"Padfoot."

He turned over in their bed, growling like a dog, making the one who spoke smile at the human-form in front of him.

"Sirius?"

He picked up his pillow, hitting the one who spoke in his ribs with it.

"Love, get up."

"Dun wanna." The last word was said a bit forcefully, but he could tell there was a smile in it.

"You have to, Sirius." Remus insisted. He pulled the covers away from the bed, leaving the sleepy Animagus cold and naked without blankets. "Moody called. He has work for you."

"Ooh, Moony." Sirius ignored the last statement. He kept his eyes shut, grabbing a hold of Remus and flipping the werewolf down with him; burying his face in Remus' neck and inhaling. He could smell coffee and chocolate imbedded in Remus' turtleneck sweater. Remus had been up for a while. "Now I'm cold."

"Put some clothes on, then." Remus insisted, trying to get off the bed. Sirius kept his hold.

"Nooo," Sirius whined. "Help me."

"Sirius, you know Moody gets mad when you don't—"

"I'm too sleepy to do it on my own." Sirius excused. "I might put something on wrong and end up choking to death." Remus suppressed a laugh.

"Well, I don't want that happening, do I?" He asked, tracing Sirius' lips with a finger. "You know I couldn't stand it if you were gone."

"So you'd better help me, huh?" Sirius asked, grinning. Remus rolled his eyes. He ran a hand down Sirius' hair, twiddling a messy clump at the bottom.

"I guess I'd better," He answered. "Good thing I told Moody you'd call him back in half an hour."

Sirius laughed, grabbing Remus by the waist and rolling over so Remus was lying atop him.

"I'll need more time than that, love."

XXXXX

"I can't do it today, Moody!" Sirius maintained. He remained crouched on the ground, looking slightly angry at the fireplace in front of him. He scratched his bare back. He'd only taken the time to put a tight pair of blue jeans on.

"Why can't you?" Moody's voice boomed. His face flickered in the fireplace unhappily, and Sirius could see a snarl come from the man. "We're in a bind, Sirius. It's either get you to go to London or send Peter to."

"Wormtail can spend all day in the Leaky Cauldron. He loves it there. Get him to do it. I'm sure he's more than up to it." Sirius shrugged. "Besides, why would I want to go all the way to London, when I'm about ten minutes away from Godric's Hollow? Those two are so far apart. Peter's got to be closer." Sirius smirked, placing his long, black hair behind his shoulders. "You're not the only one preoccupied tonight."

"Oh, and what do you have going on?" Moody snarled.

"It's Halloween tonight, Alastor." Sirius excused. "Little Harry's second," Even though I don't even know where the Potters are. He took a moment to glare at himself. "And besides, it's a full moon tonight."

For a second Moody's face softened before he slid his mask of indifference on.

"I see," He started. "I suppose if you're going to whine and argue with me about it, I could ask Peter to do it tonight. Even though he probably will spend all bloody day and night at the Leaky Cauldron."

"I'm so glad you see things my way," Sirius grinned, having not recalled ever whining and arguing with Moody about the point of not working on Halloween. Alastor Moody nodded his acknowledgement and disappeared from the flames.

Sirius stood and stretched; his muscles hadn't been too happy about being in that cramped position for so long.

"You could have gone, you know."

The voice behind him almost made the man jump. Sirius turned around to see Remus leaning against the doorway, connecting the living room to the kitchen. In his hands was a mug of coffee. His tawny hair remained uncombed from their exploits that morning and his light-green turtleneck was wrinkled. Sirius grinned. Merlin, Remus was gorgeous.

"I could have," He admitted, sauntering suggestively over to the werewolf, making the boy shrink back with a knowing smile. "But then where would that leave you?"

"In the cellar, like I always am." Remus answered.

"Now why would I want to go down to London—quite a ways away from where we are, mind you—to sit in a pub and drink the blessed day away while you were stuck here all by yourself? In the cellar, no less."

"Because the Order told you to."

"I told the Order to get over themselves and get Peter to do it," Sirius lunged forward and wrapped an arm around Remus, nuzzling his nose into the man's neck. "So now I get to spend all day with you!"

Remus laughed feebly, failing to suppress a shiver.

"I'm not sure if I should be scared or pleased." He said.

"A little of both," Sirius suggested. "It's Halloween, you know. Being scared is a must." He licked Remus' ear, growling sensually. "And since I'm home all day, you sure as bloody hell better be pleased."

"Language, Sirius," Remus prompted. Sirius shrugged. He took the mug out of Remus' hands and set it on the table. Then he wrapped an arm around Remus' knees and lifted the werewolf up. He was rewarded with a tiny squeal.

"Let's go make use of our day off, okay?"

XXXXX

Sirius lay with his arms wrapped around Remus protectively, his chin resting on the top of the werewolf's head. Remus seemed to forever amuse himself by tracing small figures into his lover's bicep. His face looked concentrated. His nose scrunched into itself and his brow furrowed in thought. Sirius barked out a small laugh.

"What?" Remus sighed.

"Nothing," Sirius shifted his position to grip tighter around Remus' waist. "You just look incredibly adorable."

"Hmmm…." Remus closed his eyes, burrowing into Sirius as far as he could. He enjoyed the warmth.

"And when we get a kid, you're going to have to refrain from teaching him or her that look." Sirius continued. "I can't say no to that look."'

Remus stopped drawing mindless patters and turned to face Sirius.

"You really want a child?"

"Moony, of course I want a kid." Sirius answered. His heart melted as Remus beamed. "A cute little youngster we can teach our Marauder ways. He'll have your smarts and my looks. He'll be the ultimate Marauder!"

Remus laughed.

"I would like a child, too." He stated. "But I think that a child with my smarts and your looks would have an even bigger ego than you do, and that could be deadly." Sirius chuckled.

"And we won't ever be mean to him or her." He continued, now with a solemn voice. "We won't ever shut him or her out for their choices or their views."

Remus lightly kissed Sirius on the lips, reassuringly.

"We won't."

Sirius smiled. Remus couldn't help but reciprocate.

"Can we have a kid?" Sirius asked, quite seriously. Remus sighed.

"Not genetically possible, I'm afraid." He sniggered at Sirius' disappointed face. "But we could look into adoption, if you want."

"Let's do that." Sirius proposed. Remus nodded.

"We will."

Sirius couldn't help himself. He captured Remus' lips with his own. Remus reciprocated almost immediately, moaning as he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around Sirius' neck.

Sirius raked his tongue across Remus' bottom lip, gently biting at it. Remus opened his mouth willingly and Sirius continued his barrage on the open orifice given to him.

He knew the nooks and crannies of Remus' mouth by memory. He could almost picture them in his mind as he felt about, growling his arousal to his mate.

Remus pulled back, obviously out of breath. His lips were now red and swollen, and he licked them as if there wasn't enough moisture on them already. Sirius trailed small kisses down his collarbone, onto his neck. He began sucking at Remus' pulse, chuckling in contentment as Remus growled his pleasure.

"If we're going to be at this all day like I think you want us to, I would slow down, Padfoot. It's not even noon yet." Remus grinned, gasping as Sirius hit a sensitive spot. Sirius licked across Remus' neckline, steadily going farther and farther down.

"Yeah, and if we keep this rate up, think of how many more times we get to do this today, Moony," He grinned toothily, tenderly nipping at his chest. Remus gripped Sirius' hair, letting out a deep breath as he gave in to Sirius' ministrations, dipping lower and lower still.

"And how many places."

All Sirius could do was growl.

XXXXX

"Remus!" Sirius called through the house. He put his last shoe on and pulled his black jacket around his shoulders. "It's almost seven!"

"I know what time it is, thank you." The reply came. "I'm heading to the cellar now." A huge growl erupted from the general area Sirius was now walking toward, and Remus started talking again. "Merlin, I hate the blue moons."

Sirius caught up with an exasperated Remus in the hallway. The man looked already to be in pain. He gripped his sides and cringed.

"Let's go."

They headed out the front door and around to the back. Sirius opened the cellar doors and both of them stared into the black abyss.

"I'm scared." Remus confided. Sirius wrapped an arm around him.

"Baby, I know." He cooed. "I'm here. And I'll—" He stopped short, squinting to the ever-darkening sky. Remus looked in the direction Sirius was and paled.

"Is that what I think it is?" He asked, wincing as another pain raced through his body. Sirius gulped.

In the sky, a skull appeared, looking as nothing more than a cloud. This skull-like cloud opened its mouth and a snake coiled out of it, ringing around the skull menacingly.

The Dark Mark.

"It doesn't look far," Sirius gauged. "Maybe five, ten minutes away if I run."

"Go," Remus ordered.

"I don't want to leave you by yourself."

"Go, damn it!" Remus growled. "I'll be here when you get back. I'm not going anywhere."

Sirius sighed, staring at Remus desperately. He smashed a quick kiss to the werewolf's lips.

"I'll be back; I promise."

XXXXX

Sirius ran.

He'd never run so much in his human form in his life. He kept his gaze on the large Dark Mark in the sky, pelting down the streets and leaping over fences, cutting through yards.

He must have run for a good seven minutes, though it felt like hours to him. He stopped when the Mark was almost over him.

He was in Godric's Hollow.

Why would the Death Eaters—or even Voldemort—be here? There was nothing recently significant about the place that would give him any reason to go there.

Sirius slowed to a walk, huffing as he walked down the street. The place looked normal enough. The houses were silent and peaceful. A dog trotted by, giving Sirius a nod as he did. Sirius nodded back, a sign of greeting from Animagus to animal.

Sirius was practically standing underneath the Dark Mark. They must have marked the two-story house in front of him, then. What a shame. Sirius had stared at that house many times as he'd passed through the town as Padfoot during the past few months.

With a nervous cough, Sirius found the door unlocked and treaded inside.

It was a normal house. There was a hallway leading from the door to another hallway, which intersected the first one. The house was very cold, and it smelled of death. It made Sirius shiver. He wondered who the house belonged to.

It was too dark to see any details. Sirius pulled his wand out of his back pocket and held it up.

"Lumos."

How he wished he hadn't said that word. His wand faithfully lit up the area surrounding him. He saw that the tiles beneath him were splattered with blood, as if there had been a huge fight. His gray eyes wandered to the walls, where pictures hung. He had to bite his tongue to keep from crying out loud. His eyes widened and he could not stop the gasp which escaped his lips.

There, staring him in the face, was a picture of James and Lily, holding onto a small-but-happy Harry.

"James?" Sirius called loudly. "James, where are you?" He flicked his wand and lights turned on throughout the house.

This time Sirius did throw up. He followed the trickle of blood to its source. He instantly closed his eyes, looking away.

"Oh, James!"

It looked like the man was sleeping, except that his eyes were open and there was blood pouring out of the back of his head. At his side lay his wand, hanging inches away from his stiff, pale hand.

It didn't take a genius to interpret what happened. Someone had come and used the Killing Curse. When James hit the floor, his head smashed into the table behind him. Which was also why there was blood dripping off of the corner of the wooden table behind James' corpse.

Sirius sobbed twice before realizing that there were supposed to be more people in the house.

"Lily?" He called, searching the first floor with a sense of dread. When he found nothing he sped up the stairs. "Harry?"

Sirius found the door to the nursery broken off of its hinges. He stepped into the room, trepidation filling his being.

Somehow he wasn't surprised to find Lily on the ground, in a similar fashion to James. Tears coursing down his face, he leaned onto the door frame to keep his balance.

They were dead. Dead. They're not coming back. His best friend and his best friend's wife were gone.

"Silli?"

The voice made Sirius leap into the air, his wand raised to kill. With his nerves totally shot, it took him a few moments to realize that a child had spoken. He frowned.

"Silli?"

The voice spoke again.

"Harry?" Sirius asked in disbelief. Why would someone come in and kill the parents, but not touch the one the parents went into hiding to protect?

"Silli!" Sirius held his wand up, turning about in the room. A large, black piece of cloth began moving. A small pair of hands groped into sight and Sirius pulled at the fabric.

A small boy sat on the ground, rubbing his eyes against the light. Sirius gaped. Harry looked mostly unfazed by what happened to his family. A small dribble of blood flowed steadily from his forehead, but Sirius might be able to associate that with Lily dropping him, if she was indeed holding him when she died.

Hope welled inside Sirius as he dropped to his knees and pulled Harry into a hug. He wrapped his arms around the one-year old, letting out a small sob.

"Silli!" Harry repeated.

"It's okay, Harry." Sirius whispered, more to calm himself than to soothe the perfectly-happy child. "You're all right. Don't worry; I'm here. You're all right, Harry."

"Silli!" Harry's tone sounded exasperated. Sirius figured he might have been hugging a bit too tight and Harry couldn't get any air. He let go of the boy, inspecting the cut on his forehead.

Sirius fumbled about for a cloth. He ended up looking through the cabinets and settling for a baby wipe. He dabbed at the wound on Harry's head, instantly panicking. What if Harry was hurt? What if he had a concussion?

Then he frowned.

He'd cleared away the blood, and found the cut on his head in the shape of a lightning bolt. He couldn't have gotten that from a fall. Something else must have happened.

Still, Harry was happily jerking on Sirius' raven-colored locks, so he must not have been in too much pain. Though it wouldn't hurt to have him dropped by St. Mungo's.

Harry began fiddling with the black cloak he'd been situated underneath. Out of curiosity Sirius picked it up and sniffed it.

He'd smelled that scent somewhere. He was sure of it. Padfoot's nose was never wrong. It knew many scents, but it could still find a way to tell a difference. Now, where had he smelled this one from?

Voldemort.

Sirius shot up, wand in the air.

"Expecto Patronum!" He called. A wispy, could-like wolf appeared in front of him. "Voldemort found the Potters. Someone come quickly!" In a flash the wolf took off.

XXXXX

Dumblebore smiled to himself, popping another lemon drop into his mouth. What a perfectly happy day it had been.

As far as happy days went, of course. Not everyone could say that losing even more people to the Dark Lord's power and having many accidents happen in one day could be happy. But Dumbledore liked to keep things in perspective.

At least he was working on a rather large breakthrough to finish the war.

Yes, his spy within the Death Eaters was supplying a surprising amount of useful information, allowing the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to plan more elaborate, more difficult attacks on the side of evil. Some moves could probably turn the tide back to the side of good.

Not to mention that it was Halloween night, and the children in Hogwarts were having a grand time scaring each other and eating their feast.

Dumbledore had left said feast earlier than usual, this day. He somehow felt that he was going to be needed elsewhere this night, and he was currently in his office enjoying a night of relaxation and rest.

He was, however, slightly worried about a few former students of his. The Marauders, as they called themselves, had currently been split up for the protection of each other. James and his wife, Lily, quite obviously had to be put into hiding to protect their lovely son, Harry. James' best friend Sirius had been appointed as Secret-Keeper of their hideout, so no one would be able to find them…. Unless Sirius was a traitor.

Sirius had moved quite happily into Remus' house. The two were very happy together, and they didn't disagree often. Dumbledore knew both of them would do anything for each other, and often did.

Peter was the one Marauder that eluded Dumbledore constantly. The Headmaster never knew where the boy was or what he was doing. It made him nervous, and he tried not to think about it.

Out of nowhere, a large wolf-like apparition popped into his office. It landed in front of him, staring into his eyes urgently.

This stumped Dumbledore. This Patronus was Sirius'. But Sirius was supposed to be helping Remus out with his 'furry little problem', as the troublemaker called it.

The wolf opened its jaws and Sirius' voice—very panicked, Dumbledore considered—called out from it.

"Voldemort found the Potters." He started. Dumbledore dropped the lemon drop he had coming toward his mouth. "Someone comequickly!" With that, the wolf dissolved in front of him.

Suddenly Dumbledore was very glad he hadn't been in the Great Hall for everyone to hear that.

XXXXX

Sirius inwardly lost his nerve, searching the house once more, this time very thoroughly. He had Harry propped up on his hip so he wouldn't have to leave the boy by himself with his dead mother in the room.

After finding nothing, he cautiously made his way back into the nursery room, examining the cloak on the ground. It wasn't James', and it wasn't Lily's. Lily was a size smaller than this cloak, and James had a large 'P' on the front of all of his cloaks.

It was definitely Voldemort's, he accepted. It practically reeked of him. But why was it on the ground, and on top of Harry at that?

Sirius sat in thought. If Voldemort had been here, he was definitely here to kill Harry. So why would he kill his parents but not his actual target?

That got him thinking about that cut on his head. It couldn't have been made from hitting his head on something. It was too precise. The lightning scar was probably the repercussion of a curse gone awry.

What if….

But that thought was too hopeful. It would be almost impossible for an Avada Kedavra to backfire onto the attacker.

Still….

Sirius felt around the cloak and around the floor. His hand wrapped around something cold and hard. He brought it in front of him.

It was obvious that the white-handled, skull-based wand in his hands was Voldemort's.

"Harry," Sirius was almost scared to ask. "What happened here?"

"Silli!" Harry beamed, sucking on one of his fingers. "Man go boom! Bye-bye!" He pulled a part of the cloak over his head before tugging it away.

"Man go…." Sirius repeated under his breath. He was silently awed at the fact that Harry could speak in broken sentences. It was evident what he was saying. Voldemort blew up, or disappeared, or something to that effect, and his cloak had fallen on top of Harry until Sirius showed up.

So that meant that Voldemort was gone! Instantly he felt a weight being lifted off him.

"Mummy?" Harry called. He looked around, not noticing the woman lying limply on the ground behind Sirius. "Daddy?"

And, just as quickly, the weight came crashing back down on him.

How had Voldemort found them? No one knew where they were; not even Sirius had! He'd been passing by their house for months without realizing it! The only one who knew where the Potters were hiding was their Secret-Keeper, who had originally been Sirius… but they switched it at the last second.

It seemed like a smart move. Everyone expected Sirius to be the Secret-Keeper. He was, after all, James' best friend. No one would ever expect a different friend to take up the position instead of the obvious choice. The only one who knew where the Potters had been living for the past few months had been….

NO.

Sirius took a moment to mentally punch himself. Peter…. The little bastard had been the traitor all along! How could he? He'd been a Marauder since they'd met in their first year of Hogwarts!

But there was no other explanation. Peter Pettigrew had killed James Potter, his best friend. And he'd tried to kill James' son.

Another, more serious, thought slammed into him just in time for him to look outside and see a rather large man running toward the house.

No one knew Peter was the Secret-Keeper.

Everyone thought Sirius had been the one keeping the secret. No one would suspect that it had in fact been Peter who threw everyone for a loop and turned on them all. Sirius was going to take the fall for something Peter had done.

Sirius was going to kill Peter. Might as well have a reason for being sent to Azkaban.

He looked at the clock in the nursery, smirking bitterly at the crayon hands and the rainbow face. By the looks of it, he'd been in the house a full two hours. It was nearly nine at night. He couldn't leave Harry alone.

Feet were pounding up the stairs. Sirius threw his wand toward the door, preparing the most menacing hex he could think of at the moment. He stood protectively in front of his godson, planning for the worst.

A large, familiar, half-giant came parading through the door. Sirius sighed, lowering his wand.

"Hagrid." He said. "Thank Merlin."

"What 'ave ya done, Black?" Hagrid asked. "What did ya do?"

"I didn't do it!" Sirius growled. "I saw the Dark Mark from my house and came running. I found Harry lying on the floor underneath the huge cloak there."

Hagrid looked behind Sirius to see said cloak while Sirius picked Harry up and get him on his hip. Harry wrapped his arms as tightly as he could around Sirius and tried to fall asleep.

"The cloak is You-Know-Who's." Sirius continued. "His wand is underneath it."

"Well, I'll be." Hagrid slapped a hand to his forehead.

"You're the only one that came from my warning?" Sirius seemed a bit disappointed.

"Others are comin', Black." Hagrid explained. "I'm s'posed ta take Harry and bring him ta Dumbledore." Sirius backed up.

"No," Hagrid stumbled at Sirius' words. "You have to tell Dumbledore to get him to St. Mungo's first."

"I can't—"

"You have to, Hagrid." Sirius interrupted. "There's a huge cut on his forehead that could be the effect of a backfired curse. He could be infected with something. Please tell Dumbledore to put Harry in the hospital."

"I—" Hagrid seemed conflicted. "All righ', I'll tell 'im."

"How are you getting to Dumbledore?"

"I figured I'd jus' Floo over to 'im, so if ya'd just—"

"No, you can't do that." Sirius cut in. "One-year olds can't go through the Floo Network; it's bad for them. Only the circuits through St. Mungo's have the kind of money to safely regulate through young ones."

"Then 'ow do ya s'pose I get Harry ta Dumbledore?" Hagrid put his hands on his hips.

"Go to my house, it's about ten minutes south of here." Sirius instructed. "In my garage is my motorbike. It flies. It'll get you there really fast without hurting Harry."

"I don't think it'll hold me up, Black." Hagrid gave himself a once-over. "I'm a pretty big guy."

"It will work." Sirius insisted. "Just get into the garage and take it." He reluctantly pulled Harry off of him and handed him to Hagrid. "Please be careful with him."

"And where are ya going, Black?" Sirius headed for the door.

"I've got something else to do."

XXXXX

He grasped at the bottle of firewhiskey, stumbling down the busy—even for nighttime—street. He was amazed he could keep his balance so easily. He probably owed that ability to the ever-prevailing sense of balance a rat has.

Peter took another swig of the alcohol, stopping on a corner of London, England. He leaned against the building behind him and shook his head to himself. In the background, Big Ben struck eleven o'clock. It was time for Peter to head home and report that nothing had happened in London.

But then again, he knew nothing was going to happen in London.

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

The voice nearly gave Peter a heart attack. As he stared at the furious, long haired Animagus making his way toward Peter, a look of terror plastered to his face. Nearly a dozen people stopped to hear the voice, hoping the person being threatened wasn't them.

"Padfoot—"

"DON'T YOU 'PADFOOT' ME, YOU TRAITOR!" The man knocked Peter up against the building. A fist made contact with his jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground. "YOU DON'T EVER HAVE THE RIGHT TO CALL ME THAT AGAIN, DO YOU HEAR ME? EVER!"

"Sirius, please—"

"WHY, PETER?" Sirius screamed, pacing around with his wand flailing about. "WHY WOULD YOU DO SOMETHING SO STUPID LIKE THIS? WE WERE YOUR FRIENDS, WE TRUSTED YOU! JAMES TRUSTED YOU! THEN YOU WENT AND DID SOMETHING AS STUPID AS THIS!"

"You don't understand—"

"Oh, I understand," Sirius' tone dropped to a whisper, pointing his wand portentously. "You decided that power was more important than friendship, so you RATTED OUT YOUR FRIEND!" Sirius shoved Peter. "You BASTARD!"

"You can't call me that anymore!" Peter screamed. Sirius glared at him.

"And why can't I?" He asked, his voice dangerously low.

"Because I now have power you don't have." Peter answered. He made a sudden, quick decision. He pulled out his wand.

"You don't have any power, traitor." Sirius growled. "You killed James and Lily, and you tried to kill Harry." Peter paled.

"Tried?"

"That right!" Sirius barked out a laugh. "My godson is still alive, thank you." He grinned acrimoniously. "And Voldemort disappeared in the process. So much for your power, Peter." Sirius pointed his wand straight at Peter.

"That's not possible." Peter asserted. "It's not."

"It is." Sirius snarled. "And I'll kill you for betraying us."

Peter knew it. He knew Sirius was going to kill him. Or try, at any rate. He shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled out a knife. He held the pocket-knife in one hand and his wand in another.

He waved his wand around his head in a sweeping motion, calling out a number of hexes deigned to kill if used correctly. Then he raked the knife across one of his fingers. He bit into his tongue to keep from crying out.

He could hear Sirius screaming, trying to stop as many curses as he could manage.

"YOU BLOODY COWARD!"

Peter knew he'd sent out at least twenty hexes. As his finger lay bloodied and mangled on the ground he transformed into a rat and scurried off, counting the number of bodies he heard hit the floor, hoping at least one of them was Sirius.

"NO!" Apparently he was still alive.

It didn't matter, anyway. Peter was down a sewer line faster than Sirius could figure out what happened.

XXXXX

Sirius' wand worked endlessly against the bombarding attacks on the wayward Muggles around them. He'd never blocked so many attacks so quickly in his life. He couldn't stop all of them, however. He looked around him, counting thirteen bodies lying still around him.

He looked to where Peter had been, finding only a finger.

"DAMN IT!" He screamed, slamming his fist into the building. "BLOODY COWARD!" He couldn't bear to see any more dead bodies in one night. He closed his eyes and punched the structure next to him some more.

"YOU—YOU—I'LL KILL YOU, YOU BLOODY, YOU EVIL, YOU VILE, YOU LYING—"

"Mister Black!"

Sirius knew it was over when he heard Alastor Moody shouting behind him. He threw his wand away from himself to save them the trouble of trying to fight him.

"Stop!" He called, striving his best to keep his timbre in check. He turned, tallying the number of Aurors sent to find him. There were many. Were they really counting on him being resistant? "I'm unarmed!"

"I'll be the judge of that, Black!" Moody growled. He performed an Anti-Concealment Charm on Sirius. Nothing happened.

"This isn't what you think it is, Alastor." Sirius called.

"For your sake, I hope it isn't." Someone beside Moody—Kingsley, it seemed—answered.

"You're to be escorted to the Ministry of Magic for questioning." Barty Crouch ordered. Sirius nodded, holding his hands in the air.

"All right," He called. "I know the drill." He waited patiently while they constricted his hands behind his back.

"Someone's got to tell Remus where I am." Sirius insisted.

"We will attend to your personal needs when we're sure you're not a threat to any civilians." Barty snapped.

"He doesn't know where I am."

"He can remain in the dark for a little while longer," Barty retorted.

"Bloody hell, Barty, he's going to worry himself to death!" Sirius insisted.

"That's enough, Mister Black." Moody cut in. "We'll get to it in time. If you'll take a moment to look at the time, you'll notice we still have a few hours yet until Mister Lupin becomes… lucid."

Sirius frowned, noting that it wasn't anywhere past eleven thirty. It was going to be a long night.

XXXXX

"Mister Lupin?"

Remus growled angrily, waving his hand limply around the air.

"Remus?"

A soft, wrinkled hand nudged at Remus. He lazily opened his eyes.

"I'm glad you're awake, Remus,"

Remus rubbed his eyes, gingerly sitting up. He hissed as he grazed over wounds from the previous night.

Who was talking to him?

It took him effort, but Remus managed to keep his eyes open toward the light long enough to see an old, bearded, weary-looking man standing over him.

"Good morning, Dumbledore." Remus said before trying to prop himself against the moist wall behind him. He shivered, looking around. "Want to tell me why you're here waking me up so early? It's got to be—"

"Six thirty," Dumbledore gave. "A few minutes after sun rise. I'm sorry to wake you so early, but I'd rather we get this whole business behind us as soon as possible."

"Where's Sirius? He didn't come home last night."

"I need to ask you what happened last night, actually." Dumbledore took a seat on a barrel next to Remus. Remus took a moment to think, to try and clear his head of any haziness left in it.

"Well…." He coughed. "We were trying to get into the cellar last night so I could transform. Before we went in, we spotted the Dark Mark in the sky. I've never seen him look so freaked. I told him to go and come back once he checked the area out." Remus ran a hand through his hair. "But he never came back."

"Hmmm…. Yes," Dumbledore rubbed his chin.

"Dumbledore," Remus became concerned. "Did something happen?"

Dumbledore didn't answer. He rubbed his eyes warily.

"Something did happen, didn't it?" Remus guessed. "Was anyone hurt?"

"Remus," Dumbledore tried to sound as calm and collected as he could. "I don't know how to tell you this…."

Remus' eyes opened widely.

"It's about Sirius, isn't it? Is he okay? He's not hurt, is he?"

"Let me start, please." Dumbledore proposed. He ran a finger nimbly through his beard. "Sirius is, right now, in Azkaban prison."

"WHAT?" Remus tried to stand but was floored by last night's damage. He slumped to the ground and bit into his tongue to keep his voice level. "How could that be? What happened with the Dark Mark? Is he hurt at all? Wh—"

"The Dark Mark was found last night over a house in Godric's Hollow." Dumbledore stated. "A house that until last night belonged to Lily and James Potter."

Remus paused.

"What?" He repeated. "Is Prongs all right?"

A downcast look from Dumbledore told Remus all he needed to know. Remus couldn't stop his eyes from watering, and didn't try to obstruct them from falling down his face.

"They were found last night." Dumbledore looked away. "James was on the first floor, sprawled near the kitchen, and Lily was upstairs in the nursery."

"What about Harry?" Remus asked. Dumbledore smiled sadly.

"Harry was alive, thankfully."

"But, how—"

"I'm not sure, yet. Give me a few hours and I'll have the whole thing sorted out." Dumbledore said. "But I have a theory. Since Lily gave her life to protect her son, he was protected from anything Voldemort had coming to him. That's why—"

"That's why what?" Remus hated being left in the dark.

"Voldemort is gone, Remus." Dumbledore shook his head, standing and holding a hand to Remus. "But I'm getting ahead of myself. Right now we need to worry about Sirius."

"Why is Sirius in Azkaban?" Remus asked, taking the hand and steadily getting to his feet.

"The Potter family was placed under a Secret-Keeper, you remember." Dumbledore started walking out of the cellar, helping Remus as he went.

"Yeah, I remember." Remus interjected.

"And only the Secret-Keeper knows where they live. Voldemort could have shoved his face up against the glass and not seen a thing. The only way he could know where they live is if—"

"Is if the Secret-Keeper told!" Remus hit the ground with his knees. "But Sirius was the Secret-Keeper."

"That's what we were led to believe."

"So…." Remus felt a part of him die. "Sirius was the traitor?"

"It seems that way," Dumbledore shrugged. Remus' heart turned ice-cold. "However, I don't think it's so. Sometime last night Sirius sent his Patronus out to get help for the Potter's. For some reason or another, the Patronus came to me. The way that his voice came out of the wolf, he sounded near to panicking.

"Now, Sirius isn't one to hide or lie about his emotions. He wears them practically on his sleeves. I believe he was on the verge of losing his nerve when he sent the message."

"So you're saying he was the Secret-Keeper, but he isn't the traitor?" Remus grimaced. He was confused.

"That's what we need to find out." Dumbledore pulled Remus back up and continued dragging him. "You're a bit too hurt for side-along Apparation right now, so we're going to have to Floo over."

"Over where?" Remus asked. Dumbledore winked at him, a knowing determination in his eyes.

"Azkaban, of course."

XXXXX

"Can I sit, please?" Sirius asked the Aurors. He blinked droopily. "My feet kind of hurt."

"There's a place to sit in the Questioning Room, Black," Alastor answered. They led him into a small, black square room. A table was in the center of the room, with two chairs on opposite sides.

"Have a seat, Mister Black." Moody insisted. Sirius sat in one of the chairs. "Now, why don't you tell me what happened?"

So Sirius took a deep breath and retold the whole story, starting from the beginning, which was actually a few months ago, when they decided to make Peter the Secret-Keeper. When he'd divulged this fact, Moody raised his eyebrows curiously.

"I'm not lying, Alastor." Sirius pleaded.

"I never said you were, Mister Black." Sirius cringed at the formal name. "Please, continue."

So Sirius went on to tell Moody about moving in with Remus and being depressed for the first few days after James and Lily took Harry into hiding. He got over it after a while, though, on the premises that they were away for their own protection, and a safe James is better than a dead James.

"So this morning after you and I finished talking, Remus and I went about the rest of the day. At around six fifty tonight we went to open the cellar and get Remus into it." Sirius neglected to mention that he had fully intended on staying with him. Not for the fact that Moody didn't know he was an illegal Animagus, but for the fact that he knew this conversation was being recorded. He didn't want to admit to something illegal on tape.

"Then we saw the Dark Mark over the sky. I left Remus in the cellar and began running in the direction of the Mark."

Sirius began to retell what it was like going into the house, totally oblivious to who lived there. He cried when he got to the part where he realized his best friend was dead. When he reached the point where Harry was found underneath the cloak, he was shaking.

"I left Harry with Hagrid," Sirius continued, sniffing and wiping his face with a sleeve. "It made me a nervous wreck to let the boy go. I felt like I was abandoning him, but I trust Hagrid, and he said Dumbledore told him to bring Harry to him. So I made Hagrid promise to tell Dumbledore to take Harry to St. Mungo's, and I let him go."

Then he started at the time when he confronted Peter, and he instantly became angry. He set off talking about how angry Peter made him, how furious he'd been at himself for not realizing that his friend would betray everyone.

"And that's when you guys came." Sirius ended. "You've got to believe me, Alastor. I'm innocent."

Moody stayed silent, rubbing his chin subconsciously. He frowned.

"I'll be right back." Moody stood. He stared at the completely ashen face in front of him. Then he turned and left.

Sirius raked his hands through his hair. He glanced at the clock in the room. It was only one in the morning. Remus still had another five hours of lycanthropy left in him.

Poor Remus. He knew the man would be confused when he got up. Sirius had never come back to him. And he probably would never come back to him. He was going to Azkaban for a crime he didn'tcommit.

Suddenly the door opened and Dumbledore came sweeping into the room, followed closely by Kingsley, the Minister of Magic—Cornelius Fudge, and Moody. Sirius bowed his head in acknowledgement.

"Sirius," Dumbledore said. His tone was very friendly. Sirius narrowed his eyes.

"Yes, Dumbledore?" He asked.

"We wish to test out a new method of testimony." Kingsley started. "And since you're the first one we caught since we thought it up…."

"You want me to play guinea pig." Sirius finished. Dumbledore smirked.

"I assure you it will be completely painless, and if it works, we can prove you are either innocent or guilty." He informed. Sirius folded his fingers together.

"I rather like the sound of this method." He said. "What's it about?"

"It's called the Pensieve Test." Moody answered. "And you can rather tell what it's about from the name."

Sirius grinned.

"That's bloody brilliant."

"Yes, quite." Dumbledore smirked.

"Now, there are a few drawbacks," The Minister held up a hand. "You are to give us every memory you think is possibly related to the matter. Every single spot where you even mentioned something about Secret-Keeping. If we have questions about these, you're to pull out more memories until we're satisfied."

"All right," Sirius agreed. He had nothing whatsoever to hide. He hadn't become Padfoot since the last full moon, and even then he'd had nothing to do with the whole Secret-Keeping business so he didn't need to include that tidbit in at all. "Let's get started."

"Hold your hippogriffs, boy." Moody snarled. "There's one big drawback the Minister failed to mention."

"It can't be that bad," Sirius admitted. "What is it?"

"You have to stay in Azkaban while we search your memories."

Sirius froze. He'd seen Dementors before and they were horrible things. Even thinking about Dementors made him want to shrivel up and die.

"Sorry, boy, it's just a precaution so you'll be sure to give us all the necessary memories the first time around." Moody explained.

"How long does it take?" Sirius nervously asked.

"On a process spanning over two or three months…." Kingsley folded his arms in thought. "Six hours. Maybe five."

Six hours in Azkaban.

That was even if he gave them all the right memories the first time.

"All right," He accepted. "But I want to talk to Dumbledore before I do this. Alone."

Dumbledore nodded and the other three moved to leave.

"Call us back in when you're ready to begin," Kingsley called just before closing the door.

"What is it you wanted to talk to me about?" Dumbledore asked.

"Where's Harry?" Dumbledore stared warily at Sirius. "I'm worried sick. Please, just tell me where my godson is."

"Hmmm…." Dumbledore frowned in thought. "Harry is in St. Mungo's, like you practically begged Hagrid to ask me to do. I have to admit, I too was concerned about the boy's health from such a shock."

"And Remus?"

Once again Dumbledore stayed silent, trying to size up Sirius.

"Sir, tonight's the full moon. I told him I was coming back after I saw the Dark Mark in the sky." Sirius pleaded. "I realize I'm not going to be able to make it, for obvious reasons. But he can't just wake up by himself and not know what's going on. It's not fair to him. Please, when the morning comes, will you go to him and explain?"

Abruptly a huge smile broke onto Dumbledore's face, and Sirius wondered what he said that was so great.

"I will." He nodded, shaking Sirius' hand. "Is that all you required of me?"

"Yeah, I think that was it." Sirius sighed.

"Then I think we'd better get this over with, hmmm?" Dumbledore opened the door for Sirius to go through. "But first, let's get you something to drink."

XXXXX

He gave them everything. Starting when Dumbledore introduced the idea of Secret-Keeping up to the last night's events regarding the matter. He gave it all.

And what did he get for his bloody sacrifice? Six hours in the darkest, dankest, most unhappy place on Earth.

It was also one of the more silent places on Earth. On the outside it looked like people were screaming but in reality you could hear none of it. It was almost like your screaming was only in your head. The only thing you knew was you were in Azkaban and you were never getting out; nothing else seemed to matter, not even the noise.

He lay on the floor in his cell, whimpering. He couldn't stand it, and he'd only been there one, maybe two hours. His left side was numb; he'd been lying on it for most of his time there. The cold, hard floor stung at his bare skin where it showed, and he was sure there would be a few frost-bitten places if he had the strength to move and find out.

He choked down a sob of despair as a Dementor came close to the cell. He was never going to see Remus again. The werewolf was as good as abandoned. No one would ever find him innocent of the deeds Peter had done. He was going to be stuck in this god-forsaken hell hole for the rest of his life.

He hadn't eaten since dinner, which had been served earlier than usual because of the full moon. He hadn't eaten in over seven hours, but his stomach protested like he hadn't seen food in years.

He was never going to eat again. This place was going to be the death of him. He would never see the light of another beautiful day. He would never get to watch Harry grow up. He was already as good as dead. There was nothing left for him to do in life.

The Dementor next to his cell pulled away for a moment, allowing a happy thought or two to trickle through his conscience.

On the up hand of things, he loved Remus. He totally, completely, and wholly loved the gorgeous lycanthrope. Nothing in the world could make Sirius doubt that love, especially now that the traitor had been found out, if only by one person. He could survive off of this happy thought—

And just as quickly as the Dementor moved away, it swarmed back and sucked the happy thought straight out of Sirius' head.

Remus probably hated him now. Everyone probably hated him. They didn't know he wasn't the Secret-Keeper. They wouldn't understand because they wouldn't believe him. Remus was going to leave him alone, and Remus was going to break his heart. He couldn't stand the thought.

Sirius curled up into a small ball and sobbed, trying desperately to catch the sleep that evaded his grasp.

His eyes were jerked open as pain surged through his body, coursed throughout his veins and into his subconscious mind. He gasped loudly, sitting up. A Dementor had walked by, reaching its hand out and slapping it across his ankle, which hung a bit too close to the door of the place for the Dementor's liking. Sirius shrank back into the chamber, grasping his ankle and inspecting the damage.

His ankle was turning blue where the Dementor's hand touched it. It looked like a huge imprint of the hand, bruised into his ankle.

It would never heal. Sirius would more than likely have to have his foot lobbed off for it.

Ha. Could you imagine it? A three-footed Animagus-dog wandering around with a werewolf.

If the werewolf still loved him, which he probably didn't.

He didn't know what time it was. There was no clock anywhere in the room he was stuck in. He had probably been in the cell for years and no one had come to get him. They'd forgotten about him completely; thrown him out of their lives like his family had. They realized he was guilty—even though he wasn't—and they decided not to even bother with a test. They just went ahead and let him stay inside the cells of Azkaban, forever dying but living, always despairing to the point of insanity but not being able to break.

A loud clang scared all of the prisoners into screeching, including Sirius.

"MOVE AWAY, YOU WAND-FEARING BEASTS!"

Sirius knew that voice. It was Moody. He was coming to tell Sirius that he was an irresponsible git, that he was guilty and never going to see Remus or the light of day again.

"Get up, you irresponsible git," Moody spelled Sirius' cage open. "You're being let go."

"W-What?" Sirius felt warmth pass over him as the Dementors were chased farther down the hallway.

"We're done with your memories, Sirius." Moody explained, helping Sirius stand on his own two feet. "And we're convinced you are telling the truth."

"How-How are you done with my memories?" Sirius' knees knocked together as the snug, happy memories that had been held captive for so long were being returned to his person. "I've only been in here—"

"You fell asleep; you've been in here near on seven hours." Moody whispered. "You pulled out so many memories; we ended up splitting up just to find the relevant ones." He cackled haughtily. He leaned in closely to Sirius and kept his tone low. "The drink Dumbledore gave you had a sedative in it to make you sleep after a few hours."

Sirius blinked.

"You mean you believed me?"

"Of course I believed you, you ponce. I know you. You can't hold that straight a face and go through that many emotions with one story if you're lying." Moody insisted. He put a hand in the small of Sirius' back, pushing him toward the exit. "But this way you're name's cleared without a trial."

Sirius limped toward the way out, trying to keep weight off of his hurt ankle.

"That foot of yours will need attending to," Moody said carelessly. "On your way to pick up Harry you should get a Healer to look at that."

"Pick up—"

"You are his godfather, aren't you?" Moody reminded him. Sirius nodded.

"I am," He seemed incredibly happy to admit the fact. "I'm his godfather."

The outside of Azkaban was as bleak as the inside. The actual prison was sitting atop a huge rock in the middle of a large lake. The waves crashed around it stormily as if they would swallow up the whole penitentiary.

"How are we getting off here, Alastor?" Sirius asked.

"Wait for it," Moody answered. He squinted, suddenly smirking. "There it is."

Coming swiftly toward Azkaban was a large, black blob. Sirius strained to see what it really was. When he saw it, he was a bit surprised.

A large, iron ship was coming toward them.

XXXXX

"Why are we here?" Remus crossed his arms angrily, shivering through his dark-blue jacket. The wind blew harshly around them, signaling the start of a new month and the cold airs of winter. "There's nothing here!"

"Patience, Remus." Dumbledore held up a finger.

The two men were standing at the beginning a dock, looking out into a rather large lake. As far as Remus could see, there was nothing there to be interested in.

"Why would you say we're going to Azkaban and then take me here?" Remus asked, his tone huffy. His eyes were wide and apprehensive, and the golden glare of the werewolf hadn't left him yet. "This doesn't look like much of anything!"

"One of the similarities I find that you and your fellow housemate share, Remus," Dumbledore said tersely. "Is that you're both incredibly impatient and irritable when it comes to the other."

Remus sighed, almost doing a double-take when he registered what his old Headmaster said.

"Sirius asked about me?"

This statement caused Dumbledore to laugh. The twinkle in his eyes intensified.

"The man wouldn't stop talking about you when the Aurors caught him, Alastor informed me." He said between chuckles. Remus' heart lifted. "He refused to go anywhere until Alastor told him you would be informed about his whereabouts and what was going on. And then when I got to him, he wouldn't leave until I promised to be there when you woke up."

Sirius had been worried about him. Sirius had actually been scared of what was going to happen to him. Tears were brought to Remus' eyes.

"So where is he?" He asked quietly.

"Azkaban is a prison on a rock, surrounded by the sea," Dumbledore finally explained, standing on his tip-toes and squinting at the sun-lit horizon. He smirked finally, coming back onto his feet. "And that ship right there has who we're looking for."

Remus watched the large, metal vessel as it charged forward, seeming as though it would slam into the dock he was standing on and smash it to pieces. His throat closed up as the craft slowed to a stop and opened up its door. A large ramp slid out from it, making contact with the wooden wharf. And then, before Remus could even blink, a tall, worn-out Animagus was staring down at him from the top of the ramp.

Remus thought Siriuslooked like he was the werewolf. His normally long, slick, beautifully black hair was frilled; tresses stretched out to his mid arm and curled at the bottom. A small lock of his hair stuck out in the back, the dirt and grime alone making it almost stand on end.

The rest of his figure wasn't so great, either. He was filthy; Remus couldn't see a clean spot on him. His poor jacket was wrinkled and a pants leg was rolled up, keeping off of a large, purple bruise.

Apparently, Sirius hadn't known that Remus was coming to meet him, because he opened his mouth, gaping at what he saw.

"Remus?" He called, almost in disbelief.

Remus, bogged down from the previous night's activity, legs cut and worn out, broke into a run.

Sirius started running, too. Ignoring the pain in his ankle as he put all his weight on it, he bolted down the ramp and collided into Remus.

Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius' shoulders, pulling the man into a tight hug. He let out a sob, burying his nose in the Sirius' neck.

Sirius returned the embrace with just as much fervor, and then some. He closed his eyes, pressing a hand to Remus' head and pressing him closer still. He breathed in the scent that had long been forgotten in the horrible realm of Azkaban prison; he smelled the aroma he'd longed to remember. He smelled Remus. Bloodied, tired, worried, morning-after-the-full-moon Remus.

"What are you doing up this early?" Sirius scolded. "You should be in bed, what if you get sick? You could—"

"Shut up!" Remus rebuked him, sobbing still. "You don't get to be mad at me, you idiot." Remus grappled at Sirius' jacket, trying to get a good grip. The thought of almost losing Sirius was still too fresh in his mind. "You idiot, you moron, you thick, dense, witless simpleton!"

Remus took a shaking breath before continuing with his verbal abuse.

"You have me worrying sick about you for two hours after I wake up and when I finally find you, you start chewing me out for not being in bed? You're the reason I'm not in bed! You idiot!"

Sirius chuckled, a full-out laughter ringing through his very being. He ran a hand through Remus' gritty hair, smiling. His first real smile in hours.

"I'm okay," Sirius reassured the man, because that's what he knew would calm Remus down. In reality, he was a nervous wreck still, and couldn't stop his body from shaking. He hoped Remus was too absorbed in him to notice.

"You liar." Apparently he wasn't. "You're shivering. You're got a bruise the size of my hand on your ankle," Suddenly Remus pushed Sirius to arm's length. "And you smell."

"Well, you would too if you spent all hours in Azkaban after a night of terrible deeds taking place." Sirius caught Remus' chin with his hands and studied the werewolf's worried amber eyes.

"Last night…." Remus closed his eyes, dreading the answer to his question. "Is it true? Are Lily and James really…." He couldn't even finish the sentence.

Sirius swallowed, looking away for a moment.

"It's true," He finally answered. Remus cried out, collapsing into Sirius' arms again. "I followed the Dark Mark in the sky to a house in Godric's Hollow. The door was unlocked, so I went inside." He took a shuddering lungful of air. "They were gone by the time I got there."

Remus' shoulders were quaking.

"But—how—you're the Secret-Keeper, so how—"

"There was a switch at the last second," Sirius explained before Remus could finish. "We thought it would be less likely that people would think Peter was the Secret-Keeper than me."

Remus' muscles tensed and he jerked away from Sirius, fury in his eyes.

"I'll kill him!"

"That's what I tried to do." Sirius smirked. He glanced at the sky, where the sun was still coming into the horizon. He clasped Remus' hand in his own and began limping down the pier, to where Dumbledore stood waiting with a glimmer of a smile.

"I'll explain the rest of last night at St. Mungo's." Sirius decided. "When we're picking up Harry."

"Harry?"

"Did Dumbledore not tell you?" Sirius' voice took on a happier tone as he gently squeezed Remus' hand. "Harry survived the attack! And I'm his godfather. So, since his parents are…." He couldn't say the frightening four-letter word.

Remus stopped walking, freezing on the spot. His eyebrow twitched at the sudden guilt that came over him.

"Love?" Sirius waved a concerned hand in front of Remus' face. "Moony, what is it?"

"Sirius," Remus stammered. "I wanted a child, but not like this,"

Sirius enveloped Remus in another squeeze, wrapping his arms around the werewolf.

"I know, Moony." He started. "I didn't want it like this, either. But we have to think of Harry now; and the promise I made to his parents to raise him if anything happened. We can still adopt someone, later, once we get things settled." He smiled, pressing his lips to Remus' neck. "But we might have our hands full with a mini-James."

Remus laughed feebly, still trying to take in what happened.

As Sirius dragged Remus down to the end of the dock and jumped at Dumbledore, strangely thanking the old man for "the best damn drink he'd ever had", the werewolf got to thinking. How was it that so much had happened in twenty four hours? He seemed unable to convince himself that at that time yesterday morning, he'd been in bed with Sirius, wrapped up tightly in the Animagus, discussing a topic which now—if brought up this day—would seem unimportant and a little waste of time.

He also mulled over the way things had turned out when they were seated in the soft, white chairs inside St. Mungo's, waiting for any word on how Harry was doing. Sirius had his hand clutched in Remus', slightly shaking in anticipation. Remus rubbed his thumb lightly across Sirius' hand, reassuring him every now and again that the werewolf wasn't going anywhere.

Remus felt a pang of ironic guilt run through him. Had it only been twenty four hours since he and Sirius had discussed having a child of their own? Was it not a bit paradoxical that the very night in which they'd conferred on such things, their only friends with a child ended up—well, gone—and left himself and Sirius with their one-year old?

It was a bit cruel, Remus decided, for Fate to do something so forbidding. This he thought while the nurse came out and mended Sirius' foot, informing the worried godfather about how wonderful Harry had been doing. He watched Sirius leap up from the chair, realizing seconds too late that he was walking away and hadn't let up in the fierce grip he had on the werewolf's hand. Remus was dragged up with his lover, hauled through a door. He saw Harry, sitting up in the large crib made for small children who were patients in the hospital.

"Oh, thank Merlin!" Sirius sighed with relief. "He's all right,"

"Silli!" Harry giggled merrily before stuffing his fist into his mouth and sucking on it.

Remus crouched down, level with Harry, studying the content face now staring into his tired eyes. The vibrant green eyes screamed Lily, while the rest of his face showed nothing but James. He was truly a Potter.

A large white patch lay on top of his forehead, which would have worried Remus had Sirius not explained what was underneath before he came in. Supposedly, there was a lightning-shaped scar on his head where the bit lay.

"Woof!" Harry pulled his fist out of his mouth and barked loudly and happily. Remus' eyes widened, and he felt his muscles stiffen. It was as if the boy already knew of his "furry little problem". Maybe his father had tipped him off. Harry looked like the one who wouldn't—or couldn't—tell secrets. Sirius laughed.

"What'd I tell you? Smartest kid in the world, he is." Remus noted that Sirius was taking on the "proud father" role already.

Yes, Remus observed as Sirius picked up the small child and carried him out of the room, into the nearest child-safe Floo fireplace and back to their lovely home near Godric's Hollow, sometimes life was ironically vindictive. One moment you were lying in bed with the one you love, talking of things that—at the moment—seem very significant. The next instant you were walking home in your dusty jacket, grimy hair and scraped-up body, holding your best friend's child, fully intent on raising the adolescent yourself.

Sometimes, he speculated, Fate just deems to give people's existence a swift kick in the rear. At times, the very meaning of life becomes so exceedingly tedious that Fate has nothing better to do than to cut a piece of someone's life up and shove another's into it.

These were one of his final thoughts as he laid Harry down on the bed in between himself and Sirius, closing his eyes and trying to sleep. Showers could come later, he and Sirius had agreed. He marveled at the thought of what lay before him. Three misfits—one werewolf, one outcast, and one orphan—were now going to live together under one roof. Help each other, tolerate one another, and learn from everything Fate threw at them.

Because that's what you had to do, Remus decided seconds before he fell asleep with his hands satisfactorily entwined in Sirius'. You had to roll with the punches. Sometimes you just had to go with the flow. More often than not, you had to take a deep breath, suck in your gut and live your life like nothing really changed.

Sometimes, you just had to play the cards Fate dealt you.

XXXXX

Wow…. Thirty four pages…. That's a lot.

At the end it seemed to be more about Remus than about Sirius, but I was never one to just focus on one point of view, if you've ever read any of my otherone-shot RLSB fics.

This is sort of celebrating the coming of school again. It also celebrates the fact that I finally finished reading the God-awful books the English teacher set for us over the summer. Just when you think school can't get any more politically correct….

But that's just me griping. I know this isn't my usual caliber of writing, and it's definitely not Marauder era. But I like it all the same.

So please, leave a nice review, maybe telling me what I could have improved on, since I always have to improve something. The only thing I'm a perfectionist in is my writing.

I realize Verisaterum would have worked as well as the Penseive, but I thought that they might ask him if he'd ever done anything incriminating, and he'd tell them about the illegal Animagus thing and he'd be screwed anyway. Besides, Aurors could have built up their own immunities to the stuff. Lol.

So please review, and have a good new school year! Go sophomores!

The Ministry sucks. Badly. They aren't smart enough to take what awesome resources they have and use them to find the liars out of the truthful people. Since I am not an idiot—nor do I suck like the Ministry of Magic—I couldn't have created the wonderful world. Therefore I'm NOT Rowling herself, and if I was, Sirius would NOT have died by a tapestry hanging from an arch in the middle of a room. Remus would NOT have married Tonks ((hiss)), and dear LORD there would NOT be one-big-happy-Weasly-family. Something about that just irks me. It's probably Molly. I don't like her.

Flames will be posted on MySpace blogs and laughed at in general. Constructive criticism will be worshipped. Any overall reviews will be thanked for and appreciated. Have a good day!

Amme Moto