FIC: The Cultivation of Lilacs
I'm just trying to clean a few things up, and I realized I've never cross-posted my reversathon fics to this journal. So, yes! This is the first one.
Title: The Cultivation of Lilacs
Author: Regina Twonkle (97); regina_twonkle (krabapple)
Pairing/Character: Harry Potter, Remus Lupin; very slight pre-Harry/Neville; past-Remus/Sirius
Recipient: Ambrose Womble (55) (penknife)
Rating: PG
Warnings: None. The fic is mostly gen. Post-War, so some minor character death is mentioned. Recipient's request is stated at the end of the fic. Approx. 4,150 words. Thank you to my wonderful and talented beta for this, thistlerose.
Summary: After the war, Harry starts a career as a professor at Hogwarts. When Remus returns to the castle as well, Harry learns that he doesn't know everything he should about Remus' past.
It only seemed fitting that the first Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to last more than a year since Voldemort cursed the position was Harry Potter. He had first come to Hogwarts out of respect for McGonagall and in silent honor of Dumbledore; Hogwarts was opening for its first year after the war when Harry returned at twenty-one, a full decade after he had first set eyes on the glowing, candle-lit castle.
The castle itself had been thrown asunder during the war, parts of it crumbling from attack, or moldy with disuse. Slowly, under McGonagall's watchful eye and Ron's steady and caring hands (Ron was hired as the new caretaker after Hagrid's death; he had started the same year as Harry, along with Hermione, the new librarian), Hogwarts was showing signs of life once again, both on the outside and the inside. The job Harry had thought from his adventures as a student would only last a year was now approaching an actual tenure.
This year, Harry's fourth, brought more staff and more students to Hogwarts than the school had seen since the end of the war. Hogwarts had been closed for three years prior to Harry's return, and for the three years after it had been re-opened, there had been only a small number of students and an even smaller number of staff, with professors often pulling double or even triple duty in the subjects they taught. Harry himself had taught both DADA and Muggle Studies, and he had even had a short and memorable bout as the Herbology professor before his stint ended in his own poisoning and a five day stay in the infirmary, after which McGonagall herself had assumed the role.
But, oh, this year, Harry felt a spring in his step and a soft buzzing of excitement in his ears as September 1st approached. Gryffindor Tower had been completely repaired, and was now ready to house a full contingent of students. Neville had been hired as the Herbology professor, bringing him back to England for the first time since the war was over; he had been in Africa researching indigenous magical plants, and mourning his gran, Dean, Luna, and other loved ones, grieving along with everyone else. Harry would receive an occasional owl or postcard, often with one of Neville's sample plants attached. Though he would never say so, Harry had kept all of the post, including the samples, and had even potted the wizarding lilacs Neville had sent him from South Africa, which bloomed quite magnificently year round.
Best of all, Remus Lupin was also returning to Hogwarts. Not as the DADA professor, of course, but as Transfigurations professor, a post McGonagall had been reluctant to fill with anyone aside from herself. However, the consideration that the growth of the school would keep her too busy as Headmistress for her to teach was a wonderful turn of events, and Harry thought she could not have chosen a better replacement. Remus had been reluctant to accept the position, Harry knew, though the Ministry, in light of Remus' significant contribution to the war effort, had raised most of the limitations on werewolves, and public opinion had started to sway more in favor of people like Remus. There was a long way to go, but society's treatment of werewolves seemed on the mend.
However, in Harry's opinion, Remus himself did not seem on the mend. He had grown increasingly quiet and isolated since Harry was fifteen, and the death of Sirius; he and Harry kept in touch sporadically, often around Christmas and birthdays, or the occasional lunch in Diagon Alley. After Remus' relationship with Tonks had ended some years ago, Remus had more or less gone to live as a Muggle, keeping a small flat in a less-than-modest area of London and working in a bookshop, where his hours could be kept flexible.
But this year, Remus was once again returning to Hogwarts, and with the arrival of both Neville and Remus, and the constant presence of Ron and Hermione, Harry finally believed that his small and make-shift family, such as it was, would finally become whole.
*
"I haven't had a chance to say it before, but I like the new specs, Harry," Neville noted as Harry popped into the staffroom for a much needed cup of tea after a disastrous fourth period. Not even a week into the year, and his new first years had managed to start a fire, explode bits of quills, and curse each other purple. Today he'd sent one to the infirmary with a potato growing out of his ear.
"Thanks, Neville," Harry said, pouring a cup and drinking it straight down before pausing to refill the cup once more. Without a word, Neville handed Harry the milk pitcher and Harry, sustained enough by the first cup to regulate a slower pace, added milk to his tea and then stirred it in with a bit of wandless magic.
"The black suits you, as well as the more rectangular shape," Neville continued.
Harry smiled a bit lopsidedly. "I needed a bit of a change. It's surprising how much new specs can make you unrecognizable to the untrained eye. Besides, wire rim doesn't stand up very well to either dark spells or Quidditch."
At that Remus, who was quietly reading a book by the window, looked up. His gaze caught Harry's and he smiled a just a little. "Can't tell you how many pairs James went through while we were in school. Broke them even beyond what reparo could fix. Drove his mum insane."
Harry returned the smile and took a chair, while Neville sat down near the tea table.
"You still play Quidditch, Harry?" Neville asked.
Harry shrugged. "Pick up games with Ron and the other staff sometimes. Ron oversees Quidditch too, you know, along with his other duties."
"And I'm sure he's not the least bit biased for Gryffindor, either," Neville laughed.
"Of course not. Though I'd never seen him cry until Slytherin won the Cup last year," Harry said. Neville laughed again.
"You should join us, Neville," Harry went on. "I think we're going to play a game tonight, since the weather is still good. I'm pretty sure Jane, the new Muggle Studies professor is going to play, too."
Neville shook his head. "Sorry. Still not my best on a broom. Sounds like fun to come and watch, though."
"Brilliant. We're going to meet after dinner."
Neville nodded, then, to Harry's surprise, turned to Remus. "Why don't you go down and play, Remus?" Harry wasn't sure which stunned him more, Neville's easy use of Remus' given name or the fact that Neville was asking Remus about Quidditch.
At that, Remus shook his head. "Bit too old, I'm afraid."
"Nonsense!" Neville countered. "It's just a pick-up game."
"Too out of practice, then," Remus answered. "But I appreciate the thought, Neville. And Harry," Remus added.
"Well, if I won't play myself, it hardly seems fair to coerce you into it," Neville admitted.
"Once again, Neville, your sense of fair play is your strength," Remus said, standing while he and Neville exchanged a smile. "Now, if you two will excuse me, I need to go prepare some needles for my next lesson. Especially as this is the same group that Harry's had so much success with already." Remus gave an especially warm smile and clapped Harry's shoulder on his way out, and Harry grinned.
When Remus had gone, Harry said, "I didn't know Remus played Quidditch."
Neville shrugged. "He didn't officially play here at Hogwarts, of course. Potential to miss too many practices and games, I suppose. Still loved to play the game; used to play with your dad and Sirius all the time. Just as Quidditch mad as the two of them, I reckon."
Harry couldn't stop himself from asking the question, though he wished he could. "How do you know all of this?"
At that, Neville flushed a bit and looked down, reminding Harry strongly of Neville's second-year self. "Remus . . . helped me through a particularly difficult time in my life. I. There was someone, but I didn't think. Anyway. He was very helpful; we chatted quite a lot." Neville looked at Harry and blushed again. "I guess he must have mentioned it."
Harry couldn't help feeling a twisting in his chest that Neville had had that kind of experience with Remus and he hadn't.
"I think Remus has Sirius' old broom still," Neville went on.
"Remus has Sirius' broom?" Harry echoed.
"I'm pretty sure. Sirius gave it to him when we were fifth years; something that survived Grimmauld Place, in its own way."
"Why would Sirius give Remus his broom - not me?" Harry snapped. He realized he sounded as petulant and angry as he would have at fifteen, and he stopped, summoning a deep breath.
"I." Neville stopped, tried to start again, and only managed to put his hands in the pocket of his robes. "Sirius and Remus." Neville flushed. "You don't know?"
"Know what?" Harry demanded.
Neville shook his head and sighed. "I don't think it's for me to say."
Harry raised an eyebrow. Not only did Neville have a closer relationship to Remus than he did, but he knew something Harry did not, and he wouldn't say what it was.
"They were friends of my dad, you know," Harry said.
"I know," Neville said. "That's the hardest part."
*
The next evening Harry had dinner with Ron and Hermione in their rooms. After making their way through Hermione's dinner and then the pudding Ron had the house elves sneak up to their quarters (on the correct hunch that they might need some additional nourishment after Hermione's cooking), Ron and Harry found themselves on the floor in front of the fire having a game of chess, while Hermione read a Muggle mystery novel in her favorite chair.
Harry had wanted to broach the subject of Neville and what he may or may not know about Remus all evening, but he was hesitant, partly because of his own somewhat childish reaction. He needn't have worried, since Hermione beat him to the punch after Ron took one of his knights.
"I had a chat with Neville this morning," she said, casually.
"Good on you. Your move, Harry," Ron said.
Hermione rolled her eyes slightly, but went on as Harry looked up. "He told me what happened in the staff room yesterday."
"What happened in the staff room yesterday?" Ron asked, looking from Hermione to Harry.
Both Harry and Hermione sighed.
"Look, Harry, Neville didn't mean to intrude. He didn't even know he was. He thought you and Sirius and Remus were all very close," Hermione said.
"I thought we were, too," Harry replied.
"You were," Hermione said. "Sirius loved you more than . . ." she trailed off.
"More than his own life, yeah," Harry whispered, somewhat pleased at being able to keep the tremor out of his voice after all these years.
The room was quiet for a moment, and the fire crackled merrily in the hearth.
"What about Remus?" Harry asked.
"Oh, I'm sure Remus loves you, too . . . it's just different. Remus is just different," Hermione said.
"Yeah, mate," Ron agreed. "Do you know he didn't keep in touch with anyone but you and Neville for the first couple of years after the war?"
Harry's forehead started to wrinkle. "But I only got a card at Christmas, a letter on my birthday . . . maybe one owl besides that a year at that time."
"True, Harry, but that was more than anyone else got," Hermione confirmed. "If it hadn't been for when you mentioned him and what he was doing, we might have thought he'd gone missing or dead after all."
Harry thought about this. "Why would Remus stay out of touch?"
Hermione shrugged a little. "Lupin . . . Remus. He lost a lot during the war."
"We all lost a lot during the war," Harry countered, glancing over at Ron, who had lost both Charlie and Percy.
Ron's hand reached over the edge of the chair to find Hermione's; their hands entwined and she gave Ron's a squeeze.
"That's true," Ron said. "But I didn't lose Hermione." Hermione squeezed again, a little harder this time.
"Remus didn't lose Tonks . . . I mean, I guess he did, but she didn't die; they just decided it wasn't working."
Ron and Hermione exchanged a look.
"But he did lose Sirius," Hermione ventured softly.
"Sure, Sirius was his best friend -"
"Not the way you're my best friend, Harry," Ron said, and Hermione looked as though she didn't know whether to jab Ron in the ribs or kiss him for being helpful. She settled for tickling the back of his neck with her bare toes.
"Harry, Remus and Sirius were lovers," Hermione clarified.
"What?"
Ron shrugged. "We thought everyone knew; we heard about it the summer we spent at Grimmauld Place. Mum and Dad talked about it openly."
"So did a lot of the Order," Hermione added.
"Everyone knew?" Harry managed.
"I. I thought it was pretty common knowledge, actually," Ron said. "I always thought it funny that you never brought it up, but I figured you would if you wanted to."
"Everyone knew." Harry said. "Everyone knew. The two of you. Your Mum and Dad. The Order. Neville. But not me?" Harry could hear his voice rising right along with his temper.
"It really wasn't any of our business," Hermione said. "We didn't want to gossip about it. Besides, we thought you knew."
"I didn't know," Harry shouted.
"Obviously," Ron said, dryly.
"Why wouldn't they tell me something like that? Why wouldn't Sirius tell me?" Harry went on.
"That, I don't know, Harry," Hermione said. "Maybe they were waiting for the right time. Maybe they didn't know how. Remus - well. You know how private Remus is, how much he turns in on himself, like how he stayed away after the war, how he was reluctant to come back to Hogwarts."
"Did they think I wouldn't understand?"
"Of course not," Ron started, but the look on Harry's face cut him off.
"The whole thing was complicated, Harry. Think about it. Sirius was stuck in Grimmauld Place. Voldemort had just come back. They were trying to protect you from the prophecy. Sirius and Remus themselves . . . well, you try to imagine putting a relationship together in that kind of situation, after one of you has been to Azkaban and on the run, and the other thought for twelve years that he'd been betrayed." Hermione ground to a halt, and looked at Harry.
Harry, meanwhile, looked at the chessboard, where, now that he could see it, he was losing quite badly to Ron.
"Everyone knew. Everyone knew but me," he finally said again. "Why?"
"I don't know," Ron said. "If you want to know, I think you'll have to ask Remus."
Harry thought for a moment, then looked up. "What did you think about them?" he asked.
Hermione answered without hesitation. "I thought they loved each other," she said.
*
Harry waited until after the last class of the day and found Remus still in his classroom. Though he no longer taught DADA, Remus had requested the same classroom and office, and since Harry taught on the third floor, he had no problem agreeing. As he stepped into the room today, Harry felt like he had been transported back to third year, and he was just as confused, insecure, and a touch angry as he had been then. Even Remus, motioning him inside and stepping around his desk, seemed the same, though of course he was older - hair completely grey now, more wrinkles around his eyes, a few around his mouth, still thin, but not skinny or sickly looking. Harry had to fight down the urge to call him Professor Lupin.
"Hello, Harry," Remus said, smiling. "Is there something I can do for you?"
"I. Yes. No." Harry stopped. Remus was still smiling; he stood leaning against his desk. "I've heard some things in the last couple of days," Harry plowed on. "I was wondering if they were true."
Remus raised his eyebrows. "What kind of things?"
"That you and Sirius were together. That you were lovers."
Remus stopped smiling and sighed. "I've wondered for quite some time if you were ever going to ask me about that, Harry."
"You could have just told me about it," Harry snapped.
"We wanted to, when Sirius was. Well, when Sirius was still alive. After he was gone . . . I didn't think there was any reason you needed to know anymore." Remus passed a hand over his eyes.
Harry wasn't satisfied. "Why didn't you? Everyone knew but me. I don't understand how everyone could know and I didn't. I always thought -"
"That you were the most important person in our lives?" Remus asked.
Harry stopped, brought up short. He thought about it. "Yes," he answered honestly.
"You were. To Sirius you were . . . well, I was almost jealous sometimes." Remus smiled faintly.
"I still don't understand," Harry said.
Remus was quiet for some time, and when he spoke again his words were careful, measured. "We were still feeling our way through it, Harry. If Sirius had lived longer, I know we would have told you. We thought you had enough on your plate at the time, and I thought Sirius had enough to do in terms of keeping you loved and safe without adding that burden along with it. I just wanted Sirius to be as uncomplicated for you as possible. You needed him. It wasn't necessary for me to be part of the package."
"I liked you, too, Remus. You and Sirius were all that I had left of my mum and dad, especially my dad."
Remus shook his head. "No, you were, you are, what is left of your mum and dad. Sirius might have been a connection to them, but I. Well, I don't know what I was, exactly. For years I felt so outside of that experience, of my friendship and love for your family, and it felt so shattered for me, that I didn't quite know what to do when some of the pieces came back together."
"Always underestimating yourself, Remus," Harry said.
"Probably," Remus agreed.
"Do you know who I most was looking forward to seeing here this year?" Harry asked. "You. Even over Neville. You're . . . I think of you as my family, Remus." Harry swallowed hard and lowered his head, thinking that he'd said more than he had intended. He could feel a flush of embarrassment at his feelings creeping up his neck.
"Harry - "
Harry looked up at his name, to see not reproach or indifference in Remus' eyes, but the same hopeful awkwardness that was squeezing Harry's throat shut.
"Do you not see me the same way?" Harry whispered.
"Harry. I. The only family I've known since my parents died was made up of James and Lily, of Sirius. Of you. I loved you back before it was possible for you to remember me. After I knew you when you were old enough remember me, I wasn't sure if you would want to." Remus stopped, took a shuddering breath. "I'm not used to saying this much."
"Well, get used to it," Harry replied, though his own heart felt squeezed in his chest. "I'm going to be asking for a lot more information in the future."
Remus didn't smile yet, but the lines around his eyes began to relax. "I also. Well, I think part of me was selfish. I didn't want to share that part of Sirius with you. I wanted some to myself."
"I want to know about it. I want to know about that part of you, too. Sharing it doesn't make it disappear."
"I know. You might have to give me some time, though."
"So now's not the time to ask when you had your first snog," Harry said.
"No. Though you could ask McGonagall; she probably has a very traumatic memory about it."
Harry laughed.
"I'm serious, you know," Remus said.
Harry laughed again. "I know. I'm just thinking about asking so I can see the look on her face."
At that, Remus did smile.
"Did you love him?" Harry asked suddenly.
"I did," Remus answered. "I do."
"Did he love you?"
"He did. Once, Harry Potter, I probably would have said that I thought he did, but for you, I can say he did."
"Good," Harry said. He paused. "McGonagall, really?"
"I thought you weren't going to ask me."
"I'm just confirming."
"Sixth year. Kitchen raid."
"Huh."
"That's all I'll say."
"Well. In that case, perhaps we should go to dinner? I'll walk you," Harry said.
"That would be lovely." Remus picked up his satchel from next to his desk, and the two men began to walk out of the classroom. "Do you know what we're having?"
"Don't care; I'm starving," Harry replied.
"Dinner at Ron and Hermione's last night?" Remus asked.
"She tried a roast."
"That couldn't have been . . ." Remus caught the look on Harry's face and trailed off. "Ron nick dessert?"
"Thank Merlin."
Remus laughed.
"Remus?"
"Yes?"
"What position did you play in Quidditch?" Harry turned to look at Remus as they walked out the door.
"Keeper," Remus answered, smiling.
*
Harry found Neville working in the greenhouse the next morning. Neville had on dragonhide gloves and looked to be repotting some delicate African mantus plants. He looked up when he heard Harry enter, and smiled.
"Hello, Harry. Just doing a little work."
Neville started to ease his hands from underneath the plant so he could take his gloves off, but Harry stopped him with, "Please, Neville. Keep on working."
"It'll only take a minute," Neville apologized, digging his hands back in again.
"Not to worry."
Neville finally took in what Harry was carrying in his hands. "That's a beautiful lilac. I believe that wizarding version grows in South Africa."
Harry smiled. "It does; you sent it to me. Well, a seedling of it, anyway."
Neville looked up, tossed his head in a failed attempt to keep his fringe off his face. "Really? I haven't been to South Africa in at least five years."
"I know. I potted this one about that time; she's grown well, hasn't she?"
"She?"
Harry shrugged, a little embarrassed.
Neville smiled. "You've done a good job with that plant, Harry. It's gorgeous."
"Thanks. I was worried I'd kill it; I was always rubbish in Herbology."
"You weren't that bad," Neville replied, patting soil down around the plant.
"You're just kind," Harry said. "Hermione was always giving me the answers." He put the plant down on Neville's workbench.
"Well, I know a thing or two about that," Neville said wryly, starting to pull off his gloves.
"Listen, Neville." Harry paused. "I just wanted you to know, well. I know. I mean, I've talked to Remus."
Neville went still, but didn't answer.
"I know about Remus and Sirius," Harry went on. "You don't have to worry about telling me or not telling me."
Neville flushed a bit. "Oh. That's good. That's - good," he said.
"Yeah," Harry said.
"Yeah."
"I know it's none of my business . . ." Harry started.
"Well, Sirius was your godfather. You should probably know."
"Oh, yeah. Right. It's just . . . that's not what I meant."
"Okay," Neville said.
Harry sighed heavily. "You'd think I'd be better at this by now."
"Better at what?" Neville asked.
"I'm saying, I know it's not my business how you and Remus got to be friends, but. But if you ever wanted to talk about it. Not that Remus has said anything because Remus hasn't. He wouldn't."
"Right, no, of course not."
"Right. Yes." Harry looked down, then back up at Neville. "I kept a plant for five years."
"What?"
"Neville. I kept a plant for five years. Because it came from you."
"Oh. Oh."
"So. Er. It's a nice day. Maybe if you wanted to take a walk down to Hogsmeade and talk . . ." Harry said.
Neville smiled, bright as the sunshine. "I'd like that, Harry."
Request: Past Remus/Sirius, Remus + Harry: In the near future or
postwar, Harry hears about Sirius's relationship with Remus from
everyone but Remus. He finally confronts Remus, wanting to know why he
couldn't have told him himself. I'm looking for Remus and Harry
feeling their way toward a family relationship or friendship, not
Remus/Harry.
Title: The Cultivation of Lilacs
Author: Regina Twonkle (97); regina_twonkle (krabapple)
Pairing/Character: Harry Potter, Remus Lupin; very slight pre-Harry/Neville; past-Remus/Sirius
Recipient: Ambrose Womble (55) (penknife)
Rating: PG
Warnings: None. The fic is mostly gen. Post-War, so some minor character death is mentioned. Recipient's request is stated at the end of the fic. Approx. 4,150 words. Thank you to my wonderful and talented beta for this, thistlerose.
Summary: After the war, Harry starts a career as a professor at Hogwarts. When Remus returns to the castle as well, Harry learns that he doesn't know everything he should about Remus' past.
It only seemed fitting that the first Defense Against the Dark Arts professor to last more than a year since Voldemort cursed the position was Harry Potter. He had first come to Hogwarts out of respect for McGonagall and in silent honor of Dumbledore; Hogwarts was opening for its first year after the war when Harry returned at twenty-one, a full decade after he had first set eyes on the glowing, candle-lit castle.
The castle itself had been thrown asunder during the war, parts of it crumbling from attack, or moldy with disuse. Slowly, under McGonagall's watchful eye and Ron's steady and caring hands (Ron was hired as the new caretaker after Hagrid's death; he had started the same year as Harry, along with Hermione, the new librarian), Hogwarts was showing signs of life once again, both on the outside and the inside. The job Harry had thought from his adventures as a student would only last a year was now approaching an actual tenure.
This year, Harry's fourth, brought more staff and more students to Hogwarts than the school had seen since the end of the war. Hogwarts had been closed for three years prior to Harry's return, and for the three years after it had been re-opened, there had been only a small number of students and an even smaller number of staff, with professors often pulling double or even triple duty in the subjects they taught. Harry himself had taught both DADA and Muggle Studies, and he had even had a short and memorable bout as the Herbology professor before his stint ended in his own poisoning and a five day stay in the infirmary, after which McGonagall herself had assumed the role.
But, oh, this year, Harry felt a spring in his step and a soft buzzing of excitement in his ears as September 1st approached. Gryffindor Tower had been completely repaired, and was now ready to house a full contingent of students. Neville had been hired as the Herbology professor, bringing him back to England for the first time since the war was over; he had been in Africa researching indigenous magical plants, and mourning his gran, Dean, Luna, and other loved ones, grieving along with everyone else. Harry would receive an occasional owl or postcard, often with one of Neville's sample plants attached. Though he would never say so, Harry had kept all of the post, including the samples, and had even potted the wizarding lilacs Neville had sent him from South Africa, which bloomed quite magnificently year round.
Best of all, Remus Lupin was also returning to Hogwarts. Not as the DADA professor, of course, but as Transfigurations professor, a post McGonagall had been reluctant to fill with anyone aside from herself. However, the consideration that the growth of the school would keep her too busy as Headmistress for her to teach was a wonderful turn of events, and Harry thought she could not have chosen a better replacement. Remus had been reluctant to accept the position, Harry knew, though the Ministry, in light of Remus' significant contribution to the war effort, had raised most of the limitations on werewolves, and public opinion had started to sway more in favor of people like Remus. There was a long way to go, but society's treatment of werewolves seemed on the mend.
However, in Harry's opinion, Remus himself did not seem on the mend. He had grown increasingly quiet and isolated since Harry was fifteen, and the death of Sirius; he and Harry kept in touch sporadically, often around Christmas and birthdays, or the occasional lunch in Diagon Alley. After Remus' relationship with Tonks had ended some years ago, Remus had more or less gone to live as a Muggle, keeping a small flat in a less-than-modest area of London and working in a bookshop, where his hours could be kept flexible.
But this year, Remus was once again returning to Hogwarts, and with the arrival of both Neville and Remus, and the constant presence of Ron and Hermione, Harry finally believed that his small and make-shift family, such as it was, would finally become whole.
*
"I haven't had a chance to say it before, but I like the new specs, Harry," Neville noted as Harry popped into the staffroom for a much needed cup of tea after a disastrous fourth period. Not even a week into the year, and his new first years had managed to start a fire, explode bits of quills, and curse each other purple. Today he'd sent one to the infirmary with a potato growing out of his ear.
"Thanks, Neville," Harry said, pouring a cup and drinking it straight down before pausing to refill the cup once more. Without a word, Neville handed Harry the milk pitcher and Harry, sustained enough by the first cup to regulate a slower pace, added milk to his tea and then stirred it in with a bit of wandless magic.
"The black suits you, as well as the more rectangular shape," Neville continued.
Harry smiled a bit lopsidedly. "I needed a bit of a change. It's surprising how much new specs can make you unrecognizable to the untrained eye. Besides, wire rim doesn't stand up very well to either dark spells or Quidditch."
At that Remus, who was quietly reading a book by the window, looked up. His gaze caught Harry's and he smiled a just a little. "Can't tell you how many pairs James went through while we were in school. Broke them even beyond what reparo could fix. Drove his mum insane."
Harry returned the smile and took a chair, while Neville sat down near the tea table.
"You still play Quidditch, Harry?" Neville asked.
Harry shrugged. "Pick up games with Ron and the other staff sometimes. Ron oversees Quidditch too, you know, along with his other duties."
"And I'm sure he's not the least bit biased for Gryffindor, either," Neville laughed.
"Of course not. Though I'd never seen him cry until Slytherin won the Cup last year," Harry said. Neville laughed again.
"You should join us, Neville," Harry went on. "I think we're going to play a game tonight, since the weather is still good. I'm pretty sure Jane, the new Muggle Studies professor is going to play, too."
Neville shook his head. "Sorry. Still not my best on a broom. Sounds like fun to come and watch, though."
"Brilliant. We're going to meet after dinner."
Neville nodded, then, to Harry's surprise, turned to Remus. "Why don't you go down and play, Remus?" Harry wasn't sure which stunned him more, Neville's easy use of Remus' given name or the fact that Neville was asking Remus about Quidditch.
At that, Remus shook his head. "Bit too old, I'm afraid."
"Nonsense!" Neville countered. "It's just a pick-up game."
"Too out of practice, then," Remus answered. "But I appreciate the thought, Neville. And Harry," Remus added.
"Well, if I won't play myself, it hardly seems fair to coerce you into it," Neville admitted.
"Once again, Neville, your sense of fair play is your strength," Remus said, standing while he and Neville exchanged a smile. "Now, if you two will excuse me, I need to go prepare some needles for my next lesson. Especially as this is the same group that Harry's had so much success with already." Remus gave an especially warm smile and clapped Harry's shoulder on his way out, and Harry grinned.
When Remus had gone, Harry said, "I didn't know Remus played Quidditch."
Neville shrugged. "He didn't officially play here at Hogwarts, of course. Potential to miss too many practices and games, I suppose. Still loved to play the game; used to play with your dad and Sirius all the time. Just as Quidditch mad as the two of them, I reckon."
Harry couldn't stop himself from asking the question, though he wished he could. "How do you know all of this?"
At that, Neville flushed a bit and looked down, reminding Harry strongly of Neville's second-year self. "Remus . . . helped me through a particularly difficult time in my life. I. There was someone, but I didn't think. Anyway. He was very helpful; we chatted quite a lot." Neville looked at Harry and blushed again. "I guess he must have mentioned it."
Harry couldn't help feeling a twisting in his chest that Neville had had that kind of experience with Remus and he hadn't.
"I think Remus has Sirius' old broom still," Neville went on.
"Remus has Sirius' broom?" Harry echoed.
"I'm pretty sure. Sirius gave it to him when we were fifth years; something that survived Grimmauld Place, in its own way."
"Why would Sirius give Remus his broom - not me?" Harry snapped. He realized he sounded as petulant and angry as he would have at fifteen, and he stopped, summoning a deep breath.
"I." Neville stopped, tried to start again, and only managed to put his hands in the pocket of his robes. "Sirius and Remus." Neville flushed. "You don't know?"
"Know what?" Harry demanded.
Neville shook his head and sighed. "I don't think it's for me to say."
Harry raised an eyebrow. Not only did Neville have a closer relationship to Remus than he did, but he knew something Harry did not, and he wouldn't say what it was.
"They were friends of my dad, you know," Harry said.
"I know," Neville said. "That's the hardest part."
*
The next evening Harry had dinner with Ron and Hermione in their rooms. After making their way through Hermione's dinner and then the pudding Ron had the house elves sneak up to their quarters (on the correct hunch that they might need some additional nourishment after Hermione's cooking), Ron and Harry found themselves on the floor in front of the fire having a game of chess, while Hermione read a Muggle mystery novel in her favorite chair.
Harry had wanted to broach the subject of Neville and what he may or may not know about Remus all evening, but he was hesitant, partly because of his own somewhat childish reaction. He needn't have worried, since Hermione beat him to the punch after Ron took one of his knights.
"I had a chat with Neville this morning," she said, casually.
"Good on you. Your move, Harry," Ron said.
Hermione rolled her eyes slightly, but went on as Harry looked up. "He told me what happened in the staff room yesterday."
"What happened in the staff room yesterday?" Ron asked, looking from Hermione to Harry.
Both Harry and Hermione sighed.
"Look, Harry, Neville didn't mean to intrude. He didn't even know he was. He thought you and Sirius and Remus were all very close," Hermione said.
"I thought we were, too," Harry replied.
"You were," Hermione said. "Sirius loved you more than . . ." she trailed off.
"More than his own life, yeah," Harry whispered, somewhat pleased at being able to keep the tremor out of his voice after all these years.
The room was quiet for a moment, and the fire crackled merrily in the hearth.
"What about Remus?" Harry asked.
"Oh, I'm sure Remus loves you, too . . . it's just different. Remus is just different," Hermione said.
"Yeah, mate," Ron agreed. "Do you know he didn't keep in touch with anyone but you and Neville for the first couple of years after the war?"
Harry's forehead started to wrinkle. "But I only got a card at Christmas, a letter on my birthday . . . maybe one owl besides that a year at that time."
"True, Harry, but that was more than anyone else got," Hermione confirmed. "If it hadn't been for when you mentioned him and what he was doing, we might have thought he'd gone missing or dead after all."
Harry thought about this. "Why would Remus stay out of touch?"
Hermione shrugged a little. "Lupin . . . Remus. He lost a lot during the war."
"We all lost a lot during the war," Harry countered, glancing over at Ron, who had lost both Charlie and Percy.
Ron's hand reached over the edge of the chair to find Hermione's; their hands entwined and she gave Ron's a squeeze.
"That's true," Ron said. "But I didn't lose Hermione." Hermione squeezed again, a little harder this time.
"Remus didn't lose Tonks . . . I mean, I guess he did, but she didn't die; they just decided it wasn't working."
Ron and Hermione exchanged a look.
"But he did lose Sirius," Hermione ventured softly.
"Sure, Sirius was his best friend -"
"Not the way you're my best friend, Harry," Ron said, and Hermione looked as though she didn't know whether to jab Ron in the ribs or kiss him for being helpful. She settled for tickling the back of his neck with her bare toes.
"Harry, Remus and Sirius were lovers," Hermione clarified.
"What?"
Ron shrugged. "We thought everyone knew; we heard about it the summer we spent at Grimmauld Place. Mum and Dad talked about it openly."
"So did a lot of the Order," Hermione added.
"Everyone knew?" Harry managed.
"I. I thought it was pretty common knowledge, actually," Ron said. "I always thought it funny that you never brought it up, but I figured you would if you wanted to."
"Everyone knew." Harry said. "Everyone knew. The two of you. Your Mum and Dad. The Order. Neville. But not me?" Harry could hear his voice rising right along with his temper.
"It really wasn't any of our business," Hermione said. "We didn't want to gossip about it. Besides, we thought you knew."
"I didn't know," Harry shouted.
"Obviously," Ron said, dryly.
"Why wouldn't they tell me something like that? Why wouldn't Sirius tell me?" Harry went on.
"That, I don't know, Harry," Hermione said. "Maybe they were waiting for the right time. Maybe they didn't know how. Remus - well. You know how private Remus is, how much he turns in on himself, like how he stayed away after the war, how he was reluctant to come back to Hogwarts."
"Did they think I wouldn't understand?"
"Of course not," Ron started, but the look on Harry's face cut him off.
"The whole thing was complicated, Harry. Think about it. Sirius was stuck in Grimmauld Place. Voldemort had just come back. They were trying to protect you from the prophecy. Sirius and Remus themselves . . . well, you try to imagine putting a relationship together in that kind of situation, after one of you has been to Azkaban and on the run, and the other thought for twelve years that he'd been betrayed." Hermione ground to a halt, and looked at Harry.
Harry, meanwhile, looked at the chessboard, where, now that he could see it, he was losing quite badly to Ron.
"Everyone knew. Everyone knew but me," he finally said again. "Why?"
"I don't know," Ron said. "If you want to know, I think you'll have to ask Remus."
Harry thought for a moment, then looked up. "What did you think about them?" he asked.
Hermione answered without hesitation. "I thought they loved each other," she said.
*
Harry waited until after the last class of the day and found Remus still in his classroom. Though he no longer taught DADA, Remus had requested the same classroom and office, and since Harry taught on the third floor, he had no problem agreeing. As he stepped into the room today, Harry felt like he had been transported back to third year, and he was just as confused, insecure, and a touch angry as he had been then. Even Remus, motioning him inside and stepping around his desk, seemed the same, though of course he was older - hair completely grey now, more wrinkles around his eyes, a few around his mouth, still thin, but not skinny or sickly looking. Harry had to fight down the urge to call him Professor Lupin.
"Hello, Harry," Remus said, smiling. "Is there something I can do for you?"
"I. Yes. No." Harry stopped. Remus was still smiling; he stood leaning against his desk. "I've heard some things in the last couple of days," Harry plowed on. "I was wondering if they were true."
Remus raised his eyebrows. "What kind of things?"
"That you and Sirius were together. That you were lovers."
Remus stopped smiling and sighed. "I've wondered for quite some time if you were ever going to ask me about that, Harry."
"You could have just told me about it," Harry snapped.
"We wanted to, when Sirius was. Well, when Sirius was still alive. After he was gone . . . I didn't think there was any reason you needed to know anymore." Remus passed a hand over his eyes.
Harry wasn't satisfied. "Why didn't you? Everyone knew but me. I don't understand how everyone could know and I didn't. I always thought -"
"That you were the most important person in our lives?" Remus asked.
Harry stopped, brought up short. He thought about it. "Yes," he answered honestly.
"You were. To Sirius you were . . . well, I was almost jealous sometimes." Remus smiled faintly.
"I still don't understand," Harry said.
Remus was quiet for some time, and when he spoke again his words were careful, measured. "We were still feeling our way through it, Harry. If Sirius had lived longer, I know we would have told you. We thought you had enough on your plate at the time, and I thought Sirius had enough to do in terms of keeping you loved and safe without adding that burden along with it. I just wanted Sirius to be as uncomplicated for you as possible. You needed him. It wasn't necessary for me to be part of the package."
"I liked you, too, Remus. You and Sirius were all that I had left of my mum and dad, especially my dad."
Remus shook his head. "No, you were, you are, what is left of your mum and dad. Sirius might have been a connection to them, but I. Well, I don't know what I was, exactly. For years I felt so outside of that experience, of my friendship and love for your family, and it felt so shattered for me, that I didn't quite know what to do when some of the pieces came back together."
"Always underestimating yourself, Remus," Harry said.
"Probably," Remus agreed.
"Do you know who I most was looking forward to seeing here this year?" Harry asked. "You. Even over Neville. You're . . . I think of you as my family, Remus." Harry swallowed hard and lowered his head, thinking that he'd said more than he had intended. He could feel a flush of embarrassment at his feelings creeping up his neck.
"Harry - "
Harry looked up at his name, to see not reproach or indifference in Remus' eyes, but the same hopeful awkwardness that was squeezing Harry's throat shut.
"Do you not see me the same way?" Harry whispered.
"Harry. I. The only family I've known since my parents died was made up of James and Lily, of Sirius. Of you. I loved you back before it was possible for you to remember me. After I knew you when you were old enough remember me, I wasn't sure if you would want to." Remus stopped, took a shuddering breath. "I'm not used to saying this much."
"Well, get used to it," Harry replied, though his own heart felt squeezed in his chest. "I'm going to be asking for a lot more information in the future."
Remus didn't smile yet, but the lines around his eyes began to relax. "I also. Well, I think part of me was selfish. I didn't want to share that part of Sirius with you. I wanted some to myself."
"I want to know about it. I want to know about that part of you, too. Sharing it doesn't make it disappear."
"I know. You might have to give me some time, though."
"So now's not the time to ask when you had your first snog," Harry said.
"No. Though you could ask McGonagall; she probably has a very traumatic memory about it."
Harry laughed.
"I'm serious, you know," Remus said.
Harry laughed again. "I know. I'm just thinking about asking so I can see the look on her face."
At that, Remus did smile.
"Did you love him?" Harry asked suddenly.
"I did," Remus answered. "I do."
"Did he love you?"
"He did. Once, Harry Potter, I probably would have said that I thought he did, but for you, I can say he did."
"Good," Harry said. He paused. "McGonagall, really?"
"I thought you weren't going to ask me."
"I'm just confirming."
"Sixth year. Kitchen raid."
"Huh."
"That's all I'll say."
"Well. In that case, perhaps we should go to dinner? I'll walk you," Harry said.
"That would be lovely." Remus picked up his satchel from next to his desk, and the two men began to walk out of the classroom. "Do you know what we're having?"
"Don't care; I'm starving," Harry replied.
"Dinner at Ron and Hermione's last night?" Remus asked.
"She tried a roast."
"That couldn't have been . . ." Remus caught the look on Harry's face and trailed off. "Ron nick dessert?"
"Thank Merlin."
Remus laughed.
"Remus?"
"Yes?"
"What position did you play in Quidditch?" Harry turned to look at Remus as they walked out the door.
"Keeper," Remus answered, smiling.
*
Harry found Neville working in the greenhouse the next morning. Neville had on dragonhide gloves and looked to be repotting some delicate African mantus plants. He looked up when he heard Harry enter, and smiled.
"Hello, Harry. Just doing a little work."
Neville started to ease his hands from underneath the plant so he could take his gloves off, but Harry stopped him with, "Please, Neville. Keep on working."
"It'll only take a minute," Neville apologized, digging his hands back in again.
"Not to worry."
Neville finally took in what Harry was carrying in his hands. "That's a beautiful lilac. I believe that wizarding version grows in South Africa."
Harry smiled. "It does; you sent it to me. Well, a seedling of it, anyway."
Neville looked up, tossed his head in a failed attempt to keep his fringe off his face. "Really? I haven't been to South Africa in at least five years."
"I know. I potted this one about that time; she's grown well, hasn't she?"
"She?"
Harry shrugged, a little embarrassed.
Neville smiled. "You've done a good job with that plant, Harry. It's gorgeous."
"Thanks. I was worried I'd kill it; I was always rubbish in Herbology."
"You weren't that bad," Neville replied, patting soil down around the plant.
"You're just kind," Harry said. "Hermione was always giving me the answers." He put the plant down on Neville's workbench.
"Well, I know a thing or two about that," Neville said wryly, starting to pull off his gloves.
"Listen, Neville." Harry paused. "I just wanted you to know, well. I know. I mean, I've talked to Remus."
Neville went still, but didn't answer.
"I know about Remus and Sirius," Harry went on. "You don't have to worry about telling me or not telling me."
Neville flushed a bit. "Oh. That's good. That's - good," he said.
"Yeah," Harry said.
"Yeah."
"I know it's none of my business . . ." Harry started.
"Well, Sirius was your godfather. You should probably know."
"Oh, yeah. Right. It's just . . . that's not what I meant."
"Okay," Neville said.
Harry sighed heavily. "You'd think I'd be better at this by now."
"Better at what?" Neville asked.
"I'm saying, I know it's not my business how you and Remus got to be friends, but. But if you ever wanted to talk about it. Not that Remus has said anything because Remus hasn't. He wouldn't."
"Right, no, of course not."
"Right. Yes." Harry looked down, then back up at Neville. "I kept a plant for five years."
"What?"
"Neville. I kept a plant for five years. Because it came from you."
"Oh. Oh."
"So. Er. It's a nice day. Maybe if you wanted to take a walk down to Hogsmeade and talk . . ." Harry said.
Neville smiled, bright as the sunshine. "I'd like that, Harry."
Request: Past Remus/Sirius, Remus + Harry: In the near future or
postwar, Harry hears about Sirius's relationship with Remus from
everyone but Remus. He finally confronts Remus, wanting to know why he
couldn't have told him himself. I'm looking for Remus and Harry
feeling their way toward a family relationship or friendship, not
Remus/Harry.