Tonks gasped awake. Lupin reached out his hand to her arm.

"Dear?" Lupin said.

"Oh, Remus," Tonks said, turning over. She pushed her face into his chest. Her breath was warm against his skin. Remus sighed and stroked her hair.

"Again?" Lupin whispered into the dark.

"I just can't get any of it out of my head enough to sleep," Tonks said into his body. "Always, I hear her. Bellatrix laughing. And then Sirius-" She stopped. Lupin gently laced his fingers around her waist.

"I don't believe in promises I can't keep," Lupin said, "so I won't tell you that you're safe here with me."

"Don't even start on that, Remus," Tonks said. She drew up the blankets to her shoulders and nestled into his chest, spreading out her hands over him. "I don't need you gnawing on that bone again."

"As always, your metaphors are spot on," Lupin said.

"Aren't you supposed to sing me a lullaby or something?" Tonks asked.

"You'd let me sing?"

"Course not. But I will have a story," Tonks said, "Just nothing ghastly."

"So it can't be a true story, then?" Lupin answered. He seized her in a tighter embrace. "Nothing from my thrilling adventures prancing about as a hairy beast?"

"If you can spare me," Tonks murmured, "perhaps one of your lectures on Murdlow's Laws of Exasperation. That'll knock me right out."

"It's 'Propugnation' and it's only the very foundation of all modern wizarding defense."

"Wait, tell me something 'bout you and Sirius," Tonks said. She cozied up closer to his body, which was always warm, like a furnace.

"A real story?" Lupin asked.

"I'll let you decide on that one," Tonks said. Lupin looked through his window. The curtains obscured a waning crescent. Its pale light cast a fairy glow around their bedroom. Suddenly, a story came to Lupin. He smiled.

"Right, well, I remember this one completely daft night..."

EIGHTEEN YEARS EARLIER

The waxing moon hung like a shard of glass over Lupin. He gripped his nails onto the balcony ledge. Swiping the cigarette tucked into his jacket pocket, he lit it and inhaled. A hand pat him on the back.

"Since when you join the club?" Sirius said. He perched himself onto the balcony edge. Sirius reached out a hand. "You mind?" Lupin exhaled and passed the cigarette. Sirius took a pull and blew out, cocking his head back. Lupin observed Sirius's pale throat, smooth as marble in the moonlight. "Would you get a look at that wretched rock in the sky?"

"Sometimes I talk to her," Lupin said, grabbing the cigarette back. "Tell her to slow down this month. Wait a tic longer to grow into a large white sore upon the heavens."

"Talking to the moon? That's the first sign, my friend," Sirius said. He hopped up onto the balcony.

"The first sign of what, may I ask?" Lupin said. There was a burst of laughter from inside the mansion. Peter had thrown some raucous number for his birthday. At that moment, he was undoubtedly stuffing his face with cake and rum.

"A sign for all sorts of things," Sirius said. He walked steadily, one foot before the next, balancing with his arms outstretched. "Leprosy, gout, Troll's Foot."

"And here I thought you were going to say lunacy," Lupin said, hitching a corner of his mouth into a smile.

"Why's that?" Sirius said. He screwed his face in concentration, sticking out his tongue. He was nearing the end of the long balcony.

"Are you trying to off yourself?" Lupin said casually.

"Would you like to join?" Sirius asked. He coiled his body and sprung into the air. Lupin gasped, his body bristling. He ran. After a perilous moment, he heard a splash. Then shouting.

"Merlin's beard! It's that Black boy!" a man shouted.

"Sirius!" Lupin shouted, leaning over the railing. Down below, a lap pool jiggled and belched out water. Sirius swam neatly, in long full strokes. A man dashed to the poolside.

"You can't be in there!" he shouted. Lupin ducked down a stone staircase. Sprinting, he tucked his hair back and held up his hands.

"It's alright! Mr. Pettigrew, it's quite alright," Lupin said.

"It's bloody well not alright!" Mr. Pettigrew fumed. He was red and his thinning hair gleamed like spider web. "I only allowed Peter to have this engagement on the promise that he would not darken our doorstep!"

"What did he say?" Sirius said, hauling himself out of th pool. He tossed back his wet locks and straightened his dinner jacket. "Can you come again, I don't think I heard you correctly, Enus."

"Look, I'll escort him out personally," Lupin said, stepping between the angered parties. Mr. Pettigrew eyed Lupin for a moment, tracing lines over scars. Finally, he huffed and stormed away.

"Now that my boy is graduated, I think he's had just about enough of the lot of you!"

"Enus, always charming to the crooked end," Sirius said, sliding a lighter out of Lupin's shirt pocket and lighting a dry cigarette. Lupin sighed and drew out his wand.

"Siccuminta," Lupin said. Water siphoned off his friend's clothing in a long stream. Steam rose into the night air. "Feeling a bit less drenched now, are we?"

"I feel like taking a walk tonight. A stroll, if you will," Sirius said, looking straight at Lupin. Lupin felt his heart hit his throat. He lifted an eyebrow.

"A stroll where?" said Lupin. Sirius hooked his arm through Lupin's.

"I've just about had enough of this little soiree, wouldn't you agree?" said Sirius. Lupin felt a hitch in his throat. The evening had been, admittedly, a killer headache. They walked together down the Pettigrew's sloping back lawn and down into the forest.

"You've been here before, haven't you?" Lupin asked.

"Nonsense," Sirius said, scooping up a knapsack sitting on a stump and swinging it over his back, "I just like to be prepared." Lupin decided not to bother searching for an answer. Sometimes it was better not to fight Sirius on the minor details of reality. Besides, Sirius had a way of making Lupin forget, for one bleeding minute, about the growing hurt inside his bones.

The noise of the party fuzzed out to silence. A breeze lifted and an owl screeched in the distance. Lupin could hear his breathing, his beating heart. The only other person alive on the entire planet was Sirius and it was electric and hateful and free.

"See any of those star picture bits?" Sirius asked, wheeling around in a circle, craning his neck up.

"You mean constellations?"

"No, I mean star picture bits," Sirius answered.

"Well, over there seems to be Leda, the swan," Lupin said. He pointed out to the sky. "And, well, over that way is Nerodius the Ever-Strained. That would be the one to guide you north should you ever need it," Lupin said. He looked back and saw that Sirius was gone. He frowned.

"Sirius?" he asked. A gust kicked up leaves. He turned but could see no one. "Sirius?" This was ridiculous. It was a mistake to go wandering with a wanderer. Lupin balled his fists. But then, he felt a warmth around his neck. He closed his eyes. The warmth was spreading over his chest, pleasant and soft.

"Keep going," Sirius commanded in a whisper. He took off the hood of the Cloak of Invisibility and winked.

"I-I. Sirius," Lupin said.

"Go on. Name the stars for me," Sirius answered. He pulled him around the waist and placed his lips on his neck. Lupin's legs buckled. The skies tilted.

"There's- there's Opherinia, she was, she was a witch who could- I can't even remember anymore," Lupin rasped. Sirius tugged at the back of his hair. "And Carod the Nimrod, over-over-." Lupin cupped Sirius's jaw. He dived into the darkness. They kissed like they were starving. Wrapped together, Sirius tucked him into the cloak.

"Wotcher. You find this appropriate bedtime material?" Tonks whispered coyly, "What are you trying to do? Pervert young minds?"

"I was hoping to capture a moment, dear," Lupin said.

"Are we or are we not talking about you snogging my cousin sideways?" Tonks answered. She grabbed his nipple and pinched, "Not that I mind that bit. Much less incestuous than the rest of the family could say, I would think."

"Will you allow me to return to my tale? And stop yanking on that, it's the only one of those I have anymore," Lupin said.

"Make me," Tonks said, biting down on his nipple.

The winds grew stronger around Sirius and Lupin. They looked up. Clouds scraped a shroud over the moon.

"We should go back," Lupin said.

"And spoil the evening?" A strange coldness pressed down on Lupin. He frowned.

"I'm serious."

"No, I'm Sirius."

"Sirius!"

"Right! That's what I'm telling you!"

"Sirius! We need to go, now," Lupin said, pulling on his hand. "Something doesn't feel right." But now the path was impossible to find in the dark. Lupin held up his wand. "Lumos," he whispered. His wand did nothing. "Lumos," he said again. Again, nothing. Frustration and fear clung to his ribs.

"Hang on," Sirius said, taking out his wand. "Lumos." A bright halo shot out. A dark figure stood tall and arched before them. Lupin gasped. He rolled back.

"Confringo!" Lupin shouted, slicing his wand through the air. If it hit the figure, it did nothing. The figure advanced forward toward Sirius, who stepped back and tripped on a rock. "Expecto Patronum!" Lupin hissed. Nothing. Not even a faint flicker of his Patronus. The hooded figure raised its head. It drifted in Lupin's direction.

"Sectumsempra!" Lupin shouted hoarsely. He smelled rotting meat and sensed an ocean of sighs. He was repelled yet gripped by the creature. Shaking his head, he retreated. The dark arts required a level head. Suddenly, a large black dog padded toward Lupin and growled up at the figure, laying its ears back, teeth sharp.

"Sirius, don't!" Lupin cried. Sirius ran away, leaving him alone once more. What was going on? "Who are you?" Lupin asked loudly. He could hear the creature's bone-sucking breath. He brought up his wand. "What do you want?" The figured rasped out but it sounded like brittle leaves and tree branches cracking.

"I know who it is," Sirius said, beside Lupin, back in his human form, "and it's not the first time I've met the bastard, either."

"Sirius, who is this?"

"An old friend," Sirius said, re-igniting his wand tip. It lit up the hooded figure. Underneath the folds of the gauzy black cloth, Lupin could almost see a face. But it was always changing, shriveled then young then gone.

"What does it want?" Lupin said, backing up. "Sirius, what are you doing?" Sirius reached into his knapsack and pulled something out. It was a small box.

"The cloak, of course," Sirius answered steadily, as if in a trance, "But we must never give it. I mean, it's some top notch stuff, innit? Not just going to let this wheezy old fart nick it." He placed the small box down on the gronud."A parting gift."

"Alright, friend, shall we?" Sirius asked. Lupin did not require a second prompting. He swung the cloak over both of them and they ran frightfully back to the mansion. Lupin grabbed his hand and together they spun away into the tight void of Disapparation.

"So what was in the box?" Tonks asked, looking up at Lupin.

"What?"

"What was in the bleeding box, Remus?" Tonks said. Lupin shrugged.

"With Sirius it could have been anything. Bertie Bott's Beans? A key? A finger? Perhaps that's why I never asked." Tonks groaned and crossed her arms.

"So did it happen? Did it really happen?"

"Maybe none of it did," Lupin said, speaking into her hair, "but I like to think so."

"Me, too," Tonks said, her eyes closing, "because I know what was in the box."

"Oh yeah?" Lupin asked.

Death watched the two mortals escape under the Cloak. His cloak. The cloak he spun and cut and sewed. It winked once in the moonlight and was gone. Eternally alone once more, he raised up the box from the grass. His ancient hands pried back the lid. Sand poured out. The sand poured through the slit between his fingers. It poured steadily through the cracks until it was gone. Until the last grain dropped away.

To this, Death smiled.