A/N: To address those who ask whether Sirius is innocent or guilty (and the same for Peter): I'm afraid you'll have to wait and see.

Thank you all once again for your reviews, they really are enormously helpful. At this point, I'm just going to have to admit I must not know what normal kids Harry and Dudley's age are like. I've been basing them off my little sister's intelligence and ability (mind you, she was in dance not football at four, but that was from the fact my dad knew someone who got trounced by some kids at soccer because they'd been playing since THEY were four). For the sake of argument, let's just pretend that without Dudley being exceedingly cosseted and Harry downtrodden, they turn out a bit brighter… because Harry really needs as much a jump start as he can get.

Chapter 10

I've watched you so long. It seems it's been years. I just want to hold you. I'll hold you tight all through the night and cry to the heavens above. But I'm a dementor… a dementor in love.

- The Blibbering Humdingers

There was a chill in Azkaban that went beyond bone deep, settling around his shoulders, the gloom so thick he could breathe it in. Only a few cells away, he could hear his cousin shrieking about how 'the Dark Lord will save us'. Personally he thought it was a waste of breath. Black wasn't sure whether Bellatrix was right or not, but either way, talking about it was not going to make Him somehow show up. All it was really succeeding in accomplishing was giving him a headache.

Sirius swallowed suddenly, feeling a wave of even more intense cold. The wailing and whimpering that began in the cells at the end of the corridor left little doubt as to what was coming. These visits were always the same, and yet somehow, each was worse than the last.

He could remember, when he'd first came, the man in the cell next to his had been… shall we say, more in control of his mental faculties. The first visit he had experienced, he had not fully accepted the fact he was in Azkaban. Those so called arbitrators of justice had stuck him here. He had laughed as they had dragged him off. He had laughed because he knew that after that day – it could not possibly get worse. Frankly, Sirius wasn't sure if he had been wrong.

The first time, he had been shaken. Having all of his worst memories brought crashing to the fore left him shaken, clinging to the bars, but conscious. That day, his next cell neighbor had assured him with a croaking voice "the first time's always the worst". Well if that was the case, he thought he could handle this, but mere hours later the dementors returned, hovering at each prisoner's cell for what felt like an eternity. When he came around, forcing his mind to focus once more, he could just make out the whisper from next door, "the second time is always the worst".

It had taken a few visits for it to sink in, but the true meaning to sink in, and when it had; Sirius rather wished it had not.

He'd made the best of it though. Instead of focusing on matters of guilt or innocence, he focused on what he would change if he could rectify matters. The day the Potters' had been attacked was still the end of his hopes, and he wanted revenge t hat was far beyond his grasp at the moment. Now, he could only change into his dog form and hope to avoid notice from their undead guards. They seemed particularly fond of him. Whenever Bella was experiencing a bout of sanity had taunted that 'they just can't resist your charm, Sirius. Looks like you've got more than lovesick girls after you know though, charm doesn't do you much good now does it, you filthy traitor!"

Pushing away his cousin's words, Black just curled up in his dog form and tried as best he could to get a few hours of uninterrupted rest. Perhaps this time he would succeed, he'd been here long enough to tune out the other prisoners after all, the only wild card now was the dementors, and even they somewhat scheduled their feeding. At least, he thought so… time, like warmth, didn't really seem to belong in Azkaban.

Padfoot was not the only once Marauder who was in a bit of a bind. One Remus Lupin, often called Moony by his friends, Over the years, there had been several times when he had caught a certain look of confusion in what might has well have been his godson's eyes whenever something particularly odd was noticed. It was always followed by such a strong look of determination that Moony felt horrid for keeping such secrets from him. He wanted nothing more at this point than to tell young Harry at least something. To confirm the existence of magic and promise he'd receive training and allies and a more fickle community than he could imagine, perhaps. Or even to just tell him the truth about his parents' deaths. Yet Remus couldn't, because he was a man of his word. Long ago, he had agreed to let the Dursleys decide when Harry was told of certain things in order to be allowed in said child's life. He had also assured Dumbledore that he would follow the Dursleys' wishes. And while it had been years since he and Dumbledore had actually talked, the vow was just as binding in the werewolf's mind as if it had been made the day before or magically.

For the most part, he tried to keep this out of mind, focusing on making sure Harry was happy and that he continued to progress so well through whatever his current project of interest was. As time had passed, Remus had found himself floating from job to job, in both the magical and the muggle world. Truth be told, as he was forced to acclimate to the muggle world anyway to associate with Harry, he had found the nonmagicals much easier to work with. In the beginning, the magicals had been far too sympathetic as he was known to some as a friend of James Potter. That quickly turned to unwelcome suspicion, and eventually, he would find himself beating the streets for a job once more, each time feeling like he'd been slapped in the face.

The nonmagicals though were a bit easier to get along with. While he had one employer who seemed a bit suspicious that Remus was one of those 'pagan fellers with them pentagrams and candles and mumbo jumbo', on the whole his being otherwise occupied on the full moons passed without comment. Unfortunately, given the fact he did not have much education in the muggle world to speak of, he was kept to the sort of minimum wage jobs. He was lucky to have had enough money saved up to buy the town home he was currently in; otherwise he would be even more strapped for cash. As it was, Remus found himself rather grateful that places such as Goodwill existed. In the magical world he would have had to wear ragged and worn down robes and bought most things second hand. While in the nonmagical world, he still bought plenty of things second hand, he could at least have things that looked nice.

Interestingly enough, he was able to hold a few jobs for quite some time, only being cut due to budget restrictions on the company's part. This was partially due to one Vernon Dursley's support in later years. While he may not have had the official education, recommendations meant the world to some hiring managers, and once Remus had his foot in the door, he tended to be an incredibly fast learner, even if he didn't like being in debt to Dursley – not because he was a muggle, but simply because Remus just didn't like being in debt to anyone.

However, this feeling of owing the Dursleys only reinforced his need to keep his word. That, and a definite fear about Harry would react to his 'furry little problem' should he start telling the boy the whole truth.

Lupin was not the only one with regrets about not being more open with a certain raven haired boy. Surprisingly, one of the others was his Aunt Petunia. As much as she still loathed magic, not only for being unnatural but for stealing her sister from her, she felt guilty for keeping his heritage a secret from the boy. At the same time, Petunia didn't want to lose the nephew she had come to love just like she had her sister. So while she tried not to outright lie to Harry, for instance never saying magic in and of itself wasn't real, she wasn't ready to broach the subject without Vernon's support. And Vernon, somehow, was much more against the idea than Petunia herself was. In time, she knew he would mellow out. He couldn't fool her after all; Petunia knew he was rather fond of her nephew as well. Really, they both just wanted to keep them for their own. They'd raised him, and while he knew they were not his real parents, she supposed it was similar to the feeling adopted parents had when coming out about the fact they were not really their child's parents. Harry knew well they were his aunt and uncle, but he still had his parents' world, it was just out of reach for now, and selfishly, Petunia wanted to keep him in hers for as long as she could.

At the same time, if Harry was as important Pettigrew had originally led them to believe, then keeping the magic world a relative secret might be even worse than she already felt it to be. But for Petunia, he was just a little boy, just like her Duddikins, and he deserved a childhood. Just because Petunia was not ready to sit down with the boy and tell him all about Hogwarts and the life that lay ahead of him after he completed primary did not mean she was not going to prepare him in some way for the change. She never would truly like magic, and Vernon was completely against her telling Harry anything, so she just helped out in little ways. She had given him with the fountain pen in an attempt of some sort to get him used to writing with a quill, although she was not sure how helpful it would be. If nothing else, Petunia did feel it would improve hi penmanship to some degree. She also tried her best to make sure he was at home in a garden. While she was a bit obsessive in her cleaning inside the home, Petunia made an exception for her dislike of dirt when it came to planting and growing things, and she hoped to possibly encourage that same love in her boys. She had always found it to be a wonderful sort of stress relief and it would be good for Harry especially to have that in years to come. Vernon wanted Dudley to follow him into selling drills, so the boy didn't really need it himself but still, he was her son and she wanted to spend time with him as well – what more reason did she need?

The two boys were currently in Year 2 at primary (having finished Reception and Year 1, marking his third year at school other than nursery). Harry and Dudley had the joy of looking forward to Key Stage 1 exams this year, which neither of the boys were really looking forward to. For the most part, they did enjoy primary… well, Harry did. Dudley just liked seeing their friends. That didn't mean Harry was looking forward to something as major as exams. He knew year mates tended to go together and it was nearly impossible to be flunked and kept back another year… but it was still nerve wracking. He wanted to make a good impression after all. As much as the idea perturbed Dudley, he and Harry had both made silent plans to ask Aunt Petunia and Uncle Remus for help with revision.

These plans found the two boys at a now somewhat worn but exceedingly clean kitchen table with Uncle Remus. He had agreed to go over their lessons on multiplication and division, as it had been recently introduced. Their teachers had not gone in depth on it much, and the two had wanted to be sure they had a handle on the theory. They ended up getting more than they bargained for as Remus was an exceedingly good teacher. He had even shown Harry how to use his abacus for the calculations, but warned him that he should not rely on that as he couldn't have it with him all the time. That, and Lupin assured them that mental math, once one got the hang of it, was quicker and easier. He set them to memorizing their times tables, although after it was pointed out that was next year's material most likely, allowed them leniency on when he expected them to actually learn it.

Unsurprisingly, the two decided to attempt it now, while it was fresh in their minds. Harry did so because he wanted to know as much as he could. Dudley's motivations were more along the lines of the fact he didn't want to be too far behind his cousin.

The school year was not just work and studying though. The gang soon learned that Piers, despite being stringy and small himself, had an older brother who they eventually cajoled into teaching them basketball. While football was still Harry's favorite, dribbling the orange ball down the court to his team mates and the feeling of euphoria whenever he managed to sink the ball into the net was wonderful. Dudley was not as fond of it, but was soon placated when Piers' brother's friend agreed to teach him the basics of boxing. Not that he was actually learning boxing, just showing him how it was done. As Dudley found this sport much more interesting, the gang's trips to play ball and shoot hoops were welcomed by all.

A few snapshots made their way into Petunia Dursley's rather formidable picture collection. A simple family portrait (yes, including Harry) was on the wall now, but she had a photo on her dresser of that Christmas. Harry had convinced Remus to help them with supplies and he and Dudley had both painted pictures for her. Dudley's had been of the tree, presents, and stockings. Harry had instead focused on the family gathered around the fire roasting either chestnuts or marshmallows. She had thought the gifts incredibly thoughtful and kept them in a safe place for use around Christmas for the years to come. The snapshot itself was of Christmas day, with the two boys cavorting about, bits of wrapping paper sticking to their clothes as they had tried to place a bow in her hair, calling her a gift. Vernon's camera had caught her mid blush, but she loved the photo anyway.

Photos made her think of a certain album she had been keeping for one messy haired boy for years though. She knew that Remus had performed some sort of charm to keep photos in the wizarding books Harry had received on his fourth birthday to stay still if any muggles were present. Vaguely, Petunia wondered if it would be possible to just freeze them into a later time so that Harry could have the album soon, and have them unfrozen later when he was fully aware of the magic situation. She would have to ask him later.

Come summer, the Dursleys were trying their third dentist office. While several of the hygienists were bearable, Vernon had not been sold on any of the dentists themselves, and had point blank refused to even try one office when he learned they were supplied by Grunnings' major rival. It was one thing when they were supplied by medical companies or even smaller drill companies, but when Grunnings' had a perfectly good certified dentist drills department and an office was supplied by their obviously inferior major rival… well, he just was not going to support that, and neither was his family.

That was just a side drama really, especially for the two young boys. They were much more focused on having fun and taking a break over summer. Sure, Harry still practiced and tried new things as well as old ideas they had written down and stowed in the loose floorboard of their playroom, but summer was about relaxing and Dudley was determined that they did so. They often walked to nearby friend's houses for tea or just to hang out.

The two boys had just recently left one day when Peter had stopped by to visit. He had apparated near what he knew from experience to be an empty house at this time and walked to Number 4. However, instead of finding Harry and his cousin outside, he was faced with Petunia and an older looking woman he remembered vaguely having the last name of Figg. After politely inquiring after the boys, and being told they were off at some friend's house, he had thanked Petunia for her time and left. Not an altogether unusual occurrence, except for Mrs. Figg's inclusion.

If he had known what the results of that simple visit would be, Peter might have rescheduled for another day. Mrs. Figg did indeed report to Dumbledore, and while she knew the Dursleys cared for young Harry Potter as if he were their own, she had not known that any wizards were welcome to visit. Later that night, when she firecalled Dumbledore for her monthly report, she left him with quite a bit of food for thought.

Time passed and the entire gang ended up having a blast. Petunia organized yet another extravagant shared party for the boys, which led to more photos (of soaked but smiling cousins gunning each other down with hoses). They continued to visit the homes of their friends, calling ahead before visiting those farther away. This was part of Petunia's resurging insistence that they learn and practice manners outside of school ('although I have some doubts about that') and reminding them that politeness was 'not just for Vernon's business dinners'. When the boys had complained they had been told they were always welcome to visit, she simply sniffed. If they pressed, she would simply tilt her nose up and remind them sternly, "You'll need to know when you are older. You'll thank me someday; you'll see." Hearing the catchphrase of sorts was generally enough to get the boys to cease their complaints. Neither really expected Petunia's vague 'when you're older' to apply anytime soon.

Yet one day at Linda's house (an awkward position given the fact she was their only female friend) in mid-October during the first break that school year, they found that her drills on politeness were lifesavers. The Williams' had what was apparently Linda's father's best friend over to stay for the week, including their daughter. For some ungodly reason they had seen fit to saddle her with the name Mafalda. Then again, most people seemed to have odd names, like Piers and Dudley. Harry was glad his name was simple and easy to remember. Anyway, the younger girl was clearly intelligent, but rather rude, constantly butting in on their time together. It was clear she did not understand that Linda was, as she had put it, the exception that proved the rule that girls were weird and to be avoided in large part.

The Williams' had agreed to let the boys come over despite their visitors, and told them they could either go outside or spend time in the living room as they would be in the parlor and did not want to be disturbed. Mafalda, for reasons best known to her, invited herself along as they went outside. It was all the cousins could do to stay calm as she continuously talked over Linda or corrected her. If someone else tried to get a word in edgewise, she would chide them saying that it was rather rude. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black.

"Well my father says I'm to start learning Latin and arithmetic next year. I bet he'll teach me what you're learning now. I'm so excited. I bet I'll learn loads."

Dudley, who had at this point been very patient – especially for him, lapsed at this point, muttering to himself something that sounded distinctly like, "I wonder if you'll learn to shut up." It just goes to show that attempts to be polite only went so far, particularly with boys.

The young girl's eyes narrowed considerably at him.

"I wonder if you'll learn to shut up before you get yourself in trouble," she snapped, eyes crackling. "You don't want to mess with me. Trust me."

"Right, sure. You're so dangerous with you keeping us a captive audience in an attempt to not hurt our friend's feelings," Harry said sarcastically, rising to his cousin's defense.

Mafalda's gaze turned to him sharply.

"Fine, but I'm just warning you. I might not be much right now, but when I'm older, just you wait."

"Mafalda, please… "

But Linda's plea went unheard as Harry fixed the young girl with a calm stare.

"I don't want to be your enemy, Mafalda. But take some friendly advice; you should never go into a conversation thinking that you are the superior."

Before Mafalda could muster up some sort of retort, a calm voice broke into their little feud.

"Well said, Prongslet."

Walking up behind them, Remus mussed Harry's hair, to his disgruntlement as he tended to keep his bangs in place to hide his scar.

Fortunately for Harry and Dudley (and Linda come to think of it), Mafalda had frozen when Mr. Lupin showed up. Afer they had all piled on him in a group hug sans Mafalda, Lupin explained he was here to escort the boys back home. They gave their best to Linda and the Williams, leaving a happy Linda to successfully avoid the now dumbfounded and much quieter Mafalda.