**Couldn't any of you guess? Oh well, it's my story; all shall be made clear to you.

Thanks to all reviewers!

Same goes to Evil Snapple Pie, Amazing Typo and anyone else who gave me wicked ideas – I need them. After the next few chapters I don't have a clue what's going to happen… **

More Pressing Matters – Like Voldemort Chapter 2 – An invitation

Harry picked at his breakfast. It was too early really for anyone to be up, but he could never sleep, these days. He was afraid that if he fell asleep, something sinister would happen and he wouldn't be there to prevent it.

Or maybe he just didn't want to see what he was capable of dreaming.

The two adults were still upstairs, asleep. They had got back so late last night that hey barely had time to eat before collapsing into bed. Harry hadn't even had a chance to ask about the pine trees.

Harry grinned slightly as he heard Sirius snore loudly. Sirius didn't sleep well.

He had nightmares every other night, and Harry had heard muffled thumps from his bedroom just about every five minutes, after he woke up in the middle of the twilight hours.

Sirius slept in the spare room. Harry slept in what Remus had referred to as the box room. Both men had offered Harry the use of their own rooms, (there was no room in either to share) but Harry liked it in there.

It wasn't small, for him anyway, and it was cosy, and had a large window that let all of the sunlight shine through in the morning. Harry didn't think it had ever been used for storing boxes though.

For one thing, he had found a loose floorboard (the first thing he had looked for without knowing it) under the rug with a large space underneath. It was so big that Harry couldn't get his arm inside enough to feel the corners.

Harry didn't need to use it though. All of his brand new birthday cards (people had sent them rather sheepishly when they realised they'd forgotten over the excitement of Sirius' trial, which had landed on his birthday) were set out on the windowsill.

All of his school things sat in a corner, his clothes hung on pegs nearby. A box under the bed held any spare things that didn't have a space, like underwear, and the bed itself was the biggest Harry had ever had.

The walls were bare, but Harry liked this, because it reminded him everyday that his time in Remus' house would not be a permanent stay.

Sirius was already looking for a house – his old one had been searched and then demolished to make room for more houses. Apparently, Remus had told Harry in secret, this had been an enormous blow to Sirius.

All of his things had been confiscated, and the rooms where he had spent so many years with his close friends and small family, had been crushed. Literally.

Sirius had not met up with his family yet. They lived in Northern Australia; Harry had been surprised to find out. But he hadn't been as surprised to discover that it had been because of Sirius that they had left the country.

Harry didn't blame them. Neither did Sirius. Harry knew that if he found out that he was related to Peter Pettigrew in any way, he might well hang himself. Well, not really.

Harry realised suddenly that while his mind had been drifting, the cereal in his bowl had gone soft and squidgy.

He frowned at the grinning Russian on the cereal box who was dancing around the cardboard while a little speech bubble following him said: "Veroslav's corny crunchables. Guaranteed never to go soft and squidgy."

Harry dumped the remains of his cereal into the outside bin. He hadn't been very hungry in the first place anyway.

He noticed that the fence surrounding the overgrown garden was very hick and high, and didn't have any trouble guessing why. It was there in case Remus Lupin went on the rampage one night, in maniac wolf form.

Carefully, he clambered up onto the dustbin and peered over the top. Turning his eyes deliberately East, Harry could see the circle of pine trees up the road. From this angle, he could see that they stood in a depression in the land.

THUMP.

Looking up at the sound, Harry lost his footing for a second. He clung onto the fence for dear life.

When his courage returned he dropped to the ground. Straightening his glasses, he ran back into the house. He climbed the stairs three at a time and burst into Sirius' bedroom.

A large pile of blankets, sheets and Sirius was sprawled on the floor. The latter was still asleep. Without turning around, Harry could tell that Remus was behind him. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"You shouldn't be up."

"Neither should you," said Harry. "Will he be all right?"

"Eventually," said Remus, pulling Harry out gently and closing the door. Harry wasn't sure whether he liked the sound of that.

He heard a groan from within the spare room and was all set to go back in there when Remus knocked loudly on the door.

"Up, lazy!" he called, "it's a beautiful morning!"

"Oh, shut up," answered a muffled voice from within, and then a rude exclamation when Sirius realised he was on the floor.

~

The kitchen table was strewn all over with parchment and newspapers. Remus was going through them; bleary eyes inches away from each page. A very disgruntled Sirius was glancing at them briefly while he fiddled with his bacon.

Harry had his nose deep in 'Curses and Hexes That Allow You To Do Just About Anything', which Hermione had thoughtfully sent him for his birthday, while occasionally running a hand absently along his forehead.

This last was annoying Sirius. He squirmed around a little in his chair, watching his Godson. In the end he said;

"Is your scar bothering you, Harry?"

"What?" said Harry, startled, looking up from his book. Sirius repeated the question.

"Oh," said Harry. "No, not much."

"What do you mean, not much?" growled Sirius.

"Nothing," said Harry. And then, when both men raised their eyebrows: "I mean, it stings a bit but it always does that nowadays anyway. I don't know why you're making such a fuss about it."

His gaze slightly averted unless he caught Sirius' eyes – he would have to tell the truth then – Harry missed the worried glance that Remus and Sirius exchanged. He changed the subject.

"Remus, what's behind that line of pine trees on the next street?"

Remus' eyebrows snapped together as he put down his paper – three days old. Sirius choked on a bit of bacon but swallowed it quickly and said;

"You are never to go back there Harry, do you hear me?"

"Why not?" asked Harry innocently.

"Never you mind," said Sirius. Remus glared at him.

"It's just an old dump, Harry," he said as Sirius yelped and screwed up the corners of his eyes in pain. Harry recognised the symptoms of someone who's just had their foot trodden on.

"Then why mustn't I - "

"It's dangerous," said Remus. Something in his semi-calm face told Harry that Sirius had just given him a taste of his own medicine. "Lots of sharp bits and pieces, rubbish slides and things, no one goes there any more in case they get hurt. And neither are you," he finished firmly, the movement of his torso giving away the cause of Sirius' next yelp.

Scarcely had they finished breakfast than something very small and fluffy came whizzing through the window. Harry stood up and grabbed Pig around his middle.

"That's Ron's owl isn't it?" said Sirius.

"Yes," said Harry as he glanced at the name on the envelope. "It's for you," he said, surprised, chucking the letter at Sirius, who nearly dropped it in the milk jug.

"Pig, stay put," Harry told the owl, giving him a sharp tap on the head to keep him still.

Sirius scanned the parchment Pig had brought, grinned, and handed it to Remus. Harry was having too much trouble holding pig to even ask what it said.

"That's nice of them," said Remus folding the letter. 

Harry gave up. Pig flew wildly around the room hooting at the top of his voice.

"What's got him so worked up?" Harry wondered aloud. And then, to Remus he added, "What's nice?"

"We are cordially invited to the Weasley's house this afternoon," said Remus with a smile. "Strictly business of course."

"Of course," said Harry and Sirius together.