Harry James Potter was many things. He was brother to Mark Potter, the supposed Boy-Who-Lived. They were estranged, yes, but they were still twins, still brothers. He was the true Boy-Who-Lived, though only his friends knew it. He was a Horcrux- a very unwilling Horcrux with every intention of changing that status- of the so-called Lord Voldemort. He was a consummate Slytherin, an embodiment of the best traits of their House. He was the long-awaited Lightning Speaker, the one chosen to restore and remake and break the world. He was the Moon Lord Pollux Ophion Riddle, who had just recently helped free the werewolves of Britain from their ancient curse. He was a powerful young wizard, a visionary, a leader. He was destined to change the world. He already had changed the world! He was great already and on the road to even more greatness, more accomplishment.

He was also a thirteen-year-old boy with far, far too much on his slender shoulders.

The day after the werewolves withstood the full moon for the first time in their lives, Harry didn't wake up at his usual time. Remus Lupin, his godfather and guardian, thought nothing of it. Harry had stayed up late last night to watch over his people- and to receive their oaths of loyalty. The werewolf let his ward sleep in, reasoning that Harry deserved it. Tiptoeing out of their apartment, he headed for the docks.

He became a bit more concerned when, after returning from his long shift, he found that Harry still wasn't awake. The boy had apparently gotten up sometime that day- there were new dishes in the sink- but he was already in bed.

Remus rapped gently against his ward's bedroom door. "Harry?" he called. "You awake?"

Groans and shuffling answered him. A minute later, the boy himself opened the door. "Yes, Moony?" he asked, voice thick and dull.

"Harry, what happened to you?"

His godson looked terrible: paler than normal (which was saying something), his hair dull and flat, his reddened eyes underscored by ugly purple-black circles. He looked dead on his feet, nothing at all like the lively, happy boy he'd been a few days ago.

Or had he been? He'd been a bit quieter than usual, which Remus had chalked up to him growing up over the school year.

"Stupid question," he answered himself. "You're obviously exhausted."

A spark flickered in those green eyes. "I'm fine." He punctuated his denial with a yawn and a blush.

"Harry, when is the last time you took a day off?" Remus queried.

The boy thought for a long moment. "Define 'day off.'"

Oh boy. "A day off, as in you didn't do anything to try and save the world. A day off, as in you did things kids are supposed to do like playing or reading leisure books instead of training for war and breaking ancient curses."

Harry was forced to admit that he didn't know.

"I thought not," his godfather groaned. He rubbed his forehead. "All right, Harry, I want you to keep sleeping and eating for the rest of the day. Tomorrow, I just want you to relax."

Harry frowned. "But I have practice with Firenze," he pointed out.

He did. "All right. Other than training with Firenze, I want you to relax." It wouldn't do to offend the centaurs. Other than the werewolves, they were Pollux Riddle's only allies.

"You said I have to train three hours a day."

Oh, Merlin, he had. Dang it. Remus winced. "I suppose I did," he mumbled, wondering how to get around this. "But you're clearly too exhausted to-"

"I am not," Harry snapped, tiredness making him peevish. "I'm just fine, thank you very much." He drew himself up to his full (though not particularly intimidating) height. "I'm more than well enough to train and exercise."

The gears in Remus's brain whirled, searching for a way to fix this. He knew that, despite having Voldemort's memories, Harry still needed all the training and practice he could get. He couldn't afford to take too much time off. But he was also a boy, a child; even adults would stumble under the burdens he shouldered. The werewolf wasn't surprised at all that his godson was about to break; he was just shocked that it had taken this long. If Harry had been working constantly for so long that he couldn't remember his last break, then no wonder he was so tired. No wonder the stress had caught up with him right after the completion of his greatest task to date.

And no wonder that he was being stubborn about it. Harry had a work ethic that even Helga Hufflepuff would think was too much. The boy could be obsessive when he wanted to, which was not always a good thing.

"Six days a week," Remus finally decreed. "You can work as hard as you want to for six days a week, depending on Firenze's exercise schedule, but at least once every seven days you'll relax. Read a fun book, talk with your friends about normal kid things, go flying. Play pranks on Filch, if you want. Just don't overwork yourself. It's not healthy."

Harry did not look convinced.

Remus sighed again. "Go look in a mirror," he advised. "Then tell me if I'm crazy or not."

"I don't need to look in a mirror to answer that," Harry retorted, but he stumbled into the bathroom anyways. A yelp sounded from near the sink. "Merlin, I look horrible!"

"Exactly," Remus agreed. He continued, chipping away at his charge's armor, "And how long will it be until your friends end up in the same state? You should get together with them so you can schedule your days off. That way you won't have to worry about it."

Harry exited the bathroom, his pale face pink. "Maybe I should owl them now."

"Oh no you don't." Remus folded his arms. "Go back to sleep. I'll arrange a meeting for the day after tomorrow."

"Except with Hermione," Harry reminded him. "What with her vacation, and all."

"Of course. I'll talk with her once she gets back." Especially since she was likely the next to have a miniature breakdown, the next to work herself almost down to the bones. Like Harry, she had a tendency to push herself too hard. "Go back to bed, Pinions. Let someone else save your world for once."

The boy smiled, the exhaustion sliding away from his face. "Okay, Moony."

Remus smiled as his charge retreated into his room. The Dursleys had done a lot of damage, and Merlin knew that he was still inexperienced at this guardianship thing, but somehow, he and Harry would make it work.

Fluffy family fluff is fluffy and wonderful, don't you agree? Yeah. Me too.

Chapter 10 of Book 4 will be up in about ten minutes. See you then!

Also, I'm now taking prompts for this vignette series. Any requests, any questions you want answered? Just let me know!

-Antares