That's My Boy

Harry trudged down Privet Drive as he heard the bus roar away behind him. He walked slowly, careful not to step on any cracks, and with his gaze turned downward. Today was the day he had to go to Mr. Lupin's house. He would never get to be alone in the Dursleys house ever again. Probably, Mr. Lupin would make him do yard work or wash the dishes, or something, but Harry was sure he wouldn't be doing anything he'd enjoy.

He'd overheard Mr. Lupin and Aunt Petunia talking the other night about what a bad child he was, and how he needed discipline. Harry supposed they were right; why else would his aunt and uncle get so mad at him all the time?

Harry looked up as he walked past number 4. He gazed almost longingly at it and sighed. Only three more houses to go, he thought. He immediately slowed his pace even more as the house in question loomed on the horizon.

Meanwhile, Remus was inside fiddling with a strange gargling thing that seemed to be connected to the bottom of the sink. "What in hell is this thing?" he muttered angrily to himself, once again flipping a switch on the wall that seemed to activate a fierce growling from inside the sink. "Must be alive...maybe a small goblin, or something..." he mused. Although he liked to consider himself humane, he couldn't have a goblin down his sink, especially in a Muggle neighborhood, so he grabbed a fork and stabbed it into the drain. The whatever-it-was was fierce, and strong, and almost felt like it had metal teeth. Finally, after some fighting, Remus took the fork out and stared at the bent angles it now sported. He was pulled away from this interesting quandary when the doorbell rang.

He opened the door to find Harry looking back up at him with a tattered book bag hanging over his right shoulder. Remus looked at his watch and smiled. "Goodness, can it be the afternoon already? Time flies, doesn't it? Come in, Harry!" he said cheerfully, waving the small boy inside.

"Thank you," Harry muttered, slowly entering the house. He took a quick glance around; Mr. Lupin's house was nothing like his. In Harry's house everything had to be exactly where it was supposed to be, and if a speck of dirt was found Aunt Petunia would fly into a sanitizing frenzy that rivaled that of any domestic housewife whose life's work was reflected in the appearance of her home. By the looks of his house, Mr. Lupin didn't much care for cutesy knickknacks on the mantel or doilies on the armchairs. Where there would have been stiff armchairs in Harry's house were overstuffed chairs and couches that made Harry sleepy just to look at. The fireplace crackled invitingly, almost beckoning Harry with its dancing flames. A large bookshelf stocked to the top with ancient looking books donned one corner while a leather easy chair crowned the other. A huge tapestry rug completed the room, a proud maroon color, bringing the accents of the room together.

"Well! Would you like a snack, Harry?" Remus said, interrupting Harry from his domestic musings and already walking towards the kitchen.

Harry started; he hadn't been asked if he wanted a snack in a long time. In fact, the last time had been when Aunt Petunia had twelve pounds of leftover cheddar from Dudley's birthday party that had nearly gone off but which she felt too guilty to actually throw away. Ahh, the power of cheese. "Ok," he said, a bit brighter as he followed Remus into the large kitchen.

"I must tell you, I don't know very much about children's eating habits. Just pick whatever you want out of the fridge," Remus said indifferently. Harry stared up at him in disbelief.

"Really? Anything?"

"Anything at all."

Harry, whose stomach got the better of him, flew to the fridge and opened it. Towers of food gleamed down on him as the light from inside lit up Harry's face. His eyes landed hungrily on the pancake mix, but he knew he couldn't ask Mr. Lupin to make pancakes so he kept searching. Mr. Lupin had an odd assortment of food in his fridge, almost like he didn't really know what to get so he had gotten one of everything. Unbeknownst to Harry, this was quite the case, seeing as how Remus had been overwhelmed by the choices and knowing he could get anything he wanted. He had gotten everything from olives to sardines, from frozen pizza to frozen gravy, from kumquats to kiwis.

Harry's eyes kept falling on the pancake mix again and again. Oh, how he loved pancakes! He often thought he could eat them for every meal of the day, every day, for the rest of his life and still not be tired of them. But still, he certainly wasn't going to be rude, and especially not on his first day with Mr. Lupin. He licked his lips as he stared longingly at the picture of the fluffy golden pancakes on the box.

"I've seen you come back to those pancakes a few times, Harry," Remus said. "Do you want some?"

Harry, who wanted more than anything at the moment to say yes, said, "Oh, no, sir. I couldn't ask you to make those just for me--"

"Oh, come on, it'll be fun!" Remus said, reaching over and taking the box out of the fridge. "I've never made pancakes before." Remus quickly read the back of the box and got all the necessary ingredients out of the fridge. Harry helped by getting a flat pan out and turning the stove on. Remus handed him an apron and put one on himself, and the two proceeded to mix up the batter.

"You act like a pro in the kitchen, Harry," Remus smiled. "I hear from your aunt that you're quite the chef."

Harry smiled sheepishly. "I just...I just do what she tells me to do," he said quietly.

"Oh, come now. Why do you think your aunt lets you cook with her instead of your cousin? You're the better cook, of course," Remus said. Harry, who was normally very reserved and shy around strangers, broke into a brilliant grin that made Remus smile. Both knew Dudley didn't have to cook because his mother prized him too much, but for Harry, it was nice to think that maybe he could do something right after all. The smile didn't last long, however, and Harry's usual somber expression returned momentarily.

While Harry continued to mix the batter, Remus set the table. Harry was much different that he had been expecting. For one, Remus had figured Harry would immediately become the spitting image of his father once out of the Dursley atmosphere, but this didn't seem to be the case. Remus was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of sadness; this little boy standing in his kitchen was the last physical remnant of his two late best friends. Even as an infant Harry was a completely different person; Remus remembered how Harry tugged at his hair playfully on his first visit to James and Lily's house after Harry had been born. As the months passed Harry quickly turned into a little ball of energy who always seemed to have a smile for Remus (or a little vomit, or both). He had never seen two prouder parents than James and Lily, whose doting on Harry bordered on insanity at times ("James, don't you think Harry's too young for a broomstick?" "Nonsense, the kid's a natural."). Sighing inwardly, Remus realized that the Harry Potter standing in front of him wasn't the same Harry Potter he'd last seen nearly eight years ago.

"Mr. Lupin? I think its ready. Its not lumpy anymore," Harry said, tearing Remus from his thoughts.

"All right."

Remus helped Harry pour five pools of batter onto the pan and unintentionally showed him the wrong way to flip a pancake, by flipping it high into the air and watching it stick to the ceiling. But, by the time the pancakes were a golden brown, Harry had gotten so he could flip them into the air and have them land back in the pan. Remus, proud but envious, served Harry three of the surviving pancakes and kept one for himself.

Harry looked up at him worriedly. "We can split them, Mr. Lupin, if you want."

Remus shook his head. "Of course not. You're the guest. Plus, you're skin and bones. And call me Remus. 'Mr. Lupin' makes me sound like a teacher," he said, shuddering inwardly at the thought.

Harry grinned and dug in gratefully to the precious mounds of the fluffy cakes in front of him. He thought they had never tasted so good.

"Thanks, Mr. Lup--Remus," he said with his mouth full.

"I have to admit," Remus said, with his mouth also full, "These things aren't bad. They have some potential." Harry finished his three before Remus was finished with his one. Remus looked up at him in surprise. "You were hungry, hm?"

Harry blushed. "Yes, sir."

"Well Harry, what do you usually do in the afternoons?" Remus said, sitting back in his seat.

"I...um...well...usually I do chores, or homework..."

"And what if you didn't have to do either?"

Harry blinked. "I...I don't know...I don't think that's ever happened..."

"Let's try this, then. What do you like best in the whole world?"

Harry closed his eyes shut tight in concentration. He liked chocolate sundaes a lot. He also liked swing rides, and sunny days, but really, he thought to himself, the thing he liked best were stories. He couldn't read very fast, and wasn't allowed to use the library, so he couldn't read them himself. But sometimes the teacher at school would read them a book, or tell them a story, and that was always Harry's favorite part of the day. He remembered when he was younger, sometimes he could hear Aunt Petunia telling Dudley a story before bedtime, and Harry would always strain his ears to be able to hear it too. "Well..." he started reluctantly. "It sounds...it sounds kinda babyish..."

"What is it?"

"I like...I like stories," Harry said so quietly Remus almost didn't hear him.

"Stories?"

"Not the little kid stories!" Harry said defensively. "I don't like Cinderella or Three Little Bears. I'm not a little kid," he said.

"Of course not," Remus replied agreeably, trying not to smile. "Men like us have more mature tastes."

"Yeah," Harry said firmly, nodding sharply. "More matcher tastes."

"Hm..." Remus mused, standing up and beginning to pace in the kitchen. "I bet I could come up with a good story..." Really, he was no good with stories; the only funny stories he knew were the true memories of adventures with the Marauders. Remus stopped; maybe this was his golden opportunity to introduce Harry to the memory of his father. Of course, he wouldn't tell Harry the truth just yet. No, he could disguise the truth in the form of a story for Harry. He wouldn't even have to use their real names; their nicknames would do just fine for the time being! He snapped his fingers. "Got one!"

Harry said nothing, but looked up at him eagerly.

"Once upon a time, there were four boys who went to a very special school," Remus started. "They were all best friends and loved adventure in any form."

"What were their names?" Harry cried.

"Their names? Moony...Padfoot...Wormtail...and Prongs," Remus said, over pronouncing each name as if to remind himself of something long, long ago.

"Those are funny names!"

"Well, these were no ordinary boys, Harry. They called themselves the Marauders and thought they were very clever." He searched through his memory, trying to come up with a story that would impress a nine year old. Remus smiled as he thought of something and looked down at Harry. "Do you want to hear about the time they found hidden treasure?"

"Yeah, yeah!" Harry said excitedly, hopping from foot to foot.

"Well all right. There was an ancient myth in this school of theirs, one about hidden treasure that was lost over six hundred years ago. No one had ever been able to find it..."

"Ow!" he cried, putting both hands over his head. "I think Moony's right, Prongs, we hit another dead end."

"Nonsense," James said in an impatient voice. "This has got to be it. I just know it."

"I highly doubt it," Sirius said in a droll voice, pointing apathetically at the solid rock wall just ahead. "Face it, this treasure just doesn't exist. Its an old Hogwarts myth."

"There is no such thing as an old myth at Hogwarts, you know that," James said, scratching his head. "Everything is based on something, we just don't always know what."

"So who cares about a bunch of hidden treasure, anyway?" Peter said, sitting down and clutching his stomach. "Its cold in here, and I'm hungry."

"Skipping dinner certainly wouldn't kill you, Wormtail," Sirius said with an arched eyebrow. "We've searched every nook and cranny of Hogwarts. We've been all over this castle."

"And if it did exist, why wouldn't the Marauder's Map be showing it?" Remus asked in a confused tone, consulting the Map for what seemed like the hundredth time since they began searching for the treasure, weeks ago.

"It doesn't show it because it doesn't exist," Sirius said, looking straight at James. "All we're doing is risking our necks. If we get caught again, I just know I'm going to have to clean out the boys lavatories again. I don't know about anyone else, but I refuse to spend another Saturday night cleaning urinals."

Remus nodded. "James is the only one who seems convinced of this so-called 'treasure'."

James couldn't help but smile at the look on his best friends' faces. "Sorry, everyone. Its not that I want the treasure so much, it just bugs me that we can't find it, that's all. We're the Marauders, we can do anything!"

"Except find hidden treasure," Remus added darkly. "We can crawl around in hidden caves all day and all night, but face it, there is no treasure. We would have found it by now."

"Agreed," Sirius said, stooping low and making his way out of the dark cave. Remus and Peter followed, leaving James hunched over in the dark without a light.

"You guys! Get back here, maybe there's something behind this wall! Come on, where's your sense of adventure? Guys? Guys!"

Sirius emerged from the hidden tunnel first, cautious that no one was watching them. Remus was next, and Peter was last, coughing from the dust in the tunnel.

"Well that's that," Sirius said, dusting his hands off. "There is no treasure. Case closed."

"Too bad, really," Remus said in a melancholy voice. "I would have liked to retire at age 17."

Just then, James emerged from the tunnel covered in dust and with a dirty look on his face. "Of all the nights not to have my wand with me..." he muttered to himself as he dusted his cloak off.

"Well," Sirius started in a smug voice, "What do you think of your treasure now, Prongs? Still going to hunt for it?"

"Look, its out there somewhere," James said. "Just not where we thought it'd be. It could anywhere, you know. Anywhere! And I'm going to find it."

"Famous last words," Remus snickered to Sirius.

"I will!" James said defiantly, clenching his fists to his sides. "Laugh all you want, call it not real, but how do we know until we've really looked?"

Peter pointed to the dust covering his cloaks. "And what do you think we were doing just now?"

"The castle isn't the only place it could be!" James cried, very frustrated by this point. "It could be outside, or...or in the lake, or the forest..."

"Come on boys, let's go," Sirius said wearily to Remus and Peter. "Good luck with your little treasure hunt, Prongs."

Sirius, Peter and Remus began to wander off towards the Gryffindor Tower as James watched them go.

"I thought we were the Marauders!" he called after them in a hurt voice. "I thought we did everything together, whether it was impossible or not!"

"Goodnight, James," Sirius called back in an oddly stern voice. Sirius only called James by his real name when he was really upset or angry, and it always took James by surprise to hear his own name coming out of Sirius' mouth.

James sighed and stood alone in the vast hallway for close to a minute before moving a muscle. He had been so sure this time that they were going to find it. He seemed to be the only one who believed that the old legend of the Hogwarts treasure might be true. They had spend the last two weeks searching the castle from top to bottom with no luck. Tonight, after being let down again, it was too much for James and he decided to get some fresh air.

Though he technically wasn't supposed to be wandering around the grounds at night, he often went and sat by the lake whenever he was feeling upset or sad. He had come here before when he was feeling depressed, angry or miserable, but he had never come feeling like he didn't have any friends.

James sat down and put his chin in his hands. "Stupid treasure," he muttered to himself. "No matter how many gold pieces or diamonds are in there, they're not worth the price of a friendship..."

Suddenly, James heard a painful wail coming somewhere from deep in the forest. He instinctively shot up and looked around, searching for the source, but not seeing anything. Another painful cry rose up, and before James could think better of it, he was off and running into the Forbidden Forest to help whatever was in trouble.

Meanwhile, up in the Gryffindor Tower, Sirius sat in a comfortable chair near the fire, staring evenly at the flames. Remus was nearby, doing more or less the same thing. Sirius sighed heavily, breaking Remus from his daze.

"What is it?" he asked softly.

"I shouldn't have been so short with Prongs," Sirius said in a small voice. "That treasure means so damn much to him...and once he sets his mind on doing something, he's determined to do it." He sighed again. "We've got to go find him."

Remus nodded and Sirius led the way down the tower. "Where do you suppose he'd be?" Remus asked as they walked down the stairs.

"The lake, probably. Where he always goes when he's upset."

As Remus and Sirius were on their way to the lake, James was fighting his way through bramble and thorns, still following the haunting voice calling for help. He knew this was a stupid idea, but what did he have to lose now anyway? Who would miss him?

With this thought in mind, he fought harder and eventually reached a clearing with hundreds of thick clinging vines hanging down to the ground and a dirty pond in the middle. James immediately saw who was in trouble; it was a centaur, drowning in the pond, caught in the vines with no way to untangle himself to get to safety. The vines encircled him, making it impossible to escape their deadly cling. The centaur was just barely able to keep his head above the surface, and was using all of his energy in calling for help.

"HELP! HELP!" he called mournfully.

"Its ok! I'm going to get you out!" James shouted back, grabbing the nearest vine and throwing it out to the drowning animal. "Hold on to this, and I'll pull you to safety!" The centaur did, and James began to pull with all his might. The centaur was panicking, and pulling the vine more and more into the water, and James, still with a death grip on the vine, was trying to pull him out. He saw only too late how close he was to the pond himself, and before he knew it, he was entangled in the vines and wet with the water that surrounded him.

"I thought you were going to save me!" the centaur wailed.

"I thought I was too, until you pulled me in here!" James growled, trying to grab hold of a vine so he could hoist himself out. "In case you're ever drowning in a pond of hanging vines again, and someone has the idiocy to want to save you, just hold on to the vine, and your rescuer will do the pulling," he snarled, losing ground fast and beginning to slip below the surface. "HEEEEELLLP!!!" he cried in a last desperate attempt for assistance before losing his grip.

Lucky for him, Remus and Sirius had recognized his voice and were bolting through the forest at top speed. "Prongs! Hold on!" Sirius shouted as loud as he could.

"Sirius! Over here!" Remus cried as he reached the clearing where the centaur and James were currently drowning. Remus grabbed a vine and threw it to James, who managed to only grasp the end of it. He was fast losing strength and didn't know how much longer he could hold on...

"James!" Sirius howled frantically at the sight of his best friend drowning. "Hold on James, we'll get you out!" Sirius got in front of Remus and pulled the vine with every last ounce of strength he had in him. It didn't seem to be doing any good, and Sirius had flashes of a horrible outcome; pulling the body of his best friend out of a scummy pond, going to his funeral, graduating from Hogwarts without him. With these thoughts fueling his force, Sirius pooled all of his strength and gave one last terrific wrench of the vine, and out of the water popped James, sputtering and coughing, but alive.

Not hesitating for a second, Sirius ran over and grabbed his best friend by the arms and dragged him out. James lay on the ground for a moment, coughing violently and spitting out mouthfuls of dirty water. He finally got his breath back enough to croak, "Si--Sirius, you--you saved me..."

"What are best friends for, aye?" Sirius said with a relieved grin, helping James to his feet. "I thought I'd lost you, Prongs."

"The centaur!" Remus shouted, throwing another vine out and beginning to pull. Losing no time, both Sirius and James helped in the struggle, and before long a wet, unhappy looking creature was shaking itself off on land.

"Thank you," he said modestly. "I would have surely died if it hadn't been for your bravery."

"We do what we can," Sirius said in a cocky voice. All three had turned around to leave when the centaur said in a melodramatic voice,

"Such a deed surely deserves a reward. You have been searching for treasure, have you not?"

"How did you know that?" James asked, turning around and walking back towards the centaur.

"I know many things," the creature said softly. "Like where a certain treasure might be located." All sets of ears perked at this point as they waited for the centaur to continue. "There is a large tree not too far from here with a picture of a dagger carved into the trunk. A giant tree with purple leaves. If you go to this tree and push your hand against the picture, it will open for you."

A loud whoop erupted from all three boys as they took off running through the forest, bounding between each other and weaving through one another's paths. A cry from James signaled he'd found the tree and indeed, there was a picture of an ancient looking dagger carved into the trunk.

"No wonder it wasn't showing up on the map!" Remus cried eagerly. "It was in the forest the whole time!"

James fervently slammed the dagger picture and the bottom of the trunk opened to reveal a small wooden chest that was cracked open just enough to let the observer realize that there was something of value inside. With trembling hands, James flipped the lid back to reveal shimmering mounds of gold and rubies. Remus stared with his jaw agape; Sirius licked his lips; James fainted.

"They found it! They found it!" Harry cried gleefully, clapping his hands. "Hooray for the Marauders!"

"And there were many more adventures before and after that," Remus said, still smiling from the recollection. "When they were together, they thought they could do anything. They were invincible." The smile faded as old memories began to resurface in Remus' mind. "Or, at least they were. A long time ago."

A curious look crossed Harry's face but quickly vanished when the doorbell rang. "That's my aunt," he said in a meek voice. He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I gotta go home now."

Remus led him to the door. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, ok?"

"Ok. Thank you for the pancakes." He pushed his glasses up and gave Remus a small smile. He liked Remus; he was different, somehow. He had something else that no one else did.

"Well, did he behave himself today?" Aunt Petunia barked to Remus once he opened the door, ignoring Harry completely.

Remus smiled grimly. "Absolutely, Mrs. Dursley. The epitome of model behavior."

"If we could only be so lucky at home," Petunia said, finally turning her acute gaze down to Harry, who instinctively cowered behind Remus' leg. "Come on, then. You can't stay here all day."

Almost reluctantly, Harry picked up his book bag near the door and followed Aunt Petunia down the walk. Remus watched them go, and winked at Harry when he glanced back at the end of the driveway.

Though the bad memories of James, Sirius and Peter were horrible, Remus couldn't help but feel a little twinge of triumph at the fact that he had impressed Harry with a Marauder story. His school days had been the best part of his life, and to be able to sit back and tell stories about it to eager ears made Remus feel, in some senses, a sort of quiet peace with his past.

Snickering to himself, Remus realized he hadn't had the heart to tell Harry the rest of the story...

"Not so fast," creaked a familiar voice in the dark. A bright light appeared next to the ancient-looking woman's face. "A late night adventure, boys?"

"Good evening, Professor McGonagall," Sirius said in a chivalrous voice. "Late night adventure? No, not us, Professor."

"Never," Remus added.

"Wouldn't dream of it," James said.

"I see," McGonagall said crisply. "So what is that we have in our hands?"

"This? Oh, nothing!"

"Just an old box, really."

"Really," she said in an unconvinced voice. She opened the lid of the box with her index finger and frowned. "I see you've found the Hogwarts Treasure. Congratulations, boys. Its taken six hundred years for anyone to find it." She looked up sharply. "Of course, finding this treasure meant you were breaking curfew, which means you'll have to be punished." She arched an eyebrow at Sirius. "Are you busy Saturday night, Mr. Black? I'm sure the boys lavatories could use a good going over." Sirius cringed. "Or, could it be that you intended to retrieve the treasure so you could make a donation to Hogwarts?"

"What?!" all three cried simultaneously.

"Collecting charity wouldn't be considered a punishable offense. And heaven knows, with the amount of trouble you three have gotten yourself into over these last years, expulsion may suggested to Professor Dumbledore if you break one more rule." The three opened their mouths to protest, but McGonagall silenced them by holding up her hand. "You know boys, the teacher's lounge could certainly use some new furniture. And the amount of what is in that box might very well be enough to cover the costs."

James sighed loudly, not wanting to fight a losing battle. "Fine! Here," he said, shoving the box at McGonagall. "But you'll have to live with the knowledge that you ruined three boy's dreams!"

"Then my work here is done," she said with a dour smile. "I bid you goodnight, gentlemen." As quickly as she came, McGonagall was gone with their treasure.

Sirius scoffed. "Great! That may be the only hidden treasure we ever find in our lives, and ironically, its going to buy new chairs for people we cause the most trouble for! Oh, fate! What a foul temptress!" he cried dramatically, falling on his back in feigned weakness.

James put a hand to his forehead and said in a weepy voice, "Where for art thy cruel hands of destiny! 'Lo, I flail!" He flopped down also.

Remus laughed and fell to the ground as well. "You guys are such wusses!"

Sirius and James shot up, glaring down at Remus. He smiled weakly and they attacked him right there on the lawn, wrestling each other and laughing hard. Cloaks were pulled, punches flew, and lots of fake howling rang out, but finally all three collapsed from exhaustion on the grass.

"You know," James panted. "Its doesn't really matter that we don't have that stupid treasure. I have all I ever wanted right here."

"Really? If I were you, I'd want a less girly punch," Sirius laughed. As a response James punched him on the shoulder hard and Sirius, though grimacing, grinned. "There, see? Got your wish."

"Prongs is right," Remus said. "Money isn't really worth anything when you get to thinking about it. You can't put a price on a sunny day, or a really good adventure, or even a night spent wrestling with your best friends."

"The Marauders are we, the Marauders three," Sirius said, stifling a yawn as a glint of sunlight played on the horizon.

"Feel like watching the sunrise, boys?"

"Sure, why not..."