Chapter Thirty-Seven

This was a disaster.

A complete and utter travesty!

It was so much worse than Remus could have ever imagined.

He had taken the weekend which, really, was far too long to try and get his head around this mess – not even of his own bloody making – and, when it came down to it, he just could not do what Harry had asked him to do.

He couldn't.

He loved that boy. He loved him with every damn bone in his body – he would die for him, just as Sirius had, if it ever came down to it – but he could not do this. He couldn't keep this secret – another secret – not now, not with all that was at stake.

Grace.

He loved that little girl, too.

The way Harry had found out, the grief, the betrayal – all which could have been contained, or lessened, somewhat if Lily had just gotten her head out of her arse and told him about this herself before all of this happened – Remus could not imagine Harry ever getting over this.

But that, as awful as the truth of it may be, that was no longer what was important. There was no way Harry would be able to keep control of himself and his emotions now, and be expected to keep a lid on his bubbling fury, which only left him vulnerable. It left Grace vulnerable.

Remus told himself to remain calm; Lily and Grace were already hunted – or at least pursued – by the Death Eaters, simply for their connection to Harry alone, they would be quite safe, at home and at the Foundation for the time being.

The same could not be said for Snape, though, if he were to be summoned before his Master.

Remus had kept a close watch on him, ready to intervene if it seemed as if he were about to leave the Castle, but the Potions Master had remained put.

He would be going to the Foundation today, at least, though – Monday – and Remus had to get this done quickly.

He had to.

This needed sorted, now, but like hell was he going to go to bloody Snape about it. He'd have him wrung before he even finished his opening statement.

He had to go to Lily.

Throw it all away, everything he had with Harry, the tiny bit of trust the boy had held out to him, when he had asked him to keep quiet – albeit, not with any great warmth when he did – and Remus would break it. That tiny morsel, snuffed out, but there was no other way.

Not anymore.

He made his way from the Castle, his free morning allowing it, and apparated to Yorkshire.

Something was not quite right.

Severus couldn't put his finger on it, exactly, what it was he was sensing.

But it had all started that moment in his office, when Severus had caught Harry looking at him, for all intents and purposes, as if he had seen a ghost and ever since then the boy had avoided all eye contact whatsoever, whenever they happened to be in the same vicinity as one another.

It wasn't often, to be honest, what with it being the weekend. Just mealtimes in the Great Hall, during which times, in the past, Harry's eyes would often find his and, sometimes, there would even be a smile – which the boy should not be doing, so openly, as he well knew – or passing by one another in the corridors, during which Harry's behaviour would be the very same.

But now there was utter avoidance of any sort of acknowledgement of his presence at all. Harry kept his head ducked, his gaze averted, and he most definitely wouldn't smile if Severus were to catch his eyes, Severus knew that much.

He had offended him, he supposed, in some way and, now, Harry was blowing it out of proportion; his early dismissal from the lesson the previous week.

It wasn't that Severus was concerned. It was Harry, after all, and such dramatics were becoming more than a little commonplace. Something Severus needed to get used to .

But it was most definitely odd.

Severus glanced at his timepiece, tapping the item with his index finger, impatiently.

It was 7.14am; and Harry was fourteen minutes late.

He had never been late for a lesson, before.

Time ticked on, during which Severus grew more impatient, until another ten minutes had passed, and he finally tucked away the timepiece, beginning to make his way towards to door – headed for the Gryffindor Tower – fully intending to drag the boy out of bed, if necessary, for these lessons were not to be taken lightly, not ever.

Severus was halted in his steps when Harry appeared in the threshold. To say he didn't want to be there was an understatement; the scowl said it all.

"Mr Potter," Severus crossed his arms, coming to a stop in front of him; "You are late."

Harry shrugged, keeping his eyes averted.

Severus frowned.

"Explain yourself."

"Slept in."

"You slept in?" Severus repeated, slowly, enunciating each word.

Harry kept his eyes on a distant spot in the classroom, not even acknowledging that Severus had spoken.

Severus was not appreciative of this unwelcome attitude, that went without saying; "Well, in that case, the lesson shall be extended," he turned on his heel, making his way back to his usual spot; "And five points, I should think, for that attitude."

Severus heard a little 'tut' behind him, a huff, and he felt his impatience increase but he didn't rise to it. Whatever the boy's problem was, he would be learning of it imminently, and Severus was beginning to suspect that whatever plagued him was more than just an offence at being dismissed from his office so abruptly, previously.

"Prepare yourself," Severus said, crossing his arms, standing in position, and lifted his eyes in exasperation, when he noticed Harry was still exactly where he left him, in quite a sulk, indeed.

Harry dropped his backpack, carelessly, on the floor and stepped forward, practically dragging his heels and Severus eyed him.

"Why do I fear we will not be getting very far in our tutorial today, Mr Potter?"

"Because I'm stupid."

Severus frowned, both at the response and at the venom by which it was spoken; "Potter –"

"I'm ready," Harry said, pausing for just a second, before he added, less than sincerely; "Sir."

"Eye contact is necessary for the incantation to work," Severus said, impatiently, not missing the slight.

Harry looked right at him then.

And that look, right there, was so filled with loathing – entirely unexpected, though it was not an unfamiliar expression to him – that Severus couldn't help the furrow of his brow. He tightened his hold on his wand, lifting an eyebrow; "Ready?"

Harry gave him a barely perceptible nod.

Severus raised his wand, and he was immensely curious and entirely certain that there was no way the boy was going to be able to do anything to stop his attack on his mind – not with his current, obviously highly-emotional state – as he spoke the incantation.

"Legillimens."

It was like nothing Severus had ever experienced through legilliemency before.

A white-hot flash of pain and of grief, that enveloped him and consumed him, and made it almost impossible for him to see past it, at anything else within the boy's mind.

Almost.

He caught the slightest of glimpses.

The slightest of glimpses was enough.

Remus Lupin was before him.

"It's Snape, isn't it? … How could you not tell me that he's Grace's father?"

Severus was out in the blink of an eye – forced from the boy's mind, in a way he'd never been done so before – no matter how hard he tried to push in further and see more of that conversation – that damn conversation! – and when he came to his senses, both he and Harry were on their backs on the ground.

Harry was breathing heavily, scrambling to his feet and shaking his head, as if he were very angry with himself – as well as the rest of the world – for letting Severus see it.

Severus got to his feet and they met one another's eyes.

If the slight memory, the emotions that came with it, did not tell Severus the truth of it – the reason for the coldness in the boy, that he had been sensing all weekend – that look Harry had in his eyes would do it, now.

It was a look of hate and fury and betrayal.

And then Harry stumbled, backwards, away from him and he began to make his way towards the door – bag forgotten – but Severus caught him by the arm.

"Harry."

Harry rounded on his, eyes flashing with utter fury and disbelief.

"Don't call me that!"

And then he yanked his arm back from him, shoving with his other as he did so, so that Severus' back collided with the desk, before the boy hurried from the room.

"Wine on a freezing November morning," Julia said, taking a sip and leaning back fully against the backrest of the garden swing; "Isn't this the life?"

"Oh, it takes the chill off, I must admit," Lily smiled, lifting her own glass from the patio.

"Look, Mummy!" Grace called, from where she was cycling her bike on the grass, bundled up tight in her winter coat and splaying her legs on each side.

"Be careful, you!" Lily called over, and Grace rolled her eyes, planting her feet back on the peddles.

Assured of Grace's safety, Lily raised her glass at Julia with a smile; "How are you finding being back at St Mungo's?"

Julia waved a hand; "I try not to think of it as a step back, so much. But, when you end up back in exactly the same place as you did all your traineeships, the sentiment can't really be avoided."

"They'll be happy to have you back."

"Hm. Give me new faces and juicy histories, any day of the week."

Lily didn't want to pry. Oh no. Obviously, she had no right to, considering that mammoth secret that she was holding back regarding her own love life these past few years.

Nonetheless, Lily was insanely curious. It wasn't like Julia to hold back on juicy details, after all, and she most definitely had been holding back this time, if all the things Lily had managed to piece together in her mind were anything to go by, since Regulus had come to her door asking for the address to the cottage some weeks before.

"If new faces are what you're after, try the Foundation. They're always looking for new talent there," Lily suggested, innocently, eyeing her carefully as she did.

Julia didn't bite; "Nah. I'm not a researcher, Lil'. Not my thing."

"Puzzles to solve, new people to meet; sounds right up your street."

"As it so happens, now that the Foundation is back in the business of throwing Fundraisers, I don't need to work there to come across the 'Aurelius talent', as you so put it," Julia said, eyes sparkling, as she took a sip of wine and Lily thought she was teasing a bit, though whether about Regulus or Severus she wasn't sure.

"Speaking of which," Lily played innocent; "How did you find the time off between jobs?"

Julia raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips; "How is that a speaking of which?"

"Perhaps I misspoke," Lily couldn't keep from smiling, now.

Julia threw her head back, laughing, now, and then took another sip – rather a gulp – of wine, before she placed the half-empty glass on the ground; "You can quit the coy probing, Lil'. You're far too obvious."

Julia sat back up, smiling and leaning back, before she rested her arm against the back of the swing as she looked at her; "I know you know where I was."

"I can't imagine what you mean."

"I recognised your handwriting."

Lily smiled then, lifting her eyes in a roll; "Maybe I should have slanted it a little."

"God help anyone who ever relies on you to keep a secret, Honey," Julia said, laughingly.

Lily fought to keep smiling and averted her eyes, because it was easier to keep lying when she wasn't looking directly at the person, and gave a shrug; "I managed to keep this one long enough, didn't I?"

"From me, maybe."

"So, spill," Lily said, finally dropping the act and lifting her glass for another sip.

"Hm," Julia shook her head; "Nope."

"Oh my, it must be serious."

"Pfft. Nah."

"Oh, come on," Lily laughed, delighted at the way Julia was reddening under the interrogation; "Since when do you blush and clam up about a man?"

"I'm not blushing," Julia laughed in turn, shaking her head; "And I don't kiss and tell."

"Oh, dragonshit!"

"Oh, it's Black," Julia said, eyes widening as she shook her head, before she reached up and ran a hand through her hair; "You said it yourself; I'm not the only one."

"Ah, ah," Lily held up a hand, stopping her there; "He has never asked me to give out that information before. Not to anyone."

"Oh, don't tell me that," Julia squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head; "It's your duty, as my best friend, to stop me from making a complete fool of myself. And, as such, you are failing miserably here."

Lily laughed, while Julia joined in, but the sound of the gate opening drew both their attention to the bottom of the garden.

"Uncle Remus!"

Grace was upon the newcomer in a shot, the bike dropped and falling at her feet, and Remus scooped her up, hugging her tight.

Lily watched them, realising how much he must have missed her, very, very curious as to what would have brought Remus here, after his declaration just a few weeks before that he wouldn't come back – would stay away – in a dramatic end to their argument at the first Order Meeting.

Lily felt immediately uneasy, straightening where she sat.

Remus approached with Grace on his hip, giving them both a nod, and it was when Lily met his eyes that she knew, for sure, that something wasn't right.

No.

Something was very, very wrong.

"Remus," Lily got to her feet; "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," he said, quietly, not quite meeting her eyes and pressing a kiss to Grace's cheek, before he placed her down on the ground; "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Yes, of course," Lily nodded, casting a quick glance in Julia's direction – silently asking her to watch Grace – and Julia just nodded, getting to her feet and reaching out a hand to Grace.

"Come on with me, Grace," Julia said, and Grace took her hand, with an uncertain glance back in Remus' direction – as if she didn't want to be parted from him – before she lit up, more enthusiastically, with Julia's ensuing suggestion; "Will we open up the sandpit?"

"Yes!"

They hurried back down the garden.

Remus didn't wait for Lily, just went ahead into the kitchen, and she followed, dread, rising fast and steady within her, as she stepped across the threshold close behind him.

Remus was so readable – he always had been – and his unease, his guilt, was so palpable in that moment, that Lily had a pretty good idea of what it was he was about to say before she had even closed the door behind them.

"What is it, Remus?" she asked, hoping – praying – that her suspicions were wrong.

"It's Harry," he said, right away, turning to face her.

Lily knew, immediately, what it was. What Remus had come to tell her. She drew in a breath, trying to keep calm; "What about Harry?"

"He knows."

Lily shook her head.

A pathetic, helpless attempt at denial; as if that would erase the truth from existence.

The impossible truth.

Even though Lily knew, she knew, from the moment her eyes had met Remus' in the garden that that's what he had come here to say, she couldn't stomach it. The reality of it, of Harry knowing, was something that could barely be comprehended.

"How could he know?" her voice was quiet, deceiving so, while her mind was absolutely racing at what all of this meant. She could almost see it, there in her mind, everything she and Severus had done and been through, to keep them safe, to protect their children, all of it coming undone before her eyes.

She drew in a steadying breath; tried to keep herself grounded, because panicking would help nothing. And, perhaps, it was something that could be fixed or explained away; it needn't be the utter disaster Lily was picturing.

"I don't know. He figured it out," Remus said, shaking his head; "He came to me. I had to tell him."

"You what?"

Any attempt at remaining calm was out the window with Remus' statement.

That he, Remus, had told Harry; after all they had said to one another, after all that he had seen her do and fight for, all these years, he would just go ahead and wipe it all out, behind her back.

"Look, don't, okay. I didn't want to –"

"Oh, bullshit!"

"Lily –"

Lily shook her head, so bloody furious and in utter disbelief at the betrayal. By Remus, of all people; "This is exactly what you wanted. What you've been harping on at me about for months –"

"Not like this!"

"Isn't that what you said to me? That Harry had to know?"

"I wouldn't have just told him, Lily; he came to me already knowing. He got it from somewhere else."

"You should have told him to come to me."

"I did."

"You should have made him come to me!" Lily didn't think she'd ever been so damn livid in her whole life; "What right did you have to tell him any of this, Remus?"

"Look, I tried, okay," Remus shook his head, looking incredibly apologetic – as if that helped anything – and continued with his explanation, his excuses; "I told him to come to you. He doesn't want to see you."

"Oh, of course he doesn't want to see me, not now, not now that Uncle Remus has swept in and told him the bare bones of the whole thing."

"Oh, don't, Lily. I never would have told him if he hadn't come to me like that; I wouldn't do that."

Lily turned away, hands coming up to her mouth, as the weight of it all, the reality of what this all meant finally crushing down upon her; because there was no way it could be avoided now, damage-control rendered entirely obsolete, if Remus had just gone ahead and confirmed it all to Harry.

Everything, everything that they had done, that they had been fighting for, all snuffed out and now Grace would be in danger and Severus would lose his place by Voldemort's side and Harry.

She would lose him now, and it would all be for nothing.

They would be losing, anyway.

"God…I can't believe this," Lily breathed, hands pressed tight to her face, before she rounded on Remus, heatedly; "I can't believe you. This is my family - these are my children, Remus!"

"No, don't…don't do that," Remus shook his head, sounding broken, as broken as she felt, as Harry must feel, but Lily wouldn't let that weaken her.

"Do what?" she snapped.

"You know I can't compete with that," Remus said; "But I have been here, Lily, and I have loved your children and, dammit, I won't have you saying that I don't care, that I would hurt either of them like this. I would never do that!"

"You told him," Lily grounded out; "You told him, knowing everything that it would mean, the risk to him, to Grace. This wasn't your decision to make."

Remus glanced away.

"After everything that we have given up, everything that we have sacrificed for this –" Lily shook her head; "How can I trust you –"

Remus' eyes snapped back to hers, then, flashing in unbridled outrage; the words the entirely wrong thing to say.

"Don't! Don't you dare," Remus' face was a picture of disbelief, as he looked back at her; "How can you even say that, Lily? I love those kids and I have lied to them. I have lied to them for years. And that's all been for you. And now you're telling me that you can't trust me?"

Lily could only stare back at him. Because she couldn't back down – no – this was too much, it was too far, the consequences of this were so great, so terrible, that there was no way she could swallow it. No matter the betrayal that was now evident in Remus'eyes, as he looked back at her.

He seemed to wait, as if allowing her the chance to respond, and when she didn't – when she couldn't – Remus looked down.

He drew in a breath, that he released in a tremble, before he looked back up at her, his expression hardening; "You know, I've been blaming Snape, for all of this," he glanced away, as he went on; "I've been grinding him down, pissing him off, trying to make him see what he's doing to you, what he's doing to those kids. But you know what?" He shrugged; "It's not Snape. He told you; Sirius told you; I told you what was going to happen."

Lily frowned, as Remus went on, laying it all at her feet.

"But you didn't listen. You didn't care. You knew what you were doing. You knew how much this was going to hurt us; hurt Harry," he released a breath, shaking his head with a scoff; "But you did it anyway."

Remus and Lily looked at one another, as the weight of the accusation hung over them.

And there was a look in his eyes, one that wasn't there the last time they had spoken, one that told her, that this time, he was truly lost to her. He was gone.

"You did this, Lily."

Remus walked towards and by her, yanking open the door.

"All of this, it's on you."

The door slammed shut behind him.

Remus was done.

He was so done, there were no words to explain just how done he was, with all of this. With Lily Potter and her bullshit. With Severus Snape. With their dirty little secrets.

Remus was out.

Let them deal with this mess; he honestly had nothing left to give to this fight that wasn't even his anymore.

Remus stepped over the threshold, into his chambers, fully intending on locking himself away until after lunch, when his first class was to resume.

He paused, a step over it, eyes quickly taking notice of Severus standing in the corner of the room.

How the hell Snape had managed to get passed the wards, Remus didn't know – or care – he was not in the mood for this.

Remus rolled his eyes, carrying on, pushing the door shut behind him and walking by Snape without a word.

Though his fingers did carefully trace the end of his wand; he knew better than to be totally off his guard when Severus was about. And, considering the current circumstances, he had a fair idea of why the man was here.

"I am going to kill you, Lupin."

Snape's voice was soft, dangerously so, and Remus could well believe the statement when he looked at him.

Though he appeared calm, his eyes glinted dangerously, and Remus knew that he hadn't heard what had happened from Lily – no, it was too soon for that – something had obviously erupted with Harry.

Remus filled the teapot on the counter, not looking at him; "He came to me. He figured it out."

"And how on Earth did he manage to do that?" came Snape's soft, entirely sceptical response, as he stepped towards him, crossing his arms.

Remus set the boiling charm, turning around to face him, fully, and lifted his hands in a gesture, welcoming a response; "You tell me, Severus. He turned up at my door a complete wreck on Friday morning – after one of your private lessons with him – so maybe you ought to take a closer look at your own interactions with him that day, to figure out what happened."

"And you did not think to redirect him, Lupin? To his mother, perhaps?"

"You'll have to excuse my ineptitude there, Severus, I was a bit preoccupied trying to deal with the mess you made."

"And this was to be yours and Harry's cosy little secret, was it?"

"No. I told Lily just now."

Snape's eyes narrowed, even if every other part of him remained still, calmly furious; "You stay away from her, Lupin."

"Gladly."

For the briefest of seconds, Snape's expression twitched, revealing surprise, but it was there and then it was gone.

Severus drew in a breath, eyeing Remus for a second, before he spoke once more; "What did you tell him?"

"Nothing he hadn't already worked out for himself."

"And what, exactly, was that?"

"Everything."

Snape released a breath, shaking his head, his next words a snarl; "You son of a bitch."

"I do my best."

"You went to Lily just now?"

"Yes," Remus shrugged; "Did you really expect I would come to you?"

"This happened on Friday. Three days ago."

Remus only stared back at him, politely.

"You are even more witless than I thought," Severus went on; "This is something that needed to be contained and dealt with immediately."

"I have to say, Severus; you don't seem at all surprised by this turn of events." Remus glanced at the teapot, which had finished boiling and was now steaming from the spout; "Tea?"

Severus' jaw clenched; "No."

"It's over, Severus," Remus finally said, when the silence stretched; "It's done."

He turned away, pulling over a cup and saucer with a scrape on the countertop, chucking in a tea bag and lifting the jar of sugar, as he carried on speaking, his tone almost apathetic. Because that was what he felt, now, as the dust finally began to settle.

"And so am I. You can count on my absence, from here on out," Remus gave a wry smile; "After all of this, neither Lily nor Harry would have it any other way."

There was a silence, a stillness in the wake of his statement.

Remus lifted his eyes from the cup to Severus.

Severus regarded him carefully, his own expression as unreadable as ever.

Remus wouldn't rise. Neither would Severus.

An impasse, it seemed, in the aftermath of all of this.

Both of them entirely aware there was nothing to be said, here, not anymore, that would make a blind bit of difference as to what happened now.

This was inevitable.

It always had been. Both of them had known it from the start.

It was the very event both men had been fighting – their own worst nightmares – and they had failed and were going down, both of them, miserably, in the flames. And they had only themselves to blame for where they ended up, now.

It was as if the tension between them had finally broken, in the wake of all of it all; oh, the cruel, bloody irony of that.

Severus drew in a breath and raised an eyebrow; to which Remus simply stared back. Before Severus uncrossed his arms and strode from the room.

It was Snape's mess to deal with, now.