MEMORY VIAL 33: A LOVE TOO VOLATILE (YEAR 6)
On his birthday, Harry found himself feeling disappointed and almost depressed when Oberon did not show up at the Burrow with a well-wishing letter from Draco Malfoy. And while Harry assumed Draco was unaware that he was spending most of his summer with the Weasleys, he knew Oberon would be able to find him somehow, if for no other reason than to hunt with Hedwig through the surrounding countryside.
Harry assumed he and Draco were still in a relationship, even though things had ended badly at the end of the school year—especially on the train. For that reason, he had expected to receive the smallest grudging gift, but when nothing came, Harry sulked like a defrauded Dudley Dursley for the rest of the day.
His negative mood attracted curious glances from Ginny and Hermione over lunch, who believed their thoughtful gifts ought to have cheered him up, but all Harry offered them were desultory grunts of appreciation. Harry maintained a far-off look as he wondered what his boyfriend was doing all that day. He didn't feel so much as a magical love-pull on his ankles, either, which he would have appreciated in place of getting nothing, but the leftover magic from Cupid's Cauldron was fussy at best.
While Harry had been able to command the capricious magic connecting him to Draco earlier in the year, he felt too proud to attempt it again over the summer, especially on his birthday. He didn't see it as his responsibility to initiate contact, since he didn't think the mess of their situation was his fault to begin with. And the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if Draco wanted him to ruminate over their lack of communication… Maybe this was some of the punishment Draco had been alluding to: psychological torture in the complete absence of Draco's expressions of love. But Harry had also not wished Draco a "Happy Birthday" in June, and turnabout was fair play when it came to the adversarial way they interacted.
That evening, Harry decided to talk to Lupin, to let him know how things had progressed and ultimately ended up between him and Draco. He would omit the lascivious details, of course, but he would divulge as much as he could, to get Lupin's honest opinion on if the relationship was worth pursuing.
"We didn't wait," Harry admitted, when he had lured Lupin out of the house for a talk while his birthday celebration was still going on indoors. The evening's first stars twinkled overhead. Privately, Harry told himself that if he caught sight of Draco's constellation before any other, then he would override everyone else's opinions, no matter how grim, and continue with the pain of pursuing Draco no matter what it cost.
Lupin smiled knowingly. "No one ever waits. I think we just tell everyone they should because it's the responsible thing to do. It's the right thing, to be sure, but when you're in love, caution isn't really all that important. Something in our hearts would rather learn the hard way…"
Harry gave an abridged version of all his dates, arguments, and conversations with Draco, including the "duel" they had had in Gryffindor Tower. Harry stayed away from talking about how physical everything had gotten, omitting what "dueling" really meant, and instead focused on the volatility of their interactions and the troubling dialogue that had taken place during the last few days of school.
Harry repeated everything Draco had said to him: the threats, followed by the incongruous remarks of affection. "He said he still loves me," Harry said slowly. "But he hates me first and foremost, because of his dad. He told me I ruined everything."
"But how do you feel about him?" Lupin asked sagely.
Harry reflected for a moment. "To be honest, sir, after what he said when I told him Sirius was dead, I hate him more than ever. I really want him to suffer, you know? I want him to know what it feels like to get bullied, to be stripped of his family and forced into servitude like I was with the Dursleys."
"You want him to understand you," Lupin offered slowly. "You want him to show compassion and empathy, but he doesn't have any to offer you right now."
Wind rippled through the grass and made the garden flowers whirl in mesmerizing circles. Harry remembered the honeysuckle and roses in the enchanted garden at the Yule Ball. There were also patches of forget-me-nots scattered throughout the property, taking shelter under copses, reminding him of the prefects' bathroom whenever he saw them, and wild Dragonsnap Blooms sinuated through the lattice boards Ginny had set up against house.
"Where's Harry?" Hermione asked from the nearby overlooking window.
Harry smirked sideways at Lupin, but the man appeared to be distracted by the pain of his own thoughts.
"Out on a walk with Remus," said Mr. Weasley, which was followed by a sudden screeching of chair legs. "A private walk, girls," he intoned. "He'll be back very soon, now sit down so we can listen to the rest of Fleur's story when she gets back."
Minutes later, Harry listened to Fleur's dulcet accents going on about the serendipitous events of her first date with Bill. He smiled. As strange as Fleur was, he would have loved to have a normal relationship like her, so his heart didn't hemorrhage all the livelong day over the smallest things.
"Perhaps I was wrong," Lupin said at last.
Harry braced himself for what came next. The sky had turned a blackish shade of violet, and the brightest stars were now joined by flecks of the more bashful ones.
"A relationship like the one you have with Draco right now will only fester as time goes on. That's my honest opinion, if you want it. What do you both have in common, really?"
Harry's heart plummeted, and a hopeless feeling came crashing down on him. At the same time, however, he felt vindicated, since he had suspected the same all along. Harry's love had rankled ever since Draco had said those heartless words to him about Sirius:
"I wasn't spared my father. Why should you be spared a man you hardly knew?"
Devaluing Sirius was a sin Harry was indisposed to ever forgive. Sirius had been his only family, and to hear Draco say something like that… made Harry want to kill him.
Romance with the meanest boy in school came with its obvious hazards. Cruelty was par for the course. Heartbreak was inevitable, unless one slavishly obeyed everything Draco said. Dating Malfoy was inadvisable to anyone, except a soulless sycophant like Pansy Parkinson—and that was already without the added complications of the Malfoys' family involvement with the Death Eaters.
Hermione, Lupin, and Snape were all expressing their disapproval of the relationship in a unanimous voice. For some reason, however, their disapproval made Harry want Draco that much more. Even Sirius wouldn't have approved of what he was doing, and for once it seemed like all the people he knew would be in agreement with the Dursleys. He imagined even Professor Dumbledore would not be thrilled to hear he had involved himself with Draco, although he couldn't be sure. All he knew was that the forbidden nature of their dark and tumultuous relationship made him want to drown in it that much more.
Harry looked at the now-black sky. The first constellation he saw was Cygnus, not Draco, and the hopeless feeling in the pit of his stomach expanded.
He supposed the longer he allowed himself to be verbally flogged by Draco the unhappier he would be… Except, he was beginning to realize that he loved the way Draco treated him.
Harry had graduated from escaping abuse at home, for the most part, to subjecting himself to similar mistreatment with his boyfriend. Getting jerked around, as if by a chain, while being scolded and humiliated had become a sick indulgence for them both.
Being forced to kneel in front of Draco, watching as lust flooded the other boy's eyes, had felt so good and so intoxicating that he was willing to put up with the emotional distress of it all…
He had loved the thrill of having Draco shout at him, and he craved the pressure of Draco's hand around his neck. While he'd been handled like that by the Dursleys because they hated him, it was completely different being handled the same way because he was wanted that badly.
It was empowering, really. The abuse was to be enjoyed, and he knew Draco did not want to really hurt him. Making love with Draco felt incredible, but violent sex was a special thing between them now. On their last day at Hogwarts, Harry's bedroom had become a place for them to allow the slumbering monsters inside them to roam free, and the aggression they had shared had only served to make Harry feel bound to Draco that much more.
"Severus discovering you both tongue-locked in his classroom is about the funniest thing I could have imagined." Lupin snorted. "But he's right about what he said. If Draco is as angry as you say, then he might do anything to exact revenge, even if it's simply to ruin your prospects at school somehow. Don't be too upset with Severus on that count. Whether or not it's for the right reasons, he's only trying to help the best way he can."
Harry found the head of the dragon constellation at last. But it was too late. "Snape's jealous. I think he regrets leaving you, so he thought it'd be fun to spread the misery."
"Don't talk about Severus like that ever again," Lupin said sternly. "Of all the unfair things for you to say…"
"But it's not unfair. It's true."
"He might be petty, but he wouldn't hurt you for kissing Draco. You might not like him, but he does have some moral backbone. Dumbledore thinks so, also. Frankly, I'm more willing to trust Albus's judgement than my own."
For the briefest moment, Harry's respect for Lupin faltered. He fixed the tired-looking man with a hard look. "He's got a clear shot at you now, doesn't he? And, sorry, but 'moral backbone'? When he abandoned you?"
Lupin sighed. "Stop it, Harry…"
"My godfather's dead, and Snape loved you once upon a time. I imagine he's still stewing in his jealousy. He has all the time in the world now to try and win you over, and he's not sorry at all about Sirius."
"Harry—STOP." All of a sudden, Lupin was haggard with emotion. "He is Professor Snape to you, first of all," he said, while trying to control the quaking in his voice. "And second—Severus is not interested in me anymore, do you hear? You would do well to mind your own business—it never had anything to do with you in the first place."
"But we talked openly about Draco, so I thought—"
"You wanted my advice," Lupin said firmly. "I obliged, because I care, and I know you're having a hard time. In this case, Harry, you are putting your nose where it doesn't belong. You were never supposed to know about Severus's involvement with me, and I only told you our story in the hopes it would satisfy your curiosity and prevent you from doing anything stupid."
Harry opened his mouth, but then reclosed it. He had been about to argue, but he understood he had overstepped some boundary. "I'm sorry, sir. Really, I am."
Lupin swept his fingers through his graying hair, and sighed. "Listen, Harry… Even if you were right about Severus—and you're not… I'm still…" He swallowed tightly. "I'm still grieving. You can't know if Severus would ever get through to me, but I can promise he would not."
There was a pathetic crackling in Lupin's voice that made Harry's heart skip a beat. He had seriously offended Lupin, it seemed, and he felt thoroughly embarrassed with himself. This whole time, Harry had failed to realize Lupin had loved Sirius more than anyone. They had been best friends, after all, and lovers that had endured a painful separation once already. Now, death had intervened to divide them permanently.
But Lupin's grief had been hidden behind a mask of wan equanimity until now. Ever the caretaker, Lupin had hidden his true feelings from everyone who was seeking comfort from him in the wake of the battle at the Ministry.
"It'd be a miracle if my long-lost love was able to persuade me back into his arms. I lost half my heart because of Bellatrix, and Severus and I have too much history. It's so shattered that it can't be repaired with a simple wave of the wand like you must think. Besides… you must recall that I believe his heart has been spoken for, even back while we were teenagers. At no point was Severus ever really mine."
Harry stood in silence for a while. He watched the ants scrabble in chaotic circles by the dim light of the lantern that creaked in the wind behind their heads. He felt terrible for angering Lupin so much, especially since he had always thought himself incapable of getting under Lupin's skin. He wondered if he had forfeited his confidence, and if there'd be more distance between them from now on.
Harry desperately wanted to be close to his old teacher. He wanted to exalt him to the pedestal of father figure, since it was what Lupin had been to him for the past couple of years, alongside his godfather.
"I forgot how much Sirius meant to you," Harry said by way of apology. "He meant more to you than he could've ever meant to me." Like Draco had said: "I hardly knew him."
"You and Tonks are both misguided. She partly feels the same as you, even though she hardly knew him. I loved him more than anyone, yes, but it's not good to compare your grief to someone else's. Comparison assumes your feelings are less valid, when that's simply not the case. Do you know who told me that?"
"Professor Dumbledore?" Harry guessed, figuring the answer was obvious, since the Headmaster was an endless repository of wise sayings.
"Believe it or not, James told me that a couple of years before he died."
Harry stared, fascinated to learn that his father was capable of putting words together like that.
"To be fair, though, I doubt he came up with it himself. I suspect he got it from Albus while we were still in school."
Harry smiled sadly, wishing he could hear more about his father's stolen words of wisdom.
"Your grief is your own, Harry," Lupin said, wanting to press the point. "It's not to be compared, and it especially shouldn't be rushed, no matter how impatient anyone gets. Even if you'd never met your godfather, I'd expect you to be sad that he's gone. The one thing you and Tonks should never feel, though, is guilt."
Harry's hands tightened into fists. He, Ron, and Hermione had already figured Tonks was feeling guilty about Sirius—and all the while, Remus was suffering far more than either of them. Yet here he was, a bulwark of wisdom, comforting them through their comparatively small pain…
"You mustn't let your emotions run away with you either, in the case of the Malfoy boy." Lupin's smile was understanding. "You tried to make it work, but I'm telling you now, it doesn't seem safe from what you've told me. Love can make us overcome our prejudices, but it can also backfire by blinding us to the warning signs that are blaring in our faces. If I were you, I'd back off and leave him alone. Give him space to process his feelings without putting yourself in his way. He's just a boy who lost his father, like you, even though it was Lucius's own fault. Right now, though, I think you're both too wounded to be any good to each other."
Silence fell between them, and those final words resounded in Harry's mind like a doldrum.
That was how things stood, then. A boundary line had been drawn between Voldemort and those who opposed him. Draco had set his feet firmly on the opposite side of that line to Harry, all while insisting it was the right way to go. Harry could not follow him, no matter how deeply in love he felt.
"It's a good thing you have your friends, Harry."
Harry roused out of the deep sadness that had just come over him. Dazed from heartbreak, he frowned questioningly at Lupin.
"You might feel like you can't share anything you're going through with them, but I think you'd be surprised at how accepting they would be if you opened up."
Hermione, definitely, thought Harry. But Ron? He'd flay me…
Harry looked up at the stars, at Ursa Major, then Ursa Minor, wondering how a person was supposed to end a relationship they wanted to last forever.
"Sir," Harry murmured quietly. "Forgive me… but you mentioned earlier… Uh. Does Tonks know about you and…?" He couldn't complete the sentence, not after being rebuked for his comments about Snape. This time, however, Lupin did not snap at him.
"I won't be sharing any more about Tonks, Snape, or Sirius with you. These are personal matters. But I can tell you, like Molly and Arthur, she never knew. She knows I loved him as a friend, and she's brokenhearted over his death for reasons I won't discuss."
Harry closed his eyes and listened to the ongoing commotion that was flooding out of the window. Fleur was laughing in shrieks that somehow reminded him of Pansy, and the conversation around the table was energetic but too jumbled for him to follow. After a while, Ginny and Hermione emerged from the front door, and Ginny smiled thoughtfully at Harry.
"Are we interrupting?" asked Hermione.
"Not at all," Lupin said. "Please, join us. We were really just admiring the stars."
Harry suspected Lupin had been looking for Canis Major. But since he had gotten an 'A' on his Astronomy exam, he knew that constellation wasn't visible this time of year.