Hand-me-Downs

Molly sent Ron, Ginny, and Hermione back to the Burrow after breakfast the next morning. For Remus, she tore up toast and mashed it with his eggs so that he could eat it out of a bowl on the floor, garnished with a few sausage links and accompanied by a smaller bowl full of milk. He had been so concerned with Sirius that even after the whole day before trapped in the closet with no food, he hadn't thought to eat after he'd been rescued and was now so hungry that when Molly picked up his bowls intending to wash them, he followed after her and whined until she realised he wanted more. He finished off two helpings of the egg cereal and three bowls of milk, then bowed to her as the best way he could think of to say "thank you" before going upstairs, still licking egg yolk off his muzzle.

On the fourth floor, a breakfast plate Molly had taken up still lay outside the sitting room. Sirius obviously hadn't touched it; as Lupin's padded footsteps approached, a silvery lizard leapt up from eating the eggs, scurried under the edge of the plate, and shrank out of sight. Remus sniffed around the door; the human scent there was too cold for Sirius to have come out when he wouldn't have seen. He pawed the door and yowled a little, simply to let his friend know he was there, then curled up in the doorway to wait. At the least, by this time tomorrow he would be human again.

At midday, Molly sent lunch for them both up the dumbwaiter and then came upstairs to fetch the two large bowls of stew out for them. "Just threw some leftovers together in a pot," she apologized, since she was mainly concerned with preparing a great dinner for that evening when Arthur would be bringing Shacklebolt and Tonks. She knocked on the sitting room door and called for Sirius; getting no answer, she just left the stew, picked up the cold breakfast plate--the now-very-tiny lizard skittered away into another room--and took it back down the stairs with her, sighing and shaking her head.

Several minutes later, Remus at last heard the sound of someone moving inside the sitting room, and Sirius hesitantly emerged and took his food. Remus followed him down the hall as closely as possible without tripping him up, and after pausing for a moment--seemingly realising that Lupin would stay with him even at the cost of his own meal--he went back for the other bowl and carried both down to the master bedroom. Remus again wedged his nose into the first crack as the door opened, and he quickly slipped inside; he wasn't going to let himself be shut out this time.

Sirius ate slowly, then lay down, never saying a word. Even when Remus jumped up onto the mattress beside him, he didn't turn his head; he just lay still on his back and stared up into the canopy of the bed. His every breath seemed to carry a hint of a sigh.

Remus wished he could move the moon forward a day and be human again so that he could talk to Sirius, lay a hand on his shoulder... As a wolf, he couldn't speak, couldn't hold a wand or even a quill. Canine noises, movement, and touch were all he had to communicate with, and with his closest friend so clearly in pain, he had to do as much as he could. He crept up beside him and lay down with one paw over him, resting his head on Sirius's chest, just as Sirius had done as a dog the night he had carried Remus to bed in his Castle.

Sirius barely even glanced down at him. After several minutes of silence, Remus nuzzled forward a little and licked him gently over his cheeks and chin, which were again scratchy with whiskers. At that, Sirius rolled over, away from him, and buried his face in the pillow. Lupin snuggled up against his back, willfully holding himself back from whimpering, and counted the hours until he turned human again. Maybe sixteen now, maybe fifteen...

This too shall pass, he told himself. He survived twelve years of Dementors; whatever this is, it can't be worse than them... But the truth was that Lupin was deeply afraid for him. On the surface, he looked better now than on that night in the Shrieking Shack when for Remus he had come back from the dead albeit looking the part, little more than skin and bones. Underneath, however, somehow the last two weeks seemed to have left him even more deeply damaged than the Sirius who had tried to claw past him to get to Wormtail, moreso than the Sirius who, so he'd heard, had asked Cornelius Fudge for a newspaper "because he missed doing the crossword."

The side of his head was nuzzled up to Sirius's shoulder, one ear just at the middle of his back. The gold braid on the robe felt scratchy against his cheek despite the cushion of fur, but even through the velvet, that ear could hear Sirius's breath, hear his heart beating. Hold onto that. That's all you have to do. Just hold on to that and things will get better...

For twelve years, Remus had gone on thinking that he was the only one left: James and Lily, Peter, and Sirius all gone... Hold on, Padfoot, please... Don't leave me again...

Remus fell asleep like that, laying against Sirius. He dreamed again of the shadow that had burgeoned and swallowed him when he grabbed hold of it, and again he struggled to move through it even as it threatened to drown him. Now not only the darkness enveloped him, but golden ropes wrapped around him, like an insect in a spider's web, and he realized that he wasn't fighting toward the surface. Indeed, he could look over his shoulder and see clear air; if he made for it, the shadow and the web would let him free, but deeper into the darkness was something glowing and precious, a heart beating, sending ripples through the darkness that washed warmth over him. He knew he had to get to it, that it was more important than the air, and he struggled deeper. The harder he fought, the more heavily the darkness pressed in on him, and the more tightly the golden filaments enwrapped him, but they couldn't stop him completely. If I reach it, I defeat you! Even if you kill me, I win if I can reach... The battle became an endless moment: fighting with all his strength and inching forward, even as the dark water and shining chains piled more and more heavily upon him, until he knew that he would never be able to get free of them before he drowned, until he knew that he was going to die. His chest howled, but his fingers were nearly there...

The warm, pulsating light, so close he could feel its electric aura... Just one more inch, just one more breadth of a hair...

Sirius sat up in bed, upending Lupin's dream and spilling him out into wakefulness drenched in its heavy black ether. He had twisted onto his back in his sleep and now lay with his hind legs stretched sideways but his ears smushed into the featherbed and his front feet pawing the air. At the sound of Arthur Weasley's voice, he flipped himself over.

"...Hate to intrude like this, but they're at the Burrow now, and we wanted... Well, we thought it would be good if you were there in the kitchen when they came, and if you could be there as a dog. That is, meeting you might be kind of a shock you know, probably better to be able to explain it all before they have you standing in front of them..."

Sirius nodded and rose. "...Right..." After a moment, a more confused look passed over his face; was he having trouble transforming? Lupin hopped down from the bed, came up next to him and looked up at him. Sirius looked down and met his eyes, then finally--pop--turned into the great shaggy black dog, and the two of them followed Arthur down to the kitchen. Albus and Molly were already there, Albus magically setting the table while Molly fussed over laying out the food and taking inventory: Roast chickens, potatoes, gravy, peas, carrots, trifle ready on the sideboard, fresh bread, butter set out--"Should we have jam?"

"I'll fetch some when I go to get them," Arthur said.

He led Lupin and Sirius over to a large throw rug beside the fireplace and they took the invitation to settle down on it. Nearby was a bowl of water and a pan of chicken: a mix of giblets, bones, and loose meat. "Sorry about that," Molly said. "I just wanted it to really look like we have dogs..."

"Well, I believe that's everything set," Albus announced, looking around. He placed a loaf of bread on a plate and cast "Portus" on it, then offered it to Arthur.

"I'll be back presently," Mr. Weasley said, taking the plate. He touched he loaf and blinked away, presumably to the Burrow to fetch the guests.

The scent of dinner was getting the better of Lupin, and he ate some of the loose chicken while they waited, but Sirius was again quiet and still, laying stretched out on the rug with his large black paws in front of him. Remus nudged the pan of chicken over right next to him, but he made no move toward it.

As Remus lay back down, he cast a glance over at Dumbledore. He had to admit that he didn't know what to do about Sirius's troubles now, and despite everything he still found himself nursing a childish hope that the Headmaster could sweep in and solve their problems just as he used to do. However, Albus was only watching for the others to arrive.

A few minutes after Arthur had left, a great poof! sounded and a knot of over a half-dozen people appeared in the room, clustered tightly around the loaf of bread. Albus welcomed them and invited them all to sit at the table, and as the crowd broke up, Lupin could get a better look at them all. Arthur of course was back, and had brought Charlie--who set a jar of jam on the table as he sat down--and Bill. Emmeline Vance was there also, as was Dedalus Diggle--which must mean that Alastor was guarding the Department of Mysteries. The last three were people Lupin hadn't seen before. One of them was a petite witch with black hair and round, pink cheeks; from Arthur's description, this must be Hestia Jones, who worked in the Ministry's mailroom. That would make the other two the Aurors.

The young witch with the fair, heart-shaped face then had to be Nymphodora Tonks. She wore bluejeans and a popular T-shirt with a blowup of a Chocolate Frog card on it, and her hair was a burgundy chin-length flip. She had a ready smile and a twinkle in her eyes, and, knowing that she was related to Sirius, Lupin thought he could see some resemblance in the finely-sculpted angles of her face--not in her dainty nose or dewdrop eyes or pouty lips, but perhaps in the line of her jaw, and just here and there where he couldn't put a finger on it.

The man who was presumably Kingsley Shacklebolt stood tall and solid, with rich dark-chocolate skin. He wore a silver hoop in his right ear and no hair on his head, and overall cut a striking figure, despite a black-and-green vertically-striped robe that didn't suit him at all. As he went to take his seat at the table, he noticed Remus looking at him, and his dark, alert eyes widened. Lupin knew that his werewolf traits had been recognised, and he dipped his head graciously to greet Shacklebolt and show that he was properly-medicated and rational. The Auror seemed assured by the gesture and sat down without comment.

As the dinner began, Dumbledore of course led the conversation, telling the guests the entire story of how Voldemort had struck at the conclusion of the Triwizard Tournament and returned to power, killing Cedric Diggory and attacking Harry Potter, who barely escaped. He spoke of Fudge's refusal to believe the truth and the danger he was thus leading Wizardkind toward. The rest of the table was silent as he spoke; no one even began eating until he noticed them all staring grimly at him and invited them to start before Molly's hard work got cold.

Once the dinner began, the conversation spread. Molly and her sons were particularly good at drawing out the guests and encouraging them to speak their own minds. Hestia had initially wanted to think that Voldemort was gone for good, but the Ministry's insistence on it had at last become so desperate and fearful that she realised the pleasant illusion couldn't be true. Kingsley had been ordered to drop otherwise-promising Death Eater-related leads in both the investigation of the Department of Mysteries break-in and the hunt for Sirius Black, and he saw his duty as an Auror as going beyond fealty to his Ministry employers. Tonks chafed against the smear campaign directed at Harry; the Ministry and the Daily Prophet had sung a different tune in previous years when he'd done heroic things--she remembered his first-year rescue of the Philosopher's Stone and second-year slaying of the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets--but now that he was saying something they didn't like, they had turned on him, thinking that he could be discredited because of his youth. Her own girlish nose wrinkled as she said it.

"Although," Shacklebolt reminded her, "he was taken in by Sirius Black, Confunded into ranting that Black was innocent. No telling what he could have planted in Potter's mind."

The black dog gave a snort.

"Sirius's case never came to trial," Dumbledore said, steepling his fingers. "On the surface, it seemed too clear-cut... Having been on the Wizengamot at the time, however, I must say that the story Harry and his friends told does not contradict any of the evidence, and it also matches precisely with the account Sirius himself gave the night he was briefly recaptured. It would be the first time I'd heard of a Confundus Charm resulting in three victims with the exact same, unshakeable, in-no-way-impossible story."

"Perhaps it wasn't a Confundus Charm he used. In any case, the notion of Peter Pettigrew having lived twelve years as a rat with a missing toe is far-fetched."

"Far-fetched, but not impossible, and in my years I have seen many far-fetched stories turn out to be true," Albus said. "Perhaps Sirius could have offered evidence to prove his claim. When we held our own Inquisition, we threw away the chance to ever know."

Remus smiled to see Dumbledore standing up for Sirius, but despite his momentary reaction, Sirius himself appeared unmoved.

Talk on various subjects continued through the meal--Molly got a round of commendations on her cooking, set off by Hestia and Dedalus--but the consensus held that matters of business should be resolved before dessert, specifically whether the guests would be inducted as full members of the Order. Obviously, they had satisfied themselves about Jones, Shacklebolt, and Tonks' trustworthiness before bringing them to their headquarters, "but," Dumbledore said, "as one final matter that must be seen to first, we have yet to introduce you to some of the members present here tonight. Arthur, if you would be so kind?"

"After Arthur told me that Mundungus Fletcher was a member of your Order, I doubt anything could shock me," Shacklebolt said. "And I already noticed that one of you is a werewolf."

Hestia gave a little gasp, but Charlie remarked "Good eye, Kingsley."

"Yes, you're quite right." Arthur rose, beckoned the guests up, and led them around to the throw rug in the corner. Lupin sat up to meet him, and Arthur rubbed him behind the shoulders. "This is Remus Lupin, who happens to be a... to have lycanthropy, yes."

"Professor Lupin," Kingsley said, "I should have guessed. I've heard quite a bit about you; all the reliable things have been good."

Hestia approached him, but hesitantly, and hung back as Tonks crouched down right next to him and looked him over with bright-eyed curiosity. Her eyes were rather like those of a child looking at an exotic creature in a zoo, but he didn't take offense, and indeed when she ducked to the side to try to see his profile, he obligingly turned his head. "Never met a werewolf in person before, not when they're changed, anyway," she said. "So he's safe?"

"He's taken the Wolfsbane Potion, which makes him safe for this Full Moon, yes."

"And with the potion, he's just like usual, only a wolf?"

Even as Arthur answered "Yes, that's my understanding," Lupin nodded his head. By the look on Tonks' face, he expected her to ask any moment now whether it was all right to pet him, but in the meantime, Hestia diffidently extended a hand. He wasn't sure what she expected, except that she was feeling him out; he sniffed without getting his nose too close, then bowed his head to her, and it seemed to help.

"But, well, Remus isn't... That is, he's not the one I thought you might..."

"He's not the shocker," Bill put in for his father.

"Oh?" Shacklebolt questioned.

Arthur stepped around Remus to where the black dog still lay flat on the floor, chin on his paws, and Arthur had to bend down quite low to give him an indicating rub around the ears. "Well, Kingsley Shacklebolt, this... This is Sirius Black."

Tonks whipped around to stare at him. Shacklebolt started back in disbelief, but for only a moment before he caught Arthur's earnest eyes. "You're not joking!"

"No, Arthur is quite serious." Dumbledore rose and swept around the table to come up beside them. "It's all true, Kingsley. Sirius Black is an unregistered Animagus, as was James Potter and as is Peter Pettigrew. Sirius was never in league with Voldemort--" Hestia shuddered at the name "--and was not the Potters' Secret-Keeper; they switched to Pettigrew at the last moment, hoping to misdirect the Death Eaters and not knowing that he was their spy. After the Potters' deaths, it was Sirius, not Peter, who went after the other mad with grief, and it was Peter who caused an explosion and killed Muggle bystanders. He cut off his finger and escaped as a rat, leaving Sirius to take the blame. ...And we all let him do it."

Shacklebolt had been dumbstruck for a second, but recovered before Albus finished. "What proof do you have?"

"Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger will all attest to having seen Pettigrew the night Sirius was captured and subsequently vanished from Hogwarts--as will Professor Lupin, when he is able to speak," Albus said. "Unfortunately, three students and a werewolf are not enough to clear Sirius's name before the Ministry, and in Remus's case, I thought it better not to put him in the position of testifying to what he saw. As the only adult witness and a werewolf, his word would only have incriminated him. You all know that he would not have recieved even-handed treatment from the Ministry."

"I might add," Arthur piped up, "Pettigrew was... Well, when he was posing as a rat, we... We had no idea, of course, and... ah... we kept him as a pet..." His face turned bright red as he said it. "I didn't see him turn human, but I can tell you we had what looked like a common rat, didn't seem magical at all, that had a toe missing on its front foot, and that we owned for something like ten or twelve years..."

"About three times as long as a garden-variety rat ought to live," Charlie admitted. By now, he, Bill, and Molly were also looking deeply embarassed.

"Mum always said she could never imagine Cousin Sirius as a Death Eater," Tonks offered.

"What about him?" Kingsley asked, motioning to the dog at his feet. Sirius still lay there without even looking up at him, as if he really were just a dog that didn't understand a word they said. "If I'm going to believe that this is Sirius Black, I need to be able to recognise him."

"He can resume his human form if it's safe for him to do so," Albus said, "and that is up to the three of you."

Tonks and Hestia nodded. "If he is innocent, he has nothing to fear from me," Shacklebolt said.

"Then Sirius, if you would?"

The black dog lifted his shoulders and stretched, then with a pop transformed again into Sirius Black as they would have expected to see him, tall and thin with unkempt black hair and a dark robe. Hestia jumped a little, but by the look on her face, she was already seeing the hollows around his eyes in a new light.

"Sirius Black?" Shacklebolt queried.

Sirius nodded, and shook Shacklebolt's hand languidly when it was offered.

"Wow, Cousin Sirius!" Tonks exclaimed. "You remember me, don't you? Andromeda's Little Nymph?"

"Of course I do."

"You'll have to excuse Sirius if he's a little quiet; he's been feeling under the weather lately," Molly put in. "Dessert, anyone?"

"Oh, yes, please!" Diggle said.

Molly started dishing up servings of trifle and passing them around, not forgetting to set a portion out for Remus. To Sirius's apparent surprise, Tonks took him by the arm and pulled him to a seat beside her, but he prodded his dessert halfheartedly, and even his cousin gave up trying to draw him into conversation as he turned from the table and stared off into space, in the general direction of the fireplace mantel.

Lupin found he didn't have the stomach for sweets either. He longed to be able to speak, to tell everyone, Sirius isn't like this. This isn't our Sirius Black. The true Sirius would never ignore his friends and guests--but now when Arthur needed him to confirm something, he practically had to shout to get Sirius's attention for even a nod. Of course, the true Sirius would never have thought of killing Kreacher, no matter what he had done. He wouldn't just be lurking silently around the house like a shadow...

Like a shadow... His was turned away from Lupin as well, his hair was long enough to hide the back of his neck, and he was facing the fireplace in that nearly-black robe... Could it even be the same one? This robe no longer made Sirius look as if his features had been pasted onto someone else's picture. Remus realised that it was all so chillingly like Sirius's father in his dream, standing staring at the fireplace mantel, closed off even to a family row going on behind him... Sirius had said, after getting the news of his father's death, that he was always very withdrawn, always darkly silent, that it seemed he could never bring himself to express emotion short of killing a servant or coming to blows with his older son, that at times he merely haunted the house like a shadow...

Back then, Sirius had had difficulty finding much grief in his heart for his father's passing, but spent some time grappling with fears about how much of his father was in himself, and Moony and Prongs had assured him that no, he wasn't like that at all. Far from a quiet lurking shadow, their Padfoot was always forthright with his sharp, ready wit. His temper could at times be violent, but he would never abuse a defenseless creature like a house-elf or a child.

He was certainly not someone who would ever raise a wand to his head and...

Remus watched him closely, afraid of the moment when he would get up and leave the room, dreading the thought that he might walk out of a gathering without a word, without any overt sign that something was wrong. In his heart, he thanked Dumbledore, Shacklebolt, and Bill Weasley for staying and talking long into the night, clinging to the sensation that the party had not yet broken up and keeping Sirius obligated enough to remain there with them. Unfortunately, it couldn't last until morning. Shacklebolt finally shook the remaining hands around the table to take his leave, and Bill left with him, taking the Portkey back to the Burrow. Albus stood to see them off, and once they blinked away, Sirius finally rose.

"Sirius?" Albus brought him up short for a moment. "Is everything all right?"

He nodded wordlessly and continued out the door. Remus did his best with his canine face to give Dumbledore a look that said everything was not all right, but dared only a moment's pause before following on Sirius's heels, trying to think of anything he could do...

When they reached the master bedroom and he leapt up onto the bed beside Sirius, Remus nosed under the pillows where he had left his own worn night-robe, and as Sirius made to lay down, Remus pulled it out and tossed it across his lap. For a moment, he only looked confused, so Lupin carefully took the first clasp of the velvet robe in his teeth and tugged at it. The gold braid scratched, and the velvet caught at his nose and made him sneeze, but Sirius got the idea and took the clasp himself. "I get it... I don't understand it, but if it makes you happy," he said, and did indeed change into the offered garment.

The two of them settled into bed, and when Lupin lay against his friend's side, this time Sirius didn't turn away, but turned toward him and lay an arm over him. Comforted by that, Remus had fallen to drowsing when he heard Sirius take a sharp breath and noticed the tension in that arm. Clearly he was awake, and Remus raised his head and nuzzled his chin.

"I don't know what's wrong with me..." Sirius said in a strained whisper. "I suppose Albus was right after all. Dear Morgan, I don't want Harry to see me like this..."

Remus crept forward and licked Sirius's face gently; he felt the muscles squeezed tight under his tongue and tasted the salt of tears on his friend's nose. It made him ache with sympathy, but at the same time he was glad to hear Sirius's voice and taste his tears. They gave him such a feeling of hope that it felt like joy amid this pain.