He waited a moment, almost expecting Harry to express rage or disgust or betrayal. Instead, he said nothing, as if he were naturally expecting Lupin to say more. "I thought that, being an infatuation, it would pass with time. It didn't. It only grew." Remus let a bitter laugh escape him. "Keep in mind, Harry, that I wasn't exactly a big hit with the ladies. I had James Potter and Sirius Black as best friends, after all, and who would want me with them around? They were adventurous, funny, handsome, everything that I wasn't. Well, except perhaps for the adventurous part. I was a Gryffindor after all."
"Then there was the fact that I am a werewolf," Remus continued, a little surprise entering his voice and Harry supposed his former teacher had expected him to interrupt at some point. In fact, Harry was compelled to hear him out and he felt his chest grow tighter as Lupin spoke. "How do you break that information to a girl who you've just mustered up the courage to ask to Hogsmeade? Or do you wait until the second date? Or until you kiss for the first time? Or do you just bottle it up inside you forever, hoping they'll never find out, and that you'll never put them in danger because you kept it a secret?"
If Remus Lupin was waiting for an answer from Harry, he would be waiting for a long time. Harry's vocal cords seemed temporarily muted as if under the silencing charm and the tightness in his chest was now replaced with the sensation of a hippogriff sitting on it. "In the end, I couldn't do any of it. There was nobody who I felt I could trust with my secret, other than my fellow Marauders. But Lily, she already knew. She was a smart girl who had quite a few run-ins with us during our various...shenanigans." The barest hint of a smile crossed his lips. "Lily Evans knew what I was, who I was and...it didn't matter to her. She befriended me anyway.
"We were prefects together, you know. I had loads of alone time with her, patrolling the hallways, making our rounds. I could have told her how I felt at any time. Most of the other prefects used their duties as an excuse to go off and snog. I knew Lily would never go for that, but I could have...I could have told her." Remus Lupin smiled warmly and made eye contact with Harry for the first time. "Some Gryffindor I am, eh?"
"She never knew how you felt?" Harry croaked, his voice strained and hollow-sounding.
"Eventually," Lupin confessed with a sigh. "Near the end of sixth year. When it was too late. She was already in love with James." Lupin's eyes studied Harry's features carefully, as if seeing him for the first time. "I didn't mean to burden you with all of this, Harry. It can't be easy for you to hear that someone else other than your father ever loved your mother. Or that someone actually resented their relationship. It's not something I'm proud of." Harry stared at him silently, not quite knowing how to put his feelings into words. "But you wanted to know and I felt you had the right to. I don't expect you to understand..."
The dam burst. Everything Harry had been feeling over these last few moments, these last few months exploded out of him, unbidden. And it came out in a form Harry wouldn't have expected. Laughter. He was now laughing hysterically, trying his best not to fall out of one of Sirius' best armchairs in the process.
Lupin rose from his seated position and withdrew his wand, giving Harry a curiously concerned look. 'He must think Voldemort's possessed me again,' Harry thought. For some reason this made him laugh harder and he fell to the floor, his chest rising and falling so rapidly that it surely looked as though he were having some sort of fit. After a few long moments when Professor Lupin seemingly contemplated using the Floo Network to get help, checking to see if any other Order members were still around to provide back up, and simply trying some sort of spell on Harry himself, Harry put a hand up as though that could stop Lupin from hexing him into next week. "I'm alright, Professor...er, Remus," Harry interjected, his laughter becoming sporadic but his voice still clearly his own. Lupin relaxed slightly but moved to Harry's side, offering him his hand and pulling him up into a seated position once more. "I'm fine. Really."
"May I ask, Harry," Remus Lupin inquired, his voice even but his eyes intensely curious, "what exactly was so amusing?"
"Just an image that popped into my head," Harry answered him, his laughter dying away slowly. "Of me, giving this same talk to some Weasley sprog with bushy red hair in about twenty years." Remus backed away from him instinctively and Harry got that distant look in his eyes that he often did. "Silly thought, I suppose. That I'll live to see my thirties. That Ron and Hermione will automatically get married and have kids just because they started dating. That I'll be as open and honest at your age as you are."
"Oh," Lupin replied, a little stunned. He slowly lowered himself back into his seat, seeming to have a hard time finding the chair. "Oh."
"Yeah," Harry replied, his smile now fading away, too. "I guess...I guess I need to talk about this with somebody."
"You definitely should," Lupin agreed too quickly, with enthusiasm that Harry quickly recognized as forced. "Have you tried, erm..."
Harry was amused by Remus' attempt to foist him off on someone else, although he did not smile. "Who? The Dursleys? Ron and Hermione themselves? Hagrid? Dumbledore?"
Remus nodded quickly. "Hagrid or Dumbledore, yes. Them."
Harry fought back a sigh. "Even if I thought turning to Hagrid for relationship advice was a good idea, he couldn't keep a secret to save his life, especially from Ron and Hermione. And Dumbledore..." His voice trailed off. How to tell Remus exactly what his relationship with Albus Dumbledore was like at the moment? "I'd just as soon not. Actually, this is something I would have loved to talk to Sirius about."
Remus Lupin leaned forward in his chair to look Harry straight in the eye. "Your ability to induce guilt rivals your mother's. Very well, Harry. Although I cannot promise to be unbiased, I am here for you. Any time." He took a deep breath. "So, you fancy Hermione but she's with Ron?" he asked, as if attempting to size up an arithmancy problem.
"Yes," Harry confessed, feeling as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "At least I think so."
Lupin frowned. "You think you fancy Hermione or you think she's with Ron?"
Harry cleared his throat nervously. "I know I'm crazy about Hermione and I know she's with Ron, right now in fact, but I'm just not sure if it's...a romantic...togetherness." The frown on Remus Lupin's face deepened. "She told me this summer that she's been thinking of asking Ron out and then the first opportunity she has to see him all she wants to do is talk to him alone. But of course that was before we almost kissed."
"You almost kissed?" Remus repeated back in a choked voice.
"Well yeah," Harry replied, as if it were no big deal. "But I didn't really realize how I felt then. So when she blamed it on hormones, I just let it go at that. Do you think maybe...it was more? I mean, there probably wouldn't have been a second time if she hadn't felt something, right?"
"A second time?" Remus parroted again. "You mean there was a second time when you almost kissed?"
Harry's eyes found the floor. "Yeah. In my bedroom, just after we found out about Auburn Summer. At least, I think we did." A thin smile spread across his face as he looked back up at Lupin. "Hard to tell with an almost kiss, you know?"
"Listen Harry," Remus Lupin leaned in closer to Harry, resting his elbows on his knees. "I think you should be talking to Hermione about this."
"Look, if you don't want to help with advice about girls, I understand, but I can't exactly go to..." Harry started, but Remus cut him off.
"That is my advice, Harry," the older man insisted. "Have a nice long talk with Hermione. Let her know how you feel. It doesn't sound like she and Ron could have gotten very serious yet." Lupin grinned. "Or at least not to the point of having named all of their bushy red-haired sprogs."
"What if..." Harry started and felt an unfamiliar fear grip him. A paralyzing fear. He was suddenly reminded of Hermione being hit by Dolohov's curse in the Department of Mysteries. "What if she doesn't feel the same way about me?"
Lupin shrugged. "What if she does? Could you really stand it if you didn't take the chance?" Harry's eyes moved from briefly meeting Lupin's to his own intertwined hands. "Harry, I don't want you to think there is any parallel between my situation and yours, because there isn't. If anything, after I found out that Ron and Hermione had been made prefects last year, I thought I might be having this conversation with him before too long." Harry was about to ask him why, but Remus' eyes flitted to a clock on the wall and he turned back to Harry with a sense of urgency in his tone. "You should go back to the Burrow. The Weasleys are probably wondering where you've gotten to and even though Molly loves to worry, it drives everyone else around her crazy." He shoved a small parcel into his hands. "Happy birthday, Harry. Write me. Tell me how things went with Hermione. And I wouldn't put that little conversation off for too long if I were you."
Harry nodded his acceptance but couldn't meet the gaze of his former teacher. Grabbing another handful of Floo powder, he enunciated "the Burrow" very clearly and disappeared. He wanted nothing more than to collapse onto one of the Weasleys' beds ('although not Ginny's', his mind added strangely) and sleep for a good long while, as the exhaustion that filled his body made him feel as though he were moving in slow motion. What he wanted, however, wasn't what he got.
"Surprise!"
Every single Weasley with the exception of Arthur and Percy, plus Hermione, Mad-Eye Moody, Tonks, Dumbledore, Kingsley Shacklebolt and, much to Harry's surprise, Remus Lupin (how had he apparated here so fast?) surrounded him, their faces smiling with joy. It made Harry tired just to look at them. Shooting Fred and George an amused glance as he shook hands with Tonks and Kingsley, Harry wandered over towards Ron and Hermione. "I thought it wasn't a surprise party if I knew where it was going to be and who was going to be there?" Harry asked Hermione pointedly.
She fired off a mischievous grin worthy of the Weasley twins. "You didn't know that everyone was going to be here. And you certainly didn't know we were going to surprise you right after you came back from Grimmauld Place. So it counts as a surprise party." Hermione then gave Ron the look, although it seemed softer than the one she had shot him when they first arrived. 'Is that because they're together?' Harry asked himself glumly, although his brain produced no answer. "Even though Ron did nearly ruin it all."
"Did not!" Ron insisted. "You're the one who was talking about something being surprising. Right confusing, that was. I figured you'd already told Harry what was going on and..." He managed to stop himself, as if aware that what he would say next would cause another row between Hermione and him. "And besides, it didn't ruin anything because Harry didn't have a clue what was really going on. Did you, Harry?"
Harry nodded. Right now he felt like the most clueless person on the Earth. "Come over here, Harry," Molly gushed as she threw one arm around him and began steering him towards the kitchen. "Arthur's bringing in your birthday cake now. Your real cake, not that gag one Fred and George showed you." She gave her sons an accusatory look.
Harry thought he heard either Fred or George mutter "didn't make us gag", but soon Harry forgot all else and became transfixed on a single image, one which would surely be burned on his brain forever, whether he wanted it to be or not. As Arthur Weasley entered the room carrying Harry's cake, a dangling alien-seeming object that had been pushed onto the Weasley patriarch's proboscis caught his attention and it would not let go. Arthur Weasley was wearing the condom the Dursleys had given Harry. On his nose.
"Ah, I see you've noticed my latest fashion accessory, Harry," Mr. Weasley said with beaming pride. "Hermione informs me that this is a muggle rubber nose warmer. Although I must say I don't think it's doing much of a job." His eyes brightened suddenly. "I'll bet it's used for when muggles have the common cold! That's why it's rubber and so much longer than it needs to be. It must be designed to contain excess bodily fluids."
Harry had a very hard time keeping a straight face as he blew out the candles on his birthday cake.
All and all, the party was a hit. Harry opened his gifts from everyone. Standard fare mostly: candy, spellbooks, owl treats for Hedwig. Remus Lupin's present was a quick-quotes quill like the one Rita Skeeter used (along with a note to "use it sparingly in class"), plus a deed to Grimmauld Place with a magical clock counting down til next year, when Harry could legally take possession of it. Until then, it was left in Lupin's stead. Hermione's gift was conspicuously absent, but he knew she would have plenty of chances to give it to him later.
Once they all stopped focusing on him, Harry withdrew from everyone, finding a quiet corner of the Burrow not far from the staircase where he could get lost in his thoughts. He watched Dumbledore do something with his teacup for the amusement of the two Aurors present, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks, when a thought hit him very suddenly. 'Would any of them be here without the prophecy?'
Ah, yes. The prophecy. Harry had done a good job of not thinking about it over the summer, but it was always there, lingering in the back of his mind, threatening to overwhelm him at times when he would rather be thinking about something more pleasant. It would be he who would have to face Voldemort in the end, face him and kill him. He alone. There was no getting out of it.
Other than, of course, the alternative. His own death at the hands of the Dark Lord. Harry was even less crazy about this possibility.
Harry watched out of the corner of his eye as Hermione sat down next to him, her knees folded together on the floor as her arms wrapped around them. "A rubber nose warmer?" he asked her without looking her in the eye, a smirk crossing his lips.
Hermione blushed. "I suppose I shouldn't expect a 'thank you' for that little bit of covering up, but if I hadn't told him something he would have taken it to work to find out what it was." Harry felt a little guilty at having teased her, but not too much. "What exactly did you think you'd be needing that for, anyway?"
"It wasn't my idea," Harry informed her. "It was the Dursleys; they seem to have a fanatical obsession with us and that." They sat in comfortable silence for a few more moments, Harry staring off into space and Hermione simply examining him, hoping to gain some insight into what he was thinking. Finally, Harry broke the silence with a soft-spoken question. "What did you and Ron talk about?"
Hermione's eyes darted away suddenly, as if now unable to look at Harry at all. "Not much, really," she said in a tone that was too casual to be genuine. "Just silly things. Nothing you'd be interested in."
'Want to bet?' Harry thought bitterly, but refrained from saying it aloud. What he did say surprised even him, just a little. "So you didn't tell him what we've been up to, then? You pretending to be my girlfriend, Auburn Summer, the Serpent's Tooth, the attack on Britannicus Leslie, what happened to my grandparents..."
Hermione looked startled. "No, I..." She put her hand to her mouth. "Oh, Harry," she continued, nervousness evident in her shaky voice, "you must think I'm terrible for keeping this from Ron." Harry suppressed the very strong urge to laugh out loud. If only she knew what he was keeping from Ron, as well as the big thing he hadn't told either of them: the prophecy. But of course there were good reasons for that. "I suppose I thought I could just- oh, I don't know- keep him safe if he didn't know about it. Which is rather stupid, really, now that I think about it." Her eyes widened dramatically and Harry was suddenly very interested in what Hermione was saying. "I'm sure that if anything happened to us and he didn't even know what was going on, he'd be furious and upset and betrayed and...well...you know he would have wanted to help us. He would want to be at our side if our lives were in danger." She bit her lip slightly and turned her worried eyes up to meet Harry's. "D'you think we should tell him?"
Harry stood in silence, her words washing over him. Not for the first time today, he felt overwhelmed. He said the first thing that popped into his head, which probably wasn't a good idea. "So," he said, his voice much softer than he had intended, "does this mean that you didn't ask Ron to be your date to the Youth Masque?"
Hermione shot him a puzzled frown. "Of course not!" She punched him lightly in the arm. "I just said that I didn't tell him anything about what we've been doing! Besides, you know how he would be in a place full of muggles, so completely out of sorts and I thought, well I hoped, you might be my date." Her words were rushed and sounded awkward coming out of her mouth.
Harry was amused by how nervous she was at asking him out. He grinned winningly. "Of course, Hermione. I'd love to." The humour in his eyes then vanished in an instant, replaced by apprehension. "But there's something I need to tell you first."
Hermione sighed. "Harry, I know the only other girl you've gone on a date with is Cho Chang and that it went badly. I've seen you attempt to dance. I know that that knight costume looks hideous on you. What else is there that I could possibly need to know before I go out with you?"
Harry hedged anxiously. "Oh, I don't know, I think there might be something like the fact that there's a prophecy that says that I either have to kill Voldemort or he has to kill me and neither can live while the other survives," Harry blurted out all at once.
Hermione blinked repeatedly and her head moved reflexively back from his own. "Harry, that's...that's..." She was seemingly sifting through her own thoughts, trying to make sense of them. Harry knew the feeling. "Well, I'd like to say that it's surprising, but then Ron would probably just yell 'Surprise!' again." Harry couldn't help it. He started laughing. Hermione joined in, although there was a hint of worry in her own amusement. "Here, Harry," Hermione said as she handed him a wrapped parcel from behind her back. "Open my present. I wanted to wait until we were alone. I thought..." She stopped herself and gave him a small smile. "Just open it."
Harry did so quickly and discovered a series of photographs, each featuring a waving and happy young Sirius Black, some with him standing alongside Harry's father and Lupin, others with just Sirius and some with him and what seemed like a never-ending stream of attractive women. 'I really could have used Sirius' advice on this,' Harry thought a little sadly as he looked up at Hermione. "It's wonderful, Hermione. Thank you."
Their eyes were locked on each other for a fleeting moment, then Hermione looked away, her eyes fixating on the back of her hand. "You won't be alone," she declared softly, as if afraid that someone standing close to them would overhear, even though Harry saw no one around. "It doesn't matter what some prophecy says. When the time comes for you to face him, I'll be there. You won't ever be alone in this, Harry. Not with me here."
Her right hand found his left knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. Both of them were a bit more teary-eyed than they'd prefer to be around each other, but neither of them could look away from the other's gaze. Harry thought back to Lupin's advice and opened his mouth to talk to her about his feelings, but no sound came out. How could he tell her how much she meant to him, after she'd just declared her devotion to him in such a powerful way? Could he even find the words to do it? "Hermione..." Well, he had managed to say her name. That was a start. At least she would know he didn't have her confused with Ron. "I don't know what more I could possibly ask of you, after everything...but I just want you to know that... that there's nobody I'd rather face Voldemort with than you."
"Harry...that's..." Hermione's eyes welled up with tears and she threw herself into his arms. Harry stroked her back gently as she pressed her face close to his. 'Well, so much for talking,' Harry thought. 'This is loads better.'