Hand-me-Downs

Remus was niggled awake by the sound of scratching on the outside of the cabin, just inches from his ear and conducting loudly through the wooden wall. As he woke up and lifted his head, he heard a strain of dark muttering.

"'Ts Kreacher..." Sirius slurred, mostly asleep and only inches from Remus's other ear. "Jss go bacto sleep..."

Lupin had to wake himself enough to remember for certain that Kreacher couldn't get in or damage the house, and turned over so that his head wasn't touching the wall, very carefully. A single twin-size bed took up fully half the cabin's seven-foot square of floor space, with just enough room left for the door and the small potbellied stove. All their efforts to magically expand the bed within the already-enchanted space had failed, and Sirius had been even more scandalized at Lupin's offer to sleep on the floor than he'd been about the tea-bags, so in the end they had both been squeezed into a bed made for one person. Like every morning since, Remus was nestled between Sirius and the wall, but this time it was hard finding a place to lay his head that would miss both Kreacher's voice on one side and on the other his friend's tendency to drool in his sleep just as in dog form.

He settled in again and it seemed as if he had just begun to drift off when he heard more sounds outside--footsteps too heavy to be a house-elf. Molly Weasley's voice came bright and loud amid three hard raps on the door. "Rise and shine!"

"AUGH!" Sirius woke with a shock and tumbled directly onto the floor, taking the pile of well-worn quilts and crocheted throws with him.

"Okay in there??"

"DON'T DO THAT TO ME!"

"We're fine," Remus called.

There was another person outside. "...Really, Mum, no way to wake somebody who's been chased across half the earth by..."

Lupin thought he recognized the voice. "Bill?"

"Yeah, I came with Mum. Charlie's here too, said he'd get the attic around for Bucky."

"Oh, good," Sirius said as he picked himself up.

"We've got the firewood you wanted," Molly said. "There's some in the kitchen and I'm leaving some by the fireplace here..."

"Thank you," Remus answered.

"And I brought more tea, and eggs and toast and--"

"There's breakfast in the kitchen is what she's saying," Bill interrupted to translate.

"We'll be down presently." Lupin edged around Sirius, who had gotten the comb from the single shelf above the stove and begun attacking his hair--he had slept in his prison robes and had nothing else to change into now. "If you'll go ahead..." Remus began as he found his wand and conjured a basin of water.

"Of course." Sirius slipped out the door before he even had to finish. As Lupin cleaned up and dressed, he could hear him talking to Bill Weasley.

"...Got some time off from my desk-job, so I thought I could do a little freelance curse-breaking for you..."

"This place needs it."

Moody's voice came, fainter from distance. He seemed to be saying something about the robes Sirius had asked him to look at.

"Sure, I'll have a look," Bill said.

"Much obliged to you for doing that," Sirius called.

"Has to be done anyway," was the answer Remus thought he heard.

Once he'd dressed and tied back his hair, Lupin waited for the others to leave the room before stepping outside his house and jiggling the doorknob a little. The Castle shrank up into his hand, back in the shape of the tobacco tin. He draped his robe on the bedroom door again and pushed it almost closed, then loaded the fireplace with the wood Molly had brought, took the defaced photo from their school days out of his pocket, and tucked it between the logs. With a match from the house-tin and a page torn from one of the books they'd cleaned off the bookshelf, he started the hearth-fire and watched it until the photograph had been safely destroyed. Settling on his knees where he could stretch and reach both the fireplace and the pile of items to burn, he sighed and began lighting the books one by one--a horrible thing to have to do, because books could hold so much that was good, but in this house they could hold just as much that was dark and dangerous and were too great a risk to spare them.

The fire was crackling merrily amid black flakes of charred paper when Sirius's voice came from the hallway, calling to someone Lupin couldn't hear. "I'm here, third floor! Try it!" There came a long squeal of unoiled metal, a little clattering. "...Yes, I got it; it just doesn't sound pretty--and the bell's not--! ... All right, I'll be there in a second!"

He whisked into the room with a tea-tray and set it on the floor next to Remus. "We're trying the dumbwaiters, so sniff this before you drink it," he said quickly before going out to the other end of the hall. "All right, send it up!" This one creaked and shuddered even more horribly than the other, but finally Sirius called down the shaft, "I got it! Now to make sure the trip didn't poison any of it!"

Lupin poured a cup of tea and checked it with a malice detection spell, then smelled the steam and took one careful sip before adding milk and sugar and drinking it. "Very well, I can be the canary over your cauldron," he joked mildly as Sirius came in with another tray for him, this one loaded with buttered toast, poached eggs, and sliced oranges.

"It would really be more useful if you'd let on without falling dead," Sirius quipped back.

"You suppose you think so," Remus said as he cut up the eggs with the edge of his spoon and arranged them on a slice of toast.

"You joke now, but I know you. You're just the type who'd think of breaking a curse the hard way, and so help me, I'd never speak to you again..."

Remus had to admit that his friend was at least partly right. He did remember something most wizards seemed to forget: that no curse, no matter how powerful, could survive a person willingly giving their life to break it. However, he thought it was mostly an academic point, something a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor should have filed away. It certainly wasn't how he intended to die; in fact there was no way of dying that he had any intention of.

Sirius went back to the door and called toward the master bedroom. "If either of you want tea, there's--"

WHOOM!

Even just seeing a patch of the hallway outside the room, Remus recognized the sound and flash from a great plume of flame, and he started up.

"Everyone all right in there!?" Sirius shouted.

"Didn't like the way that lace was sticking up at me!" Alastor answered. Remus settled down again.

"Ah. Good work. We have tea in here if either of you want it."

"Actually, I, ah... Think I'll see if Mum could use a hand in the kitchen," Bill said; his footsteps could be heard starting toward the staircase.

Sirius came back into the bedroom and crossed behind Lupin. "Speaking of things not to like..." He shuffled through the pile of condemned clothes and linens until he found the hideous purple dress robe, which he balled up and tossed into the fireplace with a gleeful grin. Remus couldn't help but smile himself as it caught.

"There's a pile of tea-bags in the kitchen, and Molly said she fired up the stove by hand, if you want to do that while it's still hot," Sirius told him. "Since we went to all the trouble to check that they were--"

Suddenly Mrs. Black's voice tore through the house. "SIRIUS LUCIEN BLACK!!! THROWING MY NOBLE HOUSE TO COMMON BLOOD-TRAITOROUS SWINE!! DISGRACE TO YOUR BLOOD! MURDERER OF YOUR FATHER! YOUR MOTHER'S ETERNAL SHAME!! . . ." Bill must have accidentally disturbed the portrait. Even two floors above her, every epithet was clearly audible.

"Couldn't she at least harp on someone else??" Sirius shouted.

"Once she quiets down, I'll go and take care of that in the kitchen," Lupin said and took the last bite of the toast.

"So after these, what about the furniture?"

"Knock it apart and put it in, too."

"The hard way, I assume. Is conjuring a sledge good enough or should I get a forge in here and make one?"

"Whichever you think best," Remus teased. "Only try not to enjoy it too much."

"We're not into those rooms yet," Sirius answered with a twisted smile as he rolled up another discarded garment for the fire.

Mrs. Black's latest tirade faded into silence. Lupin swallowed the last of his tea and went down to the kitchen, leaving his robe on Sirius's bedroom door. The house was still grimy and dismal; walking through it the work needing to be done hardly seemed any less than it had been the day before. In some way, though, it was amazing how much twenty-four hours had improved it. The simple fact that six people were here now, walking through the halls, working together for a good purpose, had attacked the cold, threatening air that had been here when they arrived, and already it was beginning to seem like a house--not yet a home, but not still the labyrinth it had been.

Nonetheless he softened his steps and kept tight to the far banister on the stairs overlooking the entry hall as he passed the mounted heads of a number of house-elves--no doubt Kreacher had been correct when he insisted that the Blacks had never dismissed one. He padded carefully in a wide circle around the faded silk curtains that concealed Mrs. Black's portrait, hanging where the twin staircases crossed at the head of the entry hall, but then it was only another half-flight down to the kitchen. Molly, Bill, and Charlie were all there, and the day's work here showed even more. The fireplace and stove were going strong, and the windows had been washed to admit more sunlight, as had the crystal which was all floating in the air, full of illuminating white flames, enough that the room looked almost sunny. On Lupin's advice, Molly was performing the kitchen's initial cleaning mundanely. She had already managed to carve islands of cleanliness around the sink, stove, and table and begun working outward from there; at the moment, she was up to her elbows in the merrily-bubbling sink, working on a pile of cookware. The stone floor had also been swept, and Bill, his black leather jacket hanging on a chair, was on his knees in a corner, attacking it with a scrub-brush. Charlie, the more broad-shouldered and muscular of the two brothers, stood over the table with a pencil stub in his hand, looking at a scrap of parchment. "Hey, Remus," he greeted.

"Good morning, everyone."

"Sorry about the noise a bit ago," Bill said. "I thought I'd stuff my ears and see how hard it'd be to get her down."

"Permanent sticking charms are always hard to get off," Molly remarked.

"Not as hard as whatever's holding her up, I'll tell you that," Bill said.

"Is there anything you and Sirius will need me to get?" Charlie asked. "I had a look around the attic and it's all cleaned out."

"Sirius told Kreacher--the house-elf--to move everything out of it."

"Speaking of Kreacher," Molly interjected, "keep out of the upper cupboards here. He climbed into them this morning and it'd be better just to leave him alone. Poor thing seems awfully distressed..."

"I can imagine," Lupin said. "His family's house is suddenly full of strangers, but what can we do?" The tea-kettle issued gentle wisps of steam, and he moved it to the stove to bring it to a harder boil.

"Anyway," Charlie started again, "I'm hopping out for some bedding, and I'll need something to reinforce one of the beams up there enough to tether him, so if there's anything you need, may as well get it while I'm out."

He stroked his chin. "Once the room is empty, we can probably just conjure any tools we'll need to get the wallpaper off... We will need paint, though, and just as well to buy brushes... Blue, be sure to get some bright sky blue paint."

"Wards off the evil eye," Bill concurred; as a curse-breaker he'd surely seen many ancient relics using blue for that reason.

"Oh, that's just superstition!" his mother chided.

"Even if it is, the intent is the thing," Lupin said. He took a saucepan from the pile that Molly had washed and put the heap of used tea-bags into it, pressing them into a flat layer at the bottom.

"...'Bright sky blue'..." Charlie repeated as he wrote it down. "Once you've stripped that room down, what are you going to use for furniture in there?"

"Oh, I don't know, really. If we could get into Sirius's Gringotts vault without looking suspicious, we could just buy some..."

"Me and Bill are looking for a flat--"

"I told you, you don't have to do that!" Molly insisted.

"Oh, Mum, let Ronnie be the big brother in the house for awhile. He doesn't need to be tripping over the two of us," Bill said.

"What I mean is, we won't need Mum and Dad to keep our stuff at the Burrow, so maybe they could spare a couple of beds," Charlie offered. "I don't know if you'd rather have new, if that would be safer or..."

"No, no, that would be wonderful, if you could--better than new. I'd be most grateful," Remus assured him. Nothing could be better for setting up a safe bedroom here than the atmosphere such a gift would bring from the Weasley home.

The kettle started bubbling noisily and puffing clouds of steam. He covered the tea-bags with boiling water and put a lid on them to steep before returning the kettle to the trivet on the table. The pan of tea-bags would just have to sit for several hours.

Charlie straightened up and took one last look over his list. "...'Grease for the dumbwaiters'... Have we got something to carry this much straw around? I hate to bring it in from the street and make a scene, but wrestling that through the Floo--"

"Ah, here." Lupin took his Castle from his pocket and offered it; Charlie already knew what it was. "If you'll take care of it and clean it up when you're finished."

"I surely will," Charlie said, taking it respectfully. "I'll be back soon!" He took a bit of Floo powder from his pocket and left through the fireplace to the Burrow amid a chorus of "Goodbye," "See you!"

Bill sat back from his scrubbing to see Charlie off, but he turned to Lupin before going back to work. "Remus, I've got to ask you something."

"Oh, Bill, don't..." his mother said.

"If you don't want to answer, that's all right," he persisted, "but that picture... What's she on about, saying Sirius killed his dad? Were they on opposite sides of the war, or...?"

"No," Lupin said. He'd been dreading having to talk about this since Mrs. Black's first outburst, as she always seemed to bring it up, but now there was nothing for it, and he sat down to speak. "Sirius's father committed suicide."

"Oh." Bill's hand started a little toward his mouth.

"It was during our sixth year in school. We were all staying over Christmas holiday when Sirius got the news," Remus explained. "The Daily Prophet showed quite poor taste in their reporting about it, and by the time everyone got back, the story was everywhere..." He took a deep breath. "Supposedly the Blacks were having a holiday party, with guests from all the great pureblood families, powerful people from the ministry, et cetera, and at some point Sirius's father left the room without a word. No one thought anything of it; he hadn't given any sign at all that something was wrong, but a little while later the guests heard a loud noise from upstairs. Even before they found him, they knew he was dead. Everyone was in the drawing room with that tapestry of the whole family tree. Living people's names show up on it in gold letters, and just at that moment, his name faded from gold to black. No note, no explanation--I don't suppose anyone will ever know why he did it...

"Sirius said that his father was always very withdrawn, always a darkly silent personality... He had barely seen him in years when it happened, but his mother blamed him, said that his breaking with their pure-blood ethic had disgraced his father enough to drive him to it. I'm sure as an explanation it was only hysterical, but it was the reason Sirius was finally disowned."

"If he wants to bring Harry in here, he'll have to tell him something about that," Molly pointed out darkly.

"I'm sure Sirius will tell Harry what he has to."

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room. The only sound for several moments was the rattling and scratching of Molly scouring dishes in the sink and Bill getting back to scrubbing the floor.

Lupin started to leave, but was struck with curiosity and broke the silence again. "Not just a permanent sticking charm, you say?"

Bill shook his head. "No. I couldn't tell you exactly what she did to stick that picture up, but if it didn't involve blood, then I miss my guess."

"In other words, we're probably stuck with her."

Something shuffled in the upper cabinets.

"Maybe that's for the best," Lupin said, seeing a chance to leave on a lighter note. "I'm sure Kreacher would miss her terribly."

Charlie got back just in time for lunch, and his mother sat him down to eat before unloading the supplies he'd gotten. Everyone came down to the kitchen except Alastor, who was absorbed in examining Mr. Black's old wardrobe with his usual fanaticism and had sequestered himself in the master bedroom; other than a burst of flame that consumed another one of the robes, no one had heard from him in hours. Molly took him a tray and no one envied her the job.

While they were all seated around the table, a small bolt of silver light zipped into the room and whirled around over their heads a few times before settling on the table. It was a message from Dumbledore, saying that he would be coming to the house later that day.

After the meal, they unloaded Lupin's house, except that he left the brushes and cans of paint stacked up behind the door until they were needed. Charlie had bought all the paint in bright azure blue, which wasn't what Remus had in mind, but he had to admit it was what he'd said, and there was no harm in an all-blue room. Bill took the grease and set about tuning up the dumbwaiters, and Charlie hauled several bales of straw up to the attic, along with an assortment of lumber and scrap-metal.

Work continued in Sirius's old bedroom. Once all the books and clothes had gone into the fireplace, he and Lupin turned to the furniture and didn't know what to do with the mattress except tear it apart. Once they'd done that and chased down all the stray bits of stuffing, then came the bedframe. It was a massive old four-poster that took conjured saws to get into small enough pieces, and by the time they were finished with it, it was late afternoon and both felt very much ready for a break.

When they came out into the third floor hallway, Bill was there at one of the dumbwaiters, and Lupin walked over to him while Sirius went downstairs. As he got closer, he could see Bill's hands and shirt smudged with old black grease and dusted here and there with red rust-powder.

"Coming along well? I know the two of us in there could hear it less and less."

"I've got this one just about in shape," Bill answered. He tapped the frame of the aperture with his wand. "Fourth floor." The car made only an ordinary soft rumble as it rose swiftly and smoothly up the shaft, past them to the floor above; he even heard the bell ring up there as it arrived.

"Very good!" Remus said appreciatively.

"Thanks. Of course, I haven't even started on the other one. This one was more of a trial than I thought, and the other sounded even worse; I think I'll wait and start on it tomorrow..."

"I don't blame you a bit. We had to saw apart the old bed in there, and the bookcase will need the same. I'd certainly like to put more of that off awhile, but--" He cut off as Bill raised a hand for silence.

In the pause, a metallically-softened but almost understandable echo issued from the dumbwaiter shaft. Bill inclined his head and leaned inside it, and Remus hesitantly did the same. It put them almost nose-to-nose but they didn't look at each other; both turned their attention down the shaft, which conducted Molly and especially Sirius's voices clearly from the kitchen.

"--And Bill said we're not going to get that portrait off the wall, so if Harry comes here you'll have to tell him something, with her ranting about your father--Sirius, does he know anything about your family?"

"Not yet, but he had to eventually. Good a time as any to tell him."

"Is it that simple? Is it?"

"Why not?"

"And I suppose it's as good a time as any to tell him about that Prophecy, too," she suggested bitterly.

"No. No one is telling him about the Prophecy, and that is flat."

"You keep saying that as if it's down to you to decide--"

"It is!"

"--Like you can just decide it's better to take him away from his aunt and uncle who raised him..."

"You've known him longer than I have, Molly. If you don't know that by now then you're blind and stupid."

Remus glanced over as a pained look crossed Bill's face.

"The point is, Harry isn't your son!"

"So what, he's yours?"

"No, just--"

"I'm his godfather! I'm the one James and Lily picked to take care of him! I suppose it's my fault I haven't been there all his life, that I got sent up with no trial!?"

"Well, with you in Azkaban, you couldn't expect Albus to--"

"Dumbledore had no right to take Harry!"

"He just gave him to the next people in line to take care of him, that's all."

"No, he didn't." Sirius's voice suddenly took on a calm, patient tone that Remus recognized as even more dangerous than his shouting. "According to the law, a parent's wizard relatives come before Muggle relatives, even if they're just related by the Blood-Bonding Spell."

Lupin backed off slightly, but not out of the dumbwaiter shaft or out of earshot; he saw where this was going.

"So we should have handed him to Pettigrew!?"

"No, we're going by the law, remember? If we weren't, I should've gotten him as the Godfather, and since we are, then by the law, Peter was dead. James and Lily still had one blood brother left." There was a long pause before he spoke again. "If you're going to say it, Molly, just say it."

Upstairs, Remus turned and started to walk away. He was aware of Bill staring after him and could still just hear Molly and Sirius...

"Just say what?"

"'Surely I wouldn't think of giving a child to a--'"

"You two do realize sound carries just lovely up these things, right?" Bill called suddenly.

A moment's pause. "GOOD!" Sirius shouted directly into the shaft loudly enough to make Bill jump back and rub his ears, then shut it on the kitchen end with a sharp hiss and slam.

On his way down the stairs Remus passed Molly on her way up; she looked unsure where she was going, and stopped awkwardly in her tracks when she saw him. "Oh, Remus, ah..."

"Excuse me, please, Molly," he said simply and pleasantly, and brushed past her. Especially given the way she looked at him now, Sirius had no doubt hit upon just what she'd been thinking--surely no one would think of giving a child into the care of a werewolf--but he was too used to worse to take offense, and in fact shared her shock to some degree.

He found Sirius alone in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a glass of water. "Hey, Moony. I take it you were listening in, too?"

No point in pretending; he nodded. "Molly does mean well, but..." he said. "Well, I only wish you'd left me out of it."

"Sorry." Sirius seemed to have more to say, but it just hung over the room for a few minutes. Remus looked at his pan of now-cold soaked teabags and started squeezing them out in silence.

"Did anyone even ask you?" Sirius finally asked.

"Dumbledore might have..." It was hard to remember; the weeks following James and Lily's deaths were all such a blur...

Sirius gave a scornful sniff. "I thought it would've been him, if anyone did."

"Was that wrong of him?"

"No, but if the usual robe from the Ministry had asked you, then you'd have had a chance to think about it. If it was Albus, on the other hand... Well, everyone knew he was your hero. If I were you, I'm sure I'd have been the same way... Not that I think he meant to take advantage, but he had to know as well as anybody that you'd agree to anything he told you he'd decided..."

You think so? his mind shot back, but he didn't say it. Why shouldn't Sirius think so? When Remus had said 'Dumbledore might have' asked him, it had seemed a little familiar to think that in that blurred expanse of grief, Albus might have been there, might have told him that Harry had been given to his aunt and uncle, "don't you think that's best?" And if it had happened that way, Sirius was right: he would only have nodded. That realization embarassed him, but then, Dumbledore was the one who had given him every chance he'd had to make something of his life--had let him come to school, had let him teach and even made some show of wanting to keep him on after he'd failed to keep control of his transformation. That same night, his instructions to Harry and Hermione had even saved Sirius from the Dementor's Kiss. But Sirius wasn't just being bitter...

"Do you have any trouble with Dumbledore now?" Remus asked. "That is, you're a member of the Order and he's in charge of it... Is that a problem?"

"Not to me," Sirius said. "I'm not fool enough to sabotage the Order over it, so I'll go along with whatever he decides, too, just to have peace within the ranks... I'll even promise to keep biting my tongue around the kids; disillusioning them about their Headmaster is NEWTs-level material," he joked, but not bitterly. "...But for now, I have a right to be angry and to have my say."

Lupin nodded slowly and started to make up the fire in the stove. The clatter of the wood inside it was the only sound for a long time. Despite his question, his mind was still caught on what Sirius had said before that. "You'd agree to anything he told you he'd decided"... Surely, he thought, his respect for Dumbledore wasn't wrong, but just as surely, it would be taking it too far to give his responsibility, his will, over to anyone so easily, and he couldn't escape the accusation. Harry Potter had spent ten years being raised by Muggles who gave every appearance of hating him and took every opportunity to grind him down. What could justify that? Who was responsible? Blaming Voldemort of course was the easy way, but was it Dumbledore, who brought him to that house? Was it Crouch, who thought his godfather didn't deserve a trial? Was it me, who stood idly by?

He got so lost in thought that he didn't notice Sirius coming over to stand next to him until the fire had caught and he stood up to find him there.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You're right, I shouldn't be hanging this on you. You can hit me if you like."

That was just an old joke James used to use in apologies to people he knew wouldn't do it, but Remus nonetheless shook his head as he set his pan of ink-tea on the heat to boil down. "I can't argue with what you said..."

"That only means it was below the belt. Go ahead."

Won over, Remus smiled and brushed Sirius's jaw lightly with his fist. The stubble on his friend's face tickled his knuckles.

"There, that's better," Sirius said.

The bell on the working dumbwaiter jangled. Sirius crossed to it and opened its door, and Charlie Weasley's voice came clearly down the shaft. "It's Charlie. Is Sirius still down there?"

"I am."

"The attic's as ready as it's going to be; we can get Buckbeak in here tonight."

"Oh, good," Sirius answered.

"I think the best way would be to Engorge the front window--open it up and just fly him right in."

"That's what I thought; no way we'll get him up all those stairs, and it's more subtle than landing him in the street."

"Speaking of subtle, wait until it's dark?"

"Sounds fine to me," Sirius called. He turned around so that Charlie wouldn't hear him grumble "Better wait until after Albus puts in his appearance, too..."

"By the way," Lupin said, "while you're moving Buckbeak, if he should happen to--"

"Shed a feather for a quill, I know..."

"Say, does Kreacher know about this?" Charlie's voice asked. "Wouldn't want him to get hurt."

"Much," Sirius added under his breath before answering. "I'll tell him to stay out of there. Have you seen him?"

"Not since this morning."

"Last I knew, he was here in the kitchen cupboards," Lupin said, turning toward him.

Sirius whipped around and stared for a moment before shaking his head. "Kreacher, we're taking over the attic to board a hippogriff, so stay out of it from now on." He waited expectantly, but the only sounds were slight echoes from the shaft and the pan bubbling on the stove.

The dumbwaiter bell jangled again, giving him a start. "Albus is here!" came Molly's voice. "He just Apparated in."

"Oh, goody," Sirius muttered as Lupin turned to look. "Kreacher, let me know if you heard what I told you." He started to turn, but suddenly jerked around again. "Remus!"

Something clattered in the cabinets above the stove, and Lupin turned just in time to see a crystal punch bowl fall from them. It struck the handle of the saucepan and sent it flying before hitting the floor, and Remus jumped back with a scream of pain as he was splashed with boiling tea and shattered glass.

"KREACHER!!"

Sirius charged across the room as Lupin grabbed a spare teacup and poured cold water from the sink over his burns. The broken glass had only bounced off his trousers and not cut him, but the tea had struck his left arm and shoulder, some splashing as high as his left cheek and the side of his neck. The water soothed the heat, but it still felt as if needles gripped into his skin everywhere he'd been splashed, tearing him every time he moved against his clothes.

"KREACHER, COME HERE!!!"

"Molly, could you bring the salve? I've burned myself," Lupin called.

"In Merlin's Rock you did!!" Sirius snapped. "It was this little--"

"Young Master calls for Kreacher...?"

Sirius seized the house-elf by his leathery arms and shook him violently. "Don't you dare hurt any of my friends, EVER!!! Do you hear me!?! If you ever do that again, I'll--- If you ever do anything like that again, it will be the greatest disgrace this house has ever known!!" he shouted. With that, the gravest threat that could be levelled at a house-elf, he threw Kreacher to the floor.

The door swung open and Albus Dumbledore swept into the room in a massive flourish of robes and silver hair; he seemed to bring with him a warm, calming glow, as he did everywhere he went, but here and now it might not be enough... "Sirius, please, control yourself."

"Oh, excuse me," Sirius said, his voice dangerously mock-pleasant.

Kreacher slunk past Dumbledore and out of the kitchen, glaring at Sirius all the way. "Greatest disgrace My Lady's house has ever known... Greatest disgrace..."

"That's right!"

Dumbledore frowned at him patiently. Lupin dreaded what might happen between them; he tried to take off his sweater, but the movement stung his burned skin and he gasped.

"You, sit down," Sirius barked. Crossing the room, he pulled out a chair for Remus to sit and then started to peel the sweater off him, very carefully.

"Sirius, I understand that having Kreacher here is hardly ideal," Dumbledore said, "but this is his house, also. We'll simply have to live with him, and to do that, we'll have to treat him with kindness and respect."

Sirius didn't answer; he'd gotten Remus's sweater off and begun unbuttoning his shirt.

"Sirius?"

"I heard you. Not that I think it'll help his mood any, but I have no intention of handling him the way my father would've..."

"Compared with how you handled him just now?"

"I told him not to deserve it like that again."

"Did he deserve that?"

"Apparently you know enough to tell me!" Sirius snapped, just as he started to take the sleeve off Lupin's scalded arm. He accidentally tugged the fabric, at which Remus felt more of those needles lancing through his skin and gave a small cry of pain despite himself. "Sorry," Sirius whispered, and continued very carefully.

"Albus is right," Remus said. "If we antagonize him, he'll find ways to twist your words and keep doing things..."

"All right, all right..."

Lupin wouldn't have felt so self-conscious if it were only his friend seeing him like this, but Dumbledore widened his sparkling eyes and blinked at him through half-moon spectacles. Sirius taking off his shirt had revealed not only the burns, but also still-dark-red scabs where he'd torn himself as a werewolf last full moon, and his ribs; he'd spent his entire adult life so thin they showed, except when he'd lived at Hogwarts. Worse yet, Molly came into the room just then with Bill and Charlie behind her; apparently Dumbledore's arrival had even roused Alastor from his task--his wooden leg could be heard on the stairs.

Molly had the salve tin in her hand. When she came into the room she slowed up for a moment and glanced at Dumbledore, as if watching him for a sign, but didn't stop moving toward Lupin.

"Remus, are you all right?" Dumbledore asked.

"I will be."

"You're insufferable," Sirius muttered.

At least I didn't say 'Yes, I'm fine', his mind answered, but the presence of the others held it back.

"Sorry I took so long; Charlie had some salve with him but it took a moment to find it," Molly said. She scooped up a great dollop on her fingers and started rubbing it on Remus's neck, not roughly but hard enough to make him tense.

Alastor came in; the Weasley brothers had paused just inside the door and had to make way for him. "What happened in here??" he asked, both eyes catching sight of Lupin.

"He was boiling down his ink; Kreacher splashed him with it," Sirius told him.

"So I'll have to start over on that," Lupin said gamely. No good to give up after this...

"Ink shouldn't be any trouble," Dumbledore said. "Is it for any special use?"

Remus found himself reluctant to answer and stayed silent.

"Writing protection charms for the house," Molly said.

"Excellent idea. I believe I have some dragon scale and copper ink I can bring you--perfect thing for it, writes a lovely iridescent green."

"That would be good, thank you," Remus said. He always loved a chance to use such fine ink, but for the intended purpose, his thanks weren't as sincere as he wished.

"The house seems to be coming along very well," Dumbledore said. "I believe you'll have that bedroom around very shortly."

"We might take a bit longer to be extra certain of it," Sirius said. He took a deep breath and continued very purposefully. "I'd like to have Harry stay there; he did say he wanted to live with me."

There was a long pause as Albus stroked his beard thoughtfully. Molly turned toward him with an almost pleading expression. In a glance around the room, Remus realized that everyone was looking toward Dumbledore except Sirius, who stared grimly into space awaiting his answer, and Moody, who was looking at Dumbledore with only his normal eye; probably the other was trained at Sirius. He himself felt an almost magnetic temptation to keep his eyes on the Headmaster--especially since his chair was aimed in that general direction and the burns made it painful to turn his head, but he decided to turn a little and look over at Sirius, who noticed and showed him a tight smile. Even when he raised his eyebrows and glanced in other directions, it was in a sarcastic expression for Remus's benefit.

"Under the circumstances..." Dumbledore said, "now that Voldemort has returned, I think that we can all agree that Harry's safety is the first priority. The most certain way to ensure that would be for him to stay at his aunt and uncle's house."

"Don't you think that's a lot of weight for Arabella to carry?" Sirius asked coolly.

"You should know that I haven't been depending solely on her efforts all these years. As long as he's with his Aunt, he's with his mother's blood, the blood that--"

"Don't give me that!" Sirius snapped, sending a ripple through the room. "And don't talk about Lily like some sort of stranger--she was family to me! She loved Harry so much she died to save him, and you use it as an excuse to give him to the people who had him living in a cupboard?? Do you think she'd have wanted that!? Do you think as her friend--her blood-brother, let alone Harry's godfather-- Do you think I'm going to stand here and listen to it!?"

Remus thought he saw Dumbledore waver just the slightest bit, almost imperceptibly. Everyone was looking at him again; the Weasleys seemed afraid to get in the middle, and Alastor backed off to observe with a more pragmatic air. Lupin felt his friend's every verbal blow at the Headmaster in his own belly, but he wasn't hoping for them to fail...

"I meant no such offense. Please, calm down."

"Maybe being calm about it all is what got us here," Sirius growled.

"What I was saying," Dumbledore pressed on, "is that in any event, the magic that protected Harry from Voldemort back then is present wherever Lily's blood is, including in his aunt..."

"But not in me?" Sirius tapped his own forehead--where someone placed a drop of their blood on the recipient of a Blood-Bonding Spell. Lupin, Sirius, James, Lily, and Peter had all cast it on each other back in their school days, and Sirius had cast it on baby Harry in taking on the role of Godfather.

"Sirius, I know that the connections you forged with the Blood-Bonding Spell mean a great deal to you--"

He gave a scornful sniff; obviously thinking 'a great deal' didn't describe it.

"--But in a situation like this, it simply isn't the same thing as--"

"So the family you're born into is what matters, is it?" The whole room seemed to hold its breath as Sirius crossed it. He stood face-to-face with Dumbledore for a barely a second, but it felt much longer. "Seems I've heard that somewhere recently," he said, then swept out the kitchen door and left it wide open as he ascended the stairs. Lupin tried to rise, but the stinging of his burns gave him pause, and Dumbledore had just started moving to follow Sirius when from the landing came the short hiss of a curtain jerked aside.

"SIRIUS LUCIEN BLACK!!! BLOOD-TRAITOR!! PATRICIDE!! THROWING AWAY YOUR NOBLE FAMILY TO CONSORT WITH MUDBLOODS AND MONGRELS! OH, TO THINK THAT ONLY A WRETCH LIKE YOU SHOULD BE LEFT TO CARRY ON OUR NAME!!"

Remus leaned forward to rest his forehead on his hand. Bill slammed the door to muffle Mrs. Black's shrieks, but with the kitchen only a half-flight from her, it was still useless to try to discuss anything until she fell silent. When she finally did, Dumbledore only just opened his mouth before he paused at a faint crashing sound from upstairs, followed by another, and another...

"We had to knock apart the furniture in Sirius's old... The bedroom we've been working on," Remus explained.

There was a long, awkward pause.

"Well, he... I know he means well," Molly offered.

Remus sighed. Although surrounded by several of his most dear and respected allies, he suddenly felt very much alone in the room.