The Breakage of the In-between.
“It’s times like these, wish I had a time machine
So I could see what you did October 13th
At 10:15, were you really asleep?
Were you lying to me and the family?”
January 7th, 1994. – Harry's POV.
The rest of Yule break went much as Christmas Day had. Emotional, loving and full of half-hearted bickering. Remus stayed the whole time, taking up camp in the spare bedroom that was never used but always kept fresh – Harry always wondered about that, especially when he caught James going in there with a forlorn expression on a hard day – and Harry could have sworn that Remus’ eyes widened in hesitation when Lily asked him if the room was still okay. “Of course it is,” Remus had said stiffly, to which Lily had taken his hand in hers and said softly: “You’re welcome to take James and I’s room, Rem. We get it.”
Remus had told her not to be silly and that the spare room was perfect, but Harry could tell it took a great deal of strength for him to spend that first night in there. It confused Harry and he wanted so badly to ask, “What is the big deal about a spare bedroom?!” but he wouldn’t. If it was something he needed to know, they’d tell him eventually.
After a few days, Remus had seemed perfectly comfortable in that room, even happy to be there. Harry felt silly to admit it, but seeing Remus living comfortably in their house felt special. He never really believed he would get to know Uncle Moony, he felt so ‘fairy tale’; too good to be true. But there he was in Harry’s own house, grumpy in the mornings, teasing over lunch and content after dinner. It was good. Everything was good.
Parting ways with his parents was always bittersweet, but it was easier knowing that Moony would be with him at school. He wasn’t riding the Hogwarts Express again, but Apparating to Hogsmeade and trekking to Hogwarts from there.
That lead to where Harry was now: on the train with his friends, Ron and Hermione.
He had been working up to telling them about his sexuality. He’d had a lot of time over the break to think about it. He spoke to Remus, James and Lily, too, and they thought that if Harry kept thinking about it, kept killing himself over it, he just had to do it. Had to get it over with.
Harry truly had no doubts that they would be supportive, but it was the question of ‘who’ that was sending Harry round the twist. Would they be mad that he didn’t want to share? Would they be offended? He voiced all of these concerns to Remus, and he smiled in understanding and said, “If they can’t accept your boundaries, they don’t deserve to know. You’ll tell them on your own terms, not because they want to force it from you. But Harry? I don’t think you have anything to worry about with Ron and Hermione. They’re great friends.”
And Harry trusted him. So he here was now, blurting out the words after silently panicking as Ron and Hermione bickered back and forth.
“I have something to tell you both,” he said, his stomach churning with anxiety despite knowing that they would accept him.
The bickering paused and they both turned to Harry with matching expressions of concern. Hermione was the one to ask.
“Is everything okay, Harry?”
How was he supposed to say it? It had been so easy telling his parents, because Remus had been there. Now, it was just him, and he had to say it somehow, didn’t he?
A sigh. A pause. Another sigh.
“I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Months, if I’m being honest. I think– no, I know...” Harry met Hermione's eyes. “I’m just gonna say it.”
He said it like it was a question.
A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, and Harry struggled to contain a wince at the sheer force of it. “Go on, mate. We’re listening.”
“I– I’m bisexual,” Harry paused, taking in the smile that graced Hermione’s face. She nodded for him to continue, her smile not faltering once. He cleared his throat. “It means that I fancy blokes, too. Like. I don’t know, I guess I like girls and boys? I mean, I don’t guess, I know that I do, um. Yeah.”
The hand Ron had on Harry's shoulder tugged him sideways, right into Ron himself and then they were sharing an embrace, Ron murmuring in his ear, “Happy for you, mate. No need to be worried.”
Hermione piled on top of the already awkward tangle of limbs, and still, she was smiling – had been through Harry’s whole awkward, stuttered spiel. “Harry,” she whispered with a thick voice, as if she was close to tears. “Thank you for trusting us with this. You’re amazing. Anyone would be lucky to have you as their partner.”
They untangled, and it wasn’t awkward like Harry thought it would be. They went back to their regular chatter, and Harry didn’t feel uncomfortable like he thought he would. That is until after a few minutes, when Ron looked back to him with a contemplative look on his face.
“Hang on,” he said, his eyebrows raising. Harry stilled. “You said you’ve only just figured this out?” Harry nodded tentatively. “You must fancy someone.”
“Er,” Harry stuttered, his cheeks heating against his will. Ron smirked. Hermione giggled.
“Go on, then. Who is it?”
Harry stood, patting his empty pockets for something to do with his hands. He left Moony’s wristwatch/stress toy in his trunk. “I’m just gonna go to the loo...”
He made to leave, but Ron caught his wrist. Harry faced him, seeing the frown on Ron’s face and feeling guilty.
“You don’t have to run away. I’m not gonna force you to tell us if you don’t want to.”
“Oh.” Harry sat back down, pulling at his finger. “Sorry.”
“Are you alright, Harry?” Hermione asked, frowning at him with a look of concern in her eyes.
“Yeah, I just... I don’t think I can tell you yet. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry, Harry. It’s really none of our business.”
“I want you to know, but...”
Ron’s eyes softened into something warm. “We get it. You’re not ready,” he said. Harry nodded. “It’s alright, mate.”
Relief washed over Harry like a wave. Godric, he’d been so stressed about this, and it was all for nothing. Harry let himself smile sheepishly at them, and then his thoughts strayed to Draco. The heat returned to his cheeks. “Thanks guys. I promise to tell you soon, I’m just not ready right now. I want to keep the peace for a while.”
“Keep the peace?” Hermione said, her bushy brows furrowed, perplexed.
“Harry,” Ron said, a chuckle in his voice. “We already told you: we don’t care that you’re into blokes,” he shook his head, “no, that came out wrong. We do care; it’s important. But we aren’t bothered by it at all. It doesn’t matter who you fancy, as long as they’re nice to you.”
“No,” Harry shook his head. Should he just get it over with? He kind of wanted to tell them about Draco. Maybe he could, just without saying his name? “You won’t like it.”
“Is he nice to you?” Hermione asked, taking his hand and warming it between hers.
“Well,” Harry said with an embarrassed smile. Because yeah, Draco was nice to him, but he was also really bloody mean. Though it wasn’t cruel as it used to be. What was once harsh and meant to hurt was now soft and teasing. Honestly, Harry really liked it when Draco teased him. It was so freeing to have someone unafraid to put him in his place. “He’s... somewhat nice to me.”
“Merlin,” Ron groaned. “You’re just like your dad, aren’t you?”
A bark of laughter fell from Harry’s lips. “What?”
“Harry, have you not noticed how giddy your father gets when your mum teases him?” Ron faced Hermione, laughing at Harry’s obliviousness.
“Well, yeah, but he’s always like that around mum.”
“But it’s even worse when she’s mean to him,” Hermione pointed out, and Harry couldn’t really argue the fact, because if he really thought about it, they were right.
“Oh.”
Ron was still laughing when he replied, “Oh, Merlin. It’s in your blood.”
Harry began to laugh, too. “I think you’re right. He’s so mean to me sometimes, but it’s so funny.”
“Oh, Harry,” Hermione chuckled, shaking her head. They all broke into raucous laughter, doubled over with tears leaking from their eyes.
***
After the feast, Harry visited Remus in his office to tell him that it went well with Ron and Hermione. He was so happy to hear it, and he didn’t even say “I told you so” once. Harry left Remus’ office with a big, happy grin on his face.
Instead of going straight back to the Common Room, Harry took a walk around the halls of the castle. It wasn’t curfew yet – wouldn’t be for an hour – so Harry took his time, breathing in the Scottish air and taking in the familiar castle that had grown to become a second home.
It was almost as if he was floating through the halls, his belly full and his heart warm, his mind fuzzy and even more so when he felt a tug on his arm, a seemingly invisible force pulling him into an alcove on the third floor.
“What?” Harry said, the alcove dark and cold.
“Lumos,” a voice whispered, and suddenly, Draco Malfoy was standing in front of him, beautiful as always. Harry beamed. “You’ve been smiling an awful lot today,” Draco mused, a tiny grin pulling at his lips. “What’s got you so happy, hm?”
Harry tried to reply, he really did, but when he opened his mouth, only a delighted laugh escaped and all he could do was throw his arms around Draco’s neck and cling to him, so happy to see him again.
But then the realisation of what he had done set in, and he froze. Draco was frozen, too. He clearly didn’t expect for Harry to hug him.
“Oh, I– sorry, I don’t know why I did that, I,” he began to pull away, but Draco relaxed in his arms and tugged him back, wrapping his own arms around Harry’s middle. Harry frowned but settled into the embrace all the same. “Are you okay?” he whispered.
“I–” Draco paused, a heavy silence between them for a second, before he continued in a whisper. “I’ve never hugged anyone before.”
“Never?” Harry asked, his eyes bulging and his heart tightening painfully. He tightened his arms around Draco, hoping to transfer as much comfort to him as possible.
“Just my mother.”
“Oh,” Harry said sadly, because isn’t that just devastating?
Devastating, because how could a boy so lovely, so radiant, be startled by a hug? Why hadn’t he been hugged by anyone other than his mother? What weren’t they seeing, what was Harry missing? Because all he could see was a touch-starved, love-starved, scared boy who deserved all the love in the world, physical and emotional. His friends had never touched him this way. Not even Pansy Parkinson, Draco’s best friend of many years.
Harry’s heart fractured for the boy who nuzzled further into his neck, who tightened his arms around Harry’s waist, who sounded so sad when he admitted that he had never felt this before.
Harry made a promise to himself from that moment forward that he wouldn’t go a day without finding the time to take Draco into his arms and just... just hold him.
After a few moments of silence, Draco chuckled nervously and pulled back just enough to meet Harry’s eye. “You never answered my question, you know.”
The elated smile broke over Harry’s face once more and he laughed, head thrown back with his mind running a million miles an hour. “I met my uncle!”
Draco’s eyes widened. “Moony?”
Harry had told Draco all about Moony. He was like a celebrity to Draco. “The one and only,” Harry nodded. "You’ll never guess who he is.”
“I know him?”
“Mhm,” Harry hummed, his lips pressed tightly together, trying and failing to conceal his grin.
“Salazar, I don’t know!” Draco said with amused exasperation. He seemed to want to know just as much as Harry wanted to tell him.
“Who’s my favourite professor?” Harry asked.
“Lupin, why?” Harry just smirked at him, waiting, waiting, waiting... “No!” Draco exclaimed, his lips parting in disbelief. Harry’s eyes were sparkling when he nodded erratically. “No bloody wonder you get special treatment! I always thought it was because you’re perfect Harry Potter, the boy who lived–”
“Hey!”
“–maybe even because your parents are the adults who lived or whatever. Point is, he’s Moony?!”
“He’s Moony,” Harry confirmed, so beyond happy that he was practically shining.
“Tell me everything,” Draco demanded, tugging on Harry’s wrist until they were both sat on the dirty floor. So he did. Harry told him absolutely everything, sparing no details, so by the time they climbed out of the alcove, it wasn’t far from curfew.
“Let me walk you to Slytherin,” Harry tried to persuade him, putting on his best doe-eyes and pouting his lips. He just wanted to spend more time with Draco. He wanted to spend all his time with Draco.
“No,” Draco replied, rolling his eyes at Harry’s expression. “Go to bed.”
“Wow. You’re ashamed of me,” Harry joked. “You don’t want your friends to see me.”
“Oh, shut it, Potter. You’re embarrassing yourself.”
“Draco.”
“Harry.”
“Have you told your friends about me?”
“You say that like you’re a secret lover.”
“Aren’t I?” Harry teased, but he longed for Draco to say yes. To say that he wanted Harry and only Harry, that they would spend their lives together.
For a thirteen year old boy, Harry sure had big feelings. He inherited that trait from his dad.
Draco smiled at him so, so sweetly. He looked down at his feet. “I... I haven’t told my friends about you.” Harry’s slightly-too-dejected oh had Draco looking up at Harry. He rushed to say, “But I want to. I wanted to talk to you about it first, just in case you felt funny about it. Have you... have you told your friends about me?”
Harry’s cheeks heated. “Well, I told them about a new... friend, but I didn’t tell them it was you. I almost did while we were on the train, but...”
“But you didn’t want to argue with your friends before you even arrived at school,” Draco finished awkwardly.
“It’s just. It’s not that.” Draco gave him a blank look. “Okay, it is kinda that. Hermione will be okay with it. In fact, I think she’ll encourage it.”
“Encourage it?” Draco repeated, clearly surprised.
“She’s always going on about how the rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor is immature.”
Draco nodded. “And Weasley?”
“He... he’ll need some time to come to terms with it.”
“Do you really think he’ll be able to ‘come to terms with it’? He hates me.”
“Draco... it’s not like you haven’t given him plenty of reasons to hate you,” Harry said nervously, afraid of upsetting their peace.
“I know that.” Draco scowled, but it was half-hearted. He’d opened up to Harry about how ashamed he was of how he’d treated the Weasley’s. How he only ever made fun of them for being poor because he was jealous that they were a proper family, despite having less money.
“Moony thinks he’ll understand,” Harry said, steering the conversation back to topic.
“You talk to Lupin about me?” Draco asked, his eyes widening in surprise.
Harry pushed his glasses up, smiling sheepishly. “Can’t really avoid it, can I? He always finds us together.”
“Yeah? And what do you tell him?”
Before Harry could reply, an exasperated sounding voice echoed around the corridor. “Good lord, are you two insistent on breaking curfew every night?” A smile broke across Harry’s face before he could even turn and face his uncle.
“Professor!” Harry exclaimed when he spun around, paused for a beat, and burst into delirious laughter. Doubled over with his hands on his knees, Harry couldn’t compose himself. How was he supposed to go on calling Remus ‘professor’? It felt so stupid, and if the grimace on Remus’ face indicated anything, it seemed that he agreed.
“Merlin, I bloody hate that,” Remus chuckled, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder.
Harry composed himself and stood to his full height, smiling up at Remus and ignoring the way his glasses now sat crooked on the bridge of his nose. “Reckon I can call you ‘Moony’ in class, then?” Harry asked, his eyes fluttering closed as Remus ran a hand through his mop of hair.
“Teacher's pet,” Draco coughed, but when Harry glanced over at him, he looked at the pair with amusement shining in his eyes.
“Coming from you?” Harry asked, barking a laugh. Clearing his throat, he mocked in a whiny, posh voice: “Powdered moonstone is the key element to a perfect Polyjuice potion, Professor Snape, sir!”
Draco gave Harry the blankest stare he could muster. “Have you ever even studied for potions? Do you even know what Polyjuice potion is?”
Remus chuckled, traitor that he was, and added, “Do you even know what powdered moonstone is?”
Harry glared at the pair of them. There was no way his own uncle was helping Draco Malfoy tease him. “I don’t need to know what powdered moonstone is to know what Polyjuice is. I’ve brewed and used it, you know?”
“No you haven’t,” Draco doubted, rolling his eyes, while Remus’ jaw fell slack and he stared at Harry with the most insane look in his eyes.
“What?!”
“Um.” Harry realised too late that maybe he shouldn’t have said that. “Last year. Hermione wouldn’t actually let Ron and I help brew it, but we used it.”
“Harry...” Draco seemed to be in a state of shock. “Just... what?”
Draco was still staring at him with wide eyes when Remus scolded, “That is so dangerous! Does your mother know about this? Why on earth would you do something like that?”
Harry snorted and addressed Remus. “We thought Draco would know who opened the Chamber of Secrets and it was the only way we could think of to question him.”
Draco spluttered very un-poshly at that. “What?!”
Harry faced him with a cheeky grin. “Long story, I’ll tell you another time.”
“Right...” Remus said, running a hand over his face tiredly. “I don’t even know what to say. I’m going to bed, and I suggest you boys do the same before you get caught.”
“No detention for me tonight, Professor Moony-Lupin?” Harry asked, fluttering his eyelashes at him.
Remus’ eyes glinted mischievously in the moonlight as he glanced between Draco and Harry. “Didn’t you say that Mr Malfoy here would kill you if you got him a detention, Mr Bambi-Potter?"
Harry's cheeks flushed in embarrassment and he glared at Remus.
“Bambi?” Draco snorted, but when he realised what Remus had said, his face took on a look of confusion and he asked, “Wait, what?”
“Oh,” Remus smiled, eyes moving to a confused Draco.
“Moony, I swear to Merlin,” Harry warned.
Remus laughed it off. “Harry was discussing y–”
Harry closed his palm over Remus’ mouth, muffling the rest of his sentence. He didn’t exactly know what Remus was going to say, but he knew it’d be incriminating.
“Don’t you have to get to bed, old man?” Harry grit, unimpressed.
Remus pulled Harry's hand away. His eyes softened. “Only messing around, kid.”
“Sorry,” Harry said, an embarrassed flush heating his ears.
Remus shook his head and smiled, pulling Harry into a comforting hug. “Love you, Haz. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay,” Harry nodded against his chest. “Night, Moony. Love you, too.”
Remus pulled back and sent Harry a wink before turning and leaving with a teasing, “Bye, Mr Malfoy.”
“Oh. Goodbye, sir,” Draco called after him. He turned to Harry once Remus was out of sight. “Do you recall when I said you get special treatment?”
“Yes, which isn’t true by the way.”
Draco stared at him incredulously. “Harry, you just told a professor that you illegally brewed and consumed an advanced potion with no adult supervision or permission, and all he did was ruffle that bird’s nest on your head and laugh.”
“He scolded me a little...” Harry scuffed his feet on the stone floor and grinned at Draco.
Draco laughed at him, and Godric was it a beautiful sound. “Whatever, Potter. I’m going to bed.”
“Okay,” Harry nodded, and pulled him into a tight embrace.
“Oh,” Draco said on a surprised exhale. He tightened his arms around Harry for the second time that night. After a beat, he spoke up again. “Harry?”
“Yeah?”
“I want to tell my friends,” he whispered.
Harry pulled back just enough to see Draco’s face. “And what would you tell them, exactly?”
Draco looked uncharacteristically nervous when he replied, “Hopefully the same thing you’ve told your friends...” he paused, chewing his lip. “I want to tell them that it’s you.”
“The same thing I told my friends?” Draco nodded, a red tinge to his cheeks. “I doubt that, but I want that, too.”
“You doubt that?”
“Mhm,” Harry hummed, blushing.
Draco smiled bashfully, “I don’t,” and then he buried his face back into Harry’s neck.
Harry wanted... he needed...
Bloody hell. He was a Gryffindor for a reason, right?
“Draco, I–” he took a shaky breath. “I like boys. Like, I fancy them.”
Draco nodded against his neck. “Yeah. Yeah, so do I.”
Harry breathed out a surprised “oh” because now... now Draco seemed attainable. Did Draco like Harry back? “That’s... that’s good to know.”
Draco pulled back, looking down at his feet. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m going to go to my dorm now,” Draco informed, but didn’t move.
“Okay. Goodnight,” Harry whispered.
“Goodnight, Harry,” Draco smiled, taking one last lingering look before turning around.
“Draco!” Harry blurted out. Draco turned his head and lifted his brows in question. “I’m gonna tell my friends, too.”
Draco’s face softened. “Good.”
Harry was left standing alone in a third-floor corridor, blushing wildly with a wide grin on his face.
***
March 16th, 1994.
Harry and Draco had decided to wait a few weeks before they told their friends. Those weeks eventually turned into months because one or the other kept coming up with reasons to put it off a little longer. They kept dancing around the idea of it, but when things became too real, one or both of them became too nervous and backed out.
The thing was, the opinions of their friends meant so much to them, but so did their own relationship (that was becoming very flirty, Harry would like to note) so Harry and Draco were worried that they would disappoint them by continuing their friendship (?) if they disapproved.
“I’m going home for the weekend to celebrate Remus and my dad’s birthdays,” Harry said to Draco the night before. “I’m thinking about talking to Ron and Hermione before I go.”
“You want to tell them and leave me to deal with their ire?”
“Hermione will be fine. It’s Ron I’m worried about, but he won’t say anything if I tell him not to. Mione will make sure of it.”
“Alright,” Draco nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. “I’ll do it as well. For real this time.”
And so that led Harry to where he was now: sitting cross-legged on his bed, picking at the loose threads on the bottoms of his favourite pyjamas with Ron and Hermione sitting on Ron’s bed, waiting for him to say what he needed to.
Harry cleared his throat. “Have either of you noticed how Malfoy has been leaving everyone alone this year?”
“Yes, actually,” Hermione said, nodding quickly. “He hasn’t insulted any of us – or anyone else, to my knowledge – at all. It’s weird, isn’t it?”
“Is it?” Harry asked, feigning uninterest, acting as if he wasn’t the one to bring it up.
“Isn’t it?” Ron asked, a scowl on his face. Not off to a great start then. “He’s probably up to something, the git.”
“I don’t think so,” Hermione disagreed.
Ron turned to her with an outraged look. “What?”
“If he was up to something, we would’ve noticed him sneaking around by now.”
“Harry noticed!”
They both turned to Harry. Ron had his arms folded and was clearly waiting for Harry to back him up, while Hermione just looked bored. “No, that’s what I’m saying. I haven’t noticed anything. Hermione is right.”
“So what do you think it is then?” Ron asked, looking utterly betrayed.
“I think he’s growing up. Maturing. I don’t think he’s trying so hard to please his father anymore.”
“What the bloody hell are you on about?” Ron asked, completely baffled. “You hate him!”
Harry took a deep breath and glanced over at Hermione before looking back to Ron. This was his chance, wasn’t it?
He shook his head, “No.”
“’No’ what?”
Hermione put a hand on Ron’s shoulder, drawing Harry’s attention to her. She smiled at him, a knowing look in her eyes. “Let him talk, Ron.”
Ron’s shoulders sagged and he waved a hand for Harry to continue. He took off his glasses, rubbed at his eyes and put them back on. “I don’t hate Draco. In fact, I really bloody like him,” Harry paused at Ron’s outburst of “‘Draco’?!”, but Hermione’s glare shut him down quickly and Harry went on. “We’ve been hanging out... a lot. It wasn’t on purpose in the beginning, we just kinda kept running into each other and I guess we got to talking? He’s different. He’s changed,” Harry looked at Ron seriously, “He doesn’t want to be like his dad anymore.”
It was silent for a few moments, the tension heavy in the air around them. Harry took Remus’ fidget from his pocket and began to tug at it.
“What about the bloke you fancy? Have you told him that you’re friends with Draco Malfoy?”
Hermione and Harry looked at each other and promptly burst into uncontrollable laughter. It lasted for a long few minutes, every so often dying down until Ron would shout a grumbly what and it would start all over again.
When the laughter ceased, Harry looked at his grumpy best friend with a lopsided smile. “Merlin, I love you. You really can be so thick sometimes, mate.”
“Love you, but are you gonna explain what’s so funny, or?”
“Ron!” Hermione laughed. “You seriously don’t know what Harry’s trying to say?”
“No!”
“Do you remember when I told you that you wouldn’t be pleased when I tell you who I fancy?”
“Yeah.”
“...Ron.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Impossibly, Ron started to laugh. Choking on his laughter, he managed, “You fancy Draco bloody Malfoy? This is too good,” and then he burst into another fit of giggles, clutching his stomach and falling into Hermione, who was also red in the face with laughter.
“Um. I think... I think he might like me, too.”
“Well,” Hermione said after her and Ron had composed themselves. “He has always been rather... fascinated with you, hasn’t he?”
“Fascinated?” Ron snorted. “Obsessed, you mean.”
“Don’t be nasty, Ron,” Harry scolded.
“It’s true!”
“Whether it’s true or not, I don’t want you to make any rude comments about him. He’s important to me, okay? He won’t treat you like he used to, alright? And that isn’t because I asked him not to, it’s because he doesn’t want to be cruel anymore. That isn’t who he is,” Harry said firmly. “I’m making it clear right now that I do not want you to say anything to him while I’m gone. I won’t have it. I’m not asking you to be his best friend; I’m asking you to be civil.”
“Okay,” Ron said simply. “Okay, Harry. If he really means that much to you, I will be civil with him. But if he does anything, and I mean anything to upset you, I won’t pretend that I’m okay with it. You’re my best friend.”
“Thank you,” Harry said quietly, awfully touched. Ron took the news a lot better than Harry thought he would. “Hermione? You haven’t said anything really...”
“Harry,” Hermione started delicately, pausing to stand up and walk over to Harry. She pushed her finger through his hair and said quietly, “It’s just nice to see you so happy. Malf- Draco has clearly been keeping you busy. I feared that you wouldn’t have a good year with all of the Sirius Black stuff going on, but you’re radiant. I just... it’s really nice.”
“He does make me happy,” Harry nodded, closing his eyes at the feeling of her nails scratching at his scalp. “We talk a lot. He’s helped me with the Sirius Black stuff.”
“I just assumed you were happy because of Professor Lupin,” Ron said.
“Draco isn’t the only person who’s had an impact on me this year,” Harry said. “Remus has changed my life. He’s family, you know?”
“Yeah,” Ron smiled, his freckled cheeks dimpling. “I know we’ve just had a somewhat serious conversation, but... I’m starving.”
Harry laughed. “Let me change and we’ll go to dinner.”
They did just that. They went to dinner, stuffed themselves full of good food, and if the Slytherins were staring at Harry a little more than usual, Harry didn’t notice. Just like the way Draco didn’t notice Ron and Hermione’s stares. They were too busy staring at each other with content little smiles on their faces.
Harry glanced to Parkinson, Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle, then back to Draco and cocked his head in question. Draco nodded, a slight red tinge to his cheeks. He looked at Ron and Hermione, back to Harry and raised a brow. Harry smiled, nodding.
***
May 23rd, 1994. – Remus’ POV.
Remus was having a shameful craving for chocolate muffins.
He really did try to sleep it off, but he just couldn’t. He’d been tossing and turning in bed since 8pm, and yes, he was an old man with an early bedtime, hilarious – he had heard it all before. Point was, he couldn’t sleep, so now he was on his way to the kitchens, hoping that the elves would so kindly grant his wish.
The halls were dark and empty and his footsteps echoed with each step, making him wince and pray he wouldn’t wake the snoozing portraits.
It’s when he descended the stairs leading to the second floor that he heard the voices.
“What business do you have sneaking around in the middle of the night?”
“Professor–”
“So like your father. A good for nothing misfit always seeking to cause trouble. Well, it seems to me like you are eager to lose the house cup this year. 10 points from Gryffindor House for scheming.”
His drawl had always been the same, the slimy prick. Remus had managed to avoid Severus Snape as much as he could this year, but this wasn’t an instance where Remus could just turn around and pretend like the voice of Snape didn’t grind his gears.
His pace quickened and his fists clenched tightly by his sides. The absolute nerve of this man. Remus’ own age, and yet a bully. To children, no less. It was pathetic.
“Don’t you dare talk about my dad like that!”
Remus knew that voice, too. He knew it intimately. He should have known.
“Detention, boy. Filch’s office, Saturday morning,” Remus could hear the smirk in his voice. It made his blood boil. “I will speak of that Potter any way in which I please.”
He paused before he rounded the corner, composing himself. Severus would only take gratification in seeing Remus’ anger.
Taking a breath, he stepped around the corner.
“I hope I’m hearing things, Severus. I know you wouldn’t stoop so low as to call a child ‘good for nothing’,” Remus said, his voice calm, friendly even. Harry’s head whipped towards him and relief flooded his expression as soon as he saw that it was Remus. He stepped forward and put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, facing Snape’s infamous sneer.
He looked like he had dung under his nose when he said, “I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that you have been hearing things, Loony Lupin.” Remus just chuckled at his attempt to piss him off. Snape’s sneer deepened. “Why don’t you run along?”
“I don’t think I will,” Remus replied pleasantly.
“I am merely disciplining a student for being caught out of bed after curfew, again. Surely you do not disagree that Mr Potter here deserves a punishment?”
Remus’ smile turned sarcastic. “What I disagree with, Snivellus, is the form of bullying you describe as discipline. You are sorely mistaken if you believe I will ‘run along’ and let you continue to spit filth at my nephew where no one else can hear.” Remus tightened his hold on Harry’s shoulder, firm touch to keep him grounded. Harry moved closer into his side. “I’m sure Minerva would be most displeased to find that you have been targeting a student because of your own personal issues that have nothing to do with him, no?”
With most satisfaction, Remus watched Snape’s face morph into a look of pure fury.
“You dare to stand there and use that foul, immature name in front of the boy? You dare to stand there and threaten me?” Snape fumed, his face scrunching up and turning an unattractive shade of red. “Some role model you are. You forget how much I know about you, Lupin. You wouldn’t want me to let slip one of your secrets... I wonder, would Potter admire you so much if he knew the things I do?”
The malicious grin on Snape’s face was infuriating, and Remus... Remus didn’t know what to say. He was speechless, because how could he argue with that? Would Harry admire him if he knew? Fuck.
But his momentary panic fell away when Harry stepped away from Remus, stalking closer to Snape, angrier than Remus had ever seen him. “Remus is ten times the man you are, sir. There is nothing you could tell me that would change that.” Remus was certain that his heart swelled three sizes too big in that moment. “My dad, too. Leave them alone.”
With a huge grin, Remus looked from Harry to Snape and raised a brow. Snape huffed and grit, “Another 10 points from Gryffindor. See to it that he gets back to Gryffindor tower, Lupin.” He started to stalk away with a dramatic flourish of his robes, but turned and said to Harry: “If you knew the things I do, you wouldn’t be so quick to defend him.”
Harry rolled his eyes and turned to Remus, who said: “Merlin, he’s still such a prick.”
“Tell me about it,” Harry agreed.
While it may have been an abuse of power, Remus smiled at Harry and told him, “I’m very proud of you, kiddo. 30 points to Gryffindor for showing resilience and bravery.” Harry practically beamed. “You should get off to bed now, Haz.”
“Thank you, Moony. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, mate. Goodnight.”
“Night, Moony.”
Remus was about to continue his walk to the kitchens when he saw something fall from the pocket of Harry’s robe. Harry didn’t notice, so Remus picked it up and called for Harry to come back.
When Harry turned and saw what Remus was holding, he went still. Remus looked at the parchment, and...
Oh.
“Harry... where?” Remus was at a loss for words. He hadn’t seen it in so long. “Where did you get this?”
“Er. Fred and George gave it to me...” Harry was scuffing his feet awkwardly on the stone floor. “I know it’s your map. Sorry I didn’t give it to you.”
Remus softened. “I’m not worried about that, love. How do you know it’s mine?”
“It says Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs.”
“Oh. Does your dad know you have this?”
“No. Should I have told him?” Harry asked, confused. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”
“Not a big deal? Harry, there is a killer on the loose!” Remus scolded, hating the way Harry’s face fell. “What if Sirius Black got his hands on this?”
“I– I didn’t even think about that. I’m sorry, Moony,” Harry said quietly, looking down at his feet. He was clearly upset with the way Remus was going about this. The last thing Remus wanted was to upset Harry.
“No,” Remus shook his head, pulling Harry into a hug. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be harsh, Harry. I’m just worried about you. I’m sorry.”
Harry looked up at Remus, his face pressed against Remus’ chest. He grinned. “What did I say about saying sorry?”
“You’re amazing, do you know that?”
“I’ve been told once or twice,” Harry replied cheekily. “But please, tell me more.”
Remus laughed heartily and put his palm flat against Harry’s face, pushing him away. “You get your cheek from James, you know? You’re just like him.”
“It’s really nice to hear that from someone who really knows it,” Harry said, his eyes vulnerable. “You’re Dad’s best friend, so I know that you actually know what you’re talking about. But people say it all the time, and they never really knew him, you know? I believe McGonagall when she says it, but it’s just different coming from you. Nicer.”
“Well,” Remus smiled. “Let me tell you with full honesty: You and James are very similar. It’s in your looks, your cheeky comments, your big heart and your mischievousness. You may not be a carbon copy of him, but you’re just as amazing. Don’t let anyone tell you different, yeah?”
“Thank you, Moony. I’m glad you’re my uncle.”
Now Remus really had to leave before his heart exploded.
“I’m glad you’re my nephew,” Remus replied with a genuine smile, his heart beating happily to the rhythm of family, family, family. “You’d better get off to bed, alright? It’s late. Do you have the cloak with you?”
“Yeah. Snape only caught me because I tripped and it fell off,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Take the map. I don’t use it all that much and I know it means more to you than it does to me.”
“Thank you, Harry,” he replied, snorting as he said: “Make sure you don’t trip on your way to the dorm.”
“Oh, be quiet,” Harry laughed.
“I’ll bring you a chocolate muffin to breakfast,” Remus promised, winking cheekily.
“Thanks!” Harry chirped. “Night!”
“Bye, Harry.”
Smiling, Remus made his way to the kitchens and was warmly welcomed by the house elves who made him a whole plate of muffins with the snap of their little fingers. He thanked them for their time and effort and quickly trekked back to his room.
Once he got back, he sat the plate on his bedside table and covered them with a Stasis charm to keep them warm. Before casting, he took one from the pile and settled in bed, sighing at the chocolatey warmth that coated his tongue when he finally took his first bite.
Wanting to check that Harry had gotten to bed safely, he pulled the all-too-familiar map from his pocket and whispered, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” The words left a wave of nostalgia to wrack his body, and he found that a small, private smile was now sitting on his lips.
It was easy locating Gryffindor tower. It was muscle memory at this point, to know exactly where to find something without searching for it. Sure enough, Harry was in his dorm, most likely falling into a deep slumber under those comfy, red sheets that Remus missed so much.
Taking the last bite of his muffin, Remus decided to look over the map for old times sake, a child-like excitement rushing through him as he spotted Mrs Norris wandering around the dungeons.
The excitement instantly ceased when he saw who Mrs Norris was following, though.
Surely not.
It– no, it was impossible.
Either Remus’ eyes were deceiving him, or Peter Pettigrew was being chased by Mr Filch’s cat.
***
“James! Lily!” Remus shouted frantically as he entered into the Potter’s living room through the Floo. “Fuck!” he yelled as he tripped, his ankle twisting nastily on his way to the floor.
A light upstairs had turned on and the sound of heavy footsteps were descending, coming closer and closer until Remus felt someone kneel down beside him and put a hand on his shoulder, guiding him up from the floor and onto the sofa.
“Remus!” the voice shouted, but it sounded foggy, far away. That didn’t make sense. Remus could see from his position on the couch that the figure was crouched in front of him. It was James. Fuck, he was going to have to tell James. Fuck.
“James,” he croaked, his breath coming in short pants. He tried to form comprehensible words, but they wouldn’t come. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t even think. The panic was overtaking his body and he couldn’t fucking do this.
James pushed Remus’ head between his knees and Remus could distantly hear Lily’s voice, telling him to take deep breaths. He tried. Merlin, he really fucking tried, but it was so hard to breathe and it felt like he was going to die, and was he shaking? He thought so, but his brain was fuzzy and he thought he was probably going insane.
“I can’t– fuck, I can’t breathe,” he managed to wheeze, choking on a cough that caught in his throat.
“I know, Moony, I know. It’s alright, we’re here. You’re safe,” James was saying, but he sounded worried, so worried, and Remus was such an idiot. “Shh, Remus. We’ve got you.”
It took a while for James and Lily to become more than blurry blobs in Remus’ vision, but when they finally did, he avoided eye contact, ashamed at the realisation that he had just burst into their home uninvited and had a fucking panic attack on their couch.
“Sorry, I’m sorry. Fuck, I–”
“You’re panicking again, Remus. Stop,” James said, firm enough to make him stop talking. “Now, I want you to do something for me. Tell me four things that you can see.”
“What?”
“Do it, please.”
“I can see you, Lily,” he looked around the room, “the fireplace and the coffee table.”
“Good,” James smiled, his tone fatherly. “Now, three things you can hear.”
“The wind, the fire, your voice.”
“Two things you can smell?”
“Toothpaste and tea,” Remus answered as a cup of tea floated in from the kitchen and settled onto the table in front of him.
“Very good, Moony,” James praised. “Last one now, okay? Name one thing you can feel.”
“You,” Remus said quietly. He leaned into James, the warmth of his sleep-ridden frame seeping into Remus. “You’re warm.”
“Good,” James smiled. He took Remus’ hands and warmed them in his.
Lily was on his other side, sweeping her fingers through his hair. Her voice was soft when she said, “You told me you don’t get panic attacks anymore.”
“I don’t,” Remus answered honestly. “That was the first time it’s happened in years.”
“Remus... what happened?”
Taking a shaky breath, Remus he unclenched his fist from around the map he had been clinging to. He handed it to James, who said: “Is this? Where did you? How?”
“Harry had it,” Remus whispered, exhaustion falling heavy over his shoulders. “I took it from him because I was worried that maybe Sirius would find a way to get it...” James winced, and Lily’s frown deepened. “But I saw... I saw...”
“You saw what?” James asked quietly.
“Peter, he– he isn’t dead, James. Pete’s alive, I saw him on the map, I swear, I saw it.” James... didn’t look as shocked as Remus felt. In fact, he didn’t look surprised at all. “Peter is at Hogwarts, James. He’s not dead. Sirius didn’t... Fuck, I can’t fucking breathe, fuck.”
“Hey, you’re alright. It’s okay, breathe with me, okay?”
James demonstrated a few different breathing patterns that Remus did his best to follow along with. Eventually, his breathing was back to normal and Lily pushed his tea into his hands, telling him he needed to get some fluids into him.
“Thank you,” he breathed out. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Nothing is wrong with you, Remus,” Lily said, finality in her tone. “Your body has gone through a shock and this is its way of coping. You’re not broken because you reacted to a hard situation.”
“Have I been wrong this whole time? I thought... everyone thought...”
“Remus... we know,” James whispered apologetically.
“You know?” Remus asked. “You know what? That Peter is alive? You knew and you never told me?”
“Well, we didn’t actually know until you just told us, but... yeah. We knew.”
“What?”
“That day... there was a shift in the protective magic,” Lily said slowly. “We weren't exactly sure what it was, but we could feel that it was different.”
“We think it was the Fidelius,” James added.
“What do you mean?" Remus asked.
“It’s only a guess, Remus. You have to understand that. But we think that Sirius asked Peter to be Secret Keeper instead of him. He always said that the Death Eaters would know he was the Keeper, and it made him nervous. Everyone knew that we named him Godfather to Harry. Looking back... he was right. It was stupid for us to ask that of him. It was careless. The shift in the magic – we think that it was Sirius and Peter swapping.”
James took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes. “That happened the day Peter ’died’. But there was something that just didn’t make sense. Sirius had been so worried about it all. About Harry. You saw it. It wasn’t an act,” James paused, and Remus realised that he was right. It was so out of character, so unlike Sirius. That’s what made it so shocking, so painful. “Sirius would rather have died than betray us. Betray everyone. So I went to the Ministry the next morning. I demanded for the Aurors to let me see him, but they wouldn’t budge."
“While James was there, I had Dumbledore here," Lily said. "I was begging him, fucking screaming at him. He wouldn’t even entertain it. He said I was ‘emotional’ and ‘in shock’. As if I didn’t know how to process my emotions, as if I was a child. I sent him away and he didn’t even apologise. Not for letting Sirius take the blame, not for sending you away to work with the werewolves, not for starting a war movement and doing nothing but sit back and watch kids fight it for him,” Lily spat, angrier than Remus had ever seen her. James put a hand on her knee and continued.
“They wouldn’t let us see him, so we asked for a trial. Give Sirius a trial, just like they had given trials to the real Death Eaters. You know as well as I do that they didn’t even grant him that,” James said, but he wasn't angry like Lily. He was fucking devastated. His eyes were big and sad, and Remus couldn’t take it. He averted his eyes. “Even after you left, we didn’t stop. We begged, and begged, and we fucking begged, but they wouldn’t listen.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Remus asked, just so defeated at that point that he couldn’t find the strength to be upset.
“What if we were wrong?” Lily replied simply. “You were so fucking sad, Rem. We didn’t want to get your hopes up for them to just come crashing down again.”
“I know. It’s just– it’s a lot. I ruined everything,” Remus said, the long-awaited tears finally beginning to fall.
“No!” James protested loudly, “Absolutely not! None of this is your fault.”
“Maybe not. Maybe it’s all Peter fucking Pettigrew’s fault. But it doesn’t matter. Sirius was my fiancé, and I didn’t believe in him. All this time, I thought he was the one who betrayed me. Turns out, I’ve been the traitor this whole time. I betrayed him, and that is my fault.”
“Remus–”
“I still love him,” Remus laughed, but nothing was funny. “I love him, and I have this whole time. I will for the rest of my life. I love him and I failed him. I failed the love of my life–” Remus began to sob. He couldn’t for the life of him stop it from happening, for the ache in his heart was too much to bear without losing it.
He cried for the love that had been lost. He cried for the years of friendship that had been lost. He cried for the boy who once said he didn’t want to be like his family. He cried for the man who had spent twelve years of his life in a prison he was not supposed to be in. He cried and he cried and he cried.
He cried for himself. There on Lily and James’ couch, he cried for himself, clinging to his friends like he once had all of those years ago, wishing for this all to have been a terrible dream that he would wake up from, glad it wasn’t real.
It wasn’t just a bad dream, though. This was wholly and completely real, a living nightmare that Remus couldn’t escape from, not even if he tried harder than he had ever tried for anything.
“Fuck!” Remus yelled suddenly, tears still falling as he got to his feet. “I didn’t go after him! Why didn’t I go after him? Shit, I have to go,” Remus rushed out, frantic in his haste to get a handful of Floo powder.
James’ hand on his arm stopped him. “No, Remus. Not tonight.”
“Not tonight?” Remus blurted, utterly confused. “What do you mean, ‘not tonight’? We have to find him; we have to– we have to–”
“We have to what, Moony?” James asked tiredly. “We can’t do anything right now. There’s nothing we can do, and I’m so fucking sorry that we can’t. I’m so, so sorry, Remus. I wish we could change this, but. But...” James said, tears beginning to glisten in his own eyes.
“Prongs,” Remus whispered apologetically.
James started to cry, a sight that Remus just couldn’t take, so he pulled James into his arms and held him, stroking his fingers over the nape of his neck and letting him break down. Lily was silently crying on the sofa. “I miss him so much, Moony. It’s so much, and he’s not in Azkaban anymore – which is good – but he’s not here either. He’s not here and he thinks we hate him and– and–”
“I know,” Remus whispered, his throat constricting painfully around the lump of hurt. “I’m sorry, Prongs. I’m sorry.”
Silently, Lily got up from the couch and wrapped her arms around them both, a comforting weight surrounding them completely. “Sirius will be okay. I know it’s hard to believe, but I really think it’s true. He’ll be with us soon. I can feel it.”
“Are you staying here tonight?” James asked him once they had all calmed down a little.
“No,” Remus shook his head. “I have to get back and clean up Minnie’s office.”
“What?” Lily asked. “At this hour? It’s 2am.”
“Yeah, I kinda broke into her office to use the Floo and made a bit of a mess on my way here...” he admitted sheepishly. “Oh, and I told Harry I’d bring him a chocolate muffin to breakfast. They’re on my bedside so I’ll remember.”
“Should I ask?” Lily smiled.
“Probably not,” Remus grinned. “It’s a whole tale and I really don’t want to talk about Severus fucking Snape right now.”
“Oh, for fucks sake, is he still giving Harry a hard time?” James asked, a scowl on his face.
“I sorted it out. Actually, it was Harry who sorted him out. Took him down a few pegs; it was brilliant.”
“Ah, that’s my son,” James said happily.
“I should go, but I’ll Owl you?”
“Please do,” Lily said.
“Don’t worry about Peter, alright?” James said. “You have the map, and he doesn’t know that you’ve figured him out. It’s only a matter of time before he’s caught.”
“Okay, yeah. I know,” Remus said, his tone grim.
“I’ll see you in a few days. Be safe, Moons.”
“James, you really don’t have to spend the Full with me.”
“I know,” James said, gripping Remus’ neck. “I want to be with you. Don’t argue,” he finished, pressing a sloppy kiss to Remus’ cheek.
“Gross,” Remus laughed. He looked between James and Lily with a sad smile. “I love you both.”
“I love you, too,” the couple chorused at the same time.