Lost and Found

Chapter 15 - The Quibbler

After the initial delirious happiness wore off, things became slightly more uncomfortable. Actually, they were very uncomfortable. The first and only chess game they managed to play was in complete silence, to their chessmen's confusion. Any and all bantering they might have thought of was stifled by the situation.

At some point, when they realized the clock said three am, they decided unanimously to continue in the morning. Hermione gave him a slightly jittery smile as she went to bed, and he felt his heart thud so loudly that he hoped she couldn't hear it. He'd screwed up.

So he settled down on the couch and tried so desperately not to remember how soft and inviting she'd felt and how much he really wanted to just knock on her door and ask, So, if you're feeling up to another quick snog-

Sirius groaned and buried his face in the pillow. He was just not getting anywhere with this ignoring thing. It had started so easily - make Hermione happy, make himself happy, things get better. He hadn't expected to suddenly want to do it for the rest of his life.

Rest of my life. Sounds good. Why not?

Because she's Hermione.

Good lord, I just snogged Hermione.

His thoughts paused for a moment, to examine this novel concept.

Yes. Yes I did. And I liked it. And I very much want to do it again. Many times.

There was just one big problem with this: Hermione was going to avoid him like the plague after this. The tension between them could have been cut with a knife. He really didn't blame her, now that he looked back on his idiotic kiss. Just one more example of rushing into things, Padfoot old boy. Still haven't learned your lesson.

Sirius muttered a few aimless curse words before stuffing his face angrily into his pillow.

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Hmm.

Hermione couldn't sleep.

That had been-

What? What had it been?

Nirvana came to mind. And then, if you wanted to go slightly less eastern, heaven.

And while part of her had wildly suggested in that moment that she tell him quite calmly he didn't have to sleep on the couch anymore with talent like that, the nice rational side of her had screamed in denial. No, Hermione, you are not that stupid. No, Hermione, you are not in love. And neither is he - you just wish he was.

She sighed and fluffed her pillow again.

He really had been warm. No doubts about that anymore.

Her fingers brushed her lips, and she reveled in the slight pain it caused. He'd really done a number on them. But she could honestly say it was the most pleasing bruise she'd ever received. She'd do it again. And again and again, if he'd let her.

But Sirius was... well, he was Sirius. Hermione could easily see him as the kind of person that gave that kind of kiss to a friend. In fact, she was quite certain that had been what it was. So getting her hopes up for another one of those was pretty much setting herself up for defeat. Besides which, he was probably already regretting the first kiss he'd given her - his stiff posture had all but screamed that he wasn't too happy.

With a self-disgusted moan, she let her head fall against her pillow and closed her eyes. Because she had never been the falling in love kind of person; she had been a rational girl, and then, a rational woman. No love at first sight, thank you, no romantic dates, no flowers, no chocolates. And the first time she'd decided to go ahead and do it, the person she'd chosen was not the best one to pick. He was completely different than she was, he was inconsistent, he was going to leave eventually, and, though this was perhaps not as disturbing as it ought to have been, she had known him when she was fifteen.

No, this was obviously a crush. Surging hormones, making up for lost time, melting at the first real kiss she'd received. If she rode out the wave, she could save both of them quite a bit of embarrassment and then get on with her life. Hopefully for real, this time.

That settled, she went to sleep. Then, realizing that it wasn't working, she opened her journal.

Looking back over her last entry, she decided it really wasn't going to do.

I think I'm in love. Hopefully, this will pass...

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They were, of course, trying vainly to resolve their discontinued game (which, surprisingly, Sirius was winning) when the owl came.

It soared gracefully to the sill of the window, then settled before it, pecking in a dignified way, as if it were only knocking like any civilized person would do.

Hermione rose, slightly puzzled, until she came to realize where the tapping noise was coming from. She opened the window with a little shiver, letting the owl climb onto her arm.

And then, her eyes widened and she felt the blood drain from her face.

This very dignified and somewhat silvered owl was from someone she knew.

It was from Lupin.

With shaking hands, she closed the window and pulled the small bundle from the owl's talons, letting it nip her affectionately on the finger as it recognized her as an old friend.

Hermione closed her eyes slowly as she saw the magazine, and the headline. This was not good. In fact, she really ought to sit down if she thought about it.

"Hermione?" came Sirius' surprised voice. "Is something wrong?"

Hermione tried to turn back to the table, but stumbled on her way as her vision swam.

She should have expected this. She should have expected it.

"Hermione!"

He was holding her up now, helping her to a chair. "What on earth-"

She set the magazine down on the table, then let her head thud against it unhappily. Eventually, she would wake up, and things would be better. Really, really they would.

Sirius was looking at her quizzically, she was sure. But she heard the rustling of paper as he looked at it himself.

Then he swore.

"Bloody hell."

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Sirius Black - Dead or Alive?

By Maya James

For about nineteen years, the public has lived under the impression that Sirius Black, former convict of Azkaban and now-pardoned war hero, was dead. This information was reinforced by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore's confirmation of his death at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange, Deatheater and cousin to the victim. Many of his closest friends, including the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, mourned quite openly for him, leading to the discovery of information pertaining to his unlawful arrest and jailing without trial.

However, with certain evidence now come to light, we must ask ourselves:

Is Sirius Black truly dead?

Has he, in fact, ever been dead?

Glinda Gladrags says no. In fact, she says, she saw him just a few days ago, and even sold him some robes. "Charming man," she says with a smile. "He was looking quite healthy for a dead man, I must say. In fact, he didn't look like he'd even aged at all!"

From a few pictures, provided us by trusted sources, this seems to be true, unlikely as it sounds. Sirius Black has not, in point of fact, aged at all. However, his companion for the moment, a Miss Hermione Granger, seems to have aged quite normally, and the two are, from rather obvious hints in our picture, having romantic interaction. This seems to imply that not only has Sirius Black been alive for years, he must have somehow come into possession of the supposedly destroyed Philosopher's Stone... (continued on page 22).

Sirius turned to the picture, wondering for the moment what he would see and whether he wanted to see it.

Thankfully, the picture was only of a hiccupping Hermione, leaning into his shoulder and giggling. However - he did very much want to know who had taken such a picture and why they would have sent it to a magazine such as the Quibbler.

"I feel like an idiot," Hermione muttered. "Poor Remus, finding out like this... I should have told him..."

With a blink, Sirius looked at the owl, who was also gazing at him unblinkingly.

He began to roll up the magazine again and get ready to straighten things out, when a small, folded note fell out of the center.

Hermione, it began. I'm afraid Luna has gotten a few interesting ideas about you. While I tried to dissuade her, she is quite adamant about the fact that a trusted reporter had brought her 'reliable' information about old Padfoot suddenly alive and dating you. I did want you to be aware of such happenings, so I forwarded the magazine to you. Your address is still legally unlisted by the Ministry, I assume, so there shouldn't be too much trouble. If, however, a few owls get through, please let me know so that I can renew the enchantment on your home that keeps unknown pests away.

Yours truly,

Remus J. Lupin

Sirius swallowed.

No.

That was-

He knew what it was. It was a very important test of his willpower.

At first, he'd been ecstatic to hear that he might see his old friend, relieved that he was alive. But as time went on, while he was still quite happy to hear that Moony had survived the war... something uncomfortable had wormed its way into his thoughts. A feeling that he wasn't quite ready, and sometimes, that he never would be ready. For a very simple and very important reason, of course.

Moony was now almost twenty years older than he.

Hermione made a small sound from beneath her arms that sounded suspiciously like a sob. He found himself torn between wanting to ask what was wrong and never finding out.

"Hermione," he started in a shaking voice, intent on apologizing for his cowardly behavior, for making this happen-

"I'm sorry," she interrupted with a choked voice. "I should have let him know. I'm so sorry - I know you wanted to see him, I don't know why I didn't-"

"What are you saying?" he asked her in surprise.

And she blinked, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. "But I thought-"

"This is my fault," he told her, a little surprise still evident in his voice. "I was - I was putting it off, I didn't mean to cause this..."

A very profound relief entered her face, but it was quickly erased by a new unhappiness.

"I think we need to pay him a visit," she said. "In- in fact, I'll bring his present."

Sirius put a hand on her arm, rubbing it comfortingly. "That sounds like a good idea."

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Surprisingly, the destination that the owl's return address led them to was somewhere they'd been mere miles from before. Somewhere all-too-familiar that made them wonder how they could have missed it.

Because Remus Lupin would, of course, be teaching at Hogwarts.

They were let in immediately by the doors, but most of the students were gone for the break, and so they encountered very few people along the way. Those students that did see them didn't take too much notice - after all, none of them knew who they were, none of them had been alive...

He'd thought that knocking on that door was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.

As soon as he got up the courage to do it, though, Sirius discovered that waiting at that door was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.

He'll be older. Wiser than me. No more Moony, no more pranks, he's probably all grown up-

What will he think? That I left him of my own accord, that I purposefully didn't come to see him - well, that's true, but not in the way he'd think- well, actually, exactly in the way he thinks, but will he understand-

And then, it opened, and everything was suddenly fine again.

Because a tired, and somewhat older, but completely the same Remus Lupin was staring at him with shock and a slowly appearing incredulous joy.

The next moment, the threshold had been breached, and he was being hugged, squeezed, until he thought something might cave.

"Moony," Sirius gasped. "I- I appreciate the sympathies-"

"Yes, of course," Lupin breathed, loosening his hold. "But- you're- how?"

"I- you know, actually - I don't know."

Hermione, behind him, was trying to bugger out. He knew she'd try it, though, so he jerked his head backward. Lupin was soon hugging her too, spinning her with a laugh that seemed to make the years melt away in a way nothing else could have.

"How did you do it?" he asked her. "How is it possible?"

Hermione was smiling now, tearfully. "I don't know either. But you're not angry?"

Lupin laughed again. "How could I be angry? He's back, Hermione, that's all that matters!"

And they were being pulled inside his room, and he was pouring them tea, just like old times, and everything was all right again.

"Oh!" Hermione said after the obligatory moment of silence, and she put down her cup. "I have your Christmas present with me, I almost forgot."

She pulled the package from her cloak and set it down on the table, but Lupin picked it up and put it on the bed in the corner. "I'll put it under the tree in the Great Hall," he told her with a smile. "Best to save some surprises for Christmas."

She seemed to be smiling back in a way that hinted at a long friendship and a longer tradition. "I think I've missed you," she told him happily, even as a familiar pug-nosed, four legged creature slunk its way around her ankles, purring loudly. Hermione gasped in delight, scooping up her old pet and snuggling it in a way that made Sirius seriously question whether he ought to have been a cat Animagus.

Lupin turned severe at this. "I should hope so. I haven't seen you in at least three years."

And at this, she deflated, and Sirius began to understand just a little of what had changed.

"You've aged gracefully," he found himself saying suddenly, examining his old friend with surprise. "Very much so."

The Moony he had known was still there. He was still almost the same. Perhaps a bit more grey in his hair, and the lines around his mouth were more pronounced, but he was still the same.

Lupin smiled, but the smile had a slight bitter twist to it. "Yes, well. Unpredictable aging comes along with the whole condition. I suppose it was easier to notice when it decided to speed up, but it seems to have been trying to make up for lost time recently."

Sirius grinned. "So the grey hairs are from your students instead? What are you teaching, in any case? I thought Snape had the Dark Arts job."

His old friend gestured toward a bookcase at the back, and a book came sailing into his hand. In response to the question, he handed it to Sirius.

The other man's brow furrowed for a moment - and he laughed. Hermione looked over at the title curiously.

Basic Care for Magical Creatures

By Rubeus Hagrid

"I'm afraid I've had to supplement the sections on tender loving care with more substantial stuff, but most of it is surprisingly useful," he said with a wink.

Hermione stared at him, blinking, as she stroked Crookshanks absently. "But - Hagrid-"

"Is currently in Romania with Charlie Weasley, raising dragons like he's always wanted to."

Her mouth drew into a full smile. "Good for him. He deserves it."

Lupin looked significantly at Sirius for a moment, though, and he understood.

"Hermione?" he said quietly. "Could I have a moment to talk with old Moony?"

She shrugged. "I don't see why not. Go ahead and let me know when you two are done telling embarrassing stories about me, please?" She said it offhandedly, but he had a feeling she was feeling more than she was letting on. It was disconcerting, knowing she was feeling something else, but not being able to identify what. Crookshanks hopped off her lap just before she rose, scooting toward Lupin's bed and hopping onto it to curl into a purring ball of ginger fur.

Sirius had opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong, but she had closed the door the next moment, and he had to turn back to Lupin for the present.

"She looks better," his friend observed quietly. "Still a little jittery, but that's to be expected."

Sirius cast his gaze to the floor uneasily. Jittery was... a mild way to put it. She was terrified around him, and he knew why.

"So - dating, Sirius?" Lupin said it with a slight upward tilt to his mouth.

"No!" he said, perhaps a bit too quickly. "Why would you even consider anything coming out of the Quibbler-"

"I was joking, Padfoot," he said with a frown. "You seem pretty jittery too, come to think of it. Well - go ahead. Tell me everything I've missed."

Sirius swallowed, looking up at him again. "Shouldn't I be asking that question?" he said slowly.

Lupin shrugged. "Fair enough. I am expecting a full report on your current activities afterward, though - there's something big you're not telling me."

"You're much too perceptive for your own good," Sirius grumbled.

His old friend shrugged self-deprecatingly, but there was humor in his eyes. "My life's been much as you would expect. Not too many improvements in the job department for a while, but I made do with what I could find. Recently, Dumbledore called me back to teach again - Hagrid specifically requested me, I'm told. By his words, the animals are all incredibly tame around me." His mouth twisted into a grin. "I have my suspicions about this, of course - it's probably because they don't want to be turned into prey." Sirius laughed with him, feeling a little better.

"In the way of significant events..." Lupin's eyes darkened. "Has she told you about the war?"

Sirius frowned broadly. "Yes," he said shortly.

That was all that needed to be said on that subject.

"Very well then," Lupin sighed, combing a hand through his hair. "Afterward, Hermione and I kept up a small correspondence. It wasn't comfortable, by any definition of the word, but I was apparently the only one she bothered to keep in touch with. I visited her a few times, and she even asked me to live with her once, but I was too blind. By the time I realized she'd needed company, I'd refused her outright, and there wasn't another opportunity. Besides, she would have taken it as pity."

Sirius drew his teeth over his bottom lip nervously. "You left out the, ah, incident. Year after."

Lupin looked at him strangely. "She told you?"

He wanted to say yes. He wanted to get the full story and the full details, as awful as they might be. But instead, he found himself being altogether too honest, as he'd always been around the calmest in their group. "No," Sirius admitted. "The storekeeper told me."

Understanding lit Lupin's eyes, then, through the shadow that had fallen over them. "Yes, I'd forgotten about him. She wasn't happy, I suppose."

"No," Sirius said darkly. "She wasn't."

Lupin passed a hand in front of his eyes wearily. "Then you'd best know the whole story. I can only tell you my side, but I hope it's enough - it's bad enough she has to remember it occasionally."

Sirius managed to stifle the urge to tell him he'd already asked her. He wasn't honest enough to want to see the look of disappointment that would enter old Moony's eyes. "Go ahead," he sighed, leaning back.

Lupin composed himself admirably, considering his role. He drew his fondly worn robes about him quietly, something in him changing as his mind traveled back sixteen years.

"I was at Hogwarts during that time - the Order was tying up loose ends, bringing in the last of Voldemort's supporters that we could catch. Hermione had already secluded herself by then. She wanted nothing more to do with us, I'm afraid, and I can't really blame her. She was altogether too close to the end as it happened. But when I got the tip off that a few Deatheaters had somehow found the residence of Harry Potter's closest remaining friend... I could only get hold of Fletcher in time. I had to leave a note for the others, and we apparated as soon as we could. By that time..."

A shudder wracked his body, and a cloud passed over his face. "She was pale. Utterly still, like she was dead, and I- I thought she was." Tired eyes looked into his, making sure that he understood. "All that was missing was the green tint, and I didn't think to question it, because there are plenty of other ways to die."

Something inside Sirius convulsed at this statement, but he forced himself to stay silent and listen. This was his penance, his punishment for not being there.

"I remember crying - Fletcher had gone off in pursuit of the Deatheaters, and I've never seen him so focused before - but I couldn't tear myself away from her. Then that old muggle, bless him, he'd seen lights going on up there as we used magic, trying to find them. He pulled me off her and started some kind of rescue procedure. I can't even begin to say how wretched I felt when I saw he'd managed what I couldn't. He wanted to take her to the hospital, but I knew she wouldn't want him to and that I'd be able to help her more. I told him I'd do it." The lines on his face were now just a little more prominent.

"Fletcher came back soon, said he'd lost their trail. I could tell he'd wanted to kill them - but he helped me get the emergency potions from headquarters, and we fixed her ribs best we could. I stayed with her and made sure to enchant her house like we should have in the first place, making it impossible to find by owls that haven't been there before. And then," Lupin's eyes suddenly gleamed a dull amber, "I went after them. Did she tell you?"

"Yes," Sirius responded. "I told her it was what I would have done."

"You know," Lupin said quietly. "Even under the influence of the Wolfsbane, I can't remember what I've done when I wake up. I keep my human emotions, and I think like I would, but I can't remember when I wake up. But I knew I'd done it, because I'd been planning to, and there was blood." His mouth hardened into a line, and his expression changed to one Sirius had only seen on it a handful of times. "I wish I could remember. I wish I could be sure I'd gotten every single one."

"I'm sure you did," Sirius said. "I can't imagine you leaving one out."

"No," Lupin agreed, suddenly quite cheerful again, in a morbid way. "I can't see that I would have either. It's just the principle of the thing."

Something they'd always said as Marauders, when asked why they thought it was all right to play pranks on Snape. Sirius never thought he'd hear it from Lupin, as he had always been the single one that seemed to hesitate in those pranks, the cruelest and most heartless they'd ever come up with.

"Some people deserve it," his friend answered the unspoken question, quietly.

And Sirius found himself agreeing. "Yes. Some people do." Then, on a completely different thought, "When's the next full moon?"

Lupin blinked. "Tomorrow night. Why?"

This seemed to settle it. "You've got yourself a roommate, then," Sirius told him. "Hope you can take another romp through the Forbidden Forest."

A ghost of a smile appeared on Lupin's face. "Certainly, Padfoot old friend."