A - I own none of the characters, they all belong to J.K Rowling.

B - I am going to let this fiction roll as it pleases, see where it takes us.

C- I hope to see you all in future chapters.

The musky scent of stale tobacco and Firewhisky engulfed Harry's nostrils into a clogged frenzy. His eyes began to water at the stench and despite the bitter July night, the light drizzle stirring from an oncoming rain cloud and the sharp lash of mile per hour winds against his bare forearms, Harry could not will himself into resting his head against the tattered jacket of the man named Mundungus Fletcher. It was becoming a regular occurrence for Harry to randomly disappear through some strange manner or transportation from his Aunt and Uncle's house every summer, to only ever wind up back at the Weasley's house, sporting a tale of adventures and most often misfortunes. This time however, his tale was filled with dread, near death experiences and expulsion. Harry remembered little of the attack. However one feeling remained; a familiar feeling of despair and unhappiness, and Harry wasn't sure if this feeling stemmed from the presence and attack of Dementor's on Little Whinging or due to the reality of what he was soon to face: Expulsion from Hogwarts, never being able to use magic and never seeing his friends again. As he shifted himself into yet another groin crunching position on the back of the bandy broomstick, his arms clutched unbearably to the greasy jacket of a man claiming to be "a friend of Dumbledore's", Harry wondered if life would ever be the same again and if there was a possibility that maybe, just maybe Hagrid would allow him to come train as a groundskeeper.

The arrival at Grimmauled Place, of which Harry later learned was to be the upcoming headquarters for secret meetings and plots against the reign of Voldemort, could be described as eccentric, loud and emotional. The old house creaked every few inches, once and a while a miniature dust cloud would erupt from the teacups and cracked china set and Harry could have sworn he saw a family of door mice scurrying to and from the kitchen to the cellar. Nothing however, not even the piercing screech of Mrs Black, Sirius's mother, could drown out the horrified roars unleashed from Harry and Sirius in unison.

"Palaver street!" Sirius barked, slamming a hand against the wooden table, "You want Harry Potter, the boy who lived, my godson - to spend his entire summer cooked up in Palaver street, with those… those…"

"With your friend Sirius." Professor Dumbledore claimed.

A dark looked crossed Sirius brow and Harry couldn't help but notice the funny look plaguing his godfather's features. Sirius crossed his arms.

"There's absolutely no way this is acceptable, and as much as I respect your opinion, Dumbledore, my duties to care for Harry cannot allow me bring this misfortune upon him."

Dumbledore cocked an eyebrow, eyeing Sirius's stubborn posture over his half moon spectacles. "Then you see fit he reside here?"

"I do."

"You see fit he spend his entire summer cooked up in a dusty aged house, cleaning and battling with treacherous tantrums from portraits? You feel it necessary to put your godson's life at risk in a house whose boundaries are so unformed that even the powers of a first year could surpass them?"

Sirius's posture faltered. He glanced to Harry, then shaking his head, silently agreed with Dumbledore's decision.

"Then it is settled, he will leave immediately."

Harry gawped. "I have no say?" he demanded, glaring at Dumbledore, "After all I've been through: Dementor's, expulsion, worry , you decide that just like a light my faith lies in your hands and you feel free to ship me off to just about anywhere?"

"I feel that your safety, as my student and as your Headmaster, for the next three years, that yes, your faith lies within my hands. I also feel, Harry that, nothing eases a paining head more than a good dose of lemon sweetness." From within his pocket, Professor Dumbledore produced a bronze tin of Sherbet Lemons.

Harry, to confused and annoyed by the situation, ignored Dumbledore's offering, and instead shook his head. " I don't understand." he said, "I broke the rules. I used underage magic. I showed myself in front of Dudley, a muggle, I -I…"

"I think it best Harry, if you come to realise that not very often things work to our favour and then when they do, for unknown reasons at that, it is best left un-questioned. Now while I arrange transportation, do sit and enjoy the warmth and sweetness of a well deserved cup of tea. "

Professor Dumbledore exited the dusty kitchen, humming tunelessly to himself. Sirius pulled up a seat next to Harry and poked wordlessly at the splintering table.

"It's good to see you again, Harry. Even beneath these circumstances." he said, keeping his gaze on the table.

Harry mimicked his actions, picking at the other side of the table. "You too, Sirius. You look really well, despite your circumstances." Harry noted a glum look replacing the light blush to Sirius's face.

"It's only the thoughts of war that keep me sane, Harry. I know that must sound odd to you, but if it weren't for Voldemort's sudden rise to power, this house would remain idle. Now that he's back, I have company."

"I understand. Sometimes, I feel that way too." Harry agreed. "Like, when I'm at the Dursley's, the only time I ever get to see friends any bit earlier than start of term is if there's a problem - I get thrown out, dementor attacks, being rescued by flying cars because they barricaded my window shut."

"Flying cars?"

Harry smiled. "My second year. Ron and his twin brothers, Fred and George, they hadn't heard from me all summer and presumed the worse, so they rescued me in an enchanted Ford Angula. My uncle fell out the window and everything."

Sirius let out a bark of laughter and Harry was pleased to see the sadness leave his eyes. It wasn't very often these days that Harry smiled. His nights were still haunted by echoing cries from the tri-wizard tournament. The terrified look etched across the marble face of a dead Cedric Diggory washed in and out of focus every night, almost close enough for Harry to reach, but then quickly snatched away by that familiar green light.

"Why were there Dementor's in Little Whinging? Aren't they supposed to be confined to Azkaban?"

Sirius nodded, pushing a cup of tea toward Harry. "I don't know Harry, I honestly cannot answer that. I've had little contact with anyone, except for Dumbledore and a few order members. Mostly talks of charms and enchantments to seal this house are what I hear of. I hear little of much importance Harry, very little."

Silence fell about the kitchen again and Harry stared into the empty fire grate. He knew how Sirius felt, all to well. No one ever felt that Harry was old enough to know the truth, everyone kept the important things from him, as if in some hope that they would go away. They never did though, they only duplicated. His mind wondered for the first time to Palaver street. What was this place? Who lived there? Why was he going there? And why was Sirius so angry about Harry going there? Before he had the opportunity to ask his godfather any of these questions, Dumbledore returned to the kitchen.

"Well that's all settled then, we shall leave now. Do come along Harry."

Harry glanced to Sirius, who nodded. "Sirius?"

"Owl me, won't you?" Sirius said, rising from the chair. "Whenever you can, whenever you want. With any questions, any news, anything."

Harry stood in front of him, shocked almost to silence by the pleading tone from his godfather. He nodded. "I'll owl all the time. Wait up for it."

An awkward moment blanketed the room. Harry's fingers twitched at his sides, Sirius bit his bottom lip, and glanced awkwardly towards Dumbledore, who to no one's surprise, stood quite happily, fingers crossed on his ribs, smiling at both.

Sirius cleared his throat. "Right then, you'd best be off. To beat traffic."

"Come along Harry." said Dumbledore, leading him from the kitchen and up the steps to the main entrance. "Grab my arm, good man. On three now, say your goodbyes for now. 1 … 2 …"

"You'll visit, won't you Sirius!" Harry yelled down the corridor.

"3."

A loud pop and what felt like being hugged by Ms Weasley, and Harry found himself standing in the middle of a street. It was long and cramped and disappeared in a bend at both ends. Harry, rather dazed and confused by what happened, sung wildly around. Dumbledore towered alongside him, smiling brightly.

"Welcome to Palaver Street, Mr. Potter," he said.

The floor was made of greyish cobblestones and ever 3 or 4 metres an old fashioned street lamp hung. In front of him the shops looked modern. Harry spotted a post office, a medical centre, a sweet shop, a book shop and what looked very like a lingerie shop for women. Behind him there was a set of black railings with pointed tops, the ones used to prevent trespasser, a heavy duty gate sealed with a massive padlocked barred the entrance to what Harry made out as a playground. He could see beyond the big yellow slide and red swing set a stretch of field and in the distance, a set of head lights, from what Harry could only assume was a motorway.

"What just happened?" Harry asked, still looking quickly up and down the street, as if expecting to be suddenly ambushed. His eyes scanned the roofs of the shops, looking for any treacherous shadows, but nothing bar an estranged looking cat showed itself from behind a dustbin.

"What just happened is something you will someday have the misfortune of learning. Apparation. A powerful method of magic used to suddenly appear and disappear to the witch or wizards choice of location. As useful as it may seem, leaves an unfortunate twist in the gut." Dumbledore explained, patting his stomach.

Harry soon realised what he meant as a feeling of nausea crept upon him. However he did not have time to voice his concern, as Dumbledore turned swiftly on his heel and made off down the street. Following behind him, Harry swung his head from side to side. He felt just as he had all upon entering Diagon Alley with Hagrid all those years ago. For the most part, the street seemed filled with shops of various kinds - a pet shop, located next to a vet, a hair salon, located next to a music store and then a row of red bricked houses which disappeared around the bend.

"Professor, where are we, exactly?" Harry asked.

Professor Dumbledore came to a halt and turned to face an alley way located between a book shop and a sweet shop. Harry paused alongside him. The alley way was arched and nailed to the wall above it was a piece of metal with the letters 15 - 25 branded onto it. Harry frowned.

"I believe we have reached our destination," Dumbledore answered and set off down the alley way.

Harry followed him into the darkness and then reappeared in a dimly lit courtyard, surrounded by 10 grey houses situated alongside each other in a circle. Each house had dark slated tiles on the roof and a crumbling chimney. A patch of greenery was situated in the middle of the yard and a lone football lay on the grass. A curtain or two twitched and Harry saw a few shadows pass from inside the windows.

"Ah yes, number 21, here we are." Dumbledore finally announced, striding toward a house with a green door and a large brass knocker twisted into the shape of a what Harry could only describe as a large piece of dung. They waited momentarily until rummaging came from behind the door and someone jerked it open. A faint light crept onto the metre or so of cobble stone and bounced across the dark grass.

"Remus, thank you for hosting on such short notice." said Dumbledore.

"Not at all, Headmaster. More than deserved."

Harry's jaw dropped. The figure before him was one of an aged looking, yet youthful at heart man. Remus Lupin, his former Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and friend stood before him. His robes, unlike the last time he had met Harry, looked well fitted and even in the dim light Harry could see a tint of healthy blush to his cheeks. Remus's hair looked every bit as auburn as the last time Harry checked, but he could still see the oncoming grey hairs and oddish tint of ageing colours.

"Hello again, Harry. I've heard of your adventures this evening." Remus smiled.

"Professor, I… I don't know what to say."

"Call me Remus, I am not longer your professor Harry, for now, I am a friend and mentor. Do, come in." he said, standing back and pointing the way.

They crossed the threshold and followed Remus down a tight carpeted hallway with a staircase at the end. He turned left and led them into a cosy sitting room. Harry took the scenery in. A maroon coloured couch faced a window concealed with floral patterned curtains; two matching plump chairs faced an old fashioned marble fire place, above which hung a large golden framed mirror. A vase of flowers and a box of matches lay upon the mantle piece, along with an empty cup. The walls were bare, except for the cream spiral patterned wall paper and the floor was heavily carpeted like the hall way. It was a small room, fit for no more than 4 people, but Harry thought it amazing ; warm and cosy, just like a living room should be. A light mahogany table sat in the middle of the room and a tray of tea and biscuits lay waiting.

"Remus, you shouldn't have," said Dumbledore, helping himself to a cream custard, "I absolutely do love cream custards. But I shant be staying. As you know well enough, business and preparation call."

Both wizards shared a knowing glance. "I shall leave you to get acquainted and find your way. I'll be in touch." With yet another pop, Professor Dumbledore disappeared in his usual abrupt manner.

Harry stood for the umpteenth time that night feeling awkward and not knowing what to do with himself. He itched to question Remus, but didn't want to be rude. He choose to scratching the back of his head instead and ruffled his hair.

"An old Potter trait, that is." Remus commented, smiling fondly up at Harry from the couch, "Do sit down Harry, make yourself comfortable. If I know Dumbledore at all, I'll know you are owed an explanation."

"What's an old Potter trait?" Harry asked quickly.

"Your father was always a looker Harry. Endless amount of time did he spend staring at his own reflection and countless hours did I spend trying to charm his hair into lying flat, only to have him ruffle it all up again when he was nervous. You're very like him, you know."

Harry smiled. He felt a bit more at ease now, hearing such fond tales of his father.

"But anyway, onto the topic at hand, why you're here." Remus poured Harry a cup of tea and moved it across the table.

"Dementors."

"Well yes, I heard you had a narrow escape with that one today, and with the ministry. But no use in crying over spilled milk, I hear it's all cleared up and dwelling on the past, as I'm sure you've heard before, does no good. The reason you are here Harry is for your own safety. Times are changing and things are beginning to shift rapidly out of place. The ministry of magic has taken up a new council and old powers have been resigned. Fudge has personally seen to it that anyone supporting your claims are swiftly removed from office. He's becoming reckless and dangerous. Just last week new restrictions were made allowing Inquisitors be placed in all major schooling institutions in England, to ensure correct procedures are been taken."

"There's more than Hogwarts? And what procedures? Like, proper teaching?"

"Oh there's more than Hogwarts yes, far more. Some students cannot afford to attend major schools such as Hogwarts, likewise some cannot travel, so ministry allows for community schools, almost like little muggle schools, be set up in distant communities, after all, wizarding blood must be trained properly. Merlin knows only the damage that a full grown untrained wizard could cause."

"And procedures?" Harry pressed on.

"Procedures being that no one preach the return of Voldemort. Fudge thinks you're lying. Have you seen the daily prophet headlines?"

Harry scowled and nodded. He had seen the lies, the scandals and claims of him being mad and loony. "There lies!"

"Well of course they are! But try telling that to Fudge. He's refusing to believe it, can you blame him? If only it were all wrong. Not that I'm saying you're lying Harry, I completely support you, but times were so hard back then, so terrible and cold." Remus paused for a moment, his eyes flickering to the scar that rest behind Harry's fringe. "They would have been proud of you, you know that, don't you?"

Harry nodded. "I know. Everyone tells me."

Remus smiled softly. "It's a nice little place here. Lot's of people around your age, very settled community. Like any community though you'll have the strange folk, the ones to avoid, the ones who gossip and so on. You'll soon learn whose who and who can be trusted. I only ask you remember that you are a wizard amongst muggles, keep everything on the down low."

"Sirius might visit." Harry said, smiling at Remus. "I said I'd owl him. I bet he'd love to see you, we could do something together."

Remus cleared his throat and smiled a small smile. Harry had a feeling it was a strained smile as a flint of something Harry didn't recognise etched it's way onto the scarred face. "There's also something you should know. It will not be just the both of us living here, Harry. I have been for sometime living with a… a partner of mine. Someone you are familiar with. I only ask you try to understand."

"What do you mean?"

"My partner is Severus Snape or Professor Snape to you, Harry. We have been courting for some time. This is his house. I live here with him."

"You're dating SNAPE?" Harry gasped. He could feel his jaw hanging loosely. "That's … that's fine, I mean, there's nothing wrong with you know… being that way and stuff, it's just a bit… well, you know. Snape?"

"I know you two don't exactly get along. I've seen it personally while I taught you and believe me Harry, I know he can be a bit cold but please remember that without him, you would have no where to stay for the summer. He has been kind enough to take you in and allow you reside here."

Harry felt uneasy again. Professor Snape didn't just hate Harry, he despised Harry. Snape despised anything Gryffindor, anything teenage, and especially anything Potter. Every year since Harry's arrival to Hogwarts, there had been some sort of misunderstanding between him and Snape. The mangled leg in his first year, the flying car in his second year, the shrieking shack in his third year, the missing potion ingredients last year, not to mention the fact that Harry completely distrusted Snape's loyalties. How could Remus even think twice about Snape? Yet, how could he judge Remus's actions, who was he to judge?

"Thank you for letting me stay, Remus," said Harry, allowing a small smile, "It was very kind too of Sna - Professor Snape to let me stay."

Remus sighed. "Thank you too, Harry, for being so understanding. Right now, you will not be meeting Professor Snape, he is currently held up with Order activity. But you'll meet him at breakfast. But for now, I think you've had a long day. Perhaps retiring to bed is the best option."

Harry agreed and sent Remus an appreciated yawn. He allowed himself be led back into the hallway and up the wooden stairs. Every second stair creaked and an icy draft seemed to linger particularly around the top of the stairs.

"Just a recognition charm," Remus explained when Harry shivered, "There are a lot of charms on the house. Your presence here is new to them at the moment, but you'll soon grow accustom."

Remus stopped at the top of the stairs and pointed to a door on the left. "That's the bathroom. I don't advise a shower late at night, Severus is the only one who does that, so he adjusts the water heating to switch off at night as he prefers cold showers."

Remus then pointed to a door opposite the bathroom. "That's a spare room. There's not much in there, we mostly use it for extra storage, so feel free to take advantage of it." He then led Harry down a corridor. "This is our room. I'd ask you to please refrain from going in there, for obvious reasons." Harry didn't think he'd ever in his lifetime want or need a reason to refine himself to a bedroom occupied by Snape. "And this is your room," said Remus, opening a door at the end of the corridor. Harry noted that the distance between himself and Snape wasn't that great and only hoped his door had a lock and key, all the same, he appreciated the space.

Stepping in he immediately took a liking to the room. It was large, which Harry greatly appreciated. His room at the Dursley's was small and cramped and the carpet smelled of rot and death after Hedwig's nightly scavenges. There were two beds in the room, a double and a single. Both were covered in dark blue sheets and had underneath storage space. A large desk was placed against the wall between the beds. A closet lay at the foot of the single bed and shelves were placed on either side of the room. The only light shone from a little sky light in the ceiling. Harry liked this, as part of the light reached over the double bed, which would allow him stare at the night sky. Overall he liked the room. It was neat and tidy.

"I hope you like it," said Remus. "You can do as you wish with it and I'm sure the space is more than adequate. I'll let you settle in. You'll find your trunk and Hedwig's cage beneath the bed. I'll call you for breakfast in the morning. Good night."

"Thank you. Goodnight."

Harry flopped onto the double bed and stared out at the night sky. Somewhere within him he tried to piece it all together - Dementors, Sirius, Order, Remus and Snape, new house. Before he even had the chance to question Remus's relationship again, his eyes had shut and he settled into a night plagued with the familiar startling green light and screams.

tbc ...

There you all have it, Chapter one. What do you think? Hope to see you in the next chapter when Severus meets Harry and the ground rules of Palaver street are established.