-Ch.2 is up! Now, I've noticed something around here that makes me a little annoyed. About three or four of you have added this fic to your Story Alert list, but neglected to review it. Now, if you have the time to Story Alert it, surely you can write a little critique. Plus, I CAN MAKE YOU!!! MWAHAHAHAHA! Okay, so strictly speaking I can't…it must be the Halloween spirit sneaking up on me. Oh well! You get my point-you no review, I no write! Get it, got it, good. NOW READ-SF12
Months after Sirius came to see me, I found myself in Little Whinging, staring across the street at Harry Potter.
He couldn't see me, of course. I was using Mad-Eye's Invisibility Cloak. It was in the early hours of the morning, and the sun was just barely beginning to make its way up onto the horizon. I'd always loved that sort of scene, and I'll admit I was thoroughly enjoying myself.
Harry yawned from across the street. I'd used Magnification Charm on his window, and I could ensure his safety. It seemed so ridiculous that someone could disrupt such a warm, comfortable morning, even Voldemort.
From what I could see, Harry did not look happy as he reread some of his mail from a few days ago. I imagine they were from his best friends Ron or Hermione, or even from Sirius, and from the looks on his face, the words were not satisfactory. His squinting eyes showed his profuse scanning of the parchment, possibly searching for a hidden meaning among the ink. He wouldn't find it.
It felt demonic, keeping Harry in the dark like this. I had to restrain myself from sweeping off the cloak and going to talk to him after he threw some letters across the room. It pained my soul to watch him, out of the loop, separated from Wizarding society like this. His only connection seemed to be the Daily Prophet, and I daresay that the paper probably had a negative effect on him. They talked about him like he was garbage. I'd always hated the Prophet, especially with Rita Skeeter writing for it. I'd been to school with dear old Rita, the awful woman-she'd been in Ravenclaw, but I'd heard that the Sorting Hat deeply considered sending her to Slytherin House. She'd tried to get a story out of me about Aberforth Dumbledore's goat difficulties, but I managed to avoid her-even then, she was trying for an internship at the Prophet. What a hateful woman she was-although she got exactly what she deserved when James put Bubotuber Pus in her expensive hair-curling shampoo. Oh, the look on her face was priceless…
After a few brief chuckles at Rita's expense, I quieted myself and kept watch over Harry. Keeping him stuck with those Dursleys made my skin crawl-I'd met them at the Potters' wedding, and couldn't stand them. I was tempted to tell Harry everything, as Sirius had always argued we should, but Dumbledore was firm on that point. Harry was not to know anything. It was totally unfair in my opinion, but I supposed Dumbledore was right. After all, this was the man who had thought up the pact-surely he would know what was best for Harry. I hoped.
I glanced at my wristwatch, decorated with miniature planets and such. My shift was almost over-I'd been here for more hours then I felt like counting. My replacement would come in three, two, one…
With a faint pop, a short, half-drunk man appeared at my side. "'Ey there, Lupin…everything going along fine 'round here?"
Mundungus Fletcher, of course. He and I were on very good terms-I'd defended him when Madam Rosmerta accused him of not paying for his drink years ago. Rosmerta had always had a soft spot for me-heaven knows why-and gave Dung the firewhisky on the house. Ever since, he'd helped me out of a few tight spots, now and then. I couldn't trust him as far as I could throw him without magic, but he was good to have around for a laugh. It was a good to know that at least one person had it worse than me.
Yeah, I know, kinda sad.
"Morning, Dung. Ready for the day shift?" I asked, my nose twitched unpleasantly at his rather repulsive stench. I always wondered if his parents had nicknamed him Dung for that reason…
"Well, yeah, but…" He shuffled his feet, not looking me in the eye.
In short, nothing out of the ordinary.
"But what?" I said, turning my useful 'responsible one' look on.
"Well, I got a good opportunity comin' up-rumor has it, there's a bunch of cauldron shipments goin' on 'round here-thought I might get a chance to, y'know, check 'em out." He looked rather uncomfortable, despite a few weak attempts at laughter.
This was no laughing matter-Harry's safety was something I was completely unwilling to jeopardize. "No," I said sternly, "You'll stay right here, understood?"
He nodded half-heartedly. "Yeah, yeah…I'll stay, don't you worry none."
I wasn't entirely sure of that, but there seemed to be nothing else I could do to ensure Dung would stay. Unless…
I had an idea that James Potter would've been proud of. I'd go to see one of the most authoritative people in the Wizarding world.
I bade Dung a good day, and made my way down Privet Drive to a well-painted white house, that despite it's outer beauty, smelled of an overload of cat fur.
That's right. You guessed it.
"Why, Remus Lupin! Oh, my dear boy, it's been so long since I've seen you. Give me hug, you old charmer, you!" Arabella Figg was even happier to see me than I imagined. The Marauders had always been welcome at Arabella's, and she'd taken a liking to all of us. That is, except Peter-her cats were none too fond of the little rat. Literally.
"Hello, Arabella, how are you doing?" I poured on a little casualness, a technique I'd learned from Sirius. Draw them right in.
The kindly old lady smiled at me, swinging open her screen door and giving me a warm hug. "Dear, would you like some tea? I just made a pot, you know how Mr. Tibbles likes a good saucer full now and again."
Oh, I certainly knew. The cat had charmed me out of my tea more than once. Lucky little devil-I think he's half Kneazle.
"I'm sorry you know I'd love to stay, but I just got off guard duty, and I could use a few hours of sleep. No, I just came to ask a small favor of you, but I don't want to trouble you if you're busy." I stated, still grinning. Those good times we'd had at Arabella's, or Figgy's, as Dung and Sirius liked to call her, were a highlight of my life. We'd met her at our own Hogwarts graduation-she was Michaela Figg's aunt. She then joined the Marauders' end-of-the-year party, and the friendship began.
"No, no, I'm not busy at all. What do you need?" She seemed so eager, I knew she was thinking of the good times as well. Voldemort could do his best to go after us in those days, but we refused to cower in our homes.
"I wonder if you could keep an eye on Mundungus Fletcher-it's his turn at guard duty, and he mentioned something about pinching some cauldrons…"
She nodded vigorously. "Of course, Remus. I'll look out for that piece of slime-in fact…!" She retreated into her home and emerged moments later, an aging but still spry tabby cat in her arms. A very familiar tabby cat.
"Mr. Tibbles." I said, trying hard to keep a straight face as I imagined what James would've said when he saw me greeting that feline after fifteen-odd years apart.
The cat looked up at me, and then reached out with its paws, as if to grasp me in a handshake.
Weird cat. Ah well, like I've said-animals love me. It's a gift.
"Aw, he remembers you!" Arabella cooed. Her tone became serious and she looked directly at the old tom. "Mr. Tibbles, go make sure Fletcher isn't deserting, the little mongrel. Go on, then."
The loyal cat sprang from her arms dutifully and with a parting glance at me, slunk off with its tail held aloft, heading for the Dursley home.
I followed his train of thought, and Apparated back to headquarters. I had a calm day planned put-eat a light luncheon, get some sleep and spend the rest of the day reading.
-----------------------------------
"It is our duty to protect Harry from the forces that seek to harm him…"
It was a place I recognized-where could it be? It was dark, so dark…and suddenly curses began to fly…jets of green light…an evil, cold voice…
"Remus! Remus! Rouse yourself! REMUS! Wake up!"
My eyes snapped open, adjusting to the dark with inhuman ability. A red-headed man stood above me, shaking me roughly. Arthur Weasley was bent over me-his flaming hair stood out in the blackness. My extrasensory vision couldn't do everything-I found my wand and flicked it at the lamp beside me, filling the room with light.
I leapt up from my bed, looking around for the source of Arthur's urgency. I had nodded off in a guest bedroom of Order of the Phoenix Headquarters, which was Sirius's home.
I turned my attention to Arthur, whose glasses were askew. Hurriedly fixing them, he said breathlessly, "Harry's been attacked!"
My heart skipped a beat. "What? How?" I questioned as I followed him downstairs, three steps at a time.
"Dementors, Remus, dementors. They showed up in Little Whinging of all places! I only just found out-Fletcher told Dumbledore, who alerted us." We reached the kitchen, where Arthur snatched up a piece of parchment and Pre-Inked Quill, scribbling a messy note.
"Is Harry all right?" I asked, peering over his shoulder to decipher what he'd written.
"Yes, he's fine-Arabella led him back to the Dursleys'. But we've got much bigger problems now. The Ministry has expelled Harry. Dumbledore's down there trying to convince them otherwise." Arthur finished writing and beckoned his owl, hastily attaching his envelope.
"Sirius must know." I said decisively, Apparating directly upstairs to Sirius's bedroom.
"Sirius!" I cried, appearing with a tremendous crack. Sirius, who'd been reading what looked like a very old letter, looked up. "What's going on?"
"It's Harry-he's been ambushed by dementors!"
Sirius was on his feet before I could explain myself-I watched as he turned on the spot. I recognized the telltale signs of an Apparation and screamed, "No!" pointing my wand at him, thinking "Impedimenta!" with all my power.
Sirius froze in place, and I seized him by the collar, disrupting his Apparation. As he came back to reality, he glared at me. "What are you doing?! The pact…"
"You're not going to do Harry any good if Fudge catches you in Little Whinging!" I shouted, angry that he couldn't see reason.
He broke free of my grasp. "What you expect me to do, sit by while my godson is in danger? Remember the pact!"
Before I could come up with an argument, a beautiful silver phoenix soared through the open window, halting three feet from Sirius and I. We watched as the Patronus spoke, Albus Dumbledore's authoritative, wise voice rang within the room. "I am handling this matter. Harry is not expelled. Remus, I need you to prepare a guard-soon enough, Harry must come to Grimmauld Place. Remember, tell him nothing…" The phoenix gave a final majestic call before fading into the air.
Relieved, I calmed my nerves. Harry was okay, he was fine…
My doglike friend was less than soothed, however. "Right, right. So don't worry, kick back, just stay in an old house for all eternity, I can take care of Harry…I'm getting tired of Dumbledore's policies. Harry needs to be protected, but he cannot be sheltered from real life."
I spoke softly, "I think, after his encounter with Voldemort, that Harry has experienced enough for now."
Sirius had very little to say to that, but when I prepared to leave, he began to talk, even quieter than I had. "Why is it, my friend, I feel that Dumbledore is drawing us away from Harry? He needs us, especially now."
"Perhaps the boy is growing up-Dumbledore may want him prepared to face his mission alone, like he's destined to." I mused."
Sirius shook his head, the hint of a smile on his lips. "Remus, we were fifteen once. You're at a point where you think you can do everything alone, but you know you need aid. Harry needs us!"
He had a point. Harry was like a son to the both of us-he needed support, he needed to feel important. But what did I know about what he needed? Granted, I'd known my friends well, but who truly knew what lay ahead and how to prepare yourself for it?
Memories flooded through my mind, and I saw Lily and James in it's eye, just as I see him whenever Harry steps into my life.
"It's like what Lily said to us both once, before they went into hiding. Do you recall it?" I said slowly, facing Sirius.
He said nothing, but I went on undaunted. "She told us that no one is ever truly alone, as long as somewhere, there is love. She's right. We can't always act on impulse to protect Harry-but we will do our best. I don't know why Dumbledore wants us to distance ourselves from him, but it must be for the best."
This time he nodded, and I don't think I imagined his darting glance at the letter.
"And then James told us that very little is what it seems." I said.
"I remember. He also said patience was indeed a virtue but it was still damn annoying."
I laughed harder than I thought possible at the idea and ventured towards the door, stopping at the last moment. "Whatever happens in this time of uncertainty, we must keep together. Dumbledore might have asked us to stay put, but he's wrong. Without companionship, all is lost. That is where Voldemort will fail."
With those parting words of wisdom, I departed to recruit a guard.
Nightfall came to quiet suburban streets of Little Whinging like a deep black blanket, ringing the sky with clouds. Privet Drive was no different from any other street, peaceful with the sounds of cicada chirps and the occasional owl hoot, but still hushed in comparison to the loud city.
Amid the tranquility, a troupe of nine wizards, myself included-some old, some young, some tall, some short, some extremely short-appeared out of nowhere with a chorus of pops. I shook myself-I hated the experience of Apparation. It made feel like I'd just stuck myself into a drainpipe; very tight, very, very tight.
This dislike was apparently shared by one of my companions. Nymphadora Tonks was stumbling along as she attempted to right herself, gasping for breath.
I directed my wand at her neck. "Anapneo" I said, and then helped her regain her balance.
She smiled at me, "Thanks, Remus." I shook my head-nothing seemed to faze Dora. She was the kind of person who caused rays of sunshine just about everywhere she went-no matter how many things she knocked over in the process. We could've used her last time around-the battle against Voldemort had been undoubtedly worse. The power of light had been hard to believe in at times, despite all of the friendship and love.
Speaking of light…I fumbled around in my robe pocket and found Dumbledore's Put-Outer, passing it to another compatriot, Alastor Moody. Good man, Alastor-little insane on the whole 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE' thing, but…
Moody held out the magical instrument, clicking it several times. Instantly, all light on Privet Drive spun through air. The Put-Outer caught it all and the obsidian darkness swallowed up the entire street.
Next to me, I heard Tonks' exasperated sigh. "Great. Now, we can't see. Thanks, Mad-Eye. Really. Not all of us have magical eyes."
Moody's response was more of a growl than speech. "It's important to cloak ourselves in the darkness-if we have trouble seeing, we try harder. All because of constant-"
I swear my extrasensory wolf eyes could pick up her rolling her eyes as she cut in-"Yeah, yeah, we all know. Constant vigilance! We've heard…about a thousand times." She added the last part under her breath, but in the unending quiet, everyone heard. Trust me, there was enough quiet laughter outside the house to knock Boggart down flat.
We approached the home and I readied myself. I hadn't seen Harry in over a year-coming to visit him under such dismal terms was not my idea of a happy reunion.
I suppose beggars can't be choosers. The story of my life…
With a quick gesture from Sturgis Podmore, the door swung open without a sound. With Moody and I leading the way, we stepped into the Dursley's over-neat kitchen. The entire place smelled of too much antiseptic, and Tonks briefly enlarged her nose to show her disgust. I bit back a guffaw. Unfortunately, Tonks wasn't watching where she was going, as she was too busy trying to impress us all.
CLANG!I winced as Tonks, who'd banged into the faucet, broke a plate that was lying, freakishly clean, in the sink. She repaired it, mouthing an apologetic "Sorry" towards me.
I shrugged. No harm done, I guess. Plus, it was too silent in the house-it added to the annoying allusion of perfection the Dursleys tried so hard to…well, perfect.
I heard footsteps above, and smiled to myself. Harry had heard us.
The guard moved into the sitting room, and I could just see into the landing above. Kingsley Shacklebolt, an Auror friend who'd accompanied us, whispered a spell, and we all watched as Harry's bedroom door opened, revealing the skinny, messy-haired teenager I was destined to care for and protect, as both a guardian and a friend.
We must have frightened Harry, who drew his wand. I opened my mouth, but Moody beat me to it. We needed to stop him from using more magic-God knows, Dumbledore needed little more on his plate.
"Lower your wand, boy, before you take someone's eye out," Moody said in that kindly manner he's so good at. Honestly, way to be sympathetic.
"Professor Moody?" Harry's voice resounded through the room, lacking confidence. Harry was probably shocked to his wit's end anyway, what with the dementors and all. I felt sorrier than ever that I couldn't tell him everything.
Moody had responded, but Harry didn't seem to trust him. With a demeanor like Moody's, who could blame him.
I spoke up, hoping my voice didn't tremble. "It's all right, Harry. We've come to take you away."
I hoped with all my might that I spoke the truth.
-It's not perfect, but the only thing I would do differently is add in a few flashbacks. Ugh, this chapter makes me wince…Tell me if you want the flashbacks, cause I can revamp it later. The next chapter will be much better-more emotion. Now click the button-not the story alert button, the review button. Then, the story alert one. Trust me, its worth it-SF12