“NO!”

A teenage boy abruptly shot up in bed, chest heaving, eyes wild. He glanced wildly around the room once before a semblance of calm returned to the green eyes.

It’s alright Harry. Just a dream, just a dream.

He shivered suddenly, goose-bumps breaking out over his skin.

Why is it so cold in here?

Shrugging, the boy burrowed back under the covers and tried to go back to sleep. It was his first night back at Hogwarts and he was glad to be home. He shifted slightly, trying to find a comfortable position to lie that didn’t aggravate his bruises.

Let’s just say that the Dursley’s don’t take well to being threatened. Oh no. Not at all.

His injuries weren’t particularly bad, but Harry certainly hadn’t enjoyed being locked back in his cupboard, especially since it was now a much tighter fit. Uncle Vernon had also started a new habit of slapping him, pushing him down stairs, giving him the odd kick and generally ‘accidentally’ inflicting many bruises and small cuts to his nephew’s body.

Just as long as nobody finds out. Not that anyone will. I’m sure I can keep it from Ron and Hermione and Sirius…

A choked sob was heard, and then the teenager abruptly turned on his side, obviously wrenching his thoughts to a different topic.

Enough! No more. I have to get some sleep.

Harry shivered once again, and pulled the covers up higher. The dreams he had were of Voldemort torturing various prisoners, Muggles of all ages. Tonight a little girl had been forced to watch as her family were tortured and murdered in front of her. The shrill cries of “Mummy! Don’t hurt Mummy, please…” were enough to haunt Harry’s dreams for days. He didn’t know if Voldemort knew he was there or not, but he hadn’t been acknowledged.

He really had to learn Occulmency. He’d tried, over the summer, but nothing seemed to work. He’d seen so many visions. One finally convinced him to act. Snape had been put under the Cruciatus for two solid minutes because he hadn’t any information to give the Dark lord about where Harry lived. Seeing a man, even one he disliked heartily, being tortured because of him had struck something in the boy. This year he was determined to study hard, to learn Occulmency and to do anything he could to stop Voldemort.

The first thing he did was to try to apologise to Professor Snape. He’d sent a letter, with Hedwig, which read,

Dear Professor Snape,

You have probably thrown this letter straight onto the fire as soon as you recognised the handwriting, and indeed you have due cause to. I am writing this letter both as an apology for my appalling behaviour and as a long overdue note of gratitude.

Firstly, I wish to formally apologise for my intrusion of your privacy last year. Rest assured that I have spoken to no-one of this event, except Sirius and Remus. I do not expect you to believe me, however, that I spoke to them merely to confirm the event and then to yell at them for what they did to you. I know that you think lowly of me (and yes, I know that’s an understatement) but please believe me when I say that I was absolutely disgusted by the way that my father and his friends treated you. It brought a side of my father to my attention that I had not previously known and now cannot ignore. I used to wish that I was similar to my father, and felt proud of myself if anybody told me that. Now I am merely ashamed and it is my wish that I am more like my mother. However, I know your view that I am merely a copy of my father, and I am sorry for that. I now understand. At least, why it is that you hate me so.

I know that you are very angry, and rightly so, but I am desperate to continue with my lessons. I know that I did not show the deserved appreciation for your time and expertise. I cannot expect anything from you, however, if you do decide that you will reach me again, rest assured that my attitude will be changed this year. I was stupid, and I messed up. I will not let the lesson go to waste.

Lastly, I wish to thank you for all that you have done for me over the years. I realise this may seem a little strange coming now, but I realised that I had never told you that I am grateful. I know how much it must have took, to keep saving a boy whom you hated. I realise that if I met Draco Malfoy’s son I would be had pressed to regard him neutrally. I doubt that I could be as strong as you.

Sincerely,

Harry Potter

He hadn’t received a reply, but then again he hadn’t expected to. It’s not like he deserved one.

But I swear now, I will not let Sirius’ sacrifice go to waste. Remus is teaching DADA this year and I’ll learn loads from him and somehow, even if I have to go to the Restricted Section and find a book on it to teach myself, I will learn Occulmency. I’ll not let myself get taunted by Snape and I’ll get better at potions. I’ll actually work this year. I’ll do everything, anything, just to kill the bastard. For my parents. For Sirius.

Severus Snape had been very surprised by that letter. He had, briefly, toyed with just discarding it, but in the end had decided to see what on earth the boy had to say to him. He had been astounded by the contents, amazed at the sincere tone of the letter and the seemingly genuine thought that had gone in to it.

Then he had been angry – it must be some joke, Potter was probably laughing at him even now, or perhaps hoping for better treatment in class if he pretended to apologise.

Then he was confused.

Snape had dashed off hundreds of scathing replies, angry replies, but hadn’t been able to send any of them. Phrases from the letter kept coming back to him.

I doubt that I could be as strong as you.

He found himself unable to reply with vitriol and scorn if there was any chance that the letter was genuine. He had tried to send a pleasant reply but he found that he could not change his usual sarcastic and loathing tone enough to fulfil the purpose. It shocked him slightly that he could not go more than two sentences without a negative comment about Harry or the boy’s father. So he had left it, tried to ignore the letter and tried not to think about the boy himself.

Now it was the first day, and Potter walked in to breakfast flanked by his faithful followers, Weasley and Granger. The boy looked up at him, and Snape found himself caught by those mesmerising green eyes. He found he couldn’t look away, and the contact was only broken when the Weasley boy nudged Harry and said something to him.

Snape looked down quickly, and then realised that both Dumbledore and Lupin, sitting on either side of him, had noticed the direction of his stares and the lack of his usual scowl that was normally in full force when looking at that particular student. He immediately tried to rectify this by fixing his usual death glare onto his face and fixing it onto the House tables, especially Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. To no avail, unfortunately. The Headmaster’s eyes were twinkling knowingly, whereas the werewolf merely looked puzzled.

Dumbledore smiled, “Worried about Harry, my boy? He does look a little thin, but I’m sure the house elves’ food will soon rectify that, eh?”

“Really, Professor, I have no interest in the eating habits of that blasted boy. He probably just went through some fad and refused the food that his relatives were no doubt stuffing down his face.”

Lupin frowned. “I think you have that wrong, Severus. From the impression I receive from Harry, his relatives don’t like him very much at all.”

Snape scowled at him. “Attention seeking brat, just like his father, and that oaf of a godfather. Proper whiner of a mutt, him…”

Lupin abruptly stood and left the table. Dumbledore’s smile had changed into a disapproving frown and, as always when faced with that look; Snape squirmed a little, feeling like an eleven year old again.

“Now, Severus, that was uncalled for. Both Harry and Remus are still grieving. Please remember that in future.”

Meanwhile, at the Gryffindor table, Harry had been jerked out of his staring competition with the Potions Master by Ron.

“Harry? Why are you looking at him?”

Harry forced a smile. “Nothing, Ron. Don’t worry.”

“Slimy git, that’s what he is.”

Hermione turned on him, “Ron! Don’t call him that!”

Surprisingly, Harry agreed with her. “Yeah. I’m not saying that he’s a nice person, but he doesn’t deserve half of what people say about him. He goes through a lot.” Harry’s eyes clouded over slightly as he remembered his visions where he had seen just exactly how much Snape goes through.

He jerked himself back to the present just to hear Ron proclaim, “I don’t see why you two are defending him. Everyone knows he’s a Death Eater! Just remember what happened last year Harry when you tried to get him to…”

Ron tailed off as Harry suddenly stood, eyes blazing. He knew exactly what Ron was referring to – he was insinuating that Snape had been to blame for Sirius’ death by not acting when Harry had asked for help. Harry completely forgot that he himself had blamed the death of his godfather on Snape for a while himself before he had realised that the guilt could only fall on he himself.

“How dare you say that Ron? He has no blame at all, so don’t you try to pin it on him! Oh, and never call him that again!

He stormed out of the Great Hall, colliding with Remus Lupin in the doorway.

“Harry! Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. You? I haven’t seen you for ages.”

“I know, I’m sorry Harry. Why don’t you come to my quarters for a chat tonight?”

Lupin could see that Harry was upset, but also knew the boy well enough to know that Harry would never tell him now, while standing in public like this. He hadn’t seen Harry all summer because the boy had been forced to stay at his relatives for the entire time as nowhere else was safe enough for him. Grimnauld Place had been a hesitant possibility but Dumbledore had decided it would be better for Harry to be left in peace to grieve without being brought back to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black.

Harry looked slightly hesitant, but agreed anyway.

“Meet me after your last class in my office then, and I’ll show you the way.”

Xoxoxoxoxoxox

Sixth year lessons were hard. However, Harry remembered his promise to himself and struggled to stay alert and attentive throughout Transfiguration and Charms. He was delighted when his mouse turned into a frog on first try. Hermione was amazed, she was used to being the only one who could ever do a spell on the first try.

“Well done Harry! Turning a warm-blooded creature to a cold-blooded is notoriously difficult.”

Professor McGonagall also gave him a rare smile. “Miss Granger is correct, Mr Potter. That was very well done, both of you. 10 points to Gryffindor for each of you.”

Harry smiled in delight. Perhaps there were some advantages to the whole ‘study harder’ thing. He hadn’t managed to do much work over the summer due to being locked up, but he had studied frantically both on the train and last night and was glad to see it was paying off. When the Professor assigned them 16 inches of parchment on the topic for homework however, his good intentions dropped a little.

Potions was… interesting. The last class of the day, Harry was tired and therefore finding it difficult to reign in his temper. Unusually, it wasn’t Snape who was baiting him. The Professor seemed to be ignoring him, although Harry felt those dark eyes on him more than once. His and Hermione’s potion was almost perfect, although Harry admitted to himself with a sigh that it was more due to Hermione’s influence than his own. No matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to understand potions. Snape looked down his long nose at their cauldron when he reached them, but made no comment and swept away. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and Harry did likewise.

It was towards the end of the lesson that the trouble started. Draco Malfoy turned in his seat with a malicious grin.

“So, Potter, not have a good summer? You look as though your favourite pet just died.”

Harry started and dropped too much insect wing powder into the potion. Hermione hastily rectified the mistake, doused the flame under their cauldron and then glared at Draco.

“Leave us alone, Malfoy.”

Harry gritted his teeth. Just ignore him, don’t reply, don’t be affected, that’s what he wants, just ignore him.

Malfoy looked surprised when Harry made no retort,

“Cat got your tongue, Potter? Or was it a dog?”

Harry slammed the vial he had been filling onto the table. He was shaking, but his teeth were clenched together. He looked up angrily, but caught obsidian eyes staring at him. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, regardless of Hermione’s hand on his arm, the bell rang. Ignoring whatever Snape was saying, he turned and fled the room.

Xoxoxoxoxox

When Harry arrived, out of breath and red-faced at Professor Lupin’s office, the door was open but nobody was there. Glad for the moment of privacy, Harry sank down into a chair and laid his forehead on the cool wood of his teacher’s desk. Clenching his teeth he forbade his eyes to let the tears fall. I can’t be weak, I can’t!

He was so engrossed in his battle that he didn’t hear his professor enter, until he felt a hand laid onto his back. A summer of light abuse had ingrained a dislike of touch into him and startled he jumped away, knocking over his chair and rocking the desk as he did, so fierce was his reaction. Harry turned around to see Remus Lupin looking rather surprised.

“I’m sorry Harry; I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Harry blushed. “No, it’s alright; I was just, um, yeah, um startled, that’s all.”

Lupin opened his mouth, then appeared to change his mind. He hesitated then spoke again, “Well, why don’t we go to my quarters. They’re much more comfortable than the office, and I would like for you to know where they are.”

Remus’ rooms weren’t far away and were comfortably decorated in shades of blue and cream. They were pretty simply decorated, but elegantly so. Remus’ had placed pictures and his books and belongings around and so they seemed pleasantly homely. When the teacher noticed Harry’s stunned expression he laughed.

“Yes, they are nice rooms, aren’t they? Come, sit down and have a drink.”

Harry sat on the comfortable sofa and took the pumpkin juice offered to him while Remus sat down opposite him. He didn’t know what to say so he just stared covertly at the older man, who seemed in no hurry to speak.

Eventually, when the silence became slightly tense instead of comfortable, Remus spoke. “Harry, I can’t help noticing that you looked slightly upset, both this morning at breakfast and then later when I arrived at my office. Do you want to talk about it?”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “I’m alright really. This morning was, well, nothing really, and this afternoon, well, I had Potions, so that’s um, it really.”

“Harry, I know that’s not all, but I understand if you don’t want to talk about it. You must have come out very quickly from potions. Did Professor Snape say anything?”

Harry blushed. “I just, kind of, um, ran when the bell went.” Harry held his breath. Was Lupin going to be upset with him? He wasn’t really used to talking to his Professor that much. “I’m sorry. The bell had gone though, and it was just…”

“I don’t mind, Harry. But it was just what?”

Harry’s voice was quieter now. “Malfoy said something that I didn’t like and I had to either leave or curse him.”

A moment’s hesitation. Harry hadn’t looked up at Remus since they’d started speaking but he could guess that the older man was looking at him, wondering what to say, how far to push.

“I’m glad you took that option Harry. A year ago you would have cursed him.”

Harry fidgeted again.

“Did he say something about your parents?”

Harry tensed. “No, but close enough.” He ducked his head even further and stared at his feet. He shivered slightly. The castle seemed colder this year than before.

Remus voice was slightly hoarse as he asked the next question. “You mean…Sirius?”

Harry felt the grief tighten his throat and he did the only thing he could to stop himself crying. He got angry. Jumping to his feet, he looked up for the first time into Remus’s concerned hazel eyes.

“I thought you said I didn’t have to tell you! What is this - the inquisition? I don’t have to talk to you. I only talk to…”

He broke off, caught by both his own grief at the words he had been about to say and the flash of pain in Lupin’s eyes.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, sitting down again. “I’m sorry.”

Remus came and sat down next to him and Harry resisted moving away. He didn’t like people being too close to him anymore. He couldn’t help drawing back, however, when the Professor lifted a hand as if to place it on his shoulder. He hoped the man would put it down to grief. “Sorry” he mumbled again, ashamed to look up.

“It doesn’t matter, Harry.” Remus’ voice sounded tired and sad.

Harry felt a stab of guilt. He’s hurting too. I shouldn’t push him away.

Taking a deep breath he spoke again. “Malfoy kept making digs about the fact that Sirius died.” Harry was glad when his voice only hitched slightly over the words. “I made a promise to myself that I would try to keep my temper this year. That’s why I ran out of Potions and came straight here instead of hexing Malfoy. At breakfast I was upset because Ron implied that Sirius’ death was Professor Snape’s fault.”

Remus hadn’t made a sound, but now he spoke, his voice rough. “You do know whose fault it was, though, don’t you Harry?”

Harry reared back. I know it’s my fault! Is he going to make me say it out loud? Is this my punishment?

Harry’s throat was tight but he managed to croak. “Of course I know whose fault it is!”

Remus looked puzzled, “Harry, why are you looking like that?”

What do you think? Do you know how guilty I feel?

“Professor, don’t do this to me…”

“Lupin had stood up as well and now reached out a hand to his pupil.

“Harry, I don’t understand.”

Harry’s emotions boiled over; guilt, grief, anger, confusion, sorrow, self-disgust, embarrassment, until he could take it no more.

“Don’t touch me!” He cried “I know it’s my fault, alright, but please, please, don’t do this to me.”

Then he fled, ignoring the cries of his Professor as he ran away. Tears were falling down his cheeks as he exited the corridor, until …

WHAM!

He ran headlong into a solid body.

“Mr Potter!”

Looking up he saw the annoyed visage of the Potions Master. Shocked, he dodged the outstretched arm and carried on running down the corridor. Had he waited, he might have seen the brief flicker of concern that passed over the stern man’s face when he caught sight of the wetness on his pupil’s face.

Harry stormed down the corridor. He had no real idea of where he was going, he just ran, tears streaking down his cheeks. Finally, he found himself out by the Lake, and he sank down to the ground, oblivious to the bitter September cold.

“I’m sorry Sirius, I’m so sorry. Why did you have to leave me, Sirius? I need you so much.”

Suddenly a great storm of anger filled him and a familiar stabbing pain started up in his scar. Frantically he tried to clear his mind, but the excess of emotion was still filling his mind and his vision was blurring. The next thin he knew, he was in a darkened room. Voldemort was sitting on an ornate throne at the head of the room. As Harry watched, unable to move or turn his eyes away, he stood and walked towards a man who was lying, limbs bound, on the floor.

“Ah, what a filthy Muggle you are. However, you have given me vital information on Potter. I shall be lenient.”

The man’s eyes lit up. Voldemort cackled harshly and then continued,

“I will only play with you for a little while before I kill you. Crucio!”

Harry felt the burning pain enter him even as he watched the man writhe on the floor. The curse was consuming him, ice crushing his veins. Vaguely he could hear screaming, but wasn’t sure if it was from the man, or from him. Thrashing mentally, he fought to leave the vision, desperate for a respite from the pain.

However, it seemed that Voldemort became aware of him through his efforts.

“Ah, Potter. How nice to see you. I do hope you’re enjoying seeing this. If it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t be here, you know.” Laughing at the horrified look Harry knew was on his own face, he shouted the words of a spell, his wand trained in the heart of the Muggle, his eyes never leaving Harry’s.

“Avada Kedavra!”

Harry awoke screaming and thrashing, desperate to get away, to vanish the sight of the man’s expression, frozen in shock and pain as the life-force left him.

Hands were holding him down and a low, soothing voice was speaking to him.

“Harry! Harry, it’s alright, calm down, it’s alright now.”

He felt very cold. Someone was supporting him from behind, he realised, someone warm, with a kind voice and gentle hands that were stroking damp strands of hair from his forehead. Tremors coursed through his body due to the pain of the curse and the cold. Whimpering slightly, he turned his head and buried it in worn robes that smelt fresh and earthy.

Remus. He realised.

“Harry, can you hear me? I’m going to take you to the Hospital Wing, alright?”

Harry suddenly felt extremely nauseous, and he spoke up in a hoarse voice,

“Professor, I’m going to be sick.”

Gentle hands immediately turned him to the side and he weakly retched. He felt himself being lifted into strong arms, his head cradled against a warm chest, and he felt blackness approaching as the movement caused him yet more pain.

Xoxoxoxoxox

When the Headmaster entered the Hospital Wing, he was greeted with the sight of Harry Potter, pale and shivering in his usual bed. Remus Lupin was standing near him, covering him up with an extra blanket. The kindly werewolf looked up as he approached. He was about to say something, when Harry stirred and gave a quiet moan. Lupin immediately turned back to his side.

“Harry? Harry, it’s time to wake up. Can you hear me?”

Harry blearily opened his eyes. “Professor Lupin?”

Remus fondly smoothed the boy’s hair. “Yes, it’s me.”

Then Harry caught sight of Professor Dumbledore.

“Professor! I have to tell you, I had a vision.”

The elderly wizard came forward and closed the curtains around the bed. “I had guessed as much, my dear boy, but, please, tell me what you saw.”

Harry quickly summarised the dream. When he told the part about him feeling the curse, he shivered again and Professor Lupin gave a gasp. Dumbledore merely looked very grave and stroked his beard.

“Thank you Harry. Remus, perhaps we should leave Harry to rest. I have much I wish to discuss with you.”

Lupin looked hesitant for a second.

“I’ll be back later, Harry. I want a serious talk with you.”

Harry nodded in resignation.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

When Remus returned, he looked unusually worried, but quickly put on a reassuring smile as he saw Harry watching him.

“Harry, I have a few things to discuss earlier. Firstly, I need to talk to you about what you saw earlier, when you ran out.”

Harry’s heart sank.

“I want you to understand that Sirius’ death was not your sole responsibility”

Harry looked up in surprise. Remus’ eyes were sincere and comforting. He took Harry’s chin with his hand and forced the boy to look straight at him.

“Yes, you made a mistake. But there are many people to blame – myself, Sirius himself, Snape. Most of all, Bellatrix Lestrange and Voldemort himself. Harry, Sirius loved you and he was going mad in that house. Sooner or later he would have gone out and got himself into trouble. He would never have forgiven himself if he hadn’t gone to help you.”

Harry’s eyes were swimming with tears.

“I could’ve used the mirror… I was so stupid, I didn’t realise what it was, I swear! Please, you have to believe me! I never meant, I didn’t know…”

Remus’ expression was achingly gentle as he reached out to Harry. The boy was stiff in his embrace, but he persisted and finally Harry melted into the offered comfort. Remus rocked him slowly as Harry cried hot tears of grief, his head buried in the crook of Remus’ neck.

When he recovered, he pulled back slowly, and smiled a small, grateful smile at his Professor.

The Professor seemed to hesitate before moving, but then brought up a hand sharply in front of his pupil’s face. Harry flinched and scooted backwards, nearly toppling of the bed. An involuntary whimper came from his throat as he reflexively raised his own arms in defence. When no blame came, he relaxed his posture in shame to see Remus regarding him in disbelief.

“I’m sorry” he whispered.

“Oh, Harry. I’m not angry. When Madam Pomfrey examined you after your vision, she found the bruises and cuts. Harry, why didn’t you…”

“I got them in a fight! I um…”

“Harry, please, don’t lie to me, I know that you must’ve…”

Harry was panicking now. No-one was supposed to know! Nobody was supposed to find out how weak I am!

“No! I fell down the stairs! I’m really clumsy and kept falling over. You know, I just…”

“Harry!” Remus broke through his babbling, perceptive as always. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of! The blame lies with us entirely. You are not weak, nor do you deserve it! I knew they disliked magic, I just never thought they would go this far.”

“It’s okay, really, they weren’t that bad!”

“So it was your relatives then?”

Harry flushed. Caught out at last. Damn it all.

“Look, can we not talk about this? I’m really tired.”

Remus looked at him suspiciously.

“Look, it wasn’t a big deal. I’m fine.”

At this, Remus erupted.

“What do you mean, no big deal! You were abused, Harry – physically and verbally! No child should go through that.”

Harry looked down. “That’s the point, though. I’m not a child anymore. I should be able to stand up for myself. If I can’t defend myself against my Muggle uncle, how am I about to defeat Voldemort?”

“Harry, strength is not shown by how hard you can fight. Sometimes true bravery is shown by resistance, by the fact that you endured, that your character has stayed pure instead of descending into darkness. You have shown yourself to be better than Tom Riddle because you have risen above the hardships whereas he was weakened by them.”

Harry leant forward abruptly and pulled Remus into a hug. After a moment’s surprise, Remus wrapped his arms around the boy, and they just sat together for a while.

When Remus pulled away, he sighed slightly.

“I’m afraid, Harry, that after your vision tonight, the Headmaster agrees with me that your Occulmency lessons should resume with Professor Snape.”

For a moment there was silence. Lupin held his breath, expecting an outburst from Harry. When the boy looked up from fiddling with the bedcovers, however, he was looking uncommonly serious.

“I agree. I would love to resume my lessons and would be extremely grateful to Professor Snape. However, I doubt that he will agree to teach me again.”

Then, softly, “He sure has good enough cause to refuse.”

Remus let out a sigh of relief. “Professor Snape has already agreed, Harry. He wants you to go and see him as soon as Madam Pomfrey lets you out of her sight.”

Harry chuckled ruefully and replied without thinking.

“I guess my letter had more effect than I thought.”

Remus’ eyes narrowed.

“What letter Harry?”

As soon as Harry was released from Madam Pomfrey’s zealous care, he made his way towards his Potions Professor’s office, idly wondering if his Occulmency lessons this year would be better than last’s. It’s not like they could be worse, I suppose. Maybe if Snape sees that I’m really trying this year then he’ll take me more seriously. I can’t afford not to learn anymore.

When he reached his destination he took a deep breath before knocking. He entered at the terse command to find Snape seated at his desk. He didn’t look up as Harry entered but vaguely waved a hand towards the chair in front of him.

“Is Mr Potter feeling all better now?”

The snide remark caused the familiar heat of anger begin to burn inside Harry, but he desperately fought it down. Can’t get angry. Mustn’t get angry. Ignore him, ignore him.

“Yes sir, thank-you sir.”

Harry kept his eyes lowered and his posture meek. When there was silence, he looked up to find Snape regarding him coolly. The man pushed a pile of books across the table towards him. Harry glanced at the title of the top book – “Occulmency – A Guide to a Clear Mind”. Eyes lit up with gratitude, Harry looked up to thank his Professor who seemed momentarily surprised to witness his enthusiasm although it was quickly masked.

“Take these Potter. I don’t want to see you back in here until you’ve read them. Thoroughly.”

Harry nodded, grabbed the books and made his escape hastily; rejoicing in the lack of angry spells thrown in his direction.

Halfway back to the Common Room, he paused. He couldn’t exactly walk in with a load of books about Occulmency – the lessons were supposed to be a secret. Dithering for a moment on where he could take the books, his mind ran over various possibilities. The Room of Requirement was where he would usually go to do anything in private, but he didn’t know what happened to the room when nobody was using it. What if the books disappeared? Snape would be absolutely furious, and with good cause for once. Another thought was that somehow he could get to the dormitory and acquire his Invisibility cloak. If the books were kept under the cloak at all times then they would be safe. However, that would leave him unable to use the cloak at all.

Then it struck him. Professor Lupin! Harry was sure that the kindly man wouldn’t mind keeping them safe for Harry once he understood. This decision made, Harry abruptly turned and strode off towards the Defence Professor’s chambers.

Once outside, his hand poised to knock, he hesitated again. What if Lupin was angry at his suggestion? It was rather presumptuous… Lupin would probably be horrified that Harry was basically asking if he could use the man’s private rooms as his own storage space. Angry with himself, Harry let his hand fall and was about to turn when he heard the familiar voice float along the corridor.

“Harry? Were you coming to see me?”

It was Professor Lupin who had a big smile on his face as he caught sight of the young Gryffindor. He reached the door and said the password, “Marauder”. Harry smiled faintly and then, at Remus’ urgings, followed the older man inside.

He sat himself on the sofa nervously as Remus bustled around making tea. Think Harry! You need an excuse to be here if you’re not going to ask about the books. He realised he was still gripping the said tomes closely and set them down on the arm of the sofa.

“So Harry, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Harry shifted anxiously in his chair. Remus was sitting beside him and he suddenly noticed that the man seemed to be giving off a great deal off warmth. Suddenly distracted, he frowned in concern.

“Are you feeling alright? You seem awfully warm.”

Remus looked at him in puzzlement.

“I’m not particularly warm, Harry.” He reached out a calloused hand and felt Harry’s forehead. Harry gasped – the hand felt very warm against his skin, yet not unpleasant. It felt comforting and soothing and Harry sighed at the touch. When he looked up, Remus was regarding him with a worried look in his eyes.

“You feel just the same temperature as I do, Harry.”

“Wh-What?” Harry was startled. Professor Lupin was definitely much warmer than him. However, the man was looking genuinely concerned now and Harry could predict another trip to the Hospital Wing if he wasn’t careful.

Desperate to change the subject and puzzle over the heat phenomenon later, Harry cast about for something to say. Unfortunately, the only topic that he could think of happened to be the one that he had been skirting around.

“Can I leave my books in here?”

He took in Remus’ startled look and hastily carried on.

“I’m sorry! It’s just that they’re Occulmency books from Snape and the lessons are supposed to be a secret so I don’t know where I can keep them but I can understand you don’t want them lying around in here so I’m sorry for asking and I’ll just go now and find…”

Harry hadn’t paused for breath at all in this long, apologetic ramble until Remus silenced him by a warm hand on his arm.

“Harry, of course you can keep them here! It’s no trouble at all. It was clever of you not to take them straight to your Common Room and I agree that it would be a good idea to keep them private.”

Harry had been all ready to apologise once more and then leave, but at this his mouth slammed shut, and then opened cautiously.

“You mean - I can leave them here?”

Remus’ eyes twinkled in a manner that was uncannily like Professor Dumbledore.

“I believe that is what I said.”

Harry beamed, but then suddenly thought of a difficulty.

“But how will I read them? If they’re in here, I mean. I can’t exactly just walk in.”

“Why not? You know the password.”

Harry gaped soundlessly for a minute.

“But...But...they’re your private quarters! I can’t just wander in and out!”

Remus laughed and then unexpectedly leaned forward to tousle Harry’s hair affectionately. Harry froze but managed not to flinch away. Remus’ touch was warm and kindly.

“You aren’t just any old student to me, Harry. I don’t mind you coming in here, indeed I would relish the idea of you coming in and out. In fact, I may be constantly kidnapping your possessions so that I can lure you in to come and see me more often.”

Harry flushed. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“Harry, any excuse to get you to come and see mw more often is good for me. I love having you around. But even if I’m not in, you can still come and hang around in here if you want to, alright? I won’t change the password without telling you. These rooms are far too nice for just one person to enjoy.”

Harry was overcome suddenly with emotion. He wasn’t sure if Remus knew just how much he was offering Harry. It was almost like having a family – being able to saunter in and out of rooms, having someone who was actually actively seeking out Harry’s company.

Spontaneously, he leaned forward and awkwardly hugged the werewolf. Remus’ arms encircled him in return, gently holding him close.

“Thank you” he whispered quietly.

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Over the next few days, Harry was very happy. He was finding it hard to keep to his resolve of always concentrating in lessons and doing his homework ahead of schedule but every time he was tempted to have a snooze in History of Magic which was by far his most boring lesson or to play exploding Snap with Ron instead of finishing his Potions essay with Hermione, he thought of Sirius and found new resolve. It was ironic really, he mused, since Sirius was never one to encourage him to do much work.

Whenever he had spare time, which wasn’t often what with merry nights in the Common Room with his friends and the intense Quidditch practices, Harry went to see Remus. It gave the boy a good feeling in the pit of his stomach every time he gave to password to the door and entered the rooms that were beginning to be like a second home to him.

Often Remus was there and he was always glad to see Harry. The two often sat in comfortable silence together, Harry deeply enthralled in his Occulmency books and the Professor steadily marking essays.

One night Harry fell asleep on the sofa, struggling to get through a difficult passage in the driest, least well written book that Snape had given him. He woke sometime later to a delicious warmth surrounding him. As he came to, he realised that he was stretched out on the sofa with a blanket tucked around him. His head was on Remus’ lap, whose fingers were gently carding through his hair as the man read a book. When the Professor realised that his charge was awake he smiled affectionately down at him and Harry felt about as content as he had ever been.

That night he stumbled back to Gryffindor to find Ginny sitting hunched over a piece of parchment which was crumpled and covered in ink. She looked impossibly tired and more than a little upset.

“What’s the matter, Ginny?”

“Oh, nothing Harry. It’s just this stupid Potions essay. Professor Snape will kill me if I haven’t done it by tomorrow but I just…”

She stumbled slightly and Harry sat down next to her.

“I know, OWLs year is terrible.”

Ginny gave a slightly shaky smile and Harry settled himself more comfortably.

“Right then, what’s the topic?”

Ginny looked pathetically grateful for his help and gave him a beaming smile.

Somehow Harry found himself sitting with Ginny for the next three hours, painstakingly helping the girl with every assignment she had that was dragging her down. By the time they had finished it was the early hours of the morning.

Ginny set down her quill and lay back with a sigh, the two leaning against each other companionably. Harry was once again struck by the feelings of warmth that filled him. It was different now than it felt with Remus, but the warmth was still pleasant. Somewhere in his tired mind, Harry dimly mused that perhaps he should try to explain to someone about the whole ‘warm’ thing. I mean, he was sure he never used to feel this way around people.

Somehow, Harry and Ginny managed to get the energy together to drag themselves up from the sofa. For a moment there was an awkward pause, and then they separated to go to their respective dormitories. Harry shook it off as tired ness and wearily climbed into bed.

Dimly a thought flashed through his mind, I should really try to clear my mind, but he was just so very tired, and soon sleep dragged him into blissful rest.

Xoxoxoxoxox

“Crucio!”

Harry thrashed and screamed as he felt the burn of the curse. When the pain finally ended he lay panting on a stone floor.

A cold voice reached his ears.

“Ah, Mr Potter, how nice to see you. My theory works, then. Tell me, young Gryffindor, how do you feel? Cold?”

Harry merely stared in fear at the skeletal figure with red eyes approaching him. His mouth appeared to be frozen and he couldn’t reply. Voldemort laughed softly. He was so close to Harry now, crouched right in front of him.

“I have a nice surprise planned for you, Harry. In a little while. You’ll enjoy it, I’m sure.”

He eyes gleamed with a malicious light as his fingers reached forward, inching towards him. Harry struggled desperately, but couldn’t seem to move away.

The fingers touched his scar, cool fingers. Pain blossomed inside his head and he screamed in agony…

Shouts filled the air,

“Harry! Harry!”

Harry thrashed, the feeling of cold fingers still upon his forehead. Vague sounds reached his ears.

“…get Professor Lupin…”

“..hold…legs…”

“Don’t…think…get…better?”

“Anyone…Seamus go and… “

A cacophony of voices, harsh sounds ringing in his ears. Desperately Harry fought against the restraining hands that were pinning him down.

“ No no no no no…”

Suddenly the hands fell away as Harry felt two more presences approach him. A cool hand was laid across his forehead and Harry shied away violently, unconsciously rolling right into the other. The second man was warm and felt comforting.

Remus!

Whimpering, Harry pressed closer to the presence he now knew as his father’s old friend. Immediately arms came around him, soothing, protecting. In the safe cocoon of warmth, Harry gradually came back to himself.

He was half sitting, half lying on his bed, supported by Remus. Neville, Ron, Dean and Seamus were standing by the hangings, looking at him with varying degrees of caution and concern. Dumbledore was standing near, hand raised slightly.

Unable to face his dorm mates’ stares, Harry turned his head and pressed it into Remus’ robes. In response, the supporting arms tightened around him slightly and he was pulled a bit closer to the warm body.

The Headmaster’s voice cut through the uneasy silence.

“Remus, if I may, could I borrow the use of your room so that you and Harry can have a little discussion with me in more cosy surroundings than those of my office while these boys can go back to sleep..”

The old man’s gaze towards Harry was sympathetic but Harry felt guilt run through him as he realised that it was the middle of the night. He shivered slightly and Remus pulled him even closer before helping Harry to his feet.

The journey to the familiar rooms seemed to take at once an age and a second. Remus half carried Harry as his legs seemed too weak to support him. Once there, Remus drew Harry down to sit on the sofa close to him.

The evening faded into jumble of hushed words and the crackle of the fire. Harry told the two older men of his vision at Dumbledore’s request. When he got the part where Voldemort had spoken to him and then touched him, Remus had given a small cry and drawn Harry fully onto his lap. Harry had the vague feeling that if he wasn’t so tired he would have been embarrassed by this, but as it was he merely relished the feeling of contentment as he snuggled into Remus’ chest, enjoyed the feeling of Remus’ arms wound around him and the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

Lupin and Dumbledore held a long conversation and Harry quickly fell asleep, as the pain pulsing from his scar gradually faded as did the lingering sense of terror, lulled by the warm embrace and soothing voice of his protector.

When Harry woke, he was wrapped in a blanket on the sofa in Remus’ rooms. Stretching slightly he caught sight of the clock. For a few moments he merely caught stared at it in bemused horror, and then suddenly coming back to himself he jumped off the sofa in a panicked flurry of movement.

Unfortunately, he became entangled in the blanket he had been covered with and tripped over his own feet. As he landed on the floor, he heard a gentle chuckle and looked up to see Professor Lupin looking down at him.

“Professor! Why didn’t you wake me? I’m supposed to be in class! Professor Snape is going to kill me! I-“

Remus chuckled again, but stopped when he saw Harry’s face.

“Calm down Harry! You are excused from class this morning. Professor Dumbledore would like to talk to us both – seeing as you fell asleep last night.”

Harry flushed in mortification.

“I’m sorry, I was just…”

Remus looked slightly apologetic,

“I was only joking, Harry. It’s perfectly understandable that you fell asleep after the vision you had to see. Now, why don’t I call a house-elf and you can have some breakfast and then we’ll make our way up. The Headmaster is expecting us.”

Professor Dumbledore, of course, knew that it was them before they entered the room and then offered the two men tea and a sherbet lemon. When he was satisfied, he sat back in his chair and smiled gently.

“Harry, I trust you are feeling more rested this morning after a lie-in?”

Harry mumbled an affirmative while scrutinising the floor. Why did everybody insist on remarking on his sleeping habits?

“Last night, Harry, myself and Remus here discussed your vision in great detail. We must admit that we are a little worried.”

The boy looked up to see that, indeed, the concern was evident in both pairs of eyes. Remus spoke up next.

“It is troubling us that Voldemort seems to know have some measure of power over your connection.”

Harry nodded. Voldemort’s words returned to him: Mr Potter, how nice to see you. My theory works, then.

He looked up at his two mentors. “You mean, Voldemort can pull me into his mind whenever he wants?” Harry started to tremble at the thought. “But, he can cause me pain! He could possess me! It’s not safe – what if I- “

Remus noticed his growing fear and swiftly knelt at the boy’s side and lying a reassuring arm around his shoulders.

“Harry, we do not believe that Voldemort knows the extent of the connection that links you – its limitations and its powers. We have time before he learns to manipulate you too far; however, you are correct in saying that it is dangerous to you.”

Harry felt frustration rise in him.

“You don’t understand! I’m not worried about the danger to me, but to everyone else! What if he possesses me in the middle of the Great Hall? Think what he could make me do!”

Harry was standing now, tense with the growing fear inside him. Abruptly, Remus turned him around and drew him tight against his chest. Harry resisted for a moment, but Remus’ arm was securely around him and his hand was firmly pressing the boy’s head into his shoulder.

Remus had immediately recognised that Harry had missed out on much as a child, including affectionate touch and seemed determined to make up for the lost years. Harry wasn’t going to complain. At first he had been awkward, unsure on how to react, but as he adjusted he found himself longing for, almost craving, the security and peace that the closeness of another person could give him.

Harry gripped tight to the older man’s robes and felt the horror and frustration leave him as the gentle hand moved slowly up and down his back. Remus’ voice was soft as he spoke to the dark head nestled under his chin.

“Harry, I know it’s frightening, but we can stop this. Your Occulmency lessons will be stepped up to three times a week, and at the rate that you’ve been devouring those books I have every confidence that you’ll pick it up soon.”

The Headmaster had moved around until he could place a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“However, too alleviate your worries we have decided on one extra precaution until you completely master the art. If you agree, I would like for you to sleep in Professor Lupin’s rooms for a little while. So far, the visions have come only at night, so that is when you are most vulnerable. Having a fully competent wizard on hand can only be a good thing.”

Harry drew back from the warm embrace and looked up at Remus with weary eyes.

“Thank you, Professor. I think that would be a good idea.”

The Headmaster beamed at him. “Excellent my boy! Now, there are just a few other points…”

Harry re-seated himself and shifted until he was comfortable.

“Now, my boy, I believe that Voldemort asked you if you were cold during the vision? Remus was telling me that you were saying something interesting about warmth earlier this week, although he dismissed it at the time.”

Harry squirmed a little. “I don’t really know, sir. It’s just, I have noticed some stuff but it’s all just little things, I don’t really think it’s relevant.”

Remus gave him an encouraging look. “Anything might be important, Harry. Tell us what you have noticed.”

Harry paused a moment to get his thoughts in order, and then told the two what he knew.

“Well, I’ve noticed that overall Hogwarts seems to be colder this year, although no one else seems to think so. I thought nothing of it at first, but I realise now that this year when I’ve had a vision I’ve woken up feeling very cold and shivering. Then, as you know, the other day I was with Remus and I noticed that he felt very warm to me, even though he said that we were the same temperature.”

Harry stumbled a bit, but neither of his listeners seemed to think that what he was saying was a load of codswallop so he ploughed onwards.

“I’ve noticed that certain people feel warm to me, and certain people feel cold. Voldemort’s hand felt extremely cold when he touched me, although that maybe just because of whom he is, of course. Remus feels warm, as do my friends to a lesser extent.”

Harry paused and looked at the others to see the effects of his words. Remus was staring up at the ceiling and seemed to be in as sort of daze, whereas Dumbledore looked faintly puzzled and was stroking his beard with one hand as he surveyed Harry pensively.

“Well, I must admit that I have never heard anything like this before. Remus?”

Remus, to Harry’s dismay, appeared to be as in the dark as Dumbledore. However, the old man’s smile was as bright as always as he spoke again.

“Well, I think that all you can do for now is practise hard at your Occulmency and try to notice as much as you can about this warmth. You said that Remus is a particular source of this heat? Well, then try to study it was you will be spending time with him. We will meet again soon to discuss this further. In the meantime I shall do some research. It seems to be a fascinating problem.”

Harry wasn’t quite sure that he liked part of his life being called ‘a fascinating problem’ but meekly trailed off with Remus to his new rooms. The house-elves had already moved his trunk and he unpacked quickly. He realised that his friends hadn’t seen him since the night before, and were probably worrying now that all his belongings had suddenly disappeared.

Remus noticed his sudden gloom as he sat down heavily on the couch and came to sit beside him.

“I know it’s uncertain right now, Harry, but it’ll be alright, you’ll see.”

Harry wasn’t so sure, but he forced a smile for Remus and then went to find his friends.

Entering the Gryffindor Common Room, he spotted Hermione, Ron and Ginny sitting huddled together next to the fire, talking anxiously whilst wearing frantic expressions. Ron was gesticulating wildly as he told the girls something, and Harry guessed he was informing them that all of his belongs had vanished.

Feeling a stab of guilt, Harry walked swiftly over to them.

“Hey guys.”

“Harry!” All three spoke at once and the resulting laugh broke some of the tension. Hermione pulled Harry down to sit beside him and her and Ginny each hugged him, one from each side. Harry felt a flush of warmth run through him at the action and was momentarily distracted. Coming back, he realised that Ron was talking to him,

“…no trunk! Didn’t have a clue what had happened – first Dumbledore and Lupin take you off, we don’t see you all day and the suddenly, all trace of you in the Tower is gone! What’s going on?”

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle at Ron’s tone and redhead looked slightly sheepish as he finished his little rant. Harry looked around cautiously before speaking quietly. He knew it was pointless to lie to his friends.

“I had a vision, except it was a bit different to usual. Voldemort spoke to me in this one, and he could touch me. We’re worried about what he can do so I’m sleeping in Remus’ quarters for a while until I get the hang of Occulmency.”

His three friends looked horrified and Harry felt shame rise up in him. I shouldn’t have told them! Now they’ll all be scared of me. However, before he could get up to go, Hermione had hugged him again.

“Oh Harry, why do these things always have to happen to you?”

Harry looked up at her through a messy fringe. “You…You’re not afraid of me?”

It was Ginny this time that wrapped her arms around him and Ron that spoke.

“Of course not mate, We know that you would never hurt us deliberately. But, I think it may be a good thing you’re with Lupin.”

At the other’s shocked faces, he hurried to explain. “For your sake, I mean! Lupin will be able to help you more than we can if something happens to you, Harry. That’s what I meant!”

Harry smiled at his friends who were now looking at him earnestly, willing him to believe them. They know me so well, he thought fondly.

Later that evening, as he was getting in to his unfamiliar bed, he was surprised when Remus knocked softly on his door and than came over to his bed.

“Just came to say goodnight” he told the tired boy.

Leaning over the bed, he tucked the covers around Harry snugly and then tenderly smoothed a piece of hair from his forehead. He was just straightening up when a drowsy voice halted him.

“When you do that it felt really warm.” Harry informed him.

Remus halted and stuttered a bit, obviously still unsure if this was a good thing or not and Harry hastened to reassure him. His tongue felt loosened somehow when he was half asleep and it felt much easier to describe to the older man just how the touches made him feel.

“It’s nice, you know. It’s a good kind of warm, kind of soothing and comforting.”

Remus eyes were soft as they looked down on the boy. He sat back down on the edge of the bed and cautiously cupped the boy’s face with his hand, marvelling at the way Harry unconsciously leaned into the touch.

“I’m glad Harry, I’m glad.”

Xoxoxoxoxoxox

Over the next few days, Harry had no more visions, although he did have a couple of nightmares. Harry couldn’t put up Silencing Charms because Remus needed to know if Harry was having a vision, so Remus was woken up on a few occasions by Harry’s whimpers and pleas in the night.

Each time he was woken he would go straight to Harry’s room, where he would see the boy crying out and thrashing around on the bed. Shaking his shoulders, Remus would wake the teen. Harry was usually disorientated and highly upset and the older man held him close while he recovered. Sometimes Harry pulled away fairly quickly, embarrassed, and others he would continues whimpering and push himself closer to Remus.

Remus never asked what the dreams were about, although from the little Harry said, he could make a fair guess. Sometimes Harry dreamed about his uncle, and on those days he was reluctant to let Remus offer him physical comfort. Other nights he dreamed of Sirius’ death, and those were the times when Harry would cry silently into Remus’ shirt. He would push closer to the warm body until he was practically sitting on the werewolf’s lap, so desperate he was for reassurance and comfort. Remus never minded, in fact he was glad to sit there, helping Harry as much as he could by letting him burrow into his warmth, by slowly rocking the boy and murmuring nonsensical words, soothing, calming. It wasn’t much, but it seemed to help and that was enough for Remus.

Xoxoxoxoxox

The full moon was coming up that night, and Remus had told Harry that because he was taking the Wolfsbane, he would keep his mind during the transformation, but told the boy that to be safe he was locking himself in his Office for the night. With an unusual sternness, the professor forbade Harry to go anywhere near the Office that night, and told him not to come and see him in the morning.

The next morning, Harry awoke early. He was worried about the werewolf and couldn’t settle without knowing how he was. Surely Remus wouldn’t mind if Harry just went to see him for one second? He just needed to see that he was alright. Remus wouldn’t even need to see him.

In his rush, Harry forgot the Invisibility Cloak, but only remembered it when he reached the door to Remus’ Office. Oh, well, Remus probably will be asleep and won’t see me anyway.

Muttering, ‘Alohomora’, Harry slowly pushed open the door and winced as it creaked. There was Remus, lying on the floor, looking very pale and weak, scratches up his arms and his robe looking torn in several places. Unable to suppress his worry and believing the man to be asleep, Harry crept to his side, trying to assess the damage.

Suddenly Remus eyes cracked open, and focused on him.

“Harry!” The one word was sharp and Harry stepped back. Remus struggled to sit up, and Harry instinctively moved forward to help him but halted at the angry look in the normal gentle eyes.

“What the hell are you doing? I expressly told you to stay away. Why have you deliberately gone against my wishes?”

Harry’s voice was small as he replied.

“I’m sorry, I was just worried and-“

“I told you that I would be fine, and yet you come anyway. Go, Harry, go away, I’m very disappointed in you.”

Harry stumbled out. Why was Remus so angry with him?

Finding himself at the top of the Astronomy Tower, Harry sank to his knees. He didn’t understand why Remus was so angry but there was a heavy, sick feeling in his stomach at the thought that the man was angry with him. Remus was never angry, and yet there had been a hard glint in his eye as he saw Harry standing in his Office that morning.

Harry didn’t know how long he sat there, but he gradually became aware of a presence behind him and turned to see the Headmaster. Lowering his eyes, he turned away, but was paused by the Headmaster’s hand on his arm.

“It is time for breakfast now Harry.”

Harry didn’t move and the old man sighed slightly before gently embracing the teenager. Harry leant into the surprisingly warm body of his headmaster. Still he didn’t speak, but the other seemed to know his troubles and tried to put his fears at rest as he spoke quietly into the young wizard’s ear while rubbing soothing circles with his hand onto the tense back.

“Remus is not really angry with you, my child. His temper is always more volatile in the couple of days that surround the full moon. He is also very proud and hates to have anyone see him in a weakened condition. Do not take his words to heart.”

“He told me to leave. He’s never sent me away like that before. He looked so angry…”

The Headmaster reassured the boy a certain amount, but Harry still felt upset throughout the day. His potion exploded for the first time that year and Professor Snape immediately assigned him a detention for that evening.

After classes Harry went back to the Common Room with his friends, who were trying to cheer him up. He didn’t know if Remus was still in the Hospital Wing or whether he was in his rooms, but he didn’t feel up to facing the man. However, he eventually found himself making his way there to put away his books before going to detention. As he entered the room he saw Remus, sitting on the sofa, obviously waiting for him.

“Harry.”

The word was spoken softly, but Harry cringed despite himself. Remus looked up, and Harry could not see anger in his gaze as he motioned for the boy to sit next to him on the sofa. Showing his Gryffindor side, Harry immediately plunged in.

“I’m sorry Remus, I just wanted to see if you were alright, I didn’t mean anything I was just worried. I know I shouldn’t have. Please don’t be angry with me, I can’t stand it when you are, but…”

Remus silenced him by drawing him into a tight hug. His voice was hoarse when he spoke to Harry, but the words were crystal clear.

“I’m not angry anymore Harry. I just didn’t want you to see me like that and was annoyed that you had deliberately gone against my orders. There’s no harm done this time, and I’m not cross, but next time I tell you not to do something, don’t do it, hmm?”

Harry slumped in relief at this statement and the two stayed in the gentle embrace for some time. Eventually he drew back.

“I have to go to detention.”

Remus looked surprised. “Who gave you detention? We have to go and see Professor Dumbledore at some point, but it sounds like it’ll have to be tomorrow.”

“Snape. I blew up my cauldron. I wasn’t concentrating.”

Remus had been looking disapproving, but softened at these words and all he said was “Professor Snape, Harry.”

Harry rolled his eyes but smiled as he walked out. The disapproving look of Remus’ face was reminiscent of the look that Mrs Weasley gave the twins often, and Harry though it was definitely a parental look. This thought gave him a warm glow, and so it was with a smile on his face that he walked into his detention.

Harry’s smile quickly faded as he took in the sight of Snape’s scowling face.

“Potter. You will remain here until I am certain that you can perfectly brew the potion that you mindlessly destroyed in class today.” Harry sighed as he prepared his cauldron and the ingredients necessary to brew the Paternitus potion. Snape’s idea of perfection was higher than anyone else’s he knew, aside from maybe Hermione. Luckily though, the man seemed content to stay at his desk rather than pace around making scathing comments, as was his wont during class. Harry was reasonably certain that he could make the potion correctly now, if not perfectly.

When Harry had added the chopped ginger root, stirred three times anticlockwise and the doused the flame under the cauldron, he steeped back and breathed a sigh of relief. The potion was completely transparent, as it was supposed to be. He looked up at hi professor, who noticed his gaze and strode over.

Sneering at the potion, he sniffed once and then turned to his student, an unpleasant look on his sallow face.

“Well, Mr Potter, either you have done this potion correctly, or have somehow manipulated it so that it only appears to. There is only one way to test it…” Ignoring Harry’s yelp of pain as he grasped the boy’s arm fiercely, he waved his wand and a small cut appeared on the Gryffindor’s arm. He let three drops of blood fall into the cauldron before healing the small wound.

Releasing the arm, Snape curled his lips at the outrage on Harry’s face. Not allowing him any time to complain, Snape continued.

“Now, that your blood has been added, the potion will now test whoever’s blood is dropped in next for paternity. As I am, thank Merlin, not your father, nor in anyway related to you, the test will be negative when I add my blood. Unless of course, you have brewed it incorrectly, an avenue that we must certainly not ignore.”

Harry bit his lip in his effort not to respond in anger, but managed to restrain himself as Snape repeated the wand movement he had used on Harry on himself. When the elder man’s blood reached the cauldron, the potion turned a brilliant red. Having forgotten what the colour of a negative test was supposed to be, Harry turned to his teacher, and then took a step back in confusion.

Snape’s face was devoid of all colours, and his eyes were fixed unblinkingly on the red potion. Suddenly, his customary mask slid back on and he turned to Harry with fury written all over his face.

“Potter!” The word was spat in Harry’s face and he instinctively flinched backwards.

“What the HELL did you do to this potion?” Harry was ashamed of the fear he could feel rising and the slight quaver in his voice as he replied.

“I...I don’t know, sir.” “You imbecilic, foolish, worthless, stupid…” Harry began to feel anger rise up in him, a tight ball of fire within him as he heard the harsh comments. Clenching his fists, he screwed his eyes up tightly and begged himself not to burst as he was sure he would as the all-consuming fury filled him.

“…just like that mangy mutt…” Harry snapped. Hot anger boiled up in him. He felt the pressure behind his eyes build. He was suffocating, cords binding him, tightening slowly around him… Then he was in the room that he recognised from his last vision and Voldemort was standing in front of him, as if he had been expected Harry to arrive.

“Ah, Harry Potter, here again. I’m afraid I can’t stay for long.” Harry was frozen with terror as Voldemort advanced towards him, hand outstretched. “I’ve got an important appointment with your dear relatives. Of course, they don’t know that yet, but they will, I promise.” His cold fingers were on Harry’s cheek now, and Harry could hardly make out the rest of words through the pain.

“I just thought I’d let you know, to give you a sporting chance, if you like. Then, if you don’t manage to do anything, it’ll be their blood on your hands. But then of course, you must be used to that. Now, dear boy, wake up and go trotting off to Dumbledore, like a good little boy. There may be another surprise for you there, if you are lucky.” Harry regained consciousness to see Snape’s face far too close to his own. Groaning, he tried to move back, before realising that he was in fact lying with his back supported by Snape’s chest, who was leaning over to peer into Harry’s eyes.

“Vision.” Harry choked out. “Have to go to the Headmaster.” He staggered to his feet and walked unsteadily to the door and up the corridor that led to the Headmaster’s Office, not even looking to see Snape’s reaction. He hadn’t forgotten who had caused his anger to surge in the first place, and was sure that if that hadn’t happened, he wouldn’t have been sucked into a vision. It vaguely crossed his mind that Voldemort seemed to have been expecting him, so how would he have known that Harry would get angry at that precise moment? Either Snape truly was working for the Dark Lord, or it wasn’t the anger inside Harry that caused him to be pulled into the vision.

Harry pushed away the confusing thoughts when he noticed that Snape had caught up with him just outside Dumbledore’s Office and had already said the password. Harry ignored him and swept past in as dignified manner as he could manage. At the Headmaster’s acquiescence, he entered the room. Remus was sitting there and the man stood hastily as he saw the teen’s face.

“Harry…? Are you alright?” Harry barely spared him a glance, all attention focused on the Headmaster. “Professor, I had a vision – my relatives…” Dumbledore immediately leapt to his feet, defying his old age, and had a short conversation through the Floo with someone. Harry swayed slightly and immediately Remus was at his side, steadying him. When Dumbledore had finished, he turned back to the boy, looking grave.

“Harry, did Voldemort tell you anything else? I need you to describe the whole vision, I’m afraid.” Harry frowned slightly in concentration.

“He said something about running to you, sir, and a surprise…” He trailed off. There may be another surprise for you there, if you are lucky. A surprise it was indeed when his scar split open with agony. Crying out, he was dimly aware of falling to the floor, drowning in pain, fingers scrabbling at his scar. He felt like there were cords around him, binding him, stiffening his limbs and increasing his torment. A face was in front of his own – the werewolf’s – no, Remus’, and he was talking, but Harry couldn’t hear the words. Harry’s hand was moving, but he wasn’t asking it to, the limb felt heavy and sluggish even as he tried to force it to stay still and he watched with growing panic as it hefted Harry’s wand in one movement. Harry’s jaw was grinding as unknown words were formed on his own lips without his knowledge, and then Remus – the werewolf – was falling backwards in a flash of bright light, blood gushing.

At this, Harry struggled harder, desperately fighting the constrains on his mind, have to help, have to help Remus, got to get free, get out of my mind. A snatch of memory came back from that dreaded day at the Department of Mysteries and Harry felt a surge of hope. Concentrating through the pain, he focused on the man he had just unwillingly blasted.

Remus, looking at me with concern in his eyes. Remus holding me close to him as I cry for Sirius. Remus threatening to kidnap my books so that I’ll come to his rooms more often. Waking up with my head of his lap. Remus’ presence, warm and comforting, beside me as I tremble in fear after a vision. Remus, lying on the floor, bloody and unmoving… With a last wrench, Harry pulled himself free from the vision and lay weakly on the floor, gasping for air. He struggled to his knees and crawled over to his surrogate godfather. Dumbledore was there, crouched by Remus but with Snape standing over him, his wand pointed straight at Harry. Harry looked with horror at the growing pool of blood by Remus.

“Oh Merlin…I…” Dumbledore’s shrewd eyes gazed into Harry’s briefly, and then he lowered his gaze and turned away to the fireplace, lifting the Floo powder once again. Harry stretched out one shaking hand to Remus’ face, touching the too-pale skin once before retreating. Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away from the still body, even when Madam Pomfrey came hurtling through the fireplace and briskly began giving instructions.

Snape grabbed Harry by his arms and heaved him up. The boy was muttering to himself, alternately staring at the body and then at his hand, which still held his wand. “I killed him, I killed Remus…” “Potter.” Harry didn’t seem to hear the sharp voice of his Potions Professor, nor even notice that he was being held upright by the same man. With a frustrated sigh, the older man turned the boy to face him and roughly grabbed his chin and forced the green eyes to meet his own.

“Potter.” He spoke each word carefully, as if speaking to a small child. “Lupin is not dead. He was hit with a bleeding curse, but will recover easily. It looks much worse than it is.” The dazed look in Harry’s eyes remained, and Snape sighed. He looked around to see that Lupin and the Headmaster had disappeared, presumably to the Hospital Wing by Floo, and Poppy Pomfrey was walking towards them.

“For heaven’s sake, Severus, you’re supposed to be a Potions Master. He’s in shock – give him a Calming Draft then send him after me to the Hospital Wing.” Severus sneered at her to cover his embarrassment but she ignored him and followed after the others. Working quickly, Snape poured the potion down an unresisting Harry’s throat and propelled him into the green flamed fire.

“Hospital Wing!” Harry stumbled out of the fireplace with much choking and sputtering due to the lack of warning that he was given, only to see Remus, lying propped up with a few pillows obediently swallowing what looked like a whole tray of potions as Madam Pomfrey stood over him. Professor Dumbledore had disappeared, and for a moment Harry just stood there, watching Remus who looked, although not exactly healthy, at least very much alive and well.

After what appeared to be a final admonishment, Pomfrey left and Remus slid down further on the pillows and closed his eyes. Harry wanted so badly to rush up to him and apologise, to touch him and make sure that he truly was alive, but his shame kept him hidden in the dark corner.

When the werewolf appeared to be asleep, other thoughts began to invade Harry’s mind. Voldemort just possessed him and made him curse somebody! He could do it again, whenever – so many people could be hurt by him, he wasn’t safe. He was alone with Remus now – what if it happened again? He couldn’t be around anymore, he was a danger, a menace to society… Harry wheeled around to flee, to get away from everybody, he had to keep them safe, he had to leave…when he ran head-first into his Headmaster.

“Ah, Harry. Would you step outside with me a moment?” It wasn’t really a question, and Harry obeyed silently.

“My dear boy, I am sure that you are very worried about what has just happened. Rest assured, we will find a solution, but just as a temporary measure I am going to cast a spell on you that allows me to block your mind for you.” Harry frowned in confusion. “You mean, you’ll be in my head, shielding my mind.” “Not quite. I won’t be inside my head, but all attacks on your mental defences will be diverted, if you like, to me, and I will be able to block them.” “Oh, I see now. That’s cool. Why didn’t you do this when I first started having visions then, sir?” “I’m afraid that it is only temporary. It is very draining and I will not be able to hold it for much longer than a week, depending on how many times Tom attempts to breach your mind. I had hoped that you would be able to learn Occulmency before the visions became too severe. However, not to worry! We will focus on your Occulmency full time over the next few days. You are to be excused from classes and both myself and Professor Snape will be instructing you as much as we can.” Harry bowed his head. “I’m sorry that you have to do this, sir.” The Headmaster cut him off.

“No apologies, Harry. Now, hold still.” Harry stood while Dumbledore chanted a long, flowing Latin incantation that surrounded them both in a soft yellow light. When he finished, Dumbledore at once looked every inch the tired old man that he was and Harry felt a stab of guilt. However, the Headmaster soon recovered himself and started to speak again.

“I’m sorry to bring you more bad news tonight, dear boy, but I have just heard from the Auror team. I’m afraid that they were too late too save your family. None of them survived and the house is ruined. I’m so sorry, Harry.” There was such compassion in Dumbledore’s voice that Harry couldn’t bare to meet them. Instead he hunched his shoulders.

“Do you mind if I go back inside and sit with Remus for a little while, Professor? I just, I can’t…” A hand was placed gently on his shoulder for a second and Harry was glad of the brief comfort.

“Of course. Tomorrow I wish to speak to you some more, but for now, rest, Harry.” xxx Harry didn’t know how long he had been sitting by the hospital bed when Remus began to stir. Harry’s first instinct was to hide so that Remus couldn’t look at him with blame in those brown eyes. Harry couldn’t stand the fact that he had let down the only father-figure he had left and the guilt was eating away at him like acid inside.

Some fascination kept him still though; a desperate need to check that the Professor was alright, that he wasn’t in pain, that he was recovering.

There was surprise in the amber eyes as they fell upon the boy, but no anger or blame that he could spot. However, he braced himself for the disappointed words and deserved rejection and revulsion, but it never came.

“Harry, what are you doing here? You should be resting.” “I’m sorry!” Harry’s response was immediate and instinctive.” Remus frowned and Harry huddled backwards slightly. “Hey, it’s alright. What’s the matter?” Harry only just suppressed a sob, hands wrapped tightly around himself for support and meagre comfort. “I’m sorry! I just needed to see that you were alright. I know it’s my fault and I’m so sorry, and I swear that I never meant to hurt you. It wasn’t me, I promise, I would never hurt you, please, you have to believe me…” “Hey, hey, none of that. I know it was Voldemort, not you, Harry. I know that you would never do that.” Harry raised glistening green eyes that were full of pleading. “I was fighting, I was, as hard as I could I swear, but it wasn’t enough, it’s never enough…” Remus reached out and touched his arm.

“Merlin! You’re freezing. Come here!” He moved over and tugged Harry in beside him in the bed. Harry was reluctant to accept the offered embrace.

“You shouldn’t…I don’t deserve it, I might hurt you.” “Stop this right now Harry Potter! I do not blame you and I forbid you to do so! I’m fine now, and it’s over with.” Harry began to sob, everything catching up with him.

“I’m scared Remus.” He confessed, “I’m so scared.” Remus didn’t reply but wrapped his arms around the teen and pulled him close to his chest. Tucking Harry’s head beneath his chin he stroked the messy hair and softly crooned to the near-hysterical boy. Harry twisted his fingers into the material of Remus’ robes and held tight as he guiltily absorbed the comfort and warmth from the other man. Gradually the tears stopped, but he kept his face hidden and Remus kept rubbing his back gently. Secure in Remus’ embrace, Harry felt that perhaps everything was going to be alright after all.

Just as he was drifting off, Dumbledore’s last few comments suddenly got through to him.

“Remus?” he asked, ashamed of how small and weak his voice sounded.

“Yes Harry?” Remus’ voice was tender and warm.

“None of my relatives survived the attack. I can’t mourn them, I really can’t grieve for them. Does that make me a bad person?” The arms around him tightened a little and a kiss was pressed to the top of his head.

“No, Harry, not at all. Go to sleep now, and we’ll talk more in the morning.” Harry relaxed into the soothing motion of Remus’ hand stroking through his hair and across the nape of his neck.

“Remus?” His voice was drowsy now, but somehow this seemed very important, although he couldn’t remember why. “I’m sorry.” A gentle sigh. “Hush now, sleep.”

Harry woke to a feeling of warmth and contentment. He realised that he was lying in a bed next to another person who was apparently sitting up, and his head was lying on their chest. Gentle fingers were slowly carding through his hair and Harry sighed softly, tipping his head into the touch. He heard a chuckle and the chest he was resting on vibrated slightly. Another voice entered his conscience, and he woke up more fully.

It was Remus he was sprawled across, he realised. The older man was sitting propped up on plenty of pillows and was talking quietly to the Headmaster, who was looking very cheerful in sky-blue robes. Harry quickly re-closed his eyes and turned his face back into the security of Remus’ robes. The two men were obviously waiting for him to wake up so that they could have a long talk to him about everything that had been going on, and it was probably going to be a conversation he really wouldn’t mind missing.

A hand gently grasped his chin.

“I know that you’re awake, Harry.”

Harry looked up sheepishly. “Um… Good morning?”

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled at him.

“Good morning Harry. I was wondering if we could have a little talk.”

Harry nodded in resignation and made to leave the bed, but Remus’ arm tightened around him. Reluctant to leave the comfort, he subsided, and instead hauled himself up so that he was leaning against his father’s old friend.

“I have been giving much thought to your experiences with ‘warmth’ as you call it. I admit, at first I thought that perhaps you were just reacting strongly to the first real signs of affection bestowed upon you. I am correct, yes, that you did not receive many loving touches before you came to Hogwarts, and even then not many? The timing made sense – your thoughts on warmth began around the same time as you started getting closer to Remus, if I remember correctly.”

Harry flushed in shame. They thought that he was some stupid child who had been hugged for the first time and thought that it had had some miraculous affect on him, a child who couldn’t tell the difference between a simple hug and an abnormal heat issue. Perhaps he was, perhaps he was just over-reacting… Harry dropped his head lower and hunched his shoulders.

Remus’ arm tightened around him in reassurance. “It’s alright, Harry, don’t be ashamed. We no longer believe that to be the case, and even if it was, it would only be a natural reaction that is perfectly understandable.”

Harry looked back up to see both men looking apologetically at him. Dumbledore continued to his next theory.

“However, when I realised that you were especially cold after you had a vision, and then later when Voldemort actually referred to you being cold, I realised it must be something much more sinister than that.”

Harry felt his anxiety grow. Anything that Voldemort was pleased about was never good. He looked up and saw that Remus was also looking very concerned.

“I believe that Voldemort is obviously orchestrating this cold that you feel. Tell me, my boy, have you begun to see a pattern of when you feel the extremes of temperature the most?”

Harry sat in silence for a while; his two companions waiting patiently as he tried to collect his thoughts and recent observations into some sort of order.

“I think I must just explain that it’s not the same thing as being-outside-in-thin-robes-in-winter type of coldness, it’s different. I can’t really explain, but I can tell the difference easily myself.

The coldness is easy – I feel very cold during and after a vision. However, what I first noticed was the warmth, however I only feel it around certain people. I feel very warm when sitting close to people like Remus, Ron and Hermione.”

Dumbledore interrupted at that point. “So, when you are with people that you are close to.”

Harry agreed, and then continued.

“Yes, and now I think about it, I feel cold when I’m alone or upset.”

Remus spoke again. “So, in essence, you feel coldness for any negative feelings or events and warmth when you are happy.”

Harry nodded, while Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, his eyes thoughtful. After a few minutes, he looked up again.

“Harry, I believe this is to do with the protection that your mother gave you and also about your strengths. You remember what I have told you about your mother’s love?”

Harry frowned. “Yes, but I thought Voldemort had got over that problem when, well, at the graveyard, my blood…” It hurt to think about it, Wormtail taking his blood, the duel, Cedric’s body…

A warm hand on his shoulder startled him out of his recollections and Harry came back to the present, giving a small smile of thanks to Remus.

“I’m sorry to bring up these unpleasant memories, Harry, but I must just remind you of what you did to push Voldemort out, the first time he possessed you.”

Harry’s breath caught in his throat. The first time was in the Department of Mysteries, that night…the night when Sirius had, had –

Remus’ arm tightened around him, bringing him back to the present. Harry took some deep breaths, trying to will his eyes to stop stinging and his hands to stop shaking.

“I thought about…” He wished his voice didn’t sound quite so pathetically weak and shaky. “I thought about what Sirius meant to me.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I thought about how much I loved him, and Voldemort couldn’t stand it.”

Harry forced himself to look up, and was surprised at the look of satisfaction in the Headmaster’s eyes. Remus had a pained look on his face, but smiled encouragingly at Harry. Dumbledore leaned forward slightly.

“Do you see, Harry? Voldemort recognises that your capacity to love is a danger to him. As he can only feel hate and take pleasure only in other’s pain, your love hurts him. He cannot stand to be mixed with something so pure.”

Remus spoke up then. “So, Voldemort is trying to rid Harry of his love?”

Harry gaped. How can you rid somebody of their emotions?

Dumbledore nodded. “I fear so. Harry, Occulmency is now our topmost priority and we will be beginning after lunch with a, well I suppose with what they call a ‘crash-course’, hmm?”

Harry suddenly remembered something. “Um, Professor Dumbledore? Professor Snape was pretty angry with me earlier, and when I got angry too, that’s when I had a vision. Do you think that’s what caused it?”

“Although it is true that Voldemort is drawn to hatred and anger, I’m afraid that from what he inferred when speaking to you he must now be able to choose to invade your mind at his convenience.” Seeing Harry’s depressed countenance, he added, “but not to fear my dear boy, I am holding the spell preventing mind attacks on you for the moment, and I promise you that we will teach you how to defend yourself.”

“So it’s through the visions then, that Voldemort is, um, draining my, um, love from me?” Harry still had a little difficulty in wrapping his mind around this idea.

“I must think on it a little further, Harry, as I have never come across a case like this before, but, yes, I believe there must be some connection. Come to my Office after lunch and we’ll start you on some training.”

Before the Headmaster could leave, however, Remus asked Harry a question and the Headmaster turned back to listen.

“Harry, what did Professor Snape do to make you angry? I thought that you were resisting the urge to become angry with him this year.”

Harry rubbed his forehead in remembered confusion. “I don’t exactly know. The potion I messed up in class was the Paternitus and he made me re-brew it in detention. I thought I did it correctly, but then he added some of my blood then some of his, saying that obviously it would show a negative test. I couldn’t remember what colour it was supposed to turn, but then it turned red.”

The two adults sucked in identical sharp breaths, but the boy appeared not to notice, deep in thought.

“I meant to look that up, but didn’t get a chance. He got really angry and started yelling about how stupid I was. I’m sure that potion was right, I’m sure!”

He looked up and seemed bemused by the shocked looks on the Professors’ faces.

“What? I’m sorry, but I only got angry because he was yelling about how worthless and imbecilic I was and I didn’t even know what I’d done wrong!”

Lupin hastily reassured him. “No, it’s not that which shocked me. I’m sure you had every right to be angry. It’s just…so strange…”

Harry was beginning to get annoyed. “What? What’s so strange? Why is everybody so shocked by the potion turning red?” The two adults looked a little shifty. “Damn it! Why didn’t I memorise by potions textbook like Hermione?”

Laughter broke the tense moment and Dumbledore left after one parting comment.

“Do not worry about the potion, my boy, I have a few things to discover about the, well, slightly unusual result, and then I promise to explain it to you. Now, I’ll leave the two of you to freshen up and I’ll see you after lunch in my Office, if you would. Oh, and Harry – bring the books that Professor Snape lent you.”

xxx

A little while later found Harry and Lupin in Dumbledore’s office. Harry looked around at all the delicate silver instruments uneasily before ruthlessly squashing those memories down. Just before an Occulmency session was not the time to dwell on those remembrances.

Professor Dumbledore smiled kindly at both of them and then turned to Remus.

“Remus, my boy, I’m afraid what we were speaking of earlier has begun. You must leave now. I’ve prepared the usual method of transport for you.”

Harry was confused, but then suddenly realised what was going on. He spoke, his voice filled with disappointment and fear. “You’re going on a mission…now?”

“Headmaster, please may I speak to Harry for a moment alone before I leave?”

Dumbledore nodded and left the room through a door at the back of the office that Harry had not noticed before.”

“Harry…”

“Why do you have to go on a mission now? Why do you have to go away? What happens if you get hurt?”

Arms enfolded him and he leaned into the offered embrace.

“I’m sorry to leave you now, Harry, but this mission is very important and the timing is crucial – I must leave now, as soon as possible.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“Harry, I won’t lie to you. There are always risks involved –“

Harry cut him off. “Just one question before you go. Do you think that the warmth I feel is my love for others, or their love for me?”

Remus appeared thoughtful for a moment. “I’m afraid I don’t know. You’ll have to study who feels warm to you, and to what degree, and try to decide for yourself.”

Harry hesitated for a second before wrapping his arms around the man he considered a father and saying quietly. “You’re the warmest person.”

There was a moment of silence before Remus spoke again; his voice close to Harry’s head, which he’d hidden in the folds of the man’s robes.

“Then I think it’s probably the love that others feel for you. I cannot imagine anybody else loving you more than I do. You are my pack, Harry, my cub, and I will always protect and love you. Yes, you are the son of one of my pack-mates, but I have come to value you for who you are – a brave, honest and loving young man. I love you very much Harry.”

Harry’s throat seemed very tight and his eyes were pricking. The candid declaration from Remus had moved him greatly. He had gradually been coming to realise that he thought of Remus as a father, but hadn’t really thought about what Remus thought of him, beyond the fact that he was James Potter’s son.

Desperately wanting to tell Remus that he loved him too, Harry looked up and opened his mouth, but somehow couldn’t manage to form the words. He’d never told anybody that he loved them before, and it was proving extraordinarily difficult to form the simple little sentence.

Remus was looking at him with understanding in his eyes, however. “It’s alright, cub, it’s alright.”

Harry felt a rush of happiness at the nick-name, because, he thought, it showed that Remus had really meant what he said. He hoped that Remus would always call him that now, because it would always remind him of what he had said.

Remus was drawing back now, and Harry knew that it was time for him to go. A sudden surge of panic ran through him, and he lunged forward and hugged Remus desperately.

“Be careful, Remus. I can’t lose you now. Come back safely.”

Remus cupped his cheek gently and stroked the skin gently with his thumb. Pressing a gentle kiss to the boy’s forward, he stepped back and then left through the same door that Dumbledore had, leaving Harry feeling cold and alone, although Remus’ words had left a comforting ball of warmth deep inside him.

xxx

Expecting the Headmaster, Harry was surprised when a few minutes later Snape walked into the room. He still appeared more than usually angry with Harry, and immediately starting talking.

“Well, Potter, if I have to attempt once more to teach your pathetic brain Occulmency, I might as well get started.”

Feeling emotionally drained and vulnerable after the talk with and departure of Remus, Harry could only watch with dread as Snape pulled out his wand with a flourish.

“Legilmens!”

Harry was laughing with Ron over a game of Exploding Snap. He was sitting, afraid in the Hospital Wing as Remus lay still and white on the bed. He was watching, awed, as Hermione slapped Draco Malfoy in the face. He was laughing as Remus was trying to undo Harry’s attempt at redecorating when he had spelled the walls of Remus’ quarters orange and pink. Bellatrix Lestrange, head thrown back in triumph as Sirius’ body fell… No! not that one, move the thoughts away…He watched as the potion turned red when Snape’s blood was added…

Suddenly the presence pulled out of his head, and Harry found himself on the floor. Snape was towering over him, face infused with rage. Harry shrunk back, actually afraid at the look on the Professor’s face, so startling it was in its hatred.

Suddenly an old voice broke through.

“Enough, Severus! That is not the way to teach Harry to defend himself!”

Harry sighed in relief as headmaster Dumbledore came and stood between him a Professor Snape, who shrunk back, a guilty look on his face.

“Now, Harry, let’s start at the beginning.”

As Snape sat glowering in the corner, Dumbledore and Harry discussed what he had learnt from the books. Harry confessed that he had problems in pushing all of his thoughts to the back of his mind, and also had not decided on an image to use when blocking.

At this, Snape spoke up in a deeply derisive tone. “So, really, Potter, you haven’t managed to do anything yet, not that it’s surprising from you.”

Harry flushed and looked away, unable to think of a retort, when in fact Snape’s words were pretty much the truth. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried, though.

“Severus.” Dumbledore’s tone was a gentle reprimand, and Snape slouched back into his chair, face hidden by a sheet of lank hair.

Dumbledore turned his attention back to Harry and began explaining that he didn’t have to blank his mind of all thoughts, just hide those that are most important behind a screen. Imagery, he told the boy, was very important in the Mind Arts. He helped Harry to find an image behind which he had to keep dangerous thoughts hidden. He could still think about them, obviously, if he needed to, but they must always remain locked away.

Harry found that he could do it if he really tried, if he really, really concentrated, but he could in no way think about anything else, which, he supposed, rather defeated the point.

“Patience, my boy!” Dumbledore reassured him. “It takes practice, much practice, but you have made good beginnings.

Yeah, Harry thought snidely, I can do alright when somebody is actually teaching me.

Next they moved onto how Harry could block his mind completely, to be used before falling asleep at night, and if ever he came face-to-face with Voldemort again.

‘If’ it happens, my arse. There’s no bloody doubt in my mind.

“But, Professor? Surely if you say to do this before I go to sleep, that’s to stop the visions, yes? I get them during the day now – doesn’t that mean I should always be completely blocking my mind?”

Snape snorted from his corner. “Potter, you are hopelessly imbecilic you’re your mind is at its full alertness, which isn’t much, I have to say. Maintaining your mind at full defence all day and all night would be far too much for you to handle.”

Harry bristled, but Dumbledore interrupted anything he might have said. “Severus! If you cannot give useful comments, sit and be quiet or leave this room!”

He looks like a naughty schoolboy just told off by the teacher… Harry fought to keep from snickering at his Potions professor.

“Harry, at night your mind is at its most vulnerable. During the day, keeping only your surface thoughts open should be enough to shield your mind. We will learn the complete blocking for when you really need it, as it is hard to sustain for and length of time.”

Harry nodded. This didn’t sound like an easy thing to learn, but then, he knew that.

“Now, I need to pick an image. It might be of an element, or perhaps somewhere you feel peaceful, or safe. Somewhere you would go to relax, or something you enjoy just sitting and looking at.”

Harry thought briefly of fire, remembering sitting in the Common Room late at night, watching the fire crackle and drifting lazily above his thoughts. No, it’s not enough. The he thought of his cupboard under the stairs, a place where, as a child, he thought safe. No, too many bad memories associated with the Dursleys. I could never voluntarily bring that image to mind.

“Play to your strengths, Harry.” Dumbledore’s voice was quiet, but it took Harry straight to what he had been looking for.

“Quidditch!” he blurted out. He heard another snort of derision from Snape, but took his cue from Dumbledore and ignored it.

The Headmaster had raised one eyebrow and was regarding him intently, obviously waiting for more.

Harry explained. “Well, not the game itself, but the feeling – being up in the sky, being free and quiet, away from everything.”

Dumbledore smiled. “That sounds like a wonderful image for you to focus on. Now, I think we’ve done enough for today, and I believe Severus has a potion to brew?”

Snape jumped slightly, and then without a word hurried off, his movements jerky. Harry got up to leave as well, but Dumbledore halted him.

“I’m sorry, Harry, I’m afraid we need you to test the potion. Why don’t you practise holding your image just as we discussed until Professor Snape brings it back.”

Harry was suspicious. “Is this to do with the potion I brewed in detention?” A lurking horror began to grow inside him.

Dumbledore looked slightly worried. “Yes, my boy. I’ve asked Professor Snape to brew it himself and for you two to test it, just to put fears to rest.”

The horror grew. “Then, when it turned red, that meant, that meant…”

“Yes, Harry. If the test for paternity is positive, the potion should turn red. You can see why we need to check.”

Harry had sat, fidgeting, for what seemed like an age before Dumbledore distracted him. The old man had merely watched for a while, as Harry chewed his fingernails, muttered angrily to himself, twiddled his thumbs, picked at the material of his robes and generally worked himself into a nervous frenzy.

Eventually, the Headmaster had cleared his throat, which had the effect of making Harry jump nervously. Dumbledore forced Harry to relax by practicing more Occulmency with him.

Harry threw himself into it, desperately trying to forget that soon Snape would be coming back with the potion, and found it remarkably easy to be able to sink into a state of absolute calm, of non-awareness, his mind drifting high above the clouds into the blue sky, flying free with nothing to worry about.

Dumbledore beamed at him in delight when he first achieved this state of mind, congratulating him on his fast progress. “Well, Harry, the mind shield I am currently holding over your mind is tiring me more than I thought it would. You have made such good progress that I think I will let it drop.” Seeing Harry’s mixed pleased and doubtful look, he quickly added. “However, you must promise me that you will clear your mind faithfully each night before sleeping, and at all times try to keep your most dangerous thoughts locked away.”

Harry nodded, and then closed his eyes as Dumbledore removed the spell. Although he could not feel a difference in his head, he knew that the protection was gone and it both frightened and elated the boy that he was now trusted to defend himself against Voldemort’s attacks.

Just as Dumbledore was about to speak, Snape burst back into the room, a vial of the translucent potion in his hand.

“Ah, Severus.”

“Headmaster, this test is completely unnecessary. There is no possible way that…”

Dumbledore interrupted. “Severus, my boy, I know your feelings, but let an old man be satisfied, hmm?”

He did not wait for an answer but turned to Harry. “If you could give me your arm? I presume you know what I must do?”

Harry was shaking with nerves now, but extended his arm and allowed the old man to add some of his blood to the potion. As if in a daze, he watched as Snape briskly did the same.

As the mounting tension filled the room, the potion turned red.

For a moment there was silence, and then – uproar.

Harry gasped audibly and stumbled backwards until his legs hit a chair and he sat abruptly. Dumbledore remained staring at the potion in disbelief, not noticing as Severus advanced on Harry.

Unwisely, Harry spoke. “You’re my…You’re my…”

Snape roared in anger. “I am nothing to you, boy! I am disgusted at the very thought of being in any way connected to you! You are a disgrace, a snivelling, pathetic wretch who goes through life causing havoc and then blaming others for his pitiful mistakes. You cause nothing but heartache, Potter!”

Seeing Harry’s shocked face, Snape seemed to grow even more enraged and both his tone and words grew more vicious. His face was contorted in absolute hatred as he raged at the boy. “What did you expect? Did you want me to fall weeping at your feet, demanding forgiveness and begging for you to let me hold you in my arms, pleading with you to call me ‘Daddy’? Well you’ll be disappointed! Do you think I’m stupid, that I would even consider coming close to you? Everyone close to you dies Potter – probably because you’re so hopelessly arrogant that they can’t stand the sight of you. Your parents – dead. Your precious godfather – dead. Your little werewolf friend – missing.”

Harry stood frozen in shock, but the last sentence affected him like none other.

No, no, no, no… Snape is right – everybody I know dies, I’m a worthless, stupid child…

Belatedly Harry realised Snape was echoing his own thought processes. “You worthless, imbecilic, menace!”

Just as the Headmaster’s voice boomed throughout the Office, “SEVERUS SNAPE!” Harry turned and fled, hardly noticing the tears streaming down his cheeks.

Not even aware of where he was fleeing to, Harry gasped out the password to Remus’ rooms and collapsed inside. Suddenly, Snape’s words hit him.

Your little werewolf friend – missing.”

An agonised sob escaped the boy. Remus was missing while on his mission for Dumbledore! Harry felt a wave of unadulterated need for Remus rise up inside him, and suddenly it felt like the walls of the room were stifling him. Too many memories of Remus were here - he couldn’t be here, not when Remus couldn’t be there with him.

Choking back more tears, Harry stumbled to his feet, and made his way towards the Gryffindor Common Room. He had a sudden desire to see his friends, do get some comfort from those who would not shout at him and belittle him but would just be there for him.

Staggering through the Portrait Hole, hearing the concerned questions of the Fat Lady in his ears, he stood in the entrance to the Common Room and looked for his friends. The Common Room was nearly empty, and he realised that it was pretty late in the evening. They were over by the fire, but before he could cross over to them, Dean Thomas looked up from his game of chess with Seamus.

“Harry!” He exclaimed.

Suddenly, all eyes were upon him, and Harry suddenly realised what a sight he must look – eyes bloodshot, face tearstained, hair rumpled more than usual. Ron and Hermione leapt up and each grabbed an arm, leading him over to the sofa next to the fire. Ron took one look at his stricken expression and turned to the rest of the Gryffindors, bellowing, “Right! Everyone out, time for bed! Let us have some space here!”

Whether out of deference for his obvious distress, or from fear of Ron, Harry didn’t know, but the room emptied fast, leaving only Harry, Ron and Hermione.

It was Hermione that spoke. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

Harry broke then, and burst into great wracking sobs, tears pouring down his face as the string of agonised words left his mouth. He couldn’t seem to string a coherent sentence together, so took some deep breaths before trying again, focusing on the warmth of his two friends, one on either side of him.

Both of them were mercifully silent, giving him some time to recollect himself. Ron was gripping him arm tightly, while Hermione was hugging him and between the two of them he managed to calm down enough to speak.

Tears were rolling down his face as he told them that Snape was his father, and about all the things the man had said. Harry couldn’t stop the tears falling as he grappled with his pain. “All my life, you know, my parents have been dead. It hurt, yes, but I always could imagine them, up there, watching over me. I used to imagine how much they loved me, and it always comforted me. But now I know that it’s not true. I have a father, an alive one, but he hates me…he hates me so much!”

Vaguely, Harry realised that Ron was hugging him as well now, and he basked in the warmth of the brotherly embrace, a worry clearing from his mind as he realised that Ron wasn’t going to throw away his friendship now that he knew that Harry’s father was his most hated teacher.

Hermione was crying as well now as she listened to the hurt in her friend’s voice. “Oh, Harry, I wish I could do something to help! Is there anything that you want?”

Harry was ashamed of his feeble voice as he replied, with a sudden rush of longing. “I want Remus. I really, really need Remus here.”

Ron leapt to his feet, glad to be able to do something to help his friend. “I’ll go and fetch him!”

Harry couldn’t repress a sob. “No, you can’t. He went on a mission, and Snape said that he’d gone missing. He’s gone and left me all alone when I really need him to be here!”

“You’re not alone, Harry” said Hermione, desperately hugging him tight. “We’re here, we’ll always be here.”

“No you won’t! You’ll end up getting killed because of me.”

Ron’s voice was angry when he replied. “Don’t listen to what that git said to you! You haven’t caused anyone’s death, Harry, and I refuse to let you believe that you have!”

Taken aback by the vehemence in the red-haired boy’s tone, Harry didn’t have a chance to argue before Hermione cut in. “When did Remus go on this mission?”

“He only left earlier this evening, that’s why I wasn’t worrying.”

Ron was clearly baffled. “How can he be missing already if he only left today?”

Hermione huffed at him. “Well, honestly, Ronald, it must be a short task, maybe something that’s time-sensitive.”

Harry lifted his head at that. “Yeah, Dumbledore said the timing was crucial. Remus was talking to me, and then Dumbledore came in and suddenly he had to leave just like that.”

Harry felt himself get upset again as he remembered what Remus had said before he left.

I love you so much, Harry. And now he was missing.

Drawing his knees up to his chest, he hugged them to himself and rocked slightly. He had this huge ache inside him, a physical need for Remus to be with him, because when Remus was holding him he always felt like everything was going to be alright, he felt warm and loved and safe. The only other person he felt like that about was Sirius.

His already unsteady emotions crumbled when he remembered his godfather, and Harry began to sob again.

“I really miss Sirius” he whimpered, and if his friends were surprised by his change in subject they didn’t show it, but came and sat by him again, comforting him with their presence.

Harry suddenly found that he needed to talk, that he needed his friends to understand. “I really miss him. I miss the fact that if he were alive and knew I was this upset, he’d drop everything to come to me. I miss the fact that he was always ready to fight my battles, and was there to keep me safe. I miss him now because it was always him I went to when I was upset, and he’d always make me feel better. But he’s gone, and it’s Remus I go to now, but he’s left me as well. I want Remus now so much it hurts, but Snape says he’s missing and I’m so scared because I don’t know what I’ll do if he’s dead.”

His friends could add for themselves the last unspoken sentence. Dead like Sirius is.

Harry was crying again now and didn’t think he could ever stop, not even with his friends beside me. So deep were his sobs that he never noticed the portrait door open. He did notice his friends draw away from him, but before he could look up, he was enfolded in gentle arms and soft robes.

For one heart-stopping moment he thought that perhaps it was Remus, returned safe and sound, but he soon realised that the smell and feel of the person was different. The let-down made him merely cry the harder, and he felt himself being pulled up to sit in the person’s lap. The robes smelt faintly of lemon drops, and Harry realised with a start that he was being cradled in the lap of no less than the Headmaster himself! Startled, he was about to pull away, but he so craved the comfort that the old man appeared willing to give that he gave in and sank into the embrace.

He was being slowly rocked from side to side as a gentle hand rhythmically stoked up and down his back. Harry’s head was comfortably resting on a softly-robed chest. He was so tired, and the position was so comfortable. Harry hadn’t realised that he’d been making a low keening noise until he stopped as he began to calm. Exhausted by the emotional evening, Harry began to drift off to sleep.

He roused himself, though, before he could drift away, however much he wanted to let peace overcome his mind he wanted some answers more.

Looking up at his Headmaster’s face, he began firing off questions to him.

“How can Snape be my father? Why did nobody know? How come I look so much like my dad, I mean, James Potter? Is Remus really missing? Where did you send him?”

Harry would have continued with his barrage had not Dumbledore held up one hand to forestall him, a slight smile on his otherwise sad and tired face.

“My dear boy, I’m afraid I really cannot tell you anything about your parentage, for the simple reason that I myself knew nothing about it. Professor Snape is also upset and I am unwilling to attempt to talk to him just now. Tomorrow we shall discover some answers for both of you. But for now, I ask you not to think too harshly of him, and to try to look upon this with an open mind.”

Harry was looking at him in disbelief. Not think too harshly of Snape, and look at this with an open mind? He says this about the man who fathered me and never told me and who has just basically told me that I am no better than a murderer?

However, before Harry could protest, Dumbledore was continuing.

“About Professor Lupin. Yes, Harry, I’m afraid that Remus was indeed due to return a short while ago, however, do not fret. I am not at liberty to discuss with you exactly what he was doing for me, but he is a very resourceful man and a powerful wizard. I have every confidence in his abilities.”

The boy was comforted slightly by this, and could indeed see no overly concern in the man’s eyes. Although, Harry knew the Headmaster was a skilled Occulmens and was quite capable of hiding from Harry his true thoughts on the matter.

Before Harry could ask anymore questions, the Headmaster herded the three friends off to their beds, with promises to talk more in the morning.

Harry was not satisfied, but he was exhausted and so didn’t protest much before surrendering and leaving the safety of his Professor’s lap with some embarrassment and stumbling up to bed.

In fact, so tired was he that he fell asleep without using any of his new skills at Occlusion and tumbled straight into Voldemort’s mind…

Harry was rolling from his bed before he’d even fully regained consciousness, Voldemort’s words echoing in his mind. Come and get him, Potter, if you dare…

In his haste he forgot his Invisibility Cloak, desperation and fear making him clumsy and incautious. Running as fast as he could, breathing harsh and legs unsteady, the boy made his way through the halls of Hogwarts, heading for the Entrance Hall. In his haste he never saw the black-robed figure begin to follow him.

When he reached the main door, and rushed outside the castle walls, however, he could not fail to hear the shouts telling him to stop immediately. Looking back, Harry saw the Potions Master running after him, as if to catch him. Turning back to face out into the grounds, Harry took off running towards the Main Gate. I have to make it! I have to save him!

Harry realised that the entrance to Hogwarts’ grounds was also the edge of the protective wards around the school, and he didn’t mean to go past them. All he had to do was save Remus, and he had to do it now.

Professor Snape was gaining on Harry now, and suddenly he could hear the Potions Master’s enraged voice behind him, shouting “Petrificus Totalus!” Harry ducked instinctively and the red light flew over his head. Putting on a burst of speed, he sprinted desperately, knowing that he would not be able to avoid the spells for long. He might not like Professor Snape, but the man knew what he was about.

If only I had time to stop and explain! Oh, well, it’s not like he’d actually listen to me – to Harry Potter of all people. Harry resolutely forced out of his mind the thought that he was actually a Snape, not a Potter apparently, and focused on the task of reaching the gate.

Finally he reached the gate, and made sure to stand to one side of it, hidden behind a pillar. He looked round to see another spell coming at him, courtesy of Snape, and was forced to jump out from behind his cover, right into the middle of the open space between the gates. Before he could take cover again and think through what exactly he was going to do now that he was here, a much-dreaded voice began to speak.

“So, Potter, I am surprised, you actually showed up did you?”

Harry tried, unsuccessfully, to reign in his anger. “I’m more surprised that you did, Tom. Couldn’t you find a minion willing to do your dirty work, or did you just want to visit dear old Hogwarts?”

Voldemort snarled angrily, and raised his wand. “Crucio!”

Harry tried to duck, but the spell caught him, and Harry dropped to the ground, screaming. Pain took over his body, and the boy writhed, trying to escape, hands bent into grotesque claws as his muscles tensed.

After only a few seconds, Voldemort lifted the curse. As Harry lay panting on the ground, he noticed Snape moving stealthily forward, with another shape next to him that looked vaguely like Dumbledore. Snape seemed to be restraining the old man, but Harry couldn’t help feel a surge of hope at the sight of them.

Voldemort was obviously not in the mood for games. “Right, boy, let’s get on with it. I believe I have something for you?”

Harry rose shakily to his feet. “Yes. Give him to me now.”

Voldemort gave a cruel laugh, and Harry felt tendrils of apprehension start to rise up inside him.

He reached behind him, and pulled a figure out to face Harry, who felt a surge of joy. “Remus!” He cried happily. The man didn’t even acknowledge the boy; the blank amber eyes fixed on some point in the middle distance.

Another laugh from Voldemort. “Oh, you naïve fool!” Harry stepped closer to Remus as Voldemort let the man go. The man stumbled slightly towards Harry’s direction, and the boy’s arms were out to receive him.

“Avada Kedavra!”

Harry felt like he had stumbled into a nightmare as he both felt and saw the eerie green light flood around his senses. A heavy body fell onto him, knocking him over and then pinning him to the ground.

When he realised that he had screwed his eyes up against the green glare, he opened them, hearing as he did so the sharp crack that signalled disapparition.

Harry’s green eyes opened to meet with blank amber eyes scarce inches from his own. Remus’ body was limp and heavy, pinning Harry to the ground. The smell of torture, pain and blood made Harry nauseous as he stared up at the face inches from his own. Frozen in confusion and fear, he made no move to try to shift the body, but remained on the ground, mouth opened in silent horror as he stared into the lifeless eyes.

He didn’t register the hands pulling the body from on top of him. He fought, though, when the hands try to turn him away, when they tried to move him so that he couldn’t see Remus anymore. He screamed with a voice of fear and pain, and hit out against the man that was trying to take him away. His hands found new strength and he hit and punched, bit and kicked. Startled, the hands loosened, and Harry pulled away.

It seemed to take him only a second to rush to Remus’ side. He dropped down beside the still – too still! – body and reached out one shaking hand.

He can’t be dead, he can’t be dead, he can’t be dead, he’s just unconscious because of the torture, but he’s going to be fine, he’s not dead, he can’t be dead…

Harry’s hand connected with Remus’ face. It was as cold as ice.

No no no no no no… Remus is always warm, is always so warm…

Harry shook his head. Remus couldn’t be dead. He was only here just yesterday… But he’s gone cold… a traitorous voice spoke up at the back of his head. Remus always feels warm to you, so the only way he can be cold is if he’s…

“No!”

Harry hadn’t even realised he had shouted aloud until he was pulled back away from he body again. Harry blinked his eyes furiously, and then saw that Snape was waving his wand over the body and muttering furiously to himself. Even as Harry struggled to get away from whom he now realised was the Headmaster, Snape looked up, his face impassive. “He’s gone.”

Harry sagged, boneless, to the ground. His whole body was numb, apart from his eyes which were stinging with a burning heat that no amount of blinking seemed to dispel. This time he didn’t resist as Dumbledore turned him gently away and started leading him back up to the Castle, one hand carefully gripping the boy’s shoulder. Harry supposed numbly that Snape was doing a Mobilicorpus on Remus to bring his body up to the Castle. He wondered idly what Remus would say if he knew he was being carried around by Snape. A slightly hysterical giggle threatened to rise up inside him, and Harry hastily squashed it down. No use in the Headmaster thinking I’m more mad than he thought I was, is there?

Dumbledore took Harry to the Hospital Wing, and gently made the boy sit on one of the beds. Snape came behind and Remus was lain on a bed, surrounded with screens. Vaguely, Harry realised that they’d taken him to the same place as Remus. Remus who is dead. Numbly, Harry begin to worry that they thought he was dead too. It’s Remus who’s dead, Remus, Remus, Remus…

Harry didn’t realise that he was voicing the word. “Remus, Remus, Remus, Remus…” He didn’t seem able to repeating the name, until Madam Pomfrey came over and fed him a potion. Calming Draft, he realised as suddenly his worries left him and he felt as if he was floating on a sea of air, drifting freely. Mixed with Dreamless Sleep, he realised as his eyelids drifted closed and all conscious thought fled.

***

The next few days passed as if like a dream for Harry. He felt numb, and the concerned glances of his friends, and would-be helpful chats from his teachers all rolled past him, with none of their intended effect. He didn’t cry for Remus, he didn’t even think of him if he could help it.

It hurt too much to feel anything anymore, so he blocked it all out, leaving him cold and empty. Sometimes he felt worried that it seemed like all his emotions were leaving him, or rather, that he was pushing them out, but most of the time he didn’t let himself think about it.

The only time he let himself think about Remus, his Remus, was after dinner each evening, when he would retire up to the top of the South Tower with his Invisibility Cloak. It was a good place to be alone – all the aspiring lovers went to the more romantic Astronomy Tower, or hid in Filch’s broom cupboard. Harry went there to look at the stars and talk to Remus. Or rather, to talk to himself about the things that he would tell Remus, but even then he couldn’t seem to mourn, couldn’t seem to force out tears, or even anger. Until one night. It had been around a week since Remus had died, and Harry was, as usual at this hour, sitting on the cold stone floor of the South Tower and talking.

“You know, Remus, Hermione keeps pulling me aside and telling me that if I need to talk, she’s there. Everyone keeps insisting that I talk to them about it. I don’t see why, I talk to you, don’t I? I can’t tell her that though because she’d just think that I’m crazy, saying that I talk to you. I’m okay though, see? I can even say it now, I can say out loud: Remus is dead. You know that I couldn’t at first. I like talking to you, even though I doubt you can hear me. It seems to make it easier, though, like it doesn’t hurt so much anymore.”

Harry started when a deep voice sounded behind him. “Mr Potter, I would say that you are definitely not getting over this death.”

Harry spun around. “Professor Snape! I didn’t see you!”

Snape sneered at him. “That, Potter, is obvious. I came up here to speak with you, abhorrent as the idea is.”

Harry was still a little taken aback. “How did you know I was here?”

Snape’s expression grew even more derisive. “Oh, please. You come up here every night after supper, Potter, regular as clockwork. I have eyes, boy, and know how to use them, as alien as that concept may be to you.”

Harry flushed, but could not seem to dredge up the necessary amount of emotion within him to become angry, so he merely looked down and didn’t retaliate. This seemed to irritate his bad-tempered Professor even more. “Potter, it has come to my attention that you have not been Occluding. Are you so arrogant that you decided it was beneath you? After all the effort the Headmaster and I put into drilling the principles into your thick skull, I would have thought you would at least have the decency to at least try to Occlude!”

At last Harry felt the hot anger rise up within him. “Oh, it’s ‘the Headmaster and I’ is it? I don’t remember you doing any actual teaching. I learnt to Occlude with no thanks to you!”

“I notice you aren’t denying that you haven’t been putting your skills into practice, if that’s what you call them. Or maybe you’re just as ignorant as I always said and you can’t Occlude after all!”

“I can occlude! I just haven’t …” Harry bit his lip, realising that he’d just fallen straight into a trap and practically admitted that he had been failing to Occlude every night. In truth, he hadn’t thought it worth it. He seemed to feel so empty these days that he didn’t think there was anything in his mind worth looking for.

Snape sighed. “Potter, the Dark Lord is very pleased at the effect Lupin’s death has had on you. He has been gloating that you are becoming little more than an emotionless shell. He says that all your warmth is leaving you and says that soon you will be as cold as Lupin is now.” Snape’s face suddenly contorted, and he looked almost desperate. “You must not let that happen!”

Harry must have looked sceptical, because Snape took a step towards him and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Don’t you see, Potter? You’re letting him win! This is what he planned – he knew how close you were to Lupin, and he killed him to have precisely this effect on you. He’s making you lose all you’re positive emotion, and it has to stop now! You need to be warm again. There are plenty of people who still love you in the world, and so be grateful of that instead of acting like a washed out fool!”

With those words, Snape pulled an unresisting Harry into a tight hug. For a moment, Harry stood stiff and still in the embrace, but then he suddenly became aware of what was happening. He was poised to begin to struggle when he suddenly began to feel something strange. He tensed as he realised that Snape was forcing warmth into him, and not just normal body-heat, but that kind of warmth that Harry had come to associate with love and care. Harry began to squirm. He knew that Snape hated him, and Harry couldn’t stand the fact that Snape was holding him and forcing him to be warm. The only people who had ever hugged Harry did so out of love, and the warmth from them always filtered into Harry in a gentle way, not harsh and forced like this. Harry struggled against the hest invading him. He tried to block it, to force his body to remain cold and empty, but Snape was harsh and against his will, Harry found his body becoming warm again, as it had not been since Remus had died.

Finally, Snape let him go. Furious now, Harry stumbled a bit, but then turned on his Professor. “Why do you bother, Snape? Is it because you’re my father?”

Snape had turned away, but at those words turned slowly back to face the boy, an ugly glint in his eyes. “I think it would be better for both of us if that connection was never mentioned between us. I am attempting to forget that such a detestable relationship occurs.”

All at once, Harry’s anger left him and he felt tired and drained. “So, that’s it? You’re not even going to tell me how it happened? How Lily potter, whom everyone has told me was happily married to James Potter somehow managed to produce a child with you? Don’t you think I have the right to know?”

Snape gave a dark chuckle as he prepared to leave.

“I raped her, Potter.”

He slammed the door shut behind him as Harry flew at him with an enraged snarl. The boy crashed into the slammed door, and the laugh he heard on the other side only infuriated him further. Hands shaking, he yanked open the door and ran down the stairs, almost tripping over his own feet at every step. Once he reached the bottom, however, Snape was nowhere to be seen. Giving a howl of rage, Harry punched the wall next to him, and then slowly slid down so that he was sitting on the floor, leaning against the cold stone wall and cradling his hand.

***

Meanwhile, Snape had slipped through a secret passageway and was now standing outside Dumbledore’s Office.

“Come in, Severus.”

Snape, as usual, got straight to the point. “Headmaster, I have just returned from a meeting. The Dark Lord is inordinately pleased with the success of what he calls his ‘plan’ involving the death of Remus Lupin. He is ecstatic that Potter appears to be taking the death very hard, and made numerous references to Potter being very cold. However, there was something very strange about his wording. He never once specifically said ‘Lupin’s death’ but made oblique references to ‘the plan’ and ‘the prisoner’. I…”

He trailed off. Dumbledore, who had been looking dejected, sat up straighter and leaned forward. “Yes?”

Severus frowned. “It is obvious that there is some plot proceeding that I do not know of. The Dark Lord seemed very impatient throughout the meeting and was unusually lenient. He was in a great hurry to conclude the meeting and left immediately with Lucius Malfoy, muttering about ‘the prisoner.”

Dumbledore was looking very thoughtful but made no move to speak, so Snape continued with what had been bothering him. “Headmaster, I have a suspicion that Lupin is still alive, although I do not see how that is possible.”

Dumbledore leaned back again, looking extremely satisfied. “Thank-you Severus, that is most enlightening. I will have to think further on this.”

Recognising the dismissal, Snape turned to go, but paused when he heard Albus’ voice. “Severus, you really should talk to Harry about the nature of his conception. It is cruel to leave him in the dark and it would be excellent if you two could get over some of this prejudice against each other.”

Snape revelled in the shocked expression on the ancient face as he replied calmly. “But, Headmaster, I already have informed him.”

Snape smirked to himself as he strode back towards his chambers. Overall, it had been a very good evening. Now he just needed to find some curfew-breaking Gryffindors to take points from…

***

Late the next night, a hunched figure staggered up through the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witches and Wizardry. His breathing was erratic and he was limping severely. Somehow, the man managed to walk, stagger and crawl all the way to the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore’s Office. He gazed at it blankly for a moment, and it gazed blankly back. The he swayed and collapsed in a dead faint.

***

Harry sat at breakfast the next morning, mournfully spearing sausages onto his fork and picking at them, whilst casting hate-filled glares at Snape. The Professor didn’t notice. In fact, Harry could see now that all the teachers looked preoccupied, and Dumbledore and McGonagall weren’t even there. Just as Harry thought this, the Transfiguration teacher came hurrying in, and walked straight over to him.

“Potter, follow me. There’s someone here you need to see.”

Surprised, Harry rose to his feet. Ron opened his mouth to say something, but their Head of House cut him off. “Later, Mr Weasley. I’m sure you’ll find out what this is about soon enough.”

Meekly, Harry followed her as she swept ahead of him. He was surprised to see they were heading to the Hospital Wing. He felt a small moment of panic that Snape had told everyone that he was talking to himself last night. What if they think I’ve gone crazy? I wouldn’t put it past Snape to spread it around the school… His fear receded, however, when he realised that McGonagall had said there was someone to see him.

Professor Dumbledore was waiting for them. “Harry, my boy. I daresay you are a little confused, but before I let you see who is waiting for you, because I know he is very anxious to see you, I must just reassure you that this is not a trick. What you will see behind that screen is perfectly true. I would not hurt you again, and I have made perfectly sure that there is no falsity surrounding this person.”

Harry felt more confused than ever, but he nodded and then took in a deep breath before walking forward and looking around the screen.

Lying in a bed, looking incredibly tired and ill, sat one Remus Lupin.

For a moment, Harry thought he was going to faint. A memory flashed before his eyes: he was lying on the hard ground, with dull amber eyes looking straight into his…

Whipping out his wand, he gave a hoarse cry and prepared to curse whoever this intruder was, but Dumbledore had grabbed his hand and restrained him. “It is really him, Harry. The man you saw dead was the impostor.”

Remus, or whoever he was, spoke up then. “Harry…”

Harry closed his eyes for a moment. The sound of that dear voice…but he had to be sure. Fixing a glare on his face, he looked straight at the man. “What did you say to me the night you left to go on the mission?” He thought that question was a safe bet – it wasn’t anything important enough that Voldemort would bother torturing out of the real Remus.

The man in the bed smiled gently. “I said that you were my pack – my cub. I said that I had come to love you, not just as the son of my pack-mate, but as your own person – a brave, caring young man. I told you that I loved you very much.”

Harry let out a breath he did not realise he’d been holding. The love in the man’s eyes was almost tangible in its intensity. Harry wanted to rush straight into his arms, but restrained himself with his two Professors still standing behind him. As if reading his mind, Professor Dumbledore squeezed his shoulder slightly. “You have been given the day off classes, Harry. I believe you have much to talk about with Remus here. I’m sure you want to know what exactly happened, but I believe that can wait until lunch. I’ll come up here and eat with you.”

Harry hardly heard the words, nor did he really notice when the two left. He could only stare at Remus – the only father he ever had, whom he thought was dead but was now sitting here before him, pale and weak, but alive.

Remus smiled softly at him, and then opened his arms wide in invitation. Choking back a sob, Harry flew towards him, but caught himself at the last moment and sat cautiously on the edge of the bed, mindful of Remus’ injuries.

Remus reached up and touched his cheek with one finger. “It’s alright, cub.”

Harry couldn’t help himself then, he pitched forward desperately into the loving arms and started to sob against Remus’ shoulder. There were so many things he had to say, so many things he had to understand, but for now he was content to lie in the gentle embrace, Remus’ heartbeat reassuring against his ear, and the man’s fingers slowly combing though his hair. Suddenly he felt a desperate urge to say what he wished he had said those few days ago.

“I love you, Remus, I really do.”

Remus held him just that little bit closer. “I know, cub. And I love you too.”