Chapter Text
“What did you just say,” Harry asked, he looked so much like Lily, especially from Sirius’ new angle. He backed away slightly, shock painting his face.
“You’re not alone, Harry. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you,” Sirius muttered.
Harry was silent for a moment, a look of confusion on his face.
“No, no, not that, I’ve been feeding a grown man dog food?? Are you okay? Is that alright for your health??” He looked mortified. Practically Lily incarnate. Er, well, Sirius guessed that he would be.
“Uhm, I mean, when I’m a dog, yeah,” Sirius muttered. Merlin’s beard Harry looked and acted so much like Lily, “I have a dog digestion system when I’m Padfoot. Or as you’ve been calling me, Snuffles.”
Harry stared at him for a moment, thinking while looking Sirius up and down, “You don’t look like the criminal they say you are, the Prophet I mean.” Quick topic change, but okay.
“Because I’m not, wrongly imprisoned with no trial. They didn’t even try to give me veritasium or anything.”
“What! That’s such a misuse of power! They should have tried you,” Harry cried in outrage. He then paused for a moment, “My parents knew you, right? I mean, how else would you be my godfather.” Again, wild topic change.
“Yeah, yeah. We were best mates at Hogwarts. Minnie loved us,” Sirius grinned, Harry looked at him funny, clearly he thought that Minnie did not in fact, love us.
“You mean professor McGonagall?” he asked, awe on his face. Clearly he’d never heard of anyone bold enough to use her full name, let alone a nickname.
“She still there, then?” Sirius asked excitedly. He took a step back to lean on the book shelves behind him.
“I don’t think she’s ever left,” Harry grinned. James’ grin. They’d be so proud of him, Lily and James. “Me ‘n Ron have this theory that she just lives there year round.”
“That was exactly what James said about her in our fifth year!”
“That’s amazing, generational McGonagall theories.”
“Yeah!” Sirius barked excitedly.
“Wait, how did you know about all the Potter Vault stuff?” Harry looked a bit confused. Again with the topic changes?
“Oh! I came here to help lug around furniture for your mum. Levioso wasn’t enough for them, Lils ‘n’ Prongs needed me and Remu too,” he grinned, recalling levitating a sofa above James and joking about dropping it on him. Lily put a very quick stop to that. Looking back, the joke wasn’t that funny.
“Two questions, was Prongs my dad’s nickname and also who’s Remu?”
Now that hurt. Remembering that Harry wouldn’t know these things. They’d all been ripped away from him. No Uncle Moony. No Uncle Pads. No Aunt Marls. Nobody.
“Yeah, Prongs was his nickname back at school,” Sirius said, masking his guilt for that fateful night, “And Remus Lupin, Remu, was part of our friends group. The Marauders, you might’ve heard of us. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. I was, and am, Padfoot.”
“Never heard of ‘The Marauders.’ But if you’re Padfoot ‘n dad’s Prongs, who’s Moony and who's Wormtail?” Harry asked.
“Moony was Remus, and Wormtail was… Peter Pettigrew. He- we don’t talk about him,” Sirius averted his eyes, trying to avoid the irony of the word ‘we’.
“Why not?” He asked, eyes full of innocence. From all Sirius had gathered, Harry must not know much about his parents.
Sirius just stared.
“He’s the– he,” Sirius stuttered. He wanted to tell him, but the words wouldn’t come out. He must have looked uncomfortable enough for Harry to notice.
“Uhm… Remus sounds cool!” Harry said, trying to change the subject.
Sirius smirked, Harry’s cheap tactic had worked, clever boy, “He absolutely wasn’t. Although he was and probably still is pretty fit.”
Harry mock gasped, “Sirius! You sly dog , you!”
Sirius couldn't help but break out into laughter, Harry quickly following his lead and giggling himself.
After the quick round of laughter subsided, Harry asked another question.
“D’ya think I can still bring you to Hogwarts?”
“I don’t… know. Probably,” Sirius said, shooting him a pair of finger guns, “Just slip me a treacle tart every once in a while and I’ll be golden!”
Harry face-palmed at that. Just like Lily whenever James had told a particularly unfunny joke. Funny how the littlest things transfer from parent to child.
—
Remus knew something was off. He knew when someone called him fit. He had a sixth sense for it. Okay, well, that’s not entirely true. But! He could tell that someone was complimenting him in a rather odd fashion, somewhere.
So, either Sirius was getting really lonely on the run, or someone who had confessed to him at Hogwarts (or in his adult life) is having another go.
For some reason, Remus just knew that it was Sirius.
And Remus wondered, what could he possibly be on about. He’s on the run for Merlin’s sake! Stupid dog of a man.
To be fair, Remus couldn’t deny that he’d been thinking about him pretty much since the day he was incarcerated, wondering how he could have done it. If he’d done it. Why he might’ve.
He probably looks so different now. Skin and bones, greasy hair. He’s probably finally done away with that small remaining bit of baby fat that clung to his cheeks. He probably barely looks human anymore.
They didn’t even give him a trial.
Remus didn’t even try to push for one, that’s how hurt he’d been. It’d just been such an open and shut case. He was the secret-keeper after all.
But, he's still regretted that decision every day since.
Every single day.
But, Remus still had some work to do. And he needed to get back to it.
Dumbledore had owled him, asking about how he’d like his classroom and office set up. And Remus needed to provide a detailed description so the house elves could work their magic.
So, his mind drifted away from his past, and whatever cheeky conversation Sirius was having with himself (and whatever regrets Remus had about the past), and focused in on providing Dumbledore and the elves with a good enough description to not be wildly misinterpreted.
At least, he hoped.
—
The train was as homey as it was back in Sirius’ day. Still decorated with those warm reds and honey browns.
Harry decided to sit in a compartment with his friends, Ron and Hermione (if Pads had heard right), with some tall student napping in the corner. Maybe? Padfoot couldn’t see much, but only the students really rode the train, so it couldn't be someone on the staff.
Padfood was sat on the floor of the compartment, eating some particularly nice dry food Harry had found at a muggle pet store. It kind of tasted like beef wellington.
Hermione, the smart girl she seems to be, immediately asked Harry about his new animal companion.
“Harry, you do know that only owls, cats, and toads are allowed as familiars, right? And you already have Hedwig!” She scolded. Ron’s face contorted in such a way that meant that this happened often.
“Yes ‘Mionie, I know. I owled Dumbledore about it already and he said it’d be fine. He’s probably only allowing it because it’s me, to be quite honest with you,” Harry groaned.
“Hmph, at least you had the decency to owl.”
“Girls, girls, you’re both pretty,” the Weasley, Ron, said.
“You know that’s only insulting to Harry, correct?” Hermione said in that matter-of-fact voice that Padfoot was already starting to get tired of.
“I- er, sorry mate,” he mumbled.
But Padfoot stopped paying attention. Something had caught his eye, or well, his nose. The boy/potential man in the corner smelled, familiar. Too familiar. Like chocolate and home and sweaters level familiar. Pads quickly looked around for his luggage, that would surely verify… bollocks.
R.J. Lupin.
Remus John Lupin.
Shit.
—
Remus was having a particularly nice rest. Not exactly a nap. He was kind of just pretending to be asleep. It’s quite hard to sleep when your dead best friends’ kid is talking to his friends in the very same compartment. And one of Molly’s. Probably her youngest boy.
He was sort of listening in on their conversation. How could he not?
Don’t blame a man for being curious.
“Wait, Ron, did you forget that ‘Mionie was a girl again?”
“Wh-! No! I swear, ‘Mionie put the book down, please, oh Merlin it’s not even the first day and I’m going to end up in Saint Mungo’s,” a boy, presumably Ron, whimpered.
“You’re going to wish you never piped up, Ronald Billius Weasley,” A girl said.
“Oh no! Hermione brought out the full name! Ron, mate, you’re done for!” the other boy, Harry, was practically holding back laughter. You could hear it in his voice.
A short whacking sound happened and Harry laughed. He sounded like Lily. That was Lily’s laugh.
Remus smiled to himself. At least the boy was happy. And at least that part of his mum gets to live on. One of her best parts. That and her affinity for charms.
But, something was off. Remus felt eyes on him. Something, someone. Someone was watching. And the children were caught in their conversation.
So, who, or what, was it?
Remus couldn’t uncover himself without revealing that he’d been awake. And honestly, that’d just be awkward. But he couldn’t shake the feeling.
But then. The train stopped.
It just screeched to a halt.
The children let out various sounds of confusion.
Then it got cold.
Dementor.
It must be searching the train! But, what for? Who for.
No.
Remus knew.
The Ministry must think that Sirius is trying to catch Harry at Hogwarts. To ‘finish the job’ or whatever crap they were trying to push unto the public.
The compartment's sliding door screeched open. The sound like nails on a chalk board.
It somehow got even colder.
Then, Harry screamed.
—
Padfoot was ready to pounce and beat the shit out of the Dementor, when all of a sudden, Remus flung his coat into his seat and whipped out his wand.
“Expecto Patronum!” He shouted.
His patronus didn’t even form. Poor Remus, he couldn’t even materialize his patronus anymore, his padfoot. It was just the shield, but thankfully, it was more than enough.
The Dementor screeched and floated away.
Harry!
Pads jumped up onto the seats. Shit, Harry was passed out. Pads licked at his face, whining that sad whine that all dogs do.
He looked to Remus, hoping that he didn’t recognize him just yet, pleading with his doggish whine to help the boy.
And he did.
He’d turned his luggage, which James had bought for him back in 4th year, into one of those infinite storage bags, quite handy for a professor. Or werewolf. Remus stuck his arm in, reaching for something.
He pulled out some sort of potion. Maybe that would help? It’d have to, or else Remus is getting bit and not in the fun way.
He poured the vial down Harry’s throat. And it worked!
“What did you give him,” Hermione, forever the skeptic, asked.
“Just some extra strength pepper up I keep on me,” Remus’ still panicky voice said, “For late nights grading assignments, or having to deal with Snape.”
Good ole Remu!
“What- What happened?” Harry asked.
“Dementor, probably on the lookout for Sirius Black. The wizard who just escaped Azkaban and wants you dead.” Well shit. Remus thinks Sirius did rat out the Potters.
That definitely didn’t really sting.
“What! That’s crazy! There’s a killer on the loose, and he’s after me? Merlin’s beard,” Harry tried his best to act as if this, a) was new information, and b) was in any way true.
Surprisingly, it worked.
—
If Remus had learned anything from this interaction, it’s that Harry is a very, very , bad liar.
Which means, he knows something.
And that dog is starting to look familiar.