Chapter Six

Dawn, to one man, had always been the most beautiful- if not most peaceful- part of the day: it also marked the end of the previous and the beginning of the new.

Remus Lupin was leaning on the windowsill breathing in the morning air, every so often sighing as he leant too hard on his left (now thoroughly battered) hand or on his right leg (which was now missing five goodly sized slashes of flesh after trying to tear his leg apart three nights previously). Other than rising at this hour to watch the sun rise- as had become a what seemed to be a time honoured tradition in his life- Remus had woken up because of a fitful and restless night; try as he might, his mind kept on returning to all of the previous, bad memories, or the "Unpleasants" as he had dubbed them both in the day and, more frequently, his sleep. One particular memory was of the argument that he had unwittingly walked into two nights ago in the kitchen: Molly Weasley's words refused to cease circulating around his mind, even now he could hear the mother's somewhat hysterical and exceptionally cutting words.

"Everyone just seemed to let him get himself into danger and get hurt, even his own doing. No-one was there to stop him running straight into that mess at the Ministry and help him see sense, so what's going to stop him waltzing straight into the Dark Lord's Inner Circle itself!"

"I hear what you are saying Remus, but still with all due respect, that does not excuse what happened. That boy needs to be protected twenty-four seven: no exception whatsoever. And I'm afraid, although I know that what you call "mistakes" are made: they cannot afford to be made here."

He snorted, dislike those words as he did, he couldn't help but agree with Molly; they had let Harry just waltz into trouble: he had let Harry just waltz into trouble, he had let his guard drop assuming that Harry's Occlumency lessons were continuing without fault,

"I'll never forgive myself," he muttered into the now lightening sky, "I'll never be able to look at that boy and realise how stupid I have been, how I have helped deprive him of yet another person whom he had grown to love." The werewolf shook his head, the premature silver hairs that graced his tawny cut glinting in the sunlight; he slammed his fist on the windowsill, cursing not only for his foolishness for allowing himself to relax to recover after what could only be described as a horrible full moon, but also for slamming his left, damaged hand on the hard sill and for adding yet more time for it to heal. Gingerly rubbing his hand, trying to get the blood circulating again, he sighed again. It had become a habit of his trying to remember all of the scars on his body, and how he had got them: his hands, of course, were a particular favourite as they were clearly visible and easy to look at. If he wanted to, he could easily name all twenty three (yes, he did keep count of them too) scars and their causes: the easiest to recall and find was a single scar that ran the length of the inside of his left hand, from the finger tip of his middle finger to the bottom of his palm. This scar, however, did not bear any "Unpleasant" memory; in fact it was a scar Remus was gladdened and yet saddened to have.

He had received this scar by slicing his hand open- somewhat reluctantly- with a knife so that a small scarlet river flowed down his open hand, after Sirius had sliced his; it had always been something Sirius had wanted to do, to become blood brothers with Remus. Ever since finding out that Remus was a werewolf, Sirius had felt that he could tell Remus of his problems, and he always knew that Remus would listen and try to help him wherever he could. This is why Sirius had proposed this suggestion to Remus, not realising how much it meant to the younger wizard. Both had promised each other that they would always be there for the other, and would always do anything that they could to help the other and honour the promises they made.

Thirteen years later, after Sirius had escaped from Azkaban and narrowly escaped the Dementor's kiss after the Shrieking Shack encounter, it seemed that Sirius still remembered Remus's promise to help the other with whatever the other demanded (provided it wasn't something to do with killing Snape, a plea Sirius had often asked for and Remus always refused), as two nights after Sirius escaping for the second time on Buckbeak, Remus received a letter composed in a very serious tone.

'Remus,

My friend, I must ask you to remember and honour the promise you made to me all those years ago when I ask you of this: please, do whatever it takes to look after Harry, as I feel that it will be a very long time until my name is cleared with the Ministry to be able to do so myself. I am sorry to burden you with this old friend, I know it will be a gargantuan task to undertake and I know it will not be an easy commitment for you either, but I feel that you are the only one who can.

I must end this letter, I do not like sitting in one place for a long time as you well know, and my ink is beginning to run out. Do not let me down Moony.

Take care brother'

Remus sighed, that last short line had haunted him everyday since that fatal moment at the Ministry, 'Do not let me down Moony'. A single, scalding hot tear ran down his scar ridden face: he had let him down, and he couldn't bear it.

A creak of the door announced someone entering the room, and as Remus had expected, it was Kreacher. The old elf shuffled into the room, muttering and mumbling as he went, every so often shaking his head making his huge, bat-like ears flap wildly around his pinched face. If the elf had noticed Remus, he didn't show it and merely continued his slow journey to the bed at the other end of the room. By the time he had reached the bed, Kreacher had pulled out something long and sharp looking from his rags: something that seemed to glint in an unpleasant and mocking way to the wolf still standing at the window across the room- it was a silver letter opener.

"Filthy half-breed, oh my poor mistress, how would she react if she knew that her faithful servant had allowed such a freak to remain in her house? Never mind now, Kreacher will put an end to his unclean presence: Kreacher will not allow him to…"

"Good morning Kreacher, what would you be doing in my bedroom at such an early hour of the morning?" Despite himself, Remus couldn't help but smirk at the elf's startled reaction to his sudden, yet perfectly polite, comment. The elf didn't seem to be able to make up his mind on what he should do first- he started to bow, then opened his mouth roughly six or seven times before apparating out of the room with a loud snap taking the letter opener with him.This incident came as no surprise to Remus: over the past few weeks, he had encountered the elf in a number of similar events, all of which involved an item made of silver which he assumed were meant to harm if not kill him. None of these incidents had affected Remus in the slightest, but it seemed that noise of the sudden apparation had; the residents of Twelve Grimmauld Place were beginning to stir and move around.

This seemed to rouse the tired man from his thoughts enough for him to realise that he now had no choice but to get up efficiently and go downstairs to see what challenges the day ahead would bring. It was a further hour until the whole household had followed the same regime as Lupin and had all assembled in the kitchen around the table.

Everyone who had been present in Twelve Grimmauld Place when the apparation happened had jolted awake from their deep and peaceful slumber, bar two people: Lupin and Harry.

Ever since his new found discovery the day before, Harry had not been able to clear his mind of the new and exciting possibility of finding out more and being one step closer to knowing who his parents were. He had to talk to Lupin today, otherwise he might not be able to get the chance before he went back to Hogwarts; Harry's train of thought was broken by a snort, the sound of creaking mattress springs and finally a loud thump as a dead weight hit the floor. Harry didn't even need to look to see what had hit the floor but a few seconds ago- he knew it was Ron falling out of bed again, probably still wrapped like an Egyptian mummy in his bed sheets: chuckling, he rolled over so that he was facing his friend, lying on his side. Ron, as he had suspected, was still cocooned in his bed-clothes, the duvet on the far end of the bed where it must have been kicked off,

"Morning mate, sleep alright?" His answer was a 'humph', barely audible through the tightly bound linen around his friend's body. Taking this as the most response he would be receiving, Harry sat up, looked around for his glasses and finally got up out of bed to get washed, dressed and head downstairs for breakfast. When Harry pushed the kitchen door open, his nose was suddenly bombarded by the delicious smells of a full English breakfast, but it wasn't being cooked by the person he'd thought it was. Lupin was standing by the kitchen counter humming a tune whilst simultaneously preparing and cooking- with the help of a few well placed charms, breakfast for what seemed to be an entire army. He stopped what he was doing when Harry fully pushed the door open, omitting a small creak: smiling at him, Lupin indicated to a chair.

"Sit down Harry, this will only be a couple more minutes." Harry did as he was told, slightly shocked that his ex-Professor had undertaken what had always been Mrs. Weasley's job. He was even more surprised when a heavily loaded plate came zooming over to where he was sitting, shortly followed by an empty glass and a carton of orange juice. He was still staring at the plate when Lupin came over with a cup of tea and two slices of toast for himself.

"Are you alright Harry? I know my cooking isn't brilliant, but you do realise that the stuff before you is food and not a creature that will bite your face off!" Harry looked up to see the smirk on Lupin's face slowly beginning to subside: pulling his wits together, he finally managed.

"Y…yes, I'm fine thanks; just a little shocked at, well, this." Harry gestured to the plate before him with a wave of his hand. This time a smile graced the chef's face.

"Yes, well: I thought maybe Molly could do with a rest this morning, goodness knows she needs it. I was being serious though, are you okay? You seemed a bit quiet when you came back from Diagon Alley yesterday. Do you need to talk about something? If not, I'll just shut up." Harry's turn to smile now: no matter how hard some people tried to make Harry feel at ease, none of them could do it half as well as Lupin. He just seemed to know how to approach a topic, and then recognise the signs of when to back off and leave a subject when it was needed. Now, he thought, now I can ask him.

"No, I'm fine in that respect thanks, but I do need to ask you one thing though." Lupin finished taking a sip from his cup, before putting it down and spread his hands wide before him.

"Fire away Harry. I'll do my best to answer whatever it is."

"Okay can, can you tell me who Lucia Nirethyls is? It's just that, well I found out yesterday that she was in Gryffindor, going to Hogwarts at the same time as you. I was just wondering if…"

Lupin nodded as he finished,

"If I knew her. Is that what you meant?" A nod was all that was needed for him to continue, "Yes I knew her, although I severely doubt she really knew me. If I'm right Harry, I believe you're asking me if she knew you're parents: am I right? Yes, well at least that is a piece of information that I can confirm without any form of doubt. I can also say that she used to be friends with your mother, Lily; they couldn't go anywhere without the other, something that earned them the name "The Un-identical Twins"."

Harry sat up, his heart thumping wildly in his chest as if it was going to burst out of his ribcage any moment now. Licking his lips, he asked.

"Do you know where she is know? Do you know what happened to her after you all left Hogwarts?" An odd colour had settled across Lupin's face at this particular question. He seemed to take his time before he eventually answered, with a slight shake in his voice.

"I, I'm not sure I know the truth behind all of the rumours that I heard about her actions after she left Hogwarts, but I do know that almost immediately after she left she joined the Ministry as an Auror- something I've no doubt you've picked up from Ron." Sensing Harry's un-spoken plea for him to continue, Lupin recalled, "She was a very gifted witch, something that her pure-blood family had given her through their joining: and it was because of her family and their reputation as one of the darkest families known, she wasn't trusted, she never was really- but something about her was so like Sirius that people naturally grew to like her. As I said she was uncommonly gifted, and was exceptionally talented in everything that she applied her mind to: especially in Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts, so it's no surprise that she figured out my condition years before the others did; but oddly she remained quiet about it- that's really how I got to know her, how I came to trust her above all of the others, yes even Sirius. I can't say much else, only that we maintained a good friendship throughout our time at Hogwarts and for a few years after before… before your mother and father were killed and Sirius was put in Azkaban."

Harry frowned, what did he mean "for a few years after"- surely if he was speaking about her like that, then they were still good friends. A voice interrupted his thoughts,

"Yes, you would believe that they would have remained friends wouldn't you, Potter." Both of the people sitting at the table whirled round to see Snape leaning in the doorway: his arms folded over his chest, expensive black robes draped around him and seemed to swirl around his body as though a wind were rippling through them. Stepping into the room, he spoke again.

"They didn't though: Lucia moved to the Ministry to become an Auror because she fell for the poison that was spilled into her ear about werewolves being spies for the Dark Lord: but she became a highly successful Auror and actually did something with her life that can be seen as positive." His trade mark sneer licked like a flame across his face as he looked at the other adult in the room. "However, it takes no imagination to know what Lupin did after that incident- if you can't- and I wouldn't be surprised if you can't, it wasn't anything productive." He had opened his mouth to say more, but Lupin had leapt up out of his chair and was standing in front of Snape before anyone had the chance to blink.

"And I suppose that you did something productive didn't you Severus? Sitting on the fence waiting to see who would come out on top always was a useful job wasn't it!"

"Speaking of jobs Lupin, have you found anywhere that would even look at your record before turning you down? Looking at the state of your robes I'd say not."

This time it was Lupin's turn to laugh.

"And the same to you Severus, Potions robes again I see! I'd heard you'd been pipped at the post again. Tell me, who was it that has managed to beat you to that role this time?"

Snape didn't answer, it seemed that Lupin's quick return had sliced his self-esteem deeply, as he merely turned a paler shade of gone of cream and left the room- slamming the door behind him. Harry hadn't had the chance to ask him who this new teacher was, because Mrs. Weasley's voice floated into the room- despite being a somewhat uneasy kind of floating.

"Everything alright Remus? What did Severus want?" Lupin looked at Harry before turning to Mrs. Weasley with a smile and said lightly.

"Not quite sure Molly, didn't really get that far to be perfectly honest- we became slightly caught up in old-school affairs. Anyway, only one thing to say now: good morning and umm, would you like some breakfast? I think I've made enough for all of us."