Carry On

By: Teenlaunch

Disclaimer: Can't we just leave this out? It's so obvious. Anyway, no, I am not the proud owner of Harry Potter. If I was, SOME people wouldn't have died in the last book.

a/n: Hey, I'm on time this week! But…it is shorter than I had planned. Editing takes more time than actually writing this stuff! Well, just be thankful anything's coming out again. Hang in there. I'll try to make the next chapter longer. Promise. Read and review! (Hint: the more reviews I get, the more motivated I am to update.)

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A terrible scream tore through Harry's mind. He spun around to look for its source, and it wasn't hard to find. A half-human body was curled up on a giant bed in the corner of the room, bright moonlight streaming though the single window to fall across the mutated body. Harry thoughts, however, instead of focusing on the alien form across from him, focused on himself. Everything around him was huge, like it belonged to a giant. It made him feel extremely small, like he had shrunk as he slept. But he didn't remember waking up. Before he could ponder over it any more, his body began to involuntarily move forward, the flicker of his silver paw not distracting him in the slightest until he reached up to scratch his nose with it. Harry started. Why did he have a silver paw, and why was he so tiny? He wasn't even as big as his foot would normally be! His right hand was silver, but it wasn't a hand anymore. It was a paw. Harry's mind flew into action. There were only two explanations. Either he was inside someone's head, or he had finally lost his mind. And he was hoping it was the former.

Another scream. He started and quickly scampered up the chair leg onto a cluttered desk. He glanced over at the huddled figure. It was shaking and moaning. The body was transforming, growing hair, a tail, claws, teeth, a snout, ears, and a dog-like nose. Harry made himself small as possible as the figure continued yelling and convulsing. Suddenly, the yells turned to howls. A low whining rose up and Harry felt his body quiver in fear as a full-grown werewolf rose from the bed. It padded around the room on all fours, resembling what Harry believed a wolf on steroids would look like.

Harry again noticed his legs were moving without his consent, something he had always hated in his visions with Voldemort, but now it was even worse as he had no idea whose mind he was sharing. The werewolf wheeled around and stared at the small, petrified Harry and growled. Harry squeaked and hid behind a picture frame, poking his head around the corner to watch the wolf. The werewolf swung its paw toward him, but its claws hit something solid and sparks flew. The werewolf roared in anger and began a furious barrage on the invisible barriers. The werewolf stopped and began bounding around the room, bouncing off the invisible boundaries around all the furniture.

The werewolf growled in frustration and began biting and scratching itself instead. Harry watched in morbid fascination as blood trickled slowly from its mouth. With a particularly vicious bite, its left paw began bleeding, spilling blood over its other paws and tail. Harry screamed, lashing out against whatever was anchoring him to the creature's mind. For a moment he could feel two other presences inside the animal with him. He disregarded them and began flailing with all his might. It felt like his head was caught in a blender.

With a wild jerk, he fell out of bed. He struggled for a moment with his covers before he jumped up. He looked around in alarm. Why had no one woken him up this time? He had forgotten to put the silencer on the bed.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the window. The full moon blazed through the curtains. Harry's hands began sweating as he remembered his dream. He had been a small animal with a silver paw. It had something to do with Voldemort. Three large animals near the edge of the forest caught Harry's eye. He watched them for a moment until he saw a smaller animal on top of the stag's head. It was a rat.

Harry's breathing quickened. It wasn't possible. He couldn't have been Pettigrew. Unless…unless the rat was trying to tell him something and had purposefully connected them. No, that couldn't be it. But, if he had been Pettigrew, then where had he been to witness a werewolf transformation? The Pettigrew of this time didn't have a silver hand yet, but the future Pettigrew did. Which meant… "They're here," Harry groaned and sank onto Remus's bed. He put his throbbing head in his hands. Why would the older Pettigrew want to watch Remus's transformation at the Shrieking Shack? But that couldn't be right. The man had been older than Remus. And yet he didn't look too different. But they had been inside…inside the…castle.

"Remus," Harry breathed. He jumped up and threw his trunk open. He dove into it, his head almost touching the bottom as he searched, praying he was wrong. His fingers finally closed around his cloak and map. He pulled them out and hurried down to the common room, quickly checking that no one was awake. In one leap, he was out in the corridor, his invisibility cloak flapping behind him, pounding toward Lupin's sleeping quarters, hoping to not have any accidental run-ins with teachers by avoiding the adjoining office which was an almost carbon copy of his room. No student would be thought brave enough to come to a teacher at night through the door only used by the teachers themselves. He skidded to a halt outside the door and took a calming breath, trying to keep himself from hyperventilating. His heart was thudding painfully in his chest when he calmed down.

He reached slowly for the doorknob, afraid of what he would find, but his fingers came into contact with a barrier. Harry frantically searched for an opening or flaw in the wall but found none. He had to know. That was all there was to it. In reckless desperation he rammed his shoulder against the barrier and it repelled him with such force that he hit the opposite wall of the hallway, his cloak still covering him. A sudden, muffled sound came from behind the door, despite the silencing charm that was up, and it shook as something threw itself against it.

Harry cursed. Lupin knew better than to attract attention to himself. Something was wrong. Harry tensed as a sudden chill swept over him. He stilled and slowly turned around. He almost yelled in shock. Albus Dumbledore was standing beside him, only mere inches away. He strode forward and started examining the door, his long fingers running its length a few times. He sighed and looked over at Harry who stood frozen, still under the invisibility cloak. "Some would call it stupidity, some foolishness. No matter which, it still warrants an explanation." With a small flick of Dumbledore's wand, Harry's cloak flew into the air and folded neatly over Dumbledore's arm. Harry stared at his Professor with slight apprehension as he was thoroughly examined by the twinkling eyes. "Ah, Mr. Times, I must say this is not an extreme shock to me, though I was expecting someone else."

"My father, you mean?" Harry asked, crossing his arms.

"Yes, actually. But, I believe you informed me that, unlike him, you did not go looking for trouble. However, that doesn't seem to be the truth as you are standing before me now."

"It is never intentional when I get into trouble, sir. Unlike my father, I do not normally have the foresight to plan my little trips."

"And your father does, apparently, as he is rarely caught out of bounds. I take it that you, however, are frequently found out."

Harry shrugged. "That depends on what you mean by frequently. And, yes, my father thoroughly plans his outings. I, however, am less cautious and more…rash, despite the fact that I should have it drilled into me that caution is life-saving. For instance, we could have avoided this entire conversation had I not failed to take extra precautions tonight where I usually would have."

"Well then, let us assume you had taken the extra precautions. What was your destination, Harry?"

Harry floundered for a moment. "I was on a…business excursion, you could say."

"To Professor Century's?"

"Yes, sir."

"And, I suppose," a woman's voice entered, making Harry curse under his breath, "a business excursion could not wait until hours when your Professor would actually be awake, and able to pass as one of the living?" Minerva McGonagall turned the corner, a grim smile on her face. "Well?" she demanded.

"I believe you will find him very much in the realm of the living, Ma'am. He's a, uh, light sleeper. Drop of a pin, you know."

"Ah, Minerva, I expected to see you here." Dumbledore exclaimed, smiling benignly. "Your rounds have gone smoothly, I hope?"

"They have, and it seems I have located one last student out of bounds." McGonagall placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, her grip like a vice, warning him to stay put. Harry gritted his teeth, willing himself to not shake her off.

"Actually, I would like to hear Harry's story first and then pass judgment, Minerva." Dumbledore gestured to the cloak over his arm. McGonagall blinked in surprise as Dumbledore pressed on. "Since I am sure you would feel left out if I took him to my office, we will discuss this here."

"And why is it you feel inclined to allow him a chance to weasel his way out of this when no other students are given the same possibility?" She snapped, her lack of sleep affecting her mood.

"This is Harry's first offense. Should we not give him a chance to explain himself so that we can decide whether this incident was a misjudgment on his part or on ours? After all, we would not want to punish him if it was a folly of ours."

"But, Albus, you always explain the rules of the castle. There is no way-"

"Professor," Harry interjected, looking over at Dumbledore. "Have you informed Professor McGonagall of my…special status?"

Dumbledore's eyes flashed. "No, I do not believe I have, Harry. You wish to tell her?"

Harry cocked his head to the side slightly. "I believe she is capable of keeping a secret, sir. Don't you?"

"I agree wholeheartedly, Harry."

McGonagall's hand went limp and it slid from Harry's shoulder. "What are you both talking about?"

"My dear, Minerva, Harry here is a very special student. I have simply never found the need to tell you so. Tell me, what do you know about him?"

She looked at him skeptically but complied. "Well, he is one of the brightest students here. He is in Gryffindor. He is a transfer student from…from…"

"Ah, you have found a flaw in my plan. I neglected to tell you many things, including the name of his school, because I felt you did not need it or because I myself do not know." Dumbledore looked back over at Harry. "I believe, Harry, that the question is not whether your professor can keep a secret, but whether you trust her enough to tell her."

Harry frowned. He'd never thought of it like that before. He took a few steps forward and turned around to look at his Professors. McGonagall wore a bewildered expression that almost made him laugh out loud. "Yes, I trust her, sir, but, just to be sure I am not being played as a fool…Professor McGonagall, what is the one spell you cannot manage?"

McGonagall stared at him, flabbergasted, but after a glance at the Headmaster, she answered. "I…the jelly-legs jinx."

Harry nodded, turning again. "And your favorite jam, Professor Dumbledore?"

"Raspberry. Excellent idea, Harry."

"Thank you, sir."

Dumbledore nodded. "Now, would you like to do the honors or shall I?"

"You may, sir."

"Very well." He nodded again, and turned to his confused Deputy Headmistress, the twinkle prominent in his eyes. "Minerva, Harry is not a transfer student. He is a Hogwarts student. Once a Hogwarts student, always a Hogwarts student."

"I don't understand, Albus."

He was playing with her now. Harry rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall, determined to enjoy the show. "Minerva, who would you say is Harry's father?" She gaped at him. "You have met him. Take your time. We are in no hurry."

"I…If I didn't know better, I would say he was a Potter. But that is-"

"Exactly what I wanted to hear, my dear Professor. May I introduce Harry James Potter, son of the notorious James Potter."

McGonagall's mouth fell open and she backed against the wall for support. "But, Albus…Potter is only seventeen and this boy must be at least that age. They must've been born the same year."

Harry smirked, jumping in. "Correction, Professor. I was born in 1981 to a proud Marauder. And, by the way, for your future self's health, file this information away into the back of your mind. I," he motioned to himself, "am fine, all in one piece, as is our friend. Okay?"

McGonagall sputtered. "But, I – my future…but it's '79, there's no way…You aren't suggesting…time travel?"

"I am, actually, as both Harry and Professor Century are proof of that."

"Professor Century as well?" McGonagall shrieked. "And who is he, may I ask? The Prime Minister or Saint Nicholas?"

"Unfortunately, I do not know the answer to that." Dumbledore smiled, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "But now we are finally back on subject. Professor Century is the reason why I am here, and, unless I am mistaken, that is also why young Mr. Potter is up at this hour. Is it not?" Harry nodded, feeling apprehensive now that the attention had been brought back to Lupin. "Then, without further ado, let us pay a late visit to Professor Century."

Dumbledore waved his wand over the door and with a small click, the door swung open.

The room was exactly as Harry had seen in his dream, all the way down to the paper-strewn desk, except the bed linens were now torn into a million pieces. The werewolf was sitting in the middle of the slashed mattress. It looked up, confused for spilt second, then leapt down to the floor. It barred its fangs and slowly inched toward the door, a feral gleam taking over its eyes. Lupin gave a loud bark, startling Harry back into reality, and began sprinting to the door. Harry, not giving himself any time to analyze the situation, grabbed the door and went to slam it shut, but the werewolf stuck its arm out the door and grabbed onto Harry. Its claws slashed through Harry's arm as he jerked away and shoved the door closed on Lupin's limb. The werewolf withdrew it with a whine.

The door shuddered and bucked under Harry as Lupin rammed it hard enough to make Harry's feet slide across the floor. Harry quickly searched for his wand and groaned when he realized he'd left it in his room. Praying his strength wouldn't be zapped by something as small as a locking spell, he placed a hand on the doorknob. It clicked loudly as the lock snapped into place and Harry scrambled to his feet. He replaced the barriers around the door and leaned against it, trying to catch his breath, ignoring the throbbing in his arm.

His Professors were both staring at him. Professor McGonagall staggered slightly as feeling returned to her limbs. She clutched Dumbledore's arm to keep from falling. "That…that was-was-was that…?"

Dumbledore patted her hand soothingly. "Don't be alarmed. It is Halloween, Minerva. I expect it could be a harmless prank."

"You know very well that this is not a prank! You, of all people should be able to tell, Albus."

"Alas, I believe you are right. Harry, is this the engagement you told me Professor Century had scheduled when I gave the Marauders their detention with him?" Dumbledore's gaze seemed to pin Harry to the spot.

"I…" Harry looked away, unable to stand the curious looks. "Perhaps."

McGonagall gasped. "You mean that…that was Professor Century?"

"I believe it was, Minerva."

She gaped for a moment before recovering, clearing her throat. "Well, that certainly explains why he was so snippy today. He and Remus Lupin got into an argument over something trivial at lunch. I think it was the consistency of the pie or something to that effect. I wasn't really listening."

Harry felt his mouth twitch slightly as he fought a smile and looked away. Dumbledore looked over at Harry, who was shuffling his feet. Dumbledore smiled serenely. "Harry, I have nothing against werewolves. And as such, I will not sack JR Century, especially since you need him here. I would like you to tell me his name, so that I may approach him with, perhaps, a bit more of an understanding."

Harry winced as the door bucked again. "I can't, sir."

"And why can't you?" demanded McGonagall, immediately taking on a defensive stance, her shoulders squaring and her hands finding a place on her hips. "If he got out he could hurt someone or-"

"He has everything under control, Professor." Harry interjected, his anger flaring at her audacity. "Had Dumbledore not undone Professor Century's barriers, that werewolf would never have known there was another side to this door, making him virtually harmless."

"I only wish to help, Harry. I shall do nothing to harm him." Dumbledore reached out to touch the barriers over the door again. He frowned slightly and turned to Harry, looking him over carefully, his eyes curious once again.

Harry ignored the obvious question. "I know that full well, Professor, as you hire him in the future."

"Then you also know that I can arrange something for him every full moon, something much safer for everyone, where he can be more comfortable."

"I don't think leaving him with Remus would be your brightest plan, Headmaster!" Harry seethed. A ringing silence fell as the words sunk in and Harry groaned inwardly.

"You know about Remus?" Dumbledore asked, his voice carrying a slight hint of surprise.

"Of course. He's one of my father's best friends. Why should I not know?" Harry snapped, angrier at himself than with Dumbledore.

"Because, Mr. Potter and his friends should not know about Mr. Lupin's condition, nor should anyone else!" McGonagall waved her hands frantically, her face flushed.

"You must have known they would find out eventually, Minerva. Apparently, it only brought them closer together as Mr. Lupin has not been excommunicated nor have we received three requests for dorm reassignments. I believe Mr. Lupin has also become more of an extrovert since his friends have discovered his secret. It seems only good things have stemmed from their knowledge of it." Harry smirked. "Now, Harry, again I ask you, will you tell me who Professor Century is exactly? It would help me gain his trust so I can help him."

"You already have his trust, and I refuse to break his by telling you his real name. He wouldn't have created an alias unless it was necessary." Harry pushed away from the door and brushed himself off. "Now, if you will excuse me, sir, I would like to get some sleep. So, I bid you goodnight, Professors." He bowed slightly.

"Of course, Harry. We will talk later. Here you are." Dumbledore handed Harry his invisibility cloak. Harry thanked him, put it on, and left the Professors to talk as he steeled himself for a long night.

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"Are you sure you've had enough rest, Remus? You look dead on your feet. Maybe you should go back to the dorm."

"Leave him alone, Peter. He'll be fine. I'm not so sure about Harry here." James elbowed Harry gently. Harry grimaced and reflexively grabbed his upper arm, massaging it gently. The Marauders shared a befuddled look.

"Harry, are you alright?" Remus swatted Sirius's hands away from his plate as he spoke. "Get your own!"

"I'm fine." Harry mumbled, watching as Sirius tried again to swipe some of Remus's toast and was pushed none too gently off the bench by one very annoyed Remus.

"Yeah, right," Sirius grumbled, annoyed by them both.

"Your face is hovering inches above your cereal," Remus pointed out, his voice hoarse.

"You are trying to eat said cereal with a knife." James pried the knife from his hand and gave him a spoon instead.

"And you're still holding onto your arm." Peter poked Harry's arm again. Harry winced.

"Not to mention we found him in the common room with Professor Century's book across his knees. Devoted much?" Sirius asked as he got up from the floor, giving up on Remus and taking James's scone instead.

Harry stood up from the table, determined to start walking before he fell asleep. "I'm fine. Let's get to class."

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Even then you frighten me with dreams and terrify me with visions,
-Job 7:14