The next morning Remus woke up to the smell of food cooking. It took a moment from his sleep-addled brain to comprehend what was going on. Then it hit him. He quickly sat up, stumbling out of bed. He made his way into the small kitchen. What he saw, he could not believe. Harry was standing on one of the chairs, cooking. A part of Remus wanted to rush over to the child and grab him away from the stove, but the other part of him, kept him rooted where he was standing. The part that kept him glued realized that Harry was no stressed. He looked like he was in his element. And that was what caused the third part of him to surface. His eyes flashed amber as the wolf in him wanted to either find where he was living or who placed the child there in the first place.

Not wanting to scare the child, Remus took a deep breath so that he could calm the wolf inside him down.

“Good morning, Harry,” Remus said softly.

Harry turned around, smiling. “Good morning, sir.”

Harry carefully moved the pan of food of the stove's eye and jumped down on the floor. Slowly and with great ease, Harry carefully picked up the hot pan and brought it over to the table.

When Harry placed the pan on the towel he had put on the table earlier, he turned and started looking for a plate.

“Oh,” Harry said, startled, seeing Remus standing in the doorway. “I made breakfast.”

“I see,” Remus said. “Why?”

Harry opened his mouth to answer but didn't know how to respond. He just stood there slacked jawed for a second before he closed his mouth and lowered his gaze towards the floor. He always cooked breakfast.

Remus looked at the child before him and didn't like what he was seeing. This raised more questions that needed to be answered, but for right now, he wanted to get the sullen look off of the child. Looking around, he saw that Harry put his heart into what he made and it didn't make sense to let it go to waste.

“Well,” Remus spoke after a moment of silence. “Why don't you tell me what you've made? It smells wonderful.”

Harry's eyes lit up as he looked up at the man before him. Harry quickly went in search of plates and silverware so that he could serve the man.

Hopefully, if he liked what Harry made, then maybe he would let him stay.

Remus saw what Harry was trying to do and decided to help him set the table. After the table was set and much coaxing from Remus, Harry sat down in the same chair that he sat last night.

“Do you remember I said that there was a friend I wanted you to meet?” Remus asked as he dished up Harry's plate.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. After we finish eating, we'll get ready and then leave.”

Harry looked down at his clothes and then back up to Remus with a confused look.

“I'm already ready,” Harry stated.

Remus choked on his tea he was drinking while Harry spoke. Once he felt he got his airway cleared, he looked across the table at the child.

“Well, I still need to get ready,” Remus stated. “So, if you don't mind waiting for me to get dressed, we'll go.”

The rest of the meal went on in silence. When they were finished, Harry started gathering the dishes on the table, when Remus waved his hand, and the plates floated to the sink.

Harry blinked not knowing what he was looking at. The man just made the dishes move by themselves. Harry slowly got up and walked over to the sink basin. He wanted to see if there were strings or wires attached to the plates.

Remus watched the awe in Harry's eyes and pondered if showing Harry magic was a good idea. Seeing the surprised look on the child's face made him wonder if he did the right thing. Remus didn't stay in the kitchen, he went and got dressed, leaving Harry alone in the kitchen.

“Wow,” Harry whispered. He looked around and saw that he was alone. “That was freaky.”

The plates and cups just moved on their own. He definitely didn't feel any strings or wires on the plates, so it had to be freaky. The question is how did he show his freakishness. He was getting up to put the dishes in the sink, and they moved by themselves. Slowly stepping out of the kitchen, Harry walked over to the sofa and looked at the cover and pillow. He stared at it, wondering if he would make it happen again.

When Remus walked back into the room, he saw Harry staring at the bedding. A small smile creased his lips as he watched the child.

“Harry,” Remus said in a low voice, so he didn't startle him. “What are you doing?”

Harry's head snapped up and looked at the man in front of him. The last thing he wanted was for the nice man to start hating him for being a freak. Harry knew better than to try and do his freakish powers. The last time that happened it wasn't good. Uncle Vernon was not happy. Harry shuddered at remembering what happened.

“Nothing,” Harry said.

“Are you ready to go?” Remus asked.

“Where are we going?”

“It's a neat place. I think you will like it. It's called Hogwarts.”

___0000_____00000____0000

Harry and Remus were walking up the pathway towards Hogwarts. Harry felt that he would probably never be able to close his mouth again. Everything he saw this morning seemed to wow him to a whole new level. So many things played tricks with his mind.

When Remus told him that they would be taking the train to Hogwarts, Harry was beyond excited. He'd never been on a train. He had heard his cousin talk about the train rides he'd been on, but Harry was never allowed to take the train anywhere. When they got to Kings Cross Station, Remus had to hold on to Harry's shoulder so Harry wouldn't wander off or get any more distracted than he was.

Harry was mesmerized by everything around him.

“We need to hurry, Harry,” Remus said, bringing Harry out of his thoughts.

Harry raised his head to look at Remus and nod, but the tall man wasn't paying attention to him. Remus was looking ahead. Harry followed his gaze and once again, his jaw dropped, his walking slowed, but not by much since Remus had his hand on Harry's shoulder.

There in front of them was a brick wall. Harry looked up at Remus and saw that he wasn't worried that they were about to walk straight into a brick wall. When they were only meters away, Harry gave a quiet shriek and closed his eyes. He waited for the pain, but it never came. Harry kept his eyes shut. He was sure that they were close to the wall.

“Alright there, Harry?” Remus asked, looking down at the child.

Harry slowly opened his eyes, and again his jaw dropped. There in front of him was the most impressive train. It was bright red with gold trim. Harry couldn't help the smile on his face when they headed to climb aboard.

The train ride lasted about three hours. In all of Harry's excitement of coming on the train and seeing the inside of Kings Cross Station, he quickly got tired, and before he knew it, he was asleep.

Remus looked over at the child and smiled. Such innocence in this child. With everything that he's probably seen, he still has an innocence about him that Remus knew needed protecting. He hope that Albus will be able to help them.

Now, they were walking towards the entrance to the biggest castle Harry has ever seen. He was holding Remus' hand as they walked. When they reached the inside, Harry felt that he would never be able to close his mouth again. The entrance way had all these statues in armor. He wanted to reach out and touch them. Pulling his hand free, Harry walked over to the wall. He had to touch it. It was something that made him want to feel it.

Remus understood Harry's fascination with the school. He felt the same way when he first walked its halls. The werewolf watched as Harry wondered over to the walls and began running his fingers over the bricks.

“Come, Harry,” Remus said after a while. “There's more to see.”

Harry turned and looked at Remus, smiling.

Instead of holding the man's hand, Harry walked alone. He wanted to see everything, and the man just said that there was more.

Everything was so grand. Harry didn't know what to look at first. There were pictures everywhere of people and places. There were statues of armor all around. As he looked at the pictures on the wall, he thought he saw some of them moving, but it had to be impossible. Pictures don't move, Harry thought.

Harry followed Remus. Through all these magical, mystical things, Harry wondered who they were going to see. They haven't seen anyone since they left the train. Harry wanted to ask, but he didn't think Remus would like him asking and Harry was too preoccupied with all the beautiful things around him to take most of his attention away.

As they walked down a particular corridor, Harry saw a picture that caught his attention. It was of a landscape in the country. Where? Harry had no idea, but it looked peaceful. Harry stared at the painting not realizing that Remus was further down the corridor.

Remus had more things on his mind. He hadn't seen Albus in a few years, and now he was dropping by. Maybe he should have sent word of his arrival before coming, but he didn't know how Harry was going to take it. Ever since he did that little bit of magic in front of Harry at breakfast, Harry's been eyeing him in some instances like Remus was going to strike him. In Remus' observation, Harry didn't seem scared that Remus did magic. It looked like Harry was resigned to it. But it almost looked like the child thought that he did it. It was one of the major things that Remus needed to talk to Albus about. He too was unaware that the child in question was no longer beside him as he turned the corner.

___000____0000____000

“Well, what do we have here?”

Harry's focus left the landscape picture to see who was around him. He was standing alone in the hall. He didn't think on the fact that he was alone, meaning that the was separated from Remus. He wanted to find who was speaking.

“Well, don't just look around like an imbecile. What are you doing here?”

“Who is that?” Harry asked, who he thought was no one. “Where are you?”

“I'm right here. On the wall.”

The next picture on the wall showed a man sitting at a table. There was a book on the table and one in the man's hands.

“What is your name, child?” The man sitting asked.

Harry blinked as he saw the man's mouth move. Tilting his head to the side, he looked at the portrait, trying to see if he really saw what he just saw.

“Your name,” the man demanded.

Harry, recognizing that tone, shrieked as he straightened up.

“Harry, sir.”

“A little young to be gracing these halls aren't you? Or am I behind the times and they are letting you children in here early?”

“Am I doing this?” Harry asked.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You're talking.”

“Of course, I'm talking.”

“But pictures don't talk,” Harry argued. “I didn't mean to do this. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Now the nice man is going to send me away.” Harry said backing up to the other side of the corridor.

“Child,” the man in the painting called out. “Harry, calm yourself. You've done nothing.”

Harry stopped his mantra of words and looked at the painting again.

“But you're not supposed to be talking. I'm going to get in so much trouble for making you talk.”

“I promise you, child,” the man said. “You will not get in trouble here.”

“But you talked,” Harry said, slowly walking back to the picture.

“And I will again.” the man said, smirking. After a moment the man spoke again. “I feel that we've started off on the wrong foot.”

Harry's eyes got huge, and unlike earlier where he wanted to be away from the talking painting, he lunged forward to look at the base of it to see if he could see the man's feet.

“It's just an expression, child,” the man said, laughing at the boy's antics. “My name is Percival.”

“My name is Harry Potter.”

The smile that was on Percival's face quickly vanished when he heard the child's name. Percival has been hanging on the walls of Hogwarts for many years. Throughout those years, all of the paintings have heard many things. Students were talking among themselves. Faculty was speaking to one another. But the painting will never forget the day after that awful Halloween when the school learned that two families were destroyed leaving only the babies to survive. Now standing before his frame was Harry Potter.

“Harry Potter?” Percival breathed. “It is an honor to meet you, child.”

Harry smiled so much it seemed to brighten his whole body.

“So, what brings you to Hogwarts?” Percival asked.

“Remus said that there was a friend of his here.”

“Indeed,” Percival said. “Well, I will not hold you any longer. Go with your friend.”

“Yes, sir. Bye Percival,” Harry said, waving.

Walking away from the talking painting, Harry noticed that Remus was nowhere to be found. A part of Harry wanted to be frightened that he was alone, but walking down the corridor, Harry couldn't help but feel relaxed.

Harry turned down another corner and saw someone at the other end. At first, Harry thought that he and Remus were the only ones in this vast place, but now Harry can see that there were people here. Well, at least one. The man he saw was tall. He had long hair. That was something new for him. His uncle always talked about men he saw that had hair that touched their shoulders. The man had on a long black cape. The man seemed to be occupied by what he had in his hand. Harry watched as the man looked at the object for a second and then put it in his coat pocket. The man turned and headed down the corridor. As if there was a magnet attached to his billowing cape, Harry followed the man in black. He came to a stop at the door at the end of the hall and went inside. Wanting to see what the man was doing, Harry followed the man inside the room.

When he walked in, Harry was mesmerized by what he saw. Huge pots were hovering over small fires. Some were boiling. Some Harry could tell simmering by the sound it was emitting. Harry's attention quickly went back to the man as he took off his cape and stepped over to the table with the boiling pot on it.

Harry stepped inside and watched as the man in black started to work.

Severus just received the ingredient he was waiting on. It was essential for his work on the Wolfsbane Potion. Even if he didn't rightly care for the person he was making it for, he promised that he would find a way so that the transformations would be taxing on the human when the werewolf took hold. He had read in the latest potions journal the work that was coming along with bangle root. The article gave him the idea of using a different base to counter the harshness of the petrified dragon's blood. Now, Bangle root would react poorly in the Wolfsbane as it would counteract the gillyweed seeds that were needed. But there were properties within the Bangle root that gave Severus the idea of what he decided to use. It sometimes amazed Severus how some of the simplest things can be the solution.

Gathering the necessary ingredients, Severus began his updated version of the Wolfsbane. In his deep concentration, he was unaware that he had an audience.

Harry watched him move around the room with grace. He imagined that if the man still had his cape on it would billow from his movements.

Hazarding a chance, Harry stepped closer to the man, wanting to get a better look at what he was doing. Harry ventured as close as he was willingly trying not to disturb the man while he worked. Harry watched as the man sliced and diced, grind and pulverize. The child was so enthralled by what he was seeing his plans of keeping quiet didn't hold.

“Wow,” Harry whispered.

Severus' fingers froze. There should be no one with him. But he distinctly heard a small voice. Dropping the knife that was in his hand, Severus slowly turned around to see who dared to come into his labs.

Severus couldn't help the small gasp as he looked at the child standing before him.

“What you making?” Harry asked, smiling up at the man.

For the first time in his life, Severus was at a loss for words. There standing before him, though the first sight of him he recognized Potter, then at that moment after the child spoke, he only saw Lily.

TBC