Standard Disclaimer: None of this is mine.

A/N: I'm sorry about the long delays between updates. I just finished a particularly hectic semester at school, then came down with a terrible cold. I'll try to be better about updating now that I'm slightly less busy.

Remus set his parchment on the table and dipped his quill into a bottle of ink that had been sitting on the table. For a moment, he leaned back in his chair, struggling to organize his thoughts. What exactly, should he say to the boy? For that matter, what did he have the right to say to him? He wasn't a friend, or even a surrogate family member as the Weasleys were and Sirius had been. For all he knew, the young man viewed him as nothing more than his former professor, one he could occasionally come to when he had a question. Writing to him might violate some boundary. Was he being presumptuous, thinking that he could just enter the young man's life, completely uninvited?

Remus shook his head in exasperation at his wild overanalysis of this comparatively minor decision. Come on now, Remus, he urged himself. Rediscover some of that old Gryffindor bravery and just do it. You've participated in far riskier missions, with far greater risks. This is a letter. The biggest risk here is receiving a Howler in return. For Merlin's sake, stop agonizing, and just write the letter!

Decisively, Remus, leaned forward, and set quill to parchment.

Dear Harry,

I hope you don't mind my contacting you. If I'm overstepping any sort of boundary, feel free not to reply. If you don't reply to this letter, I'll not bother you again.

I'm sorry I didn't make it at the wedding. J had a cold, and I thought it best to stay with him. I imagine you've heard about J from the Weasleys. I've been quite occupied with the child, but I would be more than happy to come and meet with you if you want to talk. I know that life has been far from kind to you these past few years, and if you ever feel like having another adult to speak to, I'd be more than willing.

I realize how traumatic it must have been to witness what you did with Dumbledore a mere year after losing Sirius. As someone who knew both men quite well, I like to think that I'm someone you can approach if there's anything you want to discuss. If there are any questions haunting you, any questions that you never had the chance to ask them, there's the possibility I might have answers.

If you'd like to meet up sometime, perhaps in Diagon Alley, just send me a response saying so, and we'll make arrangements.

By the way, in the future, feel free to call me Remus. I haven't been your professor for years, and you're definitely not a child anymore.

Take care, Harry, and I hope that days to come are kinder to you than days past.

Sincerely,

Remus

Remus read over the letter and sighed. His words sounded awkward, stilted, and overly formal. However, Remus knew that the longer he mulled over the wording of his letter, the more likely he was to lose his nerve. It was now or never.

Remus folded the letter, wrote Harry Potter on the front, and rose to his feet.

"Jeramiah," he called. The child looked up from the picture he had begun drawing. "I need to make a trip to the post office. How would you like to come to Diagon Alley with me."

Jeramiah rose eagerly to his feet. "I've never been to Diagon Alley. I've always wanted to go there." His tone darkened. "My parents never brought me. They said they could never trust me to behave myself, so they always kept me at home."

"Did they now?" Remus shook his head uncomprehendingly. To him, Jeramiah seemed a remarkably polite and well behaved child. What behavior of his could they possibly find so objectionable?

"They said that I talked too much, asked too many questions," Jeramiah replied. A shadow passed over his face. They said that children should be seen and not heard."

Remus bristled inwardly. He had always taken care to remain even tempered, and prided himself on the fact that he had himself so well trained in this endeavor that little angered him anymore. However, this attitude toward children, one he had encountered far too often during his years substitute teaching in Muggle schools, never failed to strike a nerve with him. It was a child's nature to be exuberant and bursting with curiosity, and Remus knew that he could never see eye to eye with anyone who deliberately tried to suppress this in a child. He couldn't help but bitterly wonder what else Jeramiah's parents had told him.

Noticing that Jeramiah's gray eyes had clouded over with distinct gloom, Remus felt compelled to say something, "Well, some parents are -- er -- misguided in that way. I, on the other hand, believe that asking questions is the best way to learn new things. Never be afraid to make yourself heard around me, Jeramiah."

Jeramiah stood silently, looking pensive, seeming unsure of how to respond. Remus judged it best to change the subject. "Well, this is a Muggle flat, so we can't floo, so we'll have to take the London Underground. Are you ready to go?"

"I'm ready," Jeramiah replied. Remus gathered some of his meager Muggle money, along with a few knuts for the post office, and the two of them set out.

"Why don't you have an owl of your own?" Jeramiah asked an hour and a half later. The two of them were at the Post Office in Diagon Alley, Jeramiah watching as Remus tied the letter to the leg of a barn owl.

Remus took his time in sending the owl off to find Harry Potter, and watching until it was a mere speck in the sky before turning back to look at Jeramiah's expectant face. Remus dreaded answering these questions. The boy was so young, too young to be burdened with the knowledge of the many roadblocks their kind had to face. He was unsure of how to best respond, but Jeramiah was waiting and something needed to be said.

"Well," he began hesitantly, "Owls cost money, and I---," Remus trailed off.

"Don't have any money because no one will give you a job because you're a werewolf?" Jeramiah finished shrewdly.

Remus struggled to hide his disbelief. During their first meeting, when Remus had presumed the child to be wise beyond his years, he hadn't been wrong.

"Of course I know how it is for werewolves," Jeramiah added, his mild defiance indicating that he wasn't fooled by Remus's weak attempts to hide his shock. "My parents were always going on about how awful werewolves are, and how lucky it is that Umbridge lady made those laws to stop werewolves from getting jobs.

Remus couldn't think of an appropriate response for this, so the two of them continued toward the archway in silence.

After several minutes, Jeramiah spoke. "I can read, you know."

"I know that," Remus replied, bewildered. He had been giving Jeramiah lessons nearly every day since he had taken him in, and had a pretty good idea of what his skills were.

"Then you should know that I was able to read the name you wrote on the letter."

Remus turned to face Jeramiah. The boy had a small smile playing on his lips.

"So, how do you know Harry Potter, then?" Jeramiah asked innocently.

Remus sighed as they passed through the archway back to Muggle London. There was so much to tell, he didn't quite know where to start.

"Well, Jeramiah," he began. "That's a long story..."