The next few days went by uneventfully. Snape kept mostly to himself, which suited Harry just fine. The only times he saw the man were in the mornings and evenings when Harry went to the kitchen to make breakfast and dinner. At first he wondered whether he was required to make food for them both, as he rarely saw Snape eat anything. But Snape never said a word about it and made a habit of ignoring Harry as much as possible.
Harry spent his time wandering around Grimmauld Place, steadfastly ignoring Sirius" old room. He had found some interesting books in the library and he would often peruse them on the sofa by the fireplace. He also took the time to write to his friends, making sure not to explicitly mention anything about Snape or Headquarters. But as his friends already knew these things, he had fun coming up with codenames, especially for Snape. He snickered as he reread his correspondence with Ron over the past few days, which were laden with words like "bat", "vampire", "Mr. Greasy" and "Slimeball."
When books and letters could not keep him entertained anymore, he went up to explore the attic and found that it was full of dusty, old antiques. Deciding it would keep him occupied at the very least, and out of Snape's hair at the very best, he started dusting and cleaning. It actually proved to be fun. He compared it to a treasure hunt, every time he cleaned off a section he found the most surprising objects and artefacts.
After a while his stomach made itself heard and he realised it was well into the evening. He came down the stairs and went into the kitchen, the smell of food entering his nostrils. He saw Snape sitting at the table, surprisingly with a plate of food in front of him and taking bites after he finished each paragraph in the book next to his plate. He made no indication that he knew Harry was there, but Harry knew of the man's perceptiveness. Harry chose to ignore Snape in favour of abating his hunger and went to make some food. He stilled for a moment as he saw there was pot of stewed meat, some peas and mashed potatoes sitting on the stove. Did Snape make all that?
"You may take what's left," he heard Snape's low voice say.
Harry felt his eyebrows shoot up in surprise and he threw a glance over his shoulder at Snape. The man had not moved from his position and continued eating and reading.
"Err... yes, thank you sir," Harry said awkwardly and set himself to loading up his plate.
He sat down at the table, on the far other end from Snape who didn't seem to mind. He took a tentative bite, fleetingly marvelling at his own bravery for eating something Snape cooked without testing it for poison first. He was surprised to find out it was actually good! It was not Mrs. Weasley good, but it definitely came close. Who would have known that the greasy dungeon bat had such a knack for cooking?
He picked up his pace, shoving down bite after bite. He had not realised he had been this hungry, but as he looked at the clock above the door and saw that it was 8.30 pm already, he wasn't surprised. It did make him wonder why Snape ate this late. An image of Snape waiting for him to come down to dinner crossed his mind, and he shoved it away with an inward laugh.
"If you get an ulcer from your disgusting eating habits, do not expect me to help you," Snape grumbled from the other end of the table without looking at him.
Harry just shrugged. If he had a heart attack right now, Snape would not help him either. But he did continue eating at a slower pace, the initial peak of his hunger stilled.
"Potter!"
Harry jumped at Snape's loud voice and found his dark eyes finally looking in his direction. Now what? But Snape's eyes were not focused on his own, instead they seemed to take in the rest of his appearance.
"What in Merlin's name have you been doing?"
Harry looked down at his clothing and found that they were covered in dust and spider webbings. He reached up a hand to comb his hair and it came off with webs as well. He looked back at Snape who was impatiently waiting for him to answer.
"Err, I was up in the attic."
"Doing what?" Snape levelled out, crossing his arms.
"Cleaning," Harry said flatly. He kept his eyes steadily on Snape's, daring him to find fault in his answer.
Snape raised one eyebrow at him but refrained from questioning his cleaning activities.
"And you truly had nothing better to do?"
Harry remained silent, not sure what the man was getting at.
"One would think that this time of solitude would provide ample opportunity to get some schoolwork done, especially as your knowledge of the most basic potions leaves much to be desired."
Snape gave him a knowing look, obviously referring to Harry's lag in recognising the Calming Draught he gave him earlier.
Harry gritted his teeth. He almost believed Snape was capable of being somewhat civil after he had made him food, but of course the man was insufferable.
"I know what that potion is! This is hardly the first time I have used it you know," Harry gritted out. "And as for my homework, it is still in my trunk upstairs and that is still shrinked, so -"
A thud was heard from the hallway and Snape held up his hand to silence him. He motioned for Harry to stay put as he stood up and went out the kitchen with his wand in hand. Harry sat for only a minute before getting up and walking to the door. He did not care for Snape's orders.
He almost collided with Snape as he returned and went back in the kitchen. He glared furiously at Harry, but Harry ignored him for there was someone else behind Snape, smiling at him.
"Remus!"
Remus stepped around Snape and rested his hands on Harry's shoulders. Harry took in Remus' appearance and noticed his robes were filthy and torn, more so than usual. But the man smiled at him brilliantly, letting him know he was okay.
"You alright Harry?"
Harry nodded at him and smiled back, feeling the worry he had for the man's wellbeing over the past week lessen.
"You are late, Lupin," Snape said darkly.
Remus let go of Harry's shoulders, satisfied that he was fine and turned to Snape.
"Yes, Severus. Unfortunately, some unexpected things came up that delayed my return and I was unable to contact you timely." If Remus was at all perturbed at Snape's dark mood, he did not show it.
Snape looked like he wanted to say something in reply but Harry beat him to it.
"Where were you, Remus? Did it have something to do with the Order?"
Remus shot a look at Snape but only got a glare back from him. He then turned to Harry and shook his head.
"I'm sorry Harry, but I can't tell you exactly what I was doing. Dumbledore's orders."
Harry felt the familiar anger flare again.
"Dumbledore told you not to say anything? Even though he admitted to me it was a mistake to withhold information from me?"
"Headmaster Dumbledore," Snape intervened, "feels that any information given to you is to be monitored closely, lest it falls into the wrong hands."
"I haven't had any vision from Voldemort since last term, if that's what you mean," Harry retorted.
Snape stepped closer to Harry, who stood his ground.
"Do NOT say that name, Potter!" Snap spat at him. "And it does not matter if you have been seeing snippets of his mind or not, when the point is that he might be tapping into yours!"
"If Dumbledore thinks Voldemort can access my mind whenever he wants, it would be GREAT if someone told me!" Harry balled his fists. "What good will it do to keep me in the dark all the time? How will I know what to expect when something happens?"
Snape looked livid.
"And what will you do with that information? You are not a member of the Order, Potter! You are just an insolent child with a tendency to stick his nose where it doesn't belong. This is a war, people's lives are at stake. And you're complaining about not getting all the details?" Snape scoffed. "Your arrogance truly knows no limits. It astounds me how much like your father you are, he also did not care about the wellbeing of others, or the sacrifices that were made to ensure their safety. Always running headlong into the fire, acting like the hero while putting others in danger."
Snape righted himself and took a step back.
"Just for once, Potter, do as you are told and let the ADULTS handle this."
Harry glared at the man, not caring that Snape could see the anger in his mind. This was HIS war too, more so than they probably realised. He HAD to know the details, HAD to know what he was up against. It pained him that no one seemed to understand that.
"Now, now," Remus intervened uncertainly. "I'm sure Dumbledore will be able to tell you more whenever he is available, Harry. Wasn't he due to come by sometime this week, Severus?"
But Snape didn't answer. Instead he clutched his left arm as if he got burned with a hot frying pan. He tried to keep his face as impassive as possible but Harry could see him clenching his teeth. There was a brief moment where he could not hide his wince, his small grimace of pain.
"Severus?" Remus asked tentatively.
"I have to go," Snape said through clenched teeth. The two man shared a look and realisation dawned on Remus. He nodded at Snape with determination.
"I'll wait up for you."
"Don't bother, Lupin," Snape sneered, having regained some of his composure. He left the kitchen swiftly, grabbed a cloak from the coat rack and went out the front door.
"Ahem, well, it'll be just the two of us for the rest of the evening. What do you say to having some tea with me in the drawing room?" Remus clasped a hand on Harry's shoulder and tried to lighten the mood.
Harry nodded in reply, but his thoughts turned back to Snape as he watched Remus put a kettle on the fire. Of course he knew Snape had been a Death Eater back in the day and had been a spy for Dumbledore since the first war. But he had never seen him actually get called away and it unnerved him. He had a hard time imagining having to go back to Voldemort's circle on a regular basis, remembering the fear and helplessness he had felt whenever he ended up in Voldemort's clutches. He shuddered. No, he did not envy anyone who had to be around that monster.
But with that thought also came the apprehensive question of Snape's loyalty. Who would willingly put himself in mortal danger every time, just to get information? And for what? What did Snape get out of this? He wasn't a very social person and did not interact much with other adults so Harry could not imagine him having many, or any, friends to fight for. At least not on the light side of the war...
So, who was to say that Snape could be trusted? Everyone always says that Dumbledore trusts him, so there is no reason not to trust Snape. But Harry could not feel too comfortable with that idea, with him having some trust issues with Dumbledore as well. Dumbledore could be wrong, the man was not infallible.
Hermione's voice played in his head, telling him that they were wrong to mistrust Snape before, that Snape had saved Harry's live on numerous occasions in the past. But Harry waved it away as he wondered what Snape's goal was in doing so. Did he only do it to please Dumbledore? Somehow Harry could not imagine him the pleasing type. But what was it then?
Harry was shaken out of his reverie by Remus handing him a cup of tea and steering him to the drawing room. Harry sat down on the sofa while Remus settled in the armchair, warming his hands on the hot cup contently. Harry suddenly wondered how long it had been since Remus had been able to sit down and relax, enjoy food and drinks and take a shower. He also just noticed the lines of fatigue on Remus face had deepened since he last saw him.
Remus looked at him over his teacup.
"You know, staring a hole in my forehead won't get you anywhere," Remus winked. "A penny for your thoughts?"
"I'm just glad you're safe. I was worried about you," Harry admitted.
Remus sighed and took a sip from his tea.
"Snape wouldn't tell me anything about your whereabouts or when you would return," Harry continued, not quite able to conjure up the heat of frustration he felt earlier.
Remus smiled sadly at him. "I'm sorry, Harry. The last thing I wanted was for you to worry over me."
Harry nodded in understanding. Of course, it wasn't Remus' fault but that did not make him feel any better about it.
For a while they both remained silent, slowly sipping their tea and seemingly deep in their own thoughts. Then, suddenly, Remus started talking.
"I cannot tell you where I was exactly, or with whom," Remus started staring at the fireplace. "But I can tell you some of the task I was on. I met with some people that I know from my time abroad, from a time well before the second war started. I knew these people well, and have worked with them before on all kinds of... projects, you can call them. I was to convince them to aid us in the war against Voldemort."
Remus took another sip from his tea but did not continue, lost in thought.
"What happened?" Harry prodded.
Remus glanced at him, stirred from his thoughts, and seemed to measure him.
"There was an attack," he said.
Harry's eyes widened. "Did Voldemort...?"
But Remus shook his head. "It wasn't Voldemort, nor any of his followers."
Harry looked at him in confusion. Who else was out there attacking people?
"Have you ever heard anything about the Southern Raiders?" Remus asked.
Harry shook his head in denial, wondering if there was yet another enemy they had to look out for.
"I would imagine not. They are not as widely known in the northern parts of Europe. They are a small group of people who believe in the purity of wizarding blood above all else, including muggles and half-bloods."
When he saw Harry's frown at this, Remus continued. "Yes, it is quite similar to Voldemort's beliefs. However, the Southern Raiders started out as a sort of peaceful group of protesters. They tried to convince people of their beliefs by going from door to door, handing out pamphlets and what not. Leaving people they could not convince alone. They never did any more than that until the first war with Voldemort ended. It's as if they suddenly saw their chance to take the stage with him out of the way. They never admitted to an alliance with Voldemort, wanting to distance themselves from him even. But it would not surprise me if there were some Voldemort sympathizers among their ranks."
"But even then they were not as ruthless as Voldemort's supporters. They never killed in large masses, instead opting to take over villages and small cities and condemn muggles and half-bloods to hard labour for their own gain."
Remus paused to refill his and Harry's teacup and Harry was impatient for him to continue.
"They were not secretive about their plans and raids at all. They operated in broad daylight and everyone knew what they were doing, when and where. That's probably why they were so easy to take down. Not two years after the first war ended, the Aurors of those regions had rounded them up, effectively ending their raids."
Remus leaned back in his chair, visibly relaxing his shoulders.
Harry frowned. "But, if they were stopped all those years ago, how can they have attacked you now?"
"I'm not sure. You can imagine my surprise at finding out the attack was their doing. Though the Aurors have put a stop to them in the past, some of them must have been able to avoid being caught and managed to lay low for all those years. But the raid in Florence was unlike any I have seen before, dozens of people killed, village burnt down..."
"Florence? You were in Italy?" Harry asked surprised.
Remus looked a little guilty, as if he had let information slip unintentionally.
"Err... yes. Yes I was." He scratched the back of his head.
"So, because of the attack, you were not able to convince your... acquaintances to join our side?" Harry offered.
Remus shook his head. "My negotiations were brutally interrupted. However I still hold hope that they will be persuaded next time. Now they have seen what this one-sided vision on blood-purity can bring about."
"You can't be planning to go back there, right?"
"I can and I will, Harry," Remus said as he stood up and set his now empty cup on the coffee table.
"This is a war, and I will do anything in my power to make sure the odds tip in our favour. And you must do so as well Harry, but not by deciding to run off on your own." When Harry opened his mouth to protest he added, "However well intended."
"And also trust us to make the right decisions with the available information and accept that we cannot tell you everything."
"Then why are you telling me all this, Remus?" Harry asked deflated, referring to the story of Remus' mission.
Remus came around and knelt before Harry so they were on the same eye level.
"Because I trust you Harry. I sometimes forget you're not the thirteen year old boy I met a couple of years ago, who had trouble fighting off his own fears. You are becoming a man, and however much I would like to spare you from the horrors of this war, I know that it is inevitable. You know about it, have seen it, have experienced it even. You know of sacrifice and loss. And I trust that you will move forward with caution."
Harry swallowed around a lump in his throat and averted his eyes. "I miss him, Remus," he whispered.
Remus nodded and smiled sadly. "I do too."
Remus squeezed his shoulder and Harry drew comfort in the gesture. He knew that Remus would never be able to take up the place in Harry's life that Sirius had now left empty, but it helped to know that the man would always be there for him and that they shared the same loss.
"Now, time for bed I think." They got up and Remus steered Harry in the direction of the stairs with a hand on his back. They arrived at Harry's bedroom and Remus turned to say goodnight.
"Oh I forgot!" Harry picked up a tiny trunk from his nightstand. "Could you...?"
Remus chuckled at him but drew his wand. "Gryffindor bravery has its limits I see," he said teasingly as he unshrunk Harry's trunk. Harry grinned at him, knowing that he was referring to him not asking Snape for help.
"It's not so much a lack of bravery, I guess, but more of a mutual agreement not to bother each other," he said and nodded his thanks to the older man for unshrinking his trunk. Remus laughed at that.
"Goodnight, Harry," Remus said as he stood in the doorway.
"Goodnight, Remus."
Chapter 5 The Southern Raiders