The 31st of July emerged warmly over the hills of Scotland with the sunrise peering in through a gap, a wash of warm light flooding the dying grass. The birds chirped cheerfully outside, as though making their presence known for the day. The village square was filled with the first people going to the early morning farmer’s market, talking across the road about tv shows and latest news.

On the edge of the village, a small cottage stood alone in the centre of a field, its dark red door propped open by a stone. It was unseen to anyone that passed, who would see only an empty field and a strong desire to go elsewhere. A washing line of clothes swayed in the breeze while a few fairies fluttered through the leaves of a tree and a few birds perched on the roof’s edge. Inside the house, Minerva McGonagall was starting out her day, going down to the kitchen to start cooking breakfast. Upstairs, still fast asleep was a young boy with messy black hair, bright green eyes and tawny brown skin, a pale white scar like a Lichtenberg figure on his forehead and down his temple.

Hari groaned and stretched his arms above his head, blinking at the light shining directly in his eyes. Yawning, he sat up and looked around his room. It took him a moment before he realised the date and then he threw his blankets off his lap, put his glasses on and crept out of his room.

As he opened the door, he could smell the aroma of someone cooking and heard the familiar buzz of the radio downstairs.

He padded down the wooden steps and wandered into the kitchen to find Minerva, still dressed in her pyjamas, her greying hair hanging loose in waves down her back as she stood over the stove top, humming along with an Effie Summersby song on the radio. He could see a small stack of pancakes on a slightly chipped plate beside the stove, along with a couple of fried eggs sizzling on the pan. The clock on the wall chimed as the clock moved to nine o’clock.

“Morning,” said Hari, stepping into the warm kitchen. Minerva stopped humming and turned to glance at him over her shoulder.

“Oh, Hari, good morning!” she said, tapping the stove with her wand and coming around the side of the table to give Hari a hug, squeezing him tightly. “Happy birthday, dear,” she said in his ear before pulling away again.

“Thank you,” said Hari. “I see you’ve already got breakfast started. It smells delicious.”

Minerva batted her hand indifferently before going back to continue cooking. “Your presents from your friends arrived with Hedwig and Errol a little while ago,” she said over the sizzling of the eggs on the pan. “The Weasley’s poor bird is out cold again. I told Molly not to send him on long distance journeys so much or else he’ll end up dropping out of the sky with some mail soon. Especially coming all the way here from Ottery St. Catchpole!” She shook her head to herself, unamused. Hari smirked and moved into the living room to see his birthday gifts.

Hari spotted Hedwig on her window perch and went over to run his fingers through her soft white feathers. She nipped his fingers affectionately and he smiled, glancing down at the poor grey owl, keeled over on the couch. Minerva had set out his various packages on the coffee table, a generous pile of colourful wrapping paper and string.

After eating breakfast at the kitchen table as Hari told Minerva about his History of Magic essay he just finished about witch burnings and Minerva talked about a run in with a very angry Scotsman at the local Co-op where she got the eggs, they made their way back to the living room to open the presents.

Ron had included a birthday card with a drawing of a golden snitch that flew around the paper, a clipping from The Daily Prophet and a letter, along with a Pocket Sneakoscope for his gift. The card detailed Ron’s visit to Egypt to see his brother Bill after Mr. Weasley won the Daily Prophet Galleon Draw. The newspaper clipping was a small article about the winning, along with a moving photograph of the whole Weasley family waving at the camera, including Ron’s pet rat Scabbers.

Minerva glanced at the article over Hari’s shoulder as he read it. “That’s so wonderful for them. I wonder how Bill is enjoying life in Egypt,” she commented, smiling to herself. Bill was the oldest Weasley sibling, a daring and friendly man that used to occasionally babysit Hari in the Gryffindor common room when none of the teachers were able to. He looked very different from the last time Hari had seen him, his ginger hair much longer now and his handsome features more defined with adulthood.

Hari also got a Broomstick Servicing Kit from Hermione, whose letter told him she was in Paris for the summer holidays and a leather-bound book about famous Quidditch Seekers from Draco, who was staying in Brighton with his Aunt Andromeda’s family for a few weeks. Remus sent Hari the latest Weird Sisters album, along with a photo of James and Lily at their wedding that he apparently found while looking for something else in a box in the cupboard. Neville Longbottom, a boy in Hari’s year whose birthday was the day before his, sent him a shiny green birthday card and a box of Every Flavour Beans and Kingsley had sent a card as well.

Finally, the last birthday package was from Hagrid. He tore off the paper wrapping as Minerva inspected the birthday card idly and saw something green and leather. Before he could open it properly, however, Hari yelped as whatever was inside the paper quivered violently and seemed to try to snap at Hari’s fingers. Hari froze, eyes wide. Hagrid may have had rather questionable taste in animals, having bought a dragon egg in a bet and a giant acromantula when he was even younger than Hari, but he wouldn’t buy Hari something dangerous, surely.

Hari shared a curious look with Minerva and poked the parcel with his finger. The gift snapped again. Holding his breath, Hari held down the object with one hand and then tore away the last of the wrapping paper to reveal—

A book.

Its cover was emblazoned with shiny emerald leather with the words: The Monster Book of Monsters on the front. Hari was just able to read the title before the book suddenly flipped itself open, snarling and scuttling along the table like it was alive. It crashed to the floor with a thud and began tearing violently at the wrapping paper discarded on the floor, as if it had teeth.

“Shit,” Hari blurted as the book scuttled around the living room. Minerva and Hari each took one side, trying to corner it as the books sped around the room making strange snuffling noises.

“Language, Potter,” snapped Minerva, pulling out her wand. As the book tore through more wrapping paper and started towards Hari’s socked feet, she pointed her wand at the book and said, “Immobulus!” At once, the book was immobilized, frozen on its way towards Hari. Minerva sighed mirthlessly and lifted the book off the floor, glaring down at it. “I really wonder about Hagrid sometimes,” she muttered to herself.

Hari picked up Hagrid’s letter from the table and read it over. “Hagrid got me a biting book for my birthday because he thought it would be useful for my studies?” said Hari once he read it over, handing the letter over to Minerva.

Minerva furrowed her brows as she read it. “One moment, Hari,” she said, holding up a finger. She cleared her throat and lifted her wand again and said, “Accio Hari’s book list!” They waited for a few seconds in silence before Hari heard a rustling of paper flying through the air. Then, a piece of parchment whizzed into the room and into Minerva’s hand. Her eyes scanned the paper. “Ah, your book list mentions The Monster Book of Monsters here,” she said, tutting.

Hari went upstairs to grab an old belt he had lying around in his wardrobe and hurried downstairs to fasten it tightly around the book, binding it shut so that it could no longer scuttle around or try to snap at his fingers once the Immobilising charm wore off.

“Well, Happy Birthday, Hari,” said Minerva, Vanishing the leftover shredded wrapping paper.

With all the drama with Riddle’s diary this last school year, Hari hoped that this was the last violent book he came across in his life.

¤¤¤

Hari was perched on a tree branch, listening intently to the news on the radio, pretending to be engrossed in his book about dragons from Asia. Inside the house, Hari could hear Minerva pottering about inside the kitchen, glasses clinking together lightly. The news appeared to be discussing a breakout from Azkaban and Hari swore he recognised the name from somewhere.

“...Sirius Black, notorious murderer of 13 with only one curse, has escaped from Azkaban, says a Ministry spokeswizard this morning,” said the voice on the radio. Hari heard something shatter inside and hopped carefully out of the tree, still listening to the radio as he headed in to investigate. “Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, told the public that the Ministry is doing everything in their power to recapture Black. The news of which is particularly alarming to the public as no one before him has ever been successful in escaping from Azkaban Prison.”

Hari kicked off his shoes on the front step and wandered inside. Minerva was standing frozen in shock in the centre of the kitchen, clutching a checkered rag and staring out the open window. On the counter, Hari saw a floral tea cup, lying in pieces.

He cleared his throat. “Minnie? Are you okay?” he asked, stepping inside the kitchen. Minerva startled, turning to him with wide eyes.

“Oh, yes! I just—I just dropped this cup by accident,” she said absently, picking up her wand and pointing it at the tea cup, which mended instantly. She sounded strained and frayed at the edges as she spoke and Hari knew she was lying. Her hand was shaking as she fixed the cup.

Hari gestured to the radio, which was now playing a hit by Celestina Warbeck. “That man they just mentioned. Why do I recognise the name Sirius Black?”

Minerva was silent for a while, staring at the cloth in her hands. Then, she put it on the counter and sat down slowly at the table. When she looked up, her eyes were glassy. Hari wished he could remember who Sirius Black was so that he would know why she was so upset by the mention of him.

“Minnie?” Hari asked, sitting down in the chair across from her.

There was a knock on the door and they both jumped, turning towards the front door, still propped open to let the air in. Severus Snape’s shoulder length black hair and pointy nose appeared in the crack of the doorway.

“Hello? Minerva?” said Severus’ voice from the doorway. Minerva glanced at Hari and got up from her seat, walking towards the door. Hari saw her wiping her eyes as she opened the door to let Severus step inside. He looked at Hari, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, watching. “Hari,” he said, nodding.

“Hello,” replied Hari politely, nodding back.

“Hari, Severus and I will be in the living room,” Minerva said over her shoulder, ushering the black robed man inside. Hari gave her a thumbs up and put on his shoes again, heading out the front door once again.

Careful not to make a noise, Hari clambered into his tree again, listening closely to the conversation between the two adults.

“I presume you’ve heard the news about Black?” said Severus as Minerva poured him a glass of wine.

“Well, of course,” she replied stiffly, “I cannot imagine how Remus will be feeling.”

“Yes… I imagine he will be very upset.”

Minerva sighed. “Severus, I already told you in that letter. You need to trust Remus,” she snapped. “Just because he was friends with your school rivals does not mean he is a villain!”

They said something else out of Hari’s earshot and he clung to the trunk of the tree tightly, leaning over, straining to hear. Then, just beside him, a voice startled him and he felt himself falling head first out of the tree. He landed with a grunt in a heap on the grass.

“You really are nosy, aren’t you?”

Hari looked up from the ground at the smirking face of Remus Lupin, towering over him in a long, patched cape and his sleeves rolled to his elbows to reveal long scars along the ashy skin. Chuckling, Remus bent down to help Hari to his feet.

Up close, Hari could see his hunched appearance, his green eyes bloodshot and exhausted. Hari looked up at the tall man and felt his heart clench.

For the entire time Hari had known him, for whatever reason, Remus was always getting ill. He never wanted to ask why, sensing it was a touchy subject for him, but even as a small child he could recognize the signs of someone who was almost always unwell. His entire body was littered with scars, including a few nasty ones etched into the otherwise young face, aging him significantly along with the greying sandy brown hair. Hari hoped he would one day know the cause of Remus’ scars and ill health, but figured by the defeated look on the older man’s face, today was not the day.

Without thinking, Hari hugged Remus tightly around the middle. “What are you doing here? Are you okay?” Hari asked into the fabric of Remus’ white button down shirt.

He pulled away from Hari, smiling sadly. “I’ve been better,” he said honestly, patting Hari on the shoulder. “Is Minerva home?”

“Yeah. She’s inside with Severus,” he replied, pointing at the open window. “He comes over every few weeks in the summer to gossip about their lives and drink red wine.”

Remus chuckled, shaking his head. “Does he really?”

“Yup,” said Hari, grinning. He peered at the open window again and then up at Remus. “I think they were talking about you…”

Remus hummed, looking at the window as well. “Hardly surprising,” he said, draping an arm around Hari’s shoulders and guiding him towards the house. “We shall just have to join them, won’t we?” Hari smiled, reaching out to open the door. “You still haven’t grown much, I see,” Remus added as they stepped into the hall and took off their shoes.

Hari pouted childishly. “You’re mean,” he said. “I’ll tell Minnie you’re bullying me.”

“I hear you, Prongslet.”

Hari rolled his eyes, ducking out of his head pat and knocked on the door to the living room before stepping inside. Minerva was sitting in her usual arm chair with a half full glass of wine while Severus was pacing the floor, his own drink forgotten on the coffee table. They both froze as Hari entered leading Remus behind him, the very topic of their conversation only seconds ago.

“Look who I just found in the garden,” said Hari.

Remus glanced at Hari and then at Minerva, meticulously avoiding Severus’ stare. “Technically, I found him. He fell out of a tree when I arrived,” said Remus. Hari saw Severus’ lips curl slightly, as close to amusement as was possible.

“Listening in on our conversation again, I assume?” asked Minerva, raising a critical eyebrow in Hari’s direction. His cheeks burned and he quickly turned to inspect the paint colour of the living room. “Have a seat, Remus. Would you like a glass of wine?” Minerva was out of her seat, holding up a bottle of wine and conjuring a glass out of thin air.

Remus glanced warily at Severus but nodded, sitting down on the couch and taking the glass from her. She poured him a generous amount of red wine and sat down again. “Thank you, Minerva,” he said, taking a tiny sip and putting it on the coffee table.

“Do I have to leave?” asked Hari, still standing off to the side.

“He will probably listen in anyway,” remarked Remus, sitting back against the couch. Hari scowled again and he winked. “And he’s old enough to know more, now. Better he hears from us instead of rumours.”

Minerva gestured vaguely for Hari to sit down and he quickly hurried to sit down beside Remus on the couch, as though she may change her mind if he was too slow. Severus eyed his movement, leaning against the fireplace.

“Are you quite sure Hari is old enough to be hearing about Sirius Black?” Severus stated, eyes on Remus now, challenging him. Remus shifted and took a sip of his wine, never breaking eye contact. “I am to assume that is what you are here about, Remus?”

Remus nodded stiffly, taking another sip and returning the glass. He turned to Minerva. “I Apparated as soon as I heard the news,” he explained. His eyes darted to Severus for a moment. “I admit I was expecting you to be alone, but…”

“I can imagine it was distressing news for you, Remus,” said Minerva knowingly, plainly ignoring the shared looks between Severus and Remus.

Hari looked back and forth between each of the adults, hoping to catch a glimmer of what they were actually talking about. He recognized Sirius Black, but why were all three of them looking so on edge about the whole thing? He had seen them all in stressful situations, had even almost died in Minerva’s arms only a few weeks prior, but he couldn’t remember seeing them look so uptight. As if reading Hari’s thoughts, as he often seemed to, Severus spoke exactly what he was thinking.

“I believe Hari is itching to know exactly what we’re talking about.”

Hari glared at Severus’ accusing tone, even though he was correct. Caught out, Harri said, “I want to know why all three of you look so on edge about this Sirius Black.”

“Sirius Black is a mass murderer that is the only wizard to ever escape from Azkaban Prison, which is supposed to be impossible,” said Severus, sneering and grabbing his glass of wine rather fiercely. Hari blinked. “You might think that being able to slip out of the Dark Lord’s grip a few times has made you invincible but—”

“Severus!” exclaimed Minerva sharply. Severus shut his mouth, frowning as he finished his wine.

“Hari,” interrupted Remus, “you know how I was good friends with your father at school?” Hari nodded, having seen photos and heard stories. “Well, I wasn’t his only friend in school. We were also good friends with Peter Pettigrew and…” He glanced at Severus and Minerva, silently asking their permission. “And Sirius Black. He’s the dark haired boy in some of the older photos of us.”

“What about Peter Pettigrew? Where’s he?”

“He was… one of the 13 that he killed 12 years ago.”

Hari’s eyes widened. “So, you used to be friends with Sirius Black and he killed one of your friends and 12 others?” Hari clarified, trying to process the information that his father had befriended a killer.

“Yes.”

Hari didn’t say anything. He was fiddling with a loose thread in his blue jeans. What was one supposed to say when finding out that their family members had been friends with a killer? Someone that betrayed one of their friends? He could hardly believe it. Now that he thought about it, he could distinctly remember the photographs of his father with that dark haired boy and his toothy grin. Hari always thought he looked like a friendly and cheerful guy from what the photos showed, but knowing he was a mass murderer…

“How did he break out? I didn’t hear if the radio said…” Hari asked instead.

“Nobody knows. As I already said, it has never been done before, so no one knows what he did to manage to escape,” replied Severus. “I assume advanced Dark magic was involved.”

Nobody spoke for a while. Hari wasn’t the only one that was disturbed by this revelation. Minerva was drinking the rest of her wine with intense focus while Remus stared out the window, tapping his foot nervously on the carpet. The air was palpable with the weight of the recent news, something none of them wanted to voice aloud. Severus was pacing again, his black cape swishing as he walked.

Eventually, Minerva was the first to break the tense silence by standing up from her seat and saying, “Why don’t we all get some food in the kitchen and I’ll make us some tea or more drinks. I bought more of those chocolate biscuits you liked last time, Remus.” She moved towards the door and the rest followed her shortly.

“That sounds excellent, Minerva. Thank you,” said Remus as they walked down the corridor, his hand on Hari’s shoulder again. “Nothing like chocolate to cheer you up.”

Minerva set out bowls of various types of crisps and a packet of Muggle biscuits out on the table as everyone sat down around it. Hari grabbed a couple of the biscuits and started munching away as Minerva prepared them each a cup of tea, lazily waving her wand and handing out more glasses of wine to the adults.

“Remus…” said Severus, taking the glass of wine from Minerva. “I heard about Dumbledore offering you the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

Hari perked up, spraying crumbs across the table. This was news to him. “Wait, you’re the new Defence teacher?” blurted Hari, blinking up Remus in shock.

“I am indeed,” said Remus, nodding.

“That’s brilliant! I’ll have you teaching me now!” said Hari brightly. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you, Harry. I look forward to teaching you.”

“That means you won’t be able to make fun of my height anymore, you know,” Hari added, grinning as he shoved the rest of his biscuit in his mouth. Remus rolled his eyes, dipping his own biscuit in his tea. “You’ll do great, I just know it.”

Severus added, “Yes, I am sure you will make a valuable teacher at Hogwarts…”

Minerva shot a challenging look at Severus. “And you will both be amicable with each other, am I clear?” Minerva glared at both of the men. Hari gaped. He never got to see her telling adults off instead of himself or other students. “No need to bring your childhood rivalries between you and the pupils’ education.”

“Of course, not,” replied Severus, still looking at Remus.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” said Remus.