Of Seeing Through The Mask

Remus Lupin looked at the Daily Prophet while sitting at his kitchen table in his shabby shack on Augury Lane. He couldn't afford anything better. After all, not many people want a werewolf to work for them. He sighed, closed his eyes, and leaned back. And he wondered.

He wondered if anyone missed him. He wondered if Sirius would die and make the whole world happy. He wondered if Lily, James, and Peter were watching him now. He wondered what Harry was doing...

It had been exactly one year since the Incident. That was what Remus liked to call it. Not 'the Deaths,' not 'the Ultimate Betrayal,' or even 'the Horrible Incident,' just the Incident. It made things seem much simpler than they were.

He wondered what would happen if he just took the knife on his table and ended it all there. He wondered if anyone would ever find out. He wondered if anyone would care.

And he almost did it.

Almost.

Because at that minute there was a knock on the door.

Remus's head snapped up. "Who the hell could that be?" he muttered. No one had visited him since - well, no one had ever visited him. He opened the door and almost fainted on the spot.

It was Albus Dumbledore.

"Hello, Remus," he said quietly. "Long time no see."

"Oh - yes - hello - come in," Remus said. He felt instant shame that the Headmaster of Hogwarts had to see his filthy shack.

"Why thank you," Dumbledore said. Remus led him into the untidy kitchen, where Dumbledore sat down at the table.

"Tea?" Remus asked. "I had some in the pot - "

"That's quite all right, thank you, Remus," Dumbledore smiled. "There was something I wanted to talk to you about."

"What is it?" Remus asked, sitting down.

"It's about Harry."

Remus almost died right then and there. "Wh - what? Is he okay?"

"I'm not sure, actually. That's why I'm here," Dumbledore said calmly. "You of course remember that Arabella has been watching over Harry, to make sure he is safe?"

"Of course," Remus said. Arabella had been a close friend of his, a long time ago.

"Well, she hasn't seen him outside at all for the past two months," Dumbledore said, still keeping the calm in his voice. "In fact, she is extremely worried. She sees reason to fear for his safety."

Remus wanted to scream Of course he's not safe; he's with Petunia for crying out loud! Instead, all he said was, "Ja - James's son? Not safe?"

"We're not positive," Dumbledore continued, "but we think he could be hurt." Dumbledore pierced him with his famous stare. "I wanted to ask you if you could check up on him."

Remus almost spit out the scone he was eating. "Me? Why me? Anyone else would do, Petunia would probably recognize me, for crying out loud! Why couldn't Arabella do it? Or Mundungus, or anyone!"

Dumbledore's stare pierced him still. "I have my reasons."

"But - but anyone else would do just fine, or even better! Mundungus, he would - "

"I did ask Mr. Fletcher, but he seemed quite certain that you should do it," Dumbledore said. "Lily and James would trust you to do it more than anyone else in this situation."

Remus was silent. As much as he hated to admit it, Dumbledore was right. Lily and James would have trusted him to do that. They would have asked him to do it for them. He was the last Marauder, after all, and Marauders trusted each other.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked.

And that was how Remus found himself a day later. He stood on the front porch of Number Four, Privet Drive, after having had a joyful visit with Arabella, wearing Muggle clothes and pretending to be an officer taking children's fingerprints. He took a deep breath.

"This is for you, Prongs," he muttered. He rang the doorbell.

When the door opened, it was Vernon Dursley who answered. Remus remembered him clearly: he had seen him a year before, at Lily and James's funeral. He was a fat man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Remus almost winced at the sight of him, but caught himself.

"What do you want?" he asked gruffly.

"I am - ah - here to take fingerprints," Remus said. "Do you have any children, Mr. - ah - "

"Dursley," Vernon said gruffly. "Yes, come in... Dudley!"

Remus walked through the door, trying not to snigger at the name of the child. Something extremely fat came down the stairs. At first Remus thought it was a whale and was going to scream. "Come here, Dudley, this man here's going to make sure you don't get into any trouble..." Vernon said.

No less than he deserves, Remus said, now understanding that this was not a marine mammal, but a two-year old. An extremely fat two-year old, that is.

"Yes, come here - Dudley," Remus said. "I'm going to take your fingerprint." Remus winced as the gigantic blob that was supposedly the boy's hand touched his hand. He took the fingerprint as Arabella had shown him how to, and stood up. "Thank you. Do you have any other children in the house?" Remus waited anxiously for an answer.

"Ah, yes, he's not ours, really... my nephew lives here... BOY!" Remus did wince at that. A little boy ran into the room. It was Harry.

Remus trembled. He was a miniature James, even at the age of two. His black hair was ruffled in the back, and his bright green eyes that exactly resembled Lily's shone, and on his head was a lightning bolt scar - the scar that made Harry Potter stand out from the rest of the world. But Remus frowned - he was skinny, too skinny, he was a stick. Remus wondered if they fed him, and bit his lip to keep from slapping Vernon.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon?" Harry said in the voice of a tiny child.

"This man's going to take your fingerprint. Hold out your hand!" Harry nodded and raised his hand so that Remus could hold it. Remus smiled and ever so delicately touched Harry's hand, trembling with happiness.

But that happiness ended in a second. From Harry's arm, a drop of blood slid down and traced its way so that it touched Remus's hand. Remus looked at his hand and saw the blood trickle down it. His eyes widened. Harry was hurt, and they were trying to hide it.

Remus took a deep breath. Vernon and Dudley were both silent. "Can I see your arm?" Remus asked gently, the little muscle by his mouth twitching.

"It's just an accident - little runt fell down the stairs yesterday - " Vernon exclaimed.

"I am with Children's Services and I would like to see your arm. I won't hurt you," Remus assured Harry. A little white lie never hurt anyone, Remus thought. When Harry was paralyzed with fear, Remus took the opportunity to lift his sleeve.

There was a long, narrow cut in Harry's arm. It was fresh - maybe an hour old, Remus's werewolf-keen senses told him - and swollen. It stretched from his elbow to his wrist, his sleeve just barely covering it. Remus started to shake with anger. "How did this happen?" he asked Harry, ignoring Vernon's excuses. "You can tell me."

Harry bit his little lip, just like his mother had always done when she was nervous. "Uncle Vernon cut me 'coz I was a bad wittle boy," Harry said quietly. Remus tried to control his anger.

"Is - is this all?" Remus asked gently. Harry shook his little head, and pulled up his other sleeve where another knife mark lay, although it was a little older than the other one. All that remained was a scar. Remus, shaking with fury, turned to Vernon, who was still blabbering excuses.

"This could be considered serious child abuse," he said loudly. "I'm going to have to take this child away." Before Vernon could answer, Remus drew his wand and pointed it at him. Vernon stared at it in terror.

"Give me one reason," he hissed. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right now!"

"You're - you're one of them!" Vernon said in horror.

"Oh, very good. Don't you remember me? Because I remember you, Vernon Dursley. Lily told me all about you. You fool!"

"You - you're one of Potter's friends..." Vernon said, backing away with his son.

"Yes, I was James's friend, his best friend, and this is for his son! Deleterious!" Without waiting to see the results of his hex, he picked Harry up gently as he had seen Lily do countless times and said, "You're coming with me."

When Remus was out the door, Harry said in a small voice, "You wook familiar," he said quietly.

"We've met, Harry," Remus said, walking briskly towards Arabella's house. He looked down at the little face with love. "You just may not remember."

"Is your name Mwooney?" Harry said quietly as they turned a corner. Remus stopped dead.

"Yes, some people called me that," he said quietly. "A very long time ago."

"I dweamed about a person named Mwooney," Harry said. "He wooked yike you."

Remus started walking again, now walking much more slowly. "You won't ever, ever have to go back there, Harry, not as long as I'm alive."

"Where are you taking me, Mwooney?" Harry asked.

"Somewhere you'll be safe, Harry," Remus said, his throat closing up. "Somewhere not too far away."

"Oh. 'Coz this is how Uncle Vernon usually takes me to Mrs. Figg's house."

Remus paused again. "Yes, that's where we're going. Oh, look, we're here."

"I yike Mrs. Figg," Harry said. "She's a nice lady."

"Yes, she is," Remus said quietly. He knocked on the door. "Arabella!"

"Remus?" Arabella's voice came opening the door. "What ha - oh my."

"'Ello, Mrs. Figg," Harry said politely, give her a toothy grin.

"Look at this, Arabella," Remus said angrily, pulling up Harry's sleeves ever so gently. "They were abusing him! Of all the nerve! Lily and James's son!"

Arabella almost fainted. "Come on," she said quietly, taking Harry in her arms. "You feel okay?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Figg," Harry said politely. "How are you?"

"It's you I'm worried about right now, Harry," Arabella choked, carefully setting him down on the couch. As she inspected the wounds, Remus said urgently, "What are we going to do, Arabella? We can't let Harry go back there!"

"Someone's going to have to take him," Arabella sighed. Harry was watching them both carefully as they inspected him. "It doesn't look too bad, but..." Harry watched in amazement as Mrs. Figg touched a long stick to his arm and the cut was gone instantly "... but that looks much better."

"How do you do that?" Harry asked in childish amazement. Arabella and Remus smiled down at him.

"You'll learn someday, Harry," Remus said quietly.

"Are you gonna make me go back there?" Harry asked, his delicate face frowning slightly.

"No!" Arabella and Remus said quickly. Remus sat by Harry's side and hugged his fragile form gently. "Arabella... we need to contact Dumbledore."

"But they were abusing him, Dumbledore! I mean, I couldn't just leave him there! Their nephew, for crying out loud!" Remus said loudly, waving his arm for emphasis.

"Of course, Remus, I understand," Dumbledore said serenely. His eyes turned to Harry. "And so we have Harry Potter."

Harry gulped. "Yes, sir, dat's my name," Harry said quietly. Remus almost laughed.

"It's okay, Harry," Remus said, ruffling his hair. "You don't have to be scared of him."

"I should say not!" Arabella said, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

"Well," Dumbledore said, smiling at the small child, "we must arrange Harry's future, because I fear I will be hazarding my own health by sending him back to Vernon and Petunia."

"You can say that again!" Remus and Arabella exclaimed.

"It could be arranged for him to go to an orphanage..." Dumbledore began.

"NO!" Arabella and Remus said loudly.

" ... But I don't think that's the answer. Perhaps living arrangements could be made with either of you - until he goes to Hogwarts, that is."

"Wos Hogwarts?" Harry asked innocently.

"This is Hogwarts, Harry," Arabella said soothingly. "It's a school. A school for magic."

"Magic?" Harry asked in awe.

"Yes, Harry, magic," Remus said, smiling at the little one. "You're a wizard, Harry."

"You mean yike Abra Kadabra?" Harry asked, amazed.

"Yes, Harry, like Abra Kadabra," Arabella smiled.

"Would either of you be interested in playing, say, foster parent?" Dumbledore smiled.

"No," Arabella said. "I love Harry to death, but I'm just too close to the Dursleys. They might - kidnap him or something. I would have a heart attack."

"Remus?" Dumbledore asked expectantly.

"WHAT? Are you CRAZY? I could - I could kill him or something! Hurt him! Make him a - a - "

"Now, Remus," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "I don't think that should factor into it. You're perfectly harmless."

"No, I'm not, Dumbledore!" Remus exclaimed. "I'm a - well, I couldn't live with myself if I hurt him! It'd be like failing Lily and James all over again!"

"I wanna go wit Mwooney," Harry said quietly. There was silence. Remus, shaking, looked at Harry. His face, so soft, so innocent, just like James's, looking at him in disappointment. "Why can't I go wit you, Mwooney?"

Remus's heart broke into a million pieces. "Moony?" Arabella asked, amused. "Corrupting him already, are we, Remus?"

"Bella..." Remus said. Harry looked at him pleadingly.

"Pweez?" Harry said desperately.

Dumbledore and Arabella watched the scene smiling. Remus holding his breath, thinking hard, while Harry looked at him hopefully. Remus stared at Harry. "Why'd I have to be the soft one?" he groaned, pulling Harry into a hug. "All right. I'll do it. As long as Bella takes him on - those nights."

"Done and done," Arabella said happily.

"It seems Harry's taken to you, Remus," Dumbledore said, also smiling.

"Yea, well, he's got his father in him, doesn't he?" Remus asked, looking down at the tuft of black hair that was Harry's head. This was the happiest day of his life.

And it was arranged. Harry lived with Remus in a house that Remus had barely scraped the money together to buy, and Harry went to "visit" Arabella once a month. And they lived in harmony for six months. One day, the day Harry came back from Arabella's house, the day after the full moon, Harry came up to Remus, who was leaning back on the couch drowsily. He opened one eye and saw the now three-year old Harry staring up at him. "What is it, Harry?" Remus smiled.

"Wemus," Harry said, frowning. "Why are you sick all the time?"

Remus's eyes flew open. He couldn't possibly have noticed - but if he had - if he wanted to leave - Remus would have understood, but he wasn't sure if his heart could take it. He took a deep breath. Just tell him the truth, Remus told himself. Tell him the truth... "Harry," Remus said hoarsely. "Remember when I told you that everyone is different?"

"In there own special way," Harry recited, smiling.

"Well, there are some people who are very, very different. They're called - werewolves. Every month, when you can see the whole moon in the sky, they - they lose their mind. They - they transform into wolves. And they do can do anything," Remus took a deep breath. "And they have no control over what they do. They stay that way until the next morning." Remus watched Harry's eyes widen and he fought the tears that were beginning to form in his eyes.

"Is - is dat you, Wemus?" Harry asked, shaking. "Are you a - a werewuff?"

Remus hung his head and closed his eyes. "Yes, Harry. That's why I'm sick all the time."

"But - but werewuffs are scary!" Harry said, frightened. "You can't be a werewuff! You can't!"

Remus bit his lip and watched as Harry neared tears, while he was still fighting them himself. "Harry... I don't know what to say," Remus said finally. "If - if you want to leave and live with Arabella, I understand - "

"No!" Harry said, crying and flinging himself around Remus. "I wanna stay with you, Mwooney!"

Remus's mouth formed a perfect "o" of surprise. "But - but - I don't want to hurt you, Harry."

"You won't," Harry sniffled. "I wuv you. And dat's why I go visit Mrs. Figg, when you're sick, wight, Mwooney?"

Remus started to shake. "Right, Harry," Remus said, putting his arms around the little child. "Right."

"Remus?" Harry called through the small house.

"Harry?" Remus said, coming out of the kitchen. "How was sch- oh bloody hell."

An eight-year old Harry was drenched from head to toe in blood. There was a huge cut running down the right side of his face. Blood dripped on the carpet everywhere.

"Bloody hell, Harry, what happened to you?!" Remus said, grabbing his wand in his pocket. He muttered a few spells under his breath and Harry was as good as new, except for one long scar on his right cheekbone. He muttered a cleansing spell for the floor and ushered Harry into the living room, where they both sat on the couch, Harry still holding a hand up to his cheek.

"What happened, Harry?" Remus asked exasperatedly, looking at his foster son worriedly.

"Kids from school," Harry muttered, not looking up. "Muggles. Pushed me. Slapped me."

"Merlin's beard, have you got giants in your class or something?" Remus exclaimed.

"Older kids," Harry sighed, rubbing at his cheek furiously. "Thought it was funny."

"FUNNY?" Remus screamed. "FUNNY? I'll show THEM funny..."

"Remus, you're scaring me!" Harry said, backing away. Remus took a deep breath.

"Right, focus, focus... you are not going back to that school, Harry."

"But - "

"No buts!" Remus insisted. "You're going to be home schooled. Maybe you'll learn something that will actually be of use at Hogwarts. To think if they weren't Muggles..."

"And who's going to home-school me? You?" Harry asked. Remus wrinkled his nose.

"I only graduated from Hogwarts eleven years ago, Harry. Yes, a lot has happened, but really, I remember everything important - that is, everything but Divination and Potions. I've still got my books somewhere..."

"Why can't we just go to Diagon Alley?" Harry asked.

"Too risky," Remus shook his head. "Dumbledore wants you to be secluded, Harry, hidden... even if Voldemort is gone, the Death Eaters are still about. Lucius Malfoy, for one. And Severus Snape."

"The big-nosed git who never washed his hair?" Harry asked, smirking.

"The one and only," Remus grinned. "Oh, the pranks we pulled on him and his cronies... anyway, you're trying to distract me, Harry."

"You always know, don't you, Remus?" Harry asked, smiling slightly.

Remus twisted his face into a frown. "Keeping a secret allows you to observe things."

There was silence for a moment. Harry hugged Remus suddenly. "It's not fair," he whispered. "It's just not fair."

"Harry..." Remus said. "I'm alright, okay? I know it's not fair, Merlin's beard, I know it better than anyone!"

Harry nodded, took a deep breath, and let go. "Right."

"And you have to leave for Arabella's tonight, Harry," Remus reminded him.

"Are you tired?"

"Just a little."

"Go rest. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive, Moony," Harry smiled.

"I'll be right in the bedroom if you need me," Remus reminded him, getting up.

"I know," Harry smiled.

Remus ruffled Harry's hair and left the room. Harry sighed and put his head in his hands. "He doesn't deserve this," he muttered. "He doesn't." Harry got up and pulled a dusty, leather-bound book off the wall. He blew the dust off of it and coughed. He opened it to a random page. It happened to be Remus's Hogwarts graduation picture. The whole year was hooting and hollering silently, beaming up at him. The seven people in the front waved at him furiously. Harry recognized a few of them. Arabella, Mundungus, and Remus smiled at him and waved their diplomas furiously. And next to them, smiling... Lily Evans and James Potter. Harry's parents. Harry gulped. He knew Remus did his best, and he couldn't hope for a better foster father, but... it would have been wonderful if he could have his real parents back.

The other two people Harry had a harder time deciphering. One, a fat one who was less enthusiastic than the others, he recognized as Peter Pettigrew. Remus seldom mentioned him, and Harry wasn't sure what had happened to him. The other one - no, he didn't look like anyone Remus had mentioned before. He had shoulder-length black hair and dark eyes. He was currently sticking his tounge out at a group who appeared to be Slytherins - the Dark house. One of them Harry recognized as Severus Snape. He made a face at him while Snape scowled up at him. Apparently Harry had been staring at this picture longer than he realized, because soon he heard a voice.

"What are you looking at, Harry?"

"Hello, Arabella," Harry smiled, looking up. "Just looking at some old pictures."

"By Merlin, what happened to you?" Arabella exclaimed, gesturing to his cheek.

"Don't want to talk about it," Harry muttered, putting a hand up to his cheek again. "Remus fixed it, anyway."

"Where is he?"

"I told him to get some rest."

"Oh, sounds like you're the adult now, Harry," Arabella smirked.

"He looked tired," Harry shrugged.

"Who are you looking at?" Arabella asked, sitting down next to him.

"Hogwarts graduation picture," Harry said. "Who's that?" he asked, pointing to the black-haired man.

Arabella made a horrible face. "Sirius Black," she spat.

"Did you know him?"

"I thought I did," Arabella said vaguely. "Come on, Harry, let's see how old Moony is doing." Arabella closed the book and put it back on the shelf.

"Right," Harry said. He followed her into Remus's bedroom.

"Hey, Remus," Arabella said quietly. "How ya doin'?"

"Fine," Remus said, opening his eyes wearily. "Thanks, Arabella."

"No problem," Arabella smiled sadly, squeezing Remus's hand. "I'll bring Harry back around lunchtime, okay?"

"Okay," Remus said quietly.

"Are you going to be okay, Remus?" Harry asked, staring at him in concern.

"I'll be fine, Harry," Remus said hoarsely. "Don't worry about me. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," Harry said, giving Remus a hug. "I miss you."

"I'll miss you too, Harry," Remus smiled drowsily.

"Why don't you go find some Floo powder, Harry?" Arabella said to Harry.

"Okay," Harry nodded. "Bye, Moony." Harry smiled sadly.

"Bye, Harry," Remus said croakily, waving as if it hurt to raise his hand. Harry went out of the room.

"What in the name of Quidditch happened to him, Remus?" Arabella said, trying to keep her voice low for him. Remus shook his head in anger.

"School... bullies... never going back," Remus said coherently.

"Who? I'll kill them, I'll kill them slowly, roast them until they squeal..."

"Bella - no. Home school."

"You want to home-school Harry?" Arabella asked.

"You wanna do it?" Remus asked, closing his eyes.

"No, but - "

"Learn the stuff he needs," Remus muttered, opening his eyes again.

"Right," Arabella said, giving in. "You know, Harry was wondering about - him."

"Him?" Remus said, his eyes widening. "Sirius?"

"Yea..." Arabella said, making a fist. "Stupid, filthy - "

"Bella..."

"Just to let you know... if he asks any questions..."

"Right," Remus said, shaking his head. "Right."

"I've gotta go, Remus. Be careful."

"I'm always careful," Remus muttered.

"I know," Arabella said, kissing his forehead. "See you tomorrow, Remus."

"Bye," Remus said drearily, watching Arabella go.

"Ready, Harry?" Arabella asked.

"Ready," Harry smiled.

"Now, say, 'Arabella's Abode.'"

"Arabella's Abode," Harry repeated, stepping into the fire. He disappeared in a whoosh. Arabella, looking around the house once more, followed him.

Later that night, at dinner, Harry moved the food around his plate, but was clearly not intending to eat it. "Harry, why aren't you eating?" Arabella asked, concerned.

"I am," Harry said defiantly.

"No, you're not. Something's bothering you."

Harry sighed. "'Snot fair," he muttered.

"What's not - oh," Arabella said, understanding. There was silence for a minute. "He loves you, Harry. He would just die without you." Harry was silent. "And no eight-year old should have to hear that, but it's true."

Harry sighed and sat back, letting his fork fall to his plate with a bang. "I guess so."

"Not hungry?"

"No."

"Sure?"

"Yes."

"Why don't you go to bed, then," Arabella said. "Then in the morning we'll go do something, and head back to Remus's around lunchtime. Is that all right?"

"Yes." Harry stood up. "'Night."

"Try to actually get some sleep," Arabella called over Harry's shoulder.

"I will," Harry called back. He rounded into the room he now called his own - it was really a guest bedroom, but Harry spent so much time in there that he had his own clothes in the drawers of the dressers and his own Quidditch posters (Puddlemere United was his favorite team - Remus had introduced him to the sport, and he enjoyed watching it and played himself sometimes) hung on the walls. He pulled on some pajamas and watched the sun set as he climbed into bed. The moon rose slowly as Harry watched it, cursing under his breath.

As he drifted off to sleep, Harry heard in his head the cry of a lone wolf.

The next morning, Harry woke up and went into the dining room. Arabella smiled at him.

"Hungry now, Harry?" she asked.

"Starving," Harry mumbled, sitting down at the table. Arabella placed some toast, bacon, and pumpkin juice in front of him. "Thanks," Harry murmured, wolfing it down.

"You didn't sleep well either, did you, Harry?" Arabella sighed.

Harry made a sour face. "No," he said, taking a swig of pumpkin juice.

"Mmm..." Arabella said, picking up the Daily Prophet. "Oh, look, a Rita Skeeter article. Wonder who the victim is today?"

"Whoever's upset her the most," Harry said sourly. He had read one of Rita Skeeter's many articles once, and he had far from enjoyed it.

"Fudge again," Arabella sighed, scanning the article. "Honestly, can't she find someone else to complain about?"

"What's the point?" Harry grumbled. "No one reads her column anyway."

"Yes, but they might if she stopped abusing her right to freedom of press." Arabella sighed, but then smiled as she looked over the paper. "So - what do you want to do before we head back over to Remus's house?" Harry shrugged.

"I dunno," he said.

"There has to be something," Arabella said, waving her fork around as she spoke.

"Just a walk," Harry shrugged.

"A walk in the park? Well, suit yourself." Arabella sighed. A few minutes later, Arabella and Harry were outside on their way to the park. Suddenly three people came from behind the corner.

"Is that - " Harry muttered, squinting. "It is - oh no..."

"Harry, what - oh, hello Mr. and Mrs. Dursley," Arabella said, her eyes widening as Harry looked away and flattened his hair in front of his forehead.

"Hello, Mrs. Figg," Dudley said politely. "Who's your friend?"

"Oh that's Ha - Ha - Harvey," Arabella said quickly. Harry still avoided the Dursley's eyes. "He's a bit shy - he's my nephew and he comes to visit once in a while - right, well, we'd best be on our way. Good-bye Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, Dudley." Arabella and Harry walked away quickly, and when they had rounded the corner Harry let out his breath.

"That," he sighed, "was a close one."

"I'll say," Arabella said. "Rotten people - still up for that walk?"

"Not really," Harry shuddered. "With the Dursley's so close, I'd rather use Bubboter pus as Play dough."

"Yea..." Arabella let out a breath. "Let's just head back to my place for a while, then."

Harry nodded. "Okay," he said.

"Come on..." Arabella said. They took a shortcut through old Mr. Smith's backyard and ended up in Arabella's house.

"Oi," Harry said, sinking down onto the couch. "I hate them."

"You have every right," Arabella muttered. They began to talk of Puddlemere's chances at the Quidditch Cup, and before they knew it, it was noon.

"But of course if the Cannons lose to the Arrows - goodness, look at the time!" Arabella jumped up. "It's almost noon! Let's go see how old Moony's doing, eh?"

Harry's eyes lit. "Yes," he said. And with a few whirls of Floo powder they were gone.

Remus Lupin moaned as he opened his eyes groggily. He lay on the floor still, from his transformation. His whole body ached. He was cold. He shivered and slipped on his robes. He crawled over to his bed and got underneath the blankets. Turning his head to the clock on the wall, he saw that Arabella would be over with Harry any minute. Had he been lying there all morning?

He groaned softly as his stomach growled. Maybe he would try to keep down some soup later. Not now, anyway. The door creaked and Remus opened his eyelids just enough to see Harry and Arabella come in.

"Remus?" Arabella said testily, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Of course I'm not feeling okay," Remus muttered under his breath. "Do I really look like I'm feeling okay?"

"No," Arabella said quietly, putting her hand gently on his shoulder. "You look awful, but that's what I expected."

"Mmm..." Remus moaned. He felt a small hand enclose around his own. "Harry..." he said, smiling just a tiny bit.

"Moony," Harry whispered, smiling sadly.

Remus didn't say a word, but gathered all of his strength to open his eyes all the way. He saw Arabella and Harry right beside him. Harry still held his hand.

"Have fun, Harry?" he said as loudly as he could, which was just above a whisper.

"I missed you. We ran into the Dursleys."

"Stupid gits..." Remus sighed. Drained of all his energy, he closed his eyes again.

Harry stared at Remus. "I love you, Remus," he said quietly.

"I know, Harry," Remus said in a barely audible whisper. "I know."

"Harry? Harry! Do you have everything?" Remus called through the house.

"Remus, I can't find my new pack of Dungbombs!"

Remus sighed and shook his head, wondering how his mother had felt just before putting him on the Hogwarts Express the first time. "You mean you didn't set them all of already?"

"Oi! I was saving them!" Harry's voice cried.

"Ah... try under the pile of socks!"

There was a pause. "Which one?"

"The one you dumped on the floor yesterday!"

"Oh, right!" Harry ran down the stairs, Dungbombs in hand, a minute later. "Thanks."

"Whatever... do you have your wand?"

"Yes," Harry sighed, pulling it out of his pocket.

"Your robes?"

"In the trunk."

"Cauldron?"

"Also in the trunk."

"Books?"

"Trunk."

"Your trunk?"

"Ah..."

Remus rolled his eyes. "In the spare bedroom, under the potion bottles."

Harry started to turn around, but looked at him strangely. "Do you have a mental connection with all my stuff or something?"

Remus smiled. "No, after a while I just realized that some of the stuff I get you is too expensive for you to lose, so I decided to keep track of it rather than make you try to pester me into buying you another one."

"Are you saying I can't keep track of my things?"

"Yes," Remus smiled. "Yes, Harry, I am." Harry made a face as he bounded up the stairs. It was amazing, Remus thought, how much Harry had changed since he had started home-schooling him. Three short years and he had become a perfect carbon copy of his father. He was very subdued - until you got to know him, that is. Then it was like he was a whole different person - completely unafraid, mischievous and troublesome, but not to the point that it was irritating. He was sly and underhanded, but yet he still loved to cause a ruckus - almost all of his plans were flaw-free. He would go to any lengths to protect those he was close to - Remus considered himself lucky to be counted among those precious few. Yet there were two subjects he had always been a bit touchy on - his parents and Remus's - condition. They were sort of like a pimple - press him on it, and he would explode.

At that moment Harry came into sight, pulling his trunk breathlessly. "Come on, Harry," Remus said, rolling his eyes. "We'll need some Floo powder..."

Harry nodded. He dragged his trunk over to the fireplace while Remus lit a fire. "Platform 9 ¾," Remus instructed Harry. "I'll go first with the trunk, you come right behind me, okay?"

"Okay," Harry said, smiling at him.

"Oh - what about your owl?" Remus said, looking around. Harry reached under a table and pulled out his snowy white owl. Hedwig, he had named her.

"Got her," Harry grinned.

Remus rolled his eyes. He stood the trunk on his end and threw some Floo powder into the fireplace. Dragging trunk in, he said, "Platform 9 ¾!" With a pop he was gone. Harry, glancing around the living room one more time, followed him.

When Harry came out, he was in a mob full of people. Remus was waiting for him.

"That's the Hogwarts Express," he said, gesturing towards the large scarlet train. "It leaves in five minutes. Now, are you sure you have everything?"

"Yes, Remus," Harry said, his voice subdued just a tiny bit as he looked at all of the people bustling past them. Remus sighed.

"Harry," he said, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder. "This isn't going to be easy for you. It wasn't easy for me either."

"I'm - I'm going to miss you," Harry said quietly.

"I'm going to miss you too, Harry," Remus said. "Harry, just try your best. No one can blame you for anything if you just try your hardest."

"What if my best isn't good enough?"

"It will be, Harry. Trust me," Remus said. "It will be. By Christmas you won't even want to come back, but that's too bad, because I'm making you. It'll be so quiet without you."

The train whistled. "Harry, you've got to go. Owl me as soon as you get to your dormitory, and I'll see you at Christmas." Remus smiled. "Have fun."

"I - I will," Harry smiled nervously. He pulled his trunk aboard the train and stared out the window at Remus, who waved to him slightly. Harry smiled and waved back. The train began to go forward. Harry sighed and sat back. Hedwig hooted softly. Harry nuzzled her beak when Harry heard the door slide open. He looked up. A red-haired boy around his age walked in.

"Do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full," said the boy. Harry shrugged. The boy sat down across from him. "That's a nice owl," he said, gesturing towards Hedwig.

"Thanks," Harry smiled slightly. "My - my foster father bought it for me." Harry didn't really like calling Remus a foster father - he was so much more than that.

"Oh," the boy sighed. "All I've got is my brother's old rat, Scabbers." He patted his breast pocket. "All he does is sleep and eat."

"That's not so bad," Harry smiled. Somehow the rat looked familiar - like he had seen it in a photograph or something a very long time ago - maybe he would remember later.

"I'm Ron by the way - Ron Weasley," said the boy.

"Weasley... Weasley..." Harry pondered. "Oh! I know you!"

"You do?" Ron asked.

"Yes! You have... let's see... three, four, five brothers and a sister; your mother's name is Molly, and your father Arthur works for the Ministry. Isn't that right?"

"Y - yea," Ron said. "How did you - "

"Remus - that is, my guardian - was a few years above your oldest brother at Hogwarts," Harry explained.

"Oh - Remus - Remus - where have I heard that?" Ron thought. "Oh... Remus Lupin?"

"Yes," Harry said. "Do you know him?"

"No, but Bill told me all about him. He was best friends with Harry Potter's father." Ron snorted. "I don't know why everyone thinks he's so special. Harry Potter, I mean. He did a great thing, yes, but that doesn't mean everyone should worship the ground he walks on." Harry stared at him.

"Do - do people really worship m - I mean him like that?" Harry asked in disdain.

"Oh yea," Ron said, wrinkling his nose. "It's disgusting, really. What's your name, anyway?"

Harry looked down at Hedwig again. "I am Harry Potter," he muttered.

"YOU'RE HARRY POTTER???" Ron said loudly.

Harry went deeply red. "Yea," Harry mumbled. He took a book out of his trunk (The Advanced Dungbomb Handbook) and was about to begin pretending not to notice that Ron was there when Ron said something.

"You're - you're really Harry Potter?" he asked faintly.

"Yes," Harry said. As proof, Harry lifted his bangs so that Ron could see his lightning-bolt scar. Ron stared at him.

"But - but I always pictured Harry Potter as a celebrity," Ron said quietly. "A stuck-up git who had his house-elves roll down a scarlet carpet wherever he went." Harry, if possible, went redder.

"No way," he mumbled. "Remus and I wouldn't even be able to afford a house-elf." He began to go back to his book when Ron said something else.

"What's it like being Harry Potter?"

Harry made a face. "It's not any different from being Ron Weasley," he said, looking Ron in the eyes. "Everyone is different, but that doesn't necessarily make one person better than another. But if you mean not having anyone care about you or give a second glance at you once they see the scar - well, I'll tell you what it's like. It's like only two people on the world actually care about me. It's like having everyone else hate me. So if you don't mind - " Harry picked up his book again.

"Look, I'm sorry for what I said," Ron muttered. "I didn't know. And - well, this may seem stupid, but I never actually pictured Harry Potter as an orphan."

"I'm not an orphan," Harry snapped, shutting his book closed quickly. "I have Remus and Arabella."

"Whoa... sorry..." Ron said, backing away a little bit. "A little moody on that subject?"

"It's the truth," Harry said valiantly. "Remus and Arabella are the only ones that ever cared about me. Well, my parents did, but I can't remember that. And I've gotten used to that. So just don't bring it up and maybe we'll both get to Hogwarts with all limbs connected." Harry gave a frustrated sigh and reached to pick up his book.

"You're lucky," Ron muttered. "I wish I didn't have any brothers or sisters."

"No you don't," Harry mumbled, pausing and looking at him. "You'd get lonely in a blink of an eye."

"Why don't you?"

"Oh, I make my own fun," Harry shrugged. "Play Quidditch -"

"You play Quidditch?" Ron asked excitedly. "What's your team?"

"Puddlemere United. You?" Harry asked.

"Chudley Cannons," Ron said smugly. "And sometimes I play Keeper when we play with my brothers."

"Really? I play Seeker with Remus sometimes." Harry shrugged. "It's not a game, really. We just let loose some flying rocks for Bludgers and Remus enchants a crabapple for the Snitch."

"Bloody awesome," Ron exclaimed. "What else do you do when no one's around?"

"Well - sometimes I set off Dungbombs in the forest to scare the chipmunks - see, I've got some right here - " Harry pulled out the Dungbombs he had found under his socks.

"Aren't they on the list of forbidden objects at Hogwarts?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"Your point?" Harry shrugged.

"Wicked! You'd get along with Fred and George - that is, my twin brothers," Ron explained. "They're total ruckus-raisers."

"Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers?" Harry questioned, grinning.

"What?"

"Never mind," Harry said, shaking his head with silent laughter.

"Right - well, what house do you want to get into?" Ron asked.

"Oh, probably Gryffindor," Harry said quietly. "I mean to say - both my parents were in Gryffindor."

"Oh," Ron said quietly. "My whole family's been in Gryffindor, except my little sister, Ginny, but she's not at Hogwarts yet."

"Cool," Harry said, smiling just a little bit.

"Oi, what's that on your cheek?" Ron asked. Harry self-consciously put a hand up to his right cheek.

"Ah... just a scar," Harry said. "I - uh - had a run-in with some Muggles a few years ago."

"Ouch," Ron winced.

"Well, it wasn't really that bad, considering I went to visit Arabella that day, and she's an awesome mediwitch," Harry explained.

"Who is Arabella?" Ron questioned.

"What? Oh, right, she's - well - she - you could label her as foster mother, although that wouldn't be quite right, because her and Remus are more than foster parents," Harry explained. "They're just - them. They love me. Besides, I only really see Arabella once a month, because - " Harry cut off.

"Because why?"

"Because - because she works a lot," Harry lied quickly. "Yea, that's it, she works a lot."

"Oh," Ron said. "That's a shame." Just then a witch with a trolley came to their compartment.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" asked the witch sweetly.

"No thanks," Ron said, holding up a sandwich bag. "I'm all set."

"Just some pumpkin juice, please," Harry said, counting out twenty-nine Knuts. The witch smiled toothily as she took the Knuts and placed in his hand a flask of pumpkin juice. "Thank you," Harry said sweetly as she headed down the corridor.

"Oi, why don't you have any Sickles?" Ron asked, examining Harry's coin bag. "That's an awful lot of Knuts to be carrying around."

Harry paused again. The real reason why he didn't have any Sickles was because, of course, Remus couldn't touch them. "Gringotts goblins didn't have enough Sickles for change," he lied again. At that moment a brown-haired girl who was already wearing her Hogwarts robes came into the compartment.

"Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one," said the girl.

"No," Ron said disgustedly.

"No, sorry," Harry said, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice.

"Oh, that's a very nice owl," said the girl, gesturing towards Hedwig.

"So I've heard," Harry answered. Ron snorted.

"You don't have to be so irritable," the girl huffed. "I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger. Who are you two?"

"Ron Weasley," Ron answered.

"Harry - Harry Potter," Harry mumbled.

"You're Harry Potter?" exclaimed Hermione.

"Just lay off, okay?" Harry mumbled. "Just - lay off."

Hermione's mouth formed a perfect "o" of surprise. She closed her mouth abruptly. "Well," she said, "all I said was that you're Harry Potter. Pleasure to meet you."

"Right," Harry muttered, picking up his book.

"Well, anyway, we haven't seen the stupid toad, so you can leave now," Ron informed the Hermione girl.

"True," said the girl. "I'll be seeing you around then. Oh, and you might want to change into your robes, I expect we'll be arriving soon." Hermione left.

"What an idiot," Ron grumbled. "I wouldn't be surprised if she got into Slytherin."

"Nah," Harry said, forgetting his book. "She's more annoying than evil."

"Very true..." Ron mused. "Anyway, Harry, is it really true that your father knew Sirius Black?"

Harry scowled. Over the summer, Remus had finally gotten the nerve to tell Harry the whole story. Harry had been quite appalled, to say the least. "Don't - even - mention - that - thing," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"I'll take that as a yes," Ron mumbled.

"And you'd be right to," Harry mumbled, taking another sip of his pumpkin juice. There was silence for a while as Harry sighed.

"Exploding Snap?" Harry asked finally, pulling out a deck of cards.

"Sure," Ron replied, grinning.

And they played for the rest of the four-hour train ride.

When the train started to slow, they were at Hogsmeade station. Ron and Harry had long since changed into their robes. All traces of tension had been forgotten. They laughed together as they both got out of the compartment. Suddenly they heard a loud, booming voice. "Firs' years! Firs' years this way!" called a giant of a man.

"Who's that?" Ron asked, terrified.

"Why if it isn't little Harry," said the giant said less loudly as Harry and Ron approached.

"Hello... ah... Hagrid," Harry said, remembering the giant's name.

"I haven't seen you since you were a baby, Harry," Hagrid said.

"Big flying motorcycle? How could I forget?" Harry laughed. "It is good to see you again, Hagrid." Hagrid grinned widely at him and began calling out to the first years again.

"You know him?" Ron hissed in Harry's ear.

"Of course I know him," Harry hissed back. "He's been the gamekeeper here for almost fifty years!"

"Whoa," Ron said in amazement.

"This all the firs' years? Yes? Come on now, off yeh go!" Hagrid gestured them towards the lake. "Come on now, four ter a boat!"

Ron and Harry climbed into a boat. To their dismay, it was Hermione and the boy who had lost his toad who climbed into the boat next to them. Ron sighed and muttered, "What an idiot," into Harry's ear. Harry nodded vigorously.

"Well," Hermione said, "if it isn't Misters Leave-Me-Alone and Pretty-Owl. Horrid to be seeing you again."

"Not a Slytherin, eh, Harry?" Ron questioned under his breath.

"Remember what I said about that? I take it all back," Harry said.

Hermione huffed and turned away. Neville looked towards them.

"Holy cricket!" he exclaimed. "You're Harry Potter!" Harry went red as there was murmuring in the surrounding boats.

"Yes, and you're Neville Longbottom," Harry muttered. "Frank Longbottom's son. Pleased to meet you."

Neville shook his head and there was silence for the rest of the boat ride to the castle. There were various "oohs" and "ahs" from most of the students, but Harry had seen the castle various times before, and was therefore unaffected.

"Awesome!" Ron exclaimed softly.

"Yea," Harry mumbled. "Right..." His thoughts were elsewhere.

When they got to the castle, Hagrid handed them over to Professor McGonagall. Harry smiled warmly when he saw her - well, he couldn't be that homesick when there were people he knew everywhere.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," McGonagall said, looking at them all sternly. When she got to Harry she couldn't help but smile slightly. She quickly averted her gaze. "You are about to be sorted into your houses. The four houses are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and - Slytherin," McGonagall narrowed her eyes at a few people who were chuckling near the back of the crowd. "Now, while you are at Hogwarts, your house will be like your family. You will eat dinner and go to classes with your housemates, and your free time will be spent in your house common room.

"There is also the House Cup, a competition of the four houses. If you excel, you will earn house points, while any rule-breaking," McGonagall said, her eyes wandering to Harry, who smiled innocently, although McGonagall didn't buy it, "will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the House Cup, a great honor. In a moment you will join your classmates. Wait here." McGonagall turned her heel and left the room. One of the chucklers from the back came up to Harry.

"So," said the boy, his stone-gray eyes piercing Harry, "you're Harry Potter." Harry put on his sardonic smile.

"I don't believe we've been introduced," Harry said smoothly. "I am Harry Potter, and you are...?"

"Draco Malfoy," said the boy carefully. Ron sniggered and Harry smiled. "Think my name's funny, do you, Weasley? Potter, you may find that some wizards are better than others. I can help you there." Malfoy held out his hand, and Harry quelled the urge to put a nice fat Dungbomb in it.

"I don't believe I'll be needing any help there," Harry said coolly. "And if I did, I surely wouldn't ask you for it, now would I?" There was snickering in the crowd, and Malfoy went red with anger.

"Fine then," he spat. "Don't say I didn't offer." Harry rolled his eyes as Malfoy turned and walked off.

"What a Malfoy will do to get attention," Harry sighed.

"Mmm..." Ron said, scowling in Malfoy's direction.

Professor McGonagall returned. "You will follow me," she said sternly. The first years obeyed.

Harry stared in awe as the Sorting Hat finished its song. "Wow," he muttered to Ron.

"It's bloody awesome," Ron whispered back. Harry watched intently as McGonagall unrolled a scroll.

"Abbott, Hannah!" she said loudly. A pink-faced girl came up and sat timidly on the stool.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Boot, Terry!"

"Ravenclaw!"

"Brocklehurst, Mandy!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brown, Lavender!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The Gryffindor table cheered as Lavender walked down and sat at the end, smiling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Harry could hear hisses and boos throughout the crowd as the next boy, "Finch-Fletchley, Justin," sat on the stool.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Finnigan, Seamus!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Granger, Hermione!"

Ron and Harry watched in disgust as Granger ran up to the hat eagerly. "GRYFFINDOR!" it called. Granger smugly sat at the Gryffindor table. Harry and Ron groaned silently.

"Well, look at it this way," Harry hissed. "If we get into Gryffindor, it'll be easier for us to pull pranks on her!" Ron perked up a bit at this.

"Longbottom, Neville!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry cheered. Unfortunately, Neville forgot to take off the hat. The whole hall laughed as he ran back to hand it to the next boy.

The Sorting Ceremony went on. Unsurprisingly, Malfoy got into Slytherin. Finally, the moment came.

"Potter, Harry!"

Harry walked up to the stool nervously, trying not to take notice of the mumblings across the hall. He sat on the stool and McGonagall placed the hat on his head, giving him a small smile. Harry tried to smile back but failed. Darkness overcame him as the hat slipped over his eyes.

"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear. "Difficult, very difficult. Plenty of loyalty, especially to your family, I see, but you, a Hufflepuff? I don't think so... Ravenclaw, perhaps? You've definitely got the potential, but I somehow cannot see you fitting in there... You have quite a thirst to prove yourself... but you, Harry Potter, a Slytherin?"

Don't judge by that, Harry thought. I don't want to be a Slytherin, but just put me where I belong.

"Yes, of course... You definitely are brave enough for Gryffindor, that's true... you're not afraid to face anything that stands in your way... but on your way to what?"

I don't know.

"Of course you don't - but where shall I put you?"

Where I belong. Where I belong.

"I see... ah! What's this? You enjoy mischief... that is usually a Gryffindor quality, you know, those Gryffindors aren't afraid of being punished... well, I guess there's only one place for you, then. GRYFFINDOR!" Harry heard the last word ring throughout the hall. The Gryffindor table burst into applause. Harry sadly realized that his applause was much louder than everyone else's. He just sat down at the table quietly next to an older student with flaming red hair who was clapping politely.

"Hello," said the older boy. "I'm Percy Weasley. And I guess you're Harry Potter."

"Yea," Harry mumbled, looking up at Ron's apparent older brother. "That's me."

"I see you've met Ron?"

"Yea," Harry smiled.

"I do hope he gets into Gryffindor," Percy sighed. "Father will be so disappointed if he doesn't."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about it," Harry said offhandedly. "I've only known him for what, four hours, and he already seems like a Gryffindor."

"I hope so," Percy said worriedly. Finally it was Ron's turn.

"Weasley, Ronald!"

Ron, looking quite green, sat on the stool as McGonagall placed the hat on his head. The hat seemed to ponder on him for a moment, but at last shouted out a house.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry cheered along with the rest of the Gryffindors and ushered Ron to sit next to him as the last person was sorted.

"Good job," he said.

"You too," Ron smiled weakly, looking exhausted. "Boy, I can't wait for the food to get here."

Dumbledore stood up from the staff table. "Before we begin the feast, I would like to say a few words to you. And here they are! Nitwit, Blubber, Oddment, Tweak!"

"Thank you!" Dumbledore said as everyone burst into applause.

"Is he - a bit balmy?" Ron whispered to Harry.

"Dumbledore? Nah," Harry said as the food appeared. "A bit absent-minded, maybe, and definitely odd, but not balmy. He's a great man." Harry smiled up at the high table at Dumbledore, and Dumbledore raised his glass slightly in return. "He's pretty good at wizard chess, too."

"You've played wizard chess with Dumbledore?" Ron asked in awe. "I've heard he's the best there is!"

"Oh, no," Harry laughed. "Definitely not. He couldn't beat Remus if his life depended on it. I beat him a couple times myself."

"Whoa," Ron mumbled under his breath. "Awesome. Bloody awesome."

December 15, 1991

Harry and Ron rushed into DADA just as the late bell rang. They sighed in relief as they sat in their seats and waited for Professor Quirrell to come in. Instead, an odd-looking woman came in. "Hello class," she said. "Open your books to page - "

"Where's Professor Quirrell?" Dean Thomas asked. Everyone muttered in agreement.

"Professor Quirrell is indisposed," said the woman impatiently. "My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank. Now, open your books to page 254 and we can begin."

There was grumbling as they opened their books. Not that Quirrell was sick - he smelled of garlic and made Harry want to vomit every time he came close to him. It was that Grubbly-Plank didn't exactly seem like the nice type.

"Now, today's subject - how to treat a werewolf bite," said the professor. Harry froze. Ron looked at him strangely.

"Harry?" he hissed. "What's wrong?"

"Oh - nothing," Harry whispered back. "N - nothing."

Professor Grubbly-Plank obviously did not enjoy teaching this subject. "Werewolves are, of course, extremely Dark magical creatures." Harry winced and restrained himself to his chair. "As you well know, they come out and attack people on the full moon. They are extremely dangerous and should be eliminated." Harry clenched his fists tightly and bit his lip. "I am here to teach you how to defend yourselves against them. Are there any questions so far?"

Against all his common sense, Harry raised his hand. "Mr. Potter?"

"I have a question," Harry said angrily. "Why are people prejudiced against werewolves?"

There was utter silence in the classroom. You could have heard a pin drop. "It's judging people as a whole, isn't it?" Harry said loudly. "Well? Isn't it?" No one replied. "Yes, it is. You're judging them before you even know them! Has anyone in here ever gotten to know a werewolf? To find out how they feel? Has anyone ever given a second thought about them? ANYONE?" There was resounding silence. "I rest my case. It's just NOT FAIR!!!"

"Mister Potter!" Professor Grubbly-Plank explained. "Ten points from Gryffindor for disrupting class!"

"I'M NOT DISRUPTING CLASS!!!!!!!!!!" Harry shouted, pounding his fist on the desk. "I ASKED YOU A QUESTION, AND IT'S YOUR JOB AS A TEACHER TO ANSWER IT FOR ME!!!!!!! WHY ARE PEOPLE PREJUDICED AGAINST WEREWOLVES??????????????????"

"That's it!" Professor Grubbly-Plank exclaimed. "Come with me, Mister Potter!" Harry, fuming and not noticing Ron, not to mention the rest of the class, gaping at him, followed Professor Grubbly-Plank out of the classroom.

Harry was so out of his mind with fury that he didn't pay attention to where Grubbly-Plank had led him and barely realized that she had left. He looked up and bit his lip. Just the place he didn't want to be. Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore looked at him from behind his spectacles.

"Lemon drop, Harry?" Dumbledore said gently.

"No thanks, Professor," Harry said under his breath.

"Harry," Dumbledore said. "Professor Grubbly-Plank said something about disrupting class. Would you care to elaborate further?"

Harry, against all of the sense that had ever taken ahold of him, looked at Dumbledore angrily. "Do you believe that people should be persecuted for something that isn't their fault?"

"Of course not, Harry."

"That's all I said!" Harry exclaimed, throwing up his hands. "Why are people prejudiced against werewolves, Professor?"

"Ah," Dumbledore said in understanding. "This is about Remus, isn't it, Harry?"

"No," Harry said sternly. "Well... maybe. Yes," Harry conceded. "What am I supposed to do, just sit there and take all of the crap she throws at him? I can't do that, Dumbledore! I just can't! You're the one who sent me to live with him, and you wouldn't have let me if he were dangerous! He's a victim, not a monster! I feel like I'm the only one who can see through the mask! I could treat a werewolf bite with my eyes closed and my wand hand tied behind my back! I've known since I was four! She could just teach us how to do it and not degrade my entire life!"

"Harry, calm down," Dumbledore insisted. "Believe it or not, I've had three people in my office before for the same exact reason, and I've heard it all. I've even been called a stupid git for hiring a biased DADA teacher."

"Oh, and I suppose these three people were here because their teacher was insulting their best friend in the worst possible way?" Harry said angrily.

"Yes, they were," Dumbledore said calmly. "Do you know who those three people were, Harry? Your father, Peter Pettigrew, and, the least likely person in the world, Sirius Black were here for the exact same reason twenty years ago. I expected you today, Harry. I know what you're like. In some ways, you are just like your godfather, and in other ways, you are entirely different."

"I am not like him!" Harry shouted. "We're completely different!"

"In some ways, yes," Dumbledore said serenely. "But you both defend those you love. You both would have died for Remus, at some time or other. Both of you loved to cause mischief. And both of you are the only people, ever, in the history of the world, to yell at me. Not even James went as far as that. And I am not insulting you by telling you that you are like Sirius. He was an extremely good person for most of his life. And perhaps you should strive to be like him." Harry was silent. "You can go now, Harry, and you do not have to return to class. Actually, I forbid you to return to class. Every single lesson there ever is that involves werewolves I want you to stay far away from, as there's nothing they could teach you anyway. But I would suggest that you talk to Remus about this. You are going home for the holidays, I assume?"

"Of course," Harry blurted out.

"Christmas is a full moon, Harry."

"I know," Harry said uncomfortably. "I'm going to Arabella's, like I usually do. I would never think of passing up a chance to go home. Because that is home."

Dumbledore smiled at Harry sadly. "Remus needs you. He would have died a very long time ago had it not been for you."

Harry fidgeted and looked at his knees. "Everyone always says that."

"It's true."

"I know," Harry said quietly. "I know." Sighing, Harry got up. "Thanks, Professor."

"Happy Christmas, Harry."

"Happy Christmas," Harry mumbled. He left and dragged himself to Gryffindor tower and to his dormitory. He collapsed onto his bed and pulled a picture out of his drawer. It was of he, Remus, and Arabella on the day Harry had gotten his Hogwarts letter. Harry smiled and touched it lightly. At that moment Ron burst into the room.

"Harry, what was that about?" he exclaimed. "Everyone's talking about how you went bezerk! Even Granger is saying how insane you are, although that's not a huge change, but still, why'd you have to go off the deep end?"

"I didn't go off the deep end," Harry said, shoving the picture into his drawer. "What if I just said what I thought?"

"Harry, you're not saying you meant all that?" Ron said. "All that mumbo-jumbo about werewolves being good? You meant it?"

"And if I did?" Harry said angrily.

"Harry, that's - that's insane! I know you wanted to get Grubbly-Plank hacked off, but - but she's right! Werewolves are dangerous, Harry! They're Dark magic creatures!"

"They're not creatures!" Harry yelled. "Twenty-seven nights out of twenty-eight they're normal people, just like you and me!"

"No, they're not just like you and me! Harry, I don't think you understand... werewolves can kill people. They're not nice. Some of them joined forces with You-Know-Who."

"NOT ALL OF THEM DID!" Harry shouted. "They're victims! Werewolves aren't dangerous if they're careful about where they are when they transform!"

"Harry, that's just it!" Ron's voice started to get louder. "Werewolves don't care about where they are! They don't care if they kill anyone! They're vicious beasts!"

"How would you know?" Harry exclaimed. "Do you know a werewolf, Ron? Have you ever wondered how they feel about it?"

"Harry - this is just insane. You're acting like you're a werewolf, the way you're defending them!"

Harry almost felt steam pour out of his ears. "And if I was, not that I am, but you would abandon me completely, wouldn't you? You'd abandon me even after you knew that I wasn't a vicious beast! You'd abandon me even after you knew I didn't want to hurt anyone! Don't you see? Werewolves are misunderstood! And if you can't accept that then, well, then you should find a friend more like you - a friend who's biased against people they've never even met!" Harry stormed out of the room and collapsed onto a sofa in the common room. A few minutes later, someone approached him timidly.

"Potter?"

"Go away, Granger. I'm not in the mood," Harry grumbled.

"I - I heard what you were saying up there," Granger said, stepping into the firelight. "And you're totally right. It's wrong to be biased against people you don't know. And I'm sorry you and Weasley got in a fight. I'll go now."

Granger turned but Harry said, "Wait. Come back." Granger spun around and stared at Harry. "Sit," Harry gestured. Granger sat. "You - you really mean that?"

Granger made a sour face. "I may not be nice to you, but that doesn't mean I'm racist."

"I know that, I mean - you're really sorry that - that thing and I had a fight? Why would you care?"

"I'm not a terrible person, you know," Granger said. "Just because I don't worship the ground you walk on doesn't mean that - "

"You think I like that?" Harry said. "It's disgusting. I just want everyone to leave me alone."

"That's a reasonable goal," Granger said. "But it's who you are that makes that impossible."

Harry let those words sink in. "You know, Granger," he said, smiling slightly, "I'm beginning to wonder why I ever hated you in the first place."

"And I you, Potter."

Harry grinned. "Friends?"

Granger looked at Harry's outstretched hand and then at his face. "You just want to be my friend until Weasley stops hating you, and then you'll go back to hating me again."

Harry made a face. "No. Actually, I just want to be your friend. Is there something so wrong with that? And even if that thing ever forgives me, I'm never going to forgive him. He'll never know how hard he hit me. It feels like - like someone just slapped me across the face. I - I - " Harry couldn't find words.

Granger looked up. "You're not a - you couldn't be - could you?"

"Me?" Harry exclaimed. "No, not me... but, I guess you could say my other half. Someone really close to me. Someone I love. I guess you could say he's my best friend - but I can only be your friend if you realize that he's always my first priority." Harry looked up at her and waited for her to reply.

"I know what you mean," Granger said softly. "Friends." Granger took his hand and shook it. They smiled at each other. "One more thing - who is it?"

Harry's smile faded a little bit. "Wait here," he said quietly. He ran up the stairs and in a moment returned with a book in his hands. "I'll show you." He opened the book to the first page. A picture of a red-haired woman and a black-haired man was on the page. Harry touched the picture lightly and smiled. "My parents," he said. He turned the page. There was a picture of three people - two men and a woman. "This is - my family," Harry smiled. "The girl is Arabella Figg - I guess you could say she's my foster mother, but she's so much more than that to me. This is Mundungus Fletcher - he's sort of like my uncle, well, not exactly like my uncle, but he's awesome. And this," Harry pointed to the last man in the picture, who was smiling wearily, "this is Remus Lupin. He's my best friend. I live with him. He's - he's special to me. He'd do anything for me." Harry looked up. "It's him."

"You live with a - but where do you go when he - "

"Arabella's house," Harry said quietly. "You can't tell anyone, Hermione, do you understand? You can't tell a single living soul! I've never told anyone before, not even that Weasley, and you can't tell anyone now. You're sworn to secrecy. You understand how important this is, right? Please tell me you do, Hermione, please tell me you do."

Hermione nodded. "My lips are sealed," she said. "I swear."

"Thank you," Harry sighed. "Thank you."

"Did you think I'd tell?" Hermione said. "Like I said, I'm not racist."

"A lot of people don't understand what racist mean," Harry whispered. "They'd swear to the good Lord they're not racist, and then the next day they'll go out on a 'Down with the Werewolves' campaign and not think twice about it. I just don't understand why people can't just be kind to one another."

"Because there are bad people in the world, Harry," Hermione said. "And it's the good people's job to make sure that they don't overcome the world."

Harry smiled at Hermione. "Remind me again why we hated each other?"

"Well, you said, and I quote, 'Just lay off,'" Hermione laughed. "Usually that means you don't feel like talking to that person at that particular moment."

"That's true," Harry laughed. "Sorry about that."

"Sorry for being a prat."

"No, I was the prat, not you."

"Whatever," Hermione smiled. "We're friends now, right?"

"Right," Harry grinned. There was silence for a moment. "I'd better go," Harry said. "The train leaves early tomorrow. I'll see you in the morning?"

"Until then, Harry," Hermione smiled. She got up and walked up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. Harry sighed and went up to the boys' dormitory. The curtains around Weasley's bed were pulled, fortunately. Harry felt like throwing a very heavy object at the bed, but decided against it and climbed into bed, glad that at least he had one friend.

The next morning, Harry got up and noticed that Weasley's bed was empty. Great, I thought. He'll be at breakfast already. Harry made an unpleasant face as he got dressed. "I hate him," he said under his breath. He checked his trunk to make sure everything was packed, and seeing it was, walked down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Harry was lost in his own thoughts as he entered the Great Hall, and as a result ran into somebody. "Sorry," he muttered, looking up at the person. It was Fred Weasley.

"'S all right," Fred said. "I've been wanting to talk to you, Harry. Apparently Ron's not too happy with you right now. What'd you do?"

"I didn't do anything," Harry said. "And I hate him. Ask it for further details." Harry walked away. He sat next to Hermione and tried to avoid the fact that Ron was sitting five seats down.

"Hello, Harry," Hermione said cheerfully. "Are you going home for Christmas?"

"Yea," Harry smiled. "You?"

"My mum would kill me if I didn't," Hermione said.

"Great. We can sit together on the train," Harry said. He grabbed a piece of toast and popped it in his mouth.

"Do you always eat like that?" Hermione sighed.

"No," Harry said as he chewed thoughtfully. "Not at home. Remus would kill me."

"So you're only a pig at Hogwarts?"

"Pretty much." Harry swallowed and took a swig of pumpkin juice. "And at Arabella's house."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I have to go pack. I'll see you later, Harry." Hermione got up and left.

Harry shrugged and buttered another piece of toast. When he had finished eating, he threw a glare in the general direction of Ron. Ron made a face and turned away. Harry left the Great Hall, throwing another glare at the Slytherin table for good measure.

As Harry walked up to Gryffindor tower, he watched the paintings carefully. Some were talking to each other happily; others were glaring at each other. Harry finally got to the Fat Lady and muttered, "Pink daises." The portrait door opened and Harry walked in. He glumly walked up the stairs to his dorm. He threw his bedside picture into his trunk and closed it with a click. He dragged it down the stairs and into the common room. He sat back in a chair and closed his eyes. He was finally going home.

Harry had sat there for longer than he intended, for soon Hermione came down and told him to get a move on.

"That is, unless you want to run into Weasley," she added. Harry jumped up.

"No," he mumbled. He dragged his trunk out of the portrait and waited for Hermione to come after him. They walked down to the entrance hall in silence. Many other students were already climbing onto carriages. Harry and Hermione grabbed the next one and hauled their trunks into it. The door closed by itself and they started to move forward. Harry looked at his trunk and was silent.

"Harry, do you ever miss your parents?"

Harry looked up. "It's - it's not really my place to ask, but - "

"Yes," Harry said. He looked back down. "Sometimes. Remus is the next best thing I could have, but - if I could just see them once more - I'd do anything."

Hermione was silence. "Not that it's really any of my business, but I think they'd be happy that you're happy."

Harry looked up again. "You always know just what to say," he said. "Whether it's to cheer me up or to make me want to rip your head off, you always know exactly what to say."

"Thanks," Hermione smiled.

Harry smiled slightly. "Look, we're here." They lugged their trunks out of the carriage and Harry grabbed Hedwig's cage. "Let's find a compartment."

"Yea," Hermione said. They found an empty one at the end of the train. After shoving their luggage into it, they climbed in. Harry pulled out a pack of cards.

"Exploding Snap?" he asked.

"I don't know how to play," Hermione answered.

"You don't? It's easy," Harry said. "Let me show you." Harry and Hermione spent the rest of the train ride playing Exploding Snap.

When they finally got to Platform 9 ¾, they were laughing like maniacs. "I can't believe you beat me!" Harry exclaimed. "Beginner's luck!"

"Scorching off your eyebrows is more than luck - it's hilarious!" Hermione laughed. "Come on, let's go - there's no time for me to beat you again."

"Hey, I only lost five times! Okay, it was more like fifteen, maybe twenty-five..."

Hermione laughed. "Come on." Harry gatered up his cards and grabbed Hedwig's cage. He pushed his trunk out and Hermione followed suit. They both walked out of the compartment. Harry scanned the crowd for Remus. Finally spotting him, Harry nudged Hermione.

"Come on, you have to meet him," he said. Without waiting for her to reply, Harry grabbed both of their trunks and Hedwig's cage and pulled her in Remus's direction. "Remus!" he said, dropping both of the trunks.

"Harry," Remus smiled, ruffling Harry's already messy hair. "How are you? Was I right? Are you missing Hogwarts already?"

"I'm not missing classes," Harry said, wrinkling his nose. "Believe me, I could live for a while without them."

"Who's your friend?" Remus asked, nodding towards Hermione.

"Oh, Remus, this is Hermione. Hermione, Remus," Harry said.

"It's nice to meet you at last, Mr. Lupin," Hermione said politely. "Harry always talks about you."

"Oh?" Remus said suspiciously. "And what does he say? And please call me Remus, Mr. Lupin makes me feel old."

"Only good things, I assure you, ah - Remus," Hermione smiled.

"Good," Remus smiled. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Hermione, but Harry has a few visitors waiting for him at home."

"Who?" Harry asked, looking up at Remus.

"You'll see," Remus smiled.

"Okay... Hermione, I'll send you an owl, write back ASAP," Harry said. "Oh, and here's your trunk."

"Okay," Hermione smiled. "You'd better brush up on your Exploding Snap, Harry."

"Oh shut it," Harry said, but he smiled also. "Happy Christmas, Hermione."

"Happy Christmas, Harry," Hermione said as she grabbed her trunk and walked out of the Platform.

"What happened to Ron? Is he staying at Hogwarts?" Remus asked as they walked towards the Floo station.

"Yes, and I'd thank you not to mention the Ultimate Bastard at this moment. It ruins the whole karma," Harry said bitterly.

"Okay Harry, what's up?" Remus asked worriedly. "What happened?"

"Ronald Weasley happened," Harry said angrily. "Don't even ask." Harry grabbed a pinch of Floo powder and said, "Lupin's Lodge!" He disappeared. He was going home.

When Harry came through the fireplace he was immediately smothered. "Arabella!" Harry choked. "Must - breathe - "

Arabella let go of him and Harry took a deep breath, holding onto his ribs. "Well, you haven't changed a bit," Arabella said in a huff.

"All I did was go to school - you'd think I'd gone to Asia with your fuss," Harry said, but he smiled anyway.

"Harry!" said a voice from the corner. "How was Hogwarts?"

"Mundungus!" Harry exclaimed. "It was great!"

Mundungus stepped out from the corner. "I figured," he said. "Best place there is, Hogwarts."

"Not necessarily," Harry said. "Some of the teachers..."

"Some of the teachers what?" Remus said, coming out of the fireplace. "If it's Snape again I'll - "

"Remus, no!" Harry said. "No, it isn't Snape, well, he's always a git actually, but it's this Professor Grubbly-Plank, she's substituting for Quirrell - she's such a - a - I hate her," Harry said.

"What did she do?" Arabella asked warily.

"Ah... hmmm... well, you see..." Harry said. "She's not very nice. She brought me to Dumbledore's office."

"Harry, what did you do?" Mundungus ask suspiciously.

"And do we want to know?" Remus added.

"IT WAS JUST A QUESTION!" Harry shouted. "I HATE HER, I HATE HER, I HATE HER!!!"

"So, you asked her a question and she brought you to Dumbledore?" Mundungus asked. "Sounds like she's related to Snape."

"What question did you ask exactly, Harry?" Arabella said. Harry bit his lip and whispered something in her ear.

"Oh," she said. "Well, that makes a difference. And she brought you to Albus? What did he say about that?"

"He just told me to stay away from every class that mentions them and that I was like it, and you know what I mean by it, like the extreme bastard, and let me tell you I felt like slapping the old geezer."

"Harry, I get it," Arabella said.

"I don't," Mundungus said. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"IT WAS JUST A QUESTION!" Harry shouted. "AND SHE, AS A TEACHER, WAS SUPPOSED TO ANSWER IT!!!"

"Harry, COOL IT!" Arabella shouted. "Yes, it's a big deal, but no, I don't want you to crack my eardrums!"

Harry growled. "I hate her," he repeated. "I hate her, I hate her, I hate her."

"Why?" Remus and Mundungus said together. They stared at him intently. Harry looked nervous.

"Later," he sighed. "Just - not now."

"Okay," Remus sighed. "But you know I'm always here if you want to talk."

"I know," Harry said, fidgeting. "I know."