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.”