"NO! NO!!!"

"Shush-sh-sh-sh...! Hey, hey...!"

Gasping for air, Harry lashed about, trying to stop himself falling until he realised he was being pinned down. He opened his eyes to darkness, which only made him panic and struggle even more. Worse – he couldn't seem to feel his legs...Was he blind? Dead?

It was that dream again. The one he was sure he'd had over and over...falling and falling. Falling through a thin black veil...

Where are you Sirius?!

"Hey...hey...lad!" repeated a gentle voice. "Please - I'm only trying to help you!"

The teenager calmed a little as he began to understand his surroundings, and by degrees eventually stilled, aiding his breathing. The voice was soothing, and rather familiar to him...

"Now that's much better, isn't it?" came the light tone, trying to soothe. "Good to see you're finally awake. You're lucky I was just passing by. I don't know how or why you got up there, but you fell down and hurt yourself. You have likely got concussion too. I've just requested you something to heal the bruising more quickly – but that might take a few more hours – so you'll have to just -"

Harry suddenly let out a quiet sob as some relief washed over him.

"Lup-in?"

There was a short silence. "How did you know...?" enquired the voice, curiosity in its tone.

"W-wha..?" mumbled Harry, before realising. His brain was playing catch up yet again. Of course - Lupin wouldn't know him!

He opened his mouth to reply, but couldn't seem to find his voice - it was just as if a sharp pinscher now had a grip of his ribcage, and was preventing him taking breath enough to utter more than a couple of words.

"It's H – ah - I'm- m... H..."

"Not from Hogwarts, eh? So, no doubt he saw you in the papers a few years back then, Lupin," came a sudden growl as the teenager gave up the struggle to talk. "Some kids don't miss much. Make bloody good Aurors, some of those kids – if Hogwarts could keep itself a half-decent Defence professor!"

As Lupin quietly worded a greeting, Harry had already recognised the gruff voice as Mad-Eye Moody. He tried to move again, but that attempt sent such a pulse of pain over his chest he near fainted.

"So – this is him eh? You're pretty sure he's a wizard then, this kid?" continued Moody, his clawed wooden foot clunking soundly over toward where the Teenager lay.

As he still couldn't see a thing for whatever reason, Harry could only imagine that freaky electric-blue eye roving around and near x-raying him from head to toe.

"I reckon so," replied Lupin, frowning. "He has no wand, but I did find a Zonko's sweet in one of his pockets."

"And he was found injured in Potter's back garden you say?"

"Yes."

Moody gave a low grunt as he sat down heavily. "Bit on the scrawny side. Very suspicious circumstances. Death Eater?"

Lupin sighed. "No. No mark. Nothing."

"Hmph. Doesn't look old enough for one anyway. Well, lucky for you then, not to have Headquarters crawling with the villains now looking for their kid!" replied the Auror darkly. "Know who he is?"

"No..."

"Dumbledore seen him?"

"Not yet."

"Daily Prophet?"

"Dumbledore is trying to keep this as quiet as possible. Doesn't want a fuss."

"And Potter?"

Harry gave a hoarse moan, partly out of pain, partly out of frustration. Why should something so simple as speaking suddenly become such a task?

Lupin seemed to pause, the breath hitch in his throat. "I...Harry...is fine. I checked on him before I apparated here."

"Oh...I see." Moody sounded amused. "The lad wasn't busy adding infamy to his parents reputation then?"

"Well...you can get into the mode of thinking about Harry that way...or...you could support me in thinking that maybe it was his parents that got him into his troubles in the first place?" replied Lupin dryly.

Moody let out a gruff chuckle. "Ever the thinker, weren't you, Lupin? A blameless Potter...Ah, I like that!"

"Yes," replied Lupin quietly. "It does seem rather ironic to those of us who knew James. And Lily too...to be very honest..."

Harry was much too busy trying to breathe as shallowly as possible (so as to not cause himself more pain,) than listen in to any more of the adults' intriguing conversation. He caught snippets at best from the next few conversations. And as a few more days went by he still somehow failed to even pick up enough clues to figure out exactly where he was, or what building he was in. All he was aware of in however long it was were the occasional change of visitor from Moody to perhaps Dumbledore.

Lupin however didn't appear to leave his bedside. It was the only voice that always seemed to be there – and this Harry was deeply grateful for.

Once the boy appeared to be sleeping, Moody glanced down at his watch, placed his old hat on his head and rose to leave. "Well, that's another night over with."

Wrapping himself up in his cloak, he noted his companion took no similar action, instead continuing to sit half asleep in the chair. "Remaining with him then, Lupin?" he enquired gruffly.

Lupin straightened up from his awkward sitting posture and stretched his legs out in front of him, giving a half-yawn. "Yes, I am, I'm afraid. Dumbledore's orders."

"Hoping he'll tell you what he was up to in Potter's garden?" growled Moody lowly. "The devil he will, I say!"

Lupin frowned slightly. "Why would you say that?"

As the Auror leaned in slightly closer, Lupin noted that while Moody's normal eye was looking at him, the magical one was constantly fixed on the teen. "Just a hunch," he muttered quietly. "I'd go so far to say I don't like it. I'd keep a very, very close eye on him if I were you..."

Lupin gave a tight smile. "Well, no sleeping on the job for me, then."

Moody nodded seriously and turned to leave. As he opened the door he paused and turned back, the light in the room playing eerily with the scars on his face.

"Don't ask me why, Lupin, but that lad just doesn't look trustworthy to me. I'd watch every move he makes..."

Lupin barely had time to nod before the door clicked shut. Letting out a breath of relief, he waited until the Auror's claw leg had clunked its way across the landing before rising from his seat.

"Looks like it's a case of Moody's eye versus Lupin's nose, then," he quipped wanly.

He drew the curtains on the late evening sky with one wave of his wand, and bent over the bed to examine the boy yet again. Lupin sighed; he was looking better, his foot mending well with the help of the potions, but it had been almost two weeks since he had found him in the garden, and it was still shocking to think of what state he had been in. Feverish, injured, the smell of alcohol still evident.

A fifteen-year-old on something as strong as whiskey?

And quite a bit of it, too.

Lupin gazed over at the glowing coals in the fireplace, recalling the unmistakable smell of cannabis on the boy's breath. Faint but still lingering.

And then to top it all there were the utterly conflicting mix of other smells, which should never be together at all. A mix of old and new magics, scents which seemed to somehow trigger off earlier memories unwittingly. Memories from years ago...And then more recently acrid ones.

Burnt plastic?

Lupin shook his head and shrugged them off. It was all pretty alarming.

"Ah, if only things could turn out the way you want them to," came a sombre sigh from behind.

Lupin jumped a little, in spite of himself. No matter how hard he concentrated, he could never ever smell or detect the enigma that was Dumbledore. Flitwick always smelt of liquorice, Sprout of compost, Snape of burnt herbs and charcoal. Dumbledore...nothing. Not even lemondrops. It was most disconcerting!

He turned, to find the ancient-old wizard peering wearily at him from over the top of his spectacles.

"What do you mean?" he smiled, trying not to appear too rattled.

Dumbledore looked grave, and merely motioned his hand toward the bed. The younger wizard looked round to gaze at the boy again.

He furrowed his brow as he studied the boy once again. "Headmaster – why do I feel as if I know this stranger?"

"If you feel you know him, maybe you do know him," was the cryptic reply.

Lupin peered closely at the boy for a few more minutes, before eventually turning back to Dumbledore, baffled. "I still can't grasp it. It's – it's just as if one sense is deceiving another all the time. A mental block..."

The twinkle faded from the old wizard's eyes. "Ah," was the eventual reply. "I'm afraid I don't know at this point. Only the boy can be asked those questions, but not now, as only after much time and thought will he likely be able to answer them properly. People are under the impression I am wise, but even wisdom still won't help you predict what flavour Bertie Botts bean you will get next."

Lupin blinked.

"I am calling an Order meeting, Remus," added Dumbledore, deftly changing the subject. "But I need you to be stationed at the Dursleys from six o clock tomorrow night, so I am afraid to say as it will be held then, you will miss it."

"But," began Lupin.

"And I will ensure the boy is kept company," continued the old wizard benignly. Lupin noted that the twinkle was noticeably back in Dumbledore's eye.

"Who?"

Dumbledore deigned to reply, instead crossing over the room to throw a sparkling dust into the fireplace.

"Are you free to watch over an ill child tomorrow night, please Severus?" enquired the Headmaster.

"And what exactly would the Headmaster do to me if I refused?" came the low bitter growl from within the flames.

"Thank you, Severus."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes were unsurprised to meet Remus Lupin's shocked ones. "Well, there you go, all worries allieviated, Remus," he replied cheerfully. "Now you are free to watch over Harry instead."

Lupin gazed at the Headmaster, mouth slightly open. "I..."

"Trust that is okay with you, Remus?" continued the old wizard, raising a querying eyebrow. "After all it will do you good to get some fresh air after being cooped up in this stuffy old house for near on two weeks. And likewise will it do Severus good after cooping himself up to sulk in that dark damp place he likes to call his quarters for an equal amount of time."

Lupin blinked, went to open his mouth, before deciding against speaking and frowning instead. He looked back down at the sleeping boy, whose mouth and hands were now twitching slightly in his sleep.

Now, he knew why the boy reminded him of someone! Understood those smells, and all the secrecy surrounding this boy. There was just one more scent he had left to recognise...one that was as old as it was new. One that had been familiar to him long ago, and again barely...three years ago.

His jaw dropped down. It couldn't be.

It just...

He should have never mistrusted his senses. They were screaming the answer at him all along

He turned abruptly to confront Dumbledore with his discovery, only to find the old wizard had disappeared as noiselessly as he had arrived.