“Harry,” Severus had said, not looking away from the potion he was tending to, “I will be going away for some time this summer.”

Harry's stomach plummeted. His face, while slightly paler, betrayed nothing of his internal disappointment and pain. “Okay,” he muttered.

“Manners,” Severus snapped, and then calmly continued, “I am told I am expected to make an appearance at a Potions Convention in Bern. I will be gone for two weeks and… I am…unable to bring you like I had originally planned.”

By now Harry was well aware of the Professor's tendency not to say anything he wasn't sure about, or make a promise he couldn’t keep. Like their private lessons in the summer: Harry never knew beforehand what they would be doing, because the man did not enjoy crushing hopes or feelings because of his own failures or shortcomings. So, yes, in a way Harry understood perfectly why Professor Snape chose to ‘drop the bomb’, so to speak, five days into the holidays. Had Harry known, only to be told he couldn't come… Yes, Harry thought, that would have been much worse.

“However, I have been able to make…plans for you. You will regrettably be staying with Lupin.”

“Professor Lupin?” Severus nodded curtly, but Harry smiled. “He’s rather nice, you know, sir? Maybe it won't be so bad, then.”

-x-

Remus' cottage was cosy, Harry decided as he curled up on his small camp bed. It was homely and inviting, perfectly reflecting the man's kind, caring personality. Yawning and closing his eyes, Harry made a mental note to cook the gentle man a tasty breakfast in the morning.

-x-

“Merlin's Beard!” Wide-eyed, Harry twirled around, spatula in hand and brandished like a wand. He hated people sneaking up on him. Sirius' eyes widened, and then he chuckled at the somewhat comical picture his godson made. Taking a deep breath through his nose, he sighed appreciatively. “Right now, I'm loving that you didn't inherit either James' total failure to cook, or Lily's inclination for dangerous culinary experiments…”

“Thank you, sir,” Harry said cautiously. “Do you live here as well?”

Sirius shook his head. “Visiting. Is Moony up?”

“Does it look like it?” Sirius shook his head. Harry snorted, already turning back to his cooking. “There you go then, Mr Black. Scamper off with you, now, sir!”

The man obediently went. Harry refocused his attention. One more stomach to fill…Harry bit his lip. Pancakes and toast was doable, wasn't it?

-x-

“I'm so sorry about this, Harry,” Remus said once again. They were sitting under a large tree, its canopy shielding them from most of the rain pouring from the open skies and a protective dome covering up the rest.

They had been hiking when out of nowhere it had started to rain, instantly drenching them and turning the trail they had been following into mud. They had turned and blindly ran towards the tree they were now waiting under, but because of the weather, they had no way of figuring out where they'd come from.

“It's not so bad,” Harry murmured, thinking back on all those times he'd been stuck outside in the rain as a child, weeding and gardening until he was shivering and turning blue. “It's kind of nice, in a way, sir.”

By the time it had begun to turn dark, Remus had created a small fire to warm them as the chill of the night set in. He cautiously asked, “Why do you live with Severus, Harry?” Harry froze, his face a perfect stony mask. “I must admit I'm curious. Albus told me sometimes of you and how you were doing – it never…nothing I was told would warrant you moving in with a professor.”

“…or me in Slytherin,” Harry muttered.

“Oh, I don't know.” Remus smiled. “Cunning, an ability to assess situations quickly and thoroughly aren't bad traits, Harry.”

“You think so, sir?”

Remus nodded. “Absolutely, Harry. Lily would have been very proud of you, and James, well, there was no one he feared as much as an irate, wrathful Lily.”

“Oh,” Harry said softly.

The fire was crackling and enticing. Staring into it was soothing and Harry's eyelids began drooping. He was leaning against something warm and comfortable, he registered that much with a yawn. But beyond the fact that it was dry, he really didn't care what it was, so long as it didn't disappear. The sounds of the wilderness were strangely familiar; it was almost like the sounds in his cupboard when he was little, except these were made by nature: animals talking and trees moving, rain falling hard and wind blowing. When an arm came up and slowly rested around his shoulders, Harry didn't notice at first. Then he flinched violently and wrenched himself away, arms covering his head, eyes wide and wild.

“Harry?” Remus' voice was clearly concerned, and as Harry calmed, he flushed slowly with shame and tentatively lowered his arms.

“I-I'm sorry.” Harry bit his lip and muttered, “I don't like people touching me.”

“Not werewolves?”

Harry blinked and frowned. “Eh?” Then he gasped, “Oh! Right. Sorry, sir.”

Remus frowned. He beckoned him closer. “Come back here, Harry, you're shivering!” Biting his lip, Harry nodded and moved back, stiffly sitting back down next to Remus. “Do you believe in promises, Harry?”

“Sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“When they are…” Harry trailed off, thinking of his Uncle, and his cousin and his gang… He had sort of believed in their promises, but he had always tried his hardest to break them and make sure they didn't happen, but then there was Severus… “When they're from Severus I believe in them.”

“Why is that?”

“He doesn't…he's…his promises are nice, sir, and he always keeps them.”

Remus regarded him seriously for several long moments, where Harry found himself incapable of ceasing his fidgeting. “So if I promise something nice, will you believe me then?”

“Probably.”

“Well, then—” and Remus arm came back, once again resting around Harry's shoulders to tug him closer. Only this time, Harry couldn't break free, because no matter how hard he tried, he just wasn't able to match a werewolf's strength. “—Here is my promise to you, Harry: I will never lay a hand on you, harm you or in any other way hurt you.” Gently, Remus said, “would you believe that?”

Harry bit his lip and shrugged with difficulty. “I'm terrified, sir,” he whispered weakly.

“You don’t have to—”

“I know. I know I don’t, but I am.”

-x-

A couple of hours earlier, Harry had raided Remus' bookshelves with a delighted grin; the man had books like his Professor and they were equally as interesting. Seeing as the weather was lovely, he had bounded outside with his treasures in tow and managed to get both himself and the books situated quite comfortably in the shade provided by the swing seat.

Swing seats were deliriously comfortable, he quickly decided, cushioned and shaded and Harry quickly decided that when he had a home of his own, he'd buy one. Picking a book randomly, Harry settled down to read.

The thick tome he'd randomly decided on was rather fascinating, detailing several charms and a variety of ambiguous ways to use them. Like the Levitation Charm, and how, if tweaked a bit, one could use it while appearing to be meditating and cause oneself to float. Rather harmless, Harry thought personally, but the author of the book clearly disagreed, claiming it to be foul and deceiving Muggles. Then there were the various ways to charm animals into doing someone's bidding by appearing very attractive to the animal in question. Like, for instance, carrying the scent of a worthy mate.

-x-

“Moony!”

“What is it, Sirius?”

“That-that boy! Look at him!”

Remus looked up from his own book and smiled. “He looks rather at peace, doesn't he?”

“It's a scandal! He's like you: a little bookworm.”

-x-

“Harry!”

Harry hummed, eyes never leaving the page he was reading.

“Oh, come on, Harry, you're worse than Moony!”

“Moony?” Harry absently questioned.

“Remus.”

“He's nice,” came the mumble as Harry turned a page. He started as the swing seat was jostled, its even, rhythmic swaying disrupted. Sirius was staring down at him, looking both disapproving and mischievous. “Mr Black?”

Sirius grimaced. “I'd really rather you call me Sirius, Harry.”

“Okay?”

Sirius studied him for a short moment, grey eyes calculating. “Do you know how to fly a broom?”

“It's still taught at Hogwarts in First Year.”

“Yes.” Sirius grinned. “But do you know how to fly a broom?”

Hesitantly, Harry shook his head.

“Ah,” Sirius exclaimed, “then we are going flying!”

Twenty minutes later, Harry was soaring through the skies on a brand new broom, an elated smile on his face and eyes half closed. Sirius, left on the ground, was staring in awe and laughing, gesticulating at Harry while talking ecstatically to Remus.

-x-

It was a boy with windswept hair and tanned complexion that Severus came to pick up roughly a week later. Harry was bent over a book, mouthing words to himself and diligently reading, but by the state of his clothes and the wilder than usual hair, the man swiftly deducted that there was something…more to it, this time.

“Lupin.”

“Hello to you, too, Severus.”

Severus sneered. “I trust you are…well?”

“Yes, yes, I'm fine. How was Bern?”

Severus inclined his head. “Acceptable.”

“No new major breakthroughs?”

“Indeed not. For someone as abysmal as you, they would appear quite…insignificant.”

Remus chuckled softly. “I have no doubt.”

“Hmmm,” Severus snorted. “I trust Harry has behaved?”

“Extremely, of course. Exceptional cook, that one.”

Severus stilled, his face becoming so void of emotions that Remus, for a short moment, almost feared the man. “Cooking, you say?” Severus voice was icy, soft and absolutely terrifying.

Remus nodded. “Yes, yes. He's done that quite a bit, insisting on it and kicking me out if I try to help…”

Something Remus said seemed to relax Severus slightly. Remus curiously wondered what it was, but he knew better than to ask.

“Sirius bought him a broom.” Severus glared darkly, about to curse something(one), no doubt, but Remus held up a hand and shook his head. “Oh,” Remus said, clearly amused, “let's just say he inherited James' skills with a broom, and then some.”

Severus' eyes widened subtly. “Is that so?

-x-

“Harry.”

Harry looked up from his book, ears red. “Yes, sir?”

Severus narrowed his eyes, then snatched the boy's book away. Harry made a feeble attempt to get it back, then shrank back as Severus stared levelly at him, raising an eyebrow. “You are not yet fourteen, lad. It is far too early to think about such things.”

“It is?” Harry asked tentatively, carefully.

Professor Snape cleared his throat. “Let's save this conversation for another day in another location.”

“Sure.” A glare. “I mean, yes, sir.”

Severus closed Harry's book and gave it back. “I hear Black gave you a…broom.”

And Harry nodded, all bright eyes and shy smiles, his face flushed by giddy excitement. “I didn't know flying could be so fun, you know? When Madame Hooch taught us in First Year, I was too scared to mess up to really try, you know, sir.”

“You are aware I cannot permit you to fly at home.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yes, Severus, I do know that. No need to further traumatise the Muggles.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Further?”

Harry smirked. “They think I'm your son. Haven't you heard? And they're all trying to figure out when you had a wife and how that could possibly have happened when you are so rude and dislike women, and, well.” Harry shrugged impishly. “It's fun listening to. Some say you kidnapped me. Some say you're using me for 'favours'. The kids are the most amusing, you know? They think you're a vampire and that I'm your special apprentice, who go out during the days and lure innocent girls back so you can eat them.”

“I gather,” Severus said dryly, “that you are doing your utmost to provoke them into even more far-fetched theories.”

“Yes, sir. My very best.”

“Imp,” Severus muttered and Harry grinned.

“But I can keep it, right? The broom?”

“If you wish.”