Welcome to my new story!

This is another light-hearted AU-fic. I actually started it almost a year ago, but never got around to posting it. It's about halfway done, so I thought there wouldn't be any harm in posting it along with my other story.

This isn't in the same universe as The Letter, but similar in tone. It's pretty much canon up to right after PoA, with the exception that Voldemort never created any horcruxes, and was killed for good that Halloween night. The events of PS and CoS still took place, with Quirrel working on its own and the diary just being a "normal" possessed object left by Tom Riddle. (or whatever we thought it was before DH came out)

This story will primarily be a RemusXTonks romance, but there's plenty of Harry and Sirius in it as well. I just had this picture of Remus and Sirius living at Hogwarts together as teacher and dog, and felt like it would funny to write about it.

I hope you enjoy it :)

An unexpected visitor

A beam of sun light crept through the half drawn curtains in number four Privet Drive, tickling the sleeping teenager, and his eyes started to flicker. Harry Potter blinked slowly, and for a moment he wondered where his four poster bed had gone. Then he remembered that he wasn't in school, that it was summer and he had yet almost two months until he could return to Hogwarts.

With a groan he shut his eyes again, debating whether it would be possible to sleep through the entire months of July and August. Coming to the conclusion that it was not, and that judging by the noises from the kitchen going back to sleep now was futile anyway, he sat up, reaching for his glasses. Once they were firmly on his nose he grabbed the bottle of ink from his nightstand, still sitting in bed, and opened it. He dunked a quill in it and leaned over to draw another red cross on the calendar hung on his wall. Four days, he thought glumly, staring at the pitiful collection of red crosses. He didn't even bother counting the days he still had left. Bloody holidays.

In all fairness, he thought as he made to grab a pair of baggy jeans off the floor, he shouldn't really complain. Compared with other summers he had lived through, this one was actually quite pleasant. For starters, he had all his school supplies with him, meaning he could actually do the homework they had been set over the summer (not that Harry had bothered with that so far, he wasn't quite that bored yet) and amuse himself with some of the more interesting things he had brought with him from the wizarding world. The Dursleys were far too afraid of his murdering godfather to interact with him, and when it came to them, being ignored was really the best you could hope for.

But nice as it was not being locked up in a cupboard and treated with daily insults, it still didn't make for a very interesting summer. There were only so many times you could reread Flying with the Cannons, and playing Exploding Snap by himself just wasn't very interesting. He had considered enlisting Hedwig, but she might not be too happy about singed feathers, and antagonizing his only friend in the Muggle world seemed like a bad idea. Not to mention that playing card games with your pet sounded closer to madness than he was comfortable with.

His gaze drifted over to the empty cage on his desk. The owl had been gone for two days now, delivering his pleas for food, and he hoped the long absence meant she would not return empty-handed. Or rather empty-clawed. Merlin, he really needed to see more people.

Upon arriving in the kitchen, he immediately changed his mind. If people meant Dursleys, becoming a hermit seemed very appealing. Dudley, still in denial about the fact he was well on track to developing his own field of gravity, was throwing yet another tantrum, and his screams and flying fists evoked the distinct impression of a pig being slaughtered in a not-too animal friendly manner.

Helped by quick Seeker reflexes and years of experience Harry expertly ducked a vicious blow aimed at the coffee pot and made his way over to his chair, pouring himself a cup of tea - without milk, as that had been banned from breakfast along with pretty much everything else that contained even the idea of fat - and ignored the Dursleys just as much as they ignored him.

As he absentmindedly lifted his feet to avoid getting splashed with hot coffee as Dudley's assaults finally found their aim and the pot went crashing to the floor, and wondered if he should just give up on the prospect of breakfast and return to his room. Maybe Hedwig had returned, and waiting for him would be heaps upon heaps of delicious goods made by Molly Weasley – hell, in his current state of hunger he'd even settle for one of Hagrid's rock cakes.

But he knew it would be unlikely given he had only been downstairs for ten minutes, and having his trousers drenched in coffee finally drew Uncle Vernon from behind his newspaper, yelling at his son to sit calmly or face his pocket money cut from now until his eighteenth birthday. The prospect of such horrors finally quieted Dudley's wailing, and he sat down, face still red and with a look so murderous it would make first years cry.

Harry had fight hard to keep a grin off his face, though his amusement fell somewhat when he was handed three grapes and a strawberry by aunt Petunia. That's it., he thought as he tentatively put one grape into his mouth, chewing meticulously because he had heard somewhere that would make it last longer.

Forget Voldemort or dementors. I'm actually going to die of starvation.

While he was still cringing at the thought of Draco Malfoy's glee at his undignified demise, the doorbell rang. Uncle Vernon rose to his feet to answer it, and Harry paid no notion until he heard his uncle's voice raise . "Harry Potter? Why would you want to talk to him?"

Harry almost choked on his last grape in his haste to get to the door, and didn't even notice Dudley stealing his strawberry.

The man standing in the doorframe was so slim Harry could barely see him behind the enormous form of Vernon Dursley, but he was a good part taller, and his smiling face beamed at Harry over the muggle's shoulder.

Harry stared. "Pro-Professor Lupin?"

The wizard's smile grew broader. "Good morning, Harry."

Vernon turned around, his eyes dangerously narrow. "You know this person?" From the way he said it, it was very clear that he thought Lupin was some sort of homeless person. But Harry barely noticed it, for he was too busy staring at the large black dog that stood next to the former professor, panting happily and giving a short bark as he saw Harry.

"Si-" he broke off, catching himself in time and remembered that Uncle Vernon was still waiting for his answer, the enormous moustache trembling dangerously. "Err…yes, he's…he's a teacher at my school," Harry answered quickly. It wasn't strictly speaking true, but adding until he was fired for being a werewolf would probably be ill-advised.

"A...teacher?", Uncle Vernon repeated slowly, and the disgust was joined by fear as he realized the homeless beggar on his doorstep was actually a wizard.

Obviously sensing that he should step in before things got out of hand, Lupin nodded. "Yes. I was hoping to talk to Harry about some course work for the next year," he said, the polite smile still on his lips.

Uncle Vernon's face turned an alarming shade of red and Harry was sure he would slam the door in Lupin's face before inviting him in, but the wizard quickly added. "Maybe we could go for a walk, Harry. I wouldn't want to intrude on your family. Only if that is alright with you of course, Mr Dursley. I assure you Harry will be safe with me, and I'll bring him back before lunchtime."

The look on Vernon's face made it clear that he couldn't care less about whether Harry was safe or not, but he still hesitated, obviously wary of the shabby man in front of him. In the end the urge to shout was overruled by the fear of causing a scene in front of the neighbours, and so he just made a non-committal grunt and shoved Harry towards the door, slamming it as soon as he was across the threshold.

Harry said nothing, still far too flabbergasted by the sudden appearance of his former teacher and his godfather. Lupin merely smiled at him. "I see Dursley is still as delightful as ever," he observed, setting off towards the street. Sirius barked, and before Harry knew it the dog had risen to his hindlegs, front paws on Harry's shoulder and grinned broadly. He laughed, returning the embrace clumsily.

"Sirius", Lupin hissed from a few steps down, "Get down and start behaving like a dog." Sirius' lolled his tongue at the werewolf and rolled his eyes in a very un-dog-like fashion, but he got back on all fours nevertheless, running a small circle around Harry and then setting off to inspect Aunt Petunia's diligently kept flowerbed. Harry couldn't help but grin, despite his confusion.

"What are you doing here?" he asked finally. Lupin, who was now dragging Sirius away from a shrubbery as the dog had started to raise a hind leg, looked around for a moment. "Long story," he answered finally, having succeeded in getting the struggling dog on the road, "and I'd rather not talk about it in the open. Would you care for some breakfast?"

Harry, who felt the three lonely grapes rolling about in his empty stomach, nodded. "But where-"

"We've got an old friend who lives here.", Lupin said, setting off in a brisk pace that left Harry struggling to keep up. "She agreed to lend us our kitchen so that Sirius can join the discussion. All of this was his idea, you know."

Harry said nothing, mind reeling. Lupin looked unchanged from when he had last seen him, robes still shabby and patched, hair still grey, but his expression was not full of of regret, but rather one of anxiousness, and…hope?

Sirius looked better than he had that night, his fur no longer tangled and dirty, but shining in the morning sun. The way in which he bounced across the pavement, tail wagging madly and barking ever so often made him look almost like an overexited puppy, despite his enormous size.

It took Harry a while to realize where they were going. "Mrs Figg?" he came to an abrupt halt as he recognized the driveway Lupin was walking up to, but the former teacher had already rang the doorbell. He turned around. "Yes, she did say you used to visit her. Like I said, she's an old friend; we can trust her. She knows about Sirius."

Before Harry could comprehend the words or even ask any further, the door opened an in front of him stood Mrs Figg, grey-haired and complete with hairnet and tartan carpet slippers. "Remus! I hope it went well?"

Lupin nodded. "Reasonably. Though for a moment I thought he was going to call the police." Mrs Figg frowned. "Yes, they really are dreadful. Well, get in then, quickly. Hello Harry, it's wonderful to see you!"

Harry simply stared, and it took a nudge from the big black dog to get him to move. "But- you…you're a witch?" he finally managed as he stood in the entry hall, door closing behind him.

"A squib," the old woman corrected him. "Dumbledore asked me to stay here so I could keep an eye on you. I'm sorry I never told you, Dumlbedore's orders."

"Stupid orders," a new voice behind Harry said. "Did you know that they're now actively starving him?"

Harry spun round, and found himself face to face with a tall, black-haired man. "Sirius!"

His godfather grinned, face still dreadfully pale but a lot healthier-looking than two weeks ago. "Hey, Harry. Ready to be saved from those muggles?"

"Saved?"

"Let's discuss that sitting down, shall we?" Lupin interrupted, and Mrs Figg nodded hastily. "Come on through, breakfast is on the table. Just keep an eye out for Mr Tibbles, he likes to steal bacon."

As Harry followed Lupin and Sirius into the kitchen he was greeted by the mouth-watering smell of bacon, fried eggs and toast, and decided to just accept whatever was happening for now and simply enjoy the unexpected feast.

Sirius seemed to share his enthusiasm. "Sausages," he sighed, chewing with a contented look on his face. "I have missed you." He swallowed, and leaned over to Harry. "Moony refuses to cook them," he whispered conspiratorially.

Lupin merely raised an eyebrow, and murmured something that sounded like "You're a grown man, cook your own breakfast."

Harry blinked, curiosity finally winning over hunger. "So…so you live with Professor Lupin now?"

Sirius nodded. "I was going to leave the country, but it seemed unnecessary. Those ministry morons didn't manage to catch me breaking into Hogwarts when it was swarming with dementors, so I figured I was pretty safe here. And I did promise you a home, I believe."

Harrys jaw dropped, and for a moment he sat motionless. When a half chewed tomato threatened to fall onto his plate he hastily closed it, barely swallowing before asking: "A home? You mean…you mean away from the Dursleys?"

Sirius snorted. "Well I'm certainly not gonna move in with them, so…"

"But...but you're…" on the run.

Lupin cleared his throat. "Sirius is not in a position to officially offer you a home, no.", he said slowly. "Which is why I am here. As he mentioned, he is currently living in my house – or my parents' house, really; I never lived there after they died – which means officially you would be living with me."

Harry looked at him, completely perplexed. This morning he had been debating whether it was worth reading Quidditch teams of Britain and Ireland a sixth time, and now suddenly he was in the middle of a discussion about leaving Privet Drive to live with a werewolf and an escaped convict.

"You mean, you'd…adopt me?"

Sirius gave of a bark of laughter that sounded quite dog-like, and Lupin forced a small smile as well. "No, Harry. I'm afraid with the recent…publication of my condition, the ministry would never allow that. Not that I'd want that; you already have Sirius. Legally, you'd still be living with your aunt and uncle, and Dumbledore asked for you to return there for at least a week every summer. But if you want, and if we get your aunt and uncle's permission, you can spend the rest of your holidays with us."

For a moment, Harry was silent. Then, when the reality of what Lupin had just said finally sunk in, a broad grin crept over his face. "That's…awesome!"

Sirius grinned, too. "Told you he'd say yes," he smirked at Lupin, who merely smiled.

"Leaves the question what the Dursleys will say."

The bubble of happiness that had been building in Harry's stomach deflated somewhat at that, and he swallowed glumly. The Dursleys' mission in life was to make his own life as miserable as possible. Allowing him to stay with his godfather and favourite teacher certainly wasn't part of that plan.

"Oh." He frowned. "Well…they are pretty scared Sirius will come and kill them in their sleep if they don't treat me nicely…do you think I could tell them you're a werewolf? That should scare them enough. Or maybe they'll hope you eat me."

Lupin stared at him with a horrified look on his face, but Sirius erupted into laughter. "You told them about me? That's brilliant! Definitely James' son."

Lupin frowned. "Actually, I think that's more Lily," he said absentmindedly, obviously still a bit shocked. "She could be surprisingly malicious." He shook his head. "As effective at that might be, maybe telling them about my condition is not the best idea, Harry. I'll try and talk to your uncle when we go back."

"But…but what if he says no? Can I still come? Can I at least visit?" Harry was suddenly afraid. He had lived through the disappointment of having a home promised and then snatched away once, he didn't think he could bear it again.

Sirius' expression became grim. "If he says no I'll shit on his front porch until he changes his mind."

"Very helpful, thank you Sirius." Lupin rose. "Thanks a lot for the breakfast, Mrs Figg. I'm sorry for barging in here so suddenly, but I didn't want to risk apparition with Harry and Sirius."

The old lady smiled. "Not at all, Remus. It's good to see you coping so well, despite all that horrible stuff in the Prophet. Drop by for tea some time, will you? And owl me if there's news." Sirius rose as well. "Thanks for the sausages. And, you know. Not ratting me out to the Aurors. Come on Harry, I have a shrubbery to piss on."

Harry couldn't help but laugh as he hastily said goodbye to the old squib and followed Lupin and the black dog out onto the street. It was odd seeing Sirius like this, joking and careless when just two weeks ago he had been nothing more than a skeletal shell. But it warmed his heart knowing he was well and fed and not living off rats in some cave.

"What will you tell them?" Harry wondered as he and Lupin walked back towards Privet Drive.

"The truth. Or most of it, anyway. That I was a friend of your parents and offered you to spend the holidays at my place."

Harry frowned, his hopes rapidly falling. "I…I don't think that's a good idea. They hate me, they won't want to see me happy. Can't you tell them I've got to attend summer lessons or something?"

Lupin threw him an odd look. "I don't think they hate you. And even if they do-", he hastily added, ignoring Harry's doubtful snort, "Wouldn't that make them want to get rid of you as soon as possible?"

The werewolf had a point – the Dursleys had asked him before to spend the summer holidays at school. But when it came to Vernon Dursley, Harry was rather certain that hate outweighed the desire to see him gone.

"Maybe.", he said uncertainly, as they reached number four. "Behave yourself," Lupin warned the dog, who seemed ready to set off towards the flowerbeds again and now shot him an reproachful look. Lupin ignored him, and rang the doorbell.

The door opened almost immediately, and Harry was certain that Aunt Petunia had kept watch for them from behind her kitchen curtains. "Get in, boy," Uncle Vernon spat, not sparing Lupin a look. Apparently he had come to the conclusion that someone who dressed this shabbily wasn't worth politeness, wizard or not.

But the werewolf merely smiled, and stepped forward. "Actually, I was wondering if you could spare a minute. I have a proposal concerning Harry."

Vernon stared at him, red creeping back into his face, and for a moment Harry thought he'd tell Lupin that no, he could not spare a minute. But finally he budged, and took a reluctant step backwards to let Lupin in. Sirius shot past him, and judging by the shriek from the living room, found Petunia. Lupin muttered some expletives and hastily followed. "Padfoot! Stay!"

For a moment Harry met his uncle's gaze, and swallowed. Yes. Hate was definitely the overriding feeling right now.

So what do you think?

I'll update soon, but I'd be happy about some comments :)