Author's Note: This chapter is available in its uncensored form out of general circulation, in that other section of the library. Be sure to bring a note from your professor. All other chapters are as written.

Attributions: The song Sirius and Remus sing is Firefall's 1977 hit "You Are the Woman." And the poem Snape recites to Sirius is, of course, W.B. Yeats' "The Folly of Being Comforted."

"Happy Birthday, Mione!" Harry shrieked from behind an exploding fireball of a cake. He had been at work on the birthday cake with Sirius and Remus all afternoon, and the piece de resistance had been the seventeeen sparklers stuck on top. It looked like a giant chocolate bomb. Hermione clutched her sides laughing.

"Finite Incantatem," she managed to get out. "Finite Incantatem! Harry, what's happening?" The three men were now convulsing with laughter at the sight of Hermione trying to magic out the sparklers. She reached for her wand, but Harry lunged for it.

"Stop her, for the love of God! Not the rain shower again!" This sent Sirius and Remus off into fresh gales of laughter, and the cake was well and truly incinerated by the time the sparklers sputtered out. Nobody seemed to mind the taste of charred chocolate, however, when it was washed down with tankards of Rosmerta's best butterbeer, imported especially for the occasion.

"And now, Hermione," Sirius said when they were finishing up the last crumbs, "Remus and I have prepared a special entertainment for you. You might have heard some things about a group of four handsome young Brits who, in decades gone by, took the world by storm with their musical genius. Women worshiped them, men envied them, dogs and children adored them. No, not those four gits. I'm talking about the Musical Marauders and their Magical Mystery Band, of course. Tonight you are privileged to witness the reunion of the two most illustrious and talented members of that group, here in honor of your natal day festivities. Ahem."

With that he struck a dramatic pose, which Remus beside him imitated, and the two of them burst into song.

"You are the woman that I've always dreamed of

I knew it from the start

I saw your face and that's the last I've seen of my heart."

Sirius leaned forward to clasp her hands in his best silent film star fashion.

"It's not so much the things you say to me

It's not the things you do

It's how I feel each time you're close to me

That keeps me close to you, woh-oh-oh"

Harry was helpless with laughter, and Hermione's eyes streamed with tears. Now Remus was shoving Sirius over to kneel at her other side, hand over heart.

"It's not so much your pretty face I see

It's not the clothes you wear

It's more that special way you look at me

That always keeps me there, woh-oh-woh"

They launched into the chorus together, Remus's tenor overlaying Sirius's richer bass in a fair approximation of harmony.

"You are the woman that I've always dreamed of

I knew it from the start

I saw your face and that's the last I've seen of my heart."

They rollicked their way through a few more verses, finishing up to wild applause and many calls of "Encore! Encore!"

"We don't know any more," Remus confessed. "Usually that was all it took to get the girl to go out with Sirius or James."

"Pathetic! Are you telling me you used that to pick up women? I feel so used."

Harry attacked her with a pillow, but she escaped into the kitchen. The state of housekeeping in the cottage had taken a definite turn for the better since Hermione had come to stay. She decided to get a head start on rinsing the plates.

"Don't do that," Remus said behind her. "It's your birthday. Dishes can wait till morning."

"Hm, not these. What did you use to make the chocolate? It's like some sort of roofing tar."

"I'm offended. Are you implying we don't know anything about cooking?"

"No, I'm saying you don't know anything about cleaning."

"Insolent girl." He started to light a cigarette off the stove. "Do you mind?"

"No, go right ahead. Remus, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?"

"Of course not."

"In the other room you said something about getting the girl to go out with Sirius or James. You've made remarks like that before. Did you never ask any girls out when you were in school?"

Remus smoked for a minute in silence. "No, I never did."

"This is where I should quit, isn't it? I mean, would it be really intrusive to ask why that is?"

"Mildly. Are you asking if I'm gay?"

She frowned slightly. "Only tangentially. I mean, I gather the four of you played for both teams when the occasion suited."

"I didn't play for anybody's team. And don't even ask why, because you already know the answer to that. I've seen you do this in class, you know- affect ignorance because you want to see where you can lead the conversation. The problem with you is, you're about three times as clever as anyone else in the room and you figured that out a couple of years ago."

"And the problem with you is, you deflect a conversation so it centers on anyone other than you. You're very good at disappearing when you want to." She began filling the sink with warm soapy water. "My real question is, did you avoid dates because of being a werewolf or because of preferring men, or was it a combination?"

"I don't have a sexual preference, Hermione."

"Is that because you don't have a preference, or you don't have sex?"

"I think this conversation is over now." He went out the back door, allowing the screen door to slam behind him.

"What's up with Moony?" Sirius came in to refill his butterbeer, then thought better of it and opened the whiskey bottle in the cupboard.

"Probably just wants to finish his cigarette in peace."

"Hm. Well, it's only a couple of days to the full- he's always touchy right before. Go sweet talk him, will you? Harry wants us to teach him how to count cards that have an anti-cheating spell on them."

She rolled her eyes and went out the back door. Remus was sitting on the back stoop watching the distant play of moonlight on water. He ignored her when she sat beside him.

"I apologise," she said softly. "I shouldn't have asked you such personal questions. It's just-" She sighed. "You give this carefully cultivated impression of being open and inviting, but the truth is, you don't let anyone near you. I guess part of me wants to know why that is."

She didn't think he was going to answer her. When he finally spoke his voice was soft. "Because getting near me gets you killed." He stubbed his cigarette out on the stone. "I have killed before, you know, and I will probably do it again. You can take every precaution, but still, accidents will happen."

She nodded. "I understand."

He looked up over the water at the waxing orb hanging in the sky. "God, but I hate the moon."

"I understand that too. You know, a part of me wonders, if maybe you don't let anyone get near you because you don't want to see the look on their faces when they find out what you are."

He looked at her. "You have a devastating conversational style, you know that?"

"So I've been told."

He laughed grimly. "Of course there's that too. That's why I have a firm rule: no sex with people whose last names I know or am likely to find out. For my protection as much as theirs. Does that answer all your questions?"

"Actually. . ."

"You have got to learn how to lie, Hermione. This is a skill that will stand you in good stead in life. Say 'Yes, Remus' now like a good girl and let's go in." He grabbed her wrist and hauled her up. His grab was a little too forceful for her slight frame and it pulled her up flush against him. Neither of them moved a muscle.

"Yes, Remus," she said softly.

She heard the hitch in his breath. "Are you flirting with me, Hermione?"

"No, Remus."

He looked at her waist and put his hands on it. She rocked forward slightly and their hips just met. She felt him twitch against her and saw the muscle spasm in his jaw.

"We will not do this. Do you understand me, we will not."

"All right."

His grip on her waist tightened. He pulled her closer so their groins connected. They were both loking downwards at their joined bodies rather than at each other. He exhaled in a breathy gasp.

"I am going in the house now."

"All right."

They stayed perfectly still. Only their breathing accelerated.

"Moony!" Sirius's whiskey-loud voice could be heard calling from the kitchen. Remus moved her swiftly aside and walked back in the house, leaving her to follow, shaking. "Hey, what do you say we give it another go, Ringo? Harry wants to join in, and I think we should graciously allow him to take over for James. What do you say to a spot of Van Morrison?"

"Sure, Sirius. Just give me a shot of that whiskey, will you, and I'm your man." He knocked it back as Sirius began humming a pitch.

"What on earth are you doing that for? You're never on key as it is."

"No, but Harry might be. C'mon, Harry, let's see what you're made of." Sirius put his arms around Harry and Remus, and they were off into a loopy version of "Brown-Eyed Girl," aimed once again at Hermione, who stood awkwardly trying not to look at Remus. What they lacked in pitch they made up for in volume, which explained how all four of them failed to hear the knock at the front door until Severus Snape was standing in the kitchen doorway, a parcel tucked under his arm and an incredulous expression on his face.

"Severus!" Remus cried, and the three singers spluttered out into laughter like guilty schoolboys.

"Words fail me. How you can think that subjecting anyone to such a revolting display is an appropriate way of offering birthday felicitations is beyond me. Many happy returns of the day, Miss Granger." He laid the brown parcel on the table.

"Oh- that's-" She was at a momentary loss for words. Snape had just spoken cordially to her and offered her a present. The night's wonders looked not to cease. "Thank you."

"Here Snape, have a whiskey. Or butterbeer, if you prefer." Sirius scooted a chair around and pulled a glass from the shelf, wiping it on his shirttail.

"Whiskey is fine, thank you. Sit down, Mr. Potter, you look as though I am going to give you a detention. Which I might, if you don't stop gawping at me." He took a sip of the whiskey, making a face. "I see your taste in liquor has not improved, Black. It certainly encourages one to get right to business. Albus has asked me to confer with you and Lupin before the next meeting of the Order."

"Oh?" Remus pulled his chair closer. "This is about Pettigrew?"

"Precisely. While he has been most satisfactorily disposed of, there remains the issue of how he came to know of my double dealing. I am unwilling to contemplate the possibility that there might be a problem withing the Order itself, but it does have to be faced. If I could be exposed, then so could the two of you."

Hermione flicked her eyes at Harry. This was the first concrete reference they had heard to Sirius's and Remus's under the table activities. Sirius shook his head.

"I wish I had some idea, but I don't. Damn it! I should have asked him when I had him at wandpoint and he was spilling his guts on the floor."

"Yes, well, you were occupied with more important matters, like your petty personal vengeance. We certainly can't be expecting you to think beyond the moment."

Sirius's eyes flashed murder. "I didn't see you doing much better there, Dick Tracy."

"What did you call me?"

Remus held up his hand. "This is going to take some thinking about. Is there any way we can talk about this in the morning? It's getting late and I know we're all tired. I'm sure we'll all have clearer heads in the morning. That way we can figure out just how much we want to say to the Order tomorrow night and what we want to leave out. There's no reason you can't stay, is there, Severus?"

Snape looked around him with distaste. "Other than fear for my health, no. As long as Black stays in his kennel, I suppose I can manage." He reached for the whiskey bottle, but Sirius snatched it away with a glare.

"May I open my package, Professor?"

"Of course. That is the custom, isn't it?"

"I don't know, Snape. They might well have changed the way things are done since the last time you were invited to a party. Oh wait, you weren't invited, were you?"

"I'll just go then."

Remus laid a hand on his arm. "Please don't go. Hermione, open your present."

The three men watched her unwrap the parcel in silence. From a nest of paper she pulled a small cauldron of hammered silver, with its own folding ivory stand. The delicate curve of its sides gave back the kitchen light with a warm glow. It was clearly old, and valuable.

"Oh. Oh, Professor, I don't know what to say. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. It's- I just don't know what to say. Thank you." She looked at him with shining eyes.

"Inside the caudron you will find a note to be delivered to Smoag's in Hogsmeade. It contains my authorisation to sell you any ingredients you require. I am tired of finding my stores depleted when you find you have need of restricted substances for your- projects. You are advanced enough to start keeping your own stores now, and as Head Girl you will have ample room in your quarters for them. Just see that you set some very strong wards," he said with a glance at Harry.

"Thank you, Professor." She rose, clutching her prize. "This means a great deal to me." On impulse, she leaned down and wrapped her arms around the stunned Potions master, kissing him on his cheek. "I just have one question. Why does it say "ASS" on the bottom?"

Sirius choked and sprayed his whiskey over the table. Snape's glare was venomous.

"Those are my initials. Alexander Severus Snape. It was my first cauldron."

"Oh. Of course."

"If you like you may have your own engraved on it as well. HAG."

Harry and Remus erupted in laughter at Hermione's discomfiture. It was the bane of her existence that her middle name was Alice. Remus got up and slapped Harry on the back.

"Come on, Harry, let's get some rest." They followed Hermione upstairs and left Sirius to rinse the glasses. He shook out one of Remus's cigarettes and lit it.

"So, what do you really think?"

Snape sighed. "I think Pettigrew knew for some time and sat on the information until he saw what he wanted it to buy him. Until he wanted out bad enough."

"Well, he got his wish."

"Yes, he did."

Sirius leaned against the kitchen sink. "Take my room for the night. Don't worry, the linens are clean. I don't even remember the last time I turned down the covers."

"That's hardly comforting. Will there be fleas on the coverlid?"

Sirius closed his eyes. "Can we do this in the morning, please? It's been a long day." He rubbed at his shoulder.

"Is it giving you trouble? The wound, I mean."

"No. No, it's fine."

"Let me see."

Sirius reluctanty unbuttoned his shirt enough to allow Snape a glimpse at the shiny skin of the newly formed scar. It was round and large as a Galleon. Snape ran an investigative finger across the surface.

"Hm. Yes, that was the deepest one. By far the trickiest to seal."

"You sealed it?"

"Of course I did. Who else? You didn't honestly think you made it all the way back to Hogwarts with unsealed arterial stab wounds, did you?"

"It's very fine work."

"Of course it is. No trouble with the pain, you say?"

"None."

"But you are not sleeping."

"Oh. That has nothing to do with the stabbing. That's just- I go through bouts of it, sometimes. Since- well, it's off and on."

Snape nodded. "I see. Why don't you use a Dreamless Sleep potion?"

"I can't. They're- it's too much like-" Sirius realised he was clutching himself and dropped his arms. "I don't care for the heavy sleep they induce."

"Yes. Well, it might interest you to know I have been experimenting with a non-addictive Dreamless Sleep potion that induces only very light sleep. It would have only limited uses, of course, since most people who use Dreamless Sleep want to sleep as soundly as possible. But I think it could have beneficial medicinal uses, for patients in need of rest when a deep sleep is counterindicated. At any rate, I have been working on it some time and have several prototypes available. I will give you some at Hogwarts tomorrow."

"Thank you."

"Let me know if it works, and I'll brew some more. I'm still working on how to preserve it, so I haven't very much on hand. The damned thing keeps breaking down."

"All right."

He paused. "You're not going to bed tonight, are you, Black?"

"No. I don't dare."

"I see." Snape frowned, considering. "I am not unfamiliar with your problem."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I am no stranger to nightmares. When I was young, after my brother died, I was plagued with them. My mother used to stay with me all night long. She would stay awake, just sitting beside my bed. It was an extraordinary comfort, to wake and see her sitting there. Like being guarded."

Sirius smashed his cigarette against the side of the sink. "How touching."

"When was the last time you slept, Black?"

"Don't know. Two, three days ago."

"Which means four. You're going to undo all of Poppy's and my hard work if you don't get some rest. Come on, we're going to try something. Come with me."

Snape's tone did not brook refusal, and in his exhausted and whiskey-fuzzed state Sirius couldn't work one up. He stumbled after Snape, who turned down the covers on his bed and helped him in, pulling off his shoes and socks.

"Now. You're going to get some sleep."

"I can't." Sirius mumbled. "They'll come."

"No, they won't. They can't come, if I am guarding you. You see? If there's any trouble, I'll wake you at once."

Sirius mumbled something that might have been a protest.

"Black. You must trust me. Do you?"

"Yes."

"All right then. Light on or off?"

"On, please."

"I'll leave this candle burning. Now then, sleep."

"No, no, I can't. Lily asked me to watch the baby. Have to stay awake."

Snape swallowed. "The baby is safe. He's fine. I'll watch him."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He watched him sleep for the better part of an hour before stirring. He thought about going to get the Daily Prophet he had seen lying on the parlour sofa, but didn't want Black to wake and find him gone. He reached for one of the books stacked on the bedside table and leafed idly through it. Some sort of Muggle detective novel. Ye gods.

He was on page 103 when Black began to twitch. He watched him carefully, hesitant to wake him. It might be an innocuous dream. The twitching subsided. Snape went back to his book, making a mental note to ask someone what the FBI was. It was hard to tell, in the Muggle world, what was authentic and what was made up. It all seemed so fantastic.

A low moan came from Black's throat. He tossed the book aside and laid a hand on his shoulder. Black's arm shot out as if to ward something off.

"Black." He shook him gently. "Black."

Sirius's eyes flew open. They were wild. He struck out again with his arm and Snape caught his hand.

"Hush now. Go back to sleep. You're fine." He tried to remember what his mother had said. "I'm here."

Sirius's eyes drifted shut. He did not relinquish his hold on Snape's hand, however. Snape shifted a little on the hard chair. Black's grip tightened. He cradled the hand in his for a moment, looking at it. He ran a thumb across its weathered back. Stroking seemed to make it relax its death grip. Hesitantly he brought the hand to his face and held it there.

"Is he all right?"

Lupin's voice at the door made him drop the hand like it was on fire.

"Yes, I think so."

Lupin went away and reappeared with a pillow and a blanket. "Here. You'll kill yourself, sitting in that chair all night. At least you can stretch out a bit." He tossed the pillow and blanket on the other side of the bed and shuffled off to the parlour. "Call if you need anything."

Snape gently propped himself against the headboard and pulled the blanket around his legs. It felt good to get some blood flowing in them again. Blood. He closed his eyes and tried not to see the blood. There had been so much of it, pulsing hideously with each beat of Black's slowing heart, puddling beneath him, spreading slickness on the floor, coating his frantic fingers.

Black's hand struck out again and he caught it. Another moan, louder this time, then another. He thrashed against the bedlinens.

"Black. Wake up. You're safe. I'm here."

Sirius clutched at him and only stilled when Snape began to stroke his head. He wrapped both arms around Snape's waist and held as though his life depended on it. In his dream, Snape mused, it probably does. He continued his stroking of the touseled mane in his lap, separating the silver strands mixed in with the black. He remembered his mother murmuring things to him, snatches of poetry and song that had eased his passage back into sleep.

"Your well-beloved's hair has threads of grey,

And little shadows come about his eyes

When he smiles,"

he murmured, leaning close to Black's ear. It seemed to be doing the trick. His breathing was evening out now. Snape watched the rise and fall of his chest for a minute.

"Time can but make it easier to be wise

Though now it seem impossible,

And so, all that you need is patience."

Sirius's breathing slowed and his head became heavier in Snape's lap. He continued stroking and lowered his voice to a whisper.

"Heart cries, No.

I have not a shred of comfort, not a grain.

Because of that great nobleness of his,

The fire that stirs about him, when he stirs,

Burns but more clearly.

Oh, he had not these ways

When all the wild summer was in his gaze."

"You're changing it."

"And you're supposed to be asleep."

Sirius lifted his head and gave a sleepy smile before burrowing his head in Snape's lap again. "Finish it."

Snape gave a wry smile and resumed his stroking. "Oh heart! Oh heart!" His baritone thrummed above Sirius's ear. "If she'd but turn her head, you'd know the folly of being comforted."

"He."

"Hm?"

"You said 'he' when you thought I was asleep."

"Did I? I don't remember."

"You're such an old liar, Severus." He pulled himself up so they were nose to nose. "Do you know what I want to do right now?"

"I couldn't say." He hadn't meant for his voice to go so husky.

"Then let me show you." Slowly, Sirius lowered his lips to Snape's. The kiss was slow and good. Snape felt his hips arch up in spite of himself. The blood left the rest of his body to pool below when Sirius's hand brushed his groin.

"God, Severus. Do you know how much I want you?"

"I have some idea."

Sirius began unbuttoning Snape's waistcoat and shirt, uncovering his chest. He latched on to a nipple and swirled his tongue around it. Snape cried out and bucked against his mouth.

"Yes, I forgot how much you liked that. What else have I forgotten, I wonder? Too much. Too goddamned much." He pushed off the shirt and began unfastening the placket of Snape's trousers. "Like how much your clothes turn me on. The way these trousers follow the line of your ankle, these buttons. . ." He pulled them off and regarded Snape's body. "And I've forgotten how goddamned good you look out of them. Out of everything." He ran his hands over Snape's naked form, carefully avoiding the swollen cock that twitched at the approach of his hands.

"Sirius. I am hardly seventeen anymore."

"No. You're about a hundred times sexier now, aren't you?" He regarded the long, muscled body beneath him with its light dusting of dark hair, drifting his eyes lower. "Beautiful."

Snape pulled him down for a long kiss, tasting the tea and whiskey and cigarettes on the other man's tongue. He let his hands go for the first time and twined them in Black's hair. Slowly they relearned each other's mouths.

"Tell me what you want, Severus."

"Why don't you let me show you, love?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When Sirius woke, he was curled under the covers with Snape pressed against his back. There was an arm thrown across him, pulling him close. He looked at the large long-fingered hand resting by his abdomen. Springy black hairs stood out against the remarkably pale skin. He placed his hand on top of Snape's.

"Awake, are we?"

"Mm. How long have I been out?"

"Some time, actually. Your first decent sleep all night."

He gave a short laugh. "Longer than that." He shifted so he could see Snape. "Did you mean what you said?"

Snape lifted an eyebrow. "There is much I have said in the last twenty years I might wish to. . .modify."

Sirius laughed again. "No, I meant earlier. What you called me."

"Ah. I have a dim recollection." Snape gave a languid stretch. "I thought we had already covered all that. Honestly, if you are not going to pay attention to my letters, I will simply stop writing them."

Sirius propped himself on his arm. "So. If this is the non-addictive Dreamless Sleep potion you were talking about, it's an utter failure."

"Oh? Well, I was thinking of something a little more conventional, actually. You find my methods of sleep inducement wanting?"

"I find them. . . ." He trailed a finger down Snape's chest. "Highly effective. But addictive in the extreme."

"Addictive?" Snape's eyes darkened. "That would be most unwise."

"Yes, it would." He lowered his head to rest it on Snape's chest. "It would indeed." He drifted back asleep within seconds, burrowed into the other man's warmth. Only when he was certain Sirius was fully asleep did Snape begin his gentle stroking of his back, frowning slightly at the hard bump of vertebrae beneath his hand, the prominence of rib and bone. He did not sleep that night, but he did not feel its lack. He had promised to stand watch.