The Master Plan

Chapter Five: Paying a Visit to a Terrifying, Bloodthirsty Monster. But Not Snape. This Time.

Lupin looked very surprised when he opened his door. "Harry?" He stepped back, and Harry took it as an invitation to enter his chambers, biting his lip as he looked back at his former professor. "Well...I must say, this is unexpected." The werewolf ran a hand through his graying hair, looking distracted. He blinked intelligent amber eyes at the boy, as if this would somehow change what he saw; most of a messy-haired youth, eyes shining with good humor and mischief, standing barefoot in front of him in red pajamas, an invisibility cloak still half wrapped around his shoulders.

Harry tried to look contrite, but the cloak and dagger venture through the castle was still too much with him, and he was unable to stop the wide, sparkling smile that spread across his face. "Erm. Hi," he said, ducking his head a little. "Yeah, I would have written ahead, but I thought I'd be trapped with the World's Most Misanthropic Potions Professor for most of the night, and I never expected a chance to stop by." He shrugged and gave another winning smile. Okay, lies? He didn't tell lies. He wouldn't do something like that. But half-truths...those didn't automatically damn your soul for all eternity; did they?

Lupin seemed startled by this, and a series of emotions fought for control of his face. First, he seemed confused; this was understandable, his own mussed hair spoke of actually having lain on it and slept, previously, and Harry once again felt a jolt of guilt, to be waking him from a sleep he so badly needed. Next, he seemed...well, Harry thought suspicious, perhaps as though he was wondering why Harry was wandering around the school so late at night, but he also might just have been concerned; Harry had hardly spoken to him for months, and had never sought him out during this time for any reason. Then he seemed...mild, but mild in that way that Harry rather suspected meant he was actually upset about something, and was covering up really well.

"Ah. Yes. I'd...heard something about that. Are you quite all right? Severus didn't...physically hurt you, did he? Or something of that nature? Harry, if you need me to intervene, I'll--"

"No! No, it's nothing like that, Prof--er. Lu--um. Re, Remus," he finally managed to stutter out, feeling the unfamiliar word against his tongue. Why was it so difficult to call his former professor by name, after he'd even asked Harry to do so? It was as though the word was more than a transient label, but a permanent fixture in the man's personality. What would it be like to call Snape by his first name? Harry wondered. Impossible to imagine. Like calling Draco Malfoy 'Baby cakes.' The mind recoiled. "Um. No, it wasn't anything like that at all." He stared at the older man, taking in the lines on his face, the tiredness that never seemed to get wiped away, and the worried, hesitant features, as he stood hovering, always reluctant to reach out and give anyone the most casual touch. And above all, the aura Lupin had, which Harry had always been drawn to. It was a mixture of sadness and gentleness and regret, and comfort and competency and keen intelligence.

"Did you...did you want to talk to me?" Lupin asked him gently, eyebrows raised. He was worrying his lower lip, and Harry noticed his hands, which he normally had such control over, were twining and untwining themselves. There was a certain pain in the man's voice, but Harry thought he detected a hint of hopefulness, as well.

How worried they all must have been about me, he thought. And he looks as though he's actually nervous about me turning around and losing it and screaming at him, Harry coughed, looking away for a long moment. "Uh. Could--could we sit down a moment?" he finally ventured softly.

Lupin jumped at that. "Of course, Harry! Here, we'll just, in--in the other room, here," he led Harry to a ratty couch and a couple of overstuffed armchairs. Harry was sure he could have found something better at Hogwarts; he wondered if even the furniture might be attuned to its occupant's moods, and accommodate them accordingly. They were almost as tired and worn out as the occupant.

Harry sat across from the man, and avoided his gaze for a long time, trying to put his thoughts in order. There was one that begged to be said first, but he wasn't sure how to approach it, or even if he should. It would take a far different bravery than he was used to. It would, in fact, require thought, and perhaps that made Snape right about him again; that he did brave things because they were stupid things, and they were just a way to avoid thinking about them. Finally, Harry gave a sigh, and Lupin looked apprehensive. Harry was grateful; the man hadn't pushed or pressured him, he just waited patiently for Harry to find the words.

"Um. Will you promise me something?" Harry asked abruptly. His green eyes held a layer of anxiety.

Lupin seemed to consider this gravely, before giving a slight nod. "If I can, Harry. You do realize, you may be asking me for something I don't have any power over, or cannot give." His eyes were filled with concern and sadness.

"Nope. I think you could promise it, if you really wanted to. I mean, if you meant it, and kept it and mind and were careful, and all."

Lupin blinked. "All right," he said slowly. "What is it, Harry?"

Harry bit his lip. "Promise you won't laugh at me tonight. I mean, laughing with me is okay, but not like...please don't look at me like I'm a kid. I would just...just really like it, if you heard me out and took me seriously, and kind of...considered what I had to say. Like; give weight to it, like my thoughts and feelings matter as much as anyone's. Just treat me like you know that I mean it, and have a right to say it, that's all," he finished lamely. He hunched his shoulders, hands clasped tightly in his lap. He had no right to ask, and he knew it, but Lupin usually treated him that way all the time anyway. It was just that now he was asking for the chance to earn it.

Lupin obviously didn't understand what Harry was getting at, but he could tell it was very important. He had to handle the whole situation delicately; he never knew what kind of mood Harry would fly into, these days, and he'd give anything to hang onto this delicate peace between them. Very earnestly, he nodded and said, "Of course, Harry. Whatever you have to say, you should do so knowing that I respect you, and any conversation we have will be founded on that respect."

It was such a sincere, corny, Lupin type of thing to say, and Harry gave him a grin. Lupin felt himself relax. He'd apparently passed the test, if there'd been one. He tried to give Harry an encouraging smile. "And don't argue with me," Harry added abruptly, and Lupin stopped smiling.

"I'll try," he frowned.

Harry took a deep breath and looked determined, and Lupin reflected that he'd never seen Harry look so much like his father. The boy let a long breath out. "Remus, I'm sorry," he informed the man. "I know I've done and said a lot of things this year; a lot of awful, rotten, hateful, unforgivable things. Now wait--" he raised a hand, preventing Lupin from interrupting, and the werewolf closed his mouth again. "I know what you'd probably say; something about stress and grief and how we all deal with it in our own way, and how I've already been through so much, and no one should have gone through what I've been through at my age. Trust me, I know all the platitudes by heart.

"And maybe I could use those excuses, when I'm talking to Ron or Hermione. Or with Dumbledore, or Tonks, or any of the Weasleys, or just about anyone else, for that matter. But nothing gives me the right to use that on you. Because you went through everything I did when Sirius died; more, I've no doubt, because you'd been friends longer and the whole thing was only freshly healing from all the distrust and confusion. And your upbringing had to be somewhat comparable to mine; I've heard you talk about how you had no friends because you were a werewolf, and how painful your transformations are, and how scared you are that you'll get someone killed. Kill someone, whatever. The point is; you were there and you've done that, and watched him die, same as I did...and you were just as caring and decent to me--and everyone else--as you always are. And I wasn't. And I, I really appreciate your patience with me. I know I've put you through hell, and I know how hard it was to try to be nice all the time--ungrateful brat that I am, you should have just smacked me, you know; it probably would have shocked me into shutting up, or talking, whichever I wasn't doing at the time. Or asked Snape to do it; he would have been happy to oblige."

"If he ever raised a hand to you I'll rip his arms off and beat him to death with his own fists," Remus replied tightly, his posture tense. Harry gaped at him. "He didn't hit you, did he Harry?" the man continued anxiously. When Harry shook his head emphatically, Remus relaxed and looked a little embarrassed.

"Um. No, never," Harry continued. "Anyway. And you offered comfort as well as you could; considering there was none to be had for you.

"And if you. If you ever--want--to talk, about Sirius, about what happened. If you need somebody to lean on or even somebody to yell at...I mean; I know how you feel. And you're not the last one left, Remus. They may all have left us; even Peter in his fashion, but I'm still here for you. You don't--you aren't alone. And I'm not afraid of you, and yes, I do understand the risks and all, and I'll never be stupid or incautious concerning the werewolf thing. I just. I know you miss Sirius, and I know you're probably hurting more than words can even say, and I also know perfectly well that it's none of my business and all that, but it's offered, anyway. An ear. If you want it. Or a shoulder, take your pick. An arm or a leg, if that's what it takes to get you to forgive me. And I really hope, just this once, that you can take this for how it's meant; you don't have to take me up on any of it, but I'd appreciate being treated like an adult for the next few minutes, even though I know I haven't earned it. And I would really like it a lot if you'd consider me your friend, and accept my apology. Er. And forgive me. Even though I really don't deserve it."

Harry looked bashfully at Remus and offered his hand, being just as adult as he could think to be. Remus, whose eyes were suspiciously bright, reached out and took it, and pulled Harry into a bear hug. Or a wolf hug, as the case may be. In any case, it rather crushed Harry's ribs a bit, and the muffled noises Remus was making were a bit embarrassing, but Harry figured, you had to embarrass yourself occasionally, if you wanted to be a man about it.