Harry Potter was depressed. Of course, saying that Harry Potter is
depressed is like saying that the sky is blue or that the ocean is wet. Or
at least that's how it seemed to be lately. Harry had spent most of the
three weeks since the end of the term cooped up in his room. By choice,
mind you, since his aunt and uncle were so terrified by the warnings they'd
received when picking Harry up from King's Cross station. Frankly, he
hadn't much felt like going outside of his room. He didn't join the
Dursleys for meals (which was just as good as far as they were concerned),
didn't do any of yard work he had in the past, nor did he do much of
anything. Except write to the Order every three days to let them know he
was alright.
Harry stared out his window from the chair at his desk and sighed. Hedwig was still out delivering his latest note to the Order. She'd been somewhat miffed at him this summer, since he'd barely sent any messages with her. Harry had tried to explain to her that the Order had asked him to refrain from using Owl Post too much, as it could be intercepted. He'd reminded her of the previous year at school, when Hedwig had been attacked by Umbridge in an attempt to intercept his mail. Hedwig had hooted reassuringly at him, making him feel better, but she was still miffed at being so inactive. Never once did it occur to Harry how strange it would seem to have a conversation like that with his owl, but others did notice. Harry's cousin Dudley had caught part of the conversation and had fled in terror, which had caused a set of vibrations to move through the house like they had in that movie he'd seen once, Jurassic Park.
The sky outside the house on Privet Drive was a bright blue. Nary a single cloud in it to mar the constant weltering heat that beat down on the neighborhood. This had been one of the hottest summers Harry had remembered ever experiencing her and it was looking to get worse as there was no rain forthcoming in the forecasts. The lawns in the neighborhood had started to dry up and die, since the city administration had placed a ban on lawn watering until the drought had broken. Uncle Vernon had muttered murderously about this several times, but nothing had come of it and Privet Drive was slowly turning into a wasteland. Much like Harry's heart.
Harry felt empty. Throughout the year, he'd felt so many different emotions: rage, fear, anxiety, frustration. Now, however, he felt nothing. Not since the day after it had happened. Officially, the worst day of Harry Potter's life. The day his godfather, Sirius Black, had fallen through the arch in the Department of Mysteries to his death. He'd exploded in rage afterwards in Dumbledore's office, smashing delicate tools and artifacts to the floor. He really hadn't wanted to listen to what Dumbledore had to tell him, but he'd had no choice. Not that any of it made him feel any better. It had just proved that he'd been wrong to ever trust Dumbledore in the first place. Dumbledore had his own agenda and it always came first, be damned whoever got hurt in the meantime. But as it was now, Harry just couldn't summon up anything from inside him and that worried him. It worried him, but it also comforted him. There was peace in the numbness he felt. The pain of the memories was dulled, but never forgotten.
Harry hadn't written to Dumbledore once this summer. He'd received an odd note or two, asking Harry if he was willing to take the time in the summer to continue his Occlumency training, this time under Dumbledore's tutelage. Harry had balled that and tossed it in the trash. It had been joined by a few others before Dumbledore had stopped writing him. Harry didn't want to learn anything more about Occlumency right now. He didn't think he'd be able to take it if he had to relive those memories again; the way he had when he'd been practicing it with Professor Snape. He had started the exercises that Snape had been so adamant he practice on his own last year. They weren't difficult and they'd actually helped Harry learn to clear his mind and get to sleep easier. In fact, Harry hadn't had a Voldemort nightmare since he'd come home for the summer. He'd had lots of nightmares about Sirius, Umbridge and Cedric and even the odd dream about cows, flying saucers and Scott Beo, but none about Voldemort. Maybe the exercises were helping after all.
Harry closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, concentrating on clearing the emotion from his mind, on focusing his will into a wall that could be used to deflect a Legilimens attack on his mind. These exercises had made it easier and easier to do as time went on. He was almost able to go through the various steps without thinking about it anymore. That was good, Harry thought. Snape had wanted him to drill until the barrier could come up as a reflex. He snorted at the thought of doing something right in front of Snape. The image of Snape's face as he would have to commend Harry for his work all the while looking like he'd swallowed Neville's toad won a chuckle from Harry and his concentration shattered.
A soft flutter of wings called Harry's attention back to the window as Hedwig swooped into the room, circling it before landing on the desk. She stretched out a leg to Harry, and he could see the note attached to it. That's odd, Harry thought. Usually the order doesn't send a note back when I send my contact letter. Harry gingerly untied the note from Hedwig's leg, stroking her feathers in a silent thanks. Hedwig nipped his fingers affectionately before launching off the desk and diving into her cage where she helped herself to a long drink of water. Harry stared at the note in his hand for a moment before unfolding it.
Harry,
Sorry we haven't been able to allow you the correspondence you've
Probably been missing this summer, but we had our reasons. There's
A great deal that's been happening and the wizarding world has been
Turned upside down by it. I'll tell you more later, since we'll be coming
By to pick you up at 7:00 tomorrow morning.
Remus Lupin
Harry stared at the note hard enough to burn a hole through it. The Order was coming to pick him up in the morning. Which meant that he would be staying somewhere else for the rest of the summer. He froze as a thought suddenly flashed through his mind. There were only two places that could be safe enough to move him to without exposing him to Voldemort. One was Hogwarts, but that was unlikely. No students spent the summer holiday at Hogwarts. It wasn't permitted. Harry could remember the vision he'd gotten from Tom Riddle's diary about asking the then Professor of Transfiguration, Professor Dumbledore, if he could stay at Hogwarts that summer instead of returning to the orphanage he lived at.
The only other place that the Order would consider safe was the house at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry was sure that he didn't want to go back there ever again. He was sure that he would be overwhelmed by memories of Sirius if he ever set foot in that house again. He wouldn't be surprised if Dumbledore had retained that horrible Kreacher at the house. He was so worried about their security, he wouldn't send that miserable excuse for a house elf packing like he deserved. No, if the Order tried to take him back to Grimmauld Place, Harry would refuse to leave the Dursley's and that was that.
Harry dashed off a short note to Professor Lupin, letting him know that he would be expecting him the next morning. "Hedwig," he said softly, causing the owl to rotate her head to face him. "Can you take this back to Professor Lupin and make it back by morning? They're coming to get me, so I don't know where I'll be after that." Hedwig hooted reassuringly and presented a leg for him to tie his message to. Once it was secure, she flapped her wings and dived out the window, heading off into the great urban jungles that surrounded the suburbia of Little Whinging.
Harry watched her fly away, sad to see his only friend in this place disappear into the distance. He had really missed Ron and Hermione this summer. They had been with him down in the Department of Mysteries and they had been with him throughout most of his trials and tribulations. No one else had been through that much, no one else could really understand what he had gone through. A stay thought flashed across his mind and he remembered Ginny telling him off earlier that year when he'd condescended to her during a conversation over whether he'd been possessed by Voldemort or not. He'd been taken aback by that, although relieved when she had told him that he had not been possessed by Voldemort. She'd gone on to describe what it had felt like, which Harry was now intimately familiar with since Voldemort had possessed him in a last ditch effort to defeat Dumbledore.
Ginny was an interesting topic to think about. Far less heart- wrenching than thinking about Sirius, at least. He'd been glad to see how she'd seemed to come out of her shell this past year. For years, Ron, Fred and George had regaled Harry with stories of how Ginny acted at home. How she was as hot-tempered, talkative and mischievous as the rest of the Weasley clan. She'd never shown that side around Harry before, though, so he'd been inclined to doubt them. This last year had been an eye-opener. It made him realize that a lot of Ginny' reticence had been the lingering effects of the crush she'd had on him since before they'd actually met. Obviously, she'd gotten past that since she'd had a boyfriend for at least part of the year. The funny thing was that it seemed she'd had as much bad luck in her relationship with Michael Corner as he had in his abortive relationship with Cho Chang. Maybe he should talk to her about what they were doing wrong, he mused with a self-deprecating smirk.
Of course, Ginny had made an off-hand comment on the train last year that she was thinking of going out with Dean Thomas. She'd obviously taken her breakup much more lightly than Harry had taken his. He hadn't thought about any girl in a seriously romantic way since he'd had the rather publicly humiliating break up. Well, there'd been the standard dreams and fantasies about the girls he'd known over his years at Hogwarts. Some of those had been embarrassing and some had horrified him. He'd never joined in with the other boys in his dorm when they'd shared details of the dreams. After all, who'd want to admit that they'd had a dream about Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode being "affectionate." Harry still shuddered at the memory of that one. He wondered why he was cursed with always being able to remember his dreams in detail. Everyone else he knew could only remember vague details, but for Harry they were always there in his memory, crystal clear.
Harry shook his head to clear it before "that" particular dream resurfaced. He knew that it was normal to fantasize about girls, but it seemed somehow wrong to dream about Ginny that way. Not that his dream about Ginny had been like the others. The others had been primarily sexual, laced heavily with things he remembered from magazines that had been passed around the boys dorm (Fred and George had provided them for a slight fee to the younger years) and from the magazines he'd seen Dudley hiding. Dudley had the really strange ones where they talked about tying people up and hurting people for pleasure. They'd sickened Harry, but he'd found himself drawn to them with a strange fascination. It was like when Muggles would always stop on the highway in their cars to stare at some particularly gruesome traffic accident. No his dreams about Ginny had been odd. There had been sex in them, he was a teenager after all, but most of them was taken up with talking, or cuddling, or playing games with her that always wound up with the two of them doing something very pleasant.
The dreams with Ginny in them always left him feeling warm inside, even though he thought it was embarrassing to be dreaming something like that about your best friend's little sister, someone who was almost like sister to himself. He wasn't sure how he would be able to look her in the face anymore without seeing some of the images his fantasies would conjure up. He chuckled slightly as he realized that it would be a lot like how she'd reacted to him when he'd first come to the Burrow four years ago. It was troubling, since the dreams about Ginny had become more frequent of late. Almost as if his subconscious was trying to tell him something. Naw, that couldn't be it.
Harry turned back to his desk and the books he had piled there this morning, hoping to get some reading done before the term began. Of course, he still didn't know what classes he was going to be taking, or if there would be summer assignments due at the beginning of the year. He hadn't received his OWL results yet, so he had no idea whether or not he was going to be able to take the classes he needed to get into auror training. He was pretty sure that he would qualify for the NEWT level Transfiguration, Charms and Defense classes, but he was worried about how he'd done on the Potions exam.
It wasn't that Harry really wanted to take NEWT level Potions, but Professor McGonagall had told him that it was a requirement for entry into auror training. Just what he needed, two more years of Snape taking every opportunity to berate and pick on him. If he made it into the class, that is. Harry wasn't sure how well he'd done on the exam, after all he'd spent five years under the tutelage of a man who hated him with a passion. Most of what he'd actually learned about potions had come from his own studies or what he'd learned from Hermione while they were cramming for their OWLs. But still, it couldn't hurt to prepare just in case he got into the class, so he picked up one of the texts and started to read.
* *
*
*
Remus Lupin stared at the short note that Hedwig had just brought him. The sun was setting, leaving a streaking of reds and oranges across the horizon. Hedwig shifted impatiently on the sill of the window, waiting to find out if he had a return message for her master, or whether she could just go back to him now.
"Go on back to Harry, Hedwig," Remus said. "I'm sure he needs the company right now. Merlin only knows how those Muggle relatives are treating him. We did our best to put the fear of god into them, but you never can tell. From everything Harry told me about them, I wouldn't be surprised if they still mistreated him." As Remus stopped, Hedwig hooted and lifted off from the sill, heading back out the window and home to her wizard.
Remus moved across the room and collapsed onto the battered couch that adorned his living room. It was very bare and tattered, a telling sign of his monetary situation, but it held comfortable memories. This was where he'd lived before Harry was born. Sirius, James and Lily had often come to visit him when he was recovering from the full moon. Sirius usually stayed for a full week around the full moon to take care of him. James hadn't been able to once he'd married, since Lily had become pregnant so quickly. It had startled them, actually, since James' family had a history of being slow to procreate. His parents had tried for five years before James was conceived and Harry was in the works on the wedding night.
When Harry had been born, Dumbledore had come to visit James and Lily at their home in Godric's Hollow. Remus had not been privy to the discussion held there that night, but it was not long after that when James had confided to Sirius, Peter and himself that he was going into hiding. He had also asked Sirius to be their secret keeper that night. Sirius hadn't answered, but it was obvious to everyone that it would be him. He was a strong wizard, very knowledgeable about hexes and curses and a trained auror. Why wouldn't he do this to protect his best friends? The next few months had been incredibly tense for Remus. The wizarding world was panicking and suspicion was running rampant. It shouldn't have surprised Remus when Sirius started jumping at shadows and accused him of being an agent of the Death Eaters. He was, after all, a werewolf and various creatures that were oppressed by the wizarding world rose to side with Voldemort, including a large number of werewolves. It shouldn't have surprised him, but it had. The argument that had ensued led to Remus retreating to his parent's old home in Scotland. That was where he was when he heard the news. James and Lily dead. Harry orphaned. Voldemort disappeared. Peter dead. Sirius sentenced to Azkaban for the deaths of thirteen muggles, Peter and the betrayal of James and Lily to Voldemort. And Harry, poor little Harry being sent to live with Lily's muggle sister, Petunia.
In the course of a month, Remus' world had been destroyed. It had been years before he'd really done anything other than survive. He hadn't really started living again until Dumbledore had convinced him to take the Defense Against Dark Arts position at Hogwarts. Until he'd met Harry again. When he saw Harry that first day on the train, the day the dementors attacked, it had been like seeing James again. He had the same glasses, the same unruly black hair, the same wiry frame. But the eyes had been purely Lily. It had been the eyes that had brought him back to life. Those blindingly bright green eyes, so full of pain that they brought out every protective instinct Remus had.
Harry had been everything Remus had hoped he would be and more. He was a true Gryffindor to the depths of his soul. Dumbledore had told Remus of the events surrounding the Philosopher's Stone and the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. He'd even told Remus about Tom Riddle's diary. That had been a shock to Remus. Tom Riddle had been a legend at Hogwarts in his parents day. He had been the one to end the terror from the Chamber of Secrets the first time, but he'd vanished after graduating. No one had known what happened to him. It was nearly fifteen years later that Voldemort had begun his rise to power, by then no one even remembered the name Tom Riddle. To think of how Harry had faced him down, not once, but twice before Remus had met him was astounding.
That year had brought Remus back to life, given him purpose again. Harry had come to him with problems, especially the ones he'd had with dementors. Remus had never been more proud when Harry had mastered the Patronus charm. It was above OWL level and he'd mastered a corporeal one in his third year. That was exceptional and Remus had loved teaching Harry. Harry was bright and quick, when he chose to exert himself. Just like his father.
There had also been Sirius' escape from Azkaban. Remus had been convinced of Sirius' guilt and had worried that he was out to finish the job his master had started twelve years before. But the confrontation with Sirius and Peter in the Shrieking Shack had restored one more important part of his life. One of his best friends was back. One of the people who knew what he was and accepted him for it. He'd been bursting with joy when Harry had helped Sirius escape the Dementor's Kiss after Peter escaped. Remus was amazed at how close Sirius and Harry had become so quickly. Remus himself had not bonded with Harry in the same way. Remus started his acquaintanceship with Harry as a teacher. Sirius started out as his godfather.
Remus lay back on the couch, putting his legs up over the far arm and laying his forearm across his eyes. He sighed as he considered the events of the last two years. After he lost the Defense position at Hogwarts due to the prejudice of the parents, Dumbledore had asked him to do some work for him on the continent. He'd heard rumors of Voldemort on the continent and wanted Remus to take Sirius and investigate them. When Harry was entered into the Tri-Wizard tournament, Sirius returned to England, leaving Remus to sift through the clues. He'd returned for the Third Task and saw Harry when he was returned with Cedric's body and the news that Voldemort was, once again, alive. Sirius had done his best to comfort him, but Dumbledore had sent them off on another mission almost immediately. He wanted them to contact the members of the Order of the Phoenix and let them know what had happened.
When they'd gone and retrieved Harry from the Dursley's that summer, Remus had been terrified for the boy. Someone in the ministry was out to get him and Voldemort was after the Prophecy that dealt with him and Harry. Dumbledore had forbidden the Order to tell Harry about the Prophecy, and it had chafed both himself and Sirius not to be honest with Harry. Sirius had been even worse because Dumbledore had forbidden him to leave headquarters. No one alive knew better than Remus how much Sirius despised his ancestral home. He'd ran away from his parents while he was still attending school and gone to live with James' family. Forcing Sirius to stay there was torture for him, but Dumbledore considered it the only way to keep him safe so Remus had kept quiet.
The whole chain of events that led to the battle in the Department of Mysteries was one of the things Remus didn't want to think about. Harry had suffered horribly that year under that evil woman that Fudge had installed at Hogwarts, Umbridge. Then, during the battle, Sirius fell through the Veil. Harry had tried to deny what had happened, but Remus knew what the veil was. Some members of the Order were Unspeakables and they'd told him afterward. It was an ancient artifact. No one knew where it had come from, but it was a direct gateway to the land of the dead, the afterlife. No one had ever returned from it, not even as a ghost.
And so, Remus had regained a friend only to lose him two years later. But at least he had two years with his best friend again and that was not something to be taken lightly. They'd had a second chance at life and lived it up to the fullest they could in the circumstances. While Remus mourned Sirius, it was not the all-consuming grief that it had been fourteen years ago.
Remus closed his eyes, trying to relax enough to get some sleep. He had to pick up Harry in the morning and he needed to be rested.
* *
* *
Albus Dumbledore sat in his office with a sad look in his eyes. Gazing around the room, he saw the empty tables where delicate instruments of silver, crystal and mist had once sat. Harry had destroyed them in a fit of rage. Rage against his fate. Rage against Dumbledore himself for the secrets he'd kept.
It worried Dumbledore that he had not heard from Harry since they had last spoken in his office. He needed to make sure that Harry continued his Occlumancy. It was important that he be able to keep his mind free of Voldemort's if he was ever to be able to defeat him. And Dumbledore, unlike many, knew that Voldemort was not the invincible bogeyman. He was still a man and made mistakes. Like he had during his resurrection, when he'd used Harry's blood as part of his new body. He'd unknowingly strengthened the link between the two of them and created a chink in the armor of invulnerability that he'd had. Before, nothing short of the Avada Kedavra curse could stop him, but by this further mingling of his power with Harry's, he'd created an opening that could be exploited.
But time had not seemed to have mellowed Harry's rage towards Dumbledore. He still blamed him for Sirius' death and for keeping the secret of prophecy as long as he had. Now, for the first time, Dumbledore began to wonder if he would ever be able to regain Harry's trust. That was the most painful part, since Dumbledore had begun to regard Harry as the son he'd never had. A bond of affection that could be a weakness if Harry maintained his anger.
"What am I going to do, Fawkes," Dumbledore asked the phoenix that sat on its perch in a corner of the office. "Harry is going to need my help, but how do I begin to regain his trust? How can I convince him to listen to me when I am partially to blame for the bad things that happened since his parents' deaths? It is a conundrum, my friend, and I worry that worse things may happen because of the mistakes I made. Perhaps I grew to care for Harry too much? But I dare anyone other than Severus to watch the boy as I have and not love him. Ah, sometimes fate can be cruel."
Fawkes offered no answer to Dumbledore's questions, but no answer had been expected. They both knew that for Harry to succeed, he would need the tutelage only Dumbledore could give him, but that tutelage required a great deal of trust. Trust that would have to start with earning Harry's forgiveness.
To be continued.
Author's note: Well, when I read OOTP, I decided to scrap my other Harry Potter story and try my hand at something after the new book. Man, I thought GOF had a lot of angst in it, but damn OOTP had it beat by a mile. Which made it perfect for the kind of story I wanted to write. I like the anger that Harry has. It's very intense at the end of the book and I can remember times in my life where I've felt similarly. I think this anger needs to be explored. As I read back through what I wrote, I notice that Remus seemed to portray more than friendly feelings for Sirius, but it is not slash. If you had lost all your friends at once and suddenly one of them comes back virtually from the dead, you emotions are going to be rather extreme. I just wanted to emphasize that. All characters in the story are going to be heterosexual, since that is how Rowling has presented them. As far as relationships go, it will be Ron and Hermione(eventually), Harry and Ginny(again eventually) and others as I decide on them. I hope everyone enjoys the story and I'll try and update soon, but I don't always write fast. The muse tends to leave me high and dry for months at a time. I really admire those people who can update their stories regularly. I wish I had the sustained creativity they exhibit.
hitobashira
Harry stared out his window from the chair at his desk and sighed. Hedwig was still out delivering his latest note to the Order. She'd been somewhat miffed at him this summer, since he'd barely sent any messages with her. Harry had tried to explain to her that the Order had asked him to refrain from using Owl Post too much, as it could be intercepted. He'd reminded her of the previous year at school, when Hedwig had been attacked by Umbridge in an attempt to intercept his mail. Hedwig had hooted reassuringly at him, making him feel better, but she was still miffed at being so inactive. Never once did it occur to Harry how strange it would seem to have a conversation like that with his owl, but others did notice. Harry's cousin Dudley had caught part of the conversation and had fled in terror, which had caused a set of vibrations to move through the house like they had in that movie he'd seen once, Jurassic Park.
The sky outside the house on Privet Drive was a bright blue. Nary a single cloud in it to mar the constant weltering heat that beat down on the neighborhood. This had been one of the hottest summers Harry had remembered ever experiencing her and it was looking to get worse as there was no rain forthcoming in the forecasts. The lawns in the neighborhood had started to dry up and die, since the city administration had placed a ban on lawn watering until the drought had broken. Uncle Vernon had muttered murderously about this several times, but nothing had come of it and Privet Drive was slowly turning into a wasteland. Much like Harry's heart.
Harry felt empty. Throughout the year, he'd felt so many different emotions: rage, fear, anxiety, frustration. Now, however, he felt nothing. Not since the day after it had happened. Officially, the worst day of Harry Potter's life. The day his godfather, Sirius Black, had fallen through the arch in the Department of Mysteries to his death. He'd exploded in rage afterwards in Dumbledore's office, smashing delicate tools and artifacts to the floor. He really hadn't wanted to listen to what Dumbledore had to tell him, but he'd had no choice. Not that any of it made him feel any better. It had just proved that he'd been wrong to ever trust Dumbledore in the first place. Dumbledore had his own agenda and it always came first, be damned whoever got hurt in the meantime. But as it was now, Harry just couldn't summon up anything from inside him and that worried him. It worried him, but it also comforted him. There was peace in the numbness he felt. The pain of the memories was dulled, but never forgotten.
Harry hadn't written to Dumbledore once this summer. He'd received an odd note or two, asking Harry if he was willing to take the time in the summer to continue his Occlumency training, this time under Dumbledore's tutelage. Harry had balled that and tossed it in the trash. It had been joined by a few others before Dumbledore had stopped writing him. Harry didn't want to learn anything more about Occlumency right now. He didn't think he'd be able to take it if he had to relive those memories again; the way he had when he'd been practicing it with Professor Snape. He had started the exercises that Snape had been so adamant he practice on his own last year. They weren't difficult and they'd actually helped Harry learn to clear his mind and get to sleep easier. In fact, Harry hadn't had a Voldemort nightmare since he'd come home for the summer. He'd had lots of nightmares about Sirius, Umbridge and Cedric and even the odd dream about cows, flying saucers and Scott Beo, but none about Voldemort. Maybe the exercises were helping after all.
Harry closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, concentrating on clearing the emotion from his mind, on focusing his will into a wall that could be used to deflect a Legilimens attack on his mind. These exercises had made it easier and easier to do as time went on. He was almost able to go through the various steps without thinking about it anymore. That was good, Harry thought. Snape had wanted him to drill until the barrier could come up as a reflex. He snorted at the thought of doing something right in front of Snape. The image of Snape's face as he would have to commend Harry for his work all the while looking like he'd swallowed Neville's toad won a chuckle from Harry and his concentration shattered.
A soft flutter of wings called Harry's attention back to the window as Hedwig swooped into the room, circling it before landing on the desk. She stretched out a leg to Harry, and he could see the note attached to it. That's odd, Harry thought. Usually the order doesn't send a note back when I send my contact letter. Harry gingerly untied the note from Hedwig's leg, stroking her feathers in a silent thanks. Hedwig nipped his fingers affectionately before launching off the desk and diving into her cage where she helped herself to a long drink of water. Harry stared at the note in his hand for a moment before unfolding it.
Harry,
Sorry we haven't been able to allow you the correspondence you've
Probably been missing this summer, but we had our reasons. There's
A great deal that's been happening and the wizarding world has been
Turned upside down by it. I'll tell you more later, since we'll be coming
By to pick you up at 7:00 tomorrow morning.
Remus Lupin
Harry stared at the note hard enough to burn a hole through it. The Order was coming to pick him up in the morning. Which meant that he would be staying somewhere else for the rest of the summer. He froze as a thought suddenly flashed through his mind. There were only two places that could be safe enough to move him to without exposing him to Voldemort. One was Hogwarts, but that was unlikely. No students spent the summer holiday at Hogwarts. It wasn't permitted. Harry could remember the vision he'd gotten from Tom Riddle's diary about asking the then Professor of Transfiguration, Professor Dumbledore, if he could stay at Hogwarts that summer instead of returning to the orphanage he lived at.
The only other place that the Order would consider safe was the house at Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry was sure that he didn't want to go back there ever again. He was sure that he would be overwhelmed by memories of Sirius if he ever set foot in that house again. He wouldn't be surprised if Dumbledore had retained that horrible Kreacher at the house. He was so worried about their security, he wouldn't send that miserable excuse for a house elf packing like he deserved. No, if the Order tried to take him back to Grimmauld Place, Harry would refuse to leave the Dursley's and that was that.
Harry dashed off a short note to Professor Lupin, letting him know that he would be expecting him the next morning. "Hedwig," he said softly, causing the owl to rotate her head to face him. "Can you take this back to Professor Lupin and make it back by morning? They're coming to get me, so I don't know where I'll be after that." Hedwig hooted reassuringly and presented a leg for him to tie his message to. Once it was secure, she flapped her wings and dived out the window, heading off into the great urban jungles that surrounded the suburbia of Little Whinging.
Harry watched her fly away, sad to see his only friend in this place disappear into the distance. He had really missed Ron and Hermione this summer. They had been with him down in the Department of Mysteries and they had been with him throughout most of his trials and tribulations. No one else had been through that much, no one else could really understand what he had gone through. A stay thought flashed across his mind and he remembered Ginny telling him off earlier that year when he'd condescended to her during a conversation over whether he'd been possessed by Voldemort or not. He'd been taken aback by that, although relieved when she had told him that he had not been possessed by Voldemort. She'd gone on to describe what it had felt like, which Harry was now intimately familiar with since Voldemort had possessed him in a last ditch effort to defeat Dumbledore.
Ginny was an interesting topic to think about. Far less heart- wrenching than thinking about Sirius, at least. He'd been glad to see how she'd seemed to come out of her shell this past year. For years, Ron, Fred and George had regaled Harry with stories of how Ginny acted at home. How she was as hot-tempered, talkative and mischievous as the rest of the Weasley clan. She'd never shown that side around Harry before, though, so he'd been inclined to doubt them. This last year had been an eye-opener. It made him realize that a lot of Ginny' reticence had been the lingering effects of the crush she'd had on him since before they'd actually met. Obviously, she'd gotten past that since she'd had a boyfriend for at least part of the year. The funny thing was that it seemed she'd had as much bad luck in her relationship with Michael Corner as he had in his abortive relationship with Cho Chang. Maybe he should talk to her about what they were doing wrong, he mused with a self-deprecating smirk.
Of course, Ginny had made an off-hand comment on the train last year that she was thinking of going out with Dean Thomas. She'd obviously taken her breakup much more lightly than Harry had taken his. He hadn't thought about any girl in a seriously romantic way since he'd had the rather publicly humiliating break up. Well, there'd been the standard dreams and fantasies about the girls he'd known over his years at Hogwarts. Some of those had been embarrassing and some had horrified him. He'd never joined in with the other boys in his dorm when they'd shared details of the dreams. After all, who'd want to admit that they'd had a dream about Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode being "affectionate." Harry still shuddered at the memory of that one. He wondered why he was cursed with always being able to remember his dreams in detail. Everyone else he knew could only remember vague details, but for Harry they were always there in his memory, crystal clear.
Harry shook his head to clear it before "that" particular dream resurfaced. He knew that it was normal to fantasize about girls, but it seemed somehow wrong to dream about Ginny that way. Not that his dream about Ginny had been like the others. The others had been primarily sexual, laced heavily with things he remembered from magazines that had been passed around the boys dorm (Fred and George had provided them for a slight fee to the younger years) and from the magazines he'd seen Dudley hiding. Dudley had the really strange ones where they talked about tying people up and hurting people for pleasure. They'd sickened Harry, but he'd found himself drawn to them with a strange fascination. It was like when Muggles would always stop on the highway in their cars to stare at some particularly gruesome traffic accident. No his dreams about Ginny had been odd. There had been sex in them, he was a teenager after all, but most of them was taken up with talking, or cuddling, or playing games with her that always wound up with the two of them doing something very pleasant.
The dreams with Ginny in them always left him feeling warm inside, even though he thought it was embarrassing to be dreaming something like that about your best friend's little sister, someone who was almost like sister to himself. He wasn't sure how he would be able to look her in the face anymore without seeing some of the images his fantasies would conjure up. He chuckled slightly as he realized that it would be a lot like how she'd reacted to him when he'd first come to the Burrow four years ago. It was troubling, since the dreams about Ginny had become more frequent of late. Almost as if his subconscious was trying to tell him something. Naw, that couldn't be it.
Harry turned back to his desk and the books he had piled there this morning, hoping to get some reading done before the term began. Of course, he still didn't know what classes he was going to be taking, or if there would be summer assignments due at the beginning of the year. He hadn't received his OWL results yet, so he had no idea whether or not he was going to be able to take the classes he needed to get into auror training. He was pretty sure that he would qualify for the NEWT level Transfiguration, Charms and Defense classes, but he was worried about how he'd done on the Potions exam.
It wasn't that Harry really wanted to take NEWT level Potions, but Professor McGonagall had told him that it was a requirement for entry into auror training. Just what he needed, two more years of Snape taking every opportunity to berate and pick on him. If he made it into the class, that is. Harry wasn't sure how well he'd done on the exam, after all he'd spent five years under the tutelage of a man who hated him with a passion. Most of what he'd actually learned about potions had come from his own studies or what he'd learned from Hermione while they were cramming for their OWLs. But still, it couldn't hurt to prepare just in case he got into the class, so he picked up one of the texts and started to read.
* *
*
*
Remus Lupin stared at the short note that Hedwig had just brought him. The sun was setting, leaving a streaking of reds and oranges across the horizon. Hedwig shifted impatiently on the sill of the window, waiting to find out if he had a return message for her master, or whether she could just go back to him now.
"Go on back to Harry, Hedwig," Remus said. "I'm sure he needs the company right now. Merlin only knows how those Muggle relatives are treating him. We did our best to put the fear of god into them, but you never can tell. From everything Harry told me about them, I wouldn't be surprised if they still mistreated him." As Remus stopped, Hedwig hooted and lifted off from the sill, heading back out the window and home to her wizard.
Remus moved across the room and collapsed onto the battered couch that adorned his living room. It was very bare and tattered, a telling sign of his monetary situation, but it held comfortable memories. This was where he'd lived before Harry was born. Sirius, James and Lily had often come to visit him when he was recovering from the full moon. Sirius usually stayed for a full week around the full moon to take care of him. James hadn't been able to once he'd married, since Lily had become pregnant so quickly. It had startled them, actually, since James' family had a history of being slow to procreate. His parents had tried for five years before James was conceived and Harry was in the works on the wedding night.
When Harry had been born, Dumbledore had come to visit James and Lily at their home in Godric's Hollow. Remus had not been privy to the discussion held there that night, but it was not long after that when James had confided to Sirius, Peter and himself that he was going into hiding. He had also asked Sirius to be their secret keeper that night. Sirius hadn't answered, but it was obvious to everyone that it would be him. He was a strong wizard, very knowledgeable about hexes and curses and a trained auror. Why wouldn't he do this to protect his best friends? The next few months had been incredibly tense for Remus. The wizarding world was panicking and suspicion was running rampant. It shouldn't have surprised Remus when Sirius started jumping at shadows and accused him of being an agent of the Death Eaters. He was, after all, a werewolf and various creatures that were oppressed by the wizarding world rose to side with Voldemort, including a large number of werewolves. It shouldn't have surprised him, but it had. The argument that had ensued led to Remus retreating to his parent's old home in Scotland. That was where he was when he heard the news. James and Lily dead. Harry orphaned. Voldemort disappeared. Peter dead. Sirius sentenced to Azkaban for the deaths of thirteen muggles, Peter and the betrayal of James and Lily to Voldemort. And Harry, poor little Harry being sent to live with Lily's muggle sister, Petunia.
In the course of a month, Remus' world had been destroyed. It had been years before he'd really done anything other than survive. He hadn't really started living again until Dumbledore had convinced him to take the Defense Against Dark Arts position at Hogwarts. Until he'd met Harry again. When he saw Harry that first day on the train, the day the dementors attacked, it had been like seeing James again. He had the same glasses, the same unruly black hair, the same wiry frame. But the eyes had been purely Lily. It had been the eyes that had brought him back to life. Those blindingly bright green eyes, so full of pain that they brought out every protective instinct Remus had.
Harry had been everything Remus had hoped he would be and more. He was a true Gryffindor to the depths of his soul. Dumbledore had told Remus of the events surrounding the Philosopher's Stone and the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. He'd even told Remus about Tom Riddle's diary. That had been a shock to Remus. Tom Riddle had been a legend at Hogwarts in his parents day. He had been the one to end the terror from the Chamber of Secrets the first time, but he'd vanished after graduating. No one had known what happened to him. It was nearly fifteen years later that Voldemort had begun his rise to power, by then no one even remembered the name Tom Riddle. To think of how Harry had faced him down, not once, but twice before Remus had met him was astounding.
That year had brought Remus back to life, given him purpose again. Harry had come to him with problems, especially the ones he'd had with dementors. Remus had never been more proud when Harry had mastered the Patronus charm. It was above OWL level and he'd mastered a corporeal one in his third year. That was exceptional and Remus had loved teaching Harry. Harry was bright and quick, when he chose to exert himself. Just like his father.
There had also been Sirius' escape from Azkaban. Remus had been convinced of Sirius' guilt and had worried that he was out to finish the job his master had started twelve years before. But the confrontation with Sirius and Peter in the Shrieking Shack had restored one more important part of his life. One of his best friends was back. One of the people who knew what he was and accepted him for it. He'd been bursting with joy when Harry had helped Sirius escape the Dementor's Kiss after Peter escaped. Remus was amazed at how close Sirius and Harry had become so quickly. Remus himself had not bonded with Harry in the same way. Remus started his acquaintanceship with Harry as a teacher. Sirius started out as his godfather.
Remus lay back on the couch, putting his legs up over the far arm and laying his forearm across his eyes. He sighed as he considered the events of the last two years. After he lost the Defense position at Hogwarts due to the prejudice of the parents, Dumbledore had asked him to do some work for him on the continent. He'd heard rumors of Voldemort on the continent and wanted Remus to take Sirius and investigate them. When Harry was entered into the Tri-Wizard tournament, Sirius returned to England, leaving Remus to sift through the clues. He'd returned for the Third Task and saw Harry when he was returned with Cedric's body and the news that Voldemort was, once again, alive. Sirius had done his best to comfort him, but Dumbledore had sent them off on another mission almost immediately. He wanted them to contact the members of the Order of the Phoenix and let them know what had happened.
When they'd gone and retrieved Harry from the Dursley's that summer, Remus had been terrified for the boy. Someone in the ministry was out to get him and Voldemort was after the Prophecy that dealt with him and Harry. Dumbledore had forbidden the Order to tell Harry about the Prophecy, and it had chafed both himself and Sirius not to be honest with Harry. Sirius had been even worse because Dumbledore had forbidden him to leave headquarters. No one alive knew better than Remus how much Sirius despised his ancestral home. He'd ran away from his parents while he was still attending school and gone to live with James' family. Forcing Sirius to stay there was torture for him, but Dumbledore considered it the only way to keep him safe so Remus had kept quiet.
The whole chain of events that led to the battle in the Department of Mysteries was one of the things Remus didn't want to think about. Harry had suffered horribly that year under that evil woman that Fudge had installed at Hogwarts, Umbridge. Then, during the battle, Sirius fell through the Veil. Harry had tried to deny what had happened, but Remus knew what the veil was. Some members of the Order were Unspeakables and they'd told him afterward. It was an ancient artifact. No one knew where it had come from, but it was a direct gateway to the land of the dead, the afterlife. No one had ever returned from it, not even as a ghost.
And so, Remus had regained a friend only to lose him two years later. But at least he had two years with his best friend again and that was not something to be taken lightly. They'd had a second chance at life and lived it up to the fullest they could in the circumstances. While Remus mourned Sirius, it was not the all-consuming grief that it had been fourteen years ago.
Remus closed his eyes, trying to relax enough to get some sleep. He had to pick up Harry in the morning and he needed to be rested.
* *
* *
Albus Dumbledore sat in his office with a sad look in his eyes. Gazing around the room, he saw the empty tables where delicate instruments of silver, crystal and mist had once sat. Harry had destroyed them in a fit of rage. Rage against his fate. Rage against Dumbledore himself for the secrets he'd kept.
It worried Dumbledore that he had not heard from Harry since they had last spoken in his office. He needed to make sure that Harry continued his Occlumancy. It was important that he be able to keep his mind free of Voldemort's if he was ever to be able to defeat him. And Dumbledore, unlike many, knew that Voldemort was not the invincible bogeyman. He was still a man and made mistakes. Like he had during his resurrection, when he'd used Harry's blood as part of his new body. He'd unknowingly strengthened the link between the two of them and created a chink in the armor of invulnerability that he'd had. Before, nothing short of the Avada Kedavra curse could stop him, but by this further mingling of his power with Harry's, he'd created an opening that could be exploited.
But time had not seemed to have mellowed Harry's rage towards Dumbledore. He still blamed him for Sirius' death and for keeping the secret of prophecy as long as he had. Now, for the first time, Dumbledore began to wonder if he would ever be able to regain Harry's trust. That was the most painful part, since Dumbledore had begun to regard Harry as the son he'd never had. A bond of affection that could be a weakness if Harry maintained his anger.
"What am I going to do, Fawkes," Dumbledore asked the phoenix that sat on its perch in a corner of the office. "Harry is going to need my help, but how do I begin to regain his trust? How can I convince him to listen to me when I am partially to blame for the bad things that happened since his parents' deaths? It is a conundrum, my friend, and I worry that worse things may happen because of the mistakes I made. Perhaps I grew to care for Harry too much? But I dare anyone other than Severus to watch the boy as I have and not love him. Ah, sometimes fate can be cruel."
Fawkes offered no answer to Dumbledore's questions, but no answer had been expected. They both knew that for Harry to succeed, he would need the tutelage only Dumbledore could give him, but that tutelage required a great deal of trust. Trust that would have to start with earning Harry's forgiveness.
To be continued.
Author's note: Well, when I read OOTP, I decided to scrap my other Harry Potter story and try my hand at something after the new book. Man, I thought GOF had a lot of angst in it, but damn OOTP had it beat by a mile. Which made it perfect for the kind of story I wanted to write. I like the anger that Harry has. It's very intense at the end of the book and I can remember times in my life where I've felt similarly. I think this anger needs to be explored. As I read back through what I wrote, I notice that Remus seemed to portray more than friendly feelings for Sirius, but it is not slash. If you had lost all your friends at once and suddenly one of them comes back virtually from the dead, you emotions are going to be rather extreme. I just wanted to emphasize that. All characters in the story are going to be heterosexual, since that is how Rowling has presented them. As far as relationships go, it will be Ron and Hermione(eventually), Harry and Ginny(again eventually) and others as I decide on them. I hope everyone enjoys the story and I'll try and update soon, but I don't always write fast. The muse tends to leave me high and dry for months at a time. I really admire those people who can update their stories regularly. I wish I had the sustained creativity they exhibit.
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