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As the two days between Remus's transformation passed, his condition worsened, and at one point he had to be hospitalized before the transformation, something that had never happened before. Harry knew it was his fault, because changes in time, even tweaks, would leave the lunar schedule all messed up, and so spent a lot of his time visiting the bedridden werewolf, worried about how pale he had become.
It was on one such visit that James pulled Harry aside, saying, "Harry? Come here for a second."
Heart pounding, Harry walked over to his younger father, but the words James said weren't the ones he had wanted to hear. Instead of explaining the truth, he whispered, "I think Remus has to be taken out of Hogwarts to be cured. I'm sure after St. Mungos is finished healing him, he'll be good as new, but he'll be gone tonight. We're planning on going with him. Sorry, but only the three of us can go, and-"
"It's all right," Harry responded quickly, covering his hurt just barely. "I had plans tonight with Lily anyways." At the look James gave him, Harry shook his head and relied, "No, nothing like that. She's just helping me out with a complex potion. It's fine, I hope Remus's well soon. See you tomorrow." And left.
And as Sirius watched him leave through the swinging doors, he knew what James didn't; while James and Peter were high-fiving their success at keeping Harry from suspecting them while not getting him hurt, he knew it wouldn't do to leave Harry on these terms. He was obviously hurt and hiding it, and leaving him alone on a night like this didn't feel right.
Especially since Lily tutored every Wednesday night, and there was no way she was tutoring Harry, who was nearly smarter than Remus.
"Padfoot?" James asked in question, as he looked at Sirius's face, the smile slowly turning into a concerned frown.
"Huh?" When he realized that Remus, James, and Peter were staring at him in confusion and concern, he continued to say, "Oh, right. You guys go ahead, I have a few things to finish up. I'll be there later on."
"Sirius-" James began scolding, but Remus cut him off with,
"I understand. You go finish things up, we'll see you later." His words were a clear indicator that he knew what Sirius was going to do, and was encouraging him to do so. Sighing, Sirius left his friends, who were arguing and scolding Remus for letting Sirius get away with skipping out on him, and tried instead to concentrate on everything he needed to know.
He wasn't sure what he would say when he found Harry, because he had never been good with words or emotions, but finding him would feel better than losing him. And Sirius was pretty sure that if he let Harry walk away hurt like he was, and feeling alone, Harry would become cold, and closed off to them like he had been when he had first come.
Finding Harry wasn't that difficult, to his surprise. He simply went to wherever Remus went when he needed to think undisturbed, (though because Sirius knew where this was, he could no longer sit there undisturbed,) the bridge. It overlooked a lot of the grounds, and was always hushed up and silent. (Unless Sirius wanted to get Remus out of his melancholy mood, in which case the hall became incredibly loud.) The perfect place to think.
But unless you'd been to Hogwarts for a while, you wouldn't know how to get there.
This left Sirius wondering how Harry knew exactly how to get to this bridge. Obvious places to think, like the lake, grounds, common room, would've been understandable. They were easy to find. But how had he found his way here, and so quickly?
And then Sirius wondered why he had checked here for Harry first, even though Harry probably wouldn't have known his way here and Sirius hadn't went here in forever. This place hadn't even crossed his mind…
"Hi Sirius," a quiet voice said. Raising an eyebrow, Sirius replied,
"Hey, Harry. How did you know it was me?"
"You walk too loudly. I don't think you could go more than a few moments with silence." That was true enough. The walkway walls echoed, and his footsteps were heavy. It stood to reason that it was him.
"But how did you find this place?" He asked, watching his friend's face carefully for any reaction.
"I dunno. I walked, and this is where I ended up." Harry replied, carefully keeping his face blank. He had only been here once, in his third year, when Lupin, (from his own time,) had shown him this stop to talk in. (I know that this isn't in the book, but it's in the movie. You know, the part when Lupin says, "you're more like them than you know". Work with me here.) He had said that no one ever came here, so they couldn't be disturbed. Of course, he had also said that only his best friends had ever found him while hiding here. Why hadn't he realized that Sirius would know how to get here?
"But that doesn't make sense." Sirius argued, startling him out of his musings. "I mean, if you've never been here, you wouldn't know how to get here…and how would you have gotten back?"
"Well…" thinking back, he remembered his godfather once saying to him, `I swear, those walls have ears. There's no other way we could've gotten caught during half of our pranks. That castle has a mind of it's own.' "A friend who went here once told me that this castle has a mind of it's own."
"Not possible." Sirius argued. "I mean, the walls only act the way they do because of enchantments put on them forever ago."
"Explain the staircases."
"More charms."
"And the Room of Requirement?"
"The what?" and Harry was brutally reminded that the man he was talking to, standing next to him bickering like a longtime friend, wasn't his godfather. This man wouldn't be his godfather for a while.
"Nothing."
Sirius could tell that this room Harry had mentioned was something to check into, (just the name gave that away,) but he wouldn't push it now. Harry's mood seemed to have darkened even more, and they weren't there to talk about any magic in a room. If Hogwarts did have a mind of it's own, it probably had eyes too. He wasn't about to mess up.
And if he wasn't going to mess up, he wasn't going to talk. Not until he had to, and was sure of what he was going to say.
The sun began to set, and Sirius realized that nearly an hour had gone by since he had left to look for Harry, and still neither of them had said anything. The cold was making his nose and cheeks burn, and Remus would be transforming soon, but it still didn't feel right leaving. If he didn't hurry, they'd see Remus being led out to the willow, and Harry would be hurting worse because of that story. He'd know, then that it wasn't true.
Finally, Sirius just out and asked, "Harry, what's wrong?"
Harry was about to reply what he always had, but found that he couldn't. The words couldn't make it passed the lump in his throat as he stared at the place the whole event that led up to meeting Sirius three years ago; the Whomping Willow.
"You just remind me of someone, that's all. I keep forgetting that you aren't him, and every time I realize that you aren't him, I remember that he's dead…I came here to try and get past all of that, by coming to find him."
"But you just said that he was dead."
"I mean find his memory." Harry corrected, cursing himself. "I need to be able to move on. But so much has happened to me lately…I feel like I don't have time to mourn. In the time that I do have to mourn, I can't. I can't even get over the fact that he's dead, so getting over him is a bit of a problem."
Sirius frowned. He had never lost someone before, so he couldn't relate, but what Harry had said hadn't sounded right to him. "Well, who ever said you had to give him up, or let him go?"
"He's gone." Harry replied, bleakly.
"Well, yes, but letting go of him…I mean, isn't that a bit harsh? You can hold on to his memory, right?"
"What?"
Sirius couldn't blame him for asking. That hadn't even made sense to him. "I just mean that you going after him, or his memory, or whatever it is you're trying to find, isn't probably that way to go about it. I mean, he probably doesn't want you moping over him, all cold and mistrusting like you are. And mulling over him, and how great he was, and how you could've helped him, isn't going to help you, or him if he cared about you."
"You think?" Harry asked, surprised that Sirius could come up with this so suddenly.
"Yeah. I mean, I know I'm a goof, but people seem to think that makes me emotionless. But I feel guilty all the time. I doubt myself a lot, and I do get depressed, even if it's only until I see James and the two of us wreck havoc again. So I know if I were to die, and you went to look for me, I'd feel guilty up in heaven about holding you back, and leaving you like I did." Sirius now knew that all of those books he had read as a child, the ones his mother had said were going to taint his mind, were more than just adventure. It was probably a good thing that he hadn't skipped over all of the `mushy' talks between the characters.
But what he was saying was one hundred-percent true.
"Huh."
"Bet you hadn't thought about it that way, huh?"
"Nope. I hadn't. So where did that talk come from?" Harry asked, feeling lighter than he had in months.
Sighing, Sirius said in mock depression, "See, everyone always assumes that I have no emotions," throwing his hands up to show that he gave up.
Grinning, Harry watched as the sun set with Sirius, in silence, and then both he and Sirius headed back inside, Sirius saying that he had to go try to help Remus, with the rest of the Marauders. Harry let him leave, knowing where he was going, but feeling a lot better about it. For the first time, he was at peace with his godfather and his death. Maybe tonight he would be able to dream about something other than a wind-blown veil. Like Hermione…
Where had that thought come from?
Trying to push the funny feeling in his stomach away, Harry turned his thoughts back to Remus, Sirius, James and Peter as he heard a loud howl that seemed to echo through the halls. He'd let them continue this tradition without him. And they would tell him when they were ready.
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