Coming Soon in A Year Like None Other:
Chapter Fourteen: Remus
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Comments most appreciated,
Aspen in the Sunlight
Chapter 14: Remus
http://archive.skyehawke.com/story.php?no=5036&chapter=14
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A Year Like None Other
by Aspen in the Sunlight
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Chapter Fourteen: Remus
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Harry woke up in a room that was eerily familiar, though it was far less grimy than the last time he'd seen it. What was he doing here, in Sirius' bedroom at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place? Harry groaned out loud, rolled over onto his side, and pulled his legs up toward his chest. He closed his eyes, but it seemed like he could still make out the sight of the room bathed in hazy, pre-dawn light.
"Harry?" Remus' familiar voice asked at once.
He kept his eyes clenched shut. "Get me out of here, all right? I'm not sure what you thought you were doing, bringing me here of all places, but get me out!"
"I didn't bring you here," Remus answered. "Severus did."
"Severus?" Harry uncurled and awkwardly sat up on the double bed, balancing himself on one bent leg as he stared at Remus. "What do you mean, Severus!"
"He's downstairs," Remus explained, "but I'll call him if you like--"
"Hold up," Harry ordered, flushing as he heard how rudely the words had emerged. "I mean, you aren't . . ." It came to him rather belatedly that with Polyjuice Potion, anybody could impersonate Remus, so he'd better watch what he said. "Um, when you were at Hogwarts, where'd you used to go at a particular time each month?"
"Oh, Harry," Remus laughed, but when the boy's expression remained fixed, he murmured, "The Shrieking Shack."
Still suspicious, Harry went on, "What does mischief managed mean?"
"It wipes the Marauder's Map clean. Really, Harry!"
"Oh, okay," Harry conceded. "I guess you're you. So Severus . . . er, I mean Professor Snape is downstairs? Is he back to his usual self?"
"I wouldn't say that," Lupin replied. "Oh, the Polyjuice has worn off, if that's what you're asking. But he's . . . a bit unsettled, we'll say."
Harry looked around the room again, and started shivering. "Well get him up here, will you?"
"Harry," Remus quietly said as he stood up from the bed. "We will solve this, all right? We will."
That was when Harry remembered the graveyard, and Uncle Vernon, and hex after hex that had refused to flow through him and into his wand. He looked up, green eyes wide and slightly wild as the truth twisted his stomach into tight knots. "I've lost my magic, haven't I?"
"We will solve it," Remus repeated. "Let me get Severus for you."
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Harry sort of goggled when his other teacher did come up; he didn't think he'd ever seen Snape in casual clothes before. Well, except once when a boggart had impersonated him, but that hardly counted. Now, the Potions Master was wearing dark grey trousers and a Slytherin green turtleneck sweater. The look could have worked if worn with robes, he supposed, but without? It just wasn't Snape.
"We were premature to think you had recovered," Snape opened the conversation, standing stiffly in the doorway as though reluctant to draw any closer to Harry. "You were unconscious for several hours before you began to truly sleep, which facts strongly indicate that you still need to heal."
"Not to mention that I tried about ten, twelve hexes on Uncle Vernon," Harry muttered. "They didn't even make him twitch, and they sure didn't stop him from coming. It was like he knew I couldn't catch hold of my magic any longer!"
"He was simply angry."
Harry gave a half-hysterical laugh. "Does it count against the Decree if the curses you try to throw don't fly anywhere? Not that it matters if they break my wand, not now. It's not much use to me, is it?"
Remus' soft tones broke in. "Harry, you know better than anyone that you're allowed to use magic in self-defence."
"Yeah, I know," Harry admitted. "I just can't believe this is happening to me. I mean, what the hell is wrong? Wizards don't just lose their powers!"
"Obviously, the bone marrow extraction has affected your level of magical control," Snape brusquely explained, and at Harry's intent look, added, "Yes, yes, Lupin knows everything. He has to, as you'll be staying here with him until the situation is resolved."
Harry's eyes bugged out. "Here? I can't stay here!"
"Where else should we safeguard you?" Snape inquired, a little of his old sneering tone evident. "You will never return to Privet Drive, and Hogwarts is quite out of the question."
"Hogwarts sounds good to me," Harry staunchly replied. "I have to get back to my classes."
Snape made a snarling noise reminiscent of Remus in his wolf-form. "Have you gone completely daft, Potter? At the moment, as far as we can tell, you have no powers! Yet you propose to resume attendance at an institution where almost every class session requires you to utilize active magic? How long do you suppose you can you conceal your condition from your classmates?"
"Ron and Hermione would never tell a soul--"
"Merlin spare me from simpleminded idiots!" Snape exclaimed. "Not everyone at Hogwarts is a simpering, sycophantic Gryffindor just itching to keep your secrets! You share lessons with Draco Malfoy several times a week in your programme, do you not? Do you suppose it will escape his notice that you can no longer perform the simplest spell or charm?"
Harry hadn't realised he'd been holding his breath until he let it out. "Oh. I get it, I think. You're worried about Voldemort finding out."
"Brilliant deduction, Mr Potter," Snape sneered.
"Now really, Severus, you and I have had several hours to reason this all out," Remus broke in. "Be fair."
"Ah, Gryffindors and fairness," came the contemptuous reply. Snape did seem to calm after that, however. Stepping further into the room, he continued speaking to Harry. "The Dark Lord would like nothing better than to see you dead. You have bested him, Mr Potter, a fact which he can hardly endure. Should he learn that you are currently defenceless, he will shove hell itself aside to get to you. Hogwarts, for all its ancient protections, has been far from safe for you, in the past. Only your vast capacity for magic, along with a great deal of luck, has kept your skin intact!"
"All right, all right, I understand," Harry bit out. Geez, he could have stopped after the first sentence; he didn't have to treat him like a complete dunce. "I don't like it, in fact I pretty well hate it, but I suppose you're right. Number Twelve Grimmauld Place is probably the safest place for me. Unplottable, location only able to be revealed by a Secret Keeper, who happens to be the only wizard Voldemort's ever feared! All right, all right? I get it!"
"He sounds distressed," Lupin commented under his breath.
"What do you expect?" Harry exclaimed. "Sirius loathed this place! He hated being cooped up here, with nobody for company but that screeching portrait of a mother who despised him, and the most disloyal house-elf in the history of wizardry!" An ugly light made Harry's eyes blaze iridescent, and when he next spoke, his voice was cold and calculating. "Where is Kreacher, anyway?"
"Kreacher's dead," Remus announced.
"Is his head mounted on the wall?" Harry sneered, hands clenching with disappointment. He'd wanted to kill the little shite himself. Yeah, wring his neck until his eyes bulged and popped out of his skull, then twist the head off and give it a good hard kick, over and over until it was nothing but a bloody, pulpy mass.