"Call me Remus. And yes, this is much better," he said, and looked ready to fall right back to sleep. Before he did, however, he looked Harry directly in the eye.
"You're James' son, aren't you? Harry? You look just like him. Except for the eyes of course-"
"I have Lily's eyes. Everyone says that," he said exasperated, and yet strangely thrilled. How many times had he heard that? Hold on. Remus. That name was familiar. "You're not Uncle Mooney?"
But Remus had already drifted asleep. Reluctantly, Harry let him be. As he began unloading the cart and making a sort of camp, his thoughts became fixed on their mutual recognition. The name Moony was infamous in the Potter house hold as one of James friends during his adventurous school days, sneaking out late night to run wild on the grounds. Harry had always assumed it was at a prestigious boarding school of the... well, normalvariety. Not a Wizarding school. And not with a werewolf. What were the chances that he'd run into his second godfather in the middle of the wilderness?
Well... considering his recent luck, rather high.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
Remus woke early that evening, as the sun began to set. He was warm and comfy (vague stinging sensation in his chest aside) and lonely. Normally, during this time he would be at the homestead, enjoying a post transformation lethargy with the rest of his pack. His pack mates would all huddle close, patching each others wounds and talking of simple things. Their alpha, Fenrir, would stalk between them and over them and against them, counting and assessing each one. When he was finally satisfied, he flop down in the middle of them and soak up their affection for the rest of the night. For the next two or three days everything would be peaceful and everyone would be content.
Now, though, Remus was alone. His family and friends were far away and they could not reach each other for several days, if they even knew to search for him.
"Are you hungry, Sir?"
He opened his eyes and met brilliant green and a familiar face.
"James?"
"We've been over this before, sir," came an amused reply.
"Harry."
The boy smiled. "How do you feel? I tried to patch you up a little while you slept, but I don't think I helped much."
"I feel much better, don't worry. The Wolfsbane should have been broken down by now, so my regenerative abilities should be kicking in. I'll be healed, if a bit more scarred, by the end of the week."
"Wolfsbane? That sounds familiar, but...?"
"It's a potion that allows a werewolf to maintain its human mind after transformation. My pack always has at least one who takes it, just in case something like what happened last night occurs. What did happen by the way?"
"Oh! So that was you. Thank you. You saved my life... and got hurt because of it."
"Nonsense. I am glad I was able to save a human life, particularly a son of James-"
"You are Uncle Mooney, aren't you? You have to tell me. Were my parents Why wouldn't they tell me? Why hasn't anyone else told me?" Harry said excitedly. Then his expression turned funny. "What an awful nickname! Mom always did say Dad had no tact."
Remus burst out laughing, winced, and then started laughing again. The boy had moved to sit beside him, and the light pressure against his side and the half familiar scent did much to relax the werewolf.
"What are you doing here, Harry? The last I had heard James and Lily had...they... in Germany somewhere almost four years ago. I thought for sure you'd be safe learning wizardy at Swarzekeinen by now. You'd be eleven now right? How on earth did you end up tied to a tree here?"
Harry gave Remus some canned stew he had heated in the fire to eat while he explained the last six months (had it only been that long? It felt like years) of his life; his abduction by WYRA and Snape, being a ward of Hogwarts, Hermione, Nagini (not about being a Parselmouth though), Voldemort, Ron, the broomstick incident, being the youngest Hogwarts Seeker in a century, his victory, Whitehall and Morgenson, and finally the attempt on his life. When he was done explaining, Remus could only blink at him.
"And I thought your father had a knack for trouble. Dear Lord..."
"Professor McGonagall and Hermione say the same thing. Come to think of it, I think Snape said something similar. Except of course he was utter git about it. My classmates call me the 'Black Cat of Gryffindor', you know."
"And you thought my nickname was tacky? That's awful. And to be murdered by fellow students? Over a Quidditch match? If only Dumbledore were still here... he never would have allowed such a thing to happen."
"Remus, tell me why my parents left Britain. Why did ever tell me about magic? Why no one told me the truth about them."
The werewolf seemed to consider his question a long time, then eventually sighed.
"I don't know everything. I know that they were very frightened for you, especially when the war seemed to turn irrevocably in the Dark Lord's favor. Your father was an Auror, and a damn good one. He brought down many of the Dark wizards, but when he needed protection the Ministry copped out, and he had to go into hiding instead with you and your mother. Dumbledore did his best to protect them."
Harry remained silent. He had heard of Dumbledore, of course. Professor Toure had mentioned him. She had described him as a stubborn, psuedo-plebian politician and anarchist. A man who endeared the lower classes with temporary and cheap platitudes, while steadily degrading the foundation of their society and culture. Harry just thought she didn't like him because he'd stood against Voldemort during the war.
Perhaps she didn't like him because, apparently, he wasn't a dark wizard either.
"He even set up a secret keeper so their house could never be found, but they must have panicked and run. I don't blame them. If they hadn't gotten out when they did, there would have been no escaping to the continent. The Dark Lord managed to seal off the country shortly after and then everything was lost. Even Dumbledore had to flee."
"He was your headmaster when you and my dad went to school, right? What was it like?"
Finishing the last of his meal, Remus set it aside and thought carefully for a moment.
"It was, by far, the most wonderful place I have ever been. What made it even more so, was the fact that I shouldn't have been allowed to attend. I had been bitten when I was still very young, and lycanthropy had been apart of my life for years. By all law I shouldn't have been allowed anywhere near other children. By law I shouldn't have been allowed to exist," he spat bitterly.
"...I don't understand," Harry said, "Why wouldn't you be allowed to go to school? You're only dangerous a couple hours out of the month... it's not like it's your fault."
Remus smiled a bit at him, lifted his hand to rest it on Harry's cheek.
"So like your father. So ambivalent towards danger, towards social expectation. You have no idea, do you? You are one of the very few wizards who would willingly sit next to a werewolf, regardless of form. You are of the even fewer who would do so, completely without fear."
Despite his words, Harry did not feel the slightest bit afraid. Remus was a man, one his father had trusted as a friend for life. He had been a wolf the night before, and had still honored his father's trust and protected his son. How could he possibly turn away from him?
"Did my father sit by you without fear?"
Remus chuckled a bit. "Yes. Yes, he was the first to figure it out in Hogwarts... and he never turned me away, he never ignored what I was either, or made me feel ashamed of it. He and Sirius were the best friends any man could hope for."
"Sirius? You mean Uncle Padfoot?... Where do you come up with these names?"
"Simple, your first Godfather was an animagus... more specifically a dog animagus."
"Oh!... Wait then, my dad's old school name... Antlers or something..."
"Prongs. And yes, he was an animagus too. A stag."
"... my dad sometimes called my mom 'my little vixen'..."
Remus laughed loudly at that.
"So totally unrelated?"
"Your mother wasn't an animagus, unfortunately. She and your father didn't really get together until their last year at school together, and he never told her about me until shortly after graduation. Your father became an animagus in order to keep me company during the full moon, so she didn't have a reason to learn. She had figured it out before, of course. She was even smarter than James, but she never mentioned it to anyone. I think she understood perhaps better than even your father or Sirius did. Women are more empathetic than men after all."
He silent for a moment.
"I don't know why they never told you the truth or decided to live as muggles. They might feared the Dark Lord would send assassins after them. Perhaps they had come to despise their world and magic in general, as so many of us have after witnessing how destructive it can be. I just don't know. But I hope you they were happy. I hope you all were happy."
They continued to talk long into the night, until the night grew too cold and Harry grew too sleepy. A bit timidly, the boy climbed under the furs to lay next Remus. The werewolf didn't seem to think it odd at all, and continued telling him stories of his father and mother and Sirius and Snape (he was going to dump verisaterum in his tea at every opportunity for having kept his origins a secret for so long) until Harry drifted off. Remus remained awake for a long time afterwards, staring down at him and wondering what life would have been like if Lily and James hadn't fled.
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