Of Hope And Love

Of Hope and Love

*

Chapter 1:

Deep in Thought

*

"Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said with a stern voice as the sixth-year Gryffindors entered the Transfiguration classroom, "Headmaster Dumbledore wants to see you after the class."

Harry nodded obediently, then exchanged curious glances with Ron and Hermione.

"Do you know what it is about?" Ron whispered to Harry as they sat down on their usual seats.

Harry shook his head. "I've not the faintest idea," he murmured back. "But regarding to her expression, it's something serious."

Ron nodded slowly. "Let's hope it's not anything bad," he said quietly, then shut up as the professor shot a sharp glance to their direction.

After the lesson, Harry slowly collected his things. His mind was going through all possibilities as of what could have happened. Each possibility was worse than the one before.

At last, Professor McGonagall practically shoved him out of the classroom. The Transfiguration teacher gave him an almost pitying glance, which of course made him even more worried.

Harry's mind whirled with thoughts as he walked slowly towards the Headmaster's office. He'd thought a lot after Sirius's death. At Dursley's he'd had a lot of time to just lie back on his bed and think about everything. School, the Ministry, the war, Voldemort...

Sirius...

Sirius. That thought still hurt. No matter how many times he'd thought through it, no matter how many nights he'd cried himself to sleep, he still couldn't think about Sirius without tears filling his eyes. Sirius hadn't been only Harry's Godfather, he'd been a parental figure, a confidant... A steady rock in the middle of his stormy life.

Now Sirius wasn't there anymore, and Harry was alone, without nothing there to lean on. Nobody to support him, not the same way as Sirius had.

As soon as he thought about that, another face floated into the surface of his mind. It was not a harsh, angled face with pale grey eyes watching him intently and long, black hair surrounding it. Instead, he saw a pale, round face, warm amber eyes and short, slightly ruffled greyish-golden hair...

Remus's face.

Remus, too, meant a lot to him, but in a wholly different way than Sirius. Over the last half of the summer, which he'd spent in the Grimmauld Place, surrounded by painful memories of Sirius, he and Remus had become very close. They'd sometimes spent hours talking about everything. After those conversations Harry always felt much less troubled. He'd also noticed that he and Remus had a lot in common: A lonely childhood, a fear of rejection, secrets they could only tell to their closest friends... And the loss of Sirius. During those long hours, they'd become friends.

One night, soon after a full moon, Remus had fallen asleep on the couch. Harry had watched him and noticed just how fragile and eerily beautiful the werewolf was. Unable to resist the urge, thinking that Remus was sound asleep, he'd leant forward and let his own mouth brush lightly against those tempting, rosy lips.

Just then, a pair of amber eyes had snapped open.

At first, Remus had just gently pushed him away, telling that it couldn't be, that it would never work. There were too many years between them, too many differences... Plus, he was a werewolf.

Harry'd of course told that it didn't matter, that he loved Remus despite the age difference and all the other troubles they were bound to have. And he had been telling the truth, for he truly loved the werewolf with all his heart and soul.

At last he'd got his former professor to admit his feelings towards Harry. That was when they had become lovers. At first, it had all been very careful and gentle -- a few stolen kisses, holding hands while talking, just sitting together in a comfortable silence.

Then, one night, as there was no one else in the house, they'd decided that they were ready for the next step in their relationship. That night, they'd made love for the first time.

Harry still got a nice, warm feeling as he thought about it, it and all those times after it. Merlin, he missed Remus -- missed him like oxygen to breathe, ground to walk on, light to see, or sun to warm him. He hoped he'd been able to see his lover, but he knew it was impossible.

He gave the password to the gargoyle -- Dumbledore nowadays made sure that he always knew the most current password -- and then walked slowly up the stairs, still deep in thought.

As he opened the door, he was greeted my Dumbledore's very serious face. "Ah, Harry," the Headmaster said with a bit sad tone. "There's somebody here you ought to meet."

Harry was honestly confused, and not a bit scared. Why were both McGonagall and Dumbledore behaving so seriously? And who was the person he ought to meet? The young wizard turned to look around the office, and gasped in surprise and shock. In a corner he couldn't see by the time he stepped in stood a man with a tidy, light brown robe and a saddened look on his face.

"Remus?"