A Life More Ordinary

Hogwarts' Library, March 1993

"I'm telling you, Lee--"

"Belt up," Fred's voice interrupted his brother's. "We have ears..." George's head appeared around the shelf. He smirked.

"Well, speak of the devil... and his little side-kick."

Harry frowned as Draco stiffened beside him.

"I never figured you for a snoop, Harry," Fred drawled, joining his brother's head.

Harry made a face. "You only assume we're snooping because you think the three of you are so interesting." He gave the book in his hand a pointed jiggle. "We were looking for a book; you know, since it's a library and all."

Fred and George grinned at him.

"Have you always been so mouthy?"

"Or are you picking up pointers from Ginny?"

"From you, actually," Harry said, feeling smug as the twins' exchanged surprised glances.

"Well, I never."

"He's got a point."

"You hush, Lee," Fred said with a mock-scowl and he gave his friend a shove.

"And for that little insult, Harry," his twin said with a little sniff, "we won't share what we found with you."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah and I bet I'll regret it for the rest of my life," he said. "Let's go, Draco."

"Well, if you're going to insist," Fred said with a grin. He held up a parchment. "We found it in-" He lowered his voice. "-Hogsmeade."

Harry paused, curious despite himself. Anything the twins were involved in could only lead to big trouble, after all. "The last Hogsmeade weekend was last month."

"Your point?" the twins asked together.

Harry studied their freckled faces--their twinkling grins mostly. "You snuck there?"

"How did you get away with that?" Draco asked.

"Oh, we have our ways."

"Not that we'd tell you."

"Yeah," Lee added, "because then we'd have to kill you."

Harry pulled a face. "Either tell or don't. We have class."

"Class?" George echoed. "You're as bad as Hermione."

Harry smiled. "Thanks."

"It wasn't a compliment," Fred said, shaking his head. "Honestly, you'd think that somewhere in there he'd have a bit of Marauder in him."

"What's a Marauder?" Draco asked; he shifted his pack against his shoulders.

"Ah," George said. "So, you've never bragged to your friends about them?"

"What about them?" Harry asked, impatient now.

George sighed in a gusty sort of way. "Remus and Sirius," he explained. "And your dad and that other Wormtail bloke; they made that map, remember?"

"So?"

"So," Fred drawled. "You didn't think they just made the map just to show off their magical prowess, did you?"

Harry shrugged.

"They called themselves the Marauders, Harry" George said, leaning forward, his blue eyes dancing with excitement. "Mischief-makers."

"Schemers."

"Pranksters," Lee added with a nod.

"Remus?" Harry said doubtfully.

Fred and George grinned slyly. "True, McGonagall never mentions him when she says we remind her of your dad and Sirius, but he was definitely one of them."

Harry's eyes narrowed as he looked between the trio. "What are you on about?"

With a flourish, George produced a small, dusty, dog-eared book. "They've all signed it, see?"

"Ah, ah, ah," Fred cautioned, waggling a finger as Harry reached out, "musn't touch--"

Harry snatched the book from Fred's limp grasp, turning his back on them; Draco moved with him, effectively blocking any attempts to recapture the prize.

"Bloody Seeker's reflexes," one of the twins muttered.

While Draco leaned over his shoulder, Harry thumbed the cover open. All in distinctive--and recognizable in two cases--script, there were four signatures scrawled across the first page. Harry smiled to himself as he traced a finger over his father's.

"What is it?"

Harry shook his head at Draco's question, but the twins and Lee popped round in front. "It's a diary," George said.

"A log of mischief really."

"Plans and the like."

"Accomplishments too."

"Would you two shut up for a minute? Just let me read it."

The twins snapped their mouths shut, their blue eyes suddenly full of mischief. "Cheeky thing, isn't he?" George said, nudging his brother.

"Especially because he can't keep it," Fred said with a nod.

Harry raised his head, but Draco spoke before he could. "It isn't yours."

"We found it, didn't we?"

"On an unauthorized trip to Hogsmeade," Draco said with a falsely conciliatory nod. He smiled. "I'm certain McGonagall would like to know about that."

"Oy, he'd turn us in," George said, placing a hand over his heart and pretending to faint.

"And lose Gryffindor dozens of points," his doppelganger added with a dramatic fist to his forehead.

"And just think of the detentions."

The brothers nodded at Lee, both of them feigning looks of horror. "You'd better keep it then," George said, sweeping his arm in a grand gesture and sketching a bow in Harry's direction.

"Yeah, since we've already copied the best pranks anyway," Fred added with a smirk. They grinned at Harry, showing their teeth. Draco scowled at them as they skirted round and scooped up their books, shoveling most into their bags.

"Just don't tell anyone who gave it to you," Lee said as he hoisted his pack over his shoulder.

"Or where we got it," George said.

"You didn't tell me where you got it," Harry pointed out; he hugged the book to his chest. The twins' smiles stopped being goofy as they gazed at Harry.

Fred shrugged his bag on and said with a small smile, "Shrieking Shack."

George patted his shoulder. "It's got some scribbles near the end--your dad's I think, but we didn't read past the first one."

"Thanks," Harry said. Fred and George flashed him another smile before they disappeared with Lee behind a stack of books.

"The Shrieking Shack?" Draco whispered as Harry opened the book again. "Those two are mental."

"They're always doing things like that," Harry said absently as he glanced through a plan, in Sirius' handwriting, to turn someone's hair into a nest for swallows--a bloke named Slughorn.

"But the Shrieking Shack? Everybody knows a werewolf used to live there."

Harry glanced up at his friend. "But not any longer. Nobody's heard it for years."

"Even if it was ten years ago, what if it came back? What if it still lives there?" Draco shuddered dramatically and then asked curiously, "Are you going to ask Sirius about that tomorrow?"

"Guess so," Harry murmured; tomorrow was the start of Easter Holidays.

"Come on," Draco said, grimacing as he glanced at the huge clock on the far wall. "Sprout will take a million points if we're late."

Harry fell in beside Draco, his eyes still glued to the text as they walked.

--

Sirius thanked the server as two pints of Butterbeer settled on the table in Fortescue's the following afterrnoon. "So," he said as he slid one toward Harry, "are you plotting something especially mischievous? Or have you already committed the crime and are finding the nerve to tell me?"

Harry let out a breath of laughter as Sirius poked a finger near his ribs. He batted it away, smiling. "The twins gave me something," he explained.

Sirius's dark eyebrows soared. "Worse than I thought then." He smiled though, obviously trusting that Harry wouldn't do anything too dreadful. "Going to tell me what it is?" he asked, keeping Harry's eye over the rim of his glass as he sipped.

Harry had debated showing the book to Sirius, mostly because he knew that Remus wouldn't like him to have access to so many pranks--or at least the Remus he knew wouldn't have liked it. But since some of the plans in the book had been in Remus' own writing, Harry had finally decided that he couldn't object too much. So he pulled the leather-bound book from where he'd crammed it carefully into the pocket of his jeans.

Sirius didn't immediately give any indication that he recognized the book; he merely squinted curiously at it as Harry flapped the cover with an idle thumb.

"Fred and George thought I'd like it because it belongs to you and Remus," he said, peeking up at his godfather through his lashes. "And my dad..."

Sirius tilted his head. Harry watched the Butterbeer sloshing up the sides of the cold mug, nearly spilling over the top as Sirius set it down. "May I see it?"

Harry smiled at the eagerness in Sirius' tone. "They found it in the Shrieking Shack," he said as he pushed it with his fingertips toward his godfather. Sirius captured it, skirting it around his Butterbeer. He grinned as soon as he flipped the cover.

Just as Harry had done, his thumb swept across James' signature. He looked up suddenly, his eyebrows pinched together. "The Shrieking Shack?" he echoed, catching up with Harry. "What were the twins doing there?" He shook his head before Harry could answer. "Oy, never mind; don't tell me. I don't want to know."

Harry smirked. Sirius smiled at him and turned the page, grinning again as his eyes roamed the page. "Look at this. This one was your dad's idea," he said, pointing to the handwriting that Harry was quickly becoming familiar with.

"You actually made a rain cloud in the Great Hall?"

"Thunder too," Sirius said, his grey eyes dancing with remembered mirth. "We never quite managed the lightning. It was rather tricky to get rid of the cloud though; Slughorn actually had a little bit of it that followed him for about a month afterward," he chuckled. "He finally attached an umbrella to his head."

Harry laughed. "Didn't you get into trouble?"

Sirius shrugged. "Most of the teachers were too impressed with that one to punish us. We did get detention fairly often though," he admitted. "That's why we invented those mirrors."

"What did you get detention for?"

Sirius smoothed out a crease in one of the pages with his index finger. All of the humor was lost from his expression as he sighed. "Not all of our pranks were in fun. There was one bloke in particular who we didn't get along with."

Harry's finger squeaked as he ran a path through the condensation on the side of his mug. "Why not?"

Sirius frowned, considering or perhaps remembering. "His name was Snape. At first it was because he was in Slytherin. And we were in Gryffindor." Harry nodded, not because he had any particular rivalry with Slytherins but because he didn't really like Hufflepuff these days. Things had never really gone back to normal between the two houses after the brawl last term. "Later it was because he liked your mother." He smiled a little. "Your dad was jealous because they were friends."

"Yeah?" Harry couldn't help the smile.

"Mmhm..." Sirius' face grew solemn again. "I always regretted how far we let the rivalry get. Your dad did as well; and Remus. I'm not proud of the way we treated him."

Harry could understand that. Even though he didn't like Justin, he was sorry for using that curse on him during the fight.

Sirius twisted the warming Butterbeer in his hands. "Snape was the one who found Peter and turned him in."

Harry straightened a little. He didn't think Sirius had ever mentioned Peter Pettigrew unprompted. "Even though you didn't get on?"

Sirius capped his Butterbeer with a palm; he nodded. "The headmaster asked him to help search for Peter. I'm not certain why he asked Snape, but yes, even though he didn't like me, he helped us."

Harry had to draw back a little as plates floated over and arranged themselves in front of them. Sirius closed the book, but before he could put it away, Harry said, "There are a couple pages in the back that Dad wrote. Silly stuff..." He shrugged, his face warming a bit. "... about mum."

"Is there now?" Sirius drawled, a mischievous grin on his face. He nudged his plate away with a knuckle and flipped through the book until he found the page filled with James' doodles. He snorted. Harry smiled, unable to see it enough even if it was embarrassing. His mother's name written hastily over and over again in his dad's bold script. There were even little hearts and a rather lopsided sketch of a lily.

"He sketched an entire bunch of lilies once," Sirius murmured, a sad smile on his face as he looked up. "For your mum. They weren't very good. But... she loved them."

Harry's fringe flopped onto his forehead as he leaned over for a better look. He glanced up when Sirius brushed the hair aside. Sirius sighed quietly, his thumb sweeping over Harry's forehead a few times, eventually letting his hand drop to turn the page. Another set of doodles and then the pages were blank.

Harry leaned back in his seat, disappointed even though he already knew that was all of them. Sirius though kept turning the pages; he was frowning. "What's the matter?" Harry asked, wiping his chin after a hastily interrupted slug of Butterbeer.

"I think there's a charm on the rest of these pages. To keep anyone from reading it..." Sirius ran his fingers down the length of one of the pages. "I can almost make them out. The spell must be wearing off."

"Can you take it off?" Harry asked excitedly, nearly bouncing in his seat. His eyes still on the book, Sirius deftly moved Harry's plate out of the way as it almost took a nose dive off the table.

"I might be able to." He smiled as he looked up. "Your dad probably didn't want us to know how mad he was for your mum. Don't know how he thought we didn't know; we used to tease him endlessly."

Harry nodded, too impatient to be amused. Sirius did a poor job of hiding his smile as he waved his wand over the pages. His eyebrows scrunched together in concentration as he muttered several incantations.

"Eat your sandwich," he interrupted himself, giving Harry's full plate a pointed look. Harry took a bite, barely chewing. He chased it with another sip of Butterbeer, his attention glued to his godfather's efforts.

"Ah ha!"

Harry abandoned his handful of crisps and wiped his greasy fingertips on his jeans. Words were bleeding across the pages, black ink filling them completely. Harry squinted, trying to a get a better look but before he could glimpse any words other than 'hate' and 'moon' Sirius tilted the book up, cutting off Harry's view completely. Sirius' shoulders hunched as his eyes zigzagged the page.

"Did it work?"

Sirius looked up, his eyes startled for the briefest moment and then his features shifted so that he was smiling, but Harry didn't think he was happy.

"What does it say?"

Instead of sliding it over for Harry to see, or even answering, Sirius closed the book; his fingers tapped out a short rhythm against the soft cover. "Your dad didn't write it," he said.

"Who did then?" Harry asked before he could consider that it probably wasn't his business. But Sirius didn't remind him as much. He smiled again, still not convincing Harry that he wasn't tense.

"Remus," he said quietly. "And it's rather private."

Harry felt his shoulders drooping as his excitement deflated. "Oh," was all he could think so say. He tried to ignore his disappointment; he did have those other few pages after all. His eyes widened as Sirius put the book into his pocket. "But I wanted to keep it," he protested.

Sirius sighed. "I know. It doesn't belong to us though--"

"Some of it belongs to you," Harry interrupted. "And what about those pages of my dad's?" he rushed on before Sirius could disagree. "Can't I at least have those? And some of the other parts that he wrote?" He didn't mean to whine; he knew he didn't need those pages and it was stupid... but he had felt close to his dad after he'd read all those plans; he'd spent hours studying the doodles last night.

It was like he knew his dad a little now.

Sirius had an odd look on his face. Harry didn't have time to decipher it though. His godfather straightened a little, another pasted smile on his face. "I'll tell you what," he said, sounding like he was trying too hard to be cheerful. "Remus will be home tomorrow. He can take his pages out and then you may have the rest of it. All right?"

Harry crushed one of his crisps with his thumb. He fanned the crumbs out as he nodded. "O.K."

"We had best eat," Sirius said, interrupting Harry's meticulous arrangement of the rest of his crisps into a tower. Harry glanced up. Sirius smiled, his grey eyes soft. "Ollivander is expecting us," he added as he picked up his sandwich. "He asked me three times yesterday when you were going to be home. I think he's excited to see you."

Harry smiled as he put a crisp in his mouth.

--

"What is this anyway?"

Sirius glanced up at the manky old... something in Harry's hand. He leaned forward, squinting. "Oh. That was my brother's." He plucked it from Harry's hand, turning it over as he examined it. "I think one of his girlfriends gave it to him... not sure what it is though; some sort of hat?"

Harry eyed the squashy gray velvet. "Looks like a dead rabbit."

"Only if you tilt it a bit to the left... Here, let's see how it looks-" Harry dodged, grinning as Sirius reached out to put on his head. "No? Don't fancy a dead rabbit on your head?" Smirking, Sirius flicked his wrist and the hat--if that's what it was--flew through the air and landed with a soft thump on an old dresser, sending up a cloud of dust.

Harry wrinkled his nose and returned to his searching. Sirius watched him with a smile. They had been up here since returning from Ollivander's--Harry with a chocolate dragon's egg from the wand maker. Harry had been unusually quiet during the visit. And the little attic-cleaning excursion had begun as an excuse for Harry to look through the boxes stored here; and a distraction from the book Harry had found. Sirius was enjoying it as much as Harry was though.

"This must have been your mum's."

Sirius leaned in, furrowing his brow as he saw the gold chain dangling from Harry's fingers. "Never seen it before." He squinted as he pulled it from Harry's grip. "I don't think I ever saw her wear a locket."

Scooting closer, Harry said, "Maybe there's a picture inside."

Sirius slipped his thumbnail between the two halves, but the locket stayed firmly closed. Even exerting more pressure did nothing. He shrugged and put it back at the bottom of the box. "Doesn't open... Oy, look at these," he murmured, lifting a small stack of photos that had somehow found its way into Regulus' boxes. "It's your mum and dad."

Harry scooted over, jostling Sirius' arm as he pressed himself as close as he could. "There was a Christmas ball that year. I don't think I've ever seen your mum so excited." He handed the picture to his godson. Harry studied every centimeter of the picture, his lips pursed in concentration as if he was trying to memorize it.

"Do you think I'll look like him--" Harry paused. "How old was he?"

"Seventeen. And yes, I do think you'll look like him when you're older. You've always looked like your dad."

"Except my eyes," Harry said, looking satisfied on both counts. Sirius smiled. "May I keep it?" Harry asked, the words overly hopeful.

"Of course." Sirius squeezed his godson's shoulder. "Now." He looked around the attic. "We still need to find that box I mentioned and then we'll see about dying our assigned eggs for tomorrow's festivities. Mrs. Weasley gave us two dozen. Here," he said, pushing himself to his feet and hoisting Harry up alongside, "I think my boxes are over in that corner. Watch out for spiders."

"I'm not Ron," Harry said, grinning.

"Hmm," Sirius murmured, as he batted a rather large spider away from the corner in question, "good job you're not. Ah, here it is!" Sirius had meant to come up for this particular box for years. "Look," he said, "it's my Quidditch badge. Your dad had one just like it."

Harry fingered the badge. "It hasn't changed very much since you played."

"It wasn't that long ago," Sirius said, pretending to be affronted. "I'm only thirty-three you know."

"Well, it's different anyway since you were a Chaser," Harry allowed. Sirius ruffled his hair, amused at the kid's cheek and went back to his box, where he and Harry rummaged quite happily for another hour before dusting off their hands--with a little help from Sirius' Cleaning Charm--and heading downstairs to Easter eggs and a late dinner of shepherd's pie.

--

"Step back a bit there, boys," Mr. Weasley said as he and Bill arranged the last pieces of wood for the bonfire the following evening, an Easter Sunday tradition that Harry and his family had shared with the Weasleys for years.

"I think he meant more than a centimeter," Sirius said with a small smile. He tapped Harry's knees. Harry took an exaggerated step away from the pile of wood. Rolling his eyes, Ron went with him. "One more," Sirius said, smirking now.

"We'll be on the other side of the garden if we move any farther," Ron groused.

"Even better."

Harry pulled a face. "We're not going to fall in or anything."

"Good to hear," Sirius said. "I wouldn't want to have to fish you out."

"There wouldn't be anything left to fish," George said as he came up behind his little brother and gave him a shove.

"Maybe you should put an anti-inflammatory spell on them," Fred suggested, grinning when Ron scowled.

"We aren't babies."

George opened his mouth to retort but Mr. Weasley interrupted, "Let's try to keep the insults to a minimum today, shall we? It is a holiday, after all. Fred and George, why don't you see if your mother needs any help?"

George and Fred shrugged and went off toward the house, but not before sticking their tongues out at their brother when they were no longer in Mr. Weasley's peripheral.

Harry and Ron watched Bill and Mr. Weasley unload another armful of wood until Ron stumbled as he demonstrated a new Quidditch move he'd seen in Quidditch Weekly and nearly sent Mr. Weasley sprawling headfirst into the pile. When Bill helped his father up, Mr. Weasley gave Ron a rare glower.

"It's going to be a while yet before we're ready," Sirius interjected as Mr. Weasley straightened his shirt.

"You'll call us before you light it?" Harry asked quickly, wanting to get Ron away before Mr. Weasley found the breath to scold him.

"Have we ever forgotten to?"

Harry shrugged sheepishly.

"Go play," Sirius said with a smile and a small nudge.

"Why do parents always tell us to go play?" Ron demanded as they wandered around the yard, stopping to peer into Mr. Weasley's shed but going no farther than the door. "Do they think we're still five?" he grumbled while they poked around for gnomes in the garden.

Harry was fairly certain that Mrs. Weasley at least did think exactly that. Sirius, probably not. But Ron wouldn't want to hear anything positive about parents at the moment so Harry just let his friend continue to complain as they made their slow way toward the house, stopping to throw rocks into the small pond, grinning when they startled the fish.

They stopped in the kitchen for some chocolates, dashing toward the stairs when they heard Mrs. Weasley talking to someone in the parlour. They met Hermione and Ginny just coming out of Ginny's room.

"If you want chocolate, your mum's down there," Harry told them. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Not before dinner," she scolded.

"Did you manage to pinch some?" Ginny asked, eyeing her brother's stuffed front jacket pocket.

"You're not getting any."

"Here," Harry said, depositing his stash into Ginny's hands. He shrugged at Hermione's questioning look and hurried to catch up with Ron.

"I should have just stayed at school," Ron complained as they climbed the stairs to his room. "At least I have some privacy there--" He stopped walking abruptly and Harry ploughed into him. "Oof! What are you two doing in here? It's my room--"

"Oh, do shut up," George drawled. He and Fred were crouched on the floor, both of them with their wands in their hands.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked. They shook their heads and Harry thought he heard low voices, though he couldn't make out the words.

"What is that?"

"Hush," George commanded. He leaned forward on his knees and pressed his ear against the wall closest to the door. "We're trying a Listening Charm."

"What for?" Ron asked.

"What for?" Fred curled in disgust.

"Eavesdropping," Ginny said as she strolled in, Hermione right behind her.

Forever feeling left out, Ron demanded, "How do you know?"

Ginny mimicked his cross expression. "Mum found out about the one they were using this morning. I heard her lecturing them." She sat on Ron's bed, crossing her legs and propping her chin in a palm. "She'll kill you if she finds another."

"Be quiet," George hissed. "They're talking about Harry."

Harry's head whipped round. "Who?"

George flapped a hand at him. "Remus and Sirius."

"Remus is here?"

"What are they saying?" Ron asked.

"You shouldn't eavesdrop," Hermione said from where she stood beside Ron's desk, arms crossed.

Predictably, the twins ignored her and even Harry couldn't defend her. Of course he knew she was right, but curiosity won out in this case. "What are they saying?" he echoed his friend as he crept closer.

"Well, if you'd shut up," Fred said calmly, "we could all hear."

"We're trying to adjust the volume."

"You're not supposed to use magic outside of Hogwarts," Hermione said, but even she had moved closer to the gathered group, her arms dropping to her sides.

"No one notices underage magic with all the other magic around," George murmured, still distracted by whatever he was doing with his wand. "Bullocks."

"... Thank you," Remus' tired voice suddenly filled the room. "I know you think I should tell him, but I am simply not ready for him to know."

Ginger heads turned to ogle Harry. Hermione too.

"They can't mean me," Harry protested, still talking in a whisper. "Know what?"

"I'll take the pages out," Remus went on before anyone could guess.

"He'll be glad to have it back," Sirius said. "He was excited to have something of James'... something he can keep with him."

Remus' sigh was loud in Ron's room. "Of course he was," he said, the words sounding strained even at their loud volume. "I don't know how..."

Sirius' voice was as soothing as Remus' was haggard. "You're tired," he said. "You'll feel better in a few days, once the full moon--"

"Children!" Mrs. Weasley's call echoed up the stairs, hasty footsteps quickly following. The twins stuffed their wands under one of the shirts lying on the floor and the rest of Remus' words were muffled. They scrambled out the door with their siblings and Hermione. Harry didn't move though, trying to make sense of his parents' words.

What did a full moon have to do with Remus?

And more importantly, what didn't Remus want him to know?

It was a job to ignore his conscience but he did, kneeling to unearth the twins' wands. Remus' weary voice immediately filled the room, "I know he is, Sirius. He's more mature than any other child I know, but I can't tell him that I'm a werewolf. Greyback bit me over thirty years ago. Thirty years, and I've never told anyone. I wouldn't have told even you if you and James hadn't discovered it on your own."

"I know," Sirius murmured softly.

"Harry!" Ron burst back into the room, nearly throwing the door off its hinges. "What are you doing? It's time to eat!"

"Come on," Sirius' quiet voice said, echoing off the walls. Ron cocked his head.

"Did they say something else?" he demanded. "What did they say?"

Harry stared at his friend, too stunned to speak. But surely he couldn't have heard what he thought he had. It wasn't possible.

Remus couldn't be a--

People just weren't--

Harry shook his head dumbly, trying to clear his thoughts enough to think.

"Nothing," Harry mumbled as Ron continued to stare at him. "I didn't hear anything."

Ron shrugged. "What are you sitting here for then? Let's go eat." Harry couldn't seem to move though. Ron heaved a sigh and tugged his arm until Harry was standing and following his mate down the stairs, his legs as numb as his brain.

A werewolf.

Remus couldn't be a werewolf. He was just Remus.

Werewolves were fearsome--howling at full moons and hunting people. Lockhart had devoted an entire lesson to his supposed encounter with one. Werewolves were monsters according to Lockhart--frightening young children and accomplished wizards alike.

Just like that one that used to live in the Shrieking Shack...

Harry's mouth suddenly felt like someone had filled it with sand.

The Shrieking Shack.

That's where the twins had found the diary.

An odd tingle coursed up Harry's spine, sending gooseflesh prickling all over his arms and up his neck. The feeling intensified for a moment as he and Ron finally stopped in front of the long tables of food. Remus and Sirius were coming out of the small grove of trees beside the shed.

Harry stood there, rooted to the ground.

"Happy Easter," Remus said as he and Sirius approached. He smiled down at Harry, as if everything was perfectly normal. Gave him a quick squeeze like he always did.

"Hi..." Harry moved away as soon as Remus released him. He sat on one of the low benches circling the logs, ignoring Sirius' glance. He watched Mr. Weasley lighting the fire, his gaze switching after a minute to Remus' face. There were deep shadows under his eyes, his face pale and drawn. His hair a bit too long. And as Harry sat there studying the weary features, he realized that Remus always looked that way after he returned from a trip.

His mind traced through the past months slowly. He'd need a calendar to sort through all the lunar cycles but he could just bet that each trip of Remus' was during the full moon.

The sun was just beginning to set, the lines in Remus' face deepening as the fire crackled to life. A cheer went up, but Harry barely noticed it.

He narrowed his eyes as he stared at Remus, a funny feeling worming its way into his stomach as he watched Sirius saying something into Remus' ear. Remus shook his head, shifting a bit so that he was leaning into Sirius' side; Sirius wound his arm around Remus' waist and guided him onto one of the benches. Sirius kissed Remus' cheek and went to help Mrs. Weasley with the food.

Remus' shoulders slumped, a sigh escaping as he rubbed his face. He didn't move after that but Harry continued to stare at him.

"I managed to get some for you before the twins and Ron descended."

Harry's head came up. Sirius was holding out a plate of food, a grin on his face.

His eyebrows went up as he sat beside Harry. "You couldn't have eaten that much chocolate."

Harry felt his godfather shifting; the plate scraping against wood.

"Is something the matter?" he asked quietly. Harry shook his head swiftly, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

But of course Sirius didn't accept that. Harry shrugged off his hand though when it settled against a shoulder blade.

"Harry--"

Feeling jumbled up, Harry pushed up from the bench. "I'm gonna see if there's any food left." He skirted the other benches, knowing Sirius was probably staring after him--with that look on his face, but Harry didn't care. Or at least he told himself so. He didn't stop until he was at the long table, laid out in mountains of food by Mrs. Weasley.

He grunted his thanks when Hermione handed him a plate. He turned away quickly and went along the table, piling food until he needed both hands to keep it from decorating the lawn.

Ron was heading for the bench nearest Remus', but Harry nudged the back of his knees with a toe before he could. He jerked his head to the bench on the opposite side, ignoring Ron's protest that it was too close to his stupid brothers.

"Aren't you going to eat more?" Ron finally asked through his mouthful; bits of potato spewed Harry's shirt.

Harry shoved his plate away. "Too much chocolate."

Ron gaped at him for a moment before he shrugged and went back to shoveling food into his mouth. "Mum'sh lamb isthe besth," he said around the masticated meat. He wiped his mouth on a sleeve and grinned. "Glad I came home." Harry rolled his eyes. He leaned forward, welcoming the heat from the huge fire.

The sun was setting rapidly, the flames beginning to make eerie patterns on faces as they danced. Harry couldn't see Remus and Sirius, but they were probably talking about him, he thought with some bitterness.

Talking and keeping secrets. And lying.

Because they'd lied to him for years, hadn't they? Forever really. Making up stories about Remus having meetings and going on trips.

Well fine. They obviously thought he wouldn't understand; since he was just a kid. Or maybe they thought he'd be a big baby and be scared of Remus. As if anyone could ever be frightened of Remus. Even if he was a werewolf, he was only a werewolf for one day out of the whole month. And it wasn't as if it was Remus' fault that he had been bitten.

Harry wasn't too daft to understand all that. Obviously though, his parents thought he was.

"You all right, mate?" Ron asked. Harry glanced at him, surprised that the words had not been accompanied by half-chewed food.

"Yeah," Harry said with a firm nod. He swiped his plate up from the bench. He flicked his wrist and the tower of uneaten food tumbled into the flames; they crackled appreciatively. "Let's get pudding."

--

Hours later, after all the dyed eggs had been rolled, tapped and gobbled up, Arthur and Bill took the Grangers home. Sirius found Harry and Ron inside the shed, each of them sitting atop a short stack of tires, considering the sedate blue car in between.

Sirius had very carefully left Harry to his own devices. He had no idea what was troubling his godson. Whatever it was though, Harry had made it clear that he wanted space. As he stood silently in the doorway, Sirius wondered if the two boys had discussed another trip in the enchanted automobile.

Ron noticed him first, his face instantly coloring a deep red. He scrambled off his tires, making enough noise that Harry's head came up.

"I better go," Ron said as he slunk past Sirius. "Mum... er... probably needs help cleaning up." Sirius didn't watch him go, his gazed fixed on his godson. Harry was watching him as well, intently studying Sirius' movements as he stepped into the garage.

"Want to tell me what that was about?" Sirius asked quietly, indicating the hasty path that Ron had just taken.

Harry shrugged. "He just thought you were going to tell us we aren't supposed to be in here."

"You aren't," Sirius reminded him, confused by the indifference in his godson's tone.

Harry's heel bounced several times against the rubber tire at the bottom of the stack. "We didn't drive the car or anything."

Sirius took a moment to respond, beginning to feel a bit adrift--liked he'd missed something very important. "Mrs. Weasley has asked all of you not to come in here though, and I'd like you to respect that," he said finally, keeping his voice light.

"Don't know why she's so particular about it. It's just a load of junk. Batteries and rubber ducks aren't even dangerous."

"That car is though--"

"I already said we didn't drive it," Harry huffed. He hopped off his tires. "We didn't even sit in it. I'm not stupid you know."

Sirius' brow furrowed. "I don't think you're stupid--"

"Yeah right," Harry muttered.

Sirius caught his wrist as he tried to pass. Harry glared up at him, the set of his jaw reminding Sirius of Lily at her most stubborn. His carefully composed comment was whisked away for the more exasperated, "What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? You've been brooding ever since you came back from whatever you were doing with Ron."

Scowling, Harry tugged against Sirius' fingers. Sensing a brewing storm, Sirius let go. "We weren't doing anything wrong," Harry said crossly.

"I didn't say you were--"

"You thought it," Harry pressed, sounding so offended that Sirius felt guilty for wondering if his godson had come in here to fly the car. "Because you and Remus think I'm just a stupid kid who can't understand anything."

Sirius' brows knitted as he stared down at Harry, at the inexplicable anger in the green eyes. "I absolutely do not think you're stupid, Harry James. You are the brightest kid I've ever met--and that includes both your mother and Hermione."

"Then why didn't you tell me that Remus is a werewolf?"

For a moment, Sirius felt like he was caught in the pull of someone else's Apparition.

When the world righted itself again, Harry was still glaring up at him. Sirius willed himself calm, quickly reviewing the last five minutes. Harry didn't seem bothered that Remus was a werewolf--not frightened at least. He was angry at being excluded. Sirius had known he would be. It didn't make this any easier however.

He took a slow breath, let it out again and said quietly, "Where did you hear that?"

"Fred and George were playing with a Listening Charm."

Sirius' heart beat faster in alarm.

"I kept listening after they left," Harry added, his arms crossed over his chest defiantly.

Relieved that no one else had overheard, Sirius sighed and pointedly ignored Harry's glare. "I think we'd best go home. Remus is already there--"

"I heard him say he's a werewolf," Harry interrupted; Lily's stubborn jaw reappeared. "So you can't lie about it any longer."

Sirius frowned. "I don't like that tone." Harry stuffed his hands into his pockets, and turned his glare to the dusty floor. "And no one is going to lie to you," Sirius added quietly. He reached a hand toward Harry's bowed head, reconsidered before he made contact; folded his arms across his chest. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you, Harry. But it's more complicated--"

Harry's head snapped up. "No it isn't!"

"Harry, you have no idea--"

"I know all about werewolves, Sirius."

Sirius blew out a breath; let his arms drop. "That isn't what I meant... no, don't interrupt me. We need to go home and have this conversation with Remus."

But Harry didn't lose his belligerent stance. "I know it was Remus that didn't want to tell me."

"It was Remus' choice--a very personal choice," Sirius said, his voice low in an effort to stay calm. Harry had every right to be upset, after all. And one of the reasons Sirius hadn't wanted to delay the secret.

"Is that why you wouldn't show me what Remus wrote?" Harry demanded.

"Harry..." Sirius shook his head wearily. "Remus needs to be part of this. We'll go home and I promise that we'll answer all of your questions. Come here."

Harry didn't move.

"Planning on Apparating by yourself then?"

Harry scowled at him. "Fine," he said through his huff. "But I want the book back."

Sirius' eyebrows rose. "I didn't realize I was negotiating."

"You said I could have it."

His nerves frayed, Sirius snapped. "And I can change my mind."

"No you can't," Harry said furiously. Tears welled in his eyes but he quickly swiped them away. "Those pages that my dad wrote aren't yours. He'd want me to have them."

Regretting his brief loss of temper, Sirius nodded. "I know--"

"And I bet my dad would have told me about Remus."

It was astounding that a twelve year old's words could gouge so deeply. Especially because Harry probably had no idea how much they would. He was just angry, Sirius told himself reasonably. He didn't know how often Sirius wondered if James would approve of how he was raising Harry.

And Harry didn't know how guilty Sirius often felt for having the privilege instead.

"He might have," Sirius finally said coolly, when he could speak without warbling. "Remus has the diary; I'm certain he'll give it to you if you ask."

Harry's brow slumped in confusion.

"Are you ready to Apparate?"

Harry stepped closer, holding himself stiffly as Sirius brought him close. Sirius ignored the tickle in his throat as he turned on the spot.

--

Sirius released Harry rather abruptly once the world had whirled into focus again and they were standing in the parlor. Harry wasn't exactly sure what had changed his godfather's mood so swiftly, but he was too irritated at both of his parents to ponder about it. He stepped away from Sirius, frowning as Remus looked up from where he was sitting on the sofa.

Remus' smile faltered as he looked between Harry and Sirius. "What's the matter?"

Sirius grimaced and Harry noticed the taut muscles in his face for the first time. Sirius sat beside Remus, but Harry didn't give him a chance to explain. Without a lick of tact, he said, "I know you're a werewolf."

Remus went absolutely still.

"Harry."

"What?" Harry said, not caring how rude he was being. "You were going to tell him anyway."

Sirius' eyes snapped. "Sit down," he said. "And close that smart mouth of yours."

A bit startled by the harsh command, Harry forgot to argue. He dropped onto the chair across from Remus, slumping as deep as he could into the cushions and crossing his arms jerkily over his chest.

Sirius turned back to Remus. "I'm sorry. If you need some time--"

Remus finally moved; just a tiny shake of his head, his focus on Harry. Sirius tangled his fingers in Remus'.

Remus gazed at Harry for a long, weary minute. "I don't know how to begin..."

"Another lie probably," Harry mumbled. Surprise flitted across the shadows marking Remus' face.

Sirius frowned. "Hey."

But Harry didn't care.

"Well, it's true, isn't it?" He felt a stab of remorse at the hurt that made Remus' face fall, but he was too angry to pay much attention to it.

"Now that's enough," Sirius said, leaning forward to take Harry's upper arm in a firm grip so that Harry had no choice but to sit up straight. "I know you're angry, but you do not speak to Remus like that."

"Well, he should have told me!"

Remus winced. Sirius glanced at him and then his face transformed into a scowl as his eyes came back to Harry. "Do not raise your voice to us again," he said. "We will discuss it for as long as you'd like, but we'll do it calmly. Is that clear?"

Harry glared down at his fingers and didn't answer. Sirius cupped his chin, bringing Harry's gaze up; Sirius' eyes narrowed.

"I said is that clear?" he demanded quietly. Heat crept into Harry's cheeks; he nodded without thinking about it. "This is not something that Remus is comfortable discussing, and your attitude is making it much more difficult," Sirius went on, and Harry wanted to close his eyes so he wouldn't have to see the look of disappointment on his godfather's face. "He deserves better treatment from you."

Shame clawed at Harry's belly; he swallowed hard but he couldn't seem to speak. Sirius finally released his chin. Harry bit the inside of his lower lip, his cheeks still tingling as he watched Sirius lower his head and massage his closed eyelids.

"I didn't want to burden you with such a secret," Remus said quietly, his voice very hoarse. Sirius sighed as he looked up again; he crossed his arms, folding his hands under his armpits as he stared at the wall behind Harry's shoulder.

When he spoke again, his voice was weary, "You can't ever tell anyone, Harry." He met Harry's gaze again and Harry's stomach twisted painfully when he saw how unhappy his godfather looked. "It wouldn't have been fair for us to make you carry the secret with you. We weren't trying to exclude you from anything." Sirius leaned forward a little. "Can you understand that?"

Harry nodded, his reticence this time having nothing to do with anger or defiance.

Remus cleared his throat softly into the silence that followed. "Do you have any ... questions?"

Harry switched his gaze between his parents, his mind whirling with dozens of questions. He didn't want to ask any of them; amidst all his anger and hurt, he hadn't thought even once about how awful Remus must feel; for so many years. And not just during full moons. As far as Harry knew, nobody liked werewolves; there were even laws preventing werewolves from having jobs.

Lockhart had gone on and on about his encounter with that werewolf. The professor's lip had curled in disgust when he'd described it, emphasizing the description with a shudder. His words were as clear as if Harry was hearing them now: Werewolves are vile creatures ... less than human.

"I won't tell anyone," he finally promised quietly. "And I'm sorry, Remus."

Remus shook his head. His hands were clasped tightly together, his knuckles white. "I understand why you're upset. It's quite unsettling to hear-"

"No," Harry said, his throat clogged. "I'm sorry you've been treated so badly."

Remus' head came up slowly; his brown eyes were wide. "I..." He cleared his throat and at a snail's pace his fingers uncurled. "Thank you."

Harry bunched his shirt up, gave it a sharp tug as he said so quietly, "I know you didn't want me to know. I didn't mean to find out." He shook his head, knowing that didn't make sense but Remus smiled at him. A sad smile but at least he wasn't angry.

"I've been afraid to tell you," he murmured. Harry stared at him.

"You were? But why?"

Remus glanced at Sirius; Sirius squeezed his fingers. "I've never told anyone," Remus explained as he turned back to Harry. "Most witches and wizards don't associate with werewolves. They are either too frightened or too prejudiced."

"But... er..."

"Whatever you want to ask me, Harry," Remus said, "please do." His face was stiff again and Harry didn't want to upset him; not after what Sirius had said. He hadn't really meant to upset Remus earlier either. He felt terrible for the way he'd acted. Especially because his godfather had only been protecting Remus all along.

His eyes darted to Sirius, wanting to confirm that it was really all right. Sirius gave him a half-smile.

"It's all right." Sirius' arm wound round Remus' shoulders and Remus nodded. "I know you don't want to upset Remus," Sirius added softly, "but he truly did want you to know."

Startled by the pain in his godfather's voice, Harry struggled to remember what he'd wanted to ask. "Er... Have you... I mean, you haven't bitten anyone... have you?"

Remus' spine stiffened a little but he shook his head. "I was bitten when I was a child... by a man who had been insulted by my father."

Harry could only nod. "Erm... Were you the werewolf in the Shrieking Shack?"

"I spent full moons there during my years at Hogwarts."

Harry only asked a few more questions before Remus took over, answering questions before Harry thought to ask them.

"Does it hurt?" Harry asked after awhile, when Remus took a breath.

"It is the most painful thing I've ever experienced, though your mother assured me once that childbirth was worse."

"Mum knew?"

Remus smiled. "She guessed one day. She was relieved, I think. She had decided I was dying."

"Er... you're not, right?"

"Absolutely not."

Harry scooted to the front of his cushion. "Why did she think you were dying?" he asked, intrigued.

"Well, I was in the infirmary every month... after a full moon. And I almost always reappeared with an injury--"

"Because that was before the Wolfsbane?"

Remus nodded; he'd already explained that bit. "Lily did some research and even pestered Madame Pomfrey until Madame Pomfrey had to take points to make her stop. So, she began spying on me. She eventually pieced everything together." He smiled. "Your mother was exceptionally clever."

"But how did Sirius and my dad find out?"

Remus' gave Sirius a sideways glance. "They were just nosy."

Sirius smiled. "Concerned about our friend."

Remus snorted. "Nosy," he said firmly to Harry. "It was wonderful, though, to have someone to share my secret with. It made the full moon easier. When your mother started becoming suspicious, Sirius used to try to confuse her by telling her false symptoms that I was having."

"Did it work?"

"Not particularly. Sirius isn't a very good actor."

"Thank you very much." Sirius kissed Remus' cheek as Remus tried to cover a yawn. "Would you like some tea?"

"That would be lovely. And while he's gone," Remus said to Harry, "I'll tell you all about the time Sirius and your dad attempted to cure me of my lycanthropy."

Harry watched his godfather walk away, guilt niggling his conscience and settling into his stomach.

"They found an old book in the library," Remus said, bringing Harry's attention away from the kitchen. "With cures for every ailment." He chuckled softly even as he yawned again. "None of them worked."

--

Harry pulled the brown and gold afghan from the back of the sofa. As carefully as he could, he draped it over Remus; it was a bit tricky since he was still sitting up. But Remus didn't even stir and once he was sufficiently protected from a chill, Harry went toward the kitchen.

He almost convinced himself to just go upstairs instead. Remus had given him the book back--minus the parts that he himself had written, telling Harry he'd have to wait to read them until he was a bit older. And Harry didn't mind that; he didn't particularly want to read Remus' diary anyway.

But instead of making him happy as it had before, the book made him feel guilty.

He'd been an awful prat.

Sirius was sitting at the table, waiting for the tea kettle. He looked up. He didn't smile.

Harry shifted the book between his hands. "Remus fell asleep..."

Sirius glanced toward the parlour, his eyes crinkling a bit with fondness. "He's all right," he said. "He's always exhausted after a full moon."

"Oh."

Sirius surveyed him as he closed the tin of tea leaves. "You on your way upstairs as well?"

Harry nodded. "I just..." Gathering his courage, he put the book in the middle of the table, close to Sirius. Sirius blinked. "Remus gave it to me. He said I could keep it."

Sirius pursed his lips as he looked down at the book and then back again at Harry. He slid the book back across the table. "Of course you should keep it."

Tears tickled Harry's throat as he brought the book to his chest. He nodded his thanks. Sirius smiled a little as he pushed himself up. "Go on to bed; it's late."

But Harry couldn't. "Sirius?"

Sirius paused on his way back to the tea kettle. Harry didn't know what he wanted to say, except to ask his godfather not to be mad at him. But of course he couldn't ask that. So he shook his head. He turned away, the book all but attached to his shirt.

"Harry."

Harry pivoted instantly. Sirius had turned the flame off; his arms were crossed loosely over his chest.

"Thank you," he said, and Harry wasn't certain he'd heard correctly. "You made Remus very happy." Sirius smiled again, this time with all his usual warmth. "You're a good kid."

It wasn't the first time Sirius had said so, but all the same, Harry felt warm all over.

"And no matter what you do," Sirius went on, dropping his head a bit to capture Harry's gaze, "or how angry I am, I still love you."

Harry's throat felt too tight again. "Yeah?" He hadn't meant to say it but it was too late to call it back.

Sirius held out his arms. "Come here."

And this time, Harry went right in. Sirius' arms cinched him tight.

"Oy," he muttered into Harry's tangles, "you have no idea."

With his face smushed into his godfather's shoulder, Harry smiled, not minding at all that Sirius didn't let him go straightaway.

Sirius pressed a kiss to the top his head, his voice a bit muffled as he said, "There's something else I want to tell you." He pulled his head back so that he could see Harry's face. "Something else that you can't tell anyone."

Harry nodded solemnly, pleased that Sirius trusted him. "I won't."

Sirius smiled. "I know. When your dad and I... and Peter found out that Remus was a werewolf, we wanted to do something that would make the full moons easier for him."

"What did you do?"

An impish glint lent a sparkle to Sirius' eyes, making Harry smile. "We read that werewolves react differently to animals than they do to humans," Sirius said. "And we decided that was the only answer."

"What was--" The rest of Harry's question died on his tongue. Sirius' body was changing; stretching and contorting in directions that it shouldn't.

Harry gaped at the huge black dog standing in the spot where his godfather had just been.

Except that this dog had soft grey eyes. Harry dropped to his knees. "Sirius?" He peered into his godfather's eyes; the dog's tongue lolled out. And even though Harry knew dogs couldn't grin, this one was. The giant tongue flicked out, leaving a trail of drool along Harry's cheek.

"That tickles!"

The dog made a low sound, his body vibrating. Dogs definitely couldn't laugh! Harry laughed along with him though, unable to stop himself. He watched again, his eyes wide as the dog's fur began to ripple, and almost before he could prepare himself, Sirius was looking down at him at him again.

"Padfoot," he said, tilting his head as he grinned.

"Wicked," Harry breathed. Sirius took his hand and pulled him up.

"Your dad was a stag... Prongs," he added, making wiggling antlers with his fingers. Harry smiled slowly.

"And Moony because of the full moon?"

Sirius chuckled. "Clever lot, aren't we?"

Harry smirked but he was too excited to dwell on the rather obvious monikers. He grabbed Sirius' sleeve as he bounced eagerly on his toes. "Can you teach me how to do that?"

Sirius studied Harry thoughtfully. "I'm certain I could, but you might need to wait until you're a bit older. It takes quite a bit of magic to manage it."

"How old were you?"

"Fifteen."

Harry made a face. "That's two whole years."

Sirius chucked his chin, his lips quirked in amusement. "You'll live."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I may not."

"You'd better," Sirius retorted as he steered him toward the stairs. "It would be a bit tricky to find another godson."

Harry nudged his godfather's ribs. "Especially one as brilliant as me."

"Not a chance," Sirius agreed with a quiet chuckle.