Hermione and Ron stayed for dinner and so, to Harry's surprise and trepidation, did Dumbledore. The old man denied that this had anything to do with the news that Voldemort had captured an Order spy. "I merely wish to sample Molly's excellent cooking!" he announced cheerfully. "And there are a few things I need to talk to Remus about."

Lupin nodded. The man had come back from the last full moon looking even more ragged than ever, and was only just starting to behave quite like himself again. Lupin was one of those people of whom Harry's memories were a bit fuzzy, if he was honest with himself, but he was sure the man had smiled occasionally.

Harry didn't pay much attention to the dinner. It was hard to pay attention to anything when he was constantly listening, waiting. His whole body seemed to be on edge. Sirius was upstairs having a nap while Draco watched over him, but somehow that didn't make him feel any better. His hand started to ache as it always did when he was angry or nervous. He rubbed the stumps of his fingers and tried to eat while letting the conversation wash over him.

"...opened the cupboard and there were four or five first years just sitting there," Hermione was saying. "No one seems to have any idea how long they were - don't laugh, Ron!"

"I'm sorry!" Ron spluttered. "I was picturing it!"

"Those children will crawl into the darndest places," Ginny said, grinning impishly.

It was a safe conversation, free of any mention of the Order or Voldemort. Such subjects were not generally mentioned at the dinner table, for secrecy, or perhaps just because it was easier not to think about those things for a time. Harry privately thought it must be nice to have that luxury.

"Thank heaven there are only two more days left of term," Hermione sighed.

"Uh oh," Ron said, his eyes widening. "Hermione wants school to be over. Look out, universe must be ending."

"Shut up, Ron."

"Now now Hermione, that's not very Professorly language." Ron glanced up at Harry, perhaps hoping he might join in the inane banter. Harry could only manage a weak smile in return.

o-*-0-*-o

As soon as dinner was over, Harry excused himself in the hope of a few quiet hours with his son, but Ron got up and followed him. "You all right?" his friend asked as they trudged single file up the stairs. The pace was excruciatingly slow, but Harry still had trouble with stairs, particularly in Grimmauld Place where it was all stairs.

"Fine," Harry muttered, absent-mindedly.

"Mmhmm. Don't think we didn't notice how much you didn't eat."

Harry sighed and hauled himself onto the top floor landing with difficulty. "I wasn't hungry."

"Uh huh. Okay."

"I wasn't, Ron."

"I said, okay."

Harry rolled his eyes and pushed open the door to Sirius' room. He felt the warm tingle of the wards as he passed through them, and wondered how difficult it would really be for Voldemort to break them. The man could make a whole island invisible. A few wards around a baby's room… would it really present that much of a challenge?

Draco was perching on the edge of the crib, muttering. "What's the matter?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Hm?" Draco blinked owlishly, looking up at them as if he hadn't heard them enter. "Oh, nothing. Just thinking."

"You know who talks to himself like that?" Ron said cheerfully. "Peeves."

Draco scowled. "Don't even compare me to that pathetic poltergeist -"

"Hush," Harry said, low, and bent over the crib. Sirius made a soft snuffling noise in his sleep. Since Harry's first visit, there hadn't been nearly as much wailing.

Draco was staring at him. "Did you just hush me?" he demanded.

"You heard him, Malfoy." Ron grinned.

"Weasley, I swear, if you -"

"Both of you," Harry snapped, in a half-whisper. "If you have to bicker, kindly go do it somewhere else. Actually - " he paused and stood up. "Ron, I have to talk to Draco about something," he said, only somewhat apologetically. "Do you mind?"

Ron frowned. "Well. Okay then. Come find me later, all right?"

Harry nodded and turned back to the crib. As the door closed, Draco floated around to the other side, looking curious. "What's up?"

Harry watched Sirius' tiny face for a moment, letting that image sink into his mind, willing it to fill the empty places. He had more or less decided that all he could do about his lost memories was replace them with new ones.

Then he looked up. "That look on your face, before. Did someone tell you?"

Draco made a face. "Oh, fine. I was going to tell you… I just figured you'd get all noble Gryffindor on me and try to figure out a way to stop it. I'd much rather you didn't, though."

Harry frowned. "Um… what are you talking about?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Blaise."

Draco's expression suddenly went dangerous. "What about Blaise?"

"He's missing."

"What?"

"I told Snape you'd freak."

"Fuck." Draco took a step back into thin air and ran a hand through his blood-streaked silver hair. "You know where he probably is, don't you?"

Harry nodded grimly. "They - we - didn't leave anyone behind to guard the place, did we? Voldemort's probably moved the whole island by now."

"Fuck," Draco repeated. He looked like he had the sincere urge to punch something. He started pacing up and down the nursery. "Times like this," he muttered angrily to himself. "Times like this, I really wish I wasn't fucking dead."

Harry resisted the urge to tell him to watch his mouth around the baby. He had a feeling it probably wouldn't go down well. "I'm sorry," he said instead. "If I was better…"

"Well you aren't," Draco snarled. "And there's no way I'll get that far on my own. Bloody buggering hell."

"You probably wouldn't be able to do anything, anyway," Harry said. He had hoped this would be comforting, but the ghost gave him a glare worthy of his father before the madness had set in.

"Thanks, Potter."

"I just meant -"

"I know what you meant." Draco shook his head angrily, his hair falling forward into his eyes. It made him look even worse than usual. Harry couldn't help but feel sorry. He, Harry, was healing, had whole clothes borrowed from Ron's old wardrobe, and was able to look, for all intents and purposes, like a normal human being, if one suffering from a slight lurgy. Draco was stuck forever looking the way he had in his last moments of life - bloody, torn and bedraggled. Harry knew it was the last thing that Draco - prim, proud Draco - could have ever wanted for himself. But that was beside the point, wasn't it? Harry shook his head. He wished his head would stop taking him places he'd rather not go.

"So…" he said, when the awkward silence had stretched to almost breaking point. "What were you going to tell me?"

"Never mind." Draco did not even look up but walked over to the wall that faced the outside of the house. "I'm going to go haunt the garden for a while. Can you handle things here?"

Harry glanced down at Sirius' still sleeping form. "I suppose so. But what -"

"Right. Don't leave him alone."

Harry sighed. "I know, Draco."

Without the slight luminescence given off by Draco's ghostly presence, it was a few degrees darker. It couldn't be any later than seven o'clock, he thought, but he went and closed the curtains anyway. He sat down in the armchair and pulled his feet up over the arm, gazing up at his own shadow on the wall. Lost in his jumbled thoughts, he forgot entirely what Ron had said about coming to find him.

o-*-0-*-o

William had been a werewolf since the age of eight. The Muggle man who had bitten him - Thomas, his name was - hadn't meant to hurt him, but had broken out of the cage he had designed for himself and had been unable to control his impulses. William could understand that, as much as he wanted to hate the man for ruining his life forever. Thomas had later taken his own life.

Thank Merlin for Hogwarts, William often told himself, and thank Merlin for the Snape and the Wolfsbane potion. He couldn't imagine what it must be like to be a werewolf and a Muggle, with no idea what was happening to you. The first month after his bite, the man called Lupin had come to his parents house and patiently explained what was going to happen to their son. William had been too young to understand at the time, but now knew he was lucky that his mum and dad hadn't thrown him out of the house at once. Since then, he had spent full moons wherever Lupin happened to be, both of them on Wolfsbane, curled up together in a cage somewhere. Lupin always made sure there was a cage, or at the very least a locked door, in case of accident. There had been a few occasions when the potion had not been as strong as usual, and William had found himself lashing out at the older wolf. Luckily Lupin had a lot more practice at self control, and usually managed to bat the pup into submission without causing too much damage. William knew how lucky he was, when he watched Lupin dress after a transformation, his skin littered with scars, his body visibly stiffer and stiffer with every passing moon.

It was surprisingly easy to keep his 'furry little problem' secret, as well. When you were William, no one really paid much attention to you, so it was easy to feign a night in the hospital wing every now and then, with a couple extras during the new moon so as not to arouse suspicion. It had become somewhat trickier since he had made real friends, but there had been the whole Jensen thing. This did not stop Quin from berating himself for his lack of observational skills, however.

"But its so obvious now," he whined, while William was trying to read the latest Julian Fischer. The train car rattled cheerfully as they neared London. "I just can't believe I never cottoned on. Are you sure it's been all three years?"

"I was eight," William muttered. He really wished the redheaded menace would stop talking about it. While he might not have had it quite as bad at Lupin, who had been transforming 'cold' since the age of four, the sensation he experienced twice a month of having his skin ripped apart and turned inside out as his body contorted into another shape was still no laughing matter. "I think I'd remember. Can we shut up about it now or do you want the whole train to know?"

Beth reached over and put a hand on his knee. The girl had changed, William thought, from the timid, pudgy Beth Green who had come to Hogwarts at the start of the year. Since being released from the hospital wing last March, she had become for the most part, much more lively, and even smiled more. Both her and Quin were friendlier in general, William thought. Perhaps it had something to do with the near-death experience, but he preferred to think it was his own mature influence.

"But how come you have to stay with him?" Quin asked, refusing to change the subject. "You usually go home, don't you?"

"Yeah," William nodded, letting Julian Fischer drop into his lap with his index finger to mark the place. "But Dumbledore wants me staying with Lupin this summer. Dunno why, but Mum and Dad said it was okay, so." He shrugged. It was a little annoying that his parents hadn't put up more of a fight, but then, he knew what a burden his condition put on them during the holidays. Some of their wizarding neighbours were not quite so unobservant as the Gryffindor third years.

Lupin was there, waiting for him at Kings Cross station. "Hello sir," William said, a little apprehensively. He and Lupin usually got on well, but recent events had strained their relationship somewhat. William had been told to keep his head down, and apparently stalking a Magical Law Enforcement mission onto a magical Dark Wizard prison island was very much against the rules. He had known that, though, and he had still done it. From William's point of view, it wasn't as though he could take it back, now.

"Mr Ross," Lupin said. "How were your exams?"

"Fine thanks," William muttered. Beth and Quin had come up on either side of him, dragging their trunks.

"Bye then mate," Quin said, patting him on the shoulder. "See you next year."

"Stay out of trouble," William told him firmly.

"I make no promises," Quin laughed, hugged Beth around the shoulders, and wandered off to where his parents - both as redheaded as he was - were waiting.

Beth grabbed William and squeezed him around the middle. "Bye," she said softly. "Be careful, all right?"

"You too," William said, and meant it. Being a Muggleborn was almost as dangerous as being a werewolf, these days. He knew some of Beth's family had already been killed by marauding Death Eaters.

"It's nice to see you making some friends," Lupin said as they walked out of the station with William's trunk on a trolley. "Even if I disapprove of what the three of you have been getting up to…"

"We haven't done anything recently," William protested. "Beth and I are mostly keeping Quin in line."

Lupin nodded. "Glad to hear it."

There was a pause in the conversation as Lupin helped him load the trunk into an old, battered-down car. Then, when he was sitting in the passenger seat with the ratty old seatbelt tightly fastened around his waist, looking out of the window at the scenery dashing past, he took a deep breath. "I told them," he said, quietly.

Lupin glanced over at him, surprised, before turning back to the road. "Oh?" he said after a moment.

"Well… I sort of had to. They both saw me hit with the Killing Curse." He linked his fingers and shuffled back in his seat. "I don't mind, though."

"Don't you?"

"No. They've been great about it. Except Quin asking too many questions, as usual."

He saw Lupin's lips curl into a half-smile. William thought he could count the number of times he had seen Lupin smile on one hand. "Then you're lucky to have them," he said, almost inaudibly.

William nodded, though, with Lupin looking out at the traffic, he wasn't sure the man saw. "So… where are we going?" he asked.

"Somewhere safe," Lupin replied shortly. "I'll explain when we get there."