A/N: Posting a day early so I can get ahead on my other major WIP! Thank you for reading/favoriting/following or commenting! Always so appreciated. :)

Harry walked next to Remus on their way to the remains of his first home. He saw other children emerging from their homes with costumes for trick-or-treating, longing to return to Cardiff so he could do so too. Aunt Petunia had never let him go, and Dudley would usually eat his sweets in front of Harry to taunt him.

"We're almost there, Harry," Remus said. "Once we're done, we'll get your sweets, all right?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically. As nice as it had been to see his parents' names and graves, it was hard to mourn them. He had never known his parents, and while Remus had assured him that his parents had not died as a result of a drunken car crash, he often wondered what kind of people they had been.

Remus slowed down and stopped in front of an empty lawn. Harry looked up at him in confusion.

"Look closely for a few moments, and you'll see it," Remus said softly. Harry stared at the lawn and in an instant, it changed to something both mesmerizing and horrifying. A two-story cottage, surrounded by an overgrown hedge, stood before him. A memorial sign appeared, bearing a message.

"On this spot, on this night of 31 October 1981, Lily and James Potter lost their lives. Their son, Harry, remains the only wizard ever to have survived the Killing Curse. This house, invisible to Muggles, has been left in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters and as a reminder of the violence that tore apart their family."

"The Killing Curse?" Harry asked as he traced the letters on the memorial. "What's that?"

"It is what killed your parents," Remus said solemnly. "Not a car crash. They were killed by a very Dark wizard. Do you see that room up there?" Remus pointed up to what appeared to be a child's bedroom. Harry found faintly see an alphabet mural on the wall.

"My room," Harry murmured.

"Yes. There was a Dark wizard, and he killed your parents in this cottage." Remus inhaled deeply, and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Would you like to walk around? I believe we should be able to."

Harry nodded, and he felt a similar warmth when they went through the rusted gate as he did when he came home to the Lupins. He now recognized it as protective enchantments surrounding a home.

"I used to visit your parents here every now and then," Remus said quietly. "Not as often as I wanted, in that time. They had a small garden, right around here." He led Harry towards the back of the house, where an overgrown, wild garden was thriving.

Harry could barely take his eyes off the ruins of his first home. He saw the front door, and imagined what it might have been like to open that door every morning and afternoon as he went to and from school. He imagined his mother greeting him in the kitchen, with one of the pies Remus had said she was good at making, with vegetables from the garden. Harry could've helped in the garden because he wanted to, not because he'd have been forced to. Perhaps his father would be there, too, waiting for Harry to come home from school. Instead of a scowl, he'd be greeted by their warm, loving smiles, and then they'd eat dinner together…as a proper family.

He brushed away the tears that had formed in his eyes, longing for a life he could have had.

"Harry? Why don't we sit here, and I'll tell you about what happened." Remus had brushed away branches from an iron garden bench, making room for the two of them to sit. They faced the cottage from there, on the side that had not been ruined but by now was half-covered with ivy.

"To tell you about what happened to your parents, I need to tell you about the wizarding world in the years leading up to your birth," Remus began, his voice heavy with emotion. "There was a war in the 1970s. It had been building for some time, but by the time you were born, it was in full swing. You see, Harry, just like Muggles, wizards have problems too."

Remus inhaled deeply again and continued. "There was a Dark wizard called Lord Voldemort."

Harry's brow knitted together. "Voldemort?"

"Yes, Lord Voldemort. Many people were so afraid of him that they were afraid of saying his name. When you go to Hogwarts next year, people won't call him Voldemort. They will call him You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, because people are still afraid of him and everything he did," Remus said. "I call him Voldemort, but even my father doesn't."

Harry's brows went up into his forehead. "Why were people so afraid of him?"

"He did terrible things, Harry. Terrible, evil, wrong things," Remus explained. "Do you remember when I talked about purebloods, half-bloods, and Muggleborns?"

Harry nodded, remembering the conversation well. His mother had come from a Muggle family, which meant only Lily could do magic. His father had come from a pureblood family. Harry was a half-blood, as was Remus. Both Lyall and Remus had been insistent that one's blood had nothing to do with their ability to do magic or be a good witch or wizard.

"Some people, Voldemort included, thought that it mattered what kind of wizarding blood someone had," Remus said. "He thought that only pureblood witches and wizards were important, and thought that Muggleborns were making wizarding society worse. It's all rubbish, Harry. You must remember that."

Harry agreed; it reminded him of his history lessons, where people were prejudiced because of others' skin color. He recalled being shocked that wizards could be the same way, only with blood.

"A lot of people disagreed with Voldemort and his followers, who were called Death Eaters. You need to understand that even though people disagreed with Voldemort, he was a powerful wizard who had many supporters," Remus elaborated. "His supporters had a lot of money, power, and status. Many of his supporters believed the same idea, that someone's blood meant they were more or less valuable."

"Your parents disagreed with his ideas, as did I," Remus said evenly. "There was a small group of people who opposed Voldemort. He was doing everything in his power to take over the wizarding world in Britain, and that's where you come in."

"Me?" Harry asked dubiously. "I was only a baby."

Remus looked down, and Harry could see that the man was struggling to speak.

"I'm sorry, Harry, it's hard to discuss, but you deserve the truth," Remus said hoarsely. He cleared his throat and shook his head. "There was a prophecy given before you were born."

Harry's expression must have given away his bewilderment, as Remus shook his head again. "Prophecies are made by Seers, a special kind of witch or wizard who can see what may happen in the future. It isn't guaranteed, but some people pay more attention to prophecies than others. This prophecy, which I don't know the details of, said something about Voldemort's defeat."

Remus cleared his throat again and wiped something from his eye. "The prophecy said that a child born right around the time you were born would grow up to defeat Voldemort."

Harry gasped, staring at Remus in shock. Harry? Defeating a Dark, evil wizard?

"I wouldn't worry much about it, Harry," Remus said, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. "Voldemort's gone now. You did defeat him, even if you can't remember it."

Harry was sitting upright, rapt with attention. "How?" was all he managed to say as he learned this part of his history.

"I'll get to that." Remus brought his hands together, bending over as if bracing himself for something terrible. "When we learned that Voldemort knew about the prophecy, there were a couple families who could've been affected. Yours was one of them, since you were born at the right time. Your parents went into hiding in this cottage with you. There was a special charm placed on the house to make it invisible to anyone but their Secret Keeper." Remus clenched his jaw and fists now, startling Harry at his sudden show of aggression.

"Give me a moment, Harry," Remus said tightly. "This is hard for me, too." Harry was growing more concerned by the minute at how much Remus had been affected by what happened.

"Right. The Secret Keeper. There's a man called Sirius Black who was our friend," Remus said, his voice edging on a growl. "We thought he was our friend. Remember that, Harry. He had been one of our best friends in school and…" Remus scrunched his eyes together and clenched his fists again. After a few more deep breaths, he continued.

"He was your godfather, Harry," Remus said, through gritted teeth, as Harry's jaw dropped. He'd always wondered why he had been with the Dursleys for so long…no one had mentioned a godfather!

"What happ—" Harry began, and Remus put his hand up as he put his other fist over his lips.

"Sirius Black was your godfather, Harry, and he was your parents' Secret Keeper. No one could get the location from the Secret Keeper unless the Keeper tells it himself or herself," Remus said, his voice cracking with emotion. "The reason Sirius Black is no longer my friend, and why he is nowhere near you, Harry, is that he betrayed your parents. He told Voldemort where to find you and your family."

Remus' chin was quivering, but his jaw was set and his eyes were burning with fury. Harry had never heard of Sirius Black before, but just thinking of the man was enough to make Harry hate him for betraying his family.

"When Voldemort got the location of this cottage, Harry, he came for you, because the prophecy said you could defeat him," Remus continued, breathing hard. "Your parents trusted that Sirius would never share their secret. They were wrong. We were all wrong." Remus let a dry sob escape from his throat before rubbing his eyes with his hands.

"Your parents weren't expecting Voldemort. He was after you, and of course your parents loved you. They would have never given you over to him," Remus said, his breathing steadying as they moved on from Harry's godfather. "Your father was probably killed first. Voldemort used something called the Killing Curse, one of the most evil spells known in our world. There is no cure and no way to reverse it. No one but you has survived it."

Harry's head was spinning with information. His parents had died to save him, and their best friend had betrayed them. He almost wished his parents had died in a car crash – the truth was much darker.

"After Voldemort killed your father, he went upstairs looking for you, we think. Your mother died next, protecting you with her own body. Then, Voldemort turned to you, and cast the Killing Curse on you, but it backfired."

"What? How?" Harry asked, in a strained voice.

"No one knows," Remus said. He looked Harry in the eye, and then up at his forehead. "That scar is the only evidence on your body that Voldemort tried to kill you. Somehow, you survived and the curse backfiring led to Voldemort's defeat. The prophecy came true, we think, and Voldemort's gone."

Harry sat in still silence, wondering how he'd survived the Killing Curse. He wasn't anything but ordinary, he thought. He had average marks at school, he wasn't very big or strong for his age, and he wasn't especially talented.

"Maybe we'll know one day why this happened," Remus murmured. "But for now, it's important to know that you survived, Harry."

"What happened to Sirius Black?" Harry asked, after a few more moments of silence.

Remus stiffened, but after a few more deep breaths, spoke again. "He went after our friend Peter, to kill him. He might have wanted to kill us all," Remus said, his voice tight and filled with quiet fury. "He went to Peter first. He killed twelve Muggles before he finally got Peter. Sirius didn't just kill Peter, Harry. He blew him up and all that was left were two fingers."

Harry gasped, horrorstruck by the idea that his parents' best friend – his godfather – had killed innocent people and blown an innocent man up.

"He was caught and sent to the wizarding prison, Azkaban, without a trial. He confessed to the murders that very night, and I haven't seen or spoken to him again," Remus said bitterly. "After that, you were sent off to live with the Dursleys and I never saw you again, either, until now."

As Harry thought about the horrors that occurred in the cottage before him and all that he had lost that night without knowing it, he looked back at Remus. He recalled Remus' words, spoken moments before. "I never saw you again, either."

"Why didn't you come see me?" Harry said quietly, his own anger welling up. "You were their friend too, weren't you?"

"I…yes, but—"

"—but what? Why didn't you come see me? Why was I taken to the Dursleys?" Harry asked, his own fists clenching now.

"You were taken to the Dursleys because your aunt was your mother's sister. They were your only living relatives," Remus said uneasily. "That's what Professor Dumbledore arranged and wanted for you."

"I don't care what the professor wanted! I don't even know the professor!" Harry cried. "Why didn't you come see me, Remus? Why did you leave me there?"

"Harry, I didn't…they were your family. I wasn't," Remus said lamely. "I couldn't have—"

"—IF YOU COULD TAKE ME NOW, WHY DIDN'T YOU TAKE ME BEFORE?" Harry screamed. "WHY DID THEY LEAVE ME?"

"Please, Harry, it wasn't my—" Remus began, but Harry didn't want to listen. He felt the tears forming in his eyes, furious and hurt by the knowledge that he'd been taken to the Dursleys to suffer, when other people like Remus were still alive and could've cared for him.

Harry began running as fast as his legs could take him in the opposite direction from Remus.

"Harry! No!" Remus shouted. "Come back!"

He kept running, until something hit him in the back, and he felt himself fall over into unconsciousness.

….

When Harry opened his eyes, he was back in his bed at the Lupins'. He grabbed his eyeglasses from the nightstand, and as soon as he put them on, he saw the rest of the room come into focus. Remus was sitting in a chair, staring intently at him with red-rimmed eyes and a somber expression.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Remus asked quietly.

"What happened?" Harry croaked.

Remus inhaled sharply. "I stunned you."

"Why?" Harry furrowed his brow; he had been told stunning was usually for defense. He hadn't recalled being violent.

"You were running away from me. Do you remember why?" Remus bit his bottom lip, looking searchingly into Harry's face.

Harry closed his eyes and willed himself to remember the end of their conversation in Godric's Hollow. He had been furious with Remus for allowing him to rot away at the Dursleys', when he could have grown up with the Lupins the entire time.

"Yes," he said, in barely more than a whisper.

Remus took in another sharp breath. "I understand if you're still angry with me, Harry, but please don't ever run away from me again."

"You ran away from me first," Harry said flatly, as Remus' face fell and pain crossed over his features.

"I did, and I can only say I'm terribly sorry for that. You must know it wasn't a conscious choice." Remus looked uncomfortable, but Harry didn't care. He was still livid that he had been left with the Dursleys for years.

"You left me with the Dursleys."

"Yes and no. Professor Dumbledore arranged that for you, as your aunt was your mother's only living relative. Your father had no living relatives," Remus said, as he took another steadying breath. "I don't think any of us thought your living conditions with them could've been so deplorable."

Harry was trembling now with anger, attempting to control his temper and magic so that a window wouldn't break. "Why didn't anyone come to see me?"

"I can't speak for others, but I can say that I was very sad at the time. I thought you were in good hands with your family." Remus' tone of voice was apologetic, but it did little to mollify Harry's rage.

"But I wasn't," he retorted.

"No, you weren't. I see that now, and I'm working hard to make sure your life is better now." Remus paused, looking down at his shoes, before looking back up into Harry's eyes. "I am sorry I never saw you earlier, more sorry than you could ever imagine."

Harry said nothing while contemplating Remus' apology; he felt it could never be enough to make up for the years of suffering he'd endured with the Dursleys and then at the group homes.

Remus cleared his throat, calling Harry out of his thoughts. "If you would like, Harry, I can write to Professor Dumbledore to find out why you were put there in the first place. I know your Aunt Petunia was your only living relative, but I wonder why you weren't put with a wizarding family."

Harry had heard of this Professor Dumbledore before from both Remus and Lyall; they spoke highly of the man and he'd even collected his Chocolate Frog card. He had now grown suspicious of the supposedly great wizard for leaving him in such a terrible situation for so many years.

After a few moments of thought, Harry muttered, "Fine."

Remus exhaled in obvious relief, and stood from his chair. He made his way to the threshold of the door to the bedroom. He turned around and said, "Harry?"

"What?" Harry snapped.

"I have one more thing to apologize for," Remus said sheepishly. "It's too late for trick-or-treating."

Harry didn't have it in his heart to care, and turned over in his bed silently, still angry at the world for taking his parents and life away from him so cruelly.

….

Over the next few days, Harry ignored Remus in favor of Lyall. He didn't care that Remus was trying to talk to him or interact with him; Remus had ignored Harry for years and left him at the Dursleys to suffer. Lyall took over most of Harry's care at that point, taking him both to and from school, helping with his assignments, and ensuring his needs were met.

It was unsurprising, then, when Lyall came to wake Harry the Saturday morning after Halloween. What was surprising, however, came with Lyall's announcement.

"Harry? It's time to get up, son," Lyall said, from the doorway. "We've got company."

Harry furrowed his brow and put his glasses on. "We do? Who?"

"The Headmaster from Hogwarts is here to see you. Remus asked him to come over to explain a few things to you."

Harry scowled and turned back to his bed. "I don't want to talk to anyone."

"I know you don't, Harry, but give Professor Dumbledore and Remus a chance to explain themselves," Lyall said gently. He came into Harry's room and sat at the end of the bed. "Sometimes the people who are important to us make mistakes, Harry."

Harry was growing irritated. Remus and the professor didn't make mistakes, they left Harry to suffer with the Dursleys for years. Harry couldn't put a word to it, but it felt like far more than a simple mistake to him.

"Can I tell you about my biggest mistake?" Lyall said. "It has to do with Remus being a werewolf. Everything to do with it, actually."

Harry was slightly curious about Lyall's hand in Remus' lycanthropy, but he didn't want to appear too eager, and so stayed still under the covers.

"I'll take your silence as reason for me to continue," Lyall said. "You see, Harry, long ago, when Remus was not even five years old, I worked at the Ministry of Magic. There was a man who came in who we thought had hurt children. He convinced my co-workers that he was just a Muggle in the wrong place at the wrong time. I didn't believe him and could see who he was – he was a werewolf."

Lyall took a steadying breath. "My co-workers wanted to obliviate him and let him go on his way, but I wanted to keep him until the full moon, which was the next day. They told me to stick with what I knew – boggarts – and I got angry. I lost my temper, and I called werewolves 'soulless, evil, deserving nothing but death.'"

Harry ripped off the covers instantly, now rapt with attention at Lyall's tale. Lyall loved Remus. Why would he say such a thing?

"I know, Harry. This was just before Remus was bitten," Lyall said somberly. "We let the werewolf go and he overpowered the people who were supposed to modify his memory. As you can imagine, this werewolf didn't forget what I said." Lyall wiped a tear from the corner of his eye with the back of his hand.

"The werewolf was called Fenrir Greyback, and the next day, at the full moon, he came for revenge. It would have been better if he had killed me, but instead he bit my son. I was able to save Remus' life, but not without a cost. My beautiful boy became a werewolf, and there was nothing I could do to stop it."

Lyall was hunched over now and Harry was staring at him, wide-eyed and disbelieving.

"You see, Harry, I made a grave mistake in offending Fenrir Greyback, and it was my son who suffered most from it." Lyall wiped away another tear from his cheek. "I didn't tell Remus about the truth of how and why he was bitten because I was ashamed of myself for doing this to him. He found out anyway, many years later, and he was furious with me for keeping the truth from him."

"I made a mistake. I made many mistakes, and it's taken a long time for me to have a good relationship with my son. I love him and I believe he loves me, but we had a difficult relationship for most of the last ten years. He was unhappy for many reasons." Lyall put a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder, and sighed heavily.

"I don't know what my son's life was like for the last decade, but I don't believe he wanted to avoid you. If you're willing, I think both he and Professor Dumbledore would like to speak with you. You don't have to talk to them, if you don't want to. It might do you good to tell them how you feel, and be honest with them," Lyall said, now rising from the foot of the bed. "We'll be waiting for you whenever you're ready."

Harry watched Lyall leave the room and close the door behind him, leaving him alone in his bed. He felt pity for Lyall that moment, for being partly to blame for Remus' lycanthropy. He sometimes wondered why Remus and Lyall didn't always get along. They were always civil and pleasant when Harry was in the room, but he was able to tell when there was unspoken tension between them.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, stretching himself out. It wouldn't do him any good to stay sulking in his room as he had been for days. Perhaps, if the professor and Remus were able to admit to their mistakes as Lyall had, he might feel better. He dressed himself carefully in one of his newer shirts and a newer pair of trousers, and threw on his favorite jumper. He wasn't sure what the professor was like, but upon hearing he was the Headmaster of the school Harry would be attending next term, he didn't want to make a bad impression.

Once dressed, Harry went out to the living room to find Lyall in his favorite armchair, while Remus was sitting on the floor playing Gobstones with a man who looked as if he belonged in a Muggle fairy tale. He had a long, silver beard, resplendent, shimmery purple robes, and half=moon spectacles. He had a plate of crumpets levitating next to him, which seemed to amuse Lyall.

"Harry," Lyall said, upon raising his eyes to find him at the threshold of the living room. Both Remus and the professor turned to Harry. Remus looked relieved, while the professor was gazing at Harry, making him feel as if the older wizard could read his mind.

"Hello, Harry," the professor said. "I am Professor Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is a pleasure to see you again."

"You've met me before?" Harry asked dubiously.

"Yes! The last time I saw you was almost nine years ago exactly," Dumbledore replied. "We're meeting in very different circumstances this time."

Harry bit his tongue to keep from lashing out at Dumbledore – the kindly looking old man had been the one to leave him on the Dursleys' front step nine years earlier.

"I can see you've had a change in residence since that time," Dumbledore said simply. "Would you care to join me in playing Gobstones?"

Remus and Lyall nodded, and gestured for Harry to take over for Remus. Harry reluctantly joined Dumbledore on the floor and continued the game.

"I understand you've been feeling frustrated lately, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly. "Could you tell me why?"

"Why was I sent to the Dursleys? I hated them," Harry said flatly. "They hated me. I'm happy they're dead."

Dumbledore was taken aback at Harry's bluntness, but Harry didn't care. Lyall had told him to be honest, and in truth, Harry didn't care that the Dursleys were dead.

"I'm sure that they didn't hate you, Harry," Dumbledore said lightly, as Harry scowled. "People who hate you put you under the stairs to sleep. People who hate you give you burnt cake. They hated me and I hated them."

Dumbledore looked somber and the twinkle that had been in his eyes when he and Harry first began playing Gobstones was now gone. "I'm sorry that happened to you, Harry. If I had known…"

"But you didn't. Remus didn't. Nobody came for me." Harry was fighting the tears that were welling up in his eyes. He was already screwing up his chance with the Headmaster to make a good impression, he thought, panicked.

Remus was sitting on the edge of his seat, being held back by his arm by Lyall. Remus made a peculiar, strangled noise from the back of his throat, but Lyall kept him in place.

"What happened after your aunt and uncle died, Harry?" Dumbledore asked gently. "You were sent to live with your cousin and his aunt?"

"Aunt Marge made me sleep in a doghouse for two days until she took me to children's services. I lived at three homes and nobody ever wanted me." Harry was sniffling now, and Dumbledore conjured tissues from the tip of his wand, offering them to him.

Harry took the offered tissues and blew into them, coughing slightly from the effort of keeping back his tears.

"That's when Remus found you, is that correct?" Dumbledore said, as Harry nodded. "You've been with the Lupins since June?"

"Yeah. Remus said he might adopt me." Harry looked down at the floor, feeling suddenly ashamed at how badly he'd treated Remus in the last few days. Remus had offered nothing but kindness for months, and now Harry feared he'd be turned back out to children's services for offending him.

"Is that what you want, Harry?" Dumbledore asked kindly. "To be adopted by the Lupins?"

Harry looked up at Dumbledore, whose eyes were twinkling merrily again. He then glanced at Remus and Lyall, who were both sitting upright, staring intently at Harry.

"If they still want me," Harry murmured. "I'm haven't been very good so maybe they don't want me anymore."

Remus made another strangled noise from his throat, but Lyall held him back once more.

"I will try to arrange something for you, Harry, but there's something you should know," Dumbledore said, his tone now shifting towards something more solemn. "Remus told me that you know your parents were killed by Lord Voldemort?"

Harry nodded, and pushed the bridge of his glasses upwards on his nose.

"Your mother threw herself in front of you to save you," Dumbledore continued. "Did you know that creates a special kind of magic?"

Harry shook his head. He glanced at Remus and Lyall, who were both watching the scene vigilantly.

"When your mother sacrificed her life for yours, she unknowingly invoked a type of magic based on love. She loved you to give her life for you, which meant it created a protective charm that flows in your veins," Dumbledore explained. "The blood you share with your mother makes you untouchable to Lord Voldemort. This is why the Killing Curse backfired."

"He can't…kill me?" Harry asked, scratching his head in confusion. "Because of love? Blood love?"

"More or less," Dumbledore replied. "The love your mother had for you flows in your veins, tied to your very life. Do you know who else shared that blood?"

Remus gasped and clapped his hand to his mouth while Lyall looked grave. Harry, still confused, turned to Dumbledore.

"Your mother's sister and your cousin Dudley share that blood. When I placed you with your mother's family, it sealed that protective charm, making it the safest place for you to be."

Harry gaped at Dumbledore; the home he'd suffered in for years was safe…because of his mother's love? Because of magic?

"It is for this reason, Harry, that I'm going to disappoint you," Dumbledore said sadly. "You have to go back to them."

"But they're dead!" Harry shouted. "I can't go back!"

"Your cousin isn't. You must go back to him and Aunt Marge, I'm afraid, for your safety," Dumbledore said.

Harry shook with rage – he couldn't go back. Not now. Not again. The last thing he heard was the shattering of glass all around him and a crackling sizzle in the distance, before he lost consciousness.

….

"Albus, see reason!"

Harry heard Remus shouting from his bedroom. His head was sore and his body reeked of Dittany, leading him to believe he'd hurt himself somehow in a burst of accidental magic again. He was exhausted, but strained against the covers to better hear the adults' conversation.

"He needs safety…Dumbledore said something muffled here…Dursleys are safest."

"Harry slept in a bloody doghouse there! We can't do this to him!" Remus yelled. Lyall said something to Remus about staying calm.

"…discuss an arrangement with Marge Dursley, I'm sure," Dumbledore said calmly. "She…reason…two weeks."

Harry was growing impatient with his inability to hear their conversation, and crept out of his bed towards the door. He pressed his ear against it, hoping to hear more.

"But that would mean we couldn't adopt him," Remus said dejectedly.

"Perhaps it's for the best," Lyall offered. "The Ministry won't take to us raising him."

"Sod the Ministry!" Remus shouted. "This isn't any child, it's Harry!"

Harry's chest grew warm at Remus' defense; he felt ashamed he'd pushed the man away after Halloween when it was obvious he only wanted to help him.

"This will be easier to defend than the current situation," Dumbledore replied. "You know he won't be away for long. He will return."

Harry perked up at this – he didn't mind the idea of leaving the Lupins if he could come back. Once he was away at Hogwarts, he could always come back to Remus and Lyall for holidays.

"Then we'll use the Fidelius Charm, whatever it takes!" Remus retorted. "I'm not seeing him go back there!"

Harry heard the sound of a throat being cleared, and Lyall's low, calming voice again. "We can talk to the woman ourselves and see if we can make an arrangement. It will be difficult, but we can try."

"I believe she will be amenable when she understands what is at stake," Dumbledore said, as someone snorted loudly.

"Remus, please," Lyall said pleadingly. "We need to do what is best for Harry."

"You can't be serious. Be my guests. Go see her and tell me you really think he's better off there," Remus growled. Harry heard the stomping of feet, and the loud, heavy sigh that followed it.

"We should have planned this for next weekend, but he insisted it would be fine," Lyall said. "Full moon tonight, but he was adamant that this couldn't wait."

"He wanted the truth, and sometimes the truth isn't easy to accept," Dumbledore said. "I'll manage the arrangements…would you like me to tell Harry?"

"It might be best coming from me, I should think," Lyall replied. "Let me know when and where we're needed."

"Thank you, Lyall. I must be off now. Expect my owl."

Harry heard further footsteps and decided to return to his bed. His head was spinning with the events of the afternoon. Before he could get under the covers once more, someone was knocking on his door.

He looked up to see Lyall, more tired-looking than usual, enter the bedroom and sit on the desk chair.

"Do I really have to go back?" Harry squeaked, holding his worn baby blanket up to his chest. "To them?"

"It appears so, son. I'm sorry," Lyall said gently. "We're going to figure it out for you, all right?"

"Can I come back for my holidays?" Harry asked. "I heard I won't be away for long. I will return."

Lyall's expression contorted into something both peculiar and pained. He cleared his throat and said, "We will figure something out, I'm sure. You should rest now. You took another tumble again from your accidental magic."

Harry wasn't convinced by Lyall's statement. The elder Lupin had promised neither a return to the Lupins nor what the arrangement, if any, would be for him at Marge's. Frustrated and scared, Harry curled up under his covers and clutched his old baby blanket to his chest, hoping it wouldn't be his last night at the Lupins' just yet.

Extra A/N: If you like my writing, check out my time-traveling Tonks series. Part 1 titled "The Nymph of House Black." It's what I'm currently pouring my heart and soul into. Once that's wrapped up I'll be ramping up my writing on this fic!