Most dogs generally speaking, are docile, loving, and friendly. They would never harm a fly... Well, then again, maybe they might attempt to hurt a flea or an old house cat. Maybe even an old, wrinkly, blue-eyed, extremely powerful Hogwarts Headmaster...oh but no, certainly not a fly...

Dogs are also generally easy to train, yet it still remains a mystery to why they are not popular amongst wizards . Perhaps because all they can learn to do is "Sit" and "Stay." These two commands might have came in handy for Remus Lupin to have his spunky pup know. Unfortunately, some canines aren't so easily handled... especially the big black ones. Especially the dogs that happened to really be wizards just like one Animagus that goes by the name of notorious Sirius Black. Many would have called this so called "dog" barking mad, and this is literally speaking of course....

"WHERE IS MY GODSON?", barked Sirius as he swiftly changed from a beast into a man. His characteristics were still unmistakably canine-like as he continued to flash his pearly white teeth at his new audience.

Not many seconds passed by before a thin, slenderly-built Remus Lupin strode into the infirmary after Sirius as quickly as his tired legs could carry him. He was exhausted, and more so than usual due to the monthly effects of the full moon. An enormous toll had been taken on his body after his transformations from man into wolf and so undergoing such an unpleasant situation only two nights ago was baffling. Especially for him to discover just how much energy he could muster up to chase after Sirius.

"Padfoot, please... let's be... reasonable here!", panted the man exhaustedly from the run while being in all high hopes that Sirius would, and for once in his troublesome life, just bloody listen to him.

"It may not be what it looks like," he added in quickly catching his breath, but not even he could believe his own words no matter how hard he wanted himself too. Everything was exactly what it looked like from here, and it wasn't pleasing either of the two remaining Marauders members.

"WHERE IS HE? WHERE IS--" but Sirius was cut off by a familiar hand from a familiar old man. The meddlesome Headmaster raised his other hand to silence Sirius and with a voice light enough to ease a dragon's rage, spoken to the younger.

 "My boy, please..." said Dumbledore, dressed down in elegant purple robes, who appeared to be  plagued...but Sirius, well....

Remus mused to himself that it looked like his friend had been hit with some bizarre coloring curse when his cheeks began to sport a flashy red hue. Funny that the scene had reminded Remus of a time when he and the rest of the marauders had turned one of their Professor's skin color maroon. Remus himself, would be the brainstormer behind such devious plans, but James and Sirius would be the ones to put their wands to the cause. They three of them (four really if you counted that betrayful rodent) were always constantly getting away with pure murder after performing such pranks on their peers, especially on the Slytherins.

"DON'T YOU EVEN DARE!" erupted the explosion coming from within the frantic man's throat. Remus latched both of his fragile hands onto Sirius' stockier shoulders in a poor attempt to hold him back.

"Sirius..." he warned as he spoke calmly into his friend's ear, "You're temper isn't helping this situation..."

Nevertheless, the Animagus wasn't caring that he was blowing a casket over what was still unknown. He snarled dangerously at the Headmaster as he transfixed his dark eyeballs onto the older one's dazzling blues. Remus could barely stop his hand from quivering as he witnessed a deadly snarl form on the other's lips.

"Not now, Mooney" barked the dog without sparing his friend a single glance.

More like 'not ever' and Remus scuffed at such a thought; How could he assume that his best mate was going to listen to him? Certainly this would be a first if the stubborn man decided upon this act! Remus placed a sweaty palm on his forehead to swab away the tiny droplets of sweat that have been accumulating bellow his swollen, sunken eyes. Ignoring the pangs of exhaustion that were plaguing his body, his primal intentions were to ignore them in order to restrain Sirius.

Then with a heavy heart (and a heavy, tired frame of mind) he reconsidered only to decide that he might as well allow his wild black dog run a muck until he could regain his strength.  After all, it would be undeviatingly impossible put a leash on the beast in some sad effort to control it. Yet this particular beast was no monster really but a man with a heart too big for his body. Indubitably, yes, his friend could be more thick headed than a troll at times, but at least he has good intentions. All and all, Sirius has always been a man known for taking action for what he dearly believed in, even despite how often he would act irrationally through such motives.

It had to be frustrating both of them to know of something so tragic had occurred and  have no idea how it could. For all that Remus knew, who was to blame Sirius for boiling over? Being forced to go into hiding could really put a strain on a wizard, especially a godfather of the Boy-Who-Lived. Remus, being more logically advanced than the other, had disagreed with his friend's not- too-clever decision. Choosing to go out into the open was a huge risk, Sirius could easily get caught and sent back to Azkabam. That or worse; the Dementor's Kiss could surely be arranged.

Remus trusted his friend enough to know that Sirius knew better, and that he would not take a risk that tremendous. But Harry needed them now more than ever, and Sirius would risk it all just to make sure that his godson was safe.

Mooney's spine suddenly became lots stiffer thinking about what had just happened to James' son, and Sirius' notorious question was enough to make a shiver run down his backbone all the same.

"Where is he, Dumbledore."

It was a simple question really, and there should of been a simple answer as well. Remus was an intelligent man, he knew he could put the puzzle pieces together if he put his mind to it. Unfortunately the way that Dumbledore was looking at them was making his stomach drop fifty feet. There was a piece missing from this puzzle for sure. One was able to conclude right off the thicket that something was very, seriously off.

'Where is Harry? What else does Albus know that we don't?'

His friend was clawing madly at his robe for his pocketed wand and Remus knew that at the rate they were going, they were never going find out what happened to Harry. Let alone would they get to see him.

"Padfoot" tried Remus again cautiously as he squeezed the man's shoulder as an attempt to grab his attention, "Sirius, maybe we should hear what the Headmaster has to say..."

But he didn't have to say a thing. Sirius Black pointed an accusing finger at the old man before them all and fixed his commencing gaze back to Mooney. His long, messy hair fell over his face in the same fashion as what it had done throughout all of his years locked up in Azkabam. Strangely enough, the deranged man looked like the psychopath everyone in the wizarding world claimed him being. Not only did he look like he was going barmy, but Sirius was also wild enough to hex the next thing that moved. More importantly: he was ravenous for revenge.

"I don't care..." panted Sirius heavily, "...what he has to say..."

Remus sighed to himself as he clasped the other's shoulder more roughly than before, but Padfoot remained aloof to his touch. The grizzly, wild fringes fell over his graying eyes which glinted in pure madness. It was remarkable how Dumbledore remained so unnerved by the situation, yet seemed to be incredibly remorseful all the same. Remus, as tired and worn out as he was, grew noticeably more jitterier as the minutes passed by. Dread couldn't even begin to describe what Remus was feeling at the moment.

Dumbeldore's old blue irises sparkled behind the trademark half moon spectacles, "I do assure you both that Harry is in fact, unharmed," began the Headmaster slowly with a sincere smile planted wryly across his face.

Remus dropped his shoulders in relief but at the same time felt great tension building up inside the room. Everything felt rigid, his enhanced hearing was able to pick up the staggered breathing being emitted by his best mate who was looking ready to commit a murder that he was unjustly charged for. Remus watched in amazement as Sirius' face churned from a deep, lavish red color to one that was starch white and chalky. His body was trembling, his eyes were as wide as dinner plates, and his cheeks were so pinched inside his mouth that they were most likely gushing out blood.

"You..." growled Padfoot in a maliciously low voice, "You're full of lies, Dumbledore."

Behind the controlled exterior of the Headmaster was a hint of uneasiness. This stuck Remus hard as he noticed that Professor McGonagall shifted her stance as if she too knew more than they. The abrupt halt of the clinking of calming draft vials alerted both men that Poppy was disturbed as well. Remus stared wide eyed at Dumbeldore and at the rest of the staff that was in the room. Having had glanced anxiously from the Headmaster to Professor McGonagall to Madam Pomfrey in an absolute questioning way, Remus could only wonder what transpired before hand.

Sirius wasn't done yet either as his chest continued to heave up and down rapidly from his previous antics. Small beads of sweat were forming on the top of his head and trickling down to his steel gray eyes.

"Tell me, headmaster..." continued Sirius as those provoked orbs shifted over momentarily to an overly, heart-wrenched Remus, "If I haven't encountered my house elf any sooner..."

The room grew quieter, and even Remus didn't have any words of comfort that could counter the shocking discovery that was made only mere moments ago back at headquarters. Sirius was speaking for both of them now.

"Would you have told us?" interrogated the man, "Harry is all Remus and I have left of James and Lily, and if anything-" but Sirius couldn't bring himself to say what he wanted to. All his body could do was quake in anger, fear, and too many other raw emotions which were becoming more increasingly impossible to pinpoint.

But the words were not lost, for Intelligent Mooney was able to fill in the blanks...'If anything ever happened to that boy...'

Oh! Remus wouldn't be able to take it or think about it without feeling sick to his stomach. He would be at such an enormous loss if he lost Harry--both he and Sirius would be.

Remus had many terrible regrets though, almost as many as Sirius had for not being there prior to Harry's third year. It just so happened that placing a baby, (especially if that baby happened to be the boy-who-lived) in the care of a werewolf during that time wasn't the best idea in the book. Remus would have eagerly taken the boy in gracefully if it was legal, but werewolves by law weren't allowed to have children unless under certain circumstances and Magical Research according to the Ministry of Magic. Harry would have had to be cared for by a non-werewolf guardian as well, and so this made it impossible. Sirius was sent off to Azkaban during that time and Remus did not necessarily "meet" anybody who would of been able to play the part as a "mother" to Harry. Even now, if he actually did happen to meet someone during such a later point in his life it would be way too late. Not for nothing, but Harry is a young man of fifteen.

The situation had jerked Remus out of such fantasy.

"Kreacher has alerted us about Harry's state, Headmaster," offered Remus with a heavy heart and a voice containing more malice than he intended.

He frowned in displeasure, silently recalling what had occurred before. Remus had been on his way to leave Number 12 Grimmald place when all of a sudden, a loud crashing noise and an enraged holler echoed through the hallways. Caught by surprise, he had spun around to find a raving Sirius Black dragging his house elf down the stairs by the ear. Remus was even more shocked when the man had failed to acknowledge him in the room and instead, started to strangle the miserable creature up against a wall. Rushing over to Sirius, he had succeeded in calming his friend before he had the opportunity murdered the pathetic thing. The good deed, however, undone him in the end. It was such a mishap to have to suffer at his own expense, only to discover the cause to what was driving the other man completely bonkers.

The discovery was as cut dry as bread: Harry was in trouble and they weren't going to be told a thing about it.

Sirius snapped his eyes open at his friend's statement and glowered with pure frustration. "...Alerted us? Mooney, you must be going mad! I had to strangle that piece of filth before I even got a damn word out of him."

Remus sighed and gave his friend a reproving look before turning back to the other, "What Sirius means, Headmaster, is that Kreacher was very... vague on the details about what happened to Harry in which we would like to know more about."

Remus cocked his head suspiciously at the wise old man, and from doing so, became aware that Dumbledore knew way more than he was letting on. Remus was tired, so very tired, but his mind was crazed with worried thoughts. Never mind his previous wails about Harry being all they had left, they themselves were all the boy had left as well!

"And you will momentarily be given that information, my dear boys," nonchalantly replied Dumbledore who was now turning to Professor McGonagall with his hands clasped merrily together.

Their old Transfiguration Professor who was also the Head of Gryffindor, kept glancing repeatedly at the clock hanging over head. It read a quarter to ten precisely, and because it was so late Poppy had also dimmed down the lights considerably until they were all engulfed in darkness. The little medi-witch then returned to the group with a tray of calming drafts and other potions.

"Minerva, if you wish to be excused from further discussion you have my permission. I understand that you do have other important matters to take care of. I will have Poppy or Severus alert you of any further changes to Harry's condition."

Remus' drooping eyes snapped open with confusion and great interest.

'Snape is here too? And... wait...what condition?'

He then inclined his head around the Headmaster to catch sight of a man melting away into the darkness of the room. Dressed down entirely in those infamous black robes, with cold tunnel black eyes, and greasy black curtains for hair, was Severus Snape. Characteristically, the wizard was away from the group and standing off by himself in the background. Remus, however, wasn't looking entirely at Snape as it wasn't he who caught his eye, but, at what the man was standing next to; a very messy, unmade infirmary bed.

"His condition?" inquired Remus curiously as he turned back to Dumbledore thinking that he hadn't heard correctly.

 He then looked around to all of the staff for answers, minus Minerva who had flooed herself back to her office. His eyes even glanced back at the aloof Severus Snape who he spotted lurking in the shadows of the infirmary. Merlin, what a mistake that was. He had suffered an unpleasant sensation instead of a response from the man. For the moment that their gazes interlocked dreary chills zoomed up Remus' spine immediately from such penetrating orbs. They were ones that gave him no lead way to what was going on, and thus were no help to the exhausted man. He could sense that the snarky Potions Master didn't want to give away anything, and it was frustrating enough as it was that Remus didn't have a single clue about what happened to Harry.

The Headmaster lifted up his chin and nodded slowly, "Yes, his condition," confirmed Dumbledore solemnly. Remus felt his stomach sink lower into his aching guts as the old man continued.

"It seems that our young Harry has had an accident in Professor Snape's office before his Occulumency lesson. He now has no memory of the incident, nor does he know who we are or where he is. I do not believe that the poor boy can even recall his own name, so if you two will kindly take caution approaching him--"

Of course Sirius didn't allow Dumbledore to finish speaking as he launched himself forward and broke away from Remus' flaky grip. Sorely believing that his friend was going to attack the old headmaster, Remus flung himself after Sirius to try to stop him before...

"SIRIUS!" he bellowed trying desperately to hold back his friend's antics, but the dog had ignored Remus and bitterly whipped out his wand instead.

 However, it wasn't Dumbledore who the seething man was after. Certainly not! Remus' wolfish eyes widened in surprise as he watched in horror as Sirius pushed past the Headmaster and headed straight towards the back of the room. There he headed towards a certain man, one who was dressed in black robes. It was a certain Head of Slytherin who remained standing next to a certain unmade bed, one with white sheets belonging to a certain somebody...

Remus dropped both arms in defeat as he thought back to what Dumbledore had just told them. His mind was racing now, yet nothing was adding up.

An accident...a condition...memory loss...

Suddenly everything was clear as Remus failed to suppress his shock. A few mumbled words could barely be heard from his parched thin lips as he squinted his eyes enough to see a mop of black hair huddling behind Snape's darker form.

Could it be?

But Sirius didn't see the boy there...

His mouth was bone dry; he needed water, in fact he needed to sit down as he was feeling so faint that he thought he might pass out.

"Sweet Merlin...Harry..."

........

A Potions Master's excellent hearing always comes in handy for crucial moments such as these. The corners of Severus' lips twitched up in glee as he heard the dumbstruck Lupin mumble through his awe. The werewolf looked shocked to the core in fact; more likewise as if something bizarre had smacked him squarely in his chest. Being able to tell that Lupin had finally figured it out that Potter was hiding from them all in fear, Severus could not swallow his pride. What a pity that it was too late for his old nemesis to finally discover what was going on.

'And this was one of Gryffindor's brighter students...' Sarcastically thought Severus as he observed the mangy werewolf from a far.

Then suddenly his individual attention was drawn away from the flabbergasted werewolf when he felt a slight tugging on the back of his lengthy, bellowing black attire. Without moving a muscle, the Potions Master averted his cold, calloused eyes downward at the source of such pulling. From the corners of his pupil he could see that the mindless Potter was no longer standing up cowering from behind Severus like he previously had been doing. The senseless boy was now kneeling down, curled up into a tight ball on the floor, and was disparately clenching onto Severus' adorning black robes as if his life depended sorely upon it. He then grasped them harder, tugging them in downward motion similar to that of a child demanding to be held. The boy, to Severus' greatest discomfort, was attempting to wrap himself underneath his black attire to seek comfort.

"Potter, I highly suggest you make an effort to contain yourself at once," scolded Severus in a voice that was deadly calm. Reinforcing the reprimand, the Potions Master narrowed his bleak eyes terribly and roughly yanked the robe away from the child's grip.

Potter, or rather "the child", looked like he was at a loss with himself as he gazed, dazedly with great betrayal written all over his young face. Snape's lips were drawn in a fine, thin line as he tried to hide the frown that was forming from watching the boy cringe in such fear.

How strange was this that Potter was so... attached to him. It was atypical nature of a Potter and as the offspring of one, it should have been forbidden for the child to console in Severus the snarky Potions Professor that was reviled by many. In Potters right mind (or at least as right as his pea brains could allow) this boy would never go looking for comfort in his most hated Hogwarts Professor no matter what the cost was. This, of course, was why it was so strange...even with Potter's proclaimed loss of memory for such a bond to occur at all.

It would seem that Potter, the one who Severus had belittled for the past five years, would have rather chosen death over trying to find safety behind his worst enemy's back. What was even more bizarre and completely absurd about the whole situation was that the boy had--within the crevices of his own mind--somehow remembered that Severus was "Snape."

Severus had to admit it, but even he was a little caught off guard by Potter's unexpected outburst.

Yet, something was still completely off about the little brainwave that the boy had likely experienced. Potter had frantically called out Severus' name as if he was under attack. The way he had called him "Snape" was alarming and well...not very like Potter at all. His eyes were blazing in fear instead of that unconquerable, detestable courage that was normally there. Then there was the immediate need of protection which Potter displayed better than an abused puppy. At first Severus was angry at the boy. He had been absolutely livid believing that Potter was going out of the way to try to embarrass him. After Severus concluded that perhaps the child had been gaining back some memory after all, he had hoped that Potter had actually remembered more than that Severus was "Snape."

Oh, but how he thought wrong...so very very wrong.

.......

Sirius' haunted expression was restored back to a flushed crimson red color as he approached his childhood enemy at an alarmingly fast speed. His livid expression held nothing but pure loathing for the snarky, greasy-haired git.

"Snivellus" glowered Sirius with much hatred intended as he raised his wand.

With keen canine instincts, he watched Snape intensely as the man's lanky fingers disappeared into the dark robes. The sodding Potion's Master that Sirius had grown to hate over the progressing years smoothly removed his own wand from his pocket just as predicted.

"I should have suspected that you had something to do with this!" roared Sirius again at the hooked nosed man who had counted him by raising a single distinctive eyebrow.

On the downside, Snape appeared rather too smug for his own good.

 "Is that so, Black?" challenged the man with a pronounced sneer, "Why not blame the godfather who was...ahh yes...hand picked from the litter of marauder mutts by the infamous James Potter to insure the survival of his pup?"

Leave it to Snape to be vindictive as always...

Sirius let out a vicious growl and flashed his fangs once more. During this he continued to endlessly resisted the urge to transform into the beast he just was in order to be able rip the egoistic grin off of Snape's appalling features. Unbearable heat then began to prickle on the back of the man's sweltering neck as his fingers twisted around his wand eagerly  ready to throw any Unforgivable curse at the slimy bastard across from him.

Snape didn't seem to mind Black's flaring form, however, as he lifted up his chin in triumph. Letting out a chuckle Snape's sly comment prevailed to sting effortlessly.

 "Or was the responsibility too much for you to handle?" whispered the man sleekly to an enraged Sirius.  "Seeing how blatantly irresponsible you are for your own doltish actions it is really no surprise that your godson got into enough mischief to erase every single pathetic memory that he held so dear of you and your werewolf friend."

After that sneered out comment, Sirius was ready to hex the git to hell. How dare he talk about Harry in such a matter and how dare that greasy bastard talk ill about Remus!

That hooked nosed, overgrown bat of the dungeons seriously had it coming to him now, and that was for sure!

"I've warned you, Snivillus.." Sirius snarled, "I've warned you before that if anything happens to Harry, you will have me to answer to."

Sirius was shaking now, he wasn't sure if it was from his seething anger being directed at Snape and his lousy insults or from his overbearing concerns for his godchild who he still did not yet see. At the moment, he couldn't decide on which emotion he was feeling more of, but as his eyelashes flashed maliciously at Snape the decision became suddenly very easy for him...Too easy in fact...

"I'll do anything to insure that Harry is safe, and that means safe from you!"

He flushed an even deeper crimson color, almost purple as he raised his wand higher and aimed it squarely at Snape's enormous hooked beak.

"And I mean anything," enforced Sirius as he glared deadly daggers at his nemesis.

 And just as the muggles say..if looks could kill Snape would have dropped dead in the matter of seconds and then would proceed to burst into a heap of flames. Of course naturally, and to Sirius' dismay, the Slyterin man had remained perfectly untouched by the threat.

Although his enemy did seemed rather unshaken by the situation set in front of his enormous enlarged beak, there was still certainly something abnormal that Sirius could detect stirring around Snape's insides. For only a split second, his enemy's charcoal, bleak eyes which were normally as hard as stone had glinted in sudden alarm.

'So I did happen to frighten the coward, after all'. Figured Sirius with a smirk, 'The sniveling bastard...'

Standing up tall, it was now his turn to bask himself in victory at what was won, but Snape nonchalantly waved his accomplished expression away with a free hand. The look of unease faded as quickly as it arrived which gave Sirius no time to pick open at the tortured man's old wounds.

"How very touching," commented Snape dryly, "However, it is... imaginable to find that your words hold little veracity Black, because as narrow minded as you are, I find it impossible that you are capable of doing anything...." Snape's tone was deadly as he put deliberate stress on the next words.

 "To me...for the Order..." the corners of Snape's lips curled up in amusement, "Or even for your precious godson. That is of course, considering the quite pathetic little situation you've gotten your sorry self into."

Sirius' already reddened face flushed deeper from the embarrassment as Snape's words stung him sour.

"Bullocks!" Sirius rebuked angrily, "We all know that your situation is far more pathetic than mine... isn't that so Snape?" snarled Sirius with a vicious grin. His was so livid that he could barely speak without making his words bite, "You. and Voldemort. must be getting on pretty well together, aren't you? Death Eater."

Now it was Snape's turn to be embarrassed. Those high, very pronounced cheekbones flushed a lovely light pink. Sirius chuckled maliciously at the sight of the other and spoke to him in a taunting voice that was not much louder than a mere whisper.

"So how many casualties today, Ol Snivley? Five, ten...fifteen maybe? Perhaps Harry was going to be one of them. I bet your master is going to be anything but pleased with you that you've failed him."

The greasy-haired man crossed his arms against his chest and emitted a very low but audible growl. His impenetrable eyes narrowed in scrutiny at the other.

"Careful, Black," warned Snape. Now it was Sirius who raised an eyebrow.

He didn't even bother to lower his wand seeing that Snape too was already in attack mode. Remus called out his name once again and pleaded for him to back down. Sirius,  just as always, had ignored his friend even though he was fully aware that 'enough was enough' for Remus.

"C'mon Padfoot. Are we here to get in a row with Snape or are we here to see Harry?"

Then it hit him. Hard. His eyes widened at mentioning of the boy's name. It was James' son, his godchild. If Sirius had been in his Anamigus form he would have whimpered aloud after hearing it.

Harry...

"I'm done playing games with you, Snape. I suggest you start telling me where my godson is. That or else I'll take matters into my own hands," Sirius said stepping forward so that he and Snape were now squaring each other up.

Both wands were still pointing at the other's chest. Sirius watched in glee as Snape had to tilt his head slightly back so that he could meet his eyes. Sirius did in fact, have a few good inches on his opponent. However, to his own dismay this fact didn't seem to faze Slytherin's Head of House at all.

"Alright, Black," said Snape with a devious grin, "I'll tell you where your precious Potter is."

The Potion's Master looked as if he knew when the world was going to end...for Sirius that is... A wave of panic could not be any more apparent as he cocked his head to the side and glared at his childhood enemy very suspiciously.

What is Snape up to?

This man was not one to be trusted, and Sirius still to this day could not believe why Albus felt honored to have him in the Order. What did the greasy-haired bastard ever do to deserve such trust from such a powerful wizard like Dumbledore? Snape was originally Voldemort's lackey of all things. How was it so easy for him to reform? Snivillus Snape, Dumbledore's man or Voldemort's servant? It didn't make sense at all nor did it add up. The thought alone of Snape being "trustworthy" made Sirius have the sudden desire to vomit.

The man's eyes lit up with interest as he saw Snape appearing more pretentious than he normally did. Something just wasn't right.

"I find it a shame though that you remarkably failed to realize that Potter..." started Snape with a twisted smirk, "...happens to be right in front of your very nose."

With those few words said, Snape glanced over his shoulder and caused Sirius to absentmindedly perked up intrigued. Then, as if it was a curtain call, the Potion's Master stepped casually to the side only to reveal a hunched figure of that of a teenage boy.

This "boy" was clutching furiously at Snape's billowing black robes. This "boy" was hiding behind him like that of a wounded animal. This boy...it just can't be...

Sirius pocketed his wand right away after seeing that this cowering form was no other than the child he was seeking.

Oh but it is...

Sirius knew that that black, messy clump of hair could only belong to one child. Actually, now that he thought about it, that hair could have belonged to two children. This particular black raven colored hair once belonged to his best mate James, but it wasn't him for he was in a better place now... it had to be the other child...and it was!

"Harry!" exclaimed Sirius in relief, yet something was still keeping him uneasy and well on the edge of the cliff that he felt like he had just climbed just to see his godchild.

Sirius was still unsure. He didn't want to believe that Harry didn't know who he was. Perhaps if he tried to jog the boy's memory a little bit first he would remember. Harry  didn't dare to look up as he called out his name. Instead, the boy who Sirius was so certain was his Harry, buried his face deeper into the black robes of his old childhood nemesis, Snape.

Well this is new... thought Sirius as his stomach contorted in nervous twitches. Even if Harry had lost his memory, why would he be latched onto Snape and not onto him? After all he is the nicer one out of the two.

Something isn't right...but...

Did it really matter?  Sure Harry was clinging onto Snape as if his life depended on it, but he is alive. He was unharmed, safe and in the land of the living and as long as he was, everything was going to be okay... right?

Harry was just a little frightened from what had happened, right? He didn't really lose all his memories... right?

But of course he had...

"Harry?"

The boy was almost kneeling on the floor as he held onto dear Snape's fabrics. Sirius ignored the man who he so blindly hated completely, as he cautiously moved closer to his godson not intending to startle him but wanting him safe in his arms nonetheless. However, from the looks of it, the boy didn't want that.

Then suddenly it mattered.

"Harry, it's me! It's Sirius!"

Everything mattered because something was terribly wrong with everything. Harry wouldn't acknowledge him; yes, he knew the memory wasn't there but the boy wouldn't spare him even a single glance! The worst of it was that his best mate's son was literally clinging onto Voldmort's most trusted Death Eater follower like a life source. Everything was spinning upside down and inside out and Sirius couldn't help but wonder what the wizarding world was coming to. Perhaps Snape would shampoo his hair next! and then what? Maybe Remus would transform into a white, fluffy rabbit the next time the full moon is aroused!

"Harry... Do you hear me, Harry?"

He was trying to remain calm, but Sirius Black wasn't known for his tranquility. Instead of producing a relaxing air in front of his oblivious godchild, he flew into a frenzy. Without much thought about what was going on, he had then lowered himself and reached out to grab Harry's shoulder.

The boy's reaction was uncalled for as he snapped up his head from his knees and spun around acting as if he was going to be killed at any second. He let out an unexpected gasp of surprise and then had shyed away from Sirius' touch as if he had been poisoned.

Harry's white knuckles released his protector's robes at once as Sirius was hoping he would do, but only to his confusion did the boy retreat to the other side of the room away from them all. More importantly, away from him. He was standing up against the wall, wide eyed, and with glasses askew on his pale face stared at Sirius like he done years ago before they've met and when Harry first presumed him as a murderer.

Sirius was even more confused when Snape actually snapped at him for touching Harry. Yes, for touching his own godchild! Since when had Snape become so concerned for the son of James Potter?

"Black! How incredibly thick-headed are you? Potter is delirious, caution was advised. Although, I can assume you are worse off than the child is as you continue to ignore the fact that Potter has lost his mind, you dunderhead!" unkindly snapped the irritated Professor. The man then proceeded to annihilate Sirius with a hard, cold glare that was normally reserved for his students.

"The Headmaster's warnings shall not be taken lightly."

Lightly? All Sirius wanted was for his godchild to acknowledge his existence without fear. Was there a crime in that? "Oh what do you know, Snape!" lashed out Sirius nastily, "It's not like you care about Harry anyway."

But as Sirius silently dared for Snape to comment, he did nothing of the sort. No, to the man's own confusion, his enemy was no longer staring at him with malice in his eyes. Instead the expression had swiveled into something that he, Sirius was unprepared to see. Callous, penetrating black orbs had snapped all attention back onto the cowering child, Sirius' godson. However, what the man saw in those normal impassive eyes was not quite right, it was like something had changed there, and that "something" was what Sirius had dreaded seeing from Snape since he was a boy....

That perhaps something human actually existed there all along.

.................

Emerald green eyes contacted with dark yet swirling black ones as he tried to tell the Man-in-Black, Snape, to help him. The Dog-Man was talking very harshly to "his" Snape and right away the boy knew that he couldn't trust this strange man. This boy wasn't sure what else he could do to make him go away other than huddle up against the wall.

"Harry, it's me Padfoot! Your Godfather Sirius Black! Don't you remember me? Snuffles? What about Buckbeak? Don't you remember him? "

The Dog-Man was speaking softly to him now and this was also confusing. Also, this man was calling him "Harry" and not "Potter" like Snape had called him before. This was confounding as well. What was even more odd about this man was that he would start fighting with the Man-in-Black and then he would start talking nicely to the boy. "Harry" didn't know what to make of this Sirius Black. The Dog-Man looked so distraught and defeated, yet angry and sour after the boy shook his head, indicating no and that he did not remember him. Harry (or Potter was it?) could not recall any man named Padfoot nor that he had a Godfather named Sirius Black no matter how hard he tried too.

And this was scaring him...

"Oh Harry...Harry I..." the stranger's face which was so lost, had scrunched up in frustration, "I'm not going to hurt you. I promise."

But the promise wasn't enough for Harry, and to make this known he had recoiled away from the Dog-Man like a snake as the out stretched hand of the other reached for him.

"You can trust me. We're buddies you and me...you rescued me in your third year from the dementors, surly you must remember," tried the man Sirius, pleading with hope; his voice was slowly diminishing into nothing as Harry showed no signs of recognition.

Shaking his head again, Harry pressed his back harder against the back wall. Tears of terror were stinging his eyes and were screaming at the stranger to leave him be, alone, and with Snape. He couldn't trust him, the strangeness was just too much to handle. Surely, no man on Earth who had the ability to change from a black beast into a man could ever be trusted. Harry couldn't go by these promises from such a stranger.

The Dog-Man went very quiet suddenly as if he too knew that his attempts to get closer to Harry were in vain. The man lifted up a hand to try to reach out again but Harry's eyes told him to stay away.

Far away....

He told him with his eyes just as he done before when he asked Snape to help him. The boy, panic stricken, and very much afraid, pressed his back further into the wall imagining that he could just melt away into its hard surface. Behind the Dog-Man who looked as if he had just been torn into shreds, stood the Man-in-Black who was intently watching the scene with a hint of glee in his expression. The White-Bearded-Man was coming up behind Harry's savior; however his face was frowning in disappointment.  The Shaggy-Man and the Little-Lady stood off to the side with glass vials in both of their hands.

Harry watched every movement that the strangers made, especially the White-Bearded-Man who was dressed down in lavish purple robes, a matching purple pointed hat on top of his head, and half moon specs that traced the wrinkles around his blue eyes. Luckily, this old man seemed to want to help him as he cleared his throat sensing that the boy was distressed.

"Sirius, young Harry here has had a rough night. For the child's welfare I highly suggest that for the meantime, we leave him be with Severus and Madam Promfey to see to his proper care. I promise that there will be plenty more opportunities to visit once the boy has recovered some. "

The Dog-Man swiveled his head to the side, the flame inside him was gone. His eyes looked dead and his voice was no longer violent as it was before when he was screaming at the White-Bearded-Man and at Snape.

"I'm done taking your suggestions, Dumbledore," said the Dog-Man in a voice that was dull and zombie like, "I just don't give a damn what you or anyone else thinks. He's my godson."

Harry, still pressed up against the wall, wrinkled up his forehead clearly overwhelmed by what was going on around him. Then the boy watched in amazement as the Shaggy-Man then rounded on the Dog-Man at a lightning fast speed. To Harry's own surprise and to that of the rest of the strangers' in the room, the Shaggy-Man grabbed firmly onto the other man's broad shoulders and had forcefully spun him around. With a strength that seemed to come out of nowhere from this tattered man's weak appearance came a vicious wolf like snarl.

"Padfoot! Enough! Stop being such a sodding git and just listen for once, you stubborn fool. Just listen will you? "

This Padfoot gazed at the other in shock as his face paled multiple shades whiter than it already was. Stunned, the Dog-Man's face drew a blank but then suddenly it had flushed a sheepish smile. The man's eyes were now smiling playfully as well as he clasped the other on the back. Being physically smaller then the Dog man, the shaggy clad had flinched from the contact, which led to him rubbing at his newly sore shoulder.

"Well why didn't you just say so, Mooney," teased Sirius with a silly grin, "Dogs have a great sense of hearing do they not?"

Even though Harry had no idea who these two men were, he could see that they were best mates. From the looks of it, the two of them seemed like they have been friends forever. But why did they called each other different names? previously Harry thought they were; Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. Now they were Padfoot and Mooney!??! The boy wondered for a moment if he himself was more than just "Harry" or "Potter." Did he have such nicknames like they did? The Shaggy-Man called 'Mooney' or rather 'Remus' then narrowed his gaze at his comrade only to let out a deep sigh as he cocked his head to the side. With an expression much lighter than before, as Harry noticed, had still retained much sourness.

"Well then you are the most deafened mutt that i've ever encountered in my life, and a complete berk on that note...", retorted the man in a friendly form of sarcasm.

Sirius picked up on the hint, grinned and chuckled softly, "You're a flattering one, mate, that you are." but then he suddenly became serious. His voice was low and full of gloom and hopelessness. The change in character was a shock to the unknowing child.

"Remus," said Sirius in a voice barely audible for the boy to hear, "He isn't our Harry."

There was sadness, and much of it. Why was he so sad? Why couldn't he, Harry...or Potter... understand anything? Were these two men blaming him for not being their Harry because he wanted to hide in the darkness instead? Is this why the Dog-Man tried to attack him? Was it because the boy wasn't answering the banging doors in his mind? Was this why he kept staring at Harry distastefully when he was tugging on Snape's robes? Questions, he had so many of them but the answers were still locked away inside his mind just waiting to be found.

The boy's throat became dry as bone from misuse as he opened it to attempt to say something intelligible that would matter to them. Wanting to say a bunch of things but not knowing how to, Harry stammered. Those things were bunching together much too quickly for the boy to hold onto and they faded away just as quickly as they came. Bunches of all sorts attacked his mind in flashes of pictures--memories one might call them. It was as if certain thoughts were being compressed so much that they couldn't be depicted into words or pictures that were dying to be seen or heard. It was like pouring marbles into a jar without a bottom. It was frustrating enough that Harry's mind was screaming to express such alien thoughts. "I am yours!" it would scream as it fell into a bottomless pit. "I'm still here!" it shouted; yet such thoughts that couldn't form into words could only be articulated into moans.

There were plenty of those, and groaning, and whimpering coming out of the child's throat. There were voices, plenty of voices thundering in his brain, crawling through the cracks of the door like a swarm of insects.  The pounding in his head was indescribable, he needed to say the what use to matter, words that still do, and feelings that mattered to all of them, the ones who mattered, or those that used too.

There was a word...it was a simple word, it was petty, but it was completely necessary for one who needed it to matter the most

"Help"