Rating:
R
House:
Schnoogle
Characters:
Draco Malfoy Harry Potter Remus Lupin Severus Snape
Genres:
Drama Angst
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix
Stats:
Published: 09/13/2003
Updated: 09/20/2004
Words: 335,561
Chapters: 81
Hits: 1,465,159

Blood Magic

GatewayGirl

Story Summary:
Blood magic was supposed to keep Harry safe, but his relatives are expendable. Blood magic was supposed to keep Harry looking like his adoptive father, but it's wearing off. Blood is a bond, but so is the memory of hate -- or love.
Read Story On:

Chapter 18 - Mutual Distrust

Chapter Summary:
Discussions with Snape and Remus raise more questions than they answer.
Posted:
10/11/2003
Hits:
15,572



Mutual Distrust


The arrival of food was a relief to all of them, Harry thought. Snape and Lupin continued to snipe at each other, but the volleys were almost pro forma, as if both were too preoccupied to launch another dedicated attack. Dumbledore sat back and watched with less than his usual amusement.

When they got back to the dungeons, Snape gave Harry some of a muscle-relaxing potion to have before bed, and promised to make more the next day. He warned that it would be more effective as a preventative than a cure, but even so, Harry found the effects immediately helpful. He slept better than he had any night since he had returned to Hogwarts.


Harry woke late, to a dimly lit room. The sky outside his magic window was grey. He felt disoriented at being alone and indoors, and remembered that he had been dreaming. He had been lost in a strangely non-urgent nightmare in which he had stood wandless in the gardens on Magnolia Crescent and attempted to convince a werewolf that he was a half-blood, not a Muggle, and therefore unlawful prey. Emotionally, it had felt more like trying to correct a clerical error than trying to preserve his life.

After dressing absently in trousers and a shirt, Harry stared out the tower window. It was odd to look down on land he knew was a story above him, and probably in some other direction. The day was overcast, not rainy. It looked like the sort of day that might stay that way for hours. Suddenly, Harry wanted to fly.

He went out to the kitchen. Snape wasn't there, or in the living room. Harry called down to the main kitchens for eggs, bacon, toast, and marmalade. He made his own tea while he waited.

After eating, Harry collected his Firebolt, and walked down to Snape's lab. As he expected, Snape was brewing. Harry entered carefully, sat down a table away from Snape's cauldrons, and waited to be noticed.

"What is it?" Snape asked, finally.

"I wanted to go down to the pitch and get in some flying. May I? Now that I have the ring?"

Snape, frowning, considered the matter. Harry suspected that frowning was a natural part of Snape's thought process.

"Your last two Occlumency sessions have been acceptable," he admitted.

"So? Is that yes?"

"You need to pay attention to your surroundings, and you need to have someone with you."

"Okay."

"Someone other than Lupin."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You know he'd be the easiest."

"And I know he'd be useless, at best."

Harry looked down. He wanted to ask what the big deal was about Remus, but he suspected such a general question would get him an equally general answer.

"You heard him last night," Snape said, sounding suddenly angry. "He'd betray us if he dared."

"No. I heard him last night, and I think he is unhappy that no side has offered an acceptable solution to the problems of the werewolves."

"Believe what you wish. I say if you were attacked by his own kind, he would stand aside."

Harry bit his lip. He was stung by the contempt in Snape's voice. More abstractly, it bothered him that he and Snape managed to get such different meanings from Lupin's words. When Snape talked about Remus, he often seemed to be talking about someone Harry had never met. Conversations such as this made him wonder if Snape's Remus actually existed, or if he was a creation of Snape's hatred of werewolves and Marauders.

"About what you said," he forced out. "About Lupin liking dark-haired boys.... Did you mean that?"

"Yes. You're as much that as James's son." Snape smirked. "More."

"When I told him you said I was 'displaying myself' in jeans, he said to tell you he hasn't liked boys my age since he was my age."

Snape waved a hand in dismissal. "Perhaps. I don't keep track of what the werewolf plays with."

Harry blinked. "But you just said you meant it! Now it's something you made up!"

Snape looked at him curiously. "I don't know what Lupin pursues now," he elaborated. "When we were your age, you would have been very much to his taste. I consider that as likely to be relevant to his treatment of you as any residual loyalty he may feel to James. Neither bond is one I trust to keep you safe."

"That is an entirely different thing!" Harry raged. He wondered suddenly if Snape meant that Lupin and James.... He didn't want to think about it.

Snape stared at him in perplexity for a moment, then his face suddenly cleared. He laughed.

"Had I worried you? Were you frightened at the thought he might want you?" He smirked. "This is Lupin, Harry. If he did, he'd probably give you roses, not bind you to his bed."

Harry could feel that he was burning with embarrassment. Snape surveyed him with contemptuous satisfaction.

"You're a virgin, aren't you?" he asked mockingly. "A silly little Gryffindor virgin."

"I'm barely sixteen," Harry choked out. He didn't think most of his classmates had done much more than kiss, yet, but he was suddenly aware that he wasn't sure.

Snape's mocking look faded suddenly. He turned back to his cauldron and started ladling the grey solution into a funnel-topped decanter. "Don't be insulted, Harry," he said distantly. "I'm jealous, really. I haven't had a good chance to be envious of you all month."

"Would you like to be a virgin?" Harry taunted.

"I would have liked to have known what sex was before I had it."

Snape's voice was distant, and his attention fixed on the liquid in the utilitarian decanter, but Harry flinched. He wasn't sure he wanted to know any more about this, but he knew his mind would persist in trying to fill in the blanks until he at least knew who and when. Harry took a quick breath. "Anyone I know?" he asked.

"You've met." Snape turned his head to answer the question coolly, through a faint, mocking smile. "Or so I've heard."

Harry glared. He was not certain he wanted to know, but he was certain that he did not want to play a guessing game.

"Lucius," Snape whispered, his voice almost sultry. "Who else?"

"But you were friends!"

"Later, yes. By sixteen, I was too old for him. Lucius does not do men, and I was approaching that. We started over." Snape stepped over to another stretch of table and picked up a set of three vials. "Here. Enough for the next three nights, and I've customized it for growing pains."

Automatically, Harry took the potion vials Snape handed him. If Lucius had had sex with Snape when he was still at school, Snape would have been thirteen years old, at most. He was still staring, he realized, as he noticed Snape's irritated expression.

"He didn't force me, Harry," Snape said sharply. "It was a bargain, and he upheld his end of it."

"Still!" Harry choked. He was too indignant to speak properly.

"Go flying," Snape said suddenly. "Go with anyone, I don't care. But if Death Eaters come out of the Forbidden Forest, and Remus can't be bothered to help you, don't blame me." Harry started to leave. As he was in the door, Snape added:

"And be back in two hours. If I need to find you, I won't be responsible for what I do to anyone in your presence."


Remus Lupin's office door was not latched, but it was closed so that only a crack of space showed. Harry rapped sharply on it and waited for response. The door opened.

"Harry?" Remus brightened. "Would you like to come in?"

"Actually, I wanted to go flying." Harry raised his Firebolt slightly. "Snape says I need someone with me. Do you have time?"

"Professor Snape considers me suitable protection for you?" Remus said, in pleased surprise.

"Not really. But we fought about it, and he got so annoyed he said he didn't care who I went with. So I thought I'd take advantage of his temper and ask you."

Remus looked slightly less happy, but he nodded.

"I'd enjoy that. I should get out a bit, while I'm still feeling well enough. By this time next week, the moon will be too close." He yawned. "Let me get on some shoes, and we can go."


While they walked through the castle and down over the grounds, Remus asked Harry for more specifics about Harry's study group of the previous year. They discussed learning methods that worked for specific students, and Remus, to Harry's surprise, remarked that he had the makings of a good teacher.

"Individual style is an important thing to understand," he commented. "Some people never do get it."

"Like Snape?" Harry asked wryly.

Remus sighed. "Professor Snape understands it perfectly well. He willfully disregards it because he will not 'coddle' his students. There, if you like, is an example of where I do not want you to be in twenty years."

Harry's immediate thought was that Remus had somehow found out -- or guessed-- about his parentage. He tried to sound politely confused as he asked:

"What do you mean? Why would I be?"

"I know you don't like me bothering you about the Dursleys, and you don't see what use it is, now. However, I think it has affected you, and I would like you to determine how it has affected you and deal with that soon, while you are still young enough to recover."

Harry considered this. He understood what Remus meant, but he thought it was an oversimplification.

"Suppose I'd had a perfectly comfortable childhood," he said. "I could still behave badly because of it. Think of James, going after Snape because he was poorly dressed and not deferential."

Remus glared. "Is that what Professor Snape says happened?"

"No, that's what James said happened."

Remus looked at Harry as if he Harry had lost his mind. Harry realized he couldn't say he had received a letter from James, because Remus would want to read it. "I read a letter from him," he said vaguely.

"Harry!" Remus was horrified. "You can't poke about in Professor Snape's private things. He'll murder you!"

Harry ducked his head. Remus, he noted, did not disbelieve that James might have said such a thing to Snape. "Fortunately, he caught me in the books," he said. "It wasn't too bad. I just got a fascinating lecture on Dark Arts, and a new set of rules about what I could touch and when."

Remus groaned. "Oh, and do be careful with his 'fascinating' lectures on Dark Arts. He nearly had your mother into that."

"I thought they didn't get along." Harry waited. Will he tell me?

Remus considered this. "For the most part," he answered carefully, "they did not. As you have probably noticed, Professor Snape is not fond of Muggle-born witches and wizards. However, they were briefly friends -- my fault, I'm afraid. I was trying establish less hostile relations with Severus, and I took Lily along with me."

Harry thought about that as they walked. All the adults he knew seemed to edit the histories they would relate to him. Remus, obviously, was not going to volunteer that Harry's biological parents had ever been more than "friends." It made him wonder what else Remus wasn't telling him. They had reached the pitch. Harry watched without comment as Remus picked out a school broom that had probably been current in his own school days. When they emerged back into the sunlight, Harry made a decision.

"Remus?" Harry asked uncomfortably. "Can I ask you a terribly rude, personal question?"

Remus sighed and rolled his eyes. "No," he said, "I have never killed or infected another person." He looked at Harry with a mixture of amusement and irritation. "Was that it?"

"No, actually."

Remus's eyes widened briefly. He looked abashed. "Sorry -- that's the standard one. Ask, then."

"Er... did you and James ever...?"

"Ever what?"

"Er... have it off, or um...? Harry was absolutely unable to get out another word. He had the background thought that he might kill Snape for making him need to ask this.

Remus blinked. He choked out a small laugh. "If we did, would you really want to know?"

"Well, normally, no," Harry said. His face still burned with embarrassment, but Remus's reply enabled him to speak, again. "But Snape implied ... You know how I get obsessed with things. I'll just keep worrying at it until I know."

Remus shook his head. "And there, you are like Severus. Which is why he knows how to take advantage of someone who can't keep his nose out of things that shouldn't concern him."

By sheer force of will, Harry kept his head up and his eyes locked on Remus's. "Should I put all this down as a yes?"

Remus rubbed his forehead, and sighed again. "Yes," he said precisely, "all of once, and it was explicitly experimentation on your father's part. In part, because he was curious as to what I had been doing, and in part because he was angry at Sirius. Had he enjoyed it, he no doubt would have used me to give Sirius fits."

"So, he didn't?"

"No. He said it 'felt like wanking, not sex.' Not very introspective, James. Fortunately, I had a recent experience with a female friend to draw on, and I told him I had found that similarly disturbing, because she did not smell like a potential mate. He agreed that it was probably something like that, at some subconscious level, and the attempt didn't come between us." Remus looked coolly at Harry. "There. Was that sufficiently more than you wanted to know?"

"I suppose." Harry drew a deep breath. "This 'female friend....'"

"Harry -- don't ask."

"Okay!" Harry said quickly. "Shall we fly, then?"

Remus mounted the school broom, an old Shooting Star. "I should warn you, I am not in your class on a broom."

"That's okay," Harry returned. "Your broom isn't in my broom's class, either. Viktor Krum couldn't keep up with me on that broom."

Harry mounted his Firebolt. His pleasure at being about to fly again was immediately overridden by concern as he felt the vials Snape had given him clink together in his pocket.

"Everything all right?" Remus called down, concerned, as Harry dismounted without ever leaving the ground.

"Fine," Harry called back. He took the vials out of his pocket and laid them carefully on the lowest bench of the stands. "Be up in a minute."

It was only a few seconds later that was he was hovering by Remus, but Remus was still looking down at the bench, his brows furrowed in concern.

"What are those, Harry?"

"Just some potions. Snape handed --"

"Professor Snape, Harry."

"Professor Snape handed them to me when I was on my way out here. I don't want to drop them."

"This is for ... study?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Something to relax my muscles, okay? I strained some joints."

"Shouldn't you get those from Madam Pomfrey?"

Harry ignored the warning in Remus's tone. "It seems rather silly when I'm staying with the Potions Master, doesn't it?"

"Madam Pomfrey, not geographical convenience, should determine whether or not you need the potions," Remus said severely.

"You just don't like Snape."

"Ignoring the last few weeks, Snape has always hated you, and you are his only path to vengeance on the dead. Are you quite certain you should be drinking whatever he hands you?"

"I had about the same reaction when I saw you getting the wolfsbane potion, remember? I was sure he was poisoning you."

Remus smiled, but very briefly. "I remember. You were hinting broadly, and I had such trouble ignoring it with a straight face."

Harry nodded. "Well, I need this. I can't tell you specifically why, just yet, and I can't tell Madam Pomfrey, either. Professor Dumbledore knows. Trust me, okay?"

Remus looked down through the air under their feet to the distant lines of the vials.

"Harry ... I wish you had told me about the Dursleys."

"I tried to!"

"I know. And I made assumptions." Light brown eyes looked up and into Harry's own. "So if anything is wrong now, promise that you'll tell me?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"But you strained some joints, badly enough to need muscle relaxants, but not badly enough to keep from flying, and you cannot tell Madam Pomfrey what happened?"

Harry growled. "Okay, some things are a bit ... strange right now. But I can't tell you about them, either."

"Why not?"

"It would be too dangerous. Dumbledore knows. He agreed. And I didn't do anything wrong."

The name of Dumbledore failed to work its usual magic on Remus. He looked, if anything, angry.

"Dumbledore is a brilliant man, but I sometimes wonder about his priorities. Actually, no. I don't wonder. I know. He has the priorities of a leader. You have enough of that, Harry. You need someone with the priorities of a father."

Harry scowled. "Don't tell me what I need, Remus."

He shot off and up, before Remus could reply. Remus's school broom was no match for the Firebolt, and their conversation was not one that could be continued in brief shouts. Harry did his best to replace the subject with "over here!" and "beat you to the hoops" until it would sound awkward to pick up the talk where they had left it.


After an hour, Harry decided he had had enough of flying. Remus was not much of a flyer and could not handle the hands-free flying necessary to throw or catch a quaffle, so Harry couldn't start up any sort of a Quidditch drill with him. Harry, under Remus's disapproving glare, retrieved his potion vials, and Remus locked up the school broom. They headed back to the castle. The day was still overcast, with an unpleasant, heavy warmth.

"I bet you're looking forward to the start of term," Remus offered, as they walked across the lawns. "Your teammates will be much more fun than some old professor."

Harry, not wanting to criticize Remus's flying, made a non-committal noise.

"Aren't you looking forward to the start of term?" Remus pressed.

"I suppose." Harry shrugged. "It will be nice to have my friends back, and such. Even just other students who aren't friends. It's too quiet around here."

"And you'll be back in Gryffindor."

Harry thought about his room in the dungeons, then his shared room in Gryffindor tower. He decided it was about an even trade, with certain things, such as roommates, coming in equally on pros and cons.

"And Snape will be publicly torturing me again," he said irritably, "for the benefit of Crabbe and Goyle and Malfoy, and that ilk."

"Will he?"

Harry nodded. "It's politically important," he said. "We've discussed it." Harry stopped suddenly. They were still far enough from the stairs that no one could be eavesdropping on them.

"You should not have gone after him, last night," he said fiercely. "We are not maintaining a pretense of animosity for the staff, but they are not members of the Order, and you should not draw their attention to behaviors that may endanger him."

Remus looked uncertain for a moment, then shrugged.

"If questioned, I'm sure he will tell Voldemort that he is attempting to lull you into a false sense of security -- as he well may be."

Harry growled. "I feel like the two of you don't know each other at all!" he exclaimed in annoyance.

"I assure you, we know each other quite well."

"But you don't! He obviously knows some other Remus Lupin from some magically linked world -- some faithless, amoral beast who will lead me someplace dangerous and abandon me to my enemies, if he doesn't attack me himself. And you think he is so obsessed with hating James that he will kill me with art rather than expediency -- you don't have his personality as horribly wrong as he has yours -- I will admit he is vengeful -- but you have mine wrong, which is almost worse."

"How so?"

"You think I'm some gullible, delicate child who can't stand up to a willful adult for four weeks."

"I've seen no sign of you standing up to Professor Snape."

"Just because we don't air our arguments at the dinner table doesn't mean I do everything he says. I do have opinions, you know." With an aggravated sigh, Harry pushed his hair back from his face. Remus jerked backward, as suddenly as if Harry had pulled a wand on him.

"Remus?" Harry asked.

For a moment, Remus just stared at him, his mouth slightly open. Finally, he swallowed and licked his lips nervously. When he spoke, his voice was strained.

"Where did you get that ring, Harry?"

Harry looked at his hands. In just a few days, he had grown sufficiently accustomed to the little emerald ring that he often forgot he was wearing it. He expected he would be conscious of it when school started -- it was more showy than he was comfortable with.

"Snape gave it to me," Harry said nervously. "He said it was my mum's." He realized suddenly that Remus knew that -- his reaction was not to Harry having a ring, but to Harry having this ring.

"It was not," Remus said tightly. "It is Severus's ring; your mother wore it, for a time."

"Well, it is mine now!" Harry snapped. Damn it, I should have said Dumbledore gave it to me....

"Severus is not someone you want to accept presents from, Harry," Remus warned, his voice a low growl. "He does not give anything."

"Remus...." Harry began.

"Severus is a very possessive man," Remus said. "Don't cede him too much authority. He is your host and an adult, but he is not your guardian, your owner, or your lord, and he has no right to tell you what you may wear, or with whom you may speak."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Will you do anything about it?" Remus demanded.

"Professor Lupin," Harry said intently, "one of the things I've learned -- almost -- is that not everything you believe is worth fighting about. I am not you. I don't need to try to fight -- I need to try not to fight." He focused on Remus, trying to sway him with pure sincerity. "If I'm letting these things go, I have my reasons."

Remus stared at him. "Do you." The tone didn't make it a question to answer. Harry stared back. "Well, good luck, Harry. Remember that I'm here for you, always. If Severus gives you any trouble, come to me."

With that, Remus turned and strode across the lawn towards the door. When he was halfway there, he paused and looked back.

"I'm expected to see you inside, I believe."

Harry marched over, past Remus and up to the doors. In the open doorway, he turned and looked back. Remus was still standing where he had stopped, staring after him. Harry slipped inside and let the door swing shut behind him.


This time, Snape looked up immediately when Harry entered the lab.

"I see I don't need to hunt you down."

"No."

Snape smiled slightly as he turned away. "You're annoyed," he observed.

"Some, yeah."

"Why?"

"Everybody tells me these little self-serving half-truths, then expects me to tell them my innermost thoughts. I'm sick of it."

"Would this 'everybody' be Lupin, or Dumbledore?"

"Lupin, this time, though Dumbledore has done the same. Sirius did too, and Mrs. Weasley does. I suspect you and James, as well. You never have told me what you thought of his account of things."

"It had a certain number of half-truths, but they were not self-serving."

"Do you care to elaborate?" Harry asked coldly.

"No. I don't. Our personal lives of twenty years ago are none of your business."

Harry sighed and pulled himself up onto a stool. "I suppose. But when Remus says you and Lily were 'friends, briefly,' it makes me wonder what the other things he says mean. 'Friends' don't produce children."

Severus shrugged. "They can. Lily had one potentially child-producing act with Lupin, and they were certainly no more than friends."

Harry buried his face in his hands in dismay that was only half affected. "Aaargh!"

"You didn't want to hear that, did you?" Snape said slyly. "So do you want me to edit, or not? At the moment, you look like you do."

"No." Harry looked up seriously. "No, I don't. Don't dwell on it, but don't edit."

Snape frowned. "I will ... re-evaluate," he said.

"Thanks."

"I don't know that you'll say that for long." Snape hesitated. "About what I told you earlier...."

"About Lucius?"

"That ... conversation. My reaction was entirely inappropriate. Don't go running out and shag someone just to prove you can." He looked uneasily at Harry. "You have me thinking too much of that year. From time to time, when I have been alone, I find myself feeling like I did then, and I catch myself cursing or taunting you like some lawless child." He pulled his fingers absently through his hair, separating it into thin black strands, and grimaced. "It wasn't a very fatherly response."

"No, it wasn't," Harry agreed, but he found he was amused by the observation. "Would you like an assistant, this afternoon? So you don't think too much?"

"I think an Occlumency session, first."

"All right."


For the next two days, Harry stayed down in the dungeons, alternately reading and helping Snape with some antidotes the Potions master expected to need for the first week of classes. They skipped the Wednesday staff dinner by both conveniently pretending to forget it.

Thursday evening, Harry was by himself, reading Blood Magic, which focused on the theory of spells and potions using bodily components, with numerous examples for healing and battle potions and spells, including, intriguingly, both the Paternity Charm and Herem. Snape had pointed out that two-thirds of the examples were actually Dark Arts, and more than that would be illegal, due to their use of human blood, but he had approved of Harry reading the book, which he described as "sensible and unbiased."

Harry was just starting the chapter on disguise spells (including the Paternity Charm), when he heard a light thump on the door. It was followed by others, irregularly spaced. He opened the door to find Pigwidgeon bouncing around the hallway. This time, he took the little owl to the kitchen and offered it a dead mole. He then opened the letter.


Harry,

Mum's talked to Professor Dumbledore, and he reckons you can go to Diagon Alley, this year. We'll be doing our shopping this Saturday. I hope you can meet us! I've heard you're fine and that Hermione's parents saw you, but it's not the same as seeing you myself.

Did I tell you Hermione and I were seeing each other? Well, we broke up. It seemed like it would be perfect until we made it formal, and then it was just a disaster. She wanted me to be entirely different, and I guess I wanted the same from her, too. We spent a few weekends together and broke up the last one. I guess we weren't too serious, because we're already laughing about it -- it's kind of a relief to have it done. So if Fred and George start teasing me about my "summer fling," that's what they're on about.

We need to go see their shop, of course -- that's where my family will be flooing into. Mum says Professor Dumbledore might like that for you, too, as it will be a bit more private than the Leaky Cauldron.

Hope to see you!

Ron


Harry composed a reply immediately:

Ron,

After years of build-up, you went out with Hermione for a few weeks? During summer? You prat! Well, as long as you're okay with each other now, I'm okay with it.

I would love to meet you in Diagon Alley. Will Hermione be there, too? I'll ask Dumbledore, and you'll have a more definite reply from him, probably via your mum.

Living at school is pretty good, but some of the teachers fight with each other a lot. I think they need students around to make them behave!

Definitely hope to see you soon!

Harry


Harry sent Pig off with the reply, but was still cleaning owl pellets off the table when Snape arrived.

"Accident?"

"Owl."

"Ah. What about?"

"The Weasleys invited me to meet them in Diagon Alley on Saturday. Can I?

"You probably could. You are dangerously resourceful."

Harry gave an aggravated sigh. "May I?" he clarified. "Please, sir?"

"If Dumbledore approves it. I still expect you to dress properly."

Harry grinned. "You are so much better than the Dursleys."

"Should I be insulted?"




Chapter 19: Echoes of the past