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Author: Gabriella Du Sult Story: Never Give Up Rating: Mature Setting: Pre-HBP Status: WIP Reviews: 3 Words: 63,528
Disclaimer: This story is based on the stories and characters created by J.K. Rowling and I am in no monetary way profiting from it. Thanks again to my beta reader, Baffy, who is both inspiring and inspired. (AN – Ironically, this chapter is all in Harry’s POV. A bit on the talky side – but Fred and George endeavored to keep it light) *~*~*
After the following week’s Order meeting, Remus had come and told Harry that if he still wanted her to, Beatrice would come early next time to tell him stories about Lily. After his argument with Ginny, Harry was prepared to keep Beatrice at a distance on principle. She had given up on Remus and married someone else, after all. Still, he was pleasantly surprised that she had arranged time to talk to him already. Even when he told her he’d like to hear more about his mum – a true sentiment – he imagined her offer was just one of those things adults say and never actually intend to do. The fact that Beatrice was following through on her offer meant a great deal to him. Still, he didn’t want Remus to feel uncomfortable and he had looked so strange when he had told Harry of her offer. "Do you think she really knew my mum very well?" Harry had asked tentatively – wondering if it would be worth it to talk to her. "Well, since Lily was Head Girl during Beatrice’s first year as a Prefect, I think Lily took a big sister attitude towards Bea – and Beatrice did spend a lot of her free time with all of us that year." The look on Remus’s face when referring to the time he went out with Beatrice had given Harry pause. He didn’t want to agree to anything that would cause his friend pain. "Will it be … weird for you having her here talking about that time?" he had asked. "She’s coming to talk to you, Harry, not me," Remus had responded. It didn’t really answer Harry’s question – though he had seemed to understand Harry’s dilemma. "You should know everything you can about both your parents. Don’t worry about me." Harry still had felt doubtful. "Didn’t you know my mum pretty well? You could tell me about her, like you tell me about Dad." Remus had chuckled. "I did know Lily – but there are things girls talk about and know about each other that we blokes are seldom privy to. Sirius used to say, ‘never pass up an opportunity to get a woman’s point of view.’ I suggest you take his advice on this one." Quoting Sirius had convinced Harry, and he found himself eagerly awaiting the next Order meeting, though he had tried to keep his anticipation to himself, especially in Remus’s presence. Ginny Weasley had no such qualms. If Harry was looking forward to Beatrice’s visit, Ginny was practically bursting at the idea. She had participated in house cleaning projects with renewed vigor. She had volunteered to make the pudding for the night of the Order meeting. When she had asked to mend and darn Remus’s clothes, their former professor had started avoiding their company. Harry, feeling a touch guilty and missing Remus’s presence, had finally tracked him down and had confessed that after Beatrice’s first appearance, Ginny had forced him to tell her all he knew of the woman. "And what did you tell her?" Remus had asked. "Well, I couldn’t tell her much, could I?" Harry had responded almost accusingly. "Just that you went out at Hogwarts and stopped writing to her afterwards. She was pretty peeved at you about that, by the way." ‘And me by extension,’ he silently added. "Yes, well, she’s in good company. I seem to remember a lecture or two from your mother on that score." "At least Mum knew what she was talking about," Harry had muttered, thinking again how Ginny had sided so quickly with Beatrice even though she was a virtual stranger. "Yes," Remus had agreed with a sigh. "More so than I realized." His wistful tone had made Harry wonder if he had made the right decision. It was too late for him to cancel, so instead he had taken advantage of Remus’s lowered guard on the subject to press him about Beatrice under the veil of his conversation with Ginny. "I also told Ginny that Beatrice was married – but she didn’t want to believe it. She seemed to think Beatrice might still fancy you." "Well, that explains the sudden interest in fixing my clothes," Remus had said with an amused sigh. "Harry, I assure you – and you may tell Ginny – Kingsley Shacklebolt went to the engagement party. She definitely is married." Remus’s tone had turned harder and Harry could tell the subject was closed. When Beatrice arrived just as they were finishing up supper on Monday, Harry couldn’t contain a mental leap of excitement. It was Ginny who literally leapt and bounded quietly (after Mrs. Weasley reminded her about Mrs. Black’s portrait) up the stairs to meet her. She practically dragged Beatrice into the kitchen. "You’re just in time for pudding. I made it!" Ginny exclaimed. Beatrice looked around the table at Harry, Remus and the quorum of Weasleys and her face fell. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your family time – I thought it was late enough…" Mrs. Weasley was already in action. "Nonsense – there’s plenty to go around – and all Order members are family." Beatrice’s expression turned to a slightly embarrassed yet pleased smile. "Well, I suppose I could manage a little pudding," she capitulated, seating herself where Bill had made a space for her at the opposite end of the table from Remus. Harry could see that the eldest Weasley was looking alertly between the two, and he got the impression that Bill might know more than anyone else at the table about what was going on. Not that there was anybody at the table who didn’t know that something was going on. The air practically crackled. Remus stood almost the instant Beatrice settled into place. "I’m sorry, Molly, Arthur, I’m quite exhausted – you’ll excuse me, won’t you?" "Oh, but, Remus, the meeting," Molly began to protest. "I’ll come back down for it," he assured her. "I just have a very trying couple of days coming up and I think it’s best if I conserve my energy." Mrs. Weasley looked taken aback and more than a little chagrined that she had forced Remus to speak even remotely openly about his condition. Seeing his wife temporarily speechless and embarrassed, Mr. Weasley took her hand and patted it lovingly. "Of course, Remus, very sensible," he agreed. "We’ll see you later tonight. Shall we send someone to fetch you when the meeting’s ready to begin?" "That won’t be necessary, thank you, Arthur," Remus answered. "I’ll see you later, excuse me." As Remus left the kitchen, Harry stole a glance at Beatrice. She was staring at her plate looking pensive and uncomfortable, and strangely young and vulnerable – like the 15-year-old girl she was who "accidentally" dropped her books in front of the boy she fancied just to strike up a conversation. Suddenly, she brought her hands up to her face and groaned into them, "Blue moon!" Bill looked at her sharply. "You keep track of those, do you?" She looked up at him, her cheeks turning pink at his piercing gaze. "Not as well as I used to," she admitted. "It doesn’t just affect werewolves, you know. Full moons are often associated with certain ceremony and ritual and Blue Moons have a lot of real and ridiculous traditions associated with them. People are always coming into St. Mungo’s on the night of the Blue Moon having hurt themselves doing some crazy thing to get rich or get a promotion or get…well, other things." "Laid," Fred muttered to George knowingly – wisely out of Molly’s hearing, but not Ron’s – as he blushed fiercely at the suggestion. Harry could feel warmth in his own face. "Anyway," Beatrice continued rapidly, having also heard Fred’s aside, "I’m working the night shift tomorrow, so I’m in for an interesting night." "Maybe you should be getting some rest too," Bill suggested. "Oh no – I had the day off and had a lie in this morning. Besides, I’ve been looking forward to telling Harry a little about Lily." She looked at him directly then. "If you still want to?" Harry felt his heart jump eagerly in his chest at the idea of hearing about his mum. "Yeah," he replied laconically, intending to finish his pudding but leaving the spoon in the bowl instead. Beatrice looked around the kitchen and then back at Harry. "Is there someplace you’d like to go or is here…" "Oh we’ll leave you alone here," Mrs. Weasley interrupted her. "You two relax and finish your pudding." Harry realized that both women were giving him the opportunity to have this moment in private. It was a sensitive and generous gesture and as a generally private person, Harry really appreciated it. Then he noticed the crestfallen look on Ginny’s face and heard Ron protesting to his mother, who was collecting plates and gesturing for everyone to stand up. "But, Mum, I haven’t finished my pudding!" Harry realized that he wanted them to stay – that he had never had a family to share things with before and that was what he had always wanted, more than anything. "No – stay," he stammered out. "Everyone – please stay." "Are you sure?" Mrs. Weasley asked, looking hesitant, but in a way as eager as Ginny. "Yes," Harry said more firmly. "I want you to." Mrs. Weasley sat down and smiled. "Well," she agreed almost shyly, "maybe for a little bit." Harry looked away from her smiling face in embarrassment, only to find himself basking in an adoring look of gratitude from Ginny. He looked from her quickly too, before he broke out in a telling blush and met with an amused and somehow approving look from Beatrice. She turned from him before he could feel another wave of embarrassment and looked around in a conspiratorial way. "We’re all Gryffindors here I trust?" she asked with raised eyebrows. "Of course," Mrs. Weasley confirmed with a proud huff. "Good – then about the best and worst thing I could ever say about James Potter is that he was about as utterly Gryffindor as a bloke could possibly be. You know – brave to the point of rash stupidity, stubbornly dense when it came to… well, when it came to the really important things." Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were nodding knowingly, Mr. Weasley and Bill were grinning almost sheepishly and Ron and the twins let out little ‘Ois!’ of protest. Harry wasn’t sure which camp he was in – though he was certain he wasn’t in on whatever womanly secret Beatrice, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley seemed to be sharing. "What about Gryffindor women?" he asked, wanting to get back on track to his mum. "Oh, they’re stubborn too," Bill pronounced immediately, ignoring the annoyed scowls from his mother and sister. Beatrice only laughed at the teasing accusation. "That’s an understatement," she agreed cheerfully. "The lion is our symbol after all, and while the males may at first be the more fearsome to behold, it’s the lioness who is the more deadly. Lily was no exception in that department – plus she had a Gryffindor woman’s temper in spades." "It’s not just the women who have tempers," Ginny muttered half-defensively, half-accusingly, or so it seemed to Harry. He wondered if she was thinking of their argument a couple weeks earlier and felt all too aware of his own temper. "True," Beatrice was responding to Ginny’s comment, "but when the men lose their temper it’s usually just a lot of smoke that dissipates quickly without any real fire behind it. We women are much more dangerous when our tempers flare." "You don’t look like you have much of a temper," Harry observed. Beatrice laughed again. "Oh, Harry, you barely know me. My mother always called me her ‘little volcano.’ I’m always calm and serene looking until right before I blow. In my case, it’s usually an ineffectual and embarrassing mess when I do – that’s the pitfall of an explosive temper. Still, it’s unhealthy not to let it out – I just wish I could channel it better. Even as a schoolgirl, your mum could focus her ire. Lily Evans angry was a force to be reckoned with." "Yeah." Harry couldn’t keep the glumness out of his voice. He recalled Snape’s Pensieve and his mother railing at his father. "Don’t sound so sad about it!" Beatrice admonished. "It was a wonderful thing to see Lily in action. She was two years ahead of me and before we were friends I idolized her – in the ‘she’s so beautiful and brilliant and good I may kill myself’-way that young girls do." Ginny snorted and Beatrice turned towards her with a grin. "You know what I’m talking about I see. Who’s that girl for you?" Ginny shifted uncomfortably under the interested and expectant gazes from around the table. Harry couldn’t help but be among them. He wondered what sort of girl Ginny would admire when she had so many qualities to be admired. "You don’t have to answer that," Beatrice retracted her question, noticing Ginny’s discomfort. Ginny jutted out her chin in that defiant way she had and then glanced at Ron and the twins with a mischievous glint. "No, I can answer. I reckon I’d love to be as beautiful as the Patil twins, or as fashionable as Alicia Spinnet or really brilliant like Hermione – but for the whole package, I’d have to say Angelina Johnson." Harry watched Beatrice look from Ron, whose ears went bright red at the mention of Hermione’s name to Fred, who smiled broadly and nudged George at the mention of Angelina’s. "Oi!" Bill exclaimed jokingly, "What about Fleur?" Ginny rolled her eyes. "Well sure she’s gorgeous – but back at the Triwizard Tournament, she couldn’t even handle a Grindylow. Anyway, she doesn’t go to school with us." "You could have at least mentioned her," Bill chided in his teasing big brother tone. "Of course," Ginny added grinning at Bill slyly, "she does have the best taste in men." Bill grinned back at her. "Cheers, sis," he said while the remaining brothers present protested loudly. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were chuckling and smiling at their children indulgently. "It sounds like an impressive group of young women," Beatrice said. "But I expect there are some younger Gryffindor girls wishing they could be more like Ginny Weasley." Harry silently agreed and enjoyed Ginny’s blush at the suggestion. She snorted in protest and shook her head. "I’ll never be tall and willowy." Why would any girl want to be tall and willowy? Harry wondered. He recalled the very tall fifth year who had asked him to the Yule Ball with an inner shudder. Beatrice chuckled. "Well, there’s always something we want that we can’t have, isn’t there? Anyway, from my first year, Lily Evans was always the girl I wanted to be like and be liked by. It wasn’t until my third year and her fifth that I was able to help her in a small way. That was the first time I ever really saw how determined and single-minded Lily could be when she was angry." "What made her mad?" Harry asked, with a certain dread that his father had something to do with it. "Well, to begin with, early in the first term of her fifth year it got around Gryffindor Tower that Lily still slept with a stuffed toy," Beatrice started to explain. "She had just been made Prefect and was mortified that everyone knew – she felt no one would take her seriously…" "I wouldn’t," sniggered George to Fred, not quite as quietly as his twin’s earlier aside. "George!" Mrs. Weasley scolded. Beatrice smiled at him. "Yes, well – I suppose she had reason to be worried – about the boys, anyway." She looked back at Harry and raised an ironic brow. "Your dad and his gang were particularly amused by the whole thing – they never missed the opportunity to tease Lily about her stuffed deer." "A…deer?" Harry croaked, exchanging a look with Ron, who was the only one present whom Harry had told his father’s Animagus form. Beatrice was gazing at the chair Remus had vacated with the light of reminiscence in her eye. "Well – a faun, really. It was some silly thing she pestered her parents to buy her after seeing a Muggle film from America. Much later she told me she finally got it on the same day as her Hogwarts letter." "So she had a stuffed deer because she liked some film and it reminded her of being accepted to Hogwarts?" he asked. "I suppose. Still, it’s one thing to have a stuffed animal in your first year – it’s quite another when you’re a fifth year and a prefect, and everyone is apparently laughing at you." Like his dad, Harry thought dejectedly. He remembered how the twins had harassed Percy and Ron about their Prefect’s badges and never had listened to anything Hermione had said last year. He had always thought it was kind-of funny, but putting it in terms of his parents took all the humor out of it. "Did anyone ever listen to her after that?" he asked miserably. "Of course," Beatrice answered, her eyes twinkled reassuring him. "She did eventually become Head Girl and I said she was a force to be reckoned with, didn’t I? Anyway, things weren’t nearly as bad as she imagined." "What do you mean?" Harry could tell Beatrice was working up to something and was intrigued to get to what she obviously considered the good part. "Well, for one thing, I wasn’t the only girl in Gryffindor who idolized Lily – when the rumor first leaked those of us who didn’t already have one with us were owling home for their mothers to send them their favorite stuffed toy." "What did you send for?" Ginny asked. Beatrice grinned at them. "Just a stuffed spotted owl – but I didn’t have to send for it – just dig it out from the bottom of my trunk." Ginny grinned back at Beatrice, who turned to Harry with a wink, bringing a grin to his face too. "Anyway, Lily was able to assert her authority a week or so later when Bambi disappeared." "Bambi? Who’s Bambi?" Ron asked looking confused. "That was her deer’s name. She turned all of Gryffindor – from Fourth year down anyway – into a fine-tuned search unit – boys included – by then they had realized that making fun of girls with stuffed toys was not a good idea, seeing as we all had them. We went over the castle and grounds from top to bottom – every inch on a schedule designed by Lily. It was actually Kingsley Shacklebolt who found the poor thing tied to the center goal at the North end of the Quidditch Pitch." "It was on the Pitch?" Harry asked, suddenly having a sinking feeling he knew what was coming. "Naturally. It was the general consensus in the tower that James and his gang were somehow responsible. The real mystery was how he got it out of the girls’ dormitories. You probably know there are safeguards preventing the boys admittance, so he would have had to had an accomplice – but none of us seemed likely candidates." Harry started to have his own suspicions about that. "Crookshanks goes into the girls’ dormitories all the time," he said, thinking out loud. "Who’s Crookshanks?" Beatrice asked with a puzzled look. "Hermione’s cat," Ron answered meeting Harry’s gaze with an intense look. Harry got the feeling he was following his own train of thought. Beatrice’s eyebrows rose. "Brilliant Hermione?" she asked teasingly, exchanging another grin with Ginny when Ron blushed. "What does that have to do with your mother’s missing toy?" "The ban on boys in the girls’ dorms doesn’t apply to animals." Harry said. "Harry, d’you suppose Sirius…?" Ron started to ask. Harry nodded. "Maybe even Wormtail, he was smaller," he said, hating the idea of the betrayer anywhere near his mum’s bed. Ron made a face and Harry realized he was thinking that as ‘Scabbers,’ Peter had the run of Gryffindor tower for almost three years, longer if you counted his time as Percy’s pet. "I’m afraid you’ve lost me," Beatrice admitted. "Isn’t ‘Wormtail’ what your Dad and his friends called Peter Pettigrew?" "They were Animagi." Harry said, realizing that everyone here had seen Sirius transform and the Weasleys all had to know the true identity of Scabbers the rat by now. It wasn’t as if it was a big secret to be kept anymore. "They all became Animagi at school because of Remus – to be with him during his transformations." Beatrice’s expression turned soft and wistful. "They did?" "Yeah. Wormtail was a rat – that’s how he escaped when…." Harry stopped talking suddenly as the emotions of what he was saying caught up with the actual words. "He turned into a rat," he said hoarsely. "Peter is a rat Animagus?" Beatrice asked softly, putting a comforting hand on Harry’s. "How bizarrely appropriate. Now, what were the other nicknames?" She tilted her head back and closed her eyes thoughtfully. "They called Remus, ‘Moony’ which is obviously a full moon reference, I figured that one out ages ago. Sirius was something about his feet…Padfoot?" She opened her eyes and looked at Harry questioningly. He nodded affirmation; watching her dig through her memories of the Marauders seemed to make them even more real than Remus’s stories of their antics. As if someone outside the group remembering them validated their existence. "Padfoot…an animal with padded feet" Beatrice pondered out loud. "Not another wolf, because what are the odds? Plus, Sirius lacked the gravitas of a wolf. He was loyal to his pack – but more playful…a dog?" This time when she looked at Harry he smiled. "A big black one… looked like the Grimm, he did," Ron commented over a mouthful of food. "He probably relished that," Beatrice observed, then she frowned. "I can’t remember what they called James. Once they started going out, Lily always called him James, but the lads – why can’t I remember?" "Prongs," Harry said quietly. "Prongs! Yes! That’s right –Prongs," Beatrice cried, obviously recognizing the name once she heard it. "I’m at a total loss as to what that might mean," she admitted. "He was a stag," Harry said, watching Beatrice carefully as he delivered the punch line to her own story. Her eyes widened and she burst out laughing. "More than twenty years later it all suddenly makes so much more sense to me!" she exclaimed. "James was a deer and Lily was sleeping with a deer. No wonder he nicked it!" "Is that why she hated him so much in fifth year?" Harry asked. "Because he stole her toy and teased her about it?" Beatrice frowned at him. "Who said she hated him?" Harry felt flushed. He couldn’t very well explain about Snape’s Pensieve in front of everyone, especially not Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. "I may have overheard someone say they used to argue a lot back then," he said in a lame attempt to explain. "Oh, well arguing isn’t always an indication of hate – sometimes quite the opposite," Beatrice explained with offhand assurance. "Lily was extremely angry at him after the Bambi heist – but not much more than usual. Your father was the ultimate Gryffindor male, remember." She nudged him with a teasing smile. "He was a right prat in those days and often did the most idiotic things. Lily had a very low tolerance for that – especially where James was concerned." "She didn’t like to see him waste his potential, did she?" Mrs. Weasley chipped in knowingly. "Exactly right, Molly," Beatrice agreed with a smile. "And James definitely had potential. Plus, there’s one other thing I should mention about the whole Bambi incident. Strangely enough, despite the fact that half of Gryffindor was out in force searching the grounds for the thing – none of the other houses knew what was going on or ever seemed to have heard anything about Lily’s little friend. Now, why do you suppose that is?" Harry shrugged, not understanding what this had to do with his parents’ always arguing. "Someone made sure every Gryffindor knew that if they spoke a word of it, they would be hexed into oblivion. Someone who looked an awful lot like you," she said matter-of-factly. "But…" Harry stammered, not knowing if he could believe what she was telling him but wanting to very much, "you told me he teased her about it the most." "He was fifteen, Harry – and from what you just told me, he had very good reason to tease. But your house is your family at Hogwarts," she said, reminding him of his first Sorting. "You may find a kindred spirit or two outside your house – but you never, never betray a member of your house to another. James was ready to punish without prejudice – male or female, first year or seventh. In fact, I seem to remember hearing Lily caught him dangling a fourth year girl in the air by her ankles. She had been about to tell her Ravenclaw cousin the whole sordid tale. He never told Lily why he did it and she gave him holy hell – I wonder if she ever found out the truth?" Harry wondered too. Certainly the way she yelled at him about hexing anyone he could in the corridors didn’t indicate she had by the end of that year. And he still couldn’t figure out why his dad would tease her and yet go out of his way to protect her. "Love isn’t always black and white, Harry," Beatrice said, as if she sensed his inner confusion. "Your dad didn’t always do things the way she would have preferred, but he was awfully persistent in the courtship of your mother. I know Lily secretly loved the fact that James never gave up asking her out no matter how many times she said no. It was how she knew he would eventually be there when she needed him to be." Beatrice looked wistful for a moment. She seemed to shake out of her reverie to smile at Harry. "I wouldn’t worry about the fact that they argued. Don’t forget our Gryffindor tempers. A man like James needed a woman like Lily to stand up to him and bring out the best in him. Everyone at Hogwarts back then could see they were meant to be together." "So you believe in that sort of thing?" the girl who was always standing up to Harry lately piped up. "What sort of thing?" Beatrice asked. "Two people being meant for each other – destiny in love – that sort of thing," Ginny clarified. She was looking at Beatrice intently, as if something very important hinged on her answer. Harry noticed that while the twins and Ron just rolled their eyes at each other, Bill cocked his head towards Beatrice and looked almost as interested in what she might say as Ginny was. "Oh," Beatrice said with a knowing nod. "That sort of thing. Well, I certainly believed it most of my time at Hogwarts." "But not now?" Ginny pressed. Beatrice eyed her warily and looked questioningly across the table to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Harry wasn’t sure what she was asking them, but Mrs. Weasley seemed to understand as she nodded at Beatrice, took her husband’s hand and smiled at him adoringly. Beatrice smiled at them, but her eyes held an emotion that sparked a pang of familiarity in Harry – a combination of envy and longing, with a hint of regret. "Well," she began to answer Ginny with slow deliberate words. "I admit that I went through a very cynical period where I didn’t believe in any of it – true love wasn’t real, or at least, only happened on rare occasions. I outgrew that, thank goodness. Now, I suppose I believe there’s probably more than one person out there that can make you happy – for most people anyway. Then there’s probably one person who can make you happiest. I think what mucks things up for so many people is that they think ‘happily ever after’ means ‘effortlessly ever after.’ I expect even living life with your soul mate takes work and has some glitches. If you find that one person – if you know who he is – then you should be willing to put in the work and do everything it takes to be with him. Erm… once you’re of age, of course" "I couldn’t have said it better myself," Mrs. Weasley agreed, standing to collect the dishes. Mr. Weasley stood to help without being told. Beatrice turned to Harry. "So don’t worry about hearing Lily and James had the odd disagreement in school, or even after. Think about it. Would you want to be with someone who always agreed with you? How boring would that be, a life with no arguments?" Harry thought about his argument with Ginny again and the subsequent discussion with Ron. "Plus, you’d never get to have all the great make-up…" "Fred!" "…Snogging," George finished his twin’s statement more or less harmlessly after Mrs. Weasley clapped a hand over his mouth. Still, even Harry knew what Fred was really alluding to – and judging by the various degrees of blushes, amused and shocked expressions around the table, so did everyone else. From the heat in his face, he judged he was on the blushing side of the group. Beatrice leaned towards him to conspiratorially whisper, "Never a dull moment in this family, is there?" As if to answer her question, a large crash sounded from the front door upstairs, followed by screaming from the portrait of Mrs. Black. "Sorry, sorry!" yelled out Tonks’s familiar voice. "Oh, Tonks," sighed Mrs. Weasley wearily putting the dishes in the sink before hurrying out the kitchen after Bill, who had jumped up at the first clatter. Mr. Weasley followed more slowly, issuing directions to the rest of them. "Fred, George, you go and help Bill with that portrait, would you?" He turned to Harry and the others, with an almost apologetic look. "It seems the others are arriving so…" "Right," Harry said, pushing back from his own seat. "We’ll go and get Remus on our way up." "I think he’s probably aware – what with all the noise," Ron said, though he also stood. "Don’t be thick, Ron!" Ginny hissed. "What?" he asked as Ginny grabbed his wrist and the three left the kitchen. In addition to Tonks, the new arrivals included Mad-Eye and Kingsley Shacklebolt. As Ron suggested, Remus was up and about. It looked as if he, and not the twins, helped Bill close the curtain over Mrs. Black’s portrait. He turned from that job to Harry. "Did you have a nice talk?" he asked. Harry suddenly felt a new wave of guilt. Remus’s tone was pleasant enough – but there was a haunted look about his eyes. Harry recalled how abruptly Remus had left the kitchen earlier. He wondered again if his eagerness to hear about his mum from Beatrice had been hard on his friend and former professor. "It was ok," he finally admitted. "She told us about the great Bambi hunt," Ginny announced, coming up behind Harry. "You wouldn’t know how it ended up on the Quidditch Pitch, would you?" Ginny’s cheek seemed to snap Remus out of his slight melancholy. His eyes danced and he grinned at her. "It’s one of the great mysteries of Hogwarts." Harry found himself longing to ask more questions. How did they find out about the stuffed deer? Did his dad spy on his mum in bed? Who stole it? Did his mum ever find out how his dad kept the rumor from spreading? He opened his mouth to start a barrage of questions when the front door opened again. Harry looked towards it along with everyone else. The newest arrival was much quieter than Tonks, but much less welcome as far as Harry was concerned. His very presence made the whole house gloomier. "Snape," muttered Ron bitterly, his tone matching Harry’s thoughts. Remus put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. When Harry looked at him, he saw understanding there. "Go on up. We’ll talk more later." Harry started after Ginny and Ron, but paused to look over his shoulder. Remus was approaching Snape who was handing him a smoking flask with a sour expression on his face. Remus kept the typically genial expression he plastered on his face when dealing with Snape and accepted the offering with a quiet, "Thank you, Severus." Then, for some reason, Harry let his gaze shift to the other side of the entry hall. There, standing at the top of the stairs that lead down to the kitchen, was Beatrice. She was frowning at the exchange between Remus and Snape. Harry remembered the first time he had seen Snape give Remus Wolfsbane Potion, though he didn’t know what it was at the time. He had thought Snape might poison Remus to get his job. Even now, he wouldn’t put it past Snape to do something to the potion that would cause Remus discomfort – judging from the look on Beatrice’s face, she didn’t trust Snape any more than he did. "Oi, Harry – let’s go before Mum sees us," Ron urged him. Harry sighed and followed Ron to the sitting room with many disconnected thoughts buzzing round his head.
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