Chapter 1 — The Boy

Even on the night of the new moon, when a werewolf's strength wanes and his hormones balance to nearly the same levels as the average human, an enraged werewolf is nothing to scoff at. On October 31, 1984, only three days before the full moon, with hormones unbalanced and strength waxing, Remus Lupin was a force to be reckoned with. The patrons of the Three Broomsticks had hurriedly stepped aside and Madame Rosmerta quickly accepted his yell of "Ministry Emergency!" as he swept from the Public Floo with a small body draped across his arms and wrapped in his Auror's cloak. Long hair, shot with streaks of grey, whipped in his face and hid amber eyes nearly glowing in his rage.

Up the road, tracing the pathways of his youth past the lake where the Giant Squid basked under the Halloween moon and through the grand entryway — and then it hit him as laughter and music filtered from within the Great Hall. It was Halloween, and the feast would still be going on.

Had it been any other phase of the moon, Remus would have kept himself from making such a hasty decision — but, alas for propriety, the moon waxed and the werewolf's common sense waned. Stopping only to consider his actions for a moment before making sure that Harry was still blissfully unconscious and not in immediate danger, Remus carefully extracted his cloak from around the boy and flung it back around his shoulders. Harry remained tightly clutched in his arms. This was official business, not just personal revenge for three years of agonized wishing and hoping, though revenge would certainly be sweet.

Hesitating only a moment longer and losing his fight to repress the beast within, Remus swept past a protesting Argus Filch and marched proudly past the four tables of Hogwarts students, who all grew silent in the wake of the raging beast. At the Head Table, Professor McGonagall was the first to notice him. She tapped the Headmaster's shoulder and whispered to him, and Albus Dumbledore slowly rose to his feet. Their eyes met in a battle of will as Remus grew closer but, supported by the strength of his outrage, Lupin stood firm.

"What is the meaning of this, Remus?" Dumbledore finally asked, voice low to keep the conversation from drifting to the rows of eavesdropping students.

Remus managed to keep his voice quiet as well, barely holding back the animal growl of rage threatening to break free. "You made a terrible mistake, Headmaster — a mistake that has caused at least four lives, and may claim more before this is over!"

Dumbledore didn't seem to appreciate the dramatics. "What in Merlin's name are you talking about?"

Without a word of response, Remus took the last steps to the High Table and swept the nearly empty plates from the Headmaster's place onto the floor with a crash that caught the attention of every student in the hall. There, on the table, he finally set Harry. Dumbledore remained silent, appearing confused, until Remus pushed aside a lock of the boy's hair.

A strangled gasp escaped Minerva McGonagall, who had been watching from Dumbledore's side. "Good Lord, Remus... is he dead...?"

"No," Remus replied in a slightly calmer, though louder, voice. "Had I been even a moment later, the two Death Eaters who attacked his aunt's home would probably have broken his mind with the Cruciatus they were already using on him — a four year old boy — or they might have been done with it and killed him. No, Harry isn't dead, but Lily's sister is, and Arabella Figg was murdered in her home. And Frank and Margaret Longbottom were broken, and little Neville very well might be."

Shock was hanging on Dumbledore's face. "This... this is not the place to discuss this, Remus -"

"You made a horrible, terrible mistake," Remus continued, oblivious to the sobs coming from someone at the Gryffindor table behind him. "Look at him, Albus. Look at him! He's malnourished. He's not been bathed in days! His hair isn't cared for, he is bruised. I told you not to leave him with those filthy Muggles, and look what happened to him!" The rage was back in full force, sending Professor Sprout flinching away and Flitwick diving for cover. "Because of your suspicions of me, I ended up the last one alive! James is dead, Lily is dead, Peter is dead, Sirius — God, no, I won't begin to talk about the traitor — but if you hadn't convinced the others that it was me, they might still be alive! Harry is all I had left, and then you took him from me too! I know I couldn't have adopted him but instead of letting Frank and Margaret take him in, or even Arthur and Molly, you had to go and abandon him on the doorstep of those filthy, magic-hating, despised relatives of -"

"ENOUGH!" Dumbledore roared. His normally cheerful face was full of anger in a façade so uncharacteristic of the Hogwarts Headmaster that even Remus stopped speaking. "Enough," he repeated quietly. "This will not be discussed here. Give Harry to Poppy — she will take him to the Infirmary."

"No," Remus countered firmly, gathering Harry back into his arms. "Three years ago, I let you take him away. This time I will not give in. When he wakes up, I'll be the one standing there with him. Me, someone who loves him and wants the best for him, not someone who -"

"Fine, then." Dumbledore's voice dropped even quieter and the tension between the two was thick enough to sense. "My office, Remus. You too, Minerva." He turned and headed directly for the teacher's exit and Remus rounded the table to follow.

At the end of the High Table sat Severus Snape. Remus stopped short as he came face to face with a man he'd very nearly killed. But something in the gaunt lines of his face, stringy hair, and oily skin sent Remus' mind reeling.

Harry didn't look like James. He looked alarmingly like Snape.

"Remus!" Minerva snapped. It was only coincidence, Remus tried to convince himself as Snape's disapproving gaze followed him from the room. Only lack of care made Harry Potter look like that bastard.

Minerva McGonagall thought she'd seen everything. In her years as Head of Gryffindor House, she'd welcomed students of all backgrounds and homelife, even a few who had been neglected and abused as Harry Potter seemed to have been. However, Harry's condition was even more severe than the most injured of her students — not only had he been beaten recently, but he'd been starved and hadn't even bathed. He looked... half-alive.

Despite the grime, Remus Lupin held the boy in his arms, his Auror cloak wrapped tightly around him. Harry seemed to be only sleeping, rather than unconscious, and in deference, they all kept their voices low. It was easy to see, however, that Albus Dumbledore was not amused.

"You are never to question my judgement before my pupils, Remus," the old man whispered intensely, eyes narrowed and cold. "Margaret's niece was sitting at the Gryffindor table. What you've done to the poor child is unforgiveable."

"And what about this child?" Lupin snapped back. "What do you plan to do with him? Send him back to the fat bastard that Lily's sister married, and you might as well dig his grave yourself!"

Dumbledore's frown deepened. "Yes, obviously he won't be returning there. We'll locate other relatives for the child. I'm sorry, Remus, but he can't stay with you." The old man's eyes flickered toward the window. "The full moon is in a few nights. I'll forgive your outburst because of it, but I expect an apology to Natalie Hunter for the rude exclamation of her aunt's and uncle's injury. Now please, Remus, give the boy here. You can't keep him."

"No!" The moan was so reminiscent of a lupine howl of pain that Minerva shivered uncomfortably. "I'll not lose him again... I'll not let you take him from me... If it hadn't been for what you insinuated, I might've been the Secret Keeper, and he'd still have parents! I won't let you dump him on relatives when there's someone who loves him and wants to take him in! I'll live like a Muggle if I have to, so help me, Professor!"

Minerva sighed deeply and shook her head. "And where would you leave him when the moon was full? You're right, Mr. Lupin, he's a four-year-old child. Were he older... but he certainly can't care for himself while you're indisposed. I understand how much it hurts -"

He shook his head violently. "No you don't! I lost everything that night! If you toss him with Muggles, I'll never see him again!"

"Not with Muggles," Dumbledore broke in, sharply. "I can see that the arrangement was most... difficult, as the guardians will need to know who and what exactly Harry is. No... we will find blood relatives who are wizards, Remus. Now, please... the child... I believe you're on duty."

Remus drew back and shook his head. "I'll not allow it. Lily hasn't any magical relatives and James' family is all gone. Not that they'd be fit for a child anyways! You remember what Henry and Julius did -"

"Yes, I remember what Henry and Julius did," Dumbledore snapped, ripping his glasses from his face to rub his eyes tiredly. "There's no need to remind me of the most painful period of my life, now is there? I've had enough of this, Remus. If you don't go back to work, you're likely to lose your job, and I had to work hard enough to find that one for you. Please... you can't keep Harry. And I promise you'll be allowed to speak to whomever becomes his guardian. I can't offer any more than that."

Minerva rose slowly from her seat and crossed the room as Albus spoke, reaching out to take the child. The mournful stare that Remus directed at her was enough to break her heart, but her own need to help the only child of James Potter was able to push her onward. With a moan, Remus finally relinquished the boy into her care.

Though Albus kept speaking to Remus, she barely noticed. Instead, she went back to her seat and cradled Harry in her lap, conjuring up a wet cloth to wipe the sweat and grime from his face. Every line of his face brought back memories, as though his father sat downstairs rather than in a grave. James, bright-eyed on the very morning he first saw the gleaming towers of Hogwarts... in class, beaming as he changed a match into a pin before any of the others managed it... the prefect, balancing class and duties and pranks... the day he learned of his brother's betrayal and his half-brother's betrayal, and of his father's death... and the day of his marriage, letting Minerva stand for his mother after her death years earlier...

She didn't notice the tears on her face as she quietly set about making Harry presentable. Never again, she promised herself — never again would she forget what Harry should've meant to her.