[personal profile] marieldraconis
I'm not posting day 1 at present, because it is the start of a longer story that I'm not sure I'll continue. If I decide to continue, I'll clean it up and post it.
I'm not posting day 2 because it is both unfinished and the premise is shaky. My objections to my first two days are really a complete lack of inspiration. Day 3 set out to mend that.
So, here we are starting with Day 3, a scene from early in my story formerly-named "Harry's Secrets". [I'm open to suggestions for new titles]
Standard Disclaimer: this is a fanfic. Anything familiar does not belong to me.


Remus looked around his office, and concluded that it was probably a mistake. The defense textbooks on the wall, the syllabi sitting on his desk, the papers already coming in from Ravenclaw first-years who were terrified of failing out...this was the life he had dreamed of from sixteen years old until twenty, the life he had nearly had thirteen years ago. Perhaps it was a mistake, and the last twelve years had all been a dream, and everything that happened in those last six months never really did.
Unfortunately, traces of the passing time were everywhere. Remus’s grey hairs and scars he had not had Before showed in the mirror if he cared to look. There had only been ten students in his seventh-year NEWT class this morning, and Professor McGonagall had told him that his sixth-year class would be even smaller. Twelve years ago, everyone with the requisite OWL took Defense at NEWT level. Now it was considered no more necessary than Transfiguration or Potions, a prerequisite for certain jobs. The course itself had been something of a joke the past few years—the reason that only a few sixth years were taking Defense Against the Dark Arts was in part that Remus’s immediate predecessor had apparently not known what he was talking about.
“At least you can tell them what five traits distinguish a wolf from a werewolf, Remus. To listen to Lockhart, anything more dangerous than a pixie required an epic battle which he, of course, survived with no trouble,” had been McGonagall’s commentary on that subject, followed by “If only you had taken the job when Dumbledore first asked you...”
And he had, actually, although he doubted Professor—Minerva, he had to remember that now—knew about it. He was fairly certain even Dumbledore didn’t know the reason behind his sudden refusal after accepting the position. Almost no one alive did.
There was another, very clear sign that Remus had not dreamed the last thirteen years. It lay under his notes for the third years, stuck to the fifth year notes by some substance that the Weasley twins had brought to class . They had been shocked that Professor Lupin had anticipated all of their welcome-to-the-new-teacher pranks, although Remus had been rather impressed by some of them. James and—had never done anything like that. James and. That was the pertinent issue, for stuck to his lecture notes was the latest edition of the Daily Prophet, and Sirius Black’s face stared out from the front page.
The years showed as much on Sirius’s face as on Remus’s, but more importantly, that Sirius had escaped from Azkaban meant that he had betrayed Lily and James and killed Peter. Remus was not just taking up this job under an aging potion—James had suggested that at one point, when Remus expressed his worries about seeming young to the students. Remus had not dreamed up the last thirteen years.
The other, most obvious sign of the six months before Lily and James and Peter died, before Voldemort was defeated, was not in the room right now. But Harry had been on the train, and for the first day or two back at Hogwarts, Remus had narrowly missed running into him everywhere. Human scents were commonplace, and Remus was used to ignoring them, but Harry’s smell was distinctive. Remus also felt his lupine other half drawn to Harry, trying to watch and see what had become of the pack’s only child. Remus was curious, too, but he knew better than to get to close. At least, he remembered better.
“Promise me, Sirius.”
But Sirius had broken that promise, and now instead of Harry being safe, the only thing protecting him from Sirius was Remus.
This was definitely a mistake—Remus’s mistake. He should never have taken this job, but he had not been thinking about Sirius Black or Harry Potter or anything related to them when he said yes. He had merely been thinking that this was his dream job and that nothing had happened in years and he needed to eat. It was only after he had said yes that Dumbledore dropped the bombshell that Sirius had escaped, and even that only came after explanations about the Wolfsbane potion and how well Harry was doing in school.
The Wolfsbane potion better work. Moony had been lurking around the edges of his mind, growling when he saw Harry near that Malfoy boy after the train, and generally keeping track of Harry since then. Remus had almost never had Moony this close to the surface this long after the full moon. He was not sure which was more terrifying, Moony having such free rein or Moony’s attention to Harry.
This morning would be Remus’s first encounter with Harry since the train. Harry had shown no outward sign of remembering anything, and Moony had not been doing anything more than watching Harry, but with this particular lesson, anything could happen. And it was too late to change his plans now, and Remus knew the third year Gryffindors would love this sort of class, after having Lockhart last year. That was the trick to dealing with Gryffindors—with rare exceptions like Remus, they preferred action to thought. But the Boggart’s reaction to Harry would be telling. It could be any of a hundred normal fears, but Remus doubted it. Harry had too many true horrors in his past for that. But the question was, would it be Lord Voldemort...or perhaps Remus himself?
It would be bad if the Boggart turned into their professor, and he would have to explain it. But it was unlikely—could Harry fear something he did not seem to remember? The Boggart could become Voldemort, though—Harry had apparently met him in the last two years. That would cause a panic, not only among the class. Thirteen years might be a long time ago, and Remus’s school days even further back, but he could easily imagine the sort of effect a rumor that Lord Voldemort had been seen in the staff room would have on the rest of the school. It was the sort of prank the Marauders might have pulled in third or fourth year, before Voldemort was really powerful and well before they understood the ramifications of their actions. But from what Professor Dumbledore—and Remus would not be able to call him “Albus” under any circumstances—said about the last two years, such a rumor might even be believable.
No, Harry could not face the Boggart today, not in front of everyone. And now that Moony had stopped pacing in the back of his mind, Remus had a class to teach.
He took a deep breath, and walked out the door.

The lesson had been a rousing success, better than even his previous classes. Most of the students were laughing as they left. Remus knew he should have refrained from pulling that prank on Sni—Severus, but being here, back at Hogwarts, and that near-brush with the Weasley twins earlier had roused his prankster’s instincts. Besides, Severus deserved it, tormenting and bullying a student like that, especially Neville, with the boy’s past. It seemed that some people would never grow up, although some people would have to include Remus now, apparently. It could have been worse—he had not actually hexed Snape into Neville’s grandmother’s clothes. James would have. Sirius would have, and possibly worse, if it had been Harry that Snape had—no. Why do you do this to yourself? That Sirius was a lie. It was hard to remember that the man who had doted on Harry and plotted to get rid of Lily and James long enough to spend some time with his godson had been...plotting to get rid of Lily and James, and Harry.
The students were laughing and talking about boggart-Snape as they left. This was a much safer rumor to wander around the school, although Remus would probably have to watch the Weasley twins closely for the next few days. He only heard one or two references to his own boggart, and they seemed to revolve around crystal balls.
He caught Harry’s eye as the boy left the staff room. Remus felt Moony pushing at him to say something, anything. Before he could decide what to say, the boy scowled and left, following his friends, the two Remus had met on the train. A bit of movement in Ron Weasley’s satchel caught his eye. Was that a—no, impossible. Rats were not authorized as pets in the school.
Moony was growling again, and Remus decided to make a retreat to his room before the growling reached the surface.
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marieldraconis

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