sam_storyteller (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-07 03:02 pm
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-07 03:02 pm
Entry tags:
Stealing Harry, 2 of 11
Remus had seen the outside of the Dursley house many times; in the days just after Voldemort's fall, most of the Order had, at some point or another, covertly come to gawp at it. When it became evident that Harry would have to stay there, and Sirius bought the house nearby to be close to the boy, Remus had spent hours standing at the window of Sirius' house, looking up the street. He imagined Sirius did the same, when he wasn't about.
He'd never seen inside the place, though. He wondered if, today, he might actually get to.
Sirius stood behind him on the front step of the house, arms crossed. Remus had to admit that if you didn't know how idiotic Sirius could be, you'd probably be afraid of him.
Well. Up to Remus Lupin to be the voice of reason, as usual.
He knocked on the door. There was a pounding of feet and then Harry opened it breathlessly. His eyes widened.
"WELL, WHO IS IT THEN?" drifted a voice from inside.
"We'd like to speak to your uncle, Harry," Remus said. Harry nodded and turned.
"UNCLE VERNON!" he called. There was the sound of someone getting to their feet, and Vernon Dursley's heavy footfalls. Harry scurried away fearfully as the thick-necked, red-faced man reached the doorway.
"You," he said, eyes narrowing. "Black," he added, speaking over Remus' shoulder to Sirius, who -- true to a promise coerced out of him earlier that day -- didn't say anything.
"Mr. Dursley, My name is Remus Lupin," Remus said. "I see you've met Sirius. May we come in?"
Dursley stood aside, and they stepped into the dim house. It was obsessively clean, but it smelled...well, wrong. Remus could hear Sirius sniff, behind him, and knew the other man was thinking the same thing.
"We'd like to have a word with you about Harry," Remus continued. "As I'm sure you're aware, Sirius is Harry's godfather, and while we understand -- "
"You? The freak with the motorbike?" Vernon said. Sirius let out a quiet growl. Remus, dumbfounded by the man's sheer audacity, gathered his wits.
"Surely you knew James and Lily had named Sirius in their will," he said, hurriedly. "We know that Harry needs protection and that's why he's been placed with blood family -- "
"HA! Protection from the likes of Black! And the rest of the -- the freak world his parents came from!"
"Mr. Dursley, please stop using that word," Remus said, trying to be patient.
"And you! I suppose you're one too," Vernon said, turning on Remus. "A wastrel like my wife's sister and her good for nothing -- "
"If you say that about James again, I will personally put your nose through the back of your head," Remus growled.
"I'd like to see you try it!" Vernon blustered. Remus gritted his teeth.
"Your son's bullying Harry. We want it stopped."
"Dudley's doing nothing of the kind."
"We saw it happen, Dursley."
"He's fed and clothed and has a roof over his head, which is more than you or that godfather of his ever did for him," Vernon said, face turning beet red. "Never saw a penny to help out with our expenses, either. The boy goes about breaking things, making the place untidy -- "
"He's eight years old!" Remus waited for Sirius to break in, but apparently he was exercising some modicum of self control. "Your son throws rocks at old women!"
"Lies and slander!" Vernon roared.
"Sirius, I think you can menace now," Remus said. There was no reply, and he glanced behind him.
Sirius stood in the doorway, one hand in Harry's, the other carrying a disturbingly cheery backpack. Harry's backpack. Harry was clutching a small plush frog in one hand.
"You keep him in a cupboard," Sirius said quietly. "With no lights except a torch he had to steal. You lock him in when you're tired of dealing with him. Your son has broken every toy the boy has ever managed to scrounge up. He torments him mercilessly. So, I suspect, do you."
Sirius picked up Harry, and handed his bag to Remus.
"You're lucky I don't kill you," he said fiercely. Vernon Dursley was too stunned to do more than gape. "You're lucky I don't call the Aurors -- "
" -- police -- " Remus coughed.
"And have you arrested and sent up for being an absolute -- "
"Sirius," Remus said sharply. "Let's go. Now."
Sirius growled at Petunia, who had entered when Vernon started shouting, and was standing between him and the door. She scuttled aside. Harry, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, shivered.
And then they were outside in the sunshine, moving quickly down the street, Sirius grave and furious, Remus silent. Harry was still clutching Sirius' neck, the frog squashed between his hand and Sirius' collarbone.
The door of Sirius' small house slammed open and he stormed inside, setting Harry down on the counter in the kitchen so that the boy's legs hung over the edge. Remus laid the backpack carefully on the table.
"Everything the boy owns fits in a backpack," Sirius muttered.
"His clothes, too?"
"I wouldn't touch those clothes," Sirius said sharply. "he won't need them. We'll buy him his own clothes."
"Dumbledore's going to kill us," Remus said slowly.
"I don't care."
Remus looked at Harry. "Really, they locked you in a cupboard?"
Harry, terrified, nodded slowly. He had both arms around the toy now, and was shaking.
"Nothing else to be done, then," Remus mused.
"You're damned right!" Sirius shouted. Remus saw Harry wince. "Did you see? You talked to that monstrous Muggle!"
"Sirius, you're scaring him."
"Well, I'm angry!"
"And he's eight! Shut it, or I'll shut it for you!" Remus snapped. Sirius, stunned by his words, stopped mid-diatribe. He glanced at Harry, who was staring at them.
"I...I'm eight and a half," Harry said quietly. There was a moment of absolute silence.
Sirius threw back his head and roared with sudden laughter. He moved to the counter, wiping tears from his eyes, and hugged Harry tightly. Remus sank into a chair, resting his head on his hands, exhausted.
"Well, what do you think of that, Harry?" Sirius said, when he finally got himself under control. "How'd you like to come live with your godfather Sirius?"
"Can I have books now?" Harry asked timidly. There was a distinctly amused noise from Remus' general direction.
"Absolutely," Sirius promised. "We could go to the bookshop right now -- "
Remus lifted his head. "I think we ought to," he agreed. "I don't think Harry ought to stay here. It's too close to the Dursleys. It's dangerous," he added significantly. Sirius nodded.
"Your flat?"
"It's a bit small," Remus sighed. "But I think it'll be safer."
***
Harry wouldn't let go of the frog, and wouldn't stop shaking, until he was installed in one of the enormous wing-chairs in Sandust Books.
"I think I'll put off that trip to India," Remus said, as Sirius located Diggers, his own personal copy, and gave it to Harry. The boy solemnly tucked his frog between his hip and the arm of the chair, drew his knees up to prop the book on, and began to read. "If we're going to get in hot water over it, both of us ought to be here."
"You'd think you were his godfather."
"James was my friend too," Remus said reproachfully.
Sirius crossed his arms, also watching Harry. "If you want to go, you should go, but I'd rather you stayed."
"Then I'll stay. Besides, you don't know where anything in my flat is," Remus said, lips quirking up slightly. "There's only the bed and the couch, I'm afraid."
"We'll put Harry on the couch, and he can share it with Padfoot," Sirius said.
"You shed."
"I'm getting my summer coat."
"You've been continually getting your summer coat for twelve years, then," Remus answered, aware that he was talking around the problem at hand. "So."
"So."
"Do you want to send the owl to Dumbledore, or should I?"
Sirius sighed. "I'll do it. Watch the lad."
"Doubt I'll be doing much else, for the next few years," Remus murmured, when Sirius was gone. He saw Harry's eyes dart up from the book, then back down. After a moment, he did it again.
"Harry," Remus said, slowly, "Are you scared still?"
"No," Harry said, clutching his frog. Remus crouched next to the chair.
"You did want to come with Sirius, didn't you?" he asked quietly. Harry nodded. "Can I see your frog?"
Harry offered it to him, and Remus turned the battered plush toy over in his hands. It was the cheap sort you got from carnival fairway games; Remus reckoned he'd found it somewhere and turned it into a sort of teddy bear. It was threadbare, leaking stuffing from one of its webbed feet, and unwashed; he considered it for a minute before saying his next words.
"Sirius tells me you think I'm a magician," he said.
"Aren't you?" Harry asked. "Your dog is magic."
"Harry, what sort of magic do you suppose I do?"
"Making dogs smart and making things disappear and turning things into other things and all," Harry said promptly. "And knowing things about people."
"Harry...there are two different worlds, you know. There's the world your uncle and cousin and aunt live in. And we call them Muggles," Remus said carefully. "And then there's another world that you and Sirius and I are a part of. And that's called the Wizarding World."
"Me too?" Harry asked.
"Yes, I should say so, Harry," Remus said. "You're magic. Like us." He took his wand out of his back pocket, and pointed it at the frog. "Want to see some magic, Harry?"
Harry nodded eagerly.
"Scourgify," Remus said, and the dull green plush brightened as a brief cascade of soap bubbles passed over the frog. "Reparo," he continued, and Harry's eyes grew wide as the rip in the webbed foot healed, the stuffing snaking back inside it. The threadbare patches seemed to grow new plush. Remus shook it, making sure there was nothing else to fix, and handed it back to Harry.
"Are you from Narnia?" Harry asked, awed.
"No, Harry. I'm from Yorkshire," Remus grinned. "Listen, you understand you can't tell anyone about this magic, all right? About any magic."
"I won't tell!" Harry squeaked.
"Cross your heart?"
"Cross my heart!"
"There's a lad," he said, as the door to the back office swung open and Sirius walked back in.
"I've sent it off," he said. "Hallo there, Harry, I see Moony fixed your frog."
Harry stroked the frog's head. "Are you magic too?"
"Yup," Sirius said, as Remus straightened. "Like you and your...your dad and mum," he finished, after only a slight hesitation.
"And Padfoot," Harry said. The two men exchanged a quick look.
"Harry..." Sirius said.
"Not right now, Sirius," Remus murmured. Sirius gave him a rebellious look, but subsided. "I think we ought to get Harry something to eat, and show him my flat. I want him fed and rested by the time Dumbledore hears."
"Got to get him some clothes, too," Sirius rumbled.
"Let's take care of that once he's settled. Come on, Harry, you can take the book..." Remus picked up his backpack for a second time, and stared as one of the shoulder straps snapped.
"I tell you what," he said quietly, to Sirius, "We'll get the boy settled, then we'll go back and massacre the Dursleys. Agreed?"
"I wanted to do it the first time round," Sirius said with a grin.
It wasn't a long walk to Remus' flat from the bookstore; they arrived about the same time a tall, red-headed man hurried up from the opposite direction.
"I floo'ed Arthur too," Sirius said sheepishly, when Remus glared. "I thought he'd know what to do."
"Hallo lads!" Arthur Weasley called, joining them as Remus unlocked the door. "Oh, blimey, are you in trouble!" he said cheerfully. "Kidnapping and spellbreaking -- "
"We were hoping you'd come down on our side," Sirius interrupted.
"And is this Harry? Tiny bit of a lad, aren't you?" Arthur said, crouching and clapping Harry on the shoulder. Harry, behind his frog, grinned. "Just about the age my Ron is, I'd wager. Eight, eight and a half?"
"And a half," Harry said shyly.
"Harry, this is Mr. Weasley, he's a friend of ours," Remus said as they trooped inside. Three grown men and an eight-and-a-half-year-old filled the small living room entirely, and Remus ducked into the kitchen. "Just be a mo, get us some tea -- do you like scones, Harry?"
"Yes, thank you," Harry said, as Sirius helped him up onto the battered, much-gnawed couch. Arthur dropped into a creaking chair, and Sirius leaned against the mantel.
"Now, I want the whole story, before the Aurors and the Ministry get hold of it," Arthur said, leaning forward. "You said something about abusing the lad, Sirius?"
"His cousin bullied him, continually," Sirius replied. "You should see the size of him."
"He eats all the breakfast I make," Harry scowled.
"You make breakfast?" Arthur asked.
"Aunt Petunia makes me."
"And he sleeps," Sirius said slowly, "In a cupboard. That they lock him up in when they think he needs to be punished."
Arthur raised his eyebrows.
"Dudley has two bedrooms," Harry whispered.
"What sorts of things do they lock you up for, Harry?"
"My hair," Harry said, ruffling it. "It sticks up too much. And once I...." he glanced at Sirius, who gave him an encouraging look. "Once I said I was talking to an animal. Only really it was talking to me," he said mournfully.
Arthur rested a chin in one hand.
"I think I could make a case for child endangerment if I worked with the Muggles on it, but I'd rather we not bring them into this. Will the Dursleys complain?"
"I'll kill them if they do," Sirius said calmly.
"Now, now," Arthur remonstrated. Remus entered, carrying a kettle and three cups, against the laws of physics, in one hand, and a plate of scones on the other.
"They're not terribly fresh -- I was leaving, I hadn't done shopping..." he said apologetically. Harry eyed the scones covetously, looking surprised when Remus gave an entire one of them to him. He ate neatly, spilling no crumbs and sipping his milky tea as silently as possible while the other men held a conference of looks and significant throat-clearings. Finally, Remus gathered the remains of the tea things and asked if Harry wouldn't like to help him wash up. Harry obediently hopped off of the couch and followed him into the kitchen, leaving his frog behind.
"Boy are you bollocksed," Arthur said frankly, when Harry had gone. "You do know the reason he was with the Dursleys was a protection spell?"
Sirius stared at him. "Of course I did. I didn't think you knew too."
"Which means now he's no longer protected."
"He's got me. He's got Remus. Aren't two better wizards in the world. We'll figure something out."
"There are a lot of old Death Eaters who'd like nothing better than to get their hands on him, you know that," Arthur said soberly.
"Nobody knows he's here. I'll sell my house and get a place somewhere -- maybe in Hogsmeade -- "
"You know you won't be allowed to have the boy around other wizards."
"I don't see why not."
"He's famous, Sirius. He'll never have a moment of peace."
Sirius rubbed a hand across his face. "Well, I've lived around Muggles this long, a couple more years won't matter. Then he'll be at Hogwarts. He'll be safe there."
"If he's shown magical ability," Arthur replied.
"He's James' son! How could he not?"
There was a crash from the other room.
"All right, Remus?" Sirius asked.
"All right," Remus called in reply. "Just a broken cup."
"Well, you know poor Neville Longbottom still hasn't shown any magical ability at all," Arthur said. "There's rumours going about that he might be a squib."
"Sirius! Arthur! Come and see this!" Remus' voice drifted up from the kitchen. The other two crowded into the doorway.
Harry was sitting on the counter, absorbed in a pile of white stoneware chips. Carefully, he plucked one out of the dustpan and stuck it to the jagged remains of what appeared to be a recently-dropped mug. The crack sealed itself over and Harry grinned proudly.
"I think that answers your question," Sirius said quietly.
***
Remus, declaring that Harry had been through more than any child ought to in one day, made Sirius talk him into taking a nap; the tall, dark-haired man left the boy curled in a nest of sheets and blankets in Remus' bed and came back out to the kitchen, where Arthur and Remus were in solemn conversation.
"So now we wait for Dumbledore's wrath?" he asked lightly. Remus swallowed compulsively, a sure sign that his nerves were on edge.
"Dumbledore's reply, at any rate," Arthur answered. "How are the wards on this place, Lupin?"
Remus shrugged. "Pretty good. I'll be putting some more on before nightfall. The ones on now are rather...specialised."
"Brilliant at Dark Arts, Remus is," Sirius put in. "Defence, I mean," he added hastily.
"Got to be," Remus muttered. "You spend half your time in zombie villages in Africa and the like..."
Arthur's brow furrowed. "Are you still running about?"
"Peter's still loose."
The red-headed man scowled. "You're the only one who thinks so."
"Listen, all I know is they didn't find a body -- "
" -- fingers! -- "
"And if there's no body I'm not satisfied," Remus continued. "Fingers aren't a body."
Arthur shook his head. "I never could fathom how Malfoy got there before you did."
"I have my theories," Sirius said darkly.
"I for one am glad he did," Remus continued. "Otherwise it'd've been Sirius."
"I could have handled him!"
"Well, that's a moot point."
"What on earth happened that day?" Arthur asked. "I've been meaning to ask you. Dumbledore never gives a straight answer, and you know what the Prophet reporting is like..."
Remus crossed the kitchen, opening one of the cupboards deliberately, and withdrew a bottle of firewhiskey. He uncapped it and poured a decent amount into Sirius' cup, and then, after a nod, into Arthur's.
"Sirius was going to be James and Lily's Secret-Keeper," he said. "But he knew the Dark Lord would look for him first. He thought it ought to be someone that wouldn't be suspected. At the time they thought I was a spy," he drawled, with the amused perspective of one who has had seven years in which to consider matters. "So James and Lily chose Peter. Peter went to the Dark Lord that night, after it was done, and told him where to find them."
"I can tell it," Sirius said, sipping his tea. "By the time I got there it was over. Hagrid was there, with...with Harry," he said, clenching the mug. "I was going to go find Peter and rip his bloody arms off -- "
"I wasn't even supposed to be in the country, I had a job I was supposed to be taking in Rome," Remus put in. "They were sending me money for travel, but the owl got lost...when I heard, I left for Godric's Hollow."
"Made me send Hagrid off on the bike with Harry," Sirius grumbled. "We started looking, but we took a wrong turning -- "
" -- my fault -- " Remus muttered.
"And Lucius Malfoy got to Peter first," Sirius finished. "The Death Eaters all think Peter set the Dark Lord up for a fall, so Lucius had no more love for him than we did. They say there was a struggle, a duel. Twenty Muggles dead."
"The papers said eight," Arthur said, astonished.
"The papers lied," Sirius answered. "The Aurors got there late but they got Malfoy. They found a couple of Peter's fingers."
"Which is not proof he died," Remus interjected.
"And the Aurors had Malfoy, so they didn't put themselves out overmuch. Moody says it took three of them to disarm him anyhow," Sirius added. "They had him locked up and a Dementor got in..."
"...and he's now a raving maniac," Remus said, only a small note of triumph in his voice. "And serve him right."
Arthur was drinking his tea, listening carefully to the shared narrative.
"Sirius bought the house on Privet Drive and the bookshop, and after realising that he hated selling things and I was about to be thrown out into the street to starve..." Remus grinned. "He hired me. And then we kidnapped Harry Potter and Dumbledore beat us to death with Harry's stuffed frog."
"He failed Divination," Sirius said, gesturing to Remus with his mug.
"I didn't fail. I refused on principle to take the test," Remus answered.
"And what are you going to do with the boy now?" Arthur asked. "Send him off to school as if nothing happened? You can't watch him every second of every day."
"I'm distant blood-kin to him, so the protection spell should at least keep him safe out in the world. The rest of the time Padfoot can watch him."
Arthur grinned. "Where is the big oaf? I thought for sure he'd want to be underfoot during all the excitement."
"Hiding under the bed, I imagine," Remus answered. "We can keep Harry safe until he goes to Hogwarts. Then it's up to Dumbledore."
"I don't think he ought to go back to that school," Sirius said suddenly. "Not with Dudley Dursley around."
"There are bullies at any school," Remus reminded him.
"Not like Dursley there aren't. And anyway, I don't see why he has to go to school at all, they're not teaching him anything useful."
"No, only reading, writing, maths, and basic science," Remus said, a twinge of sarcasm in his voice.
"I think I'll leave you two to your fistfight," Arthur said. "I've got to get back. Owl me, I'd like to know what happens next," he added, and Disapparated with a crack.
Silence fell over the kitchen.
"Do you see me looking longingly at the remains of that firewhiskey?" Sirius asked.
"That's all I need, Harry Potter napping in my bed, Dumbledore on my front step, and Sirius Black drunk in my kitchen," Remus snapped.
"Didn't say I was going to DO anything about it," Sirius muttered.
***
When Harry woke, it was to the sound of faint doggy snores and the heavy weight of Padfoot's head on his legs. The lights were out, and dim illumination from the streetlamp outside the window turned a stripe of Padfoot's black fur to silver.
Harry slid silently out of bed and walked down the narrow corridor. Light shone out of one room, and he peered inside carefully.
Moony was sitting at a desk, writing something with what looked like a feather -- a quill, Harry thought, recognizing it from paintings in history books. He took a pinch of something from a jar and sprinkled it over the paper, then poured a few drops of some cloudy green liquid into his palm and scattered that over the powder. There was a brief flash of light and Moony looked pleased, folding the paper and tucking it into a crack in the wall.
Harry, not eager to be caught watching Moony do magic, hurried out into the kitchen. He found a glass in one of the low cupboards, and was contemplating how to reach the sink when a pair of hands lifted him under the arms and propped him against the counter.
"Thirsty?" Moony asked with a smile. Harry turned the spigot and filled the glass, and Moony set him down.
"A little," Harry answered, sipping. "Where'd Sirius go?"
"Home, for now. He'll be back in the morning. You're safe here with Pads and me. Now back to bed with you, Harry."
"Where are you sleeping?" Harry asked.
"I don't think I'd sleep much tonight, even if I had a place," Moony said. "But if I'm tired I'll sleep on the couch."
"Are you in trouble cos of me?" Harry asked.
"Sort of. I spent a lot of this afternoon being yelled at while you were asleep. There's a man named Albus Dumbledore -- you'll meet him when you start school at Hogwarts -- and he wasn't very happy that we took you from the Dursleys."
"I hate the Dursleys," Harry said vehemently.
"Fortunately, you're not going back."
"I'm not?"
"No. You're going to live here, with me. Or possibly we'll move somewhere safe. We don't know yet."
Harry looked up at him. Moony's hair was brown, but already going grey; his face was lined and worried, but his eyes were bright and warm. He wasn't used to seeing affection in anyone's face, and the sensation was unfamiliar to him.
"What if they take me back?"
"Nobody's taking you out of this flat, unless it's over my dead body, and I am a tenacious bugger," Remus said. Harry laughed. "And once they got past me they'd have to get past Padfoot," he added, following Harry into the bedroom. He took the glass from the boy and set it on the beside table, clearing away several large books. "Go back to sleep," he said.
Harry curled up, his back pressed to Padfoot's bony, fuzzy spine, and closed his eyes. Remus waited for a minute, looking down at the child, smaller than Padfoot and infinitely more fragile.
Remus could remember the day he was born; could still see James holding his son in his arms, absolutely incapable of saying a word. The first child of the four friends; back then none of them ever thought Sirius would marry, and Remus kept his affairs private, and Peter was...well, Peter...so it wasn't surprising that all four of them looked on the child as their own.
He could remember holding Harry in one hand and wondering how on earth James Potter, of all people, could be a father.
He could remember standing in Godric's Hollow amid the wreckage of what had been the Potters' home and wondering how on earth James could be dead.
Padfoot lifted his head and regarded Remus over one shoulder with solemn, dark doggy eyes. Remus closed his eyes and shook his head. He turned and walked out of the bedroom, down the hall to his small office. If they stayed, it could be Harry's room. If Sirius stayed too, he'd have to get a smaller bed and share his bedroom with Sirius, unless Sirius wanted to spend every night as a dog.
He had no idea what he'd do when the full moon came again. Fortunately it wasn't due for nearly three weeks, so he had time.
He paused in the office. He could do no more wardings tonight. He'd put every possible protection on the place, at least every protection he could do alone. In the morning perhaps he'd make Sirius help him do a few more.
He turned out the lights and locked the office, continuing into the kitchen. The firewhiskey was still out, and he filled a mug with it halfway, adding cold tea and stirring with his wand to heat it.
Dumbledore had arrived that afternoon, furious and terrifying. He'd actually shouted, and Remus had never in his life heard Dumbledore shout.
Sirius had shouted back.
Remus had sat quietly until Dumbledore's wrath had turned on him, at which point he'd calmly repeated what Harry had told them about how he lived. He'd pointed out, heart thudding in his ribcage, that the spell was already broken, and that he himself was blood kin to Harry, however distant it might be. He'd listened to everything Dumbledore had said and then he had simply said no.
No, we are keeping Harry. No, we will not give him back. No, he will stay with us. No, you don't get to tell us what to do.
He understood why Sirius was Harry's godfather -- James and Sirius had always been the closest of the four -- but sometimes he wondered if Sirius understood what was expected of him. He knew Sirius would die, without hesitation, to protect the lad. He knew Sirius would kill without hesitation too. But he wondered if Sirius would or even could do the small things that Harry needed much more: feed and clothe the boy, consider his education, teach him some kind of morals, show him how a man ought to live. Reassure him when he was frightened. Listen, even in the middle of the night, for the soft footfalls of a child who was thirsty, or sick, or upset.
Dumbledore would send them instructions on what they would be allowed to do. They had already been expressly forbidden to take him to Diagon Alley, or Hogsmeade, or anywhere they were likely to run into wizards.
Tomorrow they would buy Harry new clothes and some proper toys. In the afternoon they would sit at the kitchen table and decide what they were going to do, whether they would stay in the small flat near Sandust Books, or sell the bookshop and move somewhere remote, somewhere they were unlikely to be found. Whether Harry would be sent to a boarding school, perhaps, though Remus cringed at the idea of finally having freed Harry from the Dursleys only to send him off again.
So many questions.
This must be, he thought with a bitter smile, how James felt, eight and a half years ago.
***
Harry was ecstatic. Shy, it was true, but deliriously happy. Sirius wasn't sure how one small body could hold so much pent-up excitement.
Remus had stopped only briefly at Sandust Books to hang a sign in the window announcing the store was closed for the day. Several of the locals, including Clara, who owned Woman's Intuition, and one of the many brothers who worked at the bakery, had met Harry and made much of him as Sirius' godson. They'd gone to the shoe store and bought Harry new trainers; the department store yielded clothing, including a scarlet-and-gold rugby shirt that Sirius insisted on buying though it was a size too big, and which Harry rapturously refused to take off.
Remus found a baseball cap with a frog on it, and talked Sirius out of buying a child-sized safety helmet so that he'd have an excuse to take Harry on the motorbike. Harry was allowed to pick out a brand new book bag, one with thousands of pockets, and Sirius quietly slipped nearly ten pounds' worth of sweets into it, purchased while Harry and Remus were next door in the toy shop.
Sirius fully expected Harry to want one of everything, but the boy was grave and choosy as he picked out a robot that lit up, a new pencil-case shaped like a dragon, and a see-through globe of the world.
"Isn't there anything else you want?" Sirius asked, as he paid for the toys in strange multicoloured Muggle money. Outside, Remus was being accosted by a few of the bookshop's regulars, who probably wanted to know why they were closed.
"No," Harry said, easily. "I needed a new pencil case," he added, holding it up so that the dragon's face was pointing at his own and growling at it.
"But there's thousands of toys here."
"Yeah, but I don't need 'em," Harry answered. "I like the robot though. It'll light up at night and then it won't be so dark."
"But you know you don't have to have a reason to want a toy," Sirius said desperately. Harry looked up at him, curious.
"I like globes," he said, finally, as if that settled things. Sirius tucked the box with the globe in it under one arm, sighed, and led Harry from the store. Obviously he'd got Lily's pragmatic genes.
They bought ice cream and sat down amid thousands of shopping bags, as Harry was tired and Sirius never passed up an excuse to eat ice cream. Remus has been silent ever since they'd bought Harry's book bag, and while Sirius was used to a certain amount of thoughtful contemplation on Moony's part, this was a bit much.
Harry wouldn't shut up.
"And then I'm going to put all my pencils in my dragon, and try on all my socks, and -- look," he said, pointing to the globe he'd removed from its box. "That's where we are. And there's a boy at school who's from..." he spun it carefully, and jabbed at China, "There, and he brings all sorts of different food for lunch, it's brilliant. And that's America, and that's Australia, they're upside-down there, you know..."
"All right, Moony?" Sirius asked quietly, when Harry stopped to take a bite of his ice cream. Remus glanced up at him.
"Can't think and talk at the same time," he said, with a small grin. "And I'm thinking really, really hard."
"About Harry?"
"Among other things."
Sirius nodded. "You're thinking about school."
"Eight hours a day we can't protect him, you're bloody right I'm thinking about school," Remus answered.
"What're you talking about?" Harry asked curiously, standing on his chair to lean further over the table. Sirius reached over and lifted him up, setting him back down in the chair firmly.
"School," Remus answered. "And what we're going to do with you."
"I like school. Sort of."
"Harry, how'd you like to go to a different school?" Sirius asked, picking up the globe and re-packing it. Harry fiddled with the sleeves on his rugby shirt. Remus glanced sideways at him.
"What sort?" Harry asked finally.
"Well, what if you could go to a really small school? With only a few other kids?"
"Sirius, what are you on about?" Remus asked.
"Molly Weasley teaches her kids at home," Sirius replied. "I know she sometimes has a few other kids, too, takes in a little extra money that way. Bet you anything she'd let Harry in."
"We're not supposed to expose him to other magical -- "
"Oh, come on, it's just the Weasleys, it's only school. He can play with Ron, they'll get on well together."
"It'll all end in grass stains," Remus sighed.
"I'd like that," Harry said decidedly. "Can I take my new book bag?"
"I'll speak to Molly about it," Sirius said. Remus gave him a peculiar look. "What?"
"Nothing...that's good. Good," Remus said, and bent to finish his food. Sirius smiled as he watched the child play.
"He's where he belongs now," he said, very softly.
"Now we've got to make sure he stays alive long enough to enjoy it," Remus replied.
So like Moony. Always the worrier.
***
Remus didn't have a floo hookup in his flat; there was one in Sandust, in the back, and it was dangerous for him to have one at home -- occasionally he was required to lock himself in the flat for the full moon, and he never knew what might happen. So Sirius ended up at Sandust again, engaged in a negotiation-by-floo with Molly Weasley, who was understandably nervous about having Harry Potter in her informal little school. Still, Sirius was willing to pay -- Sirius had plenty of money to pay, especially after his mother's death -- and Molly had a soft heart for a little boy who'd spent his whole life among Muggles.
Remus, meanwhile, was clearing out his office, moving the books into the living room, floating the desk awkwardly through the door. HE showed Harry where his own bed would be, and the dresser and bookshelf, and a desk if Harry wanted it, until Harry was entirely overwhelmed.
Crowded into the tiny dining room of Remus' flat, the three of them ate dinner, Harry quiet and exhausted, Sirius thoughtful, Remus worried.
"Where's Padfoot gone?" Harry asked finally. Sirius sighed quietly.
"I think we ought to tell him," he said, to Remus, who nodded.
"Tell me what?" Harry's voice was curious.
"Harry...you thought Padfoot was a magic dog," Remus said. "And we didn't want to show you too much magic at once, it's hard to get used to..."
"I knew it! Padfoot can talk!"
"Not exactly," Sirius said. "Harry...you have to keep it a secret."
Harry nodded. Sirius wiped his mouth, stood up, and looked to Remus, who nodded.
"Don't be scared," he said.
Remus, who had seen the Change before, watched Harry's face as Sirius' body twisted, warping slowly into the shape of the big black dog who'd caught Harry from falling the first day.
Padfoot hung his head and looked up at Harry warily. Harry glanced at Remus.
"Sirius is Padfoot," Remus said, feeling that this was unnecessary, but doing it anyway. "And Padfoot is Sirius."
Harry looked at the dog again. Carefully, he picked up a sausage from his plate, and held it out. Padfoot took it, delicately, and swallowed it. Harry patted his head.
"My godfather's a dog," he said.
"Well, only once in a while."
"Was he a dog and you changed him into a human?" Harry asked.
"No."
"Is he a werewolf?"
Remus felt something tighten in his chest. "No," he managed. "He's an Animagus. He's a wizard who can turn into an animal."
"Oooh," Harry said. He patted Padfoot on the head. "You can go back now," he announced. A second later, Sirius was standing there, hands at his sides, looking expectant.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Harry," he said. Harry looked up at him.
"Good dog," he said. Sirius smiled warily. "I knew you were magic."
He hopped off his chair and went to the sink. "Pick me up?" he asked. Sirius lifted him and let him fill his glass again. "We need a stool," Harry mused.
"Harry, your godfather's a dog," Remus pointed out. Harry climbed back into his chair.
"I knew Padfoot was magic," he repeated, calmly. "Do you change into an animal?" he asked Remus, who choked on a piece of chicken and had to be thwacked on the back by Sirius.
"Remus isn't an Animagus," Sirius said, while Remus recovered from a close encounter of the poultry kind. "Listen, Harry, I've spoken with Molly Weasley -- she's Arthur's wife -- and she says she'd like to have you come to see her tomorrow."
"M'kay," Harry said, finishing his dinner. "Can I go read?"
Remus waved him off, and Harry ran into the living room. They could hear him flop onto the couch.
"I erm...reckon you'll be around again this evening?" Remus said, when he'd fully recovered. Sirius was pushing food around his plate.
"I'd like to stay. I can take the couch this time."
"I think Harry's happier when Padfoot's the one sharing the bed."
"Your couch is not fit for sleeping on," Sirius said sternly.
"Never stopped me before. Listen...what're you going to do? With the house on Privet Drive?"
"Well, reckon I could sell it...not that I want to move in if you think there's not room -- "
" -- no, it's not that at all -- "
" -- just, you know, there's no point to keeping the house, now that Harry's here," Sirius added.
"I mean, Harry's going to have my office and you and I could -- there's enough room in the bedroom for two beds..."
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "You sound like you've been thinking about this."
"Well, someone had to, didn't they?" Remus sipped his water. "Long as you don't mind sharing a room again."
"I suffered your snoring for seven years, I can probably get used to it again."
"My snoring!" Remus snorted. "What about your bloody sleepwalking?"
"That was ONCE, and I still say James hexed me."
"You can have a doggie basket," Remus said magnanimously. Sirius made a face. "Listen though...what about your things?"
"I'll sell the furniture, most of the stuff in the house isn't important anyhow."
"And..." Remus looked uncomfortable. "Well."
Sirius waited patiently.
"If Harry's here, you know...you can't be bringing women back here all the time," Remus blurted. "I mean it's bad enough when I show up to drop off a book and there's some unknown girl running about -- "
"It happens THREE TIMES and he never forgets -- "
"Well, imagine what Harry would think."
Sirius leaned back in his chair. "Fine. But in that case, you can't be bringing men home anymore either."
Remus blinked at him.
"I've known you for seventeen years, I'm not blind, you know," Sirius said with a grin. "You think Padfoot never noticed those 'rare-book collectors' hanging about?"
Remus was still staring.
"Pity of Merlin, Remus, I don't care," Sirius said finally. "It was just a joke."
"Oh," Remus said finally. "Well, I never do anyway."
"No wonder you're so anxious all the time."
"Not funny, Sirius."
"It is from this chair," Sirius grinned. Remus shook his head and smiled slightly.
"Pads and Harry can have the bed again tonight. You are going to get Harry his own bed and set up the rest while he's at school and I'm working, tomorrow."
"Sirius Black, Homemaker of the Year," Sirius answered, saluting.
"And for the love of God, if you bring that hideous painting in your living room to my flat, I will burn it," Remus added, as he set their plates in the sink. A brush on the counter leapt up and began to wash them automatically. They heard a snort of childish laughter from the living room, and Sirius rose.
"If you'll excuse me," he said, with a dignified look, "I have a godson to read to."
***
"Lunch?"
"Uh huh."
"Books? Quill? Sirius gave you some parchment, didn't he?"
"Uh huh."
"Got all the sweets Sirius kept slipping you?"
"You weren't s'posed to see that."
"I see everything, Harry."
"Everything?"
"Well. Almost everything. You're to be polite to Molly, she's your teacher now."
"Kay."
"And no fighting with the others."
"What if they don't like me?"
"Harry, they're like you. They're special. They're wizarding children, same as you. Of course they'll like you."
"But what if they don't?"
"Well...give them some of Sirius' sweets."
"Does that work?"
"Worked for Sirius when he was starting school. He gave your dad a fizzing whizzbee and they were friends for life."
"I got humbugs and a chocolate bar and some funny-lookin' jelly beans."
"You're armed and ready. You'll be fine. Go on now."
"Moony?"
"Mmm?"
"Are they gonna laugh?"
"No, Harry."
"Even if I have Frog in my bag?"
"I guarantee you, Harry, with a stuffed frog, you will be the envy of all the children."
***
Time passed, it seemed, at once quickly and slowly. They settled into a routine, hard to adjust to at first but, as with most routines, soon so familiar that they couldn't recall it being any other way. Remus and Sirius had their beds on opposite sides of what had been Remus' bedroom, with dressers between them, subtly dividing the living space; Harry had his room off the hallway, and sometimes Padfoot, if Harry was having a particularly anxious day, slept on the foot of Harry's bed. In the morning, Remus took Harry to Sandust and saw him off, via floo, to The Burrow; in the afternoon Harry returned, by which time Sirius (or Padfoot) was there to watch over him as he studied in the bookshop or played with the other children.
They never let him go very far, certainly not out of earshot, and Harry chafed, but he had been raised to be obedient and quiet. And besides, there were few places he could go that Padfoot couldn't follow.
He even saw Dudley once, shopping with his mother in the market, but he hid behind Padfoot and the big black dog growled so menacingly that several passers-by stopped to make sure Harry was all right.
Their lives had settled so quickly, and so surprisingly seamlessly, that Sirius was almost taken aback when Remus, bent over his meal, remarked that it would be the full moon in two days. Sirius hadn't noticed the gaunt, drawn look that Remus always got a few days beforehand; Harry didn't know anything was wrong. Normally it was simple -- Remus would ask Sirius to dinner, and Sirius would realise that it was the full moon, and for two days and the full moon night he would stay at the flat, as Padfoot, to keep Remus company. It wasn't perfect -- the wolf often got restless -- but nobody got hurt, and Remus survived with his sanity intact.
"Wossat mean?" Harry asked, around a mouthful of mashed potatoes. He was still fascinated with magic, though he saw enough of it by now. "You gonna do a spell at the full moon?"
Remus looked uncomfortable. "No, not exactly. This is grownups business, Harry."
Harry looked sullen, and stabbed his roast beef viciously.
"Perhaps we ought to talk about it later," Sirius said pointedly, and Remus nodded. "Harry, how're you getting on at The Burrow?"
"Ron showed me how to get rid of gnomes," Harry muttered. "And Ginny pulled on my hair."
"Girls do that sometimes," Sirius agreed. "Having fun?"
Harry shrugged. "Guess so."
Remus sat back a little, keeping to himself as Sirius quizzed Harry about school, about his studies, about what he was reading from the bookstore. It was Sirius' job to do that; Sirius recommended the books he read, watched over his studies, tucked him in at night.
Remus, meanwhile, was going to have to find somewhere to go for the full moon, lest he turn into a slavering monster and try to eat his best friend's godson.
He felt this was somehow vaguely unfair of the universe.
After dinner was done, and Harry'd washed and brushed his teeth and been put to bed to read, Sirius leaned in the doorway of the living room. Remus was working at his desk, checking the month's accounts for the bookshop.
"You should have told me sooner," he said quietly. Remus shook his head.
"Didn't think about it myself -- the whole Dursley affair put me off my schedule, having Harry here, all of it."
"We could send Harry to the Weasleys'."
"Not for two nights running -- you know how I get the night before the full moon, I might as well be a wolf anyway," Remus sighed. "I mean to say. What would they think? They're bound to ask questions." He put his head in his hands. "You ought to take Harry away. We can put wards on any other flat just as well as this one. Get your own place, you and him."
"Is that what you want?"
"Of course not. I want Harry here. Where I can watch him too. But what I want doesn't come into it. He's your godson, and you're not the one going feral every twenty-eight days."
Sirius considered this. "We couldn't ward another flat like this one. Not without your blood connection to James."
Remus let his head slide down onto the table, covering it with his hands. "Well, I've gone over my options. I was hoping you'd have some. I've just got the one."
"Sending Harry off?"
"No. But you've got keys and you know how the shop is run, you can look after Harry. I think I've got to go back to Hogsmeade."
Sirius flopped on the couch, confused. "What's in Hogsmeade?"
Remus lifted his head to look at him. Sirius' eyes widened.
"There is no way in hell you're going back to that pit, Moony," he said, urgently. "Not after all this time."
"It's the only safe way."
"You're not going back there!" Sirius insisted.
"Don't be ridiculous about it."
"I know what your transformations were like, I saw you afterwards," Sirius continued. "I didn't spend two years learning to be an Animagus just so you could go back to the Shrieking Shack and go through it all over again."
"Then come up with another option, Sirius, by all means." Remus spread his hands. "It's not like I want to go back to that. Merlin knows I don't."
Sirius could count the number of full moons that Remus had spent alone, after that first Animagus transformation, on one hand. Once when the tunnel had collapsed while they were still at school, and none of them but Remus could get to the Shack; once, after school was done, when Sirius had been in St. Mungo's with a vicious magical pneumonia; twice when he was traveling, in search of Peter, and couldn't make it back to Sirius and his flat in time. Four times in twelve years -- in over one hundred and fifty full moons.
"You can't think of any alternatives because there aren't any," Remus said calmly. "It's all right. Day after tomorrow I'll see Harry off to school and Apparate to Hogsmeade. I can take Dumbledore a peace offering, he's still furious with us...might even be a Quidditch game I could see."
"And then go lock yourself in a shack and try to rip your own skin off," Sirius growled.
"Better mine than Harry's," Remus replied evenly.
***
Harry didn't see why he couldn't go with Sirius to fetch Moony from wherever he'd gone. Moony'd been away for two days, and Harry missed him, which was odd, because Moony was quiet and never said much -- not like Sirius. Moony was like a dog himself, Harry decided; you didn't see him a whole lot when he was there, but when he wasn't you missed his presence.
Instead, he stayed late at Mr. and Mrs. Weasleys' house, until Sirius came to get him. It wasn't so bad; Fred and George taught him how to pick locks, and Ron and he shared an apple, and Ginny spilled paint on him, which was always fun, as he got to watch Mrs. Weasley clean it magically.
When Sirius unlocked the door and swung it open, Harry dropped his book bag and immediately ran into the kitchen to find Moony; when he wasn't there, he pushed past Sirius and ran to the bedroom.
Sirius' hands caught him before he could get all the way to Moony's bed to jump up on it. Harry got only a glimpse of Moony, curled shirtless on the counterpane, but it was enough. There were large scratches along his ribcage, vicious open welts of a sort Harry had never encountered before. Moony was shaking, arms clutched around his body. There were scores on his face, too, and what looked like bitemarks on his hands.
"What's wrong with Moony?" he demanded loudly, as Sirius carried him away from the bedroom. He squirmed in Sirius' grip. "What happened to him? You didn't bite him, did you?"
"Shh, you'll wake him," Sirius answered, setting Harry down in his own bedroom and closing the door. He crouched. Harry stomped his foot.
"Why's he hurt!" Harry shouted.
"Harry, it's a disease. There's nothing you can do by shouting. I didn't hurt Moony, all right?" Sirius said, his voice almost panicked. "It's okay. He's going to be fine. He'll be fine in the morning, you wait and see."
"He's all bitten and stuff!"
"It looks that way, I know, but I promise you, Harry, in the morning he'll be fine. Trust me, will you, kid?" Sirius pleaded. Harry scowled.
"Is he catching?" he asked, finally. Sirius shook his head.
"He's safe. He just got sick, that's all. Moony...he's going to get sick sometimes. He's not as strong as you and me."
Harry's eyes widened.
"So you just have to understand that sometimes you can't be with Moony, okay?"
Harry sat on his bed and crossed his legs, looking thoughtful. Sirius stayed in his crouch, waiting for a sign of acceptance.
"Does he want Frog?" Harry asked, picking up the plush frog from a mostly-empty toy chest and holding it out to Sirius.
***
"Does it hurt?"
"Only while it's...healing. It'll be fast. Usually doesn't...umm. Take more than a day."
"How much longer?"
"Another two, three hours. I think. Jesus Christ in stilettos..."
"You've been around Muggles too much, picking up their profanity like that."
"Ha bloody ha. Ow."
"Anything I can do?"
"Yes. Kill me."
"I told you it was a mistake."
"Oooh, or tell me what a fool I am, ta ever so, Pads."
"Sorry."
"Sirius..."
"What?"
"Harry saw, didn't he?"
"Just a glimpse. I told him it was a magic flu."
"I should have stayed in the Shack until I was healed fully. Shouldn't have let you Apparate me back. Next month. Next month."
"You can't do this, you're not thirteen anymore."
"I can do this. Argh."
"You'll scar."
"Sirius, go away and let me die in peace."
"I only came back to leave something off. Harry sent it."
"I'll bleed on it."
"We'll clean it. Take it."
"How stupid do I look?"
"Really stupid. You feel better?"
"...yes."
To the Next Part
He'd never seen inside the place, though. He wondered if, today, he might actually get to.
Sirius stood behind him on the front step of the house, arms crossed. Remus had to admit that if you didn't know how idiotic Sirius could be, you'd probably be afraid of him.
Well. Up to Remus Lupin to be the voice of reason, as usual.
He knocked on the door. There was a pounding of feet and then Harry opened it breathlessly. His eyes widened.
"WELL, WHO IS IT THEN?" drifted a voice from inside.
"We'd like to speak to your uncle, Harry," Remus said. Harry nodded and turned.
"UNCLE VERNON!" he called. There was the sound of someone getting to their feet, and Vernon Dursley's heavy footfalls. Harry scurried away fearfully as the thick-necked, red-faced man reached the doorway.
"You," he said, eyes narrowing. "Black," he added, speaking over Remus' shoulder to Sirius, who -- true to a promise coerced out of him earlier that day -- didn't say anything.
"Mr. Dursley, My name is Remus Lupin," Remus said. "I see you've met Sirius. May we come in?"
Dursley stood aside, and they stepped into the dim house. It was obsessively clean, but it smelled...well, wrong. Remus could hear Sirius sniff, behind him, and knew the other man was thinking the same thing.
"We'd like to have a word with you about Harry," Remus continued. "As I'm sure you're aware, Sirius is Harry's godfather, and while we understand -- "
"You? The freak with the motorbike?" Vernon said. Sirius let out a quiet growl. Remus, dumbfounded by the man's sheer audacity, gathered his wits.
"Surely you knew James and Lily had named Sirius in their will," he said, hurriedly. "We know that Harry needs protection and that's why he's been placed with blood family -- "
"HA! Protection from the likes of Black! And the rest of the -- the freak world his parents came from!"
"Mr. Dursley, please stop using that word," Remus said, trying to be patient.
"And you! I suppose you're one too," Vernon said, turning on Remus. "A wastrel like my wife's sister and her good for nothing -- "
"If you say that about James again, I will personally put your nose through the back of your head," Remus growled.
"I'd like to see you try it!" Vernon blustered. Remus gritted his teeth.
"Your son's bullying Harry. We want it stopped."
"Dudley's doing nothing of the kind."
"We saw it happen, Dursley."
"He's fed and clothed and has a roof over his head, which is more than you or that godfather of his ever did for him," Vernon said, face turning beet red. "Never saw a penny to help out with our expenses, either. The boy goes about breaking things, making the place untidy -- "
"He's eight years old!" Remus waited for Sirius to break in, but apparently he was exercising some modicum of self control. "Your son throws rocks at old women!"
"Lies and slander!" Vernon roared.
"Sirius, I think you can menace now," Remus said. There was no reply, and he glanced behind him.
Sirius stood in the doorway, one hand in Harry's, the other carrying a disturbingly cheery backpack. Harry's backpack. Harry was clutching a small plush frog in one hand.
"You keep him in a cupboard," Sirius said quietly. "With no lights except a torch he had to steal. You lock him in when you're tired of dealing with him. Your son has broken every toy the boy has ever managed to scrounge up. He torments him mercilessly. So, I suspect, do you."
Sirius picked up Harry, and handed his bag to Remus.
"You're lucky I don't kill you," he said fiercely. Vernon Dursley was too stunned to do more than gape. "You're lucky I don't call the Aurors -- "
" -- police -- " Remus coughed.
"And have you arrested and sent up for being an absolute -- "
"Sirius," Remus said sharply. "Let's go. Now."
Sirius growled at Petunia, who had entered when Vernon started shouting, and was standing between him and the door. She scuttled aside. Harry, arms wrapped tightly around his neck, shivered.
And then they were outside in the sunshine, moving quickly down the street, Sirius grave and furious, Remus silent. Harry was still clutching Sirius' neck, the frog squashed between his hand and Sirius' collarbone.
The door of Sirius' small house slammed open and he stormed inside, setting Harry down on the counter in the kitchen so that the boy's legs hung over the edge. Remus laid the backpack carefully on the table.
"Everything the boy owns fits in a backpack," Sirius muttered.
"His clothes, too?"
"I wouldn't touch those clothes," Sirius said sharply. "he won't need them. We'll buy him his own clothes."
"Dumbledore's going to kill us," Remus said slowly.
"I don't care."
Remus looked at Harry. "Really, they locked you in a cupboard?"
Harry, terrified, nodded slowly. He had both arms around the toy now, and was shaking.
"Nothing else to be done, then," Remus mused.
"You're damned right!" Sirius shouted. Remus saw Harry wince. "Did you see? You talked to that monstrous Muggle!"
"Sirius, you're scaring him."
"Well, I'm angry!"
"And he's eight! Shut it, or I'll shut it for you!" Remus snapped. Sirius, stunned by his words, stopped mid-diatribe. He glanced at Harry, who was staring at them.
"I...I'm eight and a half," Harry said quietly. There was a moment of absolute silence.
Sirius threw back his head and roared with sudden laughter. He moved to the counter, wiping tears from his eyes, and hugged Harry tightly. Remus sank into a chair, resting his head on his hands, exhausted.
"Well, what do you think of that, Harry?" Sirius said, when he finally got himself under control. "How'd you like to come live with your godfather Sirius?"
"Can I have books now?" Harry asked timidly. There was a distinctly amused noise from Remus' general direction.
"Absolutely," Sirius promised. "We could go to the bookshop right now -- "
Remus lifted his head. "I think we ought to," he agreed. "I don't think Harry ought to stay here. It's too close to the Dursleys. It's dangerous," he added significantly. Sirius nodded.
"Your flat?"
"It's a bit small," Remus sighed. "But I think it'll be safer."
***
Harry wouldn't let go of the frog, and wouldn't stop shaking, until he was installed in one of the enormous wing-chairs in Sandust Books.
"I think I'll put off that trip to India," Remus said, as Sirius located Diggers, his own personal copy, and gave it to Harry. The boy solemnly tucked his frog between his hip and the arm of the chair, drew his knees up to prop the book on, and began to read. "If we're going to get in hot water over it, both of us ought to be here."
"You'd think you were his godfather."
"James was my friend too," Remus said reproachfully.
Sirius crossed his arms, also watching Harry. "If you want to go, you should go, but I'd rather you stayed."
"Then I'll stay. Besides, you don't know where anything in my flat is," Remus said, lips quirking up slightly. "There's only the bed and the couch, I'm afraid."
"We'll put Harry on the couch, and he can share it with Padfoot," Sirius said.
"You shed."
"I'm getting my summer coat."
"You've been continually getting your summer coat for twelve years, then," Remus answered, aware that he was talking around the problem at hand. "So."
"So."
"Do you want to send the owl to Dumbledore, or should I?"
Sirius sighed. "I'll do it. Watch the lad."
"Doubt I'll be doing much else, for the next few years," Remus murmured, when Sirius was gone. He saw Harry's eyes dart up from the book, then back down. After a moment, he did it again.
"Harry," Remus said, slowly, "Are you scared still?"
"No," Harry said, clutching his frog. Remus crouched next to the chair.
"You did want to come with Sirius, didn't you?" he asked quietly. Harry nodded. "Can I see your frog?"
Harry offered it to him, and Remus turned the battered plush toy over in his hands. It was the cheap sort you got from carnival fairway games; Remus reckoned he'd found it somewhere and turned it into a sort of teddy bear. It was threadbare, leaking stuffing from one of its webbed feet, and unwashed; he considered it for a minute before saying his next words.
"Sirius tells me you think I'm a magician," he said.
"Aren't you?" Harry asked. "Your dog is magic."
"Harry, what sort of magic do you suppose I do?"
"Making dogs smart and making things disappear and turning things into other things and all," Harry said promptly. "And knowing things about people."
"Harry...there are two different worlds, you know. There's the world your uncle and cousin and aunt live in. And we call them Muggles," Remus said carefully. "And then there's another world that you and Sirius and I are a part of. And that's called the Wizarding World."
"Me too?" Harry asked.
"Yes, I should say so, Harry," Remus said. "You're magic. Like us." He took his wand out of his back pocket, and pointed it at the frog. "Want to see some magic, Harry?"
Harry nodded eagerly.
"Scourgify," Remus said, and the dull green plush brightened as a brief cascade of soap bubbles passed over the frog. "Reparo," he continued, and Harry's eyes grew wide as the rip in the webbed foot healed, the stuffing snaking back inside it. The threadbare patches seemed to grow new plush. Remus shook it, making sure there was nothing else to fix, and handed it back to Harry.
"Are you from Narnia?" Harry asked, awed.
"No, Harry. I'm from Yorkshire," Remus grinned. "Listen, you understand you can't tell anyone about this magic, all right? About any magic."
"I won't tell!" Harry squeaked.
"Cross your heart?"
"Cross my heart!"
"There's a lad," he said, as the door to the back office swung open and Sirius walked back in.
"I've sent it off," he said. "Hallo there, Harry, I see Moony fixed your frog."
Harry stroked the frog's head. "Are you magic too?"
"Yup," Sirius said, as Remus straightened. "Like you and your...your dad and mum," he finished, after only a slight hesitation.
"And Padfoot," Harry said. The two men exchanged a quick look.
"Harry..." Sirius said.
"Not right now, Sirius," Remus murmured. Sirius gave him a rebellious look, but subsided. "I think we ought to get Harry something to eat, and show him my flat. I want him fed and rested by the time Dumbledore hears."
"Got to get him some clothes, too," Sirius rumbled.
"Let's take care of that once he's settled. Come on, Harry, you can take the book..." Remus picked up his backpack for a second time, and stared as one of the shoulder straps snapped.
"I tell you what," he said quietly, to Sirius, "We'll get the boy settled, then we'll go back and massacre the Dursleys. Agreed?"
"I wanted to do it the first time round," Sirius said with a grin.
It wasn't a long walk to Remus' flat from the bookstore; they arrived about the same time a tall, red-headed man hurried up from the opposite direction.
"I floo'ed Arthur too," Sirius said sheepishly, when Remus glared. "I thought he'd know what to do."
"Hallo lads!" Arthur Weasley called, joining them as Remus unlocked the door. "Oh, blimey, are you in trouble!" he said cheerfully. "Kidnapping and spellbreaking -- "
"We were hoping you'd come down on our side," Sirius interrupted.
"And is this Harry? Tiny bit of a lad, aren't you?" Arthur said, crouching and clapping Harry on the shoulder. Harry, behind his frog, grinned. "Just about the age my Ron is, I'd wager. Eight, eight and a half?"
"And a half," Harry said shyly.
"Harry, this is Mr. Weasley, he's a friend of ours," Remus said as they trooped inside. Three grown men and an eight-and-a-half-year-old filled the small living room entirely, and Remus ducked into the kitchen. "Just be a mo, get us some tea -- do you like scones, Harry?"
"Yes, thank you," Harry said, as Sirius helped him up onto the battered, much-gnawed couch. Arthur dropped into a creaking chair, and Sirius leaned against the mantel.
"Now, I want the whole story, before the Aurors and the Ministry get hold of it," Arthur said, leaning forward. "You said something about abusing the lad, Sirius?"
"His cousin bullied him, continually," Sirius replied. "You should see the size of him."
"He eats all the breakfast I make," Harry scowled.
"You make breakfast?" Arthur asked.
"Aunt Petunia makes me."
"And he sleeps," Sirius said slowly, "In a cupboard. That they lock him up in when they think he needs to be punished."
Arthur raised his eyebrows.
"Dudley has two bedrooms," Harry whispered.
"What sorts of things do they lock you up for, Harry?"
"My hair," Harry said, ruffling it. "It sticks up too much. And once I...." he glanced at Sirius, who gave him an encouraging look. "Once I said I was talking to an animal. Only really it was talking to me," he said mournfully.
Arthur rested a chin in one hand.
"I think I could make a case for child endangerment if I worked with the Muggles on it, but I'd rather we not bring them into this. Will the Dursleys complain?"
"I'll kill them if they do," Sirius said calmly.
"Now, now," Arthur remonstrated. Remus entered, carrying a kettle and three cups, against the laws of physics, in one hand, and a plate of scones on the other.
"They're not terribly fresh -- I was leaving, I hadn't done shopping..." he said apologetically. Harry eyed the scones covetously, looking surprised when Remus gave an entire one of them to him. He ate neatly, spilling no crumbs and sipping his milky tea as silently as possible while the other men held a conference of looks and significant throat-clearings. Finally, Remus gathered the remains of the tea things and asked if Harry wouldn't like to help him wash up. Harry obediently hopped off of the couch and followed him into the kitchen, leaving his frog behind.
"Boy are you bollocksed," Arthur said frankly, when Harry had gone. "You do know the reason he was with the Dursleys was a protection spell?"
Sirius stared at him. "Of course I did. I didn't think you knew too."
"Which means now he's no longer protected."
"He's got me. He's got Remus. Aren't two better wizards in the world. We'll figure something out."
"There are a lot of old Death Eaters who'd like nothing better than to get their hands on him, you know that," Arthur said soberly.
"Nobody knows he's here. I'll sell my house and get a place somewhere -- maybe in Hogsmeade -- "
"You know you won't be allowed to have the boy around other wizards."
"I don't see why not."
"He's famous, Sirius. He'll never have a moment of peace."
Sirius rubbed a hand across his face. "Well, I've lived around Muggles this long, a couple more years won't matter. Then he'll be at Hogwarts. He'll be safe there."
"If he's shown magical ability," Arthur replied.
"He's James' son! How could he not?"
There was a crash from the other room.
"All right, Remus?" Sirius asked.
"All right," Remus called in reply. "Just a broken cup."
"Well, you know poor Neville Longbottom still hasn't shown any magical ability at all," Arthur said. "There's rumours going about that he might be a squib."
"Sirius! Arthur! Come and see this!" Remus' voice drifted up from the kitchen. The other two crowded into the doorway.
Harry was sitting on the counter, absorbed in a pile of white stoneware chips. Carefully, he plucked one out of the dustpan and stuck it to the jagged remains of what appeared to be a recently-dropped mug. The crack sealed itself over and Harry grinned proudly.
"I think that answers your question," Sirius said quietly.
***
Remus, declaring that Harry had been through more than any child ought to in one day, made Sirius talk him into taking a nap; the tall, dark-haired man left the boy curled in a nest of sheets and blankets in Remus' bed and came back out to the kitchen, where Arthur and Remus were in solemn conversation.
"So now we wait for Dumbledore's wrath?" he asked lightly. Remus swallowed compulsively, a sure sign that his nerves were on edge.
"Dumbledore's reply, at any rate," Arthur answered. "How are the wards on this place, Lupin?"
Remus shrugged. "Pretty good. I'll be putting some more on before nightfall. The ones on now are rather...specialised."
"Brilliant at Dark Arts, Remus is," Sirius put in. "Defence, I mean," he added hastily.
"Got to be," Remus muttered. "You spend half your time in zombie villages in Africa and the like..."
Arthur's brow furrowed. "Are you still running about?"
"Peter's still loose."
The red-headed man scowled. "You're the only one who thinks so."
"Listen, all I know is they didn't find a body -- "
" -- fingers! -- "
"And if there's no body I'm not satisfied," Remus continued. "Fingers aren't a body."
Arthur shook his head. "I never could fathom how Malfoy got there before you did."
"I have my theories," Sirius said darkly.
"I for one am glad he did," Remus continued. "Otherwise it'd've been Sirius."
"I could have handled him!"
"Well, that's a moot point."
"What on earth happened that day?" Arthur asked. "I've been meaning to ask you. Dumbledore never gives a straight answer, and you know what the Prophet reporting is like..."
Remus crossed the kitchen, opening one of the cupboards deliberately, and withdrew a bottle of firewhiskey. He uncapped it and poured a decent amount into Sirius' cup, and then, after a nod, into Arthur's.
"Sirius was going to be James and Lily's Secret-Keeper," he said. "But he knew the Dark Lord would look for him first. He thought it ought to be someone that wouldn't be suspected. At the time they thought I was a spy," he drawled, with the amused perspective of one who has had seven years in which to consider matters. "So James and Lily chose Peter. Peter went to the Dark Lord that night, after it was done, and told him where to find them."
"I can tell it," Sirius said, sipping his tea. "By the time I got there it was over. Hagrid was there, with...with Harry," he said, clenching the mug. "I was going to go find Peter and rip his bloody arms off -- "
"I wasn't even supposed to be in the country, I had a job I was supposed to be taking in Rome," Remus put in. "They were sending me money for travel, but the owl got lost...when I heard, I left for Godric's Hollow."
"Made me send Hagrid off on the bike with Harry," Sirius grumbled. "We started looking, but we took a wrong turning -- "
" -- my fault -- " Remus muttered.
"And Lucius Malfoy got to Peter first," Sirius finished. "The Death Eaters all think Peter set the Dark Lord up for a fall, so Lucius had no more love for him than we did. They say there was a struggle, a duel. Twenty Muggles dead."
"The papers said eight," Arthur said, astonished.
"The papers lied," Sirius answered. "The Aurors got there late but they got Malfoy. They found a couple of Peter's fingers."
"Which is not proof he died," Remus interjected.
"And the Aurors had Malfoy, so they didn't put themselves out overmuch. Moody says it took three of them to disarm him anyhow," Sirius added. "They had him locked up and a Dementor got in..."
"...and he's now a raving maniac," Remus said, only a small note of triumph in his voice. "And serve him right."
Arthur was drinking his tea, listening carefully to the shared narrative.
"Sirius bought the house on Privet Drive and the bookshop, and after realising that he hated selling things and I was about to be thrown out into the street to starve..." Remus grinned. "He hired me. And then we kidnapped Harry Potter and Dumbledore beat us to death with Harry's stuffed frog."
"He failed Divination," Sirius said, gesturing to Remus with his mug.
"I didn't fail. I refused on principle to take the test," Remus answered.
"And what are you going to do with the boy now?" Arthur asked. "Send him off to school as if nothing happened? You can't watch him every second of every day."
"I'm distant blood-kin to him, so the protection spell should at least keep him safe out in the world. The rest of the time Padfoot can watch him."
Arthur grinned. "Where is the big oaf? I thought for sure he'd want to be underfoot during all the excitement."
"Hiding under the bed, I imagine," Remus answered. "We can keep Harry safe until he goes to Hogwarts. Then it's up to Dumbledore."
"I don't think he ought to go back to that school," Sirius said suddenly. "Not with Dudley Dursley around."
"There are bullies at any school," Remus reminded him.
"Not like Dursley there aren't. And anyway, I don't see why he has to go to school at all, they're not teaching him anything useful."
"No, only reading, writing, maths, and basic science," Remus said, a twinge of sarcasm in his voice.
"I think I'll leave you two to your fistfight," Arthur said. "I've got to get back. Owl me, I'd like to know what happens next," he added, and Disapparated with a crack.
Silence fell over the kitchen.
"Do you see me looking longingly at the remains of that firewhiskey?" Sirius asked.
"That's all I need, Harry Potter napping in my bed, Dumbledore on my front step, and Sirius Black drunk in my kitchen," Remus snapped.
"Didn't say I was going to DO anything about it," Sirius muttered.
***
When Harry woke, it was to the sound of faint doggy snores and the heavy weight of Padfoot's head on his legs. The lights were out, and dim illumination from the streetlamp outside the window turned a stripe of Padfoot's black fur to silver.
Harry slid silently out of bed and walked down the narrow corridor. Light shone out of one room, and he peered inside carefully.
Moony was sitting at a desk, writing something with what looked like a feather -- a quill, Harry thought, recognizing it from paintings in history books. He took a pinch of something from a jar and sprinkled it over the paper, then poured a few drops of some cloudy green liquid into his palm and scattered that over the powder. There was a brief flash of light and Moony looked pleased, folding the paper and tucking it into a crack in the wall.
Harry, not eager to be caught watching Moony do magic, hurried out into the kitchen. He found a glass in one of the low cupboards, and was contemplating how to reach the sink when a pair of hands lifted him under the arms and propped him against the counter.
"Thirsty?" Moony asked with a smile. Harry turned the spigot and filled the glass, and Moony set him down.
"A little," Harry answered, sipping. "Where'd Sirius go?"
"Home, for now. He'll be back in the morning. You're safe here with Pads and me. Now back to bed with you, Harry."
"Where are you sleeping?" Harry asked.
"I don't think I'd sleep much tonight, even if I had a place," Moony said. "But if I'm tired I'll sleep on the couch."
"Are you in trouble cos of me?" Harry asked.
"Sort of. I spent a lot of this afternoon being yelled at while you were asleep. There's a man named Albus Dumbledore -- you'll meet him when you start school at Hogwarts -- and he wasn't very happy that we took you from the Dursleys."
"I hate the Dursleys," Harry said vehemently.
"Fortunately, you're not going back."
"I'm not?"
"No. You're going to live here, with me. Or possibly we'll move somewhere safe. We don't know yet."
Harry looked up at him. Moony's hair was brown, but already going grey; his face was lined and worried, but his eyes were bright and warm. He wasn't used to seeing affection in anyone's face, and the sensation was unfamiliar to him.
"What if they take me back?"
"Nobody's taking you out of this flat, unless it's over my dead body, and I am a tenacious bugger," Remus said. Harry laughed. "And once they got past me they'd have to get past Padfoot," he added, following Harry into the bedroom. He took the glass from the boy and set it on the beside table, clearing away several large books. "Go back to sleep," he said.
Harry curled up, his back pressed to Padfoot's bony, fuzzy spine, and closed his eyes. Remus waited for a minute, looking down at the child, smaller than Padfoot and infinitely more fragile.
Remus could remember the day he was born; could still see James holding his son in his arms, absolutely incapable of saying a word. The first child of the four friends; back then none of them ever thought Sirius would marry, and Remus kept his affairs private, and Peter was...well, Peter...so it wasn't surprising that all four of them looked on the child as their own.
He could remember holding Harry in one hand and wondering how on earth James Potter, of all people, could be a father.
He could remember standing in Godric's Hollow amid the wreckage of what had been the Potters' home and wondering how on earth James could be dead.
Padfoot lifted his head and regarded Remus over one shoulder with solemn, dark doggy eyes. Remus closed his eyes and shook his head. He turned and walked out of the bedroom, down the hall to his small office. If they stayed, it could be Harry's room. If Sirius stayed too, he'd have to get a smaller bed and share his bedroom with Sirius, unless Sirius wanted to spend every night as a dog.
He had no idea what he'd do when the full moon came again. Fortunately it wasn't due for nearly three weeks, so he had time.
He paused in the office. He could do no more wardings tonight. He'd put every possible protection on the place, at least every protection he could do alone. In the morning perhaps he'd make Sirius help him do a few more.
He turned out the lights and locked the office, continuing into the kitchen. The firewhiskey was still out, and he filled a mug with it halfway, adding cold tea and stirring with his wand to heat it.
Dumbledore had arrived that afternoon, furious and terrifying. He'd actually shouted, and Remus had never in his life heard Dumbledore shout.
Sirius had shouted back.
Remus had sat quietly until Dumbledore's wrath had turned on him, at which point he'd calmly repeated what Harry had told them about how he lived. He'd pointed out, heart thudding in his ribcage, that the spell was already broken, and that he himself was blood kin to Harry, however distant it might be. He'd listened to everything Dumbledore had said and then he had simply said no.
No, we are keeping Harry. No, we will not give him back. No, he will stay with us. No, you don't get to tell us what to do.
He understood why Sirius was Harry's godfather -- James and Sirius had always been the closest of the four -- but sometimes he wondered if Sirius understood what was expected of him. He knew Sirius would die, without hesitation, to protect the lad. He knew Sirius would kill without hesitation too. But he wondered if Sirius would or even could do the small things that Harry needed much more: feed and clothe the boy, consider his education, teach him some kind of morals, show him how a man ought to live. Reassure him when he was frightened. Listen, even in the middle of the night, for the soft footfalls of a child who was thirsty, or sick, or upset.
Dumbledore would send them instructions on what they would be allowed to do. They had already been expressly forbidden to take him to Diagon Alley, or Hogsmeade, or anywhere they were likely to run into wizards.
Tomorrow they would buy Harry new clothes and some proper toys. In the afternoon they would sit at the kitchen table and decide what they were going to do, whether they would stay in the small flat near Sandust Books, or sell the bookshop and move somewhere remote, somewhere they were unlikely to be found. Whether Harry would be sent to a boarding school, perhaps, though Remus cringed at the idea of finally having freed Harry from the Dursleys only to send him off again.
So many questions.
This must be, he thought with a bitter smile, how James felt, eight and a half years ago.
***
Harry was ecstatic. Shy, it was true, but deliriously happy. Sirius wasn't sure how one small body could hold so much pent-up excitement.
Remus had stopped only briefly at Sandust Books to hang a sign in the window announcing the store was closed for the day. Several of the locals, including Clara, who owned Woman's Intuition, and one of the many brothers who worked at the bakery, had met Harry and made much of him as Sirius' godson. They'd gone to the shoe store and bought Harry new trainers; the department store yielded clothing, including a scarlet-and-gold rugby shirt that Sirius insisted on buying though it was a size too big, and which Harry rapturously refused to take off.
Remus found a baseball cap with a frog on it, and talked Sirius out of buying a child-sized safety helmet so that he'd have an excuse to take Harry on the motorbike. Harry was allowed to pick out a brand new book bag, one with thousands of pockets, and Sirius quietly slipped nearly ten pounds' worth of sweets into it, purchased while Harry and Remus were next door in the toy shop.
Sirius fully expected Harry to want one of everything, but the boy was grave and choosy as he picked out a robot that lit up, a new pencil-case shaped like a dragon, and a see-through globe of the world.
"Isn't there anything else you want?" Sirius asked, as he paid for the toys in strange multicoloured Muggle money. Outside, Remus was being accosted by a few of the bookshop's regulars, who probably wanted to know why they were closed.
"No," Harry said, easily. "I needed a new pencil case," he added, holding it up so that the dragon's face was pointing at his own and growling at it.
"But there's thousands of toys here."
"Yeah, but I don't need 'em," Harry answered. "I like the robot though. It'll light up at night and then it won't be so dark."
"But you know you don't have to have a reason to want a toy," Sirius said desperately. Harry looked up at him, curious.
"I like globes," he said, finally, as if that settled things. Sirius tucked the box with the globe in it under one arm, sighed, and led Harry from the store. Obviously he'd got Lily's pragmatic genes.
They bought ice cream and sat down amid thousands of shopping bags, as Harry was tired and Sirius never passed up an excuse to eat ice cream. Remus has been silent ever since they'd bought Harry's book bag, and while Sirius was used to a certain amount of thoughtful contemplation on Moony's part, this was a bit much.
Harry wouldn't shut up.
"And then I'm going to put all my pencils in my dragon, and try on all my socks, and -- look," he said, pointing to the globe he'd removed from its box. "That's where we are. And there's a boy at school who's from..." he spun it carefully, and jabbed at China, "There, and he brings all sorts of different food for lunch, it's brilliant. And that's America, and that's Australia, they're upside-down there, you know..."
"All right, Moony?" Sirius asked quietly, when Harry stopped to take a bite of his ice cream. Remus glanced up at him.
"Can't think and talk at the same time," he said, with a small grin. "And I'm thinking really, really hard."
"About Harry?"
"Among other things."
Sirius nodded. "You're thinking about school."
"Eight hours a day we can't protect him, you're bloody right I'm thinking about school," Remus answered.
"What're you talking about?" Harry asked curiously, standing on his chair to lean further over the table. Sirius reached over and lifted him up, setting him back down in the chair firmly.
"School," Remus answered. "And what we're going to do with you."
"I like school. Sort of."
"Harry, how'd you like to go to a different school?" Sirius asked, picking up the globe and re-packing it. Harry fiddled with the sleeves on his rugby shirt. Remus glanced sideways at him.
"What sort?" Harry asked finally.
"Well, what if you could go to a really small school? With only a few other kids?"
"Sirius, what are you on about?" Remus asked.
"Molly Weasley teaches her kids at home," Sirius replied. "I know she sometimes has a few other kids, too, takes in a little extra money that way. Bet you anything she'd let Harry in."
"We're not supposed to expose him to other magical -- "
"Oh, come on, it's just the Weasleys, it's only school. He can play with Ron, they'll get on well together."
"It'll all end in grass stains," Remus sighed.
"I'd like that," Harry said decidedly. "Can I take my new book bag?"
"I'll speak to Molly about it," Sirius said. Remus gave him a peculiar look. "What?"
"Nothing...that's good. Good," Remus said, and bent to finish his food. Sirius smiled as he watched the child play.
"He's where he belongs now," he said, very softly.
"Now we've got to make sure he stays alive long enough to enjoy it," Remus replied.
So like Moony. Always the worrier.
***
Remus didn't have a floo hookup in his flat; there was one in Sandust, in the back, and it was dangerous for him to have one at home -- occasionally he was required to lock himself in the flat for the full moon, and he never knew what might happen. So Sirius ended up at Sandust again, engaged in a negotiation-by-floo with Molly Weasley, who was understandably nervous about having Harry Potter in her informal little school. Still, Sirius was willing to pay -- Sirius had plenty of money to pay, especially after his mother's death -- and Molly had a soft heart for a little boy who'd spent his whole life among Muggles.
Remus, meanwhile, was clearing out his office, moving the books into the living room, floating the desk awkwardly through the door. HE showed Harry where his own bed would be, and the dresser and bookshelf, and a desk if Harry wanted it, until Harry was entirely overwhelmed.
Crowded into the tiny dining room of Remus' flat, the three of them ate dinner, Harry quiet and exhausted, Sirius thoughtful, Remus worried.
"Where's Padfoot gone?" Harry asked finally. Sirius sighed quietly.
"I think we ought to tell him," he said, to Remus, who nodded.
"Tell me what?" Harry's voice was curious.
"Harry...you thought Padfoot was a magic dog," Remus said. "And we didn't want to show you too much magic at once, it's hard to get used to..."
"I knew it! Padfoot can talk!"
"Not exactly," Sirius said. "Harry...you have to keep it a secret."
Harry nodded. Sirius wiped his mouth, stood up, and looked to Remus, who nodded.
"Don't be scared," he said.
Remus, who had seen the Change before, watched Harry's face as Sirius' body twisted, warping slowly into the shape of the big black dog who'd caught Harry from falling the first day.
Padfoot hung his head and looked up at Harry warily. Harry glanced at Remus.
"Sirius is Padfoot," Remus said, feeling that this was unnecessary, but doing it anyway. "And Padfoot is Sirius."
Harry looked at the dog again. Carefully, he picked up a sausage from his plate, and held it out. Padfoot took it, delicately, and swallowed it. Harry patted his head.
"My godfather's a dog," he said.
"Well, only once in a while."
"Was he a dog and you changed him into a human?" Harry asked.
"No."
"Is he a werewolf?"
Remus felt something tighten in his chest. "No," he managed. "He's an Animagus. He's a wizard who can turn into an animal."
"Oooh," Harry said. He patted Padfoot on the head. "You can go back now," he announced. A second later, Sirius was standing there, hands at his sides, looking expectant.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Harry," he said. Harry looked up at him.
"Good dog," he said. Sirius smiled warily. "I knew you were magic."
He hopped off his chair and went to the sink. "Pick me up?" he asked. Sirius lifted him and let him fill his glass again. "We need a stool," Harry mused.
"Harry, your godfather's a dog," Remus pointed out. Harry climbed back into his chair.
"I knew Padfoot was magic," he repeated, calmly. "Do you change into an animal?" he asked Remus, who choked on a piece of chicken and had to be thwacked on the back by Sirius.
"Remus isn't an Animagus," Sirius said, while Remus recovered from a close encounter of the poultry kind. "Listen, Harry, I've spoken with Molly Weasley -- she's Arthur's wife -- and she says she'd like to have you come to see her tomorrow."
"M'kay," Harry said, finishing his dinner. "Can I go read?"
Remus waved him off, and Harry ran into the living room. They could hear him flop onto the couch.
"I erm...reckon you'll be around again this evening?" Remus said, when he'd fully recovered. Sirius was pushing food around his plate.
"I'd like to stay. I can take the couch this time."
"I think Harry's happier when Padfoot's the one sharing the bed."
"Your couch is not fit for sleeping on," Sirius said sternly.
"Never stopped me before. Listen...what're you going to do? With the house on Privet Drive?"
"Well, reckon I could sell it...not that I want to move in if you think there's not room -- "
" -- no, it's not that at all -- "
" -- just, you know, there's no point to keeping the house, now that Harry's here," Sirius added.
"I mean, Harry's going to have my office and you and I could -- there's enough room in the bedroom for two beds..."
Sirius raised an eyebrow. "You sound like you've been thinking about this."
"Well, someone had to, didn't they?" Remus sipped his water. "Long as you don't mind sharing a room again."
"I suffered your snoring for seven years, I can probably get used to it again."
"My snoring!" Remus snorted. "What about your bloody sleepwalking?"
"That was ONCE, and I still say James hexed me."
"You can have a doggie basket," Remus said magnanimously. Sirius made a face. "Listen though...what about your things?"
"I'll sell the furniture, most of the stuff in the house isn't important anyhow."
"And..." Remus looked uncomfortable. "Well."
Sirius waited patiently.
"If Harry's here, you know...you can't be bringing women back here all the time," Remus blurted. "I mean it's bad enough when I show up to drop off a book and there's some unknown girl running about -- "
"It happens THREE TIMES and he never forgets -- "
"Well, imagine what Harry would think."
Sirius leaned back in his chair. "Fine. But in that case, you can't be bringing men home anymore either."
Remus blinked at him.
"I've known you for seventeen years, I'm not blind, you know," Sirius said with a grin. "You think Padfoot never noticed those 'rare-book collectors' hanging about?"
Remus was still staring.
"Pity of Merlin, Remus, I don't care," Sirius said finally. "It was just a joke."
"Oh," Remus said finally. "Well, I never do anyway."
"No wonder you're so anxious all the time."
"Not funny, Sirius."
"It is from this chair," Sirius grinned. Remus shook his head and smiled slightly.
"Pads and Harry can have the bed again tonight. You are going to get Harry his own bed and set up the rest while he's at school and I'm working, tomorrow."
"Sirius Black, Homemaker of the Year," Sirius answered, saluting.
"And for the love of God, if you bring that hideous painting in your living room to my flat, I will burn it," Remus added, as he set their plates in the sink. A brush on the counter leapt up and began to wash them automatically. They heard a snort of childish laughter from the living room, and Sirius rose.
"If you'll excuse me," he said, with a dignified look, "I have a godson to read to."
***
"Lunch?"
"Uh huh."
"Books? Quill? Sirius gave you some parchment, didn't he?"
"Uh huh."
"Got all the sweets Sirius kept slipping you?"
"You weren't s'posed to see that."
"I see everything, Harry."
"Everything?"
"Well. Almost everything. You're to be polite to Molly, she's your teacher now."
"Kay."
"And no fighting with the others."
"What if they don't like me?"
"Harry, they're like you. They're special. They're wizarding children, same as you. Of course they'll like you."
"But what if they don't?"
"Well...give them some of Sirius' sweets."
"Does that work?"
"Worked for Sirius when he was starting school. He gave your dad a fizzing whizzbee and they were friends for life."
"I got humbugs and a chocolate bar and some funny-lookin' jelly beans."
"You're armed and ready. You'll be fine. Go on now."
"Moony?"
"Mmm?"
"Are they gonna laugh?"
"No, Harry."
"Even if I have Frog in my bag?"
"I guarantee you, Harry, with a stuffed frog, you will be the envy of all the children."
***
Time passed, it seemed, at once quickly and slowly. They settled into a routine, hard to adjust to at first but, as with most routines, soon so familiar that they couldn't recall it being any other way. Remus and Sirius had their beds on opposite sides of what had been Remus' bedroom, with dressers between them, subtly dividing the living space; Harry had his room off the hallway, and sometimes Padfoot, if Harry was having a particularly anxious day, slept on the foot of Harry's bed. In the morning, Remus took Harry to Sandust and saw him off, via floo, to The Burrow; in the afternoon Harry returned, by which time Sirius (or Padfoot) was there to watch over him as he studied in the bookshop or played with the other children.
They never let him go very far, certainly not out of earshot, and Harry chafed, but he had been raised to be obedient and quiet. And besides, there were few places he could go that Padfoot couldn't follow.
He even saw Dudley once, shopping with his mother in the market, but he hid behind Padfoot and the big black dog growled so menacingly that several passers-by stopped to make sure Harry was all right.
Their lives had settled so quickly, and so surprisingly seamlessly, that Sirius was almost taken aback when Remus, bent over his meal, remarked that it would be the full moon in two days. Sirius hadn't noticed the gaunt, drawn look that Remus always got a few days beforehand; Harry didn't know anything was wrong. Normally it was simple -- Remus would ask Sirius to dinner, and Sirius would realise that it was the full moon, and for two days and the full moon night he would stay at the flat, as Padfoot, to keep Remus company. It wasn't perfect -- the wolf often got restless -- but nobody got hurt, and Remus survived with his sanity intact.
"Wossat mean?" Harry asked, around a mouthful of mashed potatoes. He was still fascinated with magic, though he saw enough of it by now. "You gonna do a spell at the full moon?"
Remus looked uncomfortable. "No, not exactly. This is grownups business, Harry."
Harry looked sullen, and stabbed his roast beef viciously.
"Perhaps we ought to talk about it later," Sirius said pointedly, and Remus nodded. "Harry, how're you getting on at The Burrow?"
"Ron showed me how to get rid of gnomes," Harry muttered. "And Ginny pulled on my hair."
"Girls do that sometimes," Sirius agreed. "Having fun?"
Harry shrugged. "Guess so."
Remus sat back a little, keeping to himself as Sirius quizzed Harry about school, about his studies, about what he was reading from the bookstore. It was Sirius' job to do that; Sirius recommended the books he read, watched over his studies, tucked him in at night.
Remus, meanwhile, was going to have to find somewhere to go for the full moon, lest he turn into a slavering monster and try to eat his best friend's godson.
He felt this was somehow vaguely unfair of the universe.
After dinner was done, and Harry'd washed and brushed his teeth and been put to bed to read, Sirius leaned in the doorway of the living room. Remus was working at his desk, checking the month's accounts for the bookshop.
"You should have told me sooner," he said quietly. Remus shook his head.
"Didn't think about it myself -- the whole Dursley affair put me off my schedule, having Harry here, all of it."
"We could send Harry to the Weasleys'."
"Not for two nights running -- you know how I get the night before the full moon, I might as well be a wolf anyway," Remus sighed. "I mean to say. What would they think? They're bound to ask questions." He put his head in his hands. "You ought to take Harry away. We can put wards on any other flat just as well as this one. Get your own place, you and him."
"Is that what you want?"
"Of course not. I want Harry here. Where I can watch him too. But what I want doesn't come into it. He's your godson, and you're not the one going feral every twenty-eight days."
Sirius considered this. "We couldn't ward another flat like this one. Not without your blood connection to James."
Remus let his head slide down onto the table, covering it with his hands. "Well, I've gone over my options. I was hoping you'd have some. I've just got the one."
"Sending Harry off?"
"No. But you've got keys and you know how the shop is run, you can look after Harry. I think I've got to go back to Hogsmeade."
Sirius flopped on the couch, confused. "What's in Hogsmeade?"
Remus lifted his head to look at him. Sirius' eyes widened.
"There is no way in hell you're going back to that pit, Moony," he said, urgently. "Not after all this time."
"It's the only safe way."
"You're not going back there!" Sirius insisted.
"Don't be ridiculous about it."
"I know what your transformations were like, I saw you afterwards," Sirius continued. "I didn't spend two years learning to be an Animagus just so you could go back to the Shrieking Shack and go through it all over again."
"Then come up with another option, Sirius, by all means." Remus spread his hands. "It's not like I want to go back to that. Merlin knows I don't."
Sirius could count the number of full moons that Remus had spent alone, after that first Animagus transformation, on one hand. Once when the tunnel had collapsed while they were still at school, and none of them but Remus could get to the Shack; once, after school was done, when Sirius had been in St. Mungo's with a vicious magical pneumonia; twice when he was traveling, in search of Peter, and couldn't make it back to Sirius and his flat in time. Four times in twelve years -- in over one hundred and fifty full moons.
"You can't think of any alternatives because there aren't any," Remus said calmly. "It's all right. Day after tomorrow I'll see Harry off to school and Apparate to Hogsmeade. I can take Dumbledore a peace offering, he's still furious with us...might even be a Quidditch game I could see."
"And then go lock yourself in a shack and try to rip your own skin off," Sirius growled.
"Better mine than Harry's," Remus replied evenly.
***
Harry didn't see why he couldn't go with Sirius to fetch Moony from wherever he'd gone. Moony'd been away for two days, and Harry missed him, which was odd, because Moony was quiet and never said much -- not like Sirius. Moony was like a dog himself, Harry decided; you didn't see him a whole lot when he was there, but when he wasn't you missed his presence.
Instead, he stayed late at Mr. and Mrs. Weasleys' house, until Sirius came to get him. It wasn't so bad; Fred and George taught him how to pick locks, and Ron and he shared an apple, and Ginny spilled paint on him, which was always fun, as he got to watch Mrs. Weasley clean it magically.
When Sirius unlocked the door and swung it open, Harry dropped his book bag and immediately ran into the kitchen to find Moony; when he wasn't there, he pushed past Sirius and ran to the bedroom.
Sirius' hands caught him before he could get all the way to Moony's bed to jump up on it. Harry got only a glimpse of Moony, curled shirtless on the counterpane, but it was enough. There were large scratches along his ribcage, vicious open welts of a sort Harry had never encountered before. Moony was shaking, arms clutched around his body. There were scores on his face, too, and what looked like bitemarks on his hands.
"What's wrong with Moony?" he demanded loudly, as Sirius carried him away from the bedroom. He squirmed in Sirius' grip. "What happened to him? You didn't bite him, did you?"
"Shh, you'll wake him," Sirius answered, setting Harry down in his own bedroom and closing the door. He crouched. Harry stomped his foot.
"Why's he hurt!" Harry shouted.
"Harry, it's a disease. There's nothing you can do by shouting. I didn't hurt Moony, all right?" Sirius said, his voice almost panicked. "It's okay. He's going to be fine. He'll be fine in the morning, you wait and see."
"He's all bitten and stuff!"
"It looks that way, I know, but I promise you, Harry, in the morning he'll be fine. Trust me, will you, kid?" Sirius pleaded. Harry scowled.
"Is he catching?" he asked, finally. Sirius shook his head.
"He's safe. He just got sick, that's all. Moony...he's going to get sick sometimes. He's not as strong as you and me."
Harry's eyes widened.
"So you just have to understand that sometimes you can't be with Moony, okay?"
Harry sat on his bed and crossed his legs, looking thoughtful. Sirius stayed in his crouch, waiting for a sign of acceptance.
"Does he want Frog?" Harry asked, picking up the plush frog from a mostly-empty toy chest and holding it out to Sirius.
***
"Does it hurt?"
"Only while it's...healing. It'll be fast. Usually doesn't...umm. Take more than a day."
"How much longer?"
"Another two, three hours. I think. Jesus Christ in stilettos..."
"You've been around Muggles too much, picking up their profanity like that."
"Ha bloody ha. Ow."
"Anything I can do?"
"Yes. Kill me."
"I told you it was a mistake."
"Oooh, or tell me what a fool I am, ta ever so, Pads."
"Sorry."
"Sirius..."
"What?"
"Harry saw, didn't he?"
"Just a glimpse. I told him it was a magic flu."
"I should have stayed in the Shack until I was healed fully. Shouldn't have let you Apparate me back. Next month. Next month."
"You can't do this, you're not thirteen anymore."
"I can do this. Argh."
"You'll scar."
"Sirius, go away and let me die in peace."
"I only came back to leave something off. Harry sent it."
"I'll bleed on it."
"We'll clean it. Take it."
"How stupid do I look?"
"Really stupid. You feel better?"
"...yes."
To the Next Part