Thanks for all the comments about Churchill, it was really bugging me. The only comparison I could come up with for myself was Hitler, but while I think I'd probably heard of him at that age, for obvious reasons he wasn't part of the curriculum in year three. (Not trying to put Hitler in the same boat with Churchill, obviously, it's just that he's sort of the most famous politician Germany's ever had. Which is actually quite depressing, come to think of it.)

Guest(1): That's something that has actually always bugged me in the books; all those miscarriages of judgment are sort of hard to justify if there's things like Veritaserum and Unbreakable Vows. Even if they have laws about not forcing people to take the potion, surely if someone volunteered to take it they'd have to take that as proof? Concerning this story, the problem is communicating at all. As they're under the Fidelius, they have to be very careful to not give themselves away accidentally. It will be addressed in later chapters, though.

Millie: They sort of do know he was treated badly (I actually have a small revenge planned for much later), but there's not much they can do about it except make up for it by spoiling Harry rotten. They'd never force him to help clean, of course, but as I mentioned in earlier chapters he quite likes to help anyway. Who wouldn't, with an house as interesting as Grimmauld Place? This story is actually set in spring (I think I mentioned it was April in the first chapter), I just lazily use "six years" for the time Sirius spent in Azkaban because "six-and-a-half" would sort of break the flow. Sorry for any confusions. Regarding Remus, of course he will ;)

CaseLC: I'd be lying if I said I hadn't also done it for the laughs, but mostly I wanted to show Sirius and Remus slipping back into their old "war routine". I imagine they used humour a lot to cope with all that horror during the First War, and being flung back into battle like that revives those old reflexes. But your point about Sirius kissing him being more shocking than Death Eaters is far better! :D

ShinigamiRae: Good point! Hadn't even thought about that.


The Things We Do

„That was far too close," Remus said as soon as the door closed behind them. Sirius merely nodded, slowly making his way down the stairs. After the horrifying events this evening Harry had not seemed overly keen to sleep in his new room, and so he and Remus had sat down in the study with him, talking and drinking hot chocolate until the boy had finally fallen asleep on the sofa.

Now they walked down to the kitchen, only now really coming to terms with what had happened. "I know. You were right; I should never have taken him outside..." The guilt that had churned at the back of his head for the last couple of hours hit him with full force, as he realized, for the first time, just how close he had come to losing Harry.

Losing the one thing that mattered more than anything else.

He collapsed into a chair, burying his face in his hands.

I almost failed him. I almost failed James again, and it was all my fault...

"We made it, though," Remus added quickly, in a rather transparent bid to lift his spirits. "And Moody would never have hurt Harry – he only shot stunning spells, didn't he? We might've ended up in prison, but for Harry it was harmless."

Sirius scoffed. "Harmless?" he repeated dryly. "How's your shoulder?" He didn't wait for Remus to answer as he went on, jumping to his feet in anguish. "You saw him after we got back. He was utterly terrified." The horror in those green eyes haunted him even now. "He'll probably have nightmares for days, if not months. It's bad enough I make him live in this hell house, and now I'm traumatizing him even further." He was pacing now, but he barely noticed as ever more scenarios of horror solidified in his mind. Harry, hit by a spell, collapsing. Harry, crying himself to sleep. Harry, staring at him in panic, frightened of the man who had dragged him into this life of hell. And James and Lily, who he had failed, who he was still failing...

"Sirius... Sirius. Padfoot." It took him a moment to realize that Remus was calling his name, and he suddenly felt himself pushed gently back into his chair. "Calm down," his friend said firmly, sliding a bar of chocolate towards him. "Eat."

Sirius bristled. "I'm not a bloody child, Moony! I'm-"

"You look like a ghost, " Remus interrupted him, unwrapping the chocolate and breaking it into smaller pieces that he pushed back to him. "And whatever's going through your head right now, it's not you. "

He met his gaze firmly, and after a few moments of staring Sirius relented, and grudgingly shoved a handful of chocolate in his mouth.

It's over. You're out of there, you're never going back. You'll kill yourself before you go back to that place.

Except it wasn't over. The dread was still there, lurking in his mind, ready to pounce at the first sign of weakness. Feasting on his doubts and fears. His body might have escaped Azkaban, but his mind hadn't.

"What did you tell Harry?" Remus' quiet voice broke the silence. "About why you change into a dog every night."

Sirius winced. He had hoped his friend wouldn't notice, wouldn't make the connection – after all, Sirius had slept as a dog occasionally even when they were back at Hogwarts, whenever the mood struck him. But of course Remus had noticed, because he woke up at five in the bloody morning, and of course he knew why Sirius changed, because he wasn't an idiot.

"Didn't ask," he mumbled, breaking off some more chocolate. Much as he hated to admit it, it did actually help, and he felt the cold slowly leave his body. "Think I freaked him out a little bit that first morning, but there's so much new stuff to discover he didn't even question why I did it." He sighed, watching as Remus slowly walked over to the sink to make some more tea.

"I don't do it on purpose," he admitted quietly, staring down at his chocolate-covered fingers. "I don't even notice; it just...happens."

Remus threw him a sad glance. "It's a miracle you made it out there alive," he said sympathetically. "Most people would have gone insane after all that time. But you did it. You did get out, and you're there for Harry now."

"Yeah," Sirius muttered, not really convinced, "his mentally unstable godfather. Starting to think he'd be better off with the muggles after all."

"No you don't," Remus said, uncharacteristically sharp. "You know they treated him like vermin, you know Harry'd rather sleep in the streets than go back to them. And he obviously adores you. So what if you wake up as a dog sometimes? Saves us the bother of getting him a pet... You know how much I hate cats."

Sirius couldn't help but chuckle at that, feeling his gloominess seep away. Part of him was disappointed he didn't get to mope for longer, but he forced himself to eat another mouthful of chocolate and grinned. "A broomstick for his birthday it is, then?"

Remus sighed. "Might as well, given we lost our means of transportation...shame, really. I liked that broomstick."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "It was like a million years old and about as fast as Dumbledore's grandmother. Good riddance. I say we get Harry a Starsweeper, or maybe a Nimbus. What's the latest model?"

Remus arched an eyebrow. "I have absolutely no idea," he said dryly without looking up from where he was pouring the milk. "This might come as a surprise to you, but I'm not exactly the most well-informed customer of high end brooms. And-," he continued as he carried the mugs back to the table, "-putting a seven-year-old on a professional racing broom is something I think even James wouldn't have condoned. Especially if it was his seven-year-old."

"What about a motorbike, then," Sirius asked undeterred, his good spirits fully returned. (For now, at least, but he choose to ignore the darkness that still lingered at the back of his mind) "I left mine with Hagrid. Reckon he still has it?"

"If you let Harry so much as near that monstrosity," Remus said gravely, although there was an amused twinkling in his eyes, "Lily will literally come back from the grave and murder us."

"Werewolves are no fun," Sirius muttered, grudgingly accepting the tea while wishing it was something stronger.

"That's actually something I've been meaning to bring up," Remus said, his voice suddenly subdued once more. "Full moon's this Friday."

Sirius felt himself sober immediately. "Oh." It shamed him to realize that in the middle of all the Harry business, he had actually forgotten about Remus' furry little problem.

"I suppose we can clean up the attic until then," he said slowly. "Ward it off, soundproof it...moonrise isn't until late this time of year, is it? Harry'll be asleep before it starts. I-"

"I'm not spending it here," Remus said at once. "Not with Harry here."

"But I don't want to leave him on his-"

"-and you're not going with me."

Sirius stared. "Moony-"

"This is not up for discussion," Remus insisted, determination in his blue eyes. "You know how much can go wrong. And do you really want a feral werewolf in the same house as Harry?"

"You're not-"

"Of course I am," Remus snapped voice growing louder. "It's not like it used to be; I'm not the tame little wolf you can take with you on your adventures anymore. That part died long ago, Sirius. The wolf now...it's a dark creature. And he might very well rip you apart to get to Harry. And then rip him apart."

The last words he had almost shouted, and for a moment they merely stared at each other, Remus breathing heavily with an anguished look on his face while Sirius was too stunned to move a muscle.

He had known this self-loathing side of Remus, of course –lycantrophy and a brooding mind did not mix well with teenage hormones – but never this strongly, never with this much conviction.

You went through hell, but so did he.

"I'm sorry," he finally said. "It's your decision, not mine." If things had been different, if it had been just the two of them living here, he might have continued the argument, insisted that Remus let him help. But they weren't, and much as he hated to admit it, Sirius did share some of his friend's concerns. He had seen first-hand what destruction the wolf could bring, how violent it could become. He could very well understand why Remus did not want Harry to be in the same house, and if he was honest with himself, neither did he.

"Where will you go?" he asked finally, when the silence stretched out.

Remus shrugged, sipping his tea. "Got a few hideouts that the Order doesn't know about. They'd be mad to try and capture me during the full moon, but I'd rather not take the risk." He didn't elaborate further, and Sirius couldn't shake of the feeling that the werewolf was deliberately vague, for fear that Sirius might decide to follow him after all.

He didn't argue about it, tired of fighting and worrying. "You really are an atrocious kisser," he said instead after a few more minutes of silence, smirking.

Remus snorted into his tea. "I still can't believe you actually did that," he muttered resentfully. "I'll have nightmares for weeks."

Sirius grinned. "They were getting suspicious; I had to do something. And others kissing makes people uncomfortable. Not even Moody would stare at that." When Remus didn't reply, his grin broadened. "I'm sorry, did I get your hopes up? No offence, Moony, but you really aren't my type."

"Well that's a relief," Remus said sarcastically, rubbing his shoulder before grimacing. "Next time you'll be the woman. My feet are killing me." He rolled his eyes at Sirius howls of laughter, but couldn't prevent a small chuckle from escaping his own mouth.

Battered, they might be. A little broken, too. And certainly not the family either of them would have wished for Harry. But they would do their best, they would keep fighting. And somehow they would prevail, against the shadows of Azkaban, against full moons misguided Order members. Because they had to.

For Harry.


For Harry.

As he listened to Alastor's report that oscillated between furious indignation and quiet, grudging apologies for his own lack of constant vigilance, Albus wondered how far he would have to go for the boy.

He was now almost certain that Remus' letter had indeed been telling the truth. There had been several muggle witnesses who had seen the small family, and apparently they had practically bought a complete children's bedroom. They obviously meant to settle in for the long run at Grimmauld Place, and unless Sturgis' theory was correct, and they were planning to raise him as a second Dark Lord, that could only mean that their intentions were indeed well-meaning.

Well-meaning, but woefully misguided.

Because with every day that passed, with every new bookshelf, every new toy, the bond that tied Harry to Privet Drive dwindled – how long would it take for the boy to fully view this new place as home? A week? A month? Merlin knew those unpleasant relatives hadn't made it hard for him to let go.

Maybe you should've acted sooner. You saw the signs; Arabella told you often enough. If you had acted sooner, maybe allowed Remus or somebody else to visit once in a while...

But he had known how dangerous it would be for Harry to come in contact with the wizarding world too soon, how easy it would've been for him to fall into the wrong hands. No, he had to be kept safe. Lily Potter's sacrifice could not be allowed to have been in vain.

"Sodding kissing," Alastor was just muttering, still very much outraged. "How should I ...I mean..."

"Well, I always did wonder about those two..." Sturgis commented with a sly grin, although it quickly dropped when he saw that nobody else was smiling. "At least we know they're not going anywhere," he added quickly, straightening. "And don't you think it might be time to inform the ministry, Dumbledore? We can stand guard all we like, but we're not getting in there on our own. We need more resources."

"You've read the minister's last statement, haven't you?" Minerva snapped uncharacteristically harshly, making Sturgis, a former student of her, flinch. She had been hit particularly hard by Remus betrayal, Albus knew, having always been quite fond of the four boys at Hogwarts despite their blatant disregard for rules or homework. "They'd be rushing in there with a host of Dementors within the hour. The poor boy's already been abducted; we're not going to help matters by getting his soul sucked out."

"No Dementors," Daedalus nodded quickly, his top hat wobbling precariously on his head. "They're obviously ineffective against Black anyway. But if we could maybe explain the matter to the minister..." He drifted off, looking towards Albus, and soon all other eyes on the table followed.

The old man sighed silently.

For Harry.

"We will try for one more month," he said finally, "If we have not managed to find him by then, I will talk to the minister."


Bit shorter this time, but the next one will be enormous, so you will be compensated.

And before anybody asks, yes I did steal that chapter title from Game of Thrones. Sue me. (Please don't)