Lupin sighed, leaning against his desk. "Professor Snape doesn't hate you, Harry, I can promise you that," he declared. Harry raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I'm serious. Yes, the history between him and James — and him and Sirius — is… complicated, to say the least. And I don't doubt that Severus uses James' name against you far more often than he should. But you have to understand, cub; when we were younger, it was even harder to be a Slytherin than it is now. Severus' contemporaries were the likes of Avery and Lestrange and Malfoy. Being a Slytherin of particular talents, he was and still is — expected to run in certain circles."
It started to dawn on Harry with a sickening sort of clarity. "Circles that wouldn't like hearing he'd been nice to Harry Potter in class," he finished dully. Lupin grimaced, but nodded.
"He walks a dangerous line. With Dumbledore on one side, and… others waiting in the shadows. He must act as he is expected to act, regardless of his personal feelings on the matter. But I promise you can trust him, Harry. Now more so than ever, if I won't be in the castle. He's a good ally to have." His lips quirked wryly. "I trust him with my life, and he has earned that trust a dozen times over. Regardless of any… issues we may have had as schoolboys." Lupin clapped Harry on the shoulder, squeezing gently. "Does that help to hear?"
"It does, actually. Thank you." Harry had been learning all year about the roles people had to play in public — including the roles he himself was destined to hide behind. Clearly it was all far more complicated than Lupin made it seem; but Harry hadn't expected him to air Snape's personal business to a student, even his cub. Something settled in his chest at the confirmation, though Snape was just keeping up appearances, the same as the rest of them.
Harry could work with that. He was about to ask another question when they were interrupted by a knock on the open door — Professor Dumbledore, looking apologetic. "I'm afraid it's time. Your carriage is at the gates, Remus. I thought I might escort you down." He didn't look entirely thrilled to see Harry in there talking to Lupin, and Harry tried not to glare at the old man.
"I'll come with you," Harry said, daring the headmaster to tell him otherwise.
Lupin sent the last of his things into his trunk with a wave of his wand, then levitated it out of the room, following behind Dumbledore with Harry at his side.
"Why so
glum, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, turning back to him as they walked. "You should be very proud of what you accomplished last night. You saved an innocent man from a terrible fate."
A memory flashed behind Harry's eyes. Trelawney rigid in her chair. Greater and more terrible than ever before. How could he have forgotten? "Professor," he asked, looking up at the headmaster. "Has Professor Trelawney ever made a genuine prediction?"
Dumbledore froze, his eyes going wide and panicked for the briefest of seconds. Harry almost missed it. A blink later, and he was back to his genial self. "Professor Trelawney? Why, I believe she must have made some correct ones, in her time. Why do you ask?" "I think she made one after my Divination exam yesterday. She said Voldemort's servant would set out to return to him before midnight, and he'd help him rise to power." Harry didn't want to tell Dumbledore the exact wording of the prophecy, just in case he knew more than Harry did. All the same, the man looked a little too happy to get news like that. Again, he hid it quickly, but Harry was watching closely enough to see the satisfied smirk whip across the headmaster's face. Beside Harry, Lupin looked grim.
"One thing you'll learn about prophecies, Harry, is that they are inevitable. Nothing you could have done last night would have changed the outcome — if that is what is to come to pass, then that is what will be. You cannot blame yourself for the whims of fate."
"But we have to be ready, if Voldemort is really coming back!" Harry wanted to know if Dumbledore was truly going to keep him docile, tugging him along like a lamb to slaughter. Would he let Harry prepare himself?
"I think that's best left to the adults, don't you, Harry?" Dumbledore replied lightly. "You merely need to worry yourself about enjoying your summer freedom."
When the headmaster wasn't looking, Harry shared a look with Remus. Just what was the old man planning, and why did it involve keeping Harry in the dark with his powers bound in the face of something so dangerous?
At Dumbledore's prompting, Harry said goodbye to Lupin at the Entrance Hall, making no move to suggest their relationship was anything more than student and favoured professor. He watched the pair walk down the drive, the cogs turning in his brain. There were so many secrets, so many things he didn't know. Harry didn't like it.
He wanted to know what Dumbledore was up to, before the man's plans got him killed.
.-.-.
A few days before the end of term, Harry got a letter from Sirius, carried by an owl that looked like a fluffy grey tennis ball.
Dear Harry,
I hope this reaches you before you leave Hogwarts. I have a few doubts about the owl's reliability, but he's the best I could find.
I'm safe. We both are. I won't tell you anything more, just in case, but I'm safe. The dementors are still searching, but they haven't a hope of finding me here. I'm going to let some muggles get a glimpse of me soon, far from Hogwarts. Hopefully they'll lift the security on the castle for next year.
Also, I have a confession to make. I sent you the Firebolt, with a little help from Crookshanks. Think of it as twelve birthdays' worth of presents from your godfather.
I won't say much more, in case this letter gets into the wrong hands. But know I'm thinking of you, and there's a little Maraudering afoot. You'll know more when the time comes. For now, keep your head down, and your ears sharp.
I am enclosing something else for you, which I think will make your next year at Hogwarts more enjoyable.
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