Harry woke with a start.

Disoriented, he looked around the room, trying to remember where he was and why.

It all came rushing back, and he leaped off the divan, incredulous that he had fallen asleep after all.

What had woken him became quickly apparent -- the potion Snape had left simmering was making loud popping noises as it frothed and spat red flecks up out of the cauldron.

Harry approached it cautiously.

Maybe the fire hadn't been left low enough. Snape had been preoccupied.

Or maybe it needed to be stirred. There was a long-handled spoon lying next to the cauldron, and Harry recalled seeing Snape use it on this potion. He even remembered which way Snape had stirred. Clockwise.

He hesitated. The potion spat a glob onto the table, and it sizzled, turning from red to nearly black as it cooled.

He reached for the ladle and tried to get near the cauldron without getting spattered.

Maybe you shouldn't touch it.

The thought occurred to him just as he was about to lower the ladle into the cauldron.

Snape had told him not to touch anything. Those were very clear directions.

On the other hand, the potion was probably very important. Someone probably needed it desperately, and it seemed like it took a long time to make, if Snape had left it overnight.

Besides, stirring a potion couldn't hurt it.

What would you know?

Harry dropped the ladle back on the table.

Right. Just step away.

The potion boiled angrily and spat more gooey globs onto the table.

He turned his back on it.

He walked back to the divan and sat down.

Snape was right. He did have trouble doing what he was told. Even simple things.

Why was that?

Fine, let the potion be ruined, if that's what was going to happen.

He glanced at the clock; it was early morning. Too early for there to be any news. Too early to be up, really.

Except that he hadn't meant to sleep at all. After finishing with the cauldrons, he had tried to read a book, but he must have got too comfortable....

He picked at the cold scraps left over from supper -- he hadn't been very hungry then -- and tried to think of something useful he could occupy himself with.

Anything, to keep from thinking about Snape and whether he'd been successful or not.

He got up and walked slowly through the rooms he was allowed into.

There was the main room, with the work table and not much else. The bookshelf had some interesting books, but Harry wasn't in the mood to read any more.

The library was small and dusty and cramped, with bookcases against every wall, tall enough to touch the ceiling high above Harry's head. The books -- the ones whose titles he could read, anyway -- were mostly about Potions and the Dark Arts.

He noticed one shelf where the dust had been disturbed, and took a closer look. Runes, Charms, and Transfiguration, mostly. He took down one book that seemed to have been moved recently. It was a thick book with a soft leather cover, and it fell open in his hands. He couldn't read it, because it was written in an unfamiliar language, but the illustration was the same one he had seen earlier in the Daily Prophet. The same carved stones, except the symbols were different. There was a human skull pictured on the opposite page. Harry flipped through the book, and shuddered at some of the more violent and gruesome illustrations, but without being able to read the words it made no sense to him. He put it back.

There were several storage cupboards and one room that might have been meant to be a kitchen, but was being used for storage as well. Creatures that looked like two-headed tadpoles with forked tails swam in murky water in the sink.

Snape had not pointed out which of the doors led to his bedroom, but only one door wouldn't open when Harry tried the knob. He wondered irritably how Snape thought he would get in, even if he wanted to disobey, if the door was kept locked.

The other doors led to a marble-tiled bathroom with ornate fixtures and mirrors that made Harry's face long and skinny; an empty, filthy cellar at the end of a short flight of stairs, with a damp dirt floor, low ceiling, and thick cobwebs in every corner; and a large room that was empty except for some packing boxes, several melted or damaged cauldrons, and a broken footstool.

Harry wondered why Snape chose to live this way, or if all of this was a recent development. No one had time to keep up good housekeeping during a war, but Harry thought things shouldn't have reached such a state of decrepitude at Hogwarts. It seemed almost as if Snape didn't allow the house-elves in to clean.

The screech of an owl sent him running.

The only window in the place was a narrow, grimy one up near the ceiling. It was cracked open, and Harry could see a beak poking through.

He didn't see any easy way to reach the window, which was so high up that he thought he had no hopes of reaching it.

He missed having a wand.

Finally, he climbed up on a chair and used the handle of a broom to pry the window open, and the owl flew inside.

It made a wide circle around the room, dropped a newspaper and several letters onto a chair, and flew back out without a second look at Harry.

Harry picked up the letters first, because two had fallen to the floor. All were addressed to Snape, and he put them on the work table. Then he turned to the newspaper.

The headlines on the front page did not interest him. They were still obsessing over his death. Was that a good sign? Or did it just mean that news of the execution -- or escape -- of a werewolf wouldn't be big or sensational enough to bump news about Harry Potter off the front page?

He turned each page with dread, but there was nothing until the bottom of the eighth.

The execution of Remus J. Lupin, a werewolf
linked to child-killer Fenrir Greyback, was
carried out without incident --

The paper fell out of Harry's hands, the pages fluttering down to the floor.

Harry followed them down, falling to his knees as his legs gave out.

For a very long time he stayed that way, oblivious to the chill creeping into his body from the cold stone floor, and stared unseeingly at the wall in front of him. Even after the numbness had started to leave his brain, it took a hundred deep breaths or more before he could pull himself shakily back to his feet.

He couldn't panic or fall to pieces. Not when he knew from his own experience that dead wasn't always really dead.

Snape had faked Harry's death, so that hiding him would be easier. Maybe he had done the same for Lupin, somehow.

He sat down on the hard bench behind the work table -- noticing dully that the fire under the potion had gone out and the potion was a dark, congealed mass at the bottom of the cauldron -- and put his head down on top of his arms.

He tried very hard not to think. Nothing in the papers could be believed, anyway. He wouldn't think.

His eyes itched. When he rubbed them, his face was damp and clammy.

He wasn't doing a very good job of not thinking.

He was still sitting there with his head buried in his arms when the lock clicked, making him look up.

The door swung open.

Harry got to his feet.

The door was wide open, but the short stretch of corridor that was visible outside it was empty. Harry wondered if he ought to hide.

He took a few steps forward, and then fell back as an odd procession came into view.

Snape had an iron grip on the arm of a young boy, and was using that arm to shove the child in front of him. The boy, who looked enraged, with flashing eyes and flushed cheeks, was stumbling along as best he could while putting up a valiant struggle. He seemed to be yelling, too, but no sound could be heard.

Snape's other hand was clamped on the shoulder of a second boy, though this seemed unnecessary, as he walked along meekly with his head bowed.

With a very hard shove, Snape sent his struggling charge reeling across the room. He hit the wall a few feet from Harry with a painful-sounding thud, which still failed to wipe the rage off his face. If the other boy hadn't run up to him and held him back, Harry was sure he would have lunged at Snape.

Harry looked from one boy to the other, not sure if he was seeing what he was seeing. "What...?"

Snape was breathing very hard, and his lips were curled back to reveal tightly-clenched teeth. He turned to shut the door, but never took his eyes off Harry and the others.

"Just a moment, Severus!"

McGonagall had appeared in the doorway before Snape could shut the door all the way, and Snape looked like he wanted to throttle her. "WHAT?"

She looked affronted, and gave him a look that seemed to take him down a notch. "I need to speak with you, and I'm afraid it cannot wait. We've had an incident...."

Snape's hands curled into fists, but he followed her out, slamming the door shut behind him.

"WILL SOMEONE TELL ME WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!"

Harry, who had jumped in fright, turned to stare at the boy.

But it was the other one who spoke, apologetically. "Had to sedate him. He's just woken up, and is a bit confused."

"CONFUSED?! CONFUSED?!"

"Calm down, Padfoot, for goodness sake! I'd explain if you'd quit yelling!"

"Padfoot..." Harry whispered. His eyes hurt from straining out of their sockets. "Are you...? I mean, are you...?"

They both looked at him, one with a cringe and the other as though he wanted to punch him.

"Who the bloody hell are you?"

Harry opened his mouth, and then remembered what would come out. He shut it again quickly.

"It's your godson, Padfoot... which you would have realized if you weren't blind with rage."

The boy blinked. "Wha--?" He narrowed his eyes. "Where's the scar?"

"Gone," Harry said weakly. "Ever since Voldemort died. Sirius? This... is... so..."

"INSANE!" Sirius roared. He turned on Lupin. "You damn well better have a really good explanation, BECAUSE I AM NOT IMPRESSED WITH ANY OF THIS!"

"Professor Lupin?" Harry whispered.

The boy sighed and ran his fingers through his mop of light brown hair. "Yes, James."

"JAMES?!"

"I changed his name," Lupin said resignedly. "Can I ask you again to stop yelling?"

Harry was shaking his head, feeling dizzy and slightly sick to his stomach, which was tied in knots. "What...? How...?"

"It's a long story," Lupin said with another sigh. "And I'm so terribly sorry for what I did to you..."

"It's okay," Harry said, not caring for the moment, "but... how?"

"Does it really matter? He's here."

"But --"

Harry didn't get to finish, because he found himself being hugged hard enough to cut his breath off.

"James!" Sirius said, letting him go at last. "Are you all right? Did that evil git hurt you?"

Harry shook his head. "I've only been here less than a day."

Lupin looked guilty again. "Was that place really awful? I am sorry --"

"It's okay," Harry insisted. "I'm fine, really."

"You're obviously not fine," Sirius snapped. "Look at us. What the bloody hell, Moony?"

"How come you got to keep your names?" Harry asked grumpily. He hated being called James, and it was somehow even worse when Sirius did it.

"We didn't," Lupin said, "but we made our old nicknames our surnames, so we could keep using them. I'm Milo Moony now."

"And what am I?" Sirius demanded. His mouth moved several times without making a sound, and he looked angrier each time; Harry was sure he was attempting to say his name, and finding it impossible.

"Sorry," Lupin said, looking at him apologetically. "You won't be able to."

Sirius glared at him.

"You're Paddy -- Patrick, really -- Puddifoot."

Harry snorted. "Like the cafe in Hogsmeade?"

"Yes," Lupin said, looking away, "well, Madam Puddifoot was killed several weeks ago, so she won't mind having gained a grandson, I'm sure."

Harry sobered quickly. He hadn't known.

"Oh, this is just great," Sirius said, stomping over to a chair and throwing himself onto it. "What next, I ask you?"

"Next you're going to calm down, and let us explain everything, and you won't do anything stupid, because you could get us all killed."

"SO?!" Sirius growled, leaping off the chair like a jack-in-the-box. "START EXPLAINING, WHY DON'T YOU!"

"Yes," said Snape from the doorway. He was back, carrying a box, and looked like he had mastered his temper, though his eyes were still flashing dangerously. "Do tell us exactly how you got us all into this mess."

Lupin looked at his shoes. "I... uh, Severus, can we speak in private?"

"No," Snape said shortly. "We cannot."

"Start talking," Sirius added, crossing his arms over his chest.

Even Harry couldn't help leaning forward a little. Lupin owed him an explanation, after everything that had happened.

"I... I can't, Severus," he looked at Snape in wide-eyed appeal. "He doesn't even know what happened to him. I need time to explain...."

Snape's lips curled cruelly. He turned toward Sirius. "Black, allow me to catch you up on what you've missed. You were killed, in June of this year, after storming the Ministry of Magic in search of this little fool --" He motioned at Harry. "It is now late September. Any questions?"

Sirius looked livid, but he looked at Lupin first, and his expression slowly turned to puzzlement as Lupin avoided making eye-contact.

"Moving right along," Snape continued gleefully. "Lupin decides to disregard all the laws that we as wizards hold dear, and somehow manages to bring you back --"

Sirius, who had turned back to Snape, rounded on Lupin with his eyes wide. "You what? But that's a death sentence --"

A newspaper clipping appeared in Snape's hand. He waved it back and forth in front of Sirius' nose.

Sirius snatched it. There was a long silence while he read, a look of horror growing on his face.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Lupin said glumly. "I nearly got us both executed, and if anyone finds out we're here --"

Snape made a squelching noise and drew a finger over his throat, making both Lupin and Harry jump.

Harry remembered suddenly, and dashed over to pick up that morning's paper off the floor. "I read --here -- it says --"

Snape took it from him. His eyes flicked over the article, and then he handed it to Lupin, who went very pale.

Sirius took it from him and scowled at it. "Well, it wasn't us."

"You should be down on your knees, thanking me that it wasn't you!" Snape snarled. "I could just as easily have left you to your fate."

"We are grateful," Lupin said, interrupting whatever Sirius had been about to retort.

"Yes, very grateful," Sirius echoed, not sounding grateful in the least, "but I still want to know why I look like a bloody First Year!"

"I don't know why you would complain," Snape said scathingly. "It's clearly an improvement. Your brain finally matches your body."

It took both Harry and Lupin to hold Sirius back.

"Think, Padfoot! It's the perfect disguise until things calm down a bit."

Sirius glared at him. "You're insane."

"Yes..." Snape rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You still haven't explained how you came to devise this... ingenious scheme, Lupin."

Lupin shrugged a little.

"Well?!" demanded Sirius. "What were you thinking, Moony?"

"I... I don't know. I..." He swallowed, looking resigned. "Lucius Malfoy sent me the first ten stones --"

"What stones?"

"The ones that change the direction of the Veil in the Department of Mysteries," Lupin said very quietly, looking anywhere but at Sirius.

"WHAT? Do you have any idea what you could have unleashed?"

"He unleashed you," said Snape. "That's bad enough. And what a perfect choice of words, Black."

"I bought the rest in Knockturn Alley," Lupin finished quietly.

"And dragged him with you." Snape glared at Harry, as though he thought it was as much Harry's fault as Lupin's.

He probably did think that.

"I... needed him. I couldn't have got inside half those shops myself. But I made sure he couldn't be accused of anything --"

Snape laughed.

"What?" Lupin asked, frowning.

Harry, wanting to soften the coming blow, said, "It didn't work out that way, but it's all right, I'm fine, and I might be even safer now than I was before."

All three of them stared at him like he'd grown two extra heads.

"What happened, Severus?" Lupin asked, turning to Snape. "They can't be accusing him of having something to do with all of this."

"I'm afraid they did accuse him of just that," Snape said mercilessly. "It was decided, by a hastily assembled Wizengamot, that he had performed the most forbidden and Dark magic there is. They hunted him down, and they killed him." He paused. "So they think, anyway. Another thing you should be thanking me for."

"But, I..." Lupin looked horrified and lost. "I didn't!"

"You had him purchase three of those damned stones, as well as an illegal time-warping device; what did you think was going to happen?"

Sirius looked accusingly at Lupin. "How could you involve James like this?"

"I DIDN'T!" Lupin looked from one to the other, and then pleadingly at Harry. "Tell them. Tell them what happened."

Harry, who had his hand in his pocket, curled around the crumpled receipt he had never thrown away, cringed and looked down.

Lupin groaned.

"Idiot. You should have known not to trust him with your plans," Snape said. Then, to Harry, "Well, what did you do?"

"I paid for the purchase," Harry admitted. "But," he continued defensively, "I thought he couldn't afford it! It was six hundred Galleons! He didn't have that kind of money!"

Lupin groaned again.

"So," said Snape, again sounding almost gleeful. "What a brilliant plan that was, Lupin. Care to enlighten us how you came upon it?"

Lupin swallowed hard. "I took a dose of Felix Felicis --"

"You what?"

Lupin sighed and looked down at his shoes again. "After Hogwarts was breached, I was the first one to arrive, and I was the one who found Horace... He had smashed everything in his lab... and he was so proud, I... I just couldn't let him find out he hadn't got to everything. I took the potions. I was going to send them back." He looked up at Snape. "I was, but I never got the chance, so I still had them. I took a dose before we left Grimmauld Place."

There was a short silence.

Then Sirius said incredulously, "The luckiest day of your life, and you landed us in Azkaban?"

"It... kept wearing off..."

"It kept wearing off?" Snape repeated mockingly. "Lupin, you're a werewolf."

Lupin's shoulders slumped.

"YOU DON'T NEED TO REMIND HIM!"

"Shut up, Black," Snape said. "What did you do when it wore off?"

"I... took more," Lupin admitted, his shoulders hunched. "I took all four bottles by the time I got into the Department of Mysteries."

Snape huffed, shaking his head. "Idiot."

"So what happened?" Harry asked, unable to stand it. "You got Sirius, and...?"

Sirius answered when Lupin just shook his head. "All I know is, Aurors grabbed us, and it was straight to Azkaban from there. I still thought it was the day you --" He glanced quickly at Harry, and didn't elaborate. "Uh... So I didn't know what was going on. They threw us in separate cells. And then he --" He glared at Snape. "-- came and poured one of his sick potions down my throat, and then Stunned me!"

"All very necessary," Snape said, looking as thought it had also been very pleasurable.

The two glared at each other with such intensity that Harry was sure curses couldn't be far off.

"Fine," Sirius ground out from between clenched teeth. "Thank you for your assistance, Snape, and do let me know if I can ever repay you. Now turn us back to normal so we can get out of this dump!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Snape said silkily. "For one thing, you have nowhere to go."

"He's right, Pad--"

"I have a house! Unlike YOU!"

"Not anymore," Snape said, smiling a very ugly smile. "Aurors brought it crumbling down two days ago, searching for him."

Harry's throat constricted. Another thing that was his fault. Now Sirius had lost his home... however much he'd hated it, and the Order had lost a secure meeting place.

Sirius' mouth gaped open, but he quickly shook off his shock. "Fine! Moony has a place!"

"Not anymore," Lupin said with a glum sigh. "Act 509, section C, paragraph --"

"I get it," Sirius said angrily. "Evil gits... I hate the lot of 'em. Fine. There's lots of people who'd be happy to help us hide out for a while. My cousin --"

"Dead," Snape said. "Along with her husband."

This did stun Sirius, and his eyes widened impossibly. "Nymphadora?" he asked faintly.

"Alive, but hardly in position to help you."

"No, of course not..." Sirius shook himself. "All right, Arthur will --" But he happened to look at Harry, and stopped. "What? No... not Arthur...?"

"I'm afraid so," Snape said. His face, which had twitched at the mention of Mr. Weasley, was neutral again. "Give it up, Black. We've already been over this with him." He indicated Harry, who wondered if Snape was going to keep calling him that. "No one can take you in. We've lost too many people."

Sirius, though looking somewhat defeated, still managed to sound defiant. "So, what are we supposed to do, Snape?"

Snape didn't answer him, and Sirius looked at Harry and Lupin. "Well? Is there a plan? One that doesn't involve living with this git?"

Lupin flinched. "Padfoot..."

"I'M NOT STAYING HERE!" Sirius roared, stomping his foot. "NO BLOODY WAY!"

"You will, and you will stop hollering like a lunatic," Snape said.

Sirius rounded on him. "Give me my wand, Snape. I'm getting out of here."

"Padfoot..."

"YOU can stay here, if you like!" Sirius yelled at him. "BUT I WON'T! SNAPE, GIVE ME MY DAMN WAND!"

"I haven't got your wand," Snape said, one eyebrow raised. "However, you may use my spare."

Sirius sputtered incoherently as Snape went over to the bookshelf and removed a wand from behind two thick tomes. He held it out to Sirius, who looked at it suspiciously.

"Well? Go on, try it out." Snape's voice was very silky, and Harry was filled with a strong feeling of apprehension. What was Snape doing?

Sirius took it, and flicked it experimentally a few times; then, more surely, flicked it toward the door.

A couple of sparks flew out of the end and fizzled out on their way down.

"Very funny," Sirius said, thrusting the wand back at Snape. "Now give me one that works."

Snape smiled. He flicked the wand, and an arc of yellow light hit the papers strewn across the floor, setting them on fire.

"Seems to me it works just fine."

"May I?"

Snape handed it to him, and Lupin flicked it a few times, frowning. The wand didn't work any better for him.

He stopped, still frowning in thought.

"Lumos."

A very faint light appeared at the end of the wand, and quickly faded.

"Wingardium Leviosa." Flicking the wand toward a bit of ash on the floor.

It floated up an inch or two before falling.

"What's going on?" Sirius demanded. "What's wrong with us?"

"Didn't read the fine print on your Dark device, did you, Lupin?" Snape said. He was still smiling nastily.

"What is the git talking about, Moony?"

Lupin swallowed, wincing. "I think our magic may have reverted to pre-pubescent level along with our bodies."

"Huh?" Harry said. "What do you mean?"

He took the wand Lupin offered him, but Sirius snatched it away.

"Lumos."

There was a very small spark of light, and it faded sooner than Lupin's had. Disgusted, he handed it back to Harry. "You try."

Harry did, with much the same results, while Lupin faltered through an explanation.

"I don't know if I'm right, but... If I'm right... we've lost our ability to direct magic. It's not a matter of knowing spells, of course, but a matter of being able to control and direct your innate magic. Children haven't got that control, much like very young children haven't got the fine motor skills to color in a picture within the lines. That's why our kind doesn't begin educating children in the use of magic until they're on the cusp of puberty. At around eleven, minor spells will work with some consistency. It explains why girls often are ahead of boys during the first years of school, but toward the end witches and wizards have about equal power, overall."

Sirius scowled at him. "So?"

"So... I don't think we'll be able to use magic while we're... like this."

Sirius turned his glare on Snape. "Snape, turn me back to normal at once, or --"

Snape laughed at him. "Or you'll what?"

Harry dropped the wand to help Lupin pull Sirius back.

Snape, ignoring the outburst, walked over the the cauldron on the table and peered inside.

"The fire went out a little before you got here," Harry said, now feeling guilty that he hadn't tried to save the potion.

Snape looked at him sharply. "Did you touch the potion?"

"No!" Snape was not going to blame this on him. "It went out by itself. I wasn't anywhere near it."

Snape scooped some of the goo with the ladle and brought it up to the light. "Hmm." He looked at Harry suspiciously. "Fine. But if you did anything to this potion, and someone dies as a result of taking it --"

"You mean it's not ruined?" Harry exclaimed in surprise.

"Then you did do something to it," Snape said, his lips thinning. "I knew it was too much to --"

"No! I never touched it. It was boiling like crazy, and I thought to stir it --"

"You what?!"

"BUT I DIDN'T!"

Snape still glared at him, but went back to poking at the potion. After a minute he pulled a bottle out of a cabinet and spooned the thick mass into it.

Harry felt sorry for anyone who had to drink that awful-looking stuff, but at least it seemed it wasn't ruined after all.

He realized he was breathing hard when Lupin put a hand on his back and rubbed it in a soothing circle.

"Git," muttered Sirius.

"I'm taking this over to the infirmary," Snape said. "The box over there has your breakfast and some clothing. Lupin, McKenna, make sure you keep that mutt under control." His eyes bore into Harry's as he emphasized the last word.

Sirius glared at Snape's back until the door had shut behind him. "Who the bloody hell is McKenna?"

"Me," Harry said with a sigh. "My new name."

Sirius rolled his eyes, scooped up the wand Harry had dropped, and headed across the room. "Come on. One of us should be able to work an Alohomora."

Harry exchanged a look with Lupin.

"Listen, Sirius..." Harry began, "the thing is... well, there really isn't any place we can go, or at least any place where we won't be a danger to anyone. Hogwarts is pretty safe, and --"

That was as far as he got. Sirius was glaring murderously at him, and Harry faltered and fell silent.

"What he means, Padfoot -- and he's absolutely right -- is that we're not going anywhere. We're going to stay here and wait it out."

"Wait what out?"

"The current situation is so bad because Fudge is still in power, which means someone is still pulling the strings --"

"Yeah," Sirius said scornfully, "probably your new best buddy, Lucius."

The insult seemed to have hit. Harry took over.

"We're -- that is, the Order is working on getting Fudge out --" He ignored the sharp look Lupin threw his way. "So it won't be very long. I want to stay at Hogwarts, and not take any more risks." He looked at Sirius with what he hoped was a pleading expression. "Please, Sirius. I don't want to run or hide anymore. Maybe we can just have a couple of weeks where we don't have to worry about that kind of stuff. Then, who knows? We might not have to hide at all. We can be a proper family, just like you always said we could be."

He could see Sirius melting slightly, and quickly went on.

"Say you won't go. You have no idea what it was like to lose you, and I can't go through it again. Please."

He knew he'd won a minor battle when Sirius hugged him. Lupin gave him a thumbs-up behind Sirius' back.

"All right. I guess I can wait and see, but if the git keeps getting on my case -- or yours -- we're outta here." He let Harry go and gave Snape's box a kick toward the center of the room. "Let's see what we have in here -- I'm starving."

They made a pretty good meal out of the bread, jam, cheese, fruit, and pumpkin juice, and Harry noticed that Sirius' mood went up the more he ate, and that Lupin was pushing more food onto his plate every time Sirius wasn't looking.

"We should change out of our clothing," Lupin said after they had finished eating. "I'm pretty sure real children wouldn't wear one of these." He pulled at his cardigan, which had been badly shrunk to fit him.

Sirius eyed the contents of the box. "I'm not putting those on."

"Why not?"

"Slytherin."

Harry took one of the robes when Lupin it held out. It did have a green lining and Slytherin crest on it.

Lupin was putting his on, ignoring Sirius' derisive sniffs, so Harry followed suit.

"Come on, Padfoot."

Sirius took the robes from Lupin and held them at arm's length as if they stank.

"Put them on."

With a great big sigh, Sirius took off his jacket and vest and put the robes on.

"Is Professor Snape having you stay in his spare bedroom?" Lupin asked Harry. "We will probably all be sleeping there together for now."

Harry shook his head, thinking of the empty, trash-filled room he had seen earlier. "I didn't sleep last night, so, no."

Lupin looked guilty, so Harry quickly amended, "I mean, I slept a little bit... on the couch. The room wasn't ready, anyway."

"Let's have a look."

Harry was saved from doing so by McGonagall's arrival. The Headmistress looked about as stern as Harry had ever seen her, but most of that seemed to be aimed at Sirius, not him. In fact, she hugged Lupin quite warmly.

"James, Milo, run along to the Great Hall. The children are watching a puppet show, and it would be prudent for you to be seen among them." She paused, her sharp gaze pinning Sirius. "Patrick and I have a few things to discuss."

Harry and Lupin left a scowling Sirius with McGonagall and left Snape's quarters.

"James."

Harry stopped. He had no choice --Lupin had him by the arm. "Yeah?"

"I'm so sorry."

Harry turned to look at him. He tried to smile, though it was a wobbly effort. "You've already said that, and it's okay. You got Siri--"

Lupin clamped his hand over Harry's mouth.

After a moment he slowly took it off. "Damn it. We're going to have to do something about this. I hadn't even noticed you could still call us --" He stopped and his eyes darted around, as if expecting a spy to be lurking around every corner. "That's exactly what we don't need."

"I'll be careful," Harry said. "Until we can get it taken care of. I think Snape--"

"Professor Snape," Lupin hissed, his hand jerking toward Harry again.

Harry looked at him oddly. "Everyone just calls him Snape, Milo. Even First Years. At least when he can't hear."

Lupin seemed to relax a little.

"Anyway, I think he can do it. He did it to himself, anyway... Who did the ones on you?"

"I did," Lupin said. "On Padfoot before he even woke up, and on myself and on --" He dropped his voice to a whisper. "Tonks and Kingsley."

"Too bad you can't still do it, because Snape and McGonagall both said it was a hard spell."

Lupin nodded. "Not really their area, I imagine. Let's not talk anymore... I think we should get going."

They reached the Great Hall and joined a throng of children heading toward a small stage set at the far end.

"Puppet theater?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. He'd never been to one. Dudley had once, and had called it ridiculous and boring and stupid.

But Lupin just shook his head, smiling.

A catchy tune started playing, and Harry sat back, determined to enjoy it if Lupin was.

It was stupid, really. He was pretty sure he would have found it to be so even at ten or eleven years old, but the younger children certainly seemed to be having fun.

The puppets chased each other across the stage, danced, sang, and performed silly magic tricks. It was lighthearted and for a while managed to make him forget where he was and what a muddled mess his life had become.

But the hour was over soon, and it was Draco Malfoy who stepped out from behind the puppet theater to bow before the applauding crowd, reminding Harry that no matter what he looked like now, he could never recapture his childhood.

He wasn't at Hogwarts to have fun. He was there to keep himself alive, and because it could help keep the people he cared about alive.

He understood Snape's words now. He had to be careful, and he had to use whatever influence he had to keep Sirius from being careless.

Because like it or not, he knew Snape had told the truth when he told them they had nowhere else to go, and, even more importantly in Harry's mind, neither did the children sitting around him now. If Harry and Lupin and Sirius were discovered at Hogwarts, it would be more than just their lives and Snape's on the line.

Once again, he found himself burdened by the realization that his very existence put others in jeopardy.

"What's wrong?"

Harry looked into Lupin's concerned eyes, and shook his head. "Nothing." Everything.

Lupin seemed to guess at least some of what Harry had been thinking. "Between the two of us, we'll keep him from doing anything stupid."

Harry smiled weakly. "Yeah, I guess."

"Come on, looks like everyone's going outside."

And they trooped outside with the other children, out onto the lawn where a picnic lunch had been set out for them. They ate and watched Malfoy and a few others toss a Quaffle high overhead.

Harry missed being up there. He would probably never play Quidditch again. Not a real game, anyway. Hogwarts wouldn't reopen that year, and it was uncertain whether he'd be able to return, even if it ever did.

"Thanks a lot for starting without me."

Harry jumped, and so did Lupin, as Sirius threw himself down on the grass next to them.

"Are you all right?"

Sirius gave Lupin a withering look. "You left me with that old hag."

Lupin looked scandalized, but Harry snickered. All right, it was rude and a terrible thing to say, but the way Sirius had said it....

"You wouldn't believe what she said to me," Sirius seethed. He tore a biscuit in half with his teeth and swallowed without chewing. "Is she married to Snape? She went at me like I was one of her students!"

"Shh," Lupin implored. "Keep it down."

Sirius just glared at him again. "Why should I keep it down? Am I supposed to pretend I'm happy to be Snape's fuckin' kid?"

Lupin pinched him. Hard.

"Ow," said Sirius, looking at him with a mixture of incredulousness and hurt. "What the hell?"

"There are children around you."

"Not close enough to hear." Sirius rubbed his arm, still looking at Lupin as though Lupin was a dog that had bitten him after he'd petted it on the head. "I don't understand what's with you two. No one could possibly be happy to be Snape's kid. No one will think it's even a bit odd that I'm not, so you two can just shut it."

They ate in silence for a few minutes.

"You're not happy to be Snape's kid, are you?"

The question was to Harry, and he looked up. Sirius still looked hurt.

"I'm not Snape's kid."

"Of course not," Sirius said, brightening.

Harry steeled himself. "But, yeah, I'm going to do my best to pretend it, because that will keep us safe. Everyone knows Snape hates me and I hate him, so I would think it would be safer to pretend we like each other."

Sirius opened his mouth, probably to inform Harry that he was crazy and a disappointment, but Lupin shoved another biscuit between his teeth before he could say a word.

Sirius chewed and glared.

"I think that's the right idea," Lupin said. "We'll be here for a while, and it would make things easier if we can at least be civil to each other. We're all on the same side."

"Next," Sirius said, swallowing finally, "you'll be telling me he's doing this out of the goodness of his heart." His brow furrowed darkly. "What I want to know is, what's in it for him?"

"If you must know," Lupin said, not looking at either of them, "I tricked him into making a promise to become James' guardian if there ever came a time when no one else was able to be. I paid him for it, too. So, if you want to blame someone...."

Sirius looked like he did blame him, but he didn't say anything for a long time.

"How much did you pay?"

"What?"

"How much. That's what I want to know."

Lupin shrugged uncomfortably. "Some book he wanted. I can't even remember the title now... the potion..."

"Oh, yes," Sirius said spitefully, "let's just blame the potion for everything."

Lupin's face flushed.

"There was also the dragon's blood," Harry reminded him. "Ten vials." He frowned. "What happened to the other two I bought?"

"I. Needed. Them." Lupin seemed to have his teeth clenched.

"Oh."

They didn't speak again for a long time.

"Are we still fighting?" Sirius asked. He looked slightly sorry.

"No," Lupin said shortly. "Not anymore."

"Good," Sirius said, apparently easily satisfied. "I'll get us some more juice."

He set off at a jog toward a table in the shade of a tree.

Harry glanced at Lupin. "Is... I mean, he seems a little... odd."

Lupin cringed a little, like he knew exactly what Harry meant, but threw it back at him. "In what way do you mean?"

"Well... I just don't remember him ever acting this... Oh, I don't know," Harry said, giving up. "Forget it."

"Acting like he really is ten years old?" Lupin said quietly.

"Well... yes."

Lupin drew a short breath. "I think you're right, but I don't think there's anything wrong with him. It's affecting him differently than it's affecting us -- being like this."

"Why?" Harry asked, wanting to understand.

"He had a terrible childhood, and Azkaban stole most of his adult life... I think he's been fighting all sorts of pressure and expectations ever since he got out. Trying to be what people expect in an adult man. What I see right now is what I recall from our school days." Lupin winced. "Not his best qualities coming out, really."

"But you think he'll be all right?"

That was worth another wince.

"If he survives the experience. I'm afraid..." Lupin shook his head glumly. "I'm afraid this is how Professor Snape remembers him, as well."

"Do you know why..." Harry hesitated. Snape had told him the night before that he didn't care to share his reasons. But he wanted to know. "Why he agreed to do this? Snape, I mean."

Lupin laughed softly, but it was a mirthless, pained laugh. "I'm afraid he agreed before knowing the facts. You see... he didn't know I'd been successful in getting Padfoot out until he came for me."

Harry stared at him, but Lupin was looking away, his gaze lost somewhere across the mist-covered lake.

He wanted to tell Lupin that he was wrong. Snape had known before then, or he wouldn't have given Harry the puzzling warning the previous night. And it seemed to him McGonagall must have known too, what with her 'bad blood' comment; that had been even earlier.

He struggled for a moment, torn between trying to make Lupin feel better and obeying Snape's wishes like he intended to try to do.

Sirius was making his way back to them with their drinks.

"We're not going to have a very easy time, are we?"

"No, I don't believe we are," Lupin agreed, sighing heavily. "Any of us."