Author's Note: Yes, I feel major guilt. But why does everyone keep thinking I've abandoned this? Sorry it took so long.


Guardians

Vernon Dursley was not in a good mood. A madman was after his nephew; his wife was on the edge of a panic attack; and, to add insult to injury, Remus had informed him that there was no way for Vernon or Petunia to protect their boys.

"They're safest where they are. Hogwarts has all sorts of wards in place to protect the students."

"There has to be something we can do!" Petunia wrung her hands desperately.

"I'm sorry, Petunia, but all we really can do is hope the Aurors catch Black quickly."

Vernon scowled at the memory and hit the punching bag again. He'd made the basement into something of a gym eight years ago, after the family doctor informed him that he was 'a heart attack waiting to happen.' He wasn't exactly buff, but he wasn't overweight anymore either. Besides, regular workouts let his mind wander while his body was on autopilot.

He wasn't about to let either of his boys get hurt. There had to be a way to help.


Werewolf pack instincts are something to be marvelled at. Protect the pack from any danger. Defend the pack at all costs. Most importantly, never allow harm to reach the cubs.

Remus' pack instincts were screaming at him to go to Hogwarts, just in case his cubs needed him. Harry had always been part of the pack, and although Remus couldn't quite pinpoint when, sometime over the past ten years he had adopted Dudley, Petunia and Vernon into his pack as well.

It was only logical that Sirius would be headed for Hogwarts. Even if Harry were safe in the dungeons, Dudley would still be in danger up in the Gryffindor Tower. How could he protect his cubs? What was he going to do?

Sirius had been a Marauder; he knew Hogwarts' secret passages like the back of his hand. Unless the boys discovered some place the Marauders hadn't – highly unlikely, given they'd only been there four months against the Marauders' seven years, though not actually impossible – they'd be sitting ducks.

Cherry nuzzled Remus' leg. He stroked the dog's head affectionately, feeling his resolve strengthen. He couldn't do this alone.

"C'mon, girl. Let's go talk to the Dursleys."


"You realize, of course, that the boys aren't going to take this lying down," said Vernon slowly. "I wouldn't put it past them to try sneaking away from us. No kid wants an adult following him around all the time, if it is for his own protection."

"You've known from the beginning that parenthood isn't a popularity contest," Petunia snapped. "It's for their own safety, and right now that takes precedence over their happiness or privacy or whatever else."

"You'll help, then?" asked Remus.

"You have to ask?"


"Ow." Dudley glared at the book he had just opened, for all the world as though it were the fault of Amazing Achievements of Modern Magic that he now sported a deep paper cut. Tearing a corner from the roll of parchment he'd been taking notes on and wandlessly Transfiguring it into a band-aid, he scanned the index of the heavy tome. With a sigh, he added another title to his list of "Books That Do Not Mention The Philosopher's Stone."

"Are you sure this is even a real thing?" he asked Harry.

"Not for certain," his cousin admitted.

Oh, just peachy. "So then why am I giving up the rest of my holiday break to find a book about something you aren't even sure exists?"

"No idea."

"It might help if I knew why you wanted to know about this rock thing."

Harry allowed himself a half snigger. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, Dudley."

"Try me."

Harry's bright eyes darkened. "Well … Ever since I can remember, I've had these dreams …"

Dudley stared at Harry incredulously. When his cousin finished, he had no response, except: "No wonder you never told anyone. That is one of the craziest things I've ever heard – including that time when you told Uncle Remus that the reason we had filled the chimney with peanut butter was because there was a Boggart hiding in it that had the hiccups."

Harry forced a smile. "He did look funny with peanut butter all over him, didn't he?"


Three tables away, next to the windows, Sandy petted Gloria with one hand and wrote with the other, as the owl dutifully awaited a reply to the message she'd just delivered.

Dad,

Congratulate Mum on the Howler for me. It arrived in the middle of breakfast. Dumbledore's expression was priceless. Absolute and total shock. If the eggs hadn't already been fried, they probably could've been on his face. I wish I'd had a camera.

Things are a little tense here, but not very. The teachers are brushing everyone's concerns away with the latest mantra: 'Hogwarts is the safest place in magical Britain'. Never mind that a troll's already gotten in this year … I told you about that in my last letter, remember? I owe Harry big time for showing up when de did. That troll was even scarier than Uncle Severus when his temper blows – which hasn't happened in class yet, thank Salazar.

Of course I'll keep an eye out for Harry – right now I'm helping him research defensive wards. What are friends for?

I'd better wrap this up. I'm not sure how Madame Pince feels about owls in the library. Give my love to everyone.

Sandra

PS: Good move. Knight to E7.

Draco glanced up as she folded the letter and sent the scopes owl on its way. "Any big news?"

"Not from home. Try the Daily Prophet."

Draco chuckled. Sandy was always closed-mouthed about her family. He'd met her parents a couple of times, and he knew that Professor Snape was her uncle on her mum's side, but on her dad's side he knew about as much as he did about ostrich farming.

In his own family it was the opposite. His father's lectures gave him a thorough, almost blow-by-blow understanding of Malfoy family history. His mother never said much about her family. He knew she had a sister and a cousin – or maybe there were more, but she always cut herself off when any other relative was mentioned in passing.

This was all irrelevant, Draco informed himself. Promptly dismissing all thought of family, be it what little he knew of Sandy's or what his own would do to him if they knew what he was up too, Draco returned to A Beginner's Guide to Protective Wards.


Uncaring, or maybe just unaware, of his dismissal from his second-cousin's mind, Regulus Black finished the silencing spells on the drapes over his mother's portrait. More than once he had wondered if she perhaps carried Banshee blood – it wasn't uncommon in the early days of magic for wizards to intermarry with other magical beings. These spells should keep her from disturbing the rest Sirius so desperately needed. By the same token, not being able to hear her sons and elf arguing ought to give Walburga some peace.

Sirius was not pleased to be back in Grimmauld Place. The only things that had kept him from storming out the door were the facts that Regulus had locked the door, Sirius didn't have a wand, and anyway, Sirius couldn't stand up yet. Regulus had so far managed to keep his brother under control by asking, "Sirius, would you really prefer to be back in Azkaban? Because I can send you back if you really want to go."

Not that he would. He'd put himself in a tough position to get Sirius out of Azkaban, and there was no chance of him throwing his brother back into Hell just because Sirius didn't like his new location any more.

Regulus wondered what had possessed him to do this now, of all times. It wasn't that rubbish about sentences he'd told Sirius in the cell, though that was part of it. How was he supposed to keep Dumbledore from tricking Harry Potter into fighting the Dark Lord to protect a fake Philosopher's Stone, when he couldn't even fire-flash to Hogwarts without risking his brother's life?

"Blood traitor should not be in mistress' house," Kreacher muttered resentfully, appearing at Regulus' elbow with lunch in hand. "Master Regulus should do as blood traitor wishes and throw him out. Kreacher's mistress will not be pleased. Kreacher's mistress's portrait should not be silenced."

"Thank you for bringing me lunch, Kreacher. And do not remove the enchantments on these curtains." Regulus sighed as the elf vanished. Kreacher had been following his orders to the letter, but still managed to get around them.

Since he couldn't speak while inside of it, Kreacher had stood on the threshold of Sirius' room yelling insults until Regulus had ordered him to be quiet, and now had a habit of whispering insults from the doorway instead. Regulus was debating whether he should order Kreacher to stop talking entirely, or just tell the elf to stay off the floor of the house that Sirius was staying on.

Regulus desperately wished that his father hadn't been quite so paranoid – a portrait of Orion would have been useful for maintaining calm. Orion had been a very practical, no-nonsense kind of man. He'd known how to keep control of his elf's instability, his firstborn's attitude, Regulus' eccentricities, and even Walburga's temper.

"How did you do it?" With no portrait to ask, Regulus instead addressed his question to the ceiling.

As expected, there was no answer.


Headmaster,

In light of Sirius Black's escape, I will be arriving at Hogwarts to act as a bodyguard of sorts to Harry Potter, and his cousin Dudley to a lesser extant.

The Dursleys' are on my side in this matter, and if you will not allow it, Harry and Dudley will both be removed from Hogwarts and placed somewhere where I will be allowed to protect them.

Respectfully,

Remus Lupin


Author's Note: Again, BIG STRONG LOUD POWERFUL APOLOGIES that I took this long to update.