This story is for Lucy, who deserves all the WolfStar Salad!AU fics.

Sirius' once stylish, now threadbare pinstriped slacks brushed quietly against the ferns in an isolated corner of the Forest of Dean. His eyes darted left and right as he trekked through the entirely-too-familiar underbrush. But even though wand-hunting in the wilderness wasn't his style, the last five years of experience had taught him exactly where the rabbits liked to congregate.

Honestly, if it were only up to him, he probably wouldn't have bothered. Sure, he missed the juicy cuts of steak and savory rotisserie chicken drumsticks, the memories of which tended to burn most sinfully on his tongue when the day's selection of vegetables happened to be particularly uninspired. Still, even he could get used to legumes instead of lamb; to beans instead of beef.

His best friend, however, was a different story.

Sirius stopped in his tracks as his practiced ears picked up the soft swish of leaves brushing against each other. He held his wand in front of him as he scanned the underbrush for signs of life. The tiniest rustle told him he'd made his mark.

Accio Rabbit!

A flurry of brown fur zoomed out of the bushes. A practiced slice of his wand later, Sirius had meat on the menu today. A grin spread over his roguish features as he imagined Remus' face when he came home from his long day in the avocado greenhouse to the tempting scent of gamey flesh filling the government-issued hovel they occupied together. He would have to cast a containment ward, of course, to make sure none of the other villagers caught the scent of the forbidden meal.

His imagination was already running wild with the possibilities as he shrunk the rabbit carcass and shoved it into his robes before trudging back through the woods to the small clearing that housed the village. He rolled his eyes. How many years had it been, now, since Veggiemort had won the war? And yet, the anti-apparition wards that spanned a five-mile radius around the area still never failed to grate on him. He never did like being told what to do.

His heart pounded erratically in his chest as he adopted his usual carefree outward swagger and moved down the green-cobblestone path between the rows of identical little huts in his section of the neighborhood: Succotash Street. Even though his neighbors had no real reason to suspect he was carrying contraband, he couldn't be too careful. Some of them were bound to be true vegetarians.

He stopped outside his thin wooden door and peeked into the produce bin standing in its designated spot on the front patio. There were potatoes today. Potatoes, carrots, and the usual head of lettuce. He could work with that.

An hour later, Remus shuffled through the door and sniffed the air, a hint of boyish sparkle reawakening in his eyes. Sirius was reminded of their days at Hogwarts; those beautiful, innocent days of youth before their salad overlords had seized power and spoiled everything.

He carefully closed and warded the door behind him. "Rabbit stew? Sirius, you are an absolute angel. If I had to choke down one more chopped kale salad…"

Sirius grinned. "Happy Day-after-the-full-moon Day! Look: even the romaine is celebrating."

Remus shook his head at the dozens of origami animals Sirius had somehow magicked or folded out of their daily offering of leafy greens. "Sirius, that is not a thing."

"Sure it is. One more awful transformation being confined to a tiny silver cage in Veggiemort's basement down, a lifetime more to go. The least I could do was to help you get your iron levels back up. I know how the full moon does a number on them."

"You really shouldn't, you know. If you ever get caught…"

Sirius shrugged. "Some things are worth rebelling for. Actually, most things are worth rebelling for. I'd do it a lot more often, but red was never my color." He shuddered as the crystal bowl of tomatoes Veggiemort liked to keep on his dining room table flashed before his eyes. Transfiguration had always been one of the hippie dictator's strong suits, and the sick gourd-gobbler loved to use it to make an example of people who were caught breaking the rules.

The taste of the rabbit juices mixed into the broth of the stew had Sirius closing his eyes in heavenly bliss. What he wouldn't give to be free from this forced vegetarianism and taste this every day. Soon, he told himself.

Just as soon as he could finish his master escape plan and figure out exactly where that over-enthusiastic rabbit had hidden the Potters. Then they would be free of this vegan nightmare, and he would have steak at every meal until the day he died.

Sirius and Remus were just tipping their bowls back to drain the last of dregs of the stew when the expected daily knock sounded at the door—tap, tap, tap.

Remus cast a vanishing charm to erase the evidence of their civil disobedience. It was a clever trick, really; the key being to banish the meaty smell so no suspicion could arise. But Remus had always been clever with this type of thing.

He had just finished spelling the romaine animals into the salad bowl when Sirius opened the door to admit Peter Pettigrew. He was wearing a green woolen uniform, a marker of his elevated status as the village's Compliance Officer. As the men presented their wands to him, Sirius tried to keep from rolling his eyes at the thick band of matching green fabric tied around Peter's round head. It was meant to signify peace; serenity. Really, it signified terrible taste.

"...looks to be in order. No trace of dark magic or rebellious spellwork," the traitorous man was saying.

Sirius bit back a smirk. No, Peter wouldn't find any evidence of his misdeeds today; he had found workarounds to all the spells the current regime had deemed 'hostile'.

When Peter finally handed them back their wands, Sirius pocketed his and turned back to their former friend with a smile full of lies. "What's the news in the upper rooms these days? Anything exciting—a new strain of pepper, perhaps?"

"Well, there is a rumor going around," Peter said, his face igniting with self-importance.

Sirius carefully stroked his ego. "Well, old boy! Let's hear it—you know we always count on you and your high connections to plan our weekly menus."

Peter's little mousey eyes darted around the room before he leaned in closer, the smell of capers strong on his breath. "Frank Longbottom. His skills in Holding Five have sent him on a fast-track to The Vegan Lord's most trusted. They're having an initiation ceremony this week—I've heard they're naming him Head Guru."

"Well, that is exciting news! We couldn't be prouder. Perhaps we could send him a decorative salad in celebration." Sirius clapped Peter on the back and began to lead him back to the front door. If what the old rat was saying was true, he and Remus had some serious planning to do.

Two weeks later, Frank Longbottom's eyes darted around the forest of cornstalks in Holding Eleven. Finally satisfied there were no witnesses, he muttered a pest alarm spell—still legal, thanks to their usefulness in preserving crops from hungry creatures—to warn them of any approaching bodies. His voice was still nearly inaudible as he whispered to Sirius, "They're in Greenhouse Five. They've been transfigured into the petunia pots."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Is that supposed to be some kind of sick joke? No matter. We'll grab them and make a run for it tonight. We should be able to make it past the anti-apparition zone by sunrise if we don't stop. Will you join us?"

Frank nodded. "Once we grab the Potters, we have no reason to stick around. I've figured out how to remove our traces, but we'll want to wait until we make it to the wards. It'll make a pretty loud sound to alert he-who-does-not-eat-meat, but we should be able to apparate away before he gets to us."

"Perfect." Sirius smiled with all of his perfect teeth and strolled off through the maze of cornstalks. After five years of oppression, he and Remus were finally going to be free to eat all of the juicy bacon they could ever dream of. He absolutely couldn't wait.

Thank you to Ari for beta reading this for me, and to Lucy for giving me the idea.

I do not own Harry Potter.