For Harry

Title: For Harry (2/?)

Author: Wickedest Witch

Email: [email protected]

Category: romance/humor

Keywords: Ron, Hermione, Remus, Sirius, 5^th year

Rating: pg-13

Spoilers: All Four Books

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Summary: Harry needs protection from Voldemort. And everybody, from Mrs. Figg to Snape, is going to help. But nobody besides Sirius and Remus will be reliving their childhood, by disguising themselves as students so they never have to leave his side.

Note: Big thank you to Windangel for letting me use the idea of the de-aging potion. Also thanks to Arabella for beta-ing.

“What are you doing here?” Harry practically cried. It was bad enough he had to see Snape during the year, but during the summer, too?

Snape just smirked and downed the rest of his water.

“You know,” Harry said authoritatively, “my cousin hates anything to do with our world.”

His professor regarded him. “And am I, or am I not, dressed appropriately?”

Harry bit his lip and studied Snape's outfit. On anyone else it would seem normal, but he was so used to seeing his teacher in plain black robes. He was wearing black boots, which seemed normal enough. But he also had on a pair of blue jeans and a tan t-shirt with “The Beatles” printed across the front. And to top it off, his hair was in a ponytail.

“Do you even know who the Beatles are?”

Snape gave no response.

“Mrs. Figg, my babysitter, she's a Muggle and knows nothing of us.” Harry paused with a determined look on his face. “And she will start to wonder who you are and why you are here.”

To this, Snape gave the first full-fledged laugh that Harry had ever seen coming from him.

“Arabella Figg,” he said after his laugh had stopped. “A Muggle! My god,” he added, shaking his head. Harry just glared at this. “Well, if she's a Muggle,” Snape said patronizingly, “then she certainly did a marvelous job of hiding it for the seven years she taught me charms.”

Harry gaped at his potion professor for almost an entire minute.

“Mrs. Figg,” he said in amazement, “a witch?” He shook his head. “You,” he finally said decisively, “are lying.”

Snape looked insulted at Harry's reply. “Mr. Potter, despite the fact the term has not started, practically threatening a teacher will almost certainly result in a deduction of points from Gryffindor.”

“Of course,” Harry muttered darkly. “Probably getting antsy without the opportunity to take points from Gryffindor every day.”

“Harry!” Mrs. Figg's angry voice came from the doorway leading to the sitting room. “Apologize to Severus this instant. I will not allow rudeness in my home.”

“No need, Arabella,” Snape said smoothly. “I'm quite used to Potter's disobedience.”

Harry just stared at his babysitter, a look of utter disbelief on his face. He tried to form a response but was interrupted by three new figures appearing in the kitchen.

“Honestly. What is holding this meeting up?” It was his transfiguration teacher, Professor McGonagall, along with Arthur Weasley and Remus Lupin.

“Potter, here,” Snape answered quickly, “has a problem believing that Arabella is a witch.”

“Well, Mr. Potter, she is one. And,” she added gesturing frantically, “You-Know-Who-”

“You mean Voldemort, Minerva,” Remus interrupted with a smirk on his face. McGonagall and Mr. Weasley both gave small jerks at the sound of his name.

“-okay, Voldemort, is not going to delay his plans simply because ours are not ready.”

She turned sharply and led everyone, including Harry, due to a small gesture on Remus' part, into the sitting room. In there were many more wizards, many of whom Harry did not know, but also Mrs. Weasley, Professor Flitwick, and Dumbledore.

“Hello, Harry,” Dumbledore said jovially.

“Hello.” Harry's response was extremely feeble.

“Your trunk is packed?” asked the headmaster. Harry nodded. “Good! Arabella, would you mind bringing it down?”

“Of course not.” Mrs. Figg hurried into the kitchen and up the stairs.

A wizard unknown to Harry started talking. “The key,” he said firmly, “to destroying You-Know-Who-”

“No, I don't. Who?”

That question was from Dumbledore, which resulted in a stern “Albus!” from Professor McGonagall, as if she was addressing one of her students.

'Yes, yes,” the first wizard said, dismissing the Headmaster's comment with a wave of the hand. “The key-”

“Wait a minute,” Harry said, when he seemed to get back the strength to speak. “Where am I going?” The wizard who had just been interrupted for the second time snorted, muttering something about “over-egotistical wizards.”

“You are going to be living with me and, uh, Snuffles,” Remus said, “for the rest of the summer. Technically he can't take care of you, so we thought this might be best.” His old Defense teacher broke off, looking a bit uncertain. “You don't mind, do you?”

Harry grinned. “Not at all.”

“Here's your trunk Harry,” Mrs. Figg said as she re-entered the room. She handed him a small brown box the size of a small rock. “I shrank it,” she added, seeing Harry's puzzled expression.

“Oh.”

“Come on, Harry,” Remus said, gesturing to the fireplace. “We should be going.”

“Now?” He sighed. “Alright.” Harry turned to Mrs. Figg. “Thank you for letting me stay here the past few days.”

His babysitter smiled. “No problem, Harry. Anytime.”

Remus handed Harry some Floo powder. “When you jump in, shout 'The Den' clearly.” He paused and smiled. “Otherwise you may end up in poor Mrs. Leven's kitchen.”

Harry walked to Mrs. Figg's stone fireplace, a bit uneasy. He still was not particularly fond of this form of transportation. But, the sooner he did it, the sooner it was finished. So with a small “Bye” and a wave, Harry threw the powder into the fire and jumped in, shouting “The Den” as clearly as he could.