Freedom is fleeting || Prisoner of Azkaban || Ch 9
And the next day, it was if nothing had happened. Like Sirius Black had never entered the Castle.
3 Days later Harry was ecstatic to have defence against the dark arts with professor lupin. The leaves had fallen of their trees and winter was quickly approaching. Harry sat down next to Neville as he pulled out his defence book and smiled at his friend, Ron would just have to sit next to Hermione today. He turned to the bookmark he’d kept so he wouldn’t forget what they we’re learning when the door slammed open in a very not-my-professor fashion. Harry turned to face the sound as all hopes for this day dropped. Snape. While Harry at least apricated the thought that Snape wanted to warn him, it definitely doesn’t make up for the other 2 years of torment from him. Professor Snape strutted down the class room like it was his personal cat walk, the long dark robe flowing behind him like a sentient dementor. He stoop up tall at the front of the class, overflowing with audacity and confidence.
“Turn to page 394.”
Hold on, what? No my book mark is at on 300, surely that can’t be right? Harry turns the pages anyway and looks at the title. Werewolves.
“Uhm, excuse me sir?” Polite, be polite, he at least considered warning you! That’s more than most people. “Where is professor Lupin?”
“That’s not really your concern, is it, Potter?” He looked down at the boy, not quite sympathetic, not quite disgusted either. “Suffice it to say your professor finds himself incapable of teaching, at the present time.” What?
“Werewolves?” Ron speaks out of turn, despite his valid question.
“But sir, we just leaned about red caps and hinkypunks. We’re not meant to start that for weeks?” Hermione also speaks out of turn. Was she this whole time?
“Quite.”
The class goes on as usual, despite the unusual circumstances. Hermione, while she’s always know a lot about everything, seemed to be able to go into particular detail about the werewolves.
“Werewolves can only respond to the call of their own kind.”
While she was being reprimanded a certain blond seemed to find this class particularly disinteresting as he blew a paper swan that fluttered its was down in front of Harry. Neville didn’t get a chance to notice as snape started yelling at the class again.
“On my desk by Monday morning, two rolls of parchment on the werewolf, with emphasis on recognising it.”
“But sir it’s quidditch tomorrow!” He whined at the professor.
“Then I suggest you take extra care, Mr. Potter.” His voice low and intentions set. Why did Harry need to know how to recognise a werewolf? Why did it feel like Snape was worried about them? “Loss of limb will not excuse you.” Never mind.
Harry shifted in his seat as the professor proceeded with the lecture on were wolfs, a crumple in his pocket reminded him of the note that got sent his way by a certain Slytherin. What Harry expected to be some vague threat about the quidditch match tomorrow was an animation on paper drawn by Malfoy of Harry not dying in the match but stood in the background while the Slytherin team all cheered like they’d won. It’s better than a threat? Harry supposes.
-.-.-
As the day came to an end, Harry found himself in the Library. He wasn’t hungry and wanted to get this assignment done so Snape wouldn’t be riding him about it the day after the match. The library was pretty much empty and anyone who was in there was using a notice-me-not charm.
“Hey Harry!” His tone cheerful but quite, as to not disturb the others that may or may not be there. As he sat down however, the greeting changed. “Heir Potter, it’s a pleasure.”
Startled but not unfamiliar as this is how Neville always starts their Heir of talks. “Heir Longbottom, The pleasure’s all mine. How can I help?” He smiled softly before realising anyone could be around. “Wait Nev, is it okay to speak of this here? I really don’t want anyone knowing. Not yet.”
Neville looked around, trying to read for anyone through their notice-me-not charms but couldn’t feel anything, “Well unless Malfoy or Dumbledore are here and blocking me with everything they have, but I seriously doubt they’d be here and not in the great hall right now!” He laughed as he spoke but something confused Harry.
“Dumbledore I understand, why Malfoy?”
“Well considering Snape is the best at occlumency apart from Dumbledore and is Heir Malfoys godfather, all the Heirs are a little bit terrified on how good Malfoy himself is. Though I guess Snape could be here too but again, it’s dinner time…”
Huh. That makes sense, I guess.
So with that their lesson started. Heir talk and the responsibilities, the Heirs that Neville knows are definitely taking over, the ones dumbledore has by proxy – It was insane and Harry could barely keep up.
A few hours later they noticed the library would be shutting soon and Harry would need ample rest for the quidditch match tomorrow, so they called it a day.
While deep down in the dungeons.
“Swear to me Lupin!” They’d been arguing for an hour now, Remus’ face was red, close to tears while Severus was dishevelled but pale. The idea that Remus may have helped a serial killer who murdered his once best friend, their once best friend. The thought that he would help Sirius Black come into the castle and murder the 13-year-old boy sickens him, dirties the memories he has of the man.
“Severus, I’m telling you – I would never help him. Not after what he did to Lily and James but why would I help anyone kill Harry?!” Remus was enraged, the idea that Severus truly believes that he would help someone hurt Harry. The baby he helped raise before the war. The baby that would attempt to call him Uncle Remus even if he couldn’t properly speak yet. “You really believe that I could do that?” The hurt shone in his eyes, tears filling the brim.
“I don’t want to believe it. But you’re hiding something, Lupin you have to know how he escaped, how he broke into the castle.” Severus was trying to keep his voice steady – this was the furthest they’ve gotten despite talking for that hour.
“I’m not hiding anything! You can trust me Severus. I would never let anyone hurt my cub.”
Severus hold his gaze a moment too long, he doesn’t trust him though he does trust genetics. He knows how much a werewolves family means to them, and Harry is part of Remus’s family whether he knows it or not. But that is exact reason why he can’t say for certain that Remus wouldn’t help Sirius Black.
“It’s late, and I have work to do.” He finally sits down, keeping his posture tall, “You can see yourself out.” It wasn’t a question. They were done here. he was done having this conversation and not getting anywhere.
Remus looks at him, misery flooded his senses, he hated this part. The end of the argument when they’d have to agree to disagree over something so serious.
“Yes, I can.” When he spoke, it sounded like his voice was made of gravel. His clear tone was undercut with a choking heaviness that forced him to pause several times. His watery eyes closed and a single tear, as clear as water flowed down his cheek as he left and closed the door behind himself.
Behind the door was the shadow of trust. He wasn’t mad about the incident, not anymore. He’s mad because he knows he can’t trust him, not when he has a habit of withholding such important truths. A lie of omission is still a lie. A truth Severus has to often remind himself of.
-.-.-
“Harry! Where have you been mate? We missed you all of dinner.” It was Ron, appearing like he hadn’t been a halfwit to Harry this whole school year.
Only now is was Harry’s turn to lie, where had Harry been this last hour or so?
“Hey Ron, Sorry I just wasn’t hungry so I went out for a walk, nothing to worry about.” With a lopsided grin plastered on his face, he lied effortlessly to the red-head across from him in the dorm.
Ron smiled and nodded in response, “So quidditch tomorrow! You excited Harry?” before Harry could even think of replying, Scabbers suddenly escaped from Ron's grasp. “Scabbers!” he exclaimed, and quickly ran after the rat in pursuit. Meanwhile, Harry was going about his usual night routine.
laying down in his four poster, the curtains closed, the final thought on his mind that the sooner that Rat dies the better off everyone will be.