I don't own Harry Potter.

Warnings: Language, AU, Character AU, Human! Dumbledore, Logical, Abused, Young! Harry, Godfather! Remus and umm... I'll probably add/change more later.

Pairings: None as of yet. Could likely have slash pairings in the future, so beware.

Beta: If anyone would like to volunteer their services for this story, that'd be most welcome. I can't promise how quickly chapters will be written, but I've got a good amount of frame work. I'd love someone to go over the chapters and perhaps bounce ideas off of. Message me if you're interested.

Author's Notes: Okay, so I was reading this story and Sirius and Harry got in this huge fight and Harry told Sirius that his parents should have made Remus godfather because Sirius was always leaving him when he needed him the most. And then whack, this idea decided to hit me in the face with its cruel insistence that I write it – no matter how many other projects I've got going on. I really have no idea where this is actually heading, but I'm sure it will straighten itself out. Any ideas would be most welcome! And reviews are a lovely source of encouragement.

Summary: "Hey, Moony?" Prongs whispered, his lips curved in a small, contented smile. "Would you be godfather?"

A Two Arrowed Sign

Look both ways before crossing the street. You never know when you may fall and weep. There is no right or wrong, but what is human and what should remain unsung.

Prologue

July 31, 1980

St. Mungo's Hospital

"Hey, Moony?" Prongs whispered, his lips curved in a small, contented smile that seemed to fill the room with peaceful, delighted, joy. A joy that had been absent for so long, stolen by the wisps of fear curling in the corners of everyone's hearts – meek and strong - that he almost couldn't distinguish the taste of it on his tongue. Sort of like the peppermint hot chocolate the house elves gave us at Christmastime every year.

"Yeah?" He rasped, his voice almost breathless, his bones heavy with the overpowering feelings of happiness. It purred loudly like a cat, echoing in his ears. It sneaked into the sharp edges of his soul, stained with the loss of love and the frozen thirst for vengeance – another facetious 'thank you' to the red-eyed monster devouring innocence.

"Would you be godfather?"

The words were strong, as if James expected his immediate acceptance to such an honour - an honour that he didn't deserve; no matter how many times Lily would later try to convince him. Shock surged through him like the bursts of adrenalin that pounced upon him when he would wake up from another nightmare, seeing the masks of death eaters around him only to shake his head and just find the dusty faces of picture frames and long-forgotten books. He glanced down at the bundle in Lily's arms, the small puffs of raven hair, sleepy eyes that seemed to burn into his with such intensity he could feel his hands shake, and tiny fists seemingly the size of his thumb. And then it threw itself upon him, attached itself to his very core, protectiveness, to a deep aching, give everything I've got to have you breathe another steady, beautiful breath.

"But I thought Sirius...?" He trailed off, fighting the taste of tears in his throat and the way his voice slightly trembled. He's too precious to have a werewolf for a godfather.

James smile widened, reaching into his bones and making his stomach ache with cheer. "Lily and I talked about it, and as much as I love you Sirius," he threw a cheeky glance at the other black-haired man in the room, who had this large grin on his lips; "you're not really the responsible type, so we thought..." James met his eyes, hopeful.

"Y-yes, of course. I'd love to." I'll protect you, love you, with everything I've got, cub.

The baby gurgled in his mother's arms, capturing the attention of every presence in the room, and let his eyes close.

Harry James Potter was happy.

October 30, 1981

Godric's Hollow

"Are you all well?" Remus asked, his eyes scanning the face of his best friend through the small mirror. James' eyes were bright, but held that look of hopelessness that he always found staring back at him in the mirror every morning. His face was slightly pinched and his glasses sat a bit crookedly on his nose, but other than that he looked healthy.

"Yeah; Harry's flying around the house on that broomstick Sirius bought him and Lily's baking again." He grinned slightly, showing his white teeth, but Remus could see it was slightly forced. He knew James was dying to get out of that house – he had always been a free spirit and to confine him was almost as bad as torture. But James was also very protective of his family and friends, willing to do anything to keep them safe. It just so happened going into hiding was the safest thing for themselves and little Harry. It'll be over soon, we'll get the bastard and you won't have to hide anymore, Prongs.

Harry. The boy was the most mischievous one year old Remus had ever come in contact with. He was always grinning and crawling around, getting into something he wasn't supposed to. He was smart about it though, something Remus had decided he got from Lily. Of course, Prongs openly protested that statement, proclaiming that Harry got his cleverness and good looks from his father, but it was a losing argument. Everyone knew Lily was the cunning one.

Harry had brought a spark into the Marauders – Sirius had developed a softness for the child that Remus hadn't known he possessed; James was joking more and didn't look so tired; Lily's worry lines thinned out; even Peter seemed to be smiling more. The happy baby had brought a hopeful flame into their hearts, leaving them lighter and all the more determined to end this awful war.

And then they had found out about the prophecy.

Sirius and Peter had no knowledge of it. James and Lily had only confided in Remus because they felt he needed to know, especially if something happened to them. It was an aching option to consider, but this was war and people die and no one can control that. As Harry's godfather, they believed he may be able to protect Harry more easily with the knowledge, whether it meant leaving Britain all together or changing Harry's name and hiding him in plain sight. Whatever will keep him safe, Lily had said tearfully. It had made him physically sick to hear his bubbly godson, who was barely a year old, might be destined to defeat one of the worst dark lords since Salazar Slytherin – nevermind that he never put much stock into the whole subject of divination. Voldemort had been regretfully informed of the prophecy, trying several failed attempts on Harry's life already. That left James and Lily with no other choice but accept that since Voldemort believed the prophecy, they'd have to take the necessary measures of protection.

"Good." Remus smiled, eyes connecting with James' in a way that only spoke of years of friendship and understanding. The Marauders knew each other like the backs of their hands and secrets were only allowed with it was life or death, something they had never encountered until their graduation and their beginning involvement in the war.

The war had changed the dynamics of their group and that made Remus hate Voldemort and his gang of sadistic pure-bloods all the more.

Friendship had never been something that came easily for Remus, being a werewolf made people highly prejudice to his very existence – least of all actually taking an effort to treat him like a human being. The Marauders were all the Remus had and the fact that this war was trying to tear them apart was killing him. Apparently all the promises they had made over the years were worthless in the eyes of everyone else. One of the Marauders is the traitor, they accuse.

"How are you, Moony?" James questioned, leading back into the red chair he was curled up in. Remus could almost see him; one of his knees would be pulled up to his chest, the other leg he would be sitting on, one arm wrapped around his mid-section and the other holding the mirror at eye-level.

He wished he could go back in time where the four of them were curled together on the comfy couches in Gryffindor Tower, planning another prank that would undoubtedly land them another detention. It was simple then, easy. They didn't have worry about death eaters and prophecies and evil dark lords. They could be careless and breathless with life.

"I'm good," Remus smiled half-heartedly. "Don't worry about me."

Prongs' eyebrows scrunched together. "Were Padfoot and Wormtail with you last full moon?"

"Padfoot was, but Peter was busy." Remus trailed off as James looked guilty. "James, that is not your fault! I know you would have been there if you could; just like every other time."

"Doesn't change it." muttered James, before shaking his head. "I probably ought to go make sure Harry's not flying into walls."

"Take care, okay?"

"Marauder's honour!"

November 3, 1981

Hogwarts

"Please, Dumbledore!" The man begged. He had dark circles under his eyes and his body was tightly curled into itself, his shoulders hunched. His face was worn and his bottom lip trembled in uncontrollable grief. "Please, just let me see him."

"Remus!" Dumbledore said harshly. "Look at yourself! You are in no state to see him like this, least of all take care of him!" His voice softened and he looked very, very old. "You know as well as I do that the Ministry would never give custody of the 'Boy-Who-Lived' to a werewolf. Harry is safest at his Aunt and Uncle's home. They will take care of him and the blood wards will ensure his safety from outside involvement."

"You don't understand! Petunia hates magic – she hates Lily! You should have heard the things she told her! The blood wards won't protect him from those muggles!" Remus yelled, wishing that Dumbledore would just understand. He wasn't there when Petunia Dursley had shown up at Lily and James' wedding. He had no idea of her views of the magical world – or freaks in her vocabulary. What fucking right did Albus Dumbledore have just to hand James and Lily's son off to those people?

"Mr. Lupin," His voice was sharp and at that moment Remus knew that he had lost the battle. "Harry will be perfectly safe, I assure you. I must ask that you return home now."

Remus had never hated Dumbledore more than he had at that moment. What right did Dumbledore have to stop him from seeing his godson? The child that he was supposed to love and protect, no matter if his parents were gone or not. No matter if Padfoot betrayed them all and was stuffed inside Azkaban. No matter if Peter was dead and Remus was left all alone. Harry was his responsibility and he would never just listen to the words of Dumbledore to give up on every promise he'd ever made to James or as a Marauder. We take care of our own, okay? Until our dying breath.

He turned on his heel and headed to the fireplace. Dumbledore never saw his determined eyes – if he had, perhaps he would have gone to greater lengths to keep Remus Lupin away.

Remus had lost the battle, but he'd win the war – even if it took years and years.

Harry was all he had left.