A/N - Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! Now, here's my opinion of some of the controversial characters that will be in here, and how I plan to portray them:

Snape - He's extremely well written and I applaud J.K. Rowling for making such a complex backstory for him, however I don't think he's a good person at all. I could go on and on about why, but I won't right now. Anyway, in this fic he will not be any kind of mentor towards Harry at all, and I will generally portray him like he is in canon-mildly (?) bullying his students and not liking Harry because of who his father was. Hope this satisfies ;)

Dumbledore - I don't particularly like him. Some of his actions were for a good reasons, yes, but some, such as placing Harry with an abusive family, could have been avoided. Generally I think he's misguided for the most part, but not only bad or only good. In this fic he's going to have...mixed reviews. Harry won't really like him that much, but won't just be yelling "yOu LeFt mE aT tHe DuRsLeYs!1!111!" the whole time, like in some stories. Remus will respect him to an extent, but if it comes between Harry's wellbeing/happiness and Dumbledore's plans, he'll be choosing Harry.

Ron - I don't understand why people hate him? He's great. Him and the other Weasleys will be here later, but not quite yet. No Ron bashing here! ;)

ALSO, pairings...there won't be much time for them, I'm afraid. I plan on some background Ronmione, Jily (through Remus' various flashbacks/memories) and possibly Hinny. And in this chapter there's hints at Wolfstar, and although I love that ship with all my heart, I understand not everyone does. So there's basically just a few paragraphs saying "they could've been more than friends, but never did. the end." Maybe I'll bring Tonks in here to do something at the end of the fic later. I have the overall plot planned out in my head, but I'll try and see where I could fit some more pairings in if you guys want.

EVEN MORE ALSO...Sirius Black. He hasn't escaped from Azkaban, because the way I saw it, he did it more for Harry than for revenge. He saw that Peter was at Hogwarts with Harry and that Harry was possibly in danger. If Harry's presumed dead already (and he's heard about that by now, Fudge dropped by I guess and gave him a newspaper), then why would he? But don't worry, I'm planning on bringing him into the story later.

And by the way, guys, I posted this on Wattpad too (same username). If you prefer reading it on there.

Disclaimer - I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter 2

Remus stared at the lunar chart plastered on his bedroom wall. The full moon was nearing.

It was a week after he'd gotten his job at Teresky's. So far, nobody had asked about his scars, which were silvery-pink and littered his face and arms. Not even Christopher had questioned it; Remus found that surprising. Christopher, now that he'd been acquainted with Remus for a week, had grown to be quite talkative. Their conversations were usually one sided, but occasionally Remus would say more than a sentence at a time.

Remus shifted his weight from side to side nervously as he stood at the front counter of Teresky's grocery store. "Sir?"

Teresky looked up. "Hmm? Is there something you want, lad?"

"Yes. I'd like to request off from tomorrow to Monday. Is that all right?"

The man frowned. "I don't know...Is it an emergency?"

Remus nodded. He'd been expecting this. "My grandmother is terribly sick, up

in...Iceland. I'm afraid it's very important that I visit her, as she may very well be on her deathbed at this point." He looked down mournfully.

Teresky considered him for a moment. Then, he sighed. "All right, all right. I don't see why not. It's only for the weekend, correct?"

"Yes." The full moon was on Saturday-he'd need time to recover. "I promise I'll get back as soon as I can." Teresky nodded, and went back to his magazine. Remus let out a relieved breath and walked back over to where he was restocking a shelf of sliced bread. He wondered when Teresky would start to suspect that there was something off about him. He was Muggle, so it was likely he'd take longer than his last boss, who'd been a wizard (the bar had been in Diagon Alley). Still, even if Teresky didn't know exactly why he was leaving work once a month, surely he'd get tired of the absences and fire him. Remus knew all too well that that was most likely what would happen in a few month's time.

"What was that about?" he heard Christopher ask. The boy was standing down on the other end of the isle, his hands working but his attention on Remus.

"After today, I won't be here until Monday. I've got to visit my grandmother."

"In Iceland?"

Remus nodded. He did actually have a grandmother in Iceland. He used to have a grandfather there, too, but he'd died during Remus' fifth year. Those two grandparents were his father's parents, so they were magical. Hope Lupin, Remus' late mother, had had parents who'd lived in the United States. Remus had only ever met them once.

He'd also only ever been to Iceland a couple of times. Once before he'd been bitten, and then, over a decade later, to bid farewell to his grandfather as he lay dying from a disease incurable even by magic. His grandmother had visited England a few times after that, but not often. She was perfectly healthy, the last Remus checked, but she preferred to stay by herself.

"Oh," was all Christopher said.

They worked in silence after that. Remus found himself looking at Christopher when the boy wasn't looking. He was rather skinny, especially for a fourteen-year-old. He had sandy blonde hair, similar to Remus', but it was longer and less maintained. If it hadn't been for his dark eyes and lack of visible scars, Christopher looked almost like Remus had when he'd been at Hogwarts. Remus had always been rather pale and sickly-looking.

"Moony, you ought to go have a bowl of soup. You look like you're coming down with something." James smirked and made to feel his friend's forehead with his outstretched hand.

Remus rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. He pulled away. "No, Mum, I'm fine."

"You're turning into a mum, James!" Peter teased. "Offering soup, feeling foreheads! What's next? Are you going to make me eat my vegetables?"

James flushed a bright red. "No, I'm not!"

"Face it, Prongs, you're our mum," Sirius said. "You're doing a better job than my wretched mother, though, so good on you."

"Really?" James asked. The other three Marauders nodded. "Who's the father, then, Padfoot? Moony?"

"What?" Remus asked. "I thought you were my mum! How can I be the father too?"

"Nah, Remus," Peter said. "James is Sirius' mum, not yours. He's just your worrisome grandmother who gives you money on Christmas and food all the time!"

They all laughed at that. That did sound like James.

"No, mates, if Sirius is my son, that's makes Moony my son-in-law, doesn't it?"James said through his laughter.

Remus choked on his drink, which only made them all laugh harder.

Remus blinked when the memory ended.

Sirius and him had never really officially gone out, but they'd flirted with each other back and forth for most of sixth and seventh year, after Sirius had come out as gay at the end of fifth. Remus had always seen himself as bisexual, having crushed on girls and boys equally throughout his school years. He'd never actually dated someone, since he so rarely let him get close to people, besides the other Marauders and later Lily Evans.

Everyone had thought that maybe Sirius and Remus would hook up at some point, but it never happened. Maybe it would've if Sirius hadn't ruined it by trying to play that thoughtless prank on Snape at the beginning of sixth year. He'd been forgiven, of course, first by Remus and later by James and Peter. But that had created a rift in their hybrid relationship/close friendship nonetheless. So nothing had ever happened.

All these years later, Remus found that he was glad he and Sirius hadn't become more than friends. He'd been heartbroken enough after Sirius had been arrested, and adding a romantic factor to it would've only made the betrayal worse.

Remus scowled. Betrayal. No matter how many times he heard it the word used about what happened between Sirius and the Potters and Peter, it still felt like he'd never know its true meaning. James and Lily had been betrayed, they'd experienced betrayal; how would someone define it without using some form of betray? Words didn't seem to be enough to describe betrayal. It'd been the raw emotion, the pain (though not physical) a thousand times worse than any werewolf transformation, that had done it for Remus. He had thought he'd known betrayal when Sirius had sent Snape into the Whomping Willow, but now he knew that that hadn't even been close.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WERE YOU THINKING, SIRIUS?" Remus shouted once the door of their dorm room had been closed and the two Marauders were alone. "I could have killed them-either of them!"

"You-you wouldn't have," Sirius said, exhausted after the events of the night before. "You're still Remus, Moony...You'd have stopped yourself…"

"I wouldn't have! You know that!" he argued. "I think we're both damn lucky that neither of them were killed! We both would've been expelled, and I'd have gone to Azkaban," he added.

"I'm so sorry," Sirius apologized. "I wasn't thinking! Sniv-Snape was pestering me about where you were last night, and I thought maybe you'd just give him a good scare-I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt! James was smarter than me, as usual, and-"

"I hurt him."

"Madam Pomfrey said he'll be fine-It's just a scratch-I talked to him, he even said so-"

"I don't care!" Remus snapped. "I was seconds away from killing him, Sirius, you don't understand. A werewolf cannot decide what he hurts and what he spares on a full moon; I thought I told you all that! The only reason James isn't dead or-or bitten is because you all decided to become bloody Animagi!"

Sirius' eyes widened. "He transformed?" James hadn't told him that…

"Yes, into a deer or something like that. It's one of the few things I remember from last night," Remus explained, calmer now but still upset. "I swiped at him, or something, and he fell...He transformed until I could do it again, and fought with me for a bit until transforming back and getting out of the Shrieking Shack. Snape had already gone."

"Git," Sirius muttered.

"Sirius," Remus said, exasperated. "You're missing the point! I could have killed someone!" He took a deep breath and paused. "That's my worst fear, did you know? Killing someone. Becoming a murderer...It's my boggart, too...And it came so close to coming true."

The other boy looked down in shame. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"You should be sorry," Remus muttered to nobody in particular. And yet I doubt you actually are, he added in his head.

"Huh?" Christopher asked.

Remus snapped out of his thoughts. So often he descended into his unwanted memories; it would be the death of him someday. "Nothing, Christopher," he answered wearily. "Nothing at all."

Harry took his time thinking of a new false name to use.

Ever since he'd ran away, he'd been calling himself anything but Harry Potter. He'd been a Liam Trusk, a Michael Brown, a Benjamin Camber, and many, many others. Nobody had ever questioned his identity, as he always ensured there was no hesitation before announcing who he was.

Occasionally, someone would seem skeptical at his age. Harry couldn't blame them-even at thirteen, he barely looked eleven due to his malnourishment first from the Dursleys and later from his life on the run. He'd eventually stopped telling people that he was sixteen, instead only lying if they specifically asked. Usually, however, a store owner or bartender or something of that sort would hire him anyway.

"Evan…" Harry muttered, liking the name that had randomly popped into his head. "Evan...Oak...son." He often did that-put together random sounds until he got something that resembled a surname.

He leaned against the brick wall of the alleyway he was standing in, holding out his map under the nearby street light. Yorkshire wasn't very far from where he was currently, but it would be at least three days' walk. Harry didn't particularly want to pay for a train ticket, and wouldn't resort to stealing unless it was an absolute emergency.

Folding up his map and shoving it back into his backpack, Harry began to walk in the direction of Yorkshire, careful to avoid the streetlights. It was in the early hours of the morning in now early September, and he didn't need to be seen by any early risers.

Suddenly, he stopped walking. He was sure he'd heard footsteps on the pavement. They'd sounded close. Harry, deciding that he didn't feel like getting into a fight, began jogging in the opposite direction. He made sure that his own footsteps were light and not likely to be heard (he'd had plenty of practice, being raised by his aunt and uncle…)

"He went this way!"

"Nah-can't hear him-"

"You sure, mate?"

The voices, all male, seemed to be getting closer even as Harry retreated. From

what he could tell through their footsteps and their conversation, there were only three of them, all headed his way. Harry knew he could take them, easily, but not without using his magic.

Magic. Something he'd been raised to consider a swear word. Harry remembered trying to explain how he'd ended up on the roof of the school building when he was six-that hadn't ended well at all. His uncle had slapped him as soon as the words "it was like magic!" left his mouth.

Those instances of his power had been accidental-the school building, the haircut, and similar things. They'd happened when he was frightened or in danger. Over the years, though, Harry had come close to mastering his abilities, using it for the most mundane things, like turning on a light (but only when nobody was around). Occasionally, he'd had to defend himself, like now.

"There ya are!"

Harry felt himself be grabbed roughly on the shoulder. He wondered if he could reason with his attackers before fighting back. He could easily throw one of them into the brick wall of a nearby building, then bargain with the other two to let him go...Perhaps that would work.

"Let me go," he tried first, not expecting it to work.

Instead of doing that, the person now holding him tightly pulled him over to where it was darkest: out of the streetlights and deep into an alleyway between two tall buildings. Harry struggled the whole way, not wanting to lose his ability to see to the darkness. He had realized long ago that he needed his sight to use his magic intentionally.

"What've you got?" said another of the three people (men? Boys? Harry couldn't tell).

"Take his backpack, Frankie, there might be something good in there," a third voice advised.

"No-it's mine-" Harry gasped. He couldn't lose his backpack-it was all he had. All of his money was in there, and clothes, and his map-how would he manage without it? Harry closed his eyes tightly and concentrated, trying to find his magic to defend himself. He imagined he person holding him, being pushed off of him by an invisible force-

A hard punch to his nose stopped all possible concentration. He opened his eyes (not that that helped-he still couldn't see anything) and felt blood spurt from his nose. Another fist connected with his stomach, and he fell to the ground. Lying face down, Harry felt a rough foot keep him down.

"What's in the backpack?"

"None-none of your bloody business!" Harry managed to say. He wasn't feeling as brave as he sounded, however. It was dark. He couldn't use his magic. His nose was definitely broken. And, on top of all that, once this was all over, he probably wouldn't have any of his few possessions or money left. He felt himself be kicked in the face before someone roughly pulled him up.

Harry acted quickly. He threw his fist into whatever or whoever was in front of him, and it connected with what felt like someone's nose. Good, see how he likes it, he thought. The grip on his shoulders loosened slightly.

"Damn it, he broke my nose!" said whoever Harry he punched. "Bloody kid! You're going to pay for that, you are!"

Before they could do anything else, Harry broke away and started running. His bag still on his back, he outran his attackers quickly. It hurt to do so, however, and he was forced to slow down after a few blocks. Blood was still dripping down his chin and onto the ground, and it hurt to breath too hard. He'd broken a rib, he realized. Sighing, he brought out his map again under a streetlight, careful not to jostle his injured chest too much.

Huh. It seemed that the odds were finally on Harry's side. In his quick escape, he'd actually gotten closer to his original destination. Now, he had only a few small towns to go through, which would take most likely until Friday. Then, on Saturday, he'd see if there was a hotel open in Yorkshire, and try to get hired for a small job as soon as possible.

Still suspicious at his burst of good luck, Harry snuck along the sides of buildings in the dark and quickened his pace. He wanted to get to Yorkshire as soon as possible. He'd been this close to losing all of his everything-thought not much, his few things meant more to him that he cared to admit. And how would he have gotten by without the over two hundred pounds stored in the zippered pocket of his bag? He didn't fancy sleeping on the streets unless he was traveling.

When Harry looked up, he saw that skyline was beginning to be tinted a dark magenta color in the east. The few stars that were normally visible around midnight began to fade in the decreasing darkness. He saw Orion, the Hunter, easily spotted by the three stars in a line, and next to it Sirius, the Dog Star.

Throughout the past few years, Harry had been outside a lot, and had become accustomed to his usual nighttime stargazing. Even when he had a place to sleep in a hotel or something of that sort, often he went outside to watch the sky anyway. The North Star was also a reliable way to see if he was going in the right direction, if he didn't have anything else to tell which way was where. And the night sky had always been strangely calming for Harry, especially when he'd still been living with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon and had been forced to do some of his outdoor chores after sunset. It gave a sense of peace that he so rarely felt in his life.

Without warning, Harry walked into something wide and large. No, someone. Not again, he thought. He hadn't wanted to interact with anybody else until he got to Yorkshire. "Sorry," he grumbled, pushing past the stranger without looking at them.

"Oh! No, it was my fault," the person answered. He sounded male. He paused. Harry looked at him. The mysterious stranger had short-cut blonde hair and brown eyes that looked like a dark wood. He towered over Harry in his tallness and appeared to be in his twenties. "What's your name, kid?" he asked. Harry still hadn't moved.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Evan Oakson," he finally answered, having been given his first chance to use his new fake name.

"Well, hello then, Evan. My name's Alexander-Alexander Weck," the older boy said happily. "You look rather lost. Where are you headed?"

"Nowhere." His voice was full of suspicion-why was this stranger being so friendly? Harry suspected that the blonde was possibly trying to trick him into going with him somewhere. But why? And where?

"Oh, hey," Weck said, putting his hands a little into the air. "I'm not trying to kidnap you, kid. I'm just headed north for the day, visiting my little brother-"

"No," Harry said sharply. "No, thank you. I have to go, excuse me." He began walking away.

"-in Yorkshire, God knows what that kid's been up to without me-"

Harry stopped in his tracks. Yorkshire. That's where he needed to go...But at the same time, he didn't want to just get into a car with some stranger he'd just met. Indecision ran through his veins until he finally said, his voice too loud for the quiet street, "Yorkshire, you say?"

Weck nodded. "Yeah, to this one apartment building my brother's staying in. Haven't check in on him much, I'm afraid. But I'm sure he's doing fine. Anyways, you need a lift there or something? I could use some company."

Harry considered his options. He could refuse Weck's offer, and continue walking all the way by himself, and get there in the next day or two. There'd be risk of being attacked by random guys on the street again, and food would most likely pose a minor problem. Or, he could go along with this Alexander Weck guy and get there in less than two hours by car. The risk was the possibility that Weck wasn't as nice as he seemed. Harry knew the consequence of that possibility, if he chose to go with him, would be more severe than if he'd just gone on foot. What if he crashed the car? What if he murdered him?

"My brother," Weck explained when he saw Harry thinking about his offer, "is just like you, Evan. He's lived on the streets for quite a while. I can see him in you. You look about the same age, too. How old are you?"

Harry didn't answer. Making up his mind quickly, he gave one last look at Alexander Weck, and rushed away in the direction he'd been walking in.

Aw, Harry was so close... ALSO, please review! They mean a lot to me and keep me motivated to continue this story!