Who to trust

"Remus?"

Remus, who was staring at his teacup and considering the merits of drowning himself in it, looked up. Sirius was leaning against the doorframe, an unreadable expression on his pallid visage. "Oh...hi, Siri, come on in. Tea?"

"Yeah, tea's great." Sirius came in and sat on a desk opposite Remus, then took the cup offered to him. "Thanks."

Remus sat down, cupping his own mug of tea in his careworn hands. "Something on your mind?"

"It's--" Sirius hesitated, then plunged ahead. "It's James. I'm just...I'm worried about this whole thing. There's something seriously not right about all of this. Rem, James and Lily are dead. I saw their bodies, I felt for their pulses...there was absolutely no life in them. And you know as well as I do that no spell can reawaken the dead. Dumbledore himself told me that." Sirius sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Something's wrong with me, isn't there?"

"Sirius, no. What makes you say that?"

"It's just...well, ten years ago or even two years ago I would've been thrilled to find out that James and Lily were alive. Now...I don't know. I'm not even sure I believe it's really them. I mean, sure, James can do the stag thing--there are the distinctive markings and everything--but is it really him, deep down inside? Is he still the James Potter we knew?"

Remus shook his head. "We aren't the same two people he knew either. We've changed."

"But we haven't been dead for fourteen years," Sirius reminded his friend.

"You might as well have been," Remus said quietly.

Sirius sighed and stared into his cup. "Getting back to the point...I don't trust him anymore. I don't understand. He was my best friend, my brother...what the hell happened to me?"

"Harry."

Sirius looked up at Remus sharply. "Huh?"

"Harry," Remus repeated. "Harry is what happened to you--for that matter, he's what happened to me. You and I both have come to care about that boy in the past two years, care for him very deeply, and we've sort of taken on the role of father in his life. With Voldemort back, we worry about Harry a lot, you and I--we don't want him to get hurt. His parents could very well be here to hurt him, to kill him...and I for one can't let that happen. If he got hurt or killed, we'd lose more than just the saviour of the wizarding race--we'd lose a brother, a son, an irreplaceable third of the family we've forged in the past couple of years. And on another level...we'd lose a link with James, our James, the real James, the one who might or might not be sitting in that classroom down the hall. But that isn't what's most important. The most important thing for us is not that he's Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, or Harry Potter, James and Lily Potter's only son. What's most important to us is that he is Harry Potter, the fifteen-year-old boy with a heart of gold and the courage of an army twice his age, a part of our family--and in some way a part of us. If he dies...well, a part of us dies too. And we can't and won't let that happen."

Sirius swallowed. "You're right...I can't believe it, though. Us not trusting James...isn't that his job?"

Remus chuckled. "Nah. James would have trusted us with his life." He sobered quickly. "He did trust us with his life...and more importantly, he trusted us with his son. Which is why we're having this discussion in the first place."

Sirius stared pensively into his cup. His tongue seemed to have swollen to several times its normal size. With considerable difficulty, he managed, "Do you think we should talk this over with--"

"Harry?"

Sirius nodded. "If he wants to get to know his parents...can we really stop him?"

"No, we can't, as hard as we try to," Remus said quietly. "But I don't think we have any worries. He's just as bewildered and afraid by all this as we are."

Sirius blinked, shocked. "Harry? Afraid?"

Remus nodded. "Damn near frightened to death--but it isn't himself he's afraid for. He's afraid for everyone else--all the people who might get killed just because they're close to him. Hermione, I believe, in particular. He doesn't want someone he loves to get hurt or killed on his account."

Sirius sighed and put his head down on his arms. "When did loving someone get so complicated?"

Remus chuckled darkly. "When Voldemort showed up and changed the rules."

~~~

Hermione forced herself to stay awake. She had been pouring over books for hours now, and her eyes were starting to ache. It was getting late, the light in the library was fading, and the print in her books was rather small. She was about ready to collapse right there.

I can't give up, she thought desperately, rubbing the exhaustion from her eyes. Harry's counting on me to figure out why his parents are here...I can't let him down.

In the back of her mind, she knew she was being irrational. Harry wouldn't blame her if she didn't find something; he hadn't even asked her to look. She just felt obligated to help him because she loved him. She didn't want him to be hurt or afraid.

Still...maybe a brief nap wouldn't hurt...Hermione's head dropped slowly forward, and her cheek pressed onto the open pages of her book...

"Maybe you should go to bed, if you're this tired."

Hermione jumped and jerked her head up. "No, no, I'm fine...sorry...I've got to keep looking, it's got to be in here somewhere..."

"What does?" the person asked. It sounded a lot like Lupin, so Hermione didn't feel afraid.

"Oh...I've been trying all day to figure out how Harry's parents came back from the dead. The only two explanations I've found...well, one isn't really plausible and the other one I don't want to believe. One was just...I don't know, this seems kind of like what happened in the Bible. That's probably not plausible, though--I doubt they've just been resurrected for no reason but to prove a point. But I don't want to believe they've been raised to kill Harry either."

"Kill Harry?" Lupin sounded alarmed. "What makes you think that's why they've been raised?"

Hermione shrugged wearily. "It's an old bit of dark magic I came across. The person can only be raised for a very specific purpose, usually a dark one, and they only exist until that purpose has been met. They can be killed by ordinary means, too, but...well, somehow I can't see anyone around here actually killing the Potters, even if they were called back for the purpose of killing Harry. Since they retain their individual memories and personalities, I don't think they'll actually kill Harry themselves, and I'm sure V-V-Voldemort knows it." She swallowed hard; it was the first time she'd ever actually said Voldemort's name and it was a little hard on her. "Still, I guess he thinks they'll lull Harry into a false sense of security...weaken his mind or whatever so it's easier to kill him."

"Oh, God," Lupin said, his voice shaking. "Do you...do you think it'll work?"

"No," Hermione answered promptly. "Harry doesn't trust them."

"I can't understand that, I really can't."

Hermione looked up in surprise--surely Lupin knew why he didn't trust them? Her eyes widened when she saw who was sitting there. Alarmed, she backed away. "I...I..."

James Potter looked guilty. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you...who did you think I was?"

"I thought you were Professor Lupin," Hermione said almost accusingly.

James spread out his hands in a peace offering. "Remus has lesson plans. I came in here to see if maybe...maybe Harry was here. I saw you almost asleep and I got a little worried--I know he cares about you, I saw that much while I was at the Burrow. And, well, when you started talking about how we'd come back I just had to know. I don't know how we came back any more than you do...at least I actually know I'm James Potter now."

"The stag thing, right?"

"You know about that?" James was surprised.

Hermione nodded. "Sirius and Lupin told us two years ago. Mainly to convince us that it was Pettigrew, not Sirius, who had betrayed you."

James looked bewildered. "He what?"

Hermione frowned a little. "Betrayed you. Turned you over to V-Voldemort."

"Oh, that," James said, a little sadly. "Poor Peter...must've been hell on him, being tortured."

"That I doubt," Hermione said, her voice a little cold. "He wasn't tortured. What he did, he did of his own accord. He turned you over to Voldemort in cold blood--he'd been working for the Death Eaters for a year before you died."

James paled. "You're kidding."

"I never kid."

James pounded his forehead with his fists. "And we trusted him! I trusted him with my son's life..." He looked up at Hermione again. "But you only found out two years ago?"

Hermione nodded. "Nobody knew you'd changed the plan. Everyone thought it was Sirius who was your Secret-Keeper and..." She stopped. "It's probably not my place to tell you."

"Just tell me. No one else is going to."

Hermione swallowed hard and took a deep breath, then caught sight of her watch and blinked. "Is that the time? Crumbs, I have to get back to the common room." Distracted, she began gathering her books together. At first James thought she was just avoiding answering him, but then he, too, noticed the time. She had, in fact, five minutes to get back to Gryffindor tower before risking punishment.

"I'll walk back up with you," James offered. "Here, let me help you with those..."

"No, I've got them," Hermione said hastily, clutching the books tightly in her arms. "Thanks anyway..."

James matched her stride as she left the library. "So? Okay, so everyone thought Sirius was our Secret-Keeper, but why did it take so much convincing to the contrary? For that matter, why did it matter so much that everyone knew? I mean, surely it didn't matter who was protecting our secrets."

Hermione took another deep breath. "Well...Dumbledore knew someone close to you was turning information over to Voldemort, but he didn't know who. Since no one knew you'd changed the plan, when you were killed and everyone found out you'd been betrayed to Voldemort, they all assumed it was Sirius who'd betrayed you. He spent twelve years in Azkaban."

"For supposedly betraying us?"

"And supposedly killing thirteen people with a single curse. Pettigrew included."

"He what? Did he?"

Hermione actually stopped and looked at James incredulously. "Of course not. Sirius would never have done anything like that. I'd trust him with anything. Yes, he tried to kill Pettigrew, but that was because of what he'd done to you, not because of anything else. And it was Pettigrew who killed the other twelve--he blew up the street, cut off his finger, turned into a rat, and sped off into the sewers." She shook her head and kept moving.

James caught up to her--she was moving at a rather brisk pace. "Wait. How come nobody tried to tell me any of this before? Remus, Harry, Dumbledore--why did none of them mention this?"

"I don't know." Hermione's voice was high and fast. James suddenly noticed that she was picking up speed at she went. "I really don't know why they didn't tell you...except that maybe Professor Lupin thought it hurt too much, and maybe Dumbledore thought someone else ought to tell you, and maybe--"

"Hermione?"

The books spilled out of Hermione's arms. She looked up, startled and frightened; James could practically see her heart beating in her chest. "Professor?" she gasped a little breathlessly, bending down to retrieve the texts.

"You're out rather late." Remus stepped out of the door to his classroom and helped Hermione pick up her books. "Sorry I startled you."

"It's okay," Hermione said quickly. "I was in the library and I lost track of time..."

"Big surprise," Remus said with a gentle smile. "Better get on up to Gryffindor Tower...Harry was looking for you earlier, I sent him up there to see if you were there. He sounded kind of worried. I didn't think to tell him to check the library, although I suppose that should have been obvious."

Hermione managed a grin, nodded briefly to James, and scurried off. As soon as she rounded the corner, Remus turned to James, all traces of amicability gone from his lined, careworn face.

"What did you do to her?" he asked, his quiet voice carrying a note James had never heard there before. There was a sharp edge of cold fury, of concern, and strangely enough of fear, as though Remus was afraid Hermione had been seriously hurt.

James blinked in mild surprise. "Nothing, I swear, she's just agitated." Under Remus's stern glare, he added, "I was looking for Harry and I saw her in the library, mostly asleep...I woke her up because I figured she should head up to bed if she was that tired. She thought I was you until she looked up...that's all." James hesitated, then added, "Remus, why didn't you tell me about Sirius?"

Remus looked up sharply. "Is that what you were talking to Hermione about?"

"She knew I was an Animagus. I asked her how she knew, she told me that you and Sirius had told them two years ago and accidentally mentioned something that I asked a few questions about. She told me because I kind of nagged her...I didn't mean to upset her or anything. Why didn't you tell me?"

Remus sighed and leaned against the doorframe. "I don't know. I think it's just that in the past two years I've rather got out of the habit of telling people that. Most of them don't believe me. Even though I knew you'd know the truth about Sirius, there was this little part of my mind telling me not to say anything because you wouldn't believe me...because if I told you, you might hurt Harry like the Ministry did."

"What?" James asked, startled--nor was he the only one. Another voice behind Remus had echoed his "What", sounding much more alarmed.

Remus turned, looking a little guilty. "Er...sorry, Sirius, I..."

Sirius came up to the two and held out a hand to stop Remus's stammering excuse. "No, Remus, what did you mean by that?"

Remus sighed again and beckoned his two friends into his office. James noticed two empty mugs of tea on Remus's desk, as well as a steaming teapot.

"Tea?" Remus offered to James, conjuring up another cup. James nodded, watching as his friend prepared the tea with a practised air, handed one to Sirius and one to James before taking one himself.

Sirius sat down and looked up at Remus. James perched on the nearest student desk, also studying Remus, who sighed and sat behind his own desk. "Okay...James, you know about the Triwizard Tournament, right?"

"Yes, Harry told me about it. Sort of."

"Well...Sirius, you remember what Fudge said when Harry and Dumbledore told him that Voldemort was back."

James blinked in surprise, partly at Sirius's knowing and partly at Remus's saying Voldemort's name. Sirius, however, bit his lip in thought. "He said...Voldemort couldn't be back...he wasn't going to admit to such a thing...and he accused Harry of being mentally unbalanced."

James looked from Remus to Sirius and back in alarm. "But...but he isn't."

"Of course not," Sirius answered, sounding injured. "Fudge would've taken any excuse to keep his job. He's a damned politician...he got a little taste of power and he's going to keep it, no matter how many lives he has to destroy in between."

"There's no need to get short with me, Sirius," James almost-snapped. "I was making a simple statement of fact, not questioning my son's sanity."

Remus held up a hand to stop his bickering friends. "Gentlemen...and I use that term loosely. Anyway, to answer your question...the whole denial thing has hurt Harry rather badly. He practically can't walk out in public without being ridiculed, teased, tormented...not in Gryffindor, most of them believe him, but elsewhere. He's...I don't know, he's shrinking into himself. What he--" Remus stopped abruptly and stared into his teacup.

"What?" James urged. He was a little alarmed now.

Remus bit his lip. "What Harry needs most right now," he said slowly, "is something I don't think you can give him. Not as long as we're around, at least."

"What's that?" James asked with some trepidation.

Remus looked up and met him squarely in the eye. "A father."

~~~

"Hermione!"

Hermione looked up and saw Harry coming towards her, looking a little concerned. She smiled at him and nearly fell through the portrait hole. He caught her just in time, but she dropped her books for the second time in as many minutes.

"Oh, no, not again," Hermione fretted, bending down to pick them up again.

Harry, being Harry, knelt down to help her. "I was starting to get worried about you," he told her quietly. "I thought you'd be back by now."

"Sorry," Hermione apologised, straightening. "I was in the library."

"I should have guessed," Harry said with a small smile. The smile faded a little when he saw the title of one of the books. "Revive, Revise, Revamp, Renew?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I...I was hoping it would have something useful about people coming back from the dead, but..."

"It's about repairing charms, I think." Harry handed her the book. "Hermione, don't...don't make yourself sick over this, okay? In fact, I...if you're losing sleep, just stop looking. Don't worry about it."

Hermione looked up in surprise. "Harry, I want to help you, really."

"Don't worry about it," Harry repeated. "Right now I'm more concerned with making sure you're okay than with how my parents are here. Besides..." He hesitated, then finally told her, "Hermione, you aren't going to find anything useful in any of those books. I think you've already found the answer."

"Wh-what do you mean?" Hermione stammered, not really wanting to believe what she knew he was about to say.

Harry took her gently into his arms. "I think...I think Voldemort sent them here to make sure I die."