Charmed Curses

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Disclaimers and Notes: Harry Potter is not mine, nor are any of the characters or items used in this fanfiction (thus, the word/term "Fanfiction"). HP belongs to J. K. Rowling, and she's a wonderful author for it. I respect her. Her work is beautiful, to say the least.

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Sorry, I meant to get this up yesterday...

O_O Yesh! The reviews keep coming! ... "I'm experiencing a sensation altogether new to me... and frankly, I LOVE it!!!" (MSTK Movie) Geez, thank you all! I'm sooo happy! You're reviews inspire me to write... much better and faster, that is. Chapters will be up as soon as possible (forgive typos and spelling mistakes, I spend HOURS trying to correct these to perfection, but I always miss something). I am a very busy university/college bound senior, but I will take the time to write this if the response is good (I'm sorry to say my other stories will have to therefore rote...).

Again, I will e-mail any people who want me to tell them when I've updated. That is so you aren't sitting around waiting.... and waiting.... and thinking of particularly nasty things to become of me if I don't hurry. Writing isn't something I do on a regular basis, nor is it in my career plan. I have other things to do. But this story is slowly become my "pride of joy", so to speak. Thanks.

Thank you.

READ and REVIEW!!! (It makes me giddy just looking at them all! Like I'm rolling through a million dollars or something!)

Geuna~

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Charmed Curses

By Lady Geuna

Rated: PG (I don't think it's that bad. It's not like anyone's doing "the freaky thing" or anything like that! ~_~')

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The Search (Part 1)

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"The Dementors are moving M-Master..."

"Good. Very good, Wormtail. How soon?"

"T-They will reach the Underground with-w-within the next few hours, I t-think. It is s-still day, but the rainstorm is helping them... T-The c-c-clouds are blocking out much of the s-sun... D-Dementors h-hate the l-light..." Pause. The pathetic excuse for a man was trembling, his silver right hand clinching and unclenching nervously. But for once, his nervousness wasn't due to being in his Master's presence. He noticed this at once.

Voldemort shifted his fiery gaze toward his servant. "What is it?" His voice spoke volumes on his irritation. If Wormtail wasn't careful, he would suffer more pain than he had his petty life.

Wormtail seemed startled by the question, as if considering whether Voldemort could read his thoughts... Hm, that wasn't necessarily out of the question, not was it? That prospect now made him more scared.

The Dark Lord let out low hissing sound, then added quietly, "I hate to see one of my most trusted servants in such a state." This was a lie, or course. He didn't care at all, and probably wouldn't ever. No creature without a soul can feel...

".... D-Do... Do you really t-think Malfoy was c-c-correct...? I-I mean... h-how could he have seen... s-seen..." Wormtail couldn't get the name out. A bead of sweat rolled down his cheek. "C-Can it b-be true-?"

"I don't doubt it at all," Voldemort hissed lowly.

There was more to it than that... But Wormtail didn't get the message that his master didn't want to continue on that subject (He never was very observant of things like that.). But the sheer fact that his own master believed that... that he was alive made the realization that much more terrifying. He just had to ask, "H-How, Master-?"

"Don't ask me anything more," he snapped, causing Wormtail to gasp and stumble back in fright. The sniveling man dropped to knees and began mumbling his apologies rapidly, over and over. Angered, Voldemort simply kicked at Wormtail, causing the man to fall painfully onto his back. He made no move to get up. "Stop your sniveling, rodent! Is there anything more you would like to add, or..." His eyes actually blazed, glowed as if lit by Hell's fire. "Or have I the displeasure of having you in my presence for no reason at all?" Wormtail was scared out of his wits now. He knew it. Yet still he prompted, in a voice that could freeze blood, "Are you, rodent?"

He was raising his wand, and at that moment another man entered the room. The man fall to one knee immediately, removing his hood. His silver hair fell over his eyes, casting them in shadow. Voldemort grinned at this. "Ah, Lucius."

"Forgive me Master for my intrusion, but I know it would be your wish to hear me..."

Voldemort had forgotten about Wormtail, lowering his wand as his attention turned to the man. "What news do you bring me?" He made a gesture with his hands, giving Mr. Malfoy his permission to rise.

He lifted his head to look at his master. Lucius did not smile nor frown in his presence, but an air of smugness still radiated from his being. But there was also fear.

There was always fear. Fear was power. The one true power over man.

Mr. Malfoy did, however, give a glancing look over to Wormtail, his pale eyes glittering with mild distaste. As if Wormtail didn't deserve to be at his side every hour of every day... But that was just the point.

Wormtail was nothing like Lucius. Lucius was cunning, held power of his own and over others. Wormtail was a coward, sniveling and used his position as a Death Eater to keep the "bigger bullies" away. And while Lucius had a family, and a number of other things he held of value, Wormtail had nothing to loose other than his life... Or his soul.

Wormtail gulped, bringing himself to his kneels again, but didn't rise any farther. "M-My Lord...?"

"Leave us," Voldemort said simply, waving a gray colored hand at him. "I shall deal with you after I am done here."

Wormtail nodded quickly, jumped to his feet, and fled through the door as quickly as his feet could carry him. Once he was gone, Lucius Malfoy spoke, his eyes once again cast toward the floor. "How has my information served you, my Lord?"

"Well, Lucius, very well. You have pleased me greatly." His mouth took on a very grotesque shape, similar to was a normal human would call a smirk. He leaned back leisurely into his armchair, his eyes turning to gaze at the fire. "You have more for me." This was not a question. Maybe could read the thoughts of his followers...?

Mr. Malfoy nodded curtly. "The Ministry has gotten wind of unusual Dementor activity. I understand that it is of your doing, my Lord?"

"Indeed. What does the Ministry plan on doing about it?"

"The Ministry is too busy working out excuses to explain their behavior. The fools can't (or just refuse to) see the truth even when it's right in their face." Voldemort didn't mind the mans sarcastic, bitter tone as long as it wasn't directed toward himself. And he particularly detested the Ministry. They would be some of the first to go. "Though the Dementors may get... hungry during their journey.... While it is still day, they become very weak. They might resort to feeling off any human they come across. My Lord, if bodies start turning up..."

Voldemort snorted. "A inexpensive casualty at the most. Since when do you ever care about bystanders, Lucius?"

"B-But my Lord, it's not that I care about-"

"Do not confuse your concerns, Lucius, as my concerns. Your priorities are... very different from mine. What you have to loose is unimportant, understand?"

"Y... Yes, Lord..."

"You're sacrifices will one day pay off, Lucius. You have my word on that. Voldemort always rewards his most loyal Death Eaters, Lucius. As Wormtail was rewarded for his loyalty, and sacrifice of flesh."

"T-Thank you, my Lord." Bowed even lower, his forehead touching his knee. Was this man really willing to loose his wife and son for his master...? Only time would tell on that....

"Besides," he added darkly. "It won't be long... The blood of my foes shall paint the sky... All of them..." The fire light reflected in his eyes.

And he Laughed.

Laughed.

High pitched laugher.

Louder..

"Harry?"

Louder. Ear splittingly lou-

"HARRY!!!!!"

Harry let out a strangled cry as he was yanked out of his dreams. Something was hitting him repeatedly. He was being flogged mercilessly by... a pillow? Harry tried to yell at whoever it was too stop, but he wasn't able to get a word out before another blow hit. At a loss, he couldn't do anything. Until another pillow came fly, at full force, and punted Harry's attacker in the head. Harry's assailant let out a cry and went crashing down onto the bed next to him.

"He's bloody awake, ye' git!" It was Seamus, who was fully dressed and now walking for the door. "Everyone's already up," the Irish boy said, annoyed. "What're you jus' all standin' around for, let's get down there!" He left the room, most likely to go to the Great Hall.

Harry fumbled for his glasses on the night stand, quickly putting them on so he could properly glare at his best friend. "Are you crazy!?" He gave Ron a light punch as he sprang up to rummage for cloths in his trunk. "That's not the way you wake someone up in the morning, twit."

Ron, looking exasperated and red in the face, just glared back. "You don't think I tried!? I thought someone'd put a-a sleeping draught in your pumpkin juice last night or something!"

Harry gave him an odd look, quickly changing out of his pajamas and into his Hogwarts robes. "What time is it..."

Ron, who was already dressed, still had a look of frustration on his freckled face (But he wasn't looking at Harry, he didn't want to watch another young Wizard dress...). ~

(Geuna: No, I'm not anti-Slash (read my comedy SLASH: The Field Study Of An Unknown World), but it doesn't work in this story!!! K?)).

~ "Half the school's already down in the Great Hall-"

Harry groaned. "Oh, I don't want to be late, why didn't you wake me up sooner!?"

Ron gave him a very annoyed look and growled. "What do you think I was doing!? I though you'd woken up before, but you hadn't. You were havin' some weird dream..."

"Dream?" Harry thought hard... but no... "I didn't have any "weird dream"..."

"But you wouldn't wake up! You were all scared, an' looking as if you were bein' chased or something an'-"

"I was not!" Harry blushed in embarrassment. As he tried to adjust his tie, Harry found it too much of a bother and left it as it was (Hadn't the Wizarding world discovered how useful a clip-on was?).

"But it's true! I-I was getting really worried. I mean after yesterday, I though you were, like... I don't know, dying in your sleep."

He hadn't expected Ron to say something like that. Harry saw his friends distressed expression and smiled a little. "I'm not in any trouble, really... Maybe I did have a dream, but I don't remember it now."

Ron looked up a bit, seeing that Harry was dressed. "You going to be okay, then?"

"Yeah. It'll probably come back to me... once I've eaten." He grinned, starting for the door. "Last one to the Great Hall's a Snape loving Slytherin!"

After making that particular comment, there was no way Ron would allow Harry win. In the end, Ron's long legs served as an advantage as they both reached the Great Hall on record time. Luckily, they weren't the absolute last one's there. Though there seemed to be something going on at the teachers table. Dumbledore, looking much more... tense that usual. But only for a short moment, and they he was back to his usual, cheerful self. Snape was absent from the table, which wasn't too much of a surprise or disappointment, but so was Professor McGonagall and Hagrid...

Then Dumbledore stood, made a gesture as to excuse himself, and went into the back room just behind the teachers table.

"What's going on there," Harry whispered, nodding toward the retreating Headmaster.

"What's what?"

"Professor Dumbledore seems upset."

Ron looked toward the teachers table for a moment then shook his head. "Nope. Don't see anything. Maybe it's your imagination, Harry."

"Maybe."

They then took their sets at the Gryffindor table, where Hermione was already waiting.

~~~~~~~~~~~

He stopped pacing when the Headmaster finally appeared in the doorway. "You don't understand what you're asking, Albus," the man said darkly as soon as Dumbledore closed the door. "You don't understand..."

Dumbledore's eyes burned into Snape's from behind his half-moon spectacles, the pale blue flashing intensely. It was at moments like this that a person knew not to underestimate Albus Dumbledore's true power... "I am afraid I know exactly what I am asking, Severus. I hope you understand." Silence. Snape shifted uncomfortably on his feet. It took a lot to make the usually cold and collected Potions Master nervous, but this wasn't some simple matter of business. No, this was something completely different. "Please... Place petty hatred aside, Severus. Just this once is all I ask."

Snape looked up the man as if studying, then nodded. It looked like he was struggling not to scowl. "Yes... Never again, Albus. And if one of the others see me..."

"You will not be seen," Dumbledore said flatly. "I trust you will make sure of that, my boy. I now you to be quiet resourceful Wizard, Severus." Snape still looked uncertain, his own eyes flashing as if a million thought were going through his head. "Mr. Malfoy has not seen you, so he won't have anything to tell his father... If all goes well, you can be back before classes start."

"What you're asking for a miracle..."

Dumbledore clapped a hand onto Snape's shoulder, causing the taller man to blink. "What I am asking for, is that you will try... I know this is asking much of you, but you are the only one here fully capable. You should knew perfectly well how dire the situation is. Please, Severus."

Snape nodded. "Yes... I will trust... that man to take care of things here." He made a face of distaste. "I surely hope all of my aging potion has gone to good use."

"Indeed..."

"But Albus, those.... creatures in my..."

He had to smile faintly at this. "Don't worry, they won't cause too much damage. Snape gave a grunt as an answer, and soon Dumbledore wasn't smiling. "You know what to do. Please hurry."

With a final nod Snape had turned on his heels and left the room through somewhere in the back.

With this finished, he quickly exited the room from where he came in, taking his seat. Minerva McGonagall had returned, and was looking awfully tense from where she sat next to him. Her head snapped up as he arrived and almost back a motion to rise.

"Calm down, Minerva," he said quietly, motioning for her to stay as he took his seat in the center of the table. The other teachers were either eating, talking , or just starring off into space (Well, at least in Professor Dorrey's case.). "Everything is taken care of." Dumbledore idly took a sip of his pumpkin juice as McGonagall struggled to contain her anxiety. "Did you send the owls?"

She nodded at this, her lips tight in a thin line. "Two of the fastest. Two hawk owls..." Dumbledore nodded at this. Yes, hawk owls were particularly swift flyers. "I dare say I placed enchantments on them both. They poor creatures will be flying so fast they'll be exhausted for days to come..."

"How soon with the enchantments?"

"I-I not sure... Under an hour until the one reaches Mr. Lupin's. Without it would have taken maybe four hours..."

"Good."

"..... Are you going to tell him?"

Dumbledore followed her gaze over to Harry Potter, who was laughing along with his friend, Ronald Weasley. Dean Thomas had just said some sort of joke that Hermione Granger found very unassuming (Ah, to be young again.). "That depends on how all this turns out, Minerva. Otherwise, he needn't tell him."

"........."

"........."

McGonagall cleared her throat loud enough for just Dumbledore to hear. "Albus, I do hope you have an explanation for why Severus isn't here. I have seen Mr. Malfoy and a number of the Slytherins glancing this way.... Do you have one?"

He smiled at this and only answered after taking a long sip from his goblet. "Oh, yes indeed."

"And Hagrid is missing as well..."

"Mmmm..." Another sip of pumpkin juice. "Indeed."

"You do.... don't you, Albus...?"

Dumbledore winked, his eyes twinkling again as if nothing unusual was happening, like he knew everything was going to be fine. Then he stood, calling out over the low roar voices that already filled the room. "Attention! I have a very important announcement." Of course, his voice reverberated off the walls nicely, and almost at once every head turned toward him. It was all silent. Dumbledore smiled. "I am afraid that Potions and Care of Magical Creatures will be canceled today. In fact, the dungeons will be totally off limits at the moment."

There was a mixed response of cheers, groans, and shouted questions that upped immediately in volume. The Slytherins were particularly displeased at this news, since their dormitory lay in the very lower parts of the dungeons. How were they supposed to get there if not through the dungeon corridors?

"Please, students, please!" Once they had calmed down, he said, "In fact, as you may notice, Hagrid and Professor Snape are not present." McGonagall looked up at him sharply, but he just smiled at her and continued. "You see, earlier this morning, Professor Snape discovered something very.... "interesting" down in the dungeons. A sort of "infestation" if you will. Hagrid was kind enough to check this out with him, to affirm his suspicions. I will please ask that none of you attempt to help or go anywhere near that area until the whole situation is cleared."

He shot a rather stern look at Harry and his friends to emphasis his point on this matter. Harry glanced down quickly, looking like he'd been scolded directly.

"Quiet frankly, this came as a shock, and most of you are now wonder why we weren't informed sooner. Well, this incident was probably planed since last year, given the amount of time the creatures would need to grow..."

"What kind of infestation," came an uncertain yet annoyed sounding voice from somewhere ahead. Ah, of course, Blaise Zabini of Slytherin.

Dumbledore suppressed a chuckle.

"I trust most of you are familiar with what a Blast-Ended Skrewt is?"

At that moment, there was the sound of an explosion from deep within Hogwarts. The floor vibrated ever so slightly. Half the students below were sitting with their eyes bulging out of their skulls.

'Right on time...'

Dumbledore grinned.

"Any questions?"

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Mr. Weasley been up most of the night, and had gotten home only long enough to get two or three hours of sleep. His eyes ached to just close and rest, but he could, wouldn't allow that,

His attempts to get a hold of any major information on James Potter had been thwarted at almost every turn. It was well after midnight when he'd finally received a set of death reports for the Potter family. Of course, they only described the very obvious causes of death. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to it.

Mr. James Potter: Body was found, battered and bloody on the kitchen floor amongst wreckage in the lower portion of the house. An laceration to the side of the head, possible to a blow or fall before Avada Kedarava was cast.

Mrs. Lily Potter: Discovered in an upper area of the house, in the nursery. Avada Kedarava cast on her while standing before her son, Harry Potter's, crib. Time of death some time after the father was executed.

Horrible...

Both struck down by the Killing Curse. Such an act by You-Know-Who was common place around this time, so no one took it into account to really examine the bodies. Though, a few oddly placed curses had been placed on some outer potions of the house. This was very odd indeed. And these were curses that had nothing to do with the Potter's safety... and looked like they were to lock the Potter's in rather than keep an intruder out...

Very ironic.

Now Mr. Weasley wished nothing more than to just Apparate back to the office, where he could see if the situation had changed. To get a check on the Dementors, even. There was a good chance the man, possibly even posing as James Potter, had been apprehended. It had taken him the better part of an hour, but he'd finally convinced his wife to let him go. She had been very against him going, and still was.

Mrs. Molly Weasley now had her arms firmly crossed over her chest, her eyes glittering with suppressed anger, uncertainty and worry. "At least eat something, you look like an old zombie..." She fumbled around with some things on the counter before coming back holding up a piece of buttered toast eagerly. "It will give you at the least a bit of energy for the day..." Judging by the look he was getting, there was no way he'd leave the house without eating it...

Mr. Weasley sighed, taking the toast hesitantly. He didn't really feel like eating. "Yes..."

His wife seemed to read his mind. "Are you still worrying about that James Potter imposter?"

Mr. Weasley couldn't believe this. He would've though his wife would be happy that Harry's father was possibly alive. Happy for Harry. "But the evidence..." 'Or lack there of...' "How do you know he's not the real thing, Molly?"

"He's dead, Arthur!" She began putting away items she'd left on the counter.

"But maybe he wasn't really dead? Even the Ministry can make mistakes, and who knows what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was up to that night..."

Mrs. Weasley looked very skeptical. "And how is that? How could anyone manage that? A time charm maybe? Arthur, you know those charms are highly illegal for just that purpose!"

Mr. Weasley knew this was true, but didn't feel like butting heads with her, he didn't have the energy. Now the muscles in his upper back where aching.

He moved to check something in his briefcase when he spotted a letter on the table. Still nibbling his bread, he picked it up. "What's this?"

"It's a letter for you," she said, while trying to busy herself with a number of tasks. Now she was straightening the table cloth, though it didn't need it.

Mrs. Weasley didn't like talking about Harry's father. His dead father, so she believed. Mr. Weasley was very aware of how his wife wished to be a sort of surrogate mother for the boy. The last thing she wanted was to upset Harry with this possibly false rumor of his father coming back to life. She would hate to see him crushed after already having so much lose in his life... Mr. Weasley didn't know why he would do if something happened to one of his own children...

"I don't wish to read your mail, Arthur." There was a nervous edge to her voice, but hopefully it wasn't some sort of anxiety attack. They was no calming her when that happened. "It came a little while ago from a charmed owl. A charmed owl, would you believe it?! The poor thing was exhausted..."

Mr. Weasley took the letter, unrolling it. It was obviously from Hogwarts, he was all to familiar with receiving improper behavior reports from McGonagall about Fred, George, and on those rare occasions, Ron. Reading over it quickly he frowned. It was from Minerva McGonagall, on order of Albus Dumbledore. He wanted him to...

"Well, who is it from, Arthur?"

"The Headmistress..."

"Again!?" She scowled, clutching a towel in her hands as if it were some form of stress reliever. "I don't believe it! Fred and George 've gotten into trouble again haven't they!?" She spoke quickly, her eyes blazing with furry. "Those bloody wands of there's. They just WAIT until they get home for the holidays..."

He shook his head, reading it the script carefully. "She says Dumbledore needs a favor..."

Mrs. Weasley was going to probably ask "what sort of 'favor'" when there was a faint popping sound from the living room. "Oh dear, who could that be?" She left the room muttering this like "Bloody trick wands... burn them all..." while Arthur continued to nibble at his toast and stare at the letter.

Then, "Arthur, come quickly! It's Charlie!"

Mr. Weasley instantly dropped his toast and ran into living room, where his wife already stood by the roaring hearth. And sure enough, there was Charlie Weasley's head, floating within the flames. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would've otherwise been happy to see him, if it weren't for the grave frown on his face.

"Dad, there having some major problems down here."

He frowned as well. "Charlie? Where on earth are you? You weren't suppose to visit from Romania for another few day--What are you doing there?"

"I decided to come earlier, and it's a good thing I did know that you're gone. The Ministry's in an uproar."

"Has Mr. Potter been found?"

Charlie's head shook "no". "He's the absolute last of our worries right now. Dementors have been sighted all over the London Underground. No victims as of yet, but it may only be a matter of time now."

Mrs. Weasley let out a muffled gasp of horror, covering her mouth with her hands. "D-Dementors!? H-How, why-!?" She was quickly silenced by her husbands hand, which had risen to silence her. He wanted to hear everything Charlie had to say.

"We can't be certain, Mother. The Dementors are forbidden from entering the Underground. But the Ministry's putting together a square equipped enough to handle to matter."

He snorted. "It'll take something more than a bloody squad team to battle off Dementors."

Charlie took a deep breath, his head shaking. "I know, but we don't have a choice. And I'm not going to just still around when I can help, Dad. The people have to be protected, Magical and Muggle alike. A rainstorm's hit London, giving the bloody bastards a powerful advantage. We're frantic down here, we need everyone from ever office. No one's sure why they're acting like this..."

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," Mrs. Weasley whispered hoarsely. "This is what Harry warned us about, Arthur, this is exactly it..."

Mr. Weasley didn't answer her, the gears in his mind turning, trying to think of an answer... but there was none... "Charlie, I don't want you down there." Charlie looked startled. "Please, son, I don't want you, Bill, or Percy in any danger..." Images of James Potter flashed in his mind... Pictures of the bodies of Lily and James Potter, Ministry officials walking around to examine them.

Could he really loose a son to this...?

Charlie didn't look too agreeable. "I'm glade that you're worried about me, and honestly, I'd rather take my chances with a Horntail any day. But I don't think it'll be a problem. Whether they're moving through the Underground or not, they aren't going for the Ministry. They're looking something..."

"Or someone." Mr. Weasley glanced down at the letter form Hogwarts, now clinched tightly in his fist.

Well... If his own sons were brave enough to handle all this...

Mr. Weasley smiled. "Charlie? Do you have any connections for getting or making a Portkey?"

Charlie seemed startled by his sudden change in mood. "Um , yes. I have a friend who makes them for the Quidditch Tournaments and stuff. But we haven't talked in a while... Why?"

His smile widened. "I have a favor to ask of you..." He turned to his wife, who had her hands folded so tightly together that her knuckles had turned white. "Molly, can you Apparate a letter to the Diagon Alley Owl Office? It's very important, but I don't want you to linger any longer than you have to. There should be someone in the area I need to get a message to. Immediately."

~~~~~~~~~~~

Somewhere in a small country half-wizarding town just outside of London, Remus Lupin was made his way through the upstairs hallway of his home. He carried a large mug full of herbal tea. Of course, this type of herbal tea was more to get someone over a hangover than anything else. It also served as a delightful "pick-me-up" early in the morning. And his current guest didn't like getting up in the morning... Especially not after last night.

"Sirius," he called out. Oops! Almost spilled some tea... It was still very hot.

As he ventured closer to the guestroom, he paused twice; once to straighten a crooked picture frame and a second time to whip a small smudge off the hall mirror.

'He should be up by now, shouldn't he...?'

"Sirius?" Lupin walked up to the guestroom door, tapping at it. "Sirius," he repeated again, louder this time. He reached for the door handle, but before he could even touch it, the door flung open...

Revealing the face of a very cross looking fugitive...

"Can you scream any louder," he asked lowly, brushing his bed ridden hair out of his face (He hadn't the mind to bother trimming it anymore.). "I don't think the witch doctor in town heard you!"

Lupin smiled and thrust the mug at him. "No one can hear, or see for that matter." It was true. If it hadn't been for Lupin's regular visits into town, any passing Wizard, Witch a Muggle would consider the old house long abandoned. People found it odd, though, and strangely unnerving the way no sound escaped the walls. And how every window and curtain had been drawn for the past few months. The Muggles in town thought this especially peculiar. But like most Muggles, they kept their noses out of other people's business for the fear of getting mixed up in something they'd rather not be. "I don't know what you're worried about. Sound charms, remember? People would've heard... Last night."

Sirius didn't comment on that last part, taking Lupin's mug. "You're far too optimistic, Remus," Sirius gruffed. He took a small sip or the liquid, made a face, but began gulping it down.

Lupin just gave him another cheerful smile. "And you're too much of a pessimist, Padfoot."

The taller man chuckled at this, smiling. "You're right. I do need to fix that, if I can." Sirius was already half dressed, minus his cloak and outer robes. He was still rather sleepy looking, even after the tea. Lupin could see it in his eyes. Sirius flopped down onto the spare bed he'd been occupying for that last few months. "After all, I'm using a bed for the first time in a while."

'In fourteen years...' "Yes...." Lupin frowned, noticing his friends exhaustion. Last night had been a full moon, and Lupin had thus become a werewolf. Yes, his screams and howls couldn't be heard from the outside, but they could from within. Fortunately, Lupin had ready some Wolfsbane Potion. It had been a long, tiring night for the both of them. But since Sirius came to hide at his house, Lupin was able to keep human company for the first time in that state (Sirius stayed a human rather than changing into a dog.).

Actually, just having Sirius there made everything so much more... pleasant. Lupin's life hadn't been this full of happiness since his time at Hogwarts. He had someone to talk to if he needed it. Someone whom he didn't have to worry about finding his secret. Just like old times...

"I... didn't mean to keep you up," he apologized quietly, his stomach falling a bit. He hated the thought of making his best friend unhappy, after all he'd gone through...

Sirius snorted at the comment. "I can't believe you're worried about something like that. After all these years! It's not like we're sneaking out of the Gryffindor dormitory, Remus. I don't have to go anywhere. I don't have to break any rules." Sirius chuckled, his voice muffled as he brought his mug up to his lips. "Don't have to worry about the Headmistress catching a few loose Animagus wandering outside their dormitory..."

Lupin starred at him, something pleasant flickering behind his eyes, then smirked. "Well, you may have to "sneak out" somewhere."

Sirius cast him a look, taking the mug away from his mouth and raising an eyebrow. "What?"

"Wolfsbane Potion... It needs to be taken directly, remember? I need to stock up on certain things." It was always good to plain a head, though some of the ingredients were difficult to store properly. And he messed up on the potion so many bloody times that it usually takes him a few trys to get it right.

Sirius frowned. "That could be a problem..." He hated having to leave the house, but Lupin was very insistent that he /should/ go out sometime. He wouldn't need to leave until the time came... When Dumbledore called for him, Lupin, and the rest of the gang.

"Get dressed." He threw Sirius his robes, newly cleaned.

Sirius was accustomed to his own tattered black robes, and refused to replace them no matter how many times Lupin tried to convince him otherwise. Instead (since Sirius didn't want Lupin to spend any money on him), Lupin now washed them constantly, and had preformed many repairing charms on the fabric. "You smell," would be his blunt, and only half joking comment. Sirius wouldn't care, but eventually gave into his constant badgering.

"I'll be waiting downstairs."

"Yes, mother," Sirius muttered, examining his spotless robes with interest. He still couldn't get used to clothes that weren't at least a little dirty or torn (though they were still a bit tattered). "You would make a wonderful house wife, dear."

Lupin grinned, his eyes narrowing playfully. "And what would you be? A wonderful house dog, perhaps?" Lupin shut the door as a boot came flying at him (And a good thing too, considering it hit the door with a deafening THWACK!!!). He waited a moment, listening to Sirius' wild cursing before going down into the kitchen, intent on getting some tea for himself.

When he reached the kitchen, however, he was meet with the sound of tapping at a window.

Cautiously, walked to the window and peered through a crack in the curtains to find a large owl... a hawk owl, in fact. Lupin didn't recognize it, and it certainly wasn't from the Owl Post Office.

"What is it, Remus," came a very grave voice from behind. Lupin turned to see Sirius peering out from the corner of the doorway, eyeing the window as if something horrible awaited him on the other side. His wand was clenched in his fist.

"Relax, it's just an owl."

This response didn't make Sirius happy, though, his eyes narrowing with an air of suspicion. "It's not that damn banshee from down the street again, is it?"

"Miss Sidney is not a banshee, Sirius. Be kind." He couldn't seem to hide his mirth.

Sirius growled. "That damn woman is senile... She still want fresh dog ears for that blasted potion of hers." That was funny, considering that all the other pet dogs on the street had mysteriously disappeared in the last month already... Or so he'd heard.

Needless to say, Sirius had more than one reason for not wanting to wander around the neighborhood as an Animagus.

"Well, see who it is. It might be Arabell."

"Or Harry," Lupin suggested.

Sirius smiled at this thought.

Lupin opened the window, allowing the hawk owl to hop onto his arm. There seemed to be something terribly wrong with the bird, he realized that as soon as it passed through the window. It was shaking violently and breathing as though hyperventilating. It claws dug into the cloth of his brown shirt, drawing a the tiniest bit of blood, it's eyes shifting around wildly. Wait...

"This owl's been enchanted!" He pulled out his wand at once, pointing it toward the suffering creature. "Finite Incantatem!"

"Enchanted?" His eyes widened as the owl slumped forward in exhaustion. "Good lo- What's happened to it?"

Lupin set the creature on the kitchen table, where it let out a weak "hoot" of thanks, laying in a position that suggested it'd run into a glass wall. It breathing was returning to normal, but it no longer had the energy to stand. "Some sort of... energy spell...? I'm not quiet sure. Someone wanted this message to get here quickly..." His untied the letter from the birds claw as gently as possible. His eyes widened. "It's from Hogwarts."

Sirius appeared confused for a moment, wondering what was so wrong with getting a letter from Hogwarts of all places. "Hogwarts? You mean Harry, or Dumbledore?"

Lupin began scanning over the message. "From Professor Minerva McGo--..." Suddenly he stopped.

The letter slipped from his fingers and fluttered to the floor.

'Oh... He's alive...'

'He was alive.....!!!'

~~~~~~~~~~~

Lupin's breath came out in shuttering gasps, like he was having difficulty getting air in, and for a moment he looked like he was going to fall over or faint.

This reaction panicked Sirius, and he rushed forward to steady his friend. "Remus? Remus! What's wrong with you!?"

"H-He's alive..." Lupin had grabbed hold of Sirius' shirt sleeve, gripping it tightly. "They've seen him!"

Sirius eyed the letter as if it were alive and dangerous, unable to figure out what Lupin as talking about. Who's alive? Who's seen who?

While holding into his friend, Sirius steered Lupin over to a chair. The man collapsed into it, bringing a trembling hand to his forehead. "What did it say, Remus," he asked firmly. Lupin was shaking his head slowly from side to side, and might even be crying. "Remus. Remus, speak to me, come on! Who's alive-"

"James... Oh God, something's happened. He's alive, Sirius!"

Sirius paled. Of all the things Lupin could've said at that moment.... Voldemort has taken over the Ministry. Snape's turned against Dumbledore. The sky was falling.

But not that.

His throat was painfully tight when he tried to speak. "W-What...?" He snatched up the letter and read it halfway through before stopping. After a long silence, he spoke. "Th... That's impossible. It can't..." His brows furrowing in confusion. "It must be some trick of magic..."

"True..." Lupin seemed to have collected himself. His shoulders where still visibly trembling, but he took on a straighter posture. The man hadn't been crying, no, but his eyes had gained a haunted look. The same look that Sirius saw in the mirror everyday. The look of a man who has many sleeping ghosts in his past.

And Lupin's had just been awoken with a vengeance.

Sirius didn't argue when Lupin plucked the letter from his hands and reread it. "Mr. Ollivander's... James went to him?"

"If it's him," Sirius muttered bitterly, his tone full of uncertainty. His was trapped somewhere between suspicion and utter joy. But he'd known too much disappointment to put all of his hopes into this. And the though of it being true in the first place... He should be sent straight to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. "Who else had seen him? Was Ollivander sure?"

"He was sure." Lupin carefully read toward to end of the letter. "Dumbledore has contacted Arthur Weasley of the Ministry... They've gotten involved. He's sent Severus to look for... James..."

"WHAT!?" He snatched the letter back, almost ripping it in the process. He read over the part Lupin had spoken aloud. "No... He's-He's mad! Snape will more likely kill him than help him!" He crumpled up the paper in his fists, seething. He couldn't describe the feelings he was experiencing. Something between rage and desperation, and for some reason thinking that it was all for nothing.... "If that bastard finds him..."

"It may be for the best."

Lupin took the letter and whispered "Incendio", and they both watched the paper as it combusted into flame.

"It's better that no one else knows," Lupin muttered, watching the black ashes flutter to the wooden floorboards. Then he lifted his gaze to Sirius' wild, black eyes. Sirius didn't like that look...

"Think about it, Sirius. If Mr. Ollivander recognized this man, and a few Muggles were able to catch sight of him, what do you think the chances are of a Death Eater seeing him?"

Sirius stiffened. This new realization hit him with the feeling of ice that would rival even a Dementor's presence.

"Don't you understand, Sirius?" Remus took a long shuttering breath. "It's not a matter of who is trying to get to him, now... it's a matter of who will get there first..."