Dumbledore had expressly forbidden it.

Molly had yelled, Arthur had reasoned, Minerva had questioned, the Order, as a whole, had demanded he not do as he planned, and Snape had… Snaped. Nevertheless, he was swiftly covering the last few yards of sidewalk to the Dursley's front door. In the end, the Order could only recommend; he was the only one who had any real say in the boy's life. As he ought to have done years before, when Harry was to be placed with his relatives, Remus Johnathan Lupin stood against the will of the masses to do what was truly the best thing for James Potter's son.

Taking him away from this place.

Everything he could see told him he was in a happy suburban town, at a happy, medium-sized home. His eyes noted the well-manicured lawns, the tidily trimmed, neatly edged borders and gardens, and the over-all very-well-cared-for home. He saw only cheer and tidiness; the warm glow of lights from inside drifted through warm-toned sheer curtains to highlight the lawn in the growing dusk. But the rest of his senses told a story far different.

Sadness was most prevalent, oddly enough, overshadowing even the abundant sense of pain. Depression and frustration were also obvious, along with a very morose, but powerful, feeling of determination. All of these emotions were bound up in Harry, in fact, Remus could sense the boy from here, just by looking for the source of the sadness, pain, and determination. It went far beyond the normal teenage angst, as Molly had suggested, and the determination made it obvious that this was no plea for attention, as Severus had so enthusiastically championed.

And from his relations? A sort of half-manic mirth, twisted together with a sick sort of enthusiasm. And… something else… something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Injustice? A sense of moral… un-rightness?

Remus had to get him out of here. Fortunately, there wasn't much left to do but the getting. And he'd better get cracking; the order, once they'd seen that he couldn't be swayed, had decided to make the most of things and put together a rather subtle and intricate (for the mostly-Gryffindor group) plan. Severus would be making good with the Dark Lord by informing on Remus, and should be apparating to Voldemort's side in almost exactly forty minutes. Which gave Remus about forty-two minutes to be out of here, and warded away where old Voldy couldn't reach. Sparing only the time for one last deep breath, he rang the bell.

Not surprisingly, the young Dursley boy answered the door. Seeing Remus, he almost immediately turned his nose up when he saw the state of his clothes. "Yeah? And whadda you want?" Dudley asked.

"I'm here for Harry, actually." Remus said.

"Wha? Oh, you're one of them, huh?" Oddly, his gaze got slightly warmer, and was edged with curiousity. "He's not supposed to have any visitors of your sort this summer."

"I'm not visiting. I'm here to fetch him."

Dudley was giving him a look, now, that he hadn't expected. A real look of evaluation, as though weighing things in his mind. After a moment, he opened the door wider, and spoke. "You can't talk to Mum and Dad, they're on a trip until Monday. But come on in."

Remus stepped in, but watched Dudley carefully. He wasn't acting like the boy Harry'd told him about, and Remus was uncertain what the cause was. At any rate, the werewolf in him, along with the Legillimens, was affirming that the boy was being quite honest, and that he was, while somewhat confused, not prone to attacking or anything else.

"Harry's upstairs." Dudley said.

Remus simply continued to watch him, waiting for the boy to say whatever was on his mind. After a moment of silence, he gave up, and turned for the stairs.

"Mister – wait a second, would you?" Dudley said, awkwardly.

Remus turned back towards the boy, but only quirked a brow in response.

"Look, it's no secret that the Frea- that my cousin and I haven't really gotten along. But whatever's eating at him, it's not good. I'm glad you're taking him away." Dudley actually blushed. "That came out wrong. I'm glad for him, he needs … something, and stuff. And my parents… well, and me, really, we haven't treated him so good."

By the end of this speech, Dudley was staring at his toes. It was obvious that apologies, and admitting faults, were out of character for the boy. He was silent, but Remus knew that the boy hadn't actually managed to say whatever it was he was intending, in all that.

"Mr. Dursley?" Remus prompted, after a while. "I'm afraid I don't quite understand what it is you'd like me to know."

Dudley stared at the floor another minute, and Remus didn't think he was going to say any more. But then Dudley looked straight at him, and spoke firmly. "When he came home, he was sad. But he's always sad, when he comes home. But last year was the first year that it seemed like… like he might kill himself, or something. One of my friends did, this past year at school, so this summer I was watching him, but I didn't let him know or anything."

Dudley sighed. "At first, it really seemed like he would, and I must've watched him every second, must've hid every pair of scissors, every razor blade, and every knife in the house a dozen times. Mum thought he was stealing them, and Harry – I dunno what he thought about it, really. But then… he just stopped, stopped being like that. But – look, I'm not a shrink or anything, and I don't know what was going on in his head, but the change definitely wasn't better. It's like he's not going to kill himself, but he knows that something else will. Like he's got to do something first, but he'll die from it anyways. I think he might … do something stupid. Go looking for trouble."

Remus thought that rather remarkably insightful from a boy who, according to Harry, couldn't and one and one and get two more than half the time. Especially seeing as it was unlikely that the boy had even the faintest clue who Voldemort was.

He wasn't really sure what to say to Dudley, though. A long, involved conversation was in order, honestly, but he didn't have the time. He glanced up the stairs, then back to the boy in front of him.

Dudley, however, seemed to realize his quandry. "Look, you're obviously in a hurry; just … don't let him hide from you – he's got bruises from… well, from dad. Dad… doesn't exactly hit him, but…" Remus opened his mouth to respond; he had to know more, needed to know what was going on in this house, but then checked his watch. Thirty minutes and they had to be warded, or they'd all be dead, and that would be the best case scenario. Again, however, Dudley seemed to know what he was thinking.

"Look, just go. I'll… you can write me, I guess, if you want. You know… with the owls. So long as they come at night, and mum and dad don't see."

Speaking of their plan, however, Remus realized a critical flaw. When the Death Eaters couldn't find Harry out and about, they'd come back to look in his relatives' house, even if only to see if Snape was lying. And with Petunia and Harry both gone, the blood protection on the place would be gone, as well. "Look, Dudley… do you have someplace else you can go for the night? Someplace you can go in a hurry? It's really important."

"Yeah, I can go to a friends'. I was supposed to, anyways, really. Mum didn't want me here alone with the… with Harry." Dudley paused. "The door to his room is locked. I can pick the lock for you, if you want…"

"That's not necessary." Remus replied, waving the boy off, but half-smiling to let the boy know the gesture (a former marauder could hardly fault a boy for knowing how to pick a lock) was appreciated. "You really need to get going, though… we all need to be out of here in another twenty minutes."

Dudley nodded, and preceded him up the stairs. When they reached the landing, he wordlessly pointed at the door to Harry's room, and turned in the opposite direction, presumably to pack. The door to Harry's room looked much as it had at the end of the previous summer; locked with several locks, and a cat-flap at the bottom. Remus wondered what Harry's relatives had been thinking, leaving him locked up like that. Beyond even the simple cruelty of locking the teen in, as they usually did, how did they expect him to relieve himself without anyone there to let him out?

Oddly, though, Remus didn't detect any overwhelming scent of waste… had they installed a toilet in the boys' room? It was beyond imagining, what lengths they might go to, simply to keep Harry out of their lives.

Unwilling to stall a moment longer, Remus opened the door to the room. And what he saw shocked him.