Chapter Fifteen
"Does he know about the prophecy?"
"That is unlikely. But, obviously, I couldn't ask."
"Couldn't you just look?"
"That is not the purpose of the lessons. I only view the memories he offers up. It would be disrespectful, if I were to take advantage."
Lily nodded, slowly, before she drew back to look at him; "Is he okay?"
"Shaken, somewhat. As you'd expect when you're aware that you are to be hunted."
Severus brushed the hair that had tumbled forward back over her shoulder, before leaning up to press a kiss to the newly exposed flesh below her ear; "But he is stronger than I gave him credit for."
Lily was smiling when he leaned back, allowing his head to rest back against the less-than-comfortable floor of his office. His office at the Foundation. The doors – both doors – now double, nay, triple locked.
Lily had come back to him, perhaps a week after the first encounter, and Severus had been beyond eager to continue what they had started that day. The slightest hint that she was keen for the same and he had her pressed against the desk, the two of them touching and tasting and grinding together until Severus had finally given in and started undoing the buttons of her blouse.
Took his time, because they may as well do it right if they were going to go ahead with it, and he only surrendered himself when she was beneath him, gasping and hopelessly pliable in his hands.
Now, of course, he was more than a little embarrassed at his weakness.
They had just had sex. In the office.
How the Mighty have fallen, indeed. Severus had always scorned those who could not control themselves, so much so that they thought it appropriate to completely disrobe and satisfy their basic urges in the middle of a workday. It was obscene!
With a brief glance in the direction of the adjourning door, he wondered if Regulus had heard the clicks of the locks being enacted. If he was sitting on the other side snickering and rehearsing some ridiculous spiel to the same effects as Severus' previous thoughts.
He had always disparaged Regulus of his lack of control when it came to women, after all.
And now Severus, himself, had joined the ranks of the uncontrollable.
Severus shouldn't be enjoying it but he was.
Pah. It was worth it.
"Should I come to the school? Speak with him?"
"I doubt Harry would appreciate that," Severus attempted to dissuade her; "As it happens, he appears to be a little more willing to put himself in my hands, to some degree, during these lessons which is having the happy effect of increasing his focus and, in turn, his chances of success. His mother showing up in his dorm room demanding answers to questions arising from said lessons would only lead him to distrust me, potentially undoing all that has been achieved."
Indeed, his standing with the boy was already on shaky enough ground as it was right now, following the events of their more recent encounter. Severus had not told Lily the details of that, saying only that her son's abilities had improved well enough that he was now capable of fighting him off, somewhat.
Severus had yet to see how the revelations from this morning would affect the lessons, longer term, now that his acrimonious relationship with his father and Godfather had been brought to light.
Lily was smiling, warmly, when his mind came back to the present.
"What?"
"Harry, is it?"
Severus tilted his head to the side, realising the, seeming, slip; "Indeed. As you have always insisted."
"Which you have always ignored."
"I do not ignore it. I slip up. Only to be expected, when I spend so much of my time with him regarding him as 'Potter'."
"Ah. And now you regard him as 'Harry', do you?"
Severus gave her a smile, before lowering his eyes, thinking on it, the change in perceptions.
Which seemed to have pleased Lily greatly, as his thought process did not get far – only enough for him to concede, in his mind, that the boy had very quickly and easily managed to step out from the picture Severus had assumed of him in his mind when he was simply Lily's son, and the boy he was sworn to protect, presenting himself as this living, breathing, engaging child – before Lily took his face in her hands and kissed him, deeply, practically purring with approval when she did.
Severus chuckled against her lips, unable to help himself, and it was easy to pretend, in that moment, that this was entirely right and normal, and forget the true circumstances that had led them to this; reacquainting themselves on the office floor.
"Ugh, I better go."
Lily stood, leaving him bereft of her weight above him, beginning to dress, and Severus stood to do the same.
"I have to check in at St Mungo's on the way home," she explained, as she did up the buttons of her blouse.
"A new trial?"
"No. Well. Yes, I suppose," Lily shrugged into her robes, not quite meeting his eyes.
"Lily?" Severus probed further, when he quickly picked up on her discomfort.
She met his eyes, drawing in a breath, as if forcing herself to push on with whatever she was going to say; "Healer Clay approached me the other day. He thinks that James –" she stumbled a little over the name; "- might benefit from the new variations his team have been working on. So…"
"Ah. So you have set up a meeting with him."
Lily nodded, meeting his eyes, and Severus could swear there was almost an apology in them when they did.
He only nodded; "Of course. Well. Give Clay my best, it has been some time since I've had the chance to converse with him."
"I will," Lily smiled, in seeming relief, and then she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his neck and drawing him down for another kiss.
"I love you," she murmured against his lips, before she drew back.
Severus pressed his forehead to hers, smiling warmly; "I am aware."
He very quickly deduced that it seemed as if she needed to hear that, more that a reaffirmation of his own feelings.
Her smile widened and she giggled, rolling her eyes, and stepped away, making backwards steps towards the door; "It was a pleasure to see you again, Professor," she dipped her head slightly at the title, and he smirked, quickly casting the charms to open the curtains and unlock the doors, granting her leave.
And, after she did, could only roll his eyes, for it was the second time that day that James Potter had invaded a perfectly happy moment, and he wondered if they would ever be able to escape the shadow that that, particular, ghost cast over his family.
Harry felt sick.
He didn't even know that Snape had known his father and Uncle Sirius.
The unexpected discovery that not only he had but they had treated him like that had hit him like a bludger to the stomach. Along with a sudden realisation why Snape had seemed to dislike him so much for the past three years. All the detentions, the weird looks, the refusal to engage, even when Harry raised his hand in class; it was all about his dad.
Other than a hazy memory of his dad lying there, staring straight through him from his hospital bed, the look of loathing on James Potter's face when Harry looked at him in Snape's memories was the only image he had in his mind of the man who had married his mum and been his dad.
Harry wanted to erase it, immediately.
He had no memories of his dad, no, but he liked what he had heard, ever since coming up to Hogwarts. People praising him to the skies for being a hero, a Quidditch legend, a prankster, Head Boy, telling Harry he looked just like him, that he was just like him.
They could not be talking about the same man Harry had just seen in Snape's memories.
But then, memories don't lie, he saw it with his own two eyes.
Sending Snape down a tunnel to meet a werewolf – Harry was certain that's what it was, though he'd only ever seen sketch works of them in his DADA textbooks – and taking his underwear off in front of the whole school. Harry was mortified just to have seen it, even in memory form, nevermind as a spectator or, worse, the victim of it.
Poor Snape!
He couldn't help but think it, though he knew the Potions Professor would not thank him for it.
Of course, Snape had picked up on his thoughts immediately – perhaps through legilliemency but Harry doubted he would have needed it, he was so shaken by it all – and kicked him out, immediately.
But it wasn't all his dad.
It was Sirius, too.
Harry may have only been seven when he lost him but he remembered everything about him. Everything. The way he would smile and hold his hand and hug him tight and tell him that he loved him. How he would laugh and play and be kind, the kindest and the best, and he had died for him when he could have just gotten out of the way and lived.
Harry couldn't believe what he had seen.
Would Snape obliviate him, if he asked, and save them both the mortification of this?
But, then, that was stupid. Erasing the memory wouldn't erase the truth.
Harry went through his classes in a daze, skipping breakfast and only going to dinner reluctantly when his stomach growled and tightened, painfully, reminding him that he hadn't even eaten anything at all that day.
Snape was at the teacher's table.
Ignoring him, of course.
Harry couldn't help his eyes drifting in his direction, even if he tried.
Professor Flitwick on Snape's left said something to him, getting his attention, and he raised his head to answer, his eyes meeting Harry's as he did.
Harry held his look.
Snape's eyes narrowed somewhat, after several moments passed, and then they lifted skywards and he shook his head, turning his attention entirely back to his almost-empty plate in front of him.
"What is it, Harry?"
Harry's attention was drawn back to those he had joined at the Gryffindor table when Hermione asked him the question.
"What?"
"You're been staring at Professor Snape ever since you got here. Has something happened?" Hermione asked, glancing between him and Snape.
"Oh. No? What could have happened?"
"I don't know. Maybe something during your private classes?"
"What?" Harry felt himself go pale.
"Your Remedial Potions classes," Hermione clarified, looking at him with a frown; "This morning, remember?"
"Oh. Those. Nah. They're going fine. Hey, Snape even said I was doing better. So."
"Well, that's good, then, isn't it? If you like, I could help you with anything you're unsure about. I was just about to draw up a study schedule for us, now that the exams are almost –"
Hermione's voice drowned out to nothingness, as Harry attention went back to the teacher's table up ahead.
His Uncle Remus had just joined them, giving a nod and a smiling hello in Snape's direction. Snape eyed him, returning the greeting with far less enthusiasm, and it was as if a light bulb had gone off in Harry's head.
Remus!
He had been at school with them, his dad and Uncle Sirius. Which meant he surely knew Snape back then, too, and, judging by the less-than-thrilled expression on Snape's face when they had spoken, Harry was pretty sure it stemmed from that time and, probably, Remus' involvement in it all, even if he hadn't been in any of the memories Harry had witnessed.
It was all Harry could do not to march up to the table and demand to speak to Remus right now, even as he only just began to fill up his plate.
Harry waited, impatiently, watching as Snape took his leave, studiously avoiding looking in Harry's direction at all. Waited and turned down Hermione's suggestion that they get to work revising straight away – 'we only have a few more weeks to go, now, you know' – and watched Remus take each bite with infuriating slowness.
Harry tapped his fingers on the table, watching him, shooting a returning smile Malachi's way when he walked by the table, heading back to the dungeons Harry guessed, and then turned his eyes back to Remus.
It was only half an hour, if that, but it felt like an age before Remus finally stood up to take his leave, making his way across the Great Hall at the opposite side of the room, towards the corridors.
Harry gathered up his things quickly and scrambled after him, almost breaking into a run by the time he caught up to him just outside the Hall.
Remus halted, hearing the commotion as Harry stumbled through the door, banging into it as he did. He shot him a wide smile; "Ah, hello, Harry. You seem in quite the rush this evening."
"Hi Uncle Remus."
"Uncle Remus is it, tonight?" Remus grinned, quickly picking up on the fact Harry's eagerness was to get to him.
"Yeah. I need to talk to you."
"I gathered. It seems rather urgent?"
"It's about my dad."
The playful smile on Remus' face lost some of its lustre, dimming more to a compassionate glance, and then he nodded, touching a hand to Harry's shoulder and guiding him in the direction of the Tower; "We'll talk in my chambers then, shall we?"
Harry only nodded, feeling breathless, and he wasn't entirely sure if it was the almost-run to get to Remus or his nerves that had done it, but he still didn't feel entirely composed when they eventually stepped across the threshold into his uncle's compartments. A place he hadn't actually had a chance to visit in the almost full year that Remus had been there.
"Hot chocolate, Harry?"
"Can't say no to that."
Remus chuckled; "No, you never could. Make yourself at home, I'll just be a minute."
Harry smiled, doing just that, taking a slow walk around the warm room that Remus had been allocated. There were books all over the shelves, haphazardly tossed here and there, and there were moving pictures, too, on various surfaces. There was one there of Remus and three other boys, when they were young, looking about Harry's age now, and Harry quickly recognised his Uncle Sirius to be one of the boys. Another careful glance and Harry was certain the one with the glasses was his dad. And another boy Harry didn't recognise on the end.
All the other pictures in the room were of him and Grace.
"Here you are," Remus said, as he stepped towards him from the kitchenette, holding a steaming mug of hot chocolate out to him; "Careful."
Harry took it, blowing on it and taking a sip immediately; "Thanks."
He nodded at the moving image of himself and Grace on the mantel; "I remember that. It was a nightmare. Trying to get Grace to stay close enough to me to be in the picture."
Remus laughed and nodded, lifting his own mug to his lips; "Yes, I do, too. She is quite the stubborn young lady, your sister."
"Do you miss them? Her and Mum, now that you're working here?"
"Ah, of course. But it is not a loss, no, not when I have someone I am equally fond of within these very walls."
Harry smiled, widely; "I'm glad you're here too, Uncle Remus."
"Of course. How else would you be able to satisfy your curiosity, if you had a question to ask and I weren't?"
Harry nodded, accepting the probe; "I wanted to ask you about my dad."
"What would you like to know?"
"What he was like. Really."
"Really?" Remus repeated, frowning curiously, as if confused at the inclusion of the word, but he went on without waiting for elaboration; "Well, your dad, he was very bright. Incredibly loyal. And far too cocky for his own good."
"So cocky he'd send another kid down a tunnel to a werewolf and think it's okay?"
Remus blanched, meeting Harry's eyes sharply.
"Wha – who…who told you that?"
"No one," Harry said, putting down his mug and more than a little confused at how horrified Remus looked; "I saw it. In Snape's memories. The Legilliemency spell rebounded during one of our lessons that I was telling you about."
Remus swallowed, glancing away; "I see."
"You would have known Snape at school back then, too, wouldn't you? Did you know what my dad did?"
"Yes, I did."
"Well. Tell me, then. I want to know."
Remus drew in a breath, seeming to avoid his eyes as he spoke; "As far as I'm aware, it was someone else who sent Professor Snape after the werewolf that night. And your father intercepted him, in an attempt to save him from being injured."
"Or eaten. You know, killed," Harry said, with a shrug, because 'injured' seemed like it would have been the best case scenario in the situation; "And 'someone else'? It was Uncle Sirius."
"Did Professor Snape speak to you?"
"No. He kicked me out. But the memories speak for themselves, right?"
"Hm."
Harry found himself growing frustrated by Remus' lack of response, lack of outrage over the whole thing, as he surely must agree with him how wrong it was, even if he was their friend.
Harry snapped; "How could they do that? Why would they?"
"Your father and Professor Snape, and Uncle Sirius, they had a very complicated relationship."
"Complicated?" Harry shook his head, feeling himself getting worked up as he reminded himself of all the other stuff he had seen; "I saw other things too, Uncle Remus. They were awful to him! My dad hung him upside down and took his underwear off in front of the whole school!"
"You saw all of this?"
"Yeah. I did. Did you?"
Remus looked utterly ashamed all of a sudden and he nodded, glancing away; "Yes. I did."
"Uncle Sirius called it 'Moony', the werewolf. It was like he knew it."
Remus drew in a breath, meeting Harry's eyes and sounding defeated when he spoke; "Harry, will you sit down? Please?"
Harry couldn't refuse. As worked up as he had felt, it was almost instantly deflated when he saw the look in Remus' eyes. As if he suddenly had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
They sat on the couch, Remus turning to face him.
"It was me, Harry."
Harry frowned, confused at the assertion; "What?"
"The werewolf you saw in Snape's memories. It was - is me."
For a minute, all Harry could do was stare.
"You're a werewolf?"
Remus nodded, slowly, a faraway look in his eyes; "There was an incident, long before I began at Hogwarts. I was bitten. And so the story goes."
"I…I had no idea."
"No. I was preparing to tell you, probably very soon. I suppose this has ensured I didn't back out."
It all made perfect sense, now that Harry knew the truth.
Every month, for as long as Harry could remember, Remus would disappear up to Scotland for days at a time, and return pale and sickly, looking like death in some case. Harry had known he was unwell, sure, but he hadn't made the link to the moon cycle, not ever.
Harry had no idea what to say. Except that he should maybe apologise, or something, because he'd just been calling his Uncle Remus this raging, dangerous animal and accused him of trying to eat Snape, and hadn't he just referred to him as an 'It'?
He said none of those things, his voice quiet when he finally asked; "Does it hurt?"
"Oh. Not for a long while, Harry," Remus shook his head, giving him a small smile; "There is a potion, Wolfsbane, that Professor Snape has been kind enough to provide me with. It eases most of the pain, allows me to maintain control of myself, to a degree. The wolf still emerges each full moon, but I keep control of my mind, my senses. I spend most of the time asleep, when not going through the transformations."
"Uncle Remus, I'm so sorry," Harry blurted out, suddenly overcome with guilt about all he had just said.
"Oh, Harry, don't be. Believe me, I've experienced much worse. And, besides, what you saw; you should not have had to see that. You shouldn't have had to learn about it this way."
Remus reached out, squeezing his shoulder, and giving him a warm smile, that very same smile that always made Harry feel safe and he released the breath he was holding.
"Did you…did you know what they were going to do?"
"Ah. No. Your Uncle Sirius…he was rather impulsive, shall we say, and did not often think of the consequences of his actions, even at the best of times. Certainly, if your dad hadn't intervened, it wouldn't have gone well for either of us; neither myself or Professor Snape."
"Why would he do that, though? What did Snape ever do to them?"
"Oh, well, there were a lot of issues there, between the three of them. A rivalry that had already begun, before I had even befriended them."
"A rivalry? It didn't look like rivalry to me. It looked like two on one."
Remus nodded, slowly, and Harry was pretty certain that, no, it wasn't two on one; it was those four boys in the picture against Snape. The guilt in his Uncle Remus' expression did nothing to dispel the certainty.
"We were…unkind to Professor Snape. As you said, the memories speak for themselves. It is not an aspect of my life that I'm proud of. Nor would your father be. But I wouldn't want this to taint your entire view of your dad, Harry. There were so many good qualities, so much goodness about him. He was just a bit of a plonker, that's all, when he was young. As most boys are, at fifteen."
Harry swallowed, finding it hard to believe, in light of what he'd seen.
He was only thirteen and even he wasn't that much of a 'plonker', as Remus put it.
Harry had never seen anything like it, ever. Even Ron and Draco didn't go at one another like that. And the Slytherins who bothered Malachi, hexes and jinxes, sometimes, Harry knew; but never that.
"That's why Professor Snape hates me. Because of what my dad and Uncle Sirius did to him."
Remus frowned; "Professor Snape doesn't hate you, Harry."
Harry shrugged, eyes on the floor, his need for reassurance about his Uncle Sirius and his dad not at all satisfied by the conversation – instead, he was just left wondering who else had a secret to tell, because it seemed as if everyone had something to hide.
Regulus Black was a Death Eater.
Uncle Remus was a werewolf.
His Uncle Sirius had tried to kill Snape.
And his dad…
Harry drew in a breath, meeting Remus' eyes; "I better go, I guess. Curfew."
"I can get you out of that if you want to stay a little longer."
Harry shook his head, getting to his feet; "It's okay. I'm a bit tired, anyway. The classes with Snape are really early, you know?"
Remus gave him a small smile, that didn't quite reach his eyes, and Harry quickly realised that he might be thinking that Harry had a problem with it; with him being a werewolf.
Harry quickly reassured him; "I'm not scared of you. Or upset. Or anything like that." He gave him a smile; "You're still just Uncle Remus."
Harry thought Remus' eyes glimmered, before he blinked and gave him another smile, a better one this time, and Harry gave him a tight hug, to reassert it.
"I'll see you in class tomorrow."
"You will. Goodnight, Harry."
"Night, Uncle Remus."
Harry kept thinking about it, about his dad and his Uncle Sirius and the werewolf – his Uncle Remus – even once his eyelids closed, and sleep came over him, the faces of them all lingering in his dreams until they, eventually faded away as the all-too-familiar nightmares of Voldemort and his Death Eaters returned once more.