Sirius and Remus Lupin-Black, of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, were proud to say that they were outstandingly individual, thank you very much. They were the first people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they simply thrived upon such fascinations.

Sirius was head auror at the Auror Office, which enforced wizarding law. He was a stocky man with hair as untamed as his limbs, though he groomed a rather large moustache. Remus was gangly and pale and had agility beyond compare, which came in very useful as he spent so much time rushing around and trying to keep the house in order, tidying Sirius' mess. The Lupin-Blacks had a small adopted son called Harry and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere.

The Lupin-Blacks had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone find out the truth about Harry. Harry was the son of James and Lily Potter, though they were no longer alive, because they, along with their infant son Harry, had been as outstandingly individual as it was possible to be. The Lupin-Blacks shuddered to think what the Ministry would say if they knew the true whereabouts of Harry Potter. The Lupin-Blacks knew that Harry was in danger in more ways than one, but they were determined to keep him hidden from the magical world until he came of age. They didn't want Harry mixing in a world like that.

When Sirius and Remus woke up on on the dull, grey Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening on their doorstep. Sirius hummed as he picked out the same brown tie for work and Remus chattered away happily as he settled a grumbling Harry into his high chair. None of them noticed a large tawny owl flutter past the window.

At half past eight, Sirius picked up his briefcase, pecked Remus on the cheek and planted a kiss on Harry's forehead goodbye, dodging a flying bowl of mashed pumpkin that Harry had tossed across the room playfully. 'Just like James,' sniggered Sirius as he left the kitchen. He flooed to the Ministry and arrived in his office.

It was on his first job of the day, tracking Antonin Dolohov, that he noticed the first sign of something strange - Kingsley asked how Harry was doing. For a second, Sirius faltered before swiftly responding that he hadn't heard anything from the muggles Harry was staying with. Kingsley had a glint in his eye that worried Sirius, but when he responded easily, Sirius couldn't help but wonder. Why had he been so paranoid? It must be all the bad feelings going around these past weeks, he shook it off and proceeded with his work. As he went on he thought of nothing except the long list of Death Eaters he was hoping to arrest that day.

But when they arrived in Surrey, Death Eaters were pushed to the back of his mind by something else. As he started patrolling the area, he couldn't help but notice the way his colleagues were behaving. Behaving as though they knew something he didn't. Sirius couldn't bear being kept in the dark, not about anything at all. Sirius tried to ignore the feeling in his gut, but his ears fell on the quiet conversation of Alistair and Kingsley in the next room. They were whispering cautiously to one another. Sirius became increasingly concerned when he heard them mention the name Potter, and he tried to focus on their words before he was distracted by a rattling of a cupboard doorknob across the room, his mind returned to deatheaters.

Sirius always kept his focus on whomever he was trying to accost. If he hadn't, he might have heard the continued whisperings of his colleagues all the through that morning. They couldn't seem to think about anything else. Sirius, however, had a perfectly normal, Potter-free morning. He caught two different deatheaters. He made several important communications with the Ministry and led to the arrest of some more. He was in a rather good mood until they returned to the Ministry and he ventured to the staff canteen in search of food.

He'd forgotten all about the whisperings of his colleagues until he passed a table of aurors that quietened as he passed. He drew in a sharp breath and focused on getting something to eat. They returned eagerly to their conversation as soon as he was out of ear shot. It was on his way to sit at the table next to them that he caught a few words of what they were saying.

'The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard -'

'yes, their son, Harry -'

Sirius stopped dead. Fear flooded him. He looked at the seat he was about to take before shaking his head and dropping his meal into the bin before returning to his office.

He dashed upstairs, told his colleagues he wasn't to be disturbed, and slammed his door shut before reaching for the floo powder with the intent to call home when he changed his mind. He dropped the powder back into the pot and ran his fingers through his hair, thinking … no, he was being stupid. Remus wouldn't let the boy out of his sight. He was sure there was plenty of explanation for the entire Ministry of Magic to be talking about his adopted son. They were on the cover of the Daily Prophet this morning after all. There was no point in worrying Remus, he always got concerned for Harry's safety. Sirius couldn't blame him - he was worried too.

He found it a lot harder to focus on his work that afternoon, and when he left the building at five o'clock, h was still so worried that he walked straight into the Minister of Magic.

'Sorry,' he mumbled, as Millicent Bagnold stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Sirius realised quite who it was he had walked into. She didn't seem too concerned with having been almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, her face split into a wry smile and she uttered in a considerately cheery voice that startled Sirius a little: 'Don't be sorry, my dear Mr Black, nothing could possibly go wrong today! Be glad, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even as we grieve, we must celebrate this happy, happy day.'

And she patted Sirius charmingly upon the shoulder before walking off.

Sirius stood rooted to the spot. He had just spoken to the Minister of Magic, though he couldn't be sure why. He was rattled. He hurried back into his office and flooed home, hoping he was dramatising things, which he had never hoped before, because he had spent his entire life disputing his reputation as a drama queen.

As he arrived in the living room of Grimmauld Place, the first thing he saw - and it didn't improve his mood - was a Ministry owl. It was sitting on the window sill. He wasn't interested in whatever it was trying to deliver.

'Shoo!' said Sirius loudly.

The owl didn't move. It just tapped its foot impatiently. Were owls usually this persistent, Sirius wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he yanked the letter from the bird's beak before venturing into the kitchen, the envelope tucked in his jacket pocket. He was still determined not to mention anything to Remus.

Remus had had a nice, normal day. He told Sirius over dinner all about Alice and Frank's young boy and how Harry had learnt a new word ('Muggle'). Sirius tried to act normally. When Harry had been put to bed, he went into the living-room hoping to read the Daily Prophet:

'Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, is under Ministry protection and his location is not to be disclosed. Although he is the hero of the wizarding world, nobody has heard news of the boy since he was confirmed alive. The Ministry have yet to release a statement.' The photo inset was of James and Lily with their son, it had only been taken a few weeks ago. 'What are the ministry hiding?'

Flipping the page, the next article read: 'The Boy Who Lived: Dark Forces At Work? Experts at the Ministry have been unable to explain how a mere infant could survive the Killing Curse. This boy is obviously more than a regular young wizard, and the Ministry ought to be concerned.'

Sirius sat frozen in his armchair. Questions about Harry's whereabouts? Accusations of dark magic? Whisperings throughout the ministry? And what Kingsley had asked earlier, about how Harry was doing …

Remus came into the living room carrying two cups of butterbeer. It was no good. Sirius would have to say something. He cleared his throat nervously. 'Er - Remus, love - you haven't heard anything about Harry today, have you?'

As he had expected, Remus looked startled and worried. After all, they had vowed never to mention Harry to the outside world.

'No.' Remus said bluntly. 'Why?'

'Strange stuff at work today,' Sirius mumbled. 'About James and Lily … about Harry … and everyone was acting strangely around me today …'

"So?" questioned Remus.

"Well, I just thought … maybe … somehow somebody had found something out about … you know … where he is."

Remus sipped his butterbeer through thin lips. Sirius wondered whether he dared tell him about what Kingsley had asked. He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, 'There's no way anyone else could've known about this, is there?'

'No, of course not.' said Remus dryly.

'Peter didn't know, did he? James didn't tell him?'

'No, Lily told him not to. Said we could only trust Dumbledore.'

'So Dumbledore knows?' asked Sirius, heart sinking horribly. 'Well that seems reasonable.'

Was he making false assumptions? Could all of this be down to Dumbledore? If it did, if they'd been betrayed - well, he didn't think he could bear it.

The Lupin-Blacks got into bed. Remus fell asleep quickly, but Sirius lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if Dumbledore did know, there was no reason for him to betray the Lupin-Blacks. Dumbledore knew very well that they would do whatever was best for Harry … he couldn't' see how Albus might see an alternative. He yawned and turned over. It wouldn't change anything …

How very wrong he was.

Sirius might have drifting into an uneasy sleep, but he was rudely awoken by the sound of the floo downstairs. He shot up quickly, grabbing his wand before padding slowly out of the bedroom and across the landing. He didn't so much as quiver when he heard the clearing of someone's throat, nor when he saw the living room light turned on as he made his way down the stairs.

Entering the room, he saw the familiar stature of Minerva McGonagall, so calm and confident as though she had been invited. Sirius' wand twitched in his hand as he lowered it slightly.

Minerva hadn't been to the house in weeks, not since the last order meeting before James and Lily went into hiding. She was tall, thin and steadily ageing, judging by the streaks of grey in her hair. She was wearing long robes, an emerald cloak which swept the carpet and high-heeled buckled boots. Her green eyes were light, bright and sparkling behind square spectacles and her nose was short and button-like.

Minerva didn't seem to realise that she had just arrived in a house where everything from her name to her boots was unwelcome. She was busy rummaging in her cloak, looking for something. But she did seem to realise that Sirius was less than happy to see her. For some reason, the expression on Sirius' face seemed to amuse her. She chuckled and muttered, 'Ever the host, Sirius.'

She had found what she was looking for in her inside pocket. It seemed to be an envelope. She brandished it, held it out in front of her and glanced expectantly at Sirius. When he didn't take the letter, she rolled her eyes and nodded, almost expectantly, at his hostility. Mcgonagall slipped the envelope back inside her cloak and took a seat in the armchair.

'I know you weren't hoping to hear from me, Sirius.'

She lifted her head to smile at the young man, but he had gone. Instead she was smiling at a rather severe-looing Remus who was wearing a set of pinstripe pyjamas and a tired expression. His light brown hair was untidy. He looked distinctly ruffled.

'What can we do for you at this time of night, Minerva?' Remus asked.

'My dear Remus, I think you know.'

'I think we both know that your being here is a problem.' said Remus.

'It is the only way, Remus. We must talk, or the entire wizarding world will talk for us.'

'The entire wizarding world?' He scoffed impatiently. 'You'd think they'd be a little more considerable, but no - even the Ministry have let lose to celebrate. It's in the Daily Prophet.'

He jerked his head towards the mantel where a photo of him, Sirius, James and Lily stood proudly. 'Celebrating the death of You-Know-Who as if it means we have no reason to grieve. Dedalus Diggle sent us an invitation to his party today, the cheek of that man.'

'You can't blame them.' Minerva said gently. 'We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years.'

'I know that,' said Remus sharply. 'But that's no reason to pretend people aren't still suffering. People are being downright careless, pretending nobody died at all!'

He threw a coarse glance towards Minerva though he couldn't hold it as Sirius entered the room with the three tankards of butterbeer, handing them around before settling across from the witch. 'A fine thing it'd be, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, people pay their respects to those who died to make it happen. I suppose he is really gone, Minerva?'

'It certainly seems so,' said McGonagall. 'We have much to be thankful for. Now, perhaps we should talk about why I'm really here.'

'Yes, we should,' answered Sirius coldly, as though there was nothing he would like less. 'So, Dumbledore told you -'

'My dear Sirius, Lily told me. With all this nonsense about confundus charms, she thought it best to rely upon someone less … likely to be targeted.' Professor McGonagall hesitated, both men understood her reluctance to doubt Dumbledore. 'It would have been far more dangerous to tell him than me.' 'I have never seen any reason to tell anyone.'

'I know you haven't,' said Professor McGonagall, sounding half-exasperated, half-admiring. 'But you need people. Everyone in the Order knew that you were determined to do everything without help from anybody else.'

'You flatter me,' said Sirius sarcastically. 'The word you desire is stubborn.'

'Only because you hate to burden those you love.'

'It's lucky Remus is here. I haven't been so tempted to embrace a woman since Lily told me she agreed I was handsome.'

Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes and said 'The rumours are nothing to the truths that will be exposed. You know what people are saying? That the boy's to be kept in Azkaban until he's of age? That he's to be treated like a danger to our world?'

It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting until the middle of the night to speak to the two men. It was clear that whatever concerned her most, she was not going to let it go until she had been reassured. Sirius and Remus, however were sipping their beverages casually and did not respond.

'What they're saying,' she pressed on, 'is that the boy must have used dark magic to protect himself. That Lily and James had used dark charms to keep him safe.'

Sirius arched an eyebrow almost unbelievingly at Minerva. She let out a heavy breath in relief.

'I knew … it wouldn't be anything like that … but a plan needs to be made … Remus, please see reason.'

Remus reached across the gap between them and patted her knee reassuringly. 'I know … I know we do …' He said reluctantly.

Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. 'That's not all. Albus is entertaining the idea it's true. He's saying that good people do desperate things, and he believes that Harry needs to be kept away from the magical world. We have to keep him in the dark, I am willing to lie. Lily entrusted the boy's safety to the three of us, but, are the both of you?'

'Is there any question.' Sirius uttered without hesitation.

'So, he will be told that the boy is staying with Lily's muggle sister?' questioned Professor McGonagall. 'After all he's done … all the people he has helped … how could he stoop to doubting those in the Order? It's unbelievable … of all the things to shake his faith … but how will we keep him in the dark?'

'We can only do our best,' said Remus. 'We may fail, but we must try.'

Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Remus gave a great sniff as he caught sight on the clock on the mantel. It was a rather special clock; a gift from the Weasleys. It had six hands but no numbers, instead, place names lined the edge. It made perfect sense to Remus, though as he rose from his seat and said, 'Harry's awake. I suppose I'd best check on him, shall I?'

'I'll go,' said Sirius. 'You stay here with Minerva, talk more about the plan.'

'Are you happy to raise the boy, both of you, Remus?' Minerva asked, as Sirius padded up the stairs to check on the infant.

'There's no question of him going anywhere else. We're the only family he has.'

'You're certainly right about that; I went to see those Dursleys and they are utterly dreadful. They're the worst kind of mugs. Harry couldn't possibly live there.'

'And that is why …' Sirius began, as he re-entered the room with a gurgling little boy in his arms. 'he won't be.'

'But how will we keep him hidden?' questioned Professor McGonagall faintly, leaning back in the chair. 'He'll be famous - a legend - I wouldn't be surprised if today is known as Harry Potter Day in future - there will be books written about Harry - every child in our world will know his name!'

'Exactly,' said Sirius, looking very seriously towards her. 'We will disappear. We won't be the only ones, plenty will. He cannot be famous, not before he's strong enough to defend himself. He will grow up away from it all, until he's ready.'

Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed and then said, 'Yes, yes you're right, of course. But how will you explain your disappearance to the Order … to the Ministry?' She eyed the infant cautiously as she spoke.

'That's where you come in.'

'You think it - wise - to entrust the task to one person alone?'

'There is nobody more reliable.' said Sirius.

'Flattered as I am, Sirius,' said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, 'do you really think me capable to it?'

A low gurgling had broken the quiet of the room. It grew steadily louder as they looked, all three of them, towards the small boy in Sirius' lap; it swelled to a wail as the infant's face reddened.

If the boy was slight, his size could not be compared to the noise emerging from him. He was barely the length of Sirius' forearm, barely more than a stone heavy. Remus rose without reluctance and slipped out to the kitchen to bottle a feed before returning and passing the milk to his husband. The boy taking the bottle readily in his own two hands and suckling eagerly as his wails subsided.

'The wee bairn,' said Minerva, with a warm heart. 'He hasn't a clue.'

'Nor will he,' Remus interjected calmly, his hand resting on Sirius' shoulder as he spoke. 'We will make sure that he remains clueless until he is ready.'

McGonagall leant forward to eye the boy gleefully. Amongst the bundle of blankets, was a gleeful and red-faced young child. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped scar, like a bolt of lightning.

'Is that where -?' whispered Professor McGonagall.

'Yes,' said Sirius. 'He'll have that scar for ever.'

'Won't it make him … more noticeable, Sirius?'

'Perhaps, but not in the muggle world, not where we're going. Well, if that's all Minerva, we've got packing to do, and you've got a rumour to spread.'

Remus took Harry in his arms and stood to take him back to his crib.

'May I - if I'm not to see the boy again for a decade?' asked Minerva.

Rising from her chair, she crossed the take the boy in her arms. Then, suddenly, bit back a meager whimper.

'There, there, Minerva. It's best this way.' Remus offered with a wry smile and a pat of her upper arm.

'Sorry,' sniffled McGonagall, blinking back tears. 'I can't bear to think of it - Lily and James dead - and poor young Harry hidden from the world he saved -'

'It's dreadful, but it's the only way forward.' Sirius added softly as he gingerly took a hold of the boy and drew back. He watched as the boy drifted easily to sleep, tucked comfortably in his godfather's arms. For a full minute, the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Minerva's cheeks dampened, Remus smiled wryly and the familiar mischievous smirk residing on Sirius' face seemed to falter.

'Well,' said Minerva finally, 'that's that. We've no business dragging it out. We may as well get on with what we have to.'

'Yeah.' said Remus in a slightly softened voice. 'We'd best get to packing. G'night Minerva.'

Drawing in a deep breath, Remus exited the room silently.

'We'll send news as often as we can, which won't be often at all, I expect, Minerva,' said Sirius, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall bit her lip in reply.

Sirius straightened up and walked towards the door frame, pausing to watch the woman cross to the fireplace and take a handful of floo powder. She drew in a deep breath, caught one last glimpse of the young boy who would soon be a legend, and cast the powder down beneath her feet before uttering 'The Three Broomsticks'.

'Good Luck Harry,' she murmured. Stepping out into the empty pub before exhaling heavily.

A chill ruffled the curtains of 12 Grimmauld Place, even with the windows closed, and this would be the most noise the house would host for some years. Harry Potter rolled over inside his crib without waking up. One small hand closed on the blanket his mother had made for him and he slept on, not knowing she was gone, not knowing his life was a disaster waiting to happen, not knowing he would be taken from his crib in a few hours time by his godfather as they left their home for the very last time, nor that he would never see the peculiar lady from downstairs again. He couldn't know that at this very moment, he was preparing to be hidden from a world where people all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices 'To Harry Potter - the boy who killed You-Know-Who.'