A/N: This story is unbeta'd because it's not a very serious project of mine. I was basically mauled by a plot bunny while trying to write two essays for a lit. class, and then again while trying to write three more essays in German. Luckily, I escaped with my life because the bunny wanted me to do its bidding. We'll see if my grades will be as fortunate. Anyway, concrit is always good, but keep in mind that I'm not taking this very seriously. I kinda' jacked a few people's plots, stuck 'em in a blender, and then wrote this. As much as that is the case, I do think that it'll make for an interesting read because I've tried to avoid as many cliches as possible and make things realistic. Well, give it a chance, at least, if you've gone so far as to click the link, and ignore my blathering.

Prologue

On the morning of May thirteenth, wizarding Britain woke to the most shocking Daily Prophet headline since November first, some eight and a half years prior. In fact, nearly two thirds of the work force were nearly late because they and their spouses had stopped to read the article instead of putting the tea on or showering. When employers and employees congregated, the morning's Prophet entered into nearly every conversation, overshadowing even the previous week's alarming revelation, which had been the disappearance of The Boy Who Lived. Store clerks swapped rumors with customers, nodding and agreeing that it was all "very dodgy, yes, very dodgy indeed." Reporters, photographers, secretaries, and interns at the Daily Prophet office scurried through hazes of parchment and owl feathers, desperate for an evening edition that could match the morning's.

But what could possibly out-dazzle the block letters proclaiming, SIRIUS BLACK RELEASED! Or even the subheading, "bizarre twist proves Black innocent, framed by childhood friend back from dead." It read like a Quibbler headline, and the story got even stranger, with illegal Animagi, severed fingers, secret Secret Keepers, pet rats turning into Death Eaters, and an innocent man in Azkaban for life. Witches and wizards young and old bypassed Flourish and Blotts for the fantastic tales on the newstands, for the photographs of the skeletal figure in prison robes shielding his eyes for the camera flashes and onslaught of voices and people and activity, of Fudge signing the release, of healers marveling at an inmate still sane after eight and a half years.

Boy Who Lived Still Missing.

That was the only headline Remus read before passing the paper to the eager, clawlike grasp of his houseguest. Four days had done little to remove the haunted stare from the pale eyes scanning the front page, or to add life to the waxy, sunken cheeks. Cut, clean hair, new robes hanging from his frame, atrophied muscles that still shook after too many stairs. Sirius bolted his sausauge and eggs with the grace of a half-starved mutt as he read.

"They've had so many Aurors dealing with me and Peter, who's looking for Harry?" Sirius demanded, yoke dribbling down his chin.

"They're looking. Dumbledore's looking. Everyone from the Order is looking. Half the wizarding world is looking." Remus hoped he sounded comforting. He sipped his tea, not having had much appetite in the last week.

"Peter was looking," Sirius growled back. "You can bet Malfoy will be looking, MacNair, Goyle, Bulstrode, Nott, Snape."

"Snape is on our side."

Sirius spared a sharp glare for that remark.

"He's fine," Remus said. "He's still got his aunt's protection, Lily's protection. They'll find him, and he'll be fine." These words were in danger of becoming a mantra.

"Are you going to just sit here and wait, then?"

Remus opened his mouth to tell Sirius to rest and recover before realizing how stupid it sounded. Healers, Aurors, politicians, and Headmasters had managed to put him off the last few days, but this morning had seen a far more anxious Padfoot. So he said, "Do you want to try Little Whinging, or go straight into London?"

Sirius looked up at him, eyes wide with surprise for a moment, but then he tossed the paper aside, onto the scuffed and polished floor. "I thought you were meant to keep an eye on me? Keep the nutter safe inside? Isn't that why the Ministry is taking so long to 'find' my wand?"

"How long do you plan on playing the loveable stray while your godson is god only knows where? The least I can do is keep you on a lead."

"A lead, Moony? Sorry, mate, I wasn't in prison that long."

Remus only rolled his eyes and sipped more tea. "We'll start by questioning his aunt and uncle ourselves, then?"