TITLE: Worth Waiting For
AUTHOR: Lily (a.k.a. Wishful Dreamer)
EMAIL: [email protected]
WEBSITE: http://www.livejournal.com/users/lilydevereaux
PAIRING: Remus/Harry
RATING: R
CATEGORY: Drama/Angst
WARNINGS: MPreg, underage Harry (7th year)
LENGTH: 20492 words
SUMMARY: Harry and Remus spend a night together. Harry, separated from Remus and forced into hiding, doesn't know what to believe about the people he thought he could trust, and the man he still desperately wants to be with.
FEEDBACK: Tear it apart if you wish, I welcome all feedback and constructive reviews are very welcome.
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
NOTES: This fic is part of the 'Mortal Moon' Harry/Remus Fuh-Q-Fest (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/mortalmoonfest/). Challenges:
78. Remus mates with Harry, thinking he is willing. Afterwards, Harry disappears. Remus will do anything to get his mate back. (Cara)
NOTES 2: I don't think this fic truly satisfies the nature of the challenge. The first draft had most of the story from Remus' point of view, but it did not work out and I had to change it completely. Sorry! I hope it's still an enjoyable story.
BETA: Sunny de Lucca
ARCHIVING: Just let me know where it'll be at, and you can have it. The Mortal Moon Fuh-Q-Fest Archive gets it first.

From the moment he awoke, Harry knew it was no ordinary morning.

For one thing, the ceiling he was staring at was nothing like the domed ceiling of the dorm or the dark, intricately carved ceiling of his room at Order headquarters.

For another thing, Harry himself did not feel like he did on ordinary mornings. His head pounded something awful, and every muscle in his body seemed strained and achy. And he was nude.

Last, but certainly not least of the unusual things, there was a warm, naked body pressed against his.

From the amount of prickly hair, Harry guessed the body was male.

For these reasons, as Harry stared up at the ceiling and tried to remember just what had led him to wake up in a strange room, in a strange bed, with a strange man, he was rather reluctant to move and make his wakefulness known.

At least not until he recalled what he had done with his wand.

Unfortunately, the other occupant of the bed woke up before Harry had come up with anything useful.

"Mmmph..."

Harry tried to edge out of the man's grasp and to the other side of the bed.

"Wha--?"

The next moment, both Harry and his bedmate were sitting bolt upright, clutching blankets against their chests.

"Lup... er... Remus?" Harry ventured cautiously. "That you?"

Remus -- it was indeed him, though very disheveled and with thick stubble all over his face -- stared at him in horror. "Harry?"

"Er... yes. I think so."

"You... think... so?"

"This is a rather strange morning."

Remus tore his eyes off Harry long enough to glance around the room. "Oh... bloody hell."

Harry followed his gaze around the room.

There was a newspaper on the floor. The headline proclaimed: HARRY POTTER DEFEATS VOLDEMORT! WIZARDKIND REJOICE!

At least four bottles of liquor were strewn around. One looked like it had been dashed against the wall.

"Looks like we had a bit of a celebration," Harry commented. It would have been better if he could remember it, but though he now recalled crowds surging through the streets, chanting his name and setting off fireworks, everything after that was very hazy.

"Merlin... Bloody... Fuck..."

Harry turned to look at Remus, who had dropped his head into his hands. "Er, are you all right?"

"I am so sorry, Harry!"

"For what?"

Remus looked up. "For this! For doing this to you!"

"Oh. Well, that's all right. I'm sure I wanted to."

Remus stared at him as though he had grown two extra heads.

"Oh, come on," Harry said. "You know I like men. You're the one who caught me and Neville up in the east turret." He tried to get out of bed, but his head reeled, and he fell back. "You don't happen to have any Sober-Up on you? I would KILL for a glass of Sober-Up."

Remus started to shake his head, then winced. "Maybe we can have some sent up. This looks like a hotel."

Harry looked around again, this time noticing the ratty carpet and peeling wallpaper. "Nice choice for our first date."

Hiding his face in his hands again, Remus moaned. "This wasn't a date, Harry. This was a horrible, horrible mistake."

With the pounding in his head, Harry wasn't inclined to be rational. He stood up haughtily, wrapping the blanket around his hips. "I'm sorry you think so. I guess I just didn't measure up."

He turned and walked out of the room, ignoring Remus' weak protests.

He found himself in a shabby, and a bit dirty, bathroom, with a cracked mirror and a bathtub that someone, in a fit of creativity or murderous rage, had painted blood red.

He sat down on the cold edge of the tub and stared at the many distorted versions of his own face.

He didn't know if he should try to sober up with a cold shower, or fill the tub and drown himself.

Why did these things always happen to him?

He had admired Remus from afar since the start of his sixth year. He had never thought he would do anything about those feelings, and if he had been going to do something, a drunken night at a cheap hotel wouldn't have been his first choice.

And to add insult to the injury Remus' disgusted tone had inflicted, he couldn't even remember any of it!

"Harry?"

Harry looked up, glaring at the closed door. "What?"

"It was a terrible thing for me to say. I'm so sorry if I made you think I was disgusted to find myself in bed with you."

"Well you are, aren't you?"

There was a very long pause.

"No."

"No? Could have fooled me."

"I'd just woken up to find myself in bed with a student! What did you expect my reaction to be? Harry, what happened shouldn't ever have happened between us. It was entirely my fault, and all I can do is beg for your forgiveness."

"I told you you have nothing to be sorry for. I wanted it. I have wanted it for more than a year."

The bad thing about holding a conversation through a closed door, Harry found, was that when the person on the other side fell silent, you really had no way of knowing what was happening. Remus was silent for so long that Harry finally saw no choice but to get up and unlock the door.

Remus was sitting on the edge of the bed, exactly where Harry had left him when he stalked out of the room. He was staring numbly at the floor.

"There," Harry said. "I've shocked you properly, haven't I? Yes, it's true. I've liked you for a while now. I never would have done anything about it, of course, what with you and Sirius..."

"Me and Sirius?" Remus repeated faintly.

"Being together and all," Harry said, sighing a little. "I know he must have --"

"No... No," Remus said, shaking his head and looking up. "I don't know where you got that idea, Harry. Sirius and I were not lovers, I assure you."

"Really?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Really. But that doesn't matter in the least. Let me repeat, what happened between us was wrong. I'm your professor..." With another groan, Remus hid his face again. "How am I ever going to make this right? Dumbledore will have my hide for this, if the Ministry won't..."

"Don't be silly," Harry said, sitting down next to him. "I'm seventeen. It's perfectly legal. You stopped being my professor at the end of the year. We're just friends now."

"Just friends," Remus repeated in a pained tone. "Is this how I treat my friends? And we're not just friends, Harry. I'm your guardian!"

Harry patted his shoulder awkwardly. "I keep telling you. I'm perfectly fine with this."

"I'm not. You're just a child." Remus looked sideways at him. "My best friend's child. How could I do this? How could I ever be drunk enough to --" He shuddered, shaking off Harry's hand.

"Look, I enjoyed myself. I can't think of anyone I would rather have spent last night with. Stop making it out to be such a terrible thing."

Another sideways glance was thrown his way, but Remus didn't look convinced.

Harry sighed in exasperation. "I understand you were drunk! We both were. I'm not expecting anything. I know things might have happened, or been said, that didn't mean anything, or at least not as much as they seemed to mean when we were both pissed out of our minds and thinking mostly with our dicks. I get it, all right? You don't have to keep apologizing."

Remus shook his head. "But I must. Whatever I said last night, you have to understand I wasn't thinking straight. If I made you any promises, or said anything that led you on, I am truly sorry."

Harry took advantage of Remus' averted eyes to look closely at him.

If he was understanding right, Remus didn't remember much more of the previous night than he did. And if that was so...

"You didn't make any promises. I mean, you did make some pretty wild confessions and proclamations of love, but I guess that must have been the liquor talking."

"Must have been," Remus said faintly. He sounded deflated.

"Was it? I mean, I would be stoked if it were true."

Remus stared at the carpet.

"It is, isn't it?" Harry almost couldn't believe it. "You really like me."

"No."

But the whispered reply did nothing to dissuade Harry. Not letting Remus turn away from him, he knelt in front of him. "Remus, I --"

Remus' eyes flew downward, his expression turning to horror. "Merlin... Harry, what's that?"

"What?" Harry asked, trying to follow his gaze.

"That! What is that?" Remus tore at the blanket still wrapped around Harry's lower body, exposing his left hip. "Oh, God..."

Harry looked down. What he saw was a medium sized bruise, already turning shades of purple, with clear teeth marks at the edges. "Oh. Well. It doesn't hurt. It's nothing."

But when he looked back and saw Remus' face, a pang of worry cut into him. "It is nothing, right? You couldn't infect me while in human form?"

The silence was almost unbearable as he waited for Remus to come out of his stupor.

Finally, Remus shook his head. "No. Not infect. Only mark."

"Mark?"

Screwing his eyes shut, Remus fell sideways onto the bed, clawing at the sheets. "God! What kind of a monster am I?"

"Whoa! Hey, it can't be that bad! What is this mark? What does it do?"

But Remus was unresponsive. No matter how Harry shook his shoulder, he wouldn't open his eyes.

Giving up, Harry lay down next to him. "I don't care what it is. You are not a monster. I love you."

"You have no idea what I've done to you," Remus whispered hoarsely. "I marked you as mine. I tainted you. I can never return to thinking of you the way I should. It won't let me."

"If you ask me," Harry said dryly, "having sex with someone pretty much ends any possibility of going back to seeing them as just a friend, mark or no mark. And did you even hear what I said? I love you."

"You are not being rational."

Harry knew he wasn't. He just didn't care. For once something he had wanted, and thought he couldn't have, was within arm's reach. "Just give it a chance," he said, bending down to kiss Remus on the lips. "You'll see I know what I'm doing."

Remus pushed him away. "Don't make this any harder, Harry. We can never be together."

"Of course we can. What's stopping us?"

"You mean aside from my age, the fact that I'm a registered werewolf, and the fact that when the Ministry finds out about this I'll be lucky if I'm only run out of Britain?"

"That's not going to happen! Hey, I killed Voldemort last night! They're not going to do anything to you!"

Remus snorted. "How quickly you forget how you've been treated. Do you honestly think your great accomplishment won't be forgotten when the next sensational headline appears? They'll never stop, Harry. They'll always be looking for something to use against you, because in the end it's the humiliating, ugly stories that sell, not happily ever after endings. Don't look to these people to be on your side."

"I'm not," Harry said. "I don't need them on my side. I'm just looking forward to living my life without feeling obligated to anyone. I did what was expected of me. I want my freedom now."

"You are so naive," Remus whispered.

"Maybe," Harry said, shrugging. "But what's wrong with dreaming? What's wrong with having what you always dreamed of, at least for one night? You are one of the few people I can be myself around. If I could have you with me, just like this, for even one night, well, that's happiness to me."

He leaned down for another kiss.

Though he didn't respond, Remus didn't push him away or try to avert his face.

They lay together in silence for a long time. Harry didn't want to move, knowing that very likely it would be the last time he got to be with Remus like this. All bravado and talk of freedom aside, he knew his chances at a normal relationship -- with anyone -- were next to impossible.

"We should get out of here," Remus said at long last, pulling himself out of bed. "We have to get home."

Harry sighed deeply. Home was Order headquarters, which he expected was chock full of Aurors and family and friends of Order members. Probably Dumbledore, too, who would of course take one look at them and know exactly what had happened.

Home was the last place he wanted to go just then.

"Lets have breakfast first," he said, reluctantly getting up and scanning the floor for any sign of his clothing. "We probably won't get a chance once we get there."

Remus, who had managed to get himself mostly dressed, picked up Harry's shirt and tossed it to him. "We can find a cafe."

Twenty minutes later they were sitting at the back of a cafe, sipping strong coffee.

Harry, in a bandana to hide his scar and having made his glasses invisible, felt safe enough to look around at the other patrons.

"Looks like a lot of people woke up much like we did," he commented, smirking.

Remus looked up from staring into his mug. "What?"

"Check out all the guilty looking couples."

Indeed, there seemed to be an inordinate number of couples in the cafe. Some of the men sported black eyes, or had visible hex marks.

"Great," Remus muttered. "Mass insanity."

"I guess people wanted to do something life-affirming. The war lasted a long time."

"Drowning our grief in four bottles of whiskey and fucking each other senseless isn't what I'd call life-affirming."

Something pricked in the back of Harry's mind. Though he still couldn't remember, he was suddenly very certain that at least most, if not all, of the alcohol that had been consumed the previous night had been the result not of celebration, but of mutual pain.

"The sex was, I think. Just wanted to be close to someone. Feel someone else's life force."

Remus gave him an odd look. "You really did know what you were doing, didn't you? That's not just Health Studies talking?"

"Hogwarts Health Studies," Harry said, smirking. "Right. No, I wasn't a blushing virgin, in that's what you mean."

Maybe Harry was imagining it, but it seemed to him that a taunt muscle in Remus' jaw relaxed just a bit.

They finished their coffee in silence.

"We better head home before they send out a search party."

"I know," Harry said, pushing his chair back reluctantly.

"I'll take care of the bill. You go see how much they're charging to use the Floo."

"Or we can Apparate."

"With this headache? I don't bloody think so."

Harry couldn't help laughing. "Coffee didn't help did it? All right, I'll go. You sure you've got enough money on you?"

Remus dug in his pocket, coming up with a handful of silver sickles. "More than enough."

Leaving the table, Harry headed for the other side of the cafe, where he could see a large fireplace.

"Excuse me. How much to Floo?"

"One galleon."

Harry produced two coins, just as he saw Remus approaching. "For me and my companion."

"You go first," Remus said. "I want to get the morning paper. I'll be right behind you."

Harry waited until Remus was paying for the paper, then took a handful of Floo powder and stepped inside the fireplace.

"Bluebird Inn," he said, giving the name of the small tavern Order members used to Floo close to headquarters.

There was a flash, and then he was tumbling through the Floo network. The familiar dizzying journey reminded him just how much he hated traveling in this manner.

He just hoped there wouldn't be too many people around. He was sure to be asked a million questions, and although his memory of the duel with Voldemort was fairly vivid, he didn't want to talk about the previous day -- or night -- with anyone.

Finally, he landed, falling headfirst out the fireplace, and landing hard on a rug.

In a second, he was on his feet, his wand out.

He wasn't in the Bluebird.

"Relax, Harry. You're safe."

Harry whirled around. He found himself looking at Dumbledore, who was sitting behind a desk, sorting through a pile of mail. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry we had to redirect the Floo you were using. It must have made for a bumpy ride." Dumbledore paused, and peered at him over the rim of his spectacles. "We've been looking for you. It isn't safe out there for you."

"I was on my way back to headquarters," Harry said. "If you don't mind, I'd like to go there now."

"I'm afraid not, Harry," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "As I said, it is not safe. You will have to remain at Hogwarts for the remainder of summer."

"What?!"

"It's only a few more days, Harry. Classes start next Monday. Many of your friends are already here. Ms Granger arrived earlier this morning, and I hear Ron and Ginny Weasley will soon be here as well."

Harry wanted to argue, but one look at Dumbledore made his shoulders slump in defeat. There was no use trying to change the man's mind.

"I need to send an owl right away."

"Of course. You know the way to the Owlery. I'm sorry to tell you Hedwig is still not back, but you are certainly welcome to use one of the school owls."

"Thank you," Harry said, though he felt anything but thankful. He wondered if Remus had made it safely to headquarters, and if he was worried about Harry.

He knew the answer to that. Remus must have been in a panic when he arrived at the Bluebird and Harry was nowhere to be seen.

"Excuse me, Professor," Harry said, already running from the room.

'Dear Remus,
My Floo was hijacked by Dumbledore, and I'm now at Hogwarts.
Come right away!
Yours,
H.J.P.'

He had no time for a longer note. Folding it quickly, he attached it to the leg of the strongest looking owl -- school owls had been terribly overworked throughout the war -- and let it out. He stood at the window until it had disappeared in the distance.

He hoped the owl would get there quickly. Maybe Remus could make it to Hogwarts in time for lunch.

"Hey, Harry! Down here!"

Harry looked down to see Neville and Hermione waving to him from the courtyard.

"Hey!" he yelled back. "I'll be right out!"

He hadn't seen any of them in weeks. Hermione and Ron had been separated from him in the middle of a critical battle. As far as he knew, Ron had gone home after suffering a minor injury, and Hermione had stayed to help with the wounded at one of the field hospitals. Neville had been at Hogwarts the whole time, helping Sprout maintain the greenhouses.

He spent the rest of the day with his friends, catching up on news. Before he knew it, the sun was setting.

"Is something wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked, looking at him closely. "You seem preoccupied."

"I'm waiting for an owl from Lupin. Do you know when Ron is getting here? I want to borrow Pig. I don't trust those damn school owls."

"I think he and Ginny will be here in the morning. The train was delayed."

Harry looked one more time out the window, but the orange-tinted sky was still clear, with no return owl in sight. He knew that if Remus couldn't get to Hogwarts right away, he would have send a letter back. To hear nothing from him was starting to get Harry seriously concerned.

"I'm sure everything's fine," Hermione said, seeming to read his thoughts. "Lets get to bed early. It's incredible -- being able to get a full night of sleep for once!"

Sighing in resignation, Harry bid her good night.

He was sure to hear from Remus the next morning. Maybe Remus would even be at Hogwarts when he woke up.

But Remus was not at Hogwarts the next morning, and there was no return owl for Harry. His hopes had been dashed when the tapping at the window turned out to be Hedwig.

"I am glad to see you, Hedwig," he said, smoothing her feathers. "But I was hoping for word from Remus."

Quickly, he wrote out another letter.

"I know you'll get this to him."

He watched her fly off, and felt a little better. Hedwig had never failed him.

He was still hoping to receive word from Remus at breakfast. Maybe the school owls felt it was their duty to wait until the proper time to deliver mail.

But no word came.

Ron arrived, and for a while Harry put Remus out of his mind.

He went to bed that night heavy with the realization that the school owl would not come. It was up to Hedwig now, but that meant more waiting, and he wasn't willing to do that.

"Professor McGonagall!"

McGonagall stopped and turned around, smiling when she saw him. "Yes, Mr Potter?"

"I was wondering if I could contact Order headquarters from your office."

McGonagall's smile turned into a frown before Harry had even finished speaking. "I'm afraid not, Harry. The Floo network is not safe right now. Excuse me."

Harry watched, stunned, as she quickly walked away from him.

What in bloody hell was going on?

A familiar neon blue head of hair flashed in the stairwell, and Harry ran after it. "Wait up, Tonks!"

Tonks waited on the next landing until he caught up with her. "Hey Harry. I didn't know you were at Hogwarts already."

"What are you doing here?" Harry demanded. "Did you just come from headquarters?"

She nodded. "Sure. Got a new assignment from Dumbledore himself, just now."

"Listen, is Lupin there? I mean, have you seen him these past few days?"

Tonks blew a stray strand of hair off her forehead. "Let me see... Well, I've been busy, of course. Charlie had me sorting boxes and boxes of low-grade Dark objects. But I saw him come in, let me see... must have been the day before yesterday. He was all worked up. Ran right past me without saying so much as good morning. Not like him at all."

"Have you seen him after that?"

"No... I don't think I have. Why? Can't contact him?"

Harry nodded emphatically. "I've been trying ever since I got here."

"Well, don't worry about it," Tonks said, tossing her hair. "He probably got a new assignment. We're really busy over there just now."

"Why? What's happening?"

"Death Eater trials will be starting soon," Tonks said with a shrug. "Besides that, we're trying to clean things up a bit. Find and dispose of any Dark objects left lying around where some Muggle could stumbled across them. And of course most of the Aurors are still looking for Voldemort's supporters who're still alive and have managed to evade capture or haven't been identified yet."

"Oh," Harry said. "Well, if you see him, can you tell him to contact me right away? I really need to speak with him."

"Sure. But I probably won't be back at headquarters for a while."

"Just do what you can. If you happen to see him, give him the message," Harry said, biting down his disappointment. "Good luck with your new assignment."

As Tonks walked away, Harry found himself surrounded by students going down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"There you are, Harry," Neville Longbottom said. "I think Ron and Hermione are looking for you."

"Thanks."

But instead of following the others or going back to Gryffindor Tower to find his friends, Harry lagged behind, finally becoming detached from the crowd and stepping behind a wide pillar.

If he couldn't get in touch with Remus through owl post, and he couldn't get a message through one of the other Order members, and McGonagall wasn't going to let him make a call through the Floo network, then he was just going to have to take more drastic steps.

The Floo in one of Hogsmeade's shops was terribly expensive, but Harry had money on him. That morning he had taken five galleons from his money bag to put in the donation box Dumbledore had set up in the Great Hall, which benefited war orphans and widows.

He figured if he went as quickly as he could, he could make it to Hogsmeade and back in less than two hours. Maybe Ron and Hermione wouldn't even have time to start up a panic over his disappearance.

He took one of the closed corridors, squeezing under the boards Filch had nailed across the entrance. The ceiling had collapsed in some places, leaving gaping holes in the wall that separated it from the courtyard. It wasn't a particularly safe way to go, since he could be seen through the gaps from any one of the windows on the ground level and first and second floors, but Harry figured all the professors would be at breakfast.

He was going to go the usual way, through the tunnel under the Whomping Willow.

He had no trouble prodding the knot that stopped the flailing branches. Crouching down, he started to crawl through the opening.

At first, he thought he had caught the hem of his robes on a low branch. He jerked hard, trying to get it loose.

"I don't think so, Potter."

Harry, in his shock, made the mistake of standing straight up, banging his head against a thick branch.

Knocked back to his knees by the force of the blow, he looked up at Snape through the fireworks of pain in front of his eyes.

"Were you planning on going somewhere, Potter?" Snape asked, raising one eyebrow. "Is there a party in your honor that you simply must attend?"

"None of your business," Harry mumbled angrily, rubbing the top of his head. "I'm not a prisoner here. It's summer. Remus Lupin is my guardian, not Dumbledore!"

"I think the Headmaster might disagree," Snape said, grasping Harry by the upper arm and hauling him to his feet. "Let us find out, shall we?"

Knowing the futility of any such action, Harry made no protest as Snape dragged him back to the castle. A few minutes later he was sitting in the visitor's chair in front of Dumbledore's desk.

"Thank you, Severus. You may go."

With a final nasty look in Harry's direction, Snape turned on his heel and stalked out of the office.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "I can't tell you how disappointed I am. I warned you explicitly that it is not safe for you outside of Hogwarts. Where were you planning to go?"

"I asked Professor McGonagall to use the Floo in her office to call Lupin. She refused. I was going to use the Floo in Hogsmeade."

"Then I'm certainly thankful Professor Snape was able to stop you. That would have placed many people in jeopardy. Professor McGonagall was quite right to refuse your request. The Floo network is unsafe."

"Look," Harry said, gritting his teeth in anger, "all I know is, I can't contact Lupin, and it's absolutely urgent that I do. He's my guardian! I have every right --"

"Not anymore."

"What?" Harry repeated, not understanding.

"He is no longer your guardian, Harry. Lupin has been sent on a very important mission."

"What?!"

Dumbledore sighed. "You must understand, Harry. We are stretched thin. Less than a third of the Order is still intact. Fewer than fifty Aurors are able to work, and most of them are working double shifts to cover for those who are still recovering from injuries and those who have been lost. We need every last man. Lupin was the only one capable of carrying out this particular assignment, and so he felt he had to go. He wanted desperately to spend more time with you, but there will be time for that in the future. Do you understand?"

Harry didn't understand at all, and an odd little voice -- more like a feeling, really -- in the back of his mind told him to be suspicious of Dumbledore's story, though he couldn't pinpoint the reason why.

Instead of arguing, however, he nodded his head. "I understand. I'm sorry. I was just really worried."

"I'm sure you were. You should have come to me, Harry."

Harry nodded again.

"Well, go on to breakfast," Dumbledore said, smiling gently. "Your friends must be wondering where you've gone."

"Thank you," Harry said, getting up quickly. "And... I really am sorry."

Dumbledore waved him off, still smiling.

Harry got out of the office quickly. He wasn't sure if Dumbledore believed him to be sincere, just like he didn't know if he should trust the voice that told him he shouldn't believe what Dumbledore had told him.

Maybe he was just being paranoid. Remus had no reason to avoid him, and even if he was still embarrassed or upset about their night together, he would not avoid Harry purposely. If Tonks was right and he wasn't still at Order headquarters, then maybe he really was on a new assignment.

Hedwig would find him, wherever he was, Harry was sure of that. It would just take more time.

Students began to arrive for the start of the year later that week, and soon Harry found himself falling back into the familiar routine of classes, meals in the Great Hall, studying difficult spells in the library, and wizard chess tournaments in the common room.

A week turned to two weeks, and then three, and still there was no word about Remus' whereabouts. Harry's only consolation was that Hedwig still had not returned. As long as she was out there, he could continue hoping that she would find Remus.

"Donnan is a terrible teacher," Hermione complained, sighing over her Defense book. "I wish Lupin had come back."

"Me too," Ron said, prodding one of his knights to run Harry's last pawn off the board. "We haven't seen him in ages. What do you think he's up to?"

"I don't know," Harry said glumly.

He hadn't confided in his friends. He didn't think they would be able to help him contact Remus, and he wasn't ready to answer any questions.

Hermione sighed again and shut her book. "Well, this is a waste of time. We might as well have Lockhart again."

Ron made a face. "You don't mean that."

Hermione only shrugged.

"I give up," Harry said, pushing the chess board away. "You win, Ron. As usual."

"Want to play again?"

"No. I think I'll turn in early. I can't think why I'm so sluggish today."

Hermione looked concerned, but Harry avoided being interrogated by faking a big yawn. "I shouldn't have stayed up reading last night, I guess. Well, I'll just go up, if you don't mind."

Ron shrugged, already waving Neville over and starting to set up a new game. "Good night, then."

"Good night, Harry," Hermione echoed.

Harry trudged up the stairs.

Why was he so tired lately? It wasn't just that day. And he hadn't stayed up late the previous night, either. He had fallen asleep no sooner than his head hit the pillow.

Kicking off his trainers, he sat down on the edge of his bed and took Remus' photo out of his nightstand drawer.

Where was Remus?

Harry didn't want to believe that their night together had meant nothing, but it was starting to seem that way. Maybe he had underestimated Remus' tendency to hold himself up to a higher standard than other people. He had thought Remus wouldn't avoid him out of feelings of guilt, but he could have been wrong. After all, nothing like this had ever happened before. Maybe Remus had decided Harry was too young, after all. Maybe he was feeling guilty, or blaming himself, and maybe he thought leaving Harry alone was the best course of action.

Or maybe the Ministry had done something to him. Hadn't Remus said something about that? Being lucky if he was only run out of Britain?

Harry shook his head, put away the photos, and climbed into bed. Somehow, he had to find Remus and set things right. If only the sluggish, tired feeling would leave him so he could think properly, maybe he could come up with a plan.

By next morning, he still had no plan, and there was even more bad news.

"Ron's gone," Hermione told him when he came down to the common room.

"What?"

"They found Percy... well, his body, anyway. Ron's gone to the funeral."

"Oh."

Hermione smiled weakly. "He'll be all right, I think. He just needs to be with his family. It's lucky he could go."

Harry nodded. His head ached dully that morning.

"Are you feeling all right, Harry?"

"Sure."

Hermione peered closer at him. "You look a bit pale."

"Bad dreams," Harry lied. In truth, he hadn't dreamed at all. He had fallen asleep, and hardly been able to drag himself out of bed that morning, after Neville had shaken him awake.

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Harry said quickly. He didn't want Hermione fussing over him. "What do we have today?"

"You have an extra Defense class. I have Arithmancy. We better get going, or we'll miss breakfast. Everyone's gone down already."

Harry followed her through the portrait hole, but in the corridor the smell of bacon and eggs assaulted him, making his stomach turn painfully.

"I just remembered something," he managed to say, turning back. "You go on. I'll catch up."

He managed to get to the bathroom. There, in the cupboard above one of the sinks, he found the potion Pomfrey had given him when his fevered dreams had made him nauseous.

He wasn't going to get sick. And he wasn't going to Pomfrey. He had much more important things to do.

He gulped down the potion. Almost at once, he began to feel better. After splashing some cold water on his face, he started toward the Great Hall again.

"I saved you some croissants," Hermione said, meeting him on the stairs. "Breakfast is over."

"Thanks."

With a wave, Hermione disappeared into the crowd heading toward the Arithmancy classroom.

Harry turned to go back up the stairs, which suddenly seemed endless. What he really wanted to do was to go back to the dorm and crawl into bed.

Classes dragged. Harry doodled on the edges of his notebook, and tried to think of ways he could contact Remus, but he still hadn't come up with anything by the time Hermione joined him for Double Potions after lunch.

His thoughts continued to wander aimlessly as he chopped and diced his potion ingredients.

"Potter!"

Harry turned, puzzled, in the direction of Snape's voice.

"Harry, are you all right?" Hermione's voice boomed in his ear, making him want to squeeze his eyes shut.

"Potter!" Snape yelled again. "What is the matter with you?"

Harry blinked, shaking his head, trying to focus on the two faces in front of him.

Or above him. He raised his head, realizing suddenly that he was lying on his back on the floor, with bits of Shrivelfig and diced liver strewn all around him, and the worried faces of his classmates peering at him over the shoulders of Hermione and Snape, who were bent over him.

"Should I take him to the nurse, sir?" Hermione asked, her voice sounding shaky. "He hasn't been feeling well for a couple of days."

Snape scowled at Harry, who was trying to sit up. "Take him. Get him out of my sight. Twenty points from Gryffindor for disrupting class."

Snape turned away, and Harry gritted his teeth to keep back an angry outburst.

He allowed Hermione to drag him to his feet and lead him out of the classroom.

"Are you all right?" she asked again as the door shut behind them, leaving them alone in the chilly dungeon corridor. "You don't know how frightening that was, seeing you fall like that."

"I don't know what's the matter with me," Harry said, shaking his head. "I don't even remember it happening."

"Well, the nurse will figure out what's wrong, I'm sure," Hermione said confidently.

Harry made a face, but said nothing. Maybe he was ill. He couldn't hope to find Remus in this state, so he might as well give in and let Pomfrey examine him.

After the long walk to the infirmary, despite Hermione's help, Harry was only too glad to sit down on one of the beds.

His head ached dully. It was too much effort to listen to what Pomfrey was saying, or even to watch her. He fixed his gaze on the painting of a sailboat being tossed by stormy green waves, and waited for the inevitable series of disgusting potions or stinging salves.

Pomfrey clucked worriedly over him. "Lie down, dear. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Harry lay down willingly.

He wished Hermione had stayed in the other room. She was asking him something, and he was finding it hard to focus on her voice.

"He's in there, Albus."

Harry's ears perked up, and he made an extra effort to drag himself into a sitting position. Why had Pomfrey brought Dumbledore?

"Ms Granger, please leave us," Dumbledore said, hardly giving Hermione a glance.

Hermione, looking uncertain, backed away from Harry's bed.

"You may wait in the other room, dear," Pomfrey said, giving her a push in the direction of the door before pulling the privacy curtain around Harry's bed. "Now, Albus, as I was about to say --"

"I'm already aware of the situation, Poppy," Dumbledore cut in quietly. "I was looking for Harry when news of this incident came."

Pomfrey's mouth opened and closed mutely several times before she spoke again. "He's quite far along. Four weeks, perhaps."

"I realize that, also. You must treat him quickly, and prepare him for travel. He will be leaving Hogwarts as soon as you can stabilize him."

Harry sat up so quickly that his head reeled. "Leaving Hogwarts?!"

Dumbledore's blue eyes met his, filled with concern and worry. "I'm afraid so, Harry. You will have to go into hiding for the duration of your pregnancy."

Harry stared at him dumbly. "My what?"

"Albus... I hadn't told him."

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, I'm sorry the news had to be broken to you this way. But you are, I assure you, having a baby. And you are, just as certainly, in terrible danger as a result."

Harry, feeling more faint that he recalled feeling in the Potions classroom, slumped against the pillows. "I'm having a... a..."

"Baby," Dumbledore finished for him. "I'm afraid so. Is there anything you need from your dormitory? You will have no time to pack your things yourself."

Harry shook his head.

"Poppy," Dumbledore said, turning to the nurse, "get him prepared. I must call the Order together."

Pomfrey nodded. "I will need at least a half-hour."

"Very well."

Turning to go, Dumbledore pulled back the curtain.

Hermione, her hands over her mouth and her eyes wide, was standing on the other side.

"Ms Granger," Dumbledore said, frowning. "You were asked to go."

With what seemed like a lot of effort, Hermione forced pried her hands down. "I'm sorry, Professor. I thought Harry was in trouble... and I was right!" She took two steps forward, wringing her hands. "Please let me go with him!"

Dumbledore regarded her for a long moment. "Very well. Stay with him -- you may not leave this room again."

Hermione nodded wildly, her hair flying about her face. She collapsed into a chair next to Harry's bed.

Without another word, Dumbledore left the infirmary.

There was silence after that, aside from the noises made by Pomfrey, who bustled around, lining up bottles of potions and jars of various sizes.

Harry felt like a rag doll the entire time she worked over him. He couldn't even muster the strength to look at what she was doing to him.

Pregnant.

Harry's mind refused to wrap around the concept.

He had an idea wizards could get pregnant, of course. Ron had joked about a second cousin, and Seamus had joined in with stomach-turning stories of his own. But Harry had never thought of such a thing happening to him.

Remus.

Of course, if he was pregnant, Remus had to be the one who got him that way.

For the first time, Harry felt a prickling of something other than stunned despair. He was going to have Remus' baby...

Before that feeling could develop, Dumbledore was back, carrying two lumpy bags.

"Your clothes," he said, placing the bags at Hermione's feet, "and a few of your school books. I'm afraid I had time to pack only what was easily at hand."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you. Professor? My parents..."

"There is no reason to notify your family, Ms Granger, at least yet. It will only cause them unnecessary worry to know you are no longer at Hogwarts." Dumbledore turned to Harry. "Now, you must listen carefully. Forces connected to Voldemort have learned of your condition. They intend to use the child you carry in a particularly dangerous and Dark ritual. Failing that, they intend to destroy you while you are unable to defend yourself. You see, Harry, your condition will strip you of your magic. The process has already begun, although you will be able to use magic for a while yet. You will becomes progressively weaker as time goes on." He paused, studying Harry intently. "Are you listening, Harry? Do you understand what this means?"

"Is it permanent? Will I be a... Muggle?"

"No. Your magic will return after the birth."

"Why can't I stay at Hogwarts? I've always been safe here. You've said that yourself!"

"Unfortunately, Hogwarts is no longer able to offer that kind of protection. Most of our wards have failed. The efforts to locate and close all entrances into the castle that have opened as a result of structural collapse are ongoing, but will not be completed for many months. We simply cannot protect you here. You must go, and quickly." Here, Dumbledore turned to Pomfrey. "Is he ready, Poppy?"

"Yes. I put off giving him the restorative draught, as it is a strong stimulant."

"You may give it to him now."

Harry accepted the goblet from Pomfrey. The liquid seemed to scald his insides as he drank, but he could feel the results at once. All his weakness, and the fuzziness in his head, began to ebb.

Dumbledore, watching him closely, nodded in approval. "Please follow me. We must get you to Hogsmeade, where our first contact is waiting."

Harry and Hermione fell into step behind him as Dumbledore led the way down a narrow, deserted corridor. Soon, Harry realized that the ground was sloping downward and the walls grew progressively more damp and rough. He guessed they were descending into the dungeons.

The corridor ended abruptly. Dumbledore, tapping three times on the wall, revealed a doorway. Beyond it was a narrow earthen tunnel.

Harry frowned. He knew from his many excursions that no such passageway was marked on the Marauder's Map.

"This old castle holds many secrets," Dumbledore said softly, as if reading his thoughts.

The tunnel seemed endless. In some parts, they had to bend their heads low. In others, to turn sideways to squeeze past narrow bottlenecks. One stretch was flooded with several inches of water, and the walls and ceiling were slimy with moss.

"We must be under the lake," Hermione whispered, leaning close to Harry. "I think this tunnel leads straight into Hogsmeade, just like the one under the Whomping Willow."

Harry nodded, but said nothing. It had occurred to him, moments earlier, just what he was leaving behind. The castle had been his home for more than six years. It had been his place of refuge in times of trouble. All his friends were there. His whole life was there.

And it was where Remus would look for him...

Dumbledore had stopped just ahead of them. Harry dragged his gloomy thoughts back to the present in time to see a trap door opening in the tunnel's ceiling.

"Come," Dumbledore said, glancing back to see that they were still following him. The next moment, he disappeared from sight.

"Do you need help, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"No."

Hermione followed Dumbledore through the trap door. "It's not so high, Harry. Give me your hand."

Harry pulled himself up easily. "I'm all right, Hermione. I feel fine now, really."

He looked around. They were in what appeared to be the back room of a shop. Shelves surrounded them, crammed with merchandise.

"This way," Dumbledore said. "Someone will be waiting for us out front."

The street in front of the shop was deserted except for a battered Muggle bus, which spewed clouds of thin blue fumes every few seconds. Muggles, dozens of them, were peering through the grimy windows.

Harry was about to ask what a Muggle bus was doing in Hogsmeade when a plump witch in pale pink robes ran up to them.

"Everything is ready. We should get them on board quickly."

She ushered them to the back of the bus, opening a small door and revealing a private compartment.

Dumbledore saw them inside, and handed Hermione a small package. "You should be arriving at your destination in time for a late dinner. This should hold you over until then. Remember, you must not be seen. Do not use magic, and do not raise the curtain. Someone will meet you when you arrive." He smiled at both of them, but the smile looked forced and there was no customary twinkle in his eyes. "Good luck to you."

Before either of them could answer, the door shut. The engine groaned like a dying hippogriff, and with a lurch the bus began to move.

Hermione opened the package, taking out two bagels and a small jam jar. "Are you hungry? It must be about dinner time."

Harry shook his head.

Hermione sighed, setting the food aside. "I'm not either."

They lapsed into silence. Harry looked around the compartment, finding that the one window had a heavy curtain over it.

Hermione was fussing with her bag, taking out shirts and underwear and shoes and sorting them into piles on the seat next to her. "I wish we'd been able to pack ourselves. I don't see my red cardigan anywhere, or my pleated skirt. And these shoes pinch my toes. I'll have to wear my boots all the time." She looked up, eyeing Harry's unopened bag. "Why don't you see what you got?"

"What difference does it make?"

Hermione shook her head and returned to her unpacking. A minute later she came up with two books. "Good. I'd just started this one, and this other one I think is Lavender's, actually. Dumbledore must have taken it by mistake. It looks quite interesting."

"Great."

She ignored his comment. After returning her clothes to the bag, she opened the book, and Harry found himself shut out as she quickly became engaged in her reading.

For lack of anything else to do, Harry checked the contents of his bag.

His photo album wasn't there. Neither was his Invisibility Cloak, or the Marauders Map, or any of the other things that mattered. There was only clothing and a battered Snitch that still fluttered weakly when he picked it up by one bent wing.

For a wise man, Dumbledore sure didn't seem to know what was important.

Time dragged on. Harry wished he had a watch, at least. Aside from the dim overhead lamp, no light came into the compartment. He couldn't tell if it was afternoon still, or closer to evening.

"Where are we going, do you think?" he asked, trying to peer though the small gap between the curtain and the window.

"Harry! Don't!" With a quick jerk, Hermione adjusted the curtain. "Remember what Dumbledore said! We are not supposed to be seen!"

"Too bad I didn't bring my Invisibility Cloak, then," Harry muttered, retreating to the other side of the compartment.

"Why don't you try to read?" Hermione said, offering him one of her books. "It will make you less anxious."

Harry looked at the book, which had what appeared to be a lion with a severed human head in its jaws, and shook his head. "No thanks."

It took a few minutes, but Hermione settled down again, curling into the corner of her seat and hiding herself behind the large book. For a long time, the only sound was that of the bus wheels turning over uneven pavement and pages being turned at a steady pace.

Harry sighed and leaned back against the hard, uncomfortable cushions. Now that he was thinking more clearly, he wished he'd had time to pack his things, or had at least accepted Dumbledore's offer to get them for him. A deck of cards, or Quidditch Through The Ages would have really helped pass the time.

It seemed like they had been traveling for ages. His back ached dully, made worse by every bump in the road.

Hermione's mostly silent presence was not helping much. He was grateful, of course, to have even one of his friends with him, but if he was being completely honest, he would have picked Ron.

It was just his bad luck that Ron hadn't been there. If it hadn't been for Percy's funeral, maybe the three of them would be going into hiding together, instead of just Harry and Hermione. Ron always managed to get more interaction out of her than Harry could. With him, she would just sit and read for as long as she could, and make him feel bad for interrupting her.

Harry sighed again. Of course, he wished none of his friends had to suffer because of him. Going into hiding was hardly going to be great fun. Especially when he considered the reason.

He shut his eyes, refusing to think about it.

He wondered instead how Ron would react when he returned to Hogwarts and found both Harry and Hermione gone, with no explanation. He hoped Dumbledore would pull him aside and tell him what had happened. Then, even if they couldn't communicate or see each other, Ron would at least know that they had not gone on some grand adventure and left him behind.

Harry smiled mirthlessly at the thought. It would be just like Ron to assume that.

"We're here, Harry," Hermione said, shutting her book with a bang and startling him out of his thoughts. "The bus is stopping."

Indeed, the bus was pulling to a stop. Harry could hear people in the front, on the other side of the magical partition, starting to get up and shuffle their luggage.

"What now?" he asked. He couldn't remember if Dumbledore had told them what to do once they got to their destination.

"Now we wait until someone comes for us. That's what Dumbledore said. Someone will meet us."

Harry slumped back against the cushions. More waiting.

The sounds from the front of the bus gradually stopped, and the two friends were left in silence. Hermione sat primly on the edge of her seat, looking as though she expected the door to be opened any minute.

Finally, just when Harry was about to ask her for the time, the door did open.

Harry squinted against the sudden light of the setting sun, and tried to shade his eyes as a figure appeared in the doorway.

"Professor Snape!" Hermione exclaimed, sounding altogether too glad.

Harry sighed for what felt like the thousandth time. As if this day was not already among the ten worst of his life, now he would have to deal with Snape.

"Get out, quickly," Snape commanded, holding the door open. "You are late."

Harry opened his mouth to retort that they had no control over the bus, but found he simply did not have the energy to argue. Instead, he climbed out after Hermione, dragging his bag behind him.

Snape led the way to a squat wooden building in front of which the bus had stopped. Harry was surprised to see not a single person on the streets.

In fact, the town appeared to be abandoned... if it could be called a town. Aside from the building inside which Snape was leading them, there seemed to be nothing but dust and weeds.

"There were no people on the bus, were there?" Hermione said in a low voice.

"Very observant, Ms Granger," Snape said, not stopping.

They had now passed through a room that looked as though it may have once served as a lobby of some sort, and were walking down a long, narrow hallway. At the end of it, Snape pulled open a door and motioned for them to go ahead of him down a dark staircase.

Instinctively, Harry pulled out his wand to light his way.

Snape swatted at his hand. "No lights. No magic."

Harry had been down his share of dark, creaky stairs, but walking behind Hermione, with Snape's cold fingers clamped on his shoulder from behind, made for a very uncomfortable walk.

At last, they reached the bottom, but Harry was dismayed to see that instead of ending in a room, or even a cellar, the stairs ended at the opening of what appeared to be a very dark tunnel.

"Go on," Snape said, giving him a push forward.

Harry began walking, holding one hand out in front of him in case he should walk straight into a wall -- it was that dark.

There was a fizzing sound, and a dim light lit up the tunnel. Harry turned to see Snape holding a match to one end of a stubby candle.

They continued walking, a little more confidently now that they could see where they were going. Hermione's hand slipped into Harry's, squeezing reassuringly.

Harry wasn't reassured. He was walking down a dark tunnel with slimy stone walls and rotting wooden support beams, with Snape breathing down his neck and uncertainty lying in front of him. The light of a thousand brightly lit torches couldn't have reassured him just then.

"Open the door, Granger."

Hermione jumped at the sound of Snape's voice, disentangled her hand from Harry's, and stepped forward to the heavy wooden door that was blocking their path.

With a sickening creaking sound, it swung open, revealing another set of stairs.

"Go," Snape commanded, giving Harry a shove.

Harry stumbled, but caught himself on the railing. He gritted his teeth as he followed Hermione, biting back his anger.

"It's locked," Hermione said, tugging at a brass ring in the center of a door at the top of the staircase.

"Move aside."

Harry pressed against the wall, instantly regretting it as dampness soaked through the back of his robes.

Snape took out a large key, unlocked the door, and stepped through.

Harry's eyes took a long time to adjust to the light.

There were several gas lamps lit in the room where they found themselves, though the room itself was completely bare, and the lamps themselves had been placed on the dusty floor.

"Through there," Snape said, motioning toward another doorway.

Hermione took Harry's hand again and together they walked into the next room.

This one was not as depressing. There was old-fashioned furniture, including a lumpy couch in front of a fireplace. There were gas lamps in this room, as well.

"Now," Snape said, striding into the room after them. "Listen carefully, because I only have time to say this once." He paused, glaring first at Hermione, who was, of course, already looking attentive, and then at Harry. "This will be your home for as long as the Headmaster deems necessary. You are not to open any doors or windows, or pull back any drapes. You are to use no more than four lamps in a room. Is this understood?"

Harry nodded, and beside him, Hermione was nodding also.

"Food will be brought to you. Only two people know of this location, and that is the Headmaster and myself. You will be unable to contact anyone on the outside, but in case that is not sufficient, let me make it perfectly clear that you are not to attempt to contact anyone."

Harry felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, but Snape was glaring particularly hard at him, and he forced himself to nod again.

"Your schoolbooks will eventually be brought to you, as well as assignments from all your professors. Aside from that required by your lessons, you are not to use magic."

Harry distinctly heard Hermione gulp.

"There is only one bedroom," Snape said. His eyes narrowed as he looked from Harry to Hermione. As is eyes traveled over Harry's face, he smirked. "Normally, such an arrangement would be unthinkable, but I daresay it will not be a problem in this case."

Harry felt himself blushing furiously, but Hermione squeezed his hand again, and he was able to keep silent.

"Lastly, I must warn you against exploring this house. It has been warded heavily against intruders, and you would not benefit from sticking your noses where they don't belong. There are four rooms with which you should be concerned, and they are the bedroom, bath, kitchen, and this --" He waved his hand to indicate the room they were in. "Is that clear?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "Professor?"

"What is it?" Snape asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Are we under the Fidelius Charm?"

Harry, impressed by her boldness, looked up at Snape.

Snape nodded slowly. "Yes, Ms Granger. You most certainly are. I hope you fully appreciate the added hardship the Order has taken upon itself."

Harry dropped his gaze. It was terribly unfair that Snape should be saying that to Hermione, who had done nothing.

"Now," Snape said after a long, uncomfortable moment, "I will be leaving you, and I trust you can manage by yourselves from here on."

"Yes, sir," Hermione said. "I think we can."

"See that you do."

With that, Snape strode out of the room. The door leading to the staircase slammed shut, and Harry barely suppressed a shudder as he heard the key turning in the lock.

They were alone now, in an old, empty house.

He looked at Hermione, and Hermione looked at him, and he knew that they were both thinking the exact same thought at the same time.

What were they going to do now?

Harry sat on his bed, staring at his open Transfiguration textbook without seeing the words.

It had been more than two months since their arrival.

The room, gloomily lighted with four gas lamps -- two by Harry's bedside and two by Hermione's -- still looked much like it had when they arrived, though Hermione had done her best to brighten it up with illustrations from a Herbology book tacked to the walls to hide the worst of the peeling paint.

They had yet to see another living person. Just as Snape had promised, food arrived regularly. Always, they found it in the morning, sometimes simply left on the kitchen table, sometimes put away into proper cupboards and cabinets. Their books, too, had been brought to them.

He glanced at Hermione.

She was using all her time to study. They had long since run out of conversation topics, and spent much of their time in silence, at least when Hermione was not quizzing him on the contents of their textbooks.

He wanted to tell her how sorry he was for involving her in his problems. She had been a brilliant friend, to volunteer for this when it meant losing out on so many weeks of school. Thought she hadn't complained, he knew she had to be feeling the same panic she always did when she thought she was falling behind. Only this time, she might not ever have a chance to catch up. For all they knew, Dumbledore really did plan on keeping Harry hidden away until after the birth.

Harry didn't care about missing classes, but he missed Hogwarts terribly.

He missed his friends. He missed some of his professors. He missed Quidditch and weekend trips into Hogsmeade to stock up on sweets, and early morning tea in Hagrid's hut, and...

Well, it did no good to dwell on it. Anyway, once he started thinking along these lines, it always led him to painful thoughts of Remus.

"Harry?"

He looked up. "Yes?"

"Are you feeling any better?"

"Sure."

"Think you can hold down some broth?"

Harry shook his head. "Probably not."

"It's been a week since the last delivery. We're running out of food. Do you think something's wrong?"

"I don't know. I suppose someone might be watching too closely, and they can't risk coming." He smirked. "Or maybe Snape's decided to starve us to death."

"He wouldn't do that. I'm just worried something's happened."

"I'm sure it's nothing."

Hermione smiled weakly. "You're probably right. I'm just being silly."

Harry nodded, trying to smile back reassuringly.

Silence returned as Hermione went back to her book.

Maybe something had happened. If only Snape and Dumbledore knew where they were, and something happened to both of them...

Harry sighed heavily and tried to refocus on the difficult spell he had been studying. Not that it did him any good, when he couldn't use magic.

Just as Dumbledore had predicted, his magic had started to weaken, until one day while practicing an advanced floating spell, the cushion he had been using simply fell like a stone. Now, he could barely float a feather, which meant he was weaker now than he had been the day he had arrived at Hogwarts as a first year.

"Harry! Did you hear that?"

Harry, who had fallen into a doze without knowing it, sat bolt upright. "What?"

"I think someone's downstairs! I think it's Dumbledore!"

Harry had automatically pulled out his wand, and now he lowered it, scowling as he realized just how useless he was in an emergency. "Great."

Hermione was already on her way out the door.

Harry stayed where he was. He wasn't going to go down all those stairs just to see Dumbledore.

He listened to Hermione's excited chatter, and a quieter, male voice answering her. He couldn't actually catch any words.

"Great," he muttered again, flopping back against the pillows.

After what seemed like hours, he heard heavy footsteps on the stairs. Then, Dumbledore himself appeared in the doorway.

"How are you, Harry? You look a bit pale."

"Ran out of anti-nausea potion," Harry said, not looking up from his textbook.

"I will tell Professor Snape to bring more the next time he visits."

Harry turned the page. "Thank you."

"Harry. Look at me."

Harry looked up without much enthusiasm. "Yes?"

"I realize this must be very difficult for you."

"I think it's more difficult for Hermione. Maybe you should take her back."

"I'm afraid that is not possible. Her involvement places her in almost as much danger as you are in."

"Well... have you heard from Lupin?"

"No. I'm sorry, he's still on assignment."

Harry sniffed irritably.

"I will let him know you are all right, just as soon as he checks in."

"Fine."

There was a long silence, and Harry could feel Dumbledore studying him intently.

"I brought the nurse. She is waiting downstairs."

"So bring her in. I'm sure you're both dying to get back to civilization."

Dumbledore sighed, but said nothing. Harry heard him leave the room.

Maybe he was being too tough on Dumbledore. After all, he could be completely off base with his theory about Remus' disappearance. There were so few people in his life whom he could trust, and Dumbledore was one of them. Harry didn't want to believe the worst about the man.

Putting aside the book, he took several deep breaths. He would not act like a prat. He would not assume Dumbledore was guilty of deceiving him.

"The nurse will examine you now, Harry. Are you ready?" Dumbledore asked from the doorway.

Harry nodded. "Yes."

Dumbledore stepped back out into the corridor. When he returned, he was leading Madam Pomfrey by the arm.

Harry gasped.

The nurse's eyes were blank, white, and staring. Her cap was lopsided, the edges resting on nothing where her ears should have been.

"What happened to her?"

"She cannot hear, Harry, nor see, until I lift the spell. This is the only way we could bring her here."

Harry nodded mutely, too stunned to ask any more questions.

Dumbledore waved his wand, and Pomfrey blinked, her eyes normal again.

"Well," she said cheerfully, "that wasn't too bad. There you are, Harry! Lets take a look at you."

For the next hour, Harry submitted to her prodding and fussing.

"I'm afraid the best thing for you now is bedrest and constant monitoring," Pomfrey said with a sigh when she had completed her examination. "Poor thing."

"Will you be staying here?"

"I'm afraid not, dear. But I have just the thing to help you get through this difficult time."

Harry watched with growing dismay as she took out a black bottle, uncorked it, and poured the contents into the palm of her hand.

It was not liquid. It appeared to be a blurry cloud of vapors. Long tendrils, like grotesque fingers, reached toward Harry.

"There," Pomfrey said, turning her hand and allowing the cloud to float onto Harry's belly. "These will keep you and the baby perfectly safe until it's time for the birth."

Harry watched as the tendrils probed his bellybutton. To his horror, some of the vapor seemed to be seeping into his body. "Hey!"

"They're supposed to do that, dear. Nothing to fret about."

But Harry did fret. Long after the nurse left, along with Dumbledore, and Hermione had tired of looking at him and returned to her studying, Harry lay with his head propped up against the headboard and watched the wispy black vapor swirl over his skin, feeling disgusted and helpless.

The brief contact with the outside world had reminded him sharply and painfully of everything he was missing out on.

Even if he was wrong about Dumbledore, Remus was apparently still missing. What kind of a mission could he be on, that he couldn't take the time to send a bloody owl?

Harry counted out the days since he had been spirited away from Remus to Hogwarts. What he came up with did not make him feel one bit better. Remus had now been missing for nearly fourteen weeks. And if Dumbledore could be believed, he had not been heard from in that entire time.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Harry ran his hands over his round belly, chasing away the vapors that swirled around his fingers.

Neither Dumbledore nor Pomfrey had been back again, though Snape's visits had increased in frequency.

Or maybe it simply felt that way to Harry, who despised having to allow Snape to touch him with his cold hands. The man always made him feel like a potions ingredient on the chopping board.

According to Hermione, who had read and re-read the many thick tomes Pomfrey had left for them, the baby would be ready to come out in a little over a month.

Harry was ready for it to come out now.

Just getting to the bathroom was a chore. He could barely get out of bed without Hermione's assistance now, and waddling across the room took so much energy that he would often fall asleep for hours afterwards.

The baby was not just draining his magic. It was draining all of his energy.

He understood now why male pregnancy was so rare. Who would want to do this?! It was easy for women, whose bodies did not have to expend energy continuously simply to maintain a womb.

Male pregnancy was a freak phenomenon. A healthy wizard simply could not get pregnant from a normal sexual encounter. It was only when he was weakened and his magic drained that it was possible. And even then, conception required such an impossible combination of circumstance that it was incredible male pregnancy occurred at all. A simple cleaning spell or excess lubricant would have disrupted the process. So would have a glass of Sober-Up, Apparition, or a hot bath.

Harry was used to beating these types of odds. If anyone was going to get pregnant from a single night of drunken passion, it just had to be him, didn't it?

When he returned to the bedroom, Hermione was already asleep.

He climbed into bed, trying to find a comfortable position where there wasn't one. Even sleep was getting to be impossible.

He turned down the light, closed his eyes, and tried not to let thoughts of Remus come.

There was no one he could ask about Remus' whereabouts. Dumbledore hadn't been back, or at least not to speak with Harry -- Hermione claimed she could tell apart the bundles of food left by Snape from those left by Dumbledore -- and Harry was not going to ask Snape, no matter how desperate he was for information.

Did Remus know about the baby? Had he begged Dumbledore to let him contact Harry and been turned down? Or did he want nothing to do with any of it?

The Remus Harry thought he knew would not have left a pregnant lover to fend for himself. He would have tried to find him.

Harry had to believe that the odds against Remus were too great. How could he expect Remus to defy Dumbledore? Of course he couldn't!

Squeezing his eyes shut, Harry tried to sleep.

He dreamed.

In his dream, he saw himself standing at the window of the highest dorm in Gryffindor Tower, looking out across the courtyard.

Across from him, Remus was standing on the roof of a turret, arms folded over his chest. He was looking up at the sky, rain pelting his face.

"I tried to find him."

The Harry in the dream waved frantically and yelled until he was hoarse, but the wind stole his voice and carried it away.

"Where is he? Where is Harry?"

Harry watched helplessly as Remus looked over the edge at the ground far below. The wind whipped at his thin cloak, and the rain beat down mercilessly.

Harry woke up with a start, drenched in cold sweat.

"Where is he?"

For a moment, as he rubbed his eyes and reached over to light the lamp, he thought he was still hearing echoes from his dream.

He blinked in the sudden light as the gas lamp flared to life.

That wasn't a dream!

Forgetting his weakness, Harry pulled himself out of bed, waving off the vapors that tried to slow him down.

He walked as quickly as he could across the room, cursing his condition. If only he could simply run downstairs...!

"Hermione!"

Hermione groaned and turned over onto her stomach, but remained asleep.

"Hermione. Wake up." Harry shook her shoulder again, more urgently. "Wake up!"

"What is it?" she asked groggily, raising her head and squinting against the light.

"I heard voices," Harry said, trying to pull her out of bed. "I think Lupin is downstairs!"

Hermione yawned widely, stretching as she sat up. "Lupin? Can't be. You know no one but Dumbledore and Snape know about this place."

"I know that! But I need you to go check."

Hermione yawned again. "What?"

"Go check!"

Sighing, she swung her feet out of bed. "All right. But I'm sure you were imagining things."

"I'd do it myself, Hermione," Harry said darkly, "but you know I can't."

Hermione nodded, looking sympathetic as Harry made his way back to bed, trailing tendrils of black vapor that wound around his thighs and torso with every step. "All right. I'll go."

"Thanks," Harry said, getting into bed and leaning back against the headboard. The effort of crossing the large room twice had exhausted him, but he was not going to give in to his weakness. He was going to stay awake until he knew if he had heard right, and Remus was really just a flight of stairs away.

Hermione put on her bathrobe and slippers, took one of the candles, and left the room, looking pale as a ghost in the near darkness.

Harry listened to her soft, shuffling footsteps until he could hear nothing at all, except the ever present ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway.

He waited, feeling helpless and useless and utterly weak. His wand lay on the bedside table, but it was of no use to him now. Going downstairs, down all those steep, rickety steps, was completely out of the question. All he could do was wait for Hermione to get back.

He was starting to think she might never come back. In the dead of night, things often seemed surreal, and now, as he lay listening with all his might for any sound from outside the room, Harry wondered if he had not dreamed hearing the voices after all, or worse, dreamed having got out of bed to wake Hermione.

The clock ticked off the hour with its customary dull ping. Harry tried to imagine what time it might be, but there was no way to tell. Until the sun rose fairly high in the sky, no light penetrated the thick, black drapes on each of the two narrow windows in the room, and as the sun began to set, complete darkness descended long before it reached the horizon. It could be a mere hour since he had gone to bed, or it could be quite late in the morning.

Finally, when Harry was just about to implode with miserable frustration, a faint light appeared in the doorway, bobbing up and down and getting slightly brighter. Moments later he heard the same shuffling footsteps, and shortly thereafter Hermione herself appeared.

"Well?"

"Nothing," Hermione said, shrugging. "There was food on the counter. The usual package. No note, but it must have been Snape. Dumbledore never leaves the milk out."

"What took you so long, if no one was there?"

Hermione blinked, looking surprised. "I wasn't gone long at all. It couldn't have been more than a few minutes, even though I put away the food. You must be terribly tired Harry." She bustled up to his bed, putting a cool hand on his forehead. "Hmm, no fever. I suppose you must have been dreaming then." She looked down at him sympathetically. "Would you like me to bring you a glass of water?"

"No," Harry mumbled, turning onto his side. "Sorry I woke you up and made you go down there."

Hermione patted him on the shoulder. "It's fine, Harry. I don't mind at all." He heard her walk across the room to her own bed, then the bed springs groaning as she climbed in. "Good night, Harry."

"Good night," Harry said, pulling the covers up almost over his head.

He listened to her breathing until it became quiet snores. He couldn't seem to close his eyes. His mind kept replaying the sounds that had woken him.

He didn't think he had dreamed them.

And he certainly had not mistaken Snape's voice for that of Remus.

Harry opened his eyes slowly.

For a few moments, he couldn't figure out what had wakened him. Then, another wave of pain washed over him, making the situation clear.

"Hermione!"

At once, Hermione appeared in the bathroom doorway. "What is it? What's wrong?"

With effort, Harry pulled himself into a sitting position. "I think I'm having it! Right now! Tell me you have a way to contact Dumbledore!"

Hermione stood frozen, staring at him. Then, just as suddenly, she leaped into action. "Snape is still downstairs. I'll get him."

"I don't want SNAPE!" Harry yelled after her.

But she was gone. He heard her pounding down the stairs, and, more faintly, yelling for Snape.

Harry's breath caught as a third wave hit him, more painful than the other two. Frantically, he searched his mind for anything he might have read about labor and birth, but aside from numerous accounts that it tended to be a painful and lengthy process, he drew a blank. It was too late now to follow Pomfrey's instructions and read the books she had left for him.

Footsteps -- two pairs of them -- pounded in the hallway outside the room, and a moment later Hermione ran in, followed, at only a slightly slower pace, by Snape.

Their entrance coincided with another jolt of agony, and Harry fell onto his side, moaning.

"There, you see?" Hermione cried, wringing her hands. "I told you it was really happening!"

Snape was already at Harry's bedside, prodding him back into a sitting position. "Potter? How far apart are the contractions?"

"I don.. don't... k-know," Harry panted. "Co... couple m-minutes!"

He was aware of Snape casting a spell over him, but he had screwed his eyes tightly shut, and didn't care to open them to see what Snape was doing.

The pain subsided. Harry fell limply against the pillows.

Snape straightened up, pocketing his wand. "This should slow down labor. I will get Pomfrey. Granger -- get a cold cloth and wipe Potter's face. He's a mess."

Harry heard Snape leave.

After a few minutes of frantic scurrying, Hermione was at his side, putting a wet cloth on his forehead. "It's going to be all right. There. Do you feel any better now?"

Harry nodded, opening his eyes. In fact, he did feel better, and was tentatively hopeful that no more pain would come for a while. "Is Snape going all the way back to Hogwarts?"

"No. I think Snape has a way of contacting Dumbledore from the town."

"Good... because I can't wait that long."

"It's going to be all right," Hermione repeated, not sounding any more sure this time than the last.

"I'm having a baby."

"Yes. I noticed."

"I'm having a baby," Harry said again, more to himself this time. For him, the idea was only just starting to become real. Before, all he noticed was the discomfort, weakness, and irritating vaporous tendrils that followed him like a second shadow. Now, suddenly, his mind was flooded with images of his newborn as it might look like when it arrived into the world. "I wonder if it's a girl or a boy?"

"A girl," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "Honestly, didn't you read any of the books Madam Pomfrey left?"

"No."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but at that moment Snape returned, carrying a tall, steaming goblet.

"The nurse is on her way. She recommended you drink this."

Harry took the goblet from him, wrinkling his nose as he smelled the contents.

"Drink, Potter."

Harry gulped down the disgusting mixture.

"Professor," Hermione said, "how long do you think it will take the nurse to get here?"

"Dumbledore wasn't available. Another escort is accompanying her. As is prudent, they will take the long way, and take all precautions. I expect it will be an hour or longer."

"Is it Lupin?" Harry asked. He didn't dare hope, but could think of no other Order member who might be trusted with knowledge of Harry's hiding place.

Snape's black eyes met and held his. "No Potter. I think you know why Lupin will not be coming here."

Harry raised his chin defiantly. "I don't know what you mean. He has every right to be here, and he cares about me."

Snape looked down at him grimly. "I'm sure you've convinced yourself of that, Potter. I hate to disillusion you, but the Order has not seen hide nor hair of Lupin since the day you were removed from his... tender... care. He has either defected or --"

"No!" Balling his fists, Harry attempted to lunge at Snape. "Liar! I heard him here just the other night! He was here! He was looking for me! HE WOULD NEVER BETRAY ME, OR THE ORDER!"

Calmly, Snape stepped out of his reach, leaving Harry to flop weakly back onto the bed. "You don't know him at all, do you Potter? Let me tell you this, for your own good. Remus Lupin is a filthy coward. Always has been. Never in his life has he risen to the responsibilities assigned him, and this is merely another example. It would be best for you to forget him."

"NO!"

"It's time for you to face the truth. Lupin isn't coming for you. Whatever you believe -- whatever he promised you -- was nothing more than a device to get you --"

"NO!" Harry yelled again, this time managing to reach his bedside table and grab his wand. "Liar! LIAR!"

Sparks flew out of the tip of his wand, and died before they reached the floor.

A second flick yielded not even that.

"Believe what you want," Snape said, easily taking the wand from him. "I will not stand here and be insulted by a little fool who didn't know better than to spread his legs to a vile beast in sheep's clothing."

With this, Snape strode out of the room.

A sob broke the dead silence he left behind him.

Harry looked up and saw Hermione, who had backed against one wall, biting her fist to keep back any more sounds. Tears were streaming down her face.

He couldn't look away, and he couldn't say a word. He watched as she pulled herself together, shuddering with the effort of stopping the tears.

"Is it true? Did Lupin hurt you?"

"No!" Harry yelled, pounding his fists against the mattress in frustration. "No! He would never do that! We spent one night together, and it was wonderful! Snape is a liar!"

"L-Lupin is more than twice your age, Harry. Snape could be right. He could have taken advantage of you."

"NO!"

Hermione continued to wring her hands, but stayed silent, staring him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"GET OUT!" Harry yelled. "Get the hell out of here if you don't believe me!" Seizing a pillow -- the only thing within his reach -- he hurtled it at her. "GET OUT!"

Bursting into a fresh fit of tears, Hermione ran from the room.

Harry lay flat on his back, staring gloomily at the ceiling.

His anger had left, and he had an achy, hollow feeling inside him.

He could hear faint voices floating up the stairwell and through the doorway. Snape, Pomfrey, and Hermione were downstairs, probably discussing him.

Pomfrey was getting ready to remove the baby from his body. For that to happen, several potions had to take affect. It meant more waiting.

He didn't believe what Snape had said, but...

Why hadn't Remus come after him while Harry was at Hogwarts? Why hadn't he contacted him? It had been the first time in almost two years that they had gone more than three days without speaking or writing.

He would never believe that Remus was capable of betraying the Order -- defecting, as Snape had suggested.

As for disappearing with no trace, that was possible, he had to admit. Remus had done that before.

Harry didn't know what to think.

If Remus knew of Harry's situation, then staying away was unforgivable.

And if he didn't know...

That's what Harry had to believe. Remus didn't know. And if he had known, he would be there, by Harry's side, through this ordeal.

That answer, though it took some of the sting out of being abandoned, was far from satisfying. If Remus didn't know about the baby, then somebody was keeping him in the dark about it.

Maybe a lot of people were.

Certainly Dumbledore had to be at the bottom of it, if it were true. Only Dumbledore could order others to keep Remus from learning the truth, and there was no one in the wizarding world who could force Dumbledore to stay silent.

But why would Dumbledore do this to him?

Maybe Dumbledore believed what Snape did, that Remus had taken advantage of Harry. Or maybe --

"Are you ready, dear?"

Harry looked up, and saw that the nurse was pulling on gloves and flicking her wand experimentally.

"I'm ready," he muttered, keeping an eye on the doorway in case Snape or Hermione dared to come in. "I don't want Snape or Granger in here."

"It's 'Granger' now, is it?" Pomfrey said, clucking sympathetically. "I'm sorry you had a falling out with your friend. She should not have got you so worked up this morning." But she pushed the door shut and locked it. "There, now you have some privacy."

Harry watched as she worked, laying out some faintly glowing stones, a fluffy towel, and a pitcher of water. He didn't particularly care to know what she was going to do to him. He just wanted it over with.

"We will have this baby out in no time. Now, don't worry. The pain you felt earlier was your body's misguided attempt at a natural birth, though that is quite impossible, of course. This procedure is entirely painless. Lie back and close your eyes if you wish."

Harry relaxed somewhat, but certainly not to the point of shutting his eyes. He watched as Pomfrey began a series of complicated wand movements, tapping her wand tip on the glowing stones.

Something began to happen to him. The skin on his belly, already tightly stretched, began to tighten even more. Under it, something was moving, like the tentacles of the giant squid that Harry had sometimes glimpsed gliding just below the surface of the lake.

"Here she comes!" Pomfrey exclaimed, flicking her wand directly at Harry's stomach.

A wet, bloody, squirming mass floated up through Harry's translucent skin, to be quickly wrapped in a towel by Pomfrey.

Harry, feeling faint and wishing he had kept his eyes closed after all, had to swallow rapidly to keep from gagging. "Ugh..."

"I'll have her cleaned up in no time," Pomfrey was saying cheerfully. "Then you can get a good look."

"I've seen enough, I think," Harry muttered under his breath.

Pomfrey shook her head and said nothing. She turned to him and cast another spell.

Harry saw the black vapors, which had been his shadow for so many months, disappear into the tip of her wand. When he looked down, he saw that his stomach looked as normal as it had before the baby.

"There you are," Pomfrey said. "Would you like to hold your daughter now?"

Harry didn't have time to answer before a bundle wrapped in a pale pink blanket was deposited into his arms.

He hadn't expected her to be so small. The size of his stomach had given the impression of something much larger inside... not the tiny, red, wrinkled little thing he was now holding.

She had light brown hair.

"Madam Pomfrey?"

Pomfrey was packing up her equipment into a black case, and didn't look up. "Yes?"

"Have you seen Professor Lupin lately?"

For a moment, a dark frown crossed the nurse's face. It was gone just as quickly, but Harry had seen.

"I'm afraid not."

"Would you give him a message for me?"

Pomfrey shut the case with a click and straightened, turning away from him. "You know I can't do that. Dumbledore's orders were very specific. You may not have contact with the outside world." She picked up the case and started for the door. "You should rest. I will send Ms Granger in."

Harry watched her go and fought with his conflicting emotions. He looked down at the baby in his arms, catching her in a wide yawn.

Maybe Pomfrey was telling the truth, or maybe she had been instructed to lie. He should have asked to see Dumbledore, instead of asking about Remus.

"Harry?"

Harry looked up at Hermione, who was hovering in the doorway. "You can come in, I suppose."

She shuffled into the room, looking uncertain and keeping her distance from Harry's bed.

"Want to see her?"

"May I?"

Harry nodded, and Hermione came closer.

"She's beautiful!"

"Will you put her in the bassinet for me?"

Hermione took the baby from him, cooing to her before placing her gently into the bassinet.

Harry turned onto his side and closed his eyes. He still didn't want to speak with Hermione. And he needed time to think...

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione said softly. "I do believe you. It was terrible of me to say I didn't."

Harry nodded without opening his eyes. "It's all right."

"I'm... I'm sure he'd be here if he could."

"So am I," Harry said, though he wasn't sure at all. "Snape is a liar."

Hermione didn't say anything else, and after a while Harry found himself slipping into a doze.

He awakened with a start to the sound of a door slamming downstairs.

The room was now shrouded in darkness, but Harry was able to make out Hermione, who was still sleeping in her own bed on the other side of the room.

He listened, stilling his breath.

There were voices, though faint. He strained to catch any words.

One of the voices was Remus. Harry had never been more certain of anything in his life.

Remus was downstairs.

With another quick look to make sure Hermione was still asleep, Harry crept out of bed and toward the dim light filtering through the gap under the door.

He intended to run down the stairs, storming into the front room before anyone could stop him or make Remus leave.

He got only as far as the doorway.

There, the floor ended abruptly. There was no corridor. No staircase. It was like standing at the edge of a dark pit and not being able to see the bottom.

He knew he should be seeing the floor of the first level. He should have been looking into the kitchen, if the floor had merely become invisible. Instead, there was simply nothing there.

Sticking his body out as far as he dared, he craned his neck in the direction of the light. He was almost certain that it was coming from where the corridor ended and the stairwell leading down to the front room should have been.

"I know you know where he is!"

Harry's heart almost stopped. That was Remus' voice! There couldn't be any mistake about it now.

"Just tell me where he is. I know the nurse went to see him this morning. I have a right to know what's happening to him!"

Harry couldn't hear the response, but he knew Remus was talking with Snape.

"I don't care what Dumbledore thinks! I want to know where Harry is!"

There was another crash -- Harry thought he heard glass breaking -- and then Remus' angry voice came again.

"You're going to tell me where he is!"

Finally coming out of his stunned stupor, Harry cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled as loudly as he could. "REMUS! I'M HERE!"

"You're going to tell me where he is, Snape, if I have to beat it out of you!"

"REMUS!"

Harry felt himself being grabbed from behind, but he jerked out of Hermione's grasp, leaning even farther out of the doorway. "REMUS! I'M HERE! I'M HERE!"

"This isn't over! I'm not going to leave this alone!"

"REMUS!"

The sound of a door being slammed shook the entire building.

The baby started to cry, her shrill wail filling the silence.

Harry, clutching the door frame for support, felt hot tears of frustration spring to his eyes.

Behind him, Hermione was comforting the baby, but just then Harry didn't care.

Something was happening.

The floor was slowly appearing, becoming more solid by the second. In less than a minute, it was all back; the corridor, the walls, the floor, and the staircase.

He took off, ignoring Hermione's exclamations.

On the stairs, he nearly collided with Snape, who was coming up.

"Potter!"

Harry swerved to avoid him, hitting his ribs painfully against the banister. In another minute, he was clawing and pounding on the locked door he was sure Remus had used to leave.

"Stop it, Potter!"

"He was here! I heard him! You had no right to make him go!"

Snape didn't say anything.

After a while, Harry became tired and slumped against the door. "You had no right."

"Lupin had no right to come here."

Harry turned to glare at him, his wand already in his hand. "He had every right to come here! Open this door!"

"Harry," Hermione said, appearing behind Snape. "Listen to me. You have to calm down. This isn't going to do anyone any good."

Harry raised his wand threateningly. "Open the door! I want out! You have no right to keep me prisoner here!"

"You made yourself prisoner, Potter, with your own foolish actions."

A curse was on the tip of Harry's tongue. He knew, of course, that it wouldn't do any good, hexing Snape. It certainly wouldn't make him open the door and let Harry out. But he would have done it, despite that, if not for the fact that at that moment his attention was caught by something shiny reflecting the light of a gas lamp.

Snape's heavy cloak was hanging on a hook by the door. A chain hung out of one pocket, and on it was the key that would open the door.

He flicked his wand, sending blue sparks hurtling in Snape's direction.

They died long before reaching the target.

"Babbling curse, Potter?" Snape asked, smirking. "You can do better than that. Perhaps you best wait until your magic returns before you attempt to hex me again."

"When will it return?" Harry demanded through gritted teeth.

"I wouldn't know. I'm not familiar with that aspect of wizard pregnancy." A cruel smile appeared in the corner of his mouth. "Perhaps never. Imagine, The Boy Who Lived -- a Squib."

"That's not going to happen," Hermione said. "Harry, why don't you come into the kitchen. We can have some tea."

Harry glared for another moment, then lowered his wand and nodded.

Snape followed them into the kitchen, watching Harry closely the entire time.

"There," Hermione said, pouring three cups. "I think we all need to calm down a little."

Harry sipped the hot liquid, but he had no intention of calming down.

"Granger," Snape said, "I have a message from the Headmaster for you. Now is as good a time as any."

Harry watched out of the corner of his eyes as Snape led Hermione to the other side of the room. Their heads were soon bent close together over a piece of parchment.

Now was the time. But how...?

At that moment, the baby's thin wail came, muffled only slightly by the distance and the closed kitchen door.

Without a word, Harry got up and walked out of the room.

Snape and Hermione paused their conversation to watch him go, but Harry did not stop or look back.

He knew he only had a few moments...

The kitchen door banged open, and Snape burst out. "Potter!"

"What?" Harry asked from the stairs.

Snape looked from Harry to his cloak, which was still hanging on its hook by the door. His lips thinned, and he shook his head. "Nothing. Go on."

Giving him a disgusted look, Harry turned away and continued his climb, pretending that it was an effort to climb each step. After having found every movement difficult during his pregnancy, it was not too difficult to feign exhaustion.

He could feel Snape's eyes on him the whole way up.

He thought about other things. The baby. Naming the baby. He imagined he could see long lists of names in his mind.

Snape wasn't going to find out his plan.

Finally in the bedroom, he picked up his crying daughter and rocked her gently.

"We're getting out of here," he whispered into her tiny ear. "We're getting out of here. Shhh..."

She quieted, as though understanding what he was saying and approving of the plan.

Somehow, believing that gave him added strength.

He put her down, gently tucking the blanket around her.

Downstairs, he could hear Snape getting ready to leave, giving Hermione last minute instructions. He heard the door shut, and then footsteps on the stairs.

Hermione came in. Right away, Harry could tell something was wrong from the way she was fiddling with the sash of her robes. It was a long-time nervous habit.

"Something wrong?"

She shrugged halfheartedly, sinking down onto her bed. "I... had a letter from Dumbledore."

"Bad news?"

"I don't know."

Harry didn't have time for guessing games, but Hermione looked truly lost. "What did he say?"

"He wants us to marry."

Harry sat bolt upright, staring at her in disbelief. "What?"

"He says it's the only way for you to return to Hogwarts."

"That makes no sense!"

"He says... the people who want the baby just know there is one. They might have assumed you were pregnant -- correctly, of course. But if we marry, everyone will think I was the one pregnant. Then the baby won't be in danger anymore."

"That's crazy, even if I believed it! Besides, you and Ron --"

"I'll do it, Harry, if that's what we have to do to keep you and the baby safe."

"Thanks," Harry said, snorting, "but no thanks. Sorry, Hermione, but I don't buy Dumbledore's story one bit. The only ones who might fall for it are the media. I think that's all Dumbledore cares about these days, with his campaign for Minister of Magic. I think having me get pregnant by a Hogwarts professor would ruin his chances at election."

Even as he said it, Harry didn't know when he had come up with the idea, but somehow, it sounded true.

"What? Harry, that's... that's..."

"All right. Maybe it's a little crazy. But I still won't do it!"

Hermione was still staring at him, and Harry could see the wheels in her head turning rapidly. She was suspicious. And that wasn't good. A suspicious Hermione would watch him very closely, ruining his chance for escape.

"I'm going to bed," Harry said. "It must be in the middle of the night. I'm exhausted."

"Of course. I'll feed the baby for you."

Harry had forgotten that in his focus on his plan. "Thanks."

Getting in bed, he turned toward the wall and started thinking. There was so much he needed to go over, and time was short. By now Snape was at Hogwarts, and probably telling Dumbledore everything that had happened. By morning Dumbledore might take action to prevent Harry from leaving. Maybe even to force him to go along with his crazy idea.

He listened to the sounds in the room. Hermione fed the baby dutifully, then retired to her own bed. He heard her take out a book. Then, the only sound was that of pages turning.

For all he knew, she intended to stay awake all night. Maybe she even guessed his plan.

It was torture lying there with his eyes closed, wide awake, wondering if it was all for nothing. Dumbledore could be on his way already. Or he could be doing something to Remus. Making sure Harry wouldn't find him even if he succeeded in getting out of the house.

He might be wrong about Dumbledore. He certainly didn't want to be right. But just then he couldn't take the chance of trusting the wrong person.

He could only trust himself...

At long last, he heard Hermione put down the book, turn down the lamp, and settle down in bed. His hand gripped his wand tighter.

He wasn't going to get out by waiting for her to fall asleep -- he realized that now. He would have to stun her.

He imagined the room in his mind. He had spent close to eight months there, and he could picture it easily. His bed... Hermione's bed...

In one motion, he threw back the covers and pointed his wand.

"Stupefy!"

The spell hit the bed with such force that the headboard banged into the wall.

Quickly, Harry ran across the room.

Hermione was breathing, and her color was normal. A thin rivulet of blood dripped from her nose, but otherwise she seemed all right.

"Sorry, Hermione. You're a good friend, and I know you mean well. But I have to go."

The baby, awakened by the commotion and light, began to fuss.

He picked her up, wrapped her tightly in her blanket and Hermione's cloak for warmth, and filled a bottle in case she got hungry on their journey.

"We're going, baby. We're getting out of here."

Now that it was time, he almost hated to do it. What if he was putting his baby at risk by taking her away? Maybe he should leave her with Hermione.

But he couldn't do that. Just looking at her, with her bright eyes staring back at him, he knew he could never leave her.

"We're going," he murmured one more time, picking her up.

He approached the dark doorway, suddenly terrified that he would find nothing beyond it. If that was the case, he didn't know how he would get downstairs.

But the floor was just as solid as ever, and the stairs took him all the way down without incident.

From his breast pocket he took out the key he had copied -- it had taken him only a second to do it -- and fit it into the lock.

It was a bad fit. He used all his strength, moving the key a millimeter at a time. Finally, the lock clicked.

He pulled open the door, peering into the darkness beyond. It had been so long since he and Hermione had been taken to the house by Snape, he almost didn't recognize the staircase.

"Lumos!"

His wand tip lit up the tunnel. Holding the baby tightly to his chest, Harry stepped through the doorway, pulled the door shut behind him, and locked it. Unless Hermione had some way of contacting the outside world -- which he wouldn't put past her -- she would be trapped with no way of following him.

The climb down the steep, wobbly stairs was harrowing. The banister had almost rotted away in some places. Harry had to go very slowly, fearing losing his balance and falling, or dropping the baby.

The door at the end of the staircase was not locked, just as he remembered. The tunnel was just as dark and damp.

The walk seemed endless. Half of him kept expecting to walk into Dumbledore, or Snape, coming the other way. Coming to find him, stop him from leaving, and force him to bend to their will...

The baby fussed. He had to stop to feed her, because he couldn't hold the baby, the bottle, and his wand and still keep walking, and wasn't willing to continue his walk in complete darkness.

He was losing time, and he knew it. It could be morning already. It could be long past sunrise, because the perpetual dimness of the house never allowed him to judge time accurately, and he had forgotten to check the clock as he left.

Finally, he came to the stairs that would take him out of the tunnel and back out into the world. Pushing open the door at the top, he was so sure that he would find it locked. They wouldn't let him leave. Not this easily.

But the door opened, and he walked quickly through the building, choking on the dust his hurried footsteps raised. Everything was just as he remembered.

He made it outside. The world was gray with predawn light, and damp, and cold, but to him it was the most beautiful sight. He had been without natural light and without fresh air for eight months. He couldn't get enough of it.

"See?" he whispered to the baby, though she was fast asleep. "There's a whole world out here. Not just that old room they had us in. We're never going back. I don't care who comes after us. I will protect us... and so will Remus."

He pulled his cloak more tightly around him, trying to keep out the cold and dampness. He hugged the baby to his chest, and started walking.

He didn't want to think about how he would find Remus, or even how he would get back to civilization. He didn't know where he was. He might not even be in Britain anymore.

The sun was rising over the horizon.

Harry dug in the pocket of his trousers, and took out the few coins he found there. They had made the journey from Hogwarts with him, and he had no other money.

He counted them. It wasn't much, but he hoped it would be enough.

Dumbledore was probably monitoring transportation in the area. He probably had Aurors on the alert. But what else could Harry do?

Minutes later, the Knight Bus careened to a stop in front of him, and Harry adjusted the hood of his cloak to hide his face better.

"Where to, Miss?"

Harry startled, then realized that the driver saw only a bundled up person with a baby, and assumed that he was a witch.

"London," he said, making his voice as high as he could. "How much?"

"One galleon, two sickles."

"I only have sixteen sickles."

"That'll take you as far as the outskirts."

Harry nodded, handing over the money. Anywhere was better than where he was.

The bus began to move, and Harry made his way to the back, where he settled down with his back to the driver. As far as he could see, there were no passengers on the bus, at least on the first deck.

For the first hour, Harry remained tense. Every bump in the road, and every time the bus appeared to slow down, or stopped to pick up a passenger, he imagined Aurors storming in.

The baby slept peacefully in his arms. Harry tried to convince himself that she knew more than he did.

After a while, the scenery outside the window began to change. What was flat landscape without a sign of life became hills dotted with farm houses and barns. Then, they rolled through the first small town. More people got on.

Harry retreated to a corner, where there was less chance of someone disturbing him.

He was starting to recognize landmarks. They were close to the city now.

The baby was still asleep when the bus stopped.

"Miss!" the driver called, turning around. "Your stop!"

Harry walked quickly past the other passengers, though most did not look up from their books, newspapers, or knitting. "Thank you."

The driver tipped his hat, turning back to the road. Leaving Harry at the side of the road, the bus pulled out.

"Where are we?" Harry wondered aloud, looking around.

He saw a Muggle shop in front of him. Figuring he could ask for directions, he entered it.

"Excuse me," he said, still in his falsely high voice. "Do you have a map of the area?"

The clerk, an elderly man chewing a wad of tobacco, pulled a tattered map from under the counter. "Help yerself."

"Thank you," Harry said, taking it and spreading it out.

He wasn't too far from where he thought Diagon Alley was, but now that he was looking at a map, another name jumped out at him.

His tentative plan -- the only thing he could think of, really -- had been to get to Diagon Alley, get some gold, and use it to either engage an entire fleet of owls, in case Dumbledore was watching for that as well, or to use it to pay for transportation.

Now, as he stared at the tiny dot in the corner of the map, another plan came to him.

He remembered Remus telling him about his home once. How the Ministry had almost taken it, and only a loophole in the law prevented it. He had mentioned the name of a town.

"Thank you," Harry said again, pushing the map across the counter.

"Goin' ter buy sommat?"

"No. Sorry."

The man went back to his newspaper.

Harry left the shop. There was a bench outside, and he sat down.

It was all very well to say he was going to go to Remus' hometown and look for his house. But how was he going to get there with no money? If he had been alone, maybe he could have walked, but with a baby that was impossible.

The baby chose that time to wake up, her little face screwed up in a pitiful wail. He fed her the last of the milk.

He watched her yawn and close her eyes again, then sighed and looked around. He couldn't spend the rest of the day sitting on a bench.

His eyes traveled across the road.

A pawn shop! That was it! If he could get some Muggle money, he could take a Muggle bus!

Harry dug in his pockets. He came up with two sticks of gum, a pencil stub, a marble, scraps of parchment, lint, and the key he had used to make his escape.

None of these items seemed particularly likely to help him.

Then he almost smacked himself on the forehead. He was a wizard! What was he thinking?

True, he was an underage wizard, and using magic in a Muggle neighborhood could get him into a lot of trouble, but then, he was already in a lot of trouble, and it still wasn't anything compared to the kind of trouble he would be in when Dumbledore and the Order eventually caught up with him. What was important now was getting to Remus.

He looked around cautiously. There seemed to be no one around.

Using the baby in her voluminous blankets to block his wand hand from view, Harry took out his wand and tapped the key and marble.

Six years of Transfiguration under the critical eye of Minerva McGonagall paid off. Instead of a brass key and a red glass marble, he was holding a small gold jewelry box peppered with tiny red stones.

The store owner took one look at the box and scoffed. "Ain' real gol', dearie. I'll give yer twen'y."

"Thirty," Harry said.

"Twen'y fi', an' tha's a real barg'n."

Nodding, Harry accepted the money. The money would be enough to get him where he wanted to go, and he could probably buy some formula for the baby, if he came across a grocers.

Twenty minutes later, he was on board a Muggle bus, receiving odd looks from Muggles, who must have found his clothing extremely out of place.

The baby slept, thankfully. Harry stared out the window and wondered how far behind him the Order was.

Maybe they didn't know he had escaped. But he doubted it. By now Hermione would have woken up, and the more he thought about it the more certain he was that she had a way to contact Dumbledore or Snape. They wouldn't have left two teenagers alone with no way to signal for help if they needed it.

Maybe it was all for nothing, and Dumbledore, along with a dozen Aurors, would be waiting for him when he got off the bus.

"Next stop, Serenity!"

Harry startled out of his thoughts.

Serenity. Somehow, the name seemed fitting. He could see Remus living in a small town with just such a name.

The bus came to a stop. "Serenity!"

Right away, Harry could see that the town had a strong wizard presence. Perhaps Muggles could not see it, because he saw several of them walk right past without so much as a curious glance, but the first building Harry saw was the post office.

It had no sign, but he knew it was indeed a post office because several large barn owls occupied perches on either side of the door.

A sudden idea came to him.

He went inside.

The witch behind the counter eyed him curiously. "What can I do for you?"

"I need directions to a friend's house. I know he lives in this town. Remus Lupin?"

She reached over to a shelf and took down a thick leather-bound book. "A registry of all the residents," she said, handing it to him.

Harry flipped quickly to the right section. Remus' name was the fourth one down, right below Long, Emily.

"Thank you," he said, pushing back the book. "Can you tell me if you accept Muggle money here?"

The witch cocked her head to one side, studying him. "You need to send a letter?"

"Yes," Harry said. "It's quite urgent."

She nodded slowly. "I will be going to the bank after closing today. Yes, I will accept Muggle money."

Harry wrote his message quickly. He watched the owl fly off, heading in the direction of London. "Thank you very much."

As it turned out, Remus didn't live in town. Harry passed Number 16, Walnut Grove, and saw, instead of Number 17, that the road stretched out into the distance, with no other houses in sight.

He started walking. He thought he had gone about a mile before the pavement ended, and the road became a packed dirt trail.

The baby was fussing. She had to be hungry again, but Harry hadn't been able to find formula in the small convenience shop in town. He had nothing to soothe her with.

"We're almost there."

He hoped it was true. All he could see in front of him was the unpaved road and endless hills. There wasn't even a tree in sight, except for what looked like a small grove on the horizon.

Eventually, he reached it. The road simply ended at the foot of a large oak.

Harry looked around. There wasn't a dwelling in sight.

It would make sense for Remus to have his house within the grove, but Harry hesitated to enter it. The trees stood closely together, blocking out most of the sunlight, and the place looked about as inviting as the Forbidden Forest.

The baby started to cry again.

Taking out his wand, Harry started forward.

He came across the house only a few minutes later.

"Remus?"

There was no answer.

He knocked on the door until his knuckles were bruised.

For all he knew, Harry realized with a sinking feeling, Remus hadn't been at this house in years.

"Alohamora!"

The door swung open. He went inside, hoping there were no traps or wards.

The house was nothing more than a one room shack, with a kitchen table, stove, and sink at one end, and a bookcase and lumpy couch at the other. A pillow and blanket folded at one end of it signified that the couch also served as the bed.

Someone definitely lived there. In the sink, a charmed brush scrubbed at a small pile of dirty dishes. A tea set was still on the table, along with a platter of half-eaten -- but fresh -- crumpets and biscuits.

There seemed nothing to do but to wait. Either Remus would return, or someone else would come and get him. Either way, this was the end of the road for Harry.

He sat down on the coach to wait. The long walk, not to mention to his pre-dawn escape, had exhausted him. It felt good to get off his feet.

He picked up the paper lying on the floor.

HARRY POTTER STILL MISSING!

Harry frowned at the front-page headline, underneath which appeared his photo with the caption 'The Boy Who Lived: Dead or Alive?'

"Real funny..." he muttered darkly. He threw the paper down in disgust.

So the whole world knew he was missing. He wondered what story Dumbledore had fed them.

*POP*

Harry looked up, startled and expecting to see Aurors -- or Death Eaters -- with wands drawn.

What he saw instead was Remus.

Having Apparated in with his back to Harry, Remus had his wand out. A millisecond later he had whirled about, the wand pointing straight at Harry's chest.

"Who in bloody hell are you, and what are you doing in my house?!"

Harry, too stunned to answer, suddenly realized that just as many people he had met that day, Remus couldn't actually see him under the heavy cloak and hood. Quickly, he pushed the hood back. "It's me, Remus. Harry."

Remus stared at him with his mouth open. "Harry? What are you... How did you...?"

Harry shrugged. "I escaped."

"Escaped?"

Harry nodded. "Can you stop pointing your wand at me now?"

Blinking, Remus lowered his wand hand. "Sorry. The wards tipped me off someone was here."

"Never mind that. We have a lot to talk about. I have --"

He was interrupted by the baby, who had been awakened by the noise.

Remus stiffened, his expression suddenly stony. "Is that the baby?"

"Shhh," Harry murmured, rocking the baby gently. He looked up at Remus. "You knew about the baby?"

"Dumbledore told me. You and Hermione..." Remus shook his head, turning away. "I'm happy for you, Harry, really."

"What are you talking about?" Harry demanded. "This isn't Hermione's baby!"

Remus turned back, frowning. "What do you mean? That's why you and Hermione went into hiding, isn't it?"

"No! They've been lying to you! I was in that house all along! I heard you yelling at Snape! I was upstairs the whole time and I couldn't do anything to let you know I was there!"

Remus promptly sank down onto one of the kitchen chairs. "What?"

"They wouldn't let me contact you when I was at Hogwarts, either. They kept telling me you were on a mission!"

"I was," Remus said, frowning. "Kingsley and I were sent on a wild goose chase through France. When I came back you were gone, and no one would tell me where you were. I looked everywhere, Harry, I didn't know what to think --"

"Snape told me you were missing. That they thought you defected."

Remus' face contorted with anger.

"I knew that wasn't true," Harry said quickly. "When I heard you arguing with Snape last night, I knew they were keeping us apart on purpose. I knew I had to get out of there."

Remus was silent. After a moment, Harry realized he was staring at the baby.

"She's yours. Ours, I mean. Hermione just came along with me because, well, Dumbledore said I had to go into hiding, and she offered to come along. She's just a friend, Remus. She and Ron are in love." He held the baby out. "Look at her. She's absolutely beautiful."

Remus didn't move.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked quietly. "Remus? Say something."

"Dumbledore said you and Hermione will be getting married. He had his legal aide draw up the paperwork. I saw it."

"What?!"

"It's all being arranged..." Remus' shoulders rose and fell in a halfhearted shrug. "He said it was the only way to keep you safe. Harry, if that's true, then --"

"Don't! Don't even say it! Look at what Dumbledore's done already! How can you believe anything he says? I bet I was never in danger in the first place! THE ONLY PERSON I'M MARRYING IS YOU!"

There was complete silence.

"That is," Harry said, his voice wavering, "if you want to marry me, after all of this."

Remus raised his eyes, meeting Harry's. He smiled weakly. "Harry, I wou--"

Whatever Remus had been about to say was lost. The door, nearly knocked off its hinges by the force of the spell that had opened it, banged hard against the wall.

In the doorway stood the people Harry had been expecting to see all morning; Dumbledore, Snape, and, peering meekly from behind them, Hermione.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, smiling falsely at him, "you had us quite worried."

"I'll bet," Harry said, rising. "The game is over. You are not going to force me into hiding again, and I will not marry Hermione. I'm staying here with Remus."

"I'm afraid that's quite impossible," Dumbledore said calmly. "You can't realize what kind of danger you're in. No, Harry, you will have to come with us now. Give the baby to Ms Granger."

Harry hugged the baby more tightly to his chest. His other hand gripped his wand. "Never."

"Albus --" Remus began.

"Shut up," Snape sneered at him. "Haven't you done enough?"

Dumbledore held up his hand for silence. "Harry, I realize you must be upset. After the harrowing morning you must have had, I don't wonder." He took two steps into the room. "Come along, or --"

"There he is! That's Harry Potter!"

Everyone in the room turned to look. A crowd of reporters was running across the scraggly front yard, mindless of the thorny weeds that ripped the hems of their robes.

"I called them," Harry said, causing everyone to turn back toward him. "I told them they'd find me by following Professor Dumbledore."

"Harry Potter!" yelled the first reporter to reach the door. "Can you tell us where you've been the past eight months?"

"Certainly," Harry said, hoping desperately that he had not misunderstood Remus' intentions, "I was traveling with my fiance."

The reporter looked too stunned to speak. Another pushed her out of the way. "Hermione Granger?"

"No," Harry said, forcing a laugh. "My friend just came along to help with the baby."

There was a complete uproar as every reporter leaped toward him at once. Dumbledore was elbowed out of the way.

Harry took a deep breath. "I'm proud to announce my formal engagement to my former Defense professor, Remus John Lupin, and the birth of our daughter --" He looked at Remus, giving him a quick smile. "Lily."

For a while, nothing else could be heard. Harry had expected an explosive reaction, but the sight of the reporters almost drooling over their quills as they took notes at mad speed was something else.

Taking his eyes off them, he turned to Dumbledore, who was watching the scene with a dark expression. "Those are live-quote quills, Professor. At this very moment the story is going to print."

"Harry!" yelled a man in a bright yellow cloak. "This is for Wizard's Wireless, and we're live! What would you like to tell your fellow witches and wizards, Harry?"

Turning his back on Dumbledore and Snape, Harry stepped forward. "I would just like to say...."