Thursday morning saw Fred and George prepared for class, participating, and the most well-behaved Remus had ever seen them. He didn't even mind the matching evil grins they flashed him on their way out.

Thursday afternoon saw Remus wasting his entire free period hunched over the Map on his desk, muttering furiously for Peter to show himself, the coward; to no avail.

Thursday evening saw Harry back in the History of Magic classroom, looking decidedly nervous.

"Hi Harry," said Remus.

"Hello sir," Harry said to his shoes.

"Are you ready to try the Patronus charm with a boggart?"

"Go on," Harry said to the desk behind Remus.

Remus studied him for a moment. It wasn't a great idea, necessarily, to present a nervous teenager with a boggart, but Remus also knew that Harry thrived in practical lessons. Ultimately, he felt it was worth the risk; he popped open the case on his desk. A dementor emerged, breath rattling, robes undulating, slimy rotten hand reaching…

"Expecto patronum!"

Prongs materialized at once, charging the dementor back. Remus held open his case and trapped the boggart inside. The case rocked once, then stilled.

"Well done, Harry!"

Harry grinned back at him. Remus felt filled to bursting with relief and pride; he realized he wanted to keep that grin on Harry's face forever. "Would you like to try something a little different?"

"Er, sure," said Harry.

"So far we've been using a boggart to represent a dementor, and you've protected yourself as if it were a dementor. But you never did get a chance to practice riddikulus, and as your Defense professor, I would feel better knowing you've also mastered that spell. Why don't you have another go at the boggart, this time as a boggart?"

"But won't it still be a dementor?"

"Yes, as long as your greatest fear is still a dementor, that's the shape the boggart will take. But unlike a real dementor, this one will have an additional vulnerability as a boggart: the riddikulus spell. Do you remember how to defeat a boggart?"

"Force it to assume a shape I find amusing."

"Very good. So take a moment and think about how you can make a dementor look amusing."

Harry closed his eyes and scrunched up his nose in thought. Remus waited until he opened his eyes and nodded at him.

"Ready? Alright."

The dementor loomed back out of the case. Unlike last time, Harry paused for a moment. Remus felt dread creeping down his spine… But no matter; a second later-

"Riddikulus!"

Within the span of a second, the dementor shrank and its hood flipped back, melding into the rest of its robes. The horrid grey skin of its head and hands lightened and took on an almost paint-like texture. White eyes and a strange flat nose materialized above its gaping hole of a mouth. Finally, it raised its hands to the side of its face and hovered there, staring. Remus had only just enough time to recognize it as an Edvard Munch painting come to life before the paint started dripping down its head like melted candle wax, distorting its silently screaming face and hands, staining its death-black robes with sickly white clumps of goo.

Remus certainly didn't find it funny, per se, but Harry gave a great shout of victory that was close enough to laughter. The boggart turned to Remus and shone moonlight on him.

"Riddikulus!" Remus said, forcing it back into its case. "Very nice, Harry! I didn't know you were a fan of art."

"Er, not particularly, but, I mean, I went to school and all. I dunno, it's just something I thought of."

"It was a good idea. Definitely one of the more original boggart transformations I've seen from my third years. How are you feeling?"

Harry looked slightly paler than he was when he came in. "I'm fine," he said.

"Have some chocolate anyway," said Remus, rummaging around in his pockets. The best he found was a half-eaten bar of Honeydukes' finest, but Harry didn't seem to mind it.

After a comfortable few minutes of silence as Harry finished his chocolate, Remus clapped his hands together. "Well, Harry, I think you're right. You don't need any more help from me to cast a Patronus."

Harry grinned at him. It was a welcome change from the nerves of just five minutes ago. "But?"

Remus bit back a sigh. James used to read him like a book too. "But, I think I could use some help from Prongs. Would you mind?"

"Sure thing. Expecto patronum!"

Prongs burst forth again from Harry's wand, coming to a stop in front of Remus and howling silently at the moon.

"Prongs." Remus' cheeks stretched painfully around his smile; his joy at seeing his old friend again hadn't diminished at all since Sunday. "I've been looking for Wormtail everywhere. I'm checking the Map constantly but I think he's in the forest."

Prongs nodded.

"So you know where he is at any given moment, even now?"

Prongs shook his head, then nodded.

"I figured. If you know what's been happening in this plane, you must be able to… observe, somehow, events among the living?"

Prongs nodded.

"But I assume that when you appear in Patronus form, here, your… ability, or means, to observe is cut off somehow?"

Prongs nodded again.

"So you know where Wormtail was before Harry conjured you, but you can't be certain where he is right this instant?"

Prongs nodded. Remus grimaced.

"So hypothetically you could lead us into the forest to the place where he had been recently, but Harry would have to keep recasting if we wanted up-to-date locations from you."

Prongs nodded his head down then threw his head back angrily.

"No, no, I'm not saying that's what I want to do. I don't think it's safe to drag Harry into the forest to hunt for Peter."

Prongs shook his head emphatically.

"Well, does he at least stick to one general part of the forest?"

Prongs shook his head.

"Mmm, I suppose that makes sense, especially if he knows Padfoot's after him."

Prongs nodded politely then looked at Remus expectantly.

Remus sighed. Damn Potters. "Is Padfoot… sane?"

Prongs nodded his head, shook it, and nodded again.

"So… Mostly?"

Prongs nodded. Then he shook his head, stomped his two front hooves, and then his left back hoof twice.

"Right, of course. You wouldn't want him to be Harry's guardian if you didn't think he was capable."

Prongs nodded enthusiastically.

"D'you think, if I, er, made myself known to him, he would… take it well?"

Prongs nodded and rolled his eyes.

"It's just, thirteen years is a long time, even if you're not in Azkaban, and he doesn't know I've talked to you; I don't want to scare him off if he thinks I'm looking to turn him in…"

Prongs rolled his eyes again. Remus clenched his jaw violently against flashbacks of teenage drama and James' not-at-all-subtle pained mutters of 'idiots in love.'

"I know. Thanks."

Prongs took two steps toward Remus until he was close enough to nuzzle Remus' chest. The light emanating from him was so warm that Remus was surprised, despite himself, to reach out to pat Prongs' head and feel his hand fall through empty air.

"Right," he muttered to himself, stepping back a pace. "Prongs, one more thing- about my, er, other investigation? Am I missing anything big that I need to look into?"

Prongs nodded, leaned forward, and started pawing at the ground with both front hooves. Remus watched him with utter confusion.

Prongs looked up and huffed at Remus, then started scratching at the ground again.

"Sorry, Prongs, was that one of our signals? I don't remember it at all."

Prongs nudged Harry, who Remus realized was frowning at them.

"Er, yeah, sorry," Harry said. "That's the sign dad and I made up for Ron."

"Ron?" Remus repeated.

"Yeah, because his house is called the Burrow. So, that's Prongs trying to burrow."

Remus snorted. Prongs' ear twitched in irritation.

"He always did have the misfortune of being the only one of us without paws," Remus commented fondly. He looked back at Harry to see the boy was still frowning. "What's wrong?"

"What does he need Ron for? What's the other investigation?"

"Oh," said Remus. "Oh. Well, I've been trying to figure out, logically, where Wormtail might be, and since he was Ron's rat for so long, I guess maybe he might know what kinds of places he likes to hide in."

"Oh," said Harry. He was still frowning slightly, but if he had doubts about Remus' extremely flimsy cover story, he decided not to voice them. "Is that all then?"

"Yes, thank you for your help, Harry. See you later, Prongs."

Prongs nudged Remus' chest and vanished.

"G'night Professor." Harry practically fled the classroom.

Remus frowned; he missed the days when Harry wasn't anxious about talking to him.

"I'm going to do better, Prongs," he told the empty room. The room didn't answer.

...

Remus trudged wearily down to the kitchens, still puzzling out how to put Harry back at ease. Tippy made several suggestive remarks about Remus' penchant for evening strolls with food for two and threw a heart-shaped box of chocolates into the basket for good measure. Remus debated vanishing them, too, but decided that any chocolate, even in somewhat embarrassingly-shaped boxes, was good to have around with dementors guarding the grounds.

Remus frowned as he left the castle. Anyone who studied Patronuses enough inevitably knew quite a lot about dementors, too. By all rights, Remus knew, Sirius should have gone mad in Azkaban years ago.

But Prongs said Sirius hadn't gone mad- and that definitely wouldn't be for lack of bad memories. And Prongs said Sirius would be open to, well, being in touch with Remus. But Sirius was on the run, in hiding, actively hunted by Aurors and dementors alike; Remus couldn't just corner him in the shack and start talking about Harry and Prongs. Remus would need to build his trust and confidence, working his way up slowly from the baskets of food. He would also need Sirius to know, somehow, that it was Remus leaving the food. But if anyone thought to search the shack- and he wouldn't be surprised if Severus already had- he couldn't leave any calling cards that obviously linked back to Remus or Sirius.

By the time Remus got to the shack, he'd settled on a plan. He swapped out the baskets of food then walked out to the living room downstairs. He removed the least tattered cushion from the least damaged sofa and walked it back up to Padfoot's bedroom, as he'd started to think of it. He repaired all the rips and tears on the cushion, spent ten minutes hitting it with every cleaning spell he knew, and transfigured it into a large fluffy dog bed. Then he tore off a strip of mouldy crimson curtain from the window, cleaned it up as much as he could, and transfigured it into a spool of thread. Finally, he coaxed the thread carefully into the dog bed, so that the raised back of it read, in Gryffindor-red embroidery, "Paddy."

His wide spiraling laps through the forest and grounds on the way back to the castle were unfruitful as ever. Remus pondered whether it would be harder to find a needle in a haystack or a specific rat in a forest. He fell asleep that night wondering if blood tracing spells recognized human blood in transformed animagi.

...

The next morning, Remus sent word to the rest of Team Potter requesting another meeting at four, when he knew Minerva was finished with classes on Fridays. He was pacing nervously in his office when she and Severus entered together, wearing identical moues of frustration.

"-truly insufferable!" Minerva was lamenting.

"What did I miss?" Remus asked them.

"I have given those Weasley boys detention every night for the rest of the month and they are completely unaffected!" Minerva huffed, pulling a chair around. "Merlin knows what's gotten into them; they've always been trouble but never like this."

"Speak for yourself," Severus sneered.

Both of them looked at Remus for commiseration. "Oh, they've been horrible," he hummed amiably. Remus took a long sip of tea to mask the smile threatening to slip out.

"I don't know what I'm going to have to do to get through to them," Minerva sighed. "I can't think of a detention miserable enough to cow them, not when they're like this."

"I already have them scrubbing out cauldrons by hand all weekend," Severus offered.

Minerva sighed and looked at Remus. "Any dreadful tasks you could use them for?" she asked.

This time, Remus let his smile show. "I don't think you should trust me to be much of a disciplinarian around troublemakers like them."

Severus glowered at him. Minerva, however, smiled back. "They give you four a good run for your money," she said proudly. "I've been saying so for years."

Severus glowered at her too.

Thankfully, Poppy arrived before Severus could make any snide remarks or, inevitably, insinuations of attempted murder. "So sorry I'm late," she declared as she took a seat. "We're looking at another bout of flu, if you can believe it; I've had ten Hufflepuffs in today alone, and you know, illness always travels fastest when it starts with the Hufflepuffs. Too friendly for their own good," she sniffed. "Severus, would you mind brewing me another large batch of Pepper-up? I'm almost out."

"Of course."

"Wonderful. Well, I must say, Remus, I'm glad you called us all together today because I went to Harry's school this morning and I've been itching all day to tell someone about it."

"Ah, excellent, Poppy, give me just a mo'-" Remus fumbled for a quill and parchment, which he dated at the top and titled Team Potter.

Minerva peered doubtfully at the parchment. "Team Potter?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Well it was either that or 'The Committee to Kidnap The Boy Who Lived,' but I feel that just doesn't roll off the tongue quite as nicely, don't you think?"

Minerva gave Remus a look that said she knew all too well why he'd picked 'Team Potter,' accentuating her point with a dubious flick of her eyes towards Severus. Remus smiled serenely back at her.

Poppy, having missed their tacit conversation, plowed on with her report. "It was no trouble at all getting Harry's medical notes, although I suspect there may have been other types of records that the muggles store separately. His school healers- nurses, they call them- saw him often for bruises, scrapes, and bloody noses; two anxiety attacks; and also thirteen episodes of fainting. There are two notes about reporting concerns to the local authorities- one in 1989 and one in 1985. But the results of those reports aren't included in his medical records."

"That's alright Poppy; what you have here should be quite helpful," said Remus, flipping through the stack of papers she had duplicated and passed out.

"And what of Potter's Hogwarts records?" asked Severus after everyone had skimmed the documents.

"Well, there's been no fainting except for the dementor incidents, and no scrapes or bruises that aren't attributable to quidditch. I was surprised to learn of the anxiety attacks, given that he's never been treated for one here, even with all the trouble he's gotten into." Poppy frowned. "I hate to make assumptions based on correlations alone but it does seem that these issues only manifested when he was living with his relatives. I will also say, he's rather small for his age; I checked his parents' records and neither of them were as short at thirteen as he is now."

"Is there no way to test Potter for prior abuse or neglect?"

"There is, but he'd have to come in specially for a full forensic physical. I'm happy to conduct one, of course, but," her eyes flickered to Remus, "not if we don't want to involve Potter directly."

"About that," Remus winced. "I think we should talk to Ron Weasley."

Minerva stared at him. "You said it wasn't a good idea."

"I know," sighed Remus. "I changed my mind. I can't explain it, but I just know that he has information that will be helpful."

"Do you no longer think it would be inappropriate to approach Potter's friends without his knowledge?"

"I still do, a bit, but I think the benefits may outweigh the costs."

The rest of Team Potter stared at him dubiously.

"Can't make up your mind, Lupin?" jeered Severus. "Or are you finding it hard to know which friends one can trust?"

Remus bit the inside of his cheek, hard, to hold back a retort.

Minerva shot her best disapproving glare at Severus. "If you don't want to talk to Potter himself, then I, for one, maintain that we need to get our information from someone close to him."

Remus nodded. "Ron's his best friend. If anyone knows how Harry feels about his relatives, it's him."

Severus sneered. "Weasley is a dunderhead and oblivious to boot."

Remus bristled but Minerva smiled knowingly at Severus. "Are you suggesting we speak to one of Harry's… cleverer friends?" Minerva asked. Severus' eye twitched. "That may be the most direct compliment you've ever made about Hermione Granger."

"I said nothing of the sort," Severus protested, but he didn't object to the suggestion.

"I suppose it makes sense to talk to them both," said Remus. "Poppy? I know, and I generally agree with, your reservations about this, but they really are quite close with Harry and the conversation will be much less painful for them than it would be for him."

Poppy sighed. "No matter; it seems you lot have already made up your mind. But if you're going to interview children about sensitive subjects, I suggest you do it in a welcoming setting with trusted adults, and that you be clear with them at the outset what you're doing and how it will help, that they're not in trouble at all, and that their participation is not at all obligatory. Then make sure you check in frequently to ensure their comfort with the topics being discussed, offering them breaks if necessary. And make sure they know exactly who else will be privy to the information they provide."

"Is that all?" asked Minerva drily.

"Oh, and try not to visibly react to anything they say; it can make children think you're angry with them or that it's somehow their fault."

"Got it," said Remus, still scribbling furiously on his Team Potter minutes.

"Any updates on the new guardian?" Minerva asked him.

"No," sighed Remus. "I still haven't been able to… track him down."

"Well, you do know who could help you track someone down?" said Minerva.

"Dumbledore can't help me with this."

"He tracked you down, Remus, and by all accounts of the rest of the Order, you had been particularly difficult to find."

"And if only he'd stayed that way," sighed Severus mournfully.

Remus, despite himself, snorted. How nice it was that he could always count on Snivellus to be catty when he needed it most.

"I do find it most unusual that you refuse to include the Headmaster in your concerns about the well-being of one of his students," continued Severus, shaking off the momentary glimmer of goodwill Remus had felt for him. "And even more unusual that you refuse his help in locating a possible alternative guardian for the boy. Suspicious, even."

"Thank you, Severus," Minerva snapped. "If you could kindly leave your concerns about Sirius Black out of these meetings-"

"This isn't about Black," Severus snarled. "Lupin is clearly up to something and refusing to tell us what it is, even with Potter's safety at stake!"

"Oh, don't pretend to care about him on my account, Severus!" Remus snarked back.

"Enough!" said Minerva, rising to her feet. "Need I remind you that neither of you is sixteen anymore? Severus, we have too much to do and this is too important for you to let old childhood enmities and baseless suspicions derail our efforts." Severus opened his mouth to argue but Minerva didn't give him the chance. "And Remus, we will have to inform Albus before we file any complaints with the ministry. If you haven't located this family friend by then, you will tell him who you're looking for and how you have attempted to find him, and you will accept whatever aid Albus can provide."

Remus, too, wanted to argue, but Minerva looked angrier than he'd seen her all year. She glared at him and Severus until they both nodded.

"Good," she said. "Then we shall reconvene next week." Minerva marched furiously out of the office, followed by a somehow angrier Severus.