This is my new story! Duh. Hope you enjoy! Review the first chapter, please; I'd like to get some feedback. Let's assume that Remus is a half-blood and well integrated with muggles, so he has modern (80's) appliances like phones and a stereo.

Part of this story is based in Paris, so French will be spoken. I'm in French 4 (about to go into AP, baby! Woo!) so the translations should be accurate. If any of you speak French fluently and want to correct me, let me know!

I own nothing that you recognize, pretty much. I wish I did, but that hasn't gotten me anywhere yet. JKR is the owner and creator of any Harry Potter references and Mother Goose owns the nursery rhymes, I suppose. I know the nursery rhymes at the beginning don't make sense, but they will in time. Just enjoy the little recap to childhood and ignore the symbolism until I explain them better. Onward!


Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall.

Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

All the king's horses and all the king's men

Couldn't put Humpty together again.


Halloween, 1981

"They're…dead?" the brown haired youth shook his head in disbelief. "But…how?" The young man turned to his friend sharply. "How did this happen? WHAT DID YOU DO?!" He suddenly felt like he was going to be sick.

The other young man was sitting across from the first, crumpled on the floor in emotional agony. "I don't know!" he wailed, holding his black haired head in his hands. "I don't know…" he repeated, whispering this time.

It was a long time before either of them moved both hidden deep within their own thoughts.

"You weren't the secret keeper, were you?" The first man raised his hopeful chocolate eyes to stare into pale gray ones.

"No." The word was whispered, but it was like he had shouted it. "Oh, my God, Moony. What are we going to do?"

Remus Lupin felt tears welling up in his eyes. "I don't know," he murmured. "God, Padfoot…I just don't know."

Sirius Black was, for the first time in his life, at a loss for words. He sat up and looped his arms around his knees, staring at the wall, looking at nothing.

"We'll have to make some calls," Remus said softly, always the practical one. "Jesus, Sirius, what about Harry? Didn't you say you went to the house? What happened to Harry?" The questions were flying out of his mouth without any censorship.

"Hagrid came and took him, he said Dumbledore was going to take care of it," Sirius croaked, feeling much older than his twenty-one years. "You can't make any calls until you meet with Dumbledore. You know the rules: the order first, everything else second." He laughed without humor. "I'm sure they'll contact you. When they do, go straight to them and don't tell anyone anything except Dumbledore. Apparently Peter wasn't the only scumbag infiltrating the order…" he trailed off.

Remus looked at his shaggy haired friend for a moment. "We, Sirius."

Sirius looked up. "What?"

"You kept saying 'you should do…' we can do these things. Together. After that bastard," his voice shook from anger at the fourth marauder, "after he did this to James and Lily, we need to work together to set things right."

Sirius shook his head sadly and didn't say anything. Suddenly Remus understood.

"They all think you're the secret-keeper, don't they? No one but you and I know that Peter…" He paused, the feeling of loss in the pit of his stomach. "They're coming for you, aren't they?"

The silence lasted centuries.

"Yes."


Three months later.

After Sirius had been taken to Azkaban for the murder of James and Lily Potter, Remus Lupin fell into a deep depression. Every person who he had been close to was gone: James, Lily, Sirius, his parents, even Peter. He had found solace in the bottle and, until recently, hadn't thought it was a problem. When he realized that he couldn't survive the day without being thoroughly hammered he knew it was time to stop. He crawled his way to sobriety sip by sip; he had very nearly kicked the habit. Now getting rid of the tempting bottles in his kitchen was all he had left to do. At the moment he was finding this extremely difficult.

Today he was sitting on his threadbare couch, willing himself to focus on the words on the pages in front of him and not the nearly empty bottles in the kitchen sink. He had made up his mind half a dozen times to go and try to visit Sirius and formulate a plan, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Despite the conversation Sirius and he had had before Sirius had gone to confront Wormtail, Remus couldn't help but think that maybe Sirius had turned to the dark side, and maybe he didn't want to know the truth anymore.

Making up his mind, Remus stood up and let several pieces of parchment flutter to the floor from his lap. Going to the sink, he picked up the offending bottles of firewiskey, mead, and even some muggle tequila, and poured them all down the sink. It's time to start over, he thought to himself. No more drinking, no more sulking, no more pitying yourself. Time to get this under control.

With James and Lily dead, Dumbledore helplessly busy with order business and Peter being a complete and utter traitor, Remus' options for help on this endeavor were few and far between. Still, he had to try. There was only one other person in the world he could trust with this undertaking and he was reluctant to contact her.

Sighing, he picked up the phone and dialed.


Jaida Durand was not in a good mood. Not only had she ripped three pairs of nylons this morning and because of this missed her daily cup of coffee, she had arrived at the wrong court house (late, of course) because her completely useless secretary had written the number down wrong. Now, several hours later, she was back at her flat waiting for a call from her boss who was surely going to chastise her for being late for one of the most important cases she was handling. To top it all off, today was the three month anniversary of something horrific and terrible that she didn't care to think about but was constantly on her mind.

Cupping her hands around the warm mug of raspberry tea she was nursing, the young witch was staring at the phone, willing it not to ring. If he doesn't fire me, I'll take on double the cases for the same pay, she thought to herself. Tucking a lock of short, black hair behind one ear, Jaida began thinking about how lucky she was to have her job with one of Paris' most important wizarding law firms.

At the age of twenty-one, Jaida had been working there for three years. Receiving top marks in her N.E.W.T.'s from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a fairly prestigious law firm in Paris had contacted her shortly after graduation and offered her a job. She packed up and moved away quickly, desperate to get away from a bad breakup she had just endured from a five-year relationship, and had lived there ever since. The only downfall of this was the fact that she very rarely saw any of her best friends from school.

Now, unfortunately, barely any of them were left to visit. Sirius Black was in Azkaban for betraying James and Lily Potter (who were dead), as well as the fate of Peter Pettigrew (who was dead). Her parents had lived in England, and several followers of Voldemort had found out where they were hiding (they're dead); Marlene McKinnon, Dorcas Meadowes, and Gideon and Fabian Prewett had been discovered working for the order (and are dead). So, after that very long list of tragedies and painful deaths of her best friends, that left…

Jaida felt a lump rise in her throat at the thought; Remus Lupin, her first and only love, was the only friend she had left, and after their horrible split she doubted very much that he would still consider her a friend. She sighed, still staring at the phone. After receiving news of James and Lily's deaths, she had toyed with the idea of contacting Remus. Professor Dumbledore, however, had advised her against this when they talked about whether or not Sirius was the traitor. Dumbledore had insisted that he was while Jaida was unsure. She tried to rid her mind

Their last conversation had been devastating when Dumbledore had told her of the Potter's and Sirius. She took off a week from work (something she would never dream of doing usually) and was unable to leave her bed for the entire week. To her surprise, Dumbledore had showed up on her doorstep one evening in November; she was less than ecstatic to see him…


"Miss Durand," Dumbledore said with his blue eyes sad and tired. "I have some most unfortunate news. May I be so bold as to invite myself into your living room? It is unwise to linger on doorsteps." Dazed, Jaida stepped aside and conjured up some tea for her and her old professor to share.

"What could be worse than the news you brought me last time, Professor?" Jaida had muttered, stirring her tea absent mindedly.

Dumbledore smiled a grave smile; he got straight to the point. "Miss Durand, as you know, you are rightfully Harry Potter's godmother." Jaida stared at him. She knew, of course. She had been there to witness his birth and Lily had been her best friend at school. "Sirius Black is his godfather but, considering the circumstances…" Dumbledore trailed off, looking awkward.

"Where is Harry staying now?" Jaida asked, unsure where this conversation was going.

"With Lily's sister, Petunia," Dumbledore said reluctantly. "I am so sorry to have to tell you this, Jaida, but you cannot evoke your right as godmother and take Harry Potter into your care." Jaida opened her mouth to argue but Dumbledore cut her off. "It would be extremely unwise for you to do so. Because of certain charms I have bestowed upon him, Harry is much safer with his aunt and uncle than anywhere else."

"Have you met Petunia and Vernon?" Jaida practically shouted. "They're completely awful, they—"

"I am fully aware of their…circumstances," Dumbledore interrupted. "There are things about this awful situation that even I don't understand, Miss Durand. I am so very sorry; I know you were hoping to be able to raise Harry here in France…"

Jaida blinked, angry at the tears that had welled up in her eyes. Brushing one away angrily she spoke quietly. "Why are you really here, professor?" Dumbledore looked up in surprise. "We both know you could have sent anyone from the order to tell me this. There was something else you needed to talk to me about that you didn't want to get into the wrong hands."

Dumbledore smiled dryly. "You are every bit as quick as you were at school, Miss Durand. You are correct; this is not all I have come to talk about." Jaida nodded, encouraging him to continue. "As you very well know, we have a traitor in the Order of the Phoenix. That being said, I am extremely worried that you are in danger. I am here to urge you to take refuge with the order."

Jaida stared. "Why would I be in danger?" She asked slowly.

Dumbledore didn't answer right away. He seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. "The followers that call themselves Death Eaters found your parents very quickly, Jaida. I am sure that they know you are in the order—"

"Was," Jaida corrected quickly. "I was in the order."

"That you were in the order, then," Dumbledore said, smelling defeat. "We have brought many people into hiding; it would be so simple for you to just disappear. I know you are devoted to your job and have settled down here in Paris, but—"

"I can't leave, professor," Jaida interrupted again. "I have my whole life here now. My job and the life I developed here in Paris are all I have now. I'm not in the order, my entire family and group of friends are gone…this is all I have. I can't just abandon it for a group that I dropped allegiance to two years ago."

Dumbledore looked at her, his eyes piercing. "You're sure?"

"Very."

"I can't truthfully say that I expected anything different. You are one of a kind, Jaida Durand. Please remember that my door is always open, should you need anything. If you decide you would like to accept my offer, you need only send word." Dumbledore stood and went to the door and stood in the doorway.

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate the offer." Jaida shook his outstretched hand and waved as he walked away and disappeared on the spot. Jaida closed the door and slumped down it, frowning. "At least life can't get any worse," she reasoned aloud.


Jaida jumped from her reverie as her phone rang loudly. Taking a deep breath to prepare herself and apply her best French accent, she reached out and picked up the heavy receiver.

"Âllo?"

"Acceptez-vous un coup de fil pour Remus Lupin au Londre, Angleterre?"

"I…what?" Jaida was confused. What in the world is Remus doing calling me?!

The robotic voice didn't comprehend reluctance to talk to an ex-boyfriend.

"Acceptez-vous un coup de fil pour Remus Lupin—"

"Oui, je suppose…" Jaida interrupted the robotic voice reluctantly.

A small click indicated that she and Remus were alone on the line. Neither one spoke for several seconds.

"Hey, Jade," Remus' deep, soothing voice finally vibrated through the phone cords. Jaida felt herself being pulled back to seventeen again.

"Hey, Remus," Jaida answered. "Um…why are you calling me collect?" Remus didn't answer right away. "Remus?"

"I need your help, Jade," Remus ignored her question. Jaida felt her chest constrict, willing herself not to get caught up in her memories of him. She could still smell the musky, forest scent that was uniquely Remus and practically felt him close his eyes and sigh. "It's about Sirius."


A/N: Je voudrais feedback, s'il vous plaît? Est-ce que vous aimez mon Franglais? Je vous remercie de lecture! Au revoir!