The Day of Discovery

THE DAY OF DISCOVERY

"Alright, Potter?"

"Alright," Harry answered in the same half-hearted tone he'd been using ever since he'd arrived at number twelve, Grimmauld Place. As promised, Molly and Arthur Weasley had come to rescue him from the Durseleys' about a month after his departure from Hogwarts. He'd hoped to find some comfort under the wing of the Order of the Phoenix, in the company of so many loyal friends and allies, but somehow his empty feeling seemed to have augmented over the past week. He wondered if it had anything to do with being cooped up in the place Sirius Black had called home for so long.

Remus Lupin gazed down into Harry's eyes, a strand of graying blondish hair falling into his face. Harry, oddly enough, was relieved to see that Sirius' absence had left someone else also looking worse for wear. Remus' scruffy locks had grown considerably since Harry had last seen him at Kings Cross, and his clothes were as tattered as ever. Something, it seemed, had disappeared from his eyes. Harry wouldn't have been surprised to learn that it was the same something that had recently left a gaping chasm in his own soul.

Remus sighed heavily, then tumbled onto the bed that Ron usually occupied. "Molly's stew isn't sitting well with me," he muttered, probably, Harry thought, as an excuse for how pale he was looking.

"This used to be his bedroom when we were kids, you know," Remus said, half whispering. Harry knew that Sirius was the "he" to which Remus was referring.

For a moment, Harry thought he heard a snicker issuing form the blank painting that should have housed Phineas Nigellus' portrait. He made nothing of it; Nigellus was prone to laughter at the most inopportune moments. Besides, Harry was too caught up in wondering why Remus was suddenly so anxious to speak of Sirius. What surprised Harry most, however, was that he himself had no objections.

"Did you and my dad used to come stay here often?" he asked.

Remus laughed and shook his head. "Do you think she"--he pointed to the door to indicate the portrait of the dreadful Mrs. Black in the hallway--"would've ever allowed such a thing? No, no. We were always either at my house or at James'. Don't forget, though, that Sirius actually lived with your father for a year or so. Yeah, it was usually Prongs who took the three of us in during the summer, anyway."

Three...yes, Harry had forgotten Peter Pettigrew, or Wormtail, or Voldemort's Cowardly and Sniveling Second, as he was known these days. Harry was suddenly relieved to hear that his father's crew had never spent nights at number twelve, Grimmauld Place; he would not have liked the idea of sleeping in the same room Wormtail had once slept in. But the same room as Sirius, or his father, or Remus, on the other hand...Harry would've been comforted to feel the ghosts of their youths lurking around him.

Suddenly, the heavy wooden door sprang open and thundered as it bounced off the bedroom wall, sending Mrs. Black's portrait into shrieks of "THAT NO GOOD TRAITOROUS SON OF MINE, DEAD! ABOUT TIME, I SAY, THAT UNGRATEFUL, WORTHLESS EXCUSE FOR A WIZARD--"

It was times like these that Harry wished he still had the knife Sirius had given him, so that he might slash that horrid woman's portrait to shreds. It had been bad enough the previous summer, when any loud noise might have prompted her to proclaim the Weasleys to be Blood Traitors, or Hermione to be a filthy Mudblood, or Remus to be a horrible half-breed. But to hear her talk about Sirius that way...It was almost enough to make Harry murderous.

When Mrs. Black had stopped screaming, Harry realized that Ron was floating high above the ground, kicking furiously at the wands of his twin brothers. Harry seemed to recall Fred and George's simultaneous chanting of "Wingardium leviosa!" amid the screams, but he couldn't be sure.

"Boys, put your brother down," Remus ordered, struggling to stifle a laugh. "Haven't you three had enough Spell Tag for one day?"

"Oh, alright," George grumbled, and a second later Ron lay sprawled upon the hardwood floor while his brothers cackled over him. He scrambled to his feet and shot Remus a look of mock anger.

"Oy, Lupin!" he cried. "Go find your own bed, mate, and get out of mine!"

Remus chuckled as Ron gave him a swift shove off the bed. He slid off the mattress and onto the floor, returning Ron's dirty look. 'Well, I'll take that as a hint. It's getting late. I'd better be off to my own room, anyway."

But as he headed for the door, he realized with a sudden gasp that he could not pass.

"What's wrong, Lu--" Harry started to ask, but he saw immediately what had stopped Remus.

Harry's brain allowed only one familiar feature to register at a time--first the black clothes that were in no better condition than Remus', then the hollowed but handsome face, and finally the long mane of ebony hair.

Suddenly, Harry didn't give a damn anymore about Remus' stories or Spell Tag or anything else at all. Before Harry had even decided to speak, a name was spilling from his lips--

"Sirius!"

Without thinking, Harry leapt across the room and flung his arms around Sirius. His godfather returned the embrace, laughing weakly. Harry did not have time to feel the sting of tears before they began rolling down his cheeks. Sirius, Sirius, Sirius! It was all he could think, all he had hoped for since that night in the Department of Mysteries.

But what about...Didn't...Wasn't...?

Harry didn't have the slightest inclination as to what had happened, but it didn't matter. What did matter was that Sirius was back again and back, Harry hoped and prayed, to stay.

"Harry!" Sirius gasped as he pulled away and studied his godson adoringly. His hands clasped Harry's shoulders. "You're alright? And You-Know-Who...he's gone?"

"Hardly," Remus answered in a faltering voice. He rounded on Sirius. "How in hell do you expect any of us to believe that you're Sirius Black? Sirius Black is dead!"

Sirius' mouth parted slightly, and his eyes grew wide with disbelief. "Then I should like to hear who you think I am, Remus! I haven't come through the Veil of Mysteries simply to have you call me a liar!"

The Veil of Mysteries. Those words brought horrible memories into Harry's mind--the stone dais, the archway, Bellatrix Lestrange sending Sirius through the Veil. But no, no, all that was over, wasn't it? And here was Sirius...alive!

Sirius took several slow steps toward Remus. For a moment, Harry thought one might strike out against the other, though he could not guess who against who. He looked on, confusion stamped all over his face. Ron, Fred, and George were huddled near Ron's bed, donning similar expressions.

"Answer a question, then," said Remus, his bottom lip tensed to keep from quivering, "something that only Sirius would know. Prove to me that you're him, that you're Sirius."

Sirius held his hands out at his sides, palms up. "Ask me anything, Remus," he said. "Ask me anything at all."

Remus said nothing for a long moment. Then, "Tell me...what was the last thing I said to you on the very first Day of Discovery?"

Harry had no idea whatsoever as to what the Day of Discovery was, and he half-wondered if Remus wasn't just making up some ridiculous question to trick an impostor-Sirius. But his godfather opened his mouth to answer.

" 'Not a word to James,' " Sirius answered, "and then I said to you, 'Not even a breath with your name on it.' "

The room fell into silence. Sirius and Remus remained still, their eyes fixed on one another. Harry wondered no longer who would be the first to strike out, but rather who would be the first to shed tears, for Harry saw them welling up in the eyes of both men.

Slowly, Remus moved forward, his arms outstretched. But in an instant Sirius, who was never one to take anything slowly, closed the gap between them and threw himself, unabashed, into Remus' arms.

"Sirius," Harry heard Remus whisper through tears, for he had beat Sirius to them. "Sirius, I'm no good at this. When James and Lily died, I couldn't do it--"

"Couldn't do what?" asked Sirius. Harry couldn't see his face, but he was quite certain that his godfather had begun to cry as well. "Say goodbye? Remus, it's me, I'm here, I'm alive! You don't have to say goodbye!"

Remus pulled away from Sirius reluctantly, his glittering eyes fixing on him once again, disbelieving. Harry couldn't blame him. This was indeed incredible, for Harry had seen Sirius disappear through the Veil, had heard Remus himself pronounce Sirius dead.

"What happened to you?" Remus asked softly, shaking his head.

Sirius lowered his eyes to the floor and breathed deeply. "I cannot say, Remus. I am bound to the Secret of the Veil. I cannot betray that bond."

Ron, still awestricken, stepped forward. "Do Mum and Dad know you're here? Or Moody? Or Kingsley? Or Tonks? They're here, too."

Sirius looked up and shook his head. "All asleep. I didn't want to wake them. And don't any of you go waking them, either! I will see them all tomorrow morning."

"You're sure?" asked one of the twins; Harry didn't look to see whether it was Fred or George who spoke. "They'll want to know what--"

"I said no!" Sirius hissed. "I don't want...I...can't...." Harry looked on with horror as Sirius' eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed to the floor at Remus' feet, shaking violently. Sirius' hand reached quickly for his shoulder, as if a searing pain had shot through it. He moaned loudly.

"Sirius! Sirius!" Remus cried as he fell to the floor next to him. He lifted Sirius' body into his arms and rocked with him. "What's happening? What's wrong?"

Suddenly, Sirius' shaking had ceased. He was breathing deep and rapidly, his chest heaving against Remus. His eyes fluttered open, and he gazed up at Remus' face.

"Take me to my room," he whispered. "I need to rest."

Remus nodded. "Of course, Sirius. Of course." Holding onto Sirius' arm, he rose carefully from the hard floor and made for the door. "C'mon, Harry. Help me."

Harry shook himself out of his catatonic state and looked to Fred, George, and Ron.

"Go on, then," Ron said. "We'll wait here for you. Go help them."

Harry nodded and rushed to Sirius' side. He wrapped his godfather's free arm around his own neck for support. "Thank you," he heard Sirius whisper.

Together, Harry, Sirius, and Remus crept up the stairs to the third floor. It was difficult to maneuver three people up the narrow staircase, but somehow they managed. When Remus and Harry released Sirius, he tumbled onto his mattress like a bag full of bricks, still panting for breath.

"You'll be alright, won't you, Sirius?" asked Harry. He hoped his godfather would have an answer he'd want to hear.

"I'll be fine. Thank you, Harry. Thank you so much." He smiled sweetly as he reached to pat Harry's cheek. "Off to bed with you, son."

Harry nodded and headed reluctantly toward the door. Remus made to follow Harry, but Sirius stopped him. "Moony, please don't leave me," he whimpered. Remus came to a halt and turned to stare quizzically at Sirius. "Please, stay here with me, Remus."

Remus smiled at hearing his old nickname. His eyes shot nervously to Harry, as if asking Harry's permission to stay. Harry nodded. "I'll see you both in the morning. Sleep well, Sirius."

As Harry headed back to his second-floor bedroom, he wasn't wondering how Sirius had escaped death, nor did he question why Sirius had asked Remus to remain and not him.

No, there was only one question floating through Harry's mind--What was the Day of Discovery, and what had happened that day that Sirius and Remus hadn't wanted James Potter to know about?

***

The only light in Sirius' bedroom was the moonlight that managed to filter through the newly installed window blinds.

"Half moon," Remus whispered. For that he was thankful; half a month still remained until his next transformation from man into beast.

Next to him, Sirius shifted in his sleep. Remus was glad to see that Sirius' slumber was to be a peaceful one. Still, he was unable to tear his eyes away from the perfectly arched mound of scar tissue on Sirius' right shoulder. This was a new scar, Remus knew, for he had always known every inch of Sirius' body as if it were his own. Is that what Sirius had been clutching during his attack on the floor of Ron and Harry's bedroom? Was this scar prone to terrible aching, just as Harry's was? And most importantly, where had this scar come from?

No doubt it was all wrapped up with the Secret of the Veil, whatever that was. But it mattered little, in any case, for here Sirius lay, quite alive, and Remus was feeling even more strongly the thing he'd feared had left him forever the night Sirius had been taken through the Veil.

He moved closer to Sirius on the bed, wrapped one arm around Sirius' waist, and pressed his lips gently to the scar. He drifted off to sleep, remembering....

***

It was early October during their sixth year at Hogwarts. Remus was lounging toward the bottom of the Quidditch stands, his Defense Against the Dark Arts book open to the chapter on vampires. Sirius sat in the row above him clapping and shouting as James Potter made a near-impossible Quaffle pass to Harold Dingus, another Gryffindor sixth year. Peter Pettigrew was leaning over the railing, jumping up and down with excited cries of "Way to go, Prongs!" He had been the one to drag Sirius and Remus to watch the Gryffindors' first Quidditch practice of the season.

Remus smiled up at James, who gave him a thumbs-up from his broomstick thirty feet above the ground. James Potter was the Gryffindor Seeker, but no one could deny his talent for handling a Quaffle just as well as a Snitch and, as the captain of the Gryffindor team, he took the opportunity to play Chaser whenever the mood struck him.

James took off again, shouting orders to the other players. Remus was about to return to his reading of "How to Utilize a Wooden Stake" when he felt Sirius shake his knee.

"Lookie, lookie, Moony!" Sirius laughed. "It's Snivellus! Come to spy for the dirty Slytherin team, eh?"

"No," replied Severus Snape, raking a hand through his oily black hair as he emerged from beneath the stands. " I was just--"

"Just what?" asked Sirius. "Being a bloody awful sneak? That is what you were doing, isn't it?"

Snape started to shake his head, but before he could do anything, Sirius had produced his wand and chanted, "Scourgify!" A moment later, Snape's mouth was foaming with soap bubbles. A few Quidditch players had stopped to watch. This curse was a favorite of Sirius and James, and although they usually reserved it for times when Snape was angry enough to launch into cursing fits, they were often known to use it for no good reason at all except, perhaps, to clean the greasy Snape up a bit.

"Leave him alone, Sirius!" Remus shouted. As Head Boy, he'd hoped to have earned the respect of at least his best friends, but Sirius only laughed at him and turned his attention back to Snape.

"How'd you like to go for a little ride, Snivellus?" he taunted, glancing at James out of the corner of his eye.

"Don't you dare, Sirius!" thundered Remus. "I promise you, I will take points from Gryffindor if you touch him!"

But Sirius paid no attention. He nodded to James, who was sinking closer to the ground on his broom. Then, James cried out, "Accio Severus!" Snape went soaring from the bleachers onto the back of James' broom. James landed on the ground a second later and began directing the broom with his wand. Every Quidditch player cackled as the broom took Snape into a series of somersaults. Snape held on for dear life, screaming wildly as James lifted his wand high above his head, shooting the broom at least one hundred feet into the air. Snape's cries for help could still be heard even from that height.

"Let him down, Prongs!" Remus barked, and James nodded to him.

"Alright, then!"

James lowered his wand swiftly, and suddenly Snape was plummeting toward the ground head first, shrieking loudly. The broom came to a halt five feet above the ground, but Snape did not.

When he scrambled to his feet, Snape had a murderous look about him. More troubling to Remus, however, was the stream of blood pouring from Snape's nose. Sirius was on the ground at Remus' feet, laughing hysterically. Everyone was waiting for Snape to say or do something, but he did not. Instead, he turned toward the castle and stormed away.

Remus rounded on Sirius. "Thirty points from Gryffindor!"

"What?!" Sirius bellowed. His eyes scanned the pitch for James, but James had already reclaimed his broom and returned to practice. "Moony, you can't be serious!"

Remus leered. "Maybe next time I tell you not to do something, you'll listen to me!" And with that, he trudged off across the Quidditch pitch, into the school, and up several flights of stairs.

"Boggart," he muttered to the Fat Lady's portrait, and the door to Griffyndor Tower swung open.

The common room was empty, just as he had expected it would be. He rushed up the stairs to the seventh year dormitory, slamming the door shut behind him. Only then did he stop to breathe. Sirius would be furious with him when he returned. But Remus was Head Boy, after all! What choice did he have but to punish Sirius for what he had done?

Remus walked toward the dresser, where his reflection revealed a flushed and sweaty face. He raked one hand through his hair, feeling beyond dissatisfied with his appearance. He would never be as good-looking as, say, Sirius. But he did have one thing over his friend, and that was power. Is that why he had punished Sirius tonight, he wondered?

"What's wrong with you, mate?!"

Sirius' face appeared in the mirror behind Remus. He turned on his heels to face the flesh and blood version.

"I'm a prefect," he replied shakily. "It's my job to keep you in line."

Sirius hurled his bag onto the nearest bed, which happened to be Peter's. "So you punish Prongs and me? You're supposed to be our friend!"

Remus was incensed. "I am your friend!" he thundered. "Your problem is that you're so damned charming and clever and handsome that you've come under the impression that rules don't apply to you!"

He expected Sirius to go into fits of rage, but Sirius did no such thing. At first, he seemed to be taken aback by Remus' harsh tone, but then he grinned mischievously and began to inch closer...closer...to Remus.

"When are you going to relax and have some fun, Moony?" he asked in a voice barely above a whisper. "Don't you think you deserve it?"

"I...I don't...I...." But he had no chance to finish his sentence before he felt the press of Sirius' mouth against his. For an instant, he was startled, and then a warm, tingling sensation like a mild electrical current passed through his body. He felt Sirius' palm against the small of his back as he pulled his lips away slowly.

"What was that for?" asked Remus, his eyes still closed.

"I...I don't know," Sirius whispered. He laughed abruptly. "Maybe because you said I was handsome."

"And charming and clever."

"Don't tell me you didn't like it."

Remus thought for a minute of saying no, that he hadn't enjoyed it one bit, but instead he pulled Sirius into an even deeper kiss. As Sirius' tongue invaded his mouth, he felt like he might die. But no, no, he was still very much alive. He ran his hands through Sirius' long black hair, loving the way it felt between his fingers. Forget about silk or satin or velvet; there was nothing softer than Sirius' hair.

It was Sirius who ended the kiss, for which Remus was quite thankful. He could never have forced himself to pull away first. Their faces were still dangerously close. If he so much as breathed too heavily, thought Remus, his mouth would have been pressed to Sirius' again, which suddenly made deep breathing seemed like the world's most brilliant idea.

"What does this mean?" he whispered, his lips brushing against Sirius'.

Sirius kissed him quickly then pulled far enough away that he and Remus could properly look at one another. "Not sure," he answered. "But do we really have to know?"

Remus shook his head. He wanted so badly for Sirius to kiss him again, although he was certain that this evening would not be the last time it happened. But his wish was not about to come true, he realized; James and Dingus were on the stairs, loudly discussing Quidditch practice. He could hear Peter laughing idiotically behind them. Sirius heard his roommates as well and stepped away from Remus just as the door swung open.

"Oy, Moony!" James bellowed, his brow furrowed as he glared at Remus. "Who the hell d'ya think you are, taking thirty points from Gryffindor like that?"

"Back off him, Prongs," said Sirius weakly. "He's a prefect. He was only doing his job."

"So? Prefect or not, he's still supposed to be on our side, not Snivellus'."

Why did that argument sound familiar?

The five boys bustled about their rooms for a few minutes. James was reluctant for a while to speak to Remus at all, but his anger slowly wore off, and the two of them were soon back to being the best of friends. It wasn't likely that James was going to stay in a bad mood for long today, anyway; Lily Evans had actually flirted with him today.

While James and Dingus played a game of keep-away from Peter with a Snitch, Sirius and Remus shared a long, knowing glance from their beds. Sirius turned away suddenly and grabbed a piece of parchment out of his bag, scribbled something on it quickly, then neatly folded it. He rose from his bed, taking with him as many books as he could carry, and made for the door. When he had crossed the room, he slipped the note into Remus' lap and announced, "I'm going to the common room to study if anyone needs me," before heading out of the dormitory.

Once he was certain none of the other three boys were paying attention, Remus unfolded the piece of paper and read the message written in Sirius' familiar scrawl--MEET ME IN THE ROOM OF REQUIREMENT AT MIDNIGHT. I'LL HAVE PRONGS' INVISIBILITY CLOAK. BRING THE MARAUDER'S MAP.

***

At eleven fifty-five, Remus Lupin was standing with his back to the enormous tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy, the Marauder's Map in his hands. A tiny red dot showed that the only person even on this floor was Professor Flitwick, who was sound asleep in his private suite.

The familiar entrance was there already--an oak door, large brass handle, same as it had been a hundred times before. But Sirius had arrived already, and whatever was inside the room was designed after his own desires.

Before his stomach could do another flip, Remus reached for the brass handle and slowly opened the door. The room was lit with what seemed to be a thousand candles. On the far wall was a waterfall, which dropped into a pond that occupied nearly half the floor. He could see tiny goldfish swimming about.

The other half of the room was comprised of a semi-circular stairway that led up to the most opulent bed Remus had ever laid eyes upon. The sheets and comforter appeared to be made of white satin, and a gathering of sheer white curtains surrounded the monstrous bed. Through the curtains, Remus could see that Sirius was already kneeling on the mattress, waiting for him. He took the stairs two at a time, then tore through the curtains until he was able to see Sirius properly.

"I like what you've done with the place," said Remus.

Sirius smiled at him. "I thought you would," he said. "Come here."

Remus obliged, crawling on all fours until his face was inches from Sirius'. Grabbing him by the shirtfront, Sirius pulled Remus into a deep kiss. These kisses seemed to be getting more and more passionate, Remus thought. He forced himself to ignore the cliché fireworks, but behind them lay a storm cloud, thundering deafeningly the moment Sirius' tongue glided past his lips. They collapsed together onto the bed, and when Siriu pulled away, he was breathing as though no amount of air would ever be enough to fill his lungs.

"I love you," Remus whispered without meaning to say it. He went pink, but Sirius' fingers came soon enough to caress his face, as if to reassure him. Sirius rolled on top of him and lowered his lips to Remus' ear.

"I know," he whispered. "I love you, too, Remus."

He could have died; Sirius only called him by name when he had something of great consequence to say. Remus didn't need a mirror to know that he was grinning from ear to ear.

Sirius' fingers reached for the collar of Remus' nightshirt, unfastening the first button, second button, third button. His arms wound around Remus, sealing their bodies together perfectly. Remus could feel an erection forming in Sirius' pajama pants, and he knew too well that he had one of his own to match. He gasped suddenly, and Sirius' progress came to a halt. He bent to kiss Remus.

"I'm a little scared," said Remus, turning to study the waterfall through the gauze curtains.

Sirius shook his head as if he did not understand. His hand clasped Remus' chin and turned his face up toward him. "What's the matter? Don't you want to do this?"

For a long moment, Remus simply gazed at him, contemplating. Surely there were rules against this sort of thing at Hogwarts, weren't there? He had no idea.

But hell, what did rules matter? It wasn't as if rules had ever applied to Sirius anyway, had they?

"More than anything in the world," he answered.

***

He blinked once, twice, three times, and then realized he was very much awake. The room was dark, and he couldn't have been more thankful if he'd wanted to.

He smelled like Sirius. He'd had plenty of time to get to know his scent, and it wasn't anything he was in any hurry to wash off. Maybe that was the wolf in him. If he could bottle that scent and keep it with him forever, he thought, it'd be almost as good as having Sirius with him forever. Almost.

He realized almost instantly that Sirius was awake as well. As he gazed into Sirius' half-lidded eyes, he seemed to catch flashes of the night's events, visions as beautiful as some mythological tale.

"Missed you, Moony," Sirius whispered, raking one hand through his tousled black hair. Even with bedhead, he still managed to look handsome. "You've been asleep for way too long."

"What time is it?"

"Seven," Sirius answered. "Breakfast starts soon. We ought to get out of here before people start crowding the corridors."

Remus sighed and snuggled closer to him, pressing his lips to the crease just above Sirius' stomach muscles. "I don't want to leave this bed."

Sirius nodded. "I know," he whispered. "I'd stay here forever if I could."

Suddenly, a horrible thought occurred to Remus. He sat upright in the bed and turned his eyes on Sirius, horror-stricken. "You do realize that we have nothing to wear, right? We can't very well go off to breakfast in our pajamas!"

Sirius merely laughed and motioned toward a desk on the side of the room opposite the waterfall. On top of it lay two sets of black robes. "You think I didn't take that into account? Come on, Moony. Who's been the brains behind the some greatest schemes of all time? This is the Room of Requirement, after all. If we require robes, we get robes!"

Remus was laughing as well. "Yes, of course! Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because your daft," Sirius joked. "C'mon, let's get dressed."

Remus had no desire to move an inch, but before he could protest, he realized that Sirius' weight had left the bed. He'd made his was down the staircase already and was scanning the room for signs of his underwear, which he found strewn across the stairs next to Remus'. It occurred to Remus then that Sirius was at his most beautiful when naked. His body was, at the risk of sounding cliché, a work of art--perfect musculature, smooth skin, slim in all the right places, well-endowed where it counted. And, of course, he had the loveliest face anyone had ever seen. Sirius was just like some bloody perfect angel.

"Get your eyes off me, you pervert!" Sirius joked once he realized Remus was ogling him. He pulled one of the robes over his head, then threw the other to where Remus lay on the bed.

"Sorry!" Am I giggling, Remus wondered? "You just look to good to be true."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Get dressed, will ya?"

Remus did as he was told, even though he'd rather Sirius and himself stay naked for as long as possible. But he knew there wasn't much time. He slipped into the robe, then rose from the bed, grabbed his underwear from the staircase, and pulled them on underneath his robes.

"Alright?" Sirius asked as he moved toward Remus.

"'Course," he replied. He knew that Sirius could tell he was only halfway telling the truth.

"Listen," Sirius sighed, slipping his arms around Remus' back. "You know as well as I do that it's going to be hard to pull this thing together. But I want you to know that, no matter what happens, I love you. I love you, Mr. Moony."

Remus nodded and smiled. "And I love you, Mr. Padfoot."

Sirius placed a quick kiss on Remus' cheek. "I don't know how this is going to work out, exactly, but I know that I'm going to try my best to hold onto you. We can come here some nights. And, of course, there'll always be those evenings when Prongs and Dingus and Wormtail are off at Quidditch practice."

Remus couldn't help but laugh at the thought--Quidditch quickies. But the expression on Sirius' face was deadly serious.

"You know," Sirius began, "what happened last night meant a lot to me, a lot more than you'll ever know, I think."

Remus shook his head. "No, I do know. It meant just as much to me, Sirius. It was like...a Day of Discovery, you know?"

Sirius smiled as if musing. "The Day of Discovery.... It shall be our holiday! And every year on the fifth of October, we shall celebrate with parades and parties and..."

"Please don't mock me, Sirius." It was Remus' turn to be deadly serious, but Sirius shook his head.

"I wasn't mocking you," he whispered, pressing his lips quickly to Remus'. "It's simply that I think it's an occasion worthy of parades and parties and celebration."

Remus tried to hold back a small laugh, but he couldn't do it. Sirius was right, not about the parades and parties, perhaps, but certainly about the celebration. Remus couldn't think of a better reason to celebrate.

"Listen," said Sirius, switching his tone from intimate to conversational. "I'm going to wrap our pajamas in Prongs' invisibility cloak and take them up to the room. You go on to breakfast. When Prongs and Wormtail and Dingus ask where we were this morning, tell them we were out on the lawn, planning a new prank or something like that."

The thought of returning to normal school life almost sickened Remus. He'd grown quite accustomed over the past night to life in this perfect room with only Sirius' company. He did not want to leave, fearing that the room might never turn up again. You could never trust something magical to be consistent at Hogwarts.

Before they reached the door, Sirius grabbed Remus' hand and pulled him into another kiss. It was just as passionate, just as heated, as any they'd shared in the past twenty-four hours, but there was something else in it now, something Remus wanted to call Understanding. The two boys loved each other, yes, wanted each other, most definitely, but after the Day of Discovery, they now understood each other completely. Most shocking of all was the fact that he, Remus Lupin, most certainly understood Sirius better now than even James Potter.

"Not a word to James," Remus said hastily.

Sirius' eyes shot straight to Remus', and he nodded, as if it was something that went without saying. He pressed his mouth tenderly to each of Remus' cheeks, his forehead, his lips, his chin, and then whispered in his ear, "Not even a breath with your name on it."

***

By noon the next day, everyone at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, had gathered in Sirius' bedroom and had wept and dried their tears of happiness at his return, even Mad-Eye Moody, who had only one eye from which to weep. Still, Sirius would tell no one the story of how he had escaped the Veil. Molly and Arthur understood, as did the four youngest Weasley children, although they were greatly disappointed. Moody, Kingsley, and Tonks had asked a great many questions, all of which Sirius refused to answer.

"I am bound to the Secret of the Veil," he repeated, how many times Harry had lost count. "I cannot betray that bond."

Bond or no bond, Harry still thought it unwise for Sirius to keep this Secret from Tonks and Kingsley, both employees the Ministry of Magic. The way they fired off their questions, Harry could not help but assume that this matter was one of utmost importance, and surely Sirius knew that Tonks and Kingsley would maintain a certain level of confidentiality.

What bothered Harry the most, however, was the fact that Sirius would not relay the story to even Remus or Harry himself. No two people in this house knew Sirius quite like his godson and his closest living friend. After all they had done for Sirius, didn't they deserve to be told what had happened?

Harry would have argued this point, but Moody was first to complain. "You see us all gathered here, all concerned for you, and there is one question yet running through everyone's mind: How did you survive the Veil of Mysteries, Sirius? I can imagine it was a horrifying experience for you, but you must tell someone!"

"No," he answered sternly. "Your concern is greatly appreciated, Moody, but I cannot and shall not speak a word."

"Pathetic," Moody muttered.

Sirius grimaced and jolted upright in his bed. "How dare you! As if I would tell the tale to a man who has the nerve to call me pathetic! If I were to tell anyone here, it would be Remus or Harry, anyway."

Harry couldn't help but smile at this. He wondered why Remus wasn't doing the same.

"Be kind, Sirius," Remus said softly, guiding him back onto his pillow with one gentle hand. "Moody is simply frustrated. You can understand that, can't you?"

Remus' words worked on Sirius like a kind of verbal tranquilizer. Immediately his attitude changed. "I didn't mean to be so temperamental," he said. "I'm grateful to you, to all of you. You can't know how much your kindness to me. Forgive me, please."

Molly, Arthur, and Kingsley all nodded, smiling. Tonks was in tears again, and the grimace faded from Moody's scarred face. Sirius smiled individually at each person in the room, and for the moment everything seemed to be perfect, no one could feel anything but love for everyone else.

Sirius' eyes suddenly turned on Harry, whose face grew warm under Sirius' gaze. "I need to be alone with my godson," Sirius said, addressing the rest of the group.

"Of course," said Molly as she and Arthur gathered their children and made for the door despite the groans of Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny. Neither Tonks nor Moody not Kingsley spoke a word as they followed the Weasleys. Only Remus remained behind. Harry turned to face him, and he smiled sadly.

"I'll be in the parlor if you need me, Sirius," he whispered, smoothing back Sirius' hair with one hand. He rose from the bed, patted Harry gently on the back, and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

"What is it, Sirius?" Harry asked in a soft voice as he moved toward the bed. Sirius motioned for Harry to have a seat beside him on the mattress, and Harry did so.

"Harry," Sirius began, "you have seen a great many terrible things in recent years. On four separate occasions in the past five years, you have faced Voldemort and triumphed."

Harry nodded hesitantly. What was Sirius getting at?

"Listen to me," he continued. "As I have said already, I cannot speak of the Secret of the Veil. But I can show you."

"What do you mean, show me?" asked Harry, his eyes growing wide with excitement. Did Sirius indeed wish to impart this story to another living soul? And why him? Why Harry? Harry could not know what guided Sirius' mind, but if this was what Sirius wished, he would not object.

"Come closer," Sirius whispered, beckoning Harry with one arm. Harry leaned toward Sirius, who sat upright once again. His hand closed around the back of Harry's next, and he pulled Harry slowly toward him. As Harry shut his eyes, he felt the press of Sirius' lips upon his forehead....

The room went dark. Harry could hear the sounds of fighting all around him, but he saw nothing. His eyes began to focus suddenly, and a human form took shape in front of him. As his vision sharpened, he realized the form was a woman with straggly gray hair and a deeply sunken face--Bellatrix Lestrange. Her wand was pointed directly at him.

"Come on!" Harry heard himself yell, his words echoing. It was Sirius' voice, he realized, coming from his mouth. "You can do better than that!"

But suddenly a jet of red light flew out of Bellatrix's wand and struck his chest hard. His back arched, and as he fell to the floor, Harry saw himself across the room, scrambling down the stone steps to the dais.

And then, there was nothing. All light, all form had disappeared once again. The air seemed to whirl around him, and in the distance he heard his own voice crying out, "Sirius! Sirius!" But he saw nothing.

Suddenly, a new sound reached his ears, the sounds of whispered voices, hundreds of them. It felt as if just as many hands were groping him, pulling him away from the distant sounds from the other side of the curtain. Darkness faded into light, and Harry saw that he was surrounded by, not hundreds, but thousands of transparent bodies. He thought of Nearly Headless Nick and wondered, were these ghosts?

"Not ghosts," said a familiar voice. "Spirits."

Harry was standing on his own two feet again, free of the groping hands at last. He realized immediately who had spoken, for in front of him stood the spirit of a young man. He was thin and wore glasses, and his hair, even in death, refused to lay flat on his head.

"James," he said, again in Sirius' voice. "James, you're here!"

James Potter nodded. "But you shall not be for long. It is not yet your time, Sirius. Harry needs you. The Order needs you. You must go back to them. You cannot remain here."

James' transparent form moved toward him, his arms outstretched. "Go now, Sirius," he whispered, embracing him. "Watch over my son. You shall be his father now. You and I shall see each other again, my friend, but not until it is your time."

He had no time to say goodbye, for James disapparated before his very eyes, and suddenly he felt the sensation of hands upon his body once again. He was being lifted high above the masses, carried toward the Veil. He closed his eyes, listening to the whispers, and among them rang one single distinguishable voice. You are bound to the Secret of the Veil...it said to him, and immediately he realized the truth of it.

With a sudden thrust, he was propelled toward the curtain. As his body glided across the fabric, there came a sudden searing pain in his right arm. He winced, clutching the arm tightly as he screamed aloud. He glanced down. Through the ripped fabric of his shirt, he saw a glowing red scar, shaped like an arch--the arch, he realized, that held the Veil of Mysteries. With one last jolt, he flew forward into darkness, into silence....

When he opened his eyes again, he seemed to realize that a large stretch of time had passed. How long he could not tell--days, weeks, months? He remembered James' words; Harry needed him. He was to be Harry's father. He did not know why he had been cast out, not really, nor did he know how it had happened. But there was one thing he was certain of: he had done what no other human had done before--

He had gone through the Veil of Mysteries and come back alive...

Harry's body was jolted backward across the room. He struck the floor hard, his head reeling with the pain of impact, but he somehow managed to scramble to his feet.

Sirius had fallen back against his pillow. His eyes were wrenched shut, and his breathing was labored. Harry rushed to the bed and shook Sirius hard by the shoulder, shouting his name. Slowly, Sirius began to relax. His eyes fluttered open. Tears covered his face as he gazed up at Harry, whose brow was furrowed with concern for his godfather.

"You came back for me," he whispered, and Sirius nodded.

"I would deny your father nothing," he said. "You heard him. James wanted me to take care of you. He gave me back my life so that I might defend you with it."

Harry smiled. "And that is the Secret of the Veil? That the Dead can send others back to do their bidding?"

Sirius sat up and hugged his knees to his chest. "Perhaps that's it. I'm not certain that I was meant to know precisely what the Secret is. Uncertainty would prevent me from sharing the Secret. But I believe you've said it best, Harry. The Dead can protect their loved ones by sending others back through the Veil."

Harry nodded, suddenly feeling more love for his dead father than he had ever felt before. Already, the spirits of his parents had done so much to protect him. And now, they had returned Sirius to him, and for this Harry could feel nothing but love and gratitude.

"You'll tell Lupin all this, too, won't you?" Harry asked suddenly.

Sirius' eyes fixed on him, studying his face. Then he spoke, "I may impart some of the story to Remus. I do feel an obligation toward him. He deserves to know, at least, how and why I returned. But only Remus. And the whole story, the actual Secret of the Veil, is between you and me alone, Harry, as it involves only the two of us. Do you understand that?"

"Yes," Harry whispered.

Of course he understood. Some secrets were meant to be kept.

***

For the second morning in a row, Remus Lupin was elated to be waking up next to Sirius. He loved how the sunlight cascaded off of Sirius' dark hair as he shook it loose, how Sirius' hand came to life against his naked chest, how Sirius' waking breath warmed the skin of his neck.

"Morning," Sirius yawned. His body pressed against Remus' as he arched his back in a great morning stretch. Remus minded little.

"Morning, love," Remus replied, snuggling closer to Sirius under the sheets. The summer sun felt deliciously warm on both of their bodies. "You slept well?"

"Mmm...very. And you?"

"Wonderfully," said Remus, a smirk playing across his lips. Sirius understood perfectly.

"What?" he laughed. "Did you go to bed thinking of the Day of Discovery again?"

He couldn't deny it. Half of him wished he hadn't brought the Day of Discovery up at all, since it had proven to be Sirius' new favorite thing to tease him about. But somehow the mere thought of that day made him love Sirius more than he ever thought he could.

"Wanna know the truth?" Sirius whispered, his mouth a breath away from Remus'. "You had me thinking about it, too."

He seemed to have every intention of kissing Remus first, but he was beaten to it. Sirius' arms enfolded Remus, who yielded to the embrace more than willingly, loving the feel of Sirius' naked skin against his own. Just as it had been on the Day of Discovery, he had no desire to leave Sirius' side, not even for a moment. This was all that was important, being here with him, just happily existing.

"There's a meeting of the Order tomorrow night," Sirius said, breaking off the kiss abruptly. "Did Arthur tell you? Dumbledore is coming, I believe."

Remus frowned. "You ended that kiss to tell me that?"

Sirius had the nerve to actually laugh at Remus' irritation outright. "No," he answered. "I ended that kiss for this."

His tongue began to trail a blazing path down Remus' chest. Remus lifted one hand to the back of his head and tangled Sirius' hair around his fingers.

"Good reason," Remus groaned.

Before he knew what was happening, Sirius' mouth had found his destination and had begun sucking intently, purposefully, like he knew he could make something happen. His hands reached up to explore Remus' body, tenderly at first, and then with increasing brutality as if to match Remus' mounting excitement. His fingers dug into the skin, pulling, twisting, tugging maniacally. It was as if Sirius had total possession of Remus.

No, not as if, Remus thought. Sirius did have total possession of him.

As Remus came, it occurred to him what little difference there was between numbness and sensory overload. Both were strange, foreign feelings, neither of which you could get used to, no matter how hard you tried. And as difficult as it was to distinguish between the two sometimes, he was almost certain that what he felt at that moment was indeed a sensory overload. Every individual cell of his body was alive with the warmth, the tenderness, of Sirius' mouth. Every muscle contracted under Sirius' weight. He was anything but numb.

Remus' eyes were closed, but he knew Sirius had reclaimed the pillow next to him. He felt Sirius' fingers on his face, cool against his heated skin. His lips pursed, he lifted his head off the pillow, as if merely guessing that Sirius' mouth was hovering, waiting to meet his. He was correct. The kiss was like a spark, fast and electric. Remus sunk back onto the pillow, feeling both warm and satisfied.

"Why are you so happy?" Sirius whispered, laughing. He nudged Remus' jaw with his own, then kissed his cheek, quick and chaste, but still gratifying.

Remus sighed. "You know," he began in a very serious tone, "I thought I was never going to see you again. I thought you were gone forever."

"I'm back," Sirius tried to reassure him. "I'm back, and I'm not going anywhere."

Remus closed his eyes. "Back for Harry, you mean?" When he looked at Sirius again, he was shaking his head slowly. Tears were welling up in Sirius' eyes, but he knew they were tears that would never be shed. Sirius never cried unless it was unavoidable.

"I came back for you, too, Moony," he whispered. "I only wonder if I came too late."

Remus sat up and turned to gaze skeptically at Sirius. "What do you mean, too late?"

Sirius looked away, as if he were afraid to answer for a moment, then said, "Too late to be real to you. I don't know that I can be anything more than a ghost to you now. You had all the time you needed to accept that I was dead."

Remus' head shook violently, and he cradled Sirius' face in his quivering hands. "You're not dead to me, Sirius. You were never dead to me. Gone, yes, but not dead. When you came back to Hogwarts and I saw you, I knew I still loved you, maybe more than I ever had before. If that love could survive your thirteen years in Azkaban, then I thought...I knew it could survive anything, even death."

Sirius smiled sadly up at him. "You promise?" he whispered.

Remus nodded and lowered his mouth to Sirius'. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

***

The fun Harry had once associated with Spell Tag was dwindling away. For one, Molly was nagging them constantly to "Keep quiet!" and "Quit dashing around the house like a pack of mad dogs!" For another thing, only Fred and George were permitted to use spells, since the use of magic outside of school was against the rules at Hogwarts, and therefore Harry and Ron were the perpetual victims in this game. Harry was by this time fed up with the bumps and bruises that had been inflicted upon him by the twins.

He headed down the stairs and through the first-floor hallway. Harry couldn't help but smirk as he moved past Kreacher's shriveled head, the latest addition to the collection of mounted house-elf heads that hung on the wall. Remus had done for Sirius the thing he'd wanted to do for so long; he had killed Kreacher. After all the trouble the house elf had caused the Order in the past year, not even Hermione, the self-proclaimed messiah of house elves everywhere, had objected too greatly. Harry thought for a moment how relieved he was to know that Kreacher was no longer lurking around number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

Harry stopped short when he heard the sound of a familiar voice, chanting, "Alohomora!" from the other side of the front door. The door creaked slowly open to reveal a smiling old wizard whose electric blue eyes gazed down at Harry through half-moon spectacles.

"Dumbledore!" Harry cried. He ran toward the open door and threw his arms around his headmaster. Dumbledore braced himself and could not help but give a quick, surprised laugh.

"Nice to see you as well, Mr. Potter!" he chuckled. When Harry backed away, he realized three others had arrived with Dumbledore, these being Professor McGonagall, Mundungus Fletcher, and Professor Snape, whose expression was what it might have been had he caught a whiff of dead carcass.

"Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are downstairs in the kitchen," Harry told them as he led the guests to the basement door. When he opened it, he could hear Mrs. Weasley and Tonks both laughing hysterically, probably at Mad-Eye Moody's eccentricities, no doubt.

"And where and how is Sirius?" Dumbledore asked, still wearing his amiable smile.

"Upstairs with Lupin," Harry answered. He thought for a moment that he saw Snape roll his eyes. "He's doing just fine. Great, actually."

"Be a dear and go fetch him, won't you?" asked McGonagall.

Harry darted off to oblige, but he stopped suddenly and turned to face the group. "What is this meeting about? You aren't here to ask Sirius what happened to him, are you?"

It was Snape who spoke first. "That is precisely what we've come to do, Potter," he spat. "Not that it's any of your concern."

Harry tried as best he could to ignore Snape. "He won't tell you," said Harry. "He refuses to tell anyone what happened."

"Not you, I'm sure," snapped Snape. "And probably not Remus Lupin, either, I would imagine."

But Dumbledore shook his head. "We shall see, Harry. You know, of course, that I would never force Sirius to say a word about anything he does not wish to discuss. If what you say is true, then I shall certainly respect Sirius' wishes. But this is an urgent matter, and we must do what we can to persuade Sirius to tell us his story."

"And if that doesn't work," said Snape, "we can always give you a nice draught of Veritaserum, Mr. Potter--"

"Enough, Severus," said Dumbledore. "We will do no such thing. Harry, won't you please do as Professor McGonagall has asked and go fetch Sirius and Remus?"

Harry nodded, then headed hesitantly toward the stairs. He crept quietly so as not to wake Mrs. Black, whose screaming, Harry thought, he could not possibly endure at this moment. He intended to follow the second-floor corridor to the next flight of stairs, where Sirius' room was located, but suddenly Sirius' voice emanated from Remus Lupin's bedroom.

"You'd better hurry, Mr. Moony," Harry heard Sirius say in a childlike voice. "Dumbledore will be here any minute."

Remus laughed. "I'm working on it, Mr. Padfoot! Just hold your horses, why don't you?"

Harry moved toward the bedroom door, which was cracked open an inch. Harry saw no harm in opening it just a tiny bit more. Neither Remus nor Sirius saw Harry. They stood facing each other, Remus leering with what Harry recognized as mock anger while Sirius fastened the top buttons of Remus' shirt for him.

"And there you are!" Sirius said to Remus. "All buttoned up."

Remus smiled. "Yes, here I am."

Harry had never been so shocked in his life as he was the next moment. Sirius leaned in close to Remus and kissed him on the lips. It was quite obvious that Remus was returning the kiss. Harry knew he wasn't supposed to be witnessing this, but he could not bring himself to budge an inch.

After several seconds, Remus pulled away. "Love you, Mr. Padfoot," he whispered.

"Love you, too, Mr. Moo--"

But before Sirius could finish his sentence, his eyes, wide with horror, fixed on Harry in the doorway. Harry opened his mouth to speak, but what on earth could he possibly say to make this any less awkward? Remus spun around on his heels and gave Harry the same frightened look that Sirius was giving him.

"Harry, please--" Sirius began, but it seemed as if he'd forgotten what he meant to say. He stepped away from Remus and moved toward Harry.

"I...I'm sorry, Sirius," Harry mumbled, his eyes darting frantically around the room. He was embarrassed to so much as look at Sirius now.

Sirius stopped abruptly. "Please don't be angry with me, Harry," he said.

Harry shook his head. He had several emotions whirling around in his head at the moment, but anger was not one of them. What reason had he to be angry with Sirius? "How long--?"

"Years," Remus answered in a quiet voice.

"Since Hogwarts," added Sirius. "Well, practically. I was...in Azkaban for thirteen years, of course, but before...and after, Remus and I were and...have been..."

"Lovers?" Harry finished, his gaze shifting between the two of them. "Why did neither of you ever tell me? I've known you both for the past three years. Why did nobody tell me?"

Sirius shook his head and turned his eyes to the floor. "I don't know. I just thought you'd be disgusted by it."

"Disgusted?" Harry scoffed. "Because you're in love with Remus? Because he's in love with you? Why should I be disgusted by that?"

Remus was laughing lightly as he moved toward Sirius, who couldn't help but smile at his godson. "You mean, it doesn't bother you at all to know that Remus and I are together? Not at all?"

Harry scoffed again. "Of course not! The only people who would be disgusted by that are one's like those who're disgusted by Lupin being a werewolf. So what if you fancy men? I'm quite happy for you, Sirius! I mean, of course, I'll keep quiet about it, if you want me to."

Sirius chuckled. "No, it's quite alright. Most of them know already, anyway--Dumbledore, McGonagall, the Weasleys, Snape..."

"Snape knows?"

Harry saw Remus shrug. "Unfortunately," he said. "He's known the longest, actually. You see, Sirius and I used to...sneak off... to the Room of Requirement together during our last two years at Hogwarts. Well, Snape found out about it, threatened to report it to Dumbledore. But your godfather here made some pretty big threats."

Harry smiled. "Like what?"

"Oh, some spells I knew I could never actually do," Sirius answered, laughing. "But by the time Snape realized I couldn't do them, it didn't matter. Dumbledore already knew what was going on and wasn't phased by it, anyway."

It was a funny thought, but Harry had a much more important question on his mind. "Did...did my dad know?" he asked timidly.

Both Remus' and Sirius' faces became masks of gravity, as was custom whenever either of them spoke to Harry about his father. "Eventually," said Sirius. "Not until we'd left Hogwarts, though. It would've hurt him to know that the reason Remus and I were away from our dormitory so often was because we were...you know...."

"You're wondering if your father was angry," Remus said to Harry. "The answer is no, he was not. James' reaction was just as positive as yours. He was stunned, yes, but never angry. James always concerned himself with his friends' happiness. It was of the utmost importance to him. He was glad, I think, to know that his two best mates had found together what he himself had found with Lily."

Harry smiled at the mention of his mother's name. He moved forward quickly and flung his arms around Remus and Sirius, who both seemed startled but returned the gesture. When Harry looked up, he saw that the two of them were sharing a smile of satisfaction, which filled Harry with the utmost joy.

"C'mon, you two," he said as he pulled away from him. "Dumbledore, McGonagall, Mundungus, and Snape have already arrived. You'd better get down to the kitchen, or they'll be worrying about you."

He moved for Sirius and Remus to pass. As they moved together out the bedroom door, Harry was glad to see that they did so hand-in-hand.

***

To look around number twelve, Grimmauld Place, one would never have guessed that it's owner had been pronounced dead only months earlier and had, in a sense, risen from the dead. Molly Weasley was as motherly as every, bossing everyone--child and adult alike--about while she scuttled from dusty drawer to dusty drawer, doing what she could to keep the place neat and clean. Hermione came to join Harry and the Weasley children soon enough, although most of her summer was spent pouring over her new schoolbooks, which she had gone to pick up in Diagon Alley the previous week.

Members of the Order came and went--Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Tonks, Mad-Eye Moody, Dedalus Diggle, Mundungus Fletcher--all in the best of spirits, all elated at Sirius' return, with the exception, perhaps, of Snape. They went about their meetings, private as ever, but Harry could not believe that anything of dire importance was occurring in regards to Lord Voldemort and the Death Eater camp. Everyone seemed too happy, too carefree, for there to be any real trouble brewing.

What was most heartening, however, was that, now that Sirius and Remus' relationship was out in the open, the two men were no longer forced to hide their affection for one another. By the next week, Harry had been given his own private sleeping quarters after Remus had moved all of his belongings up to Sirius' third-floor bedroom. If this move came as any surprise to Fred, George, Ron, or Ginny, they certainly did not show it. Had Harry, in fact, been the only person at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, who hadn't known about Remus and Sirius?

How could he not have realized it before, he wondered? When he'd seen them in the Pensieve last term, had either of the boys even given one thought to the girls around them? Hadn't they been the only two members of the Order to remain together at headquarters this past year? And on Christmas, hadn't Harry received one present that was from them both? How could Harry have missed that dead giveaway?

But all this was of little importance.

What was important was that Remus and Sirius were happy and together again after Sirius' journey through the Veil. Sure, James Potter had sent Sirius back to protect Harry, but his godfather's return had surely been a blessing for Remus as well. Harry could only imagine how terribly Sirius' lover of nearly twenty years had been affected by the thought of his death. What right had he, Harry, to grieve while someone else had endured that much pain?

Yes, things at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, were indeed going swimmingly. Harry knew that sooner or later, that would change; Lord Voldemort would undoubtedly strike again, the Order of the Phoenix would be forced into action, and the harmony that existed at their private headquarters might soon fade away.

But Harry wasn't worrying about any of that just yet. He had his beloved godfather back, safe and happy, and he could've asked for nothing more in the world.

THE END