Chapter 13: The Flu

Lord Voldemort lay curled against the back of a high-backed armchair. The firelight lay just out of reach, drenching his miniature figure in darkness. One could hear the tongue flicks of Nagini. Initially, Lord Voldemort had intended to create another Horcrux out of his loyal snake, but upon further thought, he understood that such an act would leave him far too weak upon his eventual return. He'd need as much power as possible. He'd need body before splitting his soul one final time.

His current position was an embarrassment to say the least. Though it was satisfying to see the fear course through Lucius's eyes at the mere sound of his voice.

Lucius.

Truthfully, Voldemort did not know how to feel about the mans' actions. Yes, he had cast aside a precious artifact, a portion of his own soul, to ridicule a workplace enemy, but he had done much more than that.

The fate of the diary lay in uncertainty. The artifact may not have been destroyed, but it was clear that the item in question was out of the girl's mind. Which should not be possible.

The girl.

For so long it had been only the Potter brat that had caused problems for him. Ginny Weasley was now another distraction. He had read between the lines of the article published in the Daily Prophet. He knew how the diary should have functioned. The fact that it had taken so long for the girl to have been taken down to the Chamber was astounding. Though it was very possible that she had not written in it enough, it was still a chance. Voldemort was exasperated as his thoughts constantly fired around in a whirlwind. It was possible that she had thrown off the Diary, but it was also possible that she had simply not written in it. But then again, the compulsion charms to force the user to write were quite strong. Only a powerful witch or wizard could have thrown them off. Too many possibilities, all with half-formed implausible excuses.

And much how thirteen years ago, Voldemort had gone to eliminate a possibility, he would have to do so again.

He'd need Potter's blood. It had to be taken from a live host and deposited in the resurrection potion within a minute of being drawn. Only, the potion would not be ready until June. The beginnings of a plan began to form at the forefront of his mind. Yes. It might just work.

'Bartemius!' he could hear the shuffling behind his chair as the man in question came forward. Piercing blue eyes staring at the spot where he knew his master sat. He bowed before his master. 'Summon Wormtail for me. There's been a change in the plan.'

Barty Crouch Jr. Looked up from his toes. 'My Lord, I do not believe it to be a wise decision to allow Wormtail to complete this task. It will take an incredibly powerful wizard to produce the results you require!' he paused and licked his lips. 'My Lord… I-I can do it. I am strong enough. Please, this tournament is of my father's design. I am sure that I would know how to deconstruct it.'

'Silence.' Voldemort said in a commanding whisper. It was all he could manage in his frail state. 'Wormtail can hide, you are a man long thought to be dead. Your father will know of your disappearance. You must understand that if I were to send you to Hogwarts, it would be a disaster.'

Barty Crouch Jr. sighed and ran a hand through his straw-coloured hair in frustration. He knew he could do this. But he had one last play to make. 'The boy has a map, my Lord. Wormtail refused to tell you this… but I… I wormed it out of him.' he chuckled nervously at his own joke before his face hardened. 'It displays every name that enters the castle. The boy will find Pettigrew, I'm sure of it.'

Voldemort hummed quietly as he pondered this additional complication. 'Even under his Animagus form?'

Barty nodded. 'Yes, my Lord. That is how the brat, and his friends discovered the rat.' he paused as though deciding whether or not his next thoughts were the right course of action. 'I still believe it to be reckless to allow his friends to go free. I know you have said they are no threat but…'

Voldemort raised a weak hand to silence him. 'I understand your concerns, Bartemius.' Barty cringed at the name. This brought Voldemort great pleasure. 'But I know more than you can possibly imagine. Believe me when I say that Potter's friends are of no threat to me. They are all schoolchildren. Potter… and the Weasley girl… there is something about them. And I intend to discover what makes them special.' he lowered his hand, the strength required to move in such a way was still too much to bear. Killing the muggle in August was quite the trial, he was still weak from that reckless mistake. 'Few can resist me, Bartemius, I shall get to the bottom of this matter personally. Now, if what you say off Wormtail's situation is true, then tell me, why are you fit for the job.'

Barty grinned. His eyes alight with the prospect of what he had in mind. 'Loathe though I am to admit it, I share the same name as my father. So, the map will not be of concern. I know my father, I understand him. He will have good reason to be around the cup, and according to Jorkins, he is to be a judge for the event. I don't even have to be there for the whole year, I only need an invisibility cloak and some time. One night at most. I can fool my father's runic array; I can complete this favour. For you, my Lord.'

Voldemort tented his fingers. 'And this plot of yours, it is not simply for revenge against your father? To further discredit him?'

Barty bit the inside of his cheek and smirked. 'That, my Lord, is only a bonus.'

Voldemort nodded his head slowly. The boy had brought up an excellent series of points. Yes. It was better this way. Agreeing to the plan, he explained the modification. At first, Barty was surprised, but he too saw the genius of the plan. Now, Voldemort just had to trust that Potter would get through the tasks relatively unharmed. If luck continued to play its hand, there was a good chance that by the time the potion was ready, the plan would have run its course.

Draco Malfoy, pale and frowning, made his way to the Defense classroom. It was early morning on the twelfth of September and Draco was here to do something he had never done before.

Ask the half-breed for help.

Not in anything major, of course. He just needed clarification on some minor hexes and their properties. He could not believe that the school still had a bloody werewolf walking through its halls. Draco was not the least bit surprised that no one had deduced the Professor's condition after last year. The school was a sock drawer of dunderheads and mudbloods.

Although Granger had figured it out at the same time as he.

If someone would have asked, Draco could not have given an answer as to why he had yet to tell anyone of Lupin's secret. Much like how he hadn't spread information on Granger's time-turner during their third year. Draco was not an idiot, far from it. He was incredibly perceptive, and he understood the Wizarding World well. It helped that his father had always given him more information than the rest, but still, some of that talent was all his own.

As the corridors wound by in a numbed sort of unimportance, Draco's thoughts turned to his father. Locked up in Azkaban because of Potter.

Though was it truly Potter's fault? His father was the one, in the end, who had given the Weaslette the Diary. Loathe though he was to admit it, Potter had treated him and his mother with a kindness that would never have been reciprocated. Draco was genuinely dumbfounded as to why Potter had personally taken on the role of funding for Draco's truly excessive trust vault.

The fact that Potter could fund such a thing alone without blinking was not lost on him either. Even for his father, Draco's trust had been a rather hefty expense. Either Potter was truly overestimating his wealth, or the Malfoy's were simply not as wealthy as the public – And Draco - were led to believe.

He rounded the final corner and stopped abruptly at the classroom door. He knew that Lupin would be there, as he advertised at the end of every lesson. 'If you ever need any help with anything at all, just come to my classroom on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings.'

Yes, it was possible for other people to come down early, especially considering the fact that there were some girls in the older years who were convinced that the half-breed was attractive. It made Draco want to vomit. The thought of someone wanting to snog the filth, let alone breed with one. Shuddering slightly, he took a cautious step to the door. He really didn't want to be seen; it was why he had chosen the least popular day to arrive early. He'd watched and listened to people's school habits to figure out which morning he was least likely to be seen needing help. Crabbe and Goyle were paying Draco no mind now that his father was imprisoned, and the bulk of the money gone. Draco had nothing to rule over the rest of the house common room anymore. Luckily, he wasn't being shamed for it. He was just being ignored by everyone. In the silence and loneliness that his life had become, Draco had begun people-watching. More so than he already had been.

He had finally made it to the door when he heard the sound of gagging. 'What the hell?' deciding to wait for voices, he remained in place.

'It's vile. Rancid. I hate it.'

That voice was Potter's, Draco was sure of that.

'Rancid, Harry? That's a big word, you sure you know what it means?'

And that was Lupin. Lupin taking the mickey out of Potter? As if they were old friends? He held his breath as he waited for more second-hand information.

'Do I seriously have to take this for the rest of my life?' said Harry, he sounded as though something was pinching his nostrils, likely his own fingers.

'Yes, Harry. Every day leading up to it. Every month, for the rest of your life. Unless you want to endanger the people around you, I suggest you drink the rest.'

Malfoy's eyes widened. Could it be? Could Potter have been infected? Or was he always a werewolf. No, that didn't fit. This was a recent development. Perhaps Lupin was raising an army, and Potter was his first victim. Pulling on the strap of his bag, he turned and ran as quietly as he could manage back the way he came, so as not to alert them to his presence. Then again, he'd read last year that werewolves experienced heightened senses even in their human from, so they had likely already heard or smelled him. It was one of the few things the general Wizarding community knew about werewolves.

By the time he reached Professor Snape's office, his cheeks were flushed, and he was breathing hard. He raised his fist to knock but Snape called him in, as though he knew Draco was there.

Draco bolted to the desk and gulped down the saliva lining his throat. 'Professor, I need… Hang on.' Draco held a finger up to Snape, who raised an eyebrow. Looking down at the floor, Draco wheezed for moment. Merlin he was out of shape. And the lack of a Quidditch season this year would only make things worse. Swallowing again, he looked up to his head of house. 'I think… I think Potter's been infected by Lupin.'

Snape eyed Draco warily for a moment before waving his wand to the door. It shut firmly and Draco heard the faint buzzing of silencing charms. 'And why would you make such an assumption.'

Draco quickly retold the conversation he had overheard. 'So, I think Lupin might be trying to raise an army. You know, a half-breed army to take over the-'

Snape raised a hand to silence his student. His black eyes bored into Draco, who suddenly felt the urge to squirm. 'Draco, I need you to keep this information a secret. Do you understand?'

Draco stared at the man, mouth agape. 'But Professor, surely you agree with me that it's foolish to keep a-a werewolf in a bloody school! I mean, he could contaminate everyone. Hell, he's already done it with Potter!'

Snape laid his hand back down on the desk. 'Let me be very clear. Lupin is a professor. From what I've heard, he performs the job admirably. Now… What happened with Mr. Potter was a series of unfortunate circumstances, but it was a multilayered dilemma. There are precautions in place to prevent such an event from occurring again. Not to mention the wolfsbane potion, which you are well aware of, that generally destroys any and all risk.'

Draco gaped at Snape before clamping his jaw shut and shaking his head. 'If my father-'

'Your precious father is in Azkaban. Like a fool. You would do well to avoid his mistakes.' Snape cut in. 'The world is changing, Draco. Your father no longer controls the Ministry. New laws will be passed, the world will evolve. You must choose whether or not you will evolve with it, or against it.'

'Oh, so you're just going to sit here and allow half-breeds to run around freely? Potter is the bloody Boy Who Lived and he's a werewolf. How long do you think that'll be kept secret?' Draco was fuming. Not only was Snape defending Lupin, but he was telling Draco to go against his father's wishes. 'I know there are some right nitwits in this castle, but someone is going to figure it out.'

Snape stood from his desk, it was not a quick motion, nor was it slow and deliberate. He rose from his seat and walked to the walls of jars that decorated the walls. 'Do you not think it significant that Sirius Black, Harry Potter's godfather, is now working at a high-end position for the department that deals with werewolves? Do you not think it possible that there will be new laws, new legislation, new rules implemented so that Potter's secret, once it eventually is revealed, will be legal? Do you not think Black will do everything to protect his godson?'

Draco threw his arms up in frustration and stood up from his seat. Much more aggressively than Snape had. 'Are you fucking kidding me? We need to put a stop to it! We've still got mum's money, and yours.'

Snape pointed a finger at Draco, and he shut up immediately. 'Godfather or not, I am still your Professor, Draco.' he sighed and dropped his hand. 'You need to understand that your father's ways… they're dying. Your betrothal to Miss Greengrass will be null by the end of the year, I guarantee it.'

Draco felt no particular emotion to this news, but he cocked his head in confusion. 'Why?'

Snape's eyes widened in annoyance. 'Do you not understand? Draco? How many times must I say it? There are different people in charge now. People like Arthur Weasley, Sirius Black, Amelia Bones. These people are going to rebuild this world. Now, as your godfather, as your professor, and as your friend, I am asking you to pick a side.'

Draco stared in disbelief at his potions professor. He had been acting odd ever since Potter showed him up in class on the first day. It was like a switch had been flipped. Snape was by no means kind, far from it. Though his insults were kept to a minimum, he had been regularly giving out points to all four houses equally. His classes were not only being taught but were engaging. He was teaching them potions, and everyone thought it was strange. If that didn't say something about Hogwarts, Draco didn't know what did. 'Pick a side? What, like this is some kind of war?'

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. 'Some wars are not fought by violence. Some are fought by ideology.' he paused to make sure Draco was following. 'Your way of thinking, people like you, are a dying breed, Draco.'

Draco continued to gape at the man. What the fuck had happened to Snape. 'Interesting how you're not including yourself in that statement, Snape. Last I checked, we were on the same page. You and my father were on the same page.'

Snape sat back down. 'And look where that landed him.' he said in a deadly calm voice. 'I am not included in that statement because I have chosen my side.'

Draco's eyes widened in shock. He couldn't find any reason, any way for this to be true. 'And why would you do that. You know we are superior-'

Snape sighed. 'For the last time, it doesn't come down to that. This is survival. Do you understand me? We are not Gryffindors, we are not rash. Slytherin's founding motives are what, Draco, tell me.'

'Cunning and Ambition.'

Snape nodded. 'Exactly, so analyze this situation not in the way you are now. Not in this overreactive vane manner. Pick it apart, Draco, find the holes. You will not survive in a new world if you do not evolve with it. Or at least appear to evolve with it. Do you understand?'

Somewhere, at the back of Draco's mind, realization weas settling in. But that was far buried behind anger and resentment. 'He put my father in Azkaban. You, Snape, are a coward. Hiding your own beliefs to survive a new world. Pathetic.' he spat at Snape. 'Thegodfather I knew wouldn't have given up because of some choice words from a fucking teenager.' and with that, Draco Malfoy would never again come to Severus Snape for guidance.

Harry had never been happier at the news of a flu outbreak within the walls of Hogwarts. His transformation was coming up, and his pale complexion was completely ignored and explained away by the fact that Harry Potter was sick and had been the one to first contract the disease. Ginny had further spread this rumour, even though she herself wasn't sick. It was a most convenient way to explain away Harry's sudden pigment shift. Especially since so many people were once again staring at Harry.

The reason for the staring? Over the last two weeks, Harry Potter had gone from average student to constant standout. In most of his classes. Charms, herbology, and Care of Magical Creatures were still held by Harry Potter's classic fifth time's the charm skill on most of its course material. Save summoning charms, of which Harry was extremely gifted at. Though no one seemed to know why.

Another cause for the attention? Harry Potter was not seen with Hermione Granger, or Ronald Weasley nearly as often as before. Make no mistake, it was not as though they were no longer friends. Far from it. Harry still hung around Ron and Hermione, particularly Ron, quite often. But Hermione was seen alone a lot more than she had been before. Then again, she had been seen in the library, studying without anyone around her all through last year. Many assumed it was just a continuation of that public drifting apart.

None except those involved knew the true story. Hermione was acting extremely coolly towards Harry, and he was finally beginning to understand why. He was beating her in the practical aspects of magic consistently in most of their classes. He had been able to not only help her with Potions but teach her things she never would have known without him. It was in part, fascinating, and on the other hand, infuriating for Hermione. She was not pretentious, she was not jealous, merely frustrated and confused. What was ever more irritating was the fact that Harry simply refused to give a legitimate answer. Harry would always tell her he studied over the summer, or he'd always had this ability but had held himself back. That part of his explanation, she'd believed. But the others could not and would not fit. Something was wrong with Harry, and she was determined to find out what it was. At least, this was what Harry thought was the problem.

More interesting was the fact that Harry would be seen with Ginny Weasley and Colin Creevey nearly as often as he would be seen with Ron and Hermione. The upcoming tournament was being discussed constantly, but Harry Potter, his mysterious new look and his spontaneous success were discussed just as reverently.

Half of the school was in the hospital wing or hidden away in their dormitories. The full moon was Monday the nineteenth, and Harry was praying that this convenient flu would stick around just a few more days.

It was raining when Harry woke up. His body was sore, but his mind was active like he'd downed three cups of coffee. Which was not something Harry had ever done, he just figured it fit his current situation.

The full moon was that night, and due to the school-wide quarantine, heavily mandated by a stern-faced Professor McGonagall, was coming to a close on Wednesday. Harry and Remus both had joked around over how handy this was for them. Realistically, it only bought Harry a month before Hermione would put the pieces together, but there was a strong chance that the Animagus excuse could last.

He would have told her by now but ever since her change in demeanour, he'd soured to the idea. It all came down to trust, and he didn't know whether or not he could trust Hermione at the moment.

Harry was once again struck by the simple thought of why he was keeping this from his friends. It had felt good to tell Ginny, though the situation was quite different. He could tell Ginny things that he wouldn't tell anyone else. She had lived through a nightmare, perhaps more, it all depended on what she'd seen from the Diary. Something Harry both desperately wanted to know more about but knew that the time would come for her to be comfortable sharing her experience with him. Judging by what she'd said in Diagon Alley, she'd only just begun to break apart the barrier she'd put around her mind to once again witness the horrors of her first year. If she herself was not comfortable with the events yet, Harry wouldn't push.

There were strict rules around who could leave the dormitories. The teachers had all been informed to send one owl out to each dormitory with a lesson plan and instructions on how to study while they could not go to class. Some courses, like potions, simply couldn't be completed in the same way, but the theory was important, so Snape had assigned reading.

Lupin, as per usual, had been the most fun. He'd included little drawings on each of his letters and had essentially tasked the students to hex each other and record the results. 'You learn best by doing.' Was how he'd sign off on each of his letters. The Gryffindor boys had all grown a little closer as a result.

McGonagall had been impressed with Harry and he'd often catch her smiling at him with a distant look on her face. As though remembering a different Potter excelling in her classroom. Through quarantined classes, however, he did not get such looks. Just an impersonal letter detailing the practice she wished them to accomplish.

Ron had taken Harry's newfound focus on school rather well. In fact, Hermione was stunned when she walked in on not just Harry, but Ron actively writing their own essays during lunch. Ron, skipping out on food to finish homework that had been assigned the previous period. Hermione had even offered to look it over for them and had been most impressed with Ron's work. She'd been eyeing him a little differently since then. Though not in a good way.

Ron and Harry had busied themselves by experimenting with spells they had never heard of from a particularly handy book Harry had brought from Potter Manor that was not exactly curricular.

Many of them had notes from the Marauder's. Needless to say, the fourth year Gryffindor dormitory ended most nights with its occupants collapsed on their own beds in laughter at the result of one of the spells from the book. It had no title, no signature. Just handwritten notes from what Harry had assumed must have been Remus, as it matched their teacher's letters closely.

Harry stretched as he thought back on the past two weeks. Smiling to himself at the memory of the previous night's events, he got out of bed and dressed for the day. His first day out of the convenient quarantine was not an exciting affair.

'Remember, leave a note explaining where you are.'

'Thanks, mum, I would've forgotten.' Harry carefully wrote out a letter explaining that he had special permission to leave the room to help Remus and to tell the others that he was just sick enough for the hospital wing. He left the note on Ron's nightstand and silently prayed that he'd actually see the letter.

Quietly, Harry padded to the door, still in his socks so as to avoid the sound of shoes on the hardwood. He opened the door quietly and shut it behind him. Step by step he strolled down to the deserted common room.

Only it wasn't deserted.

A sole figure sat in front of the dead and empty fireplace. Her red hair, flecked with gold, hung limp against her face. Harry couldn't tell if Ginny was asleep or not. He stopped trying to dampen the sound of his footsteps so as to announce his presence. Her head shot up and turned to face him. She squinted, the sides of her eyes crinkling and her jaw tightening. Harry smiled stupidly at her for a moment before sitting down next to her.

'What brings you here.' he asked after a long silence.

She sighed and looked away from him and back into the dead fireplace. 'Thought I'd see you off. It's four in the afternoon, you know.' Harry frowned. Everyone was asleep in his dormitory, how the hell had no one woken up yet?

'Erm… why is no one up then?'

Ginny frowned. 'Dunno. Everyone in my dormitory is awake. They all tried to get me not to leave the room.'

Harry decided to shove this question aside for later. 'Why are you down here?'

Ginny blushed slightly, though not as noticeably as usual. 'I thought I'd see you off.' she said quietly. 'You know, before… well yeah.'

It was now Harry's turn to blush, though he did not know why. 'Thanks, Ginny.' he said quietly. 'I should probably go.'

Ginny nodded, sighing slightly. 'Be careful?' she asked him.

Harry smiled wryly. 'Always.'

Ginny snorted as Harry left the common room. She looked down at the book that lay concealed beneath her knees. Advanced Transfiguration of the Self. Becoming and Animagus was a lot harder than she had previously expected.

Harry ran down to the Whomping Willow. He was greeted by Remus, Professor McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey. 'Hello!' Harry greeted much too cheerfully. McGonagall smiled sadly at him and patted his shoulder.

'Good afternoon, Mr. Potter. I was expecting you an hour ago. Remember that in the later months, you'll want to be here a bit earlier because night falls sooner.' Harry nodded to the matron and turned a quizzical eye to McGonagall. She seemed to understand his silent question.

'A light sleeping powder was administered through your dormmates' food last evening. They shouldn't wake until tomorrow morning.' she explained quickly.

Harry once again nodded and turned to Remus. 'Time for my first Marauder's adventure, eh Moony?'

Remus blushed and ran a hand over the back of his neck. 'Don't think you're supposed to talk about that, Harry.'

McGonagall gave Remus a reproachful look but didn't comment. Harry suspected that would be a conversation for the staffroom at a later date. Remus quickly levitated a branch and prodded the knot at the base of the tree before ducking into the hole. Harry followed and with one final look towards the two staff before he couldn't see behind him anymore. 'So… Is Sirius coming?' Harry asked hopefully. 'I didn't get a letter or anything, so I figured he'd just… show up.'

Remus shook his head and shot Harry an apologetic look. 'Full moon's on a Monday. Usually, he'd take the day off but because of the tournament… well, his department is all hands on deck.'

Harry sighed. 'It's not like I'm in the bloody tournament. Why can't you tell me?'

Remus chuckled. 'Part of the fun is guessing what the champions have to face. Trust me, it's well worth the surprise.' he paused as if pondering whether or not to reveal the following bit of information. 'If Sirius hadn't told me, I wouldn't even know what the tasks are. Only Dumbledore, the heads of houses, and Pomfrey know the details.'

Harry smirked. 'I wonder what else you and Padfoot get up to when you disappear on Sundays.'

Remus glared at Harry before reaching up and opening the trapdoor. He helped Harry into the shrieking shack and they both meandered on over to what might have been a sitting room at one point. 'I don't understand this building. I mean, why is there furniture if it's meant to house monsters? Seems like a waste of galleons to me.' said Harry as he rubbed decades worth of dust off a small coffee table.

'Well, at one point we'd tried to turn this into a hideout. Then we realized that I'd destroy it every time I transformed. Your dad never gave up though.' Remus began to laugh. 'He'd always come in the weekend before the full moon and enlarge a load of furniture he'd bought. I'm pretty sure most of it is around here somewhere. But he'd redecorate the shack before each of our adventures. It was bloody hilarious to wake up the next day to a newly destroyed room and James smiling as if I hadn't just wasted hundreds of galleons.'

Harry laughed along with Remus. Thinking about his father. Thoughts of his father brought him around to think of his mother, who had been uncharacteristically quiet as of late.

Ever since Harry's confrontation with Snape, she'd been almost cold to Harry. Not that she wasn't kind or anything, no, it was more the fact that she just didn't talk! No matter how hard Harry tried to get her to come out of the strange shell she'd made for herself, she wouldn't really engage in much conversation. This bothered Harry but he figured Snape must have said something incredibly cruel or else she wouldn't have boxed up. This only made Harry resent Snape even more. From the glimpses he'd gotten of his mother's memories over his last two transformations, Snape had been a truly great friend to his mother, only to have betrayed her. Well, betrayed was a bit inaccurate. Chose the wrong side was more like it. Still, Harry couldn't imagine what Snape could have said that had hurt his mum the way it clearly had. Harry was determined to corner her tonight in his mindscape and get her to explain.

Harry paused his thoughts for a moment. She was his mother. Could he really just force her to tell him things? Was that something kids did to their parents? Well, it's not like she was helping herself here, so Harry was just going to help her. He needed to hear what Snape did.

'Knut for your thoughts?' Remus asked, sitting himself in the crumpled remains of an armchair.

Harry walked over to a boarded-up window, orange light streaming in from the cracks. 'On the first day, in potions, mum brought Snape into her mind.' he turned to look at Remus to gauge a reaction. Remus's eyebrows were put together, but other than that he seemed fine. 'Right, well, ever since then she's been really quiet. She'll remind me to do homework and tell me I did a good job on something. But… she doesn't talk. She also hasn't been coming up with dreams for me. Usually, she does this thing where I'll have a Quidditch dream, or a dream about her memories of dad or something… but my dreams just haven't happened. She's shut them off. My brain isn't even coming up with anything. Honestly, Moony, it's weird.' Harry wrung his hands and frowned; concern etched across his face. 'I've gotten so used to her being around all the time, but I just don't know what's wrong. What did Snape say to her!'

Remus leaned on his elbows and laced his fingers together. 'I don't know if it was something Snape did. Maybe just bad memories clouding her mind. She'll clear up, I'm sure. But… Maybe you can ask her tonight? In your mindscape?'

Harry nodded. 'Yeah, that's what I was going to do. See, she's not even commenting on the things I'm thinking or saying right now. You'd think she'd lie to reassure me. But she's just quiet.' he waited for a mental response from his mother, but none came. Harry sighed and looked to the floor. Immature as it was, he really liked his mum's presence. She had become a constant in a life that refused to remain consistent. He'd learned that he'd lived with a piece of Voldemort's soul his whole life, discovered that he was destined to kill the man, learned that Dumbledore truly was not a flawless icon, had become a bloody werewolf, and yet his mum had been there through it all. She'd calmed him, supported him, it was really nice. But now… now it felt like there was a hole in Harry's mind.

They passed the remaining hours until the full moon in relative silence. About an hour before, Remus asked Harry if he'd had his last dose of potion, to which he nodded and told him that 'Yes, Moony, I'm not as thick as you might think.' to which Remus only frowned and said that mistakes can happen. Harry had the decency to look apologetic. Remus had still not, and likely never would, forgive himself for biting Harry.

Fifteen minutes before the transformation Harry decided to ask Remus a question that had been weighing on his mind for a while. 'Remus, have you noticed anything strange with me and Hermione.'

Remus looked up from his hands, the thing he had been staring at for nearly three hours. 'No, not really. I'd say she's been acting standoffish with you and Ron, but I can't be certain.'

Harry nodded. 'That's the thing. At first, it was only me, but then Ron started trying in school to make sure he wasn't behind me in everything and now she's treating him funny too.' Harry paused. Were his suspicions truly worth telling Remus about? Well, that was a stupid question, of course they were. Remus had proved over the summer that he would be there for Harry. 'It's almost as if she's irritated that we're all on the same playing field.'

Remus nodded slowly, a slight smirk tracing his features. 'You're not exactly on the same playing field, Harry. Practically, you and Ron are top of defense. Which is sort of extraordinary considering the fact that last year it was Hermione, then you, then Daphne Greengrass…' he trailed off for a moment. 'I must say I am pleased with the effect your focus on school has had on Ron. Even your dormmates, Neville, Dean, and Seamus have gotten better. You influence people, I hope you know that.'

Harry snorted but Remus shook his head. 'No, really, Harry. People have gotten used to Harry Potter being pretty average in school. Now, you've shown that anyone, even the average, can be successful. You've only proven that anyone can do what you're currently doing.' Harry frowned. So, his celebrity status – if you could call it that – was influencing people to do better. Bloody Boy Who Lived bullshit. Remus seemed to read Harry's thoughts. 'Harry, sometimes fame isn't all bad. You've inspired your year to do better. You should be happy.'

Harry gave a half-hearted shrug. Remus, knowing this was the best he was going to get, continued. 'As for Hermione, I think she's just a little confused. She's gotten used to her spot at the top. You've challenged her on that and it's sort of out of nowhere. Not only that, but the rest of your year is doing a lot better now too, thanks to your unintentional influence. I'm sure if this had all happened in a few years she'd have handled it better, but at the moment she's confused and frustrated, and she likes being the best.' Harry frowned. That was a stupid reason to treat your friends like rubbish. 'Harry don't frown at what she's doing. It's only natural. She is an extremely talented muggle-born witch who wants to prove herself. Now she feels inadequate.'

'The hell does being muggle-born have to do with it?' Harry snapped.

Remus smiled sympathetically. 'You know I don't think it makes a difference, but she lives in a world in which many people of power believe it does. She's been told that because of her lineage, she is a less than capable witch. All that did was make her want to prove herself. And for the last three years, she has excelled to prove herself. She never had many friends growing up, she's had you two for years and I feel like she likely suspected that without her constant help and reminders, you wouldn't have remained friends with her.'

'That's rubbish!' Harry cried. 'We'd be friends with her either way!'

Remus's eyebrows shot up. 'Would you? Think about it. From what you've told me, you rescued her from a troll, and she became part of you and Ron's little group. Since then, she's helped you with your homework, saved you academically three years in a row, and has continued to do so because…' Remus trailed off to see if Harry could piece it together himself.

Harry's mouth dropped open for a moment before he scowled. 'Because she felt the need to prove herself worthy of our friendship.' Harry sighed and ran a hand through his long hair. 'We've used her… haven't we.'

Remus smiled sadly. 'It's something James and Sirius realized pretty early on with me. Second year, I think. They stopped right then and there and made me feel like I was always a part of the group.'

Harry groaned and flopped against the wall. 'I'm such a prat… fuck, me and Ron are both such prats.'

Remus only laughed. 'Some friendships fizzle out, and that's just how it has to be.'

Harry shook his head. 'No, Remus, you don't get it. We've saved the world together. She helped save Ginny! She saved Sirius, Moony!'

Remus sighed. 'I understand that Harry… but some wounds are too deep to heal.'

Harry frowned. 'What?'

'Look at it this way… in the Marauder's I was very much the Hermione type.' at Harry's nod he continued. 'If it were me, I'd be feeling pretty used right now. Knowing that both of my best friends have had it in them the whole time but hadn't bothered trying. I'd feel as though my friends lied to me. Like they didn't trust me, or rather, didn't care about me any more than just a homework tool. And now they're done using me and don't need me anymore. I reckon it's fair to say that you haven't been talking to her nearly as much as usual?'

Harry thought back to the past few weeks, hell, the whole summer. He really hadn't interacted with Hermione very much. It was true that during the summer he'd only written to Ginny, but even when they were all over at Potter manor countless times, Harry had barely talked to Hermione. And now, even though he'd like to blame his distance from her on the fact that she herself wasn't doing much with him, he'd have to admit that a lot of the distance was his own subconscious actions. Harry sighed deeply, hanging his head. 'Do you think it's too late?'

Remus looked thoughtful for a moment. 'No, I don't think it is.' he said finally. 'Though I also don't think it'll ever be the same.'

Harry nodded his understanding before a shock like being struck by lightning ran through his system. 'Fuck.' Harry said as the beginnings of the pains of the transformation settled in. Remus stumbled over to a different room while Harry began to convulse on the floor. His arms snapped to his sides, and he screamed. He screamed until his throat was raw, but he remained conscious. The pain was unbearable, then, he felt the familiar pull behind the navel as he watched the strange abyss with the two orbs. 'My magical cores. Plural.' Harry thought to himself before he was wrapped up inside his mindscape.

He emerged in a clearing, or rather, a field. No, that wasn't it either. He could hear the sea crash against distant cliffs, the sun was low on the horizon, touching the water in the distance. Then, a figure caught his attention. It was his mother, sitting on a rock. Her back facing him. He quietly walked up to her and eventually stood beside her, taking in her appearance.

She was beautiful, as always. But there was a change in her appearance. She looked tired. So incredibly tired.

'Mum?' Harry said tentatively. He laid a delicate hand on her shoulder, shaking her slightly. He had an irrational fear settle in the pit of his stomach. What if she was somehow dying? What if he'd lose her again?

'I am not dying, Harry.' she said, quietly. The wind was delicate, but it had enough force to let her and Harry's hair billow behind them. 'I am sorry that I haven't been here for you… I've had… adult things, on my mind, I suppose.'

Harry frowned sympathetically. 'You live in my head, mum. I feel like I might deserve to know what's got you so upset.'

Lily smiled slightly and turned to face her son. Her smile grew a bit at the sight of him. 'You're very handsome you know.'

Harry smiled and shook his head in mock disbelief. 'I think I get it from Sirius.'

Lily laughed then, the first he'd heard her laugh since the first day of classes. 'Mmhmm, I'm sure.'

Harry sat on the rock beside her, and she pulled him into a one-armed embrace. 'I suppose you do deserve to understand.'

Harry waited for her to continue but when she didn't, he fully inspected his surroundings. 'Where are we exactly?'

'The White Cliffs of Dover.' she replied. Her voice touched with sadness. 'As I am sure you know, me and Severus were quite close growing up. There was never, and I mean never anything romantic between us, but I suppose that was just how I saw it.' she paused and closed her eyes, letting the wind blow through her hair. Harry was revolted at the thought of Snape ever having fancied his own mum but decided to let it go for now. 'I didn't know this, of course. James always suspected but I persisted in saying that Sev would never feel that way.

'I pulled him into my mind the other day… I was quite honest with him. I told him that he meant nothing to me, not anymore. But I learned something that day, Harry.'

Harry looked at his mum's side profile and waited. 'You see, Severus made an agreement… He swore to protect you even when Voldemort was gone.' Harry couldn't believe what he was being told. Snape had hated him. Lily, being able to hear Harry's thoughts, nodded. 'That's what I told him. I told him how ridiculous it was that James could forgive a childhood rivalry, but he couldn't even after all these years. I told him to treat the Houses equally, to stop promoting blood purity.' she sighed and wiped her finger at a stray tear that had begun forming in the corner of her eye. 'I've watched through you as he's gone ahead and done it. I won't ever forgive how he's treated you, how he'd failed to act for all those years that you were locked away with my sister.' she spat the final word with a venom Harry had never heard from her before. 'I told him he could never redeem himself… I just feel like I was a bit harsh.'

Harry looked out to the sea, deep in thought. He couldn't believe that there wasn't more to this story than what she was telling him. But he understood better than most that some things just had to be sorted out on your own. 'I don't think he can ever be redeemed… And I know I don't have the full story about you and him… I'm sure I can never fully understand your friendship or how his… choices affected you.' Harry paused and reached up with his left hand to grab hold of his mother's fingers that lay on his right shoulder. 'But you've given him a chance to change. Or at least make a few right decisions. We both know Voldemort is coming back… who knows, maybe what you've said to him will further cement him onto our side.'

Lily smiled sadly and looked down at her hands. With a start, Harry realized that he had her fingers. Skinny and boney. Not in an unattractive way, it was just noticeable. Her wedding band glistened in the setting sun, which had not moved since Harry got here. 'You remind me so much of your father sometimes… I always blame myself; you know…' Harry chuckled ruefully. Yeah, he knew a thing or two about blaming oneself. He still felt it was his lack of attention given to Ginny that led her to trust the Diary. Lily, hearing his thoughts, turned to him and rolled her eyes through her tears. 'Well, I suppose you have both me and James in you then. Blaming yourself for everything like me but being able to pull people out of their funk like your father.'

Harry only smiled. Turning away from his mum and back out to the sea. 'I've missed you, mum.' he squeezed her hand. Reveling in the warmth that spread through him when his mother held him. 'I like hearing your voice… I haven't ever had it. I only had what I hear with the dementors. Just… please don't block me out again. At least give me a reason why.'

Lily nodded and bowed her head. 'I'm sorry, Harry.' nothing else had to be said. There was nothing more to add. Harry only nodded and looked back out to the sea again. After a long while, Lily eventually said, 'And with the whole Hermione situation; I agree with Remus.'

Harry smiled sadly and shrugged half-heartedly. 'I've been a git, and now I have to pay for it. Though I suppose I deserve it. I have been using her. Me and Ron.'

They remained quiet, sitting side by side, mother and son for hours. Eventually, Lily stood up. 'I think, if we want to avoid what happened last time, you should recede into your wolf body. I know you love spending time with me, but you love it a little too much.' she smiled sadly at him when Harry followed her by standing up from the rock and stretching. 'You like it here, to be stuck inside your own head with no repercussions.'

Harry smiled shyly and rubbed the back of his neck. 'Yeah, I mean… I don't know. It's safe here.'

Lily nodded and cocked her head to the side. 'But it isn't real. It's all happening inside your head.'

Harry grinned mischievously. 'And why should that mean it's not real?'

Lily laughed and let her head fall back. 'Sounds like something Dumbledore would say.' she paused before laying a hand on his shoulder. 'Still, you know I'm right.'

Harry rolled his eyes but leaned into her, wrapping his arms around her. Harry was taller than Lily, but he still felt small. Like a child. He didn't mind though, not really. This was something he had missed out on for nearly thirteen years, he wasn't going to take anything for granted. As she held him, she spoke softly into his ear. She had to crane her neck to be able to reach it. 'Focus on the magic within you. How it feels in your body. Ebbing and flowing like water. Hold onto it, follow it. You'll come to a great ball. Imagine yourself touching it.' Just like that, Harry was sucked out of his mind, and he felt his body once again. Only it was very, very different.

He had four legs. Sure, he'd had four limbs before, but now they were sort of required. His spine was different too. He knew he wouldn't be able to stand on two legs but that thought didn't bother him. He was supposed to be on all fours, after all. Without conscious thought, he got to his feet. He didn't shake, no, he felt incredibly strong. He ambled over to the smell of Remus, who was in a different room. 'Remus?' The words didn't tumble out of his mouth, no, they escaped out of his mind, as if the thought traveled through the air and beyond the door. He heard shuffling and the sound of protruding claws on the wood floors. The door creaked open, and the face of a white wolf peered through.

'Harry?' the white wolf thought back. 'I thought you'd be with your mum all night.'

'Nope. We needed to break the connection early so that I don't end up in a coma again.' Harry started laughing at the thought, but the laughs came out as odd sounds from his mouth. Harry leaned his head back in shock for a moment before breaking down into more laughing barks on the floor. The more his wolf made sounds, the harder Harry would laugh. He didn't know why it was so funny but whenever he'd try to get a grip on the situation, he'd hear either his own or Remus's barks and he'd laugh harder.

After a long while, the sides of what he assumed were his shoulders were sore, so he began panting, lying on the floor. 'Fucking hell Moony this is hilarious.' Harry couldn't help but wonder why he hadn't gone to his wolf from on previous transformations. He really enjoyed his mother's company, but this was so fun!

'It's only funny with the wolfsbane, believe me. Without it, you just watch from a tunnel as the wolf runs around terrorizing everything.' Remus paused. 'Though, I suppose with you you'd just end up in your mindscape with your mum.'

Harry's frowned, at least, he appeared as a very unhappy wolf. 'I don't understand why you can't hang around your own mum. I'm sure you could talk to her about some things.'

Remus's wolf shook its head. Harry had never seen a dog look more miserable. 'I don't think I could.' Harry was about to start again but Remus's thought-messages cut him off. 'I've blocked her out for so long… Harry, I don't even know if she's still there. And even if I wanted to know, I don't think I could break the mental barrier I'd made.'

'Ginny broke through hers. At least, she's started to.' Harry thought back.

'Yes, but that's a block that's been active for what? Two years? A year and a bit? Mine's been up for twenty-nine years. It'll take ages…'

Harry nudged Remus's face with his own snout. 'I don't think it's a power or time thing, Remus… I think it's more your force of will. Do you want to? Do you need to?' Harry paused and sat down. He almost started laughing again at what he must look like, a wolf sitting down before another, eyeing each other sympathetically. 'As to whether or not she's still there, I feel like you would have lost the block if it had changed.'

Remus nodded and curled up on the floor. 'She nearly ruined me, Harry… I only wish that I had someone who was as supportive as Lily-love.' Harry chuckled at the nickname before pawing at a small dust ball on the floor absentmindedly.

'Why is your mother your voice of reason if she hates you?'

Remus's wolf sighed. 'I was bitten when I was four years old, Harry. Who else would it have been? The voice was given to me at the time of my being bitten. I had to trust the person without any shadow of a doubt. I had to believe in them, love them… and they had to do the same. When I was bitten, before she found out, my mother was all of those things and more.' If a wolf could cry, Harry was certain Remus would be. He couldn't describe it, but his thoughts just sounded as though they were being said through tears. As though the voice of Remus's thoughts had a stuffy nose. 'It was after, that she was horrible to me. She left not a year later.'

'Hang on!' Harry mentally cried, his limbs jerking into a firm position. 'That meant that you had a voice of reason while she was alive! So, it isn't only dead people…'

Remus looked thoughtful for a moment. 'I suppose you're right. When she was alive it was more of a mental connection. She could constantly hear my thoughts and I could hear her spoken thoughts. That is to say, I could hear her when she talked, no matter where she was, and she could mentally communicate with me. She would pretty much never say a thing to me. She'd look at me, frightened beyond belief at what her precious boy had become. When she'd say anything, she'd only tell me how disgusted she was with me.'

Harry couldn't believe it, not really. Parents were supposed to support their kids; never leave them unless they had to. 'That's… awful. More than awful. I'd rather my parents died than have to hear that from them.'

'When she'd died, I knew it immediately. She now resided in my head. And she hated it. It was maybe a day or two after she'd left… I still think it was Greyback who got her. Just to punish her for leaving me. Like he wanted not only me to suffer, but my father and mother as well.' again, Remus blew air through his nose, kicking up dust and making Harry sneeze. Once again nearly setting him off on another laughing fit. If the conversation hadn't been so serious, Harry would have. 'So, I quickly, and unconsciously, learned to block her out completely. It made things incredibly difficult. I feel like the voice is there to promote your well-being. Like forcing you to accept who you are and not suffer under your own insecurities. Because I never had that, I sort of… well I suffered. I still do, I suppose.'

They sat in silence for a long while before Harry looked into Remus's yellowed eyes. 'I hope your voice changes, Remus. You deserve to be happy.'

Remus nudged Harry's ears and laid his head on Harry's 'Thanks pup.'

And Harry didn't correct him, he didn't fight the nickname. Because for once, Harry felt that Remus needed to call him some stupid, childish name. And Harry wanted Remus to be happy. Though, Harry was not going to allow it outside of this specific circumstance. Merlin forbid what Sirius would do with that power.

With that thought, the two fell asleep, Remus's head laying on Harry's until the sun rose, and their bodies began to tingle. Remus left to the room he had been in, and Harry went back to the main sitting room. Transforming back was nearly as bad as the initiating one. Though less uncomfortable as Harry could feel with relief, his regular body once again. Harry dressed and waited for Remus to come out. Once he did, Harry opened the trapdoor and led the way back to the castle. Madam Pomfrey was waiting for them on the other end, and Harry walked back to the Gryffindor common room in mental silence.

Draco Malfoy watched as Harry Potter, followed by Ron Weasley entered the Great Hall. This would be the first time in four days that anyone had been outside of their common room. He took into account Potter's pale complexion, and his slight limp. It was evident that the limp wasn't from an injury but was instead an indicator of soreness. Draco narrowed his eyes. Potter was definitely a werewolf.

As everyone got up to leave the Hall, Draco made his way over to Harry. 'Potter, can I speak with you for a moment?'

Ron looked incredulously at Draco, about to say something. 'Probably some ridiculous low-level insult' Draco thought, contemptuously, as though he himself didn't resort to the same thing.

Potter surprised him by saying, 'It's fine, Ron, I'll catch up with you later.' he waved Draco over to a deserted corridor and waited patiently for Draco to begin.

'I know what you are.' Draco said, simply. No smirk or sneer. Straight-faced and to the point.

Potter sighed and ran a hand down his face. 'I'd figured you or Hermione would figure it out the quickest, but I gave Hermione an excuse, and you were outside the door last Monday.' Draco's eyes widened and Potter chuckled humourlessly. 'Yeah, I could smell you, but I thought you weren't listening. Should have thought of that, to be honest.' Potter frowned.

Draco stared incredulously at Harry for a long while. 'The fuck? So, you don't care that I know.'

Potter stared at his fingernails. 'Not particularly. I know you won't tell anyone.'

Draco's cheeks flushed slightly but he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall, glaring daggers at Potter. 'And what makes you think that? I think it's time precious-Potter was taken down a peg.'

Potter looked up from his fingers and stared at Draco, unabashed. 'Because you owe me, Draco. I could stop funding to that vault any time.'

Draco stiffened at the mention of the fact that he did truly owe Potter quite a bit. 'I don't need that money; I've got my mother's. She's a former Black, that's one of the richest families in the world.'

'In possessions, yes, the Blacks are quite wealthy. But if we're talking about the worth of that vault, no, it's nothing close to what I have. And on top of that, your mother is no longer a Black. She has a very, very small portion. Is it enough to fund herself until retirement? Yes. But not enough for both of you. Not for life.' He paused and looked around to see if anyone was going to interrupt them. 'Unless you want to work a minimum wage job at an apothecary during breaks, I'd recommend you hold on to my little secret for a while longer.'

Draco was shaking with suppressed rage but let out a breath in defeat. 'Fine, Potter, you've got a deal. But know this… if you ever do anything to me, I'll make sure the world knows that the Boy Who Lived is a half-breed.'

Realistically, Draco knew that the money threat was not nearly as devastating as the knowledge that Harry Potter was a werewolf, but he also recognized the power he now held over Potter. That was worth a lot more than petty revenge.

When Potter nodded his understanding, adjusting his strap, he left the corridor with Draco alone to think over everything that had happened since the summer had begun. His life, and clearly that of others around him, had flipped completely upside down. Once again, as had happened many times over the previous week, his thoughts turned to Snape and his warning. 'As your godfather, as your professor, and as your friend, I am asking you to pick a side.'

Well, Draco knew one thing. He wasn't going to follow his father, that was a mistake written on the walls of Azkaban. He was going to make his own path. Whether people would follow him or not.

What that path would be, however, was left undecided. Draco was fourteen… he had time.