Child of the Dark Moon

by Sw-0608

Fleeing from Dudley and the 'Harry-hunters' under a full moon, Harry Potter saves his hated cousin from a giant wolf and is nearly killed. Severus Snape comes upon the bloody body not ten minutes later and takes the child into his home, against his better judgment. Can Snape come to terms with the vulnerable boy and help him to adapt to being a werewolf? (Manipulative Dumbledore)

36. Chapter 36: Trouble with Guardians

Rated T

(Disclaimer: don't own, never will, don't plan to. Just doing it for fun.)

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Chapter 36: The Trouble with Guardians

Harry looked up as Professor McGonegall and Madam Pomfrey left the Infirmary, and wondered where they were going. The lady Professor looked hurt. Harry settled back down and went back to humming his forgotten song to the sleeping Professor. After a few minutes, he heard footsteps and looked up again. Remus and Sirius were coming out of the nurse's office. Harry untangled his hand from the Professor's and sat up. The man shifted uneasily and muttered something. Harry made a shushing noise and put his hand back on the Professor's. The man shifted again, his face creasing in pain. Harry felt his heartbeat speed up and he hoped the Professor wouldn't start yelling again. That had just been awful.

Suddenly, his godfather was next to him, and Sirius gently grabbed Harry's hand, moving it to the Professor's chest. Almost instantly, his face smoothed out and he fell still again.

"It's got to be the bond," Sirius whispered. "Just stay touching his chest, alright kiddo? We did this spell to find you, and all three of us can feel this connection to you. If you stay there, it seems to help him."

Harry nodded, his eyes wide. "That's why my skin started glowing?" he asked in a hushed voice. "'Cause the Professor was trying to find me?"

Sirius grinned at him and messed up his hair. "That's right. He was really anxious to find you."

Remus sat in the chair next to the bed again and sighed. Sirius sat on the edge of the bed next to Harry.

The boy glanced uneasily from the werewolf to his godfather. "Am I in trouble?" he asked timidly.

Sirius messed up his hair again with a fond smile. "Nope, you're good," he said cheerfully. "We just wanted to make sure you're doing alright."

"I'm fine," Harry answered hastily, though he wondered uneasily what was going to happen to him.

"You sure about that?" his godfather asked carefully, watching him with his bright blue eyes. "You've been through a lot lately … especially the last few days. It's okay to be a little scared or worried right now. It's normal."

Harry shrugged helplessly, unsure of what the man wanted. "Long as I'm not goin' back to the Dursleys or the Dumble-man, I'm not scared," he answered softly.

"Harry …" Remus the Wolf suddenly spoke up. "How much do you know about your parents?"

Sirius shot Remus a suspicious-looking glare, and Remus looked back at him with an expression Harry couldn't read. It was really weird.

"The Professor said my parents didn't really die in a car accident," Harry answered cautiously. Then he looked over at his godfather with a slight smile. "And Snuffles told me my dad liked jokes and stuff."

Sirius winced and Remus shot him another weird look. Maybe Sirius wasn't supposed to tell him stories about his parents?

"Riiight," Remus said slowly and looked back at Harry. "So you know about the Dark Lord Voldemort who tried to kill you?"

Harry reached up with his free hand and rubbed the strange scar on his forehead. The name didn't sound familiar, but his Professor had told him about the Dark Lord and all that. "The Professor told me this Dark Lord tried, but he couldn't," Harry answered hesitantly. "He said nobody knows why."

"Your mother gave her life for you," Remus told him. "That is very powerful magic. The most powerful. Love so powerful it protected you from death. Dumbledore thought you needed someone related to your mother in order for the protection to keep working. So … that's why he put you with your Aunt and Uncle. Because your Aunt was the only relative of your mother's left alive."

"He was wrong," Sirius interrupted with a fierce scowl on his face. "McGonegall told him the Dursleys were the worst sort of people, and he never even checked up on you. He just left you there with those monsters."

Harry blinked in confusion and looked down at his lap.

"You're very special, Harry," Remus said softly. "There are people who are … not good … who would do anything to have you under their control. We just want you to be happy and have a normal childhood, but now all this stuff is happening …"

"And now I'm a monster too," Harry mumbled, blinking at the burning in his eyes.

"No!" both Remus and Sirius shouted at once. Harry jerked in surprise, looking wide-eyed at the werewolf and his godfather. Remus looked sad and in pain, while Sirius looked furious.

"Listen to me, Pup," Snuffles said earnestly, grabbing his shoulders. "You're a kid, not a monster. You're brave and smart and wonderful. Just because you grow fur and bigger teeth once a month doesn't mean anything, Harry. It's a sickness; it's not who you are. You're not a monster. Understand? The real monsters are people who think it's okay to beat kids or lock them up and starve them. The real monsters are those who don't care about decency and kindness and think it's fine to hurt people and use them. You're nothing like that. I love you, Harry. Got that? I couldn't love a monster. You're not a monster."

Harry nodded and bit his lip. "The Professor … he told me almost the same thing," the boy whispered. He glanced over at Remus, because Remus the Wolf had told him something like that too.

Sirius grinned and squeezed his shoulders. "Well, if two genius people are telling you the same thing, it must be true, right?"

Harry smiled shyly, (though it was a little wobbly and his eyes were swimming) and let his godfather pull him into a tight hug. He saw Remus smiling gently at him too and Harry smiled back, more of a real one this time. He wasn't alone, and his godfather and wolf were going to take care of him while his Professor slept. He had never felt so cared for. It was almost overwhelming

"I struggled with thinking I was a monster too," Remus said in a quiet voice. "But then I got friends like Sirius and James Potter who convinced me of the truth. I'm not a monster, and neither are you, Harry. Once a month, we'll struggle. We'll have pain and sorrow and we'll have lock ourselves away to keep from hurting anyone, but we'll come out of it human again. I will be with you as much as I possibly can … for your whole life, I pray. I hope … I hope that you and I can grow close soon."

"Me too," Harry whispered. And he realized that he meant it.

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He was everything and nothing.

Nothing made sense.

Yet, strangely enough, he knew that all was as it should be, despite the chaos. Key pieces of himself had returned and even though it hurt, he welcomed the pain and the healing it would bring.

The temple of his mind had been in ruins when he fell back from the blue strands of memory that invaded his very soul. Carrion birds circled above and rampaging beasts galloped through the chaos of his mind. He had no idea how long he had been fighting. It could have been years. Dumbledore's work went deep … far deeper than he'd thought possible. Even the Dark Lord had never marked him as the Headmaster had. Tom Riddle could at least appreciate the value of a brilliant mind. Dumbledore saw nothing but empty husks to be filled only with that which he desired. Severus wondered how he had never noticed that before. Dumbledore was brilliant in the way of geniuses, but he lacked a moral compass save that which he considered 'the greater good'. In his efforts to eliminate complications, pain, regrets, and defiance, he had wiped out a great deal of what had made Severus Snape who he was. He had changed, and he didn't even know he had.

Battling the birds that tried to destroy what was left of his mind, fighting the beasts that would tear down the progress he made, and trying to sort through years of memories quickly exhausted him. But he couldn't leave any of this undone. It had to be now.

Now or never.

He had to get back to his son.

The memories wrestled themselves into place; there was no trouble there. Each memory asserted itself and fell into its rightful room or fresco or prison cell almost without Severus thinking about it. It was the false memories created by Dumbledore that needed the most attention. Severus had to essentially obliviate them from his mind, or he would be forever confused; remembering things that had never happened, and then if he remembered remembering them, it would only tangle the paths of his mind all the more. But he had to be careful. Mind surgery was tricky at best, and he had never even done this sort of thing to someone else before, let alone himself. So, painstakingly, carefully, he trimmed Dumbledore's influence from his mental temple, fought the constructs that appeared to defend them, and thought he was doing quite well, all things considered.

And then everything blew up.

He had no idea what he'd done, or if Dumbledore had rigged something, but all of his careful work blew up in his face. His meticulous organization, his careful surgery, his fierce defense … it all went to hell. One minute he was banishing non-existent memories, next minute he was flying and falling and everything was noise and pain all around him. He was screaming, and trying to salvage something, sure that he was going to lose his mind or wake with no mind at all. Memories flashed past him too quickly to grasp.

Lily twirling in the sunlight, trees all around, flowers in her hair like some faerie of spring.

"I don't need help from a dirty little mudblood like her!"

Lily smirking at him over their homework.

Lily crying in his arms.

Lily beaming up at him with their son.

"I know you want to hold him, Sev," her playful tone seeming somehow sad. "Why don't you ever ask?"

"I'm not worthy, Lily. He deserves a father. I'm not a father."

Lily lying on the floor of the nursery as if asleep. But he knew she was gone forever.

Lily. Lily. Lily.

Everything was Lily.

His existence was Lily.

Suddenly his son was looking up at him. His dark messy hair framed a pale thin face, so much like his when he was a child. The boy's green eyes gleamed with intelligence and life and laughter. Just like hers.

"Are you actually my dad?" the boy asked anxiously, the worry on that small face making his heart break and grow tight at the same time. The boy's face was dragged away from him in a torrent of images and emotions.

He screamed as the pain of his memories assaulted him. His head was being stabbed by a million knives. His body was being wracked with the cruciatus curse. His heart was going to pound out of his chest.

"My son, my son," he cried to the darkness. "Where have you taken my son?"

"Harry!" he called. "Lily!"

But Lily was dead. His son was lost. Or was he? Severus didn't know anymore. He was being buffeted to and fro by his own mind, tearing itself apart. The pain was growing to the point that he was sure he must die, for he surely he couldn't bear any more of this …

Then he felt the flames of his agony cool, as if water was being poured over the scorched and flailing embers of his mind. A gentle hand was catching his hand, touching his face, and familiar magic rushed through his veins and back again, further soothing the pain in his mind.

He relaxed into the touch and the magic. He felt warmth … something solid and warm flowing through his skin and touching the raging waves of his consciousness. He could focus. He could regain his equilibrium and rebuild his mind. He thanked whatever power that be for granting him relief, and he watched as the storm of his emotions and memories slowly settled, leaving him in his mind's new landscape. It wasn't a field of rubble or a ruined castle. It wasn't a desolate canyon or the dark tunnels of a dungeon. He was standing in an open field of grass under a sky blushing with dawn.

His memories were no longer rooms or murals or frescos, but birds, insects, blades of grass, wildflowers. It was a mindscape which had been Lily's, the one time she let him in. The familiarity and rightness of the place calmed his panicked heart, filled him with peace, and gave him the strength to raise his hands. His new castle of memories, the home of his consciousness and stronghold of his psyche, would be here in a green field with dawn sky overhead and birdsong in the air.

According to his wish and magic, the foundation of the castle came into being, and though it was similar to the temple-like building that had housed his psyche before, it was different. He pulled images from fantasy and reality, crafting a castle that was a home and a fortress. Light shone through impenetrable stained glass windows, colour decorated the walls and floors, and statue-like sentries stood guard at the gates and in the halls. His memories inhabited the rooms, not as orbs of light in a desolate ruin, but as living, breathing people, or as decorations, pictures, statues, and tapestries. Every stone in this castle was a moment in time, a moment that had made him who he was.

He was Severus Tobias Snape. He was a genius, a Potions-Master, a Professor, a Head of House … a father. The dark-haired boy kept showing up. Crying in his arms, begging to be kept warm and safe from nightmares, grinning as he played chess, smiling as he cooked an omelet, frowning in concentration as he read a book meant for children three years older than himself, sleeping in the ruins of the Potter Manor …

He saw the boy as a baby, green eyes large and solemn, black hair soft and fuzzy against his scalp. Chewing on a toy dog, gurgling with pleasure as he made his favourite ball float back up to him from where he'd dropped it. The joy that suffused Severus' soul as he recalled that he had been the sole witness to his son's very first episode of accidental magic returned to him tenfold.

He saw the Dursleys, he saw his son, he saw Dumbledore. He saw Black and Lupin, he saw Filch and Poppy, he saw Minerva and Hagrid. He relived that which he had forgotten, and when they had fallen into place, it was as if he had never forgotten. He saw it all, and he knew it all, and every true memory settled into place, leaving him exhausted but content. His mind was strong and whole again. He had rebuilt it from rubble, and now it was stronger than it ever had been. He would rest, and then return to the land of the living.

His son was waiting for him.

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Minerva McGonegall had sent off an official letter to Augusta Longbottom first thing in the morning. Now that her arm was out of its sling, she was able to get down on her hands and old knees to floo the Burrow. When she tossed down the floo powder and called out 'The Burrow', she hoped that Mrs. Weasley was home. Not that she minded talking to the other members of the large family, but she and Molly went back a long way.

When the Headmistress poked her head into the green flames and blinked, she could see the cluttered sitting room of the Weasley home. Minerva took a breath, (mindful of the ash she might breathe in) and called out.

"Molly? Are you home? It's Minerva McGonegall."

A few seconds passed before the matronly woman bustled out of the next room, flicking her wand in front of her as a broom swept on its own. Molly Weasley looked a little flushed, but not frazzled. And judging from how quiet the house was, the children were probably off playing outside.

"Minerva, such a surprise!" Molly called out cheerfully. "Oh, you should come through; I can't imagine how your back must be hurting like that! I'll put the kettle on."

Gratefully, Minerva stood up and stepped into the Headmistress's fireplace, spinning through the floo system until she was set down in the Burrow. She bent her head and stepped out, watching as the fireplace shrank slightly behind her. Having visited Molly before, Minerva picked her way over the clutter in the sitting room and found the dining room.

Mrs. Weasley bustled out of the kitchen with a tea tray and a singing kettle. The Transfiguration Professor arched an impressed eyebrow.

"That was quick," Minerva commented.

Molly gestured for her to have a seat, and blushed at the praise. "Oh, it's nothing but a little shortcut. Dearie me, it's been forever since you stopped by for a social call, Minerva! I do wish you'd sent a letter ahead so I could tidy up a bit more, but I am glad to see you."

"I'm glad to see you also, Molly," Minerva smiled, seating herself at the table and wincing slightly at the stiffness in her joints. "It's been too long since we sat down to tea, just the two of us. Where are the rascals now?"

"Bill took them into town for ice cream," Molly said with a fond smile as she poured tea. "He's a dear, don't you think?"

Minerva chuckled and gratefully took her cup, laced with milk just the way she liked it. "They must have been getting underfoot in a bad way indeed for that boy to have noticed and done something about it." It was half a joke, really. Bill Weasley had been a prefect and Head Boy in school. If any Weasley was responsible, it was the oldest one.

"Bill really is growing up so fast," Molly said wistfully, dabbing her eyes with her apron and sitting down. "I think he knows it too. He's spending as much time as he can with the children, and I'm grateful. Gringott's is calling him back next week instead of after the summer, can you believe it? He's excited, of course, but we'll all miss him. How have you been doing, Minerva? Enjoying your vacation so far?"

Minerva grimaced and looked down at her cup. "Not really, no," she confessed. "There's been a mess of happenings lately, and I hardly know where to start … I suppose I'll start with Harry Potter."

"Harry?" Molly perked up at once, though there was worry in her eyes. "How is he, the poor dear lamb? He was so very sad to be leaving us, and we were sad too, of course. Still, Albus had to keep him safe, I suppose. It was a real treat to have him here, even if it was only for twenty-four hours … why, Minerva! What is the matter?"

"Harry was here?" Minerva asked, feeling slightly miffed that she hadn't known that before.

"Of course!" Molly replied, looked flustered. "Severus brought Harry here, and the poor child was suffering from heatstroke and dehydration and all, and Severus himself wasn't in the best of health either, but he insisted on returning to Hogwarts for potions and things. He never did come back for Harry as he promised, and Albus came the next day to take the boy to Bumblebee Manor."

Minerva sighed, realizing that Severus must have forgotten about it … or rather, Albus had erased it, and then had come to the Burrow and practically kidnapped the child. Harry had been safe enough here with the Weasleys; what had Albus really wanted?

"Minerva," Molly asked quietly, reaching out and laying her hand on the Transfiguration Professor's arm. "What is it? You look terrible."

"It's been a mess ever since that Daily Prophet article about Harry disappearing," Minerva replied mournfully. "I assume Severus told you everything?"

"He told us that the boy's family's been treating him abominably for years," Molly retorted with righteous anger. "Dumbledore knew about it, Severus claims, but Albus said he didn't know … I suppose I have no idea who to believe. He also told Arthur that Harry was attacked last month. The scars are dreadful."

"He didn't say what attacked him?" Minerva asked in surprise.

"No," Molly shook her head. "But we didn't ask."

"He was clawed and bitten by a Werewolf," Minerva said flatly. "His first Full Moon was the last one."

"Mercy!" Molly gasped, clapping a hand to her mouth and tears starting to form in her horrified eyes. "The poor child!" Mrs. Weasley quickly wiped her eyes, going from horror and compassion to righteous rage in a matter of seconds. "Well! Little wonder Severus wanted to care for Harry himself. Oh, I'm going to have words with Albus Dumbledore! Does that neglectful old idiot still have the poor boy?"

"No," Minerva smiled grimly. "A few nights ago, Severus and I, along with a couple of others, raided Bumblebee Manor and got the lad back. Severus was … well, he's unconscious, and we're not exactly sure why. Harry is with us at Hogwarts … and Albus has disappeared. We're not sure if he's dead or not, but the whole manor fell atop of him."

"Merlin sakes!" Molly complained, picking up her teacup again. "Gryffindors never do things halfway, do they? How in the world did the whole manor fall on him?"

"We're still attempting to figure that out. I suppose he brought it down a'purpose, but I've no idea why."

"So … you're saying Harry needs a home?" Molly prompted.

"He needs a temporary home at least," Minerva replied slowly. "Severus needs to go to St. Mungo's, and Harry can't stay at Hogwarts, no matter how much some of us would love to have him. Was he happy here with you?"

"Oh, I think so," Molly smiled. "He's such a good boy; so polite and sweet-natured. We'd love to have him for however long we can. I know the children will be bouncing off the walls to hear that Harry's coming back."

Minerva McGonegall smiled with relief. "I'm glad. Thank you so much, Molly. My other choice was Augusta Longbottom … but we all know how she can be sometimes."

Molly looked concerned suddenly. "Ah … well, if Augusta can take him, it would be nice, I daresay. Her grandson's probably lonely much of the time, and Longbottom Estate would certainly have stronger wards and even house elves. Harry might be safer there."

Minerva couldn't help but agree. Harry might be happier with the Weasleys, and vice versa, but there was no doubt that Longbottom Estate would be safer. "You're generous to a fault, Molly," Minerva sighed. "But if Augusta won't take Harry, it's good to know that you'll gladly open your home to him."

"Of course, Minerva," Mrs. Weasley beamed. "Now … I have a feeling there is a great deal more to that story of yours than you're telling."

"Oh there is," Minerva smiled and sipped her tea. "I'll tell you what I can. What I cannot, is not my tale to tell. You'll just have to ask Severus when he wakes up, if he wants to tell you."

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The Professor was sleeping better the day after he had been in so much pain, so Remus stayed with him while Snuffles took Harry outside to play. He was getting a little twitchy from missing the sun and the grass. Even when he lived at the Dursleys' house, he'd been able to go outside almost all the time to garden and paint the shed and do other yard-work. Getting locked in his cupboard for days at a time was a really bad punishment, but at least he could see pretty well in the dark now.

Once the big black dog led Harry to the big front doors, the boy had to try and open them himself. He couldn't, so Snuffles turned into Sirius and opened the doors really quick, then shifted back into his dog self. Harry sighed enviously as Snuffles tore off down the cobblestone path and into the grass.

"Wish I could do that," the boy muttered. Maybe turning into an animal was something only special magic people could do. He'd rather be able to do that than turn into a scary wolf monster every month when the stupid moon told him to.

Harry broke into a trot and then into a run, and saw Snuffles rolling around in the grass, snuffling and grunting like mad. It made Harry laugh. The two of them wrestled for a bit, then played tag, and then Snuffles played fetch, doing silly things when Harry threw the stick for him to run after. The boy was laughing so hard he had to lay in the grass to get his breath back. Snuffles brought the drool-covered stick back and then started licking Harry and nudging him with his wet nose. Harry shrieked with laughter, (it really tickled) and he could swear the dog was laughing too, if his snuffling huffing was any indication.

When they were both tired out, they flopped on the grass and looked at the clouds. Harry pointed out the shapes he saw; a castle, a whale, a rose, and a mermaid. He laughed at a really stretched-out one that he said was Professor Snape, and Snuffles laughed too. After some time, they were quiet, and the warm sun was making Harry sleepy. Insects buzzed and the heady smell of grass surrounded them, and Harry found himself remembering the last time he'd been out here.

"I wish the Professor were here," Harry said quietly. Snuffles raised his head and looked at him with wise blue eyes, and Harry rolled over so he could see the dog head-on. "He was reading a book right over there the last time," Harry explained, pointing at the tree where the Professor had been sitting. "And I was running around 'til I got too tired. Then we talked. He always said sorry when he was grumpy, and he never said I was stupid for asking questions." Harry trailed off and sighed, thinking about the nasty scars on his arms. "He said the Dursleys were bad … not me. But they always said I was the bad one." The boy pressed his lips tightly together and pulled at the grass. "I wish he'd wake up so I could ask him."

Snuffles nudged him with his nose, and Harry smiled at him, scratching him behind the ears like he liked.

"I'd ask him why he never came to the Weasley house to get me like he promised, and ask him if he really meant it when he said he wanted to take care of me, and ask him if he'd teach me how to make magic potions and medicine. He said he would let me help," he explained. "And of course I'd ask him if it was okay that I have a godfather too that's actually a dog, and if it's okay that I'm not mad at my Wolf anymore. He said he'd kill the wolf if he ever came close to me again, but Remus is sorry and he didn't mean it … and he's pretty nice."

Snuffles huffed and nudged him with his nose again, probably getting tired of the boring conversation. Harry laughed and let the dog roll him over on his back. A big black paw landed on his chest to pin him down, and then the dog was nosing and licking every bit of Harry that was ticklish until the boy was squirming and giggling. Before Harry could go off into full-fledged screaming laughter, Snuffles looked up and tensed. Harry sat up, aware that he was really messy and he probably had leaves and twigs and grass in his wild hair. A familiar giant of a man was coming closer to them, and a big dog was loping along at his side. Harry tensed nervously. He remembered the big slobbery dog, and he sort of remembered the giant man who had come and dragged the dog off him. He wasn't exactly scared, but he remembered being scared, so he was a little nervous.

He scrambled to his feet and put his hand on Snuffles' head.

"Why as I live an' breathe!" the giant man boomed, his brown hair and beard sticking out in all directions. "Lil' 'Arry! Yer back again!"

"Hello," Harry said in a small voice, watching the dog at the big man's side warily.

The giant looked confused to see that Harry had his hand on a big dog and still seemed scared of the drooling dog, but he grabbed his dog by the collar anyway.

"Fang won't hurt yeh," the giant said with an enormous shrug. "'Ee's just a bit too friendly sometimes. Er … yeh've got a dog there?"

"His name's Snuffles," Harry replied, feeling a little defensive. "And he's nice. He saved me."

"Ah, that's a good reason to befriend 'im then, in't it?" the big man grinned, looking really friendly and nice. Harry felt himself relaxing a little.

"I guess I'm not as scared of Fang as I was before," Harry said slowly. "You can … let him go. I think." As if sensing Harry's nervousness, Snuffles pressed closer to Harry's leg and whined quietly. Harry rubbed the dog behind his ears and the big giant let his dog go. Instead of running and tackling him like he did before, Fang lazily loped off, sniffing the grass without any care whatsoever for the strange boy and dog in his territory. The giant shrugged and Harry relaxed into a relieved grin.

"'Ee's the laziest dog I ever 'ad, an' that's sayin' somethin'," the giant grinned. "I'm Hagrid. Yeh may not remember me, but I held yeh when ye were nothing but a little tyke."

Harry smiled at the thought of being held in those enormous hands. Picturing himself as a baby, using one of the giant-Hagrid's palms as a bed …

"Are yeh out 'ere all alone?" Hagrid asked, looking around in concern. "Weren't Perfessor Snape lookin' after yeh?"

"The Professor's sleeping," Harry explained. "He got hurt, so he's resting. Snuffles is taking care of me while I'm out here."

"Oh," Hagrid answered, looking surprised. "Well, like I allus say, ain't nothin' like a good dog to take real good care of a tyke. I was workin' on sommat at my cabin, wanna see? Then we can 'ave tea an' rock-cakes afore yeh hafta go back."

Harry glanced at Snuffles, who didn't growl or shake his head or anything to tell him he couldn't, so he shrugged. "Okay," he answered. "Thanks."

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Sirius was partly amused and partly infuriated. The little project Hagrid was working on was none other than The Motorcycle. Sirius' pride and joy, the flying motorcycle that he'd worked on for years, had ended up covered in a filthy tarp in Hagrid's garden shed. While he was glad that his precious vehicle hadn't ended up in a junkyard or taken to bits, still, Hagrid had no idea how to take care of a muggle transportation device like this, and Snuffles whined forlornly when he saw how much work the motorcycle needed. Harry exclaimed over it, and Hagrid was bemused, since he didn't know that normal motorcycles didn't fly, and had no idea that it was actually called a motorcycle in the first place.

Trapped in his dog body, all Sirius Black could do was despair as he watched Harry and Hagrid bumble around his precious motorcycle without the least idea what they were doing. The dog whined, and whimpered, and tried to nudge them away from it, and even ended up howling at one point. Hagrid thought it was funny, and Harry couldn't figure out why he was so distressed. Snuffles decided to wait until Hagrid took Harry in the cabin to get that tea, and then he would lock himself in the shed, transform into a human, and try to figure out how to get his motorcycle up and running again.

It seemed like forever before Hagrid finally declared it was time for a break. Harry was filthy, covered in grease and dust and cobwebs, but the kid was grinning his head off, so Sirius decided he would be the horrified parent later. Right now, his poor baby needed him.

Left alone in the shed at last, Sirius shifted into a man and locked the shed from the inside. Groaning, he ran his hands through his hair before he crouched down next to the motorcycle to assess the damage. If Hagrid did his 'maintenance' once a year like he'd cheerfully told Harry, then the vehicle was sure to be in bad shape.

"Right," Sirius muttered forlornly. "That's the last time you loan Hagrid something of yours, Padfoot. The very last time."

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Remus Lupin glanced up from his book as the infirmary floo whooshed and Minerva McGonegall stepped out. The Werewolf closed his book and stood, glancing briefly at Severus, who was still asleep and seeming very calm today.

"Minerva?" Remus called quietly.

"Is something wrong?" the Headmistress asked sharply, dusting herself off. "Where's Poppy?"

"She's in the staff room with the School Governors," Remus replied grimly. "They came by and we couldn't find you anywhere. She's keeping them busy for now, but you'd best get up there right away."

"Oh sticklebacks," Minerva fumed, fretting with her robes and hair. "Couldn't they have waited an hour, at least? Alright, I'm going. How's Severus today?"

"Much better, Poppy says," Remus replied, relieved enough to smile again. "His fever broke and his mental activity slowed a bit. He's still unconscious, but at least he seems to be resting now instead of fighting."

"Well, that was quicker than I thought," Minerva mused, though she looked relieved too. "We'll talk later. I got an owl from Mrs. Longbottom while I was having tea with Molly Weasley."

Remus' heart bumped painfully in his chest. "Sirius took Harry outside in his Animagus form. They were both getting antsy."

"Good, good," Minerva said distractedly, hurrying from the hospital wing. "Stay here; and when they get back, do make sure Harry gets a bath. He hasn't had a proper one in Merlin knows how long."

Remus watched the Infirmary doors fall closed behind Hogwarts' new Headmistress. He hoped she wouldn't have too much trouble with the School governors. Most of them were old Pureblood lords, and they might object to Hogwarts having a Headmistress for the first time in almost two hundred years. But then again, most of them liked McGonegall to some extent, so she should be alright. She would be wonderful for the school. They had to see that.

Sighing, Remus went back to his chair and opened his book again. He found his place and commenced reading out loud, hoping that the sound of his voice might draw Severus back from whatever dark place he had fallen into.

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It was the end of a very long day for Remus, who'd spent it sitting by the unconscious Severus, wandering back and forth from the library, and staying out of sight while the School Governors toured Howarts. Naturally, he had spent half the day worrying about Sirius and Harry, out on the grounds. Thankfully, the two of them hadn't come in until almost suppertime and the Governors were in the Headmistress' Office, and then followed a bit of a fight to get the boy into the bathtub. It was rather surprising that Harry preferred Remus to his godfather, but in response to Sirius' pouting, Poppy had pointed out that it was instinctual bonding between werewolves that led Harry to trust Remus over Sirius. It was nothing personal.

But sadly, the day wasn't over yet. The Infirmary was once again the site of a hushed council in Poppy's office while a freshly washed Harry slept contentedly beside his still-unresponsive father in the main hospital wing. Minerva had had a difficult day, Remus could see, but she was still forcing herself to go on. Maybe if they got this all done soon she could go finish that vacation she probably had planned.

"I visited Molly Weasley and Augusta Longbottom today," Minerva told them.

"Are either of them willing to take Harry?" Poppy asked.

Sirius, who still looked tired and grumpy because Harry had unequivocally thrown him out of the bathroom when he was just trying to help Remus give the boy a bath, looked up with a scowl.

"I hate all this!" the Azkaban escapee interrupted. "Remus and I could take better care of Harry than most, and you know that! Besides, Harry's a Werewolf now. Do the Weasleys really want to expose their kids to that? Or does Madam Longbottom want to endanger her grandson?"

"You're being unreasonable," Minerva retorted, giving Sirius a severe glare over the tops of her spectacles. "You are a fugitive, and as far as the Ministry is concerned, a murderer and traitor. There is no way you could legally care for the Boy-Who-Lived and you know that."

Sirius huffed and folded his arms before he slumped in his chair, sulking. But he didn't say anything more.

"I'll pick Harry up for Full Moons whether he's with the Weasleys or the Longbottoms," Remus spoke up when he saw that no one else was going to. "Wherever he is, I can come get him."

"Thank you, Remus," Minerva smiled, her eyes twinkling suddenly with something like mischief. "Madam Longbottom is understandably outraged that young Mr. Potter was attacked, but I may have implied that it was one of Greyback's bunch that did it."

Remus winced even as he admired her cleverness. Technically speaking, her explanation would even hold up to veritaserum, since Remus himself, unbeknownst to most people, was technically one of 'Greyback's bunch'. He really wasn't sure if Madam Longbottom knew what he was, even though Frank Longbottom had certainly known.

"Tut, tut," Madam Pomfrey chuckled. "Minerva, your deviousness surprises me."

"Severus once told me that we all have an inner Slytherin," Minerva explained, still smiling. "I suppose I must, since that little bit of information simply slipped out without my thinking about it very much. Only afterwards I realized just how misleading it was."

"So where does that leave me?" Sirius complained, throwing his hands in the air. "Do I just go turn myself into the Ministry and demand a fair trial this time, or what?"

Poppy and Minerva frowned at him, disapproving of his immature behavior. Remus jumped in hastily to avert any scolding which would lead to a fight, knowing Sirius' current mood.

"You can keep staying at my cabin," he assured his old friend, even though he was getting annoyed with Padfoot's whining too. He knew the peevishness was mostly because Sirius would miss Harry, but he was also probably frightened. Who wouldn't be? After spending seven long years in a living hell, he wasn't eager to go back … or be kissed. But he was willing to do anything if it meant he could be close to his godson.

"Or I could go back to the one Prongs gave me," Sirius muttered petulantly. "You'd visit, right?"

"Of course, and I'd make sure you got to see Harry every now and then too," Remus replied easily, unsure if he should imply that Padfoot would be spending Full Moons with the two transformed Werewolves in front of Poppy and Minerva. They would be horrified to learn that Sirius had been doing just that since he was barely sixteen years old.

"You had better be careful," Minerva informed him severely. "Animals may be immune to Werewolf bites, but an animagus is not."

"Really?" Sirius asked, his eyes looking comically huge. Remus winced. He hadn't really known that piece of information either.

"Once you transformed back into a human, the werewolf venom would then be in your human bloodstream," Minerva explained, but there was a knowing glare in her eyes. "I don't want to know how you know that a Werewolf won't purposefully bother an animagus, but do be careful."

Sirius shrugged uncomfortably, but said nothing.

"So what did you find out from Molly, or Augusta?" Poppy spoke up, seemingly as eager to change the subject as Remus felt.

"Molly's more than willing to take Harry in, as you'd guess," Minerva replied. "But when she heard about Augusta, she said she'd only take Harry if we couldn't find anyone else. She knows a werewolf cub can't infect anyone outside of the Full Moon, but she knows that Longbottom Estate would have better wards and possibly even a house elf or two to help keep an eye on Harry."

"Wasn't Alice Harry's godmother?" Sirius piped up. "Sounds to me like old lady Longbottom's got a right to take care of Harry, more than poor Molly. She's still got like a hundred kids underfoot, yeah?"

"Only six now," McGonegall huffed. "Her oldest is going off for training with Gringotts next week."

"Oh right, Molly and Arthur's boy. What was his name?" Sirius groaned, rubbing his head as he tried to remember.

"Bill," Minerva supplied. "And he was a very bright student. Excellent in all subjects, as I recall."

"He also hardly ever came in here," Poppy sniffed. "His brother Charlie more than makes up for him, though. That boy is a lunatic."

"And he plays Quidditch," Minerva added fondly. "He's an excellent seeker."

"You'll certainly be sorry when he graduates, but I won't be," Poppy said teasingly. "That child is every mother's nightmare. I don't know how Molly does it. You know, Charlie told me he wants to be a dragon trainer."

"Alright, alright," Sirius interrupted. "So much for the reminiscing and what-not. What's old lady Longbottom say about Harry?"

"She wishes to meet with Harry," McGongall replied with a sigh, growing sober again. "She is concerned about many things, especially the Lycanthropy, but she is willing to care for Harry rather than send him back to those horrible muggles."

"I … had another thought," Remus spoke up hesitantly. "The wizarding world in general is prejudiced against werewolves, but … Hogwarts has a list of muggleborn students, doesn't it? I mean, Dumbledore's whole reason for leaving Harry with those awful people was that Harry would grow up without exposure to his fame in our world. Imagine what being raised as a celebrity would do to even the most innocent child."

Sirius, Minerva, and Poppy all stared at Remus, uncomprehendingly.

"What're you saying, Moony?" Sirius finally demanded.

"I'm saying that if we can't find anyone suitable, we should not dismiss the fact that there are muggleborn families who might be willing to … adopt, a child with special needs." Remus put up a hand to forestall the horrified exclamations of his friend, former teacher, and the school nurse. "Please, hear me out. I've actually found that muggles are more understanding of some things than wizards. They understand things like chronic illness, and so long as the symptoms are controlled, they more or less encourage the ill to enjoy a normal life. With me picking Harry up every month, there's really no danger to whatever family he might be living with."

After a moment of stunned silence, Minerva spoke up, her tone wary. "Let's … keep that in mind as a last resort," she said with a look over the tops of her spectacles. "If Augusta wants to simply lock Harry up as Dumbledore was doing, or if Molly is truly worried about her other children, we really would have no other course than to find an ordinary family to blood-adopt him."

"Unless his father wakes up," Poppy added with a significant look at the door, which was ajar so Poppy could hear the monitoring wards if they went off. "If Severus awakens with his mind intact, he will have first claim to his child, naturally."

"It feels wrong to be discussing his son like this, without him," Minerva admitted, her green eyes welling with pain.

"Yes, it does," Remus agreed. "But … according to werewolf pack laws, I have as much say over Harry as Severus does. Not that I'd ever take advantage, but … if it came down to it." He shrugged uncomfortably.

"Pack laws aren't the same as ministry laws," Sirius snapped. "Under Ministry law, you'd be treated much the same as a rapist, just with less rights."

Remus flinched and carefully avoided looking at his friend. He knew Sirius was right, but did he have to be so blunt about it?

"Right," Minerva sighed, changing the subject; or rather, dragging it back to where it was supposed to be. "So tomorrow morning, you and I will be taking Harry to see Madam Longbottom. Poppy, you're transferring Severus to St. Mungo's?"

The medi-witch nodded. "And Sirius is staying out of sight and out of mind, am I right, Mr. Black?"

Grumbling, Padfoot agreed, though he added something about his animagus form paying a visit to Hagrid, and something about a motorcycle. Minerva extracted a solemn promise that he would stay out of sight even as his dog form, because she didn't want Filch throwing a fit about doggy-prints or something, and they all called it a night. Nobody asked how the Governors' visit had gone, but since Minerva didn't seem worried about it, there likely wasn't anything to worry about. For now, she was still Deputy Headmistress, but if Albus hadn't turned up again by September, she was to be the official Headmistress. At least, that was how Remus assumed it would work. Hogwarts had already accepted her as its new Mistress, and unless the Governors decided to pick a fight with the castle itself, Minerva McGonegall would remain where it wanted her.

Remus wandered back to Severus' bedside, tucked Harry's arm back beneath the covers, and stole out of the Infirmary. He needed to start researching some things in the library, and with Madam Pince out on vacation for at least another week, according to Poppy, it was the perfect time to get into the restricted section.

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Harry woke up early the next morning, refreshed and energetic, but starving. Madam Pomfrey got him some breakfast and left him eating at Professor Snape's bedside table. He was almost done with everything when she came back with some clothes for him.

"Alright Harry, let's get you cleaned up and dressed," the nurse said cheerfully. "Are you nearly done?"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry answered cautiously. "Um … you don't need to get me new clothes, Ma'am Pomfrey. The Professor got me some nice clothes, if I need to wear some."

"Oh I know that, dear," Madam Pomfrey smiled kindly. "But you're going to need some proper young wizard clothes for today."

Curious, Harry slid off his chair and followed the nurse to the bathroom to wash up. "Wizard clothes?" he repeated nervously. "Why?"

"We've been trying to find a family you can stay with while we wait for your Professor to wake up," Madam Pomfrey explained while he washed his hands and face. As she handed him a towel, she continued. "You know you have a godfather, but did you know that you had a godmother too?"

"Really?" Harry whispered, his heart thudding painfully. He didn't know what to think, really. Was he going to go live with his godmother? Having a lady take care of him like a Mum might be nice, but he was starting to get tired of meeting so many strangers.

"Her name was Alice Longbottom," Madam Pomfrey said with a sad smile. "She … is not able to take care of you, but her mother-in-law, her husband's mother, is willing to talk to you and see if she can take care of you for a time. Her name is Augusta Longbottom, but you'd best call her Madam Longbottom. She's got a grandson your age."

"Um … oh?" Harry asked, feeling a little more apprehensive. Dudley, his cousin, was his age, but until really recently, Dudley had been a bully and a menace. "Er, what's he like?"

"I'm not sure," the nurse answered, but gave him a reassuring smile. "But his parents were good people, and his grandmother is quite strict. I'm sure Neville is a very nice boy."

Harry nodded. He would just have to take her word for it. After all, worrying about it wouldn't make a world of difference. Resigned to his fate, Harry dressed in the stiff, old-fashioned clothes Madam Pomfrey had, and over it all went a long robe like a dress. He wrinkled his nose at his new attire, but he didn't dare complain. He should be grateful for what he got, and he did remember to say thank you to the nurse. She smiled at him and bustled him out back into the Infirmary. Harry darted away from her to say good-bye to his Professor, and then bumped into Remus at the door. He looked a little tired, but he always looked like that. He looked like he was in new clothes too, and he had a long robe on as well. It was pale brown, which matched his yellow-flecked eyes and mousy hair, and had light brown patterns embroidered on it that reminded Harry of trailing vines. His black robe had some thin, dark green swirls on it like illustrations of the wind.

"You look very handsome, Harry," Remus said with an approving nod. And then he glanced at Harry's head and his smile turned mischievous. "Did you at least try to fix your hair?"

Harry reached up with a grimace and tried to flatten it. "Ma'am Pomfrey tried, but it never stays down," he answered with a sigh. "D'you think Ma'am Longbottom'll get mad?"

"I don't think so," Remus answered with a reassuring smiled.

"Will the Professor be okay 'til I get back?" Harry asked, glancing worriedly over his shoulder where Madam Pomfrey was busy doing something with her magic stick at the man's bed.

Remus squeezed his shoulder and pulled him gently into a side hug. "Madam Pomfrey is moving Severus to the hospital today," he said quietly. "We'll be able to visit him there."

Harry's eyes welled with tears. He wanted to run and fling himself on his Professor and never let him go, but if he needed to go to a hospital, then Harry really did need to let him go.

"We'll visit him? Promise?" Harry whispered.

Remus squeezed his shoulder again. "I promise, and don't worry. He'll probably wake up soon. He's just catching up on all the sleep he missed in school."

Harry looked up at Remus, surprised at the gently teasing smile on his face. Had the Professor missed sleep while he was in school? Why? Harry had missed sleep because of school work sometimes because he had homework to finish and so little time to do it, or Dudley stole his homework or destroyed it. He'd stayed up very late in his cupboard loads of times just trying to get it done so the teachers wouldn't send him home with a note. Maybe the Professor had lots of homework to do.

"Well, I hope he wakes up feeling better," Harry finally said.

"Me too," Remus answered.

Harry looked up at the Werewolf curiously. "Are you coming with me to see Ma'am Longbottom?"

"Yes," Remus smiled. "Professor McGonegall is coming too; we'll go as soon as she gets here."

"Are we jumping through the fireplace?"

"That's not considered all that proper in our circumstance," Remus explained. "We'll apparate there and knock on the front door, like civilized people."

Harry sighed and slumped. "I don't like jumping," he said mournfully. "Last time I did it, I almost threw up."

"It's not very pleasant to side-along," Remus agreed, though Harry had no idea what 'to side-along' meant. "I'll hold you very tight, and that might make it better, alright?"

Harry shrugged. "Okay," he agreed. He didn't really care either way, but if holding him tight helped make it less awful, Harry would take it.

"Are we ready?" Professor McGonegall's voice startled him. She came bustling up in a light green dress and hat, and she looked very old-fashioned and nice. Looking down at himself and at Remus' clothes, Harry felt like they were in some weird time-travelling story, dressing up to fit in with an outlandish culture.

"We're ready," Remus answered for both of them, sliding his hand off Harry's shoulder and catching his hand. "Are you ready, Harry?"

Harry bit his lip. "Can I please say good-bye to the Professor again?" he asked cautiously, worried he might make the grown-ups annoyed.

"Of course, Harry," Professor McGonegall replied, her light green eyes looking surprisingly kind. She didn't seem annoyed at all. "But do hurry; Madam Longbottom detests tardiness.

Harry dashed away to the Professor's bedside and gave him another quick hug. "Get better soon, Professor," he whispered in the man's ear. "You've gotta wake up. Okay, sir? Don't sleep forever and ever or I'll miss you really bad."

The Professor didn't respond, but Harry took his silence as agreement, and nodded back, before he dashed back to Remus and Professor McGonegall. If only the Professor would just wake up and take care of him. Worrying about who would take him in was going to become troublesome, he just knew it. The Professor had been perfect, and if he'd just get better fast, then Harry wouldn't have to wear weird robes and worry about being polite and meeting a strange new boy who was his age and had a strict grandmother …

Sometimes, Harry simply wished he'd stayed home that evening instead of going out to get Dudley for supper. Then neither of them would've met Remus the Wolf and life would be just normal and he wouldn't have to worry about all this trouble.

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I have A LOT of loose ends to tie up, so bear with me here. Don't worry, Snape is going to wake up. Eventually. I can't tell you when. I like leaving you all in suspense. ;)