Disclaimer- Who would I be kidding? Of course it's not mine.
Author's note- And here it is, what, two years later? And that's why we like one-shots. If there's anyone at all still reading, congratulations, you reached the end.
Summer '96
Chapter 11
Throughout the years that Harry had known the Weasley family, the Burrow had always represented many things to him. It was home. It was family. It was love. Never before had it presented him with fear. Maybe it was the very chill that had come to surround the place in their absence – the mist that clouded the structure, casting it into an eerie gloom. Or perhaps it was the anticipation of being lectured by Mrs. Weasley and several other Order members that caused Harry to shiver as he gazed at the house. He blinked a couple of times, trying to regain his composure after the rather uncomfortable experience of side-along apparition. Feeling a gentle prod from Tonks behind him, he started forward to follow Ron and Ginny to their home.
The air inside the Burrow was too tense to be breathable. The Order members that had accompanied them in took seats around the kitchen table, leaving the three of them to stand uncomfortably at the center of attention. Many of the witches and wizards around the room took their turn to speak, to chastise them for their reckless and irresponsible behavior, but none quite as much so as Mrs. Weasley. With the rage born of a worried mother, she drilled into each of them, reducing herself to tears of relief mingled with disappointment. Harry hardly heard a word of any of it. He was truly sorry for the worry he had caused everyone, and he hated that Mrs. Weasley was placed in such a terrible situation, but he simply couldn't concentrate on the countless admonitions thrown his way when one still rang throughout his memory.
He wasn't able to take his eyes off of Lupin, who had remained silent since their arrival and who was now staring resolutely at the table before him.
Harry wanted to say something to apologize, to make Lupin understand. It was the first time he really realized that the man cared about him enough to resent him for making him worry. Harry was glad that he had done what he had done, but he also understood that such a reckless action was selfish and unfair to someone who had also just suffered a great loss. He had done exactly what Sirius had done, exactly what he had told Sirius not to do. He could hardly blame Lupin for being angry.
It didn't look like he was going to be able to approach the other man now, however. Mr. Weasley was ushering them toward the stairs, and Harry caught snatches of conversation involving words like "sleep" and "tomorrow" and "punishment." He took one last glance at Lupin, then went upstairs to bed.
On the day of his sixteenth birthday, Harry Potter was once again to be found cleaning. Everyday since their return from the United States, Mrs. Weasley had set Ron, Ginny, and Harry a new chore to do around the house. As further punishment, they were also expected to aid any Order members that happened to pass through, which usually meant organizing paperwork for their actual jobs. The three had done everything from sift through piles of Professor McGonagall's course work to help Kingsley Shacklebolt understand common muggle terminology for his new position at the Prime Minister's office. And still they had not seen Lupin.
"Who the hell came up with the idea for a feather duster?" Ron burst out suddenly from the other side of the living room. "You try to clean with the bloody thing and all it does is shed everywhere. What's the point?"
"Hey, it's better than cleaning out Grimmauld Place," said Ginny, her face reflected in the antique mirror she was polishing. "At least nothing at our house tries to murder you when you pick it up."
Harry looked over at her from his position by the window and caught her eye in the mirror. She grinned and looked away.
"I wonder if Hermione is being forced to do manual labor," Ron grumbled sullenly.
"Her parents probably just confiscated all of her books," Harry absentmindedly responded, "that'd be enough punishment for a lifetime."
"All they'd have to do is take away one," corrected Ginny with a laugh, which was quickly stifled with the arrival of her mother.
Mrs. Weasley had been extremely on-edge lately, carrying around the famed Weasley clock and making it her personal goal to know where everyone was during all hours of the day. It was the desire of none of them to make her angrier than she already was. "Looks good," she commented imperiously, nodding at the room as a whole. "You lot can stop for today. You should get washed up and come down to help out for dinner – we have several guests coming after all."
"Guests?" asked Ginny.
"Well yes, of course." And with this she broke into the first smile Harry had seen her wear in days. "It's Harry's birthday. We wouldn't forget."
The three of them exchanged looks of surprise as the older woman exited the room, and then they moved as one to go get ready.
Several hours, three courses, and many 'happy birthdays' later, Harry sat, stuffed, at the Weasleys' kitchen table. Despite everything that had happened, despite the war, the deaths, the utter hatred and confusion surrounding his life, for this one moment Harry found that he was happy. He was away from his life as 'the Chosen One,' the hero that everyone expected so much of. In this moment, he was with his friends, the only family he had ever known, and ages away from anything else. Call it … a vacation.
Lupin entered just as Ron was regaling the events of their trip for two eager twins, one television-curious father, one disapproving mother, and many other intrigued guests. He went unnoticed by most, but caught Harry's eye from across the room. Putting down the card that he had received from Hermione, Harry exchanged a nod with Mrs. Weasley and then followed Lupin outside and into the garden.
The night was brisk – too cool for a natural July evening. Images of dementors entered Harry's mind and he shook involuntarily, as if the thought itself could drop the temperature even further. He watched Lupin for a moment as the man searched for the words he wanted to say. And then he decided he was taking too long.
"Look Remus," he began almost pleadingly, "I wanted to apologize for, well, for everyth– "
But Lupin stopped him mid-sentence. "Harry, I … I know you're sorry," he said. "One of those similarities you share with your father – a knack for looking guilty when genuinely so." He grinned slightly. "Lily could spot it a mile off. I know you're sorry. I know you understand, and I appreciate that." Harry waited while Lupin deliberated what to say next. "And … I'm sorry for not understanding when I should have," he said. "I know what it's like to want freedom from your life, from who you are. It's just, I was so scared. I'm the only one left, Harry. They were the reason I was never alone." He looked up sadly. "You're James' son, Sirius' godson. I don't want to lose you."
The two looked at each other, both arriving at the same sense of understanding. Then Lupin started forward suddenly and held out his arm for Harry to take. "Come on," he said, "I want to show you something."
Harry grabbed the man's arm and braced himself from the suffocating experience of apparition. It was barely moments before the peony bushes of Mrs. Weasley's garden disappeared and he found himself standing on the dark street of a place he had had no intention of ever seeing again. Number 12 Grimmauld Place emerged rapidly between 11 and 13, expanding the scenealmost imperceptibly. Harry just stared at it.
"I don't want to go in there," he muttered quietly to Lupin.
"I never do either. But there's something you need to see – something he wanted you to have."
Lupin broke away from him and made his way to the front door. Against his better judgement, Harry followed.
Although the house was still being used as headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, it was presently empty, the rooms and hallways echoing with silence. Ignoring the welling feeling of loss, anger, and resentment, Harry continued through the stale darkness and up the stairs after Lupin.
They soon arrived at a door on the second level that Harry could not remember having seen before. This confused him for a moment before he realized that the house of the Blacks hid many things. Lupin stopped abruptly and turned to face him.
"Sirius left you everything," the older man began, "this house, his money – everything. I know that means nothing to you, because I know that you'd rather have him than a pile of gold in a vault and a dusty house that he never loved. But he also left you this."
He turned the knob to the door behind him and stepped back to allow Harry to enter. At first Harry saw nothing, just the cloud of blackness that surrounded everything else in the wretched building. And then a shape began to emerge from the shadows, defining itself into a sleek, shining motorbike. It was as if all the air had been stolen from his lungs. Harry moved toward the enormous machine, and a flashback of a dream he'd once had entered into his mind's eye. A memory of floating above the world, not yet knowing anything, and seeing nothing but stars - billions of stars.
"It's been hidden for years," said Lupin quietly, as if respecting the dead. "Hagrid returned it to Dumbledore after, well…." He sighed. "I'm not aware of the specifics, but eventually it wound up here. I think Sirius thought it might come in handy. You can leave it here of course, until you need it."
Harry didn't know what to say, so all he said was, "Thanks."
Lupin smiled. "He loved this damn bike. It was a part who he was – it was his escape. Just promise me you won't fly it off to another country, okay? And if you ever do, don't let Hermione pick the destination. New York is really a lot more interesting."
"Alright," Harry laughed. "I promise." He ran one hand along the bike's seat, dreaming of the end of the last war, and the end of this one.
"Well, Molly's probably getting pretty worried now. I suppose we should head back. After all, we wouldn't want you to have to clean anymore than you already do. I hear Mad-Eye is thinking of bringing over his traveling cloaks for a quick wash…."
"I'll be on my guard, thanks," said Harry with a smile.
They began to move toward the door, but something in the corner caught Harry's attention. He reached down to pick it up and found it to be a dusty locket he remembered as one of the many items that they had tried to throw away in their attempts to clean Grimmauld Place last year. Kreacher must have dropped it in here…. Engraved with the letter 'S,' the locket shown dully within his fingers. Without knowing exactly why, he pocketed it.
Lupin spoke from the door and he jumped slightly. "You coming?"
"Yeah, sorry." Taking one last look at his godfather's bike, he turned to leave.
Everything had changed, Harry reflected as he stood outside with Lupin and watched the house shrink out of sight once more. But everything had always been changing. Voldemort was back, they were in a war, Sirius was gone. He simply had to find a way to change things for the better. Until then, he was here, he was living. He had his friends, his family, and he had the memory of one excellent summer. And things would always change.
He grasped Lupin's arm, and with a small pop, they were gone.
The end.
Author's note- Okay, so, if I'm not speaking to a theater full of empty seats, I would absolutely love to hear anyone's views. I can't say sorry enough for the long wait, but I promised I would finish, and I did. Thanks.
