Ooc: Hello! I hope you read my story and enjoy it, I woud love comments please, as it keeps my passion for continuing the story raging! I don't have a beta, so please, if you find any mistakes, inform me of it!

Inspiration: What ever happened to Harry's Godmother?

He had always know he would find her, buried in piles of old photographs hidden in mahogany's trunks covered with a thick coating of dust. It had been only two months since Sirius had fallen through the veil, and still his heart broke every time he passed a photo, a letter, even the tapestry that didn't bear his name. It had been what drew him upstairs to the attic, where it seemed another dimension had consumed 12 Grimmauld Place. Around mazes of trunks and stools, behind bookcases and dressers, Harry Potter had managed to stumble upon an old cardboard boxed, similar to the ones used by muggles, hidden in the corner. Holding one hand over his mouth and eyes, he used his sleeve to dust away at the lid, where he could see faint, thick handwriting curving across the top. "The Wedding." He thought it read, as a dim smile faded across his face.

Prying open the flaps, inside he found crumpled papers, ripped photographs and boxes filled with what appeared to be letters. Picking up a handful of the black and white photos that happened to be on top, his eyes studied the scene before him. His mother and father were standing in the center, around a very large and scrumptious cake. Wearing pure white, his mother looked beautiful, and his father stunning, as they stared longingly into each others eyes. Off to the side he saw the familiar, scrawny Remus Lupin, who seemed to be smiling faintly to himself, as if in another world. Beside him was the traitorous Peter Pettigrew, who was fumbling with his fingers as he looked into the camera awkwardly.

But it was the two on the other side the caught his eye, and surprisingly held it. A familiar black-haired man stood beside James, though his back was turned away from him. He had the strong jaw and built shoulders, and wispy hair that laid perfectly upon his head, it was his Godfather, Sirius Black. His expression though, was one he expected to be plastered across his father, as it wreaked of love and was flooded with lust and passion. His dark eyes weren't staring into a familiar face, rather, it was a woman Harry had never seen before.

Tall and dark, with heavy-lidded eyes and a genuine smile creasing her porcelain face, she stood only to Sirius' shoulders in height. Wearing a pale blue dress that shimmered even in the photograph, Harry scrunched his forehead in concentration trying to remember her, but was interrupted as he heard a leg catch on to a box beside him. Tumbling down onto the floor came the rather gaunt face of Remus Lupin. "What are you doing?" Harry managed to squeak out as he clutched the photo tightly in his hand, almost wrinkling it permanently.

"Saw the door open and thought I'd join you." He said, peering into the box, a grin crossing his face as he rummaged through some old documents and pictures. "What you have in your hand?"

"A photo, that's all, of my parents."

Turning back to the box, he was about to drop the conversation, when he caught Harry looking away uncomfortably. "Let me see it." He said, putting his hand out to request the photo. With a glance into the brown eyes he had grown to love, Harry, unfolded it nicely, and placed it face down in Remus' hand. Flipping it over casually, he stared at the boy before glancing down at it, his smile faltering as he did so.

"Who is she?" Harry demanded, knowing that his eyes were staring at the same black-haired beauty gazing at Sirius, his Sirius.

"Harry, I really don't think this is the time to talk about it… so close after his death and all." Remus managed to stutter out as he stuffed the photo back into the box, "Really, I think it would be better if someone else told you."

"No, I want you to tell me! You were their best friend!" Harry exclaimed passionately, his hands moving wildly, as if attempting to explain what he wanted with a game of charades.

"Harry…." Lupin said, his voice down to a low whisper, his eyes lingering on the photo now resting on the top of the box. With a thin and fragile grasp, he managed to yank it off again and turn it over. Harry watched as he studied it, Lupin's eyes never moving from the petite figure that seemed to interest them both. "Her name is Juliet Hoffman." He began, his eyes watering slightly, though Harry believed it to be from the dust that had swirled around them.

"You've never mentioned her before."

"Harry… Please don't mention this to anyone else…" Remus began with, a simple warning that Harry had grown accustomed to as of late.

"I promise, but why haven't you mentioned her."

"She is your Godmother."

"Is or Was?" Harry demanded through gritted teeth.

With a deep sigh, Harry watched nervously as Remus' chest rose and fell with each passing moment. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Harry asked, his hands flailing about as he lept up to his feet, knocking over various lamps that shattered to the floor.

"It's a long story, please Harry, just sit down." Lupin demanded in an authoritative tone that Harry hadn't heard since Hogwarts in his third year. With a thud, Harry collapsed back to the ground, his hands landing, clasped, in his lap. "She was your mother's best friend since first year." He began, a smile curving at the side of his lips. "Witty, sarcastic, she seemed to know exactly how to push your father and Sirius' buttons." Remus explained with a shake of his head, and Harry watched as hair fell in front of Remus' face.

"But… the way they are looking at each other…" Harry began, his voice stumbling over the words. Why was he so nervous? Or was he, jealous?

"Harry, if I'm going to tell you about Julie, you need to hear the entire story."

"Tell me! Please. We're the only ones home and we can make some tea and have some biscuits…"

Closing his eyes shut, Remus seemed to be weighing his options, but eventually he creaked upwards, standing to his full height, "Come along Harry." He said, as the managed to maneuver their way out of the attic, still holding the photo. Shutting the door tightly behind him, as if never to open it again, Remus led the way down the stairs towards the barren and desolate kitchen. With grace and zombie-like motions, Remus began to fill up a tea kettle with water from the faucet, like a muggle would do, and put it on the stove, without magic. "Sit down." He commanded and Harry did so without questioning him.

He began his story slowly -- from the beginning -- weaving a tale of elegance and complexity that had Harry mesmerized as he sipped his warm tea, clutching the cup as if it was his heart on his sleeve.

"I first met Julie on the train to Hogwarts…."