An Unforgivable Request

[m4moony]

Date: January 19 & 25, 2000
Time: Just after sunset each day
Character(s) Involved: Remus & Harry
Rating: PG for weighty emotional content and potential strong language and/or some violence

Comments

[m4moony]

"There isn't any other way," he said quietly.

Crossing to where the young man had seemingly caved in upon himself, Remus dropped to his knees in front of Harry. Thin, careworn hands, deceptive in the strength hidden beneath the skin of them, grasped Harry's shoulders gently. More than anything, his friend's outburst had proven to him that there was still something there that would be utterly destroyed by what they proposed to do...unless Remus was careful in how they went about it.

He'd made a promise, nearly seven years ago, to protect James' son. To make sure, when the time came for Harry to face his own Fate, that he gave this incredible young man every tool at his disposal to survive the event. It tore at his heart to risk what little innocent had been allowed to remain with the boy, to force Harry into this situation. Yes, Remus would feel a great deal of pain as a result of such practice, but how much pain on a level much deeper than neuromuscular was he going to inflict upon Harry with this endeavor?

But, it would appear it had to be done. They could all deal with the consequences after the enemy was destroyed and they had a chance to finally move on for the first time in over two decades.

"Harry, look at me...please?" He angled his head in an attempt to gain eye contact. "Harry, you said yourself there's no other way to win this. You have to know these spells. I can't argue with you, either, because no matter how much I argue against it, the fact of the matter is you know more Voldemort than I do. You've faced him and you've survived. As much as I wish I could shelter you from this, I can't."

More than that, he greatly feared the emotional scars might never heal...and that would be Remus' fault.

"Harry, I made a promise, both to myself and to your parents' memory, that I would see you safely through this. James was your father, Sirius your godfather, but in a way, you have been a son for all of us. If we don't do this and you're right, do you honestly think it would save me any pain in the long run? If you were to die so that I was spared the discomfort...

"There is no other way, Harry. I won't lose you too."

[broken_harry]

He couldn't look at him. Not like this, not when he was supposed to be strong and better than the tears that burned at the corners of his eyes. Not after yelling at the man and having him be so kind in return.

Not when he knew Remus was right and what that meant.

Harry's eyes slid closed when Remus declared him a son for all of us. Those words hurt as much as they brought joy to the now broken boy forced into being a man before his time. The truth behind them wasn't questioned, not from Remus. Harry felt as close to what a son should feel for a father, or what he believed that to be based on what little experience he had, for the man now on his knees before him. There had been others, Sirius and Dumbledore, that Harry had been as close to - but they were gone. Remus was the one who had seen him through the past nearly three years and he was the last. The last person Harry had to go to, to lean on, to show any kind of weakness to. And now - what had to happen - may just destroy that. Something Harry had asked of him, and now couldn't take back. He'd spent almost three years waiting for this day, finding the words to ask what he had to of this man - and now all he wanted to do was erase it.

And then Remus made Harry face what he'd been trying to avoid during this whole conversation.

I won't lose you too.

Harry's eyes shot open to meet the gaze of Remus and the seriousness behind it. Harry was used to people reassuring him, his destiny, his ability to come out of this the victor and everything would be just fine. But the truth was always there, behind their words and in their eyes. They knew the odds as well as Harry did and they knew they were against him - no matter how many cliched titles the population at large gave him.

But not Remus. His eyes said something different. There was faith there. Faith for more than just Harry saving the world, a faith that Harry could save himself. That he would survive.

"I don't want to do this, Remus. Any of it."

[m4moony]

Remus Lupin was not destined for a wife and children. That future had been taken from him nearly thirty-six years ago with a flash of fangs and the rending of flesh. It was a loss he had come to accept early in his own life. If the pangs of loneliness which crept up on him in the dead of night seemed to do so more and more often as the years progressed, that was to be expected and survived.

But the Gods had given two of his dearest friends a child, Harry, and in doing so had gifted their small group of friends -- friends who were more like family than many familes -- a son, even those who would not live to sire sons of their own. Remus meant the sentiment with everything he was. Fate had stolen his opportunity for children of his own, then given him Harry to love as much as he would have a son of his making.

So, when Harry finally looked at him with eyes full of the apprehension Remus knew had to be there, even if Harry managed to hide it reasonably well, and uttered those words, Remus did what his own father had done upon being faced with a young man not much younger than Harry who was also just beginning to realize exactly what path was before him as a result of a curse he'd never asked for...

He wrapped his arms around the his shoulders, drawing him into a fatherly embrace and offering up his strength and support in the best way he knew in the moment.

"I know, Harry. I wish you didn't have to. But you don't have to do it all alone. I'll be right there next to you. I promise."

[broken_harry]

Harry had insisted on standing on his own two feet for these past few years. He had accepted his fate, his destiny, and, to an extent, the very real possibility of his own death. He had gone in search of the Horcruxes and they had been found - and destroyed at Harry's hand. He had managed to master Occlumency enough to block Voldemort from his mind, to protect his plan and those he loved. He had managed all of what had been put at his feet until now with a strength and resolution he was forced to find on his own.

And now he let it all go. Even if it meant he'd have to find it all again, he allowed himself this much - to fall into Remus' embrace and let someone else be the strength for once. To let someone else support what Harry had, until that moment, shouldered on his own. Even with Ron and Hermione by his side all this time, there were things even they couldn't provide any support with - things Harry wouldn't let them help with. But now, Harry gave that burden, willingly, to Remus - for just a moment, just enough to gain his strength again.

Or until Remus promised to be right there next to him.

They were perfect words. Words that healed and supported. Words filled with love and care and all that Harry needed at that moment - and had to push away from. They were true, those words, and it was that truth that forced the burden back on Harry.

Remus would be there for him, through everything if he let him - even the things that Harry knew he had to face alone. Even facing Voldemort himself. In that moment, the reality of knowing all he would have to do was ask Remus and he would in fact be there next to him, hit Harry harder than having to Crucio that same man.

Harry's body tensed as he mentally scolded himself for even allowing himself this much, for putting that much on anyone else's shoulders but his own - for putting that much on Remus. It was his burden to bear, and his alone. And if this was what it would take to be sure that burden was carried by Harry to the end - then, it was just one more thing Harry had no choice in.

Leaning back, out of Remus' arms, Harry wiped his eyes on his sleeve and cleared his throat.

"Right. Thanks, Remus. I appreciate that." The sincerity of the words was there, buried behind the the wall Harry started to build - a barrier that would let him do what had to be done, to hurt who needed to be hurt so he could kill who needed to be killed.

"So, when do we start?"

[m4moony]

It was subtle, only a small difference in the way Harry's weight shifted against him, but Remus could feel hen the young man let go. Just for a second. But to someone more used to having people run from him than lean on him, someone who at least suspected how much this young man was shouldering on his own, it was enough.

Then Harry was pulling away, the savior of the wizarding world once more, and Remus stood to give the young man room to collect himself. He couldn't be hurt by the walls going up once again. He was an expert at walls, second only to Severus Snape at keeping others a safe distance from himself.

Still, he could make another useless wish that Harry would be spared the emotional torment Remus had endured.

"We can start on Imperius right now if you're up for it." With the Full Moon in two nights, the werewolf would be at it's fullest strength...and therefore give the highest resistance to the mind control which was geared towards a human mind. It wasn't any substantial protection against the curse, but it would be the most difficult he could make the challenge for Harry.

[broken_harry]

"Yeah, I'm up for it." Harry lied. And not just any small white lie. He would never be up for casting an Unforgivable, any Unforgivable at Remus. The thought alone made him sick to his stomach.

Harry stood and swallowed hard. He couldn't, for the life of him, bring his eyes to meet those of Remus Lupin. Instead he pulled out his wand. Rolling it from one hand to the other, he wiped each palm down the front of his denims to try and get rid of the sudden clamminess that overtook his still shaky hands. It didn't work.

He looked down at his wand with new eyes, looking on the thing that would serve as the tool in hurting someone he loved, in controlling someone he'd never want to exert control over. All so at the end of it all, he could kill something before being killed himself. Harry knew, without a doubt and at that moment, that he was taking the first step towards destruction. Destruction of what, he couldn't quite say. His life? His spirit? His innocense? Probably all three and much more than that.

Harry had never hated the sight of his own wand before that moment, despite all the times he thought back on its brother and what that wand had done. It wasn't the same. This was his wand, matched in make to that of Voldemort, but meant for other things. Good things. Things that would save and mend and set things right. Never once, since that first day of his eleventh year when he walked into Olivander's for the very first time and this wand had chosen him, had Harry ever despised the sight of it - until now. He had never looked on the slender carved piece of wood, knowing what lay inside of it, and thought that that same wand would waver in his hand. Yet, this day, it did just that. It took all the strength Harry had, and quite a bit on loan from the man standing across from him to get Harry to close his grip around the handle.

"I'm ready."