There was nothing colorful about the small apartment.  It was monochromatic in varying shades of grey.  It was tidy, but looked as though it had seen better days.  Every piece of furniture bore deep scratches, every curtain was torn to some degree, and some floorboards stuck up around the edges of each plank.  To enhance the gloomy dwelling, nearly everything was covered in a thick layer of dust with the exception of things recently disturbed.  The only clue that anyone even lived in this place was the humble fire burning in the fireplace and the newspapers that littered the floor, all with recent dates.  The most recent of these papers covered the face of a body reclining in an exhausted heap on the sofa. 

He was a young man of thin figure and pallid skin.  Tufts of light brown hair stuck out from underneath the newspaper.  He wore clothing that was fast becoming threadbare with previous patches starting to come undone.  The edges of his jacket sleeves and the bottom of his trousers were frayed.  His shoes were what used to be worn dark brown leather, but now were scuffed and a faded tan color.  His hands were pallid and thin with traces of scars both pink and white.  His face was not seen due to the newspaper that covered it. 

The newspaper was dated 1 November 1981.  The picture just below the headline moved as though it were living, though two thirds of the people were no longer alive.  In the image was a smiling young couple - a man wearing glasses whose dark hair was untidy, and a woman with chest-length hair and almond-shaped eyes - with a young baby in the woman's arms.  The infant had a happy expression as his head tilted to look curiously at the camera then shift upward to look at his mother.  She smiled at the camera, and then looked down at her son, her smile never fading.  The young man's gaze alternated between the camera and shifting to the infant, his lips in a lopsided grin.  The headline read:

HARRY POTTER, THE BOY-WHO-LIVED

Harry Potter, a mere 15 month old, is the only known survivor of the Killing Curse.  Parents, James and Lily Potter, were tragically murdered while defending their son from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The attack at Godric's Hollow left the Potter home mostly destroyed. Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts Headmaster, had this to say. "We all feel the loss of James and Lily Potter, but they would be pleased to know that every precaution will be taken to ensure Harry's safety." The funerals for the Potters will be...

The peaceful crackling of the fireplace suddenly and abruptly flared, startling the sleeping man.  The fire had grown several feet in height and instead of burning orange it flamed green.  He stood quickly, reaching into his inner jacket pocket and drawing his wand, pointing it at the flames in alarm, his blue eyes alert and staring intently at the green fire.  It was only after a few seconds, though, that someone emerged from the flames.  He was a familiar person to the younger man, who lowered his wand with a sigh.  "Professor Dumbledore," he greeted him. 

Dumbledore roughly brushed the ashes from his robes.  His half-moon spectacles were slightly crooked on his nose, and his general appearance was in a small state of chaos, whether from anger or a rush to arrive in this shabby apartment the younger man did not know.  In the older wizard's hand was a folded newspaper.  There was a spark of temper in the older man's eyes as he took several large strides across the room to stand directly in front of the younger man.  He unfolded the newspaper and thrust it in the other man's direction with jerking movements.  "Remus, read this!  Do you know anything about this?"

The younger man, Remus, put his wand back in his inner jacket pocket before taking the newspaper.  Before he could even begin reading, the older wizard spoke again, this time a bit softer.  "I believe you know about James and Lily."  Remus nodded, lowering his head.  He had read the article many times over, and remained secluded in his apartment.  His blue eyes caught sight of a picture on the front page of the newspaper of the very man standing before him.  Dumbledore's likeness seemed to be standing in front of the ruined Potter house, making the statement mentioned in yesterday's paper.  Remus looked at the headline and proceeded to read the beginning of the article.

DUMBLEDORE'S PRECAUTION?

Barely 24 hours after Harry Potter is orphaned, he is also missing! Yesterday, Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts Headmaster, assured the public of the safety precautions to be taken in regard to Harry Potter. The whereabouts of the boy are unknown. Professor Dumbledore cannot be reached...

Remus was unable to read any further because Dumbledore interrupted.  "Do you have any idea where Harry could be?" 

Remus did not look at Dumbledore, preferring instead to look upon his likeness on the newspaper.  "I thought you took him to Lily's sister."

"I have just been in Little Whinging.  I spoke with Petunia."  Dumbledore began to pace in front of the fireplace, his footsteps quick and frantic.  His robes curled around his feet each time he turned around.  "Aside from not receiving Harry, she did not lay a hand on the note I left with him, explaining everything to her.  How the Potters died, the magic that Lily used to protect Harry, the Blood Magic, how important Harry is to our world.  Everything!"

Remus looked at the elder wizard but did not make eye contact.  "You did stay to be sure Petunia took Harry in, didn't you?" he asked, although he already suspected the answer.  His question stopped Dumbledore's pacing instantly, and before he had the chance to answer Remus' question, the younger man continued.  With a flaring temper he admonished, "You didn't.  What did you do, just leave him on the doorstep?  With all the information with him!  Anyone could have it and him, now!" 

"Do you know anywhere that he might be?"

Remus turned away, throwing the newspaper onto the floor landing among several others.  "I have not left my apartment for three days, now, Professor.  My news has come from The Daily Prophet.  All I know is from what I've read." 

"You truly do not know?"  Remus heard Dumbledore's voice closer to him than before.  Remus shook his head, lowering it again as his shoulders tiredly slumped.  He felt a hand on his shoulder then as Dumbledore spoke.  "My boy, you know how important Harry is to us, now.  If you think of anything...anything at all, Remus, please let either Minerva or myself know."  Dumbledore sighed.  "I can only imagine what could be happening to him."

At that, Remus turned to face the Headmaster.  "And if any harm has come to him, you have no one to blame but yourself, Professor."  He fixed his eyes on the bridge of Dumbledore's nose, still refusing to directly meet his eyes.  He had once been warned of eye contact with Albus Dumbledore, and it was advice he intended to heed for many years to come. 

The older wizard looked for a long time at his former pupil before he lowered his gaze slightly.  "I must return to Hogwarts.  There are some things I must attend to.  School is still in session, as you know."  He turned and walked to the fireplace.  He looked around on the mantel until he found what he required.  His fingers reached into the tall, plain silver goblet and pinched some of the glittering powder inside of it.  He threw it into the orange fire and watched for a moment as the flames erupted into green light and grew several feet higher.  He shouted very clearly, "Headmaster Dumbledore's Office, Hogwarts," before stepping into the fireplace and vanishing in a swirl of green flames.  

Remus was once again alone in his apartment.  He glanced back at the copy of The Daily Prophet with Dumbledore's moving picture on the front page.  Harry was missing?  How could Dumbledore lose him after only having him in his care for less than a day?  Was he just careless or did something truly sinister happen?  His mind was spinning.  Just a few days ago, James and Lily were alive and well enough.  Now, they were both dead and little Harry was missing!  The world was turned upside down by a single curse...and a secret that had not been kept hidden!

"Sirius!" Remus spat.  He went quickly to his fireplace and pinched some of the glittering powder from the goblet on his mantel, throwing it viciously into the flames.  They turned green and monstrous again.  With a voice he struggled to control, he shouted as clearly as he could, "Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place!"  Then he stepped into the flames and he too disappeared from the shabby apartment in a swirl of green flames. 

Remus emerged from the fireplace into the kitchen of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.  He brushed off the ashes from his clothing hurriedly before looking quickly around the room.  He saw that no one was in the kitchen and went directly to the doorway leading to the hallway.  He threw open the door and drew his wand.  "Sirius!" he called, softly, his voice trembling, but his wand hand steady.  The house was deathly silent.  This unnerved him.  Usually the house would be filled with the screaming of the late Mrs. Black's portrait, but now nothing.  He walked to the staircase and gazed up them.  "Sirius?" he called again.  As expected, he heard no response. 

He walked carefully up the groaning steps, calling for his former friend every few paces.  And at every call there was a response of silence.  Remus cautiously opened every door he came across, entering the room quickly with his wand raised and ready to scream out a curse if necessary.  Every room he encountered was the same as the kitchen.  Silent and dark.  He came to the very end of a hallway, where there was another closed door.  "Sirius?" he called, softly, once again. 

He flung the door open only to be taken by surprise by a familiar voice barking out a spell.  "Expelliarmus!"  Remus's wand was torn from his hand and sailed towards the direction of the spell caster, who revealed himself from behind the closed bed curtains.  His face was thin and his dark eyes were glaring at Remus fiercely.  In one hand he threateningly held his wand, and in the other he now held Remus's wand.  He stood with his feet squarely and firmly planted on the ground, his posture aggressive and consumed in trembling rage.  His teeth were bared and clenched as he breathed heavily through the mouth.  His long dark brown hair was in massive disarray, and his clothing was haphazardly arranged as though he had recently had a bought of rage upon someone or something and caused more harm to himself than whatever was his enemy. 

"Sirius," Remus began, his nerves on the edge, having just been disarmed by someone he had considered a friend.  Sirius interrupted him, shouting in near hysterical fury. 

"Shut up, Remus!" Sirius threw Remus's wand behind his back and out of sight.  Remus obeyed Sirius's command immediately.  Sirius charged towards Remus, his wand raised level with the other man's throat.  In another instant, Remus found himself pressed against the wall, Sirius's free hand clenched in the fabric of his chest, with a wand firmly pressed into the base of his throat.  "How could you betray James like that, Remus?" Sirius growled in his face, his dark eyes blazing. 

"Sirius-"

"You were their Secret-Keeper!" he screamed, his face twisting in a torrent of painful emotion.  "You sold them, didn't you?"  Remus shook his head in both denial and confusion.  "Didn't you!" Sirius demanded, his voice bellowing, his wand pressing harder against Remus's throat. 

"No, Sirius!" Remus cried, his voice cracking in fear of the hysterical man before him.  "I wasn't!"  In the brief second that Sirius's grip on his clothing faltered and his wand shook, Remus escaped his grip and got several paces apart from him.  "They never even spoke to me of being their Secret-Keeper.  Why would you think that?  Because, as far as I knew, you were the Secret-Keeper!"

"No!" Sirius shouted, cutting off Remus again.  "James - James insisted that it not be me...Just before the Fidelius Charm was cast."  Remus watched Sirius for a moment only daring to approach him, when Sirius looked directly at him and the dark eyes were not blazing, but instead filled with complete loss.  Sirius's wand arm lowered to hang dejectedly at his side, posing no threat to Remus any longer.  Sirius continued to speak, his voice broken.  "He refused...to tell me who the new Secret-Keeper was.  I - I didn't think he would choose anyone other than one of us - a Marauder.  And...then...you disappeared for a while.  I thought he chose you, Remus." 

"Sirius..." Remus began, taking another step.  His voice suddenly refused to work.  Sirius was deflating before his eyes, the fierce and furious man in the room moments ago was quickly leaving behind his broken counterpart.  Remus knew the horrible things the other man was feeling, having experienced them as well. 

"James and Lily dead," Sirius whispered, as though the quieter he said it the less it would be true.  "And...Harry..."  Remus saw a single tear slide down the other man's face.  Sirius did not even use the effort to wipe away its existence.  He let it fall.  Remus watched as Sirius met his gaze again.  When he saw the amount of unshed tears there, Remus's eyes softened.  Sirius and Remus walked toward each other as though in a daze, seeing something familiar and knowing it would be there for comfort.  Sirius grabbed onto Remus and they embraced in a gentle supportive manner, holding onto each other, as though they both held their last friend in the world.  "I was there that night," Sirius whispered, trying to disguise his trembling voice.  "I saw the house.  I saw...James...He looked terrified.  Have you ever seen James like that?  I'll never forget it."  Sirius tried to breathe silently, but it came out as a strangled sob.  "And then I heard someone else there...and...I looked...and it was Hagrid.  He...had something in his arms...something small...something that was crying...Harry.  Dumbledore was right behind them, and...I went to Hagrid and saw Harry...dried blood on his head...and...a scar that wasn't there before.  It looked like a lightning bolt.  He looked at me...and...he didn't seem to even know me!"  Tears broke Sirius of his speech, his entire body shaking and his breathing unsteady and irregular.  "I begged Hagrid to let me take him.  I said, ‘Give Harry to me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather, I'll take care of him.'  But...he said, ‘No.'  And...Dumbledore...said that Harry would be going to his aunt and uncle's in Little Whinging.  Muggles!"  Sirius spat the word like a curse.  "I gave every reason I could against sending Harry there...But...Dumbledore wouldn't...budge.  And...I told Hagrid, ‘Take my bike.'  He asked me why...Why...I told him, ‘I won't need it anymore.'  I...just didn't see the point of...keeping it...Do you remember, Remus?  James and I built it that summer?" 

"Yes," Remus confirmed, "I remember."  Remus found himself smiling a little, lost in the memory of his friends' excitement when they first tested the motorbike and having the flying mechanism work as planned. 

"I couldn't...How could I keep it?"

"To simply remember...better days."

"Those days ended even before...all of this, Remus."  Sirius left the comfort and support of Remus's embrace and walked away from him, going across the room around the bed.  He stooped low to pick up something from the floor.  As he walked back to Remus, the other man was speaking.

"Then, all you can do is remember those days fondly.  Your life is not over, Sirius."  Sirius held out Remus's wand to him.  "Thank you."  Remus pocketed it again in his inner jacket pocket.  "Think back to our schooldays if it helps.  Just..."  As he tried to search for the right words, Sirius's eyes sparked and he met the other's gaze.  "What is it?" Remus asked.

Sirius said nothing.  He walked with urgency to his wardrobe, flinging the door open with enough force for it to bang loudly against the wall.  He yanked a long coat from a hanger and furiously struggled into it.  "Sirius, what is it?" Remus asked again, louder this time.  Sirius seemed to be in a haze of rage again, but much more terrifying than the fury he encountered initially.  Sirius strode right past Remus and out of the door of his room.  Remus followed at a quick run.  Sirius was already bounding down the stairs, with Remus charging after him, trying to catch up.  "Sirius!"  When Sirius turned right at the bottom of the stairs, Remus jumped the rest of the way and grabbed hold of Sirius's arm.  Sirius whipped his head around to Remus, his dark eyes now volcanic with rage.  "Tell me!" Remus demanded. 

"If you weren't Secret-Keeper, and neither was I - and...I said that I couldn't imagine James choosing anyone besides a Marauder - then - that only leaves one other person!" Sirius's whole body trembled with his need for vengeance and his untamed fury. 

"Peter Pettigrew!" gasped Remus.  Sirius nodded, and jerked his arm free of Remus's hold, intending to leave when Remus's voice stopped him.  "Harry is missing, Sirius!"

He turned abruptly and instantly was toe-to-toe with Remus.  "What?" he growled. 

"Dumbledore saw me today.  He told me that Harry's missing."

Sirius swore under his breath.  "He swore that he'd be safe!  How could he - how could-"  Sirius was consumed with his anger that his voice had been taken from him.  "Where could he possibly be?  He could be anywhere!"

"I'm sure he's somewhere safe," Remus tried to reassure him.

"And how would you know?  He could be in the hands of Death Eaters for all we know!"  Sirius closed his eyes and shook his head in a vain attempt to gather himself.  "I - I have to go, Remus."  Remus opened his mouth to protest but Sirius spoke first.  "I have a rat to sniff out and kill."  He turned and began towards the door again. 

Remus could not believe this was happening.  Sirius felt that avenging James was more important than his godson?  What was happening to the world?  "Sirius!  James is gone!  You have a responsibility to Harry, now!  Honor that!"

Sirius faced Remus again.  With sincerity and a steady voice he replied, "And I will, but only after Pettigrew pays for what he's done to James and Lily." 

Before Remus could challenge that statement, Sirius had already walked through the door and slammed it shut behind him again.  Once again, Remus was left alone in a dark and silent home staring at the door through which his friend had left.  With a sigh, Remus felt his shoulders slump and his expression sadden as he turned to walk back into the kitchen.  There on the mantel was an item that held what he was looking for, Floo Powder.  He reached into the unnecessarily elaborate little cauldron and removed a pinch of black, glittering powder.  He threw it into the fire and shouted, "Remus Lupin's Flat," and stepped into the lit fireplace disappearing once again in a swirl of green flames. 

Remus was awoken by an annoying tapping on his window.  He opened his eyes blearily and rose from the sofa.  Was it the next day already?  His vision began to focus as he walked in the direction of the tapping sound.  He moved the torn curtain aside to peer out.  An owl was flapping outside of his window, gripping the newest copy of The Daily Prophet, and a small money purse attached to its leg.  Remus opened the window, admitting the owl inside.  He took the newspaper from the animal and reached into his pocket for the bird's payment, depositing it into the money pouch.  After receiving its money, the owl flew out of the window again.  Remus shut the window again and situated the damaged curtain as best he could before going to the newspaper wondering what had happened worth reporting now.  What greeted him on the front page surprised him just as much as the news of the Potters' deaths. 

SIRIUS BLACK, CONVICTED MURDERER

Apprehended shortly after killing thirteen Muggles and wizard Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black was forcibly removed from the scene by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad. Black has been reportedly in league with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named long before Pettigrew confronted Black in a duel resulting in his gruesome death. The only recovered piece of Pettigrew was his finger. Peter Pettigrew has been awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, posthumously. Sirius Black is currently held in Azkaban Prison...

Remus's breath was sucked from his body as though someone had strangled it from his lungs.  He stared disbelievingly at the moving picture of Sirius struggling in the hold of numerous Ministry Law Enforcement Squad members, his mouth open in a silent scream, his eyes desperately searching for a friend, his hair dripping in a liquid that was darker and thicker than water.  Remus's mouth hung open identical to Sirius's in the picture, only his was open in shock, while the picture's was clearly screaming.  Remus stared at the picture for a long while, standing as still as a painter's subject.  He thought of the last conversation with Sirius, just yesterday.  His own voice came back to haunt him.

"Sirius!  James is gone!  You have a responsibility to Harry now!  Honor that!"

"And I will, but only after Pettigrew pays for what he's done to James and Lily."

Remus closed his eyes as he heard the voices echoing in his head.  Sirius will never be able to honor that responsibility now!  Who would now?  "I will," Remus said to himself, opening his eyes to see the struggling Sirius, saying the words almost as a promise to look after what Sirius could not. 

Sirius's picture looked directly at the camera and screamed almost frighteningly into the lens, the emotion visible in his expression obvious to only Remus.  The chestnut-haired wizard sat down on his sofa, still clutching the newspaper, his mind darting in all different directions.  His impulsive mind decided on a reckless course of action to defend Sirius and earn his freedom, before the rational half of his mind took him back to reality.  "Your life is not over, Sirius."  He gazed sadly upon the picture on the front page once more and whispered to it, as though trying to speak to the man pictured, "Now it is, Sirius.  Now it's over." 

Remus sat on his sofa with the newspaper for a long time his mind completely blank and thoughtless.  He stared straight ahead as though he were not among trying to figure out when the world had gone so wrong.  His body was frozen in his position.  He did not know what to do.  Without any other emotion in him but overwhelming grief - for James, for Lily, for Sirius, for Harry - his strength gave out and his tears finally flowed from his blue eyes. 

The house of the Black Family was silent.  There was no one left in the house.  The last member of the family yet living was now forever contained in the wizard prison, Azkaban.  Strangely, a fire was still burning in the fireplace. How a fire managed to last this long without anyone to tend it was a mystery.  But there was someone to tend to the fire.  The same old resident of the household whose service would be forever bound to the family, even in their deaths or other circumstances.  This resident went by the name of Kreacher and he was a house-elf.  He wore an old pillowcase type of garment, stained from extended consecutive wear.  His long, pointed ears were starting to droop in his age, and his large round eyes were not as bright as they once were.  He was getting old, slower, and crankier with every passing year.  However, as ordered by his latest master, he kept the fire burning to keep communication lines open through the Floo Network with those of a friendly nature.  This house-elf shuffled about the kitchen, hiding various items of value in what he had very recently claimed as his room - a cupboard under the sink.  It was when he had just stashed some shiny treasures in his space that the fire flared high and green and a figure stepped through. 

Kreacher slowly, almost lazily, shuffled over to this person and looked up and spoke in a raspy, grating voice.  "Yes, sir?"

"Are...are you Kreacher?" the man asked.  Kreacher slowly nodded once.  "Oh, good.  I need to ask you a few things.  Is that alright?"  Kreacher said nothing to the man, but walked to one of the kitchen chairs and pulled it out from the table, indicating that the man should sit himself in it.  He did, and Kreacher stood beside the sitting man waiting rather impatiently to be asked these questions. 

"Kreacher, has Sirius ever had a man here named James recently, maybe with a young woman, Lily, and a very young child named Harry?" 

Kreacher mumbled something unintelligible, and was asked to repeat it.  "Yes," he reiterated. 

The figure seemed encouraged and asked anther question.  "Were there any toys or things that a young child like Harry would play with or use or need kept here?" 

"Yes," Kreacher responded, trying to not mumble too much, for he hated being asked to repeat himself. 

"Would you please fetch them for me?" he asked the house-elf, who grumbled in protest at receiving an order from someone that he technically did not have to obey, especially when none of his masters were there.  He refused to budge.  The chestnut-haired man asked again.  "Please, Kreacher.  I do not know where anything is in this house.  Please, fetch them for me." 

Kreacher mumbled again in protest but he nevertheless raised his right hand and snapped his long, bony fingers.  He disappeared even before the sound of the snap faded.  In a few moments, he materialized again with a sharp whip-like crack.  He held the handle of a small traveling trunk.  It was black wood polished to gleam in nearly any lighting.  He dropped the handle of the trunk beside the man's chair and then shuffled away towards his cupboard under the sink, mumbling all the way.  The man, meanwhile, opened the trunk and looked at the contents.  Seemingly satisfied, he closed it again.  He left his chair and crouched to pick up the trunk.  He had just turned to the fireplace when he heard a raspy, "Sir?" from the height of his knee.  He looked down to see Kreacher standing beside his leg with a large key in his hand. 

"Yes?"

Kreacher held the key as high as he could towards the man, who bent in order to hook his finger through the ring at the top.  "Kreacher found this key in a letter."  With a snap of his fingers, a letter appeared in his hand.  This, he also held out to the man.  "You looks like a young man in pictures that...Master had."  The house-elf seemed to reluctantly say the word master. 

The man nodded, a weak smile appearing on his face.  "Yes.  I'm Remus Lupin."  He took the letter offered by Kreacher.  He looked at the name on the envelope, Sirius Black, in neat writing which he recognized immediately.  James.  "Thank you, Kreacher," he said, kindly.  He walked to the fireplace.  Remus turned around to look at Kreacher.  "I think you will be able to put out the fire, though.  Sirius will not be coming back for...a very long time.  He will not mind."  He could not bring himself to say that his friend was never coming back.  Even he had not accepted that yet. 

Remus put down the trunk before he pinched out of the cauldron some of the black glittering powder and throwing it into the fire.  The flames grew high and green again.  Remus picked the trunk up again as he clearly pronounced his destination, "Remus Lupin's Flat."  He checked quickly to be sure he had the trunk, key, and letter before stepping into the flames of the House of Black for the last time, and disappearing through the swirling flames. 

Kreacher waited until the flames turned their natural color and height before he shuffled to the fireplace and put out the fire in a final confirmation that no witch or wizard lived any longer in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. 

Remus had finally settled at his kitchen table and prepared to open the letter that Kreacher had given to him.  He would recognize the handwriting on it anywhere.  It was James's handwriting.  Carefully, Remus opened the envelope and pulled a single page of sloppily folded parchment.  A grin lifted the corner of Remus's mouth as his memory was triggered by James's inability to properly fold a piece of paper.  The edges were always uneven, no matter how many times he would try to line them up.  At least Remus knew for sure that the letter was from James.  He unfolded it and began to read. 

Sirius,

As you know, Lily and I are going into hiding.  Someone told Dumbledore that You-Know-Who is looking for us.  He advised us that hiding would be the best thing, and I agree, for Lily's sake and for Harry's.  We've decided that we may go under the Fidelius Charm soon, and are thinking of potential Secret-Keepers.  As Harry's godfather, I think it is only right to ask you, but Lily isn't so sure.  She does trust you, but she's scared, and wants to be sure that we put careful thought and consideration into this.  I have to say, she is right.  But we did decide on something that would be best for everyone no matter what happens with our decision for Secret-Keeper. 

Enclosed is the key to our second vault.  There is one vault that Harry will be able to withdraw money from when he starts Hogwarts.  Lily and I agreed that we should make another one just in case anything should happen to us.  Harry, or his guardian, which would be you since you are his godfather, will be able to use this money for anything he needs.  If you want to spend your own money for him and let him use this amount for some later purpose, then by all means.  It's your decision.  We gave a spare key for our vault to Dumbledore for safe keeping.  We thought precautions in this would at least ensure that Harry will be taken care of, even in a small monetary way.  Thank you, Sirius.

Keep this to yourself.  And if you even think of spending anything in that vault on yourself I will have to hex you, or turn into an angry Prongs on you!  And you know how terrible that can be. 

                                           Fellow Marauder,

                                                James Potter

Remus refolded the paper and looked at the key the sat on the table nearby.  At least James had planned ahead.  "Probably Lily's doing," he half-chuckled to himself.  She always was practical.  He already had composed a letter immediately after going to Sirius's house that afternoon.  It was a difficult letter for him to write.  All he needed to do now was have it delivered. 

He wasted no further time.  He went through his apartment and prepared the items needed for the delivery.  He had carefully placed the letter back in the envelope and tucked it into the miscellany of items in the trunk.  Along with it he placed the vault key.  He tightly and carefully wrapped the trunk in the proper paper for delivery and tied it with a huge amount of string, securing everything as best he could. 

With caution, he approached his sleeping brown barn owl with the composed letter and woke the bird, which glared at Remus meanly.  "Will you deliver this, Aria?"  She hooted at him at angled her head to read the name on the envelope in her owner's familiar writing.  She snatched the envelope in her beak and then glared at the trunk that was larger than her.  Remus understood.  He drew his wand and said, "Reducio," aiming the wand at the trunk.  Once the spell hit it, the size of the trunk decreased until it was smaller than the owl waiting to deliver it.  Once she saw it was a proper carrying size, she latched onto it with her talons and she flew towards the window. 

Remus opened the window and watched as the owl flew from the apartment with a trunk filled with children's toys, two letters, and a vault key.  As he watched the bird fly away, he hoped that he had made the right decision and that his hunch would prove him correct.