Disclaimer: I Do not own Harry Potter. The end.

Authors Note: Yes, I'm alive and Yes, Jar of Dead Cockroaches will be updated every week and many many MANY apologizes for the wait but my beta reader and I have been working extremely hard on this chapter and we have both been very busy with our lives during the time being. SO please NO flames unless it's constructive. We like those kind! Enjoy! (reread the end of chapter four if you forgot what happened before this)

Chapter 5- of dogs and werewolves.

Most dogs generally speaking, are docile, loving, and friendly. They would never harm a fly. Well, then again, maybe they might attempt to hurt a flea or an old house cat. Maybe even an old, wrinkly, blue-eyed, extremely powerful Hogwarts Headmaster... but certainly not a fly. Dogs are also generally easy to train, yet it still remains a mystery why they are not popular wizard pets. Perhaps it’s because all they can learn to do is “Sit” and “Stay.” These two commands might have come in handy for Remus Lupin to have his spunky pup know. Some dogs aren't so easy to handle, especially big black ones such as an Animagus named Sirius Black. Many would have called this so called “dog” barking mad. This is literally speaking, of course.

“WHERE IS MY GODSON?” barked Sirius Black as he swiftly changed from a beast into a man. His characteristics were still unmistakably canine-like as he continued to flash pearly white teeth at his audience.

A thin, slender-built Remus Lupin with light brown hair streaked with strands of gray, strode into the infirmary as quickly as his tired legs could carry him. He was exhausted and more so than usual due to the monthly effects of the full moon. It had taken an enormous toll on his body during the transformation from man into wolf and after undergoing it only two nights ago he was baffled to discover how much energy he could muster up to chase after Sirius.

“Sirius, please! Let's be reasonable here!” He pleaded in all high hopes that Sirius would, and for once in his troublesome life, just bloody listen to him.

“It may not be what it looks like,” he added in quickly, but not even he could believe his own words no matter how hard he wanted himself to. Everything was exactly what it looked like here and it was anything except good.

“WHERE IS HE?? WHERE IS—” but Sirius was cut off by a familiar hand from a familiar old man. The headmaster raised his other hand to silence Sirius and did this with a voice light enough to ease a dragon's rage. Dumbledore, dressed down in elegant purple robes, was looking plagued.

“My boy, please...” started Dumbledore sounding like he was actually pleading with Sirius, but the angry man's face turned multiple shades redder by the second.

Remus mused to himself that it looked like his friend had been hit with some bizarre coloring curse. It reminded him during the times that he and the rest of the marauders had turned one of their Professor's hair color maroon. James and Sirius were constantly getting away with murder for performing such pranks on their peers, especially on those slimy Slytherins.

“DON'T YOU EVEN DARE!” erupted the explosion coming from within the frantic man's throat. Remus latched both of his fragile hands onto Sirius' stockier shoulders in attempt to hold him back.

“Sirius...” he warned as he spoke calmly into his friend's ear, “Your temper isn't helping this situation...”

Sirius wasn't caring at all though. He snarled dangerously at the headmaster while fixing his dark eyeballs onto the older man's dazzling blue ones.

“Not now Remus!” he hissed without sparing his friend a single glance.

It was more like 'not ever' and Remus scuffed at the thought. How could he even believe that Sirius was going to listen to him? This certainly would be a first if he decided too! Remus placed a sweaty palm on his forehead to catch the droplets of sweat that were accumulating bellow his swollen eyes. Sirius could be more thick headed than a troll at times but at least he meant well.

He was a man known for taking action for what he believed in but he often acted without thinking through his actions. It had to be frustrating for him, that much Remus knew, but who could blame Sirius for it? He was forced to go into hiding and if he decided otherwise there was that huge risk the he could get caught and sent back to Azkabam or worse; the Dementor's Kiss could surely be arranged.

Remus knew that Sirius knew better and that he wouldn’t take a risk that big. Harry needed them now and Sirius would risk it all just to make sure that his godson was safe. Remus' spine suddenly became a lot stiffer thinking about what might have happened to the boy.

“WHERE IS HE, DUMBLEDORE?”

It was a simple question actually, and there should have been an even simpler answer. Remus was an intelligent man; he knew he could put the puzzle pieces together if he put his mind to it, but the way that Dumbledore was looking at them was making his stomach drop fifty feet. There was a piece missing from this puzzle and Remus could not find it. Something was very, seriously off.

'Where is Harry? What else does Albus know that we don't?'

Sirius was clawing at his robe pocket for his wand and Remus knew that at the rate they were going, they were never going find out what happened to the boy nor get to see him.

“Sirius,” tried Remus cautiously as he squeezed his friend's shoulders again while trying to grab his attention, “Sirius, maybe we should hear what the Headmaster has to say.”

He didn't have to say a thing. Sirius Black pointed an accusing finger at the old man before them and fixed his eyes on Remus seriously. His long, messy hair fell over his face like it did during all his years he had been kept locked away in Azkabam. Strangely enough, he looked like the psychopath everyone in the wizarding world claimed him to be. He looked crazy, wild and more importantly, ravenous for revenge.

“I don't care...” panted Sirius heavily, “...what he has to say!”

Remus sighed to himself and squeezed Sirius' shoulder tighter. His friend's grizzly, wild fringes fell over his graying eyes that were glinting in pure madness, yet Dumbledore remained unnerved by the situation although he looked incredibly remorseful. Remus, as tired and worn out as he was, was growing jitterier as the minutes passed by. It was absolutely dreadful.

“I do assure you both that Harry is in fact, unharmed,” began the Headmaster slowly and with a sincere smile planted across his face. Remus dropped his shoulders in relief but at the same time felt great tension building up inside the room. Everything was feeling rigid now to Remus and his enhanced hearing could pick up the staggered breathing being emitted by his best friend beside him as well.

Remus watched in amazement as Sirius' face turned from a deep, lavish red color to one that was stark white and chalky. His body was trembling, his eyes were as wide as dinner plates, and his cheeks were so pinched inside his mouth that they were most likely gushing blood.

“You...” growled Padfoot in a maliciously low voice, “You're full of lies, Dumbledore.”

Behind the controlled exterior of the Headmaster was a hint of uneasiness. Professor McGonagall looked at Dumbledore with guilt as if she too knew more. The abrupt halt of the clinking of calming draft vials alerted both men that Poppy was disturbed as well. Remus stared wide eyed at Dumbeldore and at the rest of the staff that was in the room looking from the Headmaster to Professor McGonagall to Madam Pomfrey in an absolute questioning way.

Sirius wasn't done yet either as his chest continued to heave up and down rapidly from his previous antics. Small beads of sweat were forming on the top of his head and trickling down to his steel gray eyes.

“Tell me, headmaster...” continued Sirius as his eyes shifted over momentarily to an overly heart-wrenched Remus, “If I haven't encountered my house elf any sooner...”

The room grew quieter, and even Remus didn't have any words of comfort for his friend about the shocking discovery. Sirius was speaking for both of them now.

“Would you have told us?” interrogated the man, “Harry is all Remus and I have left, and if anything-” but Sirius couldn't bring himself to say what he wanted to as he was now quaking in anger, fear, and too many raw emotions that were becoming more increasingly impossible to pinpoint.

'If anything ever happened to that boy...'

Oh! Remus wouldn't be able to take it! He couldn't even think about it without feeling sick to his stomach. He would be at such an enormous loss if he lost Harry--both he and Sirius would be.

Remus had many terrible regrets though, almost as much as Sirius-for not being there for Harry prior to his third year. It just had to happen that placing a baby, especially if that baby happened to be the boy-who-lived, in the care of a werewolf during that time wasn't the best idea in the book. He would have taken the boy in gracefully if it was legal, but werewolves by law weren't allowed to have children unless under certain circumstance-Magical Research-according to the Ministry of Magic. Harry would have had to be cared for by a non-werewolf guardian as well. This made it impossible, Sirius was sent off to Azkaban and Remus didn't necessarily “meet” anybody that would be able to play the part as a “mother” to Harry. Even if he actually did happen to meet someone during such a late point in his life it would be way too late. Harry was fifteen now...

“Kreacher has alerted us about Harry's state, Headmaster,” said Remus with a heavy heart and voice containing more malice than he intended for.

He frowned in displeasure, silently recalling what had occurred only mere minutes ago. Remus had been on his way to leave Number 12 Grimmald place when all of a sudden, a loud crashing noise and an enraged holler echoed through the hallways. Remus was caught in surprise as he had spun around to find a raving Sirius Black dragging his house elf down the stairs by the rags. Remus was even more shocked when the man had failed to acknowledge him in the room and started to strangle Kreacher up against a wall. Remus rushed over to Sirius before he murdered the sad little creature and to his own expense, discovered what was driving the other man completely bonkers. Harry was in trouble and they weren't going to be told about it.

Sirius snapped his eyes open at his friend's statement and glowered in pure frustration. “…Alerted us? Remus, you must be mad! I had to strangle the piece of filth before I even got a damn word out of him!”

Remus sighed and gave his friend a reproving look, “What Sirius means, Headmaster, is that Kreacher was very vague on the details about what happened to Harry. We would like to know more about it.”

Remus cocked his head suspiciously at the wise old man, and from doing so it became obvious that Dumbledore knew way more than he was letting on. Remus was tired, so very tired, but his mind was crazed with worried thoughts. Never mind his previous thoughts about Harry being all they had left, they themselves were all the boy had left as well!

“And you will momentarily be given that information, my dear boys,” nonchalantly replied Dumbledore who was now turning to Professor McGonagall. Their old Transfiguration Professor and the Head of Gryffindor kept glancing repeatedly at the clock that was hanging over head. It read a quarter to ten precisely, and because it was so late Poppy had also dimmed down the lights until they were all engulfed in darkness. The little medi-witch then returned to the group with a tray of calming drafts and other potions.

“Minerva, if you wish to be excused from further discussion you have my permission. I understand that you do have other important matters to take care of. I will have Poppy or Severus alert you of any further changes to Harry's condition.”

Remus' drooping eyes snapped open with confusion and great interest.

'Snape is here too? And wait...what condition is Dumbledore talking about?'

He then inclined his head around the headmaster and caught sight of a man melting away into the darkness of the room. He was dressed down entirely in those infamous black robes, had cold tunnel black eyes and greasy black curtains for hair. He was away from the rest of them and off by himself in the back of the room. Remus, however, wasn't looking entirely at Snape as it wasn't he who had caught his eye but at what the man was standing next to; a very messy, unmade infirmary bed.

“His condition?” inquired Remus curiously as he turned back to Dumbledore thinking that he hadn't heard him correctly. He looked around to all of the staff for answers, minus Minerva who had flooed herself back to her office. His eyes even glanced back at the aloof Severus Snape. For a moment, their gazes locked and it wasn't pleasant. The chills that were running down Remus' spine from those penetrating orbs gave him no lead way to what was going on. He could tell that the snarky Potions Master didn't want to give away anything; it was frustrating enough as it was that Remus didn't have a single clue about what was going on. The Headmaster lifted up his chin and nodded slowly.

“Yes, his condition,” confirmed Dumbledore solemnly.

Remus felt his stomach sink lower into his aching guts as the old man continued. “It seems that our young Harry has had an accident in Professor Snape's office before his Occulumency lesson. He now has no memory of the incident. He doesn't know who we are or where he is. I do not believe that the poor boy can even recall his own name so if you two will kindly take caution approaching him...”

Sirius didn't allow Dumbledore to finish speaking as he launched himself forward and broke away from Remus's flaky grip. Sorely believing that his friend was going to attack the old headmaster, Remus launched himself after Sirius. He had to stop him before...

“SIRIUS!” he shouted trying desperately to hold back his friend's antics, but he had ignored Remus and bitterly whipped out his wand. However, it wasn't Dumbledore who the seething man was after. Remus' wolfish eyes widened in surprise as he watched in horror as Sirius zoomed past the headmaster and headed straight towards the back of the room. There stood a certain man, one who was dressed in black robes and standing next to a certain unmade bed with white sheets belonging to a certain somebody.

Remus dropped both arms in defeat as he thought back to what Dumbledore had just told them. His mind was racing now, yet nothing was adding up.

An accident...a condition...memory loss...

Suddenly everything became much clearer as Remus failed to suppress his shock. A few mumbled words could barely be heard from his exhausted thin lips as he squinted his eyes enough to see a mop of black hair huddle behind Snape's darker form in the back of the room. Could it be?

Sirius didn't see the boy there...

His mouth was bone dry; he needed water, in fact he needed to sit down as he was feeling so faint that he thought he might pass out.

“Sweet Merlin...Harry...”

...

A Potions Master's excellent hearing always came in handy for crucial moments such as these. The corners of Severus' lips twitched in glee as he heard the dumbstruck Lupin mumble through his awe. The werewolf looked shocked to the core in fact; he looked as if something bizarre had smacked him squarely in his chest as realization dawned upon him. Severus could tell that Lupin had figured it out that Potter was hiding from them all in fear, although it was a pity that it was so late.

And this was one of Gryffindor's brighter students…Sarcastically thought Severus as he observed the mangy werewolf from a far.

Then suddenly his individual attention was drawn away from the flabbergasted werewolf when he felt a slight tugging on the back of his lengthy, bellowing black attire. Without moving a muscle, the Potions Master averted his cold, calloused eyes downward at the source of such pulling. From the corners of his pupil he could see that the mindless Potter was no longer standing up cowering from behind Severus-like he was previously seen doing so. He was now kneeling down instead. The senseless boy curled up into a ball on the floor and was disparately clenching onto Severus’ adorning black robes as if his life depended sorely upon doing so. He grasped harder, tugging them in downward motion similar to that of a child demanding to be held. The boy, and to Severus’ great discomfort, was attempting to wrap himself underneath them.

“Potter, I highly suggest you make an effort to contain yourself at once,” scolded Severus in a voice that was deadly calm. To reinforce his reprimanding, the Potions Master narrowed his bleak eyes and roughly yanked the robe away from the child's grip. Potter looked like he was at a loss with himself; he gazed, dazedly with great betrayal on his face. Snape's lips were drawn in a fine, thin line as he tried to hide the frown that was forming from watching the boy cringe in such fear.

How strange this was that Potter was so... attached to him. It was atypical nature of a Potter and as the offspring of one it should have been forbidden for the child to console in Severus the snarky Potions Professor that was reviled by many. This boy would never go looking for comfort in his most hated Hogwarts Professor no matter what and this is why it was so strange.

The Potter that Severus knew for the past five years would have rather chosen death over trying to find safety behind his worst enemy's back. What was even more bizarre and completely absurd about the whole situation was that the boy had--within the crevices of his mind--somehow remembered that Severus was “Snape.” He had to admit it-- but even he was a little caught off guard by Potter's unexpected outburst.

Yet, something was still completely off about the little brainwave that the boy had likely experienced. Potter had frantically called out Severus' name as if he was under attack. The way he had called him “Snape” was alarming and...well... not very like Potter at all. His eyes were blazing in fear instead of that unconquerable, detestable courage that was normally there. Then there was the immediate need of protection which Potter displayed better than an abused animal. At first Severus was angry at the boy. As a matter of fact, he had been absolutely livid--thinking that Potter was going out of the way to try to embarrass him. After Severus concluded that perhaps the child had been gaining back some memory after all. He thought that perhaps Potter had actually remembered more than that Severus was “Snape.”

Oh, how he thought wrong...so very very wrong.

...

Sirius' haunted expression was restored back to a flushed crimson red color as he approached his childhood enemy at an alarmingly fast speed. His livid expression held nothing but pure loathing for the snarky, greasy-haired, git.

“Snivellus!” glowered Sirius in hatred as he raised his wand. With keen canine instincts, he watched Snape with an intense gaze as the man's lanky fingers disappeared into his dark robes. The sodding Potion's Master that Sirius had grown to hate over the progressing years smoothly removed his own wand from his pocket.

“I should have suspected that you had something to do with this!” roared Sirius again as the hooked nosed man raised a single eyebrow distinctively.

“Is that so, Black?” challenged the other with a pronounced sneer, “Why not blame the godfather who was—ah—hand picked from the litter of marauder mutts by the infamous James Potter to insure the survival of his pup?”­­­

Sirius let out a vicious growl and flashed his teeth once again. Unbearable heat began to prickle on the back of Sirius' sweating neck. His twitching fingers twisted around his wand anxiously as he itched to throw an Unforgivable curse at the slimy bastard.

Snape didn't seem to mind Black's flaring form as he lifted up his chin in triumph. He let out a chuckle, “Or was the responsibility too much for you to handle?” whispered the man sleekly, “Seeing how blatantly irresponsible you are for your own doltish actions it is really no surprise that your godson got into enough mischief to erase every single pathetic memory that he held so dear of you and your werewolf friend.” After that sneered comment, Sirius was ready to hex the git to hell. How dare he talk about Harry in that way! How dare that greasy bastard mention Remus!

“I've warned you, Snivillus!” Sirius snarled, “I've warned you before that if anything happened to Harry you will have me to answer to.”

Sirius was shaking now, he wasn't sure if it was from his seething anger towards Snape or from his overbearing concerns for his godchild. At the moment, he couldn't decide on which emotion he was feeling more of. His eyelashes flashed maliciously at Snape and suddenly Sirius' decisions became suddenly very easy for him...

Too easy in fact...

“I'll do anything to insure that Harry is safe, and that means safe from you!”

He flushed an even deeper crimson color, almost purple as he raised his wand higher and aimed it squarely at Snape's enormous hooked beak.

“And I mean anything,” enforced Sirius as he glared deadly daggers at his enemy. If looks could kill Snape would have dropped dead in seconds and then proceeded to burst into a heap of flames but he remained perfectly unmoved by the threat. Although his enemy seemed rather unshaken by the situation set in front of his enormous large beak, there was still certainly something abnormal that Sirius could detect stirring around Snape's insides. For only a split second, his enemy's charcoal, bleak eyes--which were normally as hard as stone--glinted in sudden alarm.

So I did happen to frighten the coward, after all. Thought Sirius with a smirk, The sniveling bastard...

Sirius stood up straight as it was now his turn to bask himself in victory, but Snape nonchalantly waved his accomplished expression away with a free hand. The look of unease faded as quickly as it arrived which gave Sirius no time to pick open the tortured man's old wounds.

“How very touching,” commented Snape dryly, “However, its imaginable to find that your words hold little veracity Black, because as narrow minded as you are, I find it impossible that you are capable of doing anything.” Snape's tone was deadly as he put deliberate stress on the words, “To me...for the Order...” the corners of Snape's lips curled up in amusement, “Or even for your precious godson. That is of course considering the quite pathetic little situation you've gotten your sorry self into.”

Sirius' already reddened face flushed deeper from the embarrassment.

“Bullocks!” Sirius rebuked, “We all know that your situation is far more pathetic than mine, huh Snapey?” snarled Sirius with a vicious grin, “You and Voldemort must be getting on quite well together aren't you, Death Eater!”

Now it was Snape's turn to be embarrassed. His high, very pronounced cheekbones flushed a light pink. Sirius chuckled maliciously and spoke to the other man not much louder than a mere whisper.

“So how many casualties today, Ol Snivley? Five...ten...fifteen maybe? Was Harry going to be one of them? I bet your master is going to be anything but pleased that you've failed him.”

The greasy-haired man crossed his arms against his chest and emitted a very low but audible growl. His impenetrable eyes narrowed in scrutiny at the other.

“Careful, Black,” warned Snape. Now Sirius raised an eyebrow.

He didn't even bother to lower his wand seeing that Snape too was already in attack mode. Remus called out his name once again and pleaded for him to back down. Sirius knew that enough was enough in Remus’ book.

“Sirius, are we here to get in a row with Snape or are we here to see Harry?”

Then it hit him. Hard. His eyes widened at mentioning of the boy's name. It was James' son, his godchild. If Sirius had been in his Anamigus form he would have whimpered after hearing it.

Harry...

“Enough games, Snivillus! I suggest you start telling me where Harry is...or else I’ll have to take matters into my own hands,” Sirius said stepping forward so that he and Snape were now squaring each other up. Both wands were still pointing at the other's chest. Sirius watched in glee as Snape had to tilt his head slightly back so that he could meet his eyes. Sirius did in fact, have a few good inches on his opponent. However, to his own dismay this fact didn't seem to faze Slytherin's Head of House one bit.

“Alright, Black,” said Snape with a devious grin, “I'll tell you where your precious Potter is.”

The Potion's Master looked as if he knew when the world was going to end...for Sirius that was. He cocked his head and glared at his childhood enemy very suspiciously.

What is Snape up to?

This man was not one to be trusted, and Sirius still to this day could not believe why Albus felt honored to have him in the Order. What did the greasy-haired bastard ever do to deserve such trust from such a powerful wizard like Dumbledore? Snape was originally Voldemort's lackey of all things. How was it so easy for him to reform? Snivillus Snape, Dumbledore's man or Voldemort's servant? It didn't make sense at all nor did it add up. The thought alone of Snape being “trustworthy” made Sirius have the sudden desire to vomit.

Sirius' eyes lit up with interest as he saw Snape looking more pretentious than he normally did. Something just wasn't right.

“I find it a shame though that you didn't care to realize that Potter…” started Snape with a twisted smirk, “..Happens to be right in front of your very nose.”

With those few words, Snape glanced over his shoulder and Sirius perked up his head now intrigued by the sneaky Slytherin's words. The Potion's Master stepped casually to the side to reveal a hunched figure, a teenage boy in fact. This “boy” was clutching furiously at Snape's billowing black robes. This “boy” was hiding behind him like that of a wounded animal.

This boy...it just can't be...

Sirius pocketed his wand right away after seeing that this hunched figure was no ordinary figure but a certain teenage boy with a certain messy clump of black hair.

Oh but it is...

Sirius knew that that black tuff could only belong to one child. Actually, now that he thought about, it could have belonged to two children. This particular black raven colored hair once belonged to his best mate, James but it wasn't him, he was in a better place now, it had to be the other child and it was!

“Harry!” exclaimed Sirius in relief, yet something was keeping him uneasy. Something kept Sirius well on the edge of the cliff that he felt like he had climbed just to see his godchild.

Sirius was still unsure. He didn't want to believe that Harry didn't know who he was. Perhaps if he tried to jog the boy's memory a little bit.

The boy didn't dare to look up as he called out his name. Instead the child that Sirius was so certain was Harry, buried his face deeper into the black robes of his worst enemy, Snape.

Well this is new... thought Sirius as his stomach crammed up in nervous twitters. Even if Harry lost his memory why would he be latched on to Snape and not him? After all he is the nicer one out of the two.

Something isn't right...but...

It didn't matter. It didn't matter that Harry was clinging onto Snape as if his life depended on it. Harry is alive, Harry is safe. Harry was in the land of the living and as long as he was, everything was going to be ok right?

Harry was just a little scared from what had happened right? He didn't really lose all his memories right?

But of course he had...

“Harry?”

The boy was almost kneeling on the floor as he held onto dear Snape's fabrics. Sirius ignored the man, who he so blindly hated, completely as he cautiously moved closer to his godson not wanting to startle him but wanting him safe in his arms nonetheless. However, from the looks of it the boy didn't want that.

Then suddenly it mattered.

“Harry, it’s me! It's Sirius!”

Everything mattered because something was terribly wrong with everything. Harry wouldn't acknowledge him; yes, he knew the memory wasn't there but he wouldn't spare him even a single glance! That wasn’t even the worst of it, but Harry was literally clinging onto Voldmort's most trusted Death Eater lackey! Everything was spinning upside down and inside out. Sirius couldn't help but wonder what the wizarding world was coming to. Perhaps Snape would shampoo his hair next.

“Harry! Do you hear me, Harry? ”

He was trying to remain calm, but Sirius Black wasn't known for his tranquility. Instead he flew into a frenzy and without much thought about what was going on, lowered himself and reached out to Harry to grab his shoulder.

The boy snapped up his head from his knees and spun around as if he was going to be killed with a killing curse. He let out an unexpected gasp of surprise and shied away from Sirius' touch as if he had been poisoned in someway.

Harry's white knuckles released his protector's robes at once as Sirius was hoping he would do but only to his confusion did the boy retreat to the other side of the room away from them; away from him. He was standing up against the wall, eyes wide, and with glasses askew as his pale face stared at Sirius like he done years ago before they've met and when Harry presumed him as a murder.

Sirius was even more confused when Snape actually snapped at him for touching Harry. Yes, for touching his own godchild! Since when had Snape become so concerned for the son of James Potter?

“Black! How thick-headed are you? Potter is delirious, caution was advised. Although, I can assume you are worse off than the child is as you continue to ignore the fact that Potter has lost his mind, you dunderhead!” the man snorted in disapproval and gave Sirius a hard, cold glare. “The Headmaster's warnings shall not be taken lightly.”

“Oh what do you know, Snape!” snarled Sirius nastily, “It's not like you care about Harry anyway.”

...

Emerald green eyes contacted with dark yet swirling black ones as he tried to tell the Man-in-Black, Snape, to help him. The Dog-Man was talking very harshly to Snape and right away the boy knew that he couldn't trust this man. This boy wasn't sure what else he could do to make him go away--other than huddle up against the wall.

“Harry, it’s me Padfoot! Your Godfather Sirius Black! Don't you remember me? Snuffles? What about Buckbeak? Don't you remember him? ”

The Dog-Man was speaking softly to him now...which was confusing. Also, this man was calling him “Harry” and not “Potter” like Snape had called him before. This was also confusing. What was even odder about this man was that he would start fighting with the Man-in-Black and then he would start talking nicely to the boy. “Harry” didn't know what to make of this Sirius Black. The Dog-Man looked distraught and defeated, yet angry and sour after the boy shook his head, indicating no. Harry (or Potter was it?) didn't remember any man named Padfoot. Nor did he remember that he had a Godfather named Sirius Black.

“Oh Harry...Harry I…” the man's face scrunched up in frustration, “I'm not going to hurt you. I promise.”

But the promise wasn't enough for Harry. As the Dog-Man out stretched his hand to reach out the boy recoiled away from him like a snake.

“You can trust me. We're buddies you and me...you rescued me in your third year...surly you must remember,” tried Sirius, pleading with hope; his voice was slowly diminishing into nothing…as Harry showed no signs of recognition.

Harry shook his head again and pressed harder into the blank wall. Tears of terror were stinging his eyes and were screaming at the man to leave. He couldn't trust him, the strangeness was too much to handle. No man on Earth who had the ability to change from a black beast into a man could be trusted. Harry couldn't go by these promises from such a stranger.

The Dog-Man went very quiet suddenly as if he too knew that his attempts to get closer to Harry were in vain. The man lifted up his hands to try again but Harry's eyes told him to stay away.

Far away

He told him with his eyes just as he done before when he asked Snape to help him. The boy, panic stricken, and very much afraid, pressed his back further into the wall imagining that he could just melt away into its hard surface. Behind the Dog-Man who looked as if he had just been torn into shreds, stood the Man-in-Black who was intently watching the scene with a hint of glee in his expression. The White-Bearded-Man was coming up behind Harry's savior; however his face was frowning in disappointment. The Shaggy-Man and the Little-Lady stood to the side of them with glass vials in both of their hands.

Harry watched every movement that the strangers made, especially the White-Bearded-Man who was dressed down in lavish purple robes, a matching purple pointed hat on top of his head, and half moon specs tracing the wrinkles around his blue eyes. The old man cleared his throat sensing that the boy was distressed.

“Sirius, young Harry here has had a rough night. For the child's welfare I highly suggest that for now he--”

The Dog-Man swiveled his head to the side. His eyes looked dead and his voice was no longer violent as it was before when he was screaming at the White-Bearded-Man and at Snape.

“I'm done taking your suggestions, Dumbledore,” said the Dog-Man in a voice that was dull and dead like. “I just don't give a damn what you or anyone else thinks.”

Harry, still pressed up against the wall, wrinkled up his forehead clearly overwhelmed by what was going on around him. The Shaggy-Man was rounding on the Dog-Man at a lightning fast speed. To Harry's surprise and to the rest of the strangers’ in the room astonishments, the Shaggy-Man grabbed firmly onto his friend's shoulder and had spun him around with a strength that seemed to come out of nowhere even despite his tattered weak appearance.

“Padfoot! Enough is enough. Stop being such a sodding git and just listen for once, you stubborn fool. Just listen will you? ”

The Dog-Man looked at his friend in shock as his face paled multiple shades whiter than it already was. Then suddenly he flushed and a sheepish smile played across his face. The man's eyes were smiling at his friend as he patted him sternly on the back. Remus flinched from the patting and rubbed his sore shoulder.

"Well why didn't you just say so, Mooney,” teased Sirius with a silly grin. Even though Harry had no idea who these two men were he could see that they were best mates. From the looks of it, the two of them looked like they have been friends forever. The boy wondered why they called each other different names. Harry previously thought they were; Sirius Black, Remus Lupin. Now they were Padfoot and Mooney! The boy wondered for a moment if he himself was more than just "Harry" or "Potter." Did he have such nicknames like they did? The Shaggy-Man called Mooney or rather Remus, narrowed his eyebrows and let out a deep sigh while cocking his head in an a more enjoyable way and letting out a large chuckle.

"Well if you weren't being such a prat then maybe I would have,” he said with sarcasm. Sirius, suddenly became serious again. His voice was low and full of gloom and hopelessness. The change in character was a shock to the unknowing child.

“Remus,” said the Dog-Man in a voice barely audible for the boy to hear, “He isn't our Harry.”

There was sadness. Why was he so sad? Why couldn't he understand anything? Were these two men blaming him for not being their Harry because he wanted to hide in the darkness instead? Is this why the Dog-Man tried to attack him? Was it because the boy wasn't answering the banging doors in his mind? Was this why he kept staring at Harry distastefully when he was tugging on Snape's robes? Questions, he had questions but the answers were still locked away inside his mind just waiting to be found.

The boy's throat became dry as bone as he opened his mouth to try saying something, anything that would matter to them. He wanted to say a bunch of things but he didn't know how to, those things were bunching together much too quickly for the boy to hold onto. They faded away as quickly as they came and penetrated his mind in flashes of pictures--memories one might call them. It was as if certain thoughts behind those closed doors in his head were being compressed so much that they couldn't form into words or pictures that were dying to be seen and heard. They were like marbles being poured into a jar without a bottom. They would go into the jar just as they normally would but they would fall out the bottom of it. It was frustrating enough that Harry's mind was screaming to express such alien thoughts. “I am yours!” it would scream. “I'm still here!” it shouted; yet such thoughts that couldn't form into words could only be articulated into moans.

There were moans, plenty of moans and groaning and whimpering coming out of the child's throat. There were voices, plenty of voices thundering in his brain, crawling through the cracks of the door and wrapping deadly fingers around such a fragile neck. There was choking, a lot of it. The air was thinning it couldn't make it. The air couldn't get into the strong lungs that live to breathe what their Harry used to breathe. The pounding in his head was indescribable, he needed to say the things that mattered, words that mattered, and feelings that mattered to all of them the ones who mattered or used to.

Then there was a word...it was a simple word, it was petty, but it was completely necessary for one who needed it to matter the most

“Help”

...

Authors Note: Ok so I figured I would spice things up with Sirius's and Remy's pov. No it's not always going to be like this because I am planning to stick to just Harry's and Sev's for the up coming chapters.

Harry's brain is pretty much fried lasagna at the moment. Yeahh...thats not very good. And yes again, we get to see what Dumbles and Sev are going to do with him with Dolores basically controlling life. hmmm I would like to hear some ideas from you guys even though I have a few of my own...R&R!!