Remus Lupin sat in the Three Broomsticks and sipped butterbeer as he waited for Dumbledore to arrive. The Headmaster's vague message had said nothing about why he wished to meet, only that it was imperative for them to do so. The urgency of his tone made Remus anxious.
At length he saw the familiar profile come through the door. Remus checked his watch; Dumbledore was right on time. The elderly wizard looked over the entire room briefly before settling his eyes on Remus. Something about his gaze made the werewolf uncomfortable. The customary twinkle was absent.
Dumbledore strode over to Remus's table. Remus rose to greet the Headmaster.
'Good evening, Professor,' he said politely, shaking Dumbledore's hand.
'Good evening, Remus,' Dumbledore replied. 'Do you mind if I join you?'
'Of course not, Professor. Please sit down.'
Madam Rosmerta made her way over to their table, and the Headmaster ordered a tankard of her finest mead before sitting down. Once the mead had arrived, Dumbledore thanked her, and then, once she had left, looked sharply into Remus's eyes.
'Tell me, Remus,' he said quietly. 'Had you anything to do with the disappearance of Harry Potter?'
Remus was startled. 'Harry? Harry's disappeared? What happened?'
Dumbledore looked into Remus's eyes for what seemed an eternity, but finally he seemed convinced that Remus's surprise was genuine, as he sat back in his chair and sighed.
'Yes, I am afraid Harry has been taken from his relatives' home in Surrey,' he replied sadly. 'I have been unable to determine who is responsible.'
Remus couldn't believe it. James's son—kidnapped! The werewolf was devastated. He had obeyed Dumbledore's wishes and avoided Harry these five years, but it had pained him to do it, and Remus continued to care deeply for his friend's son.
'I could never hurt Harry,' he whispered. 'I would do anything to help him.'
Dumbledore nodded gravely. 'I know. In fact, that is why I suspected you in the first place. I feared that you might have removed Harry from his relatives' care out of a misguided wish to help him.'
Remus's eyes narrowed. 'Didn't they treat him well?'
Dumbledore shook his head wearily, looking for all the world like Atlas beneath his eternal burden. 'I am afraid that they treated him very poorly indeed. I suspect that Harry may have left voluntarily with his kidnappers. It is the only way I believe they could have penetrated the defences that surround the Dursley residence.'
'Do you have any leads?'
'None.' Dumbledore's voice sounded more uncertain that Remus had ever heard it. 'The Dursleys' memories have been altered.' He laughed mirthlessly. 'They do not even remember that Harry ever existed.'
'What can I do to help?' Remus asked, his expression resolute.
'There is something,' Dumbledore said slowly. 'It is conceivable that one of the neighbours might have heard or seen something that could give us a clue. You could return to Privet Drive and make discreet enquiries.'
Remus nodded. 'I'll do it. Anything to help.'
'Excellent.' Dumbledore drained his mead and stood up to leave. 'Let me know if you learn anything of value. I have some other avenues to explore as well.' He looked resolute. 'We shall get to the bottom of this, Remus.'
Remus hesitated. 'Professor, what is to become of Harry when we find him?' He steadfastly refused to say 'if.' 'We can't send him back to his relatives, not if they really are mistreating him.'
Dumbledore looked at Remus severely. 'It is imperative that Harry return to the Dursleys' care. The fate of the entire world may well depend upon it.'
Meanwhile, at number seventeen, Windermere Court, life soon settled into a happy, if unvarying, rhythm. Aunt Clytemnestra set herself to redecorating Harry's bedroom, even allowing him to help pick the colours and the style of the furniture.
The day after their visit to the Ministry, she had taken him to Twilfit and Tatting's, where she had purchased Harry more new robes (and underclothes) than he had imagined any one boy could possibly wear. The hand-me-downs he had been wearing were banished to storage, and Regina's portrait said with approval that Harry finally looked the part of her son.
Uncle Marius had officially retired from all his positions in the Muggle world, and now devoted himself full-time to Harry's upbringing. He took the bedroom next to Harry's and dedicated it as a playroom, and then took Harry to Diagon Alley in order to select toys with which to fill it.
Uncle Marius was very difficult to shop with, as he tended to purchase anything if Harry so much as indicated a slight liking for it, and so Harry had to learn very quickly how to control his reactions. He did not wish to abuse his uncle's kindness.
Life at Windermere Court, in deference to the age-old traditions of the wizarding aristocracy, followed an unvarying schedule. Harry awoke at six o'clock every day, washed and dressed before taking breakfast downstairs with his aunt and uncle. After breakfast, he began his lessons promptly in the library at half-past-seven. Harry already knew how to read and write, so Aunt Clytemnestra taught him wizarding etiquette, French, Latin and arithmetic.
Uncle Marius taught him history and genealogy and drilled Harry on his handwriting. (Uncle Marius wrote with a particularly beautiful script.) After lessons, he was permitted to fly his toy broomstick in the garden briefly before returning at eleven for his piano lesson, given by Aunt Clytemnestra, who had in fact once been a well-known concert pianist.