"But if that's the case, Professor McGonagall might be very unhappy," Harry laughed.
"Not necessarily. Although Professor McGonagall seems to dislike your father, he was actually her favorite student," Professor Lupin said with a smile.
Harry thought to himself, luckily, my dad wasn't Dumbledore's favorite student; otherwise, he might have fallen victim to Gellert.
"However, Harry," Professor Lupin hesitated as if he was pondering something.
He could tell Harry had doubts about his father's image. As James's friend, Lupin felt it was necessary to clarify things for the child on behalf of his old friend.
Although James could be quite the jerk at times, he wasn't completely useless — at least, his positives stood out as much as his negatives, if not more.
Most importantly, James changed; he not only repented but died as a hero fighting against Voldemort.
Seeing Lupin's hesitation, Harry asked concernedly, "What's wrong, Professor Lupin?"
"Nothing," Professor Lupin sighed, "I just want to tell you that most people aren't black or white; you can't simply categorize them as good or bad."
"I know that, thank you, Professor," Harry nodded.
"I know you have some misunderstandings about your father," Lupin said softly, "But you need to know, he changed, and he sacrificed his life resisting Voldemort."
Without waiting for Harry to respond, Lupin continued, "Of course, I hope you can see for yourself."
He stood up, walked to the Meditation Basin, pulled a strand of silver thread from his temple, and placed it into the black basin.
"This is part of your father's memory," Professor Lupin sighed, "Of course, before that, I also... well, there's something I need to tell you."
"Go ahead, Professor," Harry nodded.
Lupin furrowed his brow and paced back and forth.
Should he tell Harry? He wondered.
But the idea of clearing his old friend's name prevailed. So what if his identity got exposed?
Harry saw Lupin's expression change from hesitation to conflict, to agitation, and finally to calm.
He knew that Professor Lupin had probably made a big decision.
"There's nothing to hide, Harry," Lupin sighed, "As you see, I disappear for a few days every month and have others cover my classes..."
Harry had somewhat guessed it, but seeing Lupin's serious yet anxious expression, he decided to joke.
"So you're actually a woman?" He feigned disbelief.
Harry's answer clearly took Lupin aback.
He laughed, relieved, a couple of times.
"Alright, Harry." Professor Lupin tapped Harry lightly, "If this were in class, I'd deduct points from Gryffindor for your lack of sharpness."
"But this isn't class, is it?" Harry responded with a smile.
Lupin nodded, "Yes, let me say it — as you see, I'm actually a werewolf."
"Oh." Harry nodded calmly, "So, you're a werewolf. That's nothing."
"Aren't you concerned... a werewolf..." Lupin asked hesitantly, his eyes seeming to glimmer.
"More importantly, you're my father's friend, one of his best friends," Harry shrugged, "Besides, it's just a little furry issue, isn't it—"
From afar, the sun emerged from behind the clouds, and sunlight poured through the window onto Harry's face.
The boy seemed unaccustomed to the sudden direct sunlight and raised his hand to shield his eyes from the bright light.
At this moment, through that ray of sunshine, Lupin seemingly saw the first ray that shone into his heart back in the day.
"Harry..."
Lupin smiled.
"What's up, Professor?" Harry asked, shielding his forehead with one hand.
"Nothing," Lupin smiled and said to Harry, "Thank you for your trust, Harry."
"It's nothing, Professor," Harry grinned broadly, "You're not just my father's friend but also our best Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Lupin patted Harry's shoulder vigorously, and after a while, he said, "Go and have a look, see my memories about James."
"Okay, Professor."
Harry walked to the Meditation Basin, took a deep breath, and submerged his head into the basin.
After a dizzying sensation, Harry found himself in Gryffindor's dormitory.
The dormitory was where he and Ron lived, only the era and the occupants were different. Harry saw his father lying on the bed, legs crossed, looking quite relaxed.
James seemed young, maybe a second-year student, not much different from Harry now.
You could say James and Harry were almost cut from the same cloth, except for the different eye color and the lightning-shaped scar; everything else was practically identical — the messy hair, the glasses, and the looks.
"James, hey, brother?"
A tender and crisp voice rang out as a black-haired boy walked in from outside.
The boy looked very elegant and handsome; although his face still showed traces of youth, it was evident that he would definitely be a handsome man in the future.
It was second-year Sirius Black.
It seemed that at this time, they hadn't formed the Plunderer group, nor had they gained their later nicknames.
"Sirius?" James seemed too lazy to lift his head and simply asked lazily.
"Hey, buddy, no need to be so downcast," Sirius sat beside James, laughingly patting his chest, "Just because Evans rejected your invitation to hang out, why be so despondent — trust me, buddy, I've found something unusual."
"Unusual?"
James wasn't intrigued by Sirius's exaggerated tone; he just flipped over like a dead fish, back facing Sirius, and said, "Oh, there's nothing I'm interested in, of course — if you could help me deal with that Slytherin Snot Spirit, it would be best."
"No, this unusual thing concerns our good friend!" Sirius said mysteriously, "Lupin — it's about our roommate, don't you want to hear his little secret?"
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