Remus Lupin and the Prisoner of Azkaban

Chapter 31: The First Lesson

Thursday began as a hectic mix of double Defense Against the Dark Arts with his 7th year Slytherins---3 of whom stayed behind to request further explanation of his lecture on 3rd century wizard-philosopher's thoughts on the ethical implications of the Unforgivable Curses on human killing magical beasts, which was not a subject he was all that well-versed in himself---further catch up work from the last full moon and the last two days of searching, grading essays, beginning to write mock O.W.L. exams for his panicking 5th years, sending an order from the owlery for some lightly cursed quills for his 6th years, and remembering to shovel some food into himself so he didn't expire. And worrying.

    Worrying about Harry. Worrying about the boggart. Worrying about how advanced the Charm was--it was not easy magic and on top of that, needing to have enough of a grasp on your emotions and memories to work them into a shield....Was he expecting too much from a 13 year old? Was he being unfair to even offer this as an option, giving him false hope? And on the other hand, who was he to decide what was too advanced for Harry? He was undoubtedly as smart as James, as smart as Lily. Would Dumbledore agree? Was that why Remus had not so much as asked permission as planned on begging forgiveness if this blew up in his face? Was he being reckless, too naive and nostalgic at having a chance to spend time with Harry to truly and dispassionately consider all of the implications of his actions? He thought of Harry and the the intense determination on his young face, James' face; James' son. Lily's son. Remus'...Harry. Remus sighed and handed the envelope containing his order to the large school owl that stepped down onto his arm. It clamped it in it's sharp beak and made a soft, acknowledging noise before pushing off and soaring out the window.

    No. He doubted very much that being dispassionate was an option for him when Harry was involved. And was that dangerous? Was some hidden part of him viewing this as a second chance to feel that old belonging? He knew that Harry was his own person, with a separate history, knew that very well. Did his heart? Was his need to help and guide and protect just some sort of selfish desire to shoehorn himself into this child's life? Did he deserve that? Well, he knew the answer to that. No, no he did not. Where had he been, in the time of greatest need? What had he done? Failed to save the boy's family--failed to be the boy's family as he had hidden away in the Muggle world.

    He stared out into the night, leaned on the Owlery's windowsill, watching the silent form of the bird swoop into the frozen dark with his letter. Was he doing the right thing?

    He blinked. Dark...it was dark. With a start, he checked his watch before clattering down the stairs at speed, wincing as his overworked legs protested. You've spent all day agonizing over something you're going to miss BECAUSE of your agonizing? He cursed himself as he dashed back to his rooms to grab the trunk and stash of chocolate frogs he had collected in preparation.

As he arrived, only 5 minutes late, he saw that Harry had already lit the lamps and was perched on the lip of a desk in the back of the room. He stood as Remus entered at a somewhat more stately pace, having caught his breath at the end of the hall---'why are you late to class, Professor?'--- to not cut such a harried figure in front of someone he was supposed to be teaching. As he heaved the trunk up into Binns' desk, Harry drew closer, at once looking curious and apprehensive. "What's that?"

Taking off the cloak he had worn up to the freezing Owlrey, he answered, "Another boggart. I've been combing the case ever since Tuesday, and, very luckily, I found this one lurking inside Mr. Filch's filing cabinet." 'Found' being a very liberal use of the term, he had to admit. Was grudgingly made aware of? He laid his cloak down on the desk beside the case and continued, "It's the nearest we'll get to a real Dementor. The boggart will turn into a Dementor when he sees you, so we'll be able to practice on him. I can store him in my office when we're not using him; there's a cupboard under my desk he'll like."