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.”