Harry came awake very slowly. His eyelids seemed to be stuck shut, and it took a few tries to get his eyes open.

The man who was so close that Harry could have reached out and touched him was not the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man, and so he had to be the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man.

He had light brown hair and dark spots under his eyes like Harry sometimes had after he'd misbehaved. He seemed to be asleep right there in the armchair.

Harry raised his head and looked around, which was not a good thing to do at all, because his eyes fell upon the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man, whose eyes were on Harry.

"Lupin," said the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man.

That made the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man jump and open his eyes very quickly.

"Wha-- What?"

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man gave him a very severe look. "Boy's awake."

"Oh!" The Very-Soft-Sounding-Man's head whipped around in Harry's direction. "Oh, Harry... Harrykins... I was starting to worry...." And he reached for Harry's face.

Harry ducked his head. Sometimes that worked with Uncle, because Uncle wasn't very fast.

The Very-Soft-Sounding-Man's hand jerked back.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean to frighten you. I wasn't going to hit you."

Harry opened one eye to peer at him.

"I have some medicine for you to take." He held out a skinny glass jar with a blue fizzy drink inside. "It's to make you feel better."

Harry eyed it warily. The only medicine Aunt had ever given him had made his stomach burn, and made him soil himself over and over all night.

"Open your mouth -- that's a good boy."

Harry had opened his mouth as soon as the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man told him to, and the fizzy drink was poured right in. It tasted bitter on his tongue, but he swallowed it because he knew the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man would be angry if he spat it out.

It didn't burn.

"Now, Harry, my name is... it's Moony. That's what you used to call me. Can you say that? Moony?"

"Moo," Harry said obediently.

"That's right," the Very-Soft-Sounding-Man-Whose-Name-Was-Moony said with a very forced sort of smile. "Moony."

He turned toward the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man, the smile slipping off his face.

"He was so bright, Severus. Talking in sentences already the last time I saw him. I can hardly believe it's the same child."

He turned back to Harry.

"I have some toys for you, sweetie. Why don't we put you down here on the rug...?"

Harry stiffened, but Moony put him down straight away, and not on the cold floor, either.

"Here are some blocks -- you used to love playing with blocks -- and a plush doggie."

Harry looked at the toys, but didn't touch them. Looking was all right. Dudley didn't mind when he looked, usually.

"Go ahead," said Moony, and he put the toy dog right into Harry's lap before getting to his feet. "This is breaking my heart, Severus. I can't stand it. I feel like I'm going to scream."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man frowned at Moony, but said nothing.

"What are we going to do? What can we do?"

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man sighed. "I know what we can't do." He rubbed a hand over his eyes. "I don't know, Lupin. I need time to think."

"But we're safe here? You said that, didn't you? It's warded?"

"Are you suggesting we stay locked up here for the next thirteen years, Lupin? Somehow I don't think that will work out."

"I just meant... Albus can't just come in and take Harry. Can he?"

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man shrugged. "If he wants him, I don't think even the Fidelius would help. Look, just keep the boy occupied. I'll have this potion ready in an hour and I'll be able to think clearer then."

Moony kneeled down in front of Harry again.

"All right, Harry. Let's see what we can build with these, shall we?"

He took a wooden block and put it down between them.

"Your turn."

Harry stared at the solitary block sitting on the rug in front of him.

"Here, darling," said Moony, pushing another block into Harry's hand. "Now, put it right next to mine."

Harry put the block down very quickly.

"Good! Good... now how about that yellow one?"

Harry put another block next to the other two.

"Good," said Moony, his forced smile back on his face. "Very good, Harry."

"Yes, if you're color blind."

"Shut up, Severus. Now, Harry, how about one more...?"

Harry kept adding blocks to the pile, which seemed to make Moony happy.

"I knew your Mummy, you know."

Harry looked up, startled. Mummy? Moony knew his Mummy?

"Yes," Moony said, nodding his head. "Yes, Harry, I knew her. She was my friend. Your Dad, too."

Moony knew Mummy and Dad? Maybe he knew where they were!

"Mummy?" Harry said, the old word slipping from his lips. "Mummy?"

"Yes," Moony said, smiling. "Mummy loved you very much, Harry."

Harry thought this over. He remembered something. Maybe Moony didn't know.

"Mummy. Bad man. Bad light."

Moony jumped, his eyes opening wide and blinking rapidly.

"What? Say that again, Harry. What bad light? What bad man? Severus -- he can't possibly --!"

Harry concentrated, but he didn't know the words to explain what he had seen. Mummy running. Mummy screaming. Bad light. Bad man. Mummy falling down. Bad man laughing. Bad light again.

"Mummy fall down," he said finally. "Bad man. Bad light."

He picked up a block and put it next to Moony's knee.

"Green," said Moony faintly. "Bad light that was green. He does remember. How is that even possible?"

"Bad man," Harry continued. "Bad light. Owie." He patted his forehead, because that was where his owie had been. "Unkie Petuh."

"WHAT?!" said Moony, his face suddenly as white as one of Aunt's hankies. "Oh, no, Harry, I'm sorry... I didn't mean to frighten you. Moony didn't mean to yell."

Harry swallowed. He had made Moony angry. When Moony was angry he did not sound like a Very-Soft-Sounding-Man at all.

"Harry darling," said Moony in his very softest voice, "tell me about Uncle Peter. Please."

Harry thought this over.

"Bad light. Owie. Unkie Petuh run, run, run."

He stopped, not knowing how to explain and knowing he wasn't doing a good job at all... and then he saw it.

"Unkie Petah," he said, placing the block next to Moony's knee.

"Oh God," whispered Moony.

And then he did a very strange thing. Hiding his face in his hands, he began to sob like Dudley had done once when his favorite toy had been chewed up by Aunt Marge's dogs.

"Lupin? Lupin!" said the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man, coming from behind the long table and crossing the room alarmingly fast.

Harry scrambled backwards and hid between the armchair and the wall.

But the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man ignored him. He kneeled in front of Moony and shook him by the shoulder.

"Lupin! What's the matter with you?"

Moony did not answer the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man, so the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man pried the block out of Moony's hand.

"Mouse? Lupin, what the bloody hell does it mean? Peter? Mouse? What does it mean?"

Moony took his hands away from his face at last. His face was streaked with tears, and his eyes seemed to stare right through the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man.

"Rat. Not a mouse. Rat."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man looked impatient. "And --?"

"Peter Pettigrew was a rat Animagus, Severus. And Harry couldn't have known that. Peter had never been to Godric's Hollow... it's shocking Harry recognized him at all...."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man frowned a very awful frown.

"A rat Animagus, Lupin? A rat Animagus? Damn you -- idiots! Did it ever occur to anyone that this would be good information to have if one was trying to identify the Dark Lord's supporters?"

Moony looked up. "Are you saying...?"

"YES, I'm saying! I must have seen him a dozen times, but never saw him without his hood and mask."

They fell silent, and sat as still as statues.

"I could have stopped him," whispered the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man. "I could have stopped it all."

"Sirius," whispered Moony. And then quite loudly, "Sirius!"

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man made a sour face. "I suppose Black told the truth after all."

"And no one listened!" Moony looked like he was going to begin crying again. "I didn't listen. I didn't believe him."

"Neither did..." The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man stopped and frowned again. "Neither did Dumbledore. But he would have known."

Moony's eyes narrowed. "What? Known what?"

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man sighed. "I assumed... I assumed that the Potters changed to Black as their Secret Keeper. I walked in on a conversation once -- didn't see whom Dumbledore was speaking to -- and that was the gist of it. He thought they should change. Could have been talking to Potter. Could have been talking to Black. Either way, he would have known they planned to change."

Moony blinked, looking very pale again. "And he never said anything. He never said a word in Sirius' defense."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man's eyes darted in Harry's direction, and Harry tried to make himself very small against the wall.

"Well, he... He didn't want Black to be around, did he? Can't put the boy with the Muggles if he has a Godfather around."

"But he wouldn't...! He wouldn't let...!"

"Except he did," said the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man in a very severe way, with his lips pressed together into a very thin line. "That's exactly what he did."

Moony frowned, and for a few moments appeared to be thinking very hard.

"We're jumping to a fair number of conclusions, Severus. There could still be some explanation -- no, don't snort -- there could be some reason that we don't know right now."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man snorted again. "He wanted to keep control of his little weapon, Lupin. I don't suppose you knew this, but there was a prophesy about the boy and --"

"A what?"

"Prophesy. The only one to vanquish the Dark Lord, and so forth."

"Oh... bloody hell. A prophesy," said Moony, his eyes rolling toward the ceiling. "What happened to ignoring the bloody things?"

"Dumbledore thought he had it under control."

Moony thought this over and shook his head. "Then maybe he isn't as brilliant as he's given credit for. Are you saying he got the ball rolling on it?"

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man hesitated, then nodded without a word.

Moony sighed heavily. "You could be right, I suppose. I shudder at the thought of going up against Albus. How can we possibly keep Harry from him?"

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man didn't answer.

"I need to get Sirius out of Azkaban. I don't care what it takes."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man pushed himself suddenly to his feet. "Give me time to think, Lupin. I need some bloody damn time."

With that swear, the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man stalked out of the room, leaving Moony staring after him with a furrowed brow.

Suddenly Moony seemed to remember Harry.

"Oh no. Harrykins... I am so sorry...."

Harry opened his eyes slowly. He had been having a very nice dream, in which he floated on a fluffy white cloud that looked a little like a bunny. It had been very soft and very warm. He didn't want the dream to end.

He wasn't in his cupboard. He wasn't sure where he was, but he knew it wasn't Aunt and Uncle's house at all.

He squinted at the walls and realized that they were not walls, but bookshelves reaching to the ceiling. And they were full of books.

This did not look like a bedroom, but there was a bed -- he was lying on it! It was like the cloud in his dream, so soft and warm.

Before he could climb out of the bed -- he wasn't allowed on beds -- one of the bookshelves jumped and moved, making a great big hole in the wall.

"Hullo, Harry."

Harry looked at Moony warily.

"You slept all morning, sleepyhead. Come, we'll have a nice bath and then you can have your lunch."

Harry heard the word 'bath' and froze in terror. Moony picked him right up and carried him out of the Books-Everywhere-Room and down a dark and narrow hallway.

"There we are," Moony said, putting him down on a rug in front of a horrible bathtub with monster feet. The Tub-With-Big-Feet was already full of water, and more water came rushing out of a Spout-With-Teeth.

"All right, let's get you in."

Harry's limbs came back to life suddenly, and he scooted away from Moony as fast as he could. That water was hot! He could see it bubbling and frothing and giving off puffs of smoke!

Moony looked down at him sadly.

"Poor darling," he mumbled. Then he kneeled in front of Harry. "Harry? It's just a bath. The water's nice and warm. See?"

And he plunged his arm into the boiling water!

Harry looked from the Tub-With-Big-Feet to Moony, who was now drying his arm on a fluffy towel.

"Let's take your clothes off first."

Harry let him do it. It was no good trying to fight, anyhow. If Moony wanted to put him in the Tub-With-Big-Feet, it was no different than when Aunt gave him baths. Except her baths were never hot.

"We'll need to get you some clothes," Moony said with a frown. "These are going straight in the rubbish bin."

Harry wondered if Moony had a little boy who had grown out of some clothes, so Harry could have them. Or maybe the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man had a little boy.

"There," said Moony. "Now, up you go --"

He lifted Harry and plunked him into the bubbling water.

Harry screwed his eyes tightly shut.

"There," said Moony again. "Not so bad, right, Harry?"

Harry opened his eyes. No, it wasn't bad. The water wasn't hot after all. It wasn't cold, either. It was just right.

"Look what I have."

Harry looked. It was a yellow duck. His cousin Dudley had many of them, and they were kept in a pail next to the tub, for Dudley to play with when Dudley took his baths.

Moony squeezed it and it made a quacking sound. Then Moony put it down in the water, and the duck started paddling its feet like mad, bobbing its head as it swam circles around Harry.

"Look what else I have," said Moony, holding up a small bottle. When Harry squinted his eyes he saw that it was filled with something bright pink.

"Bubbles!" Moony said, pouring the pink stuff into the Tub-With-Big-Feet right where the Spout-With-Teeth made a splashing waterfall.

Great big shiny pink bubbles started filling the Tub-With-Big-Feet. Harry poked one with his finger, but it didn't pop.

"All right, now play for a few minutes."

Moony picked up Harry's clothes from the floor, and went to the door. He opened it half-way and stuck his head out.

"Severus? I don't suppose you have anything Harry could wear? A hundred cleaning charms couldn't help these rags."

There was no answer, but soon the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man appeared in the doorway.

"I don't. There hasn't been a child in this house since I was one myself."

Moony held up Harry's clothes in front of the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man's face, holding them between his thumb and forefinger the way Harry had seen Aunt holding a sock after one of Aunt Marge's dogs peed on it.

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man looked at the clothes with disgust.

"All right, I'll pick something up at the Muggle shops. I can give you a plain shirt meanwhile to put him in."

"Thank you. Do you think you could get some food as well? Porridge... milk... things like that?"

"I will."

"Thank you," Moony said again. Then he jerked his head toward the Tub-With-Big-Feet. "Poor thing was terrified to get in. Near as I can tell, he thought the water wasn't right. I don't even want to think...."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man scowled. "When this is over, I'm paying Petunia and her husband a visit."

Moony smiled a smile that wasn't happy. "Let me know when, so I can offer you an alibi."

"Agreed," said the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man. And he turned on his heel and stalked away.

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man was very good at stalking, Harry noticed.

But he was back just moments later, holding a white shirt, which he offered to Moony.

"I'm leaving now, so if there's anything else you need...?"

"No, just hurry back. I don't want to be alone with Harry for very long."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man looked grim. "Why? Do you suppose together we could fend off Aurors and the great Albus Dumbledore?" He smirked. "Short of that, no one's getting into this house, Lupin, so you needn't worry yourself. I'll be back in an hour."

He turned to go, then stopped. "If anything does happen... I have a portkey. It's in my bedroom, in the cabinet. A ship in a bottle. Activates when you pop the cork."

"Where to?"

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man shook his head. "Rather not say, Lupin."

"Sorry, I should have thought... I understand."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man left, and Moony turned his attention back to Harry.

Harry pushed the yellow duck around in the water, because that seemed to make Moony happy.

"Let's wash your hair," Moony said after a few minutes. "Oh boy, you could really use a haircut, darling."

Harry shuddered. The last time Aunt had given him a haircut, she pulled out more hair than she cut off, and she had sliced his ear with the sharp scissors.

Moony tipped some green stuff from a bottle into the palm of his hand. "Close your eyes, Harry."

Harry didn't need to be told to do that. Having his hair washed was one of the worst things about taking a bath.

Incredibly, the soap never got into Harry's eyes, despite Moony soaping up Harry's head not once but many times (swearing under his breath in between times).

"All done," Moony announced after washing off the soap for the last time. "Ready to come out?"

He didn't wait for Harry to answer, but picked him up and swung him out of the Tub-With-Big-Feet and put him down on the rug. In a moment Harry was wrapped in a towel and Moony was rubbing his hair with another one.

"You'll have to wear this for now," Moony said, holding up the white shirt the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man had brought. "Just for a while."

Harry looked at it doubtfully. It was even larger than Dudley's clothes. It would fall right off him!

But it fit him after all. One moment it was hanging off him in great big folds, then Moony made him turn around and said a funny word, and the next moment the shirt was only slightly too long. It reached to Harry knees, which was good, because Moony didn't put any pants on him.

"Let's go see what there is for lunch, shall we?"

Harry followed Moony out of the bathroom and down the shadowy hallway. They passed several rooms.

It was an old house, Harry decided. He knew Aunt and Uncle wouldn't like it at all. It was smelly, and not very tidy.

He wondered if he was going to have to clean. Most likely he would.

The kitchen was small. There was a kettle singing loudly on the stove, and Moony quickly turned off the burner.

"Sit down, Harry," Moony said, pointing to the round table surrounded by tall, stiff-backed chairs. "Do you need a lift?"

Harry climbed onto one of the chairs. No, he didn't need a lift. He'd rather not be lifted by Moony or anyone else. You never knew when they might let go very suddenly.

"Good boy," Moony said approvingly.

Harry looked around for the dog, but didn't see one. He hoped it wasn't mean, like Aunt Marge's Ripper.

"Let me see," Moony said, opening a cupboard. "Well, Severus sure doesn't stock the kitchen well, does he? Harry, would you rather a tomato sandwich or breadsticks with jam?"

Harry tried to make himself very small in the big chair. He knew if he answered, he would just be told that those things were not for freaks like him.

Moony took his head out of the cupboard and frowned. "Harry? All right, I'll make sandwiches for both of us."

He had them made in a minute, and put a plate down in front of Harry.

"Go on," Moony said when Harry didn't move. "Take one." And he took one himself.

Harry still didn't move. That was a trick he knew very well, and ended with his hand being slapped, which hurt a lot if Aunt was holding a spoon.

"Oh! Stupid of me," Moony exclaimed, startling Harry. "Here, I'll cut it up into smaller pieces for you."

Harry eyed the knife warily, but Moony only cut a sandwich into wee pieces.

With the plate in front of him, the tomato oozing from between pieces of soft bread, Harry licked his lips and dared to look up at Moony.

"Go on, Harry," Moony said. "You need to eat, and we don't have anything else until Severus returns. I'll make you porridge then."

Harry slowly reached toward the plate.

He snatched his hand back at the last moment and looked quickly at Moony again.

Moony hadn't moved, and was eating his own sandwich calmly. He didn't look like he was going to slap.

He got a piece in his hand finally, and having got that far he knew he needed to eat it quickly.

"Oh dear," said Moony very quietly.

Harry was sitting on the rug in the middle of the room.

Whenever Moony looked at him, he would dutifully move a block or two, because that was what Moony wanted him to do.

The door opened suddenly, making Moony jump up from his seat in the armchair.

It was the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man. He shut the door behind himself and handed Moony a number of sacks. Harry knew one was from the grocers because it looked like the ones Aunt used when she went to the shops.

"No disturbances?" the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man asked, glancing briefly at Harry.

"No, nothing."

"Near as I can tell they don't yet realize he's gone."

"But that won't stay so."

"No."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man took off his coat and sat down in the chair where Moony had sat. He leaned his head back. He looked tired.

Moony had opened one of the sacks and now he took out clothing; a shirt, underthings still in plastic wrap, trousers, very small trainers, and a jumper.

"These will do very well," Moony said. "Look, Harry, your new clothes have arrived."

And then he swooped down on Harry and started dressing him before Harry could do more than squeak in surprise.

"There!" said Moony, looking him over. "Much better."

Harry felt that there had been some kind of mistake. These clothes were new from a shop. Moony must have got mixed up, and now the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man would be very angry to see what had become of the clothes he had bought.

He sneaked a look at the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man, but the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man was still sitting in the armchair and didn't look more severe than usual.

"How about we go to the kitchen," Moony said to the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man. "I promised Harry I would make him porridge, and you and I need to talk, Severus." He looked down at Harry again. "What do you think, moppet? Porridge and then a nap?"

Harry looked at him blankly. He did not know what Moony wanted from him. He moved a few blocks to the pile, but Moony frowned, so that must not have been the right thing.

Moony sighed heavily. "It's all right, Harry. Just give me your hand."

Harry scooted back instead, though he couldn't scoot very far because the couch was in the way.

Moony withdrew his hand.

"I don't know what to do with him, Severus. This is terrible. Those bloody awful people...!"

"Just pick him up, Lupin," the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man said. "It's obvious he doesn't understand."

Moony did pick Harry up, and Harry didn't fight because fighting didn't ever help.

They were in the kitchen again, and Moony plunked him down on one of the chairs. The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man sat down in another.

"Tea, Severus?"

"Make it strong. None of your usual nonsense."

Moony went about preparing tea and porridge. Both smelled quite good.

With a bowl in front of Harry and cups of tea in front of Moony and the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man, they sat around the table in silence.

"Eat, Harry."

Harry picked up a spoon -- he wasn't slapped -- and tried the porridge. It was very good, with milk pooled on top and sugar sprinkled around the edges.

He put the spoon down again.

"Eat it all, Harry, please. The whole bowl."

Harry looked at Moony through his fringe to see if he was serious, but he seemed to be.

"Have you thought at all about what we're going to do?"

"I have hardly thought about anything but," said the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man crossly.

"And...?"

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man sniffed very severely. "And aside from that we're looking at at least one charge of kidnapping, I'm certain of nothing."

"Well, that's not very helpful."

"I don't see you overflowing with viable ideas."

Moony sighed, rubbing his forehead. "You're right. I'm sorry. It's just that I'm terrified for Harry, especially if what you say about Albus is even half true."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man frowned and took a long drink of his tea.

"Severus, if we can't trust Albus, we need a way to keep him from getting Harry until Sirius is out of Azkaban --"

"What does he have to do with it?" asked the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man, banging his cup down on the table.

Moony stared at him. "Why, I -- I mean, Sirius is his Godfather. He's the only one who can get custody of him over Albus."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man glared at him. He drained the rest of his tea and stood up.

"You don't know what shape Black is in. It's been -- what? -- two, two and a half years that he's been in with the Dementors. In all likelihood --"

"We just don't know, do we?" exploded Moony, losing his soft voice entirely. "And I don't know what else we can do! No one's going to give the child to me, in any case, and you can't possibly make a claim to him."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man looked startled, then frowned at Moony. "Even if I could make a claim, Lupin, I couldn't take him."

Moony returned the frown. "Lily was your friend. You wouldn't raise her orphaned child if you were given the opportunity?"

"I said I couldn't, Lupin!" The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man started pacing across the small kitchen. "You have no idea -- I have my work -- I have my -- if the Dark Lord ever --"

"All right, I'm sorry. That was out of line. Anyway, they would just as soon give him to you as to me." Moony set his elbows on the table and dropped his head into his hands. "What can we do? Is there anyone we can trust right now?"

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man took several halting breaths, but stopped pacing. His lips thinned and deep lines appeared on his forehead.

"Severus?"

"I need to check on a few things. Will you be all right here alone?"

"Yes. Will you be long?"

"I don't know."

With those words, the Very-Severe-Sounding-Man turned and headed deliberately for the door.

He paused as he passed Harry, his very dark eyes fixed on Harry's face.

"He has Lily's eyes."

"Yes," said Moony. "They seem to be the only thing he inherited from her."

The Very-Severe-Sounding-Man nodded and strode out of the room.

A moment later a door opened and banged shut.