Seven months later

Sirius stared at the family tapestry. It had been a source of pride for his parents and Regulus, but he'd never understood the appeal. To him, it had been nothing more than an expensive, stuffy wall hanging. Only when his name had been burned off it had he realised how the reason he was so dismissive of it was because he'd always taken it for granted that he would be on there.

Perhaps, if he'd toed the line a little bit more, things would have been different now. He still would have rebelled eventually, but would he have known his cousins better? Would he have known where Bellatrix would hide an object that was important to her?

The past few months had been earth-shattering. Sirius had always been concerned about Harry's safety, but now that Voldemort had returned, there was a newfound urgency. Dumbledore had appointed a French wizard renowned for his fighting skills to the post of DADA professor, and he'd started mentoring Harry to prepare him for the war ahead.

Harry, bless him, had told Sirius everything.

It had been horrifying. Voldemort had Horcruxes — evil objects that housed pieces of his soul. As long as they existed, then no matter how many times he was killed, he would always come back.

Sirius didn't know how long Dumbledore had known, but it was incomprehensible to him that he'd told Harry but hadn't told any of the Order. Yes, Harry deserved to know, but Sirius and the other Order members were the ones with the power to do something about this.

Upon hearing about it from Harry, Sirius had gone directly to several of his friends from the Order. While he knew the importance of keeping secrets under wraps, he also knew just how easily secret plans could backfire. If he was going to help ease Harry's burden, it wasn't going to be through an excess of subterfuge.

Together, they were working to track down and destroy all of the foul things. With any luck, by the time Harry finished school, there would be nothing left for him to do — with, perhaps, the exception of striking the final blow against Voldemort.

'Sirius?'

He turned at the sound of Remus' voice from the doorway — loud enough to be heard, but quiet enough that his mother's portrait wouldn't stir. 'Did you get the book?'

Remus held up a large pouch. Black apart from the barest hint of a green sheen, it was unmistakably magical in its design. Dragonskin. Nothing would be able to damage its contents; nor would its contents be able to damage it. 'I've got it here.'

'Excellent.' The library at Grimmauld Place had contained a volume on Horcruxes, but it hadn't touched on how to destroy them. It had, however, referenced a few other volumes, all of which Remus had ordered from the bookstore under different pseudonyms to avoid attracting attention. The first of them had arrived the day before.

Hopefully, one of them would contain the answers they needed.

'I've been thinking,' Remus said, placing the bag on the table and sinking into a nearby armchair, 'and I think you should appeal the court's decision.'

Sirius scoffed. 'Nobody's going to believe I'm innocent.'

'I wouldn't be so certain. The general public is questioning a lot of things nowadays, and it won't hurt that you haven't gone to Voldemort's side.'

'Dumbledore thinks I should wait until the war is over.'

'What if we lose?' Remus asked. 'Do you really want to be a fugitive for the rest of your life, stuck here until you die?'

No. No, Sirius didn't. Even just the thought of it was vile.

'James wouldn't have wanted you to wait,' Remus added quietly, putting the final nail into the coffin of Sirius' hesitation.

'You're right.' When James and Lily had chosen Sirius as Harry's godfather, James had pulled him aside to say that it wasn't just out of friendship. It was because they knew that if Harry ever needed anything, no matter what it was, Sirius would have given his last breath to give it to him.

He'd thought that was what he was doing by staying cooped up in Grimmauld Place. Harry needed him, alive and close, and that meant he couldn't hole up in some backwater town somewhere. Staying in his childhood home had been the only way to be close enough to help Harry without alerting the Ministry to his whereabouts.

It had clearly been what everyone else thought he should be doing, too. Every time he'd tried to leave for a mission or to see Harry, the others had berated him, accusing him of being careless with his safety and theirs.

They were right in a way, but it had blinded him to the possibility of a third option.

Perhaps that wasn't what Harry needed after all. Maybe, at the end of the day, it was continued self-flagellation at his inability to save James and Lily.

What if what Harry really needed was for him to be declared innocent? What if what he required wasn't for Sirius to give his last breath, but to take more of them?

'You're right,' Sirius repeated. 'I need to clear my name.'

-x-

Two years later

The Burrow's garden had been transformed for the wedding to the point that Ron found it hard to recognise it. It was an elaborate affair — a celebration not only of Bill and Fleur's marriage, but of the end of the war.

Just several short weeks before, Voldemort had been defeated. It had been tough, and they'd lost good people in the process. But they had destroyed his Horcruxes, and he had been killed for what they hoped would be the last time.

Since then, they had thrown all their efforts into preparing for today. It had been hard to do so when all he'd wanted was to rest for a lifetime, but watching Bill and Fleur move around the empty dance floor, Ron knew it was worth it.

Even in the midst of despair, friendship and love flourished. Even when surrounded by death, life bloomed.

Ron had been feeling sentimental lately. Something about facing insurmountable odds and coming out the other side triumphant tended to bring that out in him.

Accidentally catching his great-aunt's eye across the room, he smiled briefly before turning back to his table. Fortunately, he'd been assigned to sit with Harry, Ginny, Hermione, Viktor, Sirius, Remus, and Tonks. Not only was he enjoying their company, but he'd been able to avoid his more outrageous relatives so far. His Great-Aunt Muriel was one of the few people who were still sceptical about Sirius' innocence.

The slow music of the first dance faded and was replaced by a jazzier waltz. First Remus and Tonks, then Hermione and Viktor, then finally Harry and Ginny left to join the other couples as they swayed back and forth to the beat.

Left alone with Sirius, a flash of envy ran through him. His closest friends were both in relationships — even Neville had started dating a Ravenclaw named Luna from the year below them. While the couples were all fairly new, Hermione and Viktor had been writing to one another for years, and it was clear that Harry and Ginny both thought the other was the best thing ever.

Meanwhile, Ron was alone, single after his brief fling with Lavender fizzled out last year.

Typical. Of course, out of the four of them, he was the only one who wasn't in a relationship. Why was it always him? Why was it never Harry or Hermione?

But he quickly stamped down on that bitter line of thought. It wasn't entirely true; he had things they didn't, like a large family, a childhood home in the country... And while he wasn't as clever as Hermione or as resourceful as Harry, he was a better strategist than both of them combined.

Besides, if there was one thing he'd learnt from the Triwizard Tournament, it was that envy created more problems than it was worth. He had been so obsessed with what he didn't have — fame, money, success — that he'd almost lost what he did — friendship, support, a strong sense of morality.

Ron refused to let himself go down that path again. He would far rather be single and have his friends than have neither.

'I don't know what you lot will do with yourselves now,' Sirius said, grinning at him from across the table. 'How will you stay occupied without the constant danger of Voldemort hanging over your heads?'

Distracted, Ron laughed. 'We'll work something out.'

After all, they always did. If a year of drudgery was their next challenge, they would find a way through it as surely as they'd found a way through all of Voldemort's machinations.

But somehow, he doubted they would need to. There was something about Hogwarts that just didn't lend itself to being boring or safe. 'Anyway, it wasn't all him, really. Norberta and Aragog were there because of Hagrid. He'll still be around and looking to bring dangerous magical creatures onto the grounds. And we don't know who our next DADA professor will be, either. Who knows what trouble they'll bring or why they'll leave?'

Sirius looked quite pleased at the idea that their mischief-making days weren't yet over.

Ron smothered a chuckle. Despite everything Sirius had done for Harry over the years, it was still hard to think of him as an adult, especially when he got that look in his eye.

Proving Ron right, Sirius lowered his voice. 'If things ever do get dull, send an owl my way and I can give you some ideas. Just don't tell Remus; he thinks I should set a better example for you three.'

Yes, the war had been tough, and they were all still processing how many people had died along the way. And yes, this year was going to be different for all of them in so many ways.

But in the long run, Ron thought everything was going to turn out alright.