Putting memories in a pensieve was a neat solution to letting Draco experience many situations and learn things that his father definitely would not have approved of, if he were aware. Narcissa had made sure that her pureblood magical son was well versed in the Muggle world, staying aware of the current trends, everything from clothing to technology to politics. He had also attended a Muggle after school program, and played briefly on a pee wee football team.
The pensieve he used was one designed for children, although originally used to remove traumatic memories so that authorities could examine them and the children begin to heal. Ethically, it was a bit of a grey area, she mused. But she was taking every precaution, and had decreased the outings as he grew older and began to understand Lucius’s vitriol against Muggleborns.
This particular memory would help her as well, even if it was from her eleven year old’s point of view. Children were much more aware and observant than anyone gave them credit for, so it was highly likely that he had noticed more about ‘Remus’ than she had.
James barely waited until they were out of sight before he started cursing animatedly. Harry listened, wide-eyed and enthralled. “Er…don’t repeat any of those around your uncle.” His father said sheepishly after a moment.
“Sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to – it just slipped!” the eleven year old exclaimed earnestly. “I don’t think Mrs. Malfoy or Draco heard us anyway, or else they would’ve said something, right? If I promise I won’t bug you about going to look at brooms anymore, can we go get lunch before we go home? The Polyjuice won’t wear off for another hour…”
The automatic denial died on James’s lips as Harry stared up at him. Damn those green eyes… “Just a quick bite.” He conceded. “And not at the Leaky Cauldron – too many people may recognize Remus for me to pull off being him. C’mon, there’s a place ‘round the corner…”
They took off down the street, never seeing the wizard who Apparated silently in behind them, or the silent spells that hit them both in the back, knocking them unconscious.
“Dear, dear me.” Albus Dumbledore murmured, shaking his head. “Remus Lupin, you naughty boy. I thought I thought had sufficiently warned you away from young Harry when he was a baby. Certainly the wards didn’t deter you as I thought they would.”
It was a good thing that one of the silver gadgets on his desk monitored a tracking charm that he had placed on Harry before leaving him at the Dursleys. It had taken a few days to acclimate, then stopped responding all together, but he had assumed that there was too much interference, between the distance and the bit of magic surrounded by all of the Muggle technology. He had thought nothing more of it, confident in the fact that Harry was exactly where he had left him – until the gadget had started spinning and sputtering again that morning, eventually giving him the coordinates, right in Diagon Alley.
He pulled absently on his beard, thinking. “No matter. I can’t have you marauding and mucking about, messing up my plans.” He chuckled in delight at his word play, before waving his wand over each of them. “Perhaps in a couple of years, if the timing is right…but I digress. That is for the future. But what to do with you now?” He mused. “I know!” He snapped his fingers. “How convenient that we are already close to London, and a particular Muggle hospice…” He Apparated away, taking Remus’s body with him. A Confundus charm and some sweet talking later, and Dumbledore strolled out the front door of Avalon Hospice and Assisted Care, as the nurses and staff bustled about, settling their new long term coma patient. The old wizard turned a corner and disappeared, back to Diagon Alley to deliver Harry to his destination.