Survivor's Guilt: Moony's Tale

It was several weeks before Remus found an excuse to talk with Harry privately. He had not wanted to take the boy aside in front of his friends, nor send for him to visit his office. Dumbledore may have asked him to Hogwarts to keep an eye on Harry, but there were others who remembered the close association between the names Remus Lupin and Sirius Black and sometimes they conveniently forgot that the Potters had been friends of both. He did not want to draw attention to the fact of his particular interest in their son.

The other professors were either very polite to Remus or ignored him altogether. Only Dumbledore was openly friendly but he was a very busy man. The upshot of all this was that Remus was very rarely privy to the discussions the other professors shared, even in the staff room. He knew, of course, that much of the talk these days was about the search for Sirius and whether or not he was, in fact, after Harry, which seemed likely following a sighting near the school. He gleaned this much from the snippets of conversation he heard before entering rooms or rounding corners. All talk of the escaped prisoner stopped dead the second his own presence was noticed.

But one bit of conversation he had managed to catch told him something very important: Harry, for whatever reason, had been unable to obtain his aunt and uncle's permission to go on the regular Hogsmeade outings the older children were occasionally allowed. He overheard Professor McGonagall saying so one day in the staff room with great relief in her voice; it was one less thing to worry about, she had said. Much better that Harry should be safe in the castle instead of wandering out in the open where anything might happen.

So it was that on Halloween Remus finally got his chance to speak to Harry away from prying eyes and ears. It took him some time to locate the boy. Hogwarts was a large castle, and there were many places where a thirteen year old boy might go to be sulky and dejected about not being allowed out on an adventure, however small, with his friends.

Remus felt sorry for the boy. He remembered all those times in his first few years at the school when he had been forced apart from his own friends by the necessity of the full moon, back before they had learnt to change and join him -- before they had even learnt his fearful secret. He had always felt, on those nights, that he was missing out on something wonderful. And sometimes he had missed some merry caper or adventure or particularly delicious prank. Most times, however, he had only missed a night spent talking or studying or playing cards or games. Yes, he knew just exactly how Harry felt.

But try as he might, he could not find the boy. Eventually, he found himself back in the corridor which contained his own office. Perhaps Harry was not sulking around the castle after all. Remus had heard stories of the boy's resourcefulness, and that he had a remarkable ability to turn up in unexpected places without being seen, and to get hold of information which had been intentionally withheld from him.

James had had that uncanny ability as well, but Remus was one of the few who had known his secret: an invisibility cloak. I wonder what became of that thing after James and Lily -- he shook his head. He would not be surprised to discover it had found its way to their son, in much the same way James's nose for mischief had. If Harry had the cloak, and if he knew half of what the Marauders had known about the secret passages of Hogwarts, there was every chance the boy was in Hogsmeade even now, despite all the precautions of his elders.

Remus sighed and turned into his office. He had sincerely hoped he would be able to find Harry. Talking to the boy would have helped take his mind off some of the dark thoughts that plagued him today.

This Halloween was the twelfth anniversary of the night his life had ended. It was one of our favourite holidays, he remembered with a sad smile. There had been the Hogsmeade trip, of course, and the Halloween feast, but their little circle had always managed to arrange an unsanctioned adventure or prank on that night.

Some of their adventures had been silly things, like dressing up and riding their brooms past the first years' windows at midnight, shrieking their heads off. Others, he reflected, had been truly stupid. Like the one with Severus and the Whomping Willow that could have ended so badly. He had forgiven Sirius for that, but he was very glad James had been there to save the day.

But there had been no Halloween pranks or even company for twelve long years and this year would be worse than most. Or better. He could not decide. Tonight, after the feast, the full moon would rise. He sighed. At least there were no pranks to be missed because of his unwilling transformation. He was even beginning to think the full moon would be a blessing this time. Most Halloween nights of recent years had been spent awake and alone with memories, some sweet and some deeply bitter. At least this way he would sleep and would not remember anything when he woke.

But that blessed oblivion was hours away yet and he had nothing to do until then but remember. Remus sighed again. Then he heard slow footsteps in the corridor. Well, any distraction will do, he thought as he put his head out of the office and blinked in surprise to see Harry walking past.

"Harry?" he said incredulously. He had half convinced himself that the boy really had done as James would have, and gone to Hogsmeade regardless of rules and warnings. This is not James, he reminded himself sternly. He looked around just to be sure they were alone, inquiring after the whereabouts of Harry's little friends, Ron and Hermione. When Harry confirmed in a dejected tone that they were, in fact, not in the castle, Remus invited him in with the excuse of showing him a newly-arrived Grindylow.

He offered Harry a cup of tea as the boy examined the ugly little water demon and invited him to take a seat across his desk. "I've only got tea bags, I'm afraid," he said, rummaging through his desk for his supply of Constant Comment, "but I daresay you've had enough of tea leaves?" Remus allowed himself a tiny smile. He had heard from Professor McGonagall about Sybil Trelawney's dire predictions regarding Harry. He gathered she was rather a joke in the staff room, since she never went there. Still, it was understandable that Harry would feel a little uncomfortable. Death omens, however dubious the source, had a way of unsettling people.

Harry stared moodily into the cup of spicy, steaming liquid. Remus could see that the boy had much on his mind but was at a loss as to what to tell him, or how to begin. "Anything worrying you, Harry?"

"No," said Harry, then after a moment, "yes." As Remus had known he would eventually, Harry asked him again about the Boggart and why he had not been allowed to face it. He explained to Harry his concerns about what a bad idea it would have been for Voldemort to suddenly materialise in the midst of a group of students. But it seemed he had misjudged the boy.

"I did think of Voldemort first," he admitted, "but then I -- I remembered those Dementors."

That was interesting. While nearly everyone in the wizarding world feared Voldemort, and most who had met him face to face feared him more than anything, this boy did not. He even spoke the dark wizard's name without flinching. His fear was much more abstract: he feared fear itself. The more Remus learned about Harry, the more he felt sympathy for the boy. His own fears were just as abstract, though in his case it was love and not fear that terrified him.

Harry seemed to cheer up as he realised that his teacher had not actually thought him incapable of successfully performing the lesson.

Their conversation was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Severus Snape carrying a steaming goblet. Remus groaned inwardly. It was bad enough depending on Severus for his monthly potion, but he had not wanted Harry to see this. Also, he had seen over the past weeks how Severus regarded the boy -- another thing he and Harry had in common -- and he felt badly for drawing any further attention to him. He knew the Potions master would watch the boy more with more suspicion than ever if he started to suspect a friendly association between Harry and his erstwhile classmate.

He decided to treat the situation as casually as possible, smiling and thanking Severus for his potion and telling the man that Harry was just visiting to see the new Grindylow. Severus was not to be deflected by pleasantries. His eyes flicked back and forth suspiciously. He scowled and reminded Remus that the potion was better drunk sooner than later and while it was hot, and departed quickly and without any valediction.

Harry looked after him curiously, then at the steaming goblet on his teacher's desk, clearly drawing his own conclusions. Remus could tell from the boy's expression that he did not trust the Potions master any more than Remus himself did. But at least Remus knew, as the boy did not, that Severus did what he must for his great debt to Dumbledore and that included keeping the school safe from the likes of him.

He explained the potion away to Harry in the vaguest possibly terms, hoping the boy would lose interest and maybe even forget about it. "I've been feeling a bit off-colour," he told Harry as he took a sip. He shuddered. It was nasty, bitter stuff. Harry was still eyeing the goblet mistrustfully.

"Professor Snape is very interested in the Dark Arts," he said at last, giving Remus a significant look, as if hoping that the teacher would catch his meaning.

So that was it. Harry thought Severus might try to poison him to get his job. Remus had to admit that he had forgotten what a talent the other man had had, even as a boy, in Defence Against the Dark Arts. And that would certainly explain the extra dose of loathing and disdain with which the Potions master regarded him. It was not just a festering schoolboy grudge, but also the disappointment of a man who had yet again failed to get the position he wanted -- not only that, but had lost it to someone he already disliked. Remus actually felt a small amount of pity for the man.

He also felt the back of his neck beginning to tingle a little. Outside the window the autumn sun was just touching the horizon. He had better hurry up and finish his potion; it would stall the onset of the change for a time, among its other benefits. But in the meantime, the tingling was very distracting and made him very poor company; he had a difficult time focussing on anything Harry was saying.

He drained the goblet and quickly dismissed the still puzzled-looking boy from his office. The timing was a shame, really. He would have liked to talk to the boy a little longer. Talking with Harry had at least kept him distracted from the usual run of dark thoughts about the significance Halloween held in his mind. He looked across the smoking, empty goblet and watched Harry hurrying away down the corridor, looking thoughtful.

As soon as the boy was out of sight, Remus headed down the corridor in the opposite direction toward his rooms. He would have just enough time to get changed before the feast, and he needed something to get the taste of the potion out of his mouth. I should be fine, he thought. Until the end of the feast, anyway.