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Harry slowly placed his mug on the table. He tried to finish his tea for half an hour, but instead found himself increasingly lost in thought. Two days had passed since the trial. He had been acquitted. But for some reason, this didn't bring him much joy.
He wanted to go back to Hogwarts, he really did. But how would they treat him at school? After everything that had happened? Would anyone besides Ron and Hermione be able to communicate normally with him? Harry wasn't so stupid as to not know what the wizarding world thought of him. He found the Daily Prophet newspaper that Mrs. and Mrs. Weasley had tried to hide from him.
Liar, madman, murderer—he saw all these words in the articles next to his name. And while the first two descriptions weren't true (though Harry still doubted the second), the last was almost accurate. He was guilty of Cedric's death. He wasn't his killer, but he was guilty of what had happened to him.
Besides, even though Harry wanted to attend Hogwarts, part of him desperately wanted to stay at Grimmauld Place to be near Sirius and Remus.
Remembering his former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Harry picked up his mug of iced tea again. Taking a sip, he sighed heavily. He wasn't sure exactly when he'd fallen in love with this older man, but he realized it only before his fourth year.
All summer long, he'd pondered the werewolf and concluded that everyone has a first love: it comes, and then fades. You just have to wait a little, but unfortunately, Harry was wrong. The love didn't fade; it grew stronger. During his fourth year, he received rare letters from Mr. Lupin and treasured them. He reread them even more often than the letters from Sirius.
While Harry, resting after the First Task of the Tournament, was rereading Remus's letter for the hundredth time, Hermione, noticing it, subtly hinted at Harry's obsession with these letters. Harry, categorically denying this assumption, mentally noted that the girl was right and decided he needed to do something.
Then he decided that if he tried dating a girl, maybe this ridiculous crush would pass. That's how Cho entered his life. She was sweet, attractive, smart, but something was wrong. He still thought about Remus. And Cho had Cedric. In any case, it didn't work out.
Even after Voldemort's resurrection, the brunette couldn't stop thinking about Remus. But Lupin seemed to have forgotten about the boy. After the Triwizard Tournament final, he hadn't received a single letter from his former professor. Letters became a luxury for Harry that summer, as apparently no one he knew wanted to write to him, and letters from Ron and Hermione didn't ease his feelings of abandonment. Still, he hoped for word from Remus. But he never sent a single letter.
And, of course, Harry was glad to see the older man in the house on Privet Drive. If they had been alone, he wouldn't have been able to restrain himself and would have rushed to embrace the werewolf. And during their stay at Grimmauld Place, Harry kept glancing at the man.
After the hearing, Harry was glad he would be able to attend Hogwarts, but also sad that he would soon have to part with Lupin again. Incidentally, the evening after the trial, Lupin dropped by to congratulate Harry. When Remus patted him on the shoulder, saying something about how happy he was for the boy, Harry focused all his attention on the man's touch, trying to imprint it on his memory.
Loved into thoughts of Remus, Harry set down his mug of tea. Crossing his arms on the table, he rested his head on them. Closing his eyes, he imagined Lupin: blond hair, brown eyes, tall stature, scars... Yes, Harry liked the scars on the man's body most of all.
A crash interrupted his thoughts. Opening his eyes, Harry jerked his head up, trying to listen.
"Damn..." Harry heard a whisper from the hallway. Rising from the table, the fifteen-year-old took a few slow steps. He slowly walked out of the kitchen and, stopping at the threshold, glanced at the front door. He winced, noticing the very werewolf he had been thinking about less than a minute ago.
"Remus?" Harry struggled to speak. He tried to keep his voice even, and he was doing a pretty good job.
"Well, what else…" the man said with such irritation that Harry felt uneasy. Remus turned to the boy, and the werewolf's face immediately lit up. "Oh, Harry, is that you? Hello, hello, how are you?"
"Hello, Remus…" the brunette hesitated, looking the werewolf over. He looked rather ill: his face was haggard, there were dark circles under his eyes, and his smile was strained.
"Is something wrong, Harry? Why aren't you sleeping?" Remus picked up his suitcase from the floor. "It's about time…" the man's gaze fell on the wall clock. "Wow, it's already three in the morning, why aren't you in bed?"
"And why aren't you in bed?" Harry retorted, a slight smirk appearing on his face.
"Well, I'm an adult, you know? I can afford to stay up late." Lupin's smile became more familiar. But after a moment, his face took on a serious expression. "And you really should be sleeping, Harry."
"And you too." The boy thought his answer had sounded too harsh, but decided not to correct him.
"Harry, I'm serious, it's late. You need to rest," the man said firmly.
"I'm serious too," the teenager replied, still sharply. "I'm worried about you; I don't like the way you look. How long has it been since you slept and ate properly?"
There was silence. Harry frowned, and the werewolf avoided his gaze. Remus sighed in irritation, trying to calm himself. He ran a hand through his light brown hair and finally met the boy's gaze.
"I'm fine, Harry," Lupin said, shaking his head. "I'm fine, really."
"I don't see it that way," the boy drawled sarcastically, then abruptly fell silent, realizing his tone was beginning to resemble Professor Snape's. "Well... I'm just worried about you. You don't look well..."
"I see, I see," Remus snorted, looking at the younger boy. He seemed amused by the teenager's words. "Still, I should be the one worrying about you, not the other way around."
"Well, it seems you haven't been particularly worried about me this summer." Harry suddenly fell silent. He wasn't even sure why he'd said that.
"What are you talking about, Harry?" Lupin looked at the boy, puzzled. "Of course I care about you."
"Really?" Harry's face instantly became serious. "Well, then, you and I have different ideas about caring." "I thought you didn't care about me, since you haven't written a single letter all summer." Harry didn't want to seem like a resentful child, especially after he'd already told everyone he'd forgiven them. However, since the conversation had turned to it, why not express at least part of what he still felt?
"Harry, you know it was for your own good." Remus frowned, clearly unwilling to talk about it.
"Oh, yes, thank you very much. I'll always be grateful to you all for making me feel unwanted," the teenager said sarcastically, trying not to roll his eyes. Crossing his arms over his chest, Harry stepped closer to the man. "And if you want my opinion, I think I'm old enough to decide for myself what's best."
"Harry…" Lupin glanced guiltily at the teenager. "I know it was hard for you, but Dumbledore said…"
"Yes, yes. Dumbledore said..." The mention of the Headmaster angered Harry even more; he'd heard this excuse from his friends hundreds of times. He stepped closer to Remus. "I've heard that before! He said it, and you all listened! Dumbledore always says he wishes me the best, but he's always wrong!"
"Harry James Potter, watch your words!" The man's eyes flashed with anger. "Dumbledore, like everyone else, only cares about you. It may seem wrong to you now, but later you'll understand it was for your own safety."
The boy stared silently at the former professor. Harry wanted to tell Remus so much, but in that moment of anger, Lupin seemed even more attractive, and the teenager didn't even notice how he began to stare intently at the man's lips. The anger vanished, replaced by an overwhelming desire to kiss Remus.
The werewolf ignored the boy's behavior. Remus continued explaining something about protection to Harry, but he wasn't listening at all. Fighting the urge to kiss the werewolf, Harry bit his lip, trying to concentrate. It didn't help. He continued to stare at the man silently.
"Harry? Harry!" the man's worried voice finally reached the brunette. At that moment, Harry realized he had probably been silent for too long. "Are you okay, Harry? Is your scar hurting again?"
"Huh? No, I'm fine..." Harry looked down, now staring intently at the floor.
"Are you sure?" Remus placed his hands on his shoulders. "Are you sure everything's okay? I can call Molly..."
"No!" the boy protested too loudly, meeting the werewolf's gaze for a moment before lowering his head guiltily. "I'm fine! Really!"
"Harry..." Lupin frowned. His hand gently lifted Harry's chin, forcing the teenager to look up. "What happened?"
Harry looked away, trying to look anywhere but at Lupin.
"Harry..." Remus said heavily. "Look at me."
Harry felt uneasy at how pathetic this request sounded and turned his gaze to the man in front of him. Meeting those brown eyes, he held his breath. How long had he waited for Remus to look at him like that! As if he cared about Harry. As if he really cared about him. As if he needed Harry.
At that moment, the teenager cast all thoughts aside, finally allowing himself to do what he truly wanted. He walked up to Remus's face and pressed his lips to his. Harry had never kissed before, and since he knew nothing about it, the kiss was simply a quick brush of lips. There was a distinctive smacking sound, and Harry pulled away abruptly.
Harry looked at Lupin silently, waiting for his reaction. The teenager tried to feign calm, while a storm of emotions raged within him. "Harry... What..." Remus muttered, looking into the boy's wide-eyed surprise.
"I love you," the teenager said. Harry bit his lip, realizing what he'd said, but it was too late. Lupin stared at him silently, and Harry saw the horror in his eyes.
"What?" the older man asked.
Harry found it hard to accept. Now was the time to say it was a mistake, that he'd done something stupid without thinking. He could just write it down on the way out and leave, but Harry couldn't, no. If he left now, he'd never have the courage to confess his feelings to Lupin again.
"I love you," the teenager continued, clenching his fists.
Remus sighed heavily and silently buried his face in his hands. Harry looked down in shame, already beginning to regret his actions. He waited patiently for some kind of response from Lupin, hoping for the best. And then, after what seemed like an eternity, Harry heard the werewolf's joyless laughter break the silence.
"No," the man replied coldly, running his hand through his hair.
"What?" Harry looked at the werewolf in surprise. He didn't understand what exactly this "no" meant.
"Harry, you don't love me. No," Remus replied sharply. Noticing Harry's confused expression, he continued, "You're young, Harry. It's just hormones; you're confusing feelings with..."
"I think, Remus," the teenager interrupted. "I know my feelings better than you do."
"Harry..."
"No, I'm talking now!" Harry interrupted again. The teenager's indignation knew no bounds. What was this man even talking about? "You can tell me you don't love me, you can tell me you find me disgusting..."
"I would never have thought you were disgusting, Harry!" the werewolf suddenly exclaimed, frowning.
"But don't you dare tell me I don't understand my feelings for you!" Harry continued, completely ignoring Lupin's words. "I love you! I've loved you since our third year. Now tell me, do you feel the same way about me or not?"
"Harry, that's wrong..." Remus looked at the boy guiltily.
"That doesn't answer my question," the boy said angrily. He didn't understand why the werewolf was having such a hard time answering his question. "I want to know how you feel about me, Remus."
"I love... I love you," the man breathed, lowering his head. "There wasn't a moment I didn't think about you this summer, Harry."
Harry held his breath at the man's words. He pursed his lips, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach.
"So..." the teenager began, nervously fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater. "What does this mean for us?"
"Nothing," Lupin replied sharply, raising his head. "Nothing, Harry. This is wrong. You're a young, handsome man with your whole life ahead of you. You don't need someone like me."
"But..."
"Let's leave it at that," Remus said coldly. "Let's pretend this conversation never happened."
Harry frowned. He still had so much he wanted to say to this man. He wouldn't have said anything if Remus didn't have feelings for him. But what was the problem if they were both in love? He didn't understand.
Turning, he quickly headed for the stairs. Reaching them, he turned to the werewolf.
"You know, Remus, you should probably use a Memory Charm on me," the teenager said coldly, trying to maintain an impassive expression. "Because I'm not going to put on a cheap show and pretend nothing happened!" With that, Harry quickly climbed the stairs.
Standing to his feet, the boy quickly crossed the hallway. Reaching his room, Harry threw the door open and entered. He was so angry that he didn't even notice how hard he slammed the door. It slammed shut.
"Harry?" Ron's sleepy voice reached the brunette. The noise must have woken his friend. "What's wrong, mate?"
"Nothing," Harry muttered, climbing into bed. "Go to sleep, Ron." Harry tossed his glasses on the nightstand and crawled under the covers. He closed his eyes, trying to clear his head of all thoughts.