Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, Savior of the Wizarding World, was locked inside a tiny room. His window was nailed shut and he was laying on a threadbare cot. He was soaked with sweat. His stomach growled loudly.

Remus Lupin, werewolf, classified as a Dark creature by the Ministry of Magic, member of the Order of the Phoenix, was crouching outside the Boy-Who-Lived's house, keeping an eye on him. Harry had come outside for five hours the day before, pulling up weeds in the garden. At one point, Harry had taken off his shirt to cool off in the sweltering weather, and Remus could count his ribs from twenty feet away. Remus had continuously brought his complaints to Dumbledore, but he had dismissed them.

Harry's fine, he had said, waving one hand, he's probably being punished for something.

Remus disagreed. He knew there was something going on in that house. If his suspicions were correct, and they usually were, the Dursleys were abusing Harry. However, he was powerless to stop it.

Sirius would have known what to do. The fun-loving ex-Marauder always had a few tricks up his sleeve. As Mad-Eye Apparated in for his shift, Remus left, knowing his next shift was at midnight.

Remus Apparated behind the bushes to relieve Dung from guard duty. Dung quickly vanished, probably looking for some new black market deal. Remus rolled his eyes and crouched behind the gate, watching Harry.

Harry turned back and forth on his bed in an uneasy sleep. His mind kept replaying Sirius falling through the Veil on a loop for the entire night. Something told him he was dying, but at this point, he would welcome death. Maybe someone else could finish off Voldemort.

Remus peeked around the gate, watching Harry toss and turn. He knew something had to be done, the boy was suffering in there.

Suddenly, he heard the bushes rustle. His hand slowly creeped down toward his wand. As it neared the handle, he was abruptly flung backwards and slammed against the gate, his hand too far from his wand to discreetly grab it.

Remus gasped as the wind was knocked out of him. He swallowed and blinked a few times, trying to breathe. When the world came back into focus, he was met by a pair of large silver eyes, set into a face that was barely a few inches from his own. Silver hair was pulled back into a braid, which cascaded down the back of the white catsuit the figure wore. She- for Remus now realized he was pinned by a female- wore silver gloves and high silver boots. Her gaze was intense, her eyes flicking over his face. Remus held still, too nervous to make a move. Eventually, the woman spoke.

"Hello, Remus," she said in a cultured tone. "Why aren't you helping Harry?"