It was on Saturday morning that Harry got the letter from his cousin telling him Lupin used to be a good friend of his father's – and Sirius Black.
„Well," he said, showing it to Neville, „Now, thinking back to that class, it makes me wonder...I thought he was just incompetent, but..."
"Well, it's not like it was a plot to kill us, is it?" Neville muttered.
"No, but it was hardly kind-hearted. Just the sort of thing I'd expect a friend of Black's to do out of spite."
"He was your dad's friend, too, you know," Neville pointed out.
"Yeah, and if the first class hadn't been like that, I'd be more inclined to see him in that light," Harry replied, "but...Alduin is warning me not to trust him, and after this, I completely agree with him. He might not be exactly a follower of Riddle, but he's not the kind who'd have tried to set Black straight."
Sophie was embarrassed and silent and didn't want to talk about what her Boggart turned into, but in the end, Neville coaxed it out of her with patient words and with pointing out that had not even been allowed to face his fears, so she had nothing to be ashamed of in front of him.
"The first was my father," she admitted finally, quietly. "My biological father, I mean."
"You still see him?" Neville asked in surprise.
"Yeah...he comes to take me and my brother out about once a month, or he did before I went to Hogwarts." Sophie sighed. "I like my step-dad much better, really, but...well. I grew up with this one, you know?"
"The other guy was your brother?" Neville guessed.
"Yeah, my eldest brother," Sophie confirmed.
"Well, you did say he was a prat."
Sophie laughed shakily.
She did not blame Lupin for the class, not really, but who was absolutely furious were the Hufflepuffs, Susan and Hannah in particular.
Harry met them on Monday on their way to lunch, just after they had their first class. Susan was practically fuming. "He told us," she said, when Harry asked what was wrong, "that many of you – bloody Gryffindors – found the class difficult to handle, but that he didn't want to rob us off it, so he was gonna do it with us anyway. Can you imagine the nerve of that man?"
"It was terrible," Hannah muttered. "Terrible."
"Hannah is afraid of flesh-eating worms," Susan explained, still in the same angry tone. "So they appeared and started to move towards her, and so I had to step in, but of course then the corpses of my dead cousins appeared – Mathilda was only two years old when they killed her, did you know that? - and I just started to shake and...oh, what a dreadful man. I almost want back Lockhart. At least he wasn't malicious!"
"Are you sure he was being malicious?" Harry asked. He had his own suspicions, too, but Neville was urging him not to judge too fast, and so he way trying to stay objective. "I dunno...sometimes I think he's just clueless..."
"Harry," Susan said, still angry and talking to him as if he was slow, "he literally told us that he knew the class traumatized you and he was still going to teach us the same one."
"He did say we could let him know if we wanted to opt out," Hannah murmured. "I just didn't think...I didn't realize actually seeing the worms would be that horrifying, you know?"
"Lucky you," Susan said. "I know exactly how the corpses of my cousins look, since I regularly see them in nightmares. Didn't make looking at them any easier."
"I'm sorry, Susan," Harry said miserably.
She shook her head. "It's not you who should be sorry...it's not like you're better off. Did you...see your parents?"
"No, I saw Riddle and Black together," Harry replied. He didn't quite understand why Susan saw her dead relatives – he was sad about his dead parents, and angry, not afraid of them – but it seemed rude to ask.
"Now that is a horrifying though!" Susan agreed. "I hope they catch him as soon as possible."
"Wouldn't count on it," Harry replied, feeling good that he could say something sensible on a serious topic like this. "My cousin says that if he managed to escape Dementors in Azkaban, it will only be easier for him outside."
"The Dementors looking for him are silly," Susan confirmed. "My aunt says so too."
"Your aunt?" The only one Harry recalled was the dead one, and he was quite sure that was not the one Susan meant.
"Oh, didn't you know? She's the head of MLE – Magical Law Enforcement," she added when she saw Harry's confused look.
"Oh!" Harry stared. "But if the Ministry thinks it's stupid too, then why-?"
"I think it was the Minister's personal wish. I get the impression he's a little silly sometimes."
Harry remember that Shacklebolt visit when the Traverses and their guests talked about how it must have been the Hufflepuffs who arranged for Fudge's election. It seemed, however, that not even that house liked him. It was quite a mystery how he stayed in his job, really.
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The very same evening, Harry had his first duelling lesson with Snape in the new school year. Given what had happened on Friday, he wasn't exactly in the mood to patiently tolerate the unpleasant teacher snapping at him, and while he did manage to bite his tongue and not to say anything, he couldn't quite control his expression, or the waspish tone of his 'yes sir's.
"You're very surly today, Potter," Snape observed before a quarter of an hour has run out. "More like your father than I've ever seen you. Get out, and unless you can get your attitude under control before next week, the classes are cancelled."
Harry took a deep breath, clenched his fists, and headed towards the door.
Just before he reached it, however, he stopped.
"May I ask you a question, sir? It may seem inappropriate."
"In that case, no."
Harry grit his teeth even harder. "I'm afraid I need to ask if I'm to...get my attitude under control."
"That's your problem, not mine," Snape commented laconically.
Harry took a deep breath. "Why did you say what you said about Neville, sir? On Friday?"
There was a silence, and a little nervous now, Harry turned around, only to see Snape giving him a long, intent look, most of the anger gone from his face. "Try to figure that one out on your own," he said then, motioning to the door. "It'll be a useful exercise for you."
Harry left the room seething. He didn't want an exercise, he wanted a straightforward answer. A reason for such...well, shitty behaviour, there was no other word for it. Sure Snape was no charmer, but lately he'd tended to be mostly fair towards them, though strict. Was it just because he hated Lupin so much? After what happened and what he now knew, Harry could sort of relate, and it certainly explained the poisonous looks he kept giving Lupin, but that was no reason to take it out on Neville, was it?
He plopped down next to the boy in the common room, and Neville gave him a curious look. "You're back early," he said.
"Yeah," Harry said grimly, and at Neville's questioning look, obligingly spilled the beans.
"So there was actually a reason for it," Neville said when he heard Snape's parting line, sounding immensely relieved.
"Yeah, but I don't know it," Harry pointed out.
Neville waved his hand. "It doesn't matter...I was just so worried it was going to be back to how it was in first year...it's a relief to know he had some mysterious Snapish reason."
"But what reason is there?" Harry insisted, curious now that he was a little less angry in light of Neville's relief. "There are better ways to irritate Lupin, right?"
"Well, looking back at it, he sort of had a point," Neville muttered. "I really wasn't right for the job-" He paused. "Do you think he knew?"
Harry considered. "Well, Lupin did say something about making a request to keep the Boggart for third years, right?"
"Right! Snape must have known it'd be a disaster." Neville looked extremely confused. "Was he – was he actually trying to help me out?"
"Couldn't he have done that like a normal person?" Harry asked, irritated, but then shook his head. "What am I saying, it's still Snape."
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When Theodore next came for a friendly visit just with his children, it was cold and raining outside, so the children were dispatched to go play in Wynn's nursery in company of three elves instead before the adults gathered for their important discussion.
"It can be done," Theodore said as soon as they were alone, "and I know how."
"We're all ears, then," Alexandra replied.
The explanation of the ritual was long and technical and Alduin only understood about half of it. It didn't put unreasonable strain either on resources or on people, though, which was the important part.
"I talked to Mrs. Gerard, too, like you told me I should," Theodore added, "and with Perpetua's help, we managed to come up with an idea for that handle that would make it possible to put the Cup through. It uses a levitation charm, to distance the holder from direct contact, and it should anonymize the magic enough that-"
Alduin waved his hand. "I trust your wife's charm skills enough to not to need a detailed explanation of this as well. When can we set out?"
"Give me two days."
And so, in two days' time in the afternoon, Alduin, Muhammad, Sarabeth and Mrs. Gerard met in the laboratory of Travers Manor once again, together with Theodore.
The preparation took a long time, and required a lot of chalk and precise drawing of lines to create a likeness of the cup on the ground, and then they put the Horcrux in the middle and began to chant.
It was not a pleasant experience. The cup seemed to be fighting them, as if unwilling to follow the direction where the incantation was pulling it, but at long last, they all felt as if a bit of cork popped out of a bottle and – it was done.
Theodore cast a few detection charms. "See?" He said. "You can actually see the enchantments on the original cup now, since it's not all so entangled any more. The soul fragment is only loosely connected now. We have to hurry, though, the effect doesn't last long before it settles back."
They all filed from the laboratory to the receiving room, and succeeding pops of apparition transported them to the Ministry, mostly abandoned this late in the day. They headed to the Department of Mysteries, where Thomas Croaker awaited them before the closed door.
"The department is empty except for one bloke in the Hall of Prophecies," he said.
Alduin only nodded. "Can we go in, then?"
"Of course. Come on."
He led them through the Door Room to the grim amphitheatre of death. Theodore pulled out the handle. "So," he asked, "who will do the honours?"
"I'm not the head of a house, nor do I have young children," Mrs. Gerard said, and with a look at Sarabeth, added, "and you already had the pleasure with the diary. Let me."
Alduin felt guilty about it, but her case was well argued, and she did offer, so he gave a nod.
Mrs. Gerard picked up the cup with the handle and slowly began to walk towards the veil.
The cup touched it.
Everyone held their breath.
There was a long, protracted scream, and Alduin's blood froze before he realized that it wasn't Mrs. Gerard screaming, it was the fragment of Riddle's soul as it was separated from its host.
Mrs. Gerard stepped back, alive and the cup looking just the same as before.
It was done.
Another Horcrux was destroyed.
It was time to visit the Smiths and return a bit of family heirloom to them.
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Thankfully, the Defence classes improved in time, with less creatures seemingly tailored to give the students trauma and more that were dangerous it that straightforward "trying to do you bodily harm" way. It was a relief, and it turned out Lupin was a good teacher, really, when he managed to actually think his classes through. Harry was slowly but steadily leaning away from his fear and prejudice, though he was still being cautious. What if Lupin only changed his approach because of the backslash he got?
The new subjects got better, too. In Runes, they started to actually learn to do spells with them, not just practice writing, and Harry suddenly discovered what Horatio found so interesting. As for Care of Magical Creatures, they spent the first half of September with flobberworms and horklumps, animals Harry felt he knew more than he ever wanted to about with just one glance at them, but then Professor Grubbly-Plank said they deserved a reward for being patient while she tested their skills and obedience and so she brought a kneazle to the class after that.
It looked pretty much like a regular cat to Harry, until it looked at him and he could see its eyes. There was intelligence there no cat would ever have.
The kneazle walked to him and around him, giving him a look that seemed suspicious, and started to wrap itself around his feet.
"She wants to be picked up," Professor Grubbly-Plank said, but Harry, who had enough experience with cats from Mrs. Figg, was already bending down to take the creature in his arms.
It looked very happy, until Harry put it close to his chest. Then, suddenly, it began to hiss as its fur stood up, and it stared at his scar.
Harry sighed.
"Yeah, I know," he said quietly. "I hate it too, but what can I do?"
The kneazle gave him a dubious look and then indicated wanting to be put down, apparently desirous of meeting the others, too. Harry felt a memory tugging at his mind, as if he'd seen this behaviour before. It took him a while to remember where, though.
But then, when he saw Sophie playing with it, he suddenly knew: it reminded him of Hermione's cat. He, too, acted a little erratic around Harry, sometimes friendly and sometimes hissing. Could it have been a reaction to his scar, too? Was Crookshanks part kneazle? Professor Grubbly-Plank did say they could cross-breed with cats…
He mentioned the theory to Hermione as soon as he saw her.
"Now I'm even more frustrated I didn't take Creatures," was her first response, but she did agree that it was probably likely. She then promptly disappeared to the library, no doubt to research kneazles.
Quidditch trials happened in mid-September, too, but to no-one's surprise, the composition of the Gryffindor Quidditch team stayed the same as the year before. However, Harry finally made good on his word and had Oliver talk to Ron about strategy. After one chat, the captain was thrilled and decided to take Ron on as his strategic advisor, as he said.
Ron's first, and rather forcefully stated, advice was to get substitute players, and so try-outs were held once again. Ron's surprise when Ginny got the substitute Seeker position knew no bounds. Ginny, personally, appeared less thrilled.
"I wanted to be a Chaser," she muttered.
"I think you're better as Chaser," Harry replied, "but well, there's no one better for Seeker, and you know we can play one Chaser short much more easily."
Sophie got the reserve Keeper position, to her great joy, and Dean became a reserve Chaser, along with two people from higher years Harry didn't know. He had never heard about the substitute Beaters either. Seamus was a little upset that there was no space on the team left for him, which Harry had to admit was understandable. Out of those in their year who were interested in playing, he was the only one not to be involved.
Oliver was disappointed by last year's defeat and made them work even harder this year, even though many in the team seemed to believe that with Harry on a Firebolt, all fears were unfounded and they had the victory in the pocket.
"Just remember, Harry," Angelina kept telling him, "at least let us shoot a few goals every time."
It was during one of their practices that Harry noticed Professor Lupin sitting in the stands. It made him a little uncomfortable, but he decided to face it head-on.
"You went to see our practice, Professor?" He asked when he met the teacher on the way back to the castle. "Did you use to play?"
"No, not me," Lupin replied.
Harry waited for a while to see if he'd elaborate, but when nothing was forthcoming, asked: "So it was just that you used to watch my father?"
Lupin gave him a slightly alarmed look. "How did you-?"
Harry almost rolled his eyes. "My cousin told me."
Lupin gave a sigh. "Ah, of course. Little Alduin."
Harry was a little irritated, and reminded of Sophie's Boggart-brother. "He's only a year younger than you, isn't he?"
"Yes, of course. It's just that that's what James – your father – always called him." Lupin sighed again. "It's such a long time ago."
"Were you very close?" Harry asked probingly.
"With your cousin?"
This time Harry did roll his eyes. "No, with my father."
"Oh, yes. James was the best friend I could ever hope for," Lupin said with a soft smile.
"And Black?" Harry asked pointedly.
Lupin was immediately on his guard. "What do you mean?"
"Well, Black was my father's best friend," Harry said drily. "What was he to you?"
"Little Alduin told you that as well, did he?" Lupin asked evasively.
"Of course he did." Harry was growing more irritated by the minute. "Did you think he would keep something like that a secret from me?"
"He always kept secrets," Lupin said sort of absent-mindedly. "But never mind that. Yes, I...knew Sirius Black. Or I thought I did, anyway."
Harry wondered. Alduin told him they were all very close friends together. Was Lupin trying to play it down because he was ashamed, or to avert suspicion, he wondered?
"Do you offer older students Patronus classes?" He asked after a moment of uncomfortable silence. There had been no mention of that in their class, and he had wondered.
"No." Lupin smiled a little condescendingly. "I'm sure your cousin would have told you about it, but it's a very difficult charm."
Harry gritted his teeth. "I know. I learned it during the summer. I'm pretty sure at least the NEWT-level students could handle it, and with so many Dementors around school..."
"You've truly managed to produce something?" Lupin asked in surprise.
Harry's irritation was reaching unbearable levels, and he stopped and pulled out his wand. "Expecto Patronum!" He called out, thinking of his last mirror-call with Wynn, and his silvery stag strolled out of his wand.
"Prongs," Lupin whispered.
"Prongs?" Harry asked, uncomprehending.
"It was your father's nickname. He was...his Patronus was a stag too." Lupin seemed to smile a little at the memory. "Your mother's was a doe."
That successfully distracted Harry from his anger. "Is that how you find the person you're meant to marry?" He asked curiously. "By matching Patronuses?"
"No always, no," Lupin replied. "It's only the truly exceptional cases. They...it was true love, you know?"
Thinking of what Harry knew about his parents' relationship, how his father tormented his mother's best friend and how she kept refusing him for a long time because of that, Harry wondered. He wondered very much.
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AN: As for Snape, far be it from me to excuse his bullying of students, but this particular case is something else. Out-universe, I know Rowling just wanted to have an excuse to make Lupin likeable by having him help Neville make fun of Snape, but it was ridiculously contrived – what, was Snape just accidentally in the staff room, alone, at that point? Why? Was he waiting there specifically to be unpleasant to Neville? The in-universe explanation that it was, in fact, intentional, that he was trying to warn Lupin obliquely because he felt it was unconscionable making Neville face his fears, but was still enough of a bastard to do it in the most unpleasant and humiliating way possible...well, that works much better for me than "he was just randomly sitting there".