a…" Juniata grasped for a word.
"A freak," Remus sighed.
They looked at each other, smiling slightly.
"It's nice to see you again, Juni," Remus said, sitting up and reaching out his hand.
"Pleasure to see you, too," she said, shaking his hand, "though it never was before."
"Oh… I'm sorry we were so awful to you back then."
"Ah well…kids do those kind of things," she shrugged.
"No, there's no excuse for it," he insisted, "I can't believe I ever did that. I mean, me, of all people… Talk about throwing stones in glass houses."
"Come to think of it, I don't think you did any of the 'stone throwing'."
"No, but I didn't stop it either, and that's just as bad. If not worse."
She smiled slightly, looking at the ground then back up at him. "Who was that one that was the worse?" she quickly said, as though shaking something off, "The one always wearing a leather jacket and know-it-all grin."
"That would be Sirius," he said with a laugh.
"He was relentless."
"Oh, it wasn't personal," Remus reassured her, "Sirius was just transferring his loathing for Severus to you. Sirius is that kind of person: When he likes you, he'll die for you; when he hates you…"
"Watch out," Juniata offered with a grin.
"Exactly," Remus nodded, smiling.
"Severus is the same way. Well, was. Or at least I thought he was." She sighed, shaking her head. "I'm not sure if I ever really knew him."
"I wish I had even tried to know him," Remus said wistfully, "Sometimes I look back and wonder if things would be different if I had simply reached out a hand. Severus wasn't our enemy from the start. He probably could have been a good friend, in fact. I'm not even sure why we started hating him."
"Who knows why anyone hates someone. Who knows why they love them. Your greatest enemy could have been your greatest friend if you met a week later," Juniata mused, "Everything happens for a reason, though. You may wish things had been different, but if you saw the outcome, you wouldn't like it one bit."
"Ah, but there's one thing I know I would change if I could," Remus said, giving a half-hearted laugh.
"Would you?" Juniata asked, looking straight into his eyes, "Think of all that happened because of that one event. The world would change so drastically without it. Would that be worth losing?"
Remus stared at her, almost in awe. "You make a lot of sense, Juniata. I just wish I had the brains to have seen it all those years ago."
"We all wish we did things differently when we were younger. And call me Juni," she said in a voice friendlier than she had used in years, "Long names always bothered me."
Remus smiled, looking back at the town now doused in darkness. His gaze turned upwards, past the dark leaves above them and to the black and blue expanse of sky.
"The stars are bright tonight," he commented quietly.
Juniata looked up also, gazing at the array of diamonds. "They always are. It's just hard to see it sometimes."
Remus glanced back at her, but her eyes were fixed upwards. He looked back up. "I'm glad I can see them now."
"It's nice to be in a town with no electric lights to dim them," she mused, her eyes traveling upon the Milky Way, "Those muggles don't know what they're missing."
Remus smiled slightly, but didn't withdraw his gaze. And so they sat there in the moonlight in silence, their eyes fixed upon the world above.
~*~*~
A/N: I considered titling this "The Chapter that Took Forever", but decided against it. ^_^ I know, I know, I'm sorry!!! Allow me to make excuses: I was gone for 2 weeks at a writing camp (and no, no time then; I had other assignments to write), and came back for a few days then headed off to girls' camp for 4 days. I got back yesterday. Scold me all you want, go ahead, but it is a longer chapter than normal, so I hope that makes up for it. ^-^
And just so I won't get a million reviews commenting on this, that last scene w/ Juniata and Remus was NOT romantic. ^_^ Mutual understanding, yes; friendship, possibly; romance, no. Not yet, at least. (Hey, never say never, right? ^_^)
Well, thank you everyone who stuck with me, and all those who read and reviewed the last chapter!
yerbroham: Ah, yes, very…interesting…chapter that was. *sigh* Oh, well first, I don't think Lily was a Marauder. Goodness, the idea of her doing that to poor Juni is just not right at all. ^_^ Personally, I can see James taking a few potshots at her for Snape's sake, and Sirius definitely so. As I tried to sneak in this chapter (~_^) I believe that whether he likes you or hates you, Sirius feels VERY strongly about his opinion. Yes he helped Peter, but that was because he liked him. And Peter himself…well, if Sirius or James were doing it, of course he would. Follow the big boys, that was his motto, the rat. Ah, yes, the typo. I fixed that the instant it was pointed out to me, but that doesn't stop some of my friends bringing up "Sirius Snape". ^_^ And I can promise a Voldy sighting by Halloween. ^_^ Well, in the fic. Probably before then in our time. ^_^ Thanks!
summersun: ^_^ Ah, depends on who she's forgiving. And yes, the Ron/Percy talk will be very important in subsequent chapters. ^_^ Thanks!
Naralina: Sirius, Severus, same difference. ^_^ Nope, sorry, no flashback. Talks about the past, possibly, but I try to steer clear of all out flashbacking. Yeah, there was an innocence in it all, wasn't there? Ah well. Innocence now… *bwa-ha-ha* Thanks!
Colibi: Thanks!
Tarawen: Yeah, I agree in many ways. So often fanficers stick Snape in a huge manor, making his past very much like Draco's. I just don't see him that way. That's why I made him poor, to explain things. I mean, I couldn't figure out why this man would become a Death Eater. He must have felt powerless much of his life, and the idea of power was just too much for him. And of course now he knows it was a mistake, and I'm sure it must pain him very much. Oh, I SO agree! Sirius and Snape seem so much alike! I think, in a way, that is part of the root of their hatred for each other. One thing, though, I DO think that Draco is abused. Not necessarily physically, but definitely emotionally. Whee, that was fun! It's been so long since I've had a HP char. talk. ^_^ Thanks!
abbey: Wow, thanks. ^_^ lol
jona: ^_^ Yes, tangled pasts are the bee's knees. ^_^ Thanks!
chrestomanci: Thanks!
Alec Kazaam: Mysteries are fun. Especially when you're not sure what's going to happen next. Not so much when you're the author, though. ^_^ Thanks, RLB! *teehee*
sweets: ^_^ lol And yes, your fic is on my list of 1 million and 7 fanfics I have to read this summer. ^_^ *sigh* Too bad summer isn't longer. ^_^ Thanks.
Trisana: Ooh, and this was an even longer wait. *winces* I really need to get writing more. ^_^ Explanations pending. Thanks!
Princess: Mmm…yes, we kinda find out what Azar's prophecy was, but only after it comes true. *bwa-ha-ha* Sorry, but can't reveal anymore. And Ron and Percy are up to very important business. Very, VERY important business. ^_^ Thanks!
Beci: ^_^ Thank you! Wow, all those fluffy good feelings. Even better than Butterbeer. ^_^ Thanks!
Mrs. Grim: lol Thanks! Nope, never got a Prom date. *sigh* But know what? I've promised myself that I'll go to all girls' choice dances next year! And I will! *hopefully* ^_^
Gina Starr: Thanks! ^_^ lol And I can promise at least one more Azar/Harry fight and make-up. ^_^
*Jay*: *grins* Thanks. I was kinda proud of that scene, too. Yes, Ron and Percy, I hadn't mentioned it before. They're planning some things. (Though Ron doesn't know their importance (neither does Percy, but he will).) ^_^ I know, I know, I've left poor Hermione hanging, but we'll get back to her. ^_^ Thanks!
*dances* I FINALLY GOT THIS CHAPTER UP!!! WAAAA-HOOOOOOO!!! And of course it being 1 am has nothing at all to do with my strange mood. ^_^ Though you'd think I'd be all urg-y because I'm fried. (That song, "Soak Up the Sun"? Er, no, don't follow that advice. ^_^)
Be excellent to each other!
-Ady