Remus looked much the worse compared to the last time Harry had seen him, which was over a year ago. His appearance was all the more dishevelled, and he looked like he had aged at least five years; his clothes were all the more ragged, and Harry felt more sorry for him than ever. From Voldemort's memories, he knew how much the dark lord relished the anti-werewolf legislation that would have prevented Remus from holding any kind of employment. He had a deeper understanding of how Remus lived, based on (with a sudden jolt) Voldemort's interactions with Greyback and his wolfpack.

Lupin cast a furtive series of glances in all directions before approaching Harry's table. Harry was able to respond and react professionally on a knack suddenly acquired from the memories of his nemesis, avoiding eye contact until Lupin was fully seated. Lupin leaned over surreptitiously.

"Are you all right?"

He nodded and lowered his voice amid the raucous atmosphere of the pub. "Why don't you join me for supper while we discuss what Professor Dumbledore wants next?" Harry guessed that he had sent Lupin here.

"Harry, when you visited my office at the end of your third year, what magical creature did you see in one of the tanks I used to keep in my office?"

Lupin watched, slightly unnerved as Harry struggled to remember. The hand that gripped the wand in his pocket tightened. Harry had to think for over a minute, his brows deeply furrowed, his head in his hands before he looked up. Lupin could see from his eyes that he was faraway.

"A grindylow," Harry replied without any emotion. But it was still suspicious, Lupin knew. Harry had taken too long, and the way he remembered resembled somebody who had stolen another person's memory. But then again, it had been a rather obscure question, Lupin admitted.

"Another question just to check." He winced slightly. "What is my boggart, Harry?"

"We thought you were afraid of crystal balls at first," Harry said instantly, the corners of his mouth breaking into a familiar smile. "It's good to see you again, Professor. How are things going that I've missed out on?"

"I'm afraid the situation might be more serious than you might have thought. A few of our people are waiting outside. We're here to protect you until we reach where you'll be safe. We'll talk there."

"My stuff is still upstairs." Lupin nodded. "Do you want to-" Harry offered to get Remus something to eat as well but Lupin shook his head indicating that they had no time. Harry rose from the table and rounded the stairs to the upper level of rooms. Lupin flicked his wand in response to keep track of where Harry was located.

He shook his head, somewhat perturbed. He had been expecting Harry… to be different, but not like this. He had changed so much since the last time they met, his demeanour was a lot more serious and resembled that of an experienced adult. He had the alertness of an auror, while still being at complete ease with his surroundings; an extremely rare combination that was, and Lupin here scratched his head, normally reserved for only the most skilled of wizards like Dumbledore. And he had accepted everything, the need to move, without asking any questions. That wasn't the Harry Potter he remembered.

Harry emerged from the stairs again in record time carrying a newly bought trunk, Lupin could see. He was doing his best to ignore the frigid stares that followed him everywhere, as he attracted the eyes of many of the occupants. Lupin had a feeling from Harry's indifference that he might have guessed the reason why.

"All ready to go? Where's Hedwig's cage?"

Harry tapped the trunk and Lupin's eyebrows rose. He ushered Harry out of the pub after Harry paid and as soon as he was outside, Harry threw his trusty invisibility cloak over himself.

The way was clear. Lupin signalled and Kingsley across the street began to walk. Behind him, Lupin could see through the rain Moody trailing them. Tonks was ahead, about twenty steps, her hair was maroon this time. Lupin tapped himself on the head to cast an impervious charm to ward off the rain and did the same to an invisible Harry. They were off. Headquarters was only fifteen minutes away and he could side apparate Harry to a safe location at the first sign of trouble.

The walk was uneventful. Their entire party kept pace and Lupin could tell from his tracking charm that he had placed before that Harry was two steps to his right and following him. Walking through crowded Muggle London was always tricky from a security standpoint, even in the best circumstances. But it was also a double edged sword, any attacker would find it difficult to find them in the haystack.

Finally, as they reached a much quieter residential neighbourhood and was nearing Grimmauld Place, they all converged together. They were in a relatively empty lane, with rows of near-identical townhouses stacked one after another in geometric fashion. Harry saw Kingsley and Moody underneath his cloak break off and a second later they were gone, disapparated. The next second Lupin had grabbed his arm and Harry experience the familiar sensation of apparition.

He and Lupin were standing between Number Eleven and Number Thirteen. Judging from Voldemort's dim recollection, this was the Black ancestral home. Lupin gestured and Harry threw off his cloak. Lupin seemed to be expecting him to look sick. But he only felt mild nausea in what was actually his first ever real experience at apparition, and before Harry could take much stock of his surroundings, Lupin had thrust a thin piece of parchment towards him.

On it was written in neat, cursive script: "the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London."

Lupin glanced at Harry as the latter read and memorized and Lupin was alarmed as a sudden flash of realization passed through Lily's green eyes before it was quickly replaced by polite puzzlement. But how had Harry known beforehand? He thought it must have been his friends Ronald Weasley and Hermione, Ronald most likely, who had told him beforehand. Mrs. Weasley was not going to be pleased. He would need to have a quiet talk with Ronald Weasley before too long.

Harry glanced up and before his eyes the house in between appeared, shoving Number Eleven and Thirteen sideways. He already knew of the impressive magic guarding the Black ancestral home of course, from Voldemort's memories. He had visited once with Regulus to request the use of Kreacher, the Black house elf. So apparently this was now headquarters for the renewed Order of the Phoenix. It was poetic justice in a way.

Out of the shadows, Kingsley and Moody both stepped forward to enter the house. A second later, there was a crack as Tonks arrived. "Coast is clear, we weren't followed," she said breathlessly. Moody grunted and Kingsley gave a nod. Harry exchanged penetrating looks with them, making sure that it was too quick for legilimency. Voldemort knew them all apparently, but only by reputation. Moody, he of course knew the most about as he was considered a great and formidable foe.

"Potter, I never got around to thanking you for what you did a couple of months ago" Moody said gruffly shaking his hand. "I owe you one, if there's anything I could do for you personally, just ask."

"I'm Nymphadora Tonks," the now blue-haired woman said puffing out her chest, "I'm an auror, the youngest in the force and the most recently qualified.

"And this is Kingsley," said Lupin gesturing to him. Kingsley draped in a grey cloak smiled and nodded. "I've heard a lot of good things about you Mr. Potter, but you'll find the Ministry is not so obliging these days," Kingsley said in the deep and calm voice of his.

"I could've figured," Harry replied with a grimace. "And I suppose they've taken to smearing me with that rag of theirs, the Daily Prophet?" When Kingsley nodded, he snorted. "Oldest trick in the book."

They filed in one after another and Harry was smirking all the while, thinking up all the various ways that he could use his name and Boy Who Lived mantra to make the Ministry's attempt backfire spectacularly. Oh the possibilities and stratagems were endless, this was something that Voldemort relished. Beside him Lupin rang the doorbell, Harry spotted the knocker that was shaped as a serpent, and within him, he could feel Voldemort's approval like the first time he had seen it.

The front door opened and it was Mrs. Weasley to Harry's surprise, and her excited shouts drowned out his thoughts as she threw her arms around him.

"Oh Harry, we were so worried, when we heard… Thank goodness you're safe. Albus said…Well come in! Come in all! Sirius is here and Ron and Hermione too, you know…"

Harry let himself be ushered in as he entered into the long dark hallway of Number Twelve, the kitchen was in the basement, he remembered. The dining room was on the ground floor, and Harry could see the various (covered in cobwebs) portraits showcasing the ancestors of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black; most of them were fast asleep.

Tonks then knocked down the umbrella stand on her way in. A curtain was drawn fast and all heard screaming. "MUDBLOODS AND TRAITORS HOW DARE YOU DEFILE THE HOUSE OF MY FATHER" The next second, a shaggy-haired man had descended the stairs at top speed and was shouting roughly in return, "Shut up you old hag! Shut up!" He and Lupin forced the curtain over the portrait again slamming it closed with a bang!

It was Sirius. Harry made to approach him with a little trepidation; they had never really spoken face to face apart from their conversations by the fire at Gryffindor Tower, and they only met briefly after he had helped him escape.

Unlike Lupin, he was looking a lot better than when he had just emerged from his stint in Azkaban. His hair was less thin, he had filled out, and colour had returned to him. He and Harry managed to exchange meaningful glances before Mrs. Weasley stepped between them apologizing profusely as she implored Harry to wait upstairs as the Order was about to hold a meeting, so he went to find Ron and Hermione on the second floor.

A tap from his wand and he heard their quiet voices conversing in the next room. Harry could feel his heart swelling with gladness just from hearing them, that he momentarily forgot his frustration; that they had resisted telling him anything about the Order for the entire summer. All of that seemed so distant and unimportant now (especially since he now knew more than the both of them) so he resolved to just forget his previous anger. He also resisted the temptation to eavesdrop first.

He knocked. Instantly, their talk ceased and the door was flung open and the next second Hermione had hugged him with all her strength. He shrank slightly at her touch before allowing himself to relax. Neither he nor Lord Voldemort were accustomed to physical gestures of affection.

"Blimey, let him breathe Hermione," came Ron's voice from behind, but he too was grinning. Harry saw Ron had grown noticeably in the weeks since they last met; he was still a few inches taller than Harry as from before. Harry steeled himself and suppressed a sudden flare of anger as he faced them, feeling uncertain himself as to how to react. After all, none of the new memories which had surfaced so far, concerned friendship. And some of his old memories with them felt rather distant, after the recent deluge of things remembered. It felt like years since he had last seen them rather than weeks.

She released him finally and Harry also suppressed a sigh of relief, but neither of them could be deterred from their questions, which he found to be highly ironic given how desperate he had been for any scrap of information all summer. Half of him wanted to tell them what it felt like to fish for newspapers from waste bins, but that part was no longer all that he was either.

"I… where to begin," he mused.

"How did you escape the dementors," Ron asked breathlessly. "They wouldn't tell us anything, and the Ministry has been trying to hush it up. How did you manage to survive?" Hermione elbowed him sharply in the ribs and he winced.

"We couldn't believe something had happened during the summer right after Voldemort had returned, when we heard… Dumbledore is furious with Mundungus… well," she stammered looking at Harry fiercely and with the most intense expression possible. Her face was showing the most incomprehensible mixture of relief, shock, worry, and pity, Ron had all that but with awe and incredulity as well.

If Hermione was also curious as to why Harry had survived even without casting a patronus, as he himself certainly was, she did not show it outwardly. She seemed to realize how weighed down he felt though, because she bit her lip and said nothing further. Then Harry realized she was feeling slightly ashamed and guilty for withholding information.

"Well let's get this out of the way first before anything else," he said, "why did you not write back to me and tell me that you were here? I would have liked to know what the Order was up to, I could have done with some reassurances…"

"Dumbledore," Ron answered quickly, "we wanted to write to you mate, but he made us swear…"

"We're really sorry," Hermione said finally, "we're really sorry Harry, we wanted to tell you more but Dumbledore…"

"We know little enough as it is," Ron said somewhat heatedly, "we're not allowed at the Order meetings but we managed to glean a little from the new devices that Fred and George have invented." Next to him, Hermione rolled her eyes slightly.

"Well, they're bloody useful, aren't they?"

Harry was tempted to follow suit and also engage in some eye-rolling. He wasn't sure what Dumbledore had in mind in keeping him totally isolated. Sure, there was the possibility of owls being intercepted, or him being captured and tortured for information. But everyone ran the same risks, didn't they? Why had he been singled out in particular? Ron and Hermione could have devised a way to tell him information through code…

"Well I guess I forgive you," Harry said a little reluctantly, even though he probably knew way more than them now. Hermione gave a small, grateful smile, but still looked somewhat uncomfortable while Ron seemed more reassured. "I'll be adding that to the list of things I want to talk to Professor Dumbledore about."

"Now what about you," Ron asked again impatiently, "you've got to tell us about the dementors! How come they knew where to find you, the ministry is supposed to…"

"Have them under control, yeah."

"Well, it seems quite obvious the Ministry has lost control of the dementors," Hermione said ever logical, "at least since Voldemort has come back." She couldn't bring herself to consider any alternative. Had the Dementors been instructed to attack Harry by Voldemort? Surely, the Ministry couldn't have been infiltrated already?

"Either that, or I'd suspect an insider attack."

Harry and Hermione both froze. "How?" she mouthed. "Why?"

Harry decided to tell them the whole story. "So I was walking with my cousin Dudley, the next second the whole sky turns dark, all the lights are out, and the air absolutely freezes over, right? Dudley thought I was doing magic to bewitch him so he basically knocked me out. I couldn't find my wand. Next second, I had a dementor lower its hood to kiss me…"

They both had near identical expressions of shock, terror, and Hermione suddenly gripped at his arm.

"So I lose consciousness. When I come to, Dudley's gone. I'm still alive. Mrs. Figg, my neighbour, who actually is a squib and works for the Order…"

"I've meaning to say something about her," Ron suddenly interrupted, "Dad heard from his connections. The Ministry sent a team of oblivators to Privet Drive."

"WHAT?"

"That's why I think it was an insider attack. The Ministry is totally covering this up. I mean, they're pressing Harry over charges of a feather light charm, but your only witness to it Figg, I think, had her memory removed."

"But there's still the Dursleys," Hermione pointed out.

"Muggles aren't allowed to testify in wizarding courts," Ron reminded her.

"Yes they are, in life and death situations," Hermione snapped back.

"No, Ron is right," Harry said which caused both of them to turn to him in surprise. "They're allowed to testify by law in cases that concern the death of a witch or wizard, but not muggles. Not that they'd be willing after what happened to their son-"

There was a sudden CRACK and Ron and Hermione both jumped as Fred and George materialized out of thin air.

"Oi Harry," one of the twins said, bouncing forward and shaking Harry's hand, "we've been waiting for hours for you to turn up!"

"Fred bet five galleons the Ministry would have his memory wiped," George said before retracting as he saw the murderous expressions on Ron and Hermione. "Just a heheh… joke, you two."

"So what have you lot been up to this summer," Harry asked grinning slightly, "invented a few useful things that I've heard about?"

"That's exactly why we're here," Fred said eagerly and he pulled out a pair of fleshy-looking ears that he held by their string that was attached. "Extendable ears."

"Uh, how do they work exactly?"

"Well, I mean you hold one end here and then…"

"No I mean, what charms did you use," Harry asked, his mind turning over the new device. He had cast several wandless, diagnostic spells already so he knew the answer, and was impressed by their ingenuity.

"Trade secrets," both the twins said simultaneously which caused Ron to groan.

"Well, from the looks of it, it probably won't get past the imperturbable charm that your mother cast…"

"Wait, how do you know to tell the difference," Fred asked eying Harry suspiciously. He was suddenly conscious that not only did Harry Potter not know what the tell-tale signs were, he couldn't even cast one from before.

Meanwhile beside him, Hermione leaned forward, interested and slightly surprised.

Harry found himself without a good explanation as to how he knew that particular piece of magic so he changed the topic. "So I've been reading the Daily Prophet," Harry said and Hermione cringed. Well, he hadn't before assimilating Voldemort's memories. But after experiencing the hostility of the wizarding public in Diagon Alley, he had thought it sensible to do so.

"So either the Ministry insiders ordered the attack to kill me, or they just really want me expelled from Hogwarts," Harry reasoned. "I think I'll go with the latter without any further evidence. I mean, I've worked out the Ministry basically hates me now and wants to deny that Voldemort has returned. But I don't think they want me dead. If someone did order it within the Ministry, they're either imperiused or a death eater. Maybe Lucius Malfoy."

They all fell silent at that. There was a knock at the door, and Ginny Weasley walked in looking bright and radiant for a second as she beheld him.

"Hello Harry, I was wondering when you'd turn up," Ginny said casually. Although she was doing a much better job at hiding it, Harry had the perspicacious intuition that her feelings for him hadn't changed. She turned from him almost immediately to address her twin brothers and they all began bantering about the tell-tale signs of the imperturbable charm.

Turning to Ron and Hermione now, Harry spoke to them quietly so that he was fairly sure Ginny and the twins wouldn't hear easily.

"The dementor attack, for me, wasn't just an attack. Something else happened. Something else that changed me," he said in a low and faint tone, with just enough sound to be overheard. "I've changed." As Hermione looked at him questioningly and with skepticism, he continued. "I'll tell you everything after dinner, when I can get Sirius up here as well. I'll just tell you one thing now though. All summer, my scar was aching terribly. I think, it's been a lot worse since Voldemort's been back. After the dementor attack though, my scar has hardly even twinged with discomfort."

There was another knock, and it was Mrs. Weasley arriving to announce the end of the meeting and to invite them downstairs for dinner. Ron and Hermione both looked at each other, stunned and speechless. The twins raced to the door but Ginny turned back to ask him sympathetically about the date of his hearing.

"It's on the twelfth of August," Harry replied to her, "if I can remember correctly from the letter. But I'll be honest, I don't think a hearing will be necessary. The Ministry will drop charges long before then, I'm quite confident."

Ginny's eyes bulged, and she was looking at him oddly, as if not recognizing him for the first time. Harry attempted to smile back and she blushed ever so slightly before heading for the door also.

"Umm.. Harry," Hermione said tentatively nudging him. "I'm wondering, why you didn't ask us again what we knew about the Order and such? Aren't you curious about it, now?"

Harry gave her a knowing look, that seemed to say all will be explained in time. Ron raised an eyebrow, then headed for dinner also. Hermione and Harry descended the stairwell together after him. At a turn of the landing, Harry caught sight of the slightly odd form of an old house elf…

Instantly, the new stimuli yielded new memories and he gripped the rails, to steady himself. The expression must have shown, because Hermione turned to him in concern. She must have thought it was his scar hurting unexpectedly again. But the shadow was Kreacher, he was the Black's elf. Immediately he felt extremely sorry for Kreacher, as he knew the potion had clearly addled his wits. Kreacher stumbled past them, muttering to himself indistinctly, ignoring them both for the moment, although his suspicious eye did turn for a moment to regard Harry curiously.

Hermione waited patiently, not knowing how to respond. For a second, it seemed Harry was lost in space as he stared around wildly; his look was far away. Then in the next second he had recovered himself, and his bearings. He gave her a confident smile of reassurance that lifted the pit of worry in her stomach she had held all through their meeting, and they went down together.