Chapter 2
Truths and Half Ones
"Harry, dear, would you like some more potatoes?"
He looked up at Molly Weasley's unabashedly hopeful face. Harry winced. He realized he had reduced her to being happy at just seeing him at the table with them.
He loved and hated her for that.
"Er," he started, looking down at his own plate of uneaten potatoes. "I don't—"
"Good!" she concluded as she spooned him another helping. She looked up at beamed at him. "It's so good to see you up and about, Harry," she said, smiling widely. Harry could see her deepened crow's feet. He nodded distractedly.
As he absentmindedly picked at his added potatoes, Harry glanced at the stairway. Remus still hadn't come down for lunch. It had been almost twenty minutes (Harry was alternating between the wall clock and the staircase.) Mrs. Weasley had asked him if he'd seen Remus, and he'd replied vaguely, "Oh, I think he's looking for something in his room." That was ten minutes ago.
Harry tapped his foot impatiently. He wanted nothing more than to apologize to Remus, but at the same time, wished he never had to see him again. What if he never wants to speak to me again? His absence distressed Harry.
He glanced across the table at Tonks. She too, was looking at the staircase, and her eyes met his. She opened her mouth, as if about to say something, but shut it. She looked down at her plate, which, Harry noticed, was just as full as his.
Harry hadn't lied in the attic.
Through his seclusion, he had noticed little things between his old Defense Against Dark Arts professor and the young Auror. They were so small that, at the time, he wouldn't even think about them. However, as the weeks passed, he started to piece it together, noticing the little bits more.
How Remus had basically reserved all smiling and laughter for her now. How whenever Tonks walked to her room, she always paused, just for a second, outside of his. How tenderly he touched her wounds after Tonks tripped or slipped or rolled or those things she tends to do. How she brushed the lint she found in his hair, fingering the gray strands, and when he protested, she smiled and said, "I like them."
But most of all… most of all the way they looked at each other. It was something Harry couldn't explain. It was as if it was a relief for them. That they had endured the world so they could look in each other's eyes and know why it was worth it.
They were each other's answer.
It embarrassed Harry to catch them looking at each other in this manner. It was so intimate, so vulnerable. It was seeing something he shouldn't have seen, something he wasn't a part of. He blushed just thinking about it.
"Where is that Remus Lupin?" declared Mrs. Weasley, breaking Harry out of his thoughts. He glanced at his lunch. At this point, his potatoes were no less than mush.
Mrs. Weasley seemed aggravated. "That man really has his own definition of time." She turned to look at the wall clock on the wall behind her.
She turned back to them, shaking her head. "One of you go look for him, eh?" She looked at Ron and Ginny (both to the left of Harry) with stern glares. Both mumbled vague "Eating, Mum"s and sunk into their chairs.
Mrs. Weasley huffed and turned to her right. "Tonks?"
Tonks turned red and dropped her fork. "Er—well, I mean, he's probably—you know—I suppose I could—" Her words became more irrational as she disappeared under the table to retrieve her fork.
"Sorry, everyone," came a clear, unmistakable voice from the doorway. "I was a bit preoccupied."
Tonks, who was under the table getting her fork, bumped her head against the table and cursed mildly.
"Remus!" exclaimed Mrs. Weasley. "Well, it's about time!" She started to pile his clean plate with potatoes. "Did you find what you were looking for?"
Remus, who was approaching the table, raised an eyebrow. "What I was looking for?" He glanced at Harry, who looked away. "Yes… it was… shocking, to say the least." He gave Molly a small smile, and sat down in his chair, between her and Tonks.
From the corner of his eyes, Harry looked at Remus. He had noticed Tonks under the table and was helping her up. He held her hand. She smiled. "I really should start paying a fee for you to help me up," she said, as she sat back in her chair.
Remus started to smile, but then, seemed to stop himself. His eyes turned to Harry. Harry didn't look away this time.
"Remus, your potatoes are getting cold," reprimanded Mrs. Weasley, who hadn't noticed the exchange between Remus and Harry.
Remus and Harry both looked down at their plates. When Harry looked back at Remus, he was eating his lunch, as if nothing had happened."Oy, Harry, Ginny and Hermione and I are going to Floo back to the Burrow and play some Quidditch. You up for it?" asked Ron, as Mrs. Weasley cleared the table.
Lunch was over, and Tonks had left to go back to work minutes before. Harry could see that Remus' eyes were still lingering over her seat.
"You fool," whispered Ginny, giving Ron a look, "Of course Harry doesn't want to play!"
Harry almost winced at that comment, but it was difficult to blame her. He had shown no interest in spending time with his friends since he arrived at Grimmauld Place. It was expected by now that he'd just sleep all day.
"Er," Harry started, as he watched Remus walk out the room. "I would, really. Just, not today, alright Ron?" He gave his best friend a small, but sincere smile. "How about… tomorrow?"
Ron looked at him for a moment. Then, he broke out in a huge grin. "Yeah, of course, mate. Tomorrow." He gave Harry a hard pat on the back. He and Ginny walked out the room, as Ron repeated to himself, "tomorrow".
Hermione glanced at the two departing Weasleys, and turned back at Harry. She looked at him for a moment, before throwing her arms around him, giving him a tight hug.
"Hermione…" choked Harry, "You're hurting me!"
Hermione finally let go, smiling widely. "We missed you, Harry." Still smiling, she turned, and ran after Ron and Ginny.
Harry stood by himself in the kitchen doorway for a moment. He wasn't fibbing or anything, not really. They looked so eager, and he'd given them enough grief already. Who knows, maybe he will want to play tomorrow.
He shook his head. His friends had distracted him from what he had to do. Looking up, he ran toward the stairs after Lupin.
