Harry entered number twelve, Grimmauld Place as a cat would enter a garbage can. He leaned his trunk against the wall, pausing to look apprehensively into his late godfather's house. He could practically smell Sirius' scent that lingered in the air. Everything was silent for a few moments.
"Could you please, not stand in the way of the door!" Snape hissed vehemently.
Harry scuttled out of the way and up the stairs to the room that he had stayed in the previous summer. He threw his trunk under his bed and lifted Hedwig out of her cage. "I need you to give a message to Ron and Hermione," he said to the bird, "Er… don't peck them this time…"
He scribbled a short message on two bits of parchment, "I need you to meet me at headquarters, we have a lot to talk about. –Harry"
The snowy owl nipped his hand affectionately and flew out of the window. Harry was left in his room alone. A cold feeling overtook him, he could not bare being in the same place for to long. That would get him thinking…
He ran down the stairs into the kitchen where he found his Potion's master smoking a fag. Harry stared plainly, "I didn't know you smoked."
"I don't."
Harry closed his mouth sullenly. Snape hissed and a trail of smoke blew out of his mouth and nostrils in a way that made him look like some sort of dragon. Harry folded his arms in frustration; "I would appreciate it if you didn't smoke that in here." Snape just raised his eyebrows, and smiled as if he found it amusing, "So you're the boss now?"
"No, I would just be grateful if you would not smoke in my house."
Snape made a cough that sounded more like a gulp, "What?"
"Well this is my house, isn't it? I inherited it."
He closed his eyes and stuffed the butt into the ashtray. "Don't make rude assumptions, Potter. You're not the owner, first of all, because you're not of age, second of all, because your godfather wouldn't allow it. It went to someone else."
"Who?"
Snape stood up, "Why, so you can see to it that he kick the bucket?" He smirked, "Although I doubt that you need to do anything, he looks like he could snuff it any day now…" And he strolled out of the kitchen, leaving the stink of cigarettes in his wake.
Who could he mean? Harry thought to himself. His first thought was Dumbledore, that would make sense since it was headquarters, but then again Harry doubted whether Snape would say something that mean about him. He jostled his brain, and found that cold feeling rise in his chest as he remember it was that very place that Sirius had almost had his hand cut off, then laughed about it. He stood up quickly and ran out of the room.
He found himself walking from room to room, trying to find one that did not hold a memory of Sirius. But in each one he found something. He came to the room where a fire was blazing. Soon he realized that it was the same room where he had confronted Sirius and Remus about Snape. The cold feeling in Harry's heart suddenly increased to a painful measure. It was like the hot, stuffy air he inhaled was suddenly a hundred degrees lower. Sweat trickled down his temple, while at the same time he shivered with wintry fervor. Perhaps he was coming down with something?
"Sirius," a small whisper fluttered on the waves of heat and punctured Harry's heart. He let out a gasp of surprise, as he recognized the outline of a man in the old armchair. The strong but withered hand that grasped a forgotten book let it fall to the floor with an unromantic thud. "Ssssiri…" Harry found the man muttering in his sleep. His chapped lips mouthed soundless words.
"Professor Lupin?"
The man slumped in his seat, apparently asleep. "Leave me 'lone…"
Harry was taken aback, at first, but Remus continued, "Leave me 'lone, Sirius, can't you see I'm reading?"
He stepped in front of the fire, and pushed his arm, "Professor, wake up…"
"No! I don't wannu, just, go make yoursef supper, Albe there ina minute…"
If it had been in any other situation, he would have laughed. But the cold in his chest was turning into freezing, he shook his professor more violently. "No, Sirius, I said no, don't look at me like that." Harry shook him, almost to the point of knocking him out off the chair. "Stop, Sirius… STOP!"
His eyes wrenched open; they gleamed golden in the firelight. His jaw hung loose, he stared from the fire to Harry and began to realize where he was. "Harry… I'm sorry, must've dozed off again… I just… when did you get here?"
"Just now."
"Oh… good to see you," he sighed, trying to act normal again. He picked himself up onto the chair properly. "I was just dreaming about…"
"Sirius?"
"Yes… he was here… it was like, a replay of a memory I had…" He shivered, apparently the internal cold was affecting him too. "I'm sorry, you must think I'm crazy, I know I sometimes talk in my sleep…" he suddenly looked afraid, "Did I saying anything… anything… well… anything that upset you?"
"Why would you upset me?"
"I mean did I say anything…odd?"
"Well, you told him to make supper…"
"Oh, never mind," he said, looking relieved and upset at the same time. Silence fell, and Harry's ears pricked with the cackling of the fire. Remus looked as though he had not slept in days. Great, gray skin hung under his eyes, and some of his hair, previously gray, had turned white. The lines on his face looked as if the had been sketched on him with a marker. He held his head in a tragic way, like an old, battered dog; the pupils of his eyes were dead of light. He had not taken Sirius' death lightly, as Harry first assumed. Wasn't this man the same one who had come to grips with his godfather's death the moment he fell through the veil? And yet, he was having dreams about his friend, as if wanting to go back in time.
Even if Harry hated to admit it Snape was right. Poor Professor Lupin looked like he could fall over and die right in front of him.
"Professor Lupin?"
"Remus, Harry…"
"Alright, Remus? Are you the one that Siri… that my godfather gave the house to?"
He gave a hollow smile, "Yes, I am."
"S-so, am I going to live with you?" He looked at him, expectantly, some sad cheerfulness passed over the werewolf's face.
"If you want to… I mean… I know Snape is not the one I would want to live with…"
He looked at him dryly, "Have you ever met the Dursleys?"
He laughed with no happiness, "No I can't say that I have, although I've met Petunia, I can only imagine how bad it is."
"Yeah, it's bad. At least I'm pretty sure Snape won't lock me in a cupboard."
Remus' eyes widened, "A cupboard? Dear Merlin!"
Suddenly, a load voice could be heard in the hallway, "Bloody hell! It's bloody hot in here! Why the hell are you brewing a fire? It's the middle of JUNE! Crazy lunatic…" he made to pull of a black over-tunic.
"Severus, watch your mouth, Harry's in here, he doesn't…"
"Oh, well why doesn't he get a WATER BUCKET, to get the FIRE OUT!"
Harry dashed back with the water bucket.
"Do you have to?" Remus asked, "It's kind of cold, isn't it?"
"ARE YOU CR…" he paused muttering to himself, "1…2…3…Remus, I think you might need medical attention." And with that he dumped the water onto the fire.
Remus bit his lip. Harry spoke up, "Doesn't it feel cold in here, to you?"
After some pause, he concluded, "You're both insane." He stalked out of the room.
"We can't both be insane!" Harry snuffed indignantly.
"I think it's just because he's used to his cold dungeons, and here it seems hot to him, perhaps," Remus explained. He paused, "Why didn't he just put it out with his wand?"
"He likes seeing me suffer," Harry concluded.
"Oh you poor lad, well, if Snape means to bully you, or hurt you in any way, come to me, we'll have Dumbledore have a talk with him. Or I could just hex him to pieces, either way…"
"Thanks, Remus, thanks a lot," he said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, and began out of the room, "Oh, and can Ron and Hermione come over?"
Before Remus could finish the word "certainly" someone's hand-me-down shoes, attached to a freckly pair of legs had landed in the fireplace.
