The Proud Man's Contumely

Chapter Nine: T'have Seen What I've Seen; See What I See

It was late when Harry finally pulled himself from Remus' lap, limbs stiff and heavy, feeling as though he were a marble statue suddenly gifted with the power of movement. He was sad to have to do so. Remus' embrace was warm and comforting, like a breeze on the face of a weary traveler that carries on it the scent of home...and there in Remus' arms the concept of home didn't seem any more imaginary or impossible than it had in Sirius' wardrobe. For a while, Harry had forgotten where he ended and Remus began, he was so completely at ease. But as soon as he began to draw away, Harry felt the cool air rush in between them like a cruel knife cutting them again into two separate beings. Remus looked as exhausted as Harry felt, but Harry could see in his eyes he would have willingly sit there until morning with Harry if he though t that was what he needed. And though that thought had tempted Harry, he decided it wouldn't have been fair to Remus. They'd sat there for far too long already, ever since Harry's tears had been spent and he was so weak because of it he could not even will himself to hold his uncomfortable weight off of his guardian, (though the consideration had occurred to him) and they would both pay for the embrace come morning. Harry was already feeling the promise of it. His afterglow of catharsis, that weightless indifference to the sensory that comes from such intense purgation, was fading and he was finally becoming aware of the bruises on his knees and shins screaming for relief from the hardness of the floor and his awkward position. He could only imagine what Remus must be feeling.

Slowly, the two unwound themselves from each other but, before they rose, Remus took Harry's face in his hands and searched his eyes as though asking him if he was certain he was ready to part. Harry lay his hand lightly over Remus' and gave him a small, consenting smile, and Remus nodded. In that way, without necessity of words, they bid each other goodnight. Harry shuffled from the kitchen, glancing back at Remus as he passed through the door. And that image Harry hoped to carry with him always, to ever after be the one his memory offered up when he thought of the man. Remus stood like a sentinel, as venerable and weathered and patient and indestructible as the walls of Hogwarts itself, and now was every bit the symbol of sanctuary that old castle had always represented for Harry. With a last, grateful smile, Harry turned from him and slipped into the hallway.

The hall had been long deserted, though Harry could hear stirring in many other parts of the house near at hand, and by the time he had reached the stair, a few wizards Harry did not know appeared a ways from him, emerging out of one darkened doorway to cross the hall into another. When they caught sight of Harry they froze, whispered conversation dying on their lips, and they smiled at him in that inane, almost unconscious way people do when looking on something they revere, as though the thing is somehow endeared to them through their own respect for it. Harry sighed and shook his head, turning to ignore them and continue up the stairs...but something made him pause. When he glanced back down the hall he noticed the gathering had all scurried on, save one. A stringy witch with pale hair and eyes was still staring at him, the same one who had whispered to Snape. The one with the look that tickled. Harry noticed she had not smiled with the others. Although he sensed no animosity in her, her blatant attention still unnerved him. Harry gave her a crooked smile and continued up the stairs, not waiting for her response.

When he reached his room, Harry eased the door open and found Hermione asleep in Ron's bed, fully clothed and loosely covered with a blanket. Ron himself was slouched in the chair by the bureau, curled in a sheet. Harry wondered how long they had waited for him before finally succumbing to exhaustion. It was touching to have friends so devoted. But at the same time, their loyalty unsettled Harry. He knew that, because of it, he was indeed a danger to them, despite what Remus had insisted. Either of them would throw themselves in harm's way at a moment's notice for his sake...just as Sirius had.

Harry shook his head and pushed the thought aside. It was too late and he was too tired for anymore of its kind this night. He'd worry on it tomorrow. Right now, all he wanted was to undress and slip beneath his own sheets, which he did. But sleep did not come easily, even now. Or rather, Harry still fought it, wondering what might happen if he dared. He tossed and turned for several minutes. Despite his cleansing moment with Remus, Harry could not shake his sense of foreboding. He still felt...watched. Harry opened his eyes with a snap.

Ron was awake and staring at him. Harry sighed his relief.

"All right there, Harry?" Ron whispered, casting a quick glance at Hermione to be sure he hadn't disturbed her. Harry gave him a weak smile and only nodded. Ron nodded as well. "Dumbledore came up and told us you were okay."

"Then why'd you ask?" Harry whispered back, but playfully, in no way biting. Ron shrugged.

"S'pose I just wanted to hear it from you. You don't always tell them everything, y'know...So you are really all right aren't you?," he asked again with a note of worry.

"Ron. I'm fine," Harry assured him. There was a long silence, and Harry just almost nodded off.

"I heard about Hedwig. And your cousin," Ron said suddenly, jolting Harry from his doze. But Harry didn't know how to respond to that...so he just didn't. "I thought that was why you'd disappeared," Ron went on, but he was no longer looking at Harry. "I thought you went to find the ones who'd done it. I thought you went off and left me behind." He paused, then added, "You can't do that you know. Promise you won't go after them without me." Harry knew he could never, would never, promise anything like that. He pretended to be asleep, keeping his eyes open only enough to see Ron's blurry form through his lashes. When he wasn't answered Ron looked over and sighed, and Harry thanked his lucky stars his friend was so gullible.

"You can't let them get you, Harry," Ron said now as though he knew Harry couldn't hear him or else wouldn't have spoken. "You're my Best Mate. Don't know what I'd do without you."

You'd do just fine, Harry thought. Probably be better off.

"If they ever hurt you. If they ever...." Ron hissed softly. "I'd kill them. I just would," he finished plainly and resolutely. Harry really did close his eyes at that, and swallowed a worried sigh. Ron watched Harry 'sleep' for a while longer, then adjusted himself in his chair and went to sleep himself.

Unfortunately, Harry would not be able to do the same for some time. As much as he hated to admit it, Snape had been right. And Harry resolved never again to share with his friends all that happened to him or that he discovered...because no matter what he tried to say or do to dissuade them, should they know of Harry's danger, nothing would stop them from involving themselves in it. Harry didn't have a choice, he had to face these perils. But he'd be damned if he'd drag his best friends into them with him.

Let them keep their lives, he reasoned, their homes and families...their innocence. At last, Harry felt he was indeed the best suited for his destined role, but not because of some prophecy or latent power. Unlike his friends, Harry had nothing to lose.