Disclaimer: The fine tapestry of plot and characters belongs to J.K. Rowling. I am merely pulling threads at will and weaving my own design in counterpoint to hers.
Chapter 60
Parlour Games
“Remus, need I remind you that you have a class starting in ten minutes?” McGonagall addressed the slightly rumpled figure that was dozing at Harry’s bedside. “Remus!”
Lupin turned a bleary gaze in her direction. From the stubble on his chin, it was clear that he been awake most of the night. “Yes, Headmistress,” he acknowledged her politely. “But it’s--”
“It’s Harry, I know,” the Headmistress replied in an indulgent tone. “You still cannot abandon your other duties, no matter how difficult it becomes to tear yourself away.”
“Minerva, my place is here.”
McGonagall pulled over the desk chair so that she was sitting beside Lupin. Despite the intervening years, seeing him dressed in jeans, loafers and a simple button-down shirt made him seem like a school boy all over again. Perhaps one at University, she amended inwardly.
“I know you feel that way, Remus.” Then placing her hand gently on his arm to ensure that she had his undivided attention, she added softly, “You have to realize that were it any other student, I would have no choice but to bring you up on disciplinary charges. You and Harry have established a familial bond.”
Lupin’s expression registered a single instant of surprise before he capitulated, “There’s no point in denying it.”
“I also recognize that I threw the two of you together, knowing full well that this was a very distinct possibility," the Headmistress soothed. "It doesn’t take a genius to see that this is what Harry needed.”
“It wasn’t all your doing,” Lupin admitted softly as he stole a quick glance towards the bed. “I took the assignment voluntarily. I wanted to work with Harry from the start; you just facilitated that. The feelings were already there.”
She smiled benevolently at the concerned look on Lupin’s face. “Yes, Remus, I counted on that. I just didn’t know how far you would be willing to take it, how many boundaries you’d be willing to cross. You’ve always been such a stickler for formalities.”
“You know me too well, Minerva.” Lupin smiled gently in return. “There are no boundaries between Harry and me, not any longer. Those were demolished long ago.”
The Headmistress’ eyes widened in obvious surprise. “Then you have both been very careful about what you allow others to see. It wouldn’t do for the whole school to accuse you of favoritism.”
“I suspect they notice that I spend extra time with him.”
“Yes, but under an individualized curriculum, no one would fault an advisor for keeping close ties on his charge,” she returned in his defense. “Come, you’ll look presentable enough if you just tuck in your shirt. I’m sure Ron or Neville won’t mind if you borrow one of their school robes. Try the wardrobe in the common room...”
Lupin gave McGonagall’s hand a quick squeeze before standing up slowly. At the door to the common door, he hesitated, his eyes lingering on Harry’s slumbering form. “I so wanted to be here when he awoke,” he intoned candidly. “He was delirious when I arrived last night, you know.”
Lupin raised his eyes to meet McGonagall’s in one last silent plea.
“No, Remus, I cannot take over your Transfiguration lesson for you “ that is something that is reserved for life and death situations only,” she replied, her voice laced with compassion. “Regardless of what you may think, Harry is past the worse of it now. I will sit with him until you are free.”
“Thank you, Minerva,” he replied as stepped back into the room and gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head. “Please promise me that you’ll keep Poppy Pomfrey out of it, though.”
“Remus, I know the two of you have your differences, but she’s still--”
“She asks too many questions,” Lupin returned with quiet authority.
With sudden understanding, McGonagall urged, “You think this may have something to do with the assignment that Dumbledore gave Harry?”
“I’m certain of it.”
“What precisely makes you think that?”
“Because, in this instance, I was not the first person that Harry called when he knew he was in trouble.”
“How are you so certain that’s how he would react?” McGonagall prodded.
Lupin flashed her a quick grin. “Because as you just said, Minerva, we share a familial bond. That is the only thing that he hasn’t shared with me.”
“I see your point.”
Lupin turned to find that Ron was already waiting with school robes and a Gryffindor tie draped over his arm.
“By all means, Professor,” Ron offered. “I owe you for taking my watch with Harry last night.”
“Glad to do it, Ron.” Lupin smiled as he patted Ron’s shoulder genially. “I don’t suppose I could impose upon you to nip down to my classroom and let them know I’m on my way.”
“Of course,” Ron replied magnanimously. “I’m already a familiar face to them.”
Noting McGonagall’s amusement as she watched the proceedings from the doorway of Harry’s room, Lupin added with a wink, “Just tell them I was detained by the Headmistress.”
Hermione barely managed to hide her smirk as she showed Lupin the mirror on the inside door of the coat wardrobe so that he could properly knot his tie.
“If you’ll forgive me for saying so, Professor,” she offered with mischief dancing in her eyes, “you should wear jeans with your school robes more often. You look exactly like one of those Silicon Valley yuppies on Casual Day “ all that’s missing is your Sierra Club tie.”
At Lupin’s bewildered expression, the Headmistress couldn’t resist interjecting, “Perhaps you’ll start a new trend, Remus.”
“That’s a great idea,” Hermione agreed. “I’ll give you a few motivational notes on the way to class and you can take it from there.” She had her pen poised over the yellow post-it notes before the stone sconce cycled closed behind her.
“Didn’t anyone get the memo?” Lupin intoned heartily as he strode to the front of his class. “Today is Casual Day….”
Hermione barely managed to suppress a giggle as she quietly closed the door to the Transfiguration classroom.
“He’s determined to cause mischief,” Ron observed with a knowing smirk.
“It’s going to have snowballed by the end of the day,” Hermione predicted with a wry laugh.
“Shall we let Harry in on it?” Ron asked.
“Absolutely, but we’ll have to wait until the Headmistress leaves.”
Finding themselves alone in the corridor, Ron drew Hermione down on the deserted bench next to him.
“What’s so wrong with a familial bond?” he whispered. “Isn’t that a bit like what you and I share with Harry?”
“Yes, but I think the Headmistress is making a distinction between being ‘like’ family and truly being family.”
“You’ve lost me, Hermione,” Ron admitted. “Euphemisms leave me in the dark most of the time.”
“In its simplest terms, I think the Headmistress is saying that Lupin has consciously taken up Sirius’ role.”
“If it suits Lupin and Harry “ and there’s no doubt that it does “ who’s to object?” Ron shrugged. “It’s not as if Harry shares his classes with anyone else.”
“Thank goodness somebody else got the memo!” Harry announced from the doorway of the Transfiguration classroom as he fingered the Whale Watch tie he had found in the bottom of his trunk.
The bell to dismiss class had already rung, but most of the students were taking their time organizing their belongings. Harry walked confidently towards the front of the room, watching the students melt away before him. Lupin looked up in surprise then broke out into the Marauder’s grin.
“So that’s a Sierra Club tie,” Lupin remarked as he clasped the hand that Harry offered him.
“Actually, this is from Greenpeace,” Harry admitted. “Any eco-friendly, tree-hugging organization will do.”
Noting that they were now alone, Lupin pulled Harry into a friendly hug. “You had me so worried last night,” he whispered.
“You? I was the one who put down my last words on paper!” Harry returned.
“I put the letter in your top desk drawer, by the way.”
“Hermione told me; I’ve already turned it over to the Headmistress to forward to my safe at Gringott’s.”
“You’re not going to actually give it to Ginny?” Lupin asked.
“Not when I can still tell her those things in person.” Harry smiled. “Hermione’s right about that, at least… And Remus, what did you give me last night? I had the most bizarre dreams.”
“The ones that you were having while you were still awake are called hallucinations,” Lupin corrected dryly.
“I woke up so thirsty; I knew I should’ve asked Dumbledore to hold the salt on the Margaritas he was feeding me!”
“Surely not…” Lupin started to laugh. “Do you even know what a Margarita is?”
“Not exactly,” Harry joined in. “But these were a blinding lime green and the goblets were the size of a Pensieve, I swear.”
“Was Dumbledore wearing a sombrero?” Lupin roared as he sat down on the edge of the desk to keep his feet.
“Bright fuchsia!”
“Spare me the excuses, Remus, I know something’s up!” Ginny’s eyes flashed as she settled herself before the window in Lupin’s inner office.
“Can’t a man have a cup of tea between classes without being subjected to an inquisition?” Lupin returned archly as he watched her over the rim of his cup.
“Your practiced innocence doesn’t work with me, you know.”
Lupin carefully remained impassive as he took slow sips of his tea. It was hardly what his empty stomach craved; but he was afraid that if he indulged in a few bites of lunch, his body would immediately demand a nap. Right now, the hunger pangs were the only thing keeping him awake.
“If you think I’m bluffing--” Ginny prodded.
“”show me your cards, then,” Lupin countered as he concluded that she was not going to back down.
With a world weary sigh, Ginny leaned over Lupin’s chair and ran the back of her hand along his jaw line. “You didn’t shave this morning,” she began.
“So now you’re my personal dresser.” He gave her a disarming smile as he looked her straight in the face. “I overslept.”
“Tonks hates razor stubble. She says it’s the hallmark of self-absorbed immaturity,” Ginny shot back with a grin.
Lupin laughed. “I’ll be sure to shave first thing when I get back to the residence.”
“I’ve never seen you wear jeans to class.”
“I’m not certain the memo was circulated very thoroughly,” Lupin replied without missing a beat.
“Yes, the Casual Day subterfuge was truly masterful. I’ve already been asked a number of times if Fred and George stock Sierra Club ties. You sold everyone on the notion rather well.”
“Everyone but you, obviously,” Lupin muttered.
“You didn’t wear your tie tack.”
“Already established that I was in a hurry.”
“Then why are you wearing Ron’s school robes instead of your own?” Ginny sat herself on the footstool at Lupin’s feet with a decidedly smug look on her face.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Lupin bluffed as he absently stroked the ends of his tie. He’d gotten so used to wearing the tie tack that it felt strange to be without it.
Ginny leaned over and caught the left sleeve of his robes between her fingers. She found the small hole near the hem and poked her little finger through it for Lupin’s benefit.
“These are Fred’s old robes. This hole is a souvenir of the pyrotechnic finale he and George orchestrated two years ago. George’s robe ended up in the dustbin due to a rather large singed patch along the backside.”
It was impossible to argue with such inside information, Lupin concluded, so he just held his tongue.
“Since there’s no mark from a tie tack, I suspect that the Gryffindor tie is similarly borrowed. Would I find Ron’s name sewn on the inside lining if I turned it over?” Ginny made as if to grab for the ends of Lupin’s tie, but he twisted out of her reach.
“If I concede your points, what then, Ginny? What’s the intent of this interrogation without an accusation at the end?”
Ginny rose to her feet and leaned dramatically against the fireplace mantle. It was all Lupin could do to keep from smirking.
“That’s the problem, you see,” Ginny intoned with just the perfect contemplative air. “I don’t have the other suspects at hand for the denouement.”
“Then your attempt to invoke the spirit of Hercule Poirot “ or Jane Marple “ is flawed,” Lupin observed wryly. “Perhaps a bit of period tweed would help with the illusion.”
“You’re just spoiled because Tonks can add such details with a thought!” she retorted.
“Don’t forget that I’m still your Transfiguration teacher; surely you don’t want to suggest that a simple change in the fabric of your skirt is beyond your skill.” Lupin gave her an expectant look.
“Is that how the scoring system for this game works?” she returned. “Sounds a bit arbitrary to me.”
“Just as long as it’s not amateurish.”
“I suppose I deserved that,” Ginny acknowledged. Then with a dramatic open-armed swirl worthy of their recent Apparition instructor, she intoned a complicated mantra that changed the dark grey wool of her skirt into purple heather tweed. “Does that meet with your approval? I refuse to do frumpy; we had enough of that during Umbridge’s regime. And while I’m at it, Professor, this is a Sierra Club tie!” She drew her wand sharply down the length of her Gryffindor stripes and transformed them into a pattern of autumn leaves in brown and purplish hues.
“If I admit that I found your entire display entertaining, Ginny, what do you want from me?” Lupin’s laugh had an infectious quality to it.
“Tell me what’s going down,” she urged.
“The events ‘went down’ last night, but it’s not my story to tell. I was only one of the supporting players. Will you let me off the hook if I take you to the true perpetrators? I still have a few extra minutes before my next class.”
“Thanks, Remus,” she returned with a satisfied grin.
Harry looked up from his toasted cheese sandwich at the sound of the sconce opening. His face broke out in a grin when he saw it was Lupin.
“Remus, I thought you still had another class to get through today,” he called in greeting.
“I do,” Lupin admitted stoically. “Ginny twisted my arm into bringing her up to confront you. She provided a rather stringent critique of my performance.” He stepped aside as Ginny scrambled through behind him. “Although she did mention that she has already received numerous inquiries for Sierra Club ties.”
“Already on it!” Hermione’s voice sang out from her bed chamber. She leaned her head out into the common room and elaborated, “Sent an owl to my mother earlier this morning. She will forward information from the online stores by the end of the week. I’m also having her include ties from the World Wildlife Fund, Nature Conservancy, Audubon Society and any other ‘green’ organization that she can recall… I already have you down for one with turtles on it, Remus,” she added with a grin.
“My image would suffer so without you, Hermione,” Lupin remarked. “Thanks.”
“How about including that organization of Flitwick’s?” came Ron’s suggestion as he joined them from his doorway on the opposite side of the room. “I think it’s called the Puffin Preservation League.”
“Do they even have ties?” Hermione posed. “Seems like it’s a rather small group, but I’ll look into it.”
“Excuse me, Hermione,” Lupin broke in, “I always got the impression that the Puffin League was essentially a social club.”
“Drinking club, more like,” Ginny added sardonically.
“I heard the Headmistress comment that the League had great economic impact on the small fishing villages along the northern coast and sea islands,” Ron supplied with authority.
“Just frequenting the pubs would do that!” Harry rejoined as he and Ginny dissolved into laughter.
“I’ll leave you to it then.” Lupin waved cheerily as he ducked out.
“It’s good to see you, Gin.” Harry smiled into her sparkling eyes. “Can I interest you in a bit of lunch?”
“I had something earlier, thanks,” she replied. “I have Quidditch practice in a little while and I’ll regret it if I’ve eaten too much…. Still, toasted cheese sandwiches, I didn’t see those in the Great Hall earlier.”
“The Headmistress ordered them for me as a special treat,” Harry supplied in between bites. “I wanted to eat them while they were still hot before I went searching for you.”
“Seems Lupin beat you to the punch.”
“That’s not unusual; I’ve stopped letting it bother me,” Harry admitted wryly. Just having Ginny sitting on the sofa next to him seemed to make the phantoms of the previous night recede. “I spent most of last night thinking about you,” he dared to whisper as he traced the outline of her cheek with his finger. Suddenly, the air in the room seemed stifling hot.
Even when she had broken away from the kiss, Ginny held Harry’s gaze like a magnet. “Please tell me what happened last night,” she implored softly. “Remus ducked out completely, saying that it was your tale to tell.”
“I’m afraid he doesn’t have the complete story,” Harry admitted regretfully, “and I’m not sure I can tell you everything either, Ginny. You’ll excuse me if I have to gloss over some parts, won’t you?”
“I don’t suppose I have much choice, do I?”
Keep it in broad brush strokes Harry reminded himself, there’s no use in unduly worrying her. “You remember the special project that I told you about, the one that I was working on for Dumbledore?” He waited for her nod before he continued, “I was handling one of the objects and didn’t realize that there was a small hole in my glove --”
He could tell by the look in Ginny’s eyes that she had leapt ahead in the narrative as she jumped up to consult the open Potions book on the side table. It had been purposely left open to the Poisons chapter to foster the assumption that they had consulted it before seeking Slughorn’s assistance.
Ginny looked up at him with frightened eyes. “You were poisoned! Oh, Harry…” She looked lost, all of her customary bravado evaporating into thin air.
“It’s all right, Ginny,” Harry breathed into her hair as he wrapped his arms around her protectively. “Professor Slughorn prepared an antidote. Other than some pretty wild nightmares, I’m really fine.”
He was not prepared for the vehement manner in which she broke out of his embrace.
“How can you just stand there saying everything’s fine?” she cried angrily. “What part of an accidental poisoning seems trivial to you -- because it certainly doesn’t seem that way to me! Lupin looks like he’s been up half the night, worrying and fretting…”
“He probably was.” Harry sighed. “That was sometime after I’d taken the antidote. I don’t have much memory--”
“And come to think of it, Harry, how did Lupin horn his way into this anyway? Didn’t you say that it was Dumbledore’s express wish that you involve only Ron and Hermione in this project?”
Harry felt as if this conversation was rapidly sliding downhill, but he didn’t know how to get it back on track.
“It was Hermione who called for Lupin sometime in the night,” he explained patiently. “She was frightened that I wasn’t responding quickly enough to the antidote. She didn’t need to give Lupin any of the details about the project.”
“And that suited Lupin just fine, I’m sure,” Ginny scoffed.
“Probably not, but he accepted it. Hermione says she was at her wit’s end by then; they had more immediate concerns. But put that out of your mind today, there’s no point in worrying--”
“Of course there’s no point in worrying about it today,” Ginny seethed. “I should’ve been worrying about it last night! How dare you think I would’ve rather slept peacefully through the night! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO MAKE THOSE DECISIONS FOR ME!”
“Ginny, please,” Harry implored, “this isn’t solving anything. I didn’t make half of the decisions that have you so upset.” He stopped himself from laying the blame at Hermione’s feet. He had no doubt Hermione had heard Ginny’s words clearly enough from the other room “ not that he was going to mention that, either!
When he saw that Ginny had started crying silently, he engulfed her in his arms again and let her sob against his shoulder. “I would’ve given just about anything to have you with me last night “ even if it seems selfish in retrospect,” he assured her.
“Not that we would’ve let him,” Hermione intoned from her doorway. “Forgive me for overhearing, but neither one of you is approaching this very logically.”
Harry could feel that Ginny was gearing up for a sharp retort but he shook his head to forestall her. “What makes you say that, Hermione?” he offered diplomatically.
“Firstly, Ginny, how can you expect any one of us to retrieve you… in the middle of the bloody night… from a dorm full of five or six other girls… without causing pandemonium?” Hermione was pacing her words to keep from lashing out. “I called on Lupin because I could do so by sending him a Patronus message directly and no one else would be involved.”
“We cannot draw undue attention to ourselves, Ginny,” Harry stressed softly. “This matter is too important.”
“Sounds to me like this matter is too dangerous,” Ginny amended.
“I confided that to you from the start,” Harry reminded her. “The people that have become peripherally involved are still primarily in the dark about the whole thing “ and it’s essential that it stays that way for now. I’ve told you more details than anyone else.”
“No wonder Lupin identified himself as a supporting player,” Ginny remarked. “You must be driving him crazy with this whole thing, you know.”
“I suspect he’s used to it by now,” Harry muttered.
“I really don’t have the luxury of arguing anymore right now “ not if I intend to maintain my equanimity for Quidditch practice,” Ginny stated flatly. Then turning back at the exit, she added, “But mark my words, Harry James Potter, we are not finished with this!”
As the sconce closed behind the defiant swirl of Ginny’s mane, Harry shook his head ruefully. “That did not go as well as I would’ve liked,” he observed to no one in particular.
Ron poked his head out of his bed chamber to volunteer, “Hermione’s right about Ginny’s reaction being unreasonable. You should’ve reminded her that she would’ve been repulsed by the stinging hex when she tried to come to your side.”
“That would just have made her madder!” Hermione decried.
Harry sighed at his predicament. “Ginny’s right, you know. How would you have felt if it had been Ron that was poisoned, Hermione? Or vice versa, Ron? This situation has been unfair to Ginny from the start “ I should never have expected her to accept such restrictions.”
“At least she didn’t break up with you,” suggested Ron.
“If she had, it would just have been one more thing that I needed to put right,” Harry intoned wearily.
With the distant sounds of Quidditch practice drifting through his open window, Harry sat down to finish arranging the last photographs into his new album. It was an activity he found uniquely calming in tumultuous moments. As he fiddled with the arrangement of the final group, he was drawn to his pile of discarded images.
The topmost photo showed him onstage at the Halloween Ball, but due to the manner in which the facial skins twisted light rays, it was hardly a pleasing shot. The ghoulish creature before him, faceless and soulless, was the personification of the despair he had tapped for that evening’s portrayal. The resemblance to a dementor was uncanny.
Harry was surprised he had not made the connection sooner. Perhaps if he had, he would’ve approached so many things differently in the intervening months. There was no longer any doubt in his mind that giving into his deepest fears just made them spread their dark tendrils into every corner of his life. He’d spent months fighting a formless, nameless enemy that was simply a fabrication of his own mind. He’d allowed it to sap so much of his potential happiness, he thought to himself.
“I’ve been looking at everything wrong!” Harry moaned, not realizing that he’d said the words aloud.
“What’s that, mate?” Ron called through the open door to his room. “Didn’t quite catch it.”
“Sorry,” Harry replied. “Didn’t realize I’d spoken out loud…. I was just saying that I couldn’t believe I’d been so wrong-headed.”
“Before I agree with you whole-heartedly, would you mind elaborating?” Ron laughed.
“This whole thing with Ginny…. I haven’t been handling it very well.”
“When it comes to women, I’m hardly the expert.” Ron grinned sardonically.
“Still, it seems so obvious in retrospect,” Harry explained. “All these months I’ve been so caught up in what I dreaded the future might hold, that I’ve allowed it to keep me from fully experiencing the present. It’s as if I’ve already handed Voldemort a partial victory by allowing him to darken my day-to-day existence. Granted, each new day carries an inherent risk, but isn’t it like that for all of us to some degree? Even though there are times when the risk seems disproportionate in my case, is that any reason to deny myself a bit of happiness in the meanwhile?”
“So what are you going to do about it?” Ron asked expectantly.
“I’m going to do what I should have done it in the first place; I’m going to give her what she wants. Merlin knows, it’s what I want, too….I suppose it’s what you’ve been telling me all along…”
“So what if it is?” Ron shrugged good-naturedly. “There are some things you just have to work out for yourself.”
Having finally taken a decisive stance, Harry was surprised at the inexplicable feeling of liberation that accompanied it. For the moment, it seemed like all his troubles had disappeared with a simple snap of his fingers. It was likely they would find him once again, he noted ruefully, but he was determined to wring the maximum enjoyment out of his carefree moments.
As the rudiments of an idea began to form, Harry set out to intercept Ginny between classes. She spied him immediately as she entered the main building from the greenhouses and quickly made her excuses to her two companions. Although he did not catch any of her words other than “unfinished business with this reprobate”, Harry couldn’t help smiling in response. By her inflection, it was clear that Ginny used the word “reprobate” as a term of endearment. He could live with that, he decided, unconsciously grimacing at the memory of “Won-Won”.
He opened a low side door that lead into a small alcove in the courtyard. With the vines in full flower, the latticework provided a small screen of privacy from passersby. The air felt unexpectedly cool next to the stonework of the castle walls; it would be late afternoon before the sun’s rays warmed this particular spot. With some difficulty, Harry suppressed an instinctive shiver as he felt himself drawn into the depths of Ginny’s eyes.
Hesitantly, he wet his papery lips before beginning, “Our conversation yesterday… didn’t really… things got out of control… don’t give up on me.” Stars, he was hopeless, Harry chided himself. With a deep breath, he finally composed his thoughts enough to say, “Just an apology doesn’t seem adequate. Give me an opportunity to make things up to you, please.”
Somehow the earnestness in his gaze must have convinced her, because her smile broadened as she replied, “Just as long as we understand that was the lamest apology on record!” Her soft laugh was melodic as she laid her head softly on his shoulder. “What did you have in mind?” she whispered, her warm breath teasing his neck.
Self-consciously, Harry backed up half a step to keep his wits about him. “This Friday night at nine…. I will call for you…. Wear the dress.”
“Which dress?” she breathed.
“The fancy one that Tonks’ mum gave you. I would love to see you in that.”
“All right.” Ginny’s eyes lit up in anticipation. “And you’ll come to the common room to get me?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to give me any other details?”
“No,” Harry whispered tantalizingly in her ear.
Knowing he had precious few days to put his plan in order, Harry consoled himself that it was so streamlined that only the assistance of Dobby, the house-elf, would be required. He could not think of anyone better suited to keep things under wraps.
Now if he could just get in another practice session with Tonks.
Harry Potter and the Hero's Lament by L A Moody
Chapter Notes: The Headmistress weighs in; Lupin’s cover story convinces everyone except Ginny