”But I don't understand, sir!” said Hermione loudly. Professor Lupin raised a bemused eyebrow. ”We were with the troll, sir! And professor Quirrel was looking for it too so how could he have gotten hurt?” There was a loud sigh from some of the students. They seemed to be divided between those who still spoke of Harry, Ron and Hermione as heroes who survived a troll and others who did not believe it and insisted the teachers had arrived before Hermione and Ron said they did and that the first years were just full of themselves. Of course every mention Hermione and specifically Ron made of it was taken as boasting by this group.

”He had an accident as he disposed of the troll, as has been explained, now today I thought we might discuss...” Lupin continued.

”But it was unconscious! I saw you knock it out!” Hermione objected and a group of students oo'ed.

Harry covered his eyes. He was still slightly groggy but had insisted he was not in order to get out of the infirmary. When he was there he felt caged and like everything happened without him. He rubbed his temples and blocked out the discussion currently taking place in the DADA class.

”Harry?” said a voice just above him and Harry was startled and snapped his face up to look at Lupin who now stood in front of his desk. ”Are you alright? Do you need to go back to the hospital wing?” said the man gently. Harry blinked. Why does he keep calling me Harry? But he was not even sure he wanted to know the answer to that. There was something terribly sinister about him to Harry. And he still did not know what the man had been creeping around the castle at night for or who he had gone to see.

”Uh, no, I'm fine... Sir,” Harry replied quietly and sent Hermione a pleading look but got only a concerned expression in return. The substitute teacher of dubious character nodded and returned to begin the lecture on some small fairylike creature but Harry was not listening.

”I think he's great,” said Neville later as they were all four sat around a small table in the common room. ”I wish he had stayed in potions though,” the blonde boy admitted nervously. Harry could not blame him. While his potion skills had not exactly improved with Lupin, he was less distraught without Snape constantly pointing out to him that he was useless at it. And since Lupin had not said anything when Hermione helped Neville, the classroom had suffered no explosions or meltings for a change. Neville soon left them in a hurry when he spotted Trevor hopping out of the portrait hole in hot pursuit of two sixth years. ”Are you okay, Harry?” said Ron. ”They say Snape came back while you were in the infirmary, did you hear?”

”Shh! Ron! I don't think Harry is feeling well,” hushed Hermione.

”It's fine, Hermione. I just... I feel really confused, that's all. That Lupin guy, do you... do think he's alright?” Harry said without revealing too much. Ron declared his support of the new substitute with a chocolate frog in his mouth. ”I suppose,” said Hermione thoughtfully but Harry could see the struggle within her between her inclination to be respectful and speak well of teachers – especially ones who saved her from trolls and her dislike for anyone who kept any sort of information from her.

The morning two days later Harry and Ron both woke up to find themselves the only ones still in bed. ”Bloody hell, Harry! We slept through breakfast!” said Ron with as much fear as sorrow in his voice. ”Come on, hurry up!” Harry groaned as he got out of bed. It was never fun to have a rude awakening and not be able to wake up properly at your own pace nor eat breakfast. Some people did not really need to eat breakfast and Harry had definitely learned how to go without over the years but that did not mean he did not want it if he could! The two boys dressed as quickly as they could and hurried out of the common room.

Ron seemed to have a bit more wind than Harry who tried to keep up with his friend despite panting. Ron looked back at him and yelled: ”Harry, come on! McGonagall is going to k.. Hrmph!” Harry looked up just in time to see Ron running straight into someone and then promptly fall back and land on his behind. Harry slowed to a halt and barely kept his balance as his feet slid across the stone floors a short distance.

”Mr Weasley,” drawled a familiar voice. ”And Mr Potter too, I see.” Harry tried to cough a response but Snape merely arched an eyebrow at him and continued. ”Are you incapable of following school rules? Or perhaps you take such great pleasure in stampeding through the corridors that you believe an exception should be made for you?”

”Professor, we are late for..” Ron began defensively. ”Ah but of course! And you reasoned in your immense 11-year old wisdom that you might right one broken rule by breaking another? Get up!” sneered Snape and impatiently pulled Ron to his feet by the arm when he scrambled around on the floor.

”Severus, surely there is no harm done,” said another voice rather cheerfully behind them as professor Lupin emerged.

”No one here is in need of your rescue, Lupin,” huffed Snape. ”May I suggest you return to whatever you occupy your time with.”

”Harry, are you doing alright there,” said Lupin, completely ignoring Snape and instead turning his attention to Harry who had only just caught his breath. At the sound of Harry's name the potion master's expression soured considerably and he released Ron and stepped closer. ”His body is still attached to that empty head of his so as I was saying...”

”You look a little pale, perhaps..” Lupin continued gently, still ignoring Snape. But just as Harry opened his mouth to deny that, he felt Snape's long fingers wrapping themselves around his shoulders.

”If he is unwell, then I will naturally escort him to the infirmary,” Snape hissed. Now, Lupin turned his attention to his colleague and the two men locked eyes. Harry sent a pleading look to Ron who was just standing with wide eyes.

”Severus, surely...” Lupin began now much more assertively.

”I'm fine!” Harry suddenly exclaimed. ”We're just late for transfiguration.”

”Of course,” nodded professor Lupin. ”Would you like me to escort you there, boys? I'm certain Minerva would be understanding if..”

”Although I've seen plenty of evidence to the contrary,” Snape interrupted. ”I'm certain they are capable of making their own way to their classes – provided of course there are no obstructions in their path.”

”Yes, sir. Sorry,” said Harry hurriedly as he wiggled out of Snape's grasp and went over to Ron. Lupin cheerfully nodded at the boys while his dark clad colleague looked just about ready to murder him but neither Harry nor Ron had any desire to remain and witness it and took the chance to mumble their excuses and hurry along. ”Bloody hell, Harry! What do you reckon that was about?” said Ron just before they knocked on the classroom door.

”What do you mean?” said Harry hesitantly. He could still feel Snape's hands resting upon him – almost protectively, yet, Harry shuddered at the thought. He was so confused. Was Lupin up to something? Did Snape know? ”Mate! I just ran into the bat full force and he didn't even take points!” Ron said just as the door swung open.

In fact over the next week things only seemed to get stranger. Harry began to dread Defence Against the Dark Arts and was actually wishing for Quirrel to come back despite have never been comfortable in his classes. Harry felt like everywhere he looked, professor Lupin was there with a gentle smile and helping hand for whatever problem he might perceive Harry to have. Snape was back in potions but the classes had taken a strange turn. For a week, no students in the younger years had brewed anything but simply identified ingredients and Snape's demeanour in the classroom had changed too. While he still walked about with snarky comments he gave them almost as if they were lines. Harry could feel his eyes upon him almost the entire lesson. Neville was cheerful as identifying plant ingredients came easily to him and Hermione became frustrated with what she perceived as a lack of challenge in the subject.

One day Harry was walking the corridors by himself, deep in thought. The only thing Harry really knew was that he would give anything to have his mother there with him. He both longed to go home and was scared to. In his bookbag was a letter addressed to her that Harry had rewritten a hundred times by now. Every time he tried his feelings bled onto the parchment and Harry was scared. Not for himself, as one might think he should have been but for her. Oh, he was an idiot! He'd gone and made a right royal mess out of everything! If only he had not been sneaking around that day! If only Aoife had not found him by that painting! Then everything might have been alright now. What had he done?

”Harry? Do you think you can spare me a few minutes?” said someone next to him, startling Harry and causing him to jump. How had he ended up by Lupin's temporary office? ”Eh...” said Harry but he honestly could not come up with a good excuse to refuse so Harry was still contemplating that as he was let into the office by the professor. ”Why don't you sit down,” nodded Lupin as he closed the door. With nothing coherent to say yet, Harry shuffled over to a chair sat near the desk. He kept his hand on his wand in the pocket of his robes. He was shaking ever so slightly as the idea of being alone with an unfamiliar adult frightened him.

”Professor, is... Did I do something wrong?” said Harry quietly.

”Hmm? Oh, no Harry! Of course not,” smiled Lupin and sat down at the desk. ”Then...?” Harry began. ”Ah, Harry,” said the man calmly. ”I know this must sound very strange to you but I have been wanting to meet you for many years. You see... I'm an old friend of your parents.”

”Huh?” Harry's eyes snapped up to look directly at Lupin for the first time during the conversation. What did he mean? Was he trying to trick him? Snape hated him, didn't he?

”I was at school with James and Lily – in fact your father was my best friend,” Lupin explained. Oh... Harry's cheeks flushed. Did he just put his stepfather in that category? Nope, he realised. It was just difficult not to assume that was what people meant when the majority of people he had met prior to Hogwarts referred to his mother and Snape as his parents.

”Mum's never mentioned that... Sir,” Harry replied cautiously.

Although Lupin's friendly smile remained Harry spotted a sadness in his eyes. ”No, I had understood she might not have. I'm afraid I was away when... it happened and it took quite a while for someone to contact me. And then when I... But that doesn't matter now, I suppose. How is your mother?”

The sincerity with which the question was asked struck Harry who was incredibly confused by it as it was not only unexpected but he did not have a suitable answer to it either. ”She's fine, sir,” Harry replied. I think. Provided he did not make any sudden moves. ”But I don't understand, sir. If you were her friend – why didn't you come to visit?”

”I wanted to, Harry, I did but... It was not possible at the time.” Harry narrowed his eyes. That did not make sense to him at all. How could it be 'not be possible' for so many years? Unless... Oh wait. ”Did he say you couldn't come?” it flew out of Harry much to his own surprise but what was even more odd was that Lupin did not ask him what he meant.

”No, I'm afraid it's nothing so simple. But I was hoping I might get to know you. If you would want to of course. Oh, I almost forgot, chocolate?” Lupin inquired as he produced a bar of chocolate from the top drawer of his desk.

”Erm, sure,” Harry said and accepted a piece. He eyed it suspiciously but found that upon biting into it, it was nothing but creamy dark chocolate. ”Thanks, professor.” Harry looked around the room for a moment, suddenly struck by how dark and impersonal it was. Rather, it did not look like Lupin had added much but a bookcase and candles. ”Did you..” Harry began.

”Yes?” Lupin offered. Harry swallowed. Was he really going to believe this man? ”It's just, did you really know my father? Could you maybe tell me about him a little? If you don't mind.”

Lupin studied Harry with a concerned expression. ”Of course... I would have thought... Is there anything in particular you would like to know?”

The sinking feeling in Harry's chest was almost unbearable as he gave the only answer he could. ”What was he like?” He'd not thought much of the fact that his father wasn't discussed when he was young. After all it had been implied by his stepfather's disgust for him that he might have had something to do with the 'accident' which killed him, injured Harry's mother and traumatised her to the point that talking about it could make her physically ill. But it was all smoke veils – as he could not entirely call it lies. His father was a hero – Hagrid had said so. And the more Harry thought about it the more he realised he knew absolutely nothing about him. He guessed he would have looked a lot like him since he did not look too much like his mother – except for the eyes of course. To think he had once – long ago thought his hair was black because Snape's was. But of course it had soon been made very clear to him that this man was not his father – by the man himself no less.

It took a moment for him to realise that Lupin had not replied. Harry looked up to find the man starring at him with a strange distant look in his eyes. ”Professor?” Harry said. The man blinked. ”Oh, yes, I...” But then he fell quiet again as if he was considering something. ”Your father was the bravest man I've ever known, Harry. And the best friend anyone could wish for. You look very like him, you know!”

”I do?” Harry replied, then he paused. ”Is that why Snape doesn't like you? Because you were friends with my dad? I know he didn't like him very much.” That was an understatement. Harry was very aware Snape hated James, only he had absolutely no idea why if he dismissed Snape's statements about him being 'good for nothing' and 'a prancing prat'.

”I suppose,” Lupin admitted. ”But that is really nothing for you to worry about. Harry.. Professor McGonagall had informed me you might not be entirely happy at home and...”

Harry hadn't really had proper time to digest what he had originally learned from Hagrid as his world had shortly been consumed by the 'Aoife incident'. But contrary to Lupin's instruction he most certainly did worry about it! How could Snape keep all that from him? And why hadn't anyone come to see him then and talked about it? Why hadn't Lupin been there? And why did he care about Harry's life at home now?

”Harry? Harry, I don't want to cause any upset. Of course if you want to talk about it, I'm right here,” Lupin continued. Harry starred up at the scruffy man as if seeing him for the first time. Suddenly professor Lupin didn't seem so scary anymore. Harry did not know if it was because he said he was a friend of his father or the simple fact that Snape disliked him but Harry suddenly felt strange. The rage was bubbling up inside him. It was so unfair! Why had all of this happened to him? He wanted to cry. He wanted to tell Lupin about Aoife and the painting and about his mother being back at the house with a woman Harry was convinced was going to kill her – but he couldn't. He just could not. The words stuck in his throat and he felt trapped.

”I...” Harry began and then proceeded to sniff. ”I have to go.” And with that he whirled out of his seat and headed for the door. He of course did not know but he assumed Lupin rose too from the sound of his chair moving. ”Harry! Harry, are you alright? I didn't mean to...” But the sound of the man's voice disappeared as Harry slammed the door behind him and ran down the corridor. He did not head for the common room or the library or anywhere else familiar. He simply ran until he found a suitably dark corner to curl up in. Shaking with silent sobs he remained there concealed by the shadows.

He didn't know how long it had been when he finally dried his eyes for the last time. His face was no longer moist but his eyes were red and his skin irritated from all the rubbing. His sleeves where stained with dried snot as Harry was not the sort to carry around paper tissues. Harry's limps were stiff and as her got up from the floor he noticed for the first time how hungry he was. What time was it even? Had he missed supper? Harry staggered down the hall, taking note that it was darkening outside but as he didn't know what time the sun set in late November, that was really no help in telling the time. Should he head for the Gryffindor tower then? He was exhausted and found he really only wanted to curl up in bed right now.

”Harry?” The voice was so low he almost did not recognise it. Barely a whisper in fact. He spun around to find a tall dark figure lingering in the shadows. Snape stepped closer and as he passed into the light of a lamp hanging on the wall the first thing that struck Harry was how awful the man looked. He certainly had not looked good when he had returned to the school but it had gotten at least a little better in the following weeks – or had Harry just been imagining that? Because the man before him looked positively ill. But the second thought that struck Harry was that this was the man whose actions Harry had partly just spent the afternoon in agony over and he owed him no sympathy.

”Harry, I need to talk to you. Please, come with me. Quickly,” Snape continued. But the flares of anger rising steadily for every moment he had to look at the man meant that Harry did not even register the rather homely use of his first name nor the fact that his evil stepfather had just used the word 'please'.

”No,” he replied confidently, noting a rather unpleasant smell coming from the man as though he had not showered for days. ”Excuse me?” The disbelief in Snape's voice was evident. ”You heard me. I don't want to talk to you and you know what? I don't want to talk to you ever again so why don't you leave me alone?” Harry countered, now raising his voice. Snape looked like he had just bitten into a lime.

”Mr Potter, this is not a request and..” But even with his schoolmaster tone of voice, Snape did not get to finish that.

”I said: GO AWAY!” Harry cried, blinking away fresh tears.

”What on earth is...” Lupin's voice suddenly said as the man rounded a corner and came upon them. ”Harry! I've been looking for you. Is.. Are you alright?” He said as he took in the scene.

”May I suggest you mind your own business, Lupin?” sneered Snape at the newcomer.

”He is my student as much as yours,” replied Lupin in a surprisingly restrained manner. ”Surely, I'm allowed to inquire after his health and make sure...”

”Well, Lupin, he's my son and you would do well to keep your snout out of it.”

”No, I'm not!” Harry raged. ”You're not my father and don't even try to act like you'd even want to be. I'm done pretending so you can stop doing that! Just go away! I don't want to ever see you again!”

Snape looked like he couldn't make up his mind whether to kill Lupin or Harry although his general appearance suggested he would die trying. Lupin on the other hand looked both shocked and as if he could not decide what to do. Harry ignored it and instead turned around and sprinted down the corridor in the direction of his common room. ”Harry!” Lupin called after him but the boy ignored it. That night he cried openly in the dormitory. Neville and Ron sat on his bed until his sobbing died down as the other boys played a silent card game, not knowing what to do with the situation.