Stars

The owl came early on the morning of the last day of July, swooping in through the open window and dropping the letter on the table in front of him, where it landed Hogwarts-crest-side up. For a moment he stared at it; the lion, the badger, the eagle and the snake entwined around the letter H, their colours gleaming in the early-morning sun. Then he reached out and picked it up, breathing in the still-familiar scent of Hogwarts envelopes and Hogwarts parchment, and tried not to remember the last time he'd received a note that looked like this.

The letter inside was short and to the point.

Dear Mr Lupin,

As you may or may not be aware, our current teacher of Defence Against the Dark Arts has recently suffered an unfortunate and probably permanent loss of memory. This leaves us once again in need of a replacement, and we would like to offer you the post, beginning 1^st September 1993. Please reply within five days with your decision.

Yours very sincerely,

The Headmaster and Governors

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

In the bottom right hand corner, in a thin, sloping hand he recognised instantly as Dumbledore's, was a further message.

Remus,

I know you will worry about the effect your lycanthropy will have on your ability to do this job, but please do not let that influence your decision; I have made arrangements for that. I and the rest of the staff would be very happy to see you back at Hogwarts. I think it is possible you could do a lot of good here.

Albus Dumbledore

Remus read both parts of the letter three times before it fully sank in. He could go back to Hogwarts. He was being invited back to Hogwarts. He had the chance of a proper job and a good source of income at the place he'd been happiest. Why was he hesitating at seizing quill and ink and replying to Dumbledore straight away?

The second owl arrived with his Daily Prophet as if on cue. He paid it five Knuts, unfolded the newspaper it offered him and found himself looking into the eyes of Sirius Black for the first time in almost twelve years.

It was such an unexpected sight that he dropped both the newspaper and the cup of tea he had been holding.

'Damn,' he muttered as he took out his wand with a hand that shook slightly and dried off the front of his robes.

The newspaper lay on the floor where it had fallen, Sirius's face staring up at him. As he leaned down to pick it up he could feel his heart thumping against his ribcage with such force it seemed to echo throughout his whole body.

He tried to concentrate on reading the article, but over and over again his eyes were drawn back to the photograph of Sirius so that only the odd phrase registered. Escaped from Azkaban...never before...You-Know-Who's right-hand man...thirteen deaths...incredibly dangerous, most likely insane....

Sirius's hair was long and tangled, his face was gaunt and his skin ashen, but in his eyes there was still a trace of the man he had once been, far more than Remus would have expected after twelve years in Azkaban. Somehow that seemed to make it far worse, that after all this time Sirius had retained enough of his wits to fool the Dementors and escape Azkaban; but really, knowing Sirius as he had, why should it come as a surprise to him that Sirius Black was the first person to achieve this seemingly-impossible feat?

'What happened, Sirius? Where did we go wrong?' he said aloud.

Very carefully he folded the newspaper so that Sirius's face was hidden and, with a flick of his wand, sent it to join a pile of other papers waiting to be taken outside with the rest of the rubbish. He tried to study Dumbledore's letter again, even picked up his quill and a piece of parchment on which to write a reply, but found he couldn't think of anything but Sirius: Sirius, aged eleven, being Sorted into Gryffindor to the sounds of boos and jeers from his numerous cousins at the Slytherin table; Sirius, aged fifteen, poking his wand at the piece of parchment that was to become the Marauder's Map; Sirius, aged twenty-one, betraying James and Lily to Voldemort.

He groaned and screwed his eyes closed, shaking his head from side to side as if he could rid himself of the memories that way. How could he possibly go back to Hogwarts when every inch of the place reminded him of Sirius and what he had done? Sirius, who was now... where? Doing what? At this thought, Remus's eyes snapped open and his heart began to race again. If Sirius was sane enough to escape Azkaban, he was sane enough to have done so with some kind of intention. The only thing Remus could think of as being even remotely feasible was that he planned to pick up where Voldemort left off twelve years ago.

He glanced once again at Dumbledore's note.

I think it is possible you could do a lot of good here.

Harry. Was that what Sirius was after, to succeed where even Voldemort had failed and kill Harry himself? He couldn't help thinking it seemed very likely.

He hadn't realised, until he came to write the date at the top of the parchment, that today was Harry's thirteenth birthday.

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I would be delighted to accept your offer and take up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher....

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The first time he kissed Sirius Black he was eighteen and had just left Hogwarts forever.

It had been Sirius's idea to have the party, a celebration of their NEWT results and a start to their adult life.

'It'll be great fun, don't you think?' he said as they were sat in his flat one Sunday morning just after the end of the summer term, picking at the remains of a late breakfast. 'Don't you think so? Moony? Wormtail? Prongs? Evans?'

'Suppose it could be,' said James from the chair in the far corner where he was sat with his arms tightly wrapped around Lily's waist. 'As long as it isn't too much work or anything. It is the holidays, Padfoot, you know.'

''Course it won't be!' said Sirius brightly. 'Not with all five of us it wouldn't be.'

'Where would we have it?' asked Peter.

'Here, of course,' said Sirius. 'Plenty of room. A few Expanding Charms on the walls so we all fit in, a couple of Soundproofing Spells so the Muggles downstairs don't complain and we'll be ready to go.'

'You seem to have it all worked out, Pads,' said Remus, looking up from the Daily Prophet.

'Well, I thought it'd be good to celebrate our NEWT results with a bit of a party.'

'You seem very sure we'll have something to celebrate.'

'Moony's right, Padfoot,' said Peter. 'I'm sure I failed the Transfiguration exam. That third question, the one on -'

'Peter! Stop it!' cried Lily, clapping her hands over her ears. 'Let go of me, James, I can't breathe when you're grabbing me like that. It's enough to do the exam once without thinking about it afterwards.'

'People! Make a decision!' said Sirius. 'Are we having a party or not?'

'Yes!' said everyone else in unison.

'Excellent,' said Sirius, and took the last piece of bacon from the plate.

*

Remus woke early on the morning the NEWT results were due. For a while he lay in bed watching the sky get lighter and lighter behind his curtains, but when he began to feel he couldn't remain still a moment longer he crept into the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

'Pour me one of those, will you, Moony?' said Sirius, arriving silently just as the kettle was about to boil.

'Bloody hell, Sirius, do you have to creep up behind me like that?'

'Sorry, did I make you jump? I didn't mean to.' He yawned. Remus turned to look at him. His hair was tousled and sticking up at the back the way James's did on its most unruly days and there was a faint hint of shadows beneath his eyes. If Remus hadn't known it to be impossible he would have suspected Sirius of lying awake worrying about NEWT results himself.

'You all right?' he said, passing Sirius a cup of tea. 'Not... worried, or anything? Because...'

''Course not,' said Sirius. 'Got to be up early to make sure everything's sorted for the party, haven't I?' He grinned almost as widely as usual. Remus looked across the kitchen at him and felt his stomach turn over. He sighed. Of all the foolish things he had done in his life to date, falling in love with his best friend had to be the most ridiculous.

Sirius heard the sigh and - rather fortunately, Remus thought - misinterpreted it. 'You're not worrying, are you? Because I tell you, Moony, if you don't get five Outstanding NEWTs I'll hex those bloody examiners, the amount of work you put it. Put me and Prongs to shame, you did.'

Remus couldn't help laughing at that.

'That's better,' Sirius continued. 'And the rest of us will do just as well as you. We'll have the best results in school, all four of us - sorry, all five of us, I forgot Evans - and tonight we'll celebrate by having the most brilliant party ever held to celebrate NEWT results. What more could you want?'

He moved across the kitchen to stand by the window. Remus watched him scanning the sky for the first sign of an owl, his fingers tapping against his cup. He wanted to say 'Why am I so concerned about my exam results when no one will employ me however good they are?' He wanted to say 'What do you think will happen to us now we're not at Hogwarts any more and God only knows what's going on out in the world?' He wanted to take Sirius in his arms and kiss him until his lips ached. But he didn't do any of those things. He just took his tea and stood by Sirius's side at the window and waited for his results to arrive.

*

As was so often the case, Sirius was right about the NEWT results.

'What did I tell you?' he said as Remus stood gazing at the piece of parchment on which his grades were written. 'Bit of a shame though. It would have been fun to turn old Griselda Marchbanks's hair blue or something.' He, James and Lily were delighted with their collection of Outstanding results and Peter was beside himself with joy: in addition to two Acceptables he had achieved an Exceeds Expectations and one Outstanding grade.

Once the initial celebrations were over, preparations for the party began in earnest. James and Lily were dispatched to the kitchen with matching aprons and instructions to assemble enough food 'to feed at least two hundred people.'

'How many people have you invited?' asked James, glancing round the living room, clearly wondering where they were all going to sit.

'Oh, not that many, but we'll be hungry, don't you think?'

'Eating leftovers for the next two weeks, more like.'

Sirius ignored that remark. 'And make sure there's plenty to drink.'

Whilst James and Lily were thus engaged, Sirius directed Remus and Peter in making the flat ready for guests. They cleaned the living room until it shone, cast a variety of spells on it that would enable it to hold all their visitors comfortably without any of their Muggle neighbours noticing and hung up the decorations Sirius had bought especially for the occasion. It was not until twenty minutes before the guests were due that Sirius was fully satisfied with the effect.

'There, doesn't that look good?' he said, spreading his arms wide to take in the whole room. Remus and Peter, collapsed in a heap on the sofa, were too exhausted to comment.

'Wonderful. Bloody wonderful,' said James, appearing round the kitchen door with a smudge of flour on his chin. 'Can I have a drink now?'

'I'd wash your face first if I were you, Prongs.'

Once the guests had arrived and he had eaten a handful of Chocolate Frogs, Remus felt rather more like a human being again. With a cup of coffee in one hand and a glass of Firewhisky in the other he made his way through the crowds of people Sirius had seen fit to invite, exchanging greetings and congratulations over NEWT results. He kept his eyes resolutely averted from Sirius, stood in the centre of the room with his arm around one pretty girl after another, his voice louder than anyone else's and audible even over the music.

Everywhere he went it seemed he overheard people talking about the future: the holidays they had planned for the summer and the jobs they would be starting in September. Frank Longbottom and his girlfriend Alice Pritchard were joining the Auror Office. Cecil Jones of Hufflepuff would be working at the Department of International Magical Co-operation. Two Ravenclaw girls he had sat next to in Potions were going to St Mungo's to train as Healers. With an ease born of years of practice he deflected questions about his own plans.

Later, once it had grown dark outside and the alcohol had been flowing freely for two hours or more, Sirius leapt on a chair and announced it was about time the dancing started. With a flick of his wand the chairs and tables vanished, leaving a vast expanse of floor space behind them; with another the lights dimmed and hundreds of tiny candles appeared, suspended in mid-air like those at the Hogwarts Halloween Feast. He jumped off the chair and pulled Victoria Smith, a friend of Lily's whom Remus had suspected for some time of feeling about Sirius the same way he did, on to the dance floor. Remus turned away and poured himself another glass of Firewhisky, looking instead across the room to where James, Peter and Frank Longbottom were leaning out of the window competing to see who could shoot the most champagne out of the end of their wands.

As he watched James spurt a fountain of champagne so fiercely it hit a house on the other side of the street and Peter acknowledge the feat with a wolf-whistle and a round of applause, Lily detached herself from her group of friends and dragged James onto the dance floor, saying 'Stop that, James, it's a waste of good wine. You can dance with me instead.' Frank and Alice soon followed suit and it wasn't long before he caught sight of Peter bouncing up and down with Elspeth Diggle of Hufflepuff. Sirius, in the middle of the dance floor, had by now wrapped his arms around Victoria Smith's waist, one hand resting just above her bottom, the other clutching a bottle of Firewhisky.

He went quickly into the kitchen in search of something to eat, but backed out again just as quickly after encountering no less than three couples locked in each other's arms.

Back in the living room, Sirius was once again stood on the chair, this time overseeing a dancing competition.

'Remus! Remus!' he bellowed as soon as he caught sight of Remus sidling back in. 'Come and join in! Here, you can partner Meryl.' He pushed a small blonde girl towards Remus.

'I'm fine, thanks, Sirius. I'll just... form an audience,' he said, and passed Meryl on to Cecil Jones, who grabbed her hands and began galloping around the room with her.

He worked his way through the throng of couples towards the window. The air was thick with heat and cigarette smoke: with so many people dancing in such a small space the temperature in the flat was almost unbearable, and even though he hadn't been anything like as energetic as most of the other party guests, his face was still damp with sweat. He conjured a pair of large fans and set them flapping above everyone's heads next to the candles in an attempt to get the air circulating.

'Thanks, Remus!' shouted Sirius once he dragged his eyes away from Victoria Smith for long enough to catch sight of them. Remus acknowledged the thanks with a nod of his head and a large gulp of Firewhisky. He was, he realised, well on his way to getting drunk, but he didn't care.

On the dance floor Peter was spinning Elspeth around with such enthusiasm their faces were just a blur. Cecil and Meryl were leading twenty or thirty couples, including James and Lily and Frank and Alice, in a lively jig. Sirius and Victoria Smith were nowhere to be seen.

He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the cool window. Celestina Warbeck's latest hit was playing so loudly that he felt the glass vibrating when he touched it. Opening his eyes again, he glanced at his watch and wondered how long it would be until the guests began to go home.

'Still not dancing, Moony?' said a voice in his ear suddenly. Remus jumped and spilled what was left of his Firewhisky onto the floor.

'I told you not to do that, Sirius,' he said.

'Sorry,' said Sirius. 'Here, hold out your glass.' He poured Remus another Firewhisky from the bottle in his hand. His face was wet and flushed red and a lighted cigarette dangled from the hand not holding the Firewhisky. 'You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say you weren't enjoying my party.' He inhaled deeply on his cigarette, blew out a stream of smoke rings and offered it to Remus.

Remus took the cigarette from Sirius rather gingerly. It wasn't the first he had smoked by any means but it certainly wasn't something he made a habit of. He put it to his lips, still damp from where Sirius had had it in his mouth. It tasted faintly of Firewhisky. He took a couple of puffs and then passed it back, his eyes watering, trying not to cough.

'Where's Victoria?' he said, once he had regained his breath.

'Gone home,' said Sirius.

'Why? Was she not enjoying your party either?' He knew it was dangerous to draw parallels between himself and Victoria, given that he was fairly certain Sirius knew exactly how she felt about him, but somehow the Firewhisky seemed to have loosened his tongue.

'No. Well, she was until she started feeling ill. Too much to drink, I think, and too much dancing. So I set up the Floo for her in my room and sent her home.'

'Oh. Poor girl.'

'She'll be fine, her mother'll look after her.' He flicked ash on to the carpet. 'Sure I can't tempt you onto the dance floor, Moony?'

Remus drained his glass of its remaining Firewhisky. 'Another time, perhaps.'

By two o'clock the next morning the only people left conscious and stood on their own feet in the living room were Sirius and Remus. Those people capable of making their own way home had Apparated outside the front door; the rest had been bundled unceremoniously into the Floo. As the last guests vanished in a burst of green flames Sirius collapsed onto the sofa, where he lay sprawled amongst heaps of discarded plates, bottles and glasses.

'It was a good party, Moony, wasn't it? Wasn't it a good party?' he murmured, throwing an arm across his face to shield his eyes from the light.

'It'll take forever to clear all this mess up tomorrow,' said Remus from where he was sat by the window, gazing round at the smashed glasses and spilled drinks covering the dance floor.

With some difficulty, and impeded by the bottle of Firewhisky he was still holding, Sirius pulled himself into a sitting position. 'What's up, Moony?'

'Nothing. I'm tired.'

'Liar. You always were a lousy liar.' He took a mouthful of Firewhisky straight from the bottle. 'D'you remember how you used to tell us your mother was ill, month after month, until we -'

'Yes, I remember.' He stood up and began wandering round the room, inspecting the scenes of devastation.

'So tell me the truth.'

'You're drunk, Sirius.' As he passed the sofa he took the bottle from Sirius and took a mouthful of Firewhisky himself. 'So'm I.'

'I meant tell me something I don't know, you idiot.' He began to giggle weakly.

Remus returned to the window and gazed down at the silent street below. Despite the vast quantities of alcohol he had drunk, he suddenly found that he was thinking very clearly.

'Do you really want the truth?' he said. His voice sounded surprisingly firm.

'Of course. 'S'what I asked for, isn't it?'

'You think it's worth it, then? Whatever - whatever might come of it, whatever might - might change, it doesn't matter because I'll have told you the truth?'

Sirius was looking straight at him now. 'Yes.'

Remus shrugged. 'So be it.' He took a deep breath, and suddenly the words that had been building up inside him for months slipped out as easily as if he had been telling Sirius the time. 'I love you. There. Now you know.'

'Oh.' Sirius's eyes widened. The bottle of Firewhisky slipped from his fingers and rolled across the floor. 'Oh.'

'I'm sorry,' said Remus, when Sirius seemed disinclined to make any further response. It occurred to him that perhaps Sirius was so drunk he had not understood what had been said. In which case it was unlikely he would remember it in the morning, and Remus couldn't help but feel that that would be for the best. He was just about to leave the room and go to bed when Sirius began to laugh.

For a moment, as he watched Sirius, his legs drawn up to his chest, tears pouring down his cheeks, rocking back and forth on the sofa, he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. Then when it dawned on him that Sirius considered his predicament a source of such amusement he shot forwards and punched him on the jaw before he realised what he was doing. Sirius stopped laughing.

'Fuck, Moony, what did you do that for?' he said in between gasps of pain, running his fingers tenderly over his face to assess the damage.

Despite the pain in his right knuckles, Remus found his fist was now clenched around his wand.

'If you ever laugh at me like that again, Sirius Black, I'll do a hell of a lot worse than punch your jaw, do you understand?'

'Oh,' said Sirius. 'You mean... you thought I was...oh. Oh.'

'And if you sit there keep saying 'Oh' like that I'll -'

'Shut up, Remus.'

And before he had chance to think about what was happening, Sirius had stood up and was kissing him: Sirius's body was pressed against his, Sirius's arms were wrapped around his waist, Sirius's hands were in his hair, on his hips, under his robes. Remus had never known anything like it.

Eventually Sirius drew back and smiled at him.

'You idiot, Moony,' he said. 'Do you really think I'd laugh at you like that?'

'I suppose not, but....' He stared at Sirius, hardly able to believe what had just happened. He could still feel the touch of Sirius's lips against his and was conscious of the fact that Sirius's hands had come to rest on his hips. 'I didn't know you....'

'Felt that way about you too? Well, you learn something new every day, don't you?'

'But... but Victoria?'

Sirius shrugged. 'We were only dancing. I did offer to dance with you.' He stared at Remus, his smile broadening into a grin. 'Why, Moony, I do believe you were jealous.'

To his intense irritation, Remus felt himself blush. 'I... well, maybe a little.'

'That's the second-best thing I've heard all day.' Sirius stepped closer to him. 'The best was you saying you loved me, of course.'

Remus smiled. He touched Sirius's jaw gently. 'I'm sorry I hit you.'

'That's all right,' Sirius murmured, his lips now brushing Remus's neck. Remus felt a shiver run down his spine at the touch. 'I'm sure I'll be able to find a way for you to make it up to me. Come on.'

Despite everything that happened in between, the memory of loving and being loved in return was so strong that even after fifteen years he was able to use it to defend James Potter's son and his friends from Dementors.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Until he stood in the Entrance Hall amidst a throng of excited students swarming towards the start of term feast, Remus did not realise how much he had missed Hogwarts. Just closing his eyes and breathing in deeply transported him back over twenty years to the time he was a nervous little boy in too-large robes scuttling along after Hagrid and Sirius Black.... Remus shook himself firmly and walked into the Great Hall, where he was welcomed warmly by several members of staff, especially Professor McGonagall and Hagrid, who shook his hand so vigorously he became seriously worried his arm would fall off, and rather less warmly by others; it was obvious that Dumbledore had told his staff the truth about his newest appointment and not all of them agreed with it. No one, however, demonstrated quite such revulsion as Severus Snape.

Remus couldn't help feeling that Snape had the advantage, having been warned in advance to expect him. Of all the people he would have liked to encounter least, Severus Snape was, if not the first, then certainly in the top five, and to have Snape's presence thrust upon him unexpectedly was a fairly unpleasant shock. His face grew hot and he felt the mixture of dislike, guilt and anger that had been his reaction to thoughts of Snape ever since he had nearly killed him in the Shrieking Shack. No, ever since Sirius had nearly killed him.

In an attempt to act like the civilised adult he was meant to be nowadays he inclined his head in Snape's direction and forced the corners of his mouth into a smile. He was irritated but not particularly surprised when Snape gave this greeting no acknowledgement at all and continued to stare at him with such a fierce hatred that he could feel it from the other end of the table. It didn't do a lot for his appetite.

It was rather a strange feeling sitting at the staff table as one of the teachers instead of being tucked away amongst the other Gryffindors. He couldn't help notice that many students were glancing up at him and then whispering to their friends, and was conscious of the fact that his own best robes didn't come anywhere near the standards of the other staff members'. Though from what he had heard they seemed to have had a remarkable amount of trouble holding on to Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers. Perhaps he would have attracted notice anyway. Surprisingly, he was not nervous at the prospect of teaching classes. He could remember his own days at Hogwarts well enough to imagine the challenges he might encounter, and couldn't help suspecting he might be rather good at teaching if he was only given the chance.

Harry did not enter the Great Hall until the Sorting was over. Now that Remus saw him properly, his face illuminated by the light of a thousand floating candles, he felt a jolt somewhere in his chest; for a moment it was as though James himself had walked in and sat down at the Gryffindor table. He was relieved to see that Harry was a much healthier colour than he had been on the train. He ran his eyes over Harry's friends, trying to place them. The red-haired ones around him were Weasleys without a doubt, he wasn't sure about the other girl but the round-faced boy was so like poor Alice Pritchard it was instantly clear who he was.

After the feast was over a house-elf showed him first to his office and then to his bedroom, where his trunk was waiting for him to unpack it. Both rooms were large and comfortably appointed. His bedroom was decorated with pictures of witches and wizards enjoying relaxing activities: picnicking in the countryside, sailing on the lake alongside the Giant Squid and the like. The four-poster bed had red drapes just like the one he had slept in for seven years in the Gryffindor boys' dormitory.

'You has everything you wants, Professor Lupin, sir?' The house-elf's voice dragged him back to the present.

'Er - yes, yes, thank you,' he said. He thought it would be a while before he got used to being addressed as Professor Lupin.

The house-elf bowed low. 'Professor Dumbledore has asked that you meet him in his office in half an hour. Goodnight, sir,' it said, and vanished with a crack.

*

Neither Dumbledore's office nor its occupant had altered much since Remus last saw them. Dumbledore's hair was a few shades whiter, his beard a few inches longer, his face a little more creased, but his eyes were the same piercing blue and he radiated the same air of powerful calm. In the corner Fawkes was snoozing in his cage, his head under his wing. He kept his eyes averted from Phineas Nigellus and instead looked straight at Dumbledore, who had risen to his feet as he entered.

'Good evening, Remus,' he said, holding out his hand for Remus to shake. 'Please sit down.' He sat, facing Dumbledore over the top of his desk. 'Would you like something to drink?'

'Oh - no, no thank you.' Never once in all the times he had faced Dumbledore across this desk had he been offered refreshment. It was another reminder of the way his status at Hogwarts had changed.

Dumbledore looked at Remus over the top of his glasses. 'I'm glad to see you back at Hogwarts,' he said. 'Are you glad to be back?'

He hadn't expected that, but you never did know what Dumbledore was going to come out with. 'I - I don't know,' he said honestly. Dumbledore nodded.

'You will have seen, of course, that the Ministry have not yet managed to recapture Sirius Black,' he said, after a pause.

'Yes.' Out of the corner of his eye he saw Phineas Nigellus stir at the sound of his great-great-grandson's name. He looked down at Dumbledore's desk. 'Headmaster, do you think - do you think he'll be coming after Harry?'

Dumbledore sighed. 'Yes, I think he will. That is why I have allowed the Dementors to guard the school. It was not a decision I made lightly.'

'No, I don't suppose it was.' He shivered. His most recent brush with the Dementors, however brief, had brought to mind many memories he would rather forget.

'Though I hear they have allowed you to practice your Defence Against the Dark Arts skills already.' Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at him. He smiled. 'Assisting Harry Potter, indeed.'

Was there anything the man didn't know? 'Yes, I - er, well, it was just lucky I was there, I suppose.' He swallowed. 'He looks - he looks like James. I didn't know....'

'Yes, it is a remarkable likeness. But he has his mother's eyes.'

'I know.' He was a silent a moment, and then, suddenly, 'Have they treated him well, Lily's sister and her family?'

'No, Remus, I am afraid they have not.'

'Oh.' Poor Harry, what kind of a life must he have had? Remus wished fiercely that he had made more of an effort to take care of him after his parents died. Under the circumstances it was unlikely he could have had sole care of him, but they could surely have come to some arrangement. 'You know I would have -'

'I know you would. You were not the only one. But that was the way it had to be.'

'I see,' he said, although he didn't. It didn't bear thinking about, Harry left to the tender mercies of Lily's sister - who had, the only time he had met her, a few months before he left Hogwarts, stared at him for a few minutes as though she thought he might bite her and then ignored him altogether, as though in the hope he might go away - and her husband, whom he had fortunately never met, but whom he had gathered from Lily was even worse, if that was possible; denied the love of his parents, who had adored him, and lacking a proper wizarding upbringing. And all thanks to Sirius Black. 'Professor, was there - was there anything I could have done, to make things different?'

'I don't know, Remus,' Dumbledore replied. 'I wish I could say no, but I don't know.' He smiled at Remus again, this time rather sadly. 'Please believe me when I say I have asked myself that question many times over the last twelve years.'

Remus blinked. He would like to have replied to Dumbledore, but for a moment his throat was too tight for him to speak. Dumbledore gazed tactfully up at the ceiling.

'And now, Remus,' he said, when Remus was once again looking at him rather than at his robes, 'you will want to know the arrangements I have made for the full moon.'

'Yes, of course. Is the passage to the Shrieking Shack still open? I'm sure I could - '

.

'Oh no, I have a much better plan than that. Have you heard of the Wolfsbane potion?'

Remus was temporarily struck dumb. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined the Wolfsbane potion being Dumbledore's solution. Ever since it had been formulated he had imagined the day he would have enough Galleons to pay for it, and now he was being offered it for nothing.

Dumbledore looked amused at the sight of his shocked face. 'I thought you would prefer that.'

'Of course I would. Thank you so much, Professor.' A thought struck him. 'But who will brew it? I couldn't possibly -'

'Severus Snape has kindly agreed to brew the potion for you each month,' said Dumbledore mildly. 'He is without doubt our most skilled potion maker.'

This time, not only was he struck dumb, he felt his mouth drop open and knew he was staring at Dumbledore like a fool. 'Snape agreed to do that - for me?' he said in disbelief once he finally found his voice.

'Yes.'

'Oh,' he said. He wasn't sure what else to say. 'That's, um, that's very generous of him. I appreciate it.' He couldn't even begin to imagine the kind of favour Snape must owe Dumbledore if he'd been talked into this.

'As painful as it must be for me to rake over past events, I believe Severus felt he would be more - secure, if you took the Wolfsbane potion.'

Remus felt himself blush to the roots of his hair. All of a sudden he was sixteen years old again, bruised and bleeding, with the full enormity of what he had almost done just dawning on him. 'Professor, I would never - I wouldn't - I didn't know!' It burst out of him just as fiercely as it had the first time.

'I know you didn't.' He rose to his feet. The meeting was at an end. 'And Remus, try not to feel so much guilt over what is past. We have all done foolish things when we were young and in love.'

Back in his room, he wandered outside onto the little balcony he had discovered next to the wardrobe. It was a clear night and, resting his arms on the rails, he gazed up at the stars. Somewhere up above, millions of miles away, was Sirius, the Dog Star, and somewhere out there, possibly not so very far from him, was Sirius Black. It was a strange thought. Where was he? What was he doing? And how likely was it they would come face to face before the Ministry recaptured him?

He groaned, and buried his face in his hands. It was all very well for Dumbledore to tell him not to feel guilty, but there were so many things he could have done differently. If only he hadn't forgiven Sirius for the incident with Snape. Severus Snape was many things, few of them pleasant, but he hadn't deserved that.

He raised his face to the stars once more. All of a sudden he felt very tired. 'I loved you, Sirius, for what it's worth,' he said. 'Did you know that? Did you care?' And on that final - and rather melodramatic, he had to admit, even in his misery - note, he went back into his room and went to bed.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

James had taken it rather well, all things considered. His eyes had widened, his mouth had fallen open and he had dropped the plate of food he had been holding, but once he had cleared up the mess he had made and spent five minutes in the kitchen replacing the sandwiches he had ruined he was able to shake both Sirius and Remus by the hand and tell them that if they were happy then he was happy too. Lily, who had assisted him in the replacement of the sandwiches, smiled and nodded approvingly as he did this.

'Though I had no bloody idea anything like this was on the cards,' he said accusingly. 'What about you, Wormtail, mate? Did you know?'

'No,' said Peter, staring from Remus to Sirius and back again. 'No, I had no idea, but like you say, if they're happy then - '

'Because Lily says she wasn't that surprised! Can you believe it?' he continued.

Both James and Peter turned to gape at Lily with as much amazement as that with which they had been gaping at Remus and Sirius a few minutes previously. It was clear James did not know which to find most shocking: that two of his best friends had announced they were in love with each other or that his girlfriend professed to have seen it coming for weeks.

'How did you know?' demanded Sirius of Lily. 'I didn't know myself till the other night, how can you have known all this time?'

Lily couldn't help laughing at the sight of the four astounded faces looking at her. 'It's a girl thing, Sirius, you wouldn't understand.'

'Wait, so you mean the other girls will know?' put in Remus. 'Mary and Alice and Meryl and - and Victoria Smith, and -'

'I doubt it,' said Lily. 'They don't spend as much time with you lot as I do.'

'Which is entirely their loss,' said Sirius.

'I doubt they'd see it that way.'

''Course they would.' He turned to Peter. 'All we need now is for you to get fixed up with a girl and then that's all of us sorted.' He beamed round at the group. 'What about Elspeth Diggle, Wormtail? She's OK and you seemed to get on alright with her at my party.' He grinned suggestively at Peter.

Peter turned red and choked on a mouthful of Butterbeer. 'Maybe - I don't know - I hadn't thought...' he said, once Sirius had banged him on the back and he was breathing normally again.

'Why don't you ask her to go for a drink at the Leaky Cauldron?'

'Well - well, I don't know, I couldn't - '

'Why not?'

'Sirius! Shut up!' Peter looked gratefully at Lily for her interjection. For a moment there was silence, and then -

'I can't believe you weren't as surprised as I was, Lily. How the bloody hell could you possibly have known?'

Later, much, much later, when they were lying in bed and he was already more than half asleep, Sirius murmured 'Prongs took it very well, didn't he?'

'Mmm?'

'Sorry, did I wake you up?'

'Sirius...you're tickling my ear....'

He felt Sirius move his head an inch or two along the pillow. 'I was a bit worried, in case he thought - well, I don't know.'

This was such a surprising admission that Remus twisted himself around - a difficult task, given that he was trapped under both the sheet and Sirius's arm - to face him. 'Why would he think anything like that? He's your best friend and, anyway, if he'd carry on being friends with me after finding out that I'm a werewolf, I don't think anything else would worry him.'

'I know, it's just...anyway, he didn't.' He started laughing. 'Him and Evans were funny, though, the way he was so shocked and she wasn't - mind, I don't understand that either.'

'Well, you're not a girl, are you?'

'No. You know, Moony, it's just as well I fell in love with you, really. I mean, Evans is alright, practically one of us I suppose, but we might not be so lucky another time.'

Remus was silent, considering this; it was something that had never crossed his mind. He had never asked Sirius how he felt about James's relationship with Lily.

'Moony?'

Sirius's voice interrupted him just as he was about to fall asleep once more.

'What?'

'What do you think's going to happen?'

'To whom?'

Sirius sighed. 'To... all of us. You must have seen it in the paper, Dark Lords and - and Death Eaters, and - I don't know, but I can't help thinking it's going to get worse before it gets better.'

'I suppose I'd been trying not to think about it.'

Even with his eyes closed he could tell Sirius was smiling. 'That's just like you, Moony.' His hand came to rest on Remus's hip. 'But whatever happens, I still love you.'

His face was buried in the pillow and Sirius's words were blurring together. 'I know,' he mumbled. He was vaguely aware that this hadn't come out as clearly as he had intended. For a moment he was conscious of Sirius laughing softly, and then he was asleep.

*

In September 1978, two months after he left Hogwarts, Remus, along with Sirius, James, Peter and Lily, attended his first meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. He really didn't know what to expect, but whatever it was it certainly hadn't been Dumbledore striding up and down the front platform, his purple cloak flying, describing to their full extents the depths to which Voldemort had plummeted and how much further he would be prepared to go to achieve true pureblood domination.

'The fight to overcome Voldemort will not be easy,' he said in conclusion. 'It may take years, it may take decades. Some of us may not survive it. But I truly believe that we cannot live in a just and peaceful world whilst Voldemort is still a threat. Each and every one of us will have his part to play in bringing about his downfall. So I ask you now, will you fight with me?'

'Yes!' The cry rang out and echoed round the room. Remus had never before heard such a noise, not even the summer when Gryffindor had won the House Cup for the fifth year running. In that moment he would have promised Dumbledore anything if only it would lead to Voldemort's defeat.

Looking back, that was the moment he realised he had finally left his childhood behind.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

It was, perhaps, unsurprising that Severus Snape was not happy on hearing of Neville Longbottom's Boggart. He cornered Remus in the staff room the day it happened, his eyes blazing, his face whiter than ever. Clearly the story was already all over the school.

'What do you think you are playing at, Lupin?' he said.

'I am merely doing my job, Severus.' He didn't see the point pretending not to know what he meant; it would only aggravate him further.

'And you think doing your job involves making a fool of your colleagues? It's clear no one has employed you for a long time.'

Remus flushed. 'At least I don't think doing my job involves terrorising my students.'

For a minute he thought Snape was going to pull out his wand and hex him. 'Don't think I don't know what you're up to.' Snape's voice, always quieter than usual when he was angry, was so low that despite being stood right next to him Remus had to strain to hear what he was saying.

'I was under the impression I was teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts.'

'You're the one they need defending against, a Dark creature like you. I haven't forgotten the way you nearly killed me.'

Remus looked down at the floor. 'If it's any consolation, neither have I.'

'I wouldn't trust you as far as I could blast you with my wand.'

'Severus -'

'You or your friend Black.'

Remus looked up at him sharply. 'I assure you he is no friend of mine.'

'Oh, but he was once, wasn't he? Very close, the two of you, weren't you? Unnaturally close, you could say.'

Remus felt his fingers clench around his own wand. 'I don't think that's any of your business, do you, Severus?'

'It could be.'

He closed his eyes and sighed. 'What do you mean?'

'You know what I mean, Lupin. Don't think I'm not keeping my eye on you.' With that he spun on his heel and stalked out, his robes billowing behind him.

Remus poured himself a cup of tea and sank gratefully into the nearest chair. He wasn't entirely sure what Snape had meant to imply with his parting shot, but he was fairly certain that whatever it was, it wouldn't mean anything good.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

James Potter and Lily Evans were married on a sunny Saturday at the beginning of April 1979, in the field behind the cottage they had just bought in Godric's Hollow. Luckily for all present, the rain that had plagued them intermittently all week had vanished without trace by the time the sun rose on the day of the wedding.

*

Remus looked at his watch for the third time in as many minutes. If Sirius did not arrive in the next thirty seconds then the wedding proceedings were going to be severely delayed. He and Peter, sporting brand-new dress robes and carnations in their button holes, courtesy of Sirius ('Oh, come on, Moony, Prongs is getting married, he's only going to do it once, we have to look our best. And besides, just think what my mother would say if she knew I was spending Black family money on my best friend's wedding to a Muggleborn witch,' had been his response to Remus's protestations at the extravagance) had escorted all the guests to their seats, set out in rows along the field, and were now sat in their own chairs behind Mrs Evans and Mr and Mrs Potter. Lily and her father, along with Mary Macdonald and Alice Pritchard, her bridesmaids, were stood with their faces pressed against the back window of the cottage, waiting for the moment when Sirius would arrive and the wedding could begin. As for James, he was stood at the edge of the field, alternatively running his hands through his hair or shredding the flowers that had been tied in great bunches to the gate.

From the ever-increasing buzz of conversation all around him he could tell he was not the only one who had noticed that Sirius was holding up the start of the wedding.

'This is a bit unusual, it's more often the bride you're waiting for, not the best man,' he had just heard one Potter second cousin murmur to another.

Peter nudged him in the ribs. 'Did you know Padfoot was going to be this late?' he whispered.

'No, I didn't,' he replied.

'Because, I mean... it's not the first thing he's been late for recently, is it? There was the Order meeting last week, and then when we were all going to try on our robes he was -'

'I'm sure he'll be here.' He resisted the urge to look at his watch yet again. Peter had a point. Sirius had disappeared mysteriously several times lately, and whenever Remus had asked him where he had been he had said only 'Tell you later' or 'You'll see soon enough' or some other equally irritating response. He took a deep breath and gritted his teeth fiercely. If Sirius had to go missing he could at least try not to do it just before his best friend's wedding.

Behind him, one of the Potter second cousins said 'Do you suppose he's run off with the chief bridesmaid already?'

The other cousin laughed. Remus was tempted to turn round and smack her. 'If he has he's jumping the gun a bit, he should at least -'

She stopped speaking as all of a sudden a violent throbbing noise filled the air. Several people shrieked, and as Remus looked behind him he saw that both Potter second cousins had their faces screwed up and their hands pressed firmly over their ears.

He raised his eyes to the sky. For a moment he thought some kind of Muggle flying machine had broken through the protective spells surrounding them and was about to crash right in the middle of all the guests, but even before he could dismiss this thought as ridiculous the largest motorbike he had ever seen dropped to the ground and made a triumphant circuit of the field, finally screeching to a halt inches away from James.

Sirius leapt off the bike, adjusted his dress robes and grinned round at the assembled wedding guests, whose jaws had dropped collectively at the sight of him.

'Sorry everyone, were you all waiting for me?'

'Bloody hell, Sirius, if I wasn't so glad to see you I swear I'd hex you so hard you wouldn't come round for a week. Now get up this aisle, you bastard.'

*

Later, once the ceremony was over and the food had been eaten and James and Lily had taken the floor for their first dance as husband and wife, Sirius took Remus to admire his flying motorbike.

'So, this is what you've been working on the last few weeks, is it?' he said, running his hand along the bike's seat.

'Yeah. Well, you know I always fancied a motorbike - remember how I used to buy the Muggle magazines? And they had the pictures of girls, too, remember, Moony? I thought my mother was going to have a heart attack the first time she saw them.' He sighed happily. 'So when I saw one advertised, I thought... well, why not?'

Remus laughed. 'It's brilliant, Sirius, absolutely great.'

'I know, isn't it? I thought it would be a bit of a change from flying a broomstick - or a Thestral.'

'That's true. Why didn't you tell me?'

'I wanted to see your face when you saw me land on that field.' They were so close that he could feel Sirius's lips brushing against his cheek as he spoke. He closed his eyes.

'And was it worth it?' Sirius's hands slipped under his robes. He gasped.

'Yes.'

*

It had been less than nine months since Sirius's NEWT results celebration, but Remus couldn't believe the difference in atmosphere at James and Lily's wedding party. Oh, on the face of it everyone was having a good time, singing, dancing, laughing, toasting the happy couple with as much champagne as they could drink, but beneath it all there was a faint undercurrent of unease. Wherever he went in the crowd he heard whispered half-sentences about Voldemort: what was he planning, where was he now, was it true that he was behind this, that or the other mysterious and unpleasant occurrence.

He pushed his way through a crowd of yet more Potter cousins, trying to ignore the snatches of conversation he caught about the likelihood of Voldemort forcibly taking over as Minster of Magic, picked up a bottle of champagne from where it was hovering over by the band and joined Sirius and Peter, who had found a table near the dance floor. No sooner had he sat down than James and Lily appeared, arms wrapped around each other's waists. James gestured Lily grandly into a chair.

'Please sit down, Mrs Potter,' he said. She giggled and pulled him down next to her. With a hand that was surprisingly steady, given the amount he had already drunk, he directed Remus's champagne bottle to refill everyone's glass, and then took up his own and gulped half of it down in one go. Even Sirius, who had had a good deal to drink himself, looked shocked.

'Steady on, James, mate, you don't want to drink it all before midnight, do you?' he said.

'Thirsty work, dancing with my wife, isn't it?' He dragged his eyes away from Lily's face to stare at Sirius. 'Haven't seen much of you on the dance floor yet, Sirius, why on earth not?'

'I was waiting for Remus. He owes me a dance.'

'From when?'

Sirius grinned. 'The last time we had a party. Don't you, Remus?'

'I suppose so,' said Remus.

'And why haven't you asked Elspeth Diggle for a dance, Peter?' Sirius continued.

'Oh, Sirius, not that again....'

Peter ignored Remus's interruption. 'I thought about it, actually,' he said, looking not at Sirius but instead down at his thumb, which he was running round and round the rim of his glass. 'I went over to ask her, but she and her friends were talking about - about stuff they'd read in the Daily Prophet, and I didn't want to hear any more about You-Know-Who, so I... I came away.'

Peter looked so miserable Remus couldn't help feeling sorry for him. He could understand entirely a reluctance to overhear tales of Voldemort's doings.

Sirius, it seemed, did not share that understanding. 'No, we don't know who,' he said fiercely.

Peter opened and closed his mouth several times, as if willing himself to form the word, but couldn't quite manage.

'If you mean Voldemort, why don't you say so?' Sirius persisted. 'Dumbledore does.'

Peter shrank into the back of his chair, still opening and closing his mouth. All three of the others were now staring from Sirius to Peter and back again, not quite sure what was coming next.

'I - I know, but....' He took a deep breath, and said, very quickly, 'Do you think there's going to be a war?'

For a moment no one answered.

'I don't know,' said Remus eventually. 'Dumbledore sounds pretty serious at Order meetings, doesn't he?' There was a rather subdued murmur of agreement from James and Lily. Sirius was silent.

'Because,' continued Peter, picking up his drinks mat and twisting it around in his fingers, 'well, doesn't it worry you, that we might, you know... die?' The drinks mat squealed as he began to tear it in two and he dropped it hastily.

There was silence whilst everyone digested this thought.

'I know it might be dangerous,' said Remus, 'but we have to trust Dumbledore. Whichever side he's on is where I'll be.'

'I wasn't thinking about sides, of course I trust Dumbledore! It's just that -'

'That's the way it has to be!' Sirius shouted this so loudly and suddenly that all the people at the next table turned to look at them. 'Sorry, Peter,' he continued in a much lower voice, 'but some things - some things are so foul and evil and - and just plain wrong that you just have to fight them. I don't want to die any more than you do, but if that's what it takes to defeat Voldemort and his pureblood mania then that's what I'll do!'

All four of them stared at him, their eyes wide, their mouths hanging open. Remus was the first to regain his composure.

'What's wrong, Sirius?'

'Nothing.'

'I don't believe you.'

He gripped his glass so hard his knuckles turned white. After a moment he said bitterly, 'Do you not see the way people look at me at Order meetings when they hear my name? They don't know anything about me but they've heard of my family and think I'll be like them. No doubt thinking I'm just there to pick up information and pass it on to Voldemort.'

'I....' Remus was not sure what to say. He thought it entirely possible that Sirius was right and one or two people at least were inclined to think of his family's reputation whenever they thought of him, and he knew better than most just how unpleasant that must be. 'I don't suppose most people think that, and - and those that do aren't really worth bothering with, are they?' It was not much of a response, but it was the best he could come up with after well over a bottle of champagne.

'Remus is right,' said James suddenly. 'And he ought to know what he's talking about, him and his furry little problem.'

Cecil Jones, passing by their table on his way to the dance floor, caught the last part of this and said 'Bloody hell, has Lupin still not got that rabbit sorted out?' He looked surprised and rather offended when all five of them began laughing hysterically.

'Sorry, Remus, I never thought of that,' said Sirius at last, wiping tears off his cheeks.

'Well, let that be a lesson to you,' said James, gesturing feebly towards Sirius with an empty champagne bottle. 'And you.' This was directed at Peter. 'And now, if you don't mind, can we talk about something a little less serious? It is my wedding party, after all.'

*

When the party was over, and James had picked up Lily and staggered drunkenly with her in his arms all the way down the path from the field and into the cottage, to the amusement and applause of all those still present and sober enough to witness it, and the sky was streaked with pink and red and gold, Remus and Sirius went home on Sirius's motorbike.

Remus never forgot his first journey on the flying motorbike. As they left the ground and shot upwards he felt the wind whistling past him, rushing through his hair, making his eyes water. It was so exhilarating to be charging through the air at a hundred miles an hour, sat behind Sirius, his arms wrapped around Sirius's waist, his chin resting on Sirius's shoulder, that he threw back his head and laughed.

'You like it, Moony?' he heard Sirius shout.

'Yes!' he cried.

And when they had reached the wood near Sirius's flat where he had been keeping the bike all this time, when Sirius had disguised it as the stump of a tree so it would be safe from prying eyes, and when Sirius had pushed him to the ground and made love to him more fiercely than he had ever done before, he knew he would never look at a motorbike the same way ever again.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Remus was in his office feeding the Grindylow when Dumbledore's Patronus arrived.

'Sirius Black has entered the castle. All teachers to report to the staff room immediately in order to organise a search.' With that, it flew out of the window and dissolved into the darkness.

He stood where he was for a full thirty seconds, his hand still poised over the Grindylow's cage, his heart racing the way it had the day he first saw Sirius's face in the newspaper. It had happened. Sirius was here, in the castle. Harry was in danger.... Remus snatched up his wand and his cloak and ran for the staff room as fast as he could.

He stood in a corner trying to catch his breath whilst Dumbledore gave out the instructions.

'Each of you must take a separate area of the castle or grounds and search it for any signs of Black. If you find him, he must be taken back to the Ministry alive, but please, do not endanger your own life or those of your colleagues. I do not need to remind you how dangerous he is. All students will spend the night in the Great Hall under the charge of the Prefects.' He ran his eyes over the assembled staff members and nodded once. 'Good luck.'

As they left the staff room and began to spread around the castle, Snape, stood at Dumbledore's right side, caught Remus's eye and gave him a very suspicious look. Remus ignored him and headed for the portion of the third-floor corridor that had been allocated to him.

The lights had been turned as bright as they would go so there was no chance Sirius could hide himself in a dark corner. Even so, he jumped and spun around, wand in hand, whenever he caught sight of a movement out of the corner of his eye. All he saw, though, were little figures scurrying from one portrait to another, looking for Sirius just as hard as he was and whispering details of what had happened to the Fat Lady, or the occasional ghost gliding by, who would shake his head mournfully and say 'No sign of Black yet, Professor Lupin.'

He turned a corner and continued along the corridor, his wand held out in front of him, his eyes continually running over the walls, the ceiling, the floor, in search of a sign that Sirius was there or had passed this way, but there was nothing.

What would he say to Sirius, if he found him? All of a sudden, now that Sirius was possibly only feet from him, this seemed terribly important.

Why? That was what he would ask: Why did you do it, Sirius? Why did you turn your back on everything we thought you stood for? What was it you saw in Voldemort to betray your best friend for him?

If he did find Sirius, would he have the chance to ask him this? He did not doubt for one moment that Sirius would kill him, the way he had killed James and Peter. And yet he was not afraid. How could he be, when Harry Potter, thirteen years old, could fear Dementors above Lord Voldemort? He had been rather impressed by that admission of Harry's. Clearly he took after his father in more than just looks. James had not been afraid....

As he approached a flight of stairs they shifted aside so that he could check beneath them. He conjured a light and flashed it into the darkest corners but there was nothing. The stairs creaked back into position and he carried on along his way.

But somehow, he couldn't help feeling that however hard they searched they would never find Sirius. He wouldn't go to all this trouble of escaping from Azkaban and hiding from the Dementors without making sure he could achieve his aim and not get handed straight back to the Ministry - would he? He'd gone with them willingly enough when his first attempt had failed, from all accounts.

If he escaped them this time, would he try again? Surely he would know that after the castle had been penetrated once Dumbledore would do everything in his power to ensure it never happened again, so once Dumbledore found out -

He stopped so suddenly he almost fell into the wall, which had crept towards him without him noticing it. How was Sirius getting into the castle? He couldn't Apparate, or use a broomstick and anyway, even if he did get close enough to use some kind of spell he would be caught by the Dementors surrounding the walls. In fact, Remus realised, his stomach twisting itself into an uncomfortable knot, there was only one way Sirius could have got into the castle. The same way he had got out so many times when he was a student: through one of the secret passages from Hogsmeade, in Animagus form.

He forced himself to think through the implications of this. If Sirius was indeed getting into the castle through a secret passage - and Remus could think of no other way he was doing it - then he was the only one who could know about it and he must therefore go and tell Dumbledore right away so that arrangements could be made for the entrances and exits to be watched. He raised his wand to conjure a Patronus to send the message... and then lowered it again as he imagined the look on Dumbledore's face when he told him the truth. He could not possibly claim knowledge of the secret passages without confessing to the creation of the Marauder's Map and James, Sirius and Peter having mastered the Animagus transformation.

The day after the Shrieking Shack incident, Dumbledore had called Sirius into his office after he had seen Remus. As he had left and Sirius had entered, he had glanced over his shoulder and seen Dumbledore looking at Sirius with such anger and disgust that he had become a quivering wreck within seconds. Remus had never forgotten it. He could not bear the thought that anything he might do would cause Dumbledore to look upon him in the same way.

But if he didn't tell the truth, students were in danger, Harry most of all. How could he live with himself if Harry was killed in an attempt to bring Voldemort back to power? How would he feel if the attempt succeeded and Voldemort was once again at large?

Thinking of Voldemort, another idea occurred to him that made him weak with relief. As a Death Eater and member of Voldemort's inner circle Sirius had no doubt learned Dark magic he couldn't even imagine. Was it not likely that there was something he had been taught that would enable him to break the enchantments on Hogwarts?

And besides, would it really be such a good idea to tell Dumbledore the whole truth? After all, he had once bared his soul to Sirius Black, and he couldn't help but think, all things considered, that he would have been better off keeping quiet and going to bed that night.

He was stood in the middle of the corridor still fighting it out with himself when Professor Flitwick came up behind him.

'Any luck, Remus?' he asked. Remus jumped.

'Er - no, I'm afraid not,' he replied. Flitwick sighed.

'I think it is the same for all our colleagues.' He set off in the direction of the Great Hall. Remus followed him.

'How do you think he's getting in? Do you think it's possible he used spells he's learned from Voldemort - oh, sorry, Professor,' as Flitwick squeaked and almost fell.

'Filius, please. We are both Professors now, are we not?' he said, once he had regained his breath. 'As to the Dark spells, I must confess I don't know. There are no charms I know that could break down the protections surrounding Hogwarts without the knowledge and consent of the ones who cast them, but we do not know the extent of Dark magic You-Know-Who developed before his downfall. I would have thought it unlikely myself, but is there any other alternative?'

Remus was not particularly reassured by this.

Dumbledore was stood outside the Great Hall waiting for them. 'Any sign of him?' he said, his voice low, as they approached.

'Nothing,' said Professor Flitwick.

He looked enquiringly at Remus, who felt his face grow hot. He took a breath and opened his mouth. Now was the moment to do it, to tell Dumbledore to watch the secret passages and keep an eye out for a large black dog.

'No, no sign at all,' he said.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Neither Sirius's mother nor his father ever really recovered from losing one son to Voldemort and the other to the fight against everything they stood for. Whilst she descended further and further into madness he slipped out of life far more quietly than he had ever lived it in the late summer of 1979.

It was not until autumn had set in and a new Hogwarts year had begun that Remus knew any of this.

In the twelve months that had passed since his first Order meeting, war, as Peter had feared, had become less a possibility and more a reality. The rumours of odd disappearances, attacks on Muggles and infiltration of the Ministry grew with every week that passed, and with them an increase in work for the Order of the Phoenix.

The night they found out about his father it was Sirius's turn to assist Alastor Moody, the head of the Auror Office, and Moody's trusted staff in surveillance of known and suspected Death Eaters. Sirius was due to leave at seven.

Remus, who had been lying on the sofa reading with growing apprehension an article in the Evening Prophet about the Ministry's latest anti-werewolf legislation, turned the page in an attempt to get away from it and found himself face to face with Sirius's father. He read the article underneath the picture and looked across the room at Sirius, collecting his things together ready for leaving. He read the article again.

'Sirius,' he said.

Sirius, halfway through fastening his cloak, turned and looked at him. 'What?'

'Sirius... come here.'

'What is it?'

He held the paper out for Sirius to see. 'Look.'

Sirius took it from him. There was a sharp intake of breath as he saw his father's picture, but when Remus looked up Sirius's face was hidden behind the newspaper. He waited, but Sirius said nothing. Remus heard the sheets rustle as they crumpled under Sirius's grasp.

'Sirius?' There was no response. He tried again. 'You... didn't know?'

Very slowly, Sirius lowered the paper and turned his head to stare at him. There was a look on his face Remus had never seen before, and wasn't sure he wanted to see again.

'No. I didn't know,' he said.

'I'm sorry, I didn't...' He started to push himself off the sofa to go to Sirius, but almost before his feet touched the floor there was a pop and Sirius was gone.

*

It was four hours before the front door slammed so violently the entire flat seemed to shake and Sirius re-entered the living room.

'Where the hell have you been?' Remus shot up from where he had been crouching by the fire and shook Sirius by the shoulders. Sirius pushed him away, not particularly gently.

'Out,' he said. He was very, very drunk.

'Out? You've been out? Sirius, I have had half the fucking Auror Office in here looking for you because you were supposed to be on surveillance at seven o'clock, none of us had any idea where you were, and now you finally come home, so drunk you can barely stand up, and you tell me you were out? Bloody hell, anything could have -'

'Shut up!' He threw himself into a chair, his hands pressed over his ears, his face distorted as if in pain, and began rocking back and forth. 'Shut up! Just shut up!' His voice grew louder and shriller with each cry.

Remus stared at him in silence for a minute. He took several deep breaths and waited until his heart rate had subsided and his hands had stopped shaking. Then he sat down in the chair next to Sirius's and said, quietly and with a certain amount of effort, 'I'm sorry I shouted like that. I'd been... worried about you. I didn't mean to upset you.'

Sirius didn't reply, but he had stopped screaming and rocking. Remus took this as a sign that he was listening. All of a sudden, now that he had more of Sirius's attention, he wasn't sure what to say.

'Sirius, I... have you... I mean, that is....' He sighed and tried again. 'Your father, Sirius, were you... was it something to do with... him?'

For a moment, nothing. Then Sirius nodded.

'I'm sorry.' He wasn't sure what he was sorry for, but the words came out without him thinking about them. He reached out a hand to Sirius. It hovered for a moment over Sirius's arm and then fell back onto his lap. 'Sirius, why didn't you tell me where you were going? I would've come with you, if you wanted. Or - or if you wanted to be on your own, I could've sorted things with Moody. Or if not, I'd just want to... be there for you.' It sounded trite even as he said it.

Sirius didn't respond. He was completely still now and staring straight ahead, not looking at Remus at all.

'Do you want to talk about it?'

Nothing. Not even the flicker of an eyelid. Remus felt himself beginning to lose his temper again.

'Sirius, please, talk to me. I don't know what's wrong with you. I mean, it's not as if you... you didn't - well, I mean, you - '

'Hated my father?'

He had been silent for so long Remus jumped at the sound of his voice. Sirius turned to face him, his eyes daring him to say it.

'Yes.'

'You don't understand, how can you? Your father wasn't like mine. Whatever you did, he loved you for it. You were his son, not an extension of his family tree.' Sirius, still no longer, had leaped up from his chair and was pacing the floor, clasping and unclasping his hands. He had not yet removed his cloak and it whipped out behind him each time he spun on his heels and set off in the opposite direction. Watching him, Remus couldn't help but think of his own father, tired and grey and old before his time. He had died just before he began his sixth year at Hogwarts, exhausted after a decade labouring under a guilt Remus had never fully understood, trying anything he could think of to cure his son.

'Sirius...' He could only whisper it.

'The whole reason I want to fight this war is to show my father and the rest of the scum that call themselves my relations that I was right and they were wrong, that the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black doesn't stand for anything and the whole concept of pureblood supremacy is bollocks.' He wiped his face with the back of his hand. 'And he's my father and he's dead and I had to read about it in the bloody fucking newspaper....'

'Sirius....'

'Just - just go to bed, or something, will you, Moony? Please? I just want to....'

With a sigh, Remus rose and moved towards the door. As he crossed the threshold he looked round at Sirius, stood in the middle of the room, his face buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking. He paused for a moment, and then he turned and very quietly walked along the hall and went to bed.

That was the first night since the NEWT party he had slept alone in Sirius's flat.

*

Three days before Christmas Voldemort and his Death Eaters attacked the Order of the Phoenix in the middle of their final meeting of the year. They were taken completely by surprise. Alastor Moody had brought them all up to date with the current suspected whereabouts of Igor Karkaroff and Evan Rosier and was beginning his customary lecture on the subject of constant vigilance when the wall behind him crumbled and thirty or forty masked figures burst into the room.

Afterwards, Remus remembered very little of his first real battle. In years to come, even when he tried deliberately to bring it to mind to block other, more dreadful memories, he could think only of screams and flashes of light and the thud of bodies falling to the floor or into a wall. Occasionally, when he really forced himself to relive it, he remembered little things. The heat, despite the cold air coming in through the gap where the wall had been, that made sweat trickle into his eyes and down the side of his nose and the way he had ached to wipe his face with the sleeve of his robes but resisted in case he lost concentration and sent a spell off course. The metallic tang of blood in his mouth when he stumbled over a body - whose, he had no idea - and bit his tongue. Rodolphus Lestrange, unconscious, his left leg sticking out at an odd angle, after Sirius had duelled him with such intensity he had felt it from the other side of the room. And Voldemort himself, single-handedly fighting James, Lily and Frank Longbottom and almost beginning to retreat. The rest was a blur.

The first really clear memory he had was of Moody, his face and hands covered in blood, holding out a goblet full of some kind of green potion.

'Here, drink this,' he said. Remus took the goblet from him. His hands were shaking so much he needed both of them to guide the goblet to his mouth. As he drank the potion he felt things begin to slip back into focus. He realised that his left shoulder and both his knees were throbbing with pain and that his robes were torn and spattered with blood.

He handed the goblet back to Moody. 'Wh - what happened?'

'We're not sure yet. Are you all right?'

Remus nodded. 'Is - I mean - the others, is everyone....'

'Everyone's still alive, if that's what you mean. One or two have had to go to St Mungo's, but we hope they'll be all right.' He moved on to the next person.

Remus glanced around for a chair to sit on but, seeing none, collapsed onto the floor and tried to spot his friends through the debris the Death Eaters had left behind them. James and Lily were not far away, she curled on the floor with her legs drawn up to her chest, he crouched above her, clearly trying to comfort her. Peter was leaning against a wall, still clutching his wand. Even from across the room Remus could see his body trembling. And Sirius... for a moment he could not catch sight of Sirius. He felt his stomach lurch in panic: what if Sirius was one of those who had had to go to St Mungo's? Moody had mentioned no names.

He heaved himself off the floor and frantically scanned the room for Sirius. There was no sign of him. His heart began thumping uncomfortably in his chest. Where was he? He would be all right, wouldn't he? Moody had said that everyone would be fine....

He was shuffling towards Moody as fast as his aching knees would let him when Sirius appeared in front of him and flung himself upon him.

'Oh God, Remus, you're all right, you're all right,' he mumbled, his face pressed into Remus's shoulder. Despite the pain, he wrapped his arms around Sirius and pulled him even closer.

'Yes, I'm fine,' he said. His voice shook, far more than it had when he was talking to Moody. 'Are you?'

'Yes.'

'The others?'

'I think so.' Sirius lifted his head and looked at Remus. He had a black eye and his face was smeared with dirt as well as blood.

Remus ran his thumb gently along Sirius's cheekbone. 'Your eye... what happened?'

'Rodolphus Lestrange.'

'Oh.'

'Forget about him. He's not a pleasant thought.' Sirius pulled Remus's hand away from his cheek and clasped it in his own. 'Dumbledore's worried about this, you know.'

'What do you mean?' He looked over to where Dumbledore and Moody were deep in conversation. Dumbledore did look worried, but that, to Remus's mind, was entirely understandable.

'Voldemort shouldn't have known where to find us today.'

It took a moment for him to realise fully the implications of what Sirius had said. 'You mean....'

'That's what Dumbledore thinks.'

His eyes met Sirius's. For the first time that day, Sirius looked truly afraid.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The best Christmas present that Remus received the year he taught at Hogwarts was being able to wake up once the full moon was over with the knowledge that even though he had missed the day itself he would not have to spend the rest of the holiday recovering from the injuries he would normally have inflicted upon himself during transformation. So grateful was he for this present, in fact, that he felt distinctly guilty for laughing as hard as he did when he heard of the hat that came out of Severus Snape's cracker.

Without a doubt the worst present was Harry's Firebolt. Not only was it a sign that the danger to Harry was as real as ever, it meant Sirius was still able to somehow access the castle. In the absence of any other possible solution Remus couldn't help believe that this involved his Animagus form. It was becoming clearer than ever that he should confess the knowledge to Dumbledore, but, much as he despised himself for it, he could never quite pluck up enough courage.

Minerva McGonagall had brought the broom to him in the staff room a few days after Christmas.

'What do you think, Remus?' She held it out for him to inspect. He took it off her and examined it carefully. It was such a clever thing for Sirius to have done. No boy alive who received such a present would be able to resist taking it down to the Quidditch pitch and trying it out immediately. As he clasped the handle he felt it tingle under his fingers, and for a moment he wished he could try it out himself.

He pushed it back towards McGonagall. 'There's nothing obviously wrong with it, but then I don't suppose there would be. You'll have to examine it more closely for signs of tampering, I would have thought.'

'So you think - I am sorry to have to ask you this, but your opinion will be valuable - that it would be like Sirius Black, to send Harry this broom?'

'Yes, I do.'

He went over to the window that looked out towards the Quidditch pitch. He could see nothing other than his own reflection in the glass, but when he closed his eyes he saw James and Sirius on the pitch with their own brooms. Himself and Peter, clutching Gryffindor scarves and banners, screaming in support. The look on Sirius's face when James had taken the Snitch from the very tips of Regulus Black's fingers.

He opened his eyes again and stared out past his reflection into the darkness. It didn't make sense. None of it made sense. He sighed. It had never made sense. He had given up trying to understand it long ago. All he could do at this stage was try and live with the consequences.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

By the time Harry was born, James and Lily had been in hiding for three months. Neither of them had liked the idea, but Dumbledore had been insistent - so insistent that they had had no choice but to go along with his plans.

Remus was not entirely sure why Dumbledore was being so firm about it; Dumbledore did not always explain the reasons behind his actions. He couldn't help wondering if it was something to do with the spy. Although no one ever came out and said so directly, they all knew that over the past few months Voldemort had repeatedly demonstrated knowledge he could not possibly be expected to have got from anything other than the Order of the Phoenix. The only logical conclusion they could draw from this, therefore, was that someone was passing information to him.

It was not a comfortable thought. Time and again Remus sat in an Order meeting looking around at his fellow members wondering which one of them it could be. Try as he might he could imagine no credible motive for anyone. Alastor Moody, the head of the Auror Office? Elphias Doge, who had known Dumbledore since they had been at Hogwarts? It was laughable. But one of them must be doing it.

Sometimes he would try to discuss it with Sirius, to see if Sirius could think of anything that would absolve the Order from suspicion. It would depend on his mood whether Sirius participated in these discussions or not.

More and more often nowadays he spent the nights he was not needed for surveillance alone, with Sirius either away on Order business or asleep in the spare room. The first few times he had done this he had told Remus it was for his own good, that he did not wish to disturb his sleep if he arrived home in the early hours of the morning, but it was not long before he stopped referring to it. As he lay awake on the nights he was alone, curled into a ball so he could not feel how cold it was on Sirius's side of the bed, he would go over the names of all the Order members again and again, racking his brains for a reason one of them would become a spy for Voldemort in an attempt to stop himself thinking about what had gone wrong between him and Sirius. Perhaps it came to every relationship eventually. But why now, why like this? No matter how hard he tried, he could think of no answers to any of it.

*

The day that Harry was born began better than some. Sirius came out of the spare room as Remus was halfway through breakfast and, for the first time in months, apologised for it.

'I knew we'd be trailing that bastard Wilkes for hours and I didn't want to wake you up, seeing as you were out all the night before,' he said as he sat down at the table opposite Remus.

'Don't worry about it,' said Remus, folding up the newspaper and dropping it on the floor. 'Would you like something to eat?'

'Thanks.' Sirius took the piece of toast Remus offered him and poured himself a cup of coffee. There was a silence.

'Did it go well last night?' Remus asked.

'I think so. Moody seemed pleased when we reported back to him.'

'That's good.'

'Mmm.' Sirius crumbled the crusts of his toast beneath his fingers.

Remus tried again. 'Alice had a baby boy yesterday; Frank sent an owl not long ago. Didn't say where they are at the minute or anything, but they've named him Neville.'

'Oh, really?'

'Wonder if we'll hear anything from Prongs today. Lily was convinced she'd have her baby before Alice.'

'There's still three days before it's due.'

'Oh.'

'Would you pass me the paper, please? I should probably see if they've got hold of any of this stuff with Wilkes.'

Remus handed Sirius the paper. He vanished behind it immediately and did not even look up when Remus sent his plate, his cup and his knife to land with a clatter in the sink and walked out of the room.

*

It was almost lunchtime when James arrived. He banged on the front door with the force of ten men and in his enthusiasm became all tangled up in trying to remove his Invisibility Cloak, so that when Remus opened the door to him he saw only James's head and an assortment of his limbs.

'Remus!' shouted James, as soon as he was standing in the hall. 'Sirius! I have a son!'

Remus paused in the act of untangling James from his cloak and shook the hand he could see very vigorously.

'Congratulations, James! I'm so pleased for you!'

The noise brought Sirius into the hall, several sheets of paper clutched in one hand.

'Sirius! It's a boy!' yelled Remus, his anger at Sirius temporarily forgotten.

'Congratulations!' Sirius dropped the papers and threw himself on James. Several of his own limbs vanished beneath the cloak.

'He looks just like me, he's got my hair and my chin and everything! Apart from his eyes - they're going to be just like Lily's, you can tell. And he's about this long and this wide and his fingers are so tiny....' His face was lit up with excitement and he gabbled his words so quickly Remus struggled to understand. It was an entirely different James stood before him than the one who had arrived just after Christmas white and shaking with the knowledge that he was going to become a father before his twenty-first birthday and his child would be born into a world from which Voldemort had not yet been vanquished. 'Moony - why are you still standing there? Aren't you going to come and see him?'

Within minutes the three of them, plus Peter, were racing up the stairs of James and Lily's cottage and into their bedroom, where Lily lay in bed holding the smallest baby Remus had ever seen. All four came to a stop in the doorway. Lily started laughing at the sight of their faces.

'It's all right, you can come in,' she said. 'Come and look at him. Isn't he beautiful?'

They gathered around the bed and stared down at the baby. His face was bright red, and whilst he did indeed have a tuft of black hair just like James, whether his eyes would be like Lily's could not be seen as they were screwed tight shut.

'What are you going to call him?' asked Sirius.

'Harry. Harry James, after me and my dad.' James sat down on the bed next to Lily and laid his hand on the baby's head. 'Sirius, will you - will you be his godfather? We want to have the christening soon, though with everything that's going on it'll only be quiet.'

'No party, then?' said Sirius, with a faint smile at Remus. He felt his heart twist inside him. Was it really only two years since Sirius's party? Two years since the first time he had kissed Sirius, and now some days they barely spoke to each other and James Potter had become a father.

'I don't think so,' said James sadly. 'Not much chance of us doing anything with Voldemort still on our tails.' He got up off the bed and started to pace around the room. 'Bloody hell, I'll be glad when Dumbledore gets his hands on that sodding spy and I can take my son out of this house.'

*

For a while after Harry was born things improved a little. None of the five had any experience with a small baby, so it was a source of fascination to them all watching Harry grow and develop. Remus and Sirius were brought temporarily closer together in their desire to spend time with him, spending more time than they had for months talking to each other about the things they had done with him and what he might do next.

It didn't last, though. Before Harry was more than a few weeks old their relationship had deteriorated to such a state that Remus finally realised he would have to do something about it.

He chose his time carefully. One evening in September, after a day spent with James, Lily and Harry, during which, Sirius affirmed, Harry had waved his hands and smiled every time he caught sight of either one of them, he interrupted Sirius halfway through a discussion of when Harry might be likely to start crawling and walking and told him he thought it was about time they had a talk about their relationship.

Sirius just stared at him. 'What do you mean?' he said eventually.

Remus threw the book he was holding onto the floor. 'For God's sake, Sirius, what the hell do you think I mean? I mean the fact that we hardly ever talk to each other without sounding like we're making polite conversation. I mean that you're out more time than you're in, whether on Order work or not I don't know, because you never bother to tell me where you're going. I mean that you seem to have moved permanently into the spare room. That's what I mean.'

Sirius slammed his cup onto the table so hard that coffee flew everywhere. 'Listen to yourself! Just listen to yourself, Remus! There's a war on, if you hadn't noticed. We've got far more important things to do than worry about where we're sleeping or what we're talking about. Don't you think it's about time you learned to cope with that, instead of bleating about 'relationships' all the time?' He stood up so suddenly his chair toppled over.

Remus sat absolutely still, looking from Sirius to the fallen chair, his hands gripping the edge of the table so hard they ached. He opened his mouth to make a cutting response to this, but was spared from having to come up with one by Sirius saying 'Oh, don't bother. I'm going out.' A few seconds later the front door slammed behind him.

*

There was no one point at which he could say he began to suspect Sirius of being Voldemort's spy, no particular incident that stood out in his mind as the defining piece of evidence. It was more a culmination of events over the summer and autumn of 1980, a slow recognition that Sirius's absences were becoming more and more frequent and his subsequent explanations not always truthful; that Moody's reports of Death Eater movements often coincided with Sirius's; that of all the members of the Order of the Phoenix Sirius, with his family's background, would have the best opportunities for passing information to the Death Eaters.

Sirius's protestations nagged at him, of course; he hadn't forgotten the way Sirius had shouted at Peter at the wedding. It was not a realisation he accepted easily. But the fact was that he did have the connections: there was his father, and his mother, and his brother....

It was the war, of course. The bloody stupid war against Voldemort that had you looking over your shoulder at every turn, not knowing whom you could trust and who was under the effects of Polyjuice Potion or the Imperius Curse or otherwise in Voldemort's employ. It was the war that led him to analyse every word Sirius spoke, every move he made, and twist it into not the normal, everyday kind of betrayal but the worst kind there was: a betrayal not only of his lover but of himself and his friends and everything he had once claimed to believe in.

The one thing he was certain of, though, was that it began after his futile attempt to make Sirius talk to him.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

There was something in the way Harry approached the problem of producing a Patronus that reminded Remus of James approaching the problem of the Animagus transformation. Whilst it had been Sirius's idea initially it was James's imagination that had been captured by the concept of turning into another creature at will, James who had spent hours searching the library whilst Sirius or Remus did his homework for him, James who had suffered countless mishaps in the process and become discouraged over his inability to succeed but picked himself up and started again. And it was James, one summer night out in the grounds when they should have been in bed, who had been the first to transform completely.

As he watched Harry struggle against the Boggart, frustration written all over his face, he wished he could tell him how like James he was. It would be a source of encouragement to Harry, but he knew he could never do it, not whilst it would lead to awkward questions about the role Sirius had played in it all.

Sometimes he would catch Harry glancing at him out of the corner of his eye as though he were on the point of asking a question about his father or mother, but after the first time he never mentioned them. It seemed, though, that since he had begun to teach Harry the Patronus Charm and told him about his friendship with James they had become closer; not, perhaps, as close as they could have been if things had been different and he had been able to spend more time with Harry as he grew up, but close enough for him to feel he had begun to repay James for leaving his son an orphan. After all, if he had spoken out about his suspicions of Sirius, who knew but that James and Lily might have survived?

*

Tying the belt of his dressing gown tightly around his waist as he entered the staff room the night of Sirius's second break-in, he felt the same slightly surreal atmosphere there had been at Halloween. The nightmarishly bright lights, the mutterings and whispers of the portraits as he moved from corridor to corridor, the ominous squeaks and groans as parts of the castle that had been in position for over a thousand years were thrust aside all increased the growing apprehension amongst everyone in the castle that however thorough their search would be it would have as little success as the first attempt.

Dumbledore, his purple dressing gown crooked as though he had flung it round his shoulders in a terrible hurry, looked dreadfully concerned as he gave brief, hurried instructions. As he described Harry's narrow escape Remus felt his stomach churn. How could he possibly stand here and keep quiet when he had a good idea just how Sirius was managing it? But then, how could he possibly confess to Dumbledore now, after he had known all along....

All he could do was search the castle as hard as he could to find Sirius and bring him to justice - or to the Dementors. He shivered at the thought. Whilst he couldn't blame Harry for wanting to see Sirius suffer after everything he had gone through, for himself he felt slightly sick imagining Sirius undergoing the Dementors' Kiss. Of all of them Sirius had always been the one who was most truly alive, and to think of him without his soul, worse than dead, was horrible.

But was Harry not right? Did he not deserve it, for what he had done? When you thought of what he heard fighting the Dementors.... What must they have felt, James and Lily, the night Voldemort arrived at their house and they realised their best friend had betrayed them?

*

They didn't find him, of course. Dumbledore called off the search at four in the morning and sent them all off to bed to get a few hours' sleep before breakfast - after which, he said, he would be organising the tightening of security on the school. He looked around at them all as he wished them good night. To his utter shame, Remus found he could not raise his head and look him in the eye as Dumbledore laid a hand briefly on his shoulder on his way out of the door.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

He moved out of Sirius's flat in the spring of 1981. Sometimes he wondered how he had managed to remain so long before he left - or before Sirius threw him out - but the fact of the matter was that he had nowhere else to go. He had no money, and no job, and no prospect of finding one with the Daily Prophetreporting more and more werewolf attacks, each month's nastier than the last.

So for a few months the endless sleepless nights, lying in bed with the same arguments racing around his head - that Sirius would never betray James and Dumbledore, that he constantly lied about where he was and what he was doing, that he hated all things Dark thanks to his family, that he had never been the same since his father's death and who was to say he hadn't made contact with some of his surviving relatives and been sucked back in - were a small price to pay for a roof over his head. But still, he worried constantly that Sirius, or someone else, would guess what he was thinking and - then what? He had heard enough descriptions of the ways Voldemort and his Death Eaters tortured and killed their victims at Order meetings to hope devoutly he would never have to suffer them himself.

*

He had been so caught up with analysing Sirius's whereabouts and whom he might be with on the numerous occasions he was not at home that it never occurred to him to think that Sirius might be doing the same thing. So when he arrived home past midnight for the third evening in a row, utterly exhausted and wanting nothing other than to sleep for at least twelve hours, and found Sirius sitting in the living room with a cup of coffee in his hand and a rather odd look on his face, he walked straight past him with every intention of ignoring him and going to bed. It came as rather a shock, therefore, when Sirius spoke.

'Where have you been?'

Remus, his arm reaching out to the handle of the bedroom door, turned round to look at him. 'What?'

'I said, where have you been?' There was something in the way Sirius was looking at him that made him wonder if Sirius suspected him of not speaking the truth. He felt a surge of annoyance even as he remembered that he suspected Sirius of far worse.

'I've been out. Working for the Order. Nice to know you care. Now if you don't mind, I'm exhausted and I'm going to bed.'

'Who else was there?'

'Who else - Sirius, what is this?' A little band of fear had begun to uncurl somewhere in the region of his stomach. Why did Sirius want to know so badly? He remembered hearing that Voldemort could work the Cruciatus Curse unlike any other wizard alive and make you feel pain in parts of your body you didn't know existed. 'There was me, Frank, Sturgis Podmore and Moody.'

'I see.' Apparently satisfied, Sirius sat back in his chair and took a mouthful of coffee. Remus was torn between the desire to knock the cup out of his hands and jump on it and the wish to run as fast and as far as he could.

'You see?' Despite his best efforts, he heard his voice shake. 'What do you see, Sirius?'

'Nothing at all. If you say you were with Frank, Podmore and Moody, why then of course you were.'

For a moment he could do nothing more than gape stupidly at Sirius.

'What?' he shouted when he finally regained the power of speech. 'You think I - that I'm lying to you? You of all people, you have the audacity to sit there and doubt what I'm saying when you - when you - when you...'

Sirius looked at him sharply. 'When I what?'

He nearly said it. For a second the temptation to open his mouth and say it was almost too great. In years to come he would reflect on how different things could have been and wish with all his heart that he had. But he thought of how Voldemort was supposed to be capturing werewolves for his own ends and the uses to which he put them once they were under his control, and he said merely, 'Fuck this, I'm going,' before walking into the bedroom and locking the door behind him.

Throughout the entire ten minutes it took him to pile his belongings into the shabby trunk he had taken to Hogwarts he could hear Sirius shouting and banging on the door, but he ignored him. Finally he took up his broom from a corner of the wardrobe and made his exit through the window.

He spent the rest of that night in a Muggle bus shelter somewhere on the outskirts of London, but by that stage he didn't care.

*

Three days after Harry's first birthday, he went to see James and Lily, partly to give Harry a birthday gift and partly because James and Lily had by that time been lying low for so long that they welcomed visits from anybody. And besides, if he was there long enough, chances were that he would be offered the first decent meal he had had in over a week.

When James answered the door to him, he was carrying a screaming, red-faced Harry on his hip.

'Sssh, Harry, ssh, look who's come to see us!' he said, jiggling Harry gently up and down and making him cry even louder. 'Bloody hell, Moony, am I glad to see you. Come in.'

'Everything - er, all right, is it?' he said over Harry's howls as he followed James down the hall and into the living room.

'Great. Just great. Can't remember the last time I saw anyone other than you, Peter or Bathilda bloody Bagshot, Harry's been crying on and off all day and to top it all Dumbledore's run off with my Invisibility Cloak so we've not actually set foot outside for over a week. Oh yes, life's just wonderful.'

Remus was spared from having to reply by the entrance of Lily from the kitchen.

'Have you not managed to stop him crying yet, James?' she said. 'Give him to me. And if you want to make yourself useful you can repair some of the things he's broken with that damned broomstick of Sirius's - oh God, I'm sorry, Remus, I didn't see you there. How are you? Please, sit down, can I get you a drink or something?' As she spoke she settled Harry in the corner of the sofa and sent a stream of brightly coloured bubbles shooting out of the end of her wand just in front of him, which distracted him long enough to stop him crying.

Remus sat down on the sofa opposite Harry. 'I'm fine, thanks, Lily, but I'd love a cup of tea if that's not a problem.'

'Of course not.' She returned to the kitchen.

'I'm sorry, is this a bad time?' he said to James once she had gone.

'No, believe me, we're glad of the company. It's just... we've been cooped up here for so long, and lately Dumbledore seems to think we're in more danger than ever, so we can't even... at least when I had the Invisibility Cloak one of us could go and get some fresh air for a hour whilst the other looked after Harry, but now... this isn't how I imagined fighting a war against Voldemort, you know?'

'I don't suppose any of us knew what to expect, did we?' He paused. 'Does Dumbledore - has he told you - why it is that you're in such danger?'

He felt his heart beating faster as he waited for James to reply, but James only ran his hands through his hair, groaned and said 'Not really. You know what he's like, never explains anything unless he has to.'

'Yes, I know... what was the - the broomstick Lily mentioned?'

James shuffled from one foot to the other uncomfortably. 'Nothing. Just a - a present Harry got for his birthday, that's all.'

'From Sirius?' he said, and then, when James turned red and looked at the floor, 'Oh come on, James, I know he's still your friend, there's no need to pretend he isn't.'

'I know, it's just....' He was so embarrassed Remus could tell it had never crossed his mind even once that the danger might be from Sirius himself. He wondered what James would say if he tried to imply that. 'Here, look.'

James brought a tiny broomstick out of a cupboard and held it up for Remus to see. When Harry caught sight of it he batted aside the last of Lily's bubbles and laughed, clapping his hands and pointing at the broom.

'He loves it. Watch this.' James positioned the broom so that it hovered a foot or so above the ground and placed Harry on top of it. He floated forwards slowly, James's hands holding him steady. James beamed down at him proudly. 'He'll be a great Quidditch player one day, just you wait and see!'

Just as they had completed one circuit of the room, the door to the hall opened and through it came Whiskers, the Potters' cat. When Harry and the broomstick flew above him with less than an inch to spare, he jumped so hard all four paws left the floor at once and shot through the kitchen door with a yowl. It was unfortunate that he did this at the exact same moment Lily entered bearing a tray of tea and cakes. It was even more unfortunate that he and Lily became entangled in the doorway and, whilst Lily remained on her feet, the tray and its contents fell to the ground with a resounding crash and a spray of tea that seemed to reach all four corners of the room at once.

'Look what you've done now, you fool!' Lily shouted at James. 'I told you to put that away and keep him calm for a bit, but could you do that? Oh no, that's too much like hard work, isn't it?'

'I'm sorry, I just thought it'd keep him happy.' He took out his wand and cleared up the mess from the fallen tray.

'Well, you thought wrong, didn't you?'

Remus stood up as unobtrusively as he could. 'Er - perhaps I ought to -'

Neither of them paid him any attention.

'For God's sake, Lily, it's just a bit of spilled tea! I've cleaned it up for you! I'll make another pot! What more do you want?'

'Well, you could try thinking about me, for a start!' She turned and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Remus could hear her sobbing all the way up the stairs. Harry, back on the sofa now the broom had been removed, began to howl in unison.

James wrenched the door open and went out into the hall. 'Now see what you've done!' he bellowed after her.

Remus picked Harry up and began to stroll round the room with him, shooting bubbles out of the end of his own wand and making silly faces at him in an attempt to make him laugh.

When James reappeared he collapsed into a chair and put his head in his hands. 'Was I in the wrong, Moony?' he said after a moment's silence.

'Well, not really,' said Remus tactfully. 'But neither was Lily. It's just - oh, I don't know, being stuck in here, I suppose. It can't be easy for either of you.'

'Too bloody right it can't.' He sighed. 'I suppose I ought to go and apologise then.'

Ten minutes later Lily reappeared downstairs, her face red and puffy but her hand clutching James's.

'Oh, Remus, I'm so sorry we're behaving like this when you've come to visit us,' she said, sitting down and taking Harry on her knee.

'Don't worry about it,' he replied. 'Oh - here. I bought Harry a birthday present. It's not much, but....'

He handed Lily the package he had brought for Harry. She opened it to reveal a small teddy bear.

'It's only a Muggle one, it doesn't do anything exciting, but I thought he might like....' He couldn't help looking over at Sirius's broom.

'It's lovely, Remus, thank you,' said Lily. She passed the bear to Harry, who immediately began to suck one of its ears. 'Are you - are you living near Muggle shops then?'

'I'm working in one,' he said shortly. 'Muggles are less likely than wizards to make connections between time off and full moons, and I need the money.'

'Oh, Remus.' Her eyes had begun to fill with tears again. 'You know you can always....'

'I'm fine, Lily, honestly. You've quite enough to worry about at the minute without adding me to your problems.'

'All right. If you're sure.' She smiled at him, though he could tell he hadn't convinced her. 'It was really kind of you to think of Harry.'

There was a pause. Remus watched Harry chew his way around the edge of the teddy bear. He looked up just in time to see James and Lily glancing at each other.

'What?'

'Nothing,' said James and Lily simultaneously. He didn't say anything.

After a moment, Lily said 'We just wondered if - if you'd spoken to Sirius lately, that's all.'

'No.'

'Oh, well, like I said, we were just wondering....' She wrestled the bear off Harry and laid it, damp and soggy, on a table. Harry screwed up his face and opened his mouth, clearly about to start screaming again. 'Sssh, ssh!' she said hurriedly, and gave him the bear back.

'I haven't.' He watched her looking down at her son, biting her lip and pushing a lock of hair behind her ear, and immediately felt guilty. 'Sorry, I didn't mean to... I just don't want to talk about it, OK?'

'Of course. We understand.'

Do you? he wanted to shout. Don't you realise that whilst Sirius might be buying your son expensive toys with one hand, with the other he's doing his bloody best to betray the lot of you to Voldemort? But he couldn't do it, couldn't bear to watch Lily's face crumple with shock and fear and disbelief as she imagined the dangers her husband's best friend posed to her family. And that was if they believed him... what if, after all that had happened between Sirius and himself, they thought he was lying, to hurt Sirius? He couldn't risk such a disagreement with any of the few friends he still had. So he kept silent, turned the conversation to Harry and Bathilda Bagshot's most recent visit and once again carried his burden alone.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

'I suppose you thought it was funny to see that parchment of Potter's hurl abuse at me.'

Remus spun around to face Severus Snape. He had been so engrossed in staring down at the map on his desk that he had not heard the knock or the creak as his office door opened.

'Not particularly.' He met Snape's eye. Snape scowled at him. He kept his own face resolutely calm.

'Don't tell me, this is another joke you and Potter have cooked up between you to make me look a fool.'

He jumped. Funny how one sentence could take you back over fifteen years in an instant - though that time it was Sirius at whom Snape had been glaring with such dislike, whilst he himself had been a more-or-less innocent bystander, and the joke in question had involved a set of Quidditch balls bewitched to fly around Snape's head and dodge away whenever he tried to make a grab for them. Detention had followed, of course; what was far worse, for James at least, was that Lily Evans had refused to speak to any of them for over a week.

'Er - no, I assure you it isn't,' he said.

'I don't believe you.'

Remus closed his eyes, took a deep breath and counted down from ten. 'Well, that's your choice,' he said, when he had finished, 'but that's the truth. I have no idea how Harry -'

'In fact,' Snape continued, as though Remus had said nothing, 'I wouldn't be surprised if you and Potter weren't the only ones in on this. I wouldn't be surprised if your old friend Black knew all about this - this method of communication too.'

It took a minute for Remus to work out what he was implying, and then his mouth dropped open. 'You don't mean - Severus, you can't seriously think....'

'Can't I? This is what I've been telling Dumbledore all along - who better to be helping Black than you? A Dark wizard and a Dark creature... there isn't much to choose between you.'

Remus wasn't sure which part of that statement made him angriest. It took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to pick up his wand and hex Snape into the middle of next week.

'Get out,' he said, when he finally found his voice. 'Get out of my office. Now.'

Snape got out.

Almost as soon as the door had closed behind him Remus realised what a foolish thing he had just done. A nice situation they would be in when Snape refused to brew the Wolfsbane for him any more. He collapsed into the chair behind his desk and gazed down at the map again. It was a few moments before his eyes adjusted to the mass of dots in front of him, but it didn't take him long to see that 'Severus Snape' was heading back to the dungeons. Even his ink figure seemed to be stamping along in a towering temper.

He couldn't, he supposed, entirely blame Harry for wanting to investigate Hogsmeade when he found the map - and where did he find it from, anyway? If he'd stolen it off Filch he'd still be serving detention now - not when all his friends were going and he was left at school, but hadn't he thought?

But then, James hadn't thought, had he? Not once he and Sirius had realised the potential for troublemaking that came with mastering the Animagus transformation. They had never stopped to think, whilst they had scoured Hogwarts and the surrounding area for information that would help them create their map, of what might happen at the full moon.

He really shouldn't be so surprised that even now, so many years after its creation, it could still find a selection of insults for Severus Snape. It wasn't like James and Sirius not to do the job properly.

With a sigh, he cleared the map, rolled it into a tube and put it in the top drawer of his desk. It had caused enough trouble for one night.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

He wasn't there the third time that James and Lily escaped Voldemort. Nobody was. Dumbledore had told them to leave Godric's Hollow and move away, north and east up into the mountains of Cumbria, whilst he led Voldemort a trail south down into France. But it hadn't worked. Even though those who had known of the plan were few - Remus himself had been told some of it by James in a secret late-night meeting as he delivered supplies to the Potters before they left and had guessed the rest from Dumbledore's oblique explanations - one of those who did had betrayed it to Voldemort. Remus was sure he knew exactly which one of them it was. He couldn't imagine James vanishing hundreds of miles up the country without mentioning it to his best friend.

Nor was he there the day they returned, bruised and bleeding but thankfully not gravely injured, when Dumbledore told them that the time had come for serious action, the danger to them was too great, and suggested that he perform the Fidelius Charm. He wasn't there to see James offer Sirius as Secret Keeper, to hear Dumbledore volunteer himself for the role, or to watch James, vociferous in Sirius's defence to the last, declare that Sirius would die before he led his best friend and his family to their deaths.

He didn't know what he would have said or done if he had been there, but by the time he was told all the details, it was too late. The spell had been cast.

*

On Saturday, 5^th November, 1981, Remus Apparated into a field somewhere north of Manchester and south of Carlisle. He had concentrated all his thoughts on the land once owned by his Muggle grandparents because they were the ones who had given him the inspiration for what he was about to do.

As a child, before he went to Hogwarts, he had often stayed here with his grandparents, and it was then, in the half-hour after his bath and before he was taken upstairs to bed, that he had sat by the fire with his grandmother and listened to her tell him tales of Muggle history. She was a wonderful storyteller, his grandmother, and her descriptions of kings and queens and battles caught his imagination just as much as the accounts of his wizarding ancestors he heard from his father.

It was on one of these visits, not long after he had been bitten, that she told him about Guy Fawkes.

Mounds of fallen leaves crunched under his feet as he circled the field and finally chose a spot in the middle, so as to avoid damage to the hedges and trees around the edge. He laid down the sack he carried. With a flick of his wand and a cry of 'Incendio!' a great bonfire sprung into being, a mass of flames red and orange and gold against the darkness that crackled and sparked and danced before him.

After she had told him the story, how Fawkes and his friends had wanted to blow up the Muggle Ministry with something called gunpowder because they didn't like the laws the Minister made, and how Muggles nowadays celebrated the Ministry being saved by lighting fires and having fireworks, she had taken him to the local bonfire. For years, every time he saw Dumbledore's phoenix he remembered that night, the joy of being able to run around with a sparkler in one hand and a toffee apple in the other, playing with a group of little boys who had never heard of werewolves and thought wizards were found only between the covers of storybooks.

With both hands he reached for the sack on the ground at his feet. Holding it by the neck he began to remove its contents one item at a time and fling them on to the fire in front of him. He watched them curl and shrivel as the flames took hold of them until eventually, though he couldn't see it, all that was left was a little pile of ash right in the heart of the fire. Letters, photographs, gifts: anything that he had received from Sirius or that reminded him of Sirius was condemned to the flames.

Clutching his grandmother's hand, his lips and chin sticky with melted toffee, he had gazed transfixed as the sky above him exploded in a thousand different colours and shapes. Now when he raised his head he saw only the stars.

Years ago, at Hogwarts, Sirius would enliven Professor Sinistra's Astronomy classes by pointing out those members of his family that were to be found in the skies above Hogwarts and follow this by describing the numerous unpleasant ways in which they had lived up to the motto of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. He would always end this by announcing that at least whatever he did, his descendents would never have any tales so terrible to tell of him. The day the news had come that his mother had blasted him off the family tapestry, the four of them had led a party the likes of which Gryffindor Tower had not seen in years. Remus had always suspected that underneath it all Sirius's feelings towards his family were more complicated than he made out. He had just never imagined that they would take the direction they had.

The last thing to come out of the sack was the set of dress robes Sirius had bought him for James's wedding. He threw them on the fire with a viciousness he had not shown to any other item, and as he watched them burn he opened his mouth and shouted aloud. No words: there were none he could think of to express the way he felt at that moment. Just a stream of sound that came from his lips and rolled across the field to vanish into the darkness. It was barely eighteen months since he had worn those robes. He would have wondered how a life could possibly change so much in eighteen months if he hadn't learned at the age of six that it could change in seconds in a rush of teeth and claws and fur.

He had believed for over a year that Sirius had switched allegiance to Voldemort and become a Death Eater, and yet when the news came that James, Lily and Peter were dead at his hands he had found suddenly that his legs refused to hold him up and he had had to sit down, trembling from head to toe. Despite all that had happened between him and Sirius, despite the utter lack of any other solution that explained all the facts there had still been a tiny part of him that trusted in the bond between Sirius and James, that still believed Sirius would die himself before he let Voldemort get to James and Lily. But he had been wrong.

When the robes had vanished and he had destroyed all evidence that for ten years of his life he had known and cared for Sirius Black, he removed the fire as swiftly as he had brought it into being, picked up his now-empty sack and had one last look at the sky, where he could spot several members of Sirius's family. Although Sirius himself wasn't visible, Remus knew he was up there somewhere. And that, he decided, as he blew away the heap of ash that was all that was left of his time with Sirius, was where he would stay.

With this in mind, he spun on his heel and Apparated back to London to begin the next part of his life on his own.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Thursday, sixth of June. The last exam was over. Remus ambled across the courtyard on the way back to his office after examining the second-year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his head and the back of his neck and breathing in the unmistakeable smell of summer at Hogwarts. His mind ran idly over the tests he had just observed. They were another good class, the second-year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs; they'd be more than ready to tackle the various Dark Creatures he'd have for them in third year. The Boggart had been a good place to start, but perhaps after that he'd move straight on to Kappas and then -

A shadow fell across his path. A voice spoke close by his ear. 'Good afternoon, Remus.'

'Good afternoon, Minerva,' he replied. It had been months before he felt comfortable addressing Professor McGonagall by her first name, but now he did it without a second thought.

'You've been giving an exam, have you?' she asked.

'Yes, that was my last one, the second-year Ravenclaws and -' He trailed off as he saw the look on her face. Visions of Sirius entering the castle yet again, of him finally succeeding in his quest to destroy Harry flashed before him. 'Minerva, is something wrong, has - has -'

'No, no, not that.' His shoulders sagged in relief. 'It's Hagrid, and Buckbeak, that's all. They lost the appeal.'

'No!'

'It's a terrible shame; neither Hagrid nor the Hippogriff meant any harm.' She sighed. 'I had hoped Hermione Granger would uncover something that would let them off - Hagrid did tell me she has been undertaking research into similar cases to help his defence, you know - because if anyone could have found it, it would have been her. But it does not seem to have been enough.'

'Poor Hagrid. Is he very upset?'

'I'm afraid so.' She shook her head sorrowfully, and moved off in the direction of two first-year students who had just caused a third to fall in the lake. Remus was left standing at the edge of the courtyard wishing devoutly he could pick Draco Malfoy up and shake him until his teeth rattled. He was an unpleasant boy if ever there was one, a disagreeable mixture of Malfoy arrogance from his father and Black snobbery from his mother, a true product of his forebears and the environment in which he had been brought up. Even Sirius had embraced the Black creed in the end....

Despite the sun, he shivered. He attempted to return his mind to the present. Hagrid would be devastated at the execution of his Hippogriff. Perhaps he should go down and keep him company whilst it was happening.

He had almost reached his office when he realised that Harry, Ron and Hermione would be doing exactly the same thing.

*

After dinner, he returned to the office and removed the Marauder's Map from the drawer in his desk. As he had expected, it wasn't very long before 'Harry Potter', 'Ronald Weasley' and 'Hermione Granger' scuttled across the Entrance Hall and headed in the direction of Hagrid's cabin. He watched them carefully all the way there, but their way was clear and they were quite safe.

It was twenty minutes before he saw them reappear and begin to make their way back up to the castle. But now - but now...

Harry, Ron and Hermione had been joined by a fourth dot labelled Peter Pettigrew.

The map blurred before him, and he heard a strange kind of ringing sound in his ears. It was several seconds before he was able to lift his hands from his desk and rub his eyes, and several more before he held the map, trembling like a leaf in the wind, right in front of his eyes. There must be something wrong. The map must have broken, or maybe he was losing his eyesight; all those years of transforming into a werewolf every month had taken its toll on his vision - or his mind.... It couldn't say 'Peter Pettigrew', because Peter was dead; Sirius had killed him in front of all those Muggles, and if Peter wasn't dead then Sirius hadn't killed him after all and that meant... what?

He looked at the map again. Peter was marked as clearly as he had ever been. And as he watched he saw yet another dot, 'Sirius Black', barrelling towards them; he saw that Sirius had collided with Harry and Peter was moving away and then somehow Sirius had hold of both Ron and Peter and was dragging them towards the Whomping Willow....

He didn't wait to see any more. He didn't let himself stop and think about what it might mean. He just left the map on his desk and was out of the office and running for the stairs so fast he didn't notice when the door swung open behind him.

Epilogue: June 1995

Remus waits for Sirius to come back.

Throughout the year that follows his leaving Hogwarts, he waits. Each morning he scours the Daily Prophet for any sign that the Ministry is on Sirius's trail, and each morning he heaves a sigh of relief when there is none. Occasionally he receives a letter from Sirius, crumpled and worn as though it has travelled a long way - as indeed it has - saying nothing other than that he is safe and is thinking of Remus. Later he manages, by using certain terms that would mean nothing to a Ministry of Magic official but everything to two people who shared ten years of their lives, to inform Remus that he is going back to Hogwarts to be near Harry. Although Remus worries about the danger to Sirius, he is secretly rather glad, because if what he's read in the Daily Prophet is true - and even if it isn't, which is more than likely, knowing Rita Skeeter - Harry will appreciate Sirius being so close.

He waits, and although some days he waits impatiently, it always passes, because he knows now that Sirius will come back.

*

When Sirius's note arrives he's thinking about Harry, hoping he's still all right, wondering if he could really succeed in winning the Triwizard Cup for Hogwarts. There's been nothing in today's paper, which strikes him as slightly worrying, though he isn't sure why.

The note is brief and has clearly been written in a hurry.

Moony,

This will reach you before I do. I'll explain everything when I see you. Expect me some time this afternoon.

Love,

P

It's odd but, now he knows that there'll be just a few hours before Sirius is here, in the house, with him, he's not quite sure what to do. He finds himself going round making sure everything is neat and clean. He doesn't know why, though, because the Sirius he remembers rarely paid attention to the tidiness - or not - of a room. He even goes out and buys a cake, the way his mother used to when important visitors were expected, as a way of occupying himself as much as anything else, but runs all the way home, the cake swinging wildly in its bag, when he realises Sirius may arrive at any minute and how would it seem to him if Remus left him waiting on the doorstep?

He jumps when he hears the knock on the door. For a moment, his hand on the doorknob, he hesitates, and then he pulls the door open and finds himself staring at Sirius.

Sirius is still painfully thin, his hair is still untidy and longer than Remus remembers, and his robes are still torn and dirty, but as he looks at Remus he's smiling and there's something in his eyes Remus hasn't seen since before Harry was born.

Still without saying anything, he stands back and lets Sirius move past him into the hall. He closes the door and turns to face Sirius, stands motionless on the mat for a second and then reaches out and wraps his arms around Sirius's shoulders, pulling him close. He feels Sirius's arms go around his waist and Sirius's face press into his neck, and he closes his eyes and breathes in the smell of dust and grime and sweat. He would never have thought dirty robes could smell so beautiful.

He doesn't know how long they stand there. Neither of them speaks. It isn't the time for speaking. There are so many questions he wants to ask Sirius, so many things he's waited so long to find out, but for the moment he keeps them to himself and thinks only of the fact that Sirius has finally come back to him.