Revision! Revision! Revision!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter etc. etc. etc.

Warnings: Language, mentions of violence, and adult situations

Chapter One

Green eyes glared angrily at the moon from the window of a dingy East London apartment. Remus would be transforming alone tonight, again. Remus would be howling in pain, probably chained or locked up somewhere, if he was still alive. He damn well had better be alive, the young man thought. If I ever go back to Hogwarts only to find that the Moony has been taken down, Dumbledore will have Hell to pay. Assuming Harry ever saw Dumbledore again. Right then it was hard to imagine that ever happening. The truth of his innocence and that of the others coming to light was so unlikely to him that he could not even dream of it. He couldn't imagine what Dumbledore would say to them to make things better. Nothing could make it better. Betrayal and distrust were knives that cut deep. When the world turned on their savior and threw him to the wolves could he ever really want to turn back and save them from themselves? Was such forgiveness and self-sacrifice truly humanly possible? Harry wasn't sure.

Sometimes he wanted nothing more than to go back to Hogwarts and resume his classes like nothing had ever happened. He didn't want to be filled with such dark emotions as hate, and anger, and sadness, and regret, nor shame, nor helplessness, nor fear.

His hate froze in his heart and mind for Tom Riddle, whom Harry knew to be the source of this entire cluster-fuck. Voldemort (though Harry refused to call him even that anymore) had set him and his friends up without a doubt. The man wanted to make a point of how many ways he could destroy the boy who lived. He sent nightmares displaying the deaths of Harry's loved ones that were impossible for Harry to label. Real, or fake? He could never tell. He had lost count of how many times Remus, Ron, and Hermione had died now, and the rest of the Weasleys, and Neville, and a slew of people he didn't know. More than any of them he saw Dumbledore. He watched them all die over and over and over again, deaths quick and painless or slow and excruciating.

Harry didn't like feeling that hate. He didn't like the cold stillness it washed him in. He didn't like seeing the people he cared for die time and time again, making him hate even more. Most of all he didn't like how he felt less for Dumbledore's death than for people he didn't even know. He didn't like how his perfectly justifiable anger at Albus Dumbledore was being used to make him hate himself. Because even angry as he was, hurt as he was, the Headmaster's safety still mattered to him. He didn't like how it felt like the man shouldn't matter. He didn't like how he was often angrier at himself for caring than he was at the old man who condemned him

On that wretched day, Albus Dumbledore had done nothing to help them. He had followed the precession of Aurors and Ministry officials solemnly, but that was all. The corridors had been lined with people, all shouting obscenities and sobbing onto each other's shoulders. Harry had taken it silently with his head held high, for as long as he could bear; then he'd began cursing them all back. Not with magic, but in Parsletounge, and that raging, frantic hissing was all it had taken for the world to declare him You-Know-Who's rival, the next Dark Lord. Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and Justin Finch-Fetchley were his merry band of rebels. If left to their own devices how many other children would die? For the sake of the school the Headmaster had to get rid of them. He dare not stand up for them when none of them had an alibi better than 'I can't remember where I was.' Admittedly, if he had he would have been replaced immediately.

That night all five teenagers had been chained together as they walked through the entrance hall and out onto the grounds. Ron had been shouting their innocence at first, but was soon overcome the futility of it all, and began screaming inanely about traitors and being framed as he jerked the other four of them in all directions. Neville had been crying and red faced, as they walked the hallways, glaring defiantly ahead as best he could having ended up next to Ron, and being jerked around the most. Harry was next to him, in the center, glowering - and hissing in the end. Luna was next to him, tears streaming down her face, her eyes glazed and unfocused. She'd retreated as far as she could without getting lost, and Justin was on the end, pale, shaking, and obviously in shock, though no one seemed to care.

Remus on the other hand, Remus had been there, at the very end. He'd run through the main doors to the castle just after the parade had turned the corner, pale and glaring, growling. Despite it being two weeks to the full moon, and usually his most stable time of the month, he was snarling, his eyes were tinted amber. And his hands were shaped to claws, ready to rip and tear despite there being fingernails and nothing sharper on his fingertips.

The sight of him had quieted those in the area almost immediately, and his low, threatening voice had rung through the hall. The one adult to defend them (though Hermione and various others had been yelling and trying in vain to give them hugs of reassurance), and truly the only one left to trust in Harry's mind. Everybody else's parents had been there staring betrayed or accusingly. Neville's Gran had been as imposing and stone-faced as ever. But Harry's parent had defended. And that had been the last time the green eyed boy cried. Not once since then, when a furious hiss died on his lips and tears streamed down his face and he screamed for Moony to help him, had he cried.

They'd escaped the Aurors of course. Although none of them were really sure what had been going on that night, they had managed to blast their way out of their restraining compartment with a powerful burst of accidental magic and into the one holding their trunks. Without a thought or glance to each other they gathered their most valued items and any and all money they had into their school bags, grabbed each other to steady themselves and disappeared.

After a few disconcerting moments they recognized their destination as an alley next to Gringotts in Diagon Alley, and quickly ran inside, before word of their arrest could be spread. Nobody really cared to wonder how they had gotten away until much later when it was decided that accidental magic must have been the cause. None of them knew how to apparate of course, so it was the only logical explanation.

It was blessing and nothing more. Though Luna once mused to Harry that one of them could have had a portkey and not known about it. "Perhaps one of us made one in a dream and carried it with us."

They left less than an hour later with several thousand muggle pounds and a third that amount in galleons. Harry and Neville immediately took charge and everyone was rushing to shops to gather any supplies they might need as quickly as possible. Luna ran to Florish and Blotts, quite certain that they would need to continue their educations, while Ron acquired enchanted backpacks. Justin bought a rather large wizard's tent incase they needed to hide out in the middle of nowhere, Neville guessed everyone's sizes for temporary muggle clothing, and Harry waited in the alley watching their things, and concocting a very sketchy plan. They fled, found an empty alley two blocks from Charringcross Road, and distributed their purchases before catching a bus and getting as far away as they could.

It hadn't taken them long, really, to decide that London was far safer than the country. In the country they'd have to keep moving in order to go unnoticed. In London they just another little band of homeless kids, and that suited them all just fine. They would be invisible and anonymous, merely extras in the background.

Luna got decent money every now and then singing in karaoke contests held by a run down club just a mile away, and Harry sold a few drawings to various people: an art store, a tattoo shop where a large man with a taste for good art worked and offered to give Harry and his friends free piercings if they wanted them, and a number of their neighbors - including a little old lady who just adored Harry's pictures of Hedwig, Errol, and Pig. He also did some work for an old businessman that he was reluctant to speak of.

Neville often took the bus out to the suburbs where he offered to weed people's gardens for a small price, and Ron had taken to making the commute to the fish yard (a decision which greatly annoyed his flat mates because he came home smelling strongly of fish a little too frequently for their tastes).

Justin unofficially worked at the local supermarket moving boxes off and onto trucks (while nicking bits of food now and then). It was decided early on that they would save their money for emergencies, which were thankfully, uncommon, but every now and then they were forced to dig out a few pounds to help with the rent. For the most part all was well. That is until they began to go their separate ways.

Ron was the first to go. One of other fish market frequenters was looking for a flat mate and the opportunity of escape was far too inviting. The others hadn't complained and immediately saw the benefits of distancing them selves from each other. If one of them were caught and Veritaserum used none of them really wanted to rat out the others, nor did they want to be ratted out.

Neville went next, having won the favor of an old woman with an award winning garden (or so Neville said). She'd been doting on the boy ever since he'd asked how she kept her begonias in such good condition despite the cold.

Luna had found a small club near Charringcross Road owned by a young woman who was willing to pay her a better salary, and rent her a room. It was going to be tight, but Luna thought she could find a job in one of the nearby restaurants for the opportunity to be so near the Leaky Cauldron. She was of the opinion that it would be best to keep an eye on the place and have Diagon Alley at a properly disguised hand.

By his birthday, Harry and Justin were the only two left in the old apartment, and their money alone couldn't pay the rent.

Justin took the tent, determined to sell it to a second-hand shop in Diagon Alley, and get a smaller single person tent to replace it with. He'd decided to cross the channel and take his chances on the continent. The tent would come in handy if he needed to travel on foot. Harry took a bedroll and a pillow out of the tent before the other boy left, and told the landlord they were leaving.

Luna stared thoughtfully out the window of her bedroom. It was a small and dirty window, but it looked right onto the Leaky Cauldron's muggle doorway, and that was why she'd agreed to room with Amy. She didn't like the girl, but Jessica's window looked into an alley, and the alley was no where near as interesting as the pub. Luckily for her, Amy didn't like having her bed under the window so she was in her own space when she decided to watch.

The pub was especially interesting today, and Luna wondered why. When the crowd died down she'd get dressed, do her make-up and cross the street with a book so she looked unobtrusive as she eavesdropped. But for now it was enough to watch and wonder. Maybe Fudge had let his heliopaths loose, or maybe Dumbledore had finally offed Moldy-Git…She allowed her self to dream awhile before dismissing the thought. It was Harry who'd do that after all, which is really a horrible thing to think, but all things considered it was hard not too. Harry Potter was the only person to ever escape from Lord Voldemort unharmed. An impressive feat.

Luna had yet to actually have anyone confirm her suspicions, but she was fairly certain Cornelius Fudge was no longer the Minister of Magic. Months, and months ago, Luna had overheard someone talking about how glad they were that Fudge was gone. At least she thought so, she'd just left and the door had been nearly shut behind her.

After breakfast, Luna took a shower, and got dressed. Just as she was deciding which book to take with her (Occlusion Confusion by Kimberly Collindiffer or Becoming One with Your Inner Muggle by Arthur Kanin) she heard a heart-wrenchingly familiar sound. Blinking in surprise, she put her books back in the backpack they'd come from and turned around. There was an owl tapping on her window.

Remus Lupin sighed as he reached the gargoyle. He really did not want to talk to the headmaster at the moment, but he didn't really have a choice. The man was making a grievous error, and Remus would not allow this one, not when the last concerning the family in question had had such horrible consequences.

Remus had been reluctant to hide the situation from 'the trio of miracles' about Harry Potter, and now that the truth about the young man had come out, he would not allow Dumbledore to do what he was planning to do. If Harry were to come back to Hogwarts, as his self-appointed godfather (after Sirius that is, but Sirius hadn't been there had he?), Remus would not, could not allow Albus to leave his godson in the dark.

Using those thoughts to add some much needed steel to his back bone, the werewolf gave the password ("war heads") and began climbing the stairs to the Headmaster's Office. He reapplied that steel as he raised his hand, and heard a nearly cheerful "come in" before his knuckles hit the wood.

"Hello, Albus," he said as he entered the room. The aging headmaster was sitting behind his large desk, quill in hand, and a large stack of parchment before him.

"Hello, hello, Remus. How may I help you today? Care for a lemon drop? Some tea perhaps?" Clearly Albus was focusing on the up-side of yesterday's shocking news. Much as Remus wished he could do the same, Harry Potter had not murdered Crabbe and Goyle Jr.'s, and was now who knows where. It was the second part of that sentence that was upsetting. He had known the first all along.

Dumbledore didn't deserve to be so happy about this. He should have been lamenting his mistakes, wallowing in despair and wondering what Harry was going to do to him.

Calmly as he could, Remus replied, "I came to talk to you, and no thank you - on both accounts."

The other man must have picked up on the underlying tone in his former student's voice as he quickly put down the quill, and sobered. "And what is it you have come to talk to me about?" he asked quietly.

With a sigh, Remus began, "Albus, I know that you think it would be a nice surprise for all involved, to have Harry arrive in the Great Hall for Christmas without any idea of what he'll find, but I beg to differ.

This is big news Albus." He continued imploringly. "This is important, this is what Harry has always dreamed of, I'm sure, and he will need time to prepare for the shock of seeing Lily and James." Albus opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced with a hand.

"With all due respect, sir, Harry is not likely to take kindly to any of us after what happened -- you least of all, really. And to withhold something like this…Albus, do you realize just how much he's already lost because you decided to withhold information for his own good? Aside from the prophecy, he might have actually tried to learn Occlumency if he'd known why you wanted him to learn it. He might not have minded Snape so much if you had only told him why he was learning it from him. And it's partially because he didn't learn Occlumency that Sirius died.

"And, again, disregarding all that, you accused him of murder!" Remus' ended that sentence in a yell despite all he had done to control it. "He's not likely to trust you at all anymore, Albus," he continued calmly, but his voice cracked and thickened as he voiced his next thought.

"And really, if he's not dead by now I'd be surprised if he came back. You don't want to loose whatever trust he may display in returning. I advise you to tell Harry about his parents, but I am telling them about Harry. And I almost hope they tear you apart, because if Harry's still Harry, he won't" And with that the werewolf stood and left with the dredges of his self control, greatly needing to hit something.

As he wandered the hallways glowering, he wondered who he would tell first, and quickly settled for Sirius. There wouldn't be near as much to say there, and Sirius would jump him for sure. He would be able to hit Padfoot without guilt if Paddy were hitting him back.

Neville laughed in glee, reading the letter. Just five minutes ago, an extremely ruffled and obviously confused owl had arrived at the small, ground-level basement window. When he saw the Hogwarts crest around the bird's ankle, he almost hadn't let it in. Now, though the round faced young man was glad he had.

With a joyful whoop, he tore a piece of paper out of his journal, grabbed a pen, and settled down to write the requested reply.

The bloody bird was still there. It hadn't left yet, and Ron was becoming annoyed. There was no bloody way in hell he was going to accept a letter from Dumbledore, but the bird hadn't moved in the last hour. And his eyes were getting tired.

"You stubborn, bloody prat!" Cassie exclaimed hitting him with a rolled up newspaper. "You've been staring at the bird since it showed up. Are you going to take the letter, or not?"

"No way am I going to take that thing!" he said, nearly shouting as he turned to look at his girlfriend and flat mate. "It's probably covered in tracking spells."

The blonde glared at his reasoning, then smiled and tapped her hand with the rolled up newspaper/weapon.

"What do you know" he asked suspiciously, "that I don't?"

She didn't say anything, but shoved the newspaper into his hands, and sat back on the couch, arms and legs crossed, with a smirk the size of Britain. Either it was something very good, and she was acting like that because even when he was the one to take the paper and pay the owl, he never once glanced at the headlines or read anything it contained, or there was nothing, and she just felt like being an arse.

Most of the time she felt like being an arse, so Ron had no reason to suspect the former.

However, when she continued to stare at him with that ever so maddening smirk, he growled and unrolled the paper. With a 'happy now' glance (that was responded with an 'in a moment' raise of the eyebrow) he read, and promptly fainted.

Cassie smiled softly as the tall, somewhat imposing, red head fell off his stool, and moved to the window. Not in any real hurry she leaned against the sill for a moment, staring at the owl perched on the fire escape rail.

"You'd better bring good stuff, you bloody bird," she whispered. The owl only ruffled its feathers and continued to sit, dignified and vain, until she opened the window.

Justin ran over to the tree the second he saw the tawny nocturnal bird sitting amongst the reddening leaves. Once he noticed the seal on the envelope however he paused, not sure if he really wanted to open it. He'd seen the Daily Prophet (Headlined: Boy-Who-Lived and Co. Framed! Frantic Ministry and Albus Dumbledore Beg Forgiveness), but he couldn't really think of what Dumbledore might have to say other than 'I'm sorry.' But Justin was certain he didn't want to hear that. It wouldn't really mean anything to hear that, he thought.

With a sigh, the young man glanced down at his watch to find that his lunch was almost over. With a withering, wary glance at the owl he turned around.

"Go stay in the barn," he said to the bird. "I'll be up there later to give my reply."

Luna smiled her trademark dreamy smile when she reached the end of her letter.

It appeared she wouldn't need to be unobtrusive today. She smiled at the thought as she picked out some more 'her' clothing. She hadn't worn anything that truly suited her in years, and she was glad to finally come out of hiding. Happily bouncing from foot to foot, Luna switched shirts and spent ten minutes digging out her radish earrings and bronze vault key.

She had some shopping to do!

So, what do you guys think? This must be the third time I've posted a version of this story, but I still like it, it's still collecting dust on my hard drive, and it's still unfinished, so I figured what the hell! Review!!!!