Yay, finished another one. Sorry, Dumbledore fans.

Albus Dumbledore was having a good day. The ministry had finalized the return of his honours and his seat as Supreme Mugwump. Fudge had been forced to acknowledge Voldemort's return and the Daily Profit had been forced to print a retraction. Wizengamot was considering a vote of no confidence to remove the current minister and Harry Potter had finally stopped whining about being removed from his relatives' house. Life was good.

Come to think of it, Potter had not even written his friends all summer. He had been writing the Order every three days as agreed but had otherwise been quiet all summer, probably depressed. Oh well, he would snap out of it in time for the new semester. The boy's godfather was an acceptable loss. Guilt was the best way to keep a Potter humble. Some time at his deceased dog-father's abode would be just the thing to ensure that. The boy was so much like his parents, his father's recklessness and laziness combined with his mother's blind loyalty. So easy to manipulate, a little cultivated hostility between him and the spy and a few nudges toward the right sort of friends, and the boy danced like a puppet on a string.

It would be Harry's birthday the next day. Albus supposed it was time to retrieve the boy from his tormentors. He would have to floo the werewolf. Unfortunately, Remus had begun to doubt his leadership. The ungrateful mutt, how many headmasters would welcome a werewolf into a school full of children? The werewolf was entirely too protective of the last surviving member of his pack. He would have to be separated from the boy. Perhaps with some luck the mongrel would be put out of his misery at the final battle. Poor, pitiful creature. It was saddening to see the man watch his pack fall, one-by-one. He would allow the wolf one last birthday with his cub before finding some mission to keep the werewolf otherwise occupied. He could not allow anyone else to have too much influence over the boy.

After helping himself to one last lemon-drop Albus activated the floo.

Remus nearly splinched himself when he apparated to number twelve Grimmauld Place. He slammed through the front door, ignoring the howling elves and portrait, and stormed into the kitchen. "Albus, he's missing."

There was an instant uproar. The entire Order was present and nearly all were attempting to talk at once. Once the pandemonium died down, Dumbledore demanded that Remus explain himself.

"He wasn't there, nor has he set foot in the house for nearly a month. There was no sign of a struggle and all of his things were missing. His aunt said that the family went out on their son's birthday and when they returned home Harry was gone. Wouldn't we have known if any magic was used in the area?"

"Yes, Remus, we would have," Dumbledore sighed.

"Who was on guard duty that day?" Kingsley asked.

"There wasn't one. We are stretched rather thin at the moment so I have only set guard duty at night after the days Harry is not scheduled to write," the headmaster replied.

"You left my cub alone with those people without so much as a guard?" Remus was beginning to growl.

Tonks spoke up, "Haven't the letters still been coming every three days?"

"Of course, and I have not seen any abnormalities in his writing," the headmaster defended, "Though, I did find it strange that he never once asked to leave as he had the previous summer. I assumed that he and his family had learned to tolerate each other at last and he was enjoying a quiet summer to heal after the loss of his beloved godfather."

That was exactly the wrong thing to say. The werewolf's eyes glowed amber and he growled his next words through clenched teeth. "You mean to tell me that you overlooked a fact that could have led us to discover Harry's disappearance weeks ago because you are still caught in the fairy-tale that Harry and his relatives will learn to love each other. You bastard, right now my cub could be suffering at the hands of deatheaters and being forced to write those letters, all because you can't be bothered to remove your head from your own arse."

"Remus," was Mrs. Weasley's shocked reprisal.

Snape scoffed, "I would certainly have heard if the dark lord had managed to capture the boy. Such colossal news is nigh impossible to keep quiet. There would have been whispers at the very least. I find it more likely that your golden boy has simply cut and run, and left the wizarding world to its fate."

Remus was surprised to find his wand in his hand and held to Snape's throat. The spy simply arched an eye-brow and waited to see what the werewolf would do next. Remus put his wand away and attempted to rein his temper. The wolf smouldered just beneath the surface. Hunt. Find cub. Protect cub. "How are we going to find him?"

Dumbledore twinkled, "Not to worry, my dear boy, I took the liberty of placing a few tracking spells on the child for just such an occasion." The old man gave his wand a showy wave and a blue light appeared out of the tip. The light hovered in place for a moment before dissipating. The man frowned and tried again with the same result. "It appears someone has removed my tracking charms."

"If Potter has maintained contact, then perhaps a tracking charm on a letter would suffice."

"An excellent idea Severus. Fawkes!" The phoenix appeared in its usual flash of flame and Dumbledore held out the newly fashioned letter. "Be so good as to take this to Mister Potter for me."

The phoenix just stood there, looking back and forth between Dumbledore and the letter and made no move to take it. Dumbledore conjured some string and made to tie the letter on the majestic bird's leg but the phoenix fluttered across the room. When the old man followed, the letter burst into flames and Fawkes flashed away.

Snape sniggered, "It appears as if Potter has inducted your familiar into his fan-club of simpering sycophants."

Remus stormed out of the meeting when it became clear that there was nothing more that the Order intended to do. Dumbledore had tried and failed to appease the man with the assurance that Harry would return to Hogwarts on September 1st.

"Useless, the whole lot. How do they expect to win a war when they can't find a single sixteen-year-old? MY sixteen-year old." The moment the man shut himself in his room, he fell to his knees with a dry sob. "Damn it, Harry! Where are you?" The man took several ragged breaths and pulled himself back to his feet, a plan already forming. He grabbed some parchment and began to pen a letter:

Dear Cub,

Your absence has been noted. The fried turkey club has agreed to wait for the new term before confronting you. You have hidden yourself well. I can never forgive myself for not knowing you were gone. I was forbidden to contact you for fear of the morgue-munchers tracing our owls. I'm sorry. That is one order I should never have obeyed.

I know you feel guilty about Snuffles. Don't. It was only a matter of time before he broke house-arrest and went charging into a danger he was unprepared for. He had never been quite stable since his stay in the pound. I am not saying it was his own fault, never that. The man was the last of my close friends and I shall miss him for the rest of my life, but I miss the man he was. The twenty-year-old who was so full of life and a little too full of himself. The man you loved as a father was ill. I know it hurts to read that. It hurts to write it, but it is the truth. The blame for Snuffles' death can be spread across many shoulders, but yours are not among them. You have every right to protect those you care for. Don't let anyone tell you different. If you had been kept informed and educated as you ought to have been this all might have been avoided. As much as I wish otherwise, you have far more right to be on a battlefield than most people of my acquaintance. We cannot expect to trade between treating you as a child and a soldier when it suits us. That is a choice only you can make.

I will not ask you to come back or to reveal yourself in any way. I just hope you are happy and that you might eventually trust me enough to let me come with you, wherever you may end up. You are the last of my pack, my family, my son, my brother, and my friend if you wish it. I ask only that you survive and thrive.

Yours,

Remus

Ps. If I am wrong and you are in danger, a paper cut will be enough for me to catch the scent of blood.

After sealing the letter, Remus called out tentatively, "Fawkes."

The phoenix came.

"Please take this to Harry. I swear it will not in any way betray him."

The bird gave him an imperious look and a scolding trill that said quite clearly, I already knew that, before taking the letter in his beak and disappearing and a flash of flames.

Jade was wandering Diagon Alley. It was his birthday and since he had cut himself off from his friends he would just have to get himself a present. It was for their own good, really. People seemed to be developing a bad habit of dropping dead around him. He stopped for an ice-cream and felt his eye drawn across the street to the twins' new shop, Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Do I dare? Snape may not have recognised him but the twins knew him much better. Stop being such a coward. It has to be put to the test sometime. He squared his shoulders and marched into the shop.

Jade blinked stupidly as he sprouted tentacles out his ears. He rolled his eyes with a chuckle and stepped the rest of the way inside. One of the twins, who Jade identified as George, spotted him and flagged down the other. As the fiends converged on his position he considered bolting, but the window of opportunity passed before he had made a decision. The twins latched on to his arms and half dragged him to the back room.

"Right this way sir."

"Cally, you have the store."

The back room was a storage area with an open door leading to what looked like a lab and a set of stairs leading to the second floor. Fred sealed the door to the storefront and the twins sat him on a box before pulling up boxes across from him.

Fred was the first to break the silence, "Love the new look, Little Brother."

George smirked, "You look positively edible. It's a pity...

"...we don't think about you..." Fred added.

"...that way," both finished.

Jade sighed, "How did you know?"

"Did you think we wouldn't..."

"...recognise our favourite brother."

"Only you..."

"...have that exact expression..."

"...when being pranked."

"But otherwise, you wouldn't have recognised me?"

"Nope, we are impressed..."

"...with your ability to..."

"...hide in plain sight. An act worthy..."

"...of our benefactor."

Jade hesitated, "Are you going to turn me in?"

"Of course not. Anyone who can cause as much upheaval as you have deserves a little freedom," George assured him.

"And we know you can look after yourself. Besides, if we wouldn't recognise you, what chance do the death-nibblers have?"

Jade grinned, "Thanks guys. The store looks great. I should have known you would prank your customers."

"We don't prank them every time."

"The ward on the door goes off on the first visit and at random intervals afterwards."

"And we charge reasonable rates for the antidotes." Fred passed Jade a bottle labelled Tentacle-be-gone.

"The dose wears off in 24 hours anyway."

"Why have you two been making deposits in my account? The start up money was meant to be a gift," Jade said.

"We decided to make you our silent partner," Fred stated.

"You don't get to refuse," George added.

"You get a third of the profits that are not put directly back into our store."

"As well as free merchandise."

"We welcome any ideas you may have."

"We have written up a contract to this regard."

"All it needs is your signature," they both finished, while George produced said piece of paper.

Jade looked at the determined faces across from him. "But you two are doing all the work."

They wore identical grins. "Mostly just the inventing and we don't consider it work. We wouldn't have a store without you."

"If I agree to this, I will only take five percent of the extra profits and you two allow me to bail out the store if it ever runs into financial trouble. I'll also pay for any added costs, such as upsizing or renovating, and anytime you need extra labour, magic, or rare ingredients, I will be the first person you contact."

"Make it fifteen percent and you have yourself a deal," Fred said. George was busy altering the contract in his hands.

Jade just sighed and signed the contract.

There you have it. Tell me what you think.

I think I'm finally starting to figure out the publication process.