Magic At Its Deepest

Number Four Privet Drive

14 August

Harry looked up from his potions essay, eyes wide with surprise and fear, as heavy footsteps echoed in the hall outside his room. He would know those footsteps anywhere. Vernon was coming.

Harry leapt up with a muffled curse, shoving all his school things under his pillow before resettling himself and trying to look as though he were still comfortable. A moment later, the door swung open, and Vernon stepped into the room.

"So."

Harry looked up, tense and wary, as his uncle approached him. Every instinct he possessed told him not to speak, so he kept silent as Vernon stopped in front of his bed. "So," Vernon said again, low and ominous. "I suppose you think that was funny, do you? Trying to give your aunt a heart attack, were you?"

Harry gaped at his uncle, astonished. "I didn't do anything!" he protested loudly. "I was just as shocked as you were--"

"A likely story!" Vernon boomed, and hauled Harry to his feet. "Dead people don't just show up on the doorstep! I know you did this, boy!"

"I had nothing to do with it!" Harry said, planting his feet and glaring up at Vernon. "I don't know who that was, but I had nothing to--"

Harry's protest was cut off by a resounding cracking sound as Vernon's closed fist came in contact with his jaw. He yelped in pained surprise, lost his footing, and fell backwards, cracking his skull on the headboard of his bed. His vision swam, and he blinked rapidly, cursing inwardly as he realized that the blow had knocked his glasses off his face. The frames were lying in two pieces halfway across the room, and the pieces of the lens were scattered all over the floor. How incredibly appropriate, Harry thought for some reason, and then blacked out.

He awoke several hours later, still sprawled in the exact same place on the floor. For a moment he wasn't certain what had woken him, and then he realized that Hedwig was tapping on his window. He struggled to his feet, flinching as he stepped on part of the lens of his glasses. Apparently Vernon had decided to let him clean the mess up himself. "Charmed, I'm sure," he drawled sarcastically, and made his rather painful way to the window. He cheered up somewhat when Hedwig flew in and landed on his shoulder, presenting him with a letter that bore his name in Remus Lupin's distinctive hand. "Thanks, girl," he said quietly, and limped back to the bed. Hedwig's cage was open, but she ignored it, perching instead on the headboard of his bed, eyeing him worriedly. "I'm all right," he lied. "Just sore."

Hedwig hooted in a way that told him she didn't believe a word of it. He sighed and shook his head. "Can't even lie to my own owl," he muttered as he opened the envelope. "Don't know what Vernon was--oh!" He grinned widely as he realized that although his address was written by Remus, the letter itself was from his godfather. Much happier now, he leaned back against the headboard and read.

Dear Harry,

Remus and I are both well, thank you, albeit rather concerned about you. On the subject of your late-night visitor, neither of us is exactly sure what's going on - it couldn't be Polyjuice Potion, it doesn't work if the person you want to impersonate is deceased - but we agree that whoever is impersonating your mother must be in Voldemort's employ, appalling though we find the thought. We are both grateful for the warning, and we will be very careful.

We are, however, far more concerned for you than we are for ourselves. Between the two of us, we feel certain that we can handle anything that comes our way, short of Voldemort himself coming for tea, in which instance I shall throw something large at his head and run while he's distracted.

In all seriousness, Harry, Remus and I are extremely concerned about you. You realize, I hope, that we both care for you a great deal, and this new development makes us very nervous. Please be careful at all times, even once you're back at Hogwarts. Don't go haring off into the Forest - did you and Ron really go and talk to an Acromantula? Honestly, Harry, and you say you don't go looking for trouble!

Harry, you have to be more careful from now on. I don't want you going anywhere by yourself, or without your wand. Hang the Ministry of Magic, I'd rather see you expelled for using magic over the summer than dead for not.

Harry...I know I've never told you this before, and perhaps I should say it in person instead of in a letter, but...I love you. Not because you're my godson, or my best friend's son, or The Boy Who Lived, but because you're you. I love you, and I worry about you, and when I see you again I expect a promise that you will be careful.

With all my love,

Sirius

Harry stared at the letter for a long time, unable to believe his eyes. 'I love you.' Nobody had ever said those words to him before, aloud or in print. Hermione signed her letters 'Love from,' but it wasn't quite the same. 'I love you.' He'd written it twice in the space of a single paragraph. Sirius loved him. Not The Boy Who Lived, not James and Lily Potter's Son. His godfather loved him just for who he was.

Wow.

Two days after the letter arrived from Sirius, Harry stood in the kitchen making breakfast. The lenses of his old glasses had been shattered beyond any hope of mending, and Vernon had been forced to pay for new ones. When the people at the glasses place had seen the condition of the old frames, they had insisted on Harry getting new ones, as well as a new eye exam. All told, Vernon had been forced to spend nearly three hundred dollars on his nephew, and he was not best pleased.

Harry's stomach growled, and he stared wistfully at the bacon and eggs he was currently preparing for his relatives. He wouldn't be allowed any of it, of course; Vernon's way of compensating for the money spent on the new glasses was to take it out of Harry's meals. Harry wondered absently how long a person could survive without food. He was pretty sure it wasn't very long, and wondered what Voldemort would think if his relatives killed Harry for him.

Harry was pulled out of this rather morbid train of thought by the sound of the doorbell ringing. He was about to go and answer it when Petunia came down the stairs, giving him a sharp look. "Don't burn the bacon, boy," she snapped, and opened the door. Harry turned back to the stove and flipped the bacon, sighing as his stomach growled again. "Bloody Muggles," he grumbled under his breath, then jumped a foot as the sound of Petunia slamming the door reverberated through the house. A second later, her bony fingers closed on his shoulder, and Harry gasped in pain as her nails dug into his skin.

"I'm warning you, boy," she hissed, "the next time one of those freak friends of yours shows up at this house..."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise and he twisted out of her grasp, rushing over to the door. She let out a shrill screech, but he ignored her and grabbed the door, pulling it open.

Standing on the doorstep, looking vastly amused, was Albus Dumbledore. "Ah, Harry!" he said jovially. "What a relief to see you. I was afraid for a moment that I might have gotten the wrong address."

Harry's jaw dropped open. Oh bloody Hell. Petunia slammed the door on the Headmaster. "Professor Dumbledore!" he gasped, horrified. "I'm so sorry!"

Dumbledore smiled benevolently at Harry, looking quite amused. "It's quite alright, Harry. It's been many years since I encountered someone who didn't recognize me on sight. It's actually rather refreshing, as I'm sure you can appreciate."

Harry debated telling Dumbledore that Petunia wouldn't have been any nicer if she had known who he was, decided against it, and settled for nodding absently and asking the Headmaster if he wanted tea.

Five minutes later, they sat at the kitchen table, sipping quietly from steaming mugs of Earl Grey, Harry studying Dumbledore as unobtrusively as possible and wondering what on earth he was doing on Privet Drive.

"And how are you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked at length. "Homework all finished, I hope?"

"Almost, Professor," Harry said. He knew, of course, that Dumbledore hadn't come all this way just to inquire after the status of his homework, but he knew better than to try to change the subject.

"Good, good," said Dumbledore, and took another sip of Earl Grey. "Excellent tea, Harry," he said approvingly.

"Thank you, Professor. Aunt Petunia taught me," said Harry.

"I see, I see." Dumbledore took another sip, then sat his cup down. "I know you're wondering why I've come, Harry."

"Er, yes," Harry admitted, studying his cup for a moment. When Dumbledore didn't say anything, he lifted his eyes slightly, meeting the Headmaster's. Dumbledore was studying him very carefully, as though weighing him against an unseen standard. "I have come," he said at length, "to take you to Hogwarts."

Harry nearly dropped his teacup. "I...I beg your pardon, Professor?" he said, startled.

Dumbledore smiled. "I have come to take you to Hogwarts," he repeated patiently. "I realize that school is the last place a boy of your age wants to spend his summer--"

"Oh, no, Professor, I would love to!" Harry said, smiling so widely he thought his face might crack. "Can we leave now? It won't take me but a minute to pack!"

Dumbledore's smile widened slightly. "Of course, Harry. We can leave right away."

True to his word, Harry had all his things packed and ready to go in record time, and moments later they were out the door, to Harry's complete relief.

"How are we going to Hogwarts, Professor?" Harry asked as the door closed behind them.

Dumbledore pointed at the street by way of response, and Harry blinked. There was a car in front of his house that he hadn't seen there a second before, and a rather large and impressive car at that. "Er," said Harry.

Dumbledore smiled benevolently. "You will find, Harry, that there are some benefits to being considered important," he said. "I believe the boot will hold your trunk, and of course Hedwig will likely wish to fly..."

"Yeah, she will," Harry said, and opened her cage. "We're going to Hogwarts, Hedwig," he said, and she hooted and nipped his finger affectionately before taking off. Harry closed the cage back up and put it into the boot, followed by his trunk, which Dumbledore levitated for him. Thus packed, Harry opened the door and slid into the backseat.

"Well, now, Harry, isn't this much better than a Portkey?" asked a very familiar voice from the front seat.

Harry jumped a foot as Remus Lupin turned around and winked at him from the passenger's side. "Professor Lupin!" he exclaimed, surprised and pleased. "I wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Or me, I imagine," said the driver, who Harry didn't recognize. At the blank look he received from Harry, he chuckled softly. "Guess that answers the question of whether the disguise would work or not, eh, Moony?"

Harry nearly fell off the seat. "Sirius!" he gasped softly, shocked. "How...you can drive?"

Dumbledore chuckled softly from Harry's right, and only then did Harry realize that the doors were closed and the car was moving. "Of course I can drive," Sirius said, winking at Harry in the rear-view mirror before returning his attention to the road. "My parents were Muggles. Didn't I tell you that?"

"Er. No," said Harry. "You forgot to mention that."

"Oh. Sorry." Sirius smiled and switched lanes with an ease that made Harry very glad that he was in a car with his godfather instead of his uncle. "Yes, my parents were Muggles, and they insisted that I maintain my identity in this world as well as in the magical world, which I must admit comes in handy."

Harry considered that information for a moment. "That explains the flying motorbike," he said finally, leaning back against the seat. "But what are you doing here?"

"We came to see you, of course," said Sirius in a way that made Harry suspect he wasn't being entirely truthful. "After all, you're my favorite godson."

"Aren't I your only godson?"

"Yes, but you would be my favorite even if you weren't my only," said Sirius, and Harry blushed.

"Besides," Remus said quietly, "you're not the only one who'll be safer at Hogwarts. Voldemort isn't exactly fond of Sirius and I either, you know."

"Oh." Harry considered that for a moment and nodded. "So you're going to stay at Hogwarts for the summer?"

"Oh, longer than that, I think," Remus said mildly. "Sirius will be masquerading as your pet dog, Snuffles, given to you by Professor Lupin for your birthday." He smiled at the delighted look on Harry's face. "He's even got a collar."

Sirius made a soft, disgruntled sound which made Remus and Dumbledore exchange amused looks.

"Good," said Harry, grinning. He paused for a second. "Are you going to be teaching again, Professor Lupin?" he asked hopefully. "Because if you were, it'd be perfect!"

Remus blushed, pleased and embarrassed, while Dumbledore and Sirius smiled. "No, Harry, I'm afraid not," he said softly. "While I would like nothing better, nothing has changed since my resignation. I am still a werewolf, and too much of a danger to you."

"Bollocks," Harry said, somewhat rudely. "I've survived four years with Snape, haven't I?"

At this point, Sirius' prowess behind the wheel was tested as he struggled to control both the car and his laughter. Remus raised his eyebrows, attempting to look like he wasn't quite as amused as he was, and Dumbledore gave Harry a look that was half amusement and half disappointment. "Harry," he said admonishingly, "Severus has never once attempted to harm you..."

"No," Harry retorted, "but he did threaten to slip me Veritaserum once!"

"He what?" Remus and Sirius demanded in perfect unison. Remus' expression was one of absolute shock, Sirius' of outrage. To his credit, he did not lose control of the car.

"Last year, after the second task." Harry smiled slightly. "He thought I stole the Gillyweed from his office."

"Oh? And did you?" Remus asked, eyebrows raised.

"Of course not," Harry retorted. "I may not be a Ravenclaw, but I'm not stupid." Even as he said this, he couldn't help but think of Hermione, who had once stolen boomslang skin and the horn of a bicorn from Snape, and Dobby the house-elf, who had swiped the gillyweed, neither of whom were stupid. He was not, however, going to mention this to the adults.

"Snape's more paranoid than Mad-Eye Moody, and with less reason," Sirius grumbled unpleasantly. Harry raised his eyebrows, but decided not to voice his opinion that anybody who was spying for Dumbledore in Voldemort's ranks had plenty of reason to be paranoid - he wasn't sure his theory about Snape was accurate, and if it was, he wasn't sure Sirius and Remus knew. Then, too, he wasn't sure that he was supposed to know, and so he kept silent.

"Harry?" Remus said suddenly. "Are those new glasses?"

Harry blinked and looked up, startled. "Huh? Oh, yeah," he said. "The old ones broke."

"Hmm." Remus reached out and placed his fingers under Harry's chin. "And of course, you couldn't use magic to fix them," he said, angling Harry's face toward him. "I like them, Harry. They look--" He stopped suddenly, and blinked. "Harry? Is that a bruise on your cheek?"

Harry jerked away. He'd forgotten about that mark, left by Vernon's hand two days before and already turning a sickly shade of yellow. "Er," he said, and looked down at his feet. "Yeah. I fell. Clumsy, you know."

"Harry," Remus said quietly, "please don't lie to me. I've seen you on a broomstick. You are not clumsy in the slightest." When Harry didn't reply, he reached out again, grasping the boy's chin firmly. "Your uncle did that to you, didn't he?"

Sirius nearly ran off the road. He'd been eyeing Harry in the rear-view mirror, concerned. Now he was livid. "What?" he snapped sharply. "Harry, is that true? Did that blasted Muggle--"

"Sirius, do shut up," Remus said mildly, and Sirius did so, more out of surprise at being so ordered than anything else. "Harry?"

Harry swallowed and looked at Remus, who was studying him patiently, hazel eyes warm with concern and affection. "Yeah," he admitted. "The night that that thing impersonating my mum showed up. He thought I did it."

"Why on earth did he think that?" Sirius demanded, and this time Remus didn't silence him.

"Whenever anything odd happens around there they automatically assume I did it," Harry said with a shrug. "He thought I was pulling a joke on them. Don't know what makes him think I'd be amused by some arse pretending to be my dead mother, but there you go."

"Is that how your glasses got broken?" Remus asked quietly.

"Yeah," Harry admitted, and flinched as Sirius started to pull over. "Sirius, you don't have to...oh, bugger." He sighed as his godfather stopped the car and climbed into the back. "Sirius, I'm--erk." He blinked, startled, as Sirius embraced him tightly. "Er...Sirius?" he said, bewildered. "I'm so sorry, Harry," Sirius whispered softly, further surprising the boy. "I had no idea they were treating you this way. If I'd known..." He trailed off and clutched Harry tighter. "I swear to you, Harry, you're not going back to them. Not ever."

Harry sighed and leaned against Sirius gratefully, not caring, for the moment at least, that Dumbledore and Lupin were watching. "I love you too," he murmured, so softly that only Sirius could hear. His godfather's grip on him tightened slightly, and he felt one of Sirius' hands move to the back of his head, cradling him in a very paternal manner. It was really quite nice, until Sirius' fingers brushed across the huge knot on back of his head left over from its impact with his bed.

Sirius' hand froze, and Harry cringed as his godfather went stiff under him. "Did he club you over the head too, Harry?" he asked, his voice deceptively mild. Harry wasn't fooled; Sirius was furious. He had the feeling that if he asked nicely, Sirius would disappear and come back with Vernon's hand stuffed and mounted on a wooden plaque.

"No," he said softly. "I, when he hit me, I fell back and hit my head on my bed. Really, Sirius," he said when Sirius pulled away slightly and gave him a disbelieving look. "That's all."

Sirius sighed softly and pulled Harry back up against his chest. Harry went willingly, strongly suspecting that he wouldn't have to ask very nicely at all.

"I believe," Dumbledore said quietly at this point, "that we should be on our way. Madame Pomfrey will be wanting to look at that bump."

Sirius released his godson reluctantly and nodded. "Yes, Headmaster."

"Switch seats with me, Albus," Remus said suddenly, and got out of his seat. Dumbledore moved obligingly, and a moment later a very startled Harry found himself being pulled into the werewolf's strong arms. "Er. Professor..."

"Harry," Remus said quietly, "I realize that you don't know me very well, and you probably don't remember anything about me from when you were a baby, but I have quite a few memories of you, and quite frankly, the idea of the boy whose nappies I used to change calling me Professor is rather disconcerting."

Harry thought the idea of his former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher remembering changing his nappies was rather disconcerting too, but chose not to say anything. "Er...sorry...Remus," he said.

"Quite all right, Harry," Remus said, and released him with a pat to his shoulder. "I realize that all this physical affection is new to you, and I'm very sorry for that...but I want you to know, Harry, that Sirius is not the only person in this car who loves you."

Harry found that he had no idea what to say to that. He stared at Remus for a moment, taking it in, then sighed and leaned back against his shoulder.

Ten minutes later, he was fast asleep.

"Out like a light," Remus said, amused, as Harry slid down the seat and into his lap, snoring softly.

"Poor kid must not be sleeping very well," Sirius said sadly. "Small wonder, living with people who hit him."

Remus sighed and reached down, brushing hair out of Harry's eyes. "I wish I'd known," he said softly. "I wish he'd told somebody. Anybody."

"Harry is not accustomed to having people worry about his well-being," Dumbledore said. "Eventually, I believe he will begin to open up more, but it will take some time."

"Too much time," Remus agreed quietly. "The Weasleys have done wonders for him, but nobody can replace his parents. Perhaps now, with Lily here..."

"I doubt if Harry will be quick to accept that she is truly his mother," Dumbledore said sadly. "He has had very little reason to trust blindly, and this is a highly improbable circumstance."

"It will hurt Lily deeply for him not to trust her."

"Yes, it will. But I believe she will understand. And I believe that, in the end, he will be convinced. I do not, however, know how."

After that, the three men fell silent, each thinking of different things, but all of them concerned with the teenage boy currently curled up asleep in Remus' lap.

This silence was shattered completely, however, when the teenage boy in question began to scream.

"Harry!" Sirius gasped, and quickly pulled over into a grocery, practically diving over the seat the moment the car was parked. Harry was still asleep, but he was thrashing wildly, and Sirius pulled him into his arms, deeply concerned. "Harry...Harry, wake--"

"Sirius!" His godfather's name erupted out of Harry with the force and volume of a Howler, laden with terror, and he shot up into a sitting position, eyes wide and panicked, breathing heavily. "Sirius!" he gasped again, staring unseeing into the air.

"Ssh, Harry, I'm right here," Sirius whispered, pulling Harry closer to him. Harry blinked, then gave a long, shuddering sigh and burrowed into his godfather's warmth as he realized where he was. "I'm right here," Sirius said again, "it's all right, I've got you, you're safe with me, I promise."

Harry clung to Sirius tighter, shuddering, his face buried in his godfather's shoulder. "It was the graveyard, with Cedric," he said, his voice rough, but distant, as if he were describing something that had happened to somebody else. "He said, 'Wands out, d'you reckon?' and I agreed, and then I felt somebody, and I said so, and then they were there, Wormtail and Voldemort. 'Kill the spare,' that's what Voldemort said. 'Kill the spare. Kill the spare, kill the spare. Kill. The. Spare'. And I turned around, and Cedric was gone, but then it wasn't Cedric, it was you, and you were dead."

Sirius stared at his godson's head for a moment, horrified, and then made a soft, pained noise and pulled him close to his chest. "Oh, Harry," he whispered, his cheek pressed against the boy's dark hair. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry. So sorry you had to see that. So sorry. I'm here, I'm all right, see? I'm just fine."

Harry burrowed further into Sirius' side, clutching him tightly, and Sirius began to stroke his hair lightly, whispering soft, comforting words that Remus and Dumbledore couldn't make out. They watched as Harry slowly began to relax against Sirius, murmuring responses to his worried questions. At length, Harry looked up from Sirius' chest and smiled wanly at the others. "Sorry about that," he said quietly.

"It is only natural, Harry, that you would experience some terrible nightmares as a result of what happened in that graveyard," Dumbledore said quietly.

"We've all had our fair share of night terrors," Remus added quietly. "I get especially violent ones around the full moons."

"And you should hear some of the ones I've had since I left Azkaban," said Sirius. Harry sighed and leaned back against Sirius, who wound an arm around him, holding him close.

"I believe," Dumbledore said at length, "that we need to get Harry to Hogwarts rather expediently. Harry, I am well aware that you dislike Portkey travel..."

Wandsoutkillthesparestraightbackedandproudkillthesparethewayyourfatherdiedkillthesparetakemybodybacktomyparentskillthespare. Harry went white, swallowed hard, and raised his chin. "I can handle it, Headmaster," he said quietly, "if you think it's best."

Dumbledore studied him for a moment, then nodded. "I do," he said.

Harry nodded once and pulled himself out of Sirius' arms. "Then let's go," he said, and stepped out of the car.

The first thing Harry did when the Portkey took them onto the Hogwarts grounds was to turn away from the adults, drop to his knees, and vomit loudly until nothing was left to vomit. Not that there had been a great deal in his stomach to begin with. When he'd finished, he stared at the ground in front of him for a long minute, then stood up, not meeting anybody's eyes. "Sorry," he said softly.

"It's all right, Harry," Sirius said, and put a hand on his godson's shoulder. "The first time I used a Portkey I threw up all over myself, your father, and Remus."

"Yes," said Remus dryly. "We never did get the smell out of those robes."

Harry finally gathered the nerve to look up at the adults. All three of them were watching him with a combination of pity and amusement. Remus pulled his wand and waved it at the mess, which disappeared instantly. "Come on, Harry," he said quietly, extending a hand. "Let's go get you something to wash that taste out of your mouth."

Harry accepted the hand gratefully, a small smile on his face as Sirius's hand dropped down from his shoulder and captured his other hand tightly.

Harry was somewhat surprised to find out that the Hogwarts House-elves had already been told of Sirius' innocence; the moment they stepped into the kitchen they were greeted with a squeaky chorus of "Misters Black and Potter, sirs! And Professor Lupin!"

As usual, one voice in particular made itself known over the chorus; Harry couldn't help but grin as Dobby came running up, beaming. "Harry Potter, sir! Harry Potter is coming to visit Dobby!" he cried, and flung himself on Harry, clutching him until Harry thought his ribs might break.

"H-hullo, Dobby," Harry managed to say, and patted him awkwardly on the shoulder, glaring at his snickering godfather. "How are you getting along?"

Dobby made a little gasping sound and hugged him tighter, driving all the air out of him. "Harry Potter is asking Dobby how he is! Harry Potter is noble indeed, to be concerned over Dobby after all that has happened to him! Dobby is honored to be in the presence of Harry Potter!"

Harry blushed scarlet. As he was also turning blue from lack of oxygen, the result was a rather alarming shade of purple that made Sirius reach out and pry the House Elf off his godson. "Let Harry breathe, Dobby, there's a good chap," he said. "Do you think you could scrounge up some Butterbeer?"

"Of course, Mister Harry Potter's Godfather Sir!" Dobby squeaked, and disappeared with a loud crack. A second later, he was back, a whole crate of butterbeer in his hands.

"Thanks, Dobby," Harry said, taking the crate away from Dobby, who was swaying slightly under its weight.

"Does Harry Potter want anything to eat?" Dobby asked eagerly.

Harry made a face and shook his head. His recent bout of nausea made the notion of putting more food into his stomach seem like the worst possible idea, and anyway, he didn't want to risk throwing up in front of Dobby and the other House Elves. Knowing them, they'd think it was their fault somehow. "No food, thanks, Dobby," he said, and opened a butterbeer. "But this...this is just what I needed," he said happily, and took a long sip, sighing happily as the sweet warmth spread through him. "Exactly what I needed. You're a lifesaver, Dobby."

Dobby, of course, beamed.

Four bottles of butterbeer apiece later, Remus, Sirius and Harry made their way out of the kitchen, after promising to come back and visit again very, very soon.

"How," asked Sirius as the portrait closed behind them, "did you manage to get that House Elf to like you that much?"

Harry smiled slightly. "He used to work for the Malfoy family," he said quietly. "I tricked Lucius into giving him clothes. You'd worship me too if I'd gotten you out of that house."

"Quite likely," Sirius agreed, chuckling softly and winding an arm around Harry's shoulders, pulling him close to his side. "Er...Harry?"

Harry blinked, startled by the change in his godfather's tone. "Yes, Sirius?"

"There's something you need to know...I need to warn you about." He stopped and released Harry, looking down at him with a somber expression. "The day we got your letter that somebody was impersonating your mother, Remus ran into her in London."

Harry drew in a startled breath. "Oh," he whispered. "Are you all right, Remus?"

Remus smiled tiredly. "Yes, I'm fine, Harry, thank you for asking. As you can understand, I was rather angry to see a Death Eater wearing Lily's face. I drew my wand and forced them into our flat, and then we brought her here."

Harry's jaw dropped. "The Death Eater's here?" he gasped softly. "At Hogwarts? Why?"

"We brought her here for interrogation," Remus said quietly. "We used Veritaserum, and the three of us took turns asking her things."

"Oh," said Harry. "So who is she then?"

Remus and Sirius exchanged glances. "That's what we wanted to warn you about, Harry," Sirius said quietly. "You see, we asked her a whole lot of questions that only your mother could know the answer to, and she answered them all correctly. She knew things that nobody knew, not even Peter." He swallowed. "She's your mum, Harry. I don't know how it's possible, but it's Lily."

Harry stared at them in shock for a long moment, eyes reflecting disbelief and the beginnings of a faint, desperate hope. Then those eyes narrowed and went colder and harder than Sirius had ever seen Lily's. "That's impossible," he said quietly. "No magic can bring back the dead. Dumbledore said so himself."

"Yes, we all thought that too, but...Harry,, it is her. There's nobody else it could possibly be. She knew things nobody else knew...she knew that they wanted Remus for your godfather but the Ministry wouldn't let him take the role on...she knew that they moved their wedding date to accommodate Remus because the first date they picked was a full moon. She knew everything, Harry. I'm telling you, it's her."

"And I'm telling you, Sirius, that I don't believe it," Harry said, quietly but firmly. "This is just some sick bastard's idea of fun. Probably Voldemort's. She might even think she's my mum. I certainly wouldn't put it past him to find some poor bastard, put him under so many charms and glamours he looks like my mother, and then confuse the poor bugger into thinking he is her. That's not my mother. I don't care what the Veritaserum says. My mother is dead."