Hey hey hey! I've edited Chapter 10 in case you wanna go back and re-read it, because I totally missed out an important plot detail that will be of relevance later on. I don't suppose it'll make much difference if you read it now but in later chapters it'll all make sense. 'Sup to you. :D

I made these Aurors' names up, so you don't have to go flicking through your HP books wondering what relevance they have to Harry's life at Hogwarts, 'cause they don't. Please gimme love and reviews, because you're all so awesome and supermegafoxyawesomehot. ;)

DISCLAIMER: I own no part of the Harry Potter books, films, etc. Everything belongs to JKR/Warner Bros.

All bits from the book(s) are in bold

The Meaning Of Family

Chapter Twelve

'Wait – where are you taking me?'

The tall Auror sneered at him. 'Do you really need us to spell that out for you, Black?' The shorter one laughed, and the blond one's mouth twisted into a sarcastic smirk.

'But I – argh! I haven't done anything wrong!' Sirius cried as they jostled and tugged at him. 'Stop it, let me go, please!'

All three laughed at him. 'Right! Of course we'll let you go, Black,' the tall one snorted. 'Come on, Radley, Jones; let's take this crazed idiot back to the back-ups.'

'What?' Sirius said, terrified and confused. 'Back-ups?'

'Back-up Aurors, you idiot. Honestly, how did this piece of bloody Puffskein dung manage to betray the Potters?'

'What?'

'What's wrong, Black?' the blond laughed as the other two jeered. 'Didn't you know why you were being arrested?'

'But I didn't betray them!' Sirius gasped helplessly. He felt like he was drowning, he couldn't breathe in this hellish nightmare – for, surely, it had to be a nightmare, didn't it? This couldn't really be happening. Dumbledore had everything under control, he'd told them to trust him, hadn't he? This was all just a terrible dream, and soon he would wake up in bed next to Remus's soft, warm body and tell him, and they'd shudder and laugh at what a nightmare that would be…

Remus. It was weird to think that, not five minutes ago, he had been laying the table in preparation for the perfect Valentine's evening with Remus. Not that he'd ever been very enthusiastic about Valentine's Day in his life, but since he had known and been reassured that Remus loved him as much as he loved Remus, things started to mean something to him. Little things, like song lyrics or the storylines of books or sickly sweet Cupids with bows and arrows that he'd seen plastered up all around Grimmauld Place. He needed Remus to come and save him, to wake him up from this horrendous nightmare. He refused to believe it was true, because it couldn't be. Perhaps this was all some sick, elaborate practical joke, and Remus was about to come and rescue him, and tell these 'Aurors' that their little bit of entertainment wasn't actually all that funny. If only Remus would act quickly, shake him awake or break up this little party, and make everything seem okay again –

'OI! Aren't you listening, Black? Didn't you hear what I just asked you?' the short Auror yelled in his ear. He tripped as he was jostled along the pavement, and he became aware that his arms were pinned behind his back. It frightened him to realise how little resistance he had put up.

'W-what?'

'Are you deaf? I said who else is betraying information to You-Know-Who?' the short Auror repeated angrily.

'I – what? I'm not betraying information to Voldemort!' Sirius shouted, struggling futilely. The blond Auror whispered, 'Incarcerous,' and tight black bonds appeared from the end of his wand, snaking themselves around Sirius's arms. 'Let me go!' Sirius cried furiously. 'I'm not betraying information to Voldemort, and I don't know anyone who is! Let me go!'

'You're not going anywhere you filthy Death Eater,' the tall, dark-haired Auror said acidly, as his two companions hissed in disgust. 'You betrayed Lily and James Potter to You-Know-Who and you've been passing information to him for years!'

'No I haven't!' Sirius yelled. 'James was my best friend, I would never do anything to hurt him! I'm not your criminal!'

'Oh yeah?' the blond sneered. 'Who is then?'

'Peter Pettigrew,' Sirius moaned, knowing as soon as the words left his mouth that the Aurors wouldn't believe him. Just as he'd predicted, they laughed humourlessly, grinning at his foolish stupidity.

'Peter Pettigrew? He's dead!' the short Auror shouted. His voice was too loud for his body, booming and forcing its way into Sirius's ears, crashing against his eardrums and resounding painfully. 'Killed two days ago by a Death Eater.'

'No, you have to believe me!' Sirius cried.

'And why would we do that?' the tall Auror asked, dragging him roughly along. 'All evidence points to you being the betrayer. Pettigrew died a hero's death.'

By this time they had reached a crowd of Aurors, at least twenty of them, all with their wands pointed at Sirius's chest, directly above his heart. He gulped. The mismatched team of three yanked him towards an old shoe lying innocently on the ground. It could have simply been a piece of old rubbish, but for the fact that it was glowing a bright blue.

'A Portkey,' Sirius muttered, suddenly more panicked than before. 'Where are you taking me?'

The three laughed.

'The Ministry, you moron,' the blond Auror said. 'Where else? You'll have a nice, fair trial, and then…' He dragged the last part of the sentence out, relishing Sirius's discomfort.

'And then what?'

'And then you'll be sent to Azkaban.'

'Let me go!'

'No, Remus, you sit down!'

'Molly –'

'No, Arthur! Dumbledore told us to keep him safe, now I'm keeping him safe!'

'Let me go! I have to find Pettigrew!'

'Remus, you don't know what you're saying!' Molly Weasley shouted. 'Peter Pettigrew was killed two days ago!'

'He's not dead, he can't be!' Remus cried desperately. 'I have to find him so Sirius's name can be cleared!'

'Remus, SIT DOWN!'

He knew from the tone of Molly's voice that further argument would be pointless. All the same, he smashed his fist down on the table as he flopped into the chair that Molly was holding out for him with a sort of angry authority, groaning at his own incompetence.

He hadn't even got as far as Charing Cross Road before Dumbledore had Apparated right in front of him with a face like thunder, very akin to Molly Weasley's current expression, grabbed his arm and taken him back to the Burrow before he could so much as protest or explain. Dumbledore had led him straight into the house, muttered, 'Don't let him go, Molly,' and departed immediately.

True to Dumbledore's orders, Molly had refused to let him leave the Weasleys' kitchen, and had now succeeded in forcing him into a chair, despite her husband's feeble protests. Now that he was stuck here, with nowhere to go, no one to tell him anything about Sirius or Harry, and no means of escape under Molly's eagle-eye, Remus felt weaker than he'd ever felt. How the hell was he supposed to get out of this? Sirius was in trouble and Harry was alone in a strange house with a crazy woman and a crazy House Elf and Remus had no power to do anything about either situation. He only hoped with all his might that Dumbledore had rescued Harry and was now at the Ministry, possibly explaining the mix-up and bringing Sirius to the Burrow right away…

Don't be stupid, Remus, he told himself. Dumbledore's expression alone had told him that they were deep in a crisis, the volume of which he had not quite realised before in his haze of rash revenge-seeking, and the seriousness of which was beginning to dawn on him. A wave of nausea rose up inside him, and he stood up suddenly. Molly, thinking he was about to Disapparate, grabbed his arm, but he shook his head.

'Please, just let me use your bathroom, I think I'm about to throw up,' he pleaded. Molly simply glared at him.

'If you want to be sick, Remus, feel free to do it on my kitchen table,' she said shortly, as Arthur opened his mouth to give Remus permission to leave. Unfortunately, Molly clearly didn't trust Remus (he supposed he couldn't blame her, after the episode at the Tonks' house), and she looked him straight in the eyes, hands on hips, one eyebrow raised in a silent challenge.

'Molly, I really think I'm going to be sick,' Remus moaned, wincing as bile rose in his throat. 'I promise I won't go anywhere, just please let me use your bathroom!'

'Remus Lupin, you are not going anywhere!' Molly said firmly.

'But I really –' Remus said, and was promptly sick all over the Weasleys' kitchen table. There was an awkward silence. 'Sorry,' he added.

'No, no, it's fine,' Arthur said weakly, eyeing the pool of vomit on the table. 'Molly, could you, um… You know how bad my cleaning spells are.'

Molly sighed and waved her wand. 'Scourgify.' Pink soap bubbles blossomed from the end of her wand, swallowing the table for a moment before disappearing, leaving the table as clean as ever. 'Sit down, Remus,' she said, adding, 'Don't be silly,' as he opened his mouth to apologise again.

'I just wish…' Remus muttered, sinking into his chair again.

'What?'

'I want Sirius,' he moaned childishly, folding his arms on the table and resting his throbbing head on them.

'I know you do, Remus, but he's not here,' Molly said gently, exchanging a worried glance with her husband. Remus must be exhausted and frustrated, they couldn't have him running off on his own, especially since they had Dumbledore's orders to keep him at the Burrow. Molly knew it was more than Remus's life's worth to be caught trying to help Sirius Black, and in his current state he was probably more dangerous than the whole Auror Department.

Remus didn't bother to comment on Molly's genius observational skills. He was too tired, angry and overwhelmed by the whole situation. 'Where's Harry?' he asked, his voice muffled against his jacket sleeves.

'Dumbledore's gone to get him, Remus, there's no need to worry,' Arthur said. 'He's taking him back to his aunt and uncle's.'

'WHAT?'

Both Molly and Arthur leaped backwards as Remus sat up suddenly, his face alive with rage.

'Remus –' Molly began in a frightened voice. Remus cut her off, standing up, his chair scraping noisily against the wooden floor.

'Why's he taking him there?' he shouted furiously. 'They won't look after him like Sirius will! What the HELL is he thinking?'

'Remus, Sirius is going to Azkaban! He can't look after Harry!' Arthur said meekly.

'HE IS NOT GOING TO AZKABAN!'

There was a long silence. Remus stood in the centre of the kitchen, breathing heavily, his face scarlet with rage. Molly and Arthur stood side by side opposite him, their faces white in comparison, their expressions terrified. For once he didn't care what other people thought about him. He didn't care about anything right now, except for that fact that Sirius was in terrible danger and was going to be convicted of a crime he had not committed, and that nobody was willing to do a thing about it or let Remus do anything about it. He felt so angry and helpless, and he couldn't help wondering whether Sirius was wishing for him to come and rescue him right now. Without a word, he stormed towards the door, but Molly grabbed his arm before he could fling it open.

'No, Remus!' she said firmly. She still looked shocked but her tone was commanding. 'You are staying here.'

'Sirius needs me,' Remus growled, his voice low and as threatening as he could make it. Molly wasn't fazed.

'The last thing Sirius needs is you ending up in a cell beside him,' she snapped.

'At least he'd have some company then!' Remus argued.

'Company?' Molly cried. 'Remus, if you leave now you have less of a chance of helping Sirius than if you just stay here and keep calm.'

Remus glared at her as he struggled to keep his emotions under control. 'How do you work that one out?' he muttered, his hands clenching into fists to keep from shouting again.

'You can give evidence, Remus!' Molly replied, as though it ought to be obvious. 'They can't imprison him without a trial, it's illegal. If you walk out now you're only putting yourself in danger, but if you just stay until Dumbledore gets here you can help Sirius go free.'

'She's right, Remus,' Arthur said quietly. 'It's the only thing you can do to help.'

'But Peter…' Remus moaned helplessly.

'Peter's dead,' Molly whispered. 'I'm sorry, Remus. I know it's hard to lose friends. I know what it's – what it's like to – to lose people you're c-close to,' she added, sounding close to tears for some inexplicable reason. Arthur put a comforting arm around her shoulder and murmured, 'They'd be proud of you, Molly. They always were.' To Remus he said, 'You'll stay tonight?' Remus nodded.

'There's a spare room just upstairs, Remus, you can sleep there,' Molly said, sounding as though she had a bad cold. 'I'll show you up, it's just on the first floor.'

'Thanks, Molly,' Remus said quietly. He followed her up to a small room just off the first landing of the stairs. The walls and floor were the same colour – they looked a pinkish lilac in the dim light – and there was a bookcase in one corner decorated with painted flowers and butterflies. The latter were flitting about the painted wood, fluttering their wings and pausing occasionally as if to inspect a book cover. Molly indicated a smallish bed, pushed up against the wall. The bedspread was also patterned with butterflies and garden flowers. The peacefulness of the bedroom was a stark contrast to the events of the evening.

'This is Ginny's room,' Molly said, folding the duvet back and plumping up the pillows, 'but she's sleeping in our room tonight, so you can have hers.' She smiled kindly, resuming the maternal nature that came so naturally to her.

'Thanks, Molly,' Remus said again, a little choked up. They were going to so much trouble for him. So much trouble just to keep him there, to keep him safe.

He hated it.

It was the same old feeling of being a liability to everyone, the same feeling of being an inconvenience to all – to his parents, to his teachers and to Dumbledore, even to his best friends, and now to Molly and Arthur. He felt like he was taking advantage of their hospitality and their good nature, and the bitter resentment he felt at being forced to impose his company on other people made him feel guiltier than ever. He could feel the same old insecurities rushing back, the same doubts and fears he had held from being a small child: They only take care of me because they have to… They only let me in to this school for my parents' sake… They're only friends with me because they feel sorry for me… He was a burden to all who shared his company – or rather, all who were forced to be in the same room as him at any given moment – and, not for the first time, he wished he were normal. He wished he were an ordinary human being, and not afflicted with this feared and misunderstood condition… that he could find paid work, and friends, and that people would not refuse to talk to him on the grounds of who he was – no, what he was. He wasn't a person – merely an outcast, an anomaly, a burden of society… an animal.

'Oh, it's no trouble, dear,' Molly said kindly, tugging him away from his own bitter thoughts before he could become swept away in resentment. There was a pause, in which she waited for a reply he didn't give. 'Well, I'll leave you to it,' she added, smiling again, though her expression was troubled. 'Goodnight, Remus, dear.'

Instead of asking what was good about it, Remus replied with the usual social niceties. 'Goodnight, Molly.' No use making everyone even more uncomfortable by being bitter about your situation. Better to pretend you didn't know what people said about you behind your back. Better to ignore the hard facts and the inconvenient truths. Better to be civil, and not talk openly about the issues that needed addressing. Better to ignore the elephant in the room.

He flopped down onto the bed without bother to get undressed – he had no nightclothes anyway, so what was the use? As the echoes of his own fears and thoughts whispered mockingly and taunted him in the cold, still night air, goose bumps crawled up his arms. He felt like he was sinking into a river of fear, doubt and heartbreak. For the first time, he had actually begun to realise that Lily and James were gone forever, that never again was he going to see James attempt to make his hair even messier at the back; never again would he shake his head at James's uncanny Quidditch skills or his Snitch-catching reflexes; never again would he laugh at the way Lily raised her eyebrows and tried not to look flattered the five-hundredth time James asked her out; never again would he have to haul a drunken James up the staircase to the Gryffindor boys' dormitories and put him to bed; never again would he have jokes made to him about his 'time of the month' or his 'furry little problem'; never again would he bump into Lily in the library and end up having an hour-long discussion about Chinese Chomping Cabbages or the correct technique for making a Draught of Living Death (something Remus could never get the hang of), before James came to find him and came over all mature all of a sudden…

Never again.

He would never see Lily and James again.

He was crying himself to sleep for the first time in eleven years. For the first time since he'd thought he would be the only eleven-year-old wizard in Britain not to go to Hogwarts, he was curled up in bed with hot tears flowing freely from his eyes.

He'd only just realised how much he had lost in the past four months. How much he missed, like James's lopsided grin, or Lily's exasperated shake of her head, or Sirius's laugh, or Harry's soft, sleeping snuffles.

He had to do everything he could to make sure Sirius wasn't convicted. He had to make sure Dumbledore didn't let the Ministry convict Sirius of something he hadn't done. He couldn't lose yet another part of his life, or he would have nothing to live for.

And yet it seemed as though his life had been doomed from the start. Afflicted with lycanthropy when he was barely more than a toddler, he had grown up as an outcast, used to people backing away or hurrying past as though they hadn't noticed him. Even used to his parents flinching whenever they looked at him, as though they couldn't bear to look at their son anymore – as though he wasn't their son, as though their strong, intelligent, confident Remus had been abducted by aliens, and all they had was this tired and damaged version in return. He had had a wondrous seven years at Hogwarts, almost able to be himself and sometimes even allowing himself to pretend that his friends really did like him for who he was – but he had always known that his luck would one day run out. When you were an outcast, a loner, your luck was limited. If there was a Handbook of Life, or instructions for the building of society, perhaps, every copy would have a fairytale rule, which would state quite plainly that villains and monsters were not allowed happy endings. It just didn't happen.

Still, he thought, whether or not he was destined to be spurned and shied away from for the rest of his life, Sirius did not deserve to be anything other than happy. Yet here Remus was, lying pathetically on a butterfly-patterned bed and waiting for the next set of instructions from Dumbledore. He only hoped that Dumbledore knew what he was doing, because Remus felt certain that if Dumbledore had stopped him doing the only thing that would prove Sirius's innocence for nothing, if he had failed to make the Ministry see that Sirius had done nothing wrong, Remus was holding him personally responsible.

He was crying himself to sleep for the first time ever. It was embarrassed and secretive, his fist bleeding from biting down on it so hard to muffle his faint whimpers, but all the same he was crying himself to sleep. He wasn't entirely sure why; perhaps it was simply nerves, or the pressure of trying to pretend he was as normal and as excited about finally going to Hogwarts as everyone else with the thought that he was different – totally and utterly different to all the others – hanging over him, the fear that somebody would discover his secret, and that he would be shunned for the next seven years of his life. He'd got on the train in his brand new robes and found a quiet compartment with only a pretty, red-haired girl who looked like she, too, felt that she ought to be enjoying this more than she actually was. He'd smiled shyly and then they'd both gone back to minding their own businesses. And when three rather rowdy boys had entered the compartment and asked him to tell them his name, he'd been polite enough to oblige.

'What's your name?' the most forward and confident of the three had asked.

'Remus Lupin,' he'd replied, silently smiling to himself at the way the boy with untidy hair and glasses had gone a little red when he'd seen that the girl had caught him staring at her.

'Nice to meet you, Remus Lupin,' the first boy had replied. 'I'm Sirius Black.'

He'd politely consented to join the boys in the boat up to the castle, although he'd kept silent all the way up to the castle. He'd begun to get nervous as they'd approached the Great Hall, and the tension as he and the rest of the first years had waited in line for their Sorting had started to get to him. What if he didn't get Sorted into Gryffindor like his father, and his parents were disappointed in him? What if he wasn't chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he'd better get back on the train?

He'd waited and worried until, finally, Professor McGonagall had called his name, and he'd walked over, very nervously, to the stool and sat down, all the while feeling more than a little queasy. The Hat had debated whether to put him in Ravenclaw, but had decided against it, feeling that he might struggle. When it did decide – shouting its final choice out to the rest of the Great Hall – he'd been so relieved to actually have been put in a house that he hadn't heard which one it was; it wasn't until he'd looked around and seen the Gryffindor table cheering heartily that he'd grinned and exhaled with relief and made his wobbly way over as the exceedingly handsome dark-haired boy from the train had moved up and beckoned him over to sit with him.

'Come and sit with me, Remus Lupin,' he had said, with a grin that had made Remus's heart stutter in the oddest way.

All through the feast he'd made an exhausting effort to be cheerful, to be excited and enthusiastic, to tuck into the feast with everyone else and debate this year's winners of the House and Quidditch Cups; he had concentrated on his plate and spoken when necessary and only when necessary. Finally, shattered and tense, he'd collapsed on his bed as soon as they'd been shown their dormitories, far too tired for sleep.

And here he was, eleven years old, far too old to cry, and shaking with sticky sobs, his only source of comfort being that nobody yet knew who he was. What he was.

'What's up, Remus Lupin?'

He paused, biting down hard on his knuckle to stop himself bawling like a baby, as he felt a slight weight on the end of his bed, and a skinny silhouette crawled up the covers towards him. Sirius Black settled himself next to Remus Lupin and put an arm around the smaller boy. There was no doubt that he knew Remus had been crying.

Silently cursing himself for not being discreet enough, Remus sighed and bit his lip. 'I just… don't belong here,' he said carefully, fully aware of how close he was to revealing his secret, what dangerous territory he was treading on. To his surprise, Sirius sighed too, as if he knew exactly how Remus felt, as though he too was an outsider.

'I don't belong here either,' he said sadly. 'Look at me. Sirius Black, the only Gryffindor in a whole family of Slytherins for centuries. Probably ever, in fact.'

'But you have friends,' Remus frowned. 'James and Peter; they like you.'

There was a pause.

'What about you?'

'What about me?'

'Don't – don't you like me?' Sirius asked, suddenly sounding almost insecure, totally the opposite of his confident, haughty demeanour earlier in the day. Remus almost laughed to think that Sirius could have any question of doubt in his mind. He had been captivated by Sirius ever since he'd entered the train carriage that morning and flopped down onto the seat next to him without so much as an introduction.

'Of course I do,' he said with a smile.

'Good,' Sirius murmured, wriggling a little in order to settle down more comfortably. They sat in silence for some time. Remus had almost dropped off to sleep when an unwelcome thought had struck him.

'Um, do you think we should…? I mean, don't you think people, if they find us… in the same bed, people might… talk…?' he'd said a little uneasily, unwilling to say it but already anxious of the impression he made to others, in case he gave away too much, revealed too much of his secret.

'Oh… Yeah, sure,' Sirius muttered, sounding reluctant as his arm withdrew from around Remus's shoulders and he slid off the bed.

'Sorry,' Remus said quietly. Sirius grinned.

'It's alright, Remus Lupin. Just as long as I know you like me.'

And with a playful wink, he padded over to his own bed on the other side of the room.