Blood Magic

Virtues and Appearances

"Well." Lupin looked intently at Harry across a table in the Three Broomsticks. Harry wasn't sure what he was expected to say. The walk in had been awkward. The night before, Snape had retreated to his room with the letter and not re-emerged. He had been gone when Harry woke up, and returned to the room just in time to leave for Hogsmeade. His one comment on the matter, just as they were coming up the stairs, was that the history was truthful, but with interesting omissions. He also remarked that he had forgotten about the mice. Of course, once they had met up with Lupin, he had just made growling comments whenever Lupin tried to start a conversation with Harry.

Harry realized Lupin was still waiting. "Well what?" he prompted.

"Has Professor Snape persuaded you to distrust me, or are you merely humoring him? You don't smell at all frightened."

Harry twitched slightly at the comment about his scent. Lupin seemed almost to be deliberately reminding him what he was. He decided that was probably a test, and relaxed. "I'm just humoring him," he said.

"Why?"

The question was blatantly aggressive. Harry began to feel slightly annoyed.

"Because he's my host. He wanted me not to see you at all. I wanted to see you whenever I liked. We compromised."

"What do you mean, your host?"

"I'm staying in his rooms. Dumbledore wanted me with a staff member."

"Staff, fine, but Severus?!" Lupin's eyes were wide with astonishment. "I'll talk to the headmaster, Harry. I'm sure he'll let you stay with me, instead."

"No."

At Harry's quiet answer, Lupin shrank back. "Surely ...." he began. He stopped. Harry's refusal had obviously wounded him. "Harry," he tried, his voice shaky, "I ... you used to ...."

"Professor Lupin, please! I do like you better than Snape, and I trust you more, as well. I trust you about as much as I trust anybody, so please don't look at me like that. It's just ... Dumbledore has asked Professor Snape and me to learn to get along. I'm trying." Harry swallowed. "If I'd tried last year, Sirius might still be alive."

Lupin sat silently for a minute, his face a blank mask. Finally, he nodded. "I understand, Harry. I will respect that." A quick grimace crossed his features. "Nonetheless, whatever you promised, if Severus gives you any trouble, you are always welcome to come to me."

"Because I'm James's son." Harry couldn't keep the cynical response back.

Lupin looked startled. "James and Lily's child would be dear to me, in any case, Harry. But I know you, now, and you are dear to me as yourself. Don't ever think otherwise."

Harry felt a block of tension loosen in his mind. "Thank you, professor," he said quietly. "I think I needed to hear that."

Lupin reached across the table and laid his hand briefly on Harry's arm. "Too many people love you for what you are, rather than who you are. I know this. I am not one of them."

"Thanks." Harry slumped over the table. "I miss Sirius so much."

Lupin nodded. "I do too."

"If I wasn't so reckless!"

"If he wasn't as much so!" Lupin chided. "Harry, listen to me. I will not say none of it was your fault. Clearly some part was. I will say that every trait of yours that made you susceptible to such folly had been, to some extent, encouraged by him, and was present in him to at least as great a degree. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded silently, afraid of losing control if he spoke.

"I admire how you are trying to correct the situation with Severus. Certainly if any of us had paid such attention to our weaknesses when we were your age, many things might have been different."

Harry nodded again. "Thank you, professor," he managed.

"Harry..." Lupin hesitated. "At Hogwarts, during the school term," he said firmly, "I am Professor Lupin. The rest of the time ... I would be pleased to have you call me Remus."

Harry felt a broad smile growing under the tears that were still attempting, traitorously, to escape his eyes.

"Thank you ... Remus," he said. The name felt odd in his mouth. "Remus," he tried again. He looked anxiously at Lupin. "I better not mess up and call you that in class!" The image of that helped break his grief, slightly. He smiled.

"I promise I won't take too many points from Gryffindor," Lupin laughed. "I will, however, look frightfully shocked at your impertinence."

Madam Rosmerta came over to their table with two butterbeers and some bread and cheese.

"Why Remus Lupin!" she exclaimed. "Harry didn't warn me!"

"You know I like to arrive unexpected, Rosmerta," Lupin teased. "Nothing enhances your beautiful face so much as a blush of surprise."

"Which is the only kind of blush you'll bring to it," Madam Rosmerta returned tartly, but she followed the retort with a kind smile. "Are you back at the school, Remus?"

"For the year." Lupin winked at her. "So I will be able to enjoy your dazzling company whenever the mood strikes me."

"As long as it's between dinner and two AM on a day that you don't have office hours."

Lupin sighed. "Always the literalist."

Madam Rosmerta smiled as she unloaded their drinks and food. "Well, make it soon, then!" With that, she tripped off to serve someone at the bar.

Lupin turned back to Harry. "Really, it ... it was starting to bother me, last spring, that he was Sirius, and I was 'Professor Lupin'. Of course, this doesn't mean I will forget that I am the adult, as he often did. You may consider me as an uncle, not a peer."

Harry looked down. "He got angry at me for refusing to meet him in Hogsmeade, last year," he confessed.

"What?!" Lupin roared in astonishment.

"He said James would have done it."

Lupin looked indignant. "And James would have done. He was a brave, foolish child with none of your experience. He had no concept of loss or death as anything but a story in the Daily Prophet, and had everything he wanted handed to him on a silver platter. He'd go out of his way for trouble." Lupin shook his head sadly. "Dear, friendly, clever Sirius. And temperamental, foolhardy, willful..." He sighed. "Everyone has their good points and their bad. I miss him terribly."

"What are my bad points?" Harry asked outright.

Lupin sighed, but gave the matter serious thought. At last, he said:

"You are reckless and moody. You have a bad temper, though you usually control it enough to not pass from yelling to irrevocable actions. You have a unique combination of too much confidence and too little. You are secretive and distrustful. You hate, to a frightening degree, although not readily. You procrastinate." He looked inquisitively at Harry. "Did I get them all?"

Harry shrugged. "I wouldn't have thought of the 'hate' bit, though I suppose you're right. You forgot overly proud and stubborn."

Lupin shrugged. "Both of which are the negative manifestations of a strength. As is recklessness. You know the saying that a weed is a plant in the wrong place? A character flaw is a virtue in the wrong place. Bravery at the wrong time is recklessness. Independence at the wrong time is pride or arrogance or reclusiveness."

Harry nodded understanding.

"Here's an exercise," Lupin said, tearing a piece off the bread. "List all the virtues of someone you hate." He took a bite. "Draco Malfoy," he suggested.

"Well, he's... clever?"

"As his former teacher, I can confirm this. Go on."

"Er... creative."

"Yes."

"Determined?"

"Yes."

Lupin continued to look expectantly at Harry. Harry finally shrugged. "That's all I can think of."

"Hm. Well, let's look at this another way. What are young Mr. Malfoy's faults?"

"He's spoiled, and arrogant, and cruel. He's a bigot, and a sycophant --"

"Really? I'd always seen him in charge of his own little group."

"Yes, but put him with anyone more powerful and he's at their feet."

"Not anyone, clearly. He's barely respectful of Dumbledore."

"Anyone who will allot him power in return."

"Ah. So he is adaptable, resourceful, and perceptive?"

Harry grimaced. "I suppose."

"So let's go over the rest of your list. Can you find the positive components of 'spoiled' and 'arrogant?'"

Harry chewed on some bread and cheese and thought for a bit. "Confident and poised?" he said finally.

"Apt," Lupin agreed. "We'll skip 'cruel' -- even I can't get anything out of ... No, of course I can. James and Sirius were often cruel. He is focused, energetic, forceful ... all the things that kept me with James and Sirius at the worst of their other expressions of it." He hesitated. "'Bigot,' I think, is our hardest one. Don't try to think of a good side to that, by itself, just to Draco's form of it."

Harry stared at his butterbeer as if it were a crystal ball. He didn't see that there was anything good he say about Draco calling Hermione a mudblood and hoping she would be killed. The Slytherin was the crudest expression of all his father's veiled hate ... Suddenly, he had it.

"Draco is loyal to his family and to the principles he was raised to value."

"Exactly." Lupin finished his butterbeer. "Draco is amazingly principled, in his own twisted way. He has as much honor as any Gryffindor -- it has just all been directed from anything you would recognize to maintaining the importance of his family. I find him very disturbing, really. I've occasionally found myself hoping teenage rebellion would rescue him from his past. Has he improved any?"

"He was worse, last year."

"Perhaps having his father in jail will help. It is unlikely, but with Lucius gone, better influences may emerge in the family."

"Or it will just cement his hatred."

"That is more likely," Lupin conceded.

At five of one, they left for Gladrags. Snape was not yet there, so Remus picked out a few robes for Harry to try while they were waiting.

"You don't need to stay," Harry called from the changing room.

"Of course I do. You're not supposed to be left unprotected. Besides, I want to see how you look in that green and gold one."

Harry looked at himself in the mirror. He was still recognizable as Harry Potter, but he could detect slight changes in his appearance. Standing next to Remus had made it clear he had grown in the last month. Other changes confronted him from his reflection. His hair had flattened out slightly on the top, though it retained a wave further down. Bits of the fringe were in his eyes. Harry pushed them aside, and they stayed, but they also felt heavy.

"I washed it yesterday afternoon," he muttered. "Am I going to have to shower every morning?" He looked again, and decided his hair didn't look dirty. Maybe it was supposed to feel like that. A bit of fringe fell forward again. He shook it back. His face looked about the same, so far.

He pulled off his shirt, stepped back from the mirror and surveyed his body. I might look a bit different, but I can't be sure. I don't usually look at myself, like this. Is my torso longer? I look so starved, it's hard to tell.

He twisted in the jeans, trying to see himself from behind. It was the pair from Ron, despite Snape's disapproval, so it wasn't hanging grotesquely off him, but it didn't really fit, either, and was threadbare in places. Sighing, Harry slipped out of the jeans and reached for the green robe.

"Remus?" he called.

"Still here. Do you need something else?"

"I was just wondering ... Snape says Muggle clothing is obscene."

To Harry's relief, Remus laughed. Harry hadn't thought Snape's attitude could be commonplace among wizards of that age. The Weasley kids all have some Muggle clothing, and their parents are even older. And Remus wears trousers, himself. "So, you don't think I'm 'displaying myself' in jeans?" he teased.

"Dear child, you have a lovely arse and gorgeous eyes, and will no doubt be stunning in five or ten years. Now, please tell your overly domineering host that I have not been interested in boys your age since I was one, will you?"

Harry was tremendously grateful that he was in the changing room, where Remus could see neither his changing expressions, nor the hot red that was sweeping his face. When he thought he could make his voice light, he called back, "That was a 'yes.'"

"What?"

Harry arranged the robe. It did look good, but he wasn't sure he could bear anything that made his already conspicuous eyes so much more dramatic. "You do think I'm displaying myself in jeans."

"Absolutely. I'm not convinced that's a bad thing -- you should be old enough to sort through any offers you get from your peers."

Harry stepped out. Remus made him walk across the shop and back. "Sev had best give it up," he teased. "You'll have admirers no matter what you wear."

"I'm not sure...." Harry muttered.

"Harry, do you have any idea what that does to your eyes? I could pick you out as Lily's son from the length of the Quidditch pitch."

"I won't be wearing green on the Quidditch pitch," Harry said sharply.

"Ah, I see. House colors?" Remus smiled sadly. "The association does fade, in time. Still, wear some green -- it would be a waste not to." A serious look settled on his face. "Harry ..." he began hesitantly.

Both looked over at a cricket-like chirp from the creature guarding the shop door. Severus Snape was slipping through the narrow entrance. "Later," Remus muttered.

Snape saw them immediately. He walked over to Harry, as if Remus did not exist.

"That's very attractive, Harry. It goes well with your eyes."

Harry tried not to think about Snape having just commented, positively yet, on his appearance. "Yeah," he muttered. "We were just talking about that."

His father shot Remus a glare that made Harry cringe. Remus seemed immune to it.

"Look," Harry said. "If you can tell me it goes with my eyes, he can tell me it goes with my eyes, okay? It's not a problem."

"Then why are you upset?" Snape demanded, rounding on him.

"I ..." Harry gave up on inventing anything. "I don't like people noticing my eyes."

"What?" Snape was obviously astonished by this. Remus nodded thoughtfully to himself.

"I don't like people noticing my eyes, or my scar, or ... or me, really. I look weird. When people look at me, they know who I am, and then they think they know if they like me or not, and ...." Harry swallowed. "I just want to be anonymous."

The two men were silent for a minute.

"Well," said Snape finally. "Perhaps we can find you something in mouse-brown."

"Lovely idea," Remus agreed, with only a trace less sarcasm. "Wait here, Harry -- I think I saw something likely back in work robes."

For five minutes, Harry got to watch his father and Remus Lupin cooperating, united by the common goal of dressing Harry in the most hideous robes available. As he edged out in the third one -- a kind of dirty beige thing with numerous pleats that seemed designed to accommodate a wearer with the girth of Uncle Vernon, Remus sighed.

"It's no use, Harry," he said glumly.

Snape smirked. "Professor Lupin is correct. You are still recognizably Harry Potter." He lifted his eyebrows as he perused offending robes once more. "You might as well submit to decent clothing."

Harry laughed and went back to trying on his and Remus's original selections. He ended up with the green robes, and another set in a red so dark it was almost black, except for folds that the light hit directly, which shone like glowing coals. Remus found him some black trousers and grey trousers that Snape decreed to be acceptable, and white and black shirts, then waved to Harry and headed out the door. Snape added some socks and some undergarments that reminded Harry of the sort of things bicycle racers wore, except these were made of knit natural fabrics -- some cotton, some silk. After paying for it, Snape requested their purchases be sent to Hogwarts, then took Harry next door to buy boots and walking shoes.

In the apothecary, Harry bought the necessary potions components and a selection of toiletries. He expected they would head back to school afterwards, but Snape led him back down the street.

"Shouldn't we get back for dinner?" Harry asked.

"We have plenty of time for a drink," Snape replied.

"I really think --"

"Not frightened to head back in the twilight, Potter, are you?"

Harry was about to object to the "Potter" when he remembered they were in public. Snape might have some reason to take them to a spot with more witnesses.

Outside the Three Broomsticks, they met Professor McGonagall, who was looking rather irritated.

"There you are! Professor Dumbledore seemed to believe you needed an escort back to Hogwarts. Come along, now."

"I am quite competent to protect the boy without assistance, McGonagall. We will back before the start of dinner."

"Professor Snape," McGonagall said tightly, "The headmaster has given me an order. We are returning now."

Snape harumphed, but turned down the road towards Hogwarts. Harry wondered if the entire encounter had been scripted for an unseen audience -- someone that might expect Snape to turn Harry over to them, for example. McGonagall turned her attention to Harry.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter. I hear you will be staying at Hogwarts for the rest of the summer."

"Yes," Harry agreed. "I haven't seen you—"

"I'm afraid I am not at the school often, during the summer months. I will be leaving again tomorrow, and will not return until a week before the start of classes. I hope Professor Snape is treating you adequately?"

She shot a disapproving glance at Snape as she said this. Harry felt obliged to defend him.

"Oh, yes. He's been fine."

"Well, you have friends around the school, Harry, even during the summer."

"Yes, professor." Harry lowered his voice. "Professor Lupin has noted that already." He was sure the Potions master could hear, but Snape gave no indication. They walked, mostly in silence, until the reached the castle. In the Entrance Hall, Harry nodded to McGonagall.

"See you at dinner, Professor."

Snape nodded more curtly. "Minerva."

He swept down to the dungeons, with Harry following. Down a flight of stairs, Snape spoke.

"Lupin told you he would protect you, did he?"

"From you, anyway," Harry replied. "Don't tell me you're surprised."

"'Surprised' would be if he did anything."

Harry washed his hair with things he had bought at the apothecary and dressed in the green robes. He emerged to find Snape waiting for him. Snape stood up. He walked once around Harry and nodded.

"Much better." He gestured to the door. "Now, recall that this is summer. This is a staff dinner. I would like to say that people will be on their best behavior with a student present, but I hardly think it likely. However, I do expect an acceptable standard of behavior from you. Is that clear?"

"Fine," Harry said, rolling his eyes at the back of Snape's cloak. Snape turned.

"What?"

"Yes, that's clear, sir," Harry said.

Snape looked him over. "Better," he said shortly. "Though I still don't like that tone."

Harry ignored him.

Harry was expecting dinner to be either a stodgy affair or a confusing muddle of adult in-jokes, but the moment he entered, a familiar figure with unnaturally scarlet hair ran over to great him.

"Harry!"

Harry found he didn't at all mind a hug from Tonks, even though she stepped on his foot.

"Sorry, Harry! How are you doing? You're pretty much set with the Ministry. I'm sorry it was all business, yesterday, but that is part of my job." She stepped back and grinned at him. "You look stunning! What're you all dressed up for?"

"Dinner," Snape interjected coldly. "Some people do that, Miss Tonks. Sit down, Mr. Potter."

Harry dared a wink at Tonks, who grinned at him reply, then sat compliantly at the single table, near the foot. Tonks sat on the other side of the table, a few chairs up, near Dumbledore. Over dinner, she assured them that the Ministry had cleared Harry as a suspect, though he might still be required to give formal testimony.

"When does Fudge plan to convey this to the Muggle minister?" Snape asked.

Tonks looked worried. "He claims that's underway ... the problem is, no one knows anyone who has it as an assignment, so it's got to still be at the negotiation level."

Chapter 14: Occupational Hazards