A/N: HOLY POOP. Please don't kill me for taking half of forever to update this. College is crazy. Blah. But I've no intention of dropping out just to please my readers :) Thanks to all my reviewers, and, uh...did I forget to mention this story has a twist? 'Cause this story has a twist. Try to guess what it is, just for my own amusement :)

Chapter Eleven

After several hours of reunions ("Harry Potter is alive! Harry Potter is alive!" shrieked Dobby ecstatically), tears ("Hermione, Harry's going to have to ring himself out if you keep crying all over him like that," Ron said, not really caring, a giant grin on his face), scoldings ("Don't you ever frighten me like that again!" cried Mrs. Weasley), and an almost violently enthusiastic hug ("Hagrid...I...can't...breathe..." Harry wheezed, feeling his ribs crack slightly), Harry found himself sitting in Dumbledore's office, a cup of tea in hand. The Headmaster sat behind his desk, eyes twinkling brightly, and Remus Lupin sitting in the chair beside him, also cradling a cup of tea. Remus had a contentedly thoughtful look on his face, and seemed more aware of his surroundings than he had in nearly a month, much to the Headmaster's relief.

While everyone else had an immense feeling of relief, Harry felt only anxiety. Walking in on his own memorial service had been a great shock, and he was still trying to gather his wits about him. Everything that had occurred since he'd stepped into the Great Hall seemed to have been nothing but a blur, much in the way the events following the Triwizard Tournament in his fourth year had been. Harry stared down into his tea, watching the ripples in the surface of the liquid as his hand trembled slightly. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes, forcing himself to calm down.

Nothing was said for quite a long time, which was fine by Harry. He was certain he knew the direction this discussion was going to go, and he wasn't really certain what he was going to tell his Headmaster and former Professor. He knew the truth – he knew what he'd seen, where he'd been – but he was quite certain no one else would believe him. But what else could he say? He couldn't very well lie, particularly not to these two men. He owed them that much. But then, what was he to say? He took another deep breath. He couldn't do it. Even beyond trying to explain to the Headmaster that he'd spent the last month in the company of an angel in the arctic (which, now that he thought about it, sounded slightly ludicrous, even in his head), he couldn't simply drop the decision he'd been given on Remus. Yeah, Professor, guess what? I get to bring either my mother, father, or godfather back to life! What do you think? Help me pick which one of your best friends I should pluck out of the after life to be here with us, knowing that the other two will stay dead. He snorted derisively, thinking how ridiculous this whole situation was, and desperately wishing things were as they had been the summer before his fifth year.

"Harry?" Harry looked up, and noticed the two men looking at him, a concerned look in the Headmaster's eyes. Harry realized that, of course, they had heard him snort, and he sighed and returned his gaze to the cup of tea in his hands. This was not a conversation he wanted to have. Maybe if I just don't say anything, they'll let me be.

"Harry?" repeated the Headmaster, but Harry refused to look up. He heard Dumbledore place his own cup of tea on his desk. "Harry, I need to ask you where you've been for the last month."

Harry did raise his head then, looking straight into the sparkling blue eyes of his Headmaster. There was a questioning look in those eyes, but Harry still said nothing. He turned around in his chair and looked out one of the several open windows in the office. He stared at the stars shining in the dark sky. His mind went blank.

Harry jumped and dropped his tea cup on the floor when a hand unexpectedly placed itself on his shoulder. Turning sharply, he saw the concerned face of Remus Lupin looking back at him. He softened his own gaze slightly, relaxing his shoulders. He glanced at the floor where his broken tea cup and spilled tea lay.

Lupin placed his hand beneath Harry's chin and forced his to look in his eyes. "Harry," he said slowly, "where have you been?"

Harry didn't move, nor did he answer. Remus stared him down, hoping to make the young man before him answer, but nothing happened. Sighing, he removed his hand and pulled out his wand, repairing the tea cup and cleaning the spilled tea. He placed the cup on the desk in front of them.

"We will wait here, Harry," Dumbledore said seriously, "until you tell us where you've been."

Harry stood up abruptly and went for the door, reaching out for the handle. Lupin was up just as quickly, and put his arms on Harry's, stopping him mid-step. "Harry!" he said sharply.

Harry spun around, pulling his arms away from Lupin's. "Look, there's no point, ok?" he said angrily, body still trembling. "Even if I told you, it's not like you'd believe me." He looked over at the Headmaster. "Either of you."

"Harry, I have always believed you," Dumbledore said, standing. "I've ne-"

"NO!" shouted Harry, pushing past Lupin and standing before Dumbledore. "You didn't trust me last year, did you? DID YOU! You didn't trust me to know...to know...you didn't trust me enough to tell me! To EXPLAIN to me!" He pointed an accusing finger at the Headmaster. His voice lowered to an almost dangerously calm level. "How can I expect you to believe what I say when you don't even trust me? You won't believe me if you don't even trust me. It's as simple as that." He lowered his hand. "Now let me out of your office, sir."

Remus was shocked at the outburst from the young man before him. He'd never seen Harry behave in such a manner, though judging from the look in the old man's eyes, Remus suspected Dumbledore had. He stood by the door with his mouth slightly open.

Dumbledore looked very grave. "Very well, Harry," he said quietly, motioning towards the door. It opened itself on its own accord.

Without another word, Harry turned on his heel and rushed past Lupin. He slammed the doors violently behind him as he left.

Harry angrily ran down past the stone gargoyle, down past a large picture window, and down past several ghosts. When finally he'd calmed down enough to think straight, he turned abruptly and violently kicked a classroom door in.

Why had he gotten so mad? He knew he still harboured much bitterness towards Dumbledore, but he had thought he'd be able to control himself from randomly bursting out in anger. Stupid hormones...

He kept walking. No! the little part of his mind that sounded like Malfoy said. No! You were 100 justified. The old man doesn't trust you. Why should you trust him? He doesn't deserve your trust. You did the right thing.

No I didn't...

Remus continued to stare at the door, amazed that A) Harry had the gall to speak to Dumbledore in such a manner, and B) the doors had remained on their hinges.

Dumbledore sighed behind him. Lupin turned to see him sink into his chair once more.

"I feared something like this would happen," he said quietly, placing his hands around his tea cup. Remus approached the Headmaster's desk and sat in the chair opposite him.

"You did?" he asked incredulously.

"Oh, yes," said Dumbledore, smiling sadly. "You should have seen him the night we returned from the Ministry of Magic. He destroyed half my office, poor boy."

"Really?" Lupin asked, taken aback.

"Oh, yes," said Dumbledore. "Between Sirius and the prophecy...it's a wonder he didn't harm himself, or me, for that matter."

Remus just nodded. Dumbledore had told him about the prophecy during the summer, and when they'd heard of Harry's supposed "death", he had feared that all was lost. In more ways than one. For Remus personally, all had been lost. The fact that Harry was, in fact, alive, was nothing short of a miracle for Remus Lupin.

"Remus," said the Headmaster gently, pulling the younger man from his thoughts, "Please go after him. Talk to him. Whatever it is he's hiding, I suspect it isn't something one should keep to oneself. I think he may be more receptive to opening up to you."

Once more, Remus just nodded.

A/N: On a side note, I want to get this done before HPB comes out. So the more reviews I get, the more likely I am to be motivated to write! No pressure or anything. And I don't want anyone trying to bring me up on typo charges for "harboured" – I am Canadian, and I'm spelling it properly!