Our Fathers

Chapter Eight - Hurt

Harry spent most of the train ride from Hogsmeade to King's Cross in London sleeping. The potion, whatever it was, seemed to be doing the trick - while Voldemort had probably injured several people since the disastrous Divination lesson the day before, judging from the new bruises which had sprung up across Harry's arms and face, he seemed to feel no pain from them, and didn't have a single seizure. Instead, he slept quietly, finally getting some of the rest he so needed. Hermione was left to stare out the window alone as Ron, Ginny, Fred, and George quietly worried over Charlie's fate.

"It's just a dragon burn," Fred muttered. "He's been burned a dozen times. He'll pull through."

"But Professor Dumbledore looked worried," Ginny moaned. "He only does that when the circumstances are just terrible. He thinks Charlie's going to die!"

George frowned, pulling his little sister into a hug. "He'll be alright, Gin. He has to be."

"Be he doesn't have to be," Ron murmured, glancing gloomily over at Harry's dozing form. "Sometimes bad things happen to good people, and there's nothing you can do to keep from losing them."

Ginny followed Ron's gaze to Harry's sleeping form. Some sort of comprehension must have come to her, as an apprehensive look slowly crossed her features. "Ron..." she began, lowering her tone to a whisper, "What's wrong with Harry...?"

He'd asked Ron to keep quiet about it, but shouldn't family know? Harry was practically family. Ron struggled with the secret before sighing quietly. Hermione seemed to be dozing off, so she couldn't yell at him... "Listen, this isn't to go past the four of us, alright? It'll just drive Mum crazy with worry, and with Charlie... the way he is, we can't do anything to make it worse, right?"

"What's wrong with Harry, Ron?" George demanded. He'd always been the quieter of the twins (when Ron could tell which was doing the talking) and his sudden demand took Ron slightly aback. "Seamus told me what happened in your Divination class, with the Tarot reading. He said Trelawney started sobbing when she woke up - what's going on?"

"Harry's dying," Ron said quietly. His siblings gaped on cue, looking ready to jump in with demands of proof. Ron shook them off. "He asked me not to tell anybody, but how could I not? I mean, we're his family, right?"

"Right," Fred put in. "I've always thought Dumbledore was daft not to let him live with us, especially after we had to break him out of his room at the Muggles' place."

"They treat him like dirt," George continued. "They won't care when he... when he's gone, but we will." He winced, running a hand through his hair, at a loss for words.

Ginny wiped at her eyes, trying to cover up tears. "He'll have the best Christmas ever. It's all we can do for him."

"What you can do for him is stop spreading rumors like that," Hermione snapped, sending all four Weasleys looking over in surprise. "He's not dying, he's going to be fine. I'm going to find a way to cure him, even if the lot of you won't try!" She jumped to her feet, giving Ron a glare. "And you - you have to stop telling people lies!"

"That's what he told me!" Ron yelled back. Fred's hand, resting on his shoulder, was the only thing that kept Ron from rising from his seat as well. "I think he bloody well knows what's going on in his life! Madame Pomfrey said it. If she doesn't know how to fix him, who can? Bloody hell, Hermione, he's my best friend... I don't want to lose him, but what else is there to do?"

Hermione turned up her nose and snatched her bag from the rack above the seat. Flinging it over her shoulder, she marched to the door. "This can't be the only case in which a curse has had side effects of this sort. And I'm going to find it!" With that, she turned and left the compartment in a huff, slamming the door behind her.

The four Weasleys all glanced in Harry's direction with bated breath, waiting to find out if Hermione's exit had troubled his sleep. He merely shifted a bit on the seat and slept on.

Ron gave a sigh of relief. "I thought for sure he'd wake up - he hasn't slept in days..."

"Is there anything we can do?" Fred asked, steering the conversation back to the topic at hand.

"Well..." Ron thought back to Harry's request on the stairs below the Divination room. "The only reason Harry's sleeping at all is this potion. I don't know the name, but Harry has the recipe for it. I'm horrible at potions, but you're fair at it, aren't you, George?"

"Better than Fred," George responded, grinning at his twin. "He'd have failed last year if it weren't for me."

Fred pouted. "Well, at least I'm not hopeless at Charms... I've heard Neville was better at Summoning Charms than you are!"

"Will you help?" Ron cut in, trying to diffuse the fight.

"Of course." It was Ginny who replied, as she threw silencing glances, which were frighteningly reminiscent of Mrs. Weasley at her worst, at the twins.

Ron nodded, gaze flickering back to his friend. "Good. If this is the way it's going to be... then we'll be there until the very end. We're the only family he's got."

The only family Harry had, that was, barring Professor Lupin and Sirius Black. As Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were at St. Mungo's with Charlie, a somber Bill had been accompanied by Professor Lupin to collect the Weasley brood and Harry. Ron was surprised to find Bill chatting amiably with Lupin - a man with whom, for all he was aware, Bill had never been aquainted. Lupin then managed to confuse everyone else by pulling Harry into a hug and planting a kiss on his forehead, as though the Professor was Harry's long-lost uncle. Harry, rather than looking embarrassed as Ron would've, returned the hug. "Where's Snuffles?" he asked, glancing around.

"At my flat. It's absolutely impossible to get dog hair off of the apholstry in my car; especially black dog hair. Besides, it gave me the chance to catch up with Billy, without the hairy beast drooling on me to get my attention." Lupin gave a wink and Harry grinned with a true happiness that Ron hadn't seen in him since before the Triwizard Cup.

Fred and George burst into laughter. "Billy?" Fred demanded, slinging an arm over his eldest brother's shoulders. "Who calls you Billy?"

Bill scowled and tried to squirm away from Fred's grasp, but George came up on his other side and mirrored his twin's motion, effectively trapping Bill in place. "I went to school with Remus," he admitted, "but no one else is allowed to call me Billy. Got it?"

George grinned broadly and tweaked Bill's cheek. "Got it, Billy."

Ron merely gaped. "Then that means... do you have any embarrassing stories about Snape?!"

Bill and Professor Lupin burst into laughter. "Plenty!" Bill said, causing Ron to grin broadly in anticipation. "Though he left at the end of my second year, with Re. Actually, most of the stories are about Re and James and Pete and... the others." His grin faultered for only a moment before skipping Sirius Black's name. "He had red and gold striped hair the night after Slytherin won the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch game my first year. That was before I was on the team."

"One of our best pranks," Lupin recalled with a smile, winking at Bill. "Although... when snooty Narcissa Thein got bonded to her seat with simple Muggle glue in Potions class during my last year... that was a definate highlight..."

"She's dead," Harry suddenly remarked, causing the grins to slip from Bill and Professor Lupin's faces. He continued without pause. "Does that mean you knew my dad?" he asked Bill.

"Not very well," Bill admitted. He faultered a moment, seemingly searching for word - or perhaps trying to come to terms with the sudden and emotionless announcement of Narcissa Thein-Malfoy's death. "Re here tutored me in a few subjects," he finally continued. "I was terrible at Charms, at first. But James and Si- er, James was always busy with Quidditch and he started dating Lily soon after I got there. Well, by my second year, she was. Didn't you date her for a while, Re?"

Professor Lupin blushed a violent red, sending Fred and George snickering, while Harry stared at his former professor in shock. "Well, yes," he admitted bashfully, "but it wasn't for very long. It couldn't have gone anywhere, seeing as I've the whole lycanthropy problem..."

Bill nodded sagely, as if the curse really didn't bother him. "Yes, I heard about that from Percy... tough break. If you're ever out of a job, though, the goblins at the Cairo branch, and the Jerusalem branch, too, don't ask a lot of questions."

"Thanks," Professor Lupin grinned. "It really does mean a lot. I'm working in the Muggle world right now though - and they don't ask any questions. Well, c'mon," he said, reaching for Harry's luggage, "let's head out. There's no use standing around here and talking, when we'll be able to spend the night chatting away at my flat."

"Your flat?" Ron put in.

Lupin nodded. "I don't want to drive all the way to the Burrow this evening. My car is an honest-to-goodness, unaltered Muggle device. It'll take ages to get there." He slung his free arm over Harry's shoulder, leading the group away from the platform.

"Can I use the fellytone?" George shouted.

"Oooh, do you have one of the boxes with the pictures?" Fred added.

Ron held back a groan. True, he was excited to see what a real Muggle flat looked like, but with the twins? It would be an interesting night.

It was more than interesting - it was chaos. Harry had fallen asleep nearly upon arrival and Ginny immediately became entranced by the telly, watching some programme about a Muggle girl who fought vampires - though few of the facts were correct - leaving Ron to watch the twins' antics. Professor Lupin was on the fellytone, and his voice could be heard yelling over the racket Fred and George were creating while Bill had run out to get Indian take-away from down the street for dinner. Ron was surprised that Lupin's commentary hadn't yet awakened Harry.

"Yes, Marguerite, I'll be needing a substitute at work tomorrow. I'm sorry I'm so late on this, but there's an emergency... Fred, leave the dog alone! Yes, I suppose you could say I have friends over - it's part of that emergency. No, they're not the emer- Fred, damnit, leave the dog alone! They're the siblings of an old school mate of mine, I picked them up at the train station because Billy's little brother was in a severe, erm, car accident; they're staying with me tonight, but I've got to drive them nearly to Wales tomorrow. Damnit, George, he's a bloody dog, not a pillow! He's going to bite you, and you'll bloody well deserve it!" Ron spared a glance over at the twins, who had wrestled Sirius, in dog form of course, to the ground. "How old are they? Marguerite, you wouldn't believe me if I... Well, Billy's just turned thirty-one. The injured brother, Charlie, is twenty-eight. Percy's not staying with me, but he's almost twenty. Fred and George are twins - yes, the ones terrorizing my poor dog - and they're seventeen, although they're behaving more like three year olds. Oh, hold on, Margie." Lupin set the phone down and charged across the room.

Geroge was still draped across Sirius, holding him down, while Fred tied Ginny's hair ribbons around Sirius' ears. Sirius did not look amused.

"God Almighty, can't the two of you just watch the telly and act normally for a change?! He's a sodding dog - and he's not a poodle, get those ridiculous ribbons off of him and give them back to your sister before he bites you. Act your bloody age! Go ahead, Padfoot, bite them as hard as you want!" he said, addressing the dog.

George's eyes narrowed, though he didn't move from his place draped across the dog. "Padfoot? Like... the map...?"

The professor gave a snort. "Do you actually think you were the first students to have that map? Filch got it off of my friends my sixth year - it was a terrible accident. Now do you mind? I'm on the phone! And give me the ribbons!" Lupin snatched the red and gold ribbons away and stuffed them in his pockets, giving a glare worthy of Molly Weasley in the twins' direction before returning to the fellytone.

Fred pouted. "And the big mutt was actually looking festive. Ow! He bit me!" Ron broke into laughter as Fred cradled his hand, George launched himself away from the shaggy dog, and Sirius launched himself after George.

Meanwhile, Lupin's narrative had continued. "Yes, Padfoot bit him, and he bloody well deserves it... oh, right. Ron's fifteen - yes, like Harry, my... er, nephew - and Ginny's fourteen. Seven of them, right, starting in '64. Er... Irish Catholic? Well, they're not Irish. Yes, and Harry's here too. If he stays with me over the Easter hols, I'll be sure to bring him 'round to meet you... George, goddamnit, leave the toaster oven alone! Marguerite, I've got to go before they burn the bloody house down. Yes, good night."

This was better than anything the Muggles could think up for the telly. Ron grinned broadly and listend as the twins were berrated in a tirade that Molly Weasley would've been quite proud of. Harry didn't know what he was missing.

The cheerful wonders of the Muggle flat didn't last long, as a scream rent the air deep in the night. Loud enough to wake even Ron, he leapt over Fred and George to charge into Lupin's room. The professor seemed to have taken up a bed on the floor, but he was perched on the bed with Harry draped across his lap as Ron entered. Ron stopped abruptly and watched the scene, which was so reminicent of many nights at the Burrow - his dad would charge up from his parents' bedroom to comfort Ron when he dreamt of spiders or his mum would hold Ginny as she cried after dreams of Riddle and the diary. He felt as though he'd intruded upon a private moment between father and son, even though they weren't related.

"What did you See, Harry? Are you alright?" Professor Lupin rocked Harry in his arms, rubbing his back comfortingly. Only his profile was visible from the doorway, and just the top of Harry's mussy black hair.

"He led a raid on a house full of people. I knew one of them." Though Ron couldn't see his face, he could hear the thickness of his friend's voice - he was probably crying, and Ron knew that Harry would never want to be seen crying. "I should talk to Dumbledore. He should know..."

Lupin continued playing the role of father. "Not tonight. It can wait until morning. You need to rest - you're not looking well at all."

"I don't think I can sleep. I don't want the dreams to come back." It was the frightened plea of a child, despite Harry's age. Ron watched as he buried his face in Lupin's shoulder and sobbed.

"Then I'll stay here until you're ready to sleep. Shh... it'll be alright, Harry, I promise..."

Ron backed up and closed the door as silently as he was able. There were some thing he shouldn't intrude upon - and Professor Lupin would keep Harry safe until morning.