Capítulo 2: Harry Gaunt - Chapter 2
Harry woke with a tired groan, his mouth hanging open as it rested against the coarse bark. He was cold, wet and surprisingly unharmed as he climbed blearily from between the tree roots.
It was morning now, definitely morning as he turned about, seeing the lake and his tent in the distance. His wand was still missing though, and the ring as he checked his hand. "Damn."
Harry walked back to the lake, knowing now that this was no dream at all. "Merlin no…"
It was Remus, curled in a ball as he lay by the lake. He must be freezing, Harry hurried to his side. Harry cast a weak warming charm on him; then another, and again. Remus still shivered.
Harry apparated away, returning a moment later with his trunk before rummaging inside. Hermione would have swatted him for his lack of thought, he could have just summoned it.
But Harry wasn't thinking. "Ah, here it is." He pulled out an enormous blanket, fluffy and covered with fur. Harry quickly laid the blanket down, then levitated Remus on top of it. "Keep him warm," he instructed the blanket, which appeared to nod before wrapping Remus up like a caring mother.
Harry rubbed his hands together, pleased his enchantment still held. Now onto the serious problem. "WHERE THE HELL AM I!?"
Harry picked up a large rock from the shore, then tossed it at the lake to display his anger. "The plan should have worked," he hissed, his mind tumbling through the days that had led to this moment.
Severus. The memory. Neville. Aberforth.
"Aberforth?" stopped Harry, scrutinised the memory from when he'd last visited Neville. "That old goat. It did work."
Just not how Harry had planned. Harry couldn't feel Voldemort anymore, which to the short of mind would suggest he was dead. "But then," muttered Harry. "If I came back…"
Harry turned to Remus, who's face looked so much like the man he would become. He couldn't have been older than 16, which meant he was only a year or so younger than Harry.
"This is mental," said Harry, he wasn't equipped for Time Travel, that was Hermione's thing. He'd just make everything worse, he also knew next to nothing about the 1970's.
There was only one thing for it then. "Remus?" called Harry, lowering carefully to the protective blanket. "Remus?"
The blanket tightened, as if it didn't want to let go. "You'll suffocate him," said Harry, giving the blanket a firm nudge with his foot. "Open!"
"Gah!"
Remus appeared like a new born babe, flaying about in the nude. Harry looked away, letting the blanket quickly cover the more sensitive parts.
"Oh my-" Remus hastened to get away. "Who are you!" he shouted, looking frightfully at the man he didn't know.
Harry chuckled, watching as the blanket pulled Remus back. "Hello," said Harry. "Are you alright?"
"Yes!" scowled Remus, much to his relief. "What's going on? Who are you?"
Remus looked around for James, Sirius; even Peter.
"You're in the Forbidden Forest," explained Harry, trying for a reassuring tone. "Nobody was hurt. I promise."
Remus sighed in relief, about to speak before Harry cut him off.
"Now, I have some questions," said Harry as he crouched across from him, making sure to maintain eye contact. "What's your name?"
"Remus Lupin," returned Remus carefully, naturally on guard. "Who-"
"What year is it," stated Harry, seeing much through Remus's mind. It was 1975.
"1975." Remus was thoroughly confused. "Why do you ask?"
Harry didn't answer, watching instead as the past flashed within his mind. He saw Hogwarts, his parents, Sirius and so much more. "My apologies," spoke Harry quietly, ignoring Remus's gaze as he came to his trunk. "Are you hungry?"
Harry glanced back at Remus, who to Harry's immense shock, didn't answer. "I'll make us some breakfast," offered Harry. "We can build a fire!"
Harry laughed excitedly.
"I need to go," said Remus instead, wondering if he could somehow transport this fury prison as the man arranged utensils on the ground. "Please, Hogwarts isn't far."
Remus could feel something off about the man, like a small piece of something were missing, broken in the way his smile dimmed. He was trying to be nice Remus realised, feeling guilty as Harry nodded slowly. "You're right," he ordered the utensils away, directing them on with a flick of his finger.
"Y-you're not using a wand," gaped Remus. "Who are you?" he asked.
"I am Harry," said Harry simply. "It's nice to meet you." Harry offered his hand for Remus to shake.
"Likewise," said Remus politely as he shook Harry's hand. "And thanks for helping me." Remus smiled.
"Anytime."
Harry smiled back.
Break.
About 20 minutes later, after Remus had led Harry to the edge of the forbidden forest, Harry felt sad as he asked one more question. "You were bitten as a child?" he asked in shock.
Remus nodded, coming to a stop at the edge of the Hogwarts' green. "Yes," he admitted. It was a painful memory for him. "Please don't tell anyone."
"I promise," assured Harry with a nod. "You're very brave."
It wasn't easy being a Werewolf.
"Thanks," came Remus's flat reply, befuddled by Harry's easy manner on such a controversial subject. "You sure you won't come in?"
Harry seemed very interested in the castle, Remus could see him staring up at its tall spires and medieval turrets. He looked back to Remus. "I shouldn't be here," decided Harry. "Nor do I need to be."
He may never have taken his OWL's, Umbridge seeing to that, but that didn't mean he should return. Harry had left Hogwarts at the end of his fifth year, never to return unless absolutely essential. "Be well Remus," offered Harry kindly, turning to leave. "You can keep the blanket."
The infernal thing had taken a liking to him as Remus laughed, wearing it now like a winter cloak. "Goodbye Harry."
Remus waved. Harry was heading back to the forest.
"I say!" shouted a middle-aged voice from across the green. "Stop - stop this instant!"
Harry turned, looking perplexed as a large bellied man hurried towards them. "Horace?" said Harry aloud.
"Professor?" followed Remus, coming to Harry's side as Professor Slughorn arrived in a huff, wand in hand. He regarded Harry with caution. "Mr Lupin. Come away."
Slughorn gestured with a hand, clearly wanting his missing student away from this dangerous man. "Now Mr Lupin!"
Remus jumped a little at Slughorn's tone, then hurried over to his side. "Go inside," instructed Slughorn, holding his wand at the ready. "Alert Professor Dumbledore, bring the cavalry!"
Slughorn appeared very serious, but Harry couldn't help but chuckle - that was just the kind of thing Slughorn would say.
"Yes Professor," said Remus, leaving reluctantly.
Harry wanted to roll his eyes. "There's no need for that," he said politely, smiling for show at Slughorn while he edged to the forest. "I was just leaving."
The last thing Harry wanted was to be caught up here.
"That won't do lad," explained Slughorn. "You've some explaining to do. What were you doing in the Forest? How did you get here?"
Slughorn levelled his wand at Harry.
"Camping," returned. "There's nothing wrong with that. I found Remus asleep in the forest."
Harry took another step towards the forest.
"Did you now?" spoke Slughorn doubtfully, seeing what the boy was doing. "Well, you can explain it all once the Headmaster arrives, this is really his business after all."
It appeared Slughorn didn't like holding someone under wand point, so in an act of faith, he stowed it in his robes. He was much more interested in talking. "Did you attend Hogwarts?" he asked curiosuly, noting how green Harry's eyes were. "You seem familiar. What's your name?"
Harry shook his head.
"You don't have a name?" said Slughorn, raising a brow. "How intriguing." He laughed a little.
"I was home schooled," said Harry, hearing Slughorn made a 'ah' sound.
"And forgive my asking," said Slughorn in a polite way. "But how old are you?"
By the Professor's reckoning, Harry looked about 18.
"17."
Harry took another step.
"17?" Slughorn looked very disturbed. "And you're camping in the Forbidden Forest? Why aren't you in school?"
Harry shrugged.
"I left," he offered, feeling amused by Horace's reactions. He looked upset now, just as he had when the two had first met in the muggle suburb. They were friends. "I must confess," admitted Harry as he lingered by the forest edge. "That I do not wish to be interrogated."
Harry looked at Slughorn pointedly, who conceded the point with subtle nod. "Few do," he mused. "Not least by Albus Dumbledore." He did that laugh only he could do.
"True."
Harry remembered a time when nearly every conversation he'd had with Dumbledore had been an interrogation - and Harry didn't fancy it now either, as he nodded farewell to the plump Professor.
"Incarcerous!"
The bolt came not from Slughorn, but by the procession of hurrying people as they rounded the corner. Harry ducked out of the way, feeling the thick rope whip through the air above him. He glanced across to them, seeing clearly a curious Dumbledore, an angry McGonagall and finally, James Potter, who held his wand with a furious scowl.
It had been him who'd cast, looking every bit as vengeful now the Professors were here. So, it was true then, without doubt as Harry faced them fully, staring all the while at his tall father. There were certainly differences between them, like how Harry was a little shorter, stockier and despite what people always said, different in the face.
"You!" accused James with a shout, arriving beside Slughorn.
"Me?" asked Harry innocently.
"Yes you," stated James angrily, finding a moment to adjust his glasses. "You almost killed Remus!"
Harry winced, he had hadn't he.
"James," came Dumbledore's placating voice. "Calm." The Headmaster settled beside James. "Come away," he advised to Harry, seeing how close he was to the forest. "It's not safe."
Dumbledore waited for Harry to move, but Harry ignored him, his attention still firmly upon his father. Harry didn't have glasses anymore, he'd grown tired of them. "You should use a sticking charm," said Harry as James habitually pushed up his glasses. "Just the nose ridge, that way they'll stay."
Harry had used it for a while himself. It helped. But James wasn't interested, still aggressive in his stance as the group watched him.
It was just his luck. Harry's expression dimmed. "Have a good day."
And with one last glance at the gathered group, Harry apparated away. The Hogwarts' wards couldn't stop him, he knew them all.
…
James let his arm lower, blinking owlishly like the rest. "Did he just Apparate?" he asked stupidly, looking blankly at the space where the man had been. "Professor?" He looked at Dumbledore, who appeared… concerned.
James glanced at McGonagall too. "Albus…" she began leadingly.
"Indeed," Dumbledore rubbed his beard. "Most extraordinary. The wards are still intact."
He must have slipped right through, or done something else as Horace hurried to his side. "Albus, we should speak to Mr Lupin. They arrived together." Horace gestured they go right away.
"Together?" parroted James in a high-pitched voice. "But- but he attacked him!" James didn't understand.
Dumbledore set a hand on his shoulder. "It's alright James, let's speak to Remus. He's in the hospital wing."
"Okay," nodded James, tiredly rubbing at his eyes, he'd been awake far too long. "Was Remus really alright?" he asked.
He'd looked so hurt when they'd seen him - and Remus was a Werewolf, they were tough as nails. Yet this man had subdued him with ease.
"James, why don't you head back to the dorms," said McGonagall kindly. "It's only an hour till lessons, you should rest. Tell Sirius to do the same."
She'd already told them they were excused from classes, but James and Sirius had been adamant about staying up. The Professors had already known Remus was a Werewolf, and now how the three were Animagi too.
"I'll stay," decided James as he followed after her. "But I'll tell Sirius when we're back, he'll have given up and gone to sleep by now."
McGonagall accepted, it wasn't long until the group arrived at the Hospital Wing. Remus was lying in bed, the blanket lying securely over him. "James!" he said from his bed, seeing his friend had come to see him.
"Remus!"
James hurried over, darting past the Professors to arrive first. "How are you feeling?" he asked, looking Remus over.
"Better than usual," admitted Remus, putting it down to his shorter than normal run-time. "Peter's in the next bed over," he nodded to the bed beside him, the curtain still closed. "He's asleep."
James stopped from going over. He nodded. "Sorry Remus, we couldn't keep you safe. Sirius and I-"
Remus shook his head. "There's nothing to forgive," he said, smiling at James. He was a kind soul at heart.
Dumbledore soon stepped up, resplendent in his purple robe.
"Professor," greeted Remus.
"Mr Lupin," smiled Dumbledore in return, glad to see he was alright. "You took quite a turn it seems." Dumbledore peered over his glasses. Remus looked away, this being the first time anything serious had happened. "I wonder if you might give us some insight," continued Dumbledore. "About the man who… recused you?"
Dumbledore wasn't sure if this was actually the case.
"Harry," supplied Remus. "He said his name was Harry."
The Professors listened closely.
"What happened Remus?" asked McGonagall, always with the air of concern for her students. "James said you were attacked."
James had come running in last night, confessing it all in the early hours of the morning. But despite McGonagall's shock at what she'd heard, they hadn't dared venture in. Not with a Werewolf and a dangerous wizard on the loose.
James had been very upset.
"I don't actually know," offered Remus. "I never remember what happens. Never." He sighed frustratingly, thinking it was probably a good thing he never remembered.
James stepped in to explain what happened, a story the Professors already knew. "Then he tried to kill Peter - he went mental!" James had never seen a man behave that way. "We told McGonagall everything, but we weren't allowed to go back out."
"A wise course," supplied Horace, having only been woken to search in the morning. He'd rather die than become a Werewolf. "Mr Lupin, did Harry tell you anything else?" he asked. "I managed to speak to him for a few minutes…"
Slughorn glanced at Dumbledore, who understood. They'd discuss it later. "Best start from the beginning," encouraged Dumbledore.
"Well, the first thing was this," Remus picked up a corner of the furry blanket. "I was wrapped in it by the lake. It's enchanted, I think."
Remus touched the soft fur.
"He gave this to you?" posed Dumbledore, touching a corner himself. "How odd." He scrutinized the fur. "It's some kind of cat."
Dumbledore glanced at McGonagall, who was thoroughly unimpressed by the assertion that she'd have any idea what it was. "Ask Hagrid, he'll know."
"Ah, of course," Dumbledore nodded, chuckling as he let it go. "It's of no consequence for now." Dumbledore was much more interested in who had made it. "And Harry?"
"Oh, right," Remus thought about what happened next. "We spoke for a bit, I asked him who he was a few times. He didn't answer of course, at least not at first."
By Remus's count, it had been… he'd lost count.
"Did you catch his last name?" interjected Horace, eager to hear it. "I was sure I recognised him."
"Yes, I had that too," agreed Dumbledore.
But Remus shook his head. "Just Harry," he confirmed to the two's combined sigh. "He was nice though, friendly. Even offered to cook me breakfast."
Remus laughed a little, more from the absurdity of it all than anything else.
"You didn't eat it did you?" asked James in askance.
"No way," denied Remus. "He wanted to make a fire, everything seemed to be stored in a large chest as well. Far too big to just carry around."
Remus had liked that too, it appealed to his minimalist nature. He'd probably need one himself one day. "I don't think he meant any harm," he added, seeing the concealed opinions of each Professor. "He was just defending himself. I don't blame him."
"He went way over," said James, thoroughly convinced of the fact. "He could have just stunned you. Three or four would have been enough for him to escape."
James crossed his arms.
"Actually, I don't think he had a wand," posed Remus thoughtfully. "I never saw one."
"That was my observation too Albus," said Horace. "Perhaps it was damaged during the exchange with Remus?" he posed.
"It's possible," contemplated Dumbledore. "But given his earlier display, I find that difficult to believe."
Dumbledore would always be cautious of those with power, feeling quite rightly, that they were a risk. "And after that?" He looked back to Remus. "You walked to the castle? Did he say anything else?"
Dumbledore felt himself lean further in.
"Nothing important," determined Remus. "We talked a little about my condition. It didn't seem to bother him either."
"It didn't?"
Remus nodded to James, quite surprised himself. "He gave me advice, said the wolf was predictable. Whatever that means."
He'd have to think on it.
"Thank you Remus," said Dumbledore, then to everyone else who'd helped settle the situation. "James, return to your dormitory. No classes today."
"Yes Professor."
James stepped away.
"Oh and boys," Dumbledore paused before so they could all hear. "Best keep this to yourself, for now at least."
He was sure they would, but just to be certain.
"Yes Professor," said Remus and James together, and with that, the group left the sleepy hospital wing.
Break.
"Albus, we must find this boy," said Horace with emphasis as they climbed the stairs to Dumbledore's office. "He's only 17. We must do something!"
They stepped through the door to Dumbledore's office, the Headmaster himself sighing at the thought of getting involved. "He is of age," he stated, taking a seat at his desk. "We can do nothing should he wish to stay away."
"But Albus-"
Albus raised his hand, knowing his friend was well meaning, if misguided. "I will make an enquiry with the Ministry, see if we can't offer a helping hand. You said he was home-schooled?"
"Yes, that's right," Horace came before his desk. "Though it could be a lie - it all could be a lie in-fact. But I am sure I recognised him Albus, something…"
Horace flicked away, frustrated at his inability to remember.
"Was it the eyes?" posed Albus.
"Yes," Horace turned back. "And no. I knew them the moment I saw them, but that's not this niggling feeling."
Horace would think on it more, bidding Albus good morning before leaving for class. The holidays were soon upon them, he had papers as he left the office promptly.
Dumbledore stared at the door, looking thoughtful as he wondered what it was Horace was referring to. "There was something about him though," he agreed with a hum, hearing a soft trill from Fawkes. "Yes, poor boy."
Fawkes had a sense for these things, seeing what Albus had through their bond. Perhaps coming to Hogwarts would be a good thing, help to heal whatever tragedy had befallen him.
Albus had a floo call to make.
AN
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