Sick Again
December 11
"Holly, eleven inches, phoenix core."
"Mate, you've got any idea how expensive a phoenix feather will cost?"
"Money is no issue," Remus said. He pulled ten galleons from his pocket and slid it across the weathered work table. "A down payment," he explained. "I'll more than double that if you're able to have it finished within a week."
"Thirty galleons and I'll have it for ya in three days."
Remus nodded without hesitating, the faster the better. And money was no issue, not since the job he did for the Sabinis. It wasn't altogether a huge job, but it would open the door for them to expand their business overseas.
The deal was contingent on Remus being welcomed back in Chicago, but the wand would hopefully open that door as well.
It had been a mistake to leave, Remus knew it even before Nymphadora sent him her tidy little guilt patronus.
The morning after his transformation, Remus began to feel trepidation at the mess he left Harry in. It was two weeks after Remus swore on James's memory to be the greatest parent he could be, Remus left.
And Remus reminded himself of the many situations Harry had found himself in, the one Remus caused and the many he didn't prevent. Remus was no great parent, he was a terrible example for a boy and had no proper idea on what to do with a teenager - particularly one riddled with depression and impulsivity and a child on the way.
But who else would do it?
Harry was fifteen, nowhere near a man and with a man's expectations being born come summer. Remus shouldn't have left him, but he wasn't sure how to return. Would Harry accept him back? Would the trust and relationship they had built be irreparably damaged? Would Remus cause more hardship on Harry by returning?
It was the unknown that had Remus stalling in London, staying with Mick and distracting himself with odd jobs. Once Harry's wand was finished then Remus would make a decision, it seemed as if he had three days to do so.
Mick was absent from the headquarters where Remus had set up as a temporary living space. The quiet of headquarters made Remus's chest ache for the chaos of Chicago; the endless teenagers with their constant drama, the consistent availability of someone to share a joint or drink with, even the flirtatious smiles of a too-innocent police officer.
There was only silence and regret, the companions that Remus had lived with for years… he had never expected them to return.
Remus laid on the bed he had claimed for himself and stared at the ceiling, his mind wandering again to Harry.
There were good people in Chicago - Nymphadora, Fiona, Dudley, Hermione, Kevin. They would be taking care of Harry, Remus had to believe so.
As long as Harry was allowing them to, they would be taking care of him.
"Let them," Remus whispered to the ceiling, thinking of Harry's defiance and his depression, his desperation to connect and the constant abandonments he faced.
Remus should have stayed. Perhaps if he returned with a wand for Harry, he would be accepted.
And perhaps if he showed up with a worthwhile excuse… he may even be forgiven.
Remus rolled off the bed abruptly, suddenly filled with purpose. Harry had a tendency toward compassion and forgiveness, Remus had seen it many times before. Even if Sirius was no longer a welcome guest at Harry's home, Remus knew that Harry worried about him.
It would also balm a small festering wound inside of Remus to know that Sirius was alive, perhaps even well. Alive was the goal though, Remus could do that. Tracking wizards was no menial task, it could have taken him some time to do. It could have been a job that he didn't want Harry to know of, something he would have to do ten times as quickly as he should if he wanted to use it as his excuse.
Remus went to the map on the wall, the one of England and he scanned it slowly, looking for any name that might have jumped out at him. "Sirius… oh, Sirius… wherefore art thou, Sirius?" he murmured to himself, his eyes taking in every city and county, every possibility.
London would be simplest, but Remus was sure he wasn't there. Sirius had resented being locked away in his home, if he had his freedom - he had no reason to stay in London.
Their friends were mostly dead, only a few sparse classmates were left. There were none that Remus believed Sirius would turn to for housing, Sirius would be off on his own surely.
But where?
Remus tapped his chin and wondered if Sirius was even in the United Kingdom. Sirius had always wanted to travel… he could be anywhere in the world.
Which meant that what Remus needed was a potion to track him and, most unfortunately, Remus only knew one brewer with the precise expertise to brew such a difficult potion.
Remus spent the rest of that evening penning a letter to Severus, one that left no room for refusal. Once he had that worked out, Remus was able to lay in bed again and ruminate over every mistake he made, every mistake that had led to his worst one yet.
It was frigid out the next morning, not that the weather affected Remus as much as it did the others who hustled through London. Remus could have been in a tank top and been comfortable, though he was long past used to hiding his condition and blending in with normal members of society.
By the time that Remus reached the Leaky Cauldron, the grey skies had opened up and flurries of snow fell down to the ground. Remus wondered if Chicago had already seen snow or not, he wagered that they had. It was a cold city, north enough in the States to be one of the first states to receive freezing temperatures.
Remus was a few minutes early to the meeting and he ordered himself a warm rum cider, something to nurse while he waited for Severus. It was strange how off it tasted, how easily Remus had acclimated to the cold drinks that Americans favored for their liquor.
Everything was going to haunt Remus until he returned to Chicago, even the drinks were causing their own unique kind of misery.
And joining the queue to haunt Remus, Severus Snape stepped up to sit on the stool beside Remus.
"I will give you sixty seconds more of my time," Severus sneered, deigning to not even look at Remus. "Then I will leave."
"You owe me," Remus reminded him lowly, snarling internally as much as Severus did externally. "I know that you messed with Nymphadora's potion; your idea of a prank, I'm sure."
"That would be a bold claim," Severus retorted. "One that could never be proven, not unlike some of your pranks."
Remus enjoyed a brief daydream of grabbing Severus by the throat and throwing him through the glass wall of liquor bottles that decorated the back wall of the pub. It was a wonderful fantasy, one that ended with Remus slowly ripping the head off of Severus's body as he should have twenty years ago.
Ah, the folly of youth…
"Albus may have told you that I am no longer a member of the Order," Remus said slowly, calmly. He paused to sip his drink, allowing Severus a moment of peace before he continued. "Which means of course that I have no qualms about visiting you the next full moon, Severus. You hurt someone I care quite a bit about; it's your choice."
Because if Severus didn't feel that he owed Remus anything, then Remus would sleep easy after threatening him. Would Remus truly go visit Severus on the next full moon? It was doubtful, but Severus was terrified of werewolves and Remus would capitalize on that.
Remus could hear Severus's teeth grinding in the back of his mouth, an imperceptible movement of complete aggravation. It was good for Severus to be aggravated, Nymphadora's mother may never speak to her again and it was entirely his fault.
"What precisely do you want from me?" Severus demanded, his mouth barely moving with his reluctance to ask.
"Ah, I'm glad you asked." Remus pulled the recipe for the potion he found from his pocket and slid it to Severus. "You can mail it to me tonight, unaltered, if it's all the same to you. I will have to come hold a conversation with you about it if it doesn't work. I can't guarantee that it will be this civil of a conversation."
Severus placed a finger on the edge of the parchment and sneered down at it. "Ah, searching for your wayward Black?" he asked bitingly. "Perhaps you have not considered that he does not wish to see you?"
Remus considered that and then disregarded it. Remus wasn't looking for Sirius so they could talk, he wanted to see with his eyes that he was well and then use it as an excuse to Harry for why he had been gone so long.
"I'll expect your owl in the morning," Remus said. He finished his drink and left a galleon on the counter, smirking at Severus once more before leaving. "Order yourself a drink, lighten up, Severus."
Remus was entirely sure that Severus would send him the potion, unaltered. If nothing else, Severus's fear of werewolves was one that he would never shake.
Sirius himself had made sure of that.
Remus was in no rush to return to headquarters after his meeting with Severus. If he returned to an empty building again, he would lay in bed and spiral in self-recriminations.
London was a good place to spend time at, especially with Christmas approaching. The shops were decorated, shoppers were bustling about to finish their lists. There was a general air of merriment in the city and Remus tried to focus only on that.
Not on the boy he abandoned, not on the friends he left behind in Chicago.
To spite Remus's determination to avoid thoughts of Harry, he quite literally ran head first into a very pregnant woman leaving a shop. Remus apologized profusely and it was then that he noticed the woman was leaving a baby shop.
In the window of the store was a nursery setup, complete with a crib, rocking chair, and a bookshelf decorated with toys and books for very young children. Remus could just see it then, Harry's future. Harry would sit in a rocker with his child on his lap, reading them nursery books or perhaps inventing his own stories. When they fell asleep, Harry would gently put them in their crib and kiss them goodnight.
It was so clear then what an excellent father Harry would be. Just like his father, Harry would be loving and devoted, more than a bit immature, and the greatest father that a child could ask for.
Remus's feet moved him without thought, taking him inside the shop. All around there were parents and couples cooing and sorting through clothes and accessories, picking things for their children. Remus looked around at the different sections, wondering what all Harry would need, what he might have already purchased in Remus's absence.
Toward the back of the store were car seats, huge contraptions that seemed as if they would weigh ten times as much as the baby they were made for. Remus paused to look at one, to read the safety measures it was built for, when he saw a man.
It was a young man, perhaps eighteen, who had a very small baby strapped to his chest. The baby was sleeping soundly while the man counted bills in his hand, his eyes shifting toward a car seat-stroller contraption every few seconds. There was no real resemblance to Harry, the young man had curly blonde hair and very blue eyes, he was much taller than Harry with a scruffy beard on his chin.
But there he stood, a young father caring for a baby on his own, counting out his money to see if he had enough for a stroller. When he came up short and turned away, still smiling down at his child, Remus impulsively grabbed two of the stroller setups.
They were pricey, but well worth it when Remus caught up to the father on the sidewalk and presented him with one.
"What?" The young man looked at the stroller then at Remus with shocked eyes. "You - I don't even know you!" he cried.
"You… remind me of someone," Remus admitted. He cleared his throat, pushed down the bitter emotions welling up. "My son, he's - well, he's going to be a father soon too."
And if Harry were ever in a shop with his child, counting out money to purchase something he needed to make his life easier, Remus had to hope that someone would help him. Perhaps not with the funds, Harry's finances were set up to keep him from going broke for quite some time, but at least with caring for the child itself.
Remus had to hope that there would be people who cared; cared more than he had, cared in the way that Nymphadora did with her whole heart.
The young man was nearly in tears thanking Remus for the gift, Remus didn't want or need his thanks. He didn't do it for the one young man, but for the one that he left behind in Chicago.
*****
"Okay, okay."
Harry stood in the basement with Dudley and Hermione and looked around at the space. It wasn't awful, really, but it was damp and dirty.
It was huge though, big enough that Harry sort of thought it could have more than one bedroom if he was careful with it. Hermione had a ‘floor layout', but seeing the space with his own eyes was giving Harry more ideas.
"What if we started with cleaning it out, maybe making those windows a little bigger?" Harry pointed at the windows that were at the top of the walls, the ones that were covered with white snow and blocking the sight of the yard.
Hermione twirled her wand in hand, not showing off, probably thinking. It still felt like showing off when it made Harry's fingers itch for the warmth that his wand used to bring him. They had to send Mandy over to the Gallagher house for a little bit so Hermione could speed things up, but it would be worth it if Harry's new idea panned out.
There were too many temporary people upstairs - Sirius then Remus. Hermione had a room, Mandy had a room. Remus left, Hermione was going to her parents new home in a week, Mandy would leave once the baby was born. Dudley was going to take Hermione's room, make himself comfortable for as long as he wanted to stay.
Then he'd leave too and Harry didn't need three bedrooms for himself and the baby, Harry didn't want to see his kid in a room that held temporary guests before.
The basement was going to be the fresh start Harry needed, he just knew it.
Hermione started on the cleaning, fast-tracking what would have taken Harry days to do by hand. Harry flipped her notebook to a new page and started sketching out a rough idea of what he was picturing.
"If we put a wall there, then a bathroom over here… this could be like a little two bedroom set up," Harry explained to Dudley. "I can sleep over here, put the baby here. The stairs lead right up to the kitchen, what do you think?"
"I think it's a basement, Harry," Dudley said. "Why would you want to live in a basement?"
"Nostalgia," Harry said dryly. He didn't want to talk about it with Dudley, he wouldn't get it. Dudley was - he was great, he wouldn't get why each bedroom upstairs made Harry a special kind of miserable to see.
"Move the wall over here." Dudley drew a line on the paper, making the bedroom Harry planned to take bigger. "Babies are tiny, aren't they? They won't need a lot of space yet and you don't wanna be cramped."
"Do you think a crib and dresser and wardrobe and toy box will fit there though?" Harry asked, trying to picture it. "I wanted to add a rocking chair too, maybe a high chair?"
"No, look, let me see that." Dudley took the paper from Harry and flipped it over to start drawing from scratch. Dudley did a funny thing when he was focusing, he'd stick his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, reminding Harry some of Aunt Marge's bulldogs.
"You know when you stick your tongue out like that, you remind me of Aunt Marge's bulldogs," Harry grinned. "Fuck. Ouch," he whined after Dudley aimed a punch to his arm, maybe half of his power behind it. Even at half strength, Dudley was strong.
"Take it back or it's your nads next," Dudley warned him. "And I'd like my niece to have a sister one day."
"Fine, you don't look like Ripper with your tongue out," Harry lied. "You look like your dad."
Dudley pulled his fist back again and Harry ran off before he could hit him, very maturely and wisely hiding beside Hermione.
"You're energetic today," Hermione said, unfairly suspicious. "Are you high?"
"No," Harry said truthfully. Harry wasn't high, he wasn't drunk. Harry was excited though, excited to see the basement changed and excited about the baby.
"Hmm." Hermione didn't seem like she believed him, but Harry distracted her with talk about the basement.
"This looks better already," Harry said appreciatively. The walls were bloody plain once they were cleaned, just grey cement, but there was already loads more light in the basement just from the enlargements of the windows.
"I think it's needs insulated, which I don't know how to do," Hermione said. It must have taken a lot for her to admit that, those were Hermione's least favorite words to use. "It might cost more than it's worth to have it done, Harry, honestly, I don't know why you don't just rearrange bedrooms upstairs."
"This will be better, then I'll hear it when the baby cries," Harry said - one of many reasons why he wanted it done, needed it done. "I bet Lip knows how to do the insulation, he said he set up his basement."
Hermione made ‘a face' when Harry mentioned Lip, but they were fine. They fought, they got drunk, they made up. If Harry ignored his painful crush and Lip punching him after Harry blew him, if Harry ignored that Lip bought Harry's baby, then they could be friends again.
"Great," Hermione said sarcastically. "More Lip Gallagher."
"You're leaving soon anyway," Harry said, the words coming out more bitterly than he meant. "You won't even notice."
"Harry…" Hermione dropped her wand and tried to look at Harry pityingly, Harry didn't want her pity though. Harry wanted everyone to stop moving in and out, in and out. Harry wanted the baby to be born so there would be at least one person in the house who wasn't going to leave.
"I'm going to grab a smoke," Harry said quickly. He didn't want to have some big bloody talk with Hermione and ruin his mood. "Big D, you coming?"
"In a minute…" Dudley sat on the floor by the stairs and still sketched on his page, drawing out a floor plan much more detailed than Harry's hasty one had been. Hermione joined him and looked over his shoulder, nodding along to something Dudley wrote.
Harry shrugged them off and took the stairs two at a time, skipping over the one that was broken and needed replaced. Once Hermione left, Harry could smoke inside again. It was another thing that wasn't worth fighting over though, not when there were only six more days of Hermione living there.
It was freezing outside, Harry grabbed Sirius's jacket off the front hook to pull on before he went on the porch. Tonks put a mild warming charm on the porch, but it couldn't be too strong or people would be suspicious. It was still cold and Harry lit a cigarette quickly, stomping his feet to stay warm.
"You could jump over here and smoke."
Harry looked over to the Gallagher house and saw Ian and Mickey sitting on the porch with a fire in front of them, contained by a big metal cauldron looking thing.
"Sure," Harry said. It would be warmer with the fire there. Harry hopped the fences and then parked himself as close to the fire as he could. "Thanks," he told them. "Where's Mandy?"
"Hiding inside from the cold and the cigarettes," Ian laughed. "Man, she's gotten bitchy since getting knocked up. Is that why you kicked her out?"
"She's always been bitchy," Mickey muttered.
"I didn't kick her out, I didn't want her to inhale any dirt fumes or mold or something from the basement," Harry said. It was a decent lie, it made sense at least. "Hey, how did you guys insulate your basement? Hermione said mine needs it."
"You'd have to ask Lip," Ian shrugged. "Fi gave him fifty bucks last year and he had it done in a week."
"Great," Harry said. "I need mine done."
"And you want fuckin' Lip to help?" Mickey scoff-snorted at Harry and ashed his cigarette in the fire. "‘Course you would, queer."
"Dude." Ian shoved Mickey's shoulder hard. "You are a queer."
"No, I'm fuckin' gay," Mickey said - loud and proud, not the way that he snuck around with Harry and threatened him to never tell a soul. "It's gay to like dick. The shit Harry does? That's queer."
"Yeah?" Harry grinned slowly and backed toward the door, sure he was going to need to run again if he didn't want punched. "Your sister didn't think I was queer when I knocked her up."
Ian burst out in laughter and Mickey did try to lunge for Harry, but Harry was faster as he slipped inside and bolted the door behind him.
"Wotcher, Harry!"
Harry hadn't been paying attention to anyone else when he let himself in the house, but there was Tonks on the sofa, sitting with Fiona and Mandy.
"Oh, hello," Harry said. He quickly unlocked the door and grinned sheepishly at Fiona. "Sorry, I was saving my face."
"It is a nice face," Mandy said. "A little pale though."
"You have a nice face," Harry said automatically, it was true. He leaned to the side and looked in the kitchen, looking for Lip. "Is Lip here? I wanted to see if he'd help me with a project."
"I think he's in his room," Fiona said. "He's either helping Carl with his science homework or building a meth lab, I never know which."
In Harry's opinion, building a meth lab would be a science project. And if Carl could build one of those at only ten years old then he deserved a good grade for it.
Maybe not in the house where Harry's pregnant best friend and attached-baby visited often though.
Harry thanked Fiona and then jogged up the stairs, rather comfortable in the Gallagher house. Harry had spent enough time there and it was set up identically to Harry's house, it would be difficult to get lost.
Harry knocked lightly on the door and let himself in when Lip said he could. There wasn't a meth lab being built, probably, but there were a lot of plastic soda bottles and tape and supplies scattered around.
"We're making a tornado," Carl said, grinning up at Harry from where he was stretched on the floor by Lip. "It's going to kick ass!"
"It's a hurricane in a bottle," Lip said, clearly distracted by the setup. "And it's not going to kick ass if you don't learn the fucking instructions for it so you get a passing grade. You flunk this and it's back to fourth grade next year, Carl."
"I hate fourth grade," Carl whined. "I'm too old for recess and too young to have a locker."
"Then you definitely don't want to repeat it," Harry said. He sat down with them, assuming Hermione would check there if she needed him. "How does the hurricane work?"
"It's mostly food coloring and gravity," Lip said. "This one's going to be badass though, Carl has to get an A."
"Anything I can do to help?" Harry offered.
"Dude." Lip looked up at Harry for a second with one eyebrow cocked. "Don't touch anything. No offense, but England's education system sucks."
Harry was pretty sure Lip just called him a moron, but he felt like a moron in most muggle classes. It was rude, not unfair. Although Harry didn't have to stay and feel stupid either.
"Fine," Harry shrugged. "I should get back home actually, before Hermione comes looking for me. I just wanted to ask if you knew how to do insulation? I'm setting up the basement and need it done so it keeps heat or whatever bloody nonsense it's needed for."
"Yeah, sure," Lip murmured, still distracted. Instead of a cigarette, he had a pencil between his teeth. That distracted Harry for a second, watching Lip chew on it. Lip looked up, met Harry's eyes, and Harry quickly jumped to his feet.
"Alright, so whenever you have time would be great," Harry said. "Good luck, Carl. If you've ever got any really easy homework, I can help too."
It had to be really easy though.
Harry bounced back down the stairs and checked that Mickey wasn't waiting for revenge in the little coat room between the living room and front door.
"God, you're a pussy," Mandy said, rolling her eyes at Harry. "How did I let someone who was such a pussy knock me up?"
"Oi, I am not!" Harry said, completely offended. "Remember when I was shot? I didn't even cry, Mandy."
"Did you cry when you tried to cut off your arm?" Fiona asked.
Harry couldn't remember but none of them could prove he was lying. "Nope."
"Harry's no coward," Tonks said, kind of her really since she didn't actually no Harry all that well. "A bit of an idiot, but not a coward."
"See?" Harry said brightly. "The bloke who knocked you up isn't a pussy, only an idiot."
"That's not better," Mandy sighed. "You can see how that's not better, right?"
Honestly? No. But Harry wanted to get back to his house and didn't want to go outside if Mickey was going to hit him.
"We're done cleaning the basement," Harry told Mandy. "You want to come back over? I'll make dinner."
"Fuck yes," Mandy said, popping right up. Mandy swore that she had already began gaining weight, but her shirt was cropped with long sleeves and Harry thought her body was still flat and great.
"Harry, do you want to come back over for dinner?" Tonks asked, stopping Harry and Mandy in the doorway. "You're welcome to bring Dudley too."
"I'll see," Harry lied, annoyed by the offer again. Tonks had invited Harry over almost every day, Harry said no almost every day. Harry wasn't a charity case who needed babysat by Tonks - he was babysat plenty by Hermione.
It was great that Tonks and Fiona were happy together, but all Tonks was to Harry was a painful reminder that Remus was gone. Tonks acted like she wanted to be mates, Harry just wasn't interested.
Everyone Harry liked left, and he'd hate to drive Tonks away and break Fiona's heart.
Mickey and Ian were gone when Harry and Mandy went outside so Harry took Mandy's hand and kept it warm in his.
"Have they called about the baby yet?" Mandy asked. "Fiona said she has some of Liam's old baby clothes for you if it's a boy."
"Ethel does too," Harry said. "They haven't called yet though, I've been staying up all night, checking for a call."
"They won't call you at like fucking midnight," Mandy laughed. "Is that why you've been so weird today? Because you aren't sleeping?"
Since Harry couldn't say it was because he needed Hermione to use magic without Mandy seeing it, he agreed. Mandy called Harry an idiot again and Harry agreed again.
"I'll go grab Hermione," Harry said, leaving Mandy in the living room. "The stairs are broken, I don't want you to get hurt."
"What a gentleman," Mandy said, rolling her eyes. "Hey, will you rub my back when you get back? It's fucking killing me."
"I think a back rub is what got us in this position," Harry winked. Mandy laughed and it made Harry laugh too - he was so bloody happy that things between them were feeling more like it used to. More than anything, Harry had missed his friend.
"Hermione? Dudley?" Harry called down in the basement on his way down. "Mandy and I are back," he added pointedly. There was a thud in the basement, it sounded like someone's fist hitting someone else.
Since Harry was pretty sure that Dudley wouldn't hit Hermione, he hurried down the stairs and nearly tripped on the broken one to keep Hermione from beating Dudley up. Sure, Dudley was bigger and stronger, but Hermione was terrifying. It wouldn't have been an even fight.
Harry jumped from the second to last step in a rush to help his cousin and nearly missed Hermione standing right by the stairs until she threw her arm out to stop him. Harry shook his head, unsure what it was he was looking at at first.
Dudley had someone on the ground, someone he was beating the hell out of. All Harry could see at first was blood, blood pouring from their mouth and their nose… then he saw the hair.
The long, black, hair.
"Sirius?" Harry's stomach lurched and his heart felt like it grew two sizes at once. It was Sirius, Harry was sure of it. How he got there, Harry didn't know, but it was Sirius on the ground being pummeled by Dudley.
"Hey, Dudley!" Harry pushed past Hermione's arm and shoved Dudley's shoulder, trying to snap him out of whatever had him turning Sirius's face into a lump of blood. "Stop! You're killing him!"
Dudley pulled his fist back and there was a crack of magic that filled the room, a crack that Harry thought had been Hermione getting involved at first.
"What is going on here?!"
Harry turned slowly, telling himself that he was imaging who the owner of the voice was.
But just behind Harry, looking like he did when he left nearly a month ago, stood Remus Lupin.