This is it, then. The final chapter...
First of all, let me thank all of the wonderful people who read, followed and reviewed this story. I don't think I would've finished it without you. You are simply the best!:)
Secondly, even though this one is now through, I will continue the plot, as previously mentioned. The sequel I have planned will pick up a couple of years later (it'll be titled "The Other Letter", make of that what you will) and it might take me a while to get it properly started, but there'll be another story, or rather a collection of Oneshots, to fill the gaps in the remaining years. It'll be titled "Pictures" and the first chapter should be up in one or two weeks. So keep your eyes open for them!
Thundramon: Good idea about Percy's rat... but I'm afraid Sirius will have to wait for his freedom a little bit longer :/
Darkstar-ranger: We'll definitely see Harry at Hogwarts (what kind of Harry Potter story doesn't feature Hogwarts?) but it might still be a while. The plan generally is to see this all the way through until book seven, but obviously I can't promise anything yet, as that is still ages and ages away.
katmom: Dumbledore certainly made a bit of a rash call there, but I he never thought Harry was in any real danger. He knew Remus and Sirius would be far too careful to let him come to harm.
RoboTitaness: Practice! I've been writing stories pretty much ever since I could write, and reading my early work usually makes me cringe horribly XD
Irindiglo: To be honest, I always thought that whole blood protection wasn't very well explained in the books, and left a lot of room for interpretation (or confusion). I'm actually rather glad I won't have to reincorporate it any longer...
I Want To Die69: Thanks! I'm not entirely sure how far the next instalment will go, but definitely not past year one.
alix33: I'm glad you liked it! And you're right, Dumbledore needed to hear that. I also wanted to thank you for spotting all my mistakes during this whole story (and my other ones), I really appreciate that you take the time to help me get rid of them:)
Dragonson: It was Tonks, but I don't think she has a clue who Remus even was. She's still a fifth year here, and even though she probably heard about Sirius escaping, the general population have no idea Harry even went missing.
lojosmom: He sure did – though it'll obviously be a while until they start dating, or even meet again. If you want fluff, look out for Pictures – it'll just be Oneshots, and it'll basically be 100% fluff (with some angst strewn in, but quickly followed by more fluff.)
Obviously thanks to all the other reviewers, too, I hope I didn't miss any questions!
Now, without blabbing on any longer, here's the final chapter... enjoy:) (as this is the epilogue, I decided to mirror layout ofthe first chapter - art and all that!)
Epilogue
The Dog on the Bed
"I still think we should keep it until next year, or at least Christmas..."
Sirius snorted at his friend who was uneasily looking down at the large parcel in his hands. "It says aged seven or older. He's eight. If anything, we should've gone for a faster one."
"It also says outside use only," Remus pointed out, but obviously realized that the fight had been lost and put the wrapped broom back on the table. "At least make sure he knows he's only allowed to fly it with one of us watching."
"Sure, Granddad." Sirius rolled his eyes as he swung his wand at the balloons filling the room, enlarging them for the fourth time that morning. Finally satisfied, he turned around with a grin. "You're just worried he'll forget all about your presents 'cos mine is so much cooler."
"I wasn't aware this was a competition," Remus muttered, moving the cake a little so the candles weren't directly below a balloon.
Sirius grinned, feeling ridiculously happy. "Everything is a competition if you make it so," he pointed out, before turning his head to the – now functional – clock. "Reckon he's up by now? Maybe he's afraid to come down."
"Or maybe he's just sleeping, seeing as it's not even eight. Good morning, Kreacher."
Sirius' head snapped around as he saw the house elf shuffling in the room. His euphoria immediately dimmed. "Kreacher sees the Master and his friend," the house elf muttered. "Kreacher sees they have not choked during the night."
Sirius snorted, not greeting the house elf, but found he couldn't muster up quite the same revulsion he might have a month ago. As the house elf went, the greeting had been almost cordial; he hadn't called them any names and sounded only marginally disappointed at their continued existence. Deciding to make a similar effort, seeing as it was Harry's birthday, Sirius forced a somewhat sincere smile on his face. "Is that for Harry, Kreacher? Why don't you put it to the other ones?"
The house elf, holding a small, rather shabbily wrapped parcel, slowly turned is head, for once meeting Sirius' eyes. For a moment they simply looked at each other, neither moving a muscle. When the house elf finally lowered his head and shuffled over to the large wooden table, Sirius felt there was an unspoken agreement between them.
Peace for the sake of Harry.
Sirius would never like the house elf, and Kreacher would never feel anything but contempt for his Master. But they would keep their hatred to themselves, not burdening the boy they both cared for with it – even though Sirius still could not understand the strange loyalty that Kreacher felt towards Harry.
It was not ideal, and it might not always work. But it was enough for now, and if it made Harry happy then Sirius would do everything to keep it this way.
"It's past eight now," he pointed out after a few moments of uncomfortable silence, returning to his original conversation with Remus. "I think I'll go and see if he's up."
Remus sighed exasperatedly from where he had sat down on the sofa, and lowered his Prophet. "If you must. But go quietly, he's allowed to sleep in on his birthday."
Sirius didn't answer, already transforming into the large black dog. Valiantly ignoring the smell of bacon and sausages wafting in from the kitchen he set off towards the stairs, climbing them in a well-practiced – and not very quiet – run.
From below, he could hear hurried steps, and Remus hissing after him from downstairs. "Padfoot! No jumping on his bed!"
But Padfoot didn't listen, already at the top of the stairs, and cautiously walked over to Harry's door, listening intently. All was quiet. He grinned to himself. Careful not to make a noise he rose to his hind paws, diligently pushing down the door handle. As expected, Harry was still peacefully sleeping, one arm hanging off his bed, the other tightly clutching his stuffed stag. Padfoot's grin broadened.
As the other Marauders had all learned first-hand, there really was really only one way to be woken up on one's birthday.
The Man in the Armchair
He winced at the sound of something crashing, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Kreacher do the same. Harry, being his father's son, had of course loved the broomstick his godfather had given him for his birthday, and insisted on trying it out on the spot.
After some debate Remus had convinced him to at least wait till after breakfast, but now that the last strip of bacon had been gulped down by Padfoot, there was no holding them back. Remus knew that he shouldn't worry about Harry. Sirius might be reckless to the point of idiocy when it came to himself – and, occasionally, other people – but he'd never risk Harry coming to harm. They had chosen the drawing room as a starting point for Harry to learn, as it was the largest room in the house and, unlike the library, not filled with countless bookshelves. Sirius had put a cushioning charm on all the walls and even dug out an old Quidditch helmet for Harry, so realistically there was no way the boy could come to harm.
The same, however, could not be said about the remaining furniture and decorations. There was another crash, sounding like metal hitting the ground. Looking over to Kreacher – who had insisted on cleaning up all the wrapping paper after Harry had opened his presents – he could see that the house elf was actually trembling now, obviously struggling very hard to keep himself from apparating up there and saving the family heirlooms.
"The brat is enjoying itself. Kreacher must not disturb it, no, no. Little Master Brat must be happy today."
Remus felt an odd burst of sympathy at the distracted muttering.
In his own strange way he cares for Harry, just as you do.
That, and the house elf had basically saved them from starvation. Even though Remus was glad to be able to apparate in and out of Grimmauld Place on his own again, he had to admit that house elf magic had proven extraordinarily useful.
He could hear barking now, and Harry's bubbling laughter. There was a loud bang, as if something heavy had fallen over.
"Kreacher," Remus put down the quill, looking over the house elf who had started to stuff wrapping paper into his enormous ears, obviously attempting to block out the sounds. The house elf had never shown any inclination to obey a command from him – not that Remus had tried – but he looked up now nevertheless. "Do you know how to make chocolate éclairs? I know that Harry loves them, but I could only get the ready-made ones from the muggle store."
As he had hoped, the house elves eyes lit up at once. "Master Brat wants Éclairs?" he repeated, slowly. "Mater Brat can't have muggle filth for his birthday! Kreacher will make proper ones!"
Remus smiled as he watched him go, looking just as happy as he had when Harry had hugged him after opening the house elf's present (a rather ugly looking portrait of Harry, obviously painted by Kreacher himself). But even though Remus had only sent Kreacher away so he would have a distraction from the destruction upstairs, he couldn't help but feel guilty at the sliver of relief he felt when the door closed behind the elf.
House elves and the slavish loyalty they felt made him deeply uncomfortable, and even though he knew it was unfair he could never quite relax with Kreacher around.
You'll just have to learn, he decided, returning to his parchment, Merlin knows there's plenty of people who feel uncomfortable around you and still make an effort.
"GRYFFINDOR WINS!"
He flinched, almost upsetting the mug of tea he'd been balancing on the armrest, but despite the hot liquid splashing over his fingers he couldn't help but smile.
This is what it's supposed to be like.
There was a fire burning in the corner – it might be the middle of summer, but the house had the uncanny ability to be cold and drafty all year round – and he was sitting comfortably and without worry about where the next meal might come from. And, most importantly, he wasn't alone.
For now, he'd decided to give Sirius and Harry some time on their own, but he knew that he could join them anytime he wanted. After lunch – which would, in proper birthday fashion, consist of cake and hopefully éclairs – they'd go to a nearby park – in contrast to them, Kreacher could safely apparate Harry, and after the supervision through "the pirate" had ended Harry had been rather eager to leave the house – and maybe go see a movie, something that Harry had never done. Then, in the evening they'd read together cramped into Harry's bed as had become their routine (even Kreacher had taken to lurking in the doorframe).
If somebody had told him a few months ago that his life would soon look like this, he'd probably have laughed at them. This domestic mundanity – or as mundane as it could be if you were an escaped convict, a kidnaped boy and a werewolf, plus a house elf who wanted to see two of them dead – was something he had never seen for himself, not even when Lily and James had been alive and he still thought that things would turn out alright.
In a way, they have.
He returned to the piece of parchment that he was balancing on a book on his legs, and dunked the quill into the ink once more, determined to finish his letter before they went out.
I am sorry about the secrecy; I know I promised to drop it after the war. If it helps, the reason this time is much less sinister. I will try and come by soon, maybe then I can tell you more.
But I am happy, Dad. Very much so.
Love, Remus.
The smile was still on his face as he flicked his wand over the ink to dry it and slowly folded the parchment. He felt guilty about still being so vague after he had not contacted his father for months, but it was necessary.
And in one aspect at least he had not been lying. For the first time in many years, Remus Lupin was absolutely and completely happy with his life.
The Boy at the Movies
"And then when the Colonel didn't even notice he'd lost his own son..." Harry collapsed in a fit of giggles, almost spilling his hot chocolate.
"I thought the bear was best," Sirius said, grinning as he leant back in his chair, "He's got life figured out."
Remus raised an eyebrow. "Yes, you would think that," he said dryly, "having never worked a day in your life." But there was no real bite in his voice and he, too, was smiling.
It had been a great birthday – the best, actually, even though that wasn't actually saying much.
There had been presents – actual presents! For him! – he had been flying with Sirius – flying was simply the best, he had decided, even if he had felt rather guilty afterwards for demolishing half the drawing room – and then they had even gone out together.
It wasn't the first time Harry had left the house since that disastrous shopping trip a few months ago, but up until now he had only accompanied Remus a few short times to get groceries. Despite the pirate's absence he had still felt apprehensive about it, especially since the scarlet robed figures were still lurking in front of their house.
But a week ago they had suddenly been gone, and a look at Remus' paper had shown them the reason. Under the familiar picture that Harry thought didn't look like his godfather at all was the headline: BLACK SPOTTED IN CHICAGO – LEFT ENGLAND FOR GOOD?
It had to be a false report, obviously – there had been quite a few of those, after all – but apparently the ministry actually thought it plausible.
"Looks like Dumbledore tried to help us after all," Remus had said, smiling cautiously. Sirius had merely scoffed, obviously not believing the old wizard responsible. Harry didn't know who of them was right, but he didn't really care either way. What mattered was that the hunt for them had shifted, and that he could go outside again without fear. And, most importantly, with Sirius.
They had played fetch with Padfoot in a park, enjoying the warm summer air, and then Remus and Sirius – now human again, though of course in disguise – had taken him to a cinema. Harry had never been there, of course, though he had heard Dudley and his friends talk about it. As it turned out, it was even better than he had expected, especially when Sirius decided that on a birthday, popcorn for dinner was totally acceptable.
Now, though, happy as he was, he couldn't help but feel rather exhausted. He knew he would be sent do bed soon, but somehow he didn't want this day to end.
"It reminded me of you," he said without thinking, voicing an idea that had come into his head while watching the movie. "Baloo the bear, I mean. It was like he was you and Bagheera was Remus."
There was a short silence as Remus and Sirius exchanged a look, surprise on their faces. Then, Sirius burst into laughter, with Remus following shortly after.
"It was a bit, wasn't it Prongslet?" Sirius grinned, ruffling Harry's hair like he often did. "So the monkeys are the ministry? I do like that very much." He chuckled again.
Harry also grinned, but he suddenly didn't feel all that happy anymore. Because the more he thought about the story of Mowgli, the more uncomfortable the comparison got.
His parents had been killed as a child, and the monster who did it might very well come back once more. He knew he hadn't been supposed to listen in on Sirius' and Remus' talk with Dumbledore but he'd heard enough to catch something about a charm that would keep him safe – as long as he stayed with the Dursleys.
Was that what was going to happen should Voldemort return? Would Sirius and Remus, like Baloo and Bagheera, decide that they would have to send Harry back to the "humans"?
"I didn't like the ending, though," he could hear himself mutter.
Sirius frowned, pausing in his comparison between Kind Louie and Cornelius Fudge. "Why not? The bad guy lost, didn't he?"
"I think it was stupid he went back to the mu- humans," Harry said, fixating his almost empty mug. "He should have stayed with Baloo and Bagheera."
There was a small pause, and he had the feeling that Sirius and Remus were silently communicating. "Harry?" His godfather finally asked, sounding very serious. Harry kept staring at his mug, but when he felt a hand on his shoulder he finally raised his head, finding Sirius looking at him with unusual sincerity. "You know we would never send you away, don't you?"
Harry felt colour rise to his cheeks, embarrassed that they had seen through him so easily. "You might, though," he objected, not caring how whiny he sounded, "If...if you decide that it's safer for me. Or that I'm endangering you."
"No."
Harry was surprised at the vehemence with which the word was spoken, and the resolve blazing in the grey eyes. "But-"
"No," Sirius didn't let him finish. "We will never send you away. We will keep you safe. We might have to hide, we might have to run, but we will never abandon you. I swear it to you, Harry, on your parents' graves. You won't ever be alone again."
Harry felt strong arms wrap around him, and he clung to his godfather's shirt, confused but secretly glad about the fierceness of his words. Sirius appeared to be trembling.
"Thank you," Harry mumbled after a while, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden. "Thank you for taking me in. And you too, Remus."
The werewolf smiled at him from behind Sirius' back. "There is no need to thank us, Harry," he said gently, before rising to his feet. "But I'm afraid it's time for bed now. Even birthday boys need their sleep."
Reluctantly Harry let go of his godfather. "Okay. Will you read to me?"
Sirius grinned. "You bet on it, Prongslet. We'll be up in a minute." His voice sounded scratchier than normal, and there was suspicious moisture in his eyes.
Harry felt stupid for ever worrying about being sent back to the Dursleys. We're a family. You don't send away your family.
As strange as it might have seemed a few months ago, there were people who loved him. People who didn't just tolerate him, or took him in because they had been forced to or maybe even pitied him, but people who genuinely cared about him. Who wanted him to live with them. He smiled as he slowly walked up the stairs.
Knowing you were loved, he decided, was a thousand times better than riding a broom.
The End
