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Hello, having recently had a few complaints from people about canon and whathaveyou I feel that I should say right now that my story is not canon. It kinda starts out that way but quickly deviates in ways that you will find out soon (or not if you're a canon freak and are ready to leave round about now). This story has Harry and Remus as the main characters with Remus as Harry's godfather. There will be a lot of the teachers and it is only because of people's complaints (well not complaints as such but I lack a better word) that I add this to my opening chapter. That's all from me now and I hope you enjoy my story.

Harry Potter opened his eyes as he curled up in his small bed, in his small room in number 4 Privet Drive. The sunlight streamed in through the gap in the curtains, filling the room with dawn’s soft glow. It was summer now and it was still very early on in the morning. Glancing at the clock on the table he could see that it was only half past six. He sighed as he pulled the duvet back and reluctantly got to his feet.

“Morning.” Harry murmured as he walked over to Hedwig who was watching him from her open cage. He reached out to her and stroked her feathers gently, receiving an affectionate nip on his finger in return. He refilled her water for her and she took a drink from the small bowl he placed infront of her before hopping out of her cage and stretching her wings. Harry opened the window for her and she flew off out into the early morning. The fifteen year old watched her leave to go hunting, since he no longer had the means to feed her. He watched her until she was only a speck in the distance and wished that he could fly like she could. To be free… that would be the most wonderful feeling in the world. He turned away from the window and looked around his prison before crossing his cell and leaving the room to go down to the kitchen for breakfast.

Downstairs was utterly silent but for the sound of the ticking clock which hung on the wall. Harry wondered how many times more it would tick before his life ended and shook the thought from his mind; it was not good to think such morbid thoughts. He moved quietly around the kitchen until a series of thumps above him alerted him to the fact that Vernon was now out of bed and most likely not in the best of moods.

“Morning.” Harry said as Vernon walked into the room, dressed in pyjamas and a navy dressing gown, complete with fluffy slippers to which Harry had to suppress a smile, and had been doing since Petunia had bought them for him a couple of weeks ago. They had been a present to him on the day that Harry had arrived home as if to say that just because the boy was back didn’t mean that everything was bad. Having to convince his wife that he liked those most ghastly of slippers hadn’t been particularly high on the list of things that he wanted to do but he shut up and managed something along the lines of a grimace every time Petunia commented on them.

“Why are you up so early?” Demanded Vernon by means of a reply to his greeting. Harry wasn’t shocked by this response, after all the Dursleys hadn’t taken well to being threatened by his more intimidating friends. Most people would have left Harry alone after that but Vernon, not being a man to be bullied into ending his own bullying had carried on with the endless verbal abuse against the boy although he didn’t quite dare to strike the boy in case of any of his weirdness rubbing off on him. Dudley had reacted in much the same way that his father had i.e. he was verbally abusing him at every opportunity but there was one marked difference: Dudley didn’t care about his weirdness rubbing off on him and frequently took swipes at him when they passed in the hallway or on the landing or in any room of the house really, Dudley wasn’t picky, nor was he intelligent enough to really know the difference. This was one of the reasons that Petunia caught Dudley trying to make a sandwich in the bathroom and wondering where the toilet was in the living room.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Harry said, replying to his uncle’s demand. Vernon glared at him as he sat down at the kitchen table and awaited his breakfast. Harry sighed inwardly before moving to the fridge and taking out the bacon and eggs. It had become something along the lines of an irritating custom for Harry to make his uncle’s breakfast each morning just to remind both Harry and the rest of the family of the boy’s inferior status in the household. Harry moved automatically around the kitchen as he readied the breakfast that he wasn’t allowed to eat. He put the plate of food down infront of his uncle who muttered something under his breath and Harry left the room, retreating back to his bedroom.

He threw himself down on his bed and wondered why he had bothered to get up in the first place. Yesterday he hadn’t left his room at all except to go to the toilet when he had quietly left his room and returned immediately afterwards. He had spent most of his time dwelling on the past and his most horrific mistake to date – going to the department of mysteries. He missed Sirius terribly and he couldn’t help but blame himself; it all came down to the fact that he had been fool enough to think that Sirius would have ended up in the hands of Voldemort and that he had to save him. The whole thing was ridiculous of course and had he but stopped to think he may never have ended up going, but that was him all over: react first, think later. Or regret later, as the case may be. He took his wand from under his pillow, where it had lain, hidden from the eyes of his uncle and began to charm various items around the room. That was one small benefit that summer: he was allowed to use magic. He also knew that no one else his age could, or knew that they could at any rate. The ministry had been so busy dealing with Death Eaters recently that they had no real chance to bother with such trivial matters like underage magic and everyone who had been on that department had been removed to more important departments. The result had been that no one was monitoring the magic used by witches and wizards under the age of seventeen, leaving Harry charming things around his room with no repercussions. Except for Remus occasionally correcting him.

“If you keep changing the colour of things that way then you’re likely to set something on fire.” Remus said and demonstrated the method which would be less likely to go wrong and conjure flames instead to Harry who lay on his bed. Harry smiled slightly at the man who thought correcting him as an acceptable greeting.

“Good morning to you too.” Harry said before changing Remus’ hair to bright blue, without setting fire to it or causing any other unfortunate side effects, unless you counted Remus scowling at him and telling him to undo his spell. “No, I think blue hair suits you.” Harry said and declines his request to return his hair to it’s natural colour.

“And I think that blond hair suits you.” Remus said and a smile touched his lips as Harry’s hair lightened to the colour of Draco Malfoy’s. Harry’s eyes widened as he caught sight of his atrocious hair in the mirror.

“Change it back!” He demanded.

“Change mine back first.” Remus told him and grudgingly Harry changed it back. Remus toyed with him for a while afterwards, saying that he was going to leave his hair blond for everyone to see in September before Harry sent a hex in his direction and he removed the colour from his hair. “Getting dressed won’t kill you, you know.” He said once their hair was back to normal. He reached out to Harry’s pyjamas and touched them with his wand, causing them to change into his normal muggle clothes instantly. He had taught Harry how to do it but Harry felt slightly uncomfortable using the charm due to it going wrong every now and again which left him wearing the wrong clothes, or the right clothes back to front. Occasionally he would also end up wearing no clothes at all but that had only happened once or twice at the very beginning of his practice, luckily when he was alone.

“So how are you then?” Remus asked him and watched him carefully as he responded. He was worried about the effect that Sirius’ demise had had on Harry, he had been the only thing that had resembled anything like a parent to him and now he was gone. Naturally he, Remus, missed him too and spent many an hour wishing that Dumbledore had simply had the sense to tell Harry that Voldemort was trying to lure him to the Department of Mysteries. It was too late to regret that now. What was done was done and that was an end to it. He sighed inwardly and wished that he could take to heart what his mind told him but he couldn’t, he missed Sirius every minute and hated that he had lost him again after such a short time of being reunited with his old friend. Remus supposed that he should be thankful, after all, Harry very nearly ran after Sirius through the veil a moment later, if he hadn’t have held him back… He didn’t want to think what could have happened. His mind wandered back to what he had thought before about Voldemort luring Harry to the Department of Mysteries. Why had Voldemort wanted him there in the first place? He wondered. He knew that there was something to do with a prophecy in all this but then again that had been smashed during the battle. Some time ago he had questioned Dumbledore about it.

“It is not my prophecy to tell, Remus.” Dumbledore had replied to him, “I am certain that Harry will tell you about it when the time comes.”

When the time comes? What was that about? And what made him think that Harry would tell him? It wasn’t like they were particularly close to one another. Not that he wouldn’t like to be close to Harry, he did, very much indeed but it could be a very long time before Harry chose to open up to him. He thought that Harry would keep his secret as long as was possible, and for him that could be a very long time. He had heard about the way that the Dursleys were with him, the endless insults, arguments and orders. They treated him like a slave and Remus loathed the very sight of any of the three members of the family. He knew that Harry had spent his life hiding away his feelings: he had admitted that much during a conversation a day or two ago, although Remus got the feeling that Harry had let that slip out by accident.

“I’m fine.” Harry said to him and smiled slightly as if to show it. Remus shook his head at him; he had spent each day before and after the full moon pretending to be happy and alright, if anyone could tell a fake smile and fake cheeriness it was he.

“You’re not.” Remus contradicted him. Harry considered arguing with him but decided there was little point in the matter; Remus was right. “So do you want to talk about it?” Harry shook his head and declined his offer. Remus wasn’t particularly shocked by this; he had asked Harry if he wanted to talk more than once during their time together but he just didn’t particularly want to talk to anyone, about anything. He had seriously considered talking to Remus about Sirius but then again he didn’t particularly think that Remus would be altogether comfortable talking about his dead best friend with the boy that had caused his early demise. And there was no way that he was likely to talk about the prophecy with him. After a few well placed questions and a few comments from Remus, Harry had discovered that he didn’t know about the prophecy or what it had said and he had no wish to reveal it to him: the last thing that he wanted were people worrying about him, he just wanted to be left alone.

They talked for some time whilst shouts echoed around the house to Dudley who was too lazy to get up before midday. Eventually Remus got so annoyed with this that he cast a silencing charm around the room. Harry liked him being there. Although Harry couldn’t go to them until he had been at the Dursleys’ for at least a month there was no reason that they couldn’t go visit him. This had irritated Ron, Hermione and Ginny immensely due to their inability to apparate to the house and with no connection to the floo system on Harry’s end, there was no way that they could see him until he arrived. This hadn’t stopped anyone else however. Harry had received a visit from Dumbledore at the beginning of the holidays to see how he had been doing. Harry had managed to appear reasonably cheerful and had at least been doing something constructive – Transfiguration homework. Seeming satisfied, Dumbledore had left him with the words that it would only be one month until he could be away from them again. He received visits from the Weasley twins once or twice a week and from what they had been telling him their joke shop was doing fantastically. They had been spending quite a bit of their new found wealth on their younger siblings for things such as robes and school supplies. They had even bought Ron a new broom – a firebolt. Ron’s letters had gone on about this in detail, as if Harry hadn’t owned one first but naturally Harry didn’t point this out to him; his best friend was already seemingly jealous of him enough, he didn’t need reminding that the best thing he owned Harry had owned first.

Molly and Arthur Weasley had literally popped in to see him two days after he had arrived home and Arthur eventually managed to convince her to leave after quite a lot of mothering, something which Harry didn’t mind too much; it seemed very much like the way things had always been: Molly mothering him, and with everything seemingly changing some indication that not all was different was just what he had wanted. Sensing that Harry wasn’t bothered by her mollycoddling she had made it a habit of calling at least twice a week just to check up on him and make sure that he was eating well. Tonks had also come to see him early on and although she had only come just to make sure he was alright, after a couple of days silence in his letters to Ron and Hermione they had started talking and she had ended up informing him of various goings on around Grimmauld Place and the recent success of her favourite Quidditch team – Puddlemere United, and was very impressed to hear that he had known their reserve seeker personally. Since then she had visited him another three times just to chat. She told him that it was nice to escape Grimmauld Place for a while to see him and she was sure he was glad of their visits. Harry assured her that he was and he wasn’t lying; it cheered him immensely just to listen to someone’s talking about their days and their relatively normal lives for a while without having to talk too much about himself. With Remus it was different though. Remus wasn’t one to talk much about himself, leaving Harry constantly questioning him, learning magic, badgering him to teach him magic and occasionally talking about himself and his own life. Remus’ visits had been by far the most common, generally every other day and he stayed for quite a few hours at a time.

It was only eleven in the morning when Harry began to make their dinner. Petunia rarely cooked when Harry was home, since he was now at an age where they believed him capable of cooking all their meals without poisoning him (although they always shot him a suspicious look when they took their first mouthful). Remus stood by the side of him, offering him help which was repeatedly declined by a quiet Harry. They couldn’t talk much in the kitchen in case Harry was overheard. Remus had put some kind of disillusionment charm on him which allowed him to be seen and heard only by those who possessed magic and he could have shouted as loudly as he wanted in the house but only Harry would have heard him.

“Harry, if you would let me help…” Remus said to the young boy who stirred the sauce in the pan. Harry shook his head.

“No, I’m not going to let you cook for them, this is my job not yours.” Harry murmured in reply to the man who stood close to him in order to hear his soft replies.

“You shouldn’t have to be cooking for them either.” Remus said to him, “You cook all this for them but you hardly eat a thing yourself.” Harry said nothing in reply as Dudley walked through the kitchen at this moment, meaning that to reply would be to either hint at usage of magic or depletion of sanity. As much fun as it could be to convince Dudley that he was utterly insane Harry decided it wasn’t worth the punishment he would get when Petunia and Vernon discovered his sanity as reasonable as it ever was.

Harry silently cursed himself for at not making a small effort to eat a little when Remus was around. He knew that the man wasn’t stupid, far from it so why he had thought he wouldn’t notice his lack of meals was beyond even himself. When the meal had been readied he disappeared from the room quickly to leave the Dursleys to their meal, taking nothing for himself to which Remus protested. He went to his room and grabbed a jumper which he tied around his frighteningly thin waist before he and Remus left the house.

“I know that after the events of last year you’re reasonably shaken…” Remus ventured as they walked down the street together. “But that’s no excuse for not eating properly.” When they were out of the house Remus changed into muggle clothes and wandered around the town together, able to talk quite freely. It was also a time when Remus found it easiest to try and talk to Harry about the events of the previous month, with other people around which could help prevent Harry from completely blowing up at him if his questioning went too far and enough distractions and things to focus on if they ended up lapsing into silence. This was added to the fact that Harry was generally more at ease once he was out of his prison and made him much easier to talk to.

“I’m eating well enough.” Harry said to him as they turned the corner towards the park.

“You could have fooled me, you hardly ever eat from what I’ve seen and heard.” Remus retorted.

“I don’t have to eat whilst you’re here. You’re not with me for 24 hours a day.” Harry said to him.

“You can’t use that as your excuse, you’ve not eaten since I got here and I was here at around seven this morning Harry. I saw you in the kitchen and you didn’t have any breakfast. It’s now almost midday and you’ve yet to eat something!” Remus scowled at him as they entered the park.

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” Harry said mildly.

“How can I not, with you starving yourself!?” Remus demanded of him, “This on top of the fact that you’re constantly trying to maintain a reasonably cheerful air around everyone despite your being miserable. If you’re not even going to be truthful about how you’re feeling then why on earth should I trust that you can take care of yourself?” Remus watched Harry carefully to observe his response.

“Can you blame me for being miserable?” Harry asked him, “And everyone’s always so bothered about me even when I’m happy! If I appear unhappy then don’t you think that’s going to get even worse?”

“If you want leaving alone you have only to say, Harry.” Remus said to him, “But letting people know that you’re unhappy won’t hurt. People can’t expect you to be particularly cheerful after what’s happened.”

“I know. Just forget about it, Remus.” Harry said to him as they walked around the park. When Remus had visited him for the first time Remus had been irritated by his still calling him ‘professor’ and he argued that Harry hadn’t been his student for more than two years. Despite this Harry still occasionally called him ‘professor’ to annoy him when in better spirits. This was not one of those occasions however. They talked more as the completed their lap around the park and wandered elsewhere around the town. Remus had tactfully changed the subject of their conversation to something else which was of interest to them both - something he was getting quite good at since Harry often dodged discussions of a certain nature – namely of himself.

“I hate to leave you but the Order are meeting in five minutes.” Remus said to him as they walked back down towards Privet Drive. Harry nodded to him, quite sorry to lose his company. “I’ll see you again in a day or two.”

“Alright.” Harry smiled at him as they stopped at the end of the street. “I’ll see you then.”

“Take care of yourself Harry, please.” Remus said to him, resting his hand lightly on his shoulder and examining the boy’s face which was lacking any real happiness although that was to be expected, he supposed. He noticed how tired he looked and how the dark shadows under his eyes were beginning to give him a gaunt look. He told Harry that he needed more sleep and Harry’s complete and utter lack of energy that day had confirmed that he just wasn’t sleeping properly as well as eating. If he carried on the way he was then chances were that he would have collapsed by the end of the week. He sighed inwardly and hoped that Harry would heed his pleas to take better care of himself.

“I will.” Harry said earnestly. He knew that he had recently been depriving himself of sleep and food and was fully aware that it was doing him no good. If Remus was noticing how thin and tired he looked then he supposed that he should at least attempt to do something about it. He smiled slightly to the man who bid him goodbye before disappearing from the deserted street with a crack, leaving an odd feeling on Harry’s shoulder where his hand had been a moment before. He turned and walked past the sign which read ‘Privet Drive’ and walked slowly back to his prison.

A/N: Those of you who have read my first fanfic 'Harry Potter and the Hopefully Interesting Sixth Year' are probably thinking that I'm going to end up writing the same story again but with a few slight differences. If you keep with this though I would like to show you that this is not the case and there is a vague sort of plot in the works which shouldn't be very similar to the one in my other fic, although Remus and Harry's relationship will probably end up being the same. Hope you liked this chapter and I hope to get a new one up soon :o)

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