Research and Development

Research and Development Part II; Research

Harry groaned when he heard his uncle call his name the second time. He had to get up. Uncle Vernon was using his 'I'm-completely-pissed-at-you-but-we-have-company-that-can-kick-my-chubby-ass-so-I-won't-quite-show-it' voice. Harry wondered briefly who was there, before slipping his glasses on and yanking a pair of pajamas bottom up. He still had on a white T-shirt from last night, and wasn't even going to bother with his hair. He stumbled downstairs, still drowsy, his face crumpled with sleep.

He quickly became wide awake when he saw Remus standing in the front hall. Shit. Of all the people to walk in when he looked a mess, and of all the members of the Order to be sent now, of all times--after Harry'd wanked off last night but before he could grab a shower--it had to be him. After he'd wanked off fantasizing about Remus, no less. Shit.

"Er. Shit." He hadn't exactly meant to say it out loud, but really couldn't think of anything else to say.

Luckily, Remus just smiled a little. "I'm sorry to take you by surprise, Harry, but I just received an owl from Albus this morning. Evidently, he's most anxious for you to get going on those Apparating lessons, so he sent me to get started right away." The youth was beautiful, and Remus was both appalled and devoutly grateful he'd been given a glimpse of the boy outside of his robes.

"Erm. Oh." Brilliant contribution to the conversation, Potter, Harry chided himself. What are you going to do for an encore? Shuffle your feet and hope he thinks it's a tap dance? "Um. Are we training here, then?"

"No, we'll actually be heading over to Diagon Alley. Um. I can give you a few minutes to change, though."

"Ah...actually, would you mind if I took a quick shower?" Harry bit his lip; reopening a gash he'd given himself last night.

"That just fine, I think we...goodness, Harry, what did you do to your lip?" Remus came closer, and Harry started backing up the stairs.

"Oh, that. It's nothing--I--bit it. Is all." He was scrambling now, lucky not to land on his butt on the landing, but Remus followed him all the way into his bedroom.

"You bit it? That badly? Here, let me have a look." Insistently, the werewolf took the boy's face in his hands and leaned down in the dim light. Suddenly, they both froze. The smell of Harry's release was thick to Remus's sensitive nose, and he realized why the boy wanted a shower so badly. Also, though, there was the smell of blood. Which did nothing for him, but--to have bitten himself so hard?

Harry trembled under his former professor's strong hands. Lupin's lips were mere inches away, and Harry could feel his soft breath on his face. He had to fight a wild urge to say, 'Please kiss it and make it better.' His eyes fell shut when Lupin came closer.

Remus licked his lips, looking at the thin trail of blood running down Harry's chin. What--now I'm getting Vampiric urges to go along with my wonderful werewolf drives? Good God, though--why the hell does that seem so erotic? He beat down his desire to lean forward and gently capture those poor, ravaged lips with his own, instead running an unsteady thumb along the lower lip. He felt that tender flesh shiver at his touch, and Harry softly pursed his lips, turning Remus's action into a kiss pressed against the digit. Harry paused and looked up at him, with those great, sad, fearful eyes.

The boy jerked back. "Sorry," Harry whispered, shaking his head, his lips pulled in, in shame. He glanced down at the thumb, and his eyes widened. "What happened to your hand?"

Remus flinched, instinctively drawing it behind his back. He'd left it unhealed for one good reason--a reminder, for when he had to visit Harry today. This is what happens when you lose control, it read. And this could happen to HIM, if you lose control again. He let out an unsteady sigh. "Accident," he said hoarsely, and was at a loss to comprehend the way Harry's pupils expanded. He remembered that the boy must be handled delicately. It wouldn't do to alienate him by letting him think Remus was angry over the kiss--only to his thumb, at any rate. And I'll never wash it again, he joked to himself. Harry was looking at his feet now, ashamed. Remus had to reassure him. Yeah, right. Any excuse is good enough now, isn't it?

Remus cut the thought off at its knees and swiftly pulled Harry forward, kissing him lightly.

The man had put a great deal more thought than he would have cared to admit into that kiss. He could not simply ravish the boy's mouth, shouldn't even touch him there--it would be considered inappropriate--would be inappropriate. And he couldn't kiss him on the cheek or the head--Harry might consider that patronizing. Instead, he pressed his lips to the youth's temple, and then pulled Harry's hand up, and grazed the knuckles with his lips. He couldn't seem to stop. He turned Harry's hand over, and kissed the palm, trailing a finger down the boy's life line. "I'm not at all angry with you," he whispered.

Harry shuddered with pleasure. That voice, those hands--on his palm! who knew his palm was that sensitive! and those lips! Those lips had never touched him before. He felt his body react to the sensory experience, and he started to become panicky. He dimly heard Lupin say, "Go take your shower. I'll wait here," before he rushed off to get cleaned off--and jerked off, as well, Harry supposed, discomfited.

Lupin watched the boy grab some clean clothes and hasten out of the room. He's in quite the hurry to get away from me, isn't he? he thought sadly. Guess I overdid it. Well, you great lump, that'll teach you to keep your lips to yourself. He sat forlornly on the bed, tapping his fingers together and trying to pretend he didn't feel sorry for himself. Sighing, he glanced down and saw whitish streaks on the sheets. Blushing a little, he pulled the covers up over them.

Well, he mused ruefully, at least you know he wasn't doing that with someone else. He grimaced a little at the unworthy thought. After all, Harry deserved happiness as much as anyone. Certainly, he deserved it far more than Lupin did.

Remus squirmed a little, as a mental picture of Harry engaged in last night's activities popped into his head. It struck him that the boy had likely been occupied doing the same thing he himself had done, and probably around the same time. He shifted uncomfortably on the mattress again, aware that he was becoming aroused. Well, with a werewolf's heightened sense of smell, the perfume of sexual activity almost made it impossible not to be. He tried to tell himself that this, at least, was not his fault.

And since it was the smell of Harry, and Harry had done it, and this was Harry's room...could he really help imagining Harry as he was last night? Head thrown back against the mattress...eyes half-closed with lust, as he fantasized about...well; who knows what he imagined--not Remus, certainly--lips parted, breath coming fast and sharp through his mouth...sucked in past his teeth, over his tongue and down his throat, before being exhaled quickly once aga--

"Professor Lupin?" Harry was in the doorway, his lean chest bare and glistening.

Remus quickly moved his hand out of his lap and stood jerkily. "Erm. Yes? Ah--all--sh--showered, then? Ready to go?" He was rattled--God, there was no way the boy could miss that fact--and his voice was all scratchy again. He swallowed frantically a couple of times, trying to clear the coarseness away.

Harry blinked. God, that VOICE again. Why does he have to DO that to me? He fervently desired to be back in the shower, and wished he'd just said 'to hell with it' and got it off, instead of hurrying back so Remus would not get too bored. Or notice that Harry'd already got it off once recently--on the bed. "Um, yeah, sure. Just about, anyhow. I need a different shirt, though; this one's gotten too small." He held up the offending piece of clothing. Trying to ground himself in reality, Harry shook his head, and droplets of water flew, some of them spattering against Remus, who looked stunned. "Gosh, I'm sorry!"

He comes out of the bathroom, half naked and dripping wet, and thinks I could become the LEAST bit upset with him for making me a part of his male supermodel shaking-the-water-out-of-his-hair impression? "Erk. Ah. No problem, Harry. Now. If you'd like to pull out your Firebolt, I'll hit you with the Disillusionment Charm and we'll be in business!"

"You mean--we're flying to Diagon Alley?" Harry couldn't keep the hope out of his voice. Remus smiled at him--that same sweet smile that he'd given Harry the day before, and it caused the same funny flip in Harry's stomach.

"Yes, we'll be flying. I thought you might appreciate a chance to get in the air again." Remus was enormously pleased that he'd been able to arrange to give Harry this, at least. The youth was obviously thrilled at the prospect of getting off the ground again. "But," he warned seriously, "you'll have to promise to stay right by my side, Harry."

It should have made him feel resentful; the idea that he was a child that needed looking after, but Harry had a difficult time working up any real ire over it. Close to Remus. As close as he liked. He tried to look mildly defiant, but relatively indifferent as he shrugged. "Yeah, all right. Whatever."

Remus's smile faltered a little. Uh oh, he thought. Is Mister Adolescent Antagonism paying us a visit this early? He frowned concernedly at the boy, who saw his expression and immediately went pink.

"Er. Sorry. I mean; I don't mind being close to you--ah flying close to you--next to you. Erm. You know. Sorry." Harry ducked his head.

Remus had to hold back a sigh. He wished Harry wouldn't do this to himself. All this business of turning on the 'hit the ground on his knees and beg forgiveness' act when Remus got the slightest hint of being upset was going to have to go. He couldn't live like this; sure, he was more than capable of manipulating Sirius and even, at times, James with prods at their guilty consciences, but Harry was different. Harry was responsible--at least; Harry was responsible most of the time. Some of the time. Far more often than the Marauders had been, at any rate. Harry had enough guilt. What he needed was a little fun.

Remus slung an arm around the boy's shoulders, pushing him out the door. Ordinarily, as a werewolf, he had never learned to be comfortable about touching other people--or had learned, rather, that other people were uncomfortable about touching him. But Harry needed reassurance, and Remus was at a loss over how to give it any other way. "C'mon, then," he told the teen mildly. "Let's hit the skies, shall we?" He was rewarded by one of Harry's more brilliant smiles.

"Man, I can't believe I'm gonna have to be tethered to you all the way to London," Harry said with mock aggravation. "When I could fly loops around you! I could probably be there and back by the time you got off the ground," he added, with fine braggadocio. He glanced at the werewolf, giving him a shy, teasing grin.

Lupin's eyes shone with good humor as he looked at the boy. "Oh, you think you're that good, do you, little red corvette?" The reference, of course, went right over Harry's head, which was what Remus intended anyway. He was tremendously relieved that Harry felt comfortable enough to joke, and happy enough, as well. "Anyhow, I might not be a screaming eagle, but I'll bet I can go plenty fast for a lightweight like yourself."

"Oh, really?" Harry responded, green eyes gleaming. "Well, I'll just take that bet! And if you lose..." he trailed off, scrunching up his nose in thought.

"Don't bother making your pretty little head hurt," Remus told him dryly, "the question won't even arise. On the other hand, if I win, I think I'll make you do my laundry for the next few months." Dimly, he wondered what was getting into him; he was teasing, yes, that was fine--but it was precious close to flirting, now, and that wouldn't do at all.

"Well, if I win, I'm gonna make you spend every spare moment of your time away from your work," Harry said in a way that left no doubt as to what he was talking about, "here, with me, and my awful family, for the next few months. You'll see how it feels to die of boredom."

Harry's uncle glared at this, as they passed by him. He opened his mouth as if to say something--likely nasty--but Lupin spoke before he could manage to get anything out. "Oh, I don't think boredom can kill werewolves," he responded absently, causing the man to blanch and snap his mouth shut. "Silver, yes, and fire...but I'm afraid boredom just wouldn't do it; although it would be a trial, certainly," he added evenly, glancing over his shoulder at the homeowner. He rarely played the werewolf card; Harry was just about the only thing that warranted it, anymore.

As they stood in the front hallway, and Remus was getting ready to put the Disillusionment Charm on his young charge, he held his arm around Harry for just a moment longer, as he looked over the boy's head, and gave Vernon Dursley one very wickedly threatening smile.

"Ready?" Harry queried, tilting his head back to look up at him.

"Absolutely," Remus replied innocently, mild-mannered professor once more.

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Harry landed lightly in front of the Leaky Cauldron, grinning broadly. Remus touched down beside him and ushered him inside, past the patrons and into the alley, before taking off the Charm. He was still a bit out of breath, but managed to give Harry an amused, disgruntled look as he tapped the brick and made ready their entrance into the magical world.

Harry couldn't help having a little fun at Remus's expense. Especially if he really could trap the man in his bedroom for a good portion of the next few months--talk about sweetening the deal! "'Slow down!' he says. 'I'm starting to get motion-sickness, hurtling along like this,' he says!" Harry snickered a little at Remus's twisted smile.

"Stop that," the man ordered. "It's not nice to make fun of elderly werewolves just because they can't keep up with you. You'll be old too, someday."

"You're not 'elderly,'" Harry insisted, following the man down the street. "And I'm never going to get old." It sounded for a moment as though he meant it as a joke, but then Remus noticed his face stiffen, and he repeated softly, "I'm never going to get old."

"That's not true, Harry," Remus told him urgently. The boy didn't answer, and the man grabbed his shoulders and spun him round to face him. "Harry, that isn't true," he growled. He had to fight the urge to shake the other wizard, to find a way to make him see sense. "I promise, Harry. You'll make it. I'll do whatever it takes, but you'll make it."

Harry was bewildered by his own wildly vacillating emotions. To think that just a short while ago, he had been over the moon, nearly pressed against Remus's side, racing through the air with the wind on his face--and now he was almost completely depressed, or would be, if Lupin hadn't had both hands tight on his upper arms. And wasn't growling at him. Damn teenage hormones and moods and...everything! he fumed. He felt, deep down, that a werewolf's growl should not, as a general rule, give anyone an instant hard-on. There had to be something wrong with him! And he didn't want to think about Voldemort now, of all times! Thinking of Voldemort led to thinking about Sirius and...

Remus could see Harry's mood darken. It was obvious by the way his dark brows lowered, and a small, pouting frown formed on those lovely lips. The scintillating jade eyes became merely jaded, losing their sparkle and warmth, and turning hard and distant. Remus could practically see the boy's soul withdraw into itself. "Here, Harry," he muttered, desperately trying to think of a way to distract the boy. "Let's head over to the bookstore; Hermione is supposed to meet us there."

This did not have quite the effect Remus had intended. Harry's brooding merely switched topics. He wasn't particularly up to pretending to match Hermione's enthusiasm--not to mention her quick thinking. Why was she here, anyway? His face must have shown at least part of this, because Lupin answered without being asked.

"She's going to help you train to Apparate. She's fairly experienced, but still new enough at it to understand most difficulties you might encounter. After all, she very recently encountered most of them herself," Lupin informed him.

"I'm surprised she didn't get it perfect the very first time," Harry muttered sullenly, drawing a reproving glance from his...guess he would be my GUARDIAN, for the moment, he thought sourly. He wasn't certain why suddenly he felt so irritated. It was just...it wasn't fair that Hermione was horning in on his time with Lupin. Who was probably straight and not interested, anyway. And probably thought of him as a surrogate son or something. Harry silently cursed the day he was born.

"Hi, Harry!" Hermione said brightly when they found her, but wisely refrained from hugging her fellow student. Harry had a face like a thundercloud, and Hermione seemed to realize it would be best if she tried not to annoy him. "Gosh, do we have to leave already? I just found the most fascinating book and--"

"Later, Hermione," Harry told her stiffly.

Lupin attempted a smile, and was put off by the way Harry's face darkened further. "We'll come back after the lesson, how's that? I need to pick up a book on advanced thaumaturgical oils, at any rate. And the oils themselves, if we have time."

Hermione beamed, pretending not to notice Harry's face. "Oh, good," was all she said.

"Look, isn't this dangerous?" Harry asked as they wound their way through the street. "What if someone sees me here? What if someone wants to kill me? We can't practice this right out in the open, can we?" he wondered, puzzled.

"No, you're quite right about that. I'll have to explain when we get there--there are too many people about, today. It was clever of you to question it--but I'll have to ask you to keep quiet until I give the nod. All right?" Remus hated to do it, but he gave Harry an anxious look, and Harry nodded.

Harry, for once, had not so much noticed the look as the comment on his cleverness, and he found he was feeling suddenly much better about the whole ordeal. "You didn't think to ask that, did you?" he questioned Hermione in an undertone.

The girl pinched her lips before answering. "Well. I trusted they had all of that under control. And after all, it's hardly the sort of thing you ask about when you're in public," she hissed at him.

Harry only grinned. She hadn't thought to ask. Hermione looked cross about his smile for a moment, but then she shook her head and smiled back. She really was trying very hard to keep him in a good mood.

To Harry's perplexity, Remus led the students right into Gringotts Bank. He was about to ask, 'What are we doing here?' but then seemed to think better of it, shutting his mouth. This caused Remus to smile and nod almost rewardingly at him, and Harry felt heat creep into his cheeks. He had a sudden urge to touch the man, to be closer to him, and he hurried to walk by Lupin's side. Harry calculatedly brushed his hand against Lupin's at the first opportunity. He wasn't sure how Lupin would react to that--he always seemed so reluctant to touch people--but the man merely gave him another charming smile before leading him up to the counter.

Privately, Lupin was gratified by Harry's touch. He had been worried that, after the incident this morning, the boy would be uncomfortable around him. He hadn't intended to get carried away with the kisses; it was only that physical affection was so rare in the werewolf's world that he sometimes overdid it when given an opening.

The goblin at the counter had orange eyes, and gave them a sharp look. "Do you have your key?" he asked them, but instead of a key, Lupin produced a gold medallion.

"Actually, we need to make a deposit," the werewolf stated offhandedly, sliding the metal into the goblin's long fingers.

The bank worker scrutinized the medallion extensively before glancing up at the man, then gazing at him intently for a moment. He waved one of those long, bony fingers in the air, gesturing someone to come over. "Leftscratch," he called.

When a shorter, squatter goblin arrived, the one at the counter smiled. "Please take this party downstairs in order to make their deposit," he said in a clipped voice, and the second goblin nodded and led the way.

They entered what Harry had begun to think of as 'the mine shaft,' and clambered into a cart. Hermione looked totally composed, and Harry was, for his part, rather excited. He'd never been on a roller coaster or even to an amusement park, but he imagined that whizzing along a narrow track beneath Gringotts was probably a similar experience. He'd always enjoyed it. Remus was watching Harry, and Harry thought he looked slightly bemused.

The cart slowed to a stop outside a set of iron double doors, outside of which stood one sneering Severus Snape. When they'd all tumbled out of the cart on unsteady legs, Remus nodded to his fellow Order member, who merely looked disdainful. "Thanks for the help, Professor Snape," Remus said quietly. "You can tell them that everything went as planned."

"Very well. 'Idiot enterprise proceeding smashingly.' Don't worry. I'll make a note of it. Do not forget about tomorrow," he added, almost snapping the words. "Recall that it will likely be even less pleasant than last time. Since I'm forced to accommodate you in the matter, the very least you could do is attempt to arrive on time, for once. And if you are not, you shall not find me waiting." Sniffing a little, he Disapparated with a pop.

"What did he mean?" Hermione asked curiously, brown eyes glittering.

"It's nothing you need worry about," Lupin responded dismissively. "It just has to do with the potion Severus has been good enough to supply me with, once again. He really is a talented potions maker."

"He's a bloody wanker," Harry grumbled, getting a disapproving look from Hermione. "Well, he is. And he just totally disrespected Professor Lupin," he pointed out.

"I'm not really your professor anymore," Remus responded mildly, feeling just slightly pleased that Harry felt at all offended on his behalf. It had been too long since anyone cared about him that much.

"You pretty much are, at least at the moment," Harry pointed out reasonably.

Remus couldn't find anything to argue that with, so he simply smiled and turned to the goblin. "Leftscratch, if you would be so kind as to open the doors for us," he entreated, and the olive-skinned creature nodded.

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"All right," Hermione jumped in as soon as the doors swung shut, leaving the goblin waiting with the cart, and the trio in relative privacy, "what's going on? Why are we in Gringotts, of all places?"

"I thought you said you trusted them to have everything under control," Harry murmured as he walked past her. They were in a huge vault--the place was so massive, it must have started off as just a natural cavern. There were stalagtites and stalagmites, and a drip, drip, dripping came from the ceiling.

"We wanted a place that was secluded and safe. And no one has ever managed to steal anything from Gringotts before, so I doubt they'll manage to steal Harry," Remus informed the girl.

"Yes, but...Voldemort did break into Gringotts once, even if he didn't actually steal anything," she pointed out. "Are you sure this is enough of a precaution?"

"Hermione," moaned Harry. "Would you please stop badgering Lupin? I'm sure he knows what he's doing!"

Lupin merely smiled. "We are taking other precautions," he told her. "There are extra wards, spells, and enchantments, no less than three other members of the Order are patrolling both the bank and the rest of Diagon Alley, and Dumbledore has a few other tricks up his sleeve as well. And no, I'm not about to tell you what they are. And now, since we are doing this on other wizards' time, I suggest we get cracking!" he rubbed his hands together, looking just a little excited.

Harry grinned. "Glad to be teaching again?"

Remus ducked his head a little. "Well. To be honest, I did rather miss it," he admitted.

"Then I'm glad to have you teaching me again," Harry said softly. "I missed you, too." Lupin arched a brow at that, and Harry cleared his throat. "Uh. That is--well, you know. I wasn't making it up when I said you were the best Defense teacher we ever had. I'm really glad to be working with you again," he continued earnestly.

Lupin fought the smile that was spreading across his face, but only had partial success. "Thank you, Harry."

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After practicing for nearly three hours, Harry was exhausted--but somehow invigorated. Apparating was much harder than it looked, but it was still very rewarding. After listening to Lupin and Hermione lecture about theory and possible problems for nearly an hour, Harry had become irked and demanded the chance to try it himself. And he'd done it. The first time. Perfectly. Of course, every time after that he'd screwed up in some small way or other, but he was of the opinion it was totally worth it--for the look on Hermione's face. And it was really neat to start out at one spot and then instantly arrive at another. Of course, he never got to go very far--a few feet were the standard for beginners.

Plus, Lupin had clapped his arms around him, telling Harry how proud he was and how wonderful it was--which sent Harry right up to cloud nine. And he'd announced afterwards, "All right. Now back to Flourish and Blotts, to get that book and unwind a bit in general," which cheered the shocked Hermione quite a bit. Then, unfortunately, Lupin had to go and mention Sirius and James, and how proud they would be, and that made Harry feel guilty and resentful, respectively. He wasn't certain when he'd begun to resent his own father, but it was happening more and more often, recently. He suspected that a good bit of it was the small fact that he looked so remarkably like his father. Dumbledore had warned him he'd tire of that--and he had. Mostly, he felt, because if Remus saw him as a little carbon copy of James Potter, he could never be interested in Harry. Not that he would, anyway. But just in case. Still. Unfair.

When they arrived at the bookshop, Hermione dove into the stacks with all the passion of a scuba aficionado with permission to visit the Bismarck. Lupin went to ask the shopkeeper for his book, and Harry wandered around, waiting on his companions.

Harry found an area of tomes on the subject of Dark Creatures, and delved in with rather more interest than usual. This was what Lupin had taught them, and he'd made it so interesting that Harry had no trouble becoming absorbed in the subject once more. He picked up book after book, quickly finding himself so fascinated that he neither knew nor cared what the others were doing. After re-shelving a slim volume on Mermaids, his roaming fingertips skittered across the gold embossing of a large work titled The World of Werewolves, and he tugged it free, feeling intensely curious.

He had never gotten as far as werewolves in class--didn't even have the desire to do so. He didn't object to knowing more in general, but the idea of sitting among his classmates, as they all wrote down Remus Lupin's lupine traits, as if he was some sort of interesting project...it just seemed wrong. Now, though, he found himself wondering, What WERE some of the more distinguishing characteristics of a werewolf? How many of them were there? Were they any closer to finding a cure? Did werewolves share qualities outside of form, like...allergies, or likes and dislikes...sexual appetites...?

He was flipping through the book, completely absorbed, when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, which made him jump. "I'm sorry, Harry; I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to let you know I've found my book, so now we're just waiting on Hermione."

"Pull out a cot and set your alarm for 'Next Century,' then," Harry muttered, flipping a page.

Remus laughed quietly. "She won't be able to take that long," he told the boy. "Her parents will arrive to pick her up, shortly. I know it's a bit of an inconvenience, but I feel strongly that we should stay until we know she's been safely returned to their care."

"Mmm," Harry responded, feeling only a slight flaring of envy that Remus 'felt so strongly' about taking care of Hermione. Here was a picture of a werewolf transforming. It was lurid in its detail, but it also pretty well followed his own memory of the night he'd seen Remus transform.

"Good book, is it?" Remus inquired ironically as the poor bastard on the page went through the horrific conversion again and again.

Harry blushed and quickly turned the page as he realized the werewolf was starting to lean over his shoulder. The next chapter was so astounding Harry completely forgot his embarrassment. "Oh, wow! Would you look at this," he said to Lupin in a hushed voice, "Werewolves and Animagi, a Symbiotic Relationship. It talks about how an Animagus can be beneficial when a werewolf is in its lupine state! Just like Dad and Sirius did!"

Remus smiled at Harry and tilted the book so he could see the cover. "Ah, yes. Ignatius Ignobal. I believe this is the book that gave them the idea, actually. Or was it that they saw this segment in some other book?... I can't quite recall, at the moment."

"Wow. Really? This was what they read that made them want to become Animagi? This must be a really great book." He looked longingly at the cover. Why hadn't he thought to get some money out while he was at Gringotts? He'd already finished his course books. It would have been great to have some other kind of summer reading--and learn more about Remus at the same time.

Harry's desire must have shown on his face, because Lupin said, "If you want it that badly, I'll buy it for you." Harry looked up in disbelief, and the man smiled.

"You--" You can't buy this for me; you can't afford it. If you have the extra money, I'd rather you bought yourself some new clothes. A nice, silky shirt that you left unbuttoned partway down your chest, for preference. "Er, you don't have to do that. Really. I don't want you to spend money like that just to keep me entertained."

Lupin was smiling and disagreeing at the same time, shaking his head. "I didn't get you anything for your birthday--"

"You made that behemoth birthday cake for me, that's more than enough--"

"Then I'll do it to reward you for your hard work today. You did a fantastic job. You father would have been proud--he would have rewarded you, I'm certain of that."

Harry glowered. "Don't do it because that's what he would do. If you're going to do it, do it because you want to do it. I want Remus Lupin giving it to me, and I don't want my father involved, understood? I don't want you trying to fill his shoes. That's not fair to either of us."

Remus bit the inside of his cheek hard, trying to keep from smiling. "All right. You're absolutely right; it was inconsiderate of me to say that. Since Remus Lupin is more than a little proud of you, and Remus Lupin would like to show his friendship, and since Remus Lupin does not want you to be bored all summer, and especially since Remus Lupin finds it gratifying that you should have an interest in that particular subject, I, Remus Lupin, am going to purchase that book for you." He squeezed the youth's shoulder gently.

Harry gave him a crooked grin. "All right," he kept his eyes lowered. "I take it you think it's a good book, then?"

Remus shrugged, seating himself in an armchair arranged nearby for the patrons' use. Harry followed him and perched on the arm. "It's...an important book. It's not completely accurate, though. You see, Ignatius himself was not a werewolf, so he wasn't writing from firsthand experience. He was, however--and for whatever reason--obsessed with werewolves, so he researched the topic meticulously and put every bit of information he came across into that monster work. It was the first book ever written solely about werewolves, and added quite a bit to the intelligence--and misinformation--that people take for granted today."

"It was the first?" Harry's face fell. He'd been hoping for something detailing current developments in researching a cure. Oh, well. This should be interesting, at least. He scanned through the pages as they awaited Hermione. "Wow. A Werewolf mates for life," he read. "Is that true?" his eyes slid sideways to see the man flipping through his own book, a wry smile on his face.

"Haven't the foggiest," he mumbled. He sounded just a little bit awkward, so Harry let the subject drop.

Mate. What a sexy, romantic idea, he thought. Harry read on. There was all sorts of stuff about marking and possessiveness and territory and sex and the need to be near one's mate, and Harry was absolutely enthralled. Hermione even had to reach over and shake him, saying, "My parents are here, Harry. Didn't you hear me? We're ready to pay, now."

"Huh? Oh. Yeah, all right." Harry tore his eyes away from a drawing of one man (the werewolf) licking another (the mate) behind his ear. They were both men. Harry was thrilled and mortified. He should not think of Lupin that way. But, at the same time, he could not help it. He wanted that. He wanted to be Lupin's mate. Badly. He clutched the book to his chest, biting his sore lip. He was going to have to stop obsessing over this, really. It couldn't do any good.

"Gosh, Harry, I've never seen you so engrossed in a book before!" Hermione said to him. "It must be really great. Can I borrow it when you're done?"

"Erm. Yeah, maybe," Harry replied noncommittally. He felt distinctly uncomfortable at the idea of his friend perusing the same pages that had turned him on so much. He nodded at Mr. and Mrs. Granger, and after they'd all paid for their purchases, allowed Hermione to give him a quick hug goodbye. "Thanks for your help today."

She smiled as though he was a pet dog that had finally gotten 'stay' down correctly. "I'm always around if you need help, Harry," she told him. "Don't forget that. Anyway, next time Ron will take a turn. Try not to let him get stuck in any more rocks, all right? He did the first time, you know."

Harry laughed and promised, and the friends parted ways.

As he waited for Remus outside of the Apothecary, Harry kept going over the book in his head. He kept seeing that illustration of the two men. It was a wizards illustration, so they kept moving...the werewolf would work his way down the other man's neck, causing his mate to throw his head back in ecstasy. Well, it had looked to Harry like he'd been enjoying it, at any rate. He felt like the page was burning a hole in the book, or the book was burning hot under his arm. He felt guilty and excited, and was sure that if anyone looked at him, they would be immediately suspicious.

"All right, Green Eyes?" Harry suppressed a giggle as Remus led him back towards the Leaky Cauldron. The man pulled his wand out, ready to cast the Disillusionment Charm again.

Out of the blue, Harry heard someone yell, "Petrificus Totalus!" and watched with shock as Remus stiffened and pitched forward. He instinctively tried to catch the man, and didn't even hear the curse that hit him.

Remus was in Harry's arms, but that was the only thing right in Harry's world. He held desperately onto the werewolf as everything went black.

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