The Forgotten Song

It was a blisteringly hot day, just as the rest of the summer had been. The flowers in the garden of number four Privet Drive had been steadily wilting, and the number of people seen in their gardens had been gradually decreasing, until all the houses could be seen with their doors shut and the curtains pulled tight, trying, Harry assumed, to preserve the cool air in a cave like environment.
Harry, however, was oblivious to the temperature. He sat with his arms folded upon the window sill, his chin resting on top. His startlingly green eyes stared unfocused out upon the street.
Next to him, upon his bedside table, lay an open photo album. It was the familiar photo of his late parents wedding. He knew that photo. He could picture it in his mind easily, he had stared at it that much. There was the unknown beauty with the maroon hair that fell in thick waves to her waist, smiling and with her arm around his mothers shoulders, her free hand holding a fluted glass filled with dark red liquid. Wine, he supposed. His mother was smiling, too. Beaming, in fact. Her red hair was loose and laced with white flowers, and her green eyes, the exact same green as his own, looked up at him. Her hand was clasped by another familiar face. His face, almost. The only difference being the hazel eyes and the absence of the lighting bolt shaped scar on Harry's own forehead. He was laughing with the handsome man next to him. They stood very close, and exchanged frequent glances, containing some private joke. It was the man whom Harry's mind now dwelled on almost every minute of the day. Sirius Black. Harry's godfather; the closest thing he'd ever had to a father. Or a brother. Sirius had been both, really. And now he was nothing. Gone. He had joined Harry's parents somewhere beyond his reach.
Sirius had died a month ago. He'd fallen through an arch in the Department of Mysteries, gone behind a veil. Harry still had no idea what that arch was, but wherever it led to, Sirius wasn't coming back in a hurry.
A loud screech broke the silence, and a snowy white owl flew in through the open window, landing on the sill beside him.
"SHUT THAT RUDDY BIRD UP!" a brash voice called from downstairs.
Harry ignored both his Uncle and his bird. Hedwig gave an annoyed hoot and pecked him with her beak. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, then, sighing, removed the envelope tied to her leg. He recognised the sloppy handwriting of his best friend immediately. He appreciated the fact that his friends kept in frequent contact with him, but there wasn't really any point. They couldn't tell him anything that he wanted to know - sure, the Ministry had finally accepted the fact that Voldemort was back, but there were still enemies about. The members and location of the Order of the Phoenix had to remain a secret. There were still Death Eaters about. Harry opened the seal and half heartedly read the letter.

Hi, Harry. Look, I know you must be going out of your mind with the Muggles, but you'll be out of there soon, alright? Dumbledore, and he says it's safe for you to leave, so some people will be arriving to bring you here soon. We aren't at the Burrow, we're here. In... um, well you know. So sit tight and we'll see you soon.
- Ron
PS. Fred and George are really raking it in. The shop's going great - Mum's absolutely livid. She tried blaming me, but I told her that it was your fault and now she wants to kill you. Isn't that great? She isn't angry with me at all! See you!

Harry had to fight a laugh as he read the note, and he would be glad to be away from this place. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had said barely anything to him all Summer. And Dudley hadn't even come near him. He'd made sure to keep at least ten metres in distance between them at all times. Harry wasn't complaining.
But to go to Grimmauld Place? Sirius' old house served as the Headquarters of the Order. Sirius had hated that house, and for good reason. His parents had been pure bloods. Not supporters of Voldemort, but in favour of him, which was just as bad. It was a dark, dank house, and the only people living in it were his mothers loud and screeching portrait, and the conniving Kreacher, the mental house elf who's main aspiration in like was to have his head mounted on the wall.
And now he was going back to it.
He decided not to say anything to his Uncle and Aunt. Why bother? They wouldn't care if he went. They'd be happy to be rid of him for another year. Harry grabbed a piece of paper, scribbled a quick note to Ron to tell him that he was ready, and attached it to Hedwig's leg, who gave an annoyed hoot at being sent out so soon after arrival. Harry watched her until she vanished in the dying light, then trudged off to have a shower.

"What do you think you're doing?" asked a mass of muscle occupying the hallway.
Harry continued toweling his hair, vaguely wondering why Dudley had decided to communicate with him for the first time since he'd gotten home. "I'm going to my room."
Dudley folded his massive arms and glared at him from under strands of dirty blonde hair. "So you can bring more freaks into the house?"
"What are you talking about, Diddykins?"
"I SAW A FREAK!" Dudley yelled at him, balling his fists.
"What, you finally looked in a mirror without it breaking?" Harry rolled his eyes. "Congratulations, Dud, get the hell out of my way."
"What are you gonna do, pull out that stick and zap me?" Dudley asked dangerously. "Mum and Dad are out and the guys are coming round. Can you zap all of us at once?"
"Yeah, Dud, I could. In a second. See, there's this little spell called 'Avada Kedavra,' and it's really effective in the way that it kills people in an instant. Or I could cast the Imperious curse and control you, or torture you with Cruciatus!" Harry was screaming at him now. A rush of anger was flooding his body, heating his veins. Dudley must have seen it, for he started retreating, glancing fearfully around him. "Just try me, Dud! I could do anything to you - anything I like! They cant put me in prison anymore, they don't have any guards! I could kill you right now and they wouldn't be able to do a thing, so just TRY ME!"
"That's enough, Harry," a voice cracked out like a whip. Dudley let out a whimper.
Harry turned to see Lupin, an ex-Professor of Hogwarts, a Werewolf, and Sirius' closest friend. His face remained quite youthful, and he was still quite thin, yet his brown curls had become almost completely grey. His amber eyes settled on Harry in disappointment.
"Leave him alone, Harry. Get your things. We're leaving."
"But-"
"Now, Harry!" His usually gentle voice was sharp.
Dudley continued to whimper, but was ignored by both Lupin and Harry. Harry felt suddenly weak. He wanted to curl up in bed with his photo album. He still hadn't cried. Not properly. Not one genuine tear since Sirius' death. Tears of anger, sure. But not the proper kind. He half heartedly tried to pack, until he was touched on the shoulder by Lupin.
"Let me," he muttered, then waved his wand. Everything Harry needed flew into the trunk, neatly folded. The photo album landed atop the pile, still open on the wedding photo. Lupin stared at it for a moment, gently trailing his finger over the beautiful woman, who blew a kiss at him, over his mother who waved and his father who beamed and gave him the thumbs up. His finger then came to Sirius, who did something that Harry had never before seen the photo do.
"Hey, Moony, join the party!" Lupin closed his eyes, and Harry saw his jaw tense. He closed the album quickly, closing the trunk and buckling it. Harry watched him silently. The photo had never spoken to him. Not once. Jealously flared in him for a moment, but then it was gone.
"Let's go," Lupin said softly. Harry nodded, and held out his hand.
"Accio Firebolt."
His broom flew into his hand, and then he and Lupin, who had tied Harry's trunk to his own broomstick, kicked away from the window and sped through the night air, headed for London.

"We've done the place up a little," Lupin explained to him as they walked along Grimmauld Place. They had landed at the end of the street, so as to avoid being spotted. "New paint job. Almost looks like a different house, except that Kreacher still creeps around and there were two wall hangings we couldn't get rid of."
"Mrs Black and..." Harry guessed.
"The family tree. We tried hard to get it down, but it wouldn't budge, so we just covered it up."
"With what?" Harry asked curiously.
"A portrait," Lupin shrugged. "A few members of the original Order."
"Which members?" he had a fair idea of who they would be, but he asked anyway.
Lupin cracked a faintly embarrassed smile. "You'll see."
"You're in it, aren't you?" Harry grinned.
"Yes," he admitted shame facedly.
They stopped outside the gap between number eleven and number thirteen.
"Remember that parchment we showed you last year?" Lupin asked.
"Yeah, I think so," Harry thought back, vaguely remembering that Moody had handed him some piece of paper with an address on it.
"Good. Think about that."
Harry screwed up his eyes and thought hard. The... Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is... no, can... can be found at number twelve Grimmauld Place.
Numbers thirteen and eleven were suddenly pushed to either side as a new house popped up. A wooden door grew out of the wall and Harry took the knob and turned it.
He couldn't believe his eyes. Gone was the nasty coat holder, the collection of elf heads and the gruesome tapestries. The previously darkly coloured walls had been replaced with rich reds, trimmed with gold, and a large portrait of a flaming Phoenix decorated the front hall.
"You should have heard Mrs Black," Lupin said wryly. "I think she used every swear word in every language under the sun when she saw the new colour scheme. And Kreacher's gone even madder."
"Lupin? Lupin is that you?" Harry heard a familiar voice and broke into a smile. "Oh, Professor Lupin, is he... oh, Harry!" a pretty, bushy haired girl had burst into the hall. Hermione Granger, Harry's other best friend, beamed with delight and immediately enfolded him into a hug. "Oh, Harry, we're so sorry that you couldn't come sooner, but Dumbledore said that you had to stay there for a while, but he wouldn't tell us why, and... oh, it's so good to see you!"
Harry laughed and patted her on the back a few times, finding that he was glad to see her too. Gladder than he could say. At the end of the last school year he'd realised how much his friends really meant to him. At the Dursley's it had been all too easy to forget that. Yet there was still something missing. Something important.
"Harry? S'that you?"
"Ron!" Harry grinned, firmly clasping his best friends hand as Hermione let him go. Ron was tall and lanky, with the red hair and freckles that marked him as a Weasley.
"Mate, you have to see this place," Ron enthused, never one for big emotional displays. "It's so different, and... oh, hey Lupin. Oh, that reminds me, there's this great portrait in the living room, where that scungy family tree thing was, and..."
"Ron, I think Harry want's to get settled in before he starts looking around," Hermione folded her arms.
"No, I can do that later. I want to see this picture."
Lupin had untied Harry's trunk and leaned both their brooms against the wall. "It's alright, I'll put it up there."
"Aren't you coming with us?" Ron asked. "You know more about this place than I do."
Lupin shook his head. "I have to go join the meeting anyway. Severus was giving a report that I don't really want to miss. How long have they been in there?"
"Half an hour," Hermione reported.
Lupin nodded his head in thanks.
"I wondered why nobody else was around," Harry mused. "Snape still around, then?"
"He comes and goes," Ron said darkly. "Still have no idea what he's up to. Getting information for You-Know-Who, most likel..."
"Ron!" Hermione snapped. "How many times do I have to tell you that Professor Snape isn't a traitor!"
Harry shook his head slightly. The endless bickering was one thing he could do without. He wandered away from them, heading for the living room. It too was a deep red. The wooden floor had been polished to a sheen, and rugs had been spread on the floor. All in all, it looked quite nice and homely.
"Going gog-eyed over the furniture," a male voice laughed. "Now that is the mark of an interesting person."
"Maybe he's just the sort of person who likes furniture," another man suggested.
Harry turned and gasped. In place of the ugly Black family Tree was a huge portrait, occupied by several life sized figures. There were people in the background, lounging around under a tree, and Harry was startled to discover that the castle behind them was in fact Hogwarts. The two men at the forefront of the portrait stood in front of a sliver of water, which Harry supposed was the lake.
It was the two men, however, that made him gasp.
"Wow, James, this kid looks just like you," one of the men raised his familiar eyebrows.
"Sirius," Harry breathed. "Dad."
"Dad?" James Potter laughed. "I'm seventeen, I don't have children."
"Harry?" Ron called, striding up to join him, followed by Hermione. "You really could have waited for us."
"Hey, Ron," Sirius hailed him. "Who is this kid?"
"Yeah, and why does he look like me? And call me Dad?" James interrupted.
"An intelligent one, your father," Hermione whispered to him. "Dumbledore found this and donated it to the Order. It was painted by Wormtail, so he isn't in it, thankfully. They think they're real people. Lupin understood it immediately, of course, and so did Lily I think, but the rest of them just think that we're from the future."
Harry frowned and studied the portrait while Ron tried to explain to James that Harry was his future son.
"Really? No way!" James looked shell-shocked. "I thought the other Moony was lying about that!"
"The other Moony?" Harry asked.
Sirius flashed a grin and turned. "Hey! Moony! Whitey! We found Prongs' son!"
"Shouldn't you call Lily as well?" Hermione asked. "After all, she's his mother."
James stared at her for a moment. "Lily's his mother?"
"Well you do get married," she told him, exasperated.
"I thought you were lying about that, too!" He turned around as well. "Hey, Lily! He's your kid as well!"
"Quick on the uptake," Ron joked looking at Harry, then lost his grin. Harry was white as a sheet, staring at the group who had just assembled. Five of them. Sirius, Lupin, James, Lily, and the woman from the wedding photo. His family, his friends. All of them dead, except for Lupin. And maybe the other woman. He wasn't sure about her. In fact, he'd never heard her mentioned before.
"Harry?" he looked at Lily, who had tremblingly said his name. "You... you're our son?"
"Yeah," he croaked. "Yeah, I am."
"He's got your eyes, Lil," the woman said, smiling at him. "Real little cutie. How old are you?"
"He's sixteen," Hermione spoke up. "Well, tomorrow, at any rate."
Harry raised his eyebrows. He'd completely forgotten.
"Wait a minute," James interrupted. "If all you guys came back here from the future, then where are we? I mean, why's Lupin the only one?"
Lupin and Lily looked at each other within the portrait and didn't say anything.
"Yeah, 'cos I would definitely come back," Sirius laughed. "Stir up some trouble, y'know?"
Lily sighed. "Guys, go back to the tree for a while, okay?"
"Why?" James frowned.
"Just go," she pushed him towards the tree. "I'll be there in a second. Remus, maybe you should start telling them."
Lupin nodded, his red prefect badge glinting in the light. Harry noticed that the other woman had a badge as well.
Lily looked at Harry. "Lupin... the other Lupin... tells me that we're dead. Me, James and Sirius. And we're a picture. I see the ones around Hogwarts, and it's kind of hard to believe that I'm one as well. But what I wanted to know is... are you happy?"
Harry swallowed hard. "Yeah. I'm happy. Maybe not so much since Sirius... died... but, I'm okay..."
Lily tilted her head and smiled sadly. "You were close to him. It must be hard to see us all like this. Have you... have you had a happy life? Since we died, were you taken care of properly?"
"Yes," Harry said before Hermione could jump in. "I've been living with... with Mrs Figg. She's a Squib, but she's taken good care of me."
Lily smiled. "Oh good. I was afraid you'd be sent to my sister. She's such an awful cow. Absolutely hates James."
Harry nodded, feeling a large lump growing in his throat.
"Anyway, I better go help Remus tell this lot what's going on. I always suspected. Honestly, this day has seemed to go on forever, and now I know why. I expect I'll see you later... son."
Harry nodded and smiled weakly as she turned and joined the group in the distance. Ron put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and Hermione silently took his hand. As they retreated back to the hallway, Harry thought he heard a faint "No way!"

Harry didn't enter the living room for the rest of the day, and, as the meeting finished up and he was greeted by members, he noticed that Lupin avoided the room as well.
"Who is she?" Harry asked at dinner that night. Everybody else was engaged in conversation, yet Lupin had remained silent.
"Who is who?" he asked, smiling at him.
"The woman. At my parents wedding, and in that picture."
"You mean Kera? She was Lily's best friend, bridesmaid at her wedding. Dated Sirius for a while, then left him for somebody else. They always stayed close friends, though."
"Who'd she leave him for?" Harry asked, feeling a flash of annoyance that Sirius could be so easily jipped.
"Me," Lupin blushed slightly, and Harry's annoyance melted away.
"What happened to her?" he asked gently.
"What happened?" Lupin frowned. "Nothing. She's an Auror, still in the Order. She's in Rome at the moment doing some business, but she'll be back soon."
"Oh," Harry was taken aback. "And you're still..."
"We're still together," Lupin nodded.
"Well, how come you've never mentioned her? Or anybody else?"
"Kera prefers not to be mentioned. It's easier for her to do her thing, that way. And in regards to me, well, when have I ever said much about my private life, anyway?"
Harry smiled and conceded that Lupin wasn't really one for talking about himself. "But what exactly is 'her thing?'"
Lupin smiled at him. "Pass the potatoes, please?"

"We haven't been doing much here," Ron shrugged. "We only got here last week anyway. S'been dead boring. Hermione's been trying to get me to read up on the upcoming work, y'know? And we haven't heard a thing about You-Know-Who. Sort of gone underground. Well, except that they found one guy in Ireland. All curled up and dead - probably of Cruciatus. All the Aurors flocked over there, but they didn't find anything. Oh, and hey, I've been practising my Keeping back at the Burrow. I'm getting kind of good! And Ginny was practising too. She want's to try out for Chaser. Come to think of it, we're going to need fair few new players. Two beaters and three chasers. The last beaters resigned, thankfully, cos one got permanent damage when he whacked himself in the head, and..."
"Ron," Harry interrupted the torrent of words. "Have you seen my wand?"
"Um... no. Where'd you last have it?"
"I think I was playing with it when you and Hermione were arguing, so..."
"Well, check in the hall, then," Ron shrugged.
"Yeah, I think I will." He stood up and shuffled to the door.
"Want me to come with you, mate?"
"Nah, I'll be okay."
The house was dark as Harry crept down the stairs. He was careful to be silent while moving past Mrs Black's curtained portrait, and started feeling around on the floor in the hall. He'd just placed his hand on it when he heard voices in the living room. He crept up and poked his head around the door frame.
Lupin was sitting there, all alone, in front of the portrait. The picture Lupin, Lily and Kera were nowhere to be seen, but Sirius and James sat in the foreground of the picture. To Harry's surprise, it was Lupin doing all the talking.
"...And so we set up an invisible string across the hall, and he was coming along the hall towards it, but then he drops his wand and stops to pick it up. In the meantime, Lily and Kera come around the corner, and both of them trip over it, get caught in the invisible spider webs and get the ink dropped all over them!" James and Sirius hooted with laughter.
"You're kidding me!" Sirius laughed while James rolled around. "We didn't just let Snivellus get away, did we?"
"Well, we had to. Kera jumped up straight away, and somehow summoned the three of us to her. I honestly think she Accio'd us to her. Anyway, she and Lily absolutely let rip and started yelling at us, then they both conjured up another lot of ink and dumped it over us. We were all blue for a week."
"How long did that land us detention for?" James demanded.
"A week. We had to refill all of the schools ink wells."
The three of them broke into more laughter, and Harry found himself smiling.
The laughter died down, and a silence fell.
"Where was Peter in all of that, then?" Sirius asked finally.
"He was on lookout," Lupin said soberly. "Ran off when Professor Spark came along."
"And where's he now?" James asked. "We're both... well, me and Sirius are dead. And... and Lily. And you're there. And Kera's in Rome. So where's Peter?"
Lupin fell silent.
"C'mon, Moony, where is he?" Sirius demanded. "He isn't dead, is he? Little Wormtail... you'd tell us if he died?"
"He isn't dead," Harry found himself saying. Lupin, James and Sirius all looked over at him. "You nearly killed him. I wish you had."
"No way did I nearly kill him," Sirius protested. "He was an annoying little berk at times, thick as a plank, but I wouldn't do that!"
"I was there, Sirius," Lupin nodded. "You had good reason. Harry was the only reason you didn't. He asked you not to."
"But what did he do?" Sirius asked hoarsely. "What was the reason? I don't just go around killing my friends, you know..."
"He was Dad's secret keeper," Harry said. "You were originally, but you said that Voldemort would instantly think of you and try to torture it out of you, so you made Dad change it to Wormtongue. He told Voldemort where Dad was, and Voldemort came and killed my Mum and Dad. You were the only person who knew he was secret keeper, so you knew what he'd done, but everyone thought it was you. You chased him down and tried to kill him, but he knew you were coming. Fixed it so that it looked like you sent a blast that killed him and the other Muggles around him. Then he went rat and escaped, while you were thrown in Azkaban." It was easier for Harry when he said it fast. His throat didn't constrict, his eyes didn't water.
"Peter did that?" James asked slowly. "He... did... that..."
"He's got a silver arm and he's working for Voldemort," Harry said flatly. "Maybe you should have learned to pick your friends better."
"Harry," Lupin muttered. "Don't."
Harry didn't look at the painting, nor did he look at Lupin. He turned on his heel and retreated into the hallway, sitting himself down on the bottom step and lowering his head to his knees. A few minutes later, he heard footsteps. He looked up to see Lupin kneeling in front of him, his cheeks wet with tears. Harry felt a lump grow in his throat, and he felt tears welling up in his eyes. As his green eyes locked with Lupin's golden ones, the tears spilled, and they grabbed each other in a rough embrace, crying on each others shoulders

Summer at Grimmauld Place, while twenty times better than Summer at the Dursleys, was not excessively interesting. Members of the order came and went, and Harry was able to catch up with friends like Tonks, the Metamorphmagus with lime green hair, Kingsley Shacklebolt, a tall black Auror, and Mundungus Fletcher, a shady wizard who dallied in the MBM (The Magical Black Market.) And despite being able to see Sirius, Lily and James, if only their seventeen year old semblances, he would be happy to go back to school.
His birthday, while pleasant, was by no means an earth shattering event. They had a quiet celebration, just himself, Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Molly, Arthur, Lupin and Mad Eye Moody. He was, on a whole, happy with his presents. Hermione had given him an automatic correcting quill ('To help with those Spelling Errors'), Ron and Ginny had given him a brand new wizards chess set ('I flog you so much, the old one's are pretty close to death, mate'), Fred and George had sent him a complete set of Skiving Snackboxes ('Sixth year... you'll need it'), and Lupin had given him a silver pocket watch, with the words 'To my Son, Always be the best you can be,' engraved on the back ('Your fathers. He would have wanted you to have it'), and Sirius and the others in the painting had chorused him with a Happy Birthday (apart from Lupin, who hid shamefacedly behind James).
However, the day was soon gone, and the monotony again set in.
"Who do you think our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher will be?" Hermione wondered at breakfast the morning they were due to visit Diagon Alley.
"Better not be somebody like Umbridge," Ron grumbled.
"I don't think anybody could be worse than Umbridge," Harry shuddered at the memory of that toad like woman. The words 'I must not tell lies' on the back of his left hand were still legible from the detentions she had given him. Like the lightning bolt on his forehead, they were another unpleasant scar he would sooner be rid of.
"Yeah, true," Ron conceded. "And Dumbledore would be able to find somebody decent, anyway, right?"
"Well, the only reason we had Umbridge was because Dumbledore couldn't find anybody," Hermione said slowly. "And school starts in a week."
"What do the booklists say we need?" Harry asked. "That usually says what we'll be doing."
"Yeah, if they're by Lockhart we know that he's gained his memory, or that it's a bird," Ron joked.
"Very funny," Hermione muttered into her cereal, blushing slightly.
Harry rummaged around in a pile of papers, books and clothes on the end of the table. "Hold on... okay, I've got it. Standard book of Spells, Grade Six... Dark Creatures... Cursed Items and how to Identify Them... A Hundred and One Jinxes and their Counter Spells. Plus a few other books for Potions and Transfiguration and stuff."
"Well that doesn't sound too bad," Hermione said brightly.
"Sounds like we'll be doing a lot of bookwork," Ron said gloomily. "Three books."
"Bookwork in DADA?" Lupin asked from the kitchen counter. "I wouldn't count on it."
"Why, what do you know?" Harry asked immediately.
"Only that this teacher is actually quite competent," he said mildly, chopping up a banana and putting it in his cereal.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Real gold mine of information, you are."
Lupin raised his eyebrows and began eating his breakfast.
"Ronald Weasley, are you ready yet?" the portly Molly Weasley asked, bounding through the door. "We are going in exactly ten minutes, and if you're not ready by then, I will..."
"Mum, it's okay," Ron cut her off. "I'm almost finished."
Molly glowered at him for a moment, as if searching for something to pick at.
"GINNY WEASLEY!" She changed tack and charged into the hall. "ARE YOU OUT OF BED YET?"
"DIRTY MUDBLOODS AND TRAITORS, BESMIRCHING MY HOUSE AND FOULING IT WITH YOUR GOODWILL AND VILENESS!"
"Oh no," Lupin dropped his spoon and ran to Mrs Blacks portrait.
"Shut up, you old bag!" they heard Sirius call from the living room.

Note: The new and Improved version. Notice, we now have paragraphs. Yaaay.
xxx Ceiny