Disclaimer: Mine they are not. But dreams are free (although Harry might think differently at the end of this chapter).

ooOOoo

Chapter 28: Remus Helps

The stairs were dusty and sometimes steep, sometimes levelling to long, narrow corridors without doors or windows. On the steeper parts Harry picked up the badger, who always gave a token grumble but seemed to be secretly pleased to have some help. They were both so exhausted when they finally came to a door at the top of a particularly narrow and twisting set of stairs that they walked through it without thinking about where it might open to.

It opened into a Hogwarts corridor. A busy Hogwarts corridor. Harry, putting the wriggling badger back down on the ground, had no idea what time it was but suspected it was near curfew, so maybe that was why so many people were going along it – and staring at him curiously as they passed. Of course, it was the corridor just outside the library and it was Thursday evening and assignments tended to be due either Friday or Monday, so people might have been out finishing up homework.

Whatever the reason, Harry could have done without the attention. Even the portraits were staring. A portrait containing a group of witches in a bright array of robes pointed and giggled behind their fans. One of the witches, a pretty young woman wearing buttercup-yellow robes, gave him a very hard look. He stepped back, almost tripping over the badger that was huddled behind him, as he tried to go back through the door.

It had disappeared.

Of course.

Harry had a nasty moment when he thought he didn't have the disguising glamour on him any more (and surely people would get suspicious at the sight of someone who looked almost exactly like one of their fellow students, albeit a dusty and exceedingly bedraggled version). But then he sagged with relief, remembering how, back in the tunnel right after they'd fallen in, Severus had re-set the glamour. Apparently the spell James had cast had only dented it. Severus had been able to re-set it in a fraction of the time it took to cast the thing from scratch. It was a shame his hair had gone back to being its normal mop, Harry thought, ruffling it until dust clouded him, but at least it was now a light brown mop. He was especially pleased the glamour was still in place when a familiar voice said:

"Lovegood?"

Oh, Merlin. Remus. Just what Harry didn't need. Harry scowled and the badger growled softly.

"I thought we were going to talk about tunnels at dinner? I thought you might be in the li– Oh dear – what happened?" Remus stood with his hands on his hips, taking in Harry from the top of his scraped and dirty head to the toes of his dirty sneakers poking out beneath his (dirty) robes. Luckily he didn't make an issue out of the bundle of cloth Harry was carrying. "You're almost grey. Did something attack you? Did Snape –?"

Harry's lips tightened. "Why don't you ask your friends?"

Remus bit his lip. Harry couldn't help noticing that he was looking even more stressed tonight. How close was the full moon? He'd assumed – for no good reason other than optimism – that the full moon had just passed, but now he suspected it was quite the opposite. Remus looked as if he was searching for the right words. But he was interrupted in what he was planning on saying by a female voice.

"Remus, what –? Oh. Hello."

Harry steeled himself not to look away again. He'd already faced the worst – finding out his father was a complete and utter – whatever that word Severus had used was. And now here was his mother again, green eyes flicking between Harry and Remus, and Harry could guess that she was trying to work out why Harry looked at least as bad as Remus. Harry nodded to her; he could at least be polite, especially as the way he had bolted earlier had been anything but. "Hello."

"So… you're not running away from me now?" A small smile, testing the waters.

Harry decided to let her know there were crocodiles before he had to undergo the piranhas in her own waters. "Why? At least here the view is good enough to let me see your boyfriend before he manages to sneak up behind me again."

Lily frowned, and Harry remembered that someone had told him once that he'd inherited her temper.

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"Really? Well, he seemed to think that beating me up was the solution to my heinous affront to you in the library. So that wasn't your wand he used to hex me with? Because I'd just confiscated what I thought was his. Speaking of which… I'll give it to you. There's Pettigrew's and Black's as well… you can work out if you want to give them back or not."

Lily went pale and her green eyes glittered coldly and her lips pressed together so tightly they were bloodless. But she wasn't looking at Harry. She stared down at the three wands he gave her, and Harry wasn't sure if she was embarrassed or just very, very angry. And if she was angry, he wasn't sure if it was at him or not. Harry told himself he didn't care. She took a deep breath through her nose, just like Harry did when he was seeing red. A bit like how he had felt when his own father had attacked him. "I'm –"

"Don't bother," Harry said quietly. "I already know what a complete pillock he is. I guess I just didn't want to have you turn out to be the same. Excuse us."

He ignored her expression of mingled anger and consideration – although if he'd been less tired he would have found the glimmer of curiosity more threatening – and stalked off down the corridor with the badger trotting at his heels.

Remus caught up with them just around the corner. There was a notable absence of Lily Evans.

"Harry – wait." He put his hand on Harry's shoulder.

There was a blood-curdling growl. It didn't come from the werewolf, who stepped back quickly.

The badger glared up at him.

"Ah. Yes. I noticed you had a badger. Um – where's Snape?"

"He's around somewhere. Probably finding some bandages or something," Harry added snidely. "Merlin knows he needs it with you lot picking on him all the time."

Remus rubbed his temple. Harry couldn't help noticing the first grey hairs were sprouting through already. "It's not like he doesn't give us grief, you know…"

"I wonder why?" Harry said as sarcastically as he could, which wasn't very. He was tired and wanted food and sleep and a bath, preferably all at the same time.

There was a small alcove set into the wall. A window behind it showed the stars. It was nice to see them standing still in the firmament for a change. Harry, starting to wobble in their stead, sat down before his legs could give out. He was dimly aware of Remus sitting down next to him.

"Are you all right? You don't look all the best."

"I missed dinner." He reached down and scooped up the badger for reassurance. It crouched in his lap, glaring at Remus, nose twitching as if it could smell something not quite right.

"Oh. I didn't see you there."

"I suppose your three goons were there?"

Harry looked up in time to see Remus' brow furrow. "They were looking a little battered. I take it that was you who burned James? He was –"

"He was attacking me while I had my back to him," Harry snapped. "And I didn't hex him." He stroked the badger's back. "Luckily for him. I might have used a hotter flame."

"What was that you were saying to Evans before? About her boyfriend attacking you?"

"Well, if Potter isn't her boyfriend it's pretty damned obvious he wants to be. And it looks like going around bullying everyone else is really attractive to her."

Remus' frown deepened. "Lily isn't like that."

Harry rubbed his face tiredly. "She is. She must be, you see. That's the only way they would…"

"I don't see. Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm perfect fo- fine. Perfectly fine. I – I've said too much anyway. There's stuff I have to do…" Suddenly realising how dangerous it was to be this tired – tired enough to spill secrets that needed to wait twenty years – he stood, swaying, with the badger clutched in his arms. It growled, and Harry realised he was holding it. "Sorry," he muttered as he put it on the floor.

"Harry… will you wait here for a minute? Curfew is in five minutes but I should be able to get you something to eat before it. I'll be back in a sec. Wait. Please."

He left, his robes flowing out behind him from his haste.

Harry couldn't think of anything better to do so he sat down again. Partly because he really needed some food, but also because he was so tired it was nice to have someone do the thinking for him for the moment. He felt a small body settle at his feet and relaxed a little more.

People went past the alcove but none stopped, to his relief. There was a brief conversation between two girls just around the corner that made him pay unwilling attention: they were worried about the full moon tomorrow night. Apparently one of the girls had an aunt in Hogsmeade, and the aunt had been out walking two months ago on the full moon. She was sure she'd nearly been attacked by a werewolf, but a stag and a big black dog had somehow distracted it while she escaped. She'd only been drinking eggnog, she swore, but everyone in the family was saying it had been firewhisky. Still debating the likelihood of a werewolf near Hogwarts, the two moved off, leaving Harry with something else to try not to think about. Harry had a moment's peace before the badger growled, long and low. He opened his eyes to see an unwelcome sight. Two unwelcome sights.

"Lupin went that way," Harry said, pointing with his chin down the corridor.

Sirius and James glared down at him. Both had marks – Sirius was scratched from where he'd landed in the tree, and a bandage was wrapped around his hand. Harry vaguely remembered Severus biting him. It shouldn't have been a happy thought, but right now Harry didn't care about that, and simply smiled slightly at the memory. James looked even less like Harry now; the burn marks were mild but livid. And the potion someone – presumably Madam Pomfrey – had put on it had turned his skin orange.

Harry was exhausted. He'd had a really strange day – three times, now, his life had been in danger today; once in Potions and twice in the last hour. Not to mention these clowns attacking him so much earlier this evening it felt like last month. He felt hollow inside, but at the sight of these two that hollowness was filling up fast with what felt like lava. It was something hot and primordial, anyway. And there was no moral reasoning behind it. At his feet the badger kept up a continuous low growl.

"Where's your greasy friend?" sneered Sirius, ignoring the animal crouching in the shadows.

Harry considered punching his face in for half a second. The fact that Sirius at sixteen or seventeen was significantly taller and heavier than him wasn't that much of an issue today. He lowered his eyelids instead, trying to bottle up this strange, inhuman rage that lay thick against the back of his throat and lent the world an alien red hue. "He's dead. Well done. You finally managed to finish what you've been trying all these years."

James scoffed, but looked a little rattled. "We've never tried to kill anyone."

"No? So how did he break his arm the other week? Accident, was it?" Severus had mentioned it in passing yesterday, but Harry was guessing at the details. If he was hoping to have them proven wrong, he was about to be disappointed.

Sirius snorted. "Of course. Probably slipped on his own grease. So what if we were there and maybe helping him with his, ah, balance? You can't prove anything. Shame the stairs were moving at the time. He only fell one floor."

Harry reached down and stroked the badger's hair flat. Futile, really; the hair only bristled up again. "Of course. Strange how often that happens, though. I wonder what people would think if they ever went and got some statistics from Madam Pomfrey?"

"He doesn't go to the hospital wing," James said. "You don't see him there that often."

"Funny how fast people can learn spells to heal themselves – especially when they get so much practice."

"Huh. If he were dead there would be a party being held." Sirius shifted so that he was standing between Harry and escape. He'd tried to make it look subtle, but Harry had grown up with Dudley Dursley and his friends whose hobby had been trapping Harry and making his life hell. Harry knew all the signs.

Harry didn't feel threatened anymore. Quite the opposite. Calmly, he said, "If he were dead there would be an inquiry. Who knows what they'd find? And I wonder who would go to Azkaban? What's the penalty for murder, anyway?"

James, who was looking pale, asked, "Where is he really? If he was dead Dumbledore would have said something."

Harry blinked his scorn. "Not if someone attacked him while he was testing out a spell to locate tunnels. Not if his body was transported underground by the backlash of a miscast spell."

James looked ill. "I don't believe you."

Harry watched the man who would become his father. Part of him wanted to stand up and walk away. The rest of him needed to stay and keep going. It was like picking at a scab or squeezing a pimple. Horribly fascinating and you pretty much knew it was inevitable that what you would end up with wouldn't be your favourite Bertie Bott Bean flavour. "Don't, then. Makes no difference to me what you believe. I grew up with people like you. My cousin and his thuggish friends." He curled his lip, unconsciously imitating Snape. "They had nothing better to do with their lives than make my life hell. What sort of person has that as their favourite game? People like that make me sick. People like you make me sick."

Sirius growled and stepped forward, his fists on his hips as he sneered down at Harry. "You little piece of –"

James stepped forward too, but to put a hand on Sirius' shoulder. Too late. There was a sharp crack and Sirius screamed.

Harry blinked, dazedly thinking someone had cast a spell.

But no.

The badger had cannoned forward and butted the tall, muscular student in the shins with its skull. The badger, snarling like a vampire who'd just seen how much dentists charge, seemed unharmed, bouncing on its four feet, but Sirius clutched at his shins. "Ow ow flippin' ow!"

The badger took advantage of the lowered head and leaped up, bouncing off Harry's knees to sink its fangs into Sirius' cheek.

Sirius's shriek rattled the glass panes in their leading. A few portraits called out, "I say! Are you all right? Someone help!"

Sirius shook his head and swung an arm, and the badger flew off to the side. Blood streamed down Sirius' face and dripped off his chin: the badger's teeth had torn right through.

The badger bounced off the wall. Fearing how this would end, Harry stood and took out his wand, just as Sirius spun and kicked the badger before it could charge at him again.

The badger gasped Oomph! as it hit the wall. Sirius strode forward, snarling, as the badger shook its head dizzily.

James was saying something, trying to stop them, but his voice was hollow in Harry's ears.

The world crystallised as Harry stepped between Sirius and Severus.

In the brittle personal silence he found within the roaring tempest of his blood pounding in his ears and reddening his vision, Harry grabbed a fistful of Sirius' robes. He touched the tip of his wand to Sirius' throat. Blood ran down it. Harry ignored it. There could very well be a great deal more blood in a second.

"Stop right there," he said softly.

Sirius stopped, staring into Harry's eyes.

Harry continued in the low, cold whisper that couldn't have carried out of the alcove, "If you harm him I will kill you. If your kick has done any permanent damage I will kill you. If you come near him again I will kill you. Am I clear?"

Sirius was almost going cross-eyed trying to work out which of Harry's eyes to stare into. He swallowed and his Adam's apple bounced off the tip of Harry's wand.

"Siri…" It was James. He put his hand on Sirius' shoulder and gently eased him back. Harry let go of Sirius' robes before he had to suffer hearing his father ask him to. "Sirius… back off." James didn't take his eyes off Harry and his face was ashen.

"James? Sirius?"

Oh, damn, thought Harry. Remus was back. With a large wicker picnic basket.

Remus peered into the alcove, taking in at one glance the drawn wand, the blood, and the snarling, bristling badger. "What in Merlin's name is going on here?" he breathed. For half a second Harry saw a yellow-eyed wolf looking out from behind a tired student's eyes.

"Why don't you ask your friends?" Harry hissed. "You told me to wait here. And so I did. Nicely set out as a target, yes?"

Remus' mouth thinned and he closed his eyes for a second. "No. No, Harry, I didn't leave you here to be attacked. I'm sorry that you were given cause to think that I would. James and Sirius were meant to meet me in the library, but I had to arrange something with Lily – we're both prefects, you see. And then I met up with you and you needed some food. I've brought some food from the house elves for you – see?" He held up a basket and opened the lid. There was enough food for two. He continued talking in that low, comforting voice. "There's food for you and Severus if you find him – but don't try the jar there. I asked the house elves what was best for badgers and they put something in a jar for your little friend. Now would you like to put your wand down and take the basket? I promise on my honour and fifty points from Gryffindor that if you put your wand down no-one will harm you. Do you hear me, Harry? James? Sirius?"

James and Sirius were watching Harry and Remus carefully, occasionally shooting glances down at the black-and-white bundle of vibrating anger on the floor.

"Can you control your badger, Harry?" Remus asked.

With a sigh, Harry took his wand from Sirius' throat. After a final stare to make sure Sirius understand that it was in his best interests not to try anything funny, Harry stepped back. "Come here, please," he said to the badger.

It growled, but went to him, stalking in a wide detour around Sirius. Harry bent down to gently feel its body. "Are you all right?" he whispered.

The badger nickered softly and only winced a little as Harry poked carefully at one rib. As the badger didn't bite Harry guessed the rib wasn't broken. Just bruised. He felt some satisfaction straightening up and seeing the blood still dribbling off Sirius' chin.

In silence, Remus held out the basket.

Harry took it, feeling like it was the first step in a disarmament treaty. "Thank you," he said stiffly. "It was kind of you to think of the badger."

Remus nodded. "I'm going to take these two back to the dormitory now. Do you have a place to go? Are you sure?" he added as Harry nodded. "Well. If you're sure. If you have any trouble, please ask me for help. Or any of the prefects, actually – I won't be able to help you tomorrow evening or the day after, I'm afraid: I've got a little health matter that needs to be taken care of. And I think it would be a good idea if you talked to Professor Dumbledore."

"Remus," James said as his friend tried to usher him and Sirius back out of the alcove. "We need to talk to Dumbledore – he said Snape's dead."

Remus turned, quiet panic on his face. "What? I thought you said Severus was fine?"

"I never said that."

Remus looked as if he was struggling hard against the same deep rage Harry still had throbbing in his veins. "Harry – you must tell me. Is Severus in trouble? Is he – is he dead?"

Harry couldn't keep up the lie to Remus. "No. He's not dead."

"Shame," sniggered Sirius, then oof'ed as his two friends elbowed him in the ribs.

Harry fingered his wand. "He's none of your business," he said softly. "Would-be murderers shouldn't be given information about their targets. Oh, and you scream like a girl."

Sirius flushed, or maybe that was the effect of the blood smeared across his face. James looked away. Remus narrowed his eyes sharply at Harry. "That's a little strong, don't you think?"

"But he does scream like a girl – Oh, yes, I know what you mean." Harry pursed his lips, thinking of a boy who hated his environment so much he would think about poisoning everyone in it, yet end up saving those people after a disaster in Potions without stopping to consider that he could choose not to. And his reward was a hundred points and a blind eye to his bullies. Meanwhile the authorities didn't pay enough attention to the bullies, who thought they could get away with anything. Up to and including running with a werewolf at the full moon, having the occasional near-brush with innocent people, and laughing about how close it had been.

"Why? Because it hasn't gone to court yet? In a decent world the sort of abuse that goes on at this school would never have gone as far as it has. Breaking someone's arm and thinking it's a fine joke? That's not funny. It's sick. Really, deeply sick. It's the kind of thing psychopaths join up with Voldemort for. And it's just a short step between a prank designed to break someone's arm to a prank that accidentally breaks someone's neck. So as far as I'm concerned that makes you no better than murderers. A little bit like the sort of murderer who would have a nasty disease and not care about going out and risking infecting others. Maybe," he added slowly, taking in every carefully suppressed twitch of Remus', "that person would even laugh about it with his friends afterwards. I met a werewolf like that once. I don't mind werewolves, they're people like us most of the month, but someone like that should have been locked up in Azkaban for the sociopath he was."

Remus flinched and went as pale as James. He dragged off his two friends without another word, his expression deeply wounded.

Harry told himself he didn't care. It was nice of Remus to have found the food for him, but as far as he was concerned a meal didn't make up for putting people's lives in danger.

"Come on," he said to the badger, who was looking up at him, slightly puzzled. "Let's go back. I really need to listen to that Pink Floyd record right about now."

The badger nodded.

Harry went out into the now mercifully silent corridors. They were as empty as he felt.

As he turned the corner towards the storeroom, he heard soft footsteps hurrying to catch up with him.

Harry whirled, wand at the ready.

James Potter held up his hands. "I'm not here to fight."

Harry lifted his eyebrows.

"I… Is Snape all right?" James asked. His face was still pale where it could be seen under the orange lotion.

"What's it to you?"

"I know what you think of me. But I never wanted him to die."

"No. You just wanted to break his arm."

James bit his lip. Harry knew he did the same thing when he was in the wrong and wanting to make it right. "I never wanted to break his arm."

"But you did anyway. What was your defence going to be after you broke his neck? 'I'm sorry, Your Honour. That wasn't what I wanted to do.' I don't think a judge in the real world is going to be half as indulgent as Dumbledore. Now what do you really want? Someone to tell you you're not such a bad person after all? Because you are. You're a complete and utter shit, James Potter. And you have no idea how much you… it… it gutted me to meet you."

James, looking like someone had just hit him in the midriff with a Beater's bat, opened his mouth a couple of times, but there were no words. More from a desire to get rid of him than from any pity, Harry said, "He's not dead. Now piss off and leave me alone." He turned and stalked off, just as the soft rippling charm announcing curfew sounded softly through the corridor.

From behind him came the voice, so much like Harry's own, calling out, "You won't believe me, but I'm glad he's not dead. Not because I'm afraid of Azkaban, but because – because I don't ever want to be responsible for anyone's death. Not Snape's. Not anyone's. Lovegood?"

"Words are cheap," Harry said without looking back. "Actions are what prove worth. Now piss off." That was a phrase he'd picked up from Severus – Harry had never sworn so much since he'd become friends with him. Who would have though Severus Snape, master of the English language and with a higher degree in Applications in Sarcasm, would ever have had chosen swearing as a first resort?

He turned the next corner, ears half-ready to hear his father creeping after him with a hex on his tongue, but he was alone again.

Alone surrounded by people who either cared nothing for him or who would try to harm him if they could – especially if they knew who his enemies were. Hell, some of his future enemies were at school now. His future so-called friends would hex him just to keep in practice for when he left and Severus would be an easier target again.

Sometimes he wondered what the difference between Voldemort and everyone else was meant to be.

But then he touched the warm gold of the Sickle in his robes, smelled the rich smell of chocolate cake thoughtfully provided by the house elves rising from the basket hooked over his arm and heard the click of claws on the stone behind him, and the world took on a slight tinge of colour again.

He wasn't completely alone.

And although he'd found out a great deal of things he would have gladly never have learned, he'd found his prize: the Golden Sickle of Helga Hufflepuff.

And he'd found a friend. He looked down at the badger tagging along at his heels and smiled sadly.

Not the friend he'd expected to find, no.

ooOOoo

They made it as far as the unused prefect's bathroom for which Dumbledore had given Harry the password. There, they took a detour for a quick wash which made each of them feel a great deal better. Harry used the shower faucet to sluice a kilo of dirt off the grateful badger, who wasn't keen on finding out if badgers can swim, and slipped into a tub to scrub the dirt off himself. He considered sleeping in the bathroom, floating happily in a big tub of bubbles, but the badger gave him one of those looks that suggested someone was going to get a nip on the nose if that someone didn't get moving. Cleaner, hungrier, and swaying slightly with exhaustion, they found their way back through the now-dark corridors to the little storeroom. Harry had dried the badger off with one of the towels which had appeared the second time he looked at the towel rail, but it was still damp and left little pawprints in the dust of the disused corridor. Harry hoped people would think it was just Mrs Norris on the prowl. They might even stay away if they thought Filch patrolled here on a regular basis and that Mrs Norris was suddenly the possessor of an awesome set of claws.

Now, safely ensconced in the storeroom, Harry was too tired to summon the magic to change Severus back; even touching the Sickle didn't give him a hint of the power he'd channelled when he'd stopped the tunnel crushing them to death. He sighed and looked at the badger, who was snuffling inside the picnic basket. With a small snort of satisfaction, the Severus-badger tipped the basket over and pulled out some sandwiches wrapped in grease-proof paper. Cucumber dropped from the sides.

"Are all badgers as messy as you?" Harry asked, and yawned. When he looked again the badger was yawning, too. Harry couldn't help laughing. "The contagious yawn strikes again, huh?"

The badger might have smiled – if badgers were capable of smiling. It didn't look cross, anyway, which was something considering who it really was. After spitting out some cucumber (which couldn't have been to a badger's taste as much as it was to a human's), it abandoned the sandwiches and went after the jar.

Harry had to unscrew the lid.

"Yuck. You aren't seriously wanting to eat that, are you?"

The badger peered at the live worms and huffed as a beetle tried to make a break for it. It licked its nose and shuffled back, snorting as if it had just smelt something bad.

Harry recapped the jar. "I guess there is only so far that spell can change someone."

The badger nodded and tried to right the basket.

"I'll get it," said Harry. "Here. Try some chicken."

Chicken, a beef sandwich and half a hard-boiled egg were enough for the badger. Harry ate the rest of the sandwiches and some cake and washed it down with pumpkin juice. He poured some into a saucer the house elves had kindly added, and set it down on the floor. The badger lapped it up thirstily.

"Not such a bad way to finish the day, is it?" Harry said as they lay down to sleep, Harry in the blankets and Severus curled up in his robes (Harry had taken the Sickle out so the badger wouldn't be jabbed). The badger yawned in reply, showing again just how wicked those white fangs were, and nestled down.

Harry wanted to think about what to do tomorrow… how he should hide the Sickle from Dumbledore (who wouldn't approve of Harry's having it), but he was asleep as soon as he snuffed out the candle (also from the house elves, wonderful, underrated creatures that they were, he thought muzzily) and put his head down.

He dreamed he was back in his own time, up on Squirrel Hill brushing Simon. Someone was helping him brush the horse; Harry kept getting glimpses of greasy black hair hanging over a boy's face, and a serious expression as Severus concentrated on his work. The sun in the blue sky was warm on Harry's head and the grass was a bright green. Luna was somewhere nearby, he knew (as you do in dreams), as were Draco, Ron and Hermione. For some reason everyone here were friends. And when Harry looked up into the sky he saw the sun was a crescent like the moon, but gold, and the clouds were shaped into Ogham letters which spelt out victory. And in the dream Severus peered over Simon's back, smiled at Harry, and said, Thank you for bringing me back with you.

ooOOoo