AN Disclaimer Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling I own nothing. This is fanfiction, I make no money out of this whatsoever. Now that's out of the way...

Chapter 13

Sirius sat at the desk in the study, fingers drumming impatiently against the wood as he reviewed Moony's letter for the umpteenth time in his mind. In some ways the letter hadn't come as a surprise, he would never have expected Remus to be anything but protective of Harry, but at the same time so many parts of it had been a surprise and a shock to the animagus. Years of living in the same dorm as Remus, and then their years of friendship under a backdrop of war, never mind the suspicions that had grown at the end, meant that he could read the man's emotions well, even through the print of a letter. His eyes dropped again to the parchment of the letter, crumbled now from the number of times he had held it, often too hard as the message bored into him.

Dear Harry's Guardian It read.

I do not know your name, or even if you want anything to do with me but for Harry's sake I hope you will read this.

Doubtless by now you will know of the escape of Sirius Black and the threat he poses to Harry and you must have taken steps to protect him but I am compelled to warn you this may not be enough. I was friends with both James Potter and Sirius Black in school, and I thought I knew him. The events of that Halloween showed me that I never knew Black at all, but regardless I know him well enough to tell you this.

Black was always formidable, even as a teenager. He knows an immense repertoire of spells, and that is not including Dark ones he will have learnt from Voldemort, he is reckless, but most importantly he is determined. He fixes onto something and he never stops until he had found or done the thing he wants to and at the moment the thing he wants most is Harry.

He won't stop searching, and as much as it pains me to admit it he is clever, clever enough to hide from all of us, including Dumbledore, his real allegiance. So please, please take Harry and run. Take Harry and run and don't look back. I do not normally beg but when it comes to Harry I have no other option. Hide him, keep him safe, don't let Black finish the job he started, and please don't let their deaths be for nothing.

Please protect my cub,

Remus Lupin

Sirius let out a deep breath as he allowed his eyes to drift upwards to the ceiling of the study once more. The letter was hard to read for several reasons, firstly the accusations that Remus levelled at him stung, particularly the idea that he would ever hurt Harry, but the more rational part of him could understand why Remus thought of him that way. It definitely hurt, but looking at the situation logically he knew that if he believed Remus was out to kill Harry he would have reacted in exactly the same way. Both he and Harry would have already run so far that nobody would ever find them again.

But the harder part for the animagus was the sender and the old emotions the letter had pulled up in him. Reading the words on the page, and understanding the emotions behind them, the desperation and pain, had pulled him back into memories he had been rather ruthlessly suppressing. It had pulled him back to his days at Hogwarts, to the times when the Marauders had thought that they were kings and nothing and no one would ever separate them or break their friendship. Everything that had happened that Halloween night. To everything that he had lost.

He was able to remember his Hogwarts days, and to an extent what had happened afterwards, Lily and James getting married, having Harry and the events up to his godson's first birthday, those he could remember fondly, without tainting them with the war and all the sacrifices that had been made. But anything after that point was too painful, too tainted by war and everything he had lost. Even though it had been five years since James and Lily had died he still had not even started to recover from their deaths. In Azkaban he had been too focussed on staying sane and making sure Harry was alright to have any time to grieve.

But now he had settled down, now he knew that Harry was a safe as he could make him, many of the memories that he had been suppressing had risen violently to the surface, a situation that had only been worsened by Moony's letter and the emotion he could almost feel bleeding behind every word.

The arrival of a small boy rather forcefully pulled his attention back to the present. Somehow Harry had slipped into the room and was in the process of climbing up onto his lap. Slightly puzzled Sirius helped the child up and he was further startled when Harry wrapped his arms around his and snuggled into his chest. Instinctively Sirius wrapped his own arms around the child, "Harry what..." he managed to get out before Harry spoke up,

"You're sad," he said simply, "I wanted to make you feel better." Wide innocent eyes looked up at Sirius as the child somehow managed to snuggle even closer. Sirius leant down and pressed a kiss into the messy black hair, he couldn't hang onto his black mood when he was holding his godson. Somehow just by his very presence Harry could pull him out of the awful memories and show him again that hope still existed and that he had a reason to live.

"Padfoot better now," the small voice said, and Sirius glanced down and saw his godson's shy smile peek up at him.

"Yes Harry," he murmured against the child's forehead, "Padfoot's better now."

"Good," Harry said happily, but he didn't make any move to leave, instead he just burrowed back into Sirius's embrace, completely content to stay nestled in his godfather's arms, and Sirius had no intention of letting go.

Remus Lupin did not receive much post, in fact he knew he hadn't received more than two items of mail that were not related to his muggle employment (no wizard or wizarding firm would even think of hiring him) since that awful night five years ago. Therefore it was rather a shock to the young werewolf to find an envelope sitting prettily on his rather worn wooden table, his name printed on it in a handwriting that, whilst it was not familiar, still had a strange sense of familiarity about it.

It was the lack of all other addressing that proclaimed this letter to be a wizard one, and whilst Remus had some contact with the world he had been born into and brought up in, he did still have a weekly subscription to the Daily Prophet, and he did still enjoy his collection of wizarding books, many of them gifts from his parents and the Marauders, otherwise he had lost virtually all contact with that world. He visited the wizarding hotspots, namely Diagon Alley and Hogsmede rarely, and while he used magic for convenience at home, (transfiguration and colour changing charms were invaluable when it came to furnishings and clothing, particularly on his meagre budget), otherwise he hardly touched his wand. There was nobody in the wizarding world that he had kept in contact with and as such the letter was more than a little shocking.

He approached it warily, some instincts from the war had never really left him, but the detection charm came up clean and he picked up the letter, absently noting that it was written on paper rather than the thick parchment that was a lot more popular with most wizards. Fingers slit the letter and he gently pulled the contents out onto his palm and immediately sat down. Hard.

The bright scrawl of a child's drawing peeped up at him, showing him the fantastical sight of a knight fighting a dragon. Part of his brain recognised the scene as one from the old muggle myth George and the Dragon as he stared down at the image. It was a simple affair, done in crayon and the drawing was messy, proclaiming the artist to be no more than six or seven but to Remus it was a priceless treasure. There was only one child whom he had ever tried to contact, and flipping the sheet of paper over he saw the words that confirmed his suspicions.

TO MR MOONY,

THANK YOU FOR THE BOOK AND CHOCOLATES. THEY WERE VERY NICE.

LOVE HARRY

He didn't know how long he sat there staring at the paper, his eyes devouring the message and the picture, his only link to the green eyed child he considered to be a cub of his pack. He had been beginning to lose hope that he would ever be able to contact Harry. He had been regularly sending presents and the occasional letter for five years now and he had never received any indication that anything had been received.

But this single piece of paper gave him a sense of hope that he hadn't felt since James and Lily's death. He felt a few solitary tears slip down his cheeks. For a werewolf pack was everything, and his had been torn away in a single night, the cub being the only survivor and he had been unable to take custody. He had damn near broken down, in a world where he would never be accepted, his pack had been the only thing keeping him together and that had been taken away. But now everything had changed, he could be part of Harry's life, not a big part true but the lonely werewolf would take any connection to the boy with both hands. And more importantly, this picture showed him that for the time being at least Harry was safe, for the traitor would never encourage the child to contact anyone who could tell him the truth.

Eventually he managed to tear his eyes away from the drawing and it was then he noticed a second piece of paper had also been held in the envelope and been cast aside when he had spotted the picture. Curiously he opened it, glad he had not decided to stand up. An adult's handwriting stood out on this page, evidently Harry's guardian and whilst he didn't recognise it, there was still something familiar about the script, something he couldn't identify and couldn't quite place. He shrugged the feeling aside, it was probably from somebody in the Order that he had met before but never really known well, and he preferred to concentrate on the letter.

Dear Mr Lupin It read,

Thank you for your concern, I am reliably informed that you were indeed a good friend of the late James Potter and your advice on the Black situation was most welcome. Information from those who knew them best is always the most valuable and I have taken your suggestions into account. Rest assured that Harry is safe and as long as I have breath in my body I swear to you that Sirius Black will never harm a hair on his head.

With regards to the situation with Black I request that you tell nobody that you have even a small measure of contact with Harry. If nobody knows, nobody will come to you for information and nobody will then have the potential to breach our protections. I have been assured you are trustworthy but if any knowledge makes its way into the wrong hands there will be hell to pay. I will not risk his safety for anything.

On another note I would appreciate it if you could write to Harry maybe once or twice a year with stories of his parents and particularly of his mother and father's Hogwarts days. Whilst I tell him all the stories I can, I had little contact with Lily between her going to Hogwarts and her marriage to James, so Harry and I would appreciate anything you, as one of their good friends could tell us.

Regards

Patrick Evans

PS Address letters to Harry Potter and Patrick Evans and send them by a private owl, anything else will be redirected to a different location.

Remus let out a slow breath as he finished the letter, happiness beginning to well up inside him as he realised the chance he had just been given. Patrick Evans, he presumed he was a relative of Lily's, an Uncle or cousin perhaps, had given him the greatest gift he had ever received since three boys had told him flat out that they didn't care he was a werewolf and the revelation they had become animagi to be with him. He wouldn't be able to meet Harry, he doubted it would be safe, but being able to send him letters and receive replies was more than he had ever dreamed of. He had been given a chance to be part of Harry's life, his silence was a small price to pay, and he was not going to waste it.

He hurried to his study, his mind flicking through the stories he could write down as he searched for pen and paper.

Sirius's mind drifted to the letter he had just sent off. He hoped it had been a good idea to contact the old wolf, he had used his best 'pureblood' script, one that his mother had spent hours drilling into him and one that bared little resemblance to his normal handwriting, so that Remus wouldn't get suspicious but he didn't know if it would work. He knew it had been a risk to contact Remus, but he knew how much the old wolf had to be hurting and he couldn't bring himself to deny either Remus or Harry this. He knew if he had been in Remus's position he would have wanted any contact possible and he knew he could ensure everything went as smoothly as possible. Through a combination of a letter box miles from where they lived, and house-elf magic no tracking charms would ever stick and he could ensure Harry never wrote anything in his letters that compromised them.

He had added in the last paragraph as an idea had come to him. He had only really got to know Lily once she had started going out with James and he could tell Harry little of her Hogwarts days or her childhood. Remus had started to get to know her in fifth year when he had been chosen as a prefect and he knew a lot more than Sirius did. Harry would always enjoy the new stories and any way to involve the old wolf without having to meet him and give up their secret, putting all of them in danger was something he was seizing gratefully.

The small figure of his godson was almost cowering behind him, clutching his hand in a vice like grip and looking at the school gates before him with something akin to terror. It was the first day of the Spring Term and Harry was starting the local primary school and whilst Sirius had expected some problems, the child was very shy and from what he had gathered, he had never had a very pleasant time in his previous school, with the favourite break time game being Harry hunting but he hadn't expected his godson to be quite so scared.

He knelt down, stroking his fingers over the child's messy mop, dyed brown like his own hair, and the famous scar covered by muggle makeup. "It will be alright puppy I promise," He said soothingly, "It won't be like your old school."

But Harry shook his head, fearful eyes staring straight at his godfather. "They'll chase me and call me a freak and step on my glasses." He pressed himself against his godfather's chest, clutching onto the man's clothing with both hands. "And you won't be here," the small boy whispered. "I don't want you to go, you're the only person who likes me."

Sirius drew in a shaky breath, he hated having to force Harry to do anything, but he knew the child needed an education which he couldn't provide. He pulled the boy towards him, nestling him against his chest. He could feel the slight frame shivering and the fear that was pulsing in sharp bursts across the bonds and his resolve almost broke, but he knew that if he took Harry home now, he would never be able to bring him back to school.

"Little one," he said in a soft voice, "I won't be far away, and I'll come back the moment I feel that there is something wrong. The children here won't be mean to you, but if they are I will make sure they won't be mean to you again." He focussed on sending calming waves of love and reassurance over the bond, and slowly he felt Harry begin to relax. "I'll never be more than five minutes away and I'll be waiting for you at the end of school."

"You won't leave me?" Harry asked in an extremely small voice. Sirius heard the double question in words and answered both.

"Never puppy. I won't abandon you and when the school day finishes I will be waiting for you right here." He gently kissed the boy's forehead. "You will never be alone again." Finally he felt his godson relax in his arms, and he stood slowly, keeping hold of Harry's hand, "Let's go and meet your new teacher little one. Remember Ben, you can't tell anyone else secrets."

He saw the little boy nod seriously, his sharp fear replaced by a sense of nervousness and determination, however Sirius kept sending a steady stream of love and comfort over to the child, realising his godson needed the reassurance now more than ever. In response he saw Harry send a timid smile up in his direction and shift slightly closer to his side. He smiled tenderly down at the boy, brushing a comforting thumb over the back of the child's hand as they entered the primary school.

The teacher was a kind faced young woman who took one look at the shy child, half hiding behind Sirius before she leant down and held out her hand, talking quietly and slowly. Harry didn't quite understand all the French but he caught the gist of the words, and hearing the kindness in her voice allowed her to eventually take his hand and lead him to join his new classmates.

Sirius watched him go, raising his hand to wave when Harry glanced back, some of his own doubts rising in his heart. He didn't want to be separated from Harry any more than Harry wanted to be separated from him, but his logical side had overruled his emotions. Harry needed an education, he needed to be able to write and read and do maths, and later he would need to know how to write essays, cast spells and make potions.

As much as he wanted to he couldn't just hide Harry away and hope the world never came looking for their saviour, for as much as the idea appealed to him he knew it wouldn't be possible. Even if he virtually imprisoned the child in Potter Mansion it would not be safe, not to mention he refused to imprison his godson, even in a place like Potter Mansion, he knew too well what it felt like and he would never subject the precious child to that.

But that meant he would have to prepare Harry for the world that would greet him when he turned eleven. And so he would teach him, teach him muggle martial arts and swordmanship so he could defend himself, teach him occulmency so he could protect his mind and once he turned ten and could get his first wand as the Potter Heir, teach him how cast spells and defend himself. But he would not rob the boy of his childhood, so Harry would go to school, learn the practical skills Sirius would struggle to teach him, have fun, play and make friends. But most importantly of all, Harry would always be loved. He was not going to spoil the child when it came to material goods, but when it came to love Harry was going to be the most spoilt little boy on the planet.

To his great surprise Harry found that he was enjoying his time at school, while he didn't understand everything the children were saying, most of the time he got the general gist of their conversations, and he had learnt a lot more French in a very short time. The teachers were kind to him, and to his utter shock the boy he was sitting next to had smiled at him and started to talk to him quite happily, telling him all about the town and his family, as well as pelting Harry with questions once he found out he was from England. Harry couldn't answer all of them, but he quickly discovered that didn't matter, Louie would jump instantly to the next one, or tell him what the French equivalent was.

He had wondered what to do at break time, having never really played with children of his own age before, as Dudley had always made sure that nobody wanted to be his friend, but he didn't have to wonder long because Louie, evidently decreeing Harry was his responsibility, dragged him off to play football with the other boys. It was a new experience but one he found himself enjoying.

Halfway through the day another though occurred to him too, his teacher Mademoiselle Befort had handed out a maths test and he realised that he could do as well as he liked as there was no Dudley to accuse him of cheating and Padfoot would want him to do well. It felt nice not to have to deliberately put down the wrong answers when he knew what the right ones were and he handed it in with a happy smile, knowing he had done well for once in his life.

But still, no matter how much he had enjoyed the experience, as the clock inched round towards three, he found himself impatient for school to end. He had missed Padfoot and he didn't want to wait any longer, having to be content with the flickers of emotions he could feel if he concentrated hard enough.

When the bell finally rang he bolted out of the classroom, his eyes searching the gate where Padfoot had said he would be. Seeing Padfoot standing there, he launched himself at his godfather, wrapping thin arms round the man's legs and clutching on tightly. A rich chuckle sounded above him, "Missed me little one?" Padfoot asked gently as he reached down to pull Harry up into a hug, pressing a kiss into his hair. Harry didn't bother to answer, he just burrowed deeper into Padfoot's embrace. Padfoot smiled tenderly and took Harry's hand, enfolding it in his much larger one before leading him over to his motorbike.

Once he was settled on the bike, resting against Padfoot's chest, one of his godfather's arms holding him securely, he snuggled contentedly back into Padfoot's safe hold, drinking in the love he could feel surrounding him. For, no matter how enjoyable school was, it would never be better than being with his Padfoot.

Hi all, yes I know it has been three weeks since the last update, but as those who read IoH already know I caught the flu last week, which put me a week behind schedule. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it and please review!