A/N: Dedicated to Shadowcat, for lots of feedback and vocal appreciation. I hope you like the ending. And, yes, Blake's "The Tiger" is precisely where the chapter title "Tiger, Tiger Burning Bright" came from. Being a cat person, I'm convinced Sirius just needs a little push to find his inner feline.

Akhuna: Did you ever see the Disney movie "The Sword and the Stone"? Merlin and a witch have a duel of sorts where they each keep changing into different life forms. I like to think that there is a branch of higher magic in JKR's world that would let accomplished wizards achieve the same thing.

Free

Sirius woke with a yawn. The muscles in his arms and upper back screeched in protest as he rolled over. He thumped into something solid sitting on the other side of the bed, which said, "Good morning."

"Remus!" Sirius flailed upright through the tangled bedclothes to embrace his lover, ignoring his aching body and nearly upsetting Remus' tea. "When did you get here?"

Remus wrapped his free arm around Sirius to pull him even closer and kissed him firmly on the mouth. "Last night. Dumbledore contacted me at Headquarters and I portkeyed here with Mad-Eye. Albus called Minerva and Severus to join us and then he gave them a rather minimal explanation of your return back through the Veil."

He tousled Sirius' hair affectionately. "Mad-Eye and Minerva were overjoyed. They wanted to burst in to see you, but Albus told them that you were exhausted and in a very deep sleep. Which was quite true. When I got into bed, you were sprawled across the mattress and wouldn't budge an inch. I finally had to shove you over to give myself some room, and all I got in response was an irritated grunt."

Sirius' eyes narrowed at him. "You neglected to mention how Snape leapt about the room in a joyous and effervescent frenzy when given the news."

"Well, no, but there was quite an impressive display of nostril flaring. I'm not sure if the mere thought of you brought that on, or if he disapproved of the others' enthusiasm. Perhaps he realized that Albus wasn't telling the entire story."

His expression became thoughtful. "You know, his ability to keep a completely straight face in spite of extreme provocation must have often preserved his life when he was a spy."

"How very fortunate for us all. Let's hope that the sight of me won't make him run screaming back to his dungeons to poison himself."

Remus' lips twitched at the acerbic tone. "I wish you'd both try to remember that you're on the same side. You'll have to put off sniping at each other for the time being. Today is all about getting information from our prisoner."

"How will Albus explain Wormtail's capture to all of the people he's invited today?"

"It's common knowledge that Dumbledore has odd spies and peculiar allies in all sorts of unexpected places," Remus shrugged. "I imagine he'll say something Dumbledorian, we'll all nod wisely even though we haven't a clue what he's talking about, and that will be the end of it. Snape will undoubtedly figure it out. He knows a Polyanimagus potion was concocted and he knows it wasn't for Minerva. I'm sure he'll suspect that you're the hawk who delivered Wormtail."

"Can I Obliviate him?"

"NO! He won't say a word about this to anyone, and certainly not to any Death Eaters. Although I'm sure he'll drop hints to us to show he's fully aware of what you've done and that we shouldn't dare to think that we've outsmarted him. Besides, even if the Death Eaters get wind of this new talent of yours, do you really think they'll kill any animal that crosses their paths?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't they blast every dog, cat or bird they see into bloody bits? They show no compunction at murder."

"Well, then, since you trust Snape so little, you'll just have to try to keep him guessing, won't you?"

Sirius grinned somewhat evilly.

With an exasperated groan, Remus rose from the bed and walked towards the door. "I've got to go join the group that will question Peter. You should get dressed. Albus will call you in at some point."

"Remus."

Hearing a marked change of tone, Remus paused. Several expressions flitted across Sirius' face too quickly for him to read.

"Yes, Sirius?"

"Last night I had a dream. A boy…You were…Never mind. I'll tell you some other time. I've got to get dressed."

Remus nodded and left, somewhat reluctantly. The dream was obviously far removed from Snape. No doubt Sirius would ambush him with it later.

Sirius slowly donned his clothes and strode out of the bedroom to find another bountiful display of food set out for him. He didn't feel very much like eating but neither did he want to face the wrath of Dobby two days in a row.

The clock ticked as Sirius picked at his eggs and crumbled his bacon and shredded his toast. How could he eat, when the key to his freedom was being grilled several rooms away? He started pacing, teeth worrying at his lower lip. What was going on? What was Wormtail saying?

He jumped when the door opened. Remus stood framed in the doorway. Sirius went very still.

"Well? What has he said?"

Remus smiled grimly. "He hasn't changed. He started pleading and bargaining as soon as his connection with Bellatrix came up. He offered to tell them everything he knows about Voldemort's plans in return for a more lenient sentence."

"They don't have to bargain with him. They can use Veritaserum to get what they want."

"Which Dumbledore gently reminded him. The mere fact that Peter is alive and obviously allied with Voldemort, combined with what Harry's evidence about the murder of Cedric Diggory, puts him into a tight spot. What Albus demanded was the whole story about the Potters, the Secret-Keeper switch, and Wormtail's betrayal. And he got it. Come on."

Sirius heard Peter's voice quavering in supplication as they stopped outside Dumbledore's office. A booming female tone interrupted. "I do not pass judgment, Mr. Pettigrew. Save your pleas for your trial, although it won't do you much good now that you've admitted committing the crimes that sent Sirius Black to Azkaban."

"I didn't mean to do it." The plaintive tone struck a note so utterly false that it made Sirius wonder if any thinking human could fall for it. "But, Sirius was crazed. A madman. He was always unpredictable when he was in a fury. I just wanted to get away from him. I never thought that everyone would think he was the traitor."

Sirius' lip curled in a silent snarl. He reached for the doorknob, but paused when he heard Peter's insincere words continue. "You have my deepest sympathies, Harry, on your loss."

"My parents died years ago because of your treachery," Harry snapped. "It's a little late for sympathy."

"Oh, no! I meant Sirius. How hard it must be to have lost him, too!"

There was a surprised murmur of voices that diminished when Peter continued. "I heard about what happened at the Department of Mysteries."

The murmurs got louder as other voices broke in. "What? Black was there, too?"

"Albus, you've never mentioned this!"

"Black was in the Death Room?"

"Quiet, please!" The booming woman said sharply. "Mr. Pettigrew, do you have proof Mr. Black took part in that fight last June?"

"Bellatrix told me that Sirius came charging in, ready to play the hero again." Peter sounded almost jaunty, now that he had imparted this startling news. "It's typical, really. He was congenitally incapable of staying on the sidelines. He always had to be in the center of things. Always wanting attention. Always showing off. I guess his dueling skills were too rusty for him to take on someone like Bellatrix. Or maybe he underestimated her. He's made that mistake before."

Peter's tone turned dolorous with over-played sympathy. "I am truly sorry, Harry."

Sirius had heard enough. He flung open the door.

"What are you on about?" he growled at Peter as he stalked into the room. Harry's scowl brightened into a wide grin at the sight of his godfather.

Several people gasped. Peter yelped in shock, his watery eyes bulging in his face. "You! You can't! Bellatrix…She killed you! You're dead!"

Sirius' lupine smile stopped the little man's babbling. "You've known since your first year at Hogwarts that Bellatrix stretches the truth when it suits her. Or perhaps the story she told you was just a wishful fantasy bubbling around inside her warped, little brain. All those years in Azkaban may have altered her perception of reality. The Dementors are not the kindest of jailers, you know."

Peter could only shake his head, as if the motion would chase away the all-too-real vision of the dead man confronting him.

"Headmaster Dumbledore!" A broad, gray-haired witch wearing a monocle strode between the two men. "Have you been sheltering Mr. Black, even though he is wanted by the Ministry?"

The old wizard's expression was as serene as the soothing sky blue of his robes. "Yes, of course. Since the sentence of the Dementor's Kiss still hung over his head, I considered it prudent to give him a safe haven until such time as evidence of his innocence could be produced."

The witch's glance bounced from Dumbledore to Sirius to Remus to Harry and back. "I imagine a number of people knew of Mr. Black's whereabouts."

Sirius said nothing and tried to ignore the stares and mutterings of the other people in the room. The witch strode to the Headmaster's desk and rummaged through a file of papers. "Mr. Black, as Headmaster Dumbledore has no doubt informed you, I am Amelia Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

She fished out a sheet of parchment. "I pulled some of the relevant documents from your file prior to coming here. I saw that at the time of your arrest your wand was never tested for Priori Incantatem. Ash, nine inches, dragon heartstring core, correct?"

"No." Sirius glanced at Remus and saw his own surprise reflected on Remus' face.

"No?" Madame Bones said sharply.

Sirius shook his head. "Ebony, eleven inches, dragon heartstring. Worm- uh, Pettigrew once had a wand made of ash. Check Ollivander's records, if you wish."

"In all these years no one discovered we've had the wrong wand?" Alastor Moody barked from where he sat in the corner. "I was told at the time of Black's imprisonment that his wand had been tested."

His fake eye whirled dizzyingly in its socket, flashing across the assembled group until finally coming to rest on Bones. "The original evidence was obviously mishandled. The whole case against Black sounds like a complete cock-up from the start. Unless, maybe, Pettigrew wasn't the only person trying to hide his tracks that day."

Madame Bones aimed her monocle and the full force of her authoritative demeanor on the old Auror. "Let's not go hatching conspiracy theories, Alastor. I agree that the Ministry's case against Mr. Black is completely undermined by what we've seen and heard today. Whether or not anyone other than Mr. Pettigrew sought to frame him remains to be seen. However, I'm convinced that there was a gross miscarriage of justice."

She turned to Sirius. "I am lifting the sentence of the Dementor's Kiss and removing the offer of bounty for your capture immediately. I'm also rescinding all orders that would place you in custody. I'll schedule a hearing as soon as possible to officially exonerate you of the crimes of which you were convicted. Headmaster Dumbledore, will you stand surety that Mr. Black will remain here until the hearing and that he will appear at the appropriate date and time?"

"With pleasure."

"Mr. Black, is that acceptable to you?"

For once in his life Sirius was speechless. Could his innocence be proclaimed by the snap of this witch's fingers? His conviction and sentencing had taken less than thirty seconds. Could the expunging of his record be equally speedy? Maybe there was no such thing as deliberative justice.

He realized with a start that Madame Bones was patiently awaiting his answer.

"Yes. Thank you."

Her features softened into something resembling a smile, which promptly vanished when she turned to regard Peter Pettigrew.

"My Aurors will take you to the Ministry where you'll remain until Mr. Black's hearing. After that, you'll be afforded the luxury of a trial, although I'm sorely tempted to give you the same treatment that your one-time friend suffered."

"Maybe I could round up a Dementor or two to keep you company in Azkaban," Moody growled.

The rest of the people in the room buzzed about what they had just witnessed. But, just as the Aurors took custody of Pettigrew, Remus strode forward.

"Wait!"

Remus thought this might be his last chance to try to find a reason that could explain the monstrous deeds his old friend had committed. Sirius, too, drifted closer until it was just the three of them in a small triangle in the center of the room.

"Peter, I've been trying to figure this out for a long time and I can't come up with a good answer. What drove you to Voldemort? What did he offer that was worth murdering James and Lily? That paid for orphaning Harry and nearly destroying Sirius?"

Sirius added, "It had to be more than fear for your own life. It had to be. We all lived with that fear for years. It had to be something else."

Pettigrew's small stature seemed to have shrunk further over the last few minutes. As he looked up at his old friends they both saw the vestiges of the boy they had once known, before their roads had split so irrevocably. For a few minutes, it was as if they were alone in the room.

"They said they wouldn't kill me," he muttered. "The Death Eaters. They promised to spare me, if I gave them information. It was little stuff in the beginning. Names, passing intercepted messages. By the time I realized how deep I had gotten, it was too late. I couldn't back out. I saw what they did to their own. I saw what they did to Regulus before they killed him."

Sirius felt a chill slither down his back at the memory of those dark, fearsome days. He heard his brother's voice in his head, begging for help in getting away, getting out of the country. He remembered waiting for hours for Regulus to show up to collect the money and wand Sirius had scrounged for him. Waiting fruitlessly because by then, Regulus was already dead.

Remus pressed him further. "But you took that first step. You gave them that first small bit of information when they contacted you. What sort of threats did they use, that you couldn't come to us, to the Order, for help?"

"They didn't come to me. I sought them out." The small man stood straighter as he admitted the depths of his treachery. His watery eyes darted back and forth between the disbelieving faces of the other two men.

Had he ever really known them? Pettigrew shrugged uncertainly. "They were picking us off one by one. They were winning. I was afraid to die."

No one else in the room made a sound.

"And that made it easier to sacrifice your friends without a fight? And your friends' son? And complete strangers on the street?" Sirius asked quietly, a mixture of anger, sadness and bewilderment on his face. He realized with a heavy sense of finality that he would never understand Peter's actions.

Peter looked back at him with equal incomprehension. "I had no other choice."

"There's always another choice." Sirius turned away, renouncing for all time whatever had once existed between them.

The room sprang back to life. Peter was led away.

The cold, clear air practically rang with a crystal purity only to be found in a Scottish winter. It swallowed the gray vapor of his breath as Sirius leaned against a tree, staring across the lake. He thought about the giant squid. For some reason, he always imagined that in winter it wore a humongous scarf wrapped around its tubular body. The scarf was always red and gold.

Footsteps squeaking through the snow made him flinch involuntarily. He turned and watched Harry approach.

"Couldn't you have taken a walk through the Castle, where it's warm?" Harry complained good-naturedly.

"I've always loved winter up here. The snow lasts so much longer and stays so much whiter than it does in London. I wanted to experience it again as a man, rather than an animal. I wanted to stop hiding, to walk around in the open air, where anyone looking out their window can see me."

Harry's eyes darted to the tree under which Sirius had partially concealed himself. He said nothing.

Sirius grinned sheepishly. "Okay, so I feel a little exposed at the idea of people looking out and seeing me. I've only had a few hours to get used to the idea that I don't have to disguise myself any more."

"It's easier to talk to you when you're you," Harry agreed. "Although, when you're Padfoot I can make rude comments and you can't talk back."

"No, but I can bite." That particular gleam in his eyes was something Harry had learned not to trust. "Or tackle you to the ground!"

The black dog bowled Harry over. Harry's indignant squawk was drowned out by his godfather's barking laughter. Human again, he rolled to his feet, scooping up a huge handful of snow. Harry's Quidditch reflexes kicked in and he grabbed his own lumps of snow. For the next twenty minutes snowballs whizzed furiously through the air like frozen comets. Direct hits were greeted with howls of outrage and dire threats of retribution.

Finally, breathless, they called a truce. Harry shook snow out of his hair, snickering as Sirius tried vainly to stop a cold rivulet of water from inching its way down his back, courtesy of a well-placed missile that had landed squarely above his collar. They strolled back towards the great oaken doors of Hogwarts.

"Remember that night in the Shrieking Shack?" Sirius asked unexpectedly. "When I offered you a place to stay if you wanted to leave the Dursleys?"

Harry nodded. He'd never forget the events of that night.

"Well, that offer still stands." Sirius hurried on before Harry could reply. "I know you still need the blood protection at the Dursleys. And, even though we both hate it, you'll be safer at Grimmauld Place than anywhere else during the rest of the time you're away from Hogwarts. And, that by the time this is all over, you'll be old enough to be on your own."

"But," he hesitated, seeking the right words. "Remus and I intend to find a place to live that isn't drenched with dark memories; the home we always thought we would share."

A pained look tightened Sirius' face and Harry regretted how quickly his godfather's laughter had disappeared. He was about to answer when Sirius spoke again.

"I'm sorry I couldn't provide for you years ago, Harry. I'll always regret that. You're almost an adult now, so maybe it's too late. But, I just want you to know that you have a place with us, whether you want to stay for a day or a month or for the rest of your life. You have place with us."

The unexpected lump in Harry's throat made it hard for him to speak. "Do you think we'll live to see it?"

Sirius shrugged. "It's worth fighting for."

They passed into the entrance hall.

"Sirius?"

"Hmm?'

"About this place you and Remus are going to get."

Sirius looked at him expectantly.

"Would you make sure it's not in a neat, cookie-cutter Dursley-approved neighborhood?"

Something changed in his godfather's eyes, Harry noted. Something good. When Sirius smiled, it always started with the spark in his eyes. Harry felt a fierce affection swell up inside him. Sirius knew exactly what he was talking about without him having to spell it out.

"And that there's room in the back to fly brooms? And extra bedrooms for guests? And maybe a ghoul in the attic, so Ron will feel at home if he stays over?"

"Anything you want, Harry." The laughter was back. "We'll also need a garage."

"Do you know how to drive? The Muggle way?"

"Oh, yeah. I learned as soon as I could, mostly because the mere thought of it drove my parents mad."

Harry frowned. "If you were still living with your parents when you learned, wouldn't you have been too young-"

"Never you mind." Sirius waved Harry's words away. "You're almost old enough now so let's not worry about it."

"Will you teach me?"

"Sure. Oh, Harry, you must learn about the internal combustion engine. It's a marvel by itself, but when combined with power-generating levitation charms, it's truly a thing of beauty. I once had a flying motorcycle..."

A dreamy expression settled on his face, making him look years younger. "It was brilliant."

Either of them could die at anytime, Harry knew. He didn't like to think about the odds that they would survive the conflict with Voldemort. And not just the two of them, but Remus and Ron and Hermione and Ginny and all the other people he cared about. Sirius' reminiscence of his motorcycle seemed somehow trivial and important at the same time. Silly and useless, yet symbolic of the kind of normal activity that neither of them had had the time to indulge. It was something else worth fighting for.

"Tell me about it," Harry prompted as they headed up to join Remus for a private dinner. Sirius happily complied.

The shocking revelations behind the treachery of Peter Pettigrew and the wrongful imprisonment of Sirius Black were all that anyone could talk about. The Daily Prophet lost interest in publishing anything that was not somehow connected to the scandal, even though they were unable to secure an interview with the soon-to-be-exonerated convict. They did manage to obtain several photographs of Sirius. The pictures of a thin, haunted face replaced the grotesque Azkaban photo of the escaped prisoner that had become so familiar to all. Stories about other prisoners began to emerge; stories that revealed a pattern of abuse of power and disregard for the law. Calls mounted for the resignation of Cornelius Fudge.

One week later, it was over.

After seven days of anxious waiting, Madame Amelia Bones convened her hearing.

And on the seventh day, flanked by silent Aurors, and followed by Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore, Alastor Moody, Remus Lupin and an esoteric collection of witnesses and supporters, Sirius Black entered the Ministry of Magic to tell his story, a story that was fifteen years overdue. He hid his nerves and his fear that somehow he would not be believed and would wind up back in Azkaban. He stood tall and proud, with the innate grace and carriage that revealed his Black lineage.

At the end of the questioning of Sirius, Peter and others who bore witness to the events surrounding these two men, Madame Bones consulted with the other members of her tribunal and pronounced her judgment.

"I hereby exonerate Sirius Black of all crimes of which he was convicted. You are free…"

She said a good deal more, but he couldn't hear it over the exultant clamor of those sixteen words echoing in his head. They shattered the hidden chains that burdened his heart and his spirit, turning them into bolts of joy. His skin tingled as if awakening to the warmth of spring after a winter of desolation. He breathed in air of such heady sweetness he felt almost drunk. Turning, he saw his own jubilance reflected back at him in the radiant love glowing on the faces of the two people who meant the world to him.

Free. He was free.

Epilogue

A raucous celebration reverberated through the gloomy rooms of 12 Grimmauld Place, making that dour dwelling seem almost hospitable. The many members of the Order of the Phoenix who showed up had a double motivation. Their astonishment of Sirius' return to the living was magnified by their joy in his exoneration. Curiosity about the mysterious power of the Veil was quickly squelched, as Dumbledore and Mad-Eye insisted this was a matter to be discussed with only the most senior people in the Department of Mysteries. The few unquenchably inquisitive in the crowd got no further by trying to pry information from Sirius directly, since he amused himself by giving outlandish or contradictory answers.

Not even Mrs. Black's portrait put a damper on the festivities. She was unable to sum up more than a stream of stunned mutterings, although she let out one good shriek when her son told her, eyes dancing with glee, that if she didn't behave, he'd construct a cabinet around her and place a permanent Silencing Charm on it.

Eventually the revelers left or found their way upstairs to bed. Only Remus and Sirius remained awake, lounging on a sofa in front of the drawing room fire. Maybe it was the feeling of utter release that had buoyed him since their date at the Ministry, but, for once, Remus didn't feel edgy in the foreboding, old house. Still, he didn't relish the thought of it being their permanent home.

Sirius' thoughts followed a similar path. "Once all this is over, Moony, we'll decide where we want to live and I'll sell this mausoleum."

Remus glanced around doubtfully. "Maybe you could offer it to Narcissa."

"Not a bad idea. She might feel compelled to keep it in the family, and I'd enjoy making her pry open the Malfoy vault in order to get her hands on it."

"That means that some day it will go to Draco."

"He's welcome to it. Think of how happy all the ancestors will be to have a worthy pureblood son living here." His head suddenly cocked to one side in a very Padfoot-like gesture. The bright, gray eyes fixed Remus with an avid stare.

"Speaking of sons," Sirius began. Remus got the distinct impression that he had inadvertently sprung a trap he didn't know existed.

"Do you remember about a week ago that I mentioned a dream? I had it the night I brought Wormtail back to Hogwarts."

"I remember. You said something about me and a boy."

"Yes. You were sitting at a table helping him learn how to write."

Remus smiled. "You were sometimes uncannily adept at Divination, especially when your imagination had spiraled out of control. But, somehow, I doubt I'll get a teaching position anytime soon."

Sirius smiled back at him, his expression so serenely beautiful that Remus stopped breathing. This wasn't the irresistible grin of the cheeky prankster who had so often vanquished Remus' caution, tempting him into trouble and complications and endless detentions. No, this smile reflected the clear-eyed passion of a man who had suffered grievously on his life's journey, but who had once again found joy.

"You were teaching your son."

Remus reminded himself to inhale, all the while fighting against the unexpected pull of those words and that face.

"It was a dream, Sirius."

"For now, yes. Doesn't mean it can't become reality some day."

He was still irresistible. Remus sat up straight, his stiff posture helping him to organize his thoughts and ignore the flutter in his heart.

"You're a gay escaped convict whose lover is a werewolf. And a highly illegal shape-shifter. Does Harry know about that, by the way?"

"Yes, I've told him. He's suitably impressed." Sirius waited patiently for Remus to marshal the rest of his objections.

"Anyway, you've just crawled back into the Ministry's good graces. And now you want to aggravate those people by breaking whatever regulations that prohibit me, and since we'll live together, you also, from raising children?"

The dismissive wave was all the evidence Remus needed that this was exactly what Sirius proposed.

"Gay relationships are no longer illegal. I'm an exonerated non-convict. I will register my Animagus status, thus becoming disgustingly law-abiding. And I did not crawl! The Ministry admitted it was at fault and now wants to negotiate some sort of compensation for its reprehensible treatment of me. The werewolf bit is just something we'll have to bargain our way around."

"You're conveniently forgetting that you're now a Polyanimagus."

Another elegant flick of the fingers banished this complication. "They don't need to know about that. You're avoiding the subject."

Sirius' smile dissipated. "I know this is sudden. But, I'm not going to let the Ministry get off easy. I'd love nothing more than to make them abolish all the laws that treat you unfairly. I don't have a chance in hell of making that happen yet. But, maybe I can change our two lives and that can be a starting point for something greater."

" 'Yet?' Sirius, do you plan on crusading for werewolf rights? Now?"

"No, not now. But when Voldemort is dead and the Death Eaters defeated once and for all, we'll have to do something with our time and energy other than wallow in the Black fortune. We might as well put our reputations as trouble-makers to good use."

"I could do with a few years of wallowing. No worries about where the next meal is coming from. Lounging for hours on comfortable furniture. Jumping your bones whatever time of day the mood strikes me. It sounds perfect."

"Stop trying to distract me." Although Sirius had smiled at his lover's words, he was unwilling to drop the subject. "I'm not unilaterally making both our minds up about this, but I think it's worth some serious thought."

Remus considered trotting out the hoary old pun, but decided they'd both heard it enough. He relaxed, leaning back into the sofa, remembering Sirius' cryptic comment weeks ago about being the last Black. "So you've decided that you want to father a child."

"If we live through this war and if the Ministry will stay out of our private lives," Sirius' tone was suddenly uncertain, "then maybe the Blacks can be reborn into something good, a repudiation of what my family has represented for centuries. And, what better way to attest to your humanity than to raise your own child and help me raise mine?"

Remus knew it would never be that easy. And something else niggled at him.

"I'm uncomfortable at the thought that my relationship with you could be my ticket to greater freedom, when all the other werewolves out there don't have that luxury."

Sirius' shoulders slumped forward and he suddenly looked weary. "It's probably all way too complicated, isn't it? Especially now, when either one of us could die the next time we set foot out the door. Am I crazy to even consider this?"

Remus took one of his lover's slender hands between his own, cradling it like a wounded bird. "No, you're not crazy. You have as much right as anyone else to be a father. But I think we have to consider how to hold the Ministry to honor in the future any bargain they make with us now."

Sirius raised his eyes from his contemplation of their joined hands. "Does this mean you're okay with the thought of fighting the Ministry for the right to have children? This is your decision, too."

"Honestly, I don't know." Remus' expression was quizzical. "I need to think about it. And we both need to consider the ramifications. People hang on to their prejudices, Sirius. Most of them hate werewolves, a lot of them hate homosexuals and I'm sure some of them will even find it hard to let go of the accepted wisdom that you're a mass murderer."

Sirius felt his stomach lurch. He'd thought that the poisonous assumptions about him would all disappear like ash blown by the wind. But, Remus was right. In spite of the evidence presented at the hearing, there were probably more than a handful of people who wouldn't believe he was innocent.

Remus was still mulling about practicalities. "I suppose we could live in separate houses, if the Ministry can't be budged."

"Separate houses!" Sirius was dumbfounded. "That's the single most asinine thing I've ever heard you say! Either we do this together or we don't do it at all. I'm not giving up what I have with you, Remus. We've both paid too high a price to get here."

Remus mind whirled with conflicting thoughts. They had finally cleared up one gigantic complication and already Sirius was poised to create another.

"You realize that this will make our lives very public, whether we want it or not. Assuming we strike a deal with the Ministry about children, everyone will know I'm a werewolf."

Sirius stared at him as if he had sprouted feathers. "Moony, everyone already knows you're a werewolf. That ship sailed a long time ago, courtesy of our trusty ally, Snape. And, besides, unless we leave the country or live like hermits, my notoriety pretty much guarantees a certain amount of publicity no matter what we do or don't do."

Rubbing his temples, Remus stared into the fire. "This is a big decision, love."

"I know."

"I need to think about it."

"I know."

Letting his hands drop into his lap, Remus eyed the man sitting next to him. "You have a natural talent for complicating our lives."

"I know that, too." Sirius gazed soberly back at him, although his lips twitched with a smothered smile. "You should have picked some nice, quiet respectable wizard, like a gay version of Arthur Weasley."

Remus reached out to curl a lock of black hair around his finger. "His hair is too red and his eyes are too dark."

"I didn't mean someone who looks like Arthur."

"I know what you meant." His fingers disappeared, sliding through the raven waves. They curled around Sirius' neck and insistently pulled him forward until their lips were a whisper apart. Remus let his eyes drift close. His head tilted just so to meet his lover's mouth.

Sirius pulled back at the last second, looking very much as he had as a teenager when confessing to some misdeed.

"Last week I told Harry about my old motorbike."

Although accustomed to the seemingly random pattern of his lover's thoughts, Remus still found the subject of transportation modes unexpected. He cocked an inquisitive brow.

"It was so much fun talking about it and telling Harry how the charms worked and what it felt like to fly it." Sirius shook his head. "It was stupid. I was so stupid, talking about this toy, this hobby, when we're faced with so many more important and deadly things to deal with now. Especially Harry. It made me realize I still have a long way to go."

"I don't understand. A long way to go where?"

Sirius leaped off the sofa and started pacing. "It was another one of those instances that make me think that I'm not living in the same world, the same time as all of you. I feel like I don't fit anywhere. Everyone has moved on and grown up, including my young godson, and I'm still in between. I keep seeing things as I did before I went to prison, as if all these years never happened. I'll never catch up. Sometimes I feel like I'll always be an overgrown teenager, certainly not someone who should think about raising a child."

Remus rose and smoothly stepped in Sirius' path, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to a halt.

"Listen to me. You've spent a third of your life isolated from the world. Even these last few years you've been in limbo. Out of prison, but still not free. Of course it'll take a while to catch up. There's nothing wrong with that. The fact that you survived at all is a testament to your courage and your strength. And to the kind of man anyone would be proud to call their father."

Sirius didn't respond. Remus cupped his chin and forced their gazes to meet.

"Was fighting for your sanity in Azkaban just a parlor game? Was becoming a Polyanimagus some adolescent lark? Even altering that motorcycle called for intricate, complex spells. You did it for the fun of it and because the illegality thrilled you, but it showed your skill at improvisational magic. It wasn't mere child's play."

Once again, his hand slid into Sirius' hair. His other arm curved around the slender waist and pulled his lover close.

"And it's never stupid to talk with Harry about things other than Death Eaters and destruction," he murmured. "You were sharing some of your past with him. Don't you realize how he cherishes that?"

This time Remus didn't let that delectable mouth slide away before he claimed it with a gentle kiss. His lips drew a caress along Sirius' jaw. He turned his head slowly, rubbing his cheek across his lover's, breath tickling warmly across Sirius' skin, whispering into his ear.

"You're impulsive and impetuous. You're complicated and chaotic and you always get me into trouble. You're generous and loyal and gifted. And in spite of the horrors you've suffered and the pain you've endured, you still offer up whatever you have to give."

The tension left Sirius' body with a huge sigh. "I do it because I'm just too bloody stubborn to give up. And because I want to be worthy of you. I love you so much, Remus. It amazes me that you still love me, even though I'm not the best wrapped present under the Christmas tree."

His arms tightened around Remus. He felt the familiar slippery heat tingling outward from every place where their bodies pressed together. Touch. The touch of Remus' fingers along the nape of his neck; the pressure of his arm around Sirius' back. He leaned into Remus. His Remus. His touchstone. His sheet anchor.

"I love you, too," Remus laughed quietly. He tipped his head to look into Sirius' face and while his smile overflowed with warmth and comfort, the look in his eyes spoke of a deeper hunger. "This oddly wrapped present under the Christmas tree adds up to a man I wouldn't trade for anyone else in the world. Not even for a Knight Bus full of gay Arthur Weasleys."

"Well, now you're being ridiculous," Sirius snorted. "Besides, how many Arthur Weasleys can you shag at the same time?"

Remus silenced him with a kiss. He leaned harder into Sirius, nudging him backwards. Step by step they neared the door, each measure of distance marked by a kiss.

"I'll gladly give up all of them," his teeth gently closed on an earlobe, "for the chance to shag one particular free man tonight."

"A free man." Sirius reiterated. "Free. It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

Laughing, they swept from the room.

END