The click from the door told Remus that they were alone in the corridor, shut off from the rest of the students. He turned around slowly, hardly daring to believe that James stood right in front of him. As he swung around, he caught glimpse of himself in a small, grimy mirror. It was hung awkwardly on the wall, as the glass sinisterly showed Remus his face. Was it really his? In the reflection shimmered a middle aged man’s face, and would have been handsome if not for the bags under his eyes and the overall aura of exhaustion.

Will James recognize me? Thoughts flittered around Remus’s head, like feathers in the breeze and most impossible to catch. It would have been almost impossible to believe I would one day look so drained! A tentative hand traced the indented line under his right eye. This all took place in under five seconds, but when Remus emerged from his thought process, his mind was changed. He couldn’t tell James, not as Lupin nor Moony but just as a colleague. Yes, that was it! Why he had collected this sudden urge not to tell James, he could only ask himself. And when he did, all it came up with was a feeling. Deep and logical it swelled in him, and he interpreted it as too much intimacy. If Prongs and Moony met, there would be laughter and jokes. James and a teacher, though, would be much stiffer. That way, Remus wouldn’t be as depressed when James had to go again, go back to his own time.

Right then it sounded like the perfect idea, and so he let it flow. “Well, James,” greeted Remus, longing and yet dreading to see if James would recognize him, “Thrown into the future, eh? Having fun?” He was being wry, and he knew it. The surprising thing was, he couldn’t stop.

“Quite well, sir.” James snapped to attention mockingly. “Potions class is much more fun with Snivellus teaching. And how do you know I’m James, not this Harry fellow?” He expressed no shock, but did show interest.

“Your kind Headmaster told me. I’m here to help keep your secret, in simplest terms.” He longed to reach out and clap James on the back, to cry and to believe, believe James was still alive. But he couldn’t.

“Do I know you? You look awfully familiar,” squinted James as he gazed quizzically into Lupin’s face.

“I was an acquaintance of yours during your Hogwarts years,” allowed Lupin, then sealed his lips. There was no way he was letting more out.

Ron waved frantically at Lupin and mouthed all sorts of things, for example, “What are you doing? Are you insane?" In the end, Ron ushered Lily out, still looking confusedly at the former Professor.

“What are you doing?” Lily shook Ron as hard as she could when they emerged into the blinding light and fresh air. “We could have stayed in there! We could have told James that this was Moony!”

“I don’t think he wanted James to know,” pondered Ron.

"Look, I just don't know anymore," Lily muttered. "Just leave it. We'll go back in after they're done."

Ron turned an inquisitive eye on her, but said nothing. Just... waited.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Sybil!” stormed Snape as he rushed into her room. She slowly turned around, hoping it wouldn’t be Severus, but unfortunately it was.

“Why, Severus,” she whispered, batting her eyelashes as if something were stuck in her eye, “you have come back! I knew you would!” At this she was praying he’d walk away so she could get back to her disco music.

“You are not spreading rumors to the children about…” At this he spun about, scanning for nearby intruders, “us.”

“Of course not, Severus,” assured Sybil.

But for one moment, Snape felt something clunk in his heart. Why wasn’t she spreading rumors? We have something special… thought Snape then shook his head fiercely. What was he thinking? Was he having some sort of mental breakdown?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Ron,” Lily murmured as they strolled outside in the gardens, “Do you think I’ll ever get back? To my own time, I mean.”

“Do you want to?”

“Of course I do. I miss Petunia, no matter how horrible she is, and most of all, James. He is here, but at the same time not. He ignores me, all because of that argument, that stupid argument!” A bit of passion crept into her voice, but faded away like fog in the sunshine.

“I’m sorry Lily.” What had he meant by that? Ron hadn’t even thought, but the words popped out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“Thank you.” She hugged him tightly, and whispered, “You’ve been so good to me!”

He nearly staggered to the floor, but another part of him wanted to hug her back. Ron fought the emotion for a moment, but eventually let it take over him. A little bit of pressure, not too much, Ron reminded himself, as she buried her head in his shoulder.

Meanwhile, up above, Harry was looking out of his dorm window. Hate poured over him, mostly directed at Voldemort. He took away my parents, he thought bitterly as he flung open the shade. But left me to live. Wouldn’t it all be easier if he had taken me too? None of this would have happened, if not for secrets. Well, at least I have my friends; they don’t hold secrets from me.

Harry gazed out the window, taking in the blue sky and blinding sun. The whole world was beautiful, and he was part of it. At least he was part of something. Sighing, he glanced below, where he saw two figures. One looked amazingly like Ron, and the other’s face was concealed. But he could make out one thing, and that was they were hugging.

His face twisted into a mask of hurt, and he struck the window pane. How stupid was he, to have believed Ron and Hermione kept no secrets? They didn’t care for him, only themselves.

At that second, Harry had made up his mind. He was going to confront Ron, here and there about this girl, and he couldn’t wait to see who she was. Moodily stomping off, he thought sourly, Ron should have told me about her! Did he think I couldn’t handle it? Who is she, anyway? Yet, we all know that Harry wouldn’t be able to handle it if he knew who that woman was.

His mother.