Thanks for all the well-wishes for my thesis! You guys are super nice :)

Arianne: There will be, though probably not in this story. I plan to keep it rather short (about 20 chapters maybe), but there's at least one or two sequels planned, so we will get there eventually.

Skybox: Dammit! You guessed my idea for the ending! :D

CaseLC: They could, though they don't really dare to. It will be addressed in a future chapter, actually. (I feel like I'm saying this a lot in these ANs...sorry about that, I just don't want to spoil anything.)


The Other One

„You shouldn't have apparated"

Remus rolled his eyes, wincing as it reopened the cut on his eyebrow. "What would you have suggested?" he asked dryly, trying to ignore the stinging sensation of Dittany being poured on fresh wounds. "Walking?"

Sirius snorted. "Call me, prat," he said with a vindictive jab of his wand at one of the few regions of Remus' arm that weren't covered in blood or bruises. "I'd have come and gotten you."

"Didn't want to wake you or Harry up," Remus sighed, feeling his strength leaving him. Somehow he had managed to summon the energy to get dressed and apparate to Grimmauld Place after transforming back this morning, but now that the adrenalin was leaving his body he felt nothing but pain and exhaustion. "It's six in the morning."

"Worked out well, hasn't it?" Sirius said sourly as he tried to wrap bandages around the long gash where Remus had splinched his arm. The animagus had been woken ten minutes ago by the screaming of his mother's portrait as Remus had practically fallen through the front door.

"Sorry," Remus mumbled, closing his eyes. "Just leave it, I'll do it later." All he wanted to do now was sleep. He'd even do it in this uncomfortable kitchen chair if he had to.

"And have you lose your arm? Bright plan, Moony" Sirius voice dripped acid, though Remus knew that it wasn't because of the unkind waking call, but out of worry for him. "Besides, Harry will freak out if he sees you like this. I had enough trouble getting him to sleep last night."

Immediately, Remus' tiredness vanished. "Harry's not been sleeping well?" he asked, eyes snapping open. He had worried, of course, with the boy being as quiet as he had been recently, but with his own pre-moon exhaustion Remus hadn't given it as much thought as he probably should have.

Sirius nodded darkly, his false anger giving way to earnest depression. "Scared out of his wits. Apparently he's been thinking Merlin knows what about Moody; that he cursed you, that you're going to die, and that he's coming to get him...the pirate, he called him. Almost started crying when I suggested to get some takeout, and practically begged me not to go outside."

Remus closed his eyes. "Merlin," he muttered, dread flooding through him. He'd had no idea...but of course Harry had been terrified. They had all been a little bit freaked out by Moody when they first met him, and they hadn't been seven years old and known they were wizards for less than a week. "How is he now?" he asked.

Sirius shrugged, resuming his work on Remus' wounds, but his eyes stayed clouded. "He seemed fine when I left him, still sleeping. I let him stay with me this night. I..." He paused, his face twisting in a grimace of guilt and despair. "I made him go to the door and look outside," he admitted finally, his hands dropping at his sides. "He was practically crying, and he was so afraid, and I forced him to go outside..."

Remus stared at his friend, but then realization struck him. "You had to," he said quickly, still shuddering at the thought. "Waiting would've only made it worse." It was true, of course – he himself knew how crippling fear could be.

After he was bitten, he'd been deathly afraid of wolves, and done his utmost to avoid them, even well into adulthood. When he had first met one on one of their Order missions, a pet that some eccentric pureblood had kept, he had been frozen with fear, unable to even raise his wand as the Death Eaters closed in on them. If it hadn't been for Sirius' and James' quick reactions he'd surely have died, and even so their mission had failed, because of him. Because he had allowed his fear to grow so out of proportion that he could not beat it anymore.

And yet he still didn't envy Sirius for the choice he had been forced to make.

"How did he take it?" he asked quietly when Sirius failed to continue.

His friend sighed, running his hand through his hair. "I showed him some photos of the Order afterwards, and I think it helped seeing Moody with Prongs and Lily. Thanks for the Patronus, by the way."

Remus nodded absentmindedly. Last night he had given it barely any thought – by the time the silvery dog had shown up the moon had been so close he could already feel it tearing at his bones – but now that he considered it he wished he'd have sent something more cheerful.

"Although you might as well have given it some proper form," Sirius continued, a frown appearing on his face. "I practically told Harry your Patronus is a jellyfish."

Remus coughed, completely taken by surprise. "What?"

"Well, what was I supposed to say? Moony's a stupid prat who doesn't like his Patronus form 'cos he thinks it's evil? I was trying to relax him, not frighten him further. It'd be a bit hard to explain what's wrong with a wolf, wouldn't it? I don't even see what's wrong with it."

Remus didn't answer, staring at his torn sleeves instead. He felt exhaustion overcome him once more, and had no desire to argue further on a subject they both knew they would never come to an agreement about.

"You should get back to Harry," he said after a few seconds, slowly rising to his feet, trying to ignore the pain that shot through every fibre of his body. "He might worry if he wakes up and you're not there. Wake me if you need breakfast."

Sirius snorted. "You need sleep, Moony. I'm perfectly capable of making breakfast."

Remus arched an eyebrow at him, albeit shakily due to the blood now running down his face. "Are you?" he asked with as much sarcasm as he could muster, "Then why do I smell burnt toast?"

"Oh, sod off werewolf," Sirius muttered disgruntled, still holding out an arm when Remus threatened to fall over as he made his stumbling way across the kitchen. "Just make sure you get well. I promised Harry, remember?"


When Remus woke later, there was sunlight filtering through the closed curtains, and judging by the angle it had to be past noon already. It quickly became apparent what had woken him, as he listened to the sounds of a dog and a small boy chasing each other through the ancient house, barking and laughter floating through the grim hallways. As Harry didn't sound particularly starved, and there weren't any flames licking on his doorframe, Remus assumed he and Sirius had somehow managed to feed themselves without any catastrophes. Harry sounded happy – exuberant, even – and the worry that Sirius words from that morning had caused in Remus subsided somewhat. Relieved, he sank back into the covers and closed his eyes once more, letting the comforting sound of a child's laughter lull him back to sleep.

When he was woken next, this time by a knock on his door, the shadows had lengthened once more, and the sounds drifting through the opened window were that of a city going to sleep. Remus was rather surprised he had slept this long; usually not even the exhaustion from his transformation kept him in bed for more than a few hours. But then, it had been some time since his days had last been filled with so much activity.

There was a second knock, more timidly this time. Remus scrambled to sit up. "Yeah?" he croaked, his voice hoarse from sleep.

He'd been expecting Sirius, but it was Harry who now opened the door, a steaming mug in his hand and a concerned expression on his face. He looked rather scared as he peered over to Remus, his green eyes flickering over the bandages that covered his arm, and the fresh bruises on his face. Remus was suddenly very thankful Sirius had patched him up this morning, so that he didn't give quite such a horrific sight.

"Hello Harry," he said kindly when the boy appeared to be rooted on the spot, ignoring the pain that shot through his face as he tried to smile. He wondered if Sirius had told Harry to come; the boy seemed everything but happy to be here.

Slowly, Harry stepped forward, clutching his mug with one hand and a stuffed toy in the other. Remus' heart lurched when he recognized the reindeer, the one he had seen so many times perched on Sirius' bed. He knew how hard it must've been for his friend to give it up, and wondered once more in what shape Harry had been last night that it had warranted such a sacrifice.

"A-Are you okay?" Harry asked hesitantly, stopping a few paces in front of Remus' bed. It was worry that shone in his green eyes, Remus now recognized, not disgust.

"I'm quite alright, Harry, thank you," Remus said quickly, slipping his injured arm under the covers. "Just a few scratches."

"Sirius said you had to go away to get better," Harry continued, eyes still huge as he examined the bruises on Remus' face. "But you don't look better," he added quietly.

Remus felt his throat tighten at the concern that laced the boy's voice. He felt deeply touched that Harry would worry so much for him, but it broke his heart to be the reason for his upset. "I will be soon," he reassured Harry, managing a more convincing smile this time. "I'm feeling much better already."

It was true, actually. Now that he thought about it, this moon had been far gentler than usual. Of course there had still been anger and hatred, claws and blood, but the beast had been tamer, more the way it had been back at school, before Prongs, Padfoot and Wormtail had joined it. Maybe some part of it had known that it was no longer alone, that part of his pack had returned, and that there was a pup waiting for him at home. Whatever the reasons, Remus was not lying when he told Harry that he felt fine.

Relief flooded Harry's face, and he hastily held out the mug he'd brought with him. "I made you some tea," he said, looking proud and fearful at once. "Sirius showed me how to do it. He said you liked milk in it."

Remus smile broadened, and this time he barely noticed the pain. "Thank you, Harry," he said, gingerly taking the cup from him, "That's very kind of you." When he noticed Harry lingering next to his bed uncertainly, he padded the mattress next to him with his free hand. "Would you care to sit down? I'd love to hear about your day."

Harry eagerly nodded and climbed under the covers next to Remus, the stag still clutched to his chest. "Sirius told me about Quidditch!" he reported excitedly, evidently just as enthralled by the sport as his father had been, even though he had never played it.

As he listened to Harry's enthusiastic tales, answering a few questions here and there, Remus sipped his tea, struggling very hard to keep a straight face while he forced himself to swallow. Whether it was due to Harry's inexperience or Sirius tutelage – the man had been known to burn muesli, after all – this watery, milky mixture was about the vilest thing that he had ever tasted, and did not deserve the name 'tea' in any way. But it was Harry who had made it for him, and Remus would rather drink pure aconite than reject his work.

"...and then he apportated, but that was cheating, wasn't it?" Harry finished the tale about his and Sirius game of chase, and Remus quickly nodded.

"The term is apparated, but yes, it is most certainly cheating." He frowned, before and idea struck him. "Next time he does it," he said, feeling a mischievous grin slip on his face – he really was feeling much better than usually – "take one of these-" he fished a small bundle out of the drawer on his nightstand and held it out to Harry, "and throw it at him, just when he turns. If you do it right, it'll follow him and explode once he reappears."

Harry took the bundle, if rather hesitantly, and looked it over sceptically. "What is it?"

"Itching powder," Remus said, wondering if muggles had their own variation that Harry might be familiar with, "Not very strong, and not dangerous at all, but annoying for a few minutes. A just punishment for cheating, don't you think?"

Finally, a grin spread on Harry's face as he seemed to warm to the idea of fighting Sirius' dirty tricks with some of his own – he was James Potter's son, after all. "Thank you!" he said brightly, carefully storing the powder in his trouser pocket.

"Only fair after you made me such nice tea isn't it?" Remus smiled, thinking that if Sirius really was responsible for this brew of hell, then it was quite fair payback indeed. "So what else did you do apart from being cheated on by your godfather? Did you have lunch?"

Harry nodded. "Sirius made crisp and Bertie Botts bean salad," he said, grinning – Remus' felt his stomach churn at that, and seriously considered getting up to hex Sirius for providing such an inappropriate meal for a seven-year-old – "and I read some more. I really like the books you gave me!"

The idea of culinary vengeance vanished in an instance as Remus felt his heart swell. "You did?" he said, wondering why his voice sounded choked all of a sudden. "What did you read?"

"Charlie and the Chocolate Factory," Harry answered, "but I didn't finish yet. It's awesome, though. I really like the part where Augustus fell into the chocolate lake..." he stopped, looking slightly guilty, and Remus couldn't help but chuckle. "Yes, I thought you might enjoy that part," he said, remembering the horribly obese child that had stood between Petunia and her husband. Harsh as it might be, he could very well understand why Harry might like the idea of having his cousin treated that way.

"I rather liked it myself when I was your age," he said instead, remembering how enchanted he had been at six years old. "I always wanted to see an Oompa-Loompa, and was heart-broken when my father told me they don't exist."

Harry's head whipped around. "They don't?" he asked, frowning, and Remus winced at his own tactlessness.

"I'm afraid not," he said apologetically. "It's a muggle book, you see? The author made them up."

"But muggles have books about wizards, too" Harry objected, "and they are real. Are you sure there are no Oompa-Loompas? Maybe just nobody found one yet."

Remus felt his smile return. "That might be true," he agreed. "Maybe you can go look for them when you're older? Become an explorer?"

Harry beamed.

Feeling encouraged by the boy's obvious lack of fear given his current state, and thinking that Sirius could probably use a break, Remus wondered, "Do you want me to read the rest of it to you?"

Harry didn't answer immediately, and Remus winced. He was a boring, bedridden grown-up who simply happened to live with Harry's godfather. And Harry probably didn't even like to be read to, and-

"Would you do that?" Harry asked, green eyes wide open. "Aren't you too sick?"

And Remus realized the real reason for his hesitation. No-one's ever read to him – no-one he can remember, anyway. He swallowed quickly to get rid of the lump in his throat, and hoped his smile didn't look too sad. "I think I can probably manage a few chapters, if you would be so kind and fetch the book."

Harry was up in an instant, racing from the room like a certain Animagus who had smelled sausages. Remus used his short absence to vanish the rest of his now cold 'tea' and set down the mug on his nightstand, where it joined an assortment of others that he hadn't bothered to clean up before his departure.

He remembered the only other time he had read to Harry. It had been shortly before James and Lily had gone into hiding, one of the last times he had seen them. He and Peter had volunteered to babysit Harry, but Peter had cancelled at the last minute because of some obscure relative getting sick – thinking back, Remus shuddered as he realized that the traitorous rat had probably met with Voldemort that day – and Remus had been left on his own with the toddler. At first he had been terrified. Death Eaters might be out to kill him, full moons might tear his flesh, but at least he knew how to deal with them. There were no counter-courses or pain potions to deal with crying babies.

It had been more out of desperation than any real thinking that he had started reading to Harry, and the book – A Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, if he remembered correctly – had hardly been appropriate for a child his age. But somehow it had worked, and by the time Lily came to pick him up, she had found a very relieved looking werewolf and a peacefully sleeping son.

Panicked as he might have been, Remus later remembered that day with nothing but fondness. Because for one afternoon, just a few hours, he had allowed his mind to wander, to imagine what might be, what could be if only...

Stomping in the hallway announced Harry's return, and seconds later the seven-year-old stormed into the room, no hint of his earlier reluctance as he flung himself at the bed. "This is where I'm at!" he announced proudly, pushing the opened book over to Remus who took it gingerly, taking care not to upset his injured arm as he awkwardly held it with one hand.

"You're nearly through!" he exclaimed, rather impressed at Harry's speed. Then again, he had spent a lot of time in his room recently. "We'll have to make sure you don't run out of books." Mentally, he was already scanning the list of library books he had binge-read as a child and wondering which ones Harry would like.

This is what it would be like; he thought as he adjusted his position and cleared his throat, if only you had not been bitten.

Yet he had, and the child huddling next to him listening with big eyes would only ever be another's, never his own.


Sirius found them later, both fast asleep.

Harry was sprawled across Remus's chest, the stag firmly in one hand, while the werewolf had his arm around him, the forgotten book lying next to him.

Sirius made to withdraw silently, but Remus' eyes opened, making him linger. "Are you okay?" he mouthed.

Remus nodded, carefully shifting in a more comfortable position without waking Harry. It was dark outside, and judging by his grumbling stomach it had to be very late.

"Need help?" Sirius asked quietly, grinning at his friend's efforts to disentangle himself from the sleeping boy.

"I don't want to disturb him" Remus said softly, but he couldn't ignore the cramping in his leg and felt rather grateful when Sirius stepped closer and carefully picked Harry up.

"I'll take him to bed. You stay here; I'll bring you something to eat."

Remus nodded and watched Sirius vanish down the hallway, before he slowly swung his legs out of bed and searched the room for some fresh clothes. He could still taste the horrible tea, and had no desire to submit himself to any more of Sirius' culinary ventures.

"I told you to stay in bed!" his friend complained when he found him in the kitchen fifteen minutes later, clutching a fresh cup of Earl Grey and slowly chewing on some shortbread he had found in the back of the kitchen cupboard.

"M'fine," he mumbled, still feeling tired but not wanting to return to bed. It was past midnight, and he knew he'd only wake up again after an hour or two. No point in going to bed anymore; he'd catch up on sleep the next night. "How is he?"

"Didn't even blink when I put him to bed," Sirius said, falling down on the chair opposite. "I set up a spell to warn me when he wakes, in case there are any...any more nightmares." His face clouded over once more, and the piece of shortbread he had picked up was crumbled has his fists clenched. "I have half a mind to go out there and blast Moody off the street," he muttered darkly, "They already think I'm a mass murderer, might as well earn it."

Remus didn't immediately answer, watching his friend's face as he tried to gauge the situation. He wasn't sure what to feel himself – of course he had expected the Order to hunt them, and while Remus felt shocked that Moody would open fire on a child, the Auror had probably thought he was saving him from two Death Eaters. Once more he wondered about his letter, and if it had even reached Dumbledore.

"You will do no such thing," he said finally when he had come to the conclusion that Sirius might actually be, well, serious. "Not to mention alone traumatizing Harry, you won't be on the run forever. We'll clear up this whole mess, and then you'll be a free man again. Do you really want to jeopardize that?"

Sirius snorted and, disgruntled, stuffed the remains of his shortbread in his mouth. The vengeful fire in his eyes had dimmed, and he looked as depressed as he had that morning. "Free man?" he laughed humourlessly. "Yeah, sure. When gnomes fly."

This new bout of depression was like a punch in the gut, but Remus forced himself to stay cheerful. He was still uncertain as to the aftereffects of Azkaban, and since Sirius had made it very clear he would not talk about it, Remus was left to guessing how affected his friend really was.

"They do if you throw them hard enough," he offered, smiling half-heartedly. But Sirius wasn't even looking at him anymore, his gaze fixed on the table as he seemed deep in thought.

"How do you do it?" he asked abruptly after several minutes of silence, pulling Remus out of his study of the milky clouds swirling in his tea.

"Do what?" he asked, puzzled. He was relatively certain that Sirius was neither talking about throwing gnomes nor making tea.

"Be so relaxed with Harry," Sirius continued, still staring at the table top. "You're just...you don't worry at all. You're so confident, and he's always calm with you. How do you manage it?"

Remus stared at his friend in disbelief. "M-manage?" he repeated incredulously, wondering how on Earth Sirius had gotten the idea that he was in any way confident when it came to handling Harry.

"He was crying so much yesterday," Sirius barely seemed to register Remus' voice, "And I kept wondering if things had gone better if you'd been there. I just...I remembered your wolf thing, and I dragged him outside so it wouldn't happen to him, but it was so horrible, and then I couldn't even make dinner properly...I can't help thinking that they should've chosen you, not me. I'm not fit to bring up a child! I mean, Lily actually forbade me from procreating!"

Despite his shock and anguish, Remus couldn't supress the chuckle as he remembered that particular exchange. "That was because you were trying to name her son Arthur Uther Pendragon Potter," he pointed out, before quickly sobering when he realized just how earnest Sirius was. "You can't honestly believe that I'd do a better job," he said quietly, wondering when Sirius had come to think so lowly of himself. The 21-year-old who'd been appointed godfather would never for one moment have paused to maybe even consider failure. But then, that man hadn't spent six years in Azkaban blaming himself for his best friends' death.

"Harry adores you," he continued more firmly. "He loves you. He doesn't blame you in any way for what happened, and neither should you. It's not your fault the Order is hunting us. You did what you thought best when you took him away from the muggles – and I wholeheartedly agree – and you are still doing what is best for Harry. And I could never replace you. I'm..." he paused, remembering how nice it had felt to read to Harry, and how comfortable the boy had seemed. "I'm his godfather's friend. I think he likes being around me, but it's you he needs. Maybe that's why it's easier for me," he added after a moment of thought, "because I'm only ever the substitute."

Sirius winced at that. "Don't talk like that; you're not a substitute, Moony!"

But Remus didn't really mind. It was true, after all; that's how it had always been. James Potter and Sirius Black, the brightest boys in school, brothers in all but blood. And then there had been Remus and Peter, the other two. Not that James and Sirius hadn't included them; in fact, all of the four boys had been closer than most other friendships at Hogwarts. But it had never been quite the bond that had existed between James and Sirius. And Remus hadn't minded, content, happy with having friends at all, wonderful friends at that. It was so much more than he could ever have hoped for.

"I'm not Harry's godfather, though," he quickly said, not wanting to relay all of that to Sirius. "Ultimately, it's not me who's responsible. Of course it's harder for you. But you're doing a brilliant job, considering the circumstances. Harry's happy, safe, he's well-fed ..." He paused, remembering the unconventional lunch. "Well, maybe there's some work to do in that department..."

Sirius grinned sheepishly, some of the darkness lifting from his face. "I made him brush his teeth, though!"

Remus arched an eyebrow. "Was that before or after you raided my chocolate stash?"

The last of Sirius's depression faded as a guilty expression came onto his face. "How di-That was Harry!"

The eyebrow wandered higher. "Are you honestly stooping so low as to frame a seven-year-old for your thievery?"

"Well, it was for Harry," Sirius weaselled, his eyes flickering nervously towards Remus' wand hand. The werewolf had been known to go to drastic measures to preserve his chocolate stock back in Hogwarts. "And it was educational; I introduced him to the trading cards!"

Remus snorted, but had to chuckle nonetheless. Sudden as his changes in mood came, this mischievous Sirius was far more enjoyable than the brooding self that he had brought with him from Azkaban. "Talking about education," he said, remembering something that he had been meaning to bring up, "Don't you think we should do something about Harry's? I know we can't send him to a muggle school, but we have to do something." So far, Harry had seemed very bright and well-versed to Remus, but he knew more would have to be done if it was to stay that way.

To his surprise, Sirius didn't even seem the slightest bit concerned. "Well, that's not hard, isn't it? You're gonna teach him, obviously."

Remus blinked. "Me?"

"No, the other werewolf bookworm currently living here," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "Of course you. Lily already asked you, didn't she? And I remember you saying yes. But if it helps, I'll pay you."

Remus bristled. "I'm already eating your food, I don't want your money," he hissed, but his annoyance quickly faded when he remembered that he had indeed promised Lily and James he'd teach their son when he was old enough. But that felt like a lifetime ago, when his life had still been whole, and when his responsibilities to Harry stretched only so far as to occasionally babysit him and maybe remember his birthday. Now, however...

"Oh please, don't act like this is a surprise," Sirius scoffed, stuffing a piece of shortbread whole in his mind as he was apparently finding his appetite once more. "Who else is gonna do it, me? You told me yourself I have the reading level of a five-year-old. Besides, I'm trying to be the fun parent. You can be the annoying one who makes him eat his vegetables and do chores."

Remus rolled his eyes, but still felt a smile creeping onto his face.

The annoying one...yes. He would always be the second choice, the other one, the uncle to Sirius' father. And maybe Harry would grow to resent him once he grew tired of reading and studying, or once he learned the truth about Remus' curse. And no, it would never be his own child that he could tutor. But it was enough. He would get to be part of Harry's life, a second chance to the life he had thought over after that fateful Halloween. It was more than he had dared dream, and he would be truly content.


Hope this wasn't too depressing, but I felt like I hadn't really written much from Remus PoV so I thougth I'd give him a chapter of his own.

Got at least five other chapters lined up so far so expect another one by Wednesday as usual :)

And don't forget to review! ;)