Harry Potter and the Dark Fortress

by Miss Laine

AU 6th Year. While Harry may have stumbled at the end of fifth year, he's learned to pick himself back up. Now, it's time to rise to the occasion and make his stand. He has his friends, of course, but in the end there are some things he must do alone.

18. Of Animagi and Werewolves

Disclaimer: I don't own HP or anything JK Rowling created.

A/N: Thank you to all those that reviewed! In order to get this chapter up ASAP, I haven't included everyone that reviewed at the bottom of this. I just wanted to get this posted before it got too late at night, so you all would have something new to look forward to or whatever. Thank you for reading, and please keep reviewing! --Miss Laine

0000000000 Chapter 18: Of Animagi and Werewolves 000000000000

Harry woke up very slowly. He felt warm and rested, happily, and it took him several moments to realize that there was an arm around his shoulders. Once he fully realized that, he sat up with a snap.

Only to be pushed back down to the pillows. "Relax, Harry," Remus said quietly. "I just didn't want you to wake up…alone," he explained.

Harry blushed, remembering how he'd said that he always woke up alone. Remus really seemed to not like that idea. "The potion didn't work," he said suddenly, remembering all that had happened while he slept.

"I know," Remus said. "Severus told me as much."

"How did he know?" Harry asked, a little bitterness in his voice. Remus sighed.

"According to Tonks, you showed some rather—ah—adverse reactions to the potion. Namely convulsions, etcetera," Remus said awkwardly.

"Meaning I thrashed around and I screamed," Harry said flatly. Remus sighed…again.

"Yeah," he admitted. "Something like that. Severus forced a few potions down your throat while you were asleep. He's already left to rework his formula. He said it might be the wormwood, but he's not entirely certain yet…"

"Voldemort tried to use Legillimency on me," he said. Remus stiffened.

"What happened?" he asked. Harry smiled slightly.

"I started wishing I'd wake up and then I realized that when I thought—of—of Sirius, the pressure went away a little. But it wasn't enough," he added. "So then I thought about you, and how much you've meant to me this past week and a half."

Remus shifted slightly. "Did it work?" he asked. Harry nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "I don't remember anything after Voldemort had to let me go, though."

"What do you think made him leave?" Remus asked, sounding genuinely curious. Harry smiled, feeling comfortable and rested.

"Emotions," he said. "Sorrow, pain, happiness," he said. "I was remembering that first night when I was feeling sorry for myself," he said.

"You had every right to a chance to cry," Remus told him. Harry shrugged slightly, eyes on the far wall. Remus's arm tightened around his shoulders slightly, and Harry let Remus pull him into leaning against the older man.

"I just felt like I was at the end of my rope," he admitted. "I feel kind of stupid about it now."

"You think I've never cried?" Remus asked. "That your father or Sirius never cried?"

"Not when you were sixteen," Harry said, knowing his face was flushing a little. He couldn't even begin to imagine Sirius crying at the age of sixteen. It seemed highly improbable at the least.

"After that prank…the one that almost killed Severus," Remus said quietly. "I don't think your father or Sirius understood just how frightening that was to me. If I had hurt him—besides being a murderer, they would have stuck me in Azakaban. Or worse, they would have just killed me. It's legal to execute werewolves, even without trials."

"That's wrong," Harry said. He paused, unsure how to phrase the question he wanted to ask. "Do you—do you think they were sorry?" he asked. "You know—that they'd almost killed Snape?"

"I know they were," Remus said firmly. "Your father finally realized what an utter prat he'd been. That's about the time Lily really started to accept him. Sirius…Sirius was a little less vocal in his regret, but I know he realized just how dangerous his pranking had gotten. Of course, he was always certain that Severus would have deserved it…"

"Did they tell you they were sorry for endangering you?" Harry asked. Remus breathed out slowly, obviously hesitant to answer.

"I—I didn't find out about the intended prank for almost a week," he admitted.

"What?!" Harry cried, hurt. Remus shushed him a little and continued.

"I think it was more about how they knew I'd feel guilty than anything else. Albus had a hard time convincing me to continue my sixth year at Hogwarts, when I'd started to realize just how dangerous it was for me to even attend school with other children. Just one mistake, and I could have killed someone—or worse, turned them into a werewolf."

"And then you cried when you found out about it?" Harry pressed. Remus shifted slightly on the bed, readjusting his arm a little around Harry's shoulders.

"It was a little while after I found out. I was just back in the dorms from the infirmary, and Sirius, James, and…Peter…were all asleep as if nothing had happened. I guess what bothered me so much was that they seemed more worried about what could have happened to them if the prank had succeeded than what could have happened to me. It just didn't seem very fair to me at the time," Remus admitted. Harry felt a burn of shame in his stomach.

"They were prats," he stated.

"Harry, your father and Sirius did many noble and kind things," he reminded him. "Just because they were teens and made mistakes doesn't mean they were bad or cruel or anything. They were young men that didn't always see the full consequences of their actions."

"Is everything Snape's said about my father been true?" he asked.

"Is everything he says about you true?" Remus countered.

"No!" Harry said vehemently. "Well—I don't think it is."

"I don't think it is, either," Remus said. "Our perception of events colors them. Severus sees things differently than you or I do. It skews our recollection of events."

"In Snape's penseive," Harry began slowly, "That. It looked to me like two prats having fun picking on the unpopular kid."

"And another, just letting them do it," Remus finished, sounding genuinely regretful and ashamed.

"I just—I couldn't help but think that my dad acted just like Dudley would," Harry admitted. "Like a really dumb Sirius and James. They used to humiliate me like that. They didn't have magic, but they didn't need it."

"Your father may have had an arrogant streak—Sirius too—but they did lots of noble and kind things as well," Remus said. Harry raised an eyebrow, looking over and up at Remus, who was staring at the far wall as Harry had done, his eyes focused on something only he could see.

"Tell me about something they did, then," Harry challenged. "Something nice."

"Well, you know that they became animagi in order to be with me on full moons, right?" Remus asked. Harry nodded.

"Yeah."

"It took them over a year to learn all that they needed and to develop the skills to turn into their animals. But they spent all of their free time working on it, with James working out most of the technical stuff and Sirius forcing them to practice every day for hours in the mornings and evenings," Remus went on, sighing once.

"They never let slip what they were doing, and I never suspected. Later, I found out about some of their more dangerous mistakes when they were learning—like when your father half-transformed and got stuck for an hour. What they did was dangerous and shouldn't have been done without supervision, but they did it for their friend. For me, so I wouldn't have to be alone on the full moon."

"So what?" Harry asked. "They could have done it just as much for the challenge as anything else."

"There was one night they saved my life," Remus said, going on as if Harry had not interrupted. "We were running deep in the Forbidden Forest, I guess—I didn't have Wolfsbane back then, so I don't remember any of this. But James told me about it later, because I was pretty badly cut up the next morning—much more so than usual."

"Then how do you know they didn't lie?" Harry asked.

"You'll see," Remus said vaguely. "Anyway, James told me how the night before we'd run into another werewolf, probably some poor soul who had lived at the edge of the forest for years. Werewolves are lone creatures because it is in their nature to be dominant amongst their own. The other werewolf, as I heard it, was much larger than me and much more experienced. James put himself between us, though, while Sirius dragged me forcibly away from the fight. James escaped after we'd gotten far enough away, but he was cut up and bleeding badly, as was Sirius. Either could have died that night, but they didn't think twice about saving my life, and whomever it was that we met."

Remus paused a moment, and Harry waited. "That afternoon, Dumbledore came to visit me in the infirmary and asked me if I knew anything about a large black dog and huge stag that had broken up a fight between two werewolves. I denied knowing what he was talking about, and he said that perhaps next time, more caution should be used in my 'nighttime excursions.'"

"How did he know?" Harry wondered. Dumbledore always did seem to know everything that was happening.

"I suppose Dumbledore was just keeping an eye on me, somehow, the entire time. I think he already knew that they'd taught themselves to be animagi, and he just wanted to remind me to be careful," Remus said. "Your father was a brave man, Harry. As was Sirius."

"I just wish I could have met my dad, or even Sirius before he was in Azakaban," Harry admitted. "I just wish I had a little proof that they weren't bullies at school. Like Dudley. Picking on the kid that didn't have friends and wasn't big enough to stand up for himself."

"I'm sorry you ever had to live with the Dursleys," Remus said softly. Harry frowned.

"You know, I don't think I regret it," he said. "I mean, I'd give anything to have had my parents, or even have lived with you or Sirius, but the Dursleys taught me a lot."

"Like how to live in a cupboard or avoid getting hit or not ask questions…" Remus grumbled. Harry knew he was blushing now, embarrassed about these things.

"More about humility and seeing things from the victim's point of view," he explained. "About learning when it's a good time to stand up for yourself and when it isn't, or what it's like to the bullied. Sometimes I'm afraid that I've forgotten," he admitted.

"I don't think you would've been a prat if your parents had raised you," Remus offered. "Lily would never have let you be spoilt like that."

"Like Malfoy?" Harry said with a sour smirk. Remus chuckled once.

"Yeah, something like that. You might not believe it, but you're a good kid, Harry," Remus told him.

"When I was younger—before I knew about Hogwarts and magic and all this—I used to always dream that someone, anyone, would come take me away from the Durlseys," he said softly. "Thank you."

"You shouldn't be having to thank me," Remus said. "You should have never had to wish for that in the first place."

"Well, Tom ruined that, didn't he?" Harry said bitterly. "He ruined it for a lot of children."

"But none of them ended up with muggle relatives that hated them," Remus said, sounding angry at himself. Harry sat up a little more, and Remus let him.

"None of it was your fault, Remus," Harry said. "It doesn't matter any more."

"But—" Remus started to argue, but stopped. Harry sighed.

"I never know how to act with you, Remus," he said, changing the subject.

"Huh?" Remus said, blank.

"I—well, I've never really had anyone looking out for me like you do," he said. "I just—I wanted to know how this is going to work before we have any more fights."

"What do you propose, Harry?" Remus asked, sounding perplexed. Harry sat up even more and moved away from Remus. He rolled out of bed and stood up, pacing. Finally, he turned to face Remus, who had stood up as well.

"I—I don't know," he said, feeling frustrated. "I just—sometimes I'm really glad—like this morning—that I've got someone that cares whether I wake up alone or whatever, and other times it just frustrates me to have you picking at my every action," he admitted, trying to be honest. "I feel selfish for wanting you to do certain things for me, but then I get upset when you try to correct me or whatever. I—it's just…uncertain… unpredictable," he fished for the word he was looking for, feeling confused and wondering if anything he was saying was making any sense, but Remus didn't seem upset, so he stopped and watched for Remus's real reaction.

"I know I've never been a father before, Harry, so I'm just as…uncertain…about this as you," Remus said. "I know you don't like having someone scolding you for things you really shouldn't be doing, but it's part of the whole guardian thing, at least to me it is…"

"That's it, though!" Harry cried out, interrupting. "I don't know what that means! I don't know what's going on half the time—you're either hugging me or scolding me, and I don't know what it means. I spent up until just about my sixteenth birthday without anyone at all doing anything to care for me, and I think I got used to it…ergh…it's more that I've always taken care of myself and just ignored the Dursleys. I just feel dumb at sixteen, having a guardian…"

"Do you think it was a mistake?" Remus asked quietly. Harry looked up sharply, afraid he'd see regret at the decision to be his guardian on Remus's face.

But instead he saw just worry. "No, no I don't," Harry said quickly. Remus looked relieved. "But I need to know what to expect. Dumbledore acts like I should know what a guardian does and all that. I was imagining more as a legal thing, or a Marauder's promise thing, but that's not what I want." Harry paused, turning and pacing again.

"Dumbledore should never have left you with the Dursleys," Remus said suddenly, and there was such anger and venom in Remus's voice that it gave Harry a chill. He stopped pacing again and froze, looking up. Fury burned in Remus's eyes, and Harry was glad that it was not directed at him personally.

"I—I think I'm getting used to the hugging thing," he said, hoping to get that look of fury off Remus's face.

It worked, partially, and Remus breathed out slowly. "I know you're not used to it," Remus agreed. Harry shrugged.

"Mrs. Weasley is the first adult I ever remember hugging me," he admitted.

The fire was back in Remus's eyes. "Albus and I are going to have a long chat about his decisions regarding you," he growled. Harry sighed.

"He didn't really have much choice, did he?" he asked. "It was the safest place for me."

"In some respects, I suppose," Remus grudgingly admitted. "But was it worth the price?" he added, almost to himself. Harry didn't pause to wonder about what that had meant, though.

"I just want to know where I stand with you," Harry said. "With Sirius—I mean, he was like a big brother or something," he said, feeling a sharp pang of guilt and sorrow as he thought of his dead godfather. "This is different."

"Well, I assumed you'd come to me if you wanted to visit friends—if you safely could, that is—and when school is in session for things like help with homework or problems in classes or with students or whatnot. I really am trying not to stifle you, Harry, but sometimes…"

"I'm sorry I got in that fight with Malfoy," Harry said, feeling stupid about that whole event.

"I shouldn't have started in on you about it," Remus said back. "It wasn't during school, and I'm sure he wasn't blameless in its beginnings anyway."

"I know you don't agree with how I feel about Professor Snape, either," Harry said. Remus shrugged.

"Again, you are not the only one at fault in your—relationship," Remus said, grimacing at the word 'relationship.' Harry laughed outright.

"Or lack thereof," he supplied.

"While you shouldn't have looked in his penseive, he shouldn't be abusing a student-teacher relationship just to get back at a dead man," Remus said back. Harry shrugged.

"I think I've given up on him ever letting go of that," he admitted.

"Tonks told me that something happened between you two yesterday," Remus said casually. Harry sighed.

"I knew she knew," he said. "Snape…Professor Snape," he corrected himself, "said something snide and completely uncalled for, and I let it get to me. I get tired of taking it all the time, you know? And then he used legillimency on me…"

"What?!" Remus exclaimed, looking enraged.

"It's not anything new," Harry said quickly, "and I'm not really mad about that. I was expecting him to react eventually—I didn't think he'd take a student yelling in his face sitting down—but I just—he picked a memory that was really embarrassing, and it melted into another that was almost worse…"

"Can you tell me about it?" Remus asked. Harry hesitated, then nodded.

"It was when I was something like six or seven, at first," Harry said slowly, sitting back down on the bed and burying his face in his hands. "When Aunt Marge had come over. I was supposed to stay in my cupboard until after she went to bed—so she wouldn't know I was there—but I had to go to the bathroom, so I banged on the inside of the door."

He laughed one short laugh and looked up, feeling stupid. Remus was standing in front of him, having walked silently around next to him, and looked interested in hearing the rest of what Harry had to say. So he went on, although not as easily. "Vernon yelled at me some…after he let me changed my clothes…and then I had to go take care of Ripper—that's Marge's bulldog. And I stepped on his tail and she sicced him on me and I ended up in a tree until after midnight at least."

"And then?" Remus pressed, voice sounding weak.

"Then it melded into this memory from after second year—when I accidentally blew up Marge. And she was talking about my parents…" he trailed off. "I just hate it when people like my relatives, or like Snape, talk about my parents like that. It's not my fault I'm their son. They're dead!"

"I know, Harry," Remus said quietly. "Sometimes others forget that you're not your parents. They're not here, so you're their only symbol of the people they hated. It doesn't make much sense, but I do know that it's not your fault."

"Every time I see Mrs. Weasley, I always wonder what it would be like to have a mother," Harry said. The words were out almost before he'd fully thought them through, and in the ensuing silence his face reddened and he once again buried it in his hands. "That came out badly," he said at last.

"I think it came out honestly," Remus said. "Everyone is supposed to have a mother, or at least a woman that is there for them as a child and loves them unconditionally."

"Well, obviously it doesn't end up that way," Harry said bitterly. "Sometimes I just think that Ron doesn't understand what he's got—he's always embarrassed when his mother fusses over him, even now, and all I can think about it how I'd kill…kill…to be in his shoes."

"I know," Remus sighed.

Harry frowned into his hands and then looked up.

"Do you?" he asked. "Did you decide when you were nine, sitting in a closet on Christmas day, that there wasn't ever going to be anyone that loved you? Did you finally tell yourself that no one was going to come for you? That you'd been left and forgotten and abandoned and ignored, and that wasn't ever going to change?" Harry's voice steadily rose as he spoke, until at the end when he was almost yelling.

"In some respects," Remus said softly, so softly and sadly that Harry stopped dead in his frustrated anger.

"What?"

Remus sighed, looking melancholy. "I was bitten when I was a small child, Harry," he said. "There was no way to stop me from contracting the curse, and there was no Wolfsbane Potion to keep it under any semblance of control. My parents still loved me, certainly, but I knew they feared me." Remus shook his head. "Being a werewolf means I'm tired all the time, I feel sick all of the time, and I spend a lot of time recovering from transformations. As a ten year old boy, it was probably the worst thing imaginable."

Harry felt ridiculous. "I didn't think about that," he admitted. "I guess lately I've been so caught up in thinking I've gotten the worst life's got to give…it's like I said. Sometimes I forget what it's like to be at the bottom looking up."

Remus looked halfway between sad and angry when Harry glanced at his guardian's face. Harry wasn't sure what the emotions were meant for, and waited for Remus to speak. "My parents may have feared me—rather, the wolf inside of me—but they loved me, Harry," Remus said sincerely. "They were there for me for a long time. I wouldn't trade the love of my parents to be free from this curse."

"You wouldn't?" Harry asked, genuinely surprised. "Well, I guess I wouldn't know…" He trailed off, thinking about how Remus must have felt as a child, cursed, and trying to go to school and have friends and all that.

"No, I suppose not…" Remus almost whispered. Harry sighed.

"I would've traded anything for my parents back," he said aloud. "I used to imagine on my birthday that they'd come, and every night I'd watch the clock go to midnight…and every year, it became morning and afternoon and night and on and on…and no one ever came…"

There was a rock in his throat, he was sure, choking him. It all came down to the fact that for eleven years, no one had come. No one had rescued him, and over all those years he had let the loneliness devour him. He'd been firmly convinced that no one would ever come for him.

He felt stupid and weak and silly and confused and mixed up all at once, and he wasn't sure why any of this mattered anymore. He'd put his past all behind him when he'd found out about Hogwarts, but obviously it hadn't been enough. Things he'd learned as a child still haunted him, and this summer had brought them back to the surface.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Remus said, and Harry could clearly hear the honesty and sorrow in those words. "I—we never imagined that it was that bad…I was not in a position to be of any help for many years…"

"Shut up," Harry said angrily, standing again. "I can hear the guilt in your voice, Remus, and you're not at fault. I'm just upset and whining about my oh-so miserable childhood. Yours was bad too," he said. "It's stupid anyway."

"No it's—"

"Yes, it is," Harry cut in, turning to face Remus. "It's all already happened, and there's nothing I can do to change that. This whole talk was supposed to be about our relationship anyway."

"I think you're wrong about it being in the past, but I'll let it go for now," Remus said.

"I just want to be sure that if you're mad at me, you're not thinking this was all some big mistake," Harry said, glad that Remus was willing to let it go. He hadn't really meant to say so much, but it was like he hadn't been able to stop it from coming out. Remus looked surprised.

"Never!" he cried. "Harry, even parents get mad at their kids—surely you've seen Mrs. Weasley shout at Ron?"

"Well, yeah," Harry admitted. "But it's because she's worried about something he's done or whatever. She's afraid she's going to lose him."

"I don't yell at you because I wish I hadn't signed those papers, Harry," Remus said. "It's because I don't want to see you get hurt. I don't want to see you make the mistakes that can push you into dark magic. Children with bad homes tend to fall that way."

"I wouldn't ever be tempted by something that Voldemort uses," Harry said stubbornly. Remus sighed.

"What if you knew that a Dark spell would let you destroy Voldemort?" he asked. Harry opened his mouth, but didn't answer. "Exactly," Remus said. "It's tempting, but is it right to sink to your enemy's level, just to destroy him? Does that make you any better than what you destroyed? Do you just replace it? Who's to decide?"

"I think I understand what you mean," Harry said. Remus smiled.

"Good," he said. "Dark magic cannot solve your problems."

There was a long, but not uncomfortable silence, while Harry and Remus both thought over all that had been said. Harry's thoughts were on his almost-use of the Cruciatus Curse on LeStrange.

Never again would he let anger tempt him, he told himself. It's not worth it. Bellatrix should be in prison, Harry told himself, not being judged by him. He was not the one to decide her punishment.

He just hoped he could stick to that belief when he saw her again.

"What time is it, anyway?" he asked after a bit.

"Past ten, I suppose," Remus said. "No one's in a real hurry this morning."

"Where is everyone else?" he asked.

"Downstairs or out on Order business," Remus shrugged. "It's actually pretty calm today."

"Are you feeling better?" he asked. Remus rubbed his neck slightly, but smiled.

"A little stiff, but it doesn't hurt," he reported. Harry smiled.

"Good," he said. "You're not allowed to get hurt."

Remus grinned. "I'll keep that in mind. As long as you come to me when you have a problem."

"Deal," Harry said, turning away a little and thinking of how different it could have been if he'd gone to Remus or anyone, anyone at all, when he'd had the vision with Sirius. Perhaps his godfather would still have been alive…

"I think there might be some breakfast downstairs, if you feel up to it," Remus suggested. Harry nodded.

"Sure," he agreed. "Yeah."

Harry let Remus put his arm around his shoulders in a very fatherly gesture as they left the bedroom. It was good to know where he stood with Remus now, before it became too confusing and complicated. He'd been absolutely honest when he'd admitted that he didn't understand family relationships, but he also wanted to learn. He wanted a family, even if it was almost too late for it. Even just having someone he could depend on would make his life just a little bit more normal.

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A/N: Here's a few answered questions and few specific thank-yous.

Stahchild, gaul1, Bubbly, Crackerjacknpez, Al, sarah, Wind Whisperer, catti, Nadezhda, Angel74, Lynn-50670, Dark-Kimberly-Hart, Kyo-kun, Kateydidnt, and others—you've all been wonderful reviewers! Thanks so much!

Dianne – Wow! You reviewed so much and with so much care, it left me astounded. I like your insights into my chapters, and some of your suggestions are really great…if you see one used later, let me thank you ahead of time. Again, thanks, and keep reviewing.

Loony – Promises will continue. After your reminder, I realized I had, in fact, been neglecting that story rather shamefully. As you read this, I'm probably finishing up the last chapter. That's right. The very last chapter. I have other projects I'm working on, so those'll be up soon, too.

Shadowsfriend – I'm glad you're still reading. Sorry about the horribly long hiatus thing, but it just wasn't going to happen over the summer. I had almost no internet access, and I was working almost full time. But, like I've mentioned, I did do a lot of editing—and I mean a lot—on my stories. Hopefully, they're a little better now.

Ash Knight – I was wondering if people would question my choice of memory. I had several different versions planned out, but I needed something that would make Harry's hate for Snape grow, but wouldn't make it so that no reconciliation could every be reached between the two. Just as I don't think that Harry saw Snape's worst memory in the penseive, this wasn't really Harry's ultimate worst memory ever. Just something highly embarrassing and secret to him.

Numba1: I know you have a lot of questions about my story, so I'll answer as best as I can. Harry's a teenager. Teens are rather moody—I mean, I know I was, and so were just about every other teen I know, and their moods don't have to make sense. Harry shouted at Ron and Hermione for things that weren't really their fault, at least not to me, but teens see things differently I guess. Harry knows he has to learn Occlumency—and he has finally, finally, figured it out. Snape is an important character, and I think it's important that at some point Snape and Harry are able to put their differences aside and at least stop the hostilities. Snape keeps pushing Harry in his own way—he wants to see Harry fail as much as he knows that Harry must succeed, I think. But perhaps he'll realize that Harry's not what he seems to be—something that Snape hasn't seemed to grasp despite numerous Occlumency lessons with Harry during Harry's fifth year. I think Harry is willing to overlook things like his aunt's attack and Snape's attacks—at least to a certain extent—because he's almost constantly under attack from much more dangerous things…like, oh, say, Voldemort. Harry grew up in what seems to me to be a rather abusive home, but I think it really doesn't register to him that it should have been different…at least not until now, that is. A sixteen year old can look back and compare their life to others that they know and evaluate their childhood, and Harry's doing this and seeing just how awful it was.

Wow, I'm rambling now. Hopefully, I haven't given anything away, and I hope you keep reading, if just to see if it works out the way you'd hope it would work out. I'm doing my best to stick to a roughly realistic plotline, but I'm no JK Rowling. You'll have to wait for her Book 6 if you want the 'real' story.

Thanks again,

Miss Laine