Apologies for the delay, its been a very busy few months. Thank you for all the reviews, alerts, and favourites, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

A stuffed head went flying through the air, and Cedric lowered his aching arms.

"All right," he gasped. "That's enough for now."

Harry nodded equally breathlessly, and set his own sword down to go and retrieve his knives. There was a deep scowl on his face. "I am so out of shape."

A house-elf appeared with a jug of water and glasses, and vanished before Cedric could do more than nod at them. He poured himself a drink, and handed another to Harry. "You're nine," he said. "No one's expecting you to be in shape."

Harry's scowl deepened. Cedric couldn't exactly blame him. He used to be able to fight for hours, and now a short spar was enough to leave him out of breath. He put that thought from his mind with a shake of his head. Times had changed, and they were in perfectly adequate condition for their age. They had time to get stronger.

Harry still looked furious with himself, and Cedric bit back a sigh with an effort. Salazar had always expected too much of himself. This time though, Cedric suspected that more than his physical capabilities were bothering him.

"You'll hear from Remus soon."

Harry went perfectly still. Cedric set his glass aside to squeeze his shoulder. "You will," he repeated. "They care about you."

"You don't know that," Harry muttered, but he leaned into Cedric's touch. "They might have more important things to worry about. Black has been in Azkaban for years, he's going to need a long time to recover, and they're good friends so he'll need Lupin to help him..."

"Harry," Cedric interrupted gently. "Please. They will be glad to hear from you. I know it."

Harry's face clearly betrayed his skepticism, but he said nothing. Cedric glanced at the clock and sighed. He would have to come back to this later. "I'm sorry, but I need to go. I need to talk to the twins at breakfast."

He had spent the night thinking about what Percy had said, and had come to the inescapable conclusion that the older boy was right. Fred and George deserved an apology, if not an explanation. It wasn't their fault that Cedric was still working out how to balance his past and present lives.

Harry just nodded. "It's about time." He hesitated, eyes dropping to his knives with studied fascination. "I promise I'll be better about it this time."

Cedric crossed the distance in two quick strides and drew him into a hug. "We'll both be better," he corrected.

Harry didn't even pretend to fight against his grip. Cedric took a deep breath, letting his friend's presence soothe his nerves, and finally straightened. Before he could move away though, Harry caught his shoulder.

"Fred and George will understand," he said softly. "They've known you for years. You'd have to do more than avoid them for a few weeks for anyone to give up on you."

Warmth flooded Cedric's chest. He didn't have the words, but Harry's face twitched into the soft, genuine smile that only a few ever had the privilege of seeing, and Cedric knew he understood. Harry nudged him. "Go on. You're supposed to be the brave one here."

"Thanks," said Cedric dryly. "I'll see you later."

"This evening," Harry clarified. "You need to spend lunch with people your own age." His green eyes glinted mischievously. "All you old people need to stick together."

"Cheeky sod," said Cedric, through a laugh.

He was still smiling when he entered the Great Hall. For all that Godric had made it his mission to keep Salazar from the darkness, Salazar had been just as determined to look after Godric. It was good to know that nothing had changed.

For now though, Cedric had other friendships to work on. He saw two heads of bright red hair bent together at the far end of the table, and redirected his steps. A couple of his Hufflepuff classmates called out greetings, but while Cedric waved back he kept on track. He could catch up with his housemates after he had fixed things with Fred and George.

George was the first to notice him, and nudged his twin, but neither said anything. Cedric came to a stop opposite them.

"Good morning."

Fred scowled. "Sorry, do we know you?"

That was fair enough. Cedric sighed. "I'm sorry. Can we talk?"

The twins exchanged a look, then George's frown relaxed ever so slightly and he kicked the bench out. "It's about time."

It was more of an opening than Cedric had expected. He sat down, and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I've been so distant," he began, but that was as far as he got before a snort interrupted.

"You've not been distant," Fred snapped. "You've been avoiding us."

Cedric bit his lip. "I had some stuff to deal with. Stuff I had to deal with on my own." He looked down. "I know I should have been more open about it, and avoiding you both wasn't the right way to deal with it-"

"Of course it wasn't," George interrupted. "If you were having problems then we would have helped!"

Fred was nodding. "You should have just talked to us."

"I know," said Cedric. "And next time I will."

The twins exchanged one of their long, inscrutable looks, but just as Cedric was starting to get restless their faces split into identical grins. "Okay then."

Cedric blinked. "I'm sorry?"

He was used to apologies being a lot more complicated than that. Rowena was prickly, Salazar could be an absolute nightmare, and even Helga knew how to hold a grudge. There was always a fair amount of debate required for anything beyond a minor dispute.

But maybe he shouldn't be surprised. They were talking about eleven year old Weasleys, Weasleys that Cedric had known for most of his life. Maybe things didn't always have to be complicated. Fred rolled his eyes.

"You were a git, you know it, you're not going to do it again, we're all good."

"Anyway," said George. "We've got bigger problems, and you're just the wizard we've been looking for."

Cedric frowned at the pair of them. "What's going on?"

The twins exchanged another look. Fred looked one way, George the other, then both of them leaned in towards Cedric, grins nowhere in sight. "We need to do something about Snape," said Fred.

Cedric blinked, then nodded. "He has been a bit harsh lately."

The twins snorted, and Cedric grimaced at his own words. Harsh was the understatement of the century. Snape had always been unnecessarily sharp, but over the last week or so he had become downright brutal. Potions was becoming universally hated amongst the student population; Cedric's fellow Hufflepuffs dreaded Snape's classes, and he had heard even sixth and seventh year students stressing out about Potions in the Common Room.

"He made Alicia cry the other day," said George. There was no trace of his usual good humour to be seen in his face. He nodded down the table to where a group of first years were huddled over homework. "She didn't do anything wrong, she was just smiling, and he went mental. It's not right."

"Percy's complained to McGonagall," Fred growled. "So did Charlie, and the other prefects, and no one's doing anything! So we're going to instead."

Cedric sat back and looked at them. He recognised the set of their jaws, and the gleam in their eyes. They were going to do this with or without him.

Godric had spent his life fighting people who hurt others. Cedric couldn't do that yet, but he was very capable of helping his friends mess with a bully. He smiled at the twins.

"What did you have in mind?"

Harry didn't even try to stay in the Room of Requirement. He didn't have the fresh ingredients he needed to make really interesting potions, and digging through piles of rubbish wouldn't be enough to distract him. For a moment he considered taking one of the new school brooms for a test flight, but reluctantly dismissed that idea, at least until later that night.

Physical activity was good though. Cedric's words from the morning rang in Harry's ears as he slipped the best of the knives into his robes, but he squashed them down. He wasn't going to over-exert himself, but a change of scenery would do him good. Avoiding attention, and anything that wanted to eat him, while training would just make things more interesting.

Anything to stop himself from dwelling on the letter he had sent.

Getting out of the castle was insultingly easy. If not for his unique skill set, Harry would be seriously worried about their students. He was annoyed to find that the tunnel that came out closest to the Forbidden Forest had collapsed at some point in the last centuries, but at least it would give him and Godric something to do if they ever got bored. Not today though. Harry had a desperate need to throw sharp things around.

A Disillusionment spell got him safely to the forest, but Harry found himself pausing as he stepped beneath the trees. The forest had always been dangerous, they had placed it out of bounds for a reason, but now it felt different. There was a darkness here that he hadn't felt before. He reached for his wand, and grabbed a knife in his other hand. For a moment he reconsidered this plan, but stubbornness kept him in place. There was no concrete danger, and he could Apparate back to the castle whenever he wished.

Well, he had wished for a good distraction.

Mind made up, Harry started to make his way deeper into the forest. He kept his wand in his hand and his senses stretched as far as he could manage, but he found himself missing the further reach of the wards. They really had degenerated terribly over the years. As soon as he was stronger, and he had a properly matched wand, he was doing something about that.

Harry finally came to a halt in a small clearing about half an hour's walk from the castle. It was far enough that he shouldn't be disturbed by anyone from the castle, but not deep enough in for the Dark creatures Harry knew lurked in the forest to be disturbed by him. He swapped his wand for another knife, took a deep breath, and sprang into action.

Remus had always prided himself on the speed of his reading. He might not have had the raw genius of James and Sirius, but he had gone through books the way his friends went through Chocolate Frogs. By the time he got to seventh year Madame Pince had actually stopped glaring whenever he visited the library.

He had been staring at the letter in his hand for most of the morning.

Remus Lupin,

My name is Harry Potter. I've heard that you were friends with both my father and Sirius Black. Sirius Black, who I've just found out is my godfather.

If this is the case, then I want to know why he spent eight years in Azkaban for a crime that he may not have committed, leaving me stuck with my Muggle relatives.

I should say at this point that I am no longer living with the Dursleys. They didn't love, like, or want me, and so I left. You don't need to worry about me, I'm in a safe place, but I am not going back there. All I want now is to understand why all this happened.

I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about this letter. I am not going back to the Dursleys.

Harry Potter

Remus didn't know what to think. He had spent so many weeks going out of his mind looking for Harry, spent so many sleepless nights imagining what could happen to a lost child, let alone the Boy Who Lived...

He was barely aware of the door being thrown open and slammed shut, but Sirius' strident tones were impossible to ignore.

"Hallo, Moony! I found these in the corner shop. Not Firewhiskey, of course, but it'll smooth the way-"

"Sirius!"

Remus didn't often raise his voice. There was a crash of cider bottles being dropped, and the alacrity with which Sirius appeared would have been gratifying on any other day. He appeared in the doorway a moment later, eyes flashing with worry in his gaunt face.

"Remus, what-"

"Read it," Remus growled.

He thrust the letter into Sirius' hands, and stalked to the window. He had to get control over his emotions. If he couldn't then Sirius...

"What the fuck?"

Remus' hands clenched on the windowsill. He could feel the wood splintering under his grip, but even over the blood pounding in his ears he could hear Sirius' voice growing louder and more strident.

"He left? He ran away? He's nine, where the fuck could he have gone? We have to find him Moony-"

"We're going to," Remus bit out, but Sirius was still in full swing.

"He says he's safe, but how can we know that?" He was stalking up and down the room now, kicking aside any chairs unfortunate enough to be in his path. "He must be somewhere in the magical world if he knows what's going on with me-"

"Except there's a serious problem with that," said Remus quietly. "Harry doesn't know anything about magic."

Petunia had admitted to keeping his heritage a secret from him. In any other circumstances Remus would have had something to say about that. Sirius spun back, eyes blazing, then his cheeks flushed as he understood.

"Why was he left with those bastards in the first place?"

"Someone," Remus bit out, "thought it was a good idea." He looked up, and from the way Sirius' eyes widened guessed that the wolf was showing. "And there's only one person with that kind of faith in people."

Sirius went perfectly still, and then it wasn't just Remus' magic filling the air. His hands clenched into fists. "Dumbledore."

It came out more as a growl than any human noise. Not that Remus was one to talk. He thought of Dumbledore leaving Harry alone with Petunia, a family who hated him so much that he had run away from home, and his vision went red. He doubled over, years of self-control warring with pure rage, and couldn't suppress an incoherent snarl.

"Remus?"

The back of the chair split under Remus' grip. Splinters dug into his fingers, and the sharp stinging was enough to break him from his haze. Anger wasn't doing them any good here.

"Sorry," he managed. "I'm fine."

"I'm not," Sirius shot back. "What the hell was Dumbledore thinking?"

Hearing the Headmaster's name made Remus want to break another chair, but he forced the impulse down. "We've got to stop this," he forced out. "Getting angry isn't going to help Harry."

Sirius' aura of murder faded slightly, but he was still fuming. "I know, but how could he leave him with that old hag? No, fuck it, that's an insult to hags!" He ran a hand through his shaggy hair. His cheeks were still flushed, but even as he looked down at the crumpled letter in his hand his scowl faltered.

"Fine. You're right. But they're going to pay for what they did. And someone's going to answer for Harry being there."

Remus nodded curtly. He was hardly going to argue with that. Sirius took a deep breath, and smoothed the letter out.

"So if Harry doesn't know about magic, then how did he write this?"

There was a long silence. The air was still charged with magic and emotion and it was suffocating. Remus kept thinking about Harry, had to keep thinking about Harry to keep rage from overwhelming him, but that only led to more questions. He rubbed a shaking hand over his eyes.

"He could have found some of Lily's old things," he began, but Sirius was already shaking his head.

"You think Dursley would leave anything like that in the house? No, someone must have gotten to him."

Remus eyed him. "Sirius..."

"A Death Eater," Sirius growled. The crazed light was back in his eyes. "One of those scumbags must have found out where he was staying, they got into his head, they took him-"

"Sirius," said Remus sharply. "We don't know that."

"What else could it be?"

"I don't know!"

That admission left the two of them staring at each other, until Remus finally looked away. "He says that he's safe. And he wants to know the truth about you. I think that's a good sign."

Sirius cocked his head to one side. "Death Eaters would know that I wasn't one of them," he said. "But they haven't told Harry. They must still be working on him."

Remus raised his eyes to the ceiling. Azkaban had done nothing for his friend's ability to leap to conclusions. Or to think rationally. "Why don't we assume, for now, that Harry is, as he has said, safe and well and not under Death Eater influence? I'm not saying we just leave it," he added, when Sirius opened his mouth, "but we shouldn't jump to the worst conclusions with no evidence."

Sirius snorted. "Why not? Everyone else does." He folded his arms, scowl deepening. "So what do you propose we do?"

Remus gave him a grim smile. "What do you think? We write back."

It was only when he missed his target completely that Harry finally came to a halt. It was far sooner than he had planned, but he was shaking with exhaustion and he had to sit down before his knees buckled. Maybe he had pushed himself too far. Not that he would ever admit it to Cedric. He sagged back against a tree trunk, throat burning as he sucked in breath. Next time he would have to bring water. And think everything through a bit better.

Harry let his head fall back against the tree with a thud. Physical exhaustion lent a curious mental clarity. He didn't have the energy left to worry about what Lupin and Black thought of him. He had done what he could, just as he was doing everything he could to get into fighting shape. That would have to be enough.

Harry took a deep breath, and pushed himself to his feet. Everything ached, and his throat was dry and scratchy, but he felt better. He would be doing this again, albeit with a little more planning. Maybe he would bring Cedric with him too next time. His senses prickled, and Harry shivered. Bringing Cedric was sounding like an increasingly good idea. There was something in the forest, something Harry had never experienced before, and he didn't think he wanted to meet it alone.

That thought was enough to have Harry moving back towards the castle as fast as he could manage. He wasn't scared exactly, but he wasn't in any condition for a proper fight.

Fortunately, Harry arrived back at Hogwarts without further incident. Unfortunately, his journey to the kitchens was interrupted by a commotion in the Entrance Hall. Harry ducked into one of the secret passages to get a better viewpoint, wary of the number of students gathering, but the screeched insults that came to his ears froze him in place.

"-slimy Slytherin scum!"

Harry's heart dropped into his stomach, but the Slytherins were already on the offensive, "Look at that, more Gryffindors who can't tell us apart."

"What's to tell? You're all Muggle-born hating gits! Gonna join your dad in Azkaban, Travers?"

"Don't talk down to me you arrogant Mud-"

"Rictasempra!"

The slur was lost in a burst of forced laughter, and any further comment was drowned out by the sound of more hexes being thrown. Feeling sick to his stomach, Harry sagged against the wall.

He had known things at Hogwarts were bad. He had heard as much wandering the castle, and Godric had confirmed it, but to hear the hatred in the students' voices, their inability to see the other as anything more than a mortal enemy...

This wasn't what they had wanted. Hogwarts was a sanctuary, a family, somewhere people could come and be themselves and feel safe. This wasn't that. Hogwarts was divided, at war within itself, and if children couldn't contain their hatred then Harry dreaded to think of what the rest of the wizarding world must be like.

After a minute's stewing, Harry risked a glance out the passage. Teachers had arrived to break up the fight and the crowds were already dissipating, but one lingered. Cedric was staring after the two culprits as Flitwick led them away, and the expression on his face made him look far older than his years. One of his friends called and he turned away, determination smoothing into an age-appropriate grin, but Harry had seen it and his own resolve hardened.

They would fix this. They had to.

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