Of Warriors and Will

Harry liked Professor Lupin, he really did.

Professor Lupin was easily Harry’s favorite teacher he ever had. The man was kind, thoughtful. His lessons were interesting and practical. There was something about him that was comforting, kind of.

Ron said that Harry was just relieved he hadn’t tried to kill him yet. Hermione said that the bar was on the floor for defense professors and Lupin was only stepping over it.

Whatever the reason, Harry liked Professor Lupin.

Did he like him enough to appreciate being woken up by him in the middle of the night with a whispered request for Harry to go for a walk with him? Er, no.

Also, it was more than a bit creepy to be asked that.

Harry did quietly slide on his trainers and newest Weasley sweater when Lupin seemed serious about it though. In the back of his mind, Harry was worried that the middle of the night visit had to do with his boggart.

What a mortifying experience that had been, honestly.

It was good of Professor Lupin to not go on about it earlier though. Harry had expected to see a dementor, maybe even the teenage version of Tom Riddle that he had met the year before.

Uncle Vernon had been a nasty shock.

Harry hadn’t told his friends about his boggart when he returned to the common room. He briefly told them about the incantation and the happy memory bit before excusing himself to go to bed.

Then Harry tossed and turned, half-awake and unsure what had been nightmares brought on by his uncle’s appearance and what was only memories.

Harry would have liked a chance to take a shower, but Professor Lupin had been waiting for him while Harry threw on his shoes and sweater so he figured he didn’t have time for a shower.

“Your cloak,” Professor Lupin whispered when Harry stood up and peered curiously at him. With his glasses on, Harry could see that Lupin didn’t seem angry or agitated. Harry didn’t know why he thought he would be, Lupin never seemed too worked up, but Harry never saw him in the middle of the night either.

Harry hesitated when he opened his trunk. He almost grabbed his usual black cloak but he sensed that Lupin meant his invisibility cloak.

“And your wand?” Lupin said, grinning just slightly when Harry had collected his cloak.

Harry couldn’t begin to guess what his professor wanted in the middle of the night, but if he wanted Harry to take his wand then he probably wasn’t planning on killing Harry.

Probably.

Harry dutifully pocketed his wand from his nightstand and opened his mouth when Lupin waved his wand and Harry’s clothes from the wardrobe flew toward his trunk. Lupin held a hand up for quiet and Harry watched with a furrowed brow as all of his belongings were sent to his trunk.

Was… was Harry being expelled?? It seemed far-fetched, but Harry was struggling to find any other reason for why Lupin then shrunk Harry’s trunk and summoned it to place in his pocket.

Had Professor Lupin decided to tell Professor Dumbledore about Harry going to Hogsmeade after all? Or - maybe Sirius Black had entered the castle again and they decided it was too risky to keep Harry with the other students?

Professor Lupin tilted his head for Harry to follow him and Harry obeyed while his heart ached.

What would he tell Ron and Hermione? He would see them again, wouldn’t he? Even if Harry was being expelled, they could write? Mrs Weasley might not want Harry at her home again, she might think he was a bad influence on the Weasley kids, but Hermione’s parents didn’t have to know Harry had been expelled. He could figure out the best route to Hermione’s place and see her during the summer.

Maybe.

Harry’s head hung low and all of his thoughts about his relatives were laughable suddenly. As much as they disliked him on a good day, Harry couldn’t imagine that they would be pleased if he were returned to their house in the middle of term.

As if he were sensing Harry’s thoughts, Professor Lupin spoke up as soon as they were in the empty common room.

“You aren’t in trouble, Harry,” he said quietly. “If you would indulge me, I only want to have a conversation. Preferably, somewhere private.”

Harry was confused by that and not at all annoyed when Professor Lupin pulled a familiar piece of parchment from his inner coat pocket.

“Come closer, if you would,” Lupin said as he unfolded the parchment. Harry shuffled closer, more out of curiosity, and watched when Lupin put his wand to the map.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” Lupin said.

“Sir? How do you…?” Harry trailed off, unsure if it was a stupid question or not. The map was entirely unique, of that Harry was sure. Lupin did say that he knew the makers of the map though, so possibly they had told him how it worked.

“Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs,” Lupin read, looking at Harry across the map, his gaze even. “Four boys who thought they were the brightest to step foot in the castle. They were the closest of friends, the worst mischief makers that Hogwarts had ever seen.”

Harry nodded slowly, he had sort of assumed that. Not the bit about being friends - and it was impressive that they were students and not some sort of group of teachers when they made the map. The mischief makers part made sense though.

“Harry,” Professor Lupin looked nervous suddenly. It was nothing obvious, just the way he shuffled, how his eyes dropped down to the map that displayed the castle. Whatever he did or didn’t see seemed to harden his resolve because Lupin sighed deeply before looking at Harry again.

“If I told you that I am a werewolf, what would you say?”

Harry, in what he thought might have been poor timing, yawned.

“Sorry! Sorry, Professor!” Harry could feel the heat rising to his face after he yawned. “I’m, er… I’m sure you - actually, I’ve got no idea what you wanted me to say? Is that - it’s not a full moon, right? So… so…”

So Harry was actually unsure how Professor Lupin being a werewolf was relevant to the map. Harry also had no idea how either of those things were relevant to the conversation they were having, or why Professor Lupin had Harry’s belongings in his pocket.

Harry could feel a headache beginning to blossom in the back of his head though.

Professor Lupin didn’t seem wholly bothered by Harry’s yawn, or his blurted apology. If anything, he seemed relieved by Harry’s reaction. That was the only thing that made sense. Based on the recent lesson Harry had on werewolves (which, okay, had been during the full moon when Professor Lupin was ‘out sick’ so the signs were there), Harry assumed it wasn’t a piece of information that most wizards yawned over.

“It is not a full moon, no,” Lupin said with half a smile warming his expression. “Ahem.” Lupin pointed his wand at the top of the map where the names of the map-makers were. “Moony.”

Harry blinked, waiting for the man to say something else. When no more information came, Harry scrunched his face up in confusion.

What was he on about? There had to be —

Oh.

“Oh!” Harry grinned suddenly, pleased that he had pieced together some of the information. Professor Lupin wasn’t afraid of having his future told, he was afraid of the full moon, because he was a werewolf. And, Harry realized, a rather morbid nickname for a werewolf could be Moony.

“You made the map, sir?” Harry asked eagerly, his tiredness fading in light of the new information. “That’s brilliant, really.”

“Not alone,” Lupin said, his wand sliding to the last name on the list, Prongs. “I had help. Prongs… Prongs was a brilliant student, bright and talented. He was an animagus, able to transform into an animal. Can you guess what his animagus might have been?”

Something… pointy? A unicorn…?

Harry shook his head, rather hoping that Lupin would tell him. Sure, Harry didn’t understand why they were having the conversation in the middle of the night, but it was still interesting.

“Prongs was a stag when he transformed,” Lupin said. He waited until Harry met his eyes to clear his throat. “Prongs was James, Harry, your father.”

“Oh.” Harry felt as if the air had been knocked from his lungs for a moment. He looked down at the map and stared especially hard at the name Prongs. That meant… It meant…

“You and my dad were friends?” Harry asked, knowing it had to be true. Either Lupin had been incredibly close to Harry’s dad or he chose a very odd time to hurt Harry’s feelings.

“Your parents were some of my closest friends,” Lupin said, sounding entirely honest. “I only tell you this now so that you’ll understand when I swear on their memory I don’t do it lightly.”

Harry looked up sharply then, uneasy with any swear being made on his parents memory.

“If I swear on their memory that I mean no harm, I wondered if you might accompany me to get breakfast?” Professor Lupin asked, confusing Harry once again.

“It’s… not breakfast time,” Harry pointed out, feeling as if someone needed to. Harry was going to go with Lupin regardless, he had all of Harry’s belongings in his pocket, but he would feel better about that decision if anything else made sense.

“I know.” Professor Lupin folded the map up and pocketed it without clearing it. “I think breakfast tastes better in the middle of the night.”

Right…

“Are you…?” Harry had a sudden thought as a memory from Primary made itself known in his mind. They had a lesson once, warning them about strangers. Allegedly, strangers would pretend to know their parents and use a ruse to get a child alone before doing ‘horrible things’ to them. Harry had spent probably six months patiently waiting for a stranger to abduct him, believing it would be preferable to living with his relatives.

“Sir?” Harry frowned at Lupin. “Are you kidnapping me?”

“You know what, Harry?” Professor Lupin smiled slowly. “I suppose I am.”

Well, at least Lupin seemed to actually know Harry’s parents.

Harry, in his opinion, made a decent kidnappee.

It wasn’t until Professor Lupin had led Harry through the castle and they were approaching the front doors that Harry began to falter. Lupin seemed nice enough, but there was a rather mad man on the loose who wanted to kill Harry. It would be reckless to follow Lupin out of the castle without asking any questions at all.

“Er… Professor?” Harry was under his cloak, at Lupin’s request, but Lupin didn’t startle at all at Harry’s quiet reminder that he was still beside him.

“I don’t think I’m allowed to leave the castle, on account of - er… Sirius Black?” Harry said.

“And yet,” Lupin’s lips twitched in what Harry thought was amusement, “I don’t recall that stopping you from visiting Hogsmeade with your friends.”

Well, no. But that had been different. It was during the day, for one. Harry didn’t know how heavy the dementor presence had been, for two. And Harry had a third point but he didn’t quite remember it and Lupin pushed past it anyway.

“You will be quite safe with me,” Lupin said simply, opening the castle doors and holding one for Harry. Lupin fixed his eyes directly where Harry was and tilted his head to the side. “There’s a cafe I know of, I used to go with your parents when we were in our seventh year.”

All in all, Harry was rather easy to kidnap. Hardly anyone ever talked about his parents though, so he thought it was easily forgivable that he would want to know more about them.

Apparation though… that was sickening and if Harry never experienced that again, he would be too happy.

After dry heaving and holding a wall to stay steady on his feet, Harry finally sucked in enough cool air to begin to look around where Lupin had taken them.

It seemed like a quiet muggle area, as far as Harry could tell. There were no signs of magic, no signs of life at all really.

“Sir? Where are we?” Harry wondered.

“Stockbridge,” Lupin said, brushing a hand down the front of his coat. “You can take your cloak off now, Harry. It was merely a precaution to get you out of the castle.”

That… sounded quite a bit like what a kidnapper would say.

Hermione was going to kill Harry, Harry knew that. It didn’t explain why he went ahead and removed his cloak, tossing it over his shoulder for a lack of anywhere to put it. Harry’s bag was in his trunk which was in Professor Lupin’s pocket.

“There’s a cafe a few blocks away that never closes.” Lupin began walking and Harry followed him. They were in an alley and once they stepped on a sidewalk, there were signs of life here and there.

“And you used to go there with my parents?” Harry asked curiously. If he had allowed himself to be kidnapped, then he might as well get what he went for.

“I did.” Lupin smiled softly, looking a bit wistful and younger than he was. “They were Head Boy and Girl, your parents, they were allowed to leave the grounds on weekends. I, having always had some difficulty with rules, would tag along, as well as a few of our other friends.”

Harry’s stomach lurched at the reminder of one of his dad’s other friends.

“Like Sirius Black, sir?” Harry asked quietly, sticking close to Lupin on the sidewalk.

Lupin scrunched his nose in distaste and nodded shortly. “He was one of them, yes.”

Harry thought about how his other professors had described his dad and Sirius Black when they had been at the Three Broomsticks. If Lupin and Harry’s dad were close, it sounded as if Black had been twice as close to his dad.

“Is Black one of the marauders then?” Harry guessed. Whether that was Wormtail or Padfoot, Harry wasn’t sure, but he suspected Wormtail based on it sounding like a slimy nickname.

“He was.” Lupin sniffed disdainfully and kept his gaze forward, on whatever place their destination was. “I’m afraid he’s tainted quite a few good memories though. Which is rather selfish of me to think, actually.”

Harry didn’t think that was selfish. Wouldn’t Harry be upset if Hermione turned out to be horribly evil and backstabbing? If she set Ron up to be murdered, Harry would hate to have so many good memories with Ron tainted by her presence.

And, Harry further considered, it would be Hermione out of the three of them to turn stark evil. Hermione had purposefully caught Professor Snape on fire once and successfully brewed Polyjuice Potion in a bathroom.

Whoever said all dark wizards came from Slytherin had never met Sirius Black or Hermione Granger.

No, wait… Harry frowned, hardly noticing the direction Lupin guided him toward… it was Hagrid who said that and Hagrid had met Sirius Black and Hermione both.

“Huh,” Harry said under his breath, blinking in surprise. Lupin looked down and raised an eyebrow at him, but Harry only shook his head.

“After you then.” Lupin held open a glass door for what actually was a cafe and Harry brightened at the prospect of someplace warm and at getting some stories about his parents.

The cafe was softly lit, and rather sparsely filled for the hour. Lupin asked for a booth in a corner to the bleary eyed waiter and Harry looked around while they walked toward it.

It didn’t seem all that special of a place, but it was still nice being somewhere that his parents had been. Hogwarts had been their first real connection, the first time Harry existed in a place where his parents had, and now a cafe in Stockbridge.

What a strange night.

Harry objected to wanting anything to eat based on the fact that he didn’t have any money with him. Or, he did, but it was in Lupin’s pocket with all of his other belongings. Professor Lupin, who was seeming less ‘Professor-ish’ with every passing moment’ actually rolled his eyes at Harry when he told him that.

“I kidnapped you, I think I can buy you a meal,” Lupin said drily. He looked up at the waiter and ordered two plates of hot cakes with syrup and two mugs of hot chocolate.

“Coming right up,” the man said, never even blinking when Lupin discussed kidnapping.

Lupin snorted when they were alone, his eyes hinting his own amusement at the situation. Harry cleared his throat though to gain his attention and smiled politely.

“So you knew my parents since you were eleven?” Harry prodded, wanting the exhaustion he’d feel during his classes the next day (surely they’d return to the castle by then??) to at least have been worth it.

Lupin relaxed in his side of the booth with one arm across the top of his seat. His smile loosened up, he seemed rather at ease really.

“I did,” he said. “Your father and I were closer during the term, of course, but your mother and I always got along well in the summers.”

Harry thought that being kidnapped wound up being quite worth it. Professor Lupin knew loads of things about Harry’s parents and it was nice hearing about them.

Lupin and Harry’s dad had planned pranks together, Harry’s dad learned to be an animagus (at only fifteen) so that Professor Lupin wasn’t alone during his monthly transformations. Harry’s mum and Professor Lupin studied together, talked about music and books.

It was more than anyone had ever told Harry about them and he was so caught up in the stories Professor Lupin shared that he hardly cared about the odd circumstances.

“So you knew my grandparents too?” Harry asked, actually swinging his legs beneath the table in excitement. Lupin had said how he spent quite a bit of time in London with Harry’s mum during the summers, though they always had to return for dinner at her house.

“I did.” Professor Lupin, like Harry, had hardly ate anything, though he did drink the hot chocolate down. His demeanor shifted, becoming more solemn. “They were lovely people. I have yet to understand how they produced a muppet such as Petunia.”

Harry shifted, uncomfortable with the turn in the conversation. He began fiddling with his napkin, shredding tiny pieces off it to twist in his fingers. It was what he was afraid of, Professor Lupin bringing up the boggart.

It had been horrible and embarrassing and Harry rather wished they could both forget it ever happened.

“Harry,” Professor Lupin began speaking gently, as if Harry were a spooked cat, “you know I can’t allow you to return to your aunt’s home, right?”

Oh. Harry’s heart lifted some, despite a quiet voice in the back of his head warning him against getting his hopes up.

“I don’t know that you would have much of a choice,” Harry said, slow and careful. He wasn’t trying to insult Professor Lupin, but it wasn’t like Harry hadn’t tried to get out of returning to his relatives home in the summer.

Lupin hummed thoughtfully. “Why?” he asked.

“Professor Dumbledore said it’s the safest place for me,” Harry shrugged, keeping his eyes on the table.

“When did he say that?”

Harry huffed a quiet and joyless laugh, his lips curling up in a bitter smile.

“At the end of my first year, then again at the end of my second,” Harry told him truthfully. Afraid that made him sound childish and whiney, he rushed to add, “It’s fine, really. Ron usually invites me over for part of the summer and I’ll be seventeen in a few years.”

If Harry lived for a few more years. It wasn’t that Harry was wholly negative about his life-span, but between the mad adventures he had at school, the mad man trying to kill him, and how mad Uncle Vernon had been over the summer… well, Harry would be impressed to see seventeen, anyway.

“Bullshit.”

Harry’s head snapped up at the swear coming from Professor Lupin’s mouth. Lupin didn’t look angry, necessarily, but there was a glint in his eyes that certainly wasn’t happy.

“Sorry?” Harry said, rather hating the conversation and wishing it would move on.

“I said,” Professor Lupin leaned closer to Harry across the table, “bullshit, Harry. It isn’t fine and you won’t be returning to a place where you wait out your childhood like a prison sentence.”

Harry knew not to get his hopes up. It was stupid and childish. There was just something so earnest about Professor Lupin though, something genuine about the way he talked to Harry.

“Alright,” Harry said, not knowing what else to say. He broke the horribly intense eye contact to look around the diner, seeing that a few customers had taken other tables. “Er… reckon we should get back to school then?”

“Mmm.” Lupin finally leaned back and quirked a half-smile in Harry’s direction once more. “We could,” he said, drawling his words out slowly. “Or—”

It was ridiculous, but Harry was actually beginning to feel a bit like Lupin had kidnapped him and had no intentions of returning him to school. Which was ridiculous, because Lupin had to work and people would notice if they were just —

“— how would you like to meet my family?”

Harry stared deadpan in Professor Lupin’s eyes as he got the gist that, no, they were not returning to Hogwarts.

“Sir,” Harry started.

Lupin interrupted him immediately.

“Remus.”

“What?”

Lupin nodded, “You should call me Remus, or Moony, if you’d like. When you were a baby, you called me Moo-ey.”

Harry was not going to let sentiment from when he was a baby override common sense. There was no way Harry was going to another location with - with Moony until he had some answers.

“Are you planning on us returning to Hogwarts?” Harry asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

“Truthfully?” Lupin smiled widely with a playful light in his eyes that made Harry think he was missing a joke of some sort. “No.”

Well, that was an answer, Harry supposed…

Lupin was whistling merrily when they left the diner. Harry wasn’t sure what he was meant to do, even if he had his wand he didn’t have Hedwig or the phone numbers of anyone who might be able to get him back to school.

And really, Lupin sort of made them sound like they were family. It wasn’t that Harry was letting a relationship from twelve years ago impact the logical voice in his head (the one that sounded suspiciously like Hermione), it was that Harry was curious about where Lupin was taking him.

It seemed like an awful lot of effort to kidnap Harry just for Harry to make a fuss and struggle to find a way back to school on his own.

Lupin was kind too, even if he was mental. His eyes were warm and he didn’t harp on much about Harry’s boggart, didn’t ask any questions about it. Harry liked Lupin… even if he was clearly insane.

“Don’t hold your breath this time,” Lupin - Moony, whatever - said when they reached the alley they had originally appeared in. It was lighter out, creeping up on sunrise nearly.

“Inhale and as soon as you feel the jerk in your stomach,” Lupin pointed at his own stomach, just at the navel, “begin breathing out as slowly as you can.”

“Will you tell me where we’re going this time?” Harry asked, more irritated about another round of apparation than he was the whole kidnapping scheme.

“Yes.” Lupin offered Harry his hand, which Harry took with only a mild amount of wariness. “Small Heath, Birmingham.”

“Ah,” Harry said, pretending as if he knew where that was. Lupin’s grin seemed to see right through Harry’s pretense.

“Just as you suspected,” Lupin said teasingly. “If you’re ready then, Harry.”

Ready? No.

Curious? … yes.

Perhaps it wasn’t all the mad men in his life that were going to get Harry killed, it seemed likely that his own curiosity would do it just as well.