🥀ℙ𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕤𝕤: ℍ.ℙ🥀

𝔼𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕐𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕋𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖

Harry walks softly toward an open door: Lupin's
office -- and peers in. Lupin stands over a battered suitcase, filling it with the last of his books. Without turning, he speaks.

"Hello, Harry.", Harry jumps. Lupin turns, smiles through haggard eyes.

"Saw you coming.", The Marauder's Map lies open on an otherwise bare desk. Harry nods, looks back to Lupin. Unable to disguise his shock at Lupin's appearance.

"I've looked worse, believe me.", Lublin laughs lightly.

Harry eyes the open desk drawers... and the bare bookshelves...

"You've been sacked.", Harry says sadly.

"Resigned, actually.", Lupin corrects him.

"Resigned! But why!"

"It seems that someone has let slip the nature of my condition.", Lupin sighs.

"Snape.", Harry grits his teeth.

"Whoever. It was bound to get out. This time tomorrow, the owls will start arriving. Parents will not want a -- someone like me -- teaching their children."

"But Dumbledore --", Harry starts.

"Has already risked enough on my behalf. Besides, people like me, well... let's just say I'm used to this by now. But before I go, tell me about your Patrons."

"Well. At first I thought it was a horse, or perhaps a unicorn, but I think it was-"

"A stag."

"Yes."

"And Emily's was-"

"A Doe?"

"Yes."

"Your father used to transform into a stag. That's how he was able to keep me company when I became... sick. He was a great friend, James. And your mother's Patronus was a doe.", Lupin smiles wanly, lifts his sorry suitcase. Then stops.

"There are stories about your parents, you know. Some are even true. But I think it's safe to say, in the end, you'll know them best by getting to know yourself. Stay together, stay close.", Lupin then -- with a wicked twinkle -- raises his wand.

"Mischief managed.", Harry watches the Map go blank.

"Oh and Harry."

"Yes, Professor."

"Life is short. Do something before the opportunity is taken away.", Harry nods and looks down a moment, thinking of what to say. But when he looks back up, Lupin is gone.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/
Ron stands amid a circle of excited Gryffindors.

"Stand back, I said! I'll take it upstairs if you don't settle!", As Harry arrives, he glances at Hermione, who clears her throat loudly. The others turn, begin all speaking at once.

"Harry! Wherever did you get it!", Neville asks.

"Can I have a go, Harry? After you, of course-"

"Quiet!", Ron exclaims. Everyone obliged.

"Thank you. Let the man through.", Mystified, Harry steps forward, the boys peeling away, clearing his view of the broomstick in Ron's hands. The
label gleams: "FIREBOLT."

Harry turns.

"Whose is that?", He asks.

"Whose is it? It's yours, mate.", Ron says as everyone laughs.

"Who? But... how?"

"It's a mystery. Though... this
fell out of the wrapping.", Emily smirks handing him a feather.