Disclaimer: I Do Not Own Either Harry Potter or the Marvel Cinematic Universe
Excuse Me, I Don't Suppose You Know How To Time Travel?
Chapter Six
And I Always Feel You In My Blood
For the first time that Harry could remember, he was dreading the return to Hogwarts, the return to a place which could very well mean the temporary end to the search for answers about who his parents were. Perhaps it was because of this, that it was all too soon that Harry found himself reapplying the charms which hid his face and greeting the Weasley family for the trip to Kings Cross Station.
"Harry dear, you are far too skinny," greeted the Weasley matron, engulfing him in her embrace, "Ron here is growing like a weed. Have you been eating enough? Have your relatives been treating you well?"
"They've been treating me fine, Mrs Weasley," he reassured her, as she sent her husband a doubtful glance, but was delayed from persuing the matter by the appearance of her twin sons, Fred and George.
"Harry dear, how simply marvellous it is to see you!" exclaimed George, enthusiastically shaking his hand, his twin appearing at his shoulder a second later.
"It's simply spiffing to see you again, my boy," Fred said, laying an arm across his shoulders. "And how has your time spent free of my youngest brother's odour been?"
Before Harry had a chance to stop laughing at the two's ruse and to reply or greet them in term, Percy appeared in the doorway, a superior expression on his face as he observed the scene.
"Fred, we are in a hurry," their elder brother said, "Do try your best to cease your idiotic behaviour until we're on the Hogwart's Express, at least."
Both twins looked posed to reply, but as their mother glanced at them the fell silent, instead, both pulling away from Harry and towards where their trunks lay. Only a second passed, however, before Harry was joined by another red-headed individual.
"Hello, Harry," greeted Mr Weasley, managing to look both pleased to see him and stressed by his surroundings, "I do need to have a chat with you, I'm afraid, but the Ministry has sent cars to take us to the station, so we will have to wait to we get there."
"Yeah, why did they do that, Dad?" George asked as he attempted to stuff what looked suspiciously like an escaped frog back into his case.
"Perks of working for them, of course," Mr Weasley replied. Harry couldn't help but notice that Mr Weasley's ears had turned red, similar to how Ron's did when he was lying. "After that fiasco with the car last year, they were kind enough to realise that we might struggle to get us all to Kings Cross in time. Now, best not keep them waiting."
The procession began walking through the Leakey Cauldron, towards the exit, and pass the posters of the escaped convict, and it did not escape Harry's notice how Mr Weasley marched in front of him, while Mrs Weasley followed not a step behind.
They arrived at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters with not ten minutes to spare, a situation which was remarkably better than last year, but still far later than would have been a comfort, and many students appeared to have settled on the train.
"Hi, Harry!" Neville piped, a stern looking witch by his shoulder, who could no other than his infamous grandmother.
"Hi Neville," he replied his attention not on Neville but instead Mr Weasley, who had led him away from the rest of his family, and into a quieter part of the station. Once there, Mr Weasley turned to him and knelt down so he was at Harry's eye level.
"Harry," he began, "Before I tell you what I'm about to tell you, I need you to promise me not to do anything stupid."
Harry blinked, his heart beginning to beat faster, and hope began to fill it. Could it be possible, that Mr Weasley somehow knew the about his parentage? That he could either confirm or deny the thoughts that had filled his mind for weeks?
Mr Weasley continued, perhaps taking his silence as acceptance, the next words dimming Harry's excitement.
"Sirius Black, how much do you know about him?"
Confusion flooded his mind, as he tried to recall the information that he had heard throughout the past few weeks, mostly from times in which he had overheard other people's conversations. Perhaps, at another time he might have had more interest in the escaped convict, but his attention span throughout the past few weeks had more often been caught in the case of Captain America's missing son.
"He was one of Voldemort's", Mr Weasley shuddered, and Harry corrected his words, "I mean, You-Know-Who's supporters, right? His right-hand man?" Mr Weasley continued to stand blankly at him, so he stumbled on, unsure of what to say, "He-, um, escaped Azkaban? He was the first one ever to do it?"
Mr Weasley nodded, seeming to come to a conclusion before continuing, "Exactly, Harry, he was You-Know-Who's right-hand man, and he would probably do anything to get his hands on you, to get revenge."
"Yeah, that's pretty obvious," he said, noticing the way that Mr Weasley's face once again became blank. "I mean, he supported Voldemort, so I kind of figured he'd want me dead."
Something akin to both amusement and pain played on Mr Weasley's face at his reply, before the man continued.
"Harry, I need you to promise me, that no matter what you hear, you won't go looking for Black."
Whatever understanding he had found throughout the conversation disappeared at Mr Weasley's request, and briefly, he wondered how stupid Mr Weasley believed him to be.
"Mr Weasley, why on Earth would I go looking for someone who wants to kill me?"
Mr Weasley drew a breath, an expression of doubt on his face as he began to speak, but only to be interrupted by the sound of the train's whistle, and instead, he looked desperately at Harry.
"Harry, please, just promise me. Don't do anything stupid, don't go looking for Black."
"Mr Weasley-" the train whistled again, and Mr Weasley gave him a stern look, and instead of continuing to question Ron's father, he replied softly, "I promise."
Mr Weasley nodded, relief on his face. "Now you better get on the train. We wouldn't want a repeat of last year."
Harry nodded, yelling his goodbyes over his shoulder as he ran towards where Ron and Hermione waited with his chest and Dudley's backpack, which was now full of books.
"What did Dad want to talk to you about?" Ron asked as they stepped aboard the Hogwarts Express.
"I'll explain once were in private."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione set off down the train, dragging their trunks behind them in their search for a compartment. Soon, they felt the train beneath them begin to move, but it was only at the end of the train that they found compartment that was mostly empty.
The room had only one occupant, a man with greying hair who was asleep in the corner closest to the window, with a trunk, labelled 'Professor R. J. Lupin'.
"Come on, it's the only one left," said Hermione, as she led her way into the compartment.
"Wonder what he's teaching?" Ron questioned, as they settled into their seats, Harry pushing the backpack which held his research under his chair.
"That's obvious," Hermione whispered, her voice pointedly low. "There's only the one vacancy, after Lockhart, I mean. Surely he must be teaching Defence."
"Well, I hope he's got it in him," said Ron, doubtfully, ignoring Hermione's affronted glance "He looks like one good jinx would finish him off. Anyway, Harry, what was Dad talking to you about?"
Harry explained, quickly, about Mr Weasley's warnings about Sirius Black. When he was finished though, Ron looked thunderstruck, while Hermione was covering her mouth in shock.
"I didn't really think much of it," Harry said, trying to reassure his two friends. "I mean, it's not exactly the most exciting thing to happen to me recently. And surely there's always someone out there who would like to finish me off, especially considering..."
Harry trailed off, glancing at the sleeping professor, but while Hermione appeared to at least be partly reassured by his logic, Ron still looked concerned.
"Mate, I don't think you understand. This is Sirius Black we're talking about. Fred and George used to tell me stories about him when I was younger, they always used to give me nightmares."
"I don't think Black would be so stupid to try and finish me off while I'm at Hogwarts, Ron. I mean, I'd been in London for a month, and I can't exactly imagine him snooping around any corners."
Neither Ron or Hermione commented on the lack of logic in his claim, perhaps instead pausing to think about the suspicious looking convict trying to blend in with muggles as they watched the passing landscape, which was quickly turning from suburban blocks to the countryside.
"Harry, just promise you won't go looking for trouble," Hermione pleaded, eventually. "You're right, of course, there's probably always going to someone who wants to kill you, but Ron's right too. Black is worse than the average You-Know-Who follower. They obviously want to be free, otherwise, they would still be spouting his propaganda today. Black though, he's been in Azkaban, he didn't even try to defend himself when he was arrested. He's got nothing to lose."
"Despite what you and Mr Weasley might think, I don't go looking for trouble," Harry said, infuriated, "It usually just finds me."
Both Ron and Hermione rolled their eyes at his comment, but the compartment soon became filled with only the sound of the movement of the train, neither of his friends certain of how to respond. Fortunately, the silence was soon broken by the rattling of the food trolley going up the aisle, a sound that was soon followed by knocking on the compartment door.
"Anything off the trolleys, dears?"
Both Ron and Harry jumped upwards at the noise and began to choose their food with Hermione following only a second behind.
"Should we wake him up?" asked Hermione, eyeing the sleeping professor as the three paid for their food. "He does look like he could do with some food."
"Who are you, my mum?" Ron questioned, his mouth full of a pumpkin pasty. "He also looks like he could do with a sleep."
"I'll be up the front, dears," the trolley lady, "Just tell him he's welcome to come get some food once he wakes if he wishes."
The three nodded, and soon the trolley was continuing down the corridor.
"I swear," Ron said, "That woman never ages. Honestly, she's gotta be at least a hundred."
Hermione laughed, "That's not exactly uncommon, though, is it? I mean, Dumbledore's one hundred and twelve, I think. There's nothing particularly strange about her."
The hours soon passed, with games of Exploding Snap, which Hermione had charmed to be silent, and the tales of both Hermione's and Ron's tales abroad, in France and Egypt. Harry's holidays, and the search which he had undertaken were kept carefully silent, not willing to risk the chance of Professor Lupin's waking.
Soon, as the sun finished setting the train began to slow.
"Brilliant," said Ron, getting to his feet. "I was just beginning to get hungry."
"We shouldn't be there for nearly another hour," Hermione said, checking her watch.
"Then why are we stopping?" Ron replied, "Maybe they've made the train quicker, Hermione, they've been making advancements with muggle transport recently, I mean, just look at my dad's car."
Harry though, remained quiet, goose bumps beginning to form on his arms as a chill began to spread, and distantly, he thought he could hear a sound of deep wheezing. Harry barely had a chance to tell his two friends to be quiet so he could attempt to see if he was imaging the sound, before the lamps went out, plunging the train into darkness.
"Maybe we've broken down," Hermione said, her voice forcefully hopeful as the three begin to shiver.
"There's something moving out there," Ron said, from his point next to the window. "I think there are people coming aboard."
The compartment door swung open suddenly, and someone stumbled in, landing on Harry's legs.
"Sorry-, d'you guys know what's going on-?" Neville asked as he struggled onto the seat next to Harry.
"We have no idea," Harry replied, his teeth chattering, "Ron reckons there are people coming aboard."
"I'm going to go ask someone," Hermione stood, heading towards the door, but only stumbling into another figure. "Ginny? What are you doing here?"
"I was looking for Ron-"
"Well you've found me-" Ron began, only to be interrupted by a hoarse voice from the corner of the cabin.
"Be quiet," Lupin said, pulling his wand from his pocket as he stood, a gentle light filling the cabin as he lifted it. "Both of you, sit down."
The two girls fell into the seat behind them, Lupin taking a step towards the door, but before he reached the entrance a hooded figure slid into the entrance, illuminated by the light of Lupin's wand. The creature was large, almost filling the doorway, and it's face was covered it's hood.
The thing, whatever it was, stared directly at Harry, before beginning to draw a long, rattling breath, as though trying to draw more than simply air from it's surroundings.
The air became rapidly colder, as if the thing was taking what little warmth that was previously in the air away with it's breath, and Harry felt his eyes began to slide towards the back of his head as darkness took over.
Distantly, he could hear the sound of screaming, and he wanted to help whoever it was, trying to run towards the noise, but was unable to move. As quickly as the noise had come though, it was replaced by another sensation, this time of a cold, metal object, wrapping around him, lifting him from where he lay. Desperately, Harry tried to escape the hold, but he seemed unable to move, to escape it, and he soon instead began to scream, to cry, in both terror and discomfort.
The cold continued to overcome him, seeming to fill both his physical and mental being, only for him to hear the distant sound of yelling, and a light to began to shine, warming him; the sound of a woman's singing, the gentle rocking of being in someone's arms, and kind, loving, brown eyes staring down at him, filled his mind.
"Harry! Harry! Are you alright!"
Someone was slapping him, and with each noise and contact seemed to be dragging him away from the comfort which he barely remembered.
"Harry! Wake up!"
"W-what?"`
Harry opened his eyes, finding himself back aboard the Hogwarts Express, which was once again moving and lights filled the cabin. His friends, along with Professor Lupin, were all staring at him worriedly. He felt sick, and he continued to tremble as he attempted to steady himself, Hermione's hand on his shoulder, as he struggled to breath properly. His books, which had previously been in his bag under the seat, had been knocked out and were scattered across the ground.
"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, cautious as she spoke.
"Yeah," he replied, his voice shaking, "I'm fine. Where's that- that thing, gone? Who was-, who was screaming?"
Who was the woman who he remembered rocking him in her arms, he wondered desperately, his eyes catching on one of his books which had been strewn across the room, and a quiet sort of hope began to fill him.
"Nobody was screaming," Ron said, nervously, a silence following his words, which was soon broken by the sudden sound of a snap, which caused them all to jump, and stare towards where the sound had come from. Professor Lupin had broken a large block of chocolate and was offering it to them in his outstretched hand.
"Take it, it'll help," he said and smiled at them as they each took their piece. "That was a dementor. They guard the prison, Azkaban. They must have been searching the train for Black."
They all stared at him, unsure of how to respond as the man crumbled the empty chocolate wrapper in his hand.
"Eat," he repeated, as he stood, "I need to go talk to the driver, excuse me-"
He stumbled, tripping over one of Harry's books, but picked himself up before he fell. Instead, he reached down to pick up the book, and began to offer it to Harry, but instead froze, staring at the title.
"Professor," Hermione began, "Are you alright?"
"Yes, yes," Lupin began, speaking quickly as he once again offered the book to Harry, "Now, I really must be going to speak to the driver, so excuse me-"
The man disappeared down the train, leaving the five students staring confused after the man.
"What the hell was that about?" Ron asked, continuing to stare at the spot the man had disappeared.
Instead of answering, Harry stared at his book in his lap, on the cover of which a photo of Harrison Rogers was displayed before returning to stare after the man.
It appeared, Harry thought, his mind quickly becoming joyful and his grip beginning to tighten on his copy of 'Harrison Rogers: The Search For America's Lost Son', that perhaps returning to Hogwarts wouldn't put as much a pause on his search as he had once thought.
"Yes, it's possible that Professor Lupin knows something," Hermione said, as Ron, Harry, and she descended down the empty stairs leading towards Hagrid's cabin and their Care Of Magical Creatures class. Shockingly, Hermione had not taken well to the possibility that their newest professor was less than perfect. It was only through Ron's laughing about the last few Defence professors they had had that she had been able to even consider the possibility. "And I'll agree that his reaction is suspicious, but you just can't accuse him of time traveling back in time to kidnap you! You need proof first!"
"Hermione," Harry began, only to stumble down a few steps of stairs. His mind had been kept awake the previous night with thoughts about Lupin's reaction and with the images which the dementor had conjured in his mind, and was now struggling to stay awake. Along with the damp steps beneath him, it was not a good situation. "Firstly, I'm not saying he time traveled. Secondly, needing proof is what got us into this situation! We don't have any proof that I'm Harrison Rogers, and Lupin might have what we need!"
"You just can't accuse a Professor of kidnapping you, Harry! And how exactly do you plan to get the information? Are you just going to march up to him and ask, what do you know about Harrison Rogers?"
"I think, Hermione," Ron laughed, "That's what Harry was counting on you on, actually."
Hermione glanced at him, which caused him to smile sheepishly in return.
"You can't say that you haven't thought of anything," Ron continued. "It must have kept you up all night wondering."
"Yes, it did! And I have nothing!" Hermione sighed, "The only ideas I could come up with are absolutely insane!"
Both Ron and Harry looked at her eagerly, causing her to sigh, and roll her eyes.
"I thought perhaps, a truth serum," Ron began to laugh at the statement, "But it's illegal! Then I thought we could perhaps obliviate him after, but after last year, I really would prefer not to. Memory magic really is tricky, and I would be worried he would end up like Lockhart."
"What about your other idea?"
"Breaking into his office."
Silence fell, the three friends continuing along the path, desperately attempting to think of a plan.
"What about polyjuice?" Ron offered, "We could transform into someone, Dumbledore maybe, and demand answers?"
Doubt clouded Harry's mind at the offer, and from the way that Hermione glanced at him, he knew that the thought had occurred to her too.
"Ron, Dumbledore might already know. The glamours, they had to have been made by a really powerful wizard, probably one who's still alive today. If it was one of my par-, James and Lily, they would have fallen years ago. It was Dumbledore who gave me to the Dursley's, so he must have had some control over my life, he might have some idea about who my parents really were."
Ron nodded, his freckled face clearing of confusion.
"What if we just asked him?" Hermione eventually said, causing both Harry and Ron to stare at her in disbelief. "I mean, not directly, but we could start talking about Captain America, and Harrison Rogers, to him. If the incident on the train was anything to go off, the Professor isn't exactly subtle."
The idea, Harry admitted, wasn't exactly foolproof, but it was certainly the best they had come up with. Before either Ron or Harry had an opportunity to voice their opinion though, a shadow covered them, and the three friends looked up into the beaming face of Hagrid.
"Harry, Ron, Hermione," he said, grinning at Harry, "I heard you talkin about Professor Lupin? It must be good, o'course, to meet a friend of yeh parents?"
Harry blinked, shock overcoming him as he struggled to reply, Hagrid's grin dimming/
"He asn't told yeh then?" Hagrid said, his face sad.
Harry continued to struggle to find words, and instead Hermione answered Hagrid's question.
"No, we met him on the the Hogwart's Express though. He acted really strange around Harry, and we weren't really sure why."
Hagrid nodded, "I probably should't have told yeh all that then, but reckon it's bit late now. He was friend's with 'oth your parents, Harry, when they went 'ere. After, too. I suppose he was struggling a bit with how much you look like yer dad, Harry. It catches me by surprise at times."
As he said that, Hagrid began to look at Harry closely, prompting Hermione to shout her greeting at two approaching Gryffindors.
"Lavender! Parvati!" she yelled, drawing Hagrid's attention away from Harry and to the two approaching girls. "I didn't have a chance to ask you about your holidays!"
Though both girls gave Hermione a suspicious glare, Hagrid disappeared back into his hut, muttering something to the three friends about having something to prepare for his class. As he walked away though, the three friends looked at each other, the message clear on each other's faces.
Several days passed until Harry found himself facing Lupin again. Though the man looked as battered and tired as he had on the train, he no longer appeared to be wishing to flee upon spotting Harry, and instead smiled at him as he entered the classroom.
"Settle, settle," the man said as more of the class began to enter the room, murmuring excitedly upon spotting the cupboard which now sat at the front of the room. As the class fell silent, Lupin smiled, before continuing, "What can anyone tell me about boggarts?"
Hermione's hand flew into the air, accompanied, Harry noticed, by several others, along with nervous faces being traded between students.
"Boggarts are shape shifters," Hermione. "They take the shape of whatever scares us most."
"Couldn't have said it better myself," the teacher said, smiling at Hermione. "Boggarts like cold, dark places. This one, Mr Filch found yesterday afternoon, and I asked him to leave it so we could get some practice. Does anyone know what the natural form of a boggart is?"
"Nobody knows," Hermione answered after Lupin nodded at her. "Nobody's ever been able to see one without it transforming."
"Exactly," the man nodded, "so when I let him out, he will become what each of us fears most. Neville, do you see why we have such a large advantage over the boggart?"
Neville, who had been trembling, took several seconds to think before he cautiously answered.
"There's so many of us, and only one of it?"
"Precisely," the professor replied, Hermione's hand sinking in disappointment. "It's always best to have company when dealing with a boggart. The charm, however, to dispel a boggart is quite simple, but it requires force of mind. Repeat after me, please, riddikulus!"
The class repeated the spell after him, and he smiled again before continuing.
"Well now, for the difficult part. Neville, this is where I'll need your help. What is it, that you fear most in the world?"
Neville muttered something, but no identifiable sound was heard.
"Would you mind repeating that, please, Neville?"
"Professor Snape."
The class laughed, but the professor looked thoughtful, eventually leaning forward to whisper something in Neville's ears which caused his lips to twitch with laughter. Lupin took a step backwards, smiling reassuringly at Neville again, before returning his attention to the rest of the class.
"Once Neville finishes of the boggart, it will turn your attention on the rest of you. I would like you all to take a moment, to think about what scares you most in the world, and now, as impossible as it might sound, I want you to think about how you might make it comical."
The room went silent, as the students began to wonder.
What scares me most in the world, Harry wondered.
His first thought was Voldemort, one who was as powerful and bloodthirsty as the one from thirteen years ago. But as soon as he attempted to try and find a way to make the dark wizard amusing, other thoughts filled his mind. What about Uncle Vernon, or Aunt Petunia? They had belittled him from the day he was placed with the, and it had left more than physical marks. Or perhaps the cupboard under the stairs, which had been a prison for the years before he had come to Hogwarts. But even as he tried to find a way to make his childhood torments amusing, another thought filled his mind; a deep rattling breath, and the air around him became cold at the thought alone.
How in Merlin's name was he meant to make a dementor comical? Could he make it trip over, or make it pink? Make it so each time it breathed it spluttered glitter instead?
"Everyone ready?" Professor Lupin asked, a question to which no one replied to. "Okay, Neville, on the count of three. One, two, three-"
The cupboard door swung open, and soon the room was full of dress-wearing- Snapes, voiceless banshees and unraveling mummies. Before long, it was Ron's turn, and as a familiar gigantic spider appeared in the room, Harry could feel Ron's trembling next to him.
"Ridikulus!"
The spider's legs disappeared, and it rolled toward's Harry's feet. He distantly heard Lupin's shout of 'here!', but as Harry lifted his wand there was a loud crack, and suddenly there was another figure in front of him.
A man stood in front of him, his face covered by both his long hair and a mask, which covered the lower half of his face. His blue eyes, surrounded by a dark paint, were staring directly at Harry, somehow managing to convey both a perfect stillness and turmoil. Across his back was strapped a large gun, and at his side, more knives. One of his arms, even more strangely, was made of metal.
Involuntarily, Harry felt himself take a step back.
"Harry," Ron muttered, from behind him, "Ridikulus."
Who was this man? Harry wondered, his mind racing, but each time he tried to look at his face, his eyes were instead drawn to the arm. Metal, he thought distantly, a metal arm, something which reminded him strangely of the nightmare which had been occurring his sleep in the nights since the dementor. A metal arm, tearing him away from the comfort of his bed and from the people who loved him.
"Ridikulus, Harry," Hermione muttered, the entire class transfixed at the man drew one of his many knives. "Ridiku-"
"RIDIKULUS!" Harry shouted, and the man's appearance shifted. Suddenly, the boggart was portraying a different man, once which Harry again felt like he should know, but who's face he couldn't place.
"Neville! Forward, finish it off for us!" Professor Lupin yelled, breaking the silence.
Neville rushed forward, his face gleeful as the boggart turned once again into Snape, and yelled 'ridikulus!' as the boggart exploded into smoke, before disappearing. Harry remained, staring at the spot where a man had stood only seconds before.
"Excellent! For homework, please read the chapter on boggarts for homework, and summarize it for me. That will be all."
The majority of the Gryffindors all started towards the door, leaving Harry and his two friends, one of who remained to stare at the empty space, while the other two stared concerned at him. After the class room had emptied, Ron voiced the words which had been on of their minds.
"What the bloody hell was that?"
"Dementors can make some of your worst memories resurface," Hermione spoke, giving Ron a partially a disgusted look as he sat beside her, eating his dinner. "You say you remember the metal arm picking you up?"
Harry nodded, and her eyebrows drew down in thought.
"If he was the one to kidnap you, it would make sense. He would have been a very imposing figure, and if he was the one to kidnap you, it very well could mean that your unconscious mind retained memories of him. Did you remember anything else?"
"I remember a woman, screaming." Harry replied, his voice kept carefully free of emotion.. "And a woman, holding me in her arms, and singing to me. But that felt warm, it was happy."
"Lily Potter?" Ron asked.
Harry shook his head, "No, she had brown eyes."
The thought seemed to pass over both his friends as it had over Harry: brown eyes, like Peggy Rogers. Hermione sighed, hopelessness covering her face, "We really need to find some proof that you're Harrison."
Their eyes all moved to the table at which Professor Lupin was sat, eating, and smiling at Madame Pomfrey. A second later, his eyes moved to them, causing them to all jump and turn back to their food.
"You seem more certain about it then you were, earlier, Hermione," Harry stated eventually, staring at his friend.
She stared back, her face black, before once again sighing. "Your boggart, Harry, didn't you notice? The metal arm, it had a Soviet Star on it. If he really was the one to kidnap you, Harry, I would almost be considering it proof enough."
"I am continuously amazed at you, Hermione," Ron said, "I was a bit busy looking at all the knives to really notice any stars."
A short laugh was startled out of Hermione at the comment.
"But the thing is, Hermione," Harry eventually said, voicing the thought which had been plaguing him for weeks, "Even if we do find proof, how the hell am I going to convince my-, Peggy Carter. Surely she must have people claiming their Harrison Rogers all the time."
"There are ways, using DNA - muggle technology, Ron - to see if people truly are related. Anyway," Hermione said, casting Harry an amused glance, "I somehow doubt she has many thirteen year olds claiming to be her son these days. That should probably help her listen to you."
Despite their efforts to find another way to discover if Lupin knew the truth of Harry's parentage, the three friend's enthusiasm quickly began to dim as the days passed. At nearly a three weeks from their departure from King's Cross Station, the friends had been left with the only plan they could create, one which had Hermione pacing.
"It's not going to work," she cried, as Ron and Harry watched her with both private amusement and agreement at her words, "It's idiotic, it relies too much on chance, and we could get into so much trouble!"
"We could give it more time, see if we can come up with a better plan?" Harry offered, amusement in his voice, hiding the fact that if there was one thing that they could do that he didn't want, it was to give it more time. Hermione let out a strangled yell at his suggestion, as she ceased pacing to stare at where he and Ron sat.
"No, it's the best we have," Hermione decided, though her face was pinched at her admittance. "If we want to discover the truth, we need to do it soon if we want to startle Lupin. He might grow accustomed to you Harry, at the moment he is still doing the best to avoid you. We should use it to our advantage, while we still can."
Harry and Ron both nodded at her in reply, the comment echoing what she had been debating with herself for the previous ten minutes. This time though, it seemed she had finished her pacing, and instead she sunk into the chair which sat behind her.
"It might not be the best plan, but it's the best, the only one, we have," she admitted, her voice soft.
Harry nodded, partly full of relief, but more so of dread, as he stood, taking Hermione's place.
"Tomorrow, during lunch, Hermione, you will approach Professor Lupin and ask for a chance to defeat a boggart, as you missed out on it during the lesson. Ron will follow you, and while Lupin is distracted, Ron, you will sneak a potion into Lupin's drink, which will make him more willing to answer questions."
The potion, a responsum verum, was capable of making the drinker more willing to answer questions, and unlike veritaserum, it wasn't illegal. However, unlike the other potion, it had far lesser effect on the drinker, and if Lupin truly didn't want to reveal the answers, it would not be possible to force him. However, combined with Lupin's lack of proper composure when around Harry, they had hope that their plan might work. The potion itself had been brewed the previous by Fred and George, who had demanded in repayment samples of the three friend's hair. Harry wasn't certain he wanted to know what the twin's were planning to do with it, and despite their reassurances that it was nothing dangerous, he doubted it would do either of the friend's any good. However, he would give up every hair on his own head if he thought that it might reunite him with his family.
"When he leaves I will follow him out, and ask for answers," Harry finished, simplifying the part of the plan which could very well be the most troubling.
"And, hopefully," Hermione said, finishing for him what he could not say, "By tomorrow night we will know if you are really Harrison Rogers."
The plan, at least, did not seem to be off to a bad start, Harry thought, as he watched his two friends talk to the professor, from his spot at the Gryffindor table.
Though Lupin had first appeared nervous to see the two third-years approaching, as Hermione had begun a conversation, he had begun to relax, and now appeared almost amused at Hermione's request. All to soon, it seemed to Harry, they were walking back towards him, a nervous expression plastered over Hermione's face, while Ron wore one of triumph. Behind them, Harry could see Lupin finishing what was left of his drink.
As his two friends sat down beside him, they all remained silent, instead, they took turns to glance at where Lupin sat. Harry was beginning to wonder if Fred and George's attempt at the potion hadn't worked entirely, and instead, it had left Lupin not wanting to move, when Hermione elbowed him in the stomached. He let out a yelp in response, but his reply was silence by the sight of Lupin walking towards the entrance of the Great Hall.
"Good luck, Harry," Hermione offered as he stood.
"If we don't see you in a few hours, mate," Ron said, "We'll send the twins after you."
Harry caught up to Lupin a few corridors from the man's classroom, and remained silent, following shortly behind him as they walked. As they reached the door, Harry let out a yell of, 'Professor!'.
"Harry," said the man as he turned to face him, tense. "What can I do for you?"
"Sorry-, sir, Hagrid-, Professor Hagrid, I mean-, he told me that you were friends with my parents." Harry began, stumbling over his words. "I was just wondering-, if you could tell me anything about them?"
Lupin stared at him for several, long sentences, before they man sighed. "I would love to tell you about your parents, Harry."
Soon, the two were seated at Lupin's desk, the man staring at him as Harry struggled again to find his words.
"Chocolate?" the man offered, pulling it from one of his draws.
"Uh-, no thanks," Harry replied. "Professor, what were my parents like?"
"They were brave," Lupin said, after considering him again, for several seconds. "They both fought for what the believed in, with every ounce of their being. They loved either other with everything they had, and you too, of course."
Harry was left temporarily stunned at the words, unsure of what he had been expecting, but the words rang with an honesty which had not been it. Though, Harry supposed, the potion would likely be taking effect.
"Professor," Harry eventually began, "Did they ever say anything about me being adopted?"
The words seemed to sap the man of what little energy he had, letting out a sigh as he sunk into the chair. Silence followed the sigh, one which was eventually broken as Lupin looked again into Harry's eyes.
"You should know, Harry, that despite their original intentions, they did truly care for you."
His heart began to beat faster at the words, hope beginning to swallow him.
"Do you know who my biological parents were, professor?"
The man looked at him again, with that deeply insightful stare, before replying.
"I think you already know the answer to that, Harry," Lupin said.
Harry froze at the words, both elation and doubt coursing through his body at.
"I am him, aren't I? Harrison Rogers, I mean."
The man nodded at him, and Harry too sank into his chair at the confirmation.
As impossible as it seemed, it was true, Harry thought, the words repeating in his mind as conflict began to war.
Seconds trickled by in which Harry said nothing, too enthralled with the knowledge to even think of it, before Lupin began to speak again.
"I'm afraid, Harry, I should probably say that your plan with Mr Weasley and Ms Granger didn't work," the man said, "You're friend was not nearly as subtle as he needed to be, but if you wanted to know the truth, you only needed to ask. James and Lily-, they never planned to keep it a secret from you who you were."
The professor's words had regained Harry's attention, the mention of the Potter's bringing a question to mind he wasn't sure he wanted to consider.
"How did I end up with James and Lily?"
The man lowered his eyes, shame on his face. "Lily's father, he came to England from America, looking for you. When he and his wife was murdered, by Death Eaters, Lily found all of his research on the matter, and with the use of magic, she was able to find you. James, he was also injured in the attack, and Lily wasn't in the best state of mind when she and I broke into the place where you were being kept."
"We wanted a weapon," Lupin paused, returning to eyes to Harry's face before continuing. "One that could give us an advantage over Voldemort."
Harry froze, the impossibility of the statement shocking him.
"You-, you stole-, you kidnapped me from my kidnappers because you wanted a weapon!" Harry asked, incredulous.
Lupin shook his head, shamefaced. "We were expecting an assassin, not a baby. We knew what we were doing was wrong, Harry, but we were desperate."
"Why didn't you give me back to my mum then!" Harry yelled, anger painting his words, the thought of a woman, his mother, left wondering his whereabouts for almost the last sixty years, inciting his rage.
What right had they? Harry thought, to not return him to his mum, to keep him from his family. The word family stunned Harry temporarily, and the thought of a life that could have been, one free of the Dursley's filled his mind. Would he have been happy, or would the pressure of growing up with the knowledge of having Captain America as a father have been too much to bear?
"Harry, Lily and I had a theory," Lupin eventually began, stunning Harry from his thoughts "It was common knowledge that you didn't inherit the strength of the super soldier serum, but we thought, we hoped, it might have affected your magical core instead."
"Well, obviously it didn't!" Harry yelled. His magic was mediocre at best, the only extraordinary thing he had ever done was-
"You survived the killing curse, didn't you?"
Harry fell silent, any response he might have had thrown by the words. As the silence continued, Lupin's face continued to fall, guilt painting it.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I know it might not mean much, and it does nothing to help you, but I truly am. And Lily and James, despite their-, Lily's intention, they did truly love you like their son."
The words passed through Harry's mind, unsure of his reaction should be to yell, or to cry. How could Lupin, who had left him to suffer at the hand's of the Dursley's for years, when he had known that he had living family, dare to apologise to him? What right had the Potters to have considered him their son?
"The people who kidnapped me-, I mean, before you," Lupin winced at his words, but Harry continued, his thoughts returning to the strangely familiar boggart which had haunted his dreams. "Who were they?"
Lupin's face shifted, "I can't remember, exactly. Your mum-, Lily, I mean, she knew who they were. They were named after a creature from Greek myths-, I think it was one Heracles killed. Captain America-, your father, I mean, Lily mentioned that he fought against them."
Harry froze, shock overcoming the facade of calmness which he had entered. It wasn't possible, was it?
"Hydra," an emptiness to his voice, as if it had been void of all emotion.
He barely heard Lupin's agreement, a tidal wave of hopelessness coursing through him. The organisation which his father had died attempting to stop had survived, the entire world unaware of it.
"Harry? Are you alright?" Lupin asked, stirring him from his thoughts, to reality, where the man was now standing, watching him concerned.
"I'm going to go find my mum."
Lupin remained quiet, no argument against Harry's words, allowing the next words to ring silently through his head.
I'm going home.
Guess what isn't being posted almost a year later. This!
Title from Radical Face's 'Welcome Home' (are you guys starting to spot a trend here)
If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to ask, and if you could please leave a review, I would be so incredibly grateful.
Thank you!