A/N: Hey, y'all. I'm back for the second chapter- and thanks to everyone who reviewed! This chapter is going to be longer than the last one, for sure. Hope you all enjoy!

Oh, and because I forgot last chapter- Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Those rights go to J. K. Rowling.

Harry Potter enjoyed living with his godfather. He liked him much better than the Dursleys, anyway- which was where they were headed. Sirius hated them even more than Harry did, it seemed- the only reason they were going at all was because Dumbledore insisted that Harry stay with them for one week every year. Harry didn't know why, but Sirius did, and if Sirius thought it was important then Harry wouldn't ask questions.

One week with his aunt, uncle, and cousin was enough for him to realize how lucky he was to have Sirius.

They stood on the steps on Number 4, Privet Drive, in a stony silence. Having always hated silences, Sirius broke it.

"It's only for a week. Then we can play Quidditch, or invite Ron over, or go to Hogsmeade for some pointless shopping-"

"Sirius," Harry interrupted, grinning. "Every time we come here, it's like you think I'm going to hate you for leaving me with them. I know it's for a week. I'll be fine. Whatever they throw at me, I can handle. I'm a Gryffindor, remember? With Dad's courage, Mum's strength, and your determination- that's what you always say, anyway."

Sirius relaxed, mirroring Harry's grin. "You're right, of course. A kid with James and Lily for parents, and me as a godfather? Unstoppable! McGonagall nearly had a heart attack when she found out." he teased. Then he shoved his shoulder-length black hair out of his steel grey eyes. His motorcycle jacket suited him, despite his age- thirty-three- and his face held the never-ending joy of someone who had never quite grown up.

Sirius flicked his wand, and the door opened- Sirius had once told Harry that the Dursleys didn't like magic, so he liked to flaunt the fact that he had it. Harry suspected this need to do things that people he hated disapproved of was leftover from when Sirius lived with his parents.

They walked in, causing Aunt Petunia, who had just come out of the kitchen, to shriek in surprise and anger. "How- how dare you use that vile- thing, and charge in here uninvited-"

"How dare you call Lily, one of the kindest souls who ever lived, a freak." Sirius shot back.

Petunia pursed her lips, but said nothing. "Vernon! They're here."

As if on cue, Uncle Vernon appeared in the doorway, in all his purple-faced glory. "Close that door, boy, before the neighbors see!"

Sirius' wand was out in an instant. "Call him by his name, or you and I will have a proper duel- whether it's a wizarding one or a Muggle one, I will win. I'm in no mood to put up with your cruelty this time. If anything happens to Harry, you'll have me to answer to."

His face reaching formerly unheard-of shades of purple, Uncle Vernon nodded stiffly.

"Good." Sirius pocketed his wand. He turned to his godson. "If anything happens, Harry, contact me immediately, and don't leave anything out. Got it?"

Harry nodded. "Got it."

After one last hug with his godson, Sirius left. Uncle Vernon shut the door, and rounded on Harry. "Listen, boy," he snarled. "Marge is coming for a visit- there will be no funny business, or you'll regret ever being born- I don't care what that godfather of yours says."

Harry nodded stiffly. "Fine. But if she-"

"No buts!" Uncle Vernon roared.

Harry escaped upstairs into his room before his uncle could cause a real racket- one that would leave the neighbors more shocked than a flying motorbike. He unloaded his trunk and began to count down the days until he could be back with Sirius.

The next morning, Harry was watching the news as Aunt Petunia obsessively cleaned the already-spotless kitchen in anticipation of Aunt Marge's arrival. That's when the reporters began telling their viewers of an escaped convict. A murderer, they said. By the name of Remus Lupin. They showed his mug shot.

Lupin, to Harry at least, didn't look that dangerous. In fact, the man looked very normal- shaggy brown hair, a pale complexion. Only two things made the man different- three scars on his jaw that looked suspiciously like claw-marks, and the unusual color of his eyes- a bright amber. Those eyes didn't look evil or even angry to Harry. On the contrary, they looked very kind. In the mug shot, however, the man, though he tried to hide it, looked absolutely terrified.

"- would like to remind everyone that this man is extremely dangerous." the woman on the screen was saying. "If seen, do not approach, I repeat, DO NOT APPROACH him alone. Call the number below if you have sighted him, or have any information of his whereabouts."

"Don't need her to tell us he's no good." grunted Uncle Vernon. "Look at the state of him!"

Harry knew his uncle had been talking about the worn and threadbare state of Lupin's clothes, and felt another surge of pity for the man on the television. Something in Lupin's eyes convinced Harry that he was innocent, despite the fact that he had no idea what the charges were against him.

Remus Lupin stood in his old childhood home, attempting to warm himself from the chill outside. The house had been abandoned years ago, luckily for Remus. He walked into his old room, and stared at the pictures stuck on the wall. With haunted eyes, he looked at one of the four of them. James. Sirius. Himself. And him.

"Ah, Wormtail," he whispered hoarsely. Tears pricked at his eyes. "Why did you have to shatter the broken man?"

Suddenly, a suffocating fear gripped him. He gasped, and doubled over. He was terrified. He could hear Harry's screams. He could see Sirius's horrified face. He saw Lily, lifeless on the ground. He saw James, his eyes horribly blank. He could hear Peter. Lily and James, Remus. How could you? He could see the flash of green light, the thumps as bodies hit the ground. He could feel the Aurors hands on him. But most of all, he could hear himself, whispering. I don't regret a thing. He had meant that, even though he'd be locked away in Azkaban, he didn't regret going after Peter. He didn't regret loving Harry, Lily, James, and Sirius. He didn't regret knowing them. But the Aurors- and the rest of the wizarding world- thought he meant killing thirteen Muggles (which he hadn't done), killing Peter (he was in rat form), and betraying Lily and James to Voldemort (he'd have rather died).

Now, finally out of Azkaban, Remus suffered from these panic attacks. He relived every terrible memory, even without the Dementors' help. As a werewolf, he had quite a few terrible memories.

He controlled the fear. He knew he was slowly going insane, but as a werewolf, he knew how to control his fear and pain. He was stronger than anyone had ever given him credit for. He'd find Harry and protect him from Peter, if it killed him.

He owed it to James and Lily.

Remus recalled that fateful day in Azkaban, when he had found Peter.

He had been sitting against one of the walls in his cell. All the bars in Azkaban were silver- it was just unfortunate that he was a werewolf. His cell was located underground, where no sunlight could reach. Sometimes the cell flooded six inches or so- Remus was constantly cold and wet. The first time the water came in he was beyond terrified, because in the darkness he was not aware it was water, or that it would stop rising.

A wand light appeared, taking the werewolf by surprise. It grew brighter, indicating that whoever the owner was was coming his way. A few Aurors approached slowly. Remus recognized Mad-Eye Moody.

Help. Remus wanted to say. You knew me. Would I have betrayed them?

But Mad-Eye sneered at him as he passed. Remus cast his gaze upon the other Aurors. He recognized John Dawlish, having gone to school with him. The Marauders hadn't really liked the man. He was a follower- there was hardly an independent thought in his head. Remus sucked in a breath, however, when he saw their third member- Kingsley Shacklebolt- another former classmate of Remus'. Kingsley had been a year under Remus. Remus used to tutor him in Transfiguration. Remus leaned forward. Kingsley and a young witch with pink hair were standing slightly apart from Dawlish, Moody, and, Remus realized, the Minister- was that Cornelius Fudge?

"Kingsley," Remus breathed. His voiced cracked, having not used it for longer than he knew. Tears pricked his eyes. He wanted out of here. Whatever wrong he had done, he had spent enough time in Azkaban to right it! He'd never hurt Lily or James. Someone needed to know. Louder, he whispered, "Kingsley."

Kingsley jumped a foot into the air, whipping around to face Remus. "Who- how do you know me?" Kingsley demanded quietly, not wanting his superiors to know what he was doing. The witch, however, was listening. Remus didn't care.

"It's me. Remus."

Kingsley's eyes hardened. "Lupin. Don't speak to me, you monster."

Remus brushed aside the words. He'd been called worse. "I need you to give a message to Sirius."

The witch snarled. "You filthy- you don't deserve to say his name!"

Kingsley's eyes narrowed. "Quiet, Tonks. Why should I help you? Harry is an orphan because of you."

Remus, however, was now looking at the witch with interest. "Tonks? Nymphadora? Andromeda and Ted's daughter? The last time I saw you, you were knee height."

"You... met me?" Tonks looked momentarily thrown off guard.

Kingsley cleared his throat. "Leave her alone, Lupin. What do you want?"

"I want you to deliver a message."

"Not for you, I won't."

"You're an Auror, right? You need to pass a Transfiguration exam to become an Auror. Would you have been able to pass it without my help?"

Kingsley was silent.

Remus nodded. "In return for all those lessons, I ask you give Sirius one message. It's not coded. It's very short and straight forward."

Kingsley sighed. "What's the message?"

Remus licked his lips. "Messr. Moony would like to inform Messr. Padfoot that Messr. Wormtail is a rat. If Cornelius' paper is anything to go by, he's at Hogwarts. At Hogwarts with Messr. Prongs' son. If Messr. Padfoot won't save him, Messr. Moony will."

Kingsley blinked. "You said it wasn't coded."

"It wasn't."

Tonks looked shaken. "He's insane, Kingsley. Don't do it."

Remus' eyes widened. "You promised you'd give it to him. Sirius will understand, even if you don't."

Kingsley nodded. "I'll pass it on. I'm not sending you any sort of word though. This is it. I'll never see you again."

"That," Remus said softly. "Depends on whether my mistress becomes my only prison. It depends on whether the dog catches the rat- or if the wolf will have to do so."

"Your mistress?" Tonks asked sharply. "Who?"

Remus looked her straight in the eye. "Why, the moon, of course."