Two weeks had passed since Harry Potter had come to live with the Lupins. Those two weeks had been the most wonderful and terrifying weeks of his young life. Harry swung between elation that he'd finally been chosen and wanted by real wizards, and terror that he would disappoint the Lupins, only to be brought back to the children's home.

He remembered their faces that day at Mrs. Mason's. Both looked a little nervous, especially Remus. Harry was at first worried about Remus' appearance – worn, lined, scarred, and in shabby clothing. But Mrs. Mason had assured Harry that the Lupins were 'competent guardians' and had gone through the process just for him. For Harry.

Naturally, Harry tried to stay out of everyone's way, to show he deserved to be there, and was worth whatever expense the Lupins incurred to keep him. He was painfully reminded of Uncle Vernon every time the Lupins spent anything on him; he fretted that any day now, the Lupins would decide Harry wasn't worth it and they would return him to the children's home. To his surprise, Remus and Lyall didn't want him to stay out of the way. Nor did they mind spending money on him. They hadn't bought him anything especially nice or new, but they didn't grumble at the till when they made their purchases. They even wanted to spend time with him and talk to him. They wanted to be with him. It was all very bizarre.

That Tuesday morning started off like many of the previous mornings. He woke, made his bed neatly so as not to disappoint his caregivers, and padded quietly towards the kitchen in case he made too much noise. He could still recall Uncle Vernon screaming at him for making too much noise.

"Harry, good morning," Remus said brightly. "How are you?"

"Good."

"Would you like toast and bacon again today, or something else?"

Harry often wondered what other breakfast foods might be available at the Lupins', but always kept his requests simple. He couldn't go back to the children's home now – not after all the real magic he'd seen. "Toast and bacon, please."

"You know you can have other things, Harry," Remus said. "I'm not the best cook or baker, but I could try for you."

Harry was silent for several moments. He didn't dare ask for anything else. What if he suggested something that made Remus angry?

"I'll tell you what. I made Welsh cakes this morning and they're delicious with tea. Would you like to try one?"

Remus held out a plate with cinnamon-dusted cakes, and Harry gingerly took one from the plate, taking a small bite from it. The cake was gone in an instant, leaving Harry hungry for more.

"You liked it, eh? You eat a little too quickly. Your face is covered in cinnamon," Remus said, offering both a smile and a napkin to Harry.

"I'm sorry I eat fast," Harry apologized, feeling the agonizing sense of dread that he would be kicked out of the Lupins' home.

"No, don't apologize. I can imagine you had to eat quickly with your previous guardians."

"With Dudley if I didn't eat fast enough I wouldn't get enough to eat," Harry said softly. "Mrs. Mason's was a little better. Aunt Marge's was the worst."

"I don't want you to feel you need to eat fast here. It's just me and my dad, and I promise we won't take your food. You'll always have enough to eat."

Harry nodded, and sat in the dining chair, squirming. At the Dursleys', he would help with the dishes or cooking, and at the children's homes, he was often hiding from the other children, who often picked on him for being so strange.

It wasn't as if he ever meant to break windows from the other side of the room, or light an armchair on fire, or turned a teddy bear into a real toad. These things just happened to him.

Luckily, Remus and Lyall had explained that these were acts of accidental magic and they were perfectly normal for young wizards who didn't know how to control their magic yet. Harry had never been so relieved to hear that he wasn't a freak. He was a real wizard.

"Are you going to work today?" Harry asked, seeing Remus gathering his things.

"No, actually. We're both going back to Kent."

Harry froze. Back to Kent? They were returning him! What had he done?

The sound of shattering glass startled both Harry and Remus. With a quick flick of his wand, and a spell that sounded like Reparo, the window was fixed in an instant.

Harry was trembling in his chair, awaiting for the punishment or yelling he would inevitably receive, too scared to marvel at the way the window was repaired so quickly.

"Harry, are you okay?" asked Remus, kneeling down in front of him. Remus reached out a hand, but Harry flinched again.

"Can you tell me what's wrong? I promise I'm not upset, Harry. I'd like to know what went wrong to make you scared or angry."

"You're taking me back," Harry whispered. "You're not keeping me."

"Oh, no, no, Harry. Not at all. I phrased that so poorly." Remus sat back, looking steadily at Harry. "We have to go to the Muggle doctor. I'm going to talk to him about taking you off of the pills they make you take, because I don't think you need them. Besides, you're a wizard. I doubt those pills are doing anything to you. If you needed medication, you'd take potions."

Harry looked up, relieved. "I don't need them?"

"I'm not a doctor or healer, but I think you're a perfectly normal wizard and everything you've experienced is more of you being scared or angry. Remember? That's what happens with accidental magic."

"Are you going to keep me?"

"Of course I am," Remus smiled. "As long as children's services allows me, I want you here with me. To do that, I have to take you to the doctor."

"You promise you'll keep me?"

"I promise I'll do everything I can to keep you, Harry."

"Okay."

"Good. We'll be taking a Portkey there, which is a special kind of travel for wizards. It might make you a little dizzy, but it's safe and fast."

Harry perked up upon hearing that they would be traveling like real wizards that day. Remus and Lyall had taken him walking to the nearby village for all of their things, but they hadn't traveled anywhere far yet.

"Make sure you wash your hands, and we'll be going."

Harry got out of his chair, and looked down the hall towards the other Mr. Lupin. "Is Lyall staying here?"

Remus looked surprised. "Do you want him to come with us?"

"I don't want him to feel lonely," Harry confessed. Though Lyall was a little grumpy, he always checked on Harry at night after Remus did.

"That's considerate of you," Remus grinned. "Why don't you ask him?"

Harry nodded, and went down the hall to find Lyall's room. He knocked on the door, and heard Lyall's gruff "come in."

"Harry, I wasn't expecting you," Lyall said. "Is something wrong?"

"Remus is taking me to the doctor and I didn't want you to be lonely. Do you want to come with us?" Harry felt a little nervous, but Lyall put him at ease immediately with his crooked smile.

"No, son—" Harry's heart skipped a beat upon being called son by the grandfather-figure "—I'm staying here to wait for you both. Be good for Remus and your healer."

"I will," Harry vowed. I will be good. I will be worthy. I will be wanted. The words, like a mantra, swept through Harry's mind.

"Go on, son. I'll be waiting for you."

Harry felt the inexplicable, unexpected urge to wrap his arms around Lyall, but felt unsure if the older wizard would like the affection. He kept his arms limply at his side, and decided to give Lyall a quick smile before coming back out to see Remus.

"Ready, Harry? Is my dad staying here?"

"He is. He called me son," Harry said softly. Remus looked surprised, and then concerned.

"Is that alright with you? Being called son?"

"It was nice. Like I belong. Like he wants me."

Remus' face was unreadable, and his arms twitched at his side. He let his arms fall to his sides, motionless, as Harry had done before, and flashed Harry a tight smile.

"Why don't we go? I'll show you what a Portkey is, and once we're done at the Muggle doctor, we can get you more clothes."

Harry was gobsmacked at the thought of getting more clothes. He had enough trousers and shirts for every day of the week now. They weren't especially nice or fancy, but they fit him perfectly. He didn't need to tie anything off or make new holes in a belt. To make it even better, Remus and Lyall had promised that the clothes were now his.

"I can get more?" Harry asked, awed.

"Of course. We'll be going to secondhand shops, if you don't mind," Remus said lightly. "I know it's not as nice as brand new clothes, but it will do for now." Remus looked at Harry expectantly, as if seeking his approval.

"That's good." He really didn't mind secondhand clothing. It's all he'd been used to for years and was simply glad to have more clothes that fit properly and that were of his own choosing.

"Good," Remus exhaled in relief. "Let's go." Remus led Harry out to the back garden, where a rusty watering can awaited them.

Harry saw Remus check his battered watch, and take the watering can off the wobbly iron table.

"This is a Portkey," Remus said, pointing to the watering can. "In a few minutes, it will glow and take us, spinning, and we'll land in Kent. It might make you a bit dizzy, but it will be quick."

Harry was fascinated by the seemingly normal watering can. "This is real magic?"

"As real as it gets." Remus smiled kindly at Harry and nodded. "Why don't you put a hand on the handle of the can?" He paused momentarily, and looked curiously at Harry. "Do you mind terribly if I hold your shoulder? I want to make sure you come along with me."

Harry nodded nervously, and Remus gently took Harry's shoulder in his large, scarred hand. Harry then held the handle of the watering can as it started glowing. He almost jerked his hand back in wonder at seeing it glow, and then it felt as if a fish hook had stabbed his navel, taking him with it. They spun higher and higher until they were slowing down.

Harry was suddenly grateful for Remus' firm, comforting hand on his shoulder. He felt as if he were going to fall face first into the ground, until Remus was righting him upwards.

"What did you think?" asked Remus, once Harry was steady on his feet.

"It felt funny, but that's okay," Harry said nervously. He hadn't really liked the Portkey, but he was still too afraid to say what he felt, in case that was the only kind of real wizard transportation. If he was going to be a real wizard like Lyall and Remus, he would have to get used to his new reality.

"You know, Harry, it's okay to say if you don't like something. Portkeys aren't my favorite, but they're fast and easiest when traveling far distances, or with underage wizards. We can try Apparating on the way back, but that might be more uncomfortable for you at first."

"Is it better or worse than the Portkey?"

"It's different," Remus said simply. "It's even easier once you're of age, and you get used to it. I can Side-Along Apparate you on the way back, if you'd like."

Harry was unsure, and scratched his messy hair. Remus bent down to meet Harry's eyes, wincing as he did so. "Why don't we go to the doctor first, then shop, and once we've done all that, you can see how you feel?"

Harry nodded, and Remus led him towards the familiar doctor's office, a sparsely decorated space with abstract art and vinyl armchairs that Harry had never truly felt comfortable in.

Remus sat Harry down on a worn vinyl bench, and went towards the tall, bony receptionist that reminded Harry a little too much of his Aunt Petunia. A few words were exchanged, and Remus sat back next to Harry. Within a few minutes, a nurse called "Potter" and Harry led Remus to the door, where he met with the psychiatrist.

"Ah, Harry," Dr. Banks greeted. "Come in, come in." Dr. Banks glanced behind Harry and frowned, before looking through the paperwork. "You must be Harry's new guardian, Mr. Lupin?"

"Yes, Harry's been in my care for the last two weeks," Remus replied. "Am I allowed to stay for this meeting, or should I be leaving?"

"Don't go, please," Harry said, trying not to sound too pleading. It wasn't as if he disliked Dr. Banks, but Remus had come to be a comforting presence, like a real parent.

"Mr. Lupin can stay with us for most of the appointment, but I'll ask him to excuse himself for just a few moments later on," Dr. Banks said, looking between Harry and Remus. Harry looked back up at Remus, who was smiling softly, and sat next to Harry in one of the worn vinyl armchairs in the stuffy little office.

The first several minutes of the appointment, the doctor went over the usual questions on Harry's habits – eating, sleeping, mood, behavior – all of which were dull and 'normal.' When it came time for questions on his 'delusions' or 'hallucinations,' Remus stepped in.

"I haven't noticed anything unusual," Remus said carefully. "Harry appears to be a typical boy for his age, I think, although I haven't spent much time around children. My father and I haven't seen anything out of the ordinary."

Dr. Banks frowned, and rifled through the massive stack of paperwork. Harry shifted uneasily on his seat, sweat gathering under his legs under the heat of the office. It became painful to unstick his legs from the vinyl, and he sat, fidgeting.

"Harry, do you mind if I speak to your guardian, Mr. Lupin, for a few moments? It won't be long. You can wait out in the waiting room."

Harry's eyes darted between the doctor and Remus. What if the doctor was going to tell Remus he was a terrible boy and shouldn't be kept? What if the doctor told Remus he was all wrong about Harry?

"Don't worry, Harry," Remus said kindly. "I'm sure it won't be but a few minutes." Dr. Banks nodded and Harry unstuck himself from the heavy plastic of the seat, shuffling towards the door with a sense of dread. He went back out to the waiting room, where he found a seat next to a fake potted plant. An older woman was muttering to herself from the other side of the room and rocking back and forth. Harry chose to ignore her, lost in his thoughts.

He considered for a moment how delicate his current situation was; he had longed for years for someone to come rescue him from his previous situations. He finally had that someone – someone who knew his parents, no less – and everything felt as if it were going to be snatched from him at any minute. It was always how happiness had been. Elusive.

"Harry?" He looked up to see the nurse again, beckoning him towards the office. His footsteps felt heavy as he wondered what Dr. Banks and Remus had discussed in his absence. Remus was waiting for him just outside the doctor's office.

"Dr. Banks would like to speak with you alone, Harry, but I'll be right out here if you need me," Remus said. Harry nodded and went into the office, closing the door behind him.

"Harry, it's good to see you," Dr. Banks said briskly. "Please sit." Harry did as he was told and took the seat Remus had just occupied.

"Your guardian, Mr. Lupin, tells me your delusions and hallucinations have been improving under his care. Is that so?"

"Yes?" Harry was unsure of what to say; the Lupins had told him that magic was supposed to be a secret. Dr. Banks and the others were called "Muggles" because they couldn't do magic. Now that Harry knew his 'delusions' were really bursts of accidental magic, he was unsure of how to reply honestly to the doctor.

"Tell me a little more about living with the Misters Lupin, Harry. How do you like it? They treat you well?"

Harry brightened instantly. "Remus and Lyall are the best. I have my room and my clothes. I have all the books I want and they take me to the village with them. Remus made Welsh cakes this morning for me and we took a magic watering can that spun us in the air to get here!"

He realized his mistake just a moment too late. Dr. Banks had been smiling and nodding along as Harry recited all the wonderful things that had happened to him since arriving at the Lupins'….and the Portkey. The magic Portkey.

"It sounds as if you're enjoying yourself, Harry," Dr. Banks said, through a tight smile. "There is no such thing as a magic watering can."

Harry sat back, suddenly feeling anxious. What would Remus or Lyall do to him if they learned about revealing magic? Would they take him away? Would they return him?

"It's all right, Harry. Mr. Lupin thought your delusions and hallucinations had gone away, but they haven't. I'll be writing you another prescription. Can you get Mr. Lupin for me?"

Harry nodded weakly and opened the door. Remus was smiling at him, and all Harry felt was disappointment in himself for letting Remus and Lyall down. He had exposed the world of magic to Dr. Banks, and he was terrified of what magical punishments would look like.

"Ah, Mr. Lupin, it appears that Harry's delusions aren't gone," Dr. Banks said coolly. "It is no matter. You must not be experienced with special needs children. Harry was just telling me of a magic watering can that be spun you both in the air to get here. I assume that isn't true?"

Remus' jaw clenched, and he nodded curtly.

"I assumed so," Dr. Banks continued, scribbling on several small sheets of paper. A short stack was handed to Remus. "You know where to take these?"

"I do. Is there anything else I should know, doctor?"

"Be back in eight weeks, and we'll take it from there."

"Thank you, doctor. Harry, can you say thank you as well?" Remus asked gently.

"Thank you, Dr. Banks," Harry said tonelessly. He watched as Remus took the thick stack of prescription paper and stuffed it in his pocket.

"Let's go, Harry. We're going to shop for clothes now, remember?"

Harry blinked, wondering what Remus had planned now that he had exposed the secret of magic to Dr. Banks. Remus was as kind and steady as ever, and led Harry out of the doctor's office, back to the small alley they had arrived in from the Portkey.

Remus lifted his hand to his pocket and Harry flinched, waiting for whatever would come.

"Harry? Are you all right?"

He stood, trembling, wondering if he could run away fast enough from a wizard.

"I'm not upset with you, Harry." Remus winced as he knelt in front of Harry. "I know you didn't mean to mention the Portkey. I was listening to the entire time."

"You were? How?"

Remus grinned. "Magic, of course. I'm not at all upset with you. These things happen. We're going to keep going as we did before. We'll stop by the drugstore to get these prescriptions filled, however that works, and we'll get you clothes. What do you say?"

"You…you're not mad? You're not…you won't punish me?"

"Merlin, no, why would I do that? Is that why you flinched, Harry?"

Harry nodded, feeling guilty and embarrassed at his behavior. He should have known that Remus was different from the others. Remus and Lyall – they seemed to care for him.

"When you're ready, I would like for you to tell me about your life before you came to live with me and my dad. I want you to feel you can be honest with me, okay?"

"Okay."

Remus smiled again and stood, leading Harry back out to the street, to finish their day of errands and shopping.

….

It was late one evening when Harry was sitting in his bed at the Lupins', nose in a new book. Several days had passed since their day at the doctor's and since then, Harry had doubled his wardrobe and made his bedroom his own. Remus had helped him choose a paint color, a new bedspread, and choose more books for his bookshelf. Although the clothes were secondhand, the bedspread and books were new, and they were just for Harry. He was reading James and the Giant Peach, finding a kindred spirit in the orphan James.

A low rumble interrupted Harry's focus. It was usually quiet by the night, and he pondered what might have disrupted the peaceful silence Harry had so come to treasure after a year in noisy, chaotic children's homes. He dogeared a page in his book, set it down, and made his way out of his room, surprised to hear Lyall and Remus arguing. Curious, Harry crept towards the source of the arguing, hoping they weren't arguing about him. Some of his previous foster parents had argued about him, and it wasn't long after these arguments that he was moved to a new home.

"I have to tell him, dad," Remus said hotly. Harry almost gasped. He never heard Remus angry or raise his voice.

"No, you don't. Your condition is managed well enough. I'll manage with him for the night."

"He's going to notice when I'm torn up in the morning and completely useless for two days."

"He knows you have an illness. If he doesn't, I'll tell him," Lyall retorted. "There's no need for him to know."

"I'm raising him! He has a right to know!"

"Like hell, you're raising him! If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have had a chance with the boy!" Lyall shouted, scaring Harry further.

Something like an angry snarl came from the room, raising the hairs on the back of Harry's head.

"Don't you be that way with me, Remus? You knew what you were getting into when you dragged yourself into this crusade of yours."

"He was being abused! How could I leave him there?"

"He wasn't your problem! I feel for the boy, I do, but you're in over your head!" Lyall's tone and words were painful for Harry to hear; he thought Lyall had wanted him to. What if Lyall convinced Remus to take Harry away?

"I'm doing fine," Remus growled. "We have enough to get by, and Harry's happy. Don't take this away from us."

"If you don't want me to take this away, then keep your mouth shut and get in the cellar. He can be told another time when he can understand. Do as I say, boy," Lyall barked.

Something in Harry snapped, and before he knew it, his vision went black.

….

Harry's eyelids felt heavy. He forced them open, finding himself in his bed. The soft light from the full moon illuminated the space. He gasped when he saw a figure sitting in his desk chair. Lyall.

"You took a tumble, son," Lyall said, his voice as hoarse as Remus' had been earlier that day. "How do you feel?"

Harry trembled slightly, reminded of the way Lyall had barked "Do as I say, boy," in a tone identical to the way Uncle Vernon would yell at him before.

"You must have been very scared earlier, Harry," Lyall said softly. "I apologize. I believe that was my doing."

Harry's eyes grew wide. Adults never apologized. Only Remus had apologized to Harry, and Remus was special. Different.

"It would seem my son was right again, and if you'll allow me, I have something I'd like to explain to you." Lyall sounded knackered, looking older than his years, just like Remus. "Is that all right, Harry? If not, I can wait until the morning."

Harry said nothing, instead of nodding anxiously and putting his glasses back on to see. He clutched his old baby blanket against his chest. Remus had washed it for him, and although he was embarrassed about being an almost ten-year-old with a 'security blanket,' as his previous foster siblings had called it, Remus had only smiled and said it was wonderful he had something from his parents' home.

"Good. If you get tired or scared, let me know. This is hard to say, but I think you need to know."

Harry's mind raced with the possibilities – was this his last night at the Lupins'?

"You know that Remus has an illness, right?" Lyall began, and Harry nodded again. "The illness he has is not a Muggle one. It's a magical illness, and it is a curse." Lyall inhaled sharply and produced a book from the top of the desk. "Harry, do you know what a werewolf is?"

"Someone who turns into a wolf at the moon?"

"Yes," Lyall said, almost sighing in relief. "A werewolf is a witch or wizard who has been bitten by another werewolf at the full moon. It is a curse. It means that the witch or wizard has to turn into a werewolf at the full moon. It is a painful process, and there is no cure."

Harry stared, wondering where Lyall was going with the conversation.

"My son, Remus, is a werewolf," Lyall said softly. "Tonight is the full moon."

"Is Remus okay?" Harry said quickly. "Is he hurt?"

"Not yet." Lyall was especially forlorn upon saying this. "Werewolves are not meant to be alone. When a werewolf is transformed, like Remus is right now, they want to bite and hurt people. Sometimes, this means they can kill people."

Harry's jaw dropped. He looked up at the moon and thought back to kind, gentle Remus. Remus, who had never laid a hand on Harry. Remus, who only ever had smiles, books, and biscuits for Harry.

"My son is a good man, but he has a terrible affliction. Once a month, when the moon is full, he turns into a monster. He would not recognize you or me, and he would want to hurt or kill us."

Harry's mouth was still open, in utter disbelief.

"Werewolves like my son do not want to hurt other people. They lock themselves up in a cage all night, but that doesn't mean they want to stop attacking someone. When they cannot attack others, they hurt themselves. You asked if Remus is hurt. He is probably hurting himself right now because he cannot find others to hurt."

"We should help him," Harry said instantly. "We have to."

"Harry, you're a kind boy, but we can't do anything for him. It would be dangerous for us, and imagine how Remus would feel if he hurt me or you? He would never forgive himself."

"But—"

"—Harry, there's nothing we can do. Remus has been a werewolf since he was a little boy, younger than you. He had a wonderful opportunity to go to Hogwarts, and your father and his friends helped give him a normal life for seven years. He will never be a normal wizard."

Harry chewed on his lower lip, deep in thought. "Is this why you didn't want me?"

Lyall sighed heavily again. "I was worried for you. There's no way for me to tell you how risky it was for Remus to try to get you. If he were any other wizard, it would have been easier. As it is, we are risking a lot for both of us for you to be here, Harry. If other wizards knew a werewolf tried to get custody of a child who wasn't his…it would be almost impossible for you to stay. It's why Remus asked for my help from the beginning."

"I should go. I don't want you and Remus to get in trouble," Harry said, voice quivering. He couldn't be worth the effort they were going through.

"I don't tell you this to make you feel bad, Harry. We want you here. We are doing everything we can to make sure you never go back to the children's homes. We have to be careful because no one can know that Remus is a werewolf. Some people already do, especially those in the wizarding world. This is why Remus works for a bookshop. He is a talented, brilliant wizard, but because he is a werewolf, no one will hire him or even listen to him."

"I thought all wizards were nice as you and Remus," Harry said absentmindedly. After his experiences with Muggles, Harry was all too eager to leave the Muggle world behind and be a real wizard, like Remus and Lyall.

"Wizards and Muggles have a lot in common," Lyall said gently. "They are scared of what they don't know, or what looks frightening. Werewolves are frightening, and they should be. If Remus was here as a werewolf, we wouldn't survive the night."

"Where is he?" Harry whispered. "He'll come back, won't he?"

"Remus is in our cellar. There is a strong cage in there, and that is where he will spend the night. In the morning, when the moon sets, I will come down and heal him. He will spend a couple of days in bed while he heals and then he can go back to work."

Harry pushed his glasses back up his nose. "Can I help?"

Lyall looked at Harry with an almost pitying gaze. "You can't help with the healing, but you may be able to keep Remus company while he rests. That's all I can allow, son."

"Are you sure he will be okay?"

"No, but he's survived this long. I've got a book here for you if you'd like. It's not perfect, but it might help you understand more about Remus."

Lyall stood, wearier than ever. "I know this is a lot, Harry. If…after you see Remus, you change your mind, you can go back to the children's home."

"No," Harry said firmly. "I don't care. Remus is…is…I want to be here." He had resisted the urge to call Remus "mine." After the last several years of his life, he had so desperately wanted a parent, and he finally had one to call his own. He didn't want another one taken away, especially one who actually seemed to care for him.

"That's good of you, Harry. You're a good boy."

Harry's heart soared. He was a good boy, at last. For years and years, he had only ever been called bad. But here…here, he was a good boy.

….

A muffled groan woke Harry the next morning. He hadn't remembered falling asleep, but someone – Lyall, he recalled – must have taken his glasses off and placed them on his nightstand. He put them on and dressed quickly, hoping that Remus was back from the cellar. He needed to let Remus know right away that he didn't care he was a werewolf. He needed to let Remus know he wanted to stay with him, no matter what.

Harry walked out his bedroom door to see Lyall removing a bloody cloak off his body. Blood-stained footsteps marked a path from the garden door to Lyall's bedroom, making Harry gasp loudly. Remus.

Harry rushed down the corridor to where Remus' room was, seeing that the door was slightly ajar. He peeked through, finding Remus on the bed, pale and wrapped in various bandages. A pile of blood-soaked rags lay in a heap on the floor. Harry poked his nose through the door, opening it further. Lyall still appeared to be in his bedroom, so Harry snuck into Remus' room, approaching him carefully.

He was asleep, the rise of his chest slow and steady. He was shirtless, covered in a web of silvery scars, intermingled with angry, red, freshly healing puncture wounds, lacerations, and scratches. Even Remus' face had been ripped open, but it was healing under a thick layer of paste. Harry reached out, wanting to hold Remus' hand, even if he couldn't feel it yet. He simply wanted to let Remus know he was there, waiting for him.

The sound of a throat clearing surprised Harry. Lyall was in clean clothes again, watching Harry intently. "I…didn't want him to be alone," Harry said lamely.

"He won't wake up for a long while. I gave him a potion for that. It helps with healing," Lyall said. Harry looked back at Remus, still concerned at his guardian's bloodied, battered frame. "Come, Harry. Let's get you something to eat. While you eat I'll clean up in here, and you can come back and sit with Remus."

Harry nodded and went to the kitchen. If nothing else, he would read with Remus until he woke. It was the least he could do for the man who was risking so much to keep him.

….

"There was once a boy named Milo who didn't know what to do with himself – not just sometimes, but always. When he was in school he longed to be out, and when he was out he longed to be in. On the way he thought about coming home, and coming home he thought about going."

"The Phantom Tollbooth," Remus rasped, half-smiling at Harry, though he was clearly in pain. "It was one of my favorites as a boy."

"I've never read it," Harry said. "I thought you might like to hear stories."

"You remind me so much of your father sometimes," Remus croaked, still half-smiling. "He would be so proud of you, you know."

Harry's heart swelled. He had been at the Lupins' for almost a month, and the longer he spent with Remus and Lyall, the more he hoped he could stay forever.

"Would you like to hear the rest of the story?" asked Harry, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "Or are you too tired?"

"Keep reading, Harry. Hearing you read it makes me happy," Remus said hoarsely. "I'll sleep later."

Pleased with himself for making Remus happy, Harry reopened the book and began to read aloud.