Transitus Aetas

Chapter 3:

After Dumbledore left the infirmary, Harry had only seconds to prepare himself for his first out-of-time experience. An experience that left him bewildered and very shaken -- nearly as much as the time travel itself had.

The Headmaster's robes had barely enough time to follow him out of the door before a seventeen-year-old Remus Lupin barged through the sick room's threshold.

Gold eyes filled with emotion -- determination, a slight hint of anger, and quite a bit of curiosity -- the werewolf marched right up to Harry's bed and leaned closer to him than Harry ever thought would be possible without outright touching, let loose a flood of questions.

"Why do you look so much like James?" The Gryffindor asked demandingly.

Having enough sense to attempt to look confused, Harry scooted sideways and a little bit away from the intense gaze of his former-- er, eventual, professor and tried to respond.

"Who's --" Only to be cut off by another question.

"Why were you wearing Gryffindor robes?"

Harry again opened his mouth, "I--"

The golden eyes again moved in to stop only inches from his own.

"How'd you know my name out by the lake?"

Harry's eyes widened. Had he mentioned Lupin's name when he'd been unconscious? He did talk in his sleep...

The Gryffindor-Turned-Slytherin moved away from the werewolf again, "Wha--"

"Why’d you transfer to Hogwarts?"

"Becau--"

Again Remus moved closer and Harry again slid over the sheets trying to keep his distance from the other boy.

"Why did Professor Dumbledore allow your transfer so late in your seventh year?"

"My--"

"Why did he do it at all? He never accepts transfers! What’s your name, anyway?"

"I’m Ha--"

"And which house were you sorted into? Gryffindor, I assume, since those were the robes you were wearing."

"No, actually I--"

"Where exactly are you from?"

Remus’ face was once more only inches from his own. This time, however, when Harry tried to escape the fierce gaze, there was nowhere to go and the green eyed boy promptly tumbled over the edge of his sick bed.

"Are you all right?!"

The Gryffindor let out the worried exclamation and rushed to Harry's side, moving as if to help him up.

Harry made a sound of protest and crawled backwards a few inches on his hands, preparing for another barrage of questions. Remus noticed his motions and had the grace to smile sheepishly.

"Sorry about getting carried away with all that. You unnerved me a bit when I found you and I get a little aggressive when I’m nervous."

Harry nodded slowly, that did make sense. The wolf’s instincts were a part of Remus and aggression in this form was likely to be conveyed differently than the snapping and biting shown during the full moon.

Carefully, he shifted into a position so that he could stand and was surprised to find two hands helping him up. When he was standing, he looked at Remus.

"Thanks. I’m Harry Po--, uh," Harry cleared his throat and tried to think quickly, "Harry Paul Granger. Pleasure to meet your acquaintance. My aunt and I lived in Paris, France and just recently she died. She wasn’t the nicest person but she looked after me when my parents died, and there really wasn’t more I could have asked for. She always hated that I hadn't been able to get into Hogwarts and it was pretty much her dying wish that I had. She never thought I had been good enough. So, when Professor Dumbledore heard about that, he extended an invitation for me to attend school here.

This being my last year at school, and Hogwarts being the one of the best wizarding schools ever heard of, I accepted. Before I came I went robes shopping and could only find Gryffindor robes, so I bought them hoping that they could be changed when I got here," Harry glanced down at the garments in question which were now sporting the Slytherin House symbol with a bit of magic from Dumbledore he supposed, "And apparently they have. I was given a port-key, which I seem to have strange allergy-like reactions to on the best of days, and it so happened that I arrived where you found me, not where I was supposed to, unfortunately. I woke up here, was asked a few questions by the Headmaster and sorted into Slytherin. Have I answered all of your questions?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, hoping that he had thrown Remus off his train of thought enough to suitably distract him, by answering so many questions at once. He really didn't want to have to answer some of the more difficult questions that the werewolf had thrown at him.

Remus flushed a bit from embarrassment and focused on a space of wall right over Harry's shoulder.

"Uh, sure," the seventeen year old muttered, wholly feeling the intense green gaze that had settled upon him.

What in the world was going on? This boy looked so much like James, and yet he was sorted into Slytherin? And so late in the year? Certainly, this 'Harry' had answered his questions, but with much too much calm to be believed, or so it seemed to Remus.

The werewolf shifted from foot to foot uneasily as the green eyes watching him seemed to gain interest and burn through him, leaving a fire-hot trail that settled somewhere in the pit of his stomach, weighing him down like a stone.

This was too much, he needed space to collect his thoughts, figure out what --other than the fact that he was a near carbon copy of James-- was so familiarly striking about this new boy. And with those emerald orbs concentrated solely on him, the presence of one, Harry Paul Granger, was not the place in which to think.

"Erm, I just remembered, I've got some, uh, work to finish. Welcome to Hogwarts, Harry. I'll see you."

Harry blinked, breaking free of the daze that had surrounded him while he had been staring at the other boy, and watched as Remus beat a hasty retreat from the infirmary. He nibbled on his lip thoughtfully. He'd always subconsciously known that Professor Lupin was handsome, in a purely aesthetic way that is, but he'd never really dwelt on it.

Just now, however, getting the chance to look at his professor as his equal had sent a shock to his system and shattered Harry's clinical analysis of his teacher's physique. Remus Lupin was a dead sexy seventeen year-old. Unfortunately for Harry, there wasn't much time to digest this new piece of information as a new person walked into the infirmary.

----

"Here is your room, Mr. Granger, I hope you find it well enough to your liking. I disagree that you should be allowed your won room out of the Slytherin dorms but Albus says that you need room to grieve. Be that as it may, Mr. Granger, I do not believe in mollycoddling my students. As your head of house, I expect you to interact with the other students in Slytherin.

Since, however, I cannot override Headmaster Dumbledore’s decision to place you in separate sleeping quarters, I expect you to be at the Slytherin table for every meal and at all of the Quidditch games. This is so that you will be able to interact with your housemates and show suitable house pride. The consequences will be grave if you disobey one of these stipulations without good reason. And, Granger, there are only two good reasons that I will accept. That you are either on your death bed or paralyzed, preferably both at the same time, understand?"

Harry swallowed, intimidated --more so than he ever would have liked to admit-- by his new head of house, and nodded, knowing the man was expecting an answer. Ice chips of eyes narrowed as Harry gave no verbal response.

"You will address me as sir, Granger, and be polite enough to make a dignified, verbal response when I am speaking to you."

Harry's eyes widened behind his glasses. No wonder Snape was such a snarky git, he had so much to live up to --or down to in this case. He'd only known this man for a few moments, and he was already getting creepy vibes off of him worse than he'd ever felt with Snape.

His potions' professor was an arse, but this guy was definitely evil. If the ice in his eyes didn't prove it, the ice in his demeanor did.

"Yes sir, Professor Daawk." It took pretty much all of Harry's will power to force his voice to work. He felt mildly faint, and that in itself was something. Considering that he was a Gryffindo-- er, that he had been a Gryffindor, that is.

"The next meal is in half an hour, I expect you to be there promptly. The password to your room at the moment is 'Salazar'. You are allowed to change it; however, you must keep Dumbledore and myself advised of your password at all times. I shall see you in the Great Hall, use the time you have to get acquainted with your quarters, if not settled into them."

And with those parting words, Professor Daawk disappeared. At least, it seemed as if he had. One moment the professor was there, the next he was not; Harry hadn't seen him leave. And if that wasn’t disappearing, not much was. Odd, how Harry had known him for a few moments, and malevolence seemed to roll off of him in waves. It seemed that his potions grades twenty years in the past weren't going to improve any.

Sighing he turned to the portal portrait that he assumed he'd been brought to, only to suck in a deep breath. This was the room... He stared, shocked, at the moonlit forest painting --definitely not the portrait he'd been expecting, although, he hadn't actually been expecting any one in particular.

He hadn't been paying attention to where Professor Daawk had been leading him, preoccupied with not upsetting his head of house before he'd even been in this era for 3 hours. And while the good professor had been lecturing him, his attention had been more fixed on his trainers than anything around him. Perhaps that was a good thing, the Slytherin Head hadn't been there to see his surprise, and that meant he didn't have to make up any on-the-spot lies. Although Harry seriously doubted that Professor Daawk would have believed any lie that he would have been able to make up.

Really, though, the situation just kept getting stranger and stranger, and he really hoped that this was the extent of the strange happenings. No sooner than he thought the words did Harry groan aloud. Of course it was going to get stranger, he was Harry James bloody Potter! Not here though, his mind reminded him, unhelpfully. Here, he was Harry Paul Granger. Here he had a chance to get to know the people who were long dead before his memory had been able to record them.

Thoughtfully, Harry ran a finger down the frame of the picture. Maybe that was actually true to an extent, he was being given the chance he had always wanted, wasn't he? He smiled slightly and whispered the password --which he made a note to change as quickly as possible-- to the picture, cheered slightly for the first time since he'd woken up, at least, for the first time since he'd been led from the infirmary by his Head of House.

----

Five minutes later found Harry waiting in front of the doors to the Great Hall, five minutes early for the meal, just in case, because he really didn't want to become acquainted with Daawk's bad side, especially when his good side had such a terrible bedside manner.

He twirled his wand out of boredom while waiting, mildly glad that it had been in the pocket of his robes when he'd been transported here. He supposed it was really some amazing luck that it had turned out that way, but Harry'd never really been short on luck so he took it somewhat for granted.

With a soft sigh, he leaned against the wall, knowing that he'd only been standing at the doors for a very short time, but also feeling very impatient with the slow pace everything was moving at, he wanted this meal to be over, this day and the next to be over, so that he could finally meet his parents. A sudden thought struck him, and his mouth went dry. What if he was gone before his parents got back? He'd never be able to meet them...

His wand spun faster over his fingers, green and red sparks --appropriate, really-- fizzing half-heartedly from the end.

"That's dangerous, you know."

Harry's wand, with a final arc, spun perfectly into his palm, and his fingers clenched around the wood his teeth simultaneously grinding together. He would know that voice anywhere. Whether it were seventeen or thirty-some, it would always be the same irritating, smoothly flowing like brandy and then having the same after affect of the alcoholic beverage and burning in your stomach. Snape.

Harry forced his teeth to loosen. Snape wasn't a professor here; he couldn't harm Harry in anyway. None, at all.

"What does it matter to you?" He forced himself to say coolly; betraying emotion near Snape was leaving yourself open for a lethal wound. He'd learned that the hard way, more than once.

The honey and vinegar voice soured a notch with its response. "I'd watch your tone, talking to a prefect. I can take house points, you know, Potter. I don't care if you're Head Boy or not. I thought you'd left for the hols. Or did your precious Mummy and Daddy decide that they couldn't deal with your obnoxiousness anymore?"

Harry smirked coldly and turned to face Snape, whom he'd previously had his back towards.

"Firstly, I'm not Potter, and secondly," he made a swift gesture to his robes, "would you really take points from your own house?"

He arched an eyebrow innocently, amused at the expressions which were rapidly flickering over Snape's face. Enjoying the expressions for a few seconds longer, he again turned his back to his most hated future professor and stepped forward as the doors to the Great Hall swung inward.

Leaving his sputtering 'house-mate' behind him, Harry stepped into the room and had to suppress a smile that, there were at least a few things that did not change. The Great Hall was one of them, it seemed. Briefly surveying the room, he frowned to see that Pro-- er, Lupin was not at the Gryffindor table. He almost took a step towards that same table, but then realized that he no longer sat there any more.

With a faint blush, he moved as confidently as possible towards the Slytherin table, sitting with a few students that looked to be first years, not wanting to be anywhere near Snape and his crowd. Besides, there were fewer of the younger students staying than there were of the older years, and he really wanted nothing to do with an of the Slytherin house. So, the fewer, the better.

After he had settled himself in, he saw Dumbledore rise at the Head table, and turned his attention towards the older wizard, ignoring the somewhat fearful, nervous looks he was getting from those sitting around him. The Headmaster looked over the students and nodded when he saw that he had their attention for the most part.

"Alright, you know I don't like to interrupt meal-times anymore than I have to, so I'll make this as short as possible, although you'll probably be hearing it again when the rest of the students return. We have a new student at Hogwarts, who has been sorted into Slytherin. I hope you'll welcome him properly, as he's a seventh year and wouldn't have any trouble retaliating if you did not. Welcome to our school, Harry Paul Granger." Dumbledore's eye's twinkled slightly as he mentioned Harry's new middle name and he clapped softly, his example followed by the other students, in welcome.

For the second time it seemed in as many minutes, Harry flushed, but nodded towards Dumbledore in thanks of the welcome, and much more as he was sure the Headmaster knew.

"Alright, now that everything's taken care of on that front, tuck in!"

The old man clapped his hands together one last time, and the meal finally appeared on the table. Harry put some on his plate, but barely ate a thing. His eyes were on the Gryffindor table for throughout nearly the entire meal, and Harry briefly wondered whether his absence of appetite was because of some potion he'd been given by Medi-witch in training, Madame Pomfrey, or if Remus had taken it with him along with his captured thoughts, where ever the werewolf had decided to venture off to.

Probably the latter, although, it really didn't make much sense to him why he would be so put off by not knowing where Remus was and preoccupied with the other boy as well; he was his professor, after all. Still, he didn't remember the taste of dying things being in his mouth when he'd awoken in the infirmary, so he didn't really think that anyone had administered any type of potion to him while he'd been unconscious.

----

After the meal, Harry trudged towards the library, having been told by Dumbledore that he should be looking for a solution to his problem during his free time. He didn't particularly watch where he was going because he was also absorbed in another issue Dumbledore had informed him about. Classes. He had to re-choose his classes. Having to pick the first time around had been horrible for Harry, and now he had to do it again? The universe was completely unjust.

Finally, after about twenty minutes of mindless wandering, the Boy-Who-Lived made it to the Library and walked in, absentmindedly wondering which section of the dusty tomes he should check first, and not coming up with anything particularly helpful, as he only just knew which section held the Quidditch books in the library and he knew where to find the Restricted Section, but as he was without a pass and without his invisibility cloak, the two places that he kept himself informed about in the library were completely useless to him.

Mistily he puzzled over whether or not he should bother the librarian, and whether or not the librarian was still Madame Pince, but thought better of it when he saw a familiar and unfamiliar at the same time because it wasn't peppered with the grey he was accustomed to, ash brown, near tawny, head full of hair.

Remus. It was amazing how quickly a title of respect evolved into a first name basis over a meal filled with thoughts about a person. With a grin, he strolled over to the study table and plopped himself across from his werewolf mentor- teacher turned fellow student.

"Hey."

Golden eyes snapped up from the book they'd previously been focusing on and widened when they got a good look at Harry. He snapped the book shut, a flush rising into his cheeks, and turned it cover side down quickly. However, it wasn't quickly enough, and Harry caught a quick glance of its familiar cover. The Boy-Who-Lived couldn't resist a slight amused smile.

Doppelgangers. Did he really look that much like his father? He didn't think so...

"Um...hi..." Remus finally spoke up, reciprocating his greeting.

Harry's smile got a bit wider; whether from being pleased at the possibility of a new friend, or just very pleased with himself, the Boy-Who-Lived was feeling decidedly smug.

"So, I never got your name in the infirmary this afternoon, and I can't really thank you properly for saving me if I don't know your full name..." Harry trailed off pretending to look around with interest at the filled bookshelves surrounding them.

"I'm Remus. Remus Lupin."

Harry refocused his gaze on the werewolf and smiled wider still, holding out a hand for Remus to shake.

"Nice to meet you, Remus."

Remus leaned forward and grasped his hand for as long as necessary, but not a second longer.

"Very nice to meet you too," he murmured without much feeling, the fact that this boy was most definitely a Slytherin ran through Remus' mind. Even without his uncanny resemblance to James, Harry would have unnerved him; it was those eyes, the werewolf decided. They were bloody damned near inhuman. Very much like his own but so very different at the same time.

And that smile unnerved him too. It didn't seem to diminish at all, only to expand, as if the world and everyone in it were something to be enjoyed, or worse yet, laughed at. Remus looked at his fingers a few moments before finally gathering the nerve to look up again, and was surprised to find that the smile was gone, and an equally unnerving expression of solemnity in it's place.

"So, look, so far you're really the only person I've met, other than that greasy git that tried to take house points from me because he thought I was some bloke called Potter," Harry shook his head in a seemingly disgusted way, delighted that he had thought of adding that to his into his little speech --it was so Slytherin-- and then continued, "Anyway, I was wondering if perhaps you could help me choose some of my classes? I don't particularly like having to make educational choices," he flashed a grin at the boy across from him, "and I figured since you know the school, you probably know the classes and teachers too, and that you could maybe help me pick out a few good classes? If not I'll let you get back to your, very interesting I'm sure, research on doppelgangers."

Remus blanched at the last sentence and looked at the boy sitting across from him. He'd hoped that he'd closed the book quickly enough, but it seemed he hadn’t. Still, Harry didn't appear too concerned, so that ruled out the doppelganger theory, which had really been the best he'd had. Bloody hell.

Having been caught, and pretty much proved incorrect by Harry's nonchalance, Remus went over the Slytherin's request in his mind, nodding slowly. There wasn't anything particularly threatening about his request, and, besides, not all Slytherins were completely rotten to the core. Just most of them.

"Alright, I'll help."

"Brilliant, mate! Thanks!"

For the next half hour Remus and Harry went over the new Slytherin's interests and plans for the future, not that Harry had many he could tell Remus about. The fact that he wanted to outlive Voldemort wasn't something he could just blab out. However, there were other things that he looked forward to, and that he was interested in as well, so he and Remus discussed them.

It wasn't until they were completely finished, and Remus was looking over the list he had scratched out on a spare piece of parchment for Harry that he realized that he'd advised the other boy to take every class that he attended with the Slytherins. Which was over a good half of them considering he was interested in Defense Against the Dark Arts and all it's techniques. Something that, apparently, also interested Harry.

Still, there wasn't much he could do about it now, it would seem very odd to the Slytherin if he just started to change Harry's classes without being able to give a reason. So, what was done was done, and that was all that could be said about it.

With a quick glance at the library clock, Remus blanched for the second time in one night and quickly began gathering his books. Curfew was in ten minutes, and it being the holidays Daawk was sure to be patrolling the hallways. He would get points docked if he wasn't in Gryffindor Tower soon. Even more than anyone else, simply because he was a prefect.

"You'd better get to your dorm, curfew is in ten minutes and Professor Daawk is a stickler for it, especially over the hols."

With that, Remus practically ran out of the library, with Harry quickly following at the mention of his Head of House's name.