Little Miss Marauder

Chapter 27 - You're Not His Family

Chapter 27 – You're Not His Family

Once he had walked away Harry didn't know where to go. All he had wanted for so long was a family. Sure, he had the Dursleys, but they fell under the loosest definition of family there is. He just wanted people to unconditionally care for him. He had managed to find that with the Weasleys and Hermione, they were his family, they wanted him when no one else did. The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb after all. But before Hogwarts, Harry always imagined having a different childhood, even just the one family member that cared for him. He had now found that at Hogwarts, and now this woman has come along, his fathers sister and he had no idea what to do. Did he even want that anymore?

No. He may have hoped for her before but now, at the start of his third year, he had changed. He had accepted his upbringing and was happy here. Why did she think that she could come along now?

Remus turned to his old friend, seeing the shock still present on her face. He knew she wanted to get to know the boy before she told him. She didn't want him to find out this way, to think she didn't want to know him. But there they sat, round the table in Hagrid's hut, where her fear came to fruition in front of her. Remus had nothing to say to her. What was there he could say that could help? He knew she didn't want to hear excuses for the boy, she didn't feel as though she deserved it. He had known her for over 20 years after all, he knew what to do around her.

The two other students, however, did not understand why the two new professors in front of them were not talking, why this supposed family member of Harry's was not chasing after him. "You're not his family you know." The Weasley finally piped up. "Ronald!" Hermione exclaimed, slightly smacking him on the shoulder. "No. She should know. You're not Harry's family. Maybe you were once but not anymore. He's our family now, because we are there for him, we care for him. Not you." Hermione was embarrassed that Ron had spoken to a teacher in such a way, but yet she said nothing more to contest his claims. What could she say against him when she believed the same thing. Maybe this woman did have a valid reason, but the children were only thirteen, they were acting on their loyalty to Harry and their own emotions. So, with a few parting words to Hagrid, the two walked out of the hut, in search of the young Potter boy.

"You know I always told Dumbledore he should go with you. Was nearly just going to bring him straight to you instead of going to those muggles, no matter what Dumbledore wanted." The older Potter let out a huff of slight laughter at Hagrid's statement, knowing that even with his fierce loyalty to Professor Dumbledore, his words were full of truth. "I tried to get him you know. About two years after it all happened I almost got it to the Wizengamot." This shocked the two men left at the table. They knew that she had fought hard to get custody of the boy in the first instance, but Dumbledore used his influence to ensure he went to the Dursleys, but they were unaware that she had tried again. Still staring into her mug of tea she kept going "I tried at least once a year until the ministry found out about my condition. After that they never even considered my cases. I... I never gave up. But when the ministry threaten to pin you with treason, you're not exactly likely to win custody of the boy who lived."

Remus thought over what he had just heard, maybe he should have tried harder to contact her. He just stopped when he believed she didn't want to hear from him, not someone who would remind her of what she had lost, but all she had really needed was a reminder of what she had. The happiness that they all had during the time they were all together, when they were a family. He remembered the pure joy on her face when Lily and James announced their pregnancy, the utter adoration when she first held baby Harry. All of these memories he had avoided because they were too painful, filled with people he had lost. Yet he was just looking at them in the wrong way. So, there the two friends sat for the next hour before dinner, around Hagrid's table, holding onto each-others hand and laughing about their happy memories, Hagrid booming in with his perspective on certain stories.

Harry did attend dinner that evening, but he didn't see Professor Lupin or Potter, that he was glad for. He couldn't face either of them after that. He was angry, angry and embarrassed. Not for the way he had acted, but for the way that she knew he existed but didn't seem to care. For the way he had yearned for a family for so long, yet there was one out there that just didn't want him. He didn't need her. He had Ron, Hermione and the rest of the Weasleys. Why would he ever need her? Coming to this conclusion Harry smiled for the first time since his DADA lesson and joined in with his friends teasing Neville for forgetting his robes again.

After the events of the previous day, Cassadee got up early for her second day of teaching, going to get breakfast directly from the kitchen to greet the elves that she had not seen in many years. She managed to not even see a single student or other teacher until the first year Slytherins and Hufflepuffs came in alongside Remus for the first class of the day. So then together the professors introduced the topic of the first two weeks, Werewolf bites and how to cure them. The two shared small smiles at certain questions that students asked, them both having first-hand knowledge, and just like that they were back, the two working in harmony with each other, sometimes even pausing for the other to complete their sentences.

McGonagall was observing their teaching, under Dumbledore's request, and in her cat state, she grinned at two of her old favourite students, glad that they had found their way back to each other. Both had seen the familiar cat in the corner, winking at her occasionally during their lecturing as they continued through the remainder of the lesson. This was the start of their ending.