Chapter Text
The doorbell rang at Number Four Privet Drive. It was a rainy morning in Little Whinging, a Thursday. Vernon Dursley was away at work, though his wife, Petunia, was at home. It was the last day of June and 13 year old Harry Potter had arrived home from Hogwarts just a week prior. He was sad in his bedroom, laying back on his too-small bed, waiting for that doorbell. When he heard it, his heart began to beat faster. He sprang up, and then silently cursed himself, hoping that the springs weren’t too loud (which was a very foolish thought brought on by the anticipation of what was to come that day.)
Harry toed off his old trainers slowly and tip toed out of his bedroom and over to the stairs. He sat on them a step or two down and watched the interaction at the front door through the banister rails. Aunt Petunia opened the front door to Remus Lupin.
“ Hello, you’re Mrs. Dursley, right?” The man said and put a polite smile on. He had four thick scars running from the right side of his forehead to the left edge of his jaw, crossing his nose. Petunia straightened herself out.
“Yes. I don’t want to buy anything, or donate to the homeless.”
Harry mentally scoffed at her, Professor Lupin did not look homeless.
Lupin let out a short laugh, “I’m not here for your money. My name is Remus Lupin, may I please come in? It’s pouring.” Petunia nodded and side stepped to allow the man to enter the house.
Remus took his dark coat off and held it over his arm. He turned towards Petunia and spoke, “Could we sit in the parlor?” He followed the blonde into the living room.
Harry sighed and climbed down a few more steps to be able to see into the living room. Remus was sat on an arm chair. His aunt asked Remus if he wanted tea and he accepted.
Harry felt bad for the man. The living room was absolutely hideous. It was wrapped in an ugly dark yellow wallpaper covered in flowers and a paisley-like pattern. The main sofa, which sat in the middle of the room, was olive green with muted orange and blue flowers on it. It faced a television in front of three windows, all covered in heavy curtains that were pulled back, exposing the weather to the inhabitants. A matching chair sat to the right of the sofa, facing it, on which Remus Lupin was sitting. A gray brick fireplace was behind the chair, and the mantle above was covered with family photos of the Dursleys.
Petunia returned with a cup of tea and sat awkwardly on the sofa. “So, Mr. Lupin, how may I help you?” She asked in a mock-polite tone of voice.
Remus placed his teacup on a coaster on the table and gathered his thoughts. “Well, I understand that you’re Harry Potter’s aunt, yes? Well I am – was a close friend of his parents, Lily and James.” Petunia stiffened like a board, her eyes widening. “I have grown quite close with Harry since last September and, upon speaking with our ministry, I have been granted custody of Harry, along with a.. friend.”
Harry’s palms were clammy. He was nervous about living with Remus and Sirius. A week prior, after Sirius’ arrest, Dumbledore had spoken to the Minister of Magic privately. What was said, Harry did not know, but when Dumbledore returned to the hospital wing and spoke to him, Ron, and Hermione, he said that the Wizengamot would be administering Veritaserum to Sirius the following day. All went to plan and Sirius was officially declared innocent. The news had not been published yet, as the Minister was still trying to write a statement to give to explain how a screw up this big happened. The news would be published that day in a special edition of the Evening Prophet to make sure that everyone would read it and find out the truth.
Aunt Petunia spoke to Lupin. “So you’re here to take the boy? You?” She stuck her chin up and gave him a look of disgust.
“Yes. I have papers that you can--”
“I don’t care. You can take him! He’s ungrateful anyways. Boy!” She called. Harry stood quickly and tip toed back towards his room. She called for him again.
“Coming!” He called back, pulling his shoes back on. Less than a minute later, Harry trotted happily downstairs with a look of excitement on his young face. “Professor Lupin!” He said, walking over to the two adults. “I had no idea you’d be here so soon! I thought you said you would be here tonight, but I must have misread your lett--” Lupin cut him off, smiling.
“I apologize, Harry. Sirius pestered me all night to get you early, believe me. He wanted to come yesterday but I told him how you wouldn’t be expecting us and the owl wouldn’t arrive until today anyway.” He turned to Petunia, “I’m quite sorry for arriving unexpectedly early, Mrs. Dursley.” Lupin turned back to Harry. “How about I come help you pack your things, hm?” Harry nodded, surprised. He turned of the parlor and marched up the steps. The golden-blond man followed and Harry did not miss the look Petunia threw at him.
Harry’s bedroom was quite tiny, with just a twin bed, a small dresser, a tiny desk, and one window. Harry crouched under the bed and dragged out his trunk. “I haven’t even really unpacked. I’ve just been wearing the clothes I left here, I don’t want to get my good clothes dirty.”
He watched Harry walk the few steps to his desk and snatch Hedwig’s cage. “Well, Professor Lupin, I’m all ready to leave.”
Lupin laughed a bit, “Harry, there’s no need to call me ‘professor’ anymore, I’m not your teacher. I’m just Remus.” Harry nodded, it felt werid to call him Remus, far too informal.
Remus went to grab Harry’s trunk for him when he seized up. “Wait!” He cried. Harry dropped his things and pried open a loose floor board. Inside were a few items – a copy of Quidditch Through the Ages, a wizarding photograph of Ron, Hermione, and him, and a couple sugar quills. Harry shoved them into a pocket on his trunk and then said, “Okay, now I’m ready to go.”
Remus carried Harry’s trunk downstairs. “Well, Mrs. Dursley, it was nice to meet you, but we’re going to be leaving now.” He looked to her, standing in the doorway of the living room. Remus picked up his umbrella and opened the door, letting Harry out first.
The two of them walked down the brick towards an old cream colored car. “You can sit in the back seat with Hedwig.” The man opened up the back seat door for Harry to climb in. The seats were a lighter cream color. The car was clearly old and run down, there were a few tears here and there in the upholstery and the window crank was missing from one of the back seat doors.
Harry almost didn’t notice the large dog in the front seat. “Sirius!” He pet Padfoot, who proceeded to lick his hand, making him giggle.He was too distracted to listen to Remus open the trunk of the car and then shut it.
Remus walked back around the car and climbed into the driver’s seat. The car took a few tries to start, but Remus managed.
They drove mostly in silence. Harry was staring out the window, watching the houses he’d grown up nearby pass by for the last time. Relief washed over Harry the farther from 4 Privet Drive he got. He saw Piers Polkiss’ house and the primary school he attended. Funnily enough, he actually saw Piers during the drive. The car had to stop in traffic and outside of a convenience store across from his window, he saw Dudley and Piers buying cigarettes from a young man.
“I know it’s hard, Harry, moving and all. But, if you’d like, we can come visit.” Remus looked at him in the rear view mirror.
“That’s alright, I think I’d prefer if we didn’t visit. I’ve had enough of boring old Little Whinging to last me a lifetime.” Harry said, watching as Dudley lit a cigarette and took a drag. Remus craned his neck, still stopped in traffic, to see who Harry was staring at.
“Merlin, I could use a cigarette right now,” he muttered. “Do you know them? Are they your friends?”
Harry sighed. No, he didn’t know them anymore. This was the beginning of his new life, where there were no bully cousins, nor were there mean aunts and uncles. “No, I don’t.”
The light turned green and Remus turned back to the road. Once they drove out of Little Whinging and into a more rural area, Sirius transformed. His hair was much shorter than when they last saw each other. He was in a patterned paisley button up shirt, buttoned only to his chest, where it was open. Harry hated paisley, but Sirius seemed to look alright in it. Sirius turned around in his seat.
“Hello, Harry! I’ve missed you, how have you been?”
“I’ve been okay, cleaning and gardening, you know the drill.” They chatted for a bit about pointless things like the weather and magical politics.
The three of them drove for hours, until the sun was high in the sky. As they drove, the rain only got worse, making it seem much later than it actually was. Around noon, Harry spoke, “Where do you guys live?” He hadn’t thought to ask before.
“Devon. We live in a mostly wizarding village. It’s right by the ocean, you’ll love it. Old Graham Hill, it’s called.” Sirius said, staring out the window.
Harry didn’t respond, only nodded and continued to look out the window at the passing trees and fields. He was excited to be living with Sirius and Remus. In the back of his mind, he vaguely remembered that the Weasleys lived in Devon, he wondered how close together Ottery St. Catchpole and Old Graham Hill were.
Slowly, the houses got farther apart and the trees got wider and taller. The car took a lot of winding turns down roads with old signs and small shops. The buildings got closer together as they drove with wizarding shops like “Trunklebin’s Apothecary and Potions”, “Premium Racing Brooms and Supplies”, and “South Amesmond Street Magical Market” passing by. The buildings were old stone and brick and seemed to have apartments above them.
“Our home is a little ways away.” Sirius said, turning towards Harry in the back. He watched as wizards near the shops gawked at the muggle car cruising down the cobblestone streets, which was not a common occurrence.
After turning onto a few more roads, the trio pulled up to a small cottage, flanked by another two small cottages. The home was quaint with two chimneys and a winding path leading from a white wooden gate up to a white front door. On each side of this path was a garden with wildflowers and pumpkins growing.
Sirius undid his seat belt and turned around once again.
“Well, Harry, what do you think?” He asked with a smile on his face.
“I-I… It’s absolutely brilliant! Really!” Harry smiled and marveled at the home in front of him.
“Well, lets head inside. I’ll make us all some lunch and give you a tour of the neighborhood.” Remus offered and exited the car, then Sirius. Harry followed, snatching up Hedwig’s cage.
“Yeah, and then you and I can go shopping and I can get you some clothes.” Sirius walked over to the gate and opened it, motioning for Harry to walk through. The path was cobblestone and had bits of grass and dandelions pushing through.
Remus, ahead of the two black-haired people, unlocked the front door and entered the house. It smelled of pumpkin juice and vanilla, the walls were bare with only a few photographs and a mirror hanging up. Harry felt somewhat relaxed. This house was astronomically better than 4 Privet Drive. It had shoes scattered by the doorway, bits of dirt on the floor that were missed while sweeping, a marked up calendar by the kitchen doorway, it had life. It didn’t seem like a house out of a real estate magazine, it seemed real.
Remus hung up his coat and umbrella, then walked into the kitchen. Sirius placed his hand upon Harry’s shoulder.
“Your bedroom is the room with the open door upstairs. You head up there and I’ll bring your trunk in.” He said, leaving the house quickly.
Harry slowly traveled upstairs. There were three doors in the landing, one closed and two open. One was a bathroom and the other a semi-spacious bedroom with an old dresser and a bed in an ornate wooden frame. There was a desk pushed against the wall to the left side of the room, in front of a window which looked out onto the street. Harry watched Sirius close the fence gate with his trunk in hand.
The bedroom was not large. It was on the smaller side, but much larger than Harry’s old bedroom in Surrey. There was another window nearby the bed which looked at the side of the neighbor’s house. There was a closet on the opposite wall from the desk, the door was open and all it contained was a singular bar for hanging nice clothing and a wooden shelf above.
“Here we are, Harry.” Sirius said, placing the trunk next to the dresser. “I didn’t decorate, because I didn’t know what you’d like. We can go buy sheets, blankets, photo frames, and the like at Gidwillip’s Emporium today, if you want. I think the white sheets are a bit boring. Gidwillip’s sells clothes too, but they’re mostly wizarding robes. Shitty ones, at that. Everyone knows Madam Malkin’s is the best place for robes. There’s a muggle clothing shop across town we can check out.”
Harry smiled slightly nodded, “That sounds great. But aren’t you still a fugitive in the eyes of the wizarding world? Your innocence hasn’t been announced.”
“Oh, shit, that’s right. Erm,” Sirius shut his eyes and tried to think. Harry knew what he was trying to figure out – who would take him out shopping. Harry really wanted to go with Sirius, wanted to get to know him better.
“Well, what about Remus?” Harry asked.
“Please, he’s a workaholic and has no sense of fashion. I mean, I love him, but I don’t think you’d enjoy shopping with Rem.” Sirius said. “Listen, the Evening Prophetwill come out at six o’clock so we can just go out after that, yeah?”
“Sounds great, Sirius. What are we having for lunch?” Harry asked as he walked over to his trunk and opened it. It was stuffed full of items.
“Well, we don’t really know what you like to eat, so Remus said he’s just going to make whatever we have the supplies for and hope for the best.” Sirius leaned against the door frame.
“Oh. I’m not picky, really. I’m just starving.” Harry said. He pulled out his clothes and began to fold them on the floor next to his trunk, preparing to put them away. “Is Remus a good cook?”
“Fuck, he’s fantastic, Harry. He makes the best food. I, on the other hand, suck in the kitchen.”
Harry smiled. He placed his ratty old jeans in the bottom drawer and his t-shirts in the middle one. His pajamas, underwear, and socks ended up in the top drawer. Harry took out his few nice t-shirts and jeans, putting them in separate piles in the drawers from the old clothing.
“I’d like to think I’m a good cook, years of practice, y’know? But I absolutely hate cooking.” Harry shared. His Hogwarts robes were hung up in the closet on the of the few coat hangers on the rack. The black loafers were placed in the closet as well, on the shelf.
“Well, you don’t have to cook if you don’t want to. We’re here to take care of you."
Harry blushed, but before he could respond, Remus called up the stairs, “Lunch is ready, you two!”
“Come on, let’s go eat.”
On the small round table with the light blue table cloth sat three bowls of soup. “It’s dandelion soup. That’s what the green stuff is. It’s good, trust me.” Remus said, sitting. He was right, the soup was delicious and by the time he finished, Harry wanted seconds, though he didn’t want to ask. He didn’t want to come off as ungrateful or rude. After all, they had welcomed him into their home with open arms. When he was younger and would eat with the Dursleys, they would shout at him if he asked for more food. Harry was pulled from his thoughts by Remus’ calm voice.
“Would you like some more, Harry? There’s plenty.”
Harry worried it was a trick question, though he felt that Remus wouldn’t do that to him. “Um.. I’m alright.” Harry regretted what he said immediately afterwards for two reasons. It probably sounded like he didn’t like the soup at all and he did want more.
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be hungry.”
Harry smiled sweetly, hoping that his pounding heart was not audible. “I’m full, but it was really good. I think I’m going to go unpack the rest of my things. Thank you very much.”
He stood and carried his bowl and silverware over to the sink. He quietly exited the kitchen and walked back upstairs, sitting on his new bed. He had no idea why he was so nervous. He wondered if they could tell. Perhaps it was because he was in a very new environment, with his godfather and his professor? The thought made his stomach clench, quietly confirming his fears. He was afraid of this. Not necessarily of Sirius and Remus, but of the big changes happening. He felt like a burden and an inconvenience.
Harry had always been wary of adults. When he met Ron’s parents the previous summer, he’d been shocked to find that they actually liked him and didn’t mind his presence. It was surprising to see that Mr. Weasley didn’t slap Ron after the whole Ford Anglia Incident. If Harry had stolen Uncle Vernon’s car… It was anxiety inducing to think of what he’d do to him.
But with Remus the previous school year, it had been so different to how Uncle Vernon treated him. Remus seemed to enjoy his company. He offered to give him extra lessons and told him about his parents. It was strange. Remus reminded him of the stereotypical mother he would see in films he’s spy on his aunt and uncle watching, of Mrs. Weasley. The type of mother who would lick her finger to wipe off the bit of dried toothpaste from your cheek in the morning.
But Remus Lupin was not Harry’s mother, nor his father, which was why he felt like such a burden upon him. Sirius was a different story. He was his godfather. He was very honest and easy-going. He would swear around Harry and make jokes. Remus once told Harry through letters that Sirius and James were quite alike, both very loud and talkative. Sirius felt more like a friend than a parent. Harry could imagine, years from now, Sirius giving him advice about girls and how to woo them.
It was a very confusing shift in dynamic, from his terribly mean aunt and uncle to his loving, maternal professor and his rambunctious godfather. And it was scary, the two of them were types of adults Harry had never encountered before. Harry wondered if they would shout at him, as his uncle used to do, or, a thought that made him feel like he was going to vomit, hit him, as his uncle also used to do.
Harry stood up, trying to clear his thoughts. He opened Hedwig’s cage on his desk and let her fly about the room. She perched herself upon the headboard of the bed.
“Am I being irrational, Hedwig?” He whispered shakily, trying to will the tears that had welled up away.
She only hooted in response.