7. Remus (and Sirius)
–Hello, Ron. Bill said you wanted a word?â€
–Professor Lupin!â€
Lupin shook his head, smiling faintly. –Remus will do, Ron, I haven’t taught you for years. Now what’s this about?â€
As Remus joined Ron on the stone wall that formed one edge of The Burrow’s garden, the redhead talked as though he hadn’t for weeks. It was really too cold to sit for long, though, so it was only a few minutes before they both stood and headed back inside.
–I’ll see what I can do,†Remus said quietly to Ron as they entered the kitchen, –but I can’t promise anything.â€
Avoiding the hubbub of Order members and Weasley family thronging the ground floor, Remus made his way to the staircase. He climbed slowly to the top floor, pausing every now and then to catch his breath. Full moon had only been a few days ago, and every month it seemed to take him longer to recover.
When he reached the door which still bore the words ‘Ronald’s Room’ on it in peeling paint, he knocked gently. There was no response. He opened the door and entered quietly.
–Hello, Harry.â€
The room was dim, with only one small candle lit on the bedside table, but Remus saw Harry’s head turn at his voice.
–Remus?†the younger man said softly. He sounded surprised. Remus walked the few steps across the small attic room and sat down in the chair by the bed.
–Yes, it’s me,†he said. –I’m sorry I haven’t been able to see you before. The Order’s been so busy… but it’s quieter now. The Auror department has finally pulled itself together, which means we’ve got a lot less to do.â€
–That’s good,†Harry replied. He was lying on his side, facing away from Remus, and his voice was disturbingly fragile. Remus considered him.
–Harry, can you turn over?†he asked. There was a long pause, and then the younger man began to turn over. His movements were jerky and uncomfortable; Remus winced in sympathy and almost told him to stop, but he held himself back. It was better that Harry moved.
Now that Remus could see Harry’s face, he could see how pale and exhausted he looked.
–How are you feeling?â€
–I’m okay. Just tired.†A blatant lie which Remus recognised immediately. How could he not? Hadn’t he, every month at Hogwarts, said the same thing to James and Sirius? He leant back, his hands on the arms of the chair, and waited for Harry to meet his eyes. When he didn’t, he decided to try another approach.
–I was glad to hear you came downstairs on Christmas day,†he said. –Everyone was very pleased to see you.†This got a reaction; the younger man looked guilty. But he didn’t say anything. Remus continued.
–Madam Pomfrey seems to think you’re improving. This new year, when it starts in,†he consulted his watch, –about three hours, should see you up and about and back to normal, which is good.†Harry still wouldn’t meet Remus’s eyes, but he paled slightly. Remus sighed.
–Harry, you’re not in trouble,†he said, leaning forward. –But you’ve barely left this room since you woke up, and that was almost two months ago. If there’s something wrong, you need to talk to someone. We all just want you to be alright -â€
–And I’m trying to be, okay?†Harry said abruptly, looking at Remus and then away again. –I’m really trying, I’m sorry.†His words weren’t angry or sarcastic; they were serious, and Remus frowned.
–Harry…†he stopped, and tried to work out what to say next. He thought back to those days he had spent, lying in the hospital wing, James and Sirius beside him. James, with his all but flawless home life and whose greatest problem consisted of being turned down by Lily Evans, had never known what to say. But Sirius had.
–Harry, look at me,†he said firmly. Warily, the teen met his eyes. Remus gave him a faint smile, and picked his words carefully.
–Harry, if you want to, you can stay in here forever,†he said. –The Weasleys would be content to look after you, and if they weren’t, I would be. You don’t have to do anything, not if you don’t want to. You could spend the rest of your life shutting the world out, and you wouldn’t lose a single friend.â€
Harry looked uncertain at the sincerity in Remus’s voice. The older man continued.
–It’s important that you understand the position you’re in, Harry,†he said quietly. –You don’t have to do anything. You can choose whatever you want to. All I and the Weasleys and Hermione want is for you to feel happy, and safe.â€
He let this sink in.
–But,†Harry said eventually, –everyone would be…†he trailed off.
–Disappointed?†Remus finished for him, and Harry nodded. Remus shrugged. –Not in you. In the war and the things that happened, maybe. But it wouldn’t change how they feel about you.â€
Harry frowned.
–You can do anything you want to do, Harry,†Remus said. –Think about it. What do you want? Honestly?â€
There was a long pause. Remus could here people laughing and talking downstairs, and remembered Sirius talking earnestly to him in the hospital wing.
What do you want, Mooney?
–I knew I was going to die.â€
Harry’s words were hesitant. Remus didn’t interrupt him, just met his eyes and waited for him to continue.
–I knew it, all that year. I didn’t just think it was going to happen. I was so sure. And I didn’t want - I’ve never wanted, I don’t want to die. I just knew it was going to happen and I… sort of… accepted it.†Harry sounded shaken as he spoke, as though the true meaning of his thoughts hadn’t been clear to him until he had spoken aloud. –I stopped thinking about what could happen afterwards, because thinking about getting old and doing things; it hurt.†He swallowed.
–There was the fight, and I knew it would be the end of it,†he continued, almost in a whisper. –I remember going down and knowing we’d won, and then - and then -â€
–And then you woke up.†Remus felt a familiar ache of sadness in his chest. The boy in front of him was eighteen, and he’d already been through so much. Too much. Lily, James, I am so sorry. I should have done more.
Harry nodded slightly.
–Everything was so hard, but it was sort of okay because I knew it wouldn’t last. Now everything… I know it’s stupid,†he said, sounding frustrated with himself, –I know, but I thought if I did make it, everything would be better. But it’s just as hard -â€
He stopped and closed his mouth tightly. Remus moved to sit on the edge of the bed, and helped Harry to sit up a better, before pulling him into a hug.
–I know, lad,†he said quietly. –I know it’s hard. And everyone expects you to be happy because it’s over, and you won, but all you can think of is what you lost.â€
The months after James and Lily had died had been the hardest Remus had ever known. The wizarding world was celebrating, and suspicious of anyone who wasn’t; Remus had lost his four closest friends in less than four days.
–I want to be okay,†murmured Harry into his shoulder, –I just don’t know how. And I’m tired of fighting.â€
Remus pulled back a little, and managed a real smile this time.
–You will be,†he said. –Remember - you’ve got all the time in the world. And we’re all behind you.â€
They sat together for sometime; and at midnight they watched the fireworks from the attic window.
~
8. Harry
The war had left a lot of scars.
Harry, sitting on the windowsill and looking out at the warm evening, was tired. But he was better than he had been.
It had been a very long year. The rebounding curse had kept him in bed, wavering between fever and chill, well into October. After that, well… Madam Pomfrey had said that he ought to start feeling better. But he hadn’t.
Physically he had been able to get up and about, but instead he had spent long days upon days still in bed, dozing fitfully or lying with his eyes half open counting the threads in the rug or the marks on the ceiling.
But that had been last year.
Now, today, was the last day of April. Tomorrow, the wizarding world would be celebrating the events of that time last year - the defeat of Lord Voldemort. There was to be a speech or four; the unveiling of a memorial in honour of those who had died; and Harry James Potter, Boy Who Lived and Chosen One, was to be awarded an Order of Merlin, First Class.
Well. If he chose to turn up, which was unlikely.
Harry allowed himself a small smile at the thought of Scrimgeour’s face when his poster boy was nowhere to be seen.
What do you want?
Remus had really woken him up on New Year’s Eve. It hadn’t changed anything drastically or immediately, but Harry had slowly begun to talk to Ron and Hermione and Ginny more. He found that it wasn’t as hard to go back to normal things as he had thought. After a month or so, Bill had offered to take him into Gringotts to look over his finances. Since he’d come of age, he had much more access to them than before. The foundations of his parents’ wealth - properties owned by the Potter family line - were now his responsibility. Perhaps it wouldn’t sound very interesting to some people, but Harry felt as though he could do without ‘interesting’ for a fair while. And watching Ron apply for Auror Academy and Hermione try for a place at the International Union of Spellcrafters would be enough to be going on with.
And then, there was the other thing.
The new thing.
Or not so new, actually, because when Harry looked back through the last few years it was amazing what he’d missed when he’d been so busy fighting for his life. But now he noticed it.
Sitting on the windowsill of the attic room that was still, technically, Ron’s, Harry looked at his hands. They looked perfectly ordinary as they always had, long-fingered and as pale as the rest of him, the only recent difference being the dark curse scar that ran across the palm of the right in the shape of a wand handle. He stared at them as he’d done so often in the last few months, turning them this way and that as though searching for something unfamiliar. Then, after a quick glance around to check there was no one watching, he snapped his fingers.
He wasn’t sure that the snapping was entirely necessary, but he stuck to it because something inside of him worried that if he started doing the thing without the snapping, then what if it started happening when he didn’t want it to? The words of his old headmaster came to mind. –It is the unknown we fear when we look upon death and darkness, nothing more.†Harry remembered not finding this particularly helpful at the time, but now… this new talent, if you could call it that, was the unknown, and its potential for damage scared him. What it could do. What it could mean. And yet on the other hand there was something oddly familiar and comforting about it, like it had been around his whole life and only just now decided to show its face.
Harry watched the little flame he had conjured without wand or spell dance across his fingertips. It didn’t burn. He snapped his fingers again and it went out.
Well, he thought, here’s to a new life.
~
The sequel to this story (and the full-length sequel to All for All) is finally being posted! Please see my profile for more details.
Thank you all for your support, I appreciate every favourite, follow, and review!
HK