A/N: OK, so, the main characters in this are Remus and Harry in a father/son sort of way. There's also plenty of Sirius, James and Lily. But the first two chapters are sort of setting the scene. There will be all sorts of Remmy goodness past, present and future once we get all this out of the way. So, hang in there and hopefully it will be worth your patience! The original characters are necessary for getting the plot where it's going and for keeping you wondering exactly what is going on. (They're side characters, not Mary Sues.) Enjoy.
CHAPTER 2: Project Unfreeze the Potters
11 YEARS AFTER VOLDEMORT'S FAILED KILLING CURSE
Jane Weston looked over her scrolls for the millionth time. She was completely focused, zoning out the chaos around her. They had everything right, didn't they? Should that candle really be another foot to the left? Did the color matter? Could it be more ...
"Weston."
Jane jumped a bit in her seat and looked up to see Craig Simon leaning over the top of the divider that wasn't quiet tall enough for her to call a cubicle. Behind Craig she could see wizards and witches running back and forth carrying stacks of scrolls and ingredients for potions.
"It's the big day, sport. You ought to get ready," Craig smiled, walking around into her workspace and putting a hand on her shoulder. Craig was her boss, head researcher for the Ministry of Magic's main library. He reminded her of a jolly, overenthusiastic Quidditch coach she'd had as a child.
"I am getting ready," Jane said, waving the scrolls in her hand.
"Oh, not that again. Weston, you've checked the formulas a billion times. Just accept that you're a genius and you've got it figured out. What I meant was that you should get up and find a good spot to watch the show," Craig smiled and threw her a thumbs up.
"It's not a show! We could, we could… we could blow the parents of the Boy Who Lived to smithereens, or they could get sucked into a worm hole, or we might only unfreeze half of them or, or.."
"Weston. Please. Every witch and wizard in the ministry with half a brain has consulted on this, including me. And you've got it right. Now I expect to see you over by the storage garage in 5 minutes. And if you're late, it better be because you finally decided to eat something, not because you're still glued to these scrolls," Craig shook his head and left for the garage.
Deep breaths. This was the day. This was the day when they'd test her theory for unfreezing Lily and James Potter. This project had been all Jane worked on for the last 9 months. As for frozen Potters, well, that had been part of life for 11 years. They even had an acronym, PUFP: Project Unfreeze the Potters.
******************
11 YEARS AGO
After trying every counter curse in the book, the Ministry of Magic wasn't quite sure what to do with the Potters.
The ministry wizards working on the project seemed to be getting a little bit desperate after two months with no results, and that desperation was causing problems. Just the other day, Bradley McKinney had nearly burned down the ministry offices, and the wizards in the Department of Mysteries had been covered in orange spots for three days after Jamie Strayer's latest experimental treatment.
The minister had promised that the Potters would be back on the move in no time, and the entire ministry was feeling the pressure as they ran out of options. It was getting kind of embarrassing.
And then there was the awful incident with that Dursley man.
At first the Potters had been taken to St. Mungo's. Harry sat in a crib in the hospital room watching the doctors and nurses circling the beds where his stiff-limbed parents had been set. He blew raspberries, trying to get a little attention. Then he tried crying, and then he settled for pouting. He wanted his mom and his dad and his uncles He didn't like this place at all.
Finally, the head nurse noticed the child was being neglected, scolding the younger nurses. They were clearly nervous about this boy who had defeated Voldemort. Maybe they were afraid of a child that powerful, maybe they didn't think they were worthy to care for him or maybe they just didn't want to be the nurse who made the Boy Who Lived cry.
"Hells bells, you, you and you are officially on baby watch. Get your butts out of here and find that child some milk."
They eventually realized the situation was going to be more permanent than they had hoped. It was decided that the Potters should be transferred to the Department of Mysteries and Harry would go live with his aunt, upon Dumbledore's insistence that he live with a blood relative.
Petunia Dursley quietly shuffled into St. Mungo's lobby with Vernon grumbling as he trudged along behind her.
His gaze swept around the room, from the girl burping a rainbow of soap bubbles to the old man who seemed to be bent into a pretzel.
"Oh, heck no. We're not bringing one of these freaks home with us," Vernon spat.
The med-witch behind the counter smiled understandingly, "It always is a madhouse on Saturdays. But I'm sure the Boy Who Lived won't be any trouble at all. Please follow Anita up to Ward 6."
Vernon rolled his eyes and waddled after Anita, trying to avoid a rapidly spreading puddle of fizzing yellow goo on the floor.
"It will be fine Vernon. It will be fine, right? Oh, this is so like Lily to do something like this to me," Petunia fretted.
"Don't worry there won't be any magic in my house," he bellowed.
Anita frowned. Surely, these weren't the people taking home the Boy Who Lived? Hadn't someone said they had their own little boy? They had parenting skills, didn't they?
They were out of breath by the time they reached Ward 6, since Vernon wanted to take the stairs instead of riding the levitation rail up. ("Over my dead body! Can't be safe. There aren't any supports.")
By the time they arrived at the right door. Anita was considering ways to save Harry from this horrid couple, but her thoughts were cut short when Dumbledore and Millicent Bagnold, minister of magic, stepped into the hall. (A/N: I'm pretty sure Millicent Bagnold was the minister during this time period.)
"Ah, Petunia, Vernon, lovely to see you," Dumbledore reached out to shake their hands, but neither moved to return the gesture.
"Where's the brat and those two morons?" Vernon scowled.
"Vernon, please. Don't be like that. Were are they?" Petunia spoke up in a mousy whisper, trying to peer into the room.
"Ah, yes, well, we can get to the paperwork in a moment. Of course, you'd want to see them safe first. It might be a bit of a shock, but they seem to be quite all right," Bagnold rambled stepping aside.
They all filed inside and stopped. There was Lily, terror frozen in her eyes. A doctor was leaning over her chanting in Latin with a purple glow seeping from his wand and swirling about the room like a storm cloud.
He paused and looked up when he noticed the new presence, "Oh, why hullo! We're giving the flexiderm spell a try this round."
Petunia screeched and fainted. Vernon made no move to catch her as he just stood spluttering.
"Brilliant work, Glen. As you can see we're sparing no expense for your…Is your wife quite all right?" Bagnold looked at the prone woman on the floor. "Ah, well, an understandable shock. Seeing a loved one like that. Maybe we should do the paperwork first, after all?"
And that is when Vernon Dursley socked the Minister of Magic right in the face.
Dumbledore tried to reason with the man, but Vernon told them in no uncertain terms that he'd be packing Harry in a box and shipping him to China if they ever tried to send the little freak to his quiet suburban home.
The couple had stormed out of the hospital, aurors subtly following for protection. Harry had to be with blood family and so Dumbledore would just have to wait until they calmed down to try again.
But those hopes would be destroyed when the Daily Prophet turned up the next day.
It turned out it wasn't just aurors following the Dursleys home. Death Eaters had been waiting at the hospital ready for a bit of revenge against the family that ended their reign. It was never clear who in the ministry tipped off Voldemort's followers. But the muggle news was reporting a freak tornado that has tidily decimated an entire suburban subdivision, several people wearing funny robes and "auror" badges were reported among the dead.
Dumbledore wished he'd had the foresight to take Harry straight to the Dursleys the night of Voldemort's defeat. Of course, there had been no way to know the Potters would be so difficult to unfreeze, but there was this nagging feeling in the back of his mind. The Dursleys would be alive and Harry would be safely with them if he'd spirited the boy away before the ministry got involved. The Death Eaters would have never found them and the blood magic would have been in place for protection.
Now what to do with the boy?
*******************
But Harry Potter was a whole different matter, Jane sighed. Today was about unfreezing Lily and James Potter.
Years after everyone had given up and the Potters had been tagged and shelved in the storage garage, Jane had had an epiphany.
Her muggle husband once again had been packing lunches in those ridiculous muggle "zipper-lock bags" or whatever they were called. Granted, the financial firm where he worked didn't have house elves, but the idea that sandwiches would stay fresher if you wrapped them in some non-magical film made out of petroleum products seemed ludicrous. They were having another argument about it when her husband had said something brilliant.
"Think of it as a magic bag that keeps all the germs and stuff out so that the sandwich doesn't age. The sandwich has its own little comfy world completely separate from our own," he'd explained, rubbing his temple as he realized how stupid that sounded.
But his wife wasn't glaring anymore. Her eyes had gone wide, mouth slightly open. Then she rushed for the fireplace, snatching a handful of floo powder.
"Uh, darling?" he asked.
"Sandwiches! The Potters are sandwiches in zipper-lock-thing bags!"
So, it had turned out to be a bit more complicated, but it was all the inspiration the young ministry librarian needed.
What she meant was that the Potters did not age or move because they were in a world completely separate, although visible, from this one. The spells didn't work because Lily and James weren't frozen. They weren't even there, well, not really.
Voldemort had created "pocket dimensions," where time moved so much slower that not even a second had passed. He was essentially saving them in a Ziploc bag so he could torture them for information later.
It was an advanced and dangerous type of magic, but it was the sort of thing that during Merlin's era had kept the Isle of Avalon hidden in mist, traveling through time at its own pace.
Nine months ago it was a theory, but now they were almost positive. The ministry had scoured every book on the subject, and today they'd test their plans to bring the Potters back into this dimension.
Jane glanced at her clock, which read "almost late," and decided it was time to head over to storage. She grabbed a scone from a box of pastries that a coworker had brought in for the big day. She wasn't particularly hungry, but it ought to appease Craig.
The normally dark, dank storage garage was aglow with candles and abuzz with a crowd of excited wizards. The arrays had been drawn out, a cauldron was bubbling and the Potters had been levitated to the center of the room.
"OK folks, today's the day. We're going to start in a second. Oh, hey Jane! There's the lady who made this all happen," a tall wizard from the Division for Time-Space Regulation was giving a little speech at the front of the crowd. Jane gave a little wave. She saw Craig and some colleagues waving off to the side and made her way over to them.
"Anyway, umm, where was I?" the wizard continued. "Ah, yes, the big day for PUFP, so we're going to begin. Everybody please stand back behind the markers. OK, Scott, let's get this thing rolling."
A single drop of the shimmering silver potion was levitated from the cauldron into the center of the array, where it then dropped. The liquid landed directly on the wick of a candle, snuffing it out with a little woosh and a puff of blue smoke. The air seemed to pause and a violent shockwave burst outward. It smelled oddly like lemons.
Jane stared at the two bodies. She had positioned herself so that she could see right into Lily's eyes. It was as though the air around them was bending and shifting in a way she should couldn't describe, couldn't comprehend. She leaned into the sensation until her eyes began to hurt and she had to look away.
Suddenly the pressure from the shockwave rolled back with a rattle and the room was silent for a moment.
"Expelliarmus!"
And suddenly Jane found herself thrown back, her head hitting something hard. Jane blinked, and all hell broke loose.
******
Lily blinked. She had just gone to disarm Voldemort, but instead she watched a witch she'd never seen before go flying back into a shelf. She glanced behind herself, no Harry.
"Lily? Lily? What's going on? Where's Harry? How'd we get here? Is this…" James trailed off, recognizing the ministry storage shed. He and Sirius had gotten into trouble on more than one occasion for "borrowing" interesting looking artifacts off the shelves.
It was a familiar place, but James' heart was still beating like mad. He hadn't apparated, and why on earth would Voldemort banish them to a storage shed full of…cheering wizards?
"Well, I'll be. It worked. We probably should have noticed Ms. Potter was mid-incantation, but I'm sure Weston will be fine. Huh."
A tall wizard was staring at the two with a look somewhere between pride and scientific curiosity.
What on earth was going on? James felt like he might hyperventilate, especially when he saw his wife frantically looking around whispering, "Harry? Harry, sweetie? Harry?"
Auror training kicked into gear.
"OK. Hold it. Basic questions, sir. Who are you? How did we get here? Where is our boy, Harry?" James asked, wrapping an arm around Lily.
"Ah, yes of course. I'm Steve Winkle. I run the Division for Time-Space Regulation. I think we bumped into each other in the hall once a decade ago, but, anyway, you've been frozen in another dimension, and, uh, well. Gee. We really should have put some thought into what to do with you once you were unfrozen. Ah, but, 11 years, time-space, frozen, He Who Must Not Be Named, yeah. We fixed it though. Harry Potter is fine, your son that is. Umm, I think maybe we should find someone better to fill you in…"
"Dumbledore, where is Dumbledore?" James asked, looking at the clearly deranged wizard. Space? Time? Say what?
"Ah, excellent suggestion, Dumbledore. I'm just going to, uh, go tell the minister of magic you've been unfrozen, and we'll get right to finding Dumbledore. Huh, I really wasn't sure it would work," Steve smiled, quickly striding through the crowd and out of the room.
Definitely, deranged.
******
"Kingsley!"
"Yeah, Evers?"
"The bloody idiots down in research and time-space regulation just unfroze the Potters."
"Eh? That's great. Are they OK?" Kingsley Shacklebolt stood up from his desk, concerned and interested. The Potters had been good friends, although the days of the Order seemed like another lifetime.
"Not sure. Nobody said they weren't fine, so I suppose they must be all right," Evers speculated. "But the real trouble is, well, no one thought it would work. The guys in research have been saying they're on the verge of successful PUFP for 11 years. Nobody took them seriously, so they went and woke them up, and the folks from internal affairs weren't even there. It's pandemonium, worse than the time Chase dropped that bag of pixie dust in the lift. Anyway, you used to work with James, so we need you down there."
Kingsley hesitated a moment before following Evers to the lift. This was odd and very sudden. Should they be in more of a hurry? The lift dinged open. It was packed, but they squeezed in. Everyone seemed to be going to the storage level. After a few more stops they all piled out and Kingsley noted that even Minister Cornelius Fudge had been in there.
"Ah, Kingsley, good man. We need as many familiar faces as we can get. Any idea where Dumbledore has gotten off to?" the minister asked.
"He's off on summer holiday somewhere, away from the castle last I heard from Lupin," Kingsley explained.
After Voldemort's disappearance and the crackdown on dark magic and creatures, the Order had managed to get Kingsley assigned as Remus' caseworker for his "furry little problem," as the Marauders used to call it.
Of course, Remus Lupin was a special case, but Kingsley still checked in regularly for a good cup of tea if nothing else.
They suddenly were at the end of the hall stuck behind a crowd.
"Move it folks, minister coming through," Evers hollered, clearing them a path.
There, in that room, stood James and Lily Potter moving. If that wasn't a sight to behold. Fudge walked ahead.
"Mr. and Mrs. Potter, umm, good to have you back with us. My apologies for not being here in person earlier. Anyway, I'm sure you have lots of questions," the minister began awkwardly.
James seemed a little confused still, but he looked the minister up and down.
"Hello, sir," James replied. "I'm sorry for all the trouble. This fellow was saying something about time travel? And where's Harry? Voldemort was just here a moment ago."
"Ah, Voldemort has been dead 11 years. It's not time travel. You've been sort of, well, frozen, if you will. Harry is fine. We have him well cared for by a blood relative to keep up that blood magic Dumbledore was so adamant about," Fudge explained, raising more questions than answers.
"No, you see, Voldemort was here a moment ago," James said as though talking to someone a bit slow.
"Hey, auror, err Kingsley, come over here. You look old," Fudge shoved Kingsley in front of the couple.
"Bloody hell, Kingsley, but this can't be right. What happened to your afro? And, dude, he's right. You do look older. Is this a joke?" James asked.
"It could be a spell," Lily cut in, scrutinizing the crowd and picking out other familiar faces that just seemed old. "I can't believe it. James, could it be real?"
"Hey, listen, don't worry. We'll get Dumbledore to explain everything better," Kingsley said, and Fudge huffed. "Voldemort is dead. You guys seem fine. Harry is safe. And we've got Black off in Azkaban where he can never hurt a soul again."
"Wait, what? Sirius is in Azkaban? What happened?" Lily gasped, as James looked murderous at the thought of his best friend behind bars.
"He was your secret keeper. Naturally, we made sure the traitor got what he deserved," Fudge said with pride.
"WHAT!?! Sirius was NOT our secret keeper," James roared. "Wait, it's seriously been 11 years? You've had him in prison all this time? What the hell?"
Silence.
"Umm, h-h-he wasn't your secret keeper? But, Sirius Black is a confirmed madman and killer. He murdered a crowd of muggles and all that was left of Peter Pettigrew was a finger," Fudge stuttered.
"Didn't you give him a trial? What the heck kind of crappy future is this?" James asked. "Peter was our secret keeper you sod, err, I mean, sir."
"Peter?"
"Yeah, Peter."
"Oh…oh, this is bad. He still shouldn't have killed the muggles… Are you sure Pettigrew was the secret keeper?" Fudge tried again.
"He was there with Voldemort cowering like a rat," James said, the pain and drama of discovering his friend's betrayal was still fresh for him even though it technically happened 11 years ago.
"Ah, well, could they have been in league together?" Fudge asked.
"Did you even bother with veritaserum?" Lily asked.
"Good point. Good point. Let's go give that a try now, shall we," Fudge said, miffed that what should have been a wonderful day was turning out to be rather bothersome.
*******
Drip. Drip.
Sirius Black rocked back and forth clutching his knees to his chest. The dementor leaned against the bars for a moment longer. All Sirius could see was James Potter pointing at him and yelling "traitor" again and again. Sirius began to weep a little. It was his fault, all his fault. Why had he insisted on them having that no good rat as a secret keeper? His loathing for Peter had almost grown as much as his hatred for himself over these -- he turned to the wall counting the marks he'd etched – over these 11 years.
The dementor pulled away, moving on to torment someone else, but the bone-chilling cold stayed. It never really left anymore. Sirius barely had the heart left to growl a little at the dementor's retreating back, if dementors had backs. He didn't like dementors very much. He didn't like much of anything these days.
His senses slowly came back. It was cold and he could smell that it must be raining outside, although he hadn't seen rain or the outside in ages.
Drip. Drip.
Someone screamed down the hall, and it was almost welcome because at least it disturbed the silence. Sirius supposed he could talk to himself to provide some sound, but he didn't want to give the dementors the satisfaction of his going completely off the deep end, not that he was sure dementors could feel satisfaction. He didn't much like dementors. Oh, dear, his thoughts were going in circles again. That tended to happen when there'd been nothing new to ponder in your life for 11 years other than the occasional scream.
Drip. Drip.
Stupid water dripping down the stone.
Drip. Drip.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap tap tap.
Sirius jerked up. Were those footsteps? A new prisoner? There were never new prisoners down here. Everyone in this wing served for life, and if someone new was arriving, it meant someone else must have died to free up a cell.
Tap tap, tap, tap. "Yes, he's right down this way. Are you sure about this?"
Definitely a person, and one bold or cracked enough to speak to the dementors.
"Yes, yes. Let's just get this done with."
That was a second person. Two people. That was three whole voices in one day. The new prisoner, the second new voice and that scream earlier.
The crowd of footsteps drew closer, and Sirius stood up, straightening his shirt. Remus would have given him a lecture for looking like such a mess. Sirius's chest tightened at the thought of his former friend and he almost laughed at himself as he walked over to grip the bars.
The group was now in sight and he backed away somewhat nervous.
"There he is! OK, let the dementors go in first. Then Monroe will cast the tranquillizing spell, and Snell will use the veritaserum."
That was definitely not something a new prisoner would say, Sirius mused. But he backed further away as he felt the dementors approach, and then a spell knocked him back onto his rear and a wave of wooziness swept over him.
Someone was cupping his chin and forcing a warm liquid down his throat. Huh, it really was veritaserum. Why would they be giving him that? He tried to clear the fog from his mind. He looked up and would have sworn he saw James. That sent him into a round of embarrassing sobs.
"Err, OK, is he ready?"
"He should be."
"Fine then, are you Sirius Black?"
His mouth moved on its own, "Yes."
"Are you or have you ever been a Death Eater?"
"No, scum the lot of them."
"Were you Lily and James Potter's secret keeper?"
Here he started shaking.
"Hey, Sirius, it's all right man. Just answer. They're going to let you out."
That definitely sounded like James. Sirius looked up again. It really looked like James, too, and that looked like Lily. But it couldn't be them. They looked as though they hadn't aged a day. What kind of sick game was this?
"Were you Lily and James Potter's secret keeper?"
"No."
There was a flurry of whispers.
"Did you in any way betray the Potters to Voldemort?"
"Yes."
"Hey wait! It's not working. Something is wrong with your potion. He wouldn't. Sirius, tell them you wouldn't," the James-like figure shouted. Sirius' heart was breaking. Sodding dementors. This was worse than the usual nightmares. He was going to have to say what he had done right in front of James.
"Calm down Mr. Potter. Now then, Mr. Black, in what way did you betray the Potters?"
Sirius moaned and shook with a sob, "I t-t-told them to...I'm such an idiot. I told them to pick Peter. It's all my fault. I thought it was clever and that no one would ever think it was Peter. I played right into Voldemort's hand. Bloody traitor. Wish I'd killed the rat. Hah! A rat. Bloody obvious. Should have seen it coming. It's my fault. All my fault. All my fault. All my fault."
"Oh, Sirius," that sounded like Lily.
There was an inhale of breath from his interrogator.
"Sirius Black, did you intend any harm to the Potters when you suggested Mr. Pettigrew as a secret keeper?"
"No, oh God, no," Sirius whispered.
"Have you ever done anything else to harm them or to support Lord Voldemort?"
"No," he spat.
"Did you kill those muggles the day after the attack on the Potters?
"No," Sirius was growing tired and his brain grew fuzzier.
"Who killed them?"
"Peter."
"And then you killed Pettigrew?"
"No, I meant to. He turned into a rat and scampered off."
There was more whispering.
"Pettigrew is an animagi?"
"Yeah."
"Damn."
A few minutes later someone was helping him back to his feet. The visitors were leaving…and he was leaving with them? He was outside his cell?
"Sirius Black, you are a free man...and, err, you have our greatest apologies, obviously it was the logical thing for us to do at the time. Terrible the way it turned out, but, well, I'm sure you understand old chap," Fudge patted the semi-lucid man on the shoulder.
*******
After a hot shower, a medical exam and a potion to clear up his mind, Sirius was looking much better, which is to say he looked terrible, just no longer horrifically terrible.
Somehow Lily and James were here, which made no sense whatsoever, but he wasn't going to complain. Everyone kept saying that Dumbledore would explain everything.
James kept shooting him sympathetic looks and patting him on the shoulder. Lily had lent him a hair tie and had tried to remark that he looked much better with the scraggily hair out of his face. Black raised an eyebrow. Humph. Either he had finally snapped, the dementors had lost their edge or this was a freaking awesome day.
Sirius smiled, although he caught his reflection in a window and noted that the smile looked a tad creepy on that hollow face. How could Lily and James look exactly the same when he couldn't even recognize himself?
Kingsley smiled back at the Potters and Black, still marveling that they were here. It was a lovely, sunny day, and they'd come to see the one man who would know where Dumbledore might be at the moment. And they needed Dumbledore to sort out the whole business of two newly unfrozen, 21-year-old Potters and one newly proven innocent, 32-year-old Black.
So here they were on the brick path leading up to a cozy little cottage in a row of equally quaint houses.
Kingsley turned back to the door as he heard the sound of footsteps. A second later there was the jingle of locks being magicked open.
"Sorry, Kingsley, give me just a second," a muffled voice came from the other side of the door.
The auror froze. Oh, no.
Black raised and eyebrow at Kingsley's sudden horror.
"Sorry, sorry, I heard you calling, and I'm trying to get it open, but dad's just got too many darn locks on the door. Paranoid much?"
Oh no, no, no, no, no. The Potters had been unfrozen for less than 5 hours. Kingsley had found out 3 hours ago, and in his rush to find Dumbledore he had put them all into the most awkward situation possible. Of course, it was summer holidays, that was the whole reason why Dumbledore was away and why the werewolf should be here at home instead of Hogwarts.
Click. And the door opened.
"There we go. Dad's actually not home right now, but you can step in…Oh, wow, is that…are they…uh, Kingsley?"
The door had opened to reveal an 11 year-old boy with messy black hair and startling green eyes.
Kingsley finally found his tongue.
"Oh shit."
***************
PREVIEW FOR NEXT CHAPTER
11 YEARS AGO
Remus awoke facing a pale blue curtain.
"Hello, Remus," Dumbledore's voice came from the other direction and the werewolf flopped his head around to stare at the leader of the Order of the Phoenix.
"Whr mm eh.." Remus asked weakly.
"Ah, where are you? St. Mungo's, I'm afraid. You were in rather bad shape when we found you, but your message arrived just in time. A lot of lives were saved because of you," Dumbledore explained.
"Ss tru?" Remus tried again to speak.
"I'm sorry, Remus? What was that?" Dumbledore asked with a kind smile.
"Is," Remus took a deep shuddering breath. "Is it true? V-voldmrt…dead?.." Remus broke into coughs.
"Ah, yes, well, I'm not quite sure about dead, but he is gone, that is certain. And it seems that there will be a brighter future," Dumbledore offered.
Remus felt peaceful for once and smiled back. This was wonderful news. Maybe he wouldn't have to go back to the pack. He wonderer how much of the pack was even still alive after last night, at least, he thought it was last night.
"How long have I been out?" he asked, getting his voice back more and more.
"Three weeks. Gave Madam Pomfrey quite a scare. She came over to look after you personally. You always were her favorite student. I feel somewhat bad for the St. Mungo's nurses. Madam Pomfrey was quite the slave driver. I doubt a werewolf has ever been treated so well at St. Mungo's before," Dumbledore paused and frowned. "How much exactly had you heard about Voldemort's demise Remus?"
"Not much, Greyback was just furious," Remus said.
"Ah," the headmaster hesitated again. "What about the Potters?"
Remus shot up in bed. And then fell back into the mattress with a pained moan. He latched his hand onto Dumbledore's wrist. His eyes stared pleadingly up into Dumbledore's.
"What about them?"
"It seems Voldemort was trying to attack them when he was defeated. He has used some sort variation of a petrification spell on Lily and James," Dumbledore explained. "The ministry is attempting to unfreeze them. They actually just were moved out of the hospital on Tuesday."
Remus had no idea what day of the week it was, but it didn't matter.
"What about Harry? Why haven't you mentioned Harry?" Remus asked.
"Harry is quite fine, although that's a matter we need to discuss," the older wizard said.
"Is Sirius looking after him?" Remus paused. "Dear God, did Sirius… is he the traitor?"
"I'm afraid so," Dumbledore sighed as Remus began to tremble. He was a strong young man, but the headmaster worried that he was burdening the werewolf with too much.
"I'm sorry to tell you that he killed Mr. Pettigrew before the authorities were able to catch him. He's in Azkaban now."
Remus' trembling stopped, "He wasn't under the Imperius curse?"
"I'm afraid not."
Remus sat quiet for a long while.
"Then who is looking after Harry?"
"That, Remus, is something you and I need to discuss."
******************
A/N: Like I said, Remus, Remus and more Remus next chapter.
Also, Remus is not a blood relative of James or Lily. So, why would Harry be able to live with him? This will be explained later in the story.
I hope you're enjoying this. Please read and review.
