Aurora found Harry Potter on October 31st, Halloween morning, standing alone on a wooden bridge. The morning was crisp and clear, the low autumn sun casting long shadows across the grounds. Golden light spilled over the rolling hills and the Forbidden Forest, while faint wisps of mist clung to the lake's surface, giving the landscape an almost ethereal glow. It was a beautiful day, the kind that seemed perfectly suited for a festive outing.
That morning, students from third year and above had the rare chance to visit Hogsmeade, the wizarding village just beyond the castle. The excitement was tangible, a buzz of chatter and laughter had filled the air earlier, carrying through the halls as students eagerly prepared to leave. It was the kind of event no one ever wanted to miss—a brief escape from the structured life of Hogwarts into a world of butterbeer, enchanted sweets, and magical curiosities.
Yet here Harry was, standing apart from it all. The weathered wood of the bridge creaked faintly under his weight as he leaned against the railing, his hands loosely gripping the edge. His gaze was fixed on the horizon, but his expression was distant, as if his thoughts were somewhere far beyond the picturesque view. His shoulders were slightly hunched, and the subtle sag in his posture betrayed the sadness he carried, a weight that seemed out of place on a day like this.
Aurora approached him quietly, her steps soft against the planks of the bridge. She hadn't expected to find anyone out here, least of all Harry, and as she drew closer, she realized he was so lost in thought that he hadn't even noticed her. His untidy black hair was ruffled by the gentle breeze, and his robes swayed slightly, the edges catching the golden morning light.
"You're not in Hogsmeade, Harry?" Aurora asked gently, breaking the stillness.
Harry jumped at the sound of her voice, spinning around with wide eyes. His surprise quickly shifted to mild embarrassment as he recognized her, and a faint blush crept into his cheeks.
"Professor Moonridge..." he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you."
Aurora's smile was warm and reassuring, her tone soft as she replied, "No problem, Harry." She studied him for a moment, noting the way his gaze flickered to the ground and the way he shuffled his feet slightly, as though unsure what to say. "So? Will you share a secret with me. why aren't you with your friends on the trip today?"
Harry hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. The faint breeze tugged at his robes as he glanced back at the horizon, as if searching for the right words in the distant hills.
"My aunt and uncle didn't sign the consent form, Professor," he admitted finally, his voice tinged with quiet frustration. "I tried to ask Professor McGonagall if she could let me go, but she said it had to be signed by a parent or legal guardian."
Aurora's heart ached at the sadness in his tone. The faint lines of disappointment etched into his young face were all too clear, and she could only imagine how isolating it must feel to be left behind while his classmates enjoyed the freedom of Hogsmeade. He was just a boy, yet there was a sense of resignation in his words that felt far too heavy for his age.
She offered him a small smile, her eyes bright with a newfound determination. "Well," she said after a moment, her voice lighter, "I think I know how to cheer you up."
Harry looked at her, his brows furrowed slightly in curiosity, the faintest spark of hope flickering in his green eyes.
"I spoke to Professor Lupin," she explained gently. "He seems willing to talk to you about your parents."
At her words, Harry's face softened, and the glimmer of hope in his eyes grew brighter. For a moment, the sadness that had weighed him down seemed to lift, replaced by something warmer and more expectant.
"Professor, I... Thank you," he said quietly, the sincerity in his voice evident despite his hesitation.
"No problem, Harry," Aurora replied, her smile widening. She gestured toward the castle. "If you'd like, we can go see if Professor Lupin has a free moment, hm?"
Harry nodded, the motion small but certain, and fell into step beside her as they crossed the bridge together. The weight in his posture seemed a little lighter now, his steps more purposeful. Aurora stole a glance at him as they walked, her heart swelling with a quiet sense of resolve. She could only hope that the conversation ahead would bring him the answers, or perhaps just the connection, that he seemed to long for so deeply.
Aurora knocked on Remus's office door, the sound sharp against the quiet morning air, hoping the man would have the energy and willingness to spend some time with the boy who lived. She couldn't shake the feeling that this conversation about his parents might lift Harry's spirits, even just a little. The boy had seemed so downhearted earlier, his disappointment at missing the Hogsmeade trip weighing visibly on him. For a fleeting moment, she'd even wondered if there was any way she could bypass the rules and sign the consent form herself.
Inside, the office was dimly lit, a faint glow of sunlight filtering through the dusty panes of the small window, casting muted patterns onto the worn floorboards. Remus moved toward the door with surprising speed, though his body ached from the aftereffects of the full moon. It had been only a day since the transformation, and he still felt drained, the kind of weariness that seemed to seep into his very bones. Yet when the faint scent of Aurora reached him, accompanied by another, fainter scent that was achingly familiar though he couldn't immediately place it, he found himself quickening his pace without quite knowing why.
When he opened the door, Moonridge stood there, composed but expectant, with Harry Potter just behind her. The boy shifted slightly, his trainers scuffing against the floor as he glanced up at Lupin with a mixture of hesitation and curiosity.
"Professor Lupin," Aurora greeted him with a small nod, her voice steady and polite. "I hope you have a moment."
"Professor Moonridge, Harry," he replied, his tiredness carefully masked by a warm, practiced tone. "Good morning. As it happens, I've just finished grading papers. Please, come in."
He stepped back to let them enter, his eyes flicking between the two as they crossed the threshold. Aurora moved with her characteristic poise, her strides purposeful but unhurried, the soft rustle of her robes brushing against the air. Harry followed more hesitantly, his head tilting slightly as he took in the space around him. The cluttered shelves lined with books, the desk strewn with parchment, and the faint scent of ink and aged wood, all of it seemed to hold his attention.
The pair settled into the chairs across from his desk, the old wood creaking softly beneath them. Remus closed the door behind them with deliberate care, the faint click adding a sense of privacy to the room. The sound seemed to settle over them like a pause in conversation, the moment stretching briefly as he took in the scene before him.
As he moved to his own chair, Remus allowed his gaze to linger on Harry for a moment longer, and the boy's resemblance to James struck him anew. There was something so familiar in the unruly hair, the shape of his face, but it was his eyes, Lily's eyes, that held his attention most. Yet there was a difference too, an uncertainty in Harry's posture, a kind of guardedness, as if he had learned to brace himself for disappointment.
Remus folded his hands on the desk, his expression neutral but attentive, though a faint unease settled in his chest. He had a growing sense that this conversation might touch on wounds that had never fully healed.
"So, Harry," Remus began slowly, his tone deliberate and gentle, "Professor Moonridge mentioned earlier that you'd like to know more about your parents."
"Thank you for agreeing to this, Professor," Harry said, his voice quiet but earnest. He shifted slightly in his chair, as though unsure how to position himself. "Professor Moonridge mentioned that this might be a difficult subject for you, so... I... I understand if you're not ready to talk about it."
Lupin offered him a gentle, reassuring smile, his weathered face softening. There was kindness in his gaze, but also a flicker of something else—pain, perhaps, or nostalgia.
"It's worth talking about and remembering the people who brought so much good into the world, Harry. Your parents were remarkable people. Oh, how much I would give to see James laughing again, pulling another prank on Professor McGonagall, and Lily scolding him for every single one of them." His smile grew faintly wistful, and for a moment, his eyes seemed to drift elsewhere, to memories only he could see. "James pursued her for so many years before she finally agreed to go on a date with him. Well, he finally managed it, and a few years later, you came along. Believe me, Harry, your birth was one of the happiest days of our lives. I still remember Si...our friend holding you for the first time. He was so afraid he'd drop you."
Lupin's chuckle was soft and brief, but it was enough to coax a tentative smile from Harry. The boy's expression lightened ever so slightly, as though the weight on his shoulders had eased, if only for a moment. Aurora noticed this, her heart swelling with quiet relief. Even these small glimpses into his parents' lives seemed to brighten his day, to give him a piece of the connection he'd long been searching for.
The room settled into a brief but comfortable silence. Harry stared down at his hands, his fingers brushing over the edge of his robes, fidgeting with the fabric as though gathering the courage to speak again. Aurora could sense the hesitance in his posture, the slight tilt of his head as if weighing his next words carefully.
"It's a shame," Aurora said softly, breaking the stillness, "that the memory of your little group has faded at Hogwarts. I remember, back in the day, people still talked about your pranks on the teachers." Her voice carried a light, teasing tone, and she glanced at Harry, hoping her comment would spark his curiosity and encourage him to engage.
She was right. Harry looked up, a glimmer of intrigue replacing his earlier uncertainty. "Professor, you pranked teachers?" he asked, his tone incredulous but tinged with admiration.
Remus chuckled lightly, the sound warm and genuine. "I wouldn't say I did the pranking. My role was more... logistical and theoretical. James and our friend handled the practical execution. And Peter, our other friend, often played the role of the lookout or shield."
The light in Harry's face dimmed slightly as a deeper question surfaced in his mind. He hesitated, his voice softening to almost a whisper. "What... what happened to your friends?" His words carried a tentative quality, as though he feared he was overstepping. But when he noticed the shadow that fell over Lupin's features, Harry quickly added, "Oh, I'm sorry. You don't have to say anything. I didn't mean to—"
"For me, Harry," Remus interrupted gently, his voice quiet but laden with emotion, "in my heart, all my friends are long gone." His words hung in the air, each syllable weighted with sorrow and a truth too painful to elaborate on.
Aurora cast a sidelong glance at Lupin, noticing the way his hands had stilled, resting lightly on his lap. The lines on his face seemed deeper now, etched with years of grief that even time couldn't fully heal. Harry, too, had gone still, his gaze fixed on Lupin as though trying to understand the depth of loss behind those simple words.
Harry left Lupin's office half an hour later. Aurora watched him go, her gaze following him to the door. She remained seated, her hands resting lightly on her lap, though her fingers had stilled. Something Lupin had said during the conversation lingered in her mind, an unanswered question that she felt compelled to ask—but not in front of Harry.
"Remus?" she began hesitantly, her voice breaking the quiet that had settled over the room.
Lupin, who had been gazing absently out the window, startled slightly. He turned, surprised to see her still there. For a moment, he had thought she had left alongside Harry, lost in his own thoughts as he was.
"Sorry, Aurora," he said with a faint, apologetic smile. "I thought you'd gone." His voice was warm, but the weariness in his expression was evident. "Thank you for staying. I could tell Harry felt more at ease with you here."
"Thank you for agreeing to this, Remus," Aurora said softly, a sigh escaping her as though releasing some of the tension from the room. "Can I ask you something?"
He inclined his head slightly, inviting her to continue. "Of course. Ask."
She hesitated for a heartbeat, her gaze steady but cautious. "You mentioned earlier that, to you, all your friends are long dead... What about Sirius Black? Did you mean him then?"
Remus's face changed subtly, the faint warmth of his earlier smile fading into something heavier, darker. He met her gaze directly, his amber eyes filled with a sorrow that ran deep.
"Oh, Aurora..." His voice was quiet but laced with bitterness. "It was mainly him I had in mind when I said that. That man died for me the moment he betrayed the Potters to Voldemort."