Miasma

Miasma

By Dimgwrthien

Friday

Remus stared at Harry, whose green eyes were narrowed slightly. He did not look angry at all, but instead he had a defiant look on his face, mixed with a hint of curiosity. Taking in a deep breath, Remus took a seat on the couch, waiting until Harry was sitting next to him.

"It's a long story, really," Remus answered slowly, trying to think of a way to explain everything. "And I don't know the full version."

"Who does know it all?" Harry asked.

"Sirius," came the answered from a burning throat. Remus swallowed, trying to stop a lump rise to his throat, and started. "As you already know, your father, James, Sirius, Peter, and I were friends at school. Voldemort was already starting to kill, for what reasons, I'm still wondering. However, Professor Dumbledore started a group - the Order of the Phoenix - and we tried to fight Voldemort. The four of us were in it, along with plenty of others. Then - then people started dying, either at Voldemort's hands or a Death Eater's. Professor Dumbledore went to your parents, one day, and told them that he had a tip off that Voldemort was after them. They went into hiding, with you, of course, and used the Fidelius Charm to protect themselves."

He swallowed again, trying to keep his voice even. Even this long did not numb the pain of the story. "Sirius was their Secret Keeper. However, he must have been working as a spy for Voldemort, because he - he told Voldemort where to find you all. Not even a week after he was made Secret Keeper, he told Voldemort where to find you all. By the sounds of it, what I heard from Professor Dumbledore and such people, your parents put up a good fight. However, Voldemort came to you, and used the Killing Curse, but it didn't work." Remus did not feel the need to add in how he felt when he heard that news; there had been one ray of hope in that day, the fact that Harry was alive, that not everyone was gone.

"I have no clue why it did not work. You got that scar, and that's all. Nothing else. He was dead - well, I think he died. Professor Dumbledore, however, has different views on the matter. After the happening, however, Hagrid - have you met Hagrid?" Harry nodded.

"He's nice."

"Yes," Remus answered. "He is. He found you there. Supposedly Sirius was there, too, and offered Hagrid his motorbike to bring you to Professor Dumbledore. And then you were with the Dursleys. That's all I know." He broke off, his voice breaking as he stopped. He glanced at Harry and saw that his green eyes were filled with tears, though none fell onto his pale face.

"Harry?"

"I'm fine," Harry answered, his voice ragged like Remus'. He looked down at his hands. "So they died because Sirius betrayed them? That's the truth?"

"Yes," Remus answered, hating himself for burdening Harry with the story. "At some point, right after leaving your house, he found Peter. Peter mentioned that Sirius was at fault for their deaths, then Sirius killed him along with twelve Muggles." He took in a shaky breath, clasping his hands together to stop them from shaking. "He went to Azkaban shortly after, laughing."

"Why was he laughing?" Harry asked, sharply glancing up.

"I have no clue," Remus told him. In truth, he wondered whether Sirius was crazy, or happy, or maybe he could see what he had done, and felt so guilty about doing it that he had to laugh. Having known pain long enough to understand, Remus knew that laughing would always be less painful than crying.

Harry remained silent, so Remus stretched out an arm, hoping he could at least help Harry with something that was his fault for explaining. He could have refused to answer.... Harry moved into his arm and Remus wrapped a hand around his shoulder, bringing Harry into a half-hug.

After several minutes of sitting like that, Remus heard sniffing from Harry and saw that he was wiping his eyes frantically.

"It's alright," Remus said soothingly, wrapping his free arm around Harry, too. "It's alright...."

"You got to meet them," Harry said in a strangled voice. "I wish I could have."

"Anyone who ever met them was lucky, Harry," Remus answered back, running one hand through his black hair. "You're the luckiest of them all to carry their name. And James' hair," he muttered, trying to untangle his hand from the messy hair.

He had no clue how long the sat there, but Remus became aware of silence after possibly a half-hour and saw that Harry had fallen asleep in his arms. He smiled to himself and closed his own eyes.

Saturday

After having spent several more hours the previous day working on spells, Harry seemed to be catching onto them faster. Remus had worked him through the list to Protego, which Harry managed rather quickly. That was lucky, Remus had told him, or else Harry would have been unconscious from the spells Remus tried against it.

In the early morning, they had started up with the spells again.

"Next, I think I should teach you something that's not really a spell, but it's helpful. It sends sparks into the air, in case you're in danger and need to alert someone. It's one of the most simple spells. Partum Mico," Remus said, holding it wand up as red spark shot from the tip of his wand. Just aim up. Concentrate on a color to change the color."

Harry held his wand up, muttering, "Partum Mico." Green sparks shot from his wand into the air, then faded out.

"Good," Remus told him, smiling. "It's possible to do the spell without speaking, too. You can do so with any spell, but this one is the easiest. Just concentrate on the word, and it should work easily.

Harry screwed up his eyes, tongue between his teeth, and sparks shot out. "I did it!" he said happily.

Remus nodded. "Wonderful." He glanced at the paper. They had gone through Disillusionment Charms, he saw, and that meant -

"We're done," Remus said blankly, staring at the parchment in surprise. He smiled at Harry. "You got through those awfully fast. Should we practice some of them more?" At Harry's nod, he glanced through the list. "Try a binding spell." He placed himself in front of a chair again, waiting for the spell.

"Incarcerous," Harry mumbled, staring Remus down. Ropes flashed from the end of his wand and Remus found himself tied together, the ropes strong and unbreakable. He fell backwards onto the couch from the blow and nodded at Harry.

"Sorry," Harry said, going back to his usual apologies after using a spell on Remus. He untied his hands and started working through the knots with ease after so many times he had done that.

Remus felt a twinge on the back of his head when Harry cut the rope, and found that, even when it was off, his head was still throbbing.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked. Remus guessed that he must have winced at some point.

"Fine," he answered, rubbing his wrist where a deep mark appeared from the tight ropes. "Just... not feeling well."

This was perfectly true, he knew. For the several days surrounding the full moon, he knew that he would not be in too good of shape for testing spells on. He remained on the chair, shoulders hunched slightly.

"Are you tired?" Harry asked hesitantly. He was giving Remus a critical look and placing his wand into his belt. "Because we can do this another day, if you want."

Remus blew out air from his mouth and ran his fingers through his hair. He should not be feeling this bad yet; tomorrow, possibly, but not this early. "I'm fine. Let's take a short break. Would you like some lunch yet?" he asked, seeing the clock that read the time as noon.

Harry shrugged and started getting out dishes while Remus pulled out pots. "How about some -" Before he could finish speaking, there was a sound from the fireplace and he found Severus Snape there, glancing at around, then spotted Remus.

"That was sudden," Remus said to him, frowning. "Severus, why are you here?"

Severus reached into his robes and pulled out a thin vial. "I believe you ought to remember about Monday evening." He handed Remus the vial, which, he saw, was filled with a light brown potion. "This is the Wolfsbane Potion. I believe it will be stronger if you take it several days in a row. Drink it."

Remus stared at the vial and uncorked it, then sniffed. "It smells horrible," he said, making a face.

Severus stared at him. "It secures your safety, not your sense of smell." Remus drank it, feeling the thick mixture spill into his mouth, burning his tongue and sliding down his throat. He grimaced and grabbed onto the mantelpiece for support as he tried to swallow. When he managed to, he tried to regain his breath.

Taking the vial back rather roughly, Severus said, "Tomorrow will be the second dose, and Monday you shall receive it once you are at my house. I assume you collected the address," he said, glancing around once more as though bored and spotting Harry. Remus nodded.

"Yes. And once again, tha -"

Severus was gone already with a loud popping sound.

"Can't he Apparate with the potion?" Harry asked, staring at where Severus was, confused.

"That usually ruins a potion," Remus explained, staring to make a soup. They remained silent for a while as he cooked, and ate with only a few words spoken between them.

Since taking the potion, Remus felt faintly ill and once he finished eating, he remained sitting for a while, eyes shut tight, hands clenched in his lap.

"Are you sure you're fine?" Harry asked him in a worried voice filled with concern.

"I'm fine," he answered once more, not wanting to worry Harry. He opened his eyes and saw that Harry was staring him down. "Well, no. Not perfectly well, but it's to be expected."

"So it's because of being a werewolf?" Harry asked shrewdly, giving Remus a curious look. When Remus nodded, Harry asked, "I thought being a werewolf was just being able to turn into a werewolf whenever you want."

"It's a bit more complicated than that," replied Remus, standing up. "Would you like some tea?" He started filling the kettle with water and finding the tea leaves.

"Yes, please. So, what happens when you're a werewolf?"

Remus frowned with his back turned to Harry, wishing that he would stop asking questions of that nature, but replied, "Well, first off, werewolves only transform on the full moon, which is painful enough in itself without everything else." The kettle was whistling, so he poured out the water into the mugs. "And, as you know, you'll be with Professor Dumbledore for those days."

Harry nodded and took the mug from Remus. "Thanks." He took a sip. "When are the kids you're tutoring coming?"

"Starting on Wednesday," Remus told him, remembering suddenly. He would have to ask Dumbledore about what each year was learning for the two already at Hogwarts.

Harry fell silent once more, drinking his tea and keeping his eyes on the table. This silence lasted several minutes until -

"How long have you know Professor Snape?" Harry asked, glancing up.

"Since I was eleven," Remus answered, trying to keep the faintest trace of distaste from his voice. Severus had never done him any good, when he thought about it, but hovered like a sore for years. "We were the same year at Hogwarts, but he was in Slytherin. I was in Gryffindor."

"Why does he act like that? I mean, he just left without a word, and he was never too nice to me when I was at Hogwarts."

Remus put down his mug. "Severus was never too fond of your father and the rest of us."

"Why?"

Because we made his life hell. "I think he was somewhat jealous of James. Your father was talented and brilliant. Popular, too. Everyone liked James. He shone." Harry was staring him down again, whether on purpose or that was just the way he looked at Remus, he did not know. "Well, we - we were not too kind to him, I have to say. James and Sirius were trouble-makers, I've told you, and Peter and myself did not help." He smiled. "He's bitter about it."

"That explains a lot. So he hates me because he hated my dad?" Harry asked. Remus shrugged.

"To some degree, I'd say that's it."

"That's messed up," Harry said suddenly. "I'm not doing anything to him."

"I know you're not." Remus watched Harry twirl his empty mug in his hands. "Let's get back to practicing spells."

Sunday

Remus woke feeling worse than the day before. He covered his head with his arms, grumbling into the pillows and forcing himself to wake up. Footsteps were outside his door once more, and he knew that Harry would be waking up. Several minutes passed before he was out of bed, and then he dressed quickly, sifting through his shirts to find one.

As usual, he greeted Harry and made breakfast, exchanging several words with Harry. It was unusually cold outside and inside, so he lit a fire and the two spent a good part of the morning in front of it, steaming mugs in their hands.

Harry's face was brightened by the orange glow coming from the fireplace, and he glanced over to Remus, who was sitting cross-legged, staring into the fire without moving. "Doing alright?" he asked. Remus nodded, breaking his gaze away from the fire.

"I'm fine. Are you?"

"Of course," Harry answered, smiling. "This has been the best time I ever remember having." He stretched his arms out, curling his legs up under him. "You're nicer than my Aunt and Uncle," he said quietly as though ashamed to admit.

"I'm glad to hear it." Remus smiled back. "Harry, we don't have too long of a time to spend together, seeing as once they're fine, you're going back with them. So, I want you to really enjoy it." He drank of bit of his hot chocolate. "I'm still extending my offer to answer any questions about your parents while you're here."

Harry stared into the fire for a while, obviously chewing something over. Then, without turning, asked, "Did they love me?"

Remus was taken aback by the question. "Of course they loved you," he told Harry. "All of us did. Your parents, however... They were the ones who coddled over you every last minute."

Smiling, Harry leaned sideways into Remus, resting his head on Remus' arm. "Thanks," he said quietly. "I really wanted to know."

"Anything else?" Remus asked him, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"When did they meet? Were they friends for a long time?"

Remus grinned. "Well, they met at eleven, of course, in class, but they were not too fond of each other at first. They fought at times, but by the time we were out of school, they loved each other. They got married only a short while after school and then you were born."

"What about you?" Harry asked suddenly.

"What?" Remus glanced away from the fire at Harry and raised his eyebrows.

"I mean, didn't you ever get married? Or Peter? Or Sirius?"

"Only your parents did, Harry," Remus answered quietly. I think Sirius was having too much fun being single to marry, and Peter never showed much of an interest in having a wife."

"But didn't you?"

"Most people would never marry a werewolf," he answered, his voice more quiet than ever.

"But you're nice!" Harry said, moving his head to stare at him. "You're nice and you treat everyone the right way."

"That doesn't change the matter," Remus said, twisting the mug in his hands. "Let's change the subject, please."

Harry, however, did not seem interested in doing so. "I don't see why everyone hates werewolves."

"Harry, you have to understand this -" Remus turned towards him, staring at the ground rather than his face. "Werewolves are only know for being monsters that attack people."

"Why?" he asked.

Sighing, Remus explained, "Most werewolves - almost all of them - tend to be... on the wild side, you could say. They hate wizards and try to destroy all of them, biting them to turn them to their own side. Well, our own side. They don't even try to restrain themselves usually. My bite was planned."

"Really?" Harry's voice was almost quiet with astonishment.

"Yes. My own father was on bad terms with one of them. He got revenge, in the end, turning his son to something as bad as he was."

"You're not bad," Harry said in an angry voice, glaring at Remus. His voice was almost grown-up, as was the expression on his face. "You're not like that. You're - you're one in a million, then. That's something people should like. I mean, no one hates my Aunt and Uncle, but... they're dreadful," he said in a low voice as if they could hear him. "I want to stay with you forever."

"I wish," Remus replied in a surprisingly bitter voice. He wondered whether it was directed at the one in a million comment or Harry staying with him forever.