FicWad

It had started out innocently enough. Just watching, up close or from afar. During class, during meals, while passing each other in the halls. At first it was simply a mutual sense of relief. Professor Lupin was back, after all, and that made Harry's sixth year that much more bearable. He would need as many allies, as many friends, as he could get. He needed someone to turn to for advice, without having to deal with Dumbledore's cryptic remarks. He needed someone that understood what he had lost.

It was all so very innocent.

Lupin always wore a worn grey jumper, frayed on the edges and falling apart. And when they talked, Harry's hand would flex, fingers wanting to reach out and pull off those wayward threads until none remained.

So one day, he did.

He had reached out and pulled slowly. Watched the thread pull loose and suddenly realized Lupin was watching him. His hand had jerked against his will, making skin brush against skin.

And then it had become not quite so innocent.

And maybe it was because they had both lost a part of themselves in one horrible night. Or because Harry looked so much like his father and Remus had known him so well, had been a part of /him/. Or maybe it had been something else completely.

Harry still blamed the jumper.



**

AN: Gift drabble for penm.