Pains and Contradictions

Author's Notes: I'd like to thank Laurenke1 for a plot wash of this chapter and Torina Archelda for what can only be called a grammar scrubbing as well a good plot check. Also, one lovely reviewer addressed the question of Remus and his supersonic hearing ability (or lack thereof) in the last chapter. Although this story is AU, I'm trying to keep it canon-compliant as much as possible (except for the slash, of course). There are many wonderful stories where Remus has a heightened sense of smell, hearing, etc., but I'm going with canon where Remus is a normal man who undergoes a painful transformation for two days a month. I understand the jump of logic that authors take with Remus, I just choose not to do so in my own fic. :) That being said, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please drop me a line and let me know what you thought of it.

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"This is by far the most idiotic idea I've ever had the misfortune to hear and I loathe that I am to witness its coming to pass."

The first thing Harry was aware of the next morning was Snape's familiar irritable drawl coming from the bed next to his. His voice was still softer and more hoarse than usual, but there was no mistaking that vitriol.

"Now, Severus, I think it makes perfect sense. I'm not much of a target for the Death Eaters. I don't think it's widely known that Harry and I are close; it should be perfectly fine." The calm voice of reason coming from Remus made Harry smile a bit. He never did seem to react to Snape's sarcasm.

"I'm curious to see whose hair the headmaster will pull out of his hat for you, Lupin. If Potter's donning your flesh, then who will have the misfortune of having you walking around in their skin?"

"Well, he said he'd be here in a few minutes. I'm sure we'll find out soon enough."

Harry opened his eyes and adjusted his body in the bed before sitting up and stretching. It might have been a small reprieve, but it had been good to wake up to the sound of people talking. For once he hadn't woken up with the memory of nightmares crowding his waking thoughts.

The possibility that the peace he felt was caused by these two men specifically was not something Harry overlooked. He had often woken to the sounds of his dorm mates messing with each other, no matter how early. It had never given him the calm feeling he was experiencing now. He knew that feeling had to center around Remus and Snape.

"Good morning, Harry," Remus said, his voice somehow bright and solemn at the same time. Harry was forced to recall the event was going to happen this morning. In a few hours, he'd join the entire Weasley clan in putting Ron in the cold, dark earth. Any smile that may have been threatening his features after listening to Snape and Remus bicker died instantly. He nodded his head towards the man and said, "Good morning, Remus."

He hesitantly turned toward Snape in the bed. "Good morning, Professor."

"Potter." Snape wasn't looking at him.

"The headmaster will be here in a moment, Harry and he'll let us know the details of what's going to happen today. There's breakfast." Remus gestured to a plate of fruit and toast. Harry was glad the choices were light; he really didn't think he could stomach anything heavy just now.

He was nibbling on some toast just as the flames in the hearth flashed green and the headmaster walked out of the fire. He was carrying in his hand a large black hanging bag that Harry recognized as something one carried nicer clothing in. He was glad to learn he would be using the polyjuice potion to attend the funeral as Remus. Though irrational, he knew it would be a comfort to be his older friend through what was sure to be a horrible day.

He hoped that the headmaster had something appropriate for him for him to wear. He knew that both he and Remus had come to Hogwarts with nothing but what they were wearing.

"Ah, good morning, Remus, Harry. Severus, how are you feeling today?"

"Splendid, Albus, as is so perfectly obvious. If you'd like to wait a moment, I was about to challenge Potter to a quidditch match. After all, what good comes from having the Gryffindor star seeker present during the summer if not a good game of catch-the-snitch?"

The headmaster smiled. "Well, now I know not to worry. If you're capable of that kind of retort, Severus, I imagine you're getting along after all. I would have been very worried if you'd just insisted you were fine." Dumbledore chuckled again then turned to Harry.

"Well, I believe it's time to finalize our plans for the day. Harry, as we discussed yesterday, you and Remus will be attending the funeral under the guise of polyjuice. After much thought, I've decided that it would be best if you would attend today's event as Remus."

Today's event. The man could gloss over an elephant in the room.

Dumbledore opened the large bag and removed some dark grey, slightly old fashioned robes from its depths. He handed them to Harry and said, "I believe these will be appropriate." Putting down the bag, he reached into his robes and removed a silver flask, similar to what Harry had seen Mad-Eye Moody drink from almost constantly during his fourth year.

"All we require now is your donation, Remus." He handed Remus the flask.

Remus smiled and plucked a hair from his own head, adding it to the mixture.

Dumbledore handed Harry the flask but said, "Not quite yet, my boy. There's still the matter of Remus."

"Yes, Albus, do tell who will have the misfortune of having the wolf parade around in their clothing."

Again, Dumbledore smiled, but this time it seemed much more devious. A chill ran through Harry and, unless he was mistaken, Snape as well.

"Well, with your penchant for protecting Harry, Severus, I had thought that obvious." And with that he removed long, black robes that, although of a finer quality than those he was used to seeing the Potions Master wear, obviously belonged to him.

There was a long pause and though Snape was still lying in bed, too weak to move, everyone seemed to expect the man to somehow rise to the occasion and throttle the headmaster.

"You can't possibly be serious, Albus?! There is no way I would consent to this ridiculous farce, this blatant blasphemy committed against my person." Snape was seething on the bed, his rage still intimidating even though he was unable to rise.

"Now, Severus, I did not make this decision lightly. Voldemort does not know how long it took me to reach you the other day. If I had been more quick to arrive, you would not be in so dire a situation. For that, I am sorry, my boy."

Something like chastisement passed over Snape's face for just a moment at seeing the headmaster's guilt and Dumbledore used the short reprieve to begin speaking again. "People, and most certainly Voldemort himself, will be expecting you to be there. I assume Harry and Remus have given you a summary of what we've learned since yesterday?"

Snape muttered something under his breath. Dumbledore smiled again and pressed on.

"If you're not there, Severus, it would be a clear sign that you are not well. We still do not know the reasons for the attack on the Hogwarts Express and I would hate to put Harry or yourself in any unnecessary danger. This really is for the best."

Snape growled low in his throat. "You're forgetting one tiny detail, Albus. If Lupin uses one of my hairs, he'll be in the same condition that I'm in. The potion won't adjust for nerve damage."

His smile only growing brighter, Dumbledore reached into the bag and pulled out a flat, brown brush and examined it in the light. Finding what he was looking for, he pulled on a long hair and tugged it from where it had become lodged and added it to a second flask, this one looking more like bronze.

Harry looked to Snape on the bed. The man's face was murderous, it was a wonder that Dumbledore wasn't dead yet. He belated realized that he had given Snape back his wand last night and there was likely nothing but his inability to aim keeping the headmaster from an early grave.

"No, Albus," Snape's voice was deadly. "I will not have that man parade around in my person. Not only is there too much personal history between us, it would apparent to all in Lupin's presence that he is not who he claims to be."

Dumbledore sighed and said, "I really do wish you would put the past behind you, my boy. I do not expect you to be a friend to Remus, but I do expect an end to hostilities." The Headmaster's face darkened as he resumed, "Do you recall the last time we had this conversation, Severus?"

Harry remembered, and lowered his eyes to the floor for a moment. He turned his bowed head to Remus, who looked a bit confused but was hiding it well. Harry recalled the conversation the headmaster had between Snape and Sirius all too well. But unlike Sirius, Remus seemed to be more than glad to put past animosities aside and bem if not friends, then at the very least be friendly towards Snape.

Snape had been quiet for too long and Harry looked up. What he saw could only be described as a staring match between a very angry Snape and an equally upset headmaster. Harry had seen Dumbledore angry before, but he'd never seen it sent directly towards Snape, even at the end of this fourth year. This duel of wills was disturbing to witness to say the least.

Snape closed his eyes briefly, seeming to lose whatever contest had passed between them. When he opened them he said, "It would never work, Albus. A realm of possibility does not exist where Lupin could pass off my sunny disposition."

Remus cleared his throat and spoke up for the first time. Harry thought briefly that the man really did know when to pick his battles and when to keep his head down. "Actually, Severus, I believe I can act the part. We've known each other for over twenty years, I believe I've observed you enough to pull off a decent imitation. Plus, the event itself will require my silence. Most likely, I won't have to speak much at all."

In the ten seconds that Snape was silent, the headmaster managed to hand over both the robes and the flask to Remus, who accepted them silently.

"Harry, why don't you change first," Remus said. Harry nodded and went to the washroom.

He undressed quickly, glad to be out of the infirmary white nightclothes. Although comfortable, they always reminded him of being injured. He went to shower quickly, unlike yesterday when he had let the hot water soak into his skin for far longer than he usually did. Exiting, he examined his face and picked up his wand to perform a shaving charm that he didn't really need but then realized that it would be a moot point until he took the polyjuice potion.

It would be very odd indeed to see the nude body of his friend and so he dressed in Remus' robes before he opened the flask.

The robes were worn and of an older style but were not as tattered as the man's usual attire. He must use these for special occasions, Harry thought.

He refrained from putting on the belt to tighten the small amount of slack in his pants until he knew how they would fit. It seemed Remus not only had a few inches of height on him but he also wasn't as thin.

Putting the robes on over his grey shirt that was at least one size too large, he uncapped the flask and took a sip.

Remus tasted like mint, it seemed. His mind went back to the awful taste of Goyle in his second year and he again found himself almost overwhelmed with the thought of what was going to happen today. Knowing he'd never make it through the funeral if he didn't take control of his emotions now, he quashed the thought and tried to ignore the strange feeling of his body growing a few inches and his physique changing completely.

Once the transformation was complete his first thought was, how in the bloody hell does Remus manage to walk around all day in this kind of pain. His back and the joints were on fire. This wasn't the kind of pain that came from an injury. No, this was the kind of pain that comes from decades of abuse of the body, the changes that happened to Remus on a monthly basis coming to the forefront of Harry's mind. Taking a few steps to the door of the washroom, Harry schooled his face to impassivity as well as he could. If Remus could stand this kind of pain and not make a fuss about it, he could as well.

As he opened the door to the washroom, he heard the headmaster saying, "Really, Severus, this is for the best for all parties involved... ah, Harry. Feeling alright?"

Harry nodded and spoke, hearing Remus' voice come from his mouth, "Yes, fine, Headmaster, thank you."

Remus looked over at Harry and gave him an appraising look. "Are you really, Harry? Would you like a pain potion?"

Harry's head snapped over to the other man but before he could say anything, Snape said, "You can have one if you wish it, Potter. A mild potion won't cause a reaction with the polyjuice and I'm sure you're not used the pain that a werewolf would have to endure."

Remus didn't seem surprised to hear Snape say this and was still looking at Harry questioningly.

"No, really, I'm fine. It's not that bad, really." He looked at Remus with a pleading look on his face.

"Alright then. I'll only be a moment."

With Remus using the facilities, the headmaster turned to him. "Harry, I'm sorry to have to say this, my boy, but you will remember that you'll have to act like Remus during the funeral. The members of the Order as well as the Weasleys have been informed as to your true appearance but there will be people there that I cannot vouch for. I would love for you to be able to express your grief and comfort Miss Granger, but that will have to wait until you're back at the Weasleys' home."

Harry nodded. "I thought of that. It won't be so hard to act like Remus, really. I'm a bit more curious to see how he acts like you, Professor."

Snape scowled. "Which is precisely why this idea is so foolhardy. Even on a somber occasion such as this, I fail to see how the man will refrain from smiling or going around offering children chocolates."

Dumbledore chuckled softly. "I think Remus will do just fine, Severus. Let's not discount his abilities until we see them for ourselves."

That being Remus' cue, the door opened and Professor Snape, dungeon beast and misanthrope stalked out of the washroom with his usual long gait and a scowl on his face. If Harry had not seen it, he would never have believed it.

Once again, there was silence in the infirmary, until Remus' features twisted a bit until finally he gave up holding in a very loud laugh.

Seeing Snape laugh and smile unreservedly brought a slight sense of wonder to Harry, though mostly he wished he had a camera. It wasn't before long that he and Dumbledore were laughing a bit as well.

Snape saw what was basically his own face screwed up in laughter and looked horrified. He deadpanned, "Merlin, this is surely a sign of the apocalypse."

Dumbledore said, "Now, Severus..."

"Quickly, Albus, get a copy of the New Testament and flip to the end. I'm sure this is described in agonizing detail."

Remus laughed even louder.

"There are probably even pictures to go along with it."

Dumbledore ceased his laughing and cleared his throat, holding up a hand for Harry and Remus to do the same.

"I'm sorry, Severus, I just couldn't help it. Had to get it out of my system," Remus said through his dying laughter.

"I don't believe I've heard Severus laugh like that since he was a boy, and only once even then. I believe it was in your first year, Severus, when you somehow managed to charm Sirius' hair pink," Dumbledore said, wiping a tear from his eye.

Remus didn't have a problem getting his laughter under control after that.

"Well, now with that taken care of, I believe you'd best be on your way, gentlemen. Professor McGonagall will be going with you. I believe she's waiting for you in the Great Hall."

"You're not coming, Professor?" Harry asked. He thought that as head of the Order, Dumbledore would be sure to say a few words about Ron. He might not have been a member but his entire family was now suffering in the name of their cause.

Sadness crossed the headmaster's features. "I'm afraid not, Harry. Professor McGonagall wished to attend as Mr. Weasley's head of house and one of us must stay at Hogwarts in times like these. Also, I wouldn't want to leave Severus alone for so long."

Snape scoffed at that, the very idea of him not being able to defend himself insulting.

The headmaster turned to walk them to the door but before they stepped over the threshold, he put something in Harry's hand. "I thought these might come in handy." His blue eyes had never looked more weary as he looked directly at Harry. "I truly am sorry for your loss, Harry. I wish I could be there with you today."

Harry looked down and saw a pair of dark sunglasses in his hand. "Thank you, Headmaster."

Dumbledore nodded. "Now Harry, don't forget to refer to Professors McGonagall, Snape and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley by their given names. Remus, I have every confidence that you will do well. You must both try to act the part to the best of your abilities."

This last was directed at Remus. He really would have the harder time, Harry thought. He knew the older man would want to comfort him and be unable to.

Harry walked out the door and into the hallway, and looked back to see Dumbledore sitting by Snape's bed. The headmaster bent over and began speaking to Snape in a low tone.

Dumbledore's gaze met his and with a wave of his hand, the headmaster closed the door.

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Remus, McGonagall and Harry walked out beyond the gates of Hogwarts and past the wards to apparate.

"Potter, you might want to take a sip of that potion right before we enter the graveyard. The funeral isn't likely to last longer than an hour and it won't hurt to let the doses overlap," McGonagall said in her usual brisk tone. Though she was dressed in black and seemed more somber than usual, she was acting as a member of the Order, trying protect Harry in any way she could.

Harry nodded.

Remus whispered out of the side of his mouth, in Snape's usual melodic tones, "I have to tell you, Harry, it is a relief to escape the usual pain for a little while. I had no idea Severus was in such good shape. I haven't felt this good... ever. I'm sorry if you're suffering. I managed to collect this before we left in case you changed your mind."

Remus slipped something into Harry's hand. He guessed that it was the mild pain potion that they'd been discussing. Harry shook his head and said again, "No, thank you, Remus. Really, I'm fine. Thanks though." He gave a soft smile that must have looked very familiar to the person who was seeing it.

As they reached the gates, McGonagall again addressed Harry. "If something were to happen, Potter, you would of course be encouraged to use magic to defend yourself. However, if you do not need to then do not so much as take out your wand. You may be in Mr. Lupin's body but I doubt the Ministry would know the difference."

Harry nodded as Remus took his hand. "I know where we're going, Harry. Remember, from here on out, you're me."

The dizziness that came from apparition was the next thing Harry was aware of.

Their arrival in Ottery St. Catchpole was anticlimactic to say the least. The fair weather and landscape seemed to be mocking him with their cheerfulness. The sky was blue and sunny and the grass was plentiful and green beside the deserted road on which they were standing.

"This way, Minerva," Remus said. He said this in a droll, dry tone that had not been present earlier. Harry again thought that Snape really did underestimate Remus.

Harry slipped on the sunglasses and took a drink from his flask as they passed through the iron gates of the Weasley family plot. It was across the street from an old church and was at least as large as the quidditch pitch.

He walked past headstones that looked to be a hundred years old. He paused for a moment when he passed the marker that read 'Bilius Weasley' and adjusted his glasses.

"Don't dawdle, Lupin," came the harsh voice of Snape next to him.

Under a grove of sycamore trees, he found fifty people, half of them with red hair, all crowded around a brown wooden box, next to a large hole in the earth.

Harry's throat closed up immediately and he almost stumbled on his next step. His breath became panted and he heard Snape whisper, "Not here, Harry. I'm right next to you, you can get through this. Just keep taking another step until you're there and I promise I'll be there for you afterward."

He knew the deep tones in his ear was actually Remus but even hearing his words of encouragement in Snape's voice didn't do much to stop the rush of grief at seeing Ron's coffin. He did as he Remus asked regardless, and took that next step and then another until he was standing among the group of mourners.

He could see Ron's immediate family dressed in black, along with Hermione who was standing in between Fred and George. Their red hair was almost obscenely cheerful at such an event. A steady stream of tears was pouring down Hermione's face. She looked very beautiful in that moment, Harry thought morbidly. He wondered briefly if mourning did that to women.

He looked around and noticed some of their school mates. Neville, Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, Lee Jordan, Dean, Seamus, the Patil twins, and the entire Gryffindor quidditch team were in attendance. He heard muffled sobs and turned to see Hagrid stand in the back of the crowd with a large handkerchief in his hand.

On the opposite side were members of the Order: Moody, Tonks, Kingsley, and a few others he was less familiar with. They were all dressed in somber tones; Tonk's hair was a dull brown.

Harry was hesitant to look anywhere near the casket but he did so, with great trepidation. He couldn't really make anything out from this distance, he realized, and was almost glad for it.

They seemed to have arrived just in time because not a minute later, a man in black robes that Harry had never seen before took position at the head of Ron's casket and started speaking.

"We are gathered today to remember a very courageous young man who was taken from us all too soon." The man looked around the crowd with a straight face, and addressed them all

"Ronald Bilius Weasley was a brave, headstrong young man, always eager to help a friend and generous in all things. I've known the Weasley family for many years and had the honor of meeting young Ronald several times. I was always astounded at his good humor; his ability to laugh, even at himself. If Ronald was present, it was most certain that there were good times to be had."

Mrs. Weasley sobbed at that and wept into her handkerchief; Mr. Weasley, who already had his arm around her, held onto her tighter.

"He was also one of the bravest young men I've ever had the pleasure to meet. I can recall one Sunday afternoon when his two older brothers, Fred and George, dared him to eat some concoction that they had created in the makeshift potions lab in their room. This must have been right after the twin's first year at Hogwarts, so to say Ronald was a brave boy is quite the understatement."

The crowd chuckled through their tears. The twins smiled and put their heads down.

"The purple hair Ron sprouted was the talk of the family for years afterward. Needless to say, I don't believe Ron ever tried one of their potions again."

The younger Gryffindors in the crowd all smiled at this, a few of the girls with tears running down their faces. It was all Harry could do not to weep openly. He was glad to have something to hide the tears that were forming in his eyes.

"Ronald was a brave young man, and I do not say this lightly. Most of us here are all aware of his adventures with his school mates and his actions in the war against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I doubt there are any here who has not heard of Ron's bravery at the battle at the Department of Mysteries. Though not even a fully trained wizard, Ron rushed headfirst into battle with his friends at his side, unwilling to leave them to face danger alone."

Harry turned at the sound of a loud sob, Hermione put her face into Fred's shoulder and she wept openly. He wished desperately that he could be next to her. He looked away and his eyes fell on Neville, who seemed lost in thought.

"Make no mistake! Cowards die many times before their deaths. Ronald Weasley was one of the bravest men I've ever had the great fortune to meet. The only proper words to give for this fallen hero are these: 'The bravest are surely those who have the clearest vision of what is before them, glory and danger alike, and yet notwithstanding, go out to meet it.' Ronald Weasley was a great wizard, who was thrust into situations that any adult wizard would have run from. But he did not. When put in a situation which would find most of us cowering under our beds in shame, he rushed in to help his friends. Let us remember Ron, and how he lived and died bravely."

"A few of Ronald's friends and family have asked to come forward to say a few words. Let us hear them and remember our fallen friend."

He stepped back from the casket and joined the crowd. Silence was pervasive as a few people shifted to allow Seamus Finnegan through the crowd and up next to where the black-robed man had been speaking.

"I'm not very good with words but I wanted to say something about Ron. He was my friend and I'll miss him. He always knew the right thing to do and he called me on it when I had done something wrong. I never told him so but I always respected him for that." The young Irishman's voice caught and he paused to clear his throat.

He turned away from the crowd and addressed the open casket. "I don't really have much else to say 'cept this: May you have food and raiment, a soft pillow for your head, may you be forty years in heaven before the devil knows you're dead." With that, he quickly walked down to stand next to the other Gryffindors he had been commiserating with earlier.

There was a pause in the proceedings as the twins seemed to communicate silently between themselves. Fred was still being used as an anchor for Hermione so George walked up to address the crowd.

Though visibly upset, George's voice was strong and steady. "My little brother wasn't perfect. He was headstrong, yeah, but he was also hotheaded. But once he knew he'd made a mistake, he did everything he could to fix it." George said this last looking directly at Harry.

"He was my brother and I'll miss him, but a part of me is glad that he went down fighting for what he believed in. He died a hero and our family will always remember that." With that, George moved back to stand next to Fred and Hermione.

There was silence for a few minutes and for a moment Harry thought the funeral had ended, but then Mr. Weasley turned to Mrs. Weasley and said something in her ear. Bill took over comforting his mother and Mr. Weasley walked up to stand next to the casket.

He looked down at the open casket and was silent for a moment. Then, without looking up, he said, "All of us here know how Ron died, but we seem hesitant to talk about it." He paused, his face turning red and his voice strained. "I suppose we're all trying to be gracious, to honor the dead. But it does not honor the dead to refrain from talking about what they died for."

He looked up, anger clear on his face. "My son was killed in the war against Voldemort. He was murdered by Lucius Malfoy, a Death Eater who has escaped from Azkaban twice now. To gloss over that fact is to ignore what Ron died for." Mr. Weasley lowered his head again as his voice broke. When he looked at the crowd a second time, there were tears in his eyes.

"My family has always been on the right side, both in this war and the last. Ron was proud of his family and of our position. We must all be cautious, and aid in the effort against Voldemort in any way we can. That is how we will honor his memory..." Mr. Weasley broke off as his grief overcame him. He retook his place next to his wife, and held her tightly.

Before Harry could even process what Mr. Weasley had said, Hermione was being ushered by Fred to the front of the crowd. She paused before she passed by the casket, not looking directly at it. Fred led her to the front, she aimed her head up towards the sky, trying to avoid looking directly at Ron's body.

Her voice was so soft Harry could hardly make it out. Her breath was coming out in broken sobs. She pulled a bit of parchment from the pocket of her robes and took a breath.

Wiping a fresh tear from her eye, she started to speak. "Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, silence the pianos and with muffled drum bring out the coffin, let the mourners come."

She stopped to wipe her eyes with her hand and collected herself. When she spoke again, she seemed to have a better hold of her voice. As though she were forcing herself to make this tribute as well as she could, she persevered.

"Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead scribbling on the sky the message 'He is Dead.'" A sob came from her throat before she could help it and Fred rubbed her shoulder. "Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves, let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves."

"He was my North, my South, my East and West, my working week and my Sunday rest, my noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong."

Tears were pouring from Harry's eyes as he listened to Hermione sob out the words that captivated the crowd of mourners.

"The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods; for nothing now can ever come to any good."

The siren's song that had come from her mouth over, Hermione put her face in her tissue and let Fred steer her away. She paused besides the casket but still did not turn her head before she walked on.

There was not a dry eye in the entire group of people save one. Harry noted that Remus had managed to control himself through that beautiful display of grief and his eyes were completely dry, his face emotionless.

It was all Harry could do not to collapse on the floor. He did not hear as the man in black addressed the crowd again, dismissing the crowd. The only sign of the funeral ending was the mass of about thirty people leaving to allow the family and closest friends the privacy of observing the body for a moment before he would be buried.

After Harry had seen all the Weasleys go by the casket, he heard Snape's voice in his ear, "Do you wish to pay your respects, Lupin?" It was a moment before he realized that it was Remus asking him the question. He nodded and walked forward to view the body. Before, Ron's death had seemed unreal, some nightmare he had to wake from. He was very aware that the short distance he was walking was in an effort to say goodbye to his best friend. Conscious that he was being watched, he kept his face as straight as possible as he looked down on the motionless body of his oldest friend in the world, the person who'd shared in all his adventures.

For a moment, Harry pretended that it really was Snape next to him while he stood over his friend's body. He knew it was unfair to Remus, who was standing by his side so loyally, but he had to admit that the thought of the Potions Master's presence gave a sense of peace that he could not explain. He allowed that feeling of kinship that came when he thought of Snape to wash over him for a moment and that helped him to keep control of himself and not join Hermione in open weeping.

Seeing Ron look this way seemed horribly wrong. Ron's face had never been that still and peaceful, even in sleep. He was always tossing a bit and snoring, waking Harry up with nightmares about spiders. He had no desire to remember Ron like this and so he turned away from the casket and moved to the side with the other members of the Order who had stayed.

The man in the black robes muttered a spell that lifted Ron's coffin up into the air and settled it deep in the earth. With another flick of his wand, the dirt that had been put off to the side was lifted as one solid entity and laid to rest in the large hole in the ground, leaving Ron buried underneath it.

As Hermione and Mrs. Weasley wept loudly, it was all Harry could do not to join them.

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Walking up the path to the Burrow had never been a more heart breaking task for Harry. In the past, he had always come to this place with a feeling of anticipation. Not only was he able to be with his friend but he also was able to spend time with the only family that had ever really welcomed him. Molly and Arthur Weasley were wonderful parents to their children and Mrs. Weasley especially had never been afraid to shower Harry in motherly affection.

Which was why he was so apprehensive about entering the house now. Walking with the other members of the Order, with Remus at his side, did nothing to lessen the great nervousness he felt. He had no idea how he would be received at the Weasleys' home. Though Snape's confession had done a great deal to ease his conscience in dealing with Ron's death, there was no way of knowing how his relationship with his family would change.

"It'll be alright, Harry," Remus said quietly to him, his voice soft so no one else could hear.

Harry was reduced to simply nodding.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had assured them earlier that only the immediate Weasley family and a few members of the Order would be invited to lunch at the house, so there was less need to maintain the facade of his polyjuice identity. Harry couldn't really have cared less at that point. It was all he could do to put one foot in front of the other and not break down completely. He was going to Ron's house for lunch but Ron wouldn't be there. He was currently residing in that little patch of earth underneath the grove of sycamore trees.

The door to the Burrow opened as Kingsley stepped up to knock. Mr. Weasley stood there, still in his black funeral clothes and gave them a very forced smile.

"Come in, everyone. Thank you all for coming." He stood aside to allow the Order members inside. Harry was the last to enter; Remus waited by the door until he'd passed and then allowed the door to shut behind them.

"You're among friends here, gentlemen, so no need to keep up appearances. Remus, I'm glad you could be here and thank you so much for bringing Harry. I know Ron would have wanted him here among family." Mr. Weasley said this kindly to Remus, shaking the long-fingered hand that was offered to him.

"Thank you, Arthur. I'm glad I could come. Ron was a very brave young man. I'm glad that I knew him."

Arthur could only nod at that. He then turned to Harry and his entire expression seemed to change. If Harry had been pressed to describe it, he would have called it awkward restraint of some other emotion.

"Harry..." Mr. Weasley didn't seem to know what to say. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He patted Harry on the shoulder a few times and walked away.

The rest of the family and the Order seemed to already be in the dining room, so Remus made quick excuses for the two of them. "We'll just be a moment, Arthur. There's something I need to discuss with Harry. May we use your den for a moment?"

Mr. Weasley nodded from a distance and turned to walk into the kitchen. Remus grabbed Harry by the sleeve of his robes and all but dragged him into the room across the hall and closed the door.

What happened after that was a sight to see. As soon as Remus closed the door to the den, he put Snape's face on his long fingered, potion-stained hands and gasped out a sob. Harry was shocked not only to witness Snape crying but also at the realization that it was Remus who was so overcome. As he watched the man weep, he forgot his own grief for a moment.

Remus seemed to get control of himself quickly and shuddered a long breath. "I'm sorry, Harry. I've been to many funerals in my time but..." The older man drifted off. He wiped his face with his hands and kept his eyes on the floor.

"I don't suppose you know this, but I wasn't able to attend either Lily or James' funeral." Snape's voice was full of emotion as he carried on. "It all happened so quickly. I was on a mission for the Order when it happened and word didn't reach me until a day later. By then Sirius was on his way to Azkaban and Peter was dead and I just didn't make it in time."

Remus turned to Harry, Snape's black eyes seemed filled with sadness. The fact that this was definitely Remus in front of him and not Snape did not make it any less disturbing.

"I'm very sorry, Harry. I actually pulled you in here to give you a moment's peace before walking into the dining room. Seeing you at your best friend's funeral just brought back some very painful memories. I didn't intend to make such a spectacle."

Harry had nothing to say to that, but he didn't want his friend thinking that he couldn't be honest with him, so he said, "It's alright, Remus. And no, I didn't know that you didn't get to go to their funerals. That must have been horrible for you."

Remus' soft smile looked so very strange on Snape's face. "I've attended many funerals in my life, Harry, but none for the people who meant the most to me." He paused here and seemed to remember where they were and what had just happened. "Again, I'm sorry, Harry. How are you holding up?"

Harry had been ready to break into a million pieces just moments ago, but seeing his friend do so in the Potions Master's body had shocked the grief right out of him. At the moment, he could honestly say he was more concerned with Remus' mourning than his own.

"Holding up well enough. Are you sure you're alright?"

Remus nodded, sending Snape's black hair swishing a bit, which is no doubt why the professor never used the gesture.

"Now, Harry, I don't want you to be bothered by Arthur's reaction. You know the Weasleys love you. That isn't going to change just because Ron is no longer with us."

And in an instant, the sadness Harry had felt prior to the shock of seeing his older friend cry was back again. The idea of walking into that room and seeing the faces of Ron's family was terrifying. He would much rather face down Voldemort without his wand than walk into that room right now. The emotion must have shown on his face, because Remus walked the few steps separating them and with some hesitation, wrapped Harry in his arms.

At the moment, Remus smelled like potions fumes and his hair felt greasy on his cheeks. But Harry did not hesitate to wrap his own arms around the slightly taller man, allowing some of the emotions of the day to seep out of him.

It was odd, to say the least, to feel the thin arms of the Severus Snape surrounding him, but not unwelcome. He had thought that the embrace would feel awkward, since no doubt Snape's body would be unused to offering comfort. But Snape's robes were softer than they appeared and he could feel those very elegant, stained hands on his back, unmoving but comforting all the same.

Harry did not cry but his body did shudder a bit. Though he was comfortable with his friend, he knew it was still not the time for mourning. For just a moment he wondered if the safe feeling that was on the border of his senses came from being close to Remus or to Snape. Though he was grateful to Remus for the comfort he was offering, Harry felt as though it was Snape he was embracing more than his friend; that the small peace he was experiencing was due to the Potions Master's presence and not Remus'. Harry returned the hug for all he was worth, feeling immense guilt at the sudden realization that he was clasping his arms and taking comfort from two men, both of whom took their suffering in silence.

With the thought that there were men who had indeed suffered more than him, he released Remus and allowed himself to be steered toward the door.

*********************

Harry walked the few steps from the den to the dining room like he was marching to his death. He wondered what he looked like at that moment, because he was sure he had never seen Remus look as terrified as he felt. He knew he was taking smaller steps than normal, and slowly at that, but Remus didn't push him; the older man stayed just a step behind him the entire way.

They finally reached the dining area where voices participating in numerous conversations were conversing in a variety of tones. As he walked over the threshold, all conversations stopped, the participants' eyes falling on Harry.

He desperately wished he knew a spell to sink through the floor. To hell with the Ministry; he'd just make himself a little home out of the floorboards and live there forever.

The sound of a chair scraping the ground was heard, and before he knew what was happening, he found himself with an armful of bushy brown hair covering his face. Realizing who the hair belonged to, he hugged Hermione back just the same. Fred and George came over and patted him on the back, while Hermione seemed to have no trouble weeping in his arms. Harry looked up from the tangle of hair he was currently lost in and finally saw the faces of the other Weasley family members. Mr. Weasley, Bill and Charlie all gave him some form of a friendly nod, silently acknowledging his presence. Mrs. Weasley seemed to be crying again and Mr. Weasley held her hand. Ginny looked at him and gave him a small smile, her red eyes the only evidence of her crying. The only face that seemed angry was Percy's. He was giving him a look similar to the one that had been pasted on his face in his fifth year, when Percy had believed the Ministry's lies about the crazy, attention-loving Boy Who Lived.

He felt a slender hand on his shoulder and shuddered. "Perhaps we should take this out into the hall, Harry. Boys, why don't you give the two of them a little privacy."

"Yeah, Remus; just a quick word, Harry," George said as he ushered the four of them out into the hall.

Fred was pacing the carpet of the hallway while George ran a hand through his hair. Hermione was still sobbing, though quietly, on Harry's shoulder.

George raised his head to speak, "Look, I just want to say this one thing and then we'll never talk about it again, alright?"

Harry nodded.

"None of us blame you. It wasn't your fault, it wasn't Hermione's fault or even that greasy bastard Snape's. We don't want you blaming yourself for this, and don't try to argue with us cause we know you are."

Harry was speechless. He hated that his only form of communication seemed to be in head nodding-form, but it was the only way he could relate that he understood and accepted the twins' concern. He cleared his throat and said, "Thanks." It was a pithy thing to relate to such a great defense of his person, but it was all he could say at that point.

It seemed to be enough for Fred and George. They both embraced him, and Hermione by extension, and went back into the dining room.

For a few moments, the two friends just stood in the hallway holding each other. Harry had thought that he'd have a million things to say to Hermione in this moment. Now that he was here, he had no idea how to comfort his friend. He had no idea what she was going through. He had loved Ron like a brother, but Hermione had loved him in a way Harry had never experienced.

Thinking that perhaps this wasn't the best place for this, he led Hermione silently back to the den he and Remus had left just moments ago. He sat her down on an old couch and pulled her hair back from around her face.

She really was beautiful in mourning. There seemed to be a new kind of grace around her; some kind of maturity, no doubt. Harry wondered how he had seemed to Remus and Snape in the last few days and whether he looked as different in his sadness as Hermione did.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but only a sob came out. Harry just nodded, his graying hair falling slightly into his eyes. Hermione pushed it back with a finger, and caught at it just as it started to turn black and shorten.

"Damn, I forgot to take another sip of the potion." He reached into his robes to pull out the silver flask but Hermione stopped him

"Please don't. At least for just a minute, Harry. I've missed you so much in the past few days..." She began her crying anew after that and though Harry thought it was a horrible idea, he put his hands back on hers and left the potion in his robes.

The change was immediate. The clothes he was wearing were again a size too big. His arms were too short for the sleeves of his shirt and he looked like a child playing dress-up in his teacher's robes. He felt ridiculous but it was worth it for the sad smile Hermione was gracing him with.

He hugged her again, this time with his own arms. She returned the hug with more force than the last.

When she pulled away this time, there were bright tears in her brown eyes. She looked straight into Harry's and without hesitation kissed him full on the lips.

Harry immediately pulled back, shocked, not considering how his reaction might upset his friend.

"Oh, God! I'm sorry, Harry, I don't know what I was thinking!"

Hermione turned away and started crying again. Harry had no idea what had just happened but he knew the thought of kissing Hermione in Ron's house, not an hour after they laid his body in the cold earth, made him sick. He got up from the couch they were sitting on and paced the floor, his robes dragging a bit on the ground.

"I'm so sorry. It's just that you were looking at me and I felt so close to you and I'm so confused right now, I don't know what to think and I just miss Ron so much!" All of this left her mouth in a mad rush. Her face was red and her breath came in loud sobs.

Harry stopped his pacing and forced himself to calm down. This wasn't about him at all, he realized. Right now was for Hermione, who was suffering far more than he was. He sat down next to her again and pulled her close to him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, as she sobbed into his shoulder again.

"Shh, it's alright. Don't even think about it, it never happened." Harry wished it had never happened. Kissing Hermione had felt very much like kissing his sister. He imagined it'd be much like kissing Ginny.

Hermione raised her head a bit. "I never got to tell him that I loved him, Harry. He never knew how I felt about him. I always thought there'd be time enough for that. I wanted to concentrate on school, our OWLS and then our NEWTS. I just thought there'd be time after that to settle down. But I'd known for a long time who I wanted to be with. I just can't imagine my life now without him. It's like a whole piece of me is missing."

Harry held back his own tears at Hermione's words. Trying to keep his voice as level as possible, he said, "Trust me, Hermione. Ron knew. And he felt the exact same way. It was written all over your faces every time you stepped into the same room."

Hermione smiled, which helped Harry to relax just a bit.

"He died knowing he was loved," Harry said, still holding back tears. Wanting only to comfort his friend, he told her, "Whatever happens next, we'll face it together, just like we always have. You're my best friend, Hermione."

"Oh, Harry." Something Harry had said had her weeping again and Harry was silent for the time being, allowing himself to be used as a pillow.

Much later, when Harry was sure lunch had ended, they got up as one and went to the door that lead to the hall. Harry took out the silver flask and drank his potion, feeling the familiar effects on his body and the sensation of his clothes fitting again.

Hermione smiled. "It really was strange to see Snape's face do something other than scowl at us." She paused at the door before exiting into the hall. "Did you talk about anything while you were on the Express together?"

Harry flinched. Knowing there was no way he could answer that question, he nodded and said, "Yeah."

********************

A/N: Seamus is quoting an old Irish prayer, the man in black is quoting Thucydides and Hermione recites W.H. Auden's "Funeral Blues" which is one of the most beautiful poems I'd ever read and had to include it here. The funeral scene and scene between Harry and Remus afterwards were very difficult for me to write; please let me know what you thought of them.

Also, there's a scene in the infirmary that describes the ending of an American movie classic. It's always moved me and so I included it. If anyone figured it out, I'll be very happy.