Author's note: It'll be at the bottom of the page due to its length.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own Buffy: The Vampire Slayer, nor do I own the song Crow & The Butterfly. No ownage means no monies. No monies means no sue, 'cause you'll get nada but a buncha lawyer's fees. 'Sides, does it look like Harry's living with Remus and Sirius to you? No? What about Xander finally finding parents in Giles, Spike, Angel, and/or Joyce? Still nothing? Yeah, sooo doesn't sound like one of my fantasy worlds…

Chapter 1: I Was Just A Little Too Late

I painted your room at midnight,

So I'd know that yesterday was over.

"Harry? What are you doing up so late?"

A thin, fey-like boy's brilliant emerald eyes gazed blankly from underneath untidy black locks at a tall red-head of roughly the same age, though you couldn't tell by looking at them. The red-head seemed about 15, which he was, while the other looked no older than 12, and that was pushing it. Where the red-head was tall and muscled, the other was short and wiry. The red-head was healthy, born of his environment. The other…was also born of his environment, and that left him in a state of health not to be desired.

Eyes finally alighting with recognition, the fey-like child smiled. It did not reach his eyes as he replied, "Oh, 'lo Ron."

The red-head sighed. "We all miss him, Harry," he began, reaching out to place a hand on his friend's shoulder, "But staying up all hours of the night isn't going to bring him back. Get some sleep mate, alright?"

Harry's eyes dropped to look at the ground as he forcibly hid a flinch from the touch. "Yeah," he said hoarsely, "Guess you're right. Night, Ron."

Ron studied his friend's face for a few seconds, and then nodded. "Things will turn out for the best, mate. Sirius would've wanted it that way." With that said, he turned to leave the room.

Harry let a pained smile cross his face before raising his wand to point at the wall. "Scourgify," he whispered, stripping the paint off of the wall with the force of the magic he pushed into the simple spell.

I put all your books on the top shelf,

Even the one with the four-leaf clover…

"Harry, have you seen Spells and Rituals Through The Ages anywhere? I've tried accio-ing it, but I think it might be charmed for that not to work…"

Harry looked up from staring at the fireplace he'd once seen Sirius's head in the last school year to his bushy-haired bookworm friend. Her wild brown hair bounced with every small movement of her head, which she shook when he blinked at her owlishly.

"Honestly, Harry," she chided, "You need to get more sleep. How can you expect to pass your OWLs if you can't even follow a conversation?" She then turned on her heel to go bug Ron to see if he knew where her precious book was.

"That was Siri's book, 'Miony," he murmured, curling in in himself in the chair, "It was Siri's…"

Man, I'm getting older.

"Another year, gone. And with it, goes our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Miss Umbridge…"

"Harry!" Hermione hissed, poking her dazed friend in the side, "Pay attention! Professor Dumbledore might say something important!"

"Sorry, 'Mione," Harry replied dully, his thoughts still elsewhere. Another year at Hogwarts was over, and he was doomed to return to Privet Drive, doomed to be alone once again. /Was this what they meant by feeling old before one's time?/ he mused absently.

I took all your pictures off the wall,

And wrapped them in a newspaper blanket.

Harry stared at the picture in his hands, one of him, Sirius, and Remus. They'd taken it the previous summer at Grimmould Place, when they all still held the dream of living there together, once Siri's name was cleared, of course.

He gently placed the picture in a small moke-skin pouch he'd gotten from Sirius for his birthday the previous year. The pouch had an expanding charm, a notice-me-not charm, and a feather-weight charm on it, so he'd used it to pack everything that would normally go in his trunk. He also planted false items into his old trunk to fool his oh-so-loving relatives once he got off of the train.

"I miss you, Siri," he murmured, a single tear rolling down the side of his face.

I haven't slept in what feels like a century,

And now I can barely breathe…

"Boy! Get your things, we're leaving!"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry said dully, quickly putting away the gardening supplies he'd gotten out early that morning in order to finish the chores. He'd learned not to inflect his voice a long time ago if he wanted to avoid his Uncle's wrath for any period of time.

Going inside of the house, he realized for the first time that summer that everything had been boxed up, as if they were getting ready for a move. He hadn't slept in so long…every time he'd tried, he'd seen Siri's face as he'd fallen through the veil…Harry had to force himself to breathe; otherwise he might just stop all together, once and for all.

"Get a move on," a tall, thin, horse-like woman snapped, "The airplane won't wait for the likes of you, now will it?"

"Where are we going?" The words fell from his mouth before he could stop himself, and he cringed, waiting for the slap.

And so it came, hard and fast across his face, sending the small, waif-like boy reeling, along with the words, "Vernon's been transferred, you ungrateful little brat! We'll all be moving to a town called Sunnydale. It's in California, in the United States."

Just like a crow chasing a butterfly,

Dandelions lost in the summer skies,

Harry had a window seat on the plane, the only member of his 'family' to be flying in the coach; the three Dursley's had first class tickets. He looked out of the window and wondered what his life would be like if…he closed his eyes briefly in pain, the death still a fresh wound on his heart.

When you and I were getting high as outer space,

I never thought you would slip away.

His time with Sirius was like a dream, here was an adult that actually saw him, not The-Boy-Who-Lived him, but the Just Harry him, and honestly liked what they saw. Sirius played the games he'd not been allowed to play while growing up with him, and acted like it was the most natural thing in the world. And even though Sirius was a wanted criminal /Falsely convicted! He was innocent!/, it was like he was always there, that he'd never leave.

I guess I was just a little too late.

Harry looked at the small house just a few blocks away from the local high school. He sighed. /If it weren't for me,/ he thought sadly, dragging his trunk to the basement doors at the side of the house, /I'd be living with Siri and Remy right now…/

"Boy! We've enrolled you in the public school, the Freaks won't be saving you here!" his fat, walrus-of-an-uncle shouted from the main house. Harry paled, but resigned himself to his fate.

/It's no more than I deserve,/ he told himself firmly, /This is what I get for not saving Sirius…/

Your words still serenade me,

You're lullabies won't let me sleep.

I've never heard such a haunting melody…

As Harry sat in the waiting area of the main office of the high school, he rubbed his eyes tiredly. He hadn't slept a wink since Sirius had died. Over and over in his head he kept on hearing Sirius asking him to come live with him, Sirius laughing at some prank the twins had pulled or some joke he'd said, Sirius telling him stories from his days at Hogwarts…Sirius holding him as he cried out all the pain from years without love, rocking him tenderly as he told him how much he loved him, how Harry would always be his and Remus's cub, Sirius's voice waking him up from a nightmare, telling him that it was okay, that he'd always be there…

"Mr. Potter, Principal Snyder will see you now."

Harry stood and slowly made his way to the principal's office. The principal, an ugly troll of a man, looked at him with disdain, as if he were a bug he'd like nothing better than to squash underfoot.

"Mr. Potter," Snyder began in a nasal, self-important tone, "Your Uncle has been so kind as to inform me of your previous enrolment at St. Brutus's Academy for Criminal Boys. You're probably hoping to look at going to this school as a fresh start, beginning over with a clean slate. Normally, this would be the case. However," here the man leaned forward, over his desk and finished sinisterly, "I'll be keeping my eye on you. Get your schedule from the front desk and get off to class."

As Harry left the room he heard the words, "Remember, Mr. Potter, I'll be watching!" and hid a shudder.

Oh, it's killing me…

Harry opened the door to the library, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he looked around for the librarian. To his surprise, he saw a group of kids he'd seen in some of his classes—a blond girl, a red-headed girl, and a pair of brunettes, one boy and one girl—sitting around a table littered with books on magic and demonology.

"Bloody hell," he murmured, shaking his head. At his soft exclamation, the blond girl and the brunette girl's heads jerked up to look at him. The other two, following their gazes, began to look at him too. He flushed slightly under their gaze, and decided against asking them about what they were reading.

"Err, would you mind if I were to study in here? I'm a bit behind in, well, everything," he said a bit sheepishly. The four exchanged a few quick glances before seeming to come to a decision. They all stood up and walked over to him, smiles on all of their faces.

"Sure, I can even tutor you, if you want! I'm Willow, by the way," the red-head said in a bubbly voice. Harry couldn't help but smile back at her, her good humor was just that contagious.

"Thanks," he said with a sigh of relief, "That'd be brilliant. Usually I've got my friend 'Mione to help, but she's back at my old school. She's always yelling at me and Ron to study, if you'd ask her, she'd say that the worst thing in the world that could happen to someone is being expelled." Noticing the mild amusement on their faces from his babbling, he bowed his head and said, "Sorry, usually Ron or 'Mione would've cut me off by now…"

He felt a stab of pain at their amusement; that was Sirius's reaction the first time he'd seen him babble. He really missed Sirius, with every fiber of his being. Sirius was a father and a best friend all rolled into one, and it was his fault he was gone.

You know I can barely breathe?

"Don't worry about it," the brunet boy said, waving his hand dismissively, "Our Wills here is the Queen of Babble. We all do it, eventually. It drives Giles mad. Oh, and I'm Xander. Are you new here?"

"Err, yes, I am. Is it that obvious?" The blond smiled.

"Well, yeah, it is. The only other person from the Land of Tea and Tweed around here is Giles, our librarian." She reached out a hand and said, "I'm Buffy. This is Faith," here she pointed to the brunette girl, "Nice to meet you…?"

Harry reflexively reached out to shake her hand and replied, "Harry, Harry Potter. It's nice to meet all of you, as well."

"Dear lord, are you really?" a British voice exclaimed from behind him.

Harry turned sharply towards the new voice, his hand inching to the wand in his pocket. Before him stood a tall man with greying hair and glasses, dressed in a rust-colored tweed suit. /That explains the Land of Tea and Tweed comment,/ he thought distractedly.

"Who are you?" Harry asked suspiciously. The man took off his glasses and began to clean them on his shirt.

"How could I forget my manners? My name is Rupert Giles, I'm the school librarian. Now, are you really Harry Potter? The Harry Potter?" Giles said, putting his glasses back on, a look of academic interest on his face. Willow, Buffy, Faith and Xander look on with a mix of confusion, suspicion, and curiosity. Harry just sighed tiredly and nodded.

He hated his fame. Because of being The-Boy-Who-Didn't-Just-Bloody-Die, Cedric had died, Mr. Weasley had almost died, his friends had followed him into perilous danger, and Sirius, his only hope for a better, normal family, had been killed. Just the thought of it made his breath catch in this throat.

Just like a crow chasing a butterfly,

"Astonishing," Giles murmured before asking, "Then is He truly back?"

"Yes, He's back. Didn't you hear? Fudge was sacked because He was seen at the Ministry," Harry replied bitterly, filled with self-loathing from remembering the battle at the Ministry. Why couldn't Voldemort just leave him be? He was just Harry, a teenage wizard that hadn't even finished his schooling. What sort of threat could he possible pose to a wizard more than thirty years his senior? Oh, yes, the prophesy. Told by none other than that fake, Trawleny. He hated that prophesy almost as much as he hurt from all the deaths that occurred because of him.

Dandelions lost in the summer skies,

"Fudge was sacked? Oh, well, I suppose Remus just forgot to mention that…"

Harry's eyes brightened slightly. "Remus? As in Remus Lupin? You know him?" he asked hopefully.

Giles nodded. "Yes, the very same. He's my younger brother." Harry blinked in confusion. Since when did Remus have an older brother. "From the look on your face, I take it he's never mentioned me," Giles said good naturedly, nearly hiding the accusation in his voice.

"Remy doesn't talk about himself too much. Most of what I know about him, Siri—" His voice broke as Harry bit back a sob. He looked at the ground to regain his composure so he missed the looks of concern that passed over his head, and the tall, tired, amber-eyed man that had followed Giles into the library. Once (mostly) calm, Harry finished, "Siri…Sirius told me almost everything I know about Remus. Remy usually only told me about…about Mum and Dad."

/That, and about how much he was looking forward to living with me and Siri…/ Harry thought bitterly, /But look what happened to that dream./

When you and I were getting high as outer space,

I never thought you would slip away.

I guess I was just a little too late.

Giles looked pointedly at his younger sibling, who was gaining odd looks from all of the teens besides Harry, who was still looking at the ground. Remus hesitated for a second before heading over to his cub to pull him into a tight, warm hug, filled with the promise of a loving family.

Just like a crow chasing a butterfly,

Dandelions lost in the summer skies,

When you and I were getting high as outer space,

I never thought you would slip away!

Harry tensed for a few seconds before he realized just who was holding him. He relaxed into the hug, returned it, and closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of one of the two men he thought of as a parental figure…well, the only one now, at any rate.

"I'm sorry, cub," Remus said softly to the now silently sobbing teen, "I should've stopped him from going. I'm so sorry for letting you lose Sirius…" Harry shook his head ferociously, hugging the werewolf even tighter.

"It's not your fault, Remy," Harry said, his face muffled from being buried in Remus's chest, "It's my fault. I shouldn't have trusted Kreature, and I should've been trying harder with Snape…If it weren't for me, he'd still be here!"

Remus began rubbing soothing circles on Harry's back and carding his fingers through his cub's hair. "Shh, cub, it's alright. Siri would be proud of the way he went, protecting the thing he cared about most. It'll be okay, cub, it has to be. I can't lose you too…"

Just like a crow chasing a butterfly,

Dandelions lost in the summer skies,

Harry finally pulled away from the hug, and Remus just held him at an arm's length and studied him. His eyes narrowed at the dark circles under the boy's eyes, and the way he held himself, as if recovering from broken or bruised ribs. He remembered what he and Sirius had found out when they were researching their cub's home life when they were preparing to gain guardianship over him, and he looked Harry directly in the eyes.

"Harry," he began seriously, "Does the Order know you're here?" Harry flinched and averted his eyes. "Oh, cub," he said sadly, gently maneuvering Harry to a chair to sit down, "They got worse, didn't they?" Shocked, Harry jerked his face up to look at Remus with horror.

"You knew?" he asked, terrified. /But if he knew, why didn't anyone do anything?/ Harry wailed mentally. Remus looked over at his brother, completely ignoring the other three teens in the library, despite the fact that something about the blond and brunette girls sent his senses on edge.

"Rupes," he said seriously, "I know you've got a kit somewhere. Get it for me?" Giles looked confused for a second before it dawned on him, and then his face turned grave. Giving his brother a terse nod, he left to get a first-aid kit. Looking back at Harry, Remus said, "Sirius and I…we found out a few days before he…before he died. We wanted to get you away from it, but once Sirius died…just like before, I was denied guardianship because of my…furry little problem."

"But you tried?" Harry asked desperately.

When you and I were getting high as outer space,

"Yes, cub. And I still haven't stopped trying. I actually came here to get Rupes's help. As a member of the International Watcher's Council, he's got a lot of potential pull at the Ministry…" Remus said, trailing off as Giles returned with the first-aid kit. "Thanks, Rupes." Giles shook his head and reached out a hand to ruffle his brother's hair fondly.

"How many times must I tell you to not refer to me by that infernal nick-name?" he griped playfully, giving the impression that this was an argument more of habit rather than actual exasperation. Remus grinned widely, a hint of the old Marauder spirit shining in his face.

"At least one more time, big bro."

I never thought you would slip away.

"So," Giles said, sitting next to the four teens, across from Harry who had been pulled into Remus's lap, "I take it this is why you came to visit after all of these years?" Remus winced, but nodded. "Sorry, Remus, but I can't help you." Remus's eyes first grew large, then narrow and cold, his hold on Harry becoming protective.

I guess I was just a little too late.

"If you don't help, Rupert," Remus said with a cold certainty that set off the four teens next to Giles's Danger-Sense, "Then I will have to obliviate you. I can't, and I won't, let Harry stay with those monsters any longer. Even if it means that I have to sort to drastic measures." Harry looked up at Remus, confusion and the tiniest hint of hope written on his face. Why would Remus try so hard, care so much, for the likes of him? He was broken, a Freak even among freaks, it didn't make sense for Remus to be risking his relationship with his brother for someone like him.

Remus looked down at Harry and smiled sadly, knowing what was probably running through his cub's mind. "You are worth it, cub," he said tenderly, his face showing nothing but paternal love and devotion for the young abused boy, "You are worth everything and more. And if Sirius were here, he'd tell you the same thing."

To be continued…

Author's note, take two: Okay, so I came up with this totally randomly while I was singing this song to myself while doing the laundry. Strange, I know, but that's how it happened. The other chapters might be songfics as well, I don't know for sure yet, but it's a major possibility. It all depends on my muse, who's decided to be difficult and isn't returning my calls. I think it left me 'cause I ran out of Pocky…note to self: get more Pocky, a.s.a.p. Well, hope y'all enjoy this little plot bunny, while it lasts…DUN DUN DUN! Oh, and while I'm at it, just a quick warning to my readers: I'm VERY bad at regularly updating my stories, but I do update them. So I'll type up the next chapter and update this story…eventually…fingers crossed…