Feel
By: Lady DeathAngel
Disclaimer: not mine, not profiting, 'nuff said.
Warnings: same ol' angst.
A/N: Finally! Remus made an appearance! Woot. Anyway, here he is for everyone who's been waiting for him. Hope you like it. And don't worry, this isn't the end. As always, please read, enjoy and review.
He'd played the scenario over and over in his head. He couldn't remember all the ways he'd envisioned a conversation with his former professor going, but he didn't recall it involving Lupin coming to him. Not that he went to him per se. But after so long not speaking to him, Lupin was the first to initiate contact. It was more or less out of necessity, though. Apparently he had his orders from Dumbledore or Mrs. Weasley or something.
He should have thought something was going on when Ron and Hermione cleared out of the room with nothing else to do, making excuses all the way over the threshold and halfway down the hall. But he didn't think anything of it really. Only when he heard a disembodied voice clearing itself did he realize it had been a ploy.
He sat up and whirled around, the book he'd been leafing through forgotten the minute he saw Remus Lupin standing just inside the room. He looked . . . well, he didn't look well. He looked thin and haggard and weary. He'd had a bit of a spark, at least, when Sirius was still around ranting at nothing out of the blue. He'd looked younger and more like the man he was sure his parents had loved. Now he looked worse than he had at the first meeting on the Hogwarts Express three years earlier.
But he didn't spare much thought for that. His thoughts were more frantic. He felt . . . wrong somehow. Like seeing Lupin, so much as being in the same room as him alone was enough to seal his fate. He wanted to yell at him to get out but his throat had stopped working and somewhere, deep in the pit of his stomach, he was glad to see him and he felt guilty and he felt good and it was just too much for him to be able to open his mouth and say much of anything.
"Hello, Harry." he said in that oh-so familiar hoarse voice.
It felt good to hear it. It felt normal. He could hear his parents in that voice. Hear Sirius in that voice. Hear what could have been for all of them and as bittersweet as it should have been it wasn't. It relieved a bit of the tension he'd felt for weeks.
"Er, hi, Professor."
That smile, small and not much but a slight up-turn of the lips, was so familiar.
"You can dispense with the formalities, you know. Just Remus is fine."
"Um, okay. Hi, Remus." He wrinkled his nose. "It feels . . . weird."
And that chuckle! He could still remember hearing it in response to the same things that had made Sirius smile roguishly.
"He said the same thing." Lupin . . . Remus, told him. "When he heard everyone calling me 'professor'. He wrinkled his nose, tried it out and said it felt weird. But right somehow."
Well, it did feel right somehow. And it was then he realized who he was talking about.
"You talk about Sirius." he said softly, a bit awestruck.
"Why wouldn't I?" he asked.
"Every time someone else mentions him they shut themselves up. Fred and George bring him up all the time but Mrs. Weasley just tells them to be quiet. They try to act like it never happened. Like he was never here."
He expected for him to say something in reply. Something wise and something that would make it okay. That would say, 'it's all right.' or 'they don't know better'. But he didn't, he just swallowed hard and went right to business.
"I'm supposed to talk to you." he said softly. "That's why I'm here. I know you probably don't want to see me, so I'll make it short."
And in that moment he wondered if he didn't really want to see him either. Because he was pushing him away without a second thought.
"Okay."
"First, I'll pick up your school things if you want. I'll be visiting Diagon Alley this weekend. Molly wanted to do it, but if you want your things earlier or if you need anything, just let me know."
He didn't nod or shake his head. Just stared. Remus cleared his throat again.
"I don't . . . they wanted me to talk to you about this, Harry. Because of who I am to you I suppose, I don't know."
"What?"
"You're going to start your Occulmency lessons with Snape again, though you'll be visited by a few other experts in the field as well."
Harry didn't care. He might have. Months before, private lessons with Snape had been a nightmare and one he was all too willing to wake up from. But now he knew how important it was to guard himself, and despite the fact that he hated the greasy-haired man more than he'd hated almost anyone, save Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort himself, it had to be done. So he simply nodded. That wasn't it though, he could see it in Remus' posture.
"Harry, Dumbledore wanted me to inform you that while at Hogwarts your actions are going to be fairly restricted."
He frowned.
"Restricted?"
Remus nodded.
"Yes. For your safety and the safety of those around you. You aren't going to be allowed visits to Hogsmeade, you'll have a curfew that will be enforced and you'll have to leave your invisibility cloak with me. Quidditch is still in question."
He blinked. And again. It was only fair, he decided. But it hurt to know that now everyone was going to know what a danger he was to those he came into contact with. He was as good as a pariah or a recluse. It would keep everyone safe, namely him, but that didn't make it any easier to swallow. And it definitely didn't make him any less angry or resentful.
"So, I get to go to classes and that's it?" he said softly.
"It'll keep you safe and . . ." Remus trailed off.
"And keep me from killing any more of my friends?" he finished for him.
"That's not what I meant."
"But it's true, isn't it?"
There was a lengthy silence in which neither could look away from the other. There was so much to say and be said, but they didn't open their mouths. Eventually he got tired of the staring contest and looked away angrily.
"Why don't you just send Voldemort a letter? You could always owl him and let him know I'm coming and send me to kill him before I accidentally off myself. That's what this is all about."
"What are you talking about?" Remus asked, tone hard.
He snorted.
"Please, I'm not stupid. No one really cares about anyone else. If they die they can just be legends that died for my cause. This is all really about keeping me safe so that I can eventually go out there like a good little hero, kill Voldemort and save the world. I bet Dumbledore's already got it all planned out, doesn't he?"
Remus didn't say anything and so he chanced a glance at him. He was looking at the wall, fingers tugging at the edge of his shoddy robes. There was a rigidity to his body that let him know he wasn't going to deny it.
"I was right in one, wasn't I?" he said finally. "But it's all pointless. I don't care about saving the rest of the world if I can't even save the people I love. Why doesn't anyone get that?"
"I don't know." was the soft reply.
"You don't know or you won't tell me?" he shot back. "Does he not want you to tell me? Has he always been the one dictating what you and Sirius could tell me? All those times I asked questions and you both avoided answering them, were you told not to talk to me about it?"
The older man drew in a sharp breath and when he turned to look at him, his hazel eyes were filled with an intangible pain. And it was true. Suddenly it made sense. And this was so much deeper than what he'd expected, what he'd ever expected.
"Maybe you'd better go." he told him, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Wouldn't want to risk you saying something you shouldn't, right? Besides, the longer you're around me the greater the chance I'll inadvertently kill you. So, yeah, you should go."
And he turned his back on his former mentor to look sightlessly at the book in front of him. He heard soft footsteps that hesitated at the threshold before leaving him alone. It was better this way for everyone, he convinced himself. He was going to have to get used to isolation, anyway. But it hurt and it felt wrong and he wasn't the only one being manipulated in all this. He just didn't know what more there was to say, so he let Remus walk away and pushed away all thought.
Thinking hurt too bloody much.