'All right! Fine!' He bit his lip. 'Are you going with me?'
'I believe I will sit this one out.' Snape stared him down for another minute. 'I trust you will control your temper in the Headmaster's office.'
Feeling mulish, Harry debated ignoring the reminder of his last loss of temper in that office, or flat out refusing to agree to mind his temper at all. But Snape was right, and he wouldn't get anywhere with Dumbledore if he threw another tantrum, no matter how satisfying it might feel in the moment. Still . . . 'You do?'
'Yes.'
Harry offered him a brief smile. 'Thanks.'
Snape waved the issue away, then glanced at the clock. 'I suggest you get a move on.'
'Yes, sir.' Harry managed not to sigh again, but only barely.
'Do you wish an escort?'
For a second, Harry wanted to say yes . . . but he was going to have to get used to not having Snape there every moment to guard him, and make sure he didn't get waylaid by anyone. Besides, who was he going to run into here? Better to have a dry run at being by himself before all the students arrived. 'No, but thanks. I'll be okay.'
'Very well.' Snape bent his head back over the potions journal he was reading. He didn't look up as Harry stood there, but cleared his throat after a minute. 'Your procrastinating will only delay the inevitable, and will grate on my nerves. Now go.'
'Yes, sir.' Harry slipped out of Snape's quarters and headed for the Headmaster's Office. The school was very quiet, even seeming to be free of ghosts for the moment. The corridors were dimly lit, and everything shone with high polish. Filch must have been busy the last month or so. Harry realized, after he'd finally climbed to the second floor, that he was dragging his feet, so he picked up his pace. He didn't
Once he stood in front of the gargoyles, he paused, gathering what courage he could, then moved forward slightly and said, 'I have an appointment with the Headmaster.'
The gargoyles leaped aside and the wall behind them opened up, showing him the spiral staircase. Harry stepped onto it as it started to turn, matching the turning of his stomach. Then he was standing in front of the oak door with the brass knocker, but before he could put knuckles to wood, he heard Dumbledore's voice call, 'Come in, Harry.'
Harry hated when he did that.
But he drew a deep breath and opened the door anyway, then slipped inside. The first thing he saw was Fawkes, looking very plumage-y, full-colored and cheerful, with a broad wing-spread that flapped several times as Harry closed the door behind him. The second thing he noticed was movement out of the corner of his eye, which resolved into Remus when he turned to look.
Feeling his face redden, Harry looked down swiftly. He heard Remus get up and move toward him and forced himself not to shrink back.
'Harry?'
'I thought this was a private chat,' Harry muttered.
'My apologies, Harry,' Dumbledore said. 'Professor Lupin was just leaving.'
'Oh.'
Remus had come closer, and still, Harry couldn't bring himself to look at the man he'd yelled at a few days earlier. He could see the tips of Remus' shoes, poking out from beneath his teaching robes, and he stared at them, thinking about how scuffed the toes were, and how Remus always seemed to get the raw end of the deal. He was a werewolf, after all, made one when he was only five years old. If anyone knew what a life of being hated and discriminated against was, he did. And then, to have all of his best mates at school dead, except the one who had betrayed them . . . well, Remus deserved much more than Harry's vicious anger. Much more than a stupid, tantrum-having almost-godson.
'Harry,' Remus said softly. 'I—'
'Sorry, Remus,' Harry burst in, bringing his head up at last. Remus' eyes were soft brown and warm and not at all angry, and Harry swallowed hard. 'I'm really sorry. Please, I didn't mean those things. I was just angry, and I lose my temper a lot, but I shouldn't've . . .'
'Shhh, cub.' He reached out to touch Harry, but dropped his hand instead when Harry leaned away from him. 'It's all right. I'm not angry with you. I understand, all right? You were right to be furious with us. With me. I let you down. I hope you can forgive me.'
Harry bit his lip and nodded. 'Yeah, okay.'
Remus gave him a small smile. 'Thank you.'
With a little shrug, Harry looked away, not really wanting to prolong this anymore.
'We'll have more time to talk later, all right, Harry?'
'Okay, Remus. But I'm not . . . I'm not . . .'
'I won't ask you to speak of anything you don't want to, all right?' He gave a soft laugh. 'Professor Snape was quite clear on that issue. But I wouldn't push anyway. I'm sorry I did before, Harry. You know I'm just worried about you, right?'
'Yeah.' Harry sighed and his gaze flicked to Remus' face, which was open and kind, like always. 'But I'm doing better, like I said.'
'I believe you.' He smiled again, a little wider. 'But you're here for a meeting, and I'm taking your time up with the Headmaster. I'll see you later.'
'See you,' Harry said, watching as Remus left, and the door closed, leaving him and Dumbledore alone.
