A Life More Ordinary

Hogwarts' Corridor, 15 June 1993

"Upside down," Harry decided with a firm nod. Draco tilted his head to the left.

"Looks silly that way."

"It does not," Hermione said, setting her hands to her hips. "It's supposed to be upside down."

"How do you know?" Ron demanded.

"Because," Hermione retorted with a sharp toss of her head, "it's been that way the entire time we've been here. Probably even before that."

"Then why does it look wrong?"

"Because you haven't an eye for art."

"I have so! I like art!"

"If you two don't quit quarrelling, Peeves is going to overhear and alert Filch," Draco hissed, backing up until he bumped the stone wall. His eyes darted up and down the long corridor.

"Would you calm down?" Ron rolled his eyes. "Filch isn't going to go find your father to tell him you blew up part of the wall."

"It isn't blown up!"

"Be quiet," Harry said quickly, sensing that Draco's head was in danger of exploding. "Ron's right though."

Ron nodded, his chest puffing out a little. "Yeah. Filch isn't even clever enough to realize your father is here with the other governors."

Draco didn't look convinced.

Hermione sighed. "Why don't we just tell McGonagall? It isn't as though you meant to put a hole in the wall."

"Oh brilliant, plan, Hermione," Ron said as he leaned against the bits of charred stone which the painting didn't hide. "We'll just explain that Harry and Draco were practicing their dueling and hope she understands."

Hermione shrugged. "She will probably take points or assign a detention." As Ron opened his mouth to retort, she added, "She will assign more if she finds out some other way."

"No one is finding out," Draco said, his chin lifting in the defiant way it did when he felt insulted. "The last time I got into trouble with McGonagall, my father said it had best be the only time." His pale cheeks pinkened and he didn't elaborate further, his eyes boring into Harry as a silent reminder that the information he'd shared months ago was not to be repeated.

"You didn't do it on purpose," Hermione reminded him in her most reasonable tone.

"We aren't supposed to be casting spells in the corridors," Harry said with a small sigh. He wasn't particularly concerned about losing a few points--and even though he would prefer not to have a detention, it hardly seemed worth all this fuss just to avoid an irate Mr. Malfoy. But then, Harry very seldom worried about irate parents, especially not over such a minor infraction.

"Look," he said while Draco fiddled with the large painting--trying to find a way to cover up the gaping wound in the wall, "I'll just tell her it was me. I'll say I was mucking about with my wand."

"Harry," Hermione scolded, "it isn't right to lie--"

"Hermione," Ron moaned. "It isn't like he's going to be telling a real lie."

She crossed over her chest, but Harry intervened before she had a chance to begin a long-winded lecture on the merits of honesty. "It was my fault as well," he said. "I'll just be telling her that part--"

"But it was Draco's spell--"

"Honestly, Hermione," Harry snapped before he could stop himself, "it isn't as though I'm asking you to lie!"

Hermione's mouth closed with a muffled pop and she drew herself up. "Fine," she said in a tight voice. "Go ahead and be foolish, but don't whinge to me when you get yourself into even more trouble." And with that, she spun away and stalked down the corridor, her bushy hair flouncing indignantly against her back.

"Girls," Ron muttered once she'd rounded the far corner.

"Oh shut up," Harry grumbled. Ron's eyebrows scrunched in confusion but he made no further comment. Harry ran his fingers down his sleeve, scratching at itches that didn't exist. "I'll go find McGonagall," he finally said when he realized they were all still staring down the corridor.

He saw Ron giving Draco what might have been a significant look, but Draco didn't seem to notice. Or if he did, he paid no mind to it and fell in step beside Harry. Ron sighed and took up post along Harry's other shoulder.

"Draco!"

The three boys twisted as one entity. Theodore Nott was coming toward them. He handed a sheaf of parchments over to Draco as soon as he was close enough.

"Thanks for letting me borrow them."

"Potions notes," Draco explained to Ron and Harry as he folded the parchments over and tucked them under an arm.

"Where are you going?" Nott asked as he joined the trio.

"To find McGonagall," Ron offered. "Harry blew up a wall."

Harry rolled his eyes, which Ron answered with a shrug.

"Just trying to help..."

Nott's black eyebrows peaked. "Why did you blow up a wall?"

"Just seemed the thing to do," Harry muttered.

"So why are you telling McGonagall then? She'll take points, not that I mind Gryffindor losing a few." He nudged Draco's ribs. "Why are you letting Potter turn himself in? Aren't you supposed to be his mate or something?"

"He isn't letting me," Harry cut in before Draco could answer. "And I'm telling her," he said pointedly, "so that no one else will get in trouble."

Nott stared at Harry through quizzical eyes. "You are a right strange one, Potter," he finally declared. "Hey Draco, I didn't know your father was here," he said, as his gaze shifted.

Harry's stomach swooped as soon as he followed Nott's eyes. Because not only was Mr. Malfoy standing near the enchanted staircase, but so was Sirius. And McGonagall.

"Still want to confess, Potter?" Nott asked, breathing out a soft chuckle. "That is your dad, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry said on a sigh. Draco shifted his eyes sideways, but he didn't suggest that Harry not take the blame for the large, slightly-smoking hole in the wall down the corridor. And, in fact, his silvery eyes were a bit larger--more desperate than usual.

Harry had no time to consider how much that irritated him though; Sirius looked up then. His solemn expression melted away--just around the eyes and he waggled his dark eyebrows. Harry smiled, and had to nibble the corner of his lip to keep from laughing.

Not there was any rule against laughing in the corridors at least.

Closing the distance between himself and Sirius, Harry decided it would probably be better to let Filch discover the crumbling section of castle wall--he could take the blame then just as well. Or perhaps he'd tell McGonagall after dinner.

Lying to her was one thing. Lying to Sirius was something else altogether. Not that he'd be lying to Sirius, really. And it wasn't even a lie. He scowled to himself. It was just like Hermione to leave her words to rap against his brain. When she wasn't even there!

Bloody irritating, that.

"Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall greeted with a warm smile when she noticed the four boys, "I was just telling your father how well you performed on your last Transfiguration exam."

A pleased flush immediately coloured Draco's face. His father's smile was so tiny that Harry wouldn't have even known it was meant to express his approval if Draco hadn't made himself a little taller just then.

"Between the two of you," McGonagall added with a nod for Harry, "and Miss Granger, I am never disappointed."

Harry caught Sirius' pleased grin, which sent its own prickles across Harry's cheeks. "Neither are we," his godfather said and Harry ducked his head. Definitely, he was going to have to wait to tell his Head of House about the wall.

"You are doing fine work in my class as well," she said to Ron, who was looking a bit crestfallen. "I told your mother as much not five minutes ago."

Ron grinned, seeming not to notice her praise hadn't been quite as fawning. But at least he'd got some; Nott didn't look like he was waiting for any.

"Harry has something to tell you, Professor," he said, a smirk distorting his lips. "He could hardly wait to find you."

McGonagall's eyebrows went up. "Oh?"

"Erm..." Harry very carefully didn't look at his godfather; wished he didn't have to look at Draco either, who had gone rigid beside him. Or Nott, who was a stupid prat.

Harry wiped his hands along his trousers' seat and nodded. "Yeah. I was coming to find you because... I was... practicing a few spells with my wand... erm, in the corridor and I know we're not supposed to," he added hastily, fairly tripping over the words.

"But well... the wall sort of exploded a bit." He grimaced at the end, and tried to sort out his shoulders which had a very bad habit of tumbling into his neck when he was nervous. Technically, he hadn't lied. "I'm sorry."

McGonagall's eyebrows rose higher, though honestly, it shouldn't have been possible, with the way they were practically sitting above her hair already. "Exploded?" she echoed, and Harry was surprised that she wasn't speaking in that sharp voice she sometimes used when she was really angry--like that time Draco had broken Justin's nose and Harry had been sent home to detail his own crimes.

Harry licked his lips. "There's a hole..."

McGonagall sighed, the sound gusty but still not particularly angry. "Very well, Mr. Potter," she said. "I will tend to it." Her eyes sharpened and Harry braced himself; he could feel Sirius' eyes on him. "This is precisely why students are restricted from using their wands in the corridor, young man."

Harry nodded quickly. "Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry."

McGonagall pursed her lips. "Ten points for disobeying a very clear rule, Mr. Potter." Harry felt his face getting hot, but he nodded stoically. She smiled then and Harry forgot to be embarrassed as she added, "And fifteen for your honesty."

Harry's face felt like it was on fire then, especially when he saw Ron's cheeks puff out as he fought with laughter. Harry decided then that it would be very nice to punch his best mate in the jaw. Or at least shove him into the lake.

"You're awarding him points?" Nott sputtered indignantly.

"Honesty is to be commended, Mr. Nott," McGonagall said, failing to look anything but cheerful. "I will see all of you at dinner... oh, except you, Draco. Your father has plans for you."

"Minerva," Sirius halted her exit with his soft voice. "I'd like to take Harry for a few hours as well." Harry couldn't decide if his godfather wanted to scold him for blowing up the corridor, but Sirius' wink in the next second silenced that thought. "I'll return him before curfew."

"Certainly, Sirius. Good evening." With that, McGonagall went off down the corridor, toward the hole in the wall.

Draco craned his neck to look up at his father. Mr. Malfoy smiled that tiny smile again and settled a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Your mother is shopping in Hogsmeade. I thought you might like to join us."

"Yes sir," Draco said, nodding eagerly, with a grin that looked like it might crack his face, and Harry was glad he'd told the not-quite lie.

Mr. Malfoy turned to Nott, "Theodore, would you care to accompany us?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Excellent," Mr. Malfoy approved. "We will find Aurora and inform her that you are coming along." Mr. Malfoy gestured the way to the dungeons and Sinistra's office.

"He might have at least thanked you," Ron mumbled under his breath. Harry elbowed him sharply in the ribs. "Ow! Bloody hell, Harry... er, sorry, Sirius," he said quickly. Sirius looked like he was trying not to smile, but otherwise made no comment on Ron's cursing.

"Oy, you two!" Dean's voice called from farther up the stairs.

"Coming to dinner?" Fred called from behind him.

"Hi Sirius!"

Sirius greeted the small contingent of Gryffindors tramping down the stairs, including Hermione who said a perfectly pleasant hello to Sirius and then stomped away without even a glance for Harry.

"What did you do to Hermione?" George asked curiously.

Sirius was frowning again, deeper with confusion, a questioning look for Harry. Harry willed his face--and his neck while he was at it--to keep its embarrassment to itself and shook his head. "Nothing."

Ginny, coming up from behind with a group of first years, gave him a squinty look as she passed.

"She stormed into the common room five minutes ago," Lee piped up, "stuffed about a zillion books into her bag and stormed out again."

"Yeah, we figured it was Ron who'd got her knickers in a twist."

"Nope," Ron said cheerfully. "See you later, Harry!"

Harry adjusted his pack over his shoulders as he watched his chattering friends lope down the same corridor where McGonagall had just gone.

"Here," Sirius said, reaching over to relieve Harry of his backpack. He tapped it once with his wand and it shrunk.

"Thanks..." Harry stuck the miniaturized backpack into his pocket. "You know loads of silent magic," he said thoughtfully as they went out the front doors and down the wide steps.

Smiling down at him, Sirius said, "You'll be able to do just as many nonverbal spells someday; probably more."

"Yeah?" Harry asked, but really he didn't think so. Sirius was brilliant at magic.

"I think your dad performed more silent spells than not," Sirius told him. "Your mum as well." He chuckled. "They spent most of their seventh year trying to outdo one another, I think."

Harry smiled, as he always did when Sirius spoke about his mum or dad. Even lately, when the cozy feeling was accompanied by something else; Harry wasn't really certain what to name it. But it crept up on him now and it had, ever since Remus had scolded him for saying that Dad would have told him about Remus being a werewolf, when Sirius hadn't.

It was a mixed up kind of feeling--something about having four parents did that to a person, Harry guessed.

And of course he knew that he shouldn't have said that to Sirius. And not only because he had no idea what his dad would have done. Mostly, it had just been an awful thing to say.

He'd tried to explain that to Remus. He'd also wanted to tell Remus that he had already sworn to himself that he would never say anything like it again. But Remus had a way of not really listening. Not like Sirius, who always did.

And he knew Sirius understood how sorry he was.

Sirius always understood.

Harry realized they'd stopped walking. He stared at the arms of the Whomping Willow as they slashed the air and then he squinted up at his godfather. "What are we doing here?"

Sirius grinned as he stooped down and plucked a stick from the ground. "I want to show you something."

Intrigued by the mysterious tone, Harry watched intently as his godfather waved his free hand and the stick hovered in the air for a second and then with a further prompting from Sirius' fingers, it floated toward the Willow. Dodging between the striking branches, the stick wound its way toward the trunk and poked a large knot.

The branches fell silent.

"Wicked!"

Sirius chuckled. "It is, isn't it? Come on," he said and slipped in between the lower branches. Harry followed after, watching with a smile creeping over his lips as Sirius grasped two close branches and hoisted himself up. He offered Harry a hand up as soon as he was perched.

"Is this the tree that you and Dad used to climb?" Harry asked as he circled a hand around a slender branch and levered himself up the trunk so that he was a bit higher than Sirius.

"Remus as well," Sirius answered with a nod.

"Is Remus already at the cottage?" Harry thought to ask; it was a full moon tonight.

"Yep. I'm going there myself later." Sirius squinted against the sun as he craned his neck to study Harry. "Brilliant view, isn't it?"

Harry let his arms dangle over an adjacent branch as he gazed out over Hogwarts' grounds. He could even see Hagrid's hut from here. And the lake. "Yeah..."

"Professor Dumbledore planted this for Remus."

Harry brought his eyes back to his godfather.

Sirius' eyes smiled. "Another secret." He gestured to the roots. "A tunnel leads to the Shrieking Shack. The branches were meant to keep curious students away."

"Is that how you went there... when you were in your Animagus forms?"

"Yes indeed," Sirius answered as he shifted to find a better grip on the branch. "It was foolish of us, I realize now."

"How do you mean?"

Sirius locked his arms at the elbow so that he was steady before answering, "Wandering about during a full moon... with a werewolf. If something had happened, no one would have known how to find us."

Harry swung himself forward slightly and plopped onto a lower branch so that he was closer to eye level with his godfather. He smiled slightly as Sirius relaxed out of his sudden tension, brought on by Harry's abrupt movements.

"But Remus..." Harry wasn't certain what he wanted to say, but he must have looked very confused because Sirius reached out a hand to grip his knee gently.

"We did it for Remus," he reassured. "It wasn't something we did simply in fun--not like the pranks we used to concoct. Remus needed us, and I don't regret it." Sirius smiled, obviously sensing Harry's persisting confusion. "Sometimes you make choices that are both right and wrong."

Harry chewed on the inside of his lip as he thought that over. Sort of like his not-exactly-a-lie to McGonagall. And even though he was thinking about that, he said, "I'll bet Dumbledore knew."

Sirius tilted his head. "Why do you say that?"

Harry shrugged. "Dumbledore knows everything that happens before the other teachers do... it's like he's really three people or something."

Sirius studied him for a long minute. "Well," he finally said, "I did always wonder if he knew. Because you are right... he does seem to know more than most."

Harry thought about that as he and Sirius sat together, enfolded in the temperamental arms of the Whomping Willow. Sirius smiled at him, squeezed his knee and let his gaze wander over the sloping grounds.

And even though Sirius wasn't even looking at him, Harry could feel warmth creeping into his cheeks. "I didn't put the hole in the wall."

When Sirius turned his head, his grey eyes were attentive. "Draco?"

Harry wrinkled his nose as the sun peeked through the leaves and momentarily blinded him. He could tell by Sirius' tone, that his godfather had already known. Relieved, Harry nodded. He twisted out of the sun's reach, answering, "He thought his father would be angry if he got in trouble with McGonagall again."

"I suspect Professor McGonagall would have done the same for Draco as she did for you," Sirius said. "She's rather fond of her Gryffindors," he added with a smile full of memories.

Thinking of the five points he'd unfairly earned, Harry admitted, "Draco was trying out a spell on me when the wall exploded, so it was sort of my fault." He watched his godfather's expression carefully, and ventured, "You're not angry, are you?"

"I'm not," Sirius assured him with a smile. "Don't make a habit of firing off spells in the corridors, though. Wouldn't want you or your friends to be hurt."

"I won't."

"Good," Sirius said, accepting the promise. He nudged the side of Harry's chin with his knuckles. "And I'm proud of you for wanting to protect Draco."

"You are?"

Sirius nodded. "I am."

"Hermione didn't think I ought to..."

"Ah." Lips undecided between frown and grin, Sirius tilted his head. "Hermione thinks with her head, rather than her heart. And in most cases, she would probably be right, but in this one, I do understand why you didn't tell McGonagall all the details."

"I shouldn't have got those five points though..."

"You've a good heart, kid," Sirius said quietly, as he settled palms on his thighs. "You were worried for your friend, which is something I love about you." New warmth bloomed on Harry's cheeks. "But I don't want you to feel as though you have to take responsibility for your friends' actions," Sirius went on, "especially if it might hurt you at the end."

Unsure what Sirius meant, Harry asked, "If McGonagall had docked more points?"

But Sirius shook his head. "Do you remember when Ollivander told you that you can't always help, even when you want to? Because you might make the situation worse or harm yourself?"

Harry nodded; he was never going to forget that.

"This is another way that you try to help people." Sirius leaned forward, solemn now. "And you won't always be able to. I am very happy that you care so much about others, but don't forget how important you are." He poked a gentle finger into Harry's ribs for emphasis.

The words made Harry's insides warm, no matter that they also confused him.

"You hungry?" Sirius asked in the next second. "Of course you are," he answered himself with a smirk. "When are you not?"

"Yesterday, nine o'clock," Harry retorted. "We were skinning eels for a potion. I didn't even eat lunch."

Sirius made a face. "No wonder you're so hungry."

"What are we eating?" Harry asked as he flopped to a lower branch.

"I brought a picnic. I thought we'd sit by the lake."

"Cool! What did you bring?"

"Oh, you know," Sirius said with an airy wave, "the usual. Frog innards and some of that lovely eel skin."

Harry stuck his tongue out. "You did not."

"Might have," Sirius said mischievously. Harry smiled, unable to help it when Sirius grinned like that.

"I'm glad you're my dad," he said suddenly. Sirius' eyes sparkled and his grin widened.

"Me too."

Harry smiled and slid off the branch, landing on the soft grass with a gentle plop. Sirius landed beside him. He mussed Harry's tangles into greater disarray and slid an arm over his shoulders.

They walked in easy quiet down the hill toward the lake.

"Do you think Hermione will be angry for long?" Harry asked as they crested the last knoll and could see rippling water.

Sirius gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze. "I shouldn't think so. You didn't cost Gryffindor points, after all."

"Yeah..." Harry squinted against the orangey sun. "I was a bit rude to her, I guess. She just kept on about Draco telling the truth," he quickly defended himself but Sirius' placid gaze didn't falter.

"Well," he said thoughtfully, "if you apologize, I'm sure she'll forgive you."

Harry hoped Sirius was right.

But Hermione was nowhere in sight when Sirius returned him to the portrait with a full belly. "Night Sirius!" he said as gave his godfather a quick squeeze around the middle. But before he could leap through the hole, Sirius grabbed a handul of robe and tugged him back. "Oomph... Yeah?"

Smiling down at him, Sirius planted a hand on the top of his head. "I think Remus might like to talk to you tomorrow afternoon, if you have a few spare minutes between classes."

Harry nodded obediently. "OK."

With one last rumple for Harry's hair, Sirius said, "Off with you now, before Professor McGonagall tries to give me detention for keeping you out past curfew."

Harry laughed, and with a wave, he ducked into the common room.

"Look out!" Lavender protested as he skirted around the table she and Parvati were working at. A large blot of ink was spreading over her parchment.

"Sorry!" Without pausing, he waved his holly and chanted a quick "Evanesco," and continued on his way toward the fireplace where Neville and Ron were playing chess.

"Good job you're back," Ron muttered. "Neville's even worse than you."

"Don't be a prat," Harry said as he dropped into the only free chair.

"You can play a round with Harry if you want," Neville offered, but Harry shook his head, and gave Ron a pointed glare.

"Just ignore him," he advised his nervous blond friend. "He's a git."

"You're a git," Ron retorted, though his focus was on the move that Neville had just made. "Oy..."

Harry snorted. "Worse than me, eh?"

"Oh shut up."

Harry shared a grin with Neville, who took the game in another two moves. Ron flopped against the cushions in front of the fire, groaning, "Bloody hell."

The portrait swung open and Draco stepped through. He came over to them, pausing to glance at Ron before he sat on the couch. "Finally killed Ron, did you?"

"You wish," Ron said lazily. "Did you bring us anything from Honeydukes?"

"Mother insisted," Draco answered with a smile very like his father's. Ron bolted upright, grinning hugely as Draco deposited a large box on the table and began handing sweets around to everyone in the common room.

"Here," he said to Harry once everyone else was happily munching. "Know you like these."

Harry caught the almond toffee with a grin as it was tossed through the air. Draco smiled as well and the two of them settled in to watch the rematch between Neville and a very determined Ron.

oOoOo

"Because you're lazy," Harry explained patiently to Ron the next morning, after the ginger-haired boy had demanded to know why Harry wouldn't quit poking him. "And if you don't get up, you'll be late to Defense."

"I'll just ask Lockhart how I can make my hair as shiny as his, and he won't care," Ron mumbled as he rolled over and smashed his face into the pillow.

"You'll miss breakfast," Draco called from in front of the mirror where he was combing his hair. "The elves always make sticky buns on Wednesdays."

Ron sat up, a bright grin on your face. "I knew you were useful for something, Draco," he said cheerfully and gathered up his uniform. He clapped Seamus on the back on his way into the loo with a boisterous, "Sticky Buns!"

Seamus gazed after him, finally shaking his head when Draco and Harry burst into laughter.

The four of them, with Neville trailing behind, trying to scribble the last of his essay for Defense, met Dean in the Great Hall for breakfast. Hermione was there as well, her attention on a tattered book as she ate toast and jam with the hand that wasn't turning pages.

"You should have finished that last evening," she said to Neville without even looking up. "Lockhart will be able to tell you hurried through it."

"He won't care," Dean said as Neville stared forlornly at his parchment, his quill limp in his hand now.

"Yeah, just add a sentence about how much you love his hair," Ron chortled and then shoved a sticky bun in his mouth.

Frowning, Hermione glanced up from her book. "That isn't funny."

"It's a little funny," Draco said as he chose a bun for himself from the platter. "Lockhart's a dimwit."

"If you say that just a bit louder," Hermione said icily, "maybe you will have your detention after all."

"Oh, leave off, Hermione," Ron scoffed. "McGonagall didn't even care about the wall." He licked a line of icing off his first finger. "Why are you so angry anyway? Harry earned five points."

Hermione didn't answer. "I'm going to class," she said pointedly. And with that, she swept her book up and left the table.

"She's awfully sore over a little lie," Neville said in between nibbles on his bun.

"She's sore at Harry." Ron gulped his milk and shot Harry a lopsided smile. "He shouted at her."

"I did not."

"Did so. You told her to mind her own business."

Harry didn't correct him. Maybe he hadn't used those exact words, but close enough.

Neville was frowning in obvious disapproval and Harry sighed. Seamus and Dean didn't seem to find any problem with the exchange and even Draco had no support. Probably because all of them had told her the same thing at some point or another.

"First class in five minutes," Percy reminded them importantly as he strutted past. All of them pulled out innocent faces as a sticky bun bounced off his head.

oOoOo

"I'll be up in a minute," Harry said as his friends scraped their books off their usual library table and tossed them into backpacks. He jiggled his mirror. "Sirius asked me to."

"Ask him if he knows how to spell a quill to write an essay by itself," Seamus said, adding one final book to his heavy pile. "I'll never finish this Potions essay."

Draco closed his backpack with a quiet schlip. "You have two days."

"Only two!"

"Term's only two more days," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "Sixteen inches by Thursday."

"Sixteen!"

"Mr. Finnegan," Madame Pince scolded in her perpetual whisper, somehow popping up out of nowhere, "this is a library."

"Er, sorry," he said, jumping a bit as she made a shooing motion with her hand.

"See you at lunch, Harry," Ron said, sotto voce, as he and the other boys scrambled away. Pince eyed Harry disapprovingly but since she couldn't accuse him of being a nuisance, sitting by himself in a far corner of the library, she slipped back amongst her stacks.

Wanting to be safe from Pince, Harry waited for a few minutes. He added a few more lines to his Potions essay, before righting his mirror and calling quietly for Sirius.

He frowned when there was no answering disorientation across the mirror's face.

"Sirius," he repeated, a little louder. His own reflection stayed firmly fixed in front of him. He stared at his scrunched eyebrows and tried to figure out if it could be broken.

"Sirius," he said again. Nothing.

Harry squinted up at the clock along the far wall. Remus would have been fully human for six hours. Though he supposed Remus could be sleeping--maybe Sirius as well. Sirius had said to contact them in the afternoon. And it wasn't quite lunch.

Sighing, Harry slung his book bag over his shoulder and gathered his parchment and books, along with the mirror. He was halfway through the library when the mirror slid off his Potions text. "Shit," he muttered under his breath and nearly dropped the books as he bent to retrieve it. He teetered, but before he could fall, a familiar hand grabbed his wrist, steadying him.

"Sorry," he breathed, not really knowing why that particular word emerged but Hermione didn't even seem to notice. She released his wrist and bent quickly to pluck the mirror from the floor. "Thanks..."

She tilted her head as she studied him. "Are you all right?"

Scrubbing a hand along his cheeks, now prickling with unwelcome warmth, he nodded.

She glanced down at the mirror as Harry shoved it into a pocket. "Were you talking to Sirius?" She didn't need to add, 'in the library?' for Harry to hear it in her tone.

"Yeah," he said, sorting his books so they'd make a neater stack. "Well, I was trying to," he amended. "He didn't answer."

Hermione's eyebrows peaked. "Did you check to see if it's broken?"

"Don't really know how to tell..."

A slow sparkle lit Hermione's eyes then, but she didn't ask to see it.

Harry shifted awkwardly and finally asked, "Do you want to try?"

Hermione was nodding eagerly before he even finished the question. He smiled and dropped the mirror into her waiting hands.

She traced the mirror's edge with her wand. "Rimore!" They waited, but the mirror did nothing but glow a faint blue.

"What was it supposed to do?"

Hermione looked up. "That means it isn't broken." Her nose wrinkled in thought. "At least I think it does."

Harry smiled despite his frustration. "Detection spell?"

Hermione brightened. "I found it in an old text. It searches an object for broken magic--magic that isn't working as it should."

"Yeah?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"I have the book here," she said, her voice full of excitement. He reached out to take her bag, holding it while she flipped through the books inside. "Thanks. Here it is!"

She set it on a nearby table and they leaned over the text together when she found the right page. "Looks like you cast the spell correctly," Harry said. "Look at this spell, Hermione. It lets you see inside an object."

"It's like an x-ray machine. Muggle way to look inside things," she explained for him.

"Brill!"

"My parents have one. For teeth. Maybe Sirius could bring you to see it over the summer."

Harry grinned.

She smiled.

He handed her the book so she could put it away. "What happened to your finger?" he asked, catching sight of the makeshift bandage wrapped around the first digit.

"Oh, just caught it in my trunk this morning." She held it up for his inspection. "My healing spells aren't quite proficient enough..."

"Why didn't you ask Pomfrey to mend it?" he asked as they walked out of the library and down the corridor toward the Great Hall.

"I went to the infirmary this morning, but she was just leaving... some sort of emergency. She was in a real state--frantic with worry about something. She told me to ask McGonagall."

"Wonder what the emergency was."

"I don't know," Hermione said with a little shrug. "Dumbledore was with her and they were both acting strangely."

"Well," Harry said, putting that aside, "we have Transfiguration after lunch so you can ask McGonagall then."

She nodded; glanced sideways at him. "Are you going to try your mirror again?"

"After lunch."

oOoOo

The mirror stayed silent.

"It's awfully strange, isn't?" Hermione asked as she attempted to turn her book into a jumper. Harry took a half-hearted go at his own book, his thoughts not on the lesson.

"Sirius usually keeps his mirror with him, doesn't he?" Draco added; he sighed when his book didn't as much as twitch.

Harry nodded, trying to ignore the flicker of unease in his gut.

"He probably went somewhere and left it at home," Neville said. He was having no luck with his assignment either. Harry didn't answer as the unease grew. Sirius wouldn't have gone out though; not today, after a full moon when Remus would be recovering.

Seamus grunted in annoyance as he swished his wand. "This is too hard," he complained.

"You might have more luck," McGonagall admonished as she came to stand by Harry's desk, "if you concentrated on your work, instead of your conversation. All of you."

Heads nodded, except Hermione who glanced at the professor and said to Harry, "Maybe you could ask Professor McGonagall for permission to use the Floo."

McGonagall peered down her nose at Harry. "Why do you need to use the Floo?"

"Er, I don't really," he said. The professor narrowed her eyes and Harry scratched his nails against his scalp as he considered. "Well, it's just that Sirius wanted me to contact him today, but he isn't answering when I use my mirror."

McGonagall stood a little straighter. "I am certain he is perfectly well, Mr. Potter." In a rare display, she patted his shoulder. "No need to fret."

"But may he use the Floo?" Hermione pressed as she turned away. McGonagall pivoted.

"No, he may not." She sighed as Harry and his friends started at the rebuke. "You only have twenty minutes to transfigure your books," she reminded them, in a softer tone. "Please return to your work. And no more conversation."

Harry stared after McGonagall. He ignored Ron's prodding finger against his shoulder.

Why had McGonagall said no? He'd never been denied access to a Floo.

"Harry, she's looking at you," Ron hissed.

Harry focused, and found his Head of House gazing at him. She waved her fingers toward the silent book on the table in front of him and Harry turned back to concentrating on his assignment. At least he hoped she would think he was concentrating.

Instead, Sirius' words were floating through his brain. Sirius had said that Remus wanted to speak to him after the full moon. So why weren't either of them answering his summons?

Words about right and wrong jostled for space as well. Sirius' words as he'd explained that sometimes choices could be both right and wrong.

It was definitely wrong to use a school Floo without permission.

But he probably wouldn't be able to use it anyway. He'd have to sneak into a professor's office for that. Maybe Dumbledore...

But Hermione had said that Dumbledore left with Pomfrey this morning, and he hadn't been at lunch.

Harry's fingers strayed to the hidden pendant against his chest, his fingers tracing the outline through his shirt. Of course, he wasn't supposed to use it except in an emergency.

And this wasn't.

Except that something was clearly off here. Sirius never ignored a summons through the mirror. Not even the few times when Harry had called in the dead of the night.

His eyes darted to McGonagall again; she was busy showing Hannah Abbot how to hold her wand.

Why doesn't she want me to go home?

He could come up with nothing. And the pendant around his neck grew heavier as class wore on. It would work in the castle--Dumbledore had helped Sirius charm it so that it would, even though Portkeys didn't usually work on the grounds.

McGonagall couldn't forbid him from using his Portkey. It was his own personal property, after all. And he'd only be gone long enough to make certain Sirius and Remus were all right...

Harry excused himself from his friends' company as soon as McGonagall dismissed them, offering little by way of explanation except to gesture to his mirror. He ignored Hermione's sharpened gaze and went down the corridor until he found an empty classroom.

He left his book bag on the table and tried the mirror one more time. When he got no response, he grasped the amulet and said clearly, "Portus."

The amulet warmed against his palm and before he was expecting it, the classroom dissolved around him. The world spun, faster and faster and then his arms and legs flailed as he was dropped unceremoniously on a hard surface.

He pushed himself to hands and knees, his eyes sweeping over the dark space he'd landed in. Except it wasn't a dark space at all. Murky light spilled from above. And it was crowded.

Where was Grimmauld Place?

oOoOo

Harry scrambled up and then had to dodge passersby as they bumped into him without pausing.

"Ow!" he cried as someone stomped on his foot. He jerked back as a scraggly-faced witch suddenly thrust her face close to his.

"Are you lost, boy?" she croaked. Harry stared at her, unable to speak. Her hand whipped out and latched onto his arm, not moving at all as he tried to twist away.

"Let go of me!"

The witch squinted at him. A spasm trembled his body as her long fingernails scraped along his forehead to push the fringe away. "It is," she breathed. "Harry Potter!"

"Harry Potter?" another crackly voice demanded and Harry was grabbed by another hand, spun around to face a tall wizard with black teeth. He leered down at Harry. "What have we here?"

Desperate now, Harry tried to pull away. The witch said shrilly, "I saw him first!"

There was a commotion behind them and a flash of wood in front of Harry's face. The point of a wand gouged the wizard's long neck.

"Let him go," a soft voice growled. Sudden relief made Harry's muscles limp.

The wizard's dark eyes widened. "S--Sirius Black..." He stepped away before he'd even finished speaking.

Sirius strong arm cinched Harry's chest, and in one swift movement, Harry was against his godfather. Sirius' wand hadn't moved. "Get out of our way," he said quietly. The stilled crowd parted. Sirius drew Harry close to his side, leaving the crowd quickly behind. After a several shop fronts passed by in a blur, Sirius ducked under a low awning and shoved a door open to the sounds of a cat hissing.

"Sirius?"

Harry tried to look around, but Sirius didn't move his arm, where it was held like a manacle around Harry's chest. "Needed an escape," Sirius answered the query.

"Take your time," the man grunted. "That your son?"

"Yes," Sirius answered impatiently and then he'd turned Harry to face him. He gripped Harry's upper arms as he bent at the waist to peer into Harry's eyes. "What happened?" he demanded; his face was stark white, except that half of it was covered in a purple bruise; Harry sucked in a breath.

"What happened?" Sirius demanded, his voice going up a frantic octave. "Are you all right?"

Harry nodded; the grip on his arms was uncomfortable; it didn't help that Sirius' fingers were trembling.

"How did you get here?"

"My Portkey," Harry whispered.

"What happened?" Sirius asked again, in a voice high with fear this time.

"N-nothing," Harry stammered, feeling incredibly stupid now as he stared up at Sirius. At his haggard expression, the dilated pupils. Sirius' brow was dotted with perspiration. "You didn't answer when I used the mirror."

Sirius stared at him, his lips half-parted with confusion, or surprise, Harry wasn't certain. His mouth closed and opened twice before he found his voice. "You used the Portkey because I didn't answer your summons?"

Harry nodded, knowing he should explain that it had been more than that. About McGonagall and an odd feeling. And Dumbledore and Pomfrey being gone. Except all of that sounded idiotic now. He was about to apologize, but Sirius wrapped him in a fierce hug before he could.

"You frightened me out of ten years of my life," he murmured; still shaky. Harry listened to Sirius' heart pumping blood at twice its normal speed, and guilt quickly took over. "Did they hurt you?" Sirius demanded suddenly. He pushed Harry away, his grey eyes sweeping over every centimeter even when Harry shook his head. "You're certain?"

"Yeah."

Sirius hugged him again, this time crushing Harry's face into his shirt. He was about to protest that he couldn't breathe when Sirius muttered against the top of his head, "You are in loads of trouble, Harry James."

Harry's face instantly lit on fire and he no longer cared about breathing. Sirius loosened his grip though, but now Harry didn't want to have to turn around, knowing that where ever they were, a strange man was there. Overhearing everything.

Sirius turned him around anyway. The man didn't even appear to notice them. He was in a far corner of the dim room, scribbling something onto a parchment. Sirius kept a hand on Harry's shoulder as he cleared his throat. The man turned around.

"Carad, this is Harry. Harry, an old friend of Remus', Caradoc Dearborn."

Caradoc nodded, but he extended no hand in greeting. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance," he said in a gruff voice. Harry took an involuntary step backward into Sirius when the man stepped out of the shadowed corner. His face was a patchwork of scars, three of them traveling down his neck like twisted vines. His left eye was half-closed, the eyelid sutured together by a thick rope of scar tissue.

"How do, sir," Harry managed weakly.

Sirius' other hand came to rest on Harry's free shoulder. "Would you mind if I sent my Patronus out, Carad? And then we'll be on our way."

"As you please."

Sirius bent down again, his breath tickling Harry's cheek as he whispered, "I assume that you didn't tell anyone you were leaving the castle?" He sighed when Harry shook his head. A moment later, Harry watched the great silver dog erupt from Sirius' wand. It darted through the bare back wall.

"Thanks Carad."

The humourless man nodded. "You'll send word of Remus?"

"As soon as I'm able," Sirius said quietly. "Come on, Harry."

Caradoc grunted once more and returned to his dark corner.

Sirius smoothed Harry's fringe over his scar. "Stay close," he murmured; his fingers curled in a decisive grip around Harry's wrist as they went out the hissing door. He held his wand at the ready once more.

"Sirius?" Harry finally dared to whisper once they had walked past several grimy shops--and one crazed-eyed witch holding a tray of fingers. Where are we?"

"Knockturn Alley," Sirius answered in the same low tone. "Don't worry," he said in the same breath, "you'll be safe."

Harry wasn't worried though; not with Sirius beside him.

"Why did that man ask you to send word of Remus?"

"Hush now," Sirius said instead of answering. They had stopped in front of another dingy shop. "I can't answer all of your questions just yet," he said as he put a hand on the knob, "but Remus was injured and I need--"

The door in front of them swung open then. A tall man in never-ending black stared down at him. His eyes, as dark as his robes, flicked to Sirius and then back again to Harry. "You have your mother's eyes."

The words were an accusation and Harry was tongue-tied. The dark man stepped back, pulling the door open wide as he moved.

"Quickly," he ordered and Harry was pulled along with Sirius over the threshold. Sirius didn't loosen his grip once the door was locked with a spell.

"I apologize for the--"

The man in black cut Sirius off with a sharp wave of his hand. He held out two vials. "I will deliver the new potion to the headmaster when it is completed. Along with an explanation for the failure of the first; if there is one. You should not have come."

Sirius didn't answer straightaway. But when he did, his voice was scratchy. "I needed to. Remus is--"

"Knockturn Alley is not safe for him," the man interrupted, with another flick of eyes toward Harry.

Sirius swallowed. "I know..." His knuckles were turning white from his grip on the vials. "I wanted to thank you--"

"Do not." The other man's voice was cold; flat. Sirius gazed at him, his lips pinched in their most worried line. "My shop is often watched," the dark man went on in that same methodical voice. "There is a Floo in the back."

He pivoted before Sirius could answer. After a moment, Sirius followed, with Harry alongside.

The hand on Harry's shoulder tightened when they reached the Floo. "This is Severus Snape," he said, not looking at Harry.

Harry blinked up at the stranger. The stranger who had been friends with his mother.

"You were friends with my mum?"

Snape's lips clamped together. He gave a sharp nod.

"And you found Pettigrew for us," Harry said, eagerness radiating through him.

Snape's lips were quickly turning white. He thrust a cracked pot at Sirius. Some of the glittering powder seeped through Sirius' fingers as he took a handful. He ran the back of the clenched hand along his upper lip, caught the line of moisture and left grains of powder near his nose. "Thank you," he said against the damp skin.

The other man said nothing. An odd sort of sigh escaped Sirius. He nudged Harry into the Floo. Snape had already turned away. In a crackly voice, Sirius called out, "Number Twelve Grimmauld Place!" and they were whirled away.

Dumbledore was waiting in their parlour. He gave Harry only the barest of glances. His gaze zeroed in on the vials in Sirius' hand. He waved his fingers; they wiggled out of Sirius' grip and whizzed out of the kitchen.

"Is he awake?" Sirius asked.

"No."

Sirius closed his eyes and with a brief nod, murmured, "Snape says he will contact you when the new potion is ready. I need to speak with Harry."

"I will rejoin Poppy," Dumbledore said quietly. Harry watched him go, understanding finally filling in the gaps in his brain.

"Remus was hurt in his werewolf form?"

Sirius didn't answer. He bowed his head, the weight of his laced fingers making his neck droop further. "Yes." He let his hands fall, looking up when Harry didn't say anything. "The Wolfsbane wasn't as effective as it should have been."

Remembering that Remus could hurt himself when he hadn't had the Wolfsbane, Harry's stomach curled. "Is he..."

"Madame Pomfrey is taking care of him. He'll be well in a few days. You can't see him just now," he said, answering the question before Harry asked. Harry knew it must have been because they didn't want him to see any of Remus' injuries--especially if they were awful enough to leave scars like the ones Remus already had on his face.

Sirius sat heavily on the sofa. He hung his head into his hands, balancing arms on his knees. Uncertain, Harry stayed near the stairs. After a few minutes, Sirius straightened with another deep sigh and let his back fall against the cushions.

"Come here," he said tiredly. Harry hesitated for only a second before settling in beside his godfather. Sirius captured his head and tilted his face up. "Now," he said in that same weary voice, "explain to me what was going on in that head of yours."

Out of all the things that Harry wanted to talk about, leaving Hogwarts didn't even make the list.

"I don't know," he said with shrug, knowing that Sirius wouldn't accept that and hoping for a miracle anyway.

His luck diminished swiftly when Sirius pulled a disbelieving face. "You don't know why you used your Portkey?"

Harry didn't know how to answer without sounded like a baby. "You didn't answer when I used the mirror."

Sirius sighed again and released Harry. "I'm sorry about that. I left it at the cottage." He closed his eyes as he let his head fall against the back of the sofa. Harry twisted so that he could properly see his godfather's face. It looked dreadful --that purple bruise was actually angry black. And it stretched down his stubbled chin.

Sirius cracked an eye, took in Harry's intent gaze and smiled a little. "It looks worse than it feels."

"Looks awful..."

Sirius squeezed the back of his neck, and then nudged Harry toward him. Harry let himself relax into Sirius' side, both of them propping their feet onto the low table--something Remus never liked them to do.

"What happened?" Harry finally asked.

Again that half-smile. "Nothing terribly exciting, I'm afraid. Bit clumsy is all."

Sirius didn't seem angry, Harry decided as he chanced another glance up at his godfather's face. He had closed his eyes again and Harry wondered if he'd fallen asleep. But his breathing was too uneven. Maybe Sirius was waiting for him to speak first.

If he was, Harry was staying well clear of the bottom of his list.

Taking a breath, he dove in. "That was Snape?"

Sirius' eyes opened. His eyes shifted and he nodded when he found Harry's gaze. "Severus Snape," he recited slowly. "He is trying to find out why the Wolfsbane didn't work."

"I don't think he liked me."

"He doesn't like me," Sirius corrected. "Has nothing whatsoever to do with you. And Snape isn't the most effusive man."

"What does that mean?"

"Reserved," Sirius answered. "Doesn't show his emotions easily."

"Oh." More like Remus then. Harry fiddled with the edge of his school robes as he thought about that. "Why wouldn't he let you thank him?"

Sirius' fingers combed absently through Harry's hair. "I don't know."

Harry considered all the questions he wanted to ask; knew there was even more than he could think of. He didn't want to ask about Remus' injuries. Mostly because Remus had explained what had happened to him before the Wolfsbane. And he'd seen the look on Sirius' face when the headmaster had said that Remus wasn't awake.

"Are you certain Remus will be all right?"

"He's banged up a bit," Sirius assured him quietly. "He'll be just fine."

Harry accepted it because Sirius said it was so. He looked down when Sirius weighed the amulet on two fingers.

"May I?" Sirius asked.

Harry leaned forward a bit so that Sirius could lift the chain over his head.

"It was supposed to bring you to Grimmauld Place..." Sirius turned the amulet over and over in his fingers. "Do you have any idea how frightened I was when I heard your voice in Knockturn Alley?" He looked up, clearly waiting for an answer.

"I didn't know it would take me there," Harry said, hoping that might alleviate at least some of the sternness in the grey eyes.

"You aren't supposed to use this--" He gave the Portkey a pointed shake. "--unless there is an emergency."

The sofa was beginning to feel rather hard; Harry shifted. "I know--"

"I know you know," Sirius said, weariness laced through his tone. "If you were worried, why didn't you simply use the Floo?"

"McGonagall said I couldn't."

Sirius frowned, but his eyes softened. "She shouldn't have," he said. "You can always come home, kiddo, you know that."

"Well, she said I couldn't," Harry said sullenly.

Sirius sighed. "I think she misread the situation. But even so," he added with a leveled gaze, "you shouldn't have left Hogwarts."

Harry flicked his thumbnails together and didn't answer. He wanted to ask how much trouble he was in. Sirius had said loads. Trouble was, Harry didn't know how much loads might be.

Sirius was resetting the Portkey though, his brows furrowed in concentration. He handed it back to Harry after it shimmered, indicating it was ready.

"Go into the kitchen and activate it," Sirius said as Harry slipped it over his head. "I'll go to the library."

"It's supposed to take me in here though," Harry said as his godfather stood.

"I know," Sirius said. He tapped Harry's thigh with the back of his hand. "Do as you're told please."

Harry tried not to frown as he obeyed. Sirius' tone wasn't promising.

Once he reckoned that Sirius had had enough time to walk into the library, Harry touched the amulet for the second time that day and chanted the spell. The sensations were the same--the disorientation as well. Except this time, when Harry looked up after being dumped on the floor, Sirius was standing above him. He offered Harry a hand and hoisted him up.

"It didn't work," Harry said, giving his bum a quick rub.

Sirius examined the amulet between two fingers. "I think the magic is bringing you to me. Don't know why though." A heavy breath escaped between his lips as the amulet settled back against Harry's shirt. Sirius drew a weary hand over his face, smoothing the lines of stress for a second. "We'll need to fix that when you return home. But for now," he said, dropping his hand as well as his voice, "do not use it unless you are in danger. Understood?"

Unsuccessfully ignoring the swoop in the pit of his stomach, Harry nodded quickly.

Sirius accepted that with a nod of his own. After resetting the Portkey for a second time, he said, "The headmaster should take you back to school. If he told Professor McGonagall that you left, she's probably waiting with a detention."

"But--" Harry didn't know what he meant to say.

Sirius slid his hands into his pockets; raised his eyebrows in question. "But what?"

Harry dug a toe under the corner of the rug, watching as the fringe fanned across his shiny shoe. "You said she should have let me come home."

"And I said you shouldn't have left Hogwarts."

Harry's eyes darted up; Sirius was frowning, his entire expression more exhausted than irritated. Harry pressed a little. "It's like the wall though, isn't it? And sneaking out to meet Remus..." He trailed off. Sirius' eyes were wide with incredulity.

"It isn't the same at all," he said, standing straighter but still slouching. "And I didn't tell you those things so that you would think you are allowed to ignore your professors."

Harry ducked his head when Sirius' gaze began to burn through him.

"You didn't care that I lied," he couldn't help muttering.

"What was that?"

Harry's stomach shriveled. He probably could have helped it. If he'd tried a little harder.

Very quietly, so that the words nearly melted into the walls, Sirius asked, "Would you like me to add that to the list of things you're about to be punished for?"

Harry's head jerked up. "What list? I only used my Portkey!"

"Fine," Sirius conceded with a sharp nod. "Would you like me to add that to the one thing you're about to be punished for?"

"No," Harry mumbled.

Sirius gripped the top of one of the desk chair, leaning heavily on it. "There are times when you have to make choices about right and wrong, but you need to use your head. There were other things you could have done before Portkeying off to only God knows where--"

"I thought it was just going to bring me here!"

"Don't shout at me," Sirius said, not quite snapping the admonishment. He rested a hip against the desk, looking for all the world like he was going to topple over without it. "Even if you had arrived here, you didn't need to use it. You could have asked McGonagall to use the Floo herself. I would have told her to send you through."

"But she might have said no."

"She might have," Sirius said tiredly. "And then you would simply have had to wait."

"But you just said--"

"I know what I said, Harry."

Harry stuffed his hands into his back pockets, frowning as he lapsed into silence, but Sirius didn't even seem to notice he'd snapped. There was a soft knock against the wooden doorframe.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I don't mean to interrupt..."

Sirius waved off the apology. "You aren't."

Dumbledore glanced between them. "Poppy wishes to speak with you."

Sirius nodded. "Would you escort Harry back to Hogwarts?"

"Yes indeed," Dumbledore said, with a smile for Harry. "I do believe your Head of House is expecting you shortly."

Harry's cheeks burned at the news.

"If you would excuse us for a moment, Albus?" Sirius said, scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck; the palm glistened when he pulled it away.

"Certainly," Dumbledore murmured. "I will be in the kitchen, Harry."

Harry didn't answer.

Sirius stepped in front of him. Harry had to crane his neck to see his godfather's face.

"Go on with Dumbledore," Sirius said, quiet now; even. "Term is over in two days; we'll finish this then."

Finish it?

He'd used a Portkey, not blown up the school or anything just as awful. Sirius hadn't even been angry when he'd blown up a wall! Even if it had really been Draco...

"It wasn't my fault the Portkey took me to Knockturn Alley." He knew it wasn't the brightest thing to say, but his confusion was rapidly spiraling into resentment. It wasn't fair!

But Sirius didn't even retort. "I need to go upstairs," he said. "Go with Dumbledore."

"But--"

Sirius took his arm and turned him toward the door. "Go," he repeated, and emphasized the soft order with a swat to the seat of Harry's trousers--this one sharp enough to startle him.

Sirius had already released him. Harry glanced back at him, over his shoulder, his eyes suddenly burning. But Sirius wasn't even looking at him. He was massaging his forehead, his head bowed to the floor.

It hadn't hurt, he told himself firmly as he walked quickly to the kitchen. And he even managed to blink the sting from his eyes.

"Ready, my boy?"

Dumbledore was smiling at him, the family pot of Floo powder already extended.

Harry nodded mutely and took the powder. Dumbledore stepped in after him. Harry flung it sharply into the grate. "Hogwarts!" he called out, and then realized he had no idea where it might deposit him.

To Dumbledore's office, he found out a moment later. Where a very grim-faced McGonagall was waiting.

"Mr. Potter," she said tersely, "welcome back. Mr. Filch has set aside an entire lavatory for you. And he does not like to be kept waiting."

Harry hung his head, and followed after his Head of House.

oOoOo

Sirius climbed the stairs slowly, hoping time might slow. Or stop completely.

But of course it didn't. And Poppy was waiting for him at the top of the stairs.

"He's awake," she said in a low tone as soon as he reached the landing.

Sirius couldn't tell if it was relief or fear which made his heart skip a beat.

"Sirius..." Poppy caught his arm gently as he stepped around her. "He's very upset..."

Fear. It was fear making his heart pound erratically. "I know," he told her; he couldn't help the way his voice shook.

"It might be best to wait..." She hesitated and Sirius turned fully to face her. She made a fluttery gesture toward his face. "Until the bruise is less... noticeable."

"The salve didn't work," Sirius reminded her.

"It is a very deep bruise," she said; apologetically.

Sirius nodded because he didn't trust himself to speak. He squeezed her hand, and unwilling to wait for another protest, he went to his husband.

Remus didn't turn his head when the door opened. He was staring at the ceiling.

Angry red slashes decorated every expanse of skin not covered by blanket.

Fresh wounds, closed only hours ago by Poppy's and Albus' frantic hands. There had been too many for Poppy to do alone.

Too much blood to slow.

Afraid to jostle Remus, Sirius knelt beside the bed. "Hi," he whispered. He tried to think of something witty to say, but memories of Remus' blood pooling around his limp body were too sharp in his mind. "You're awake..."

Remus turned his head. His eyes focused slowly, but as soon as they did, his lips parted on a strangled gasp.

Sirius' hand immediately went to his husband's chest, his fingers barely brushing the blanket. "Shh, it's all right--"

"Dear God," Remus breathed, eyes only for the bruise on Sirius' face.

"It doesn't hurt," Sirius tried to soothe him.

"Sirius..." Tears glazed Remus' eyes. "I'm so sorry..." The words themselves were inaudible, only formed as Remus struggled not to cry.

"No," Sirius whispered, leaning in as close as he dared, afraid to touch the battered skin. "It wasn't your fault."

"Your face... I did that... God, Sirius..."

Sirius pressed his lips to Remus' shaggy hair. "No, don't do this," he breathed, his own voice cracking with tears he refused to give in to. "It was the wolf... It wasn't you. You're going to be all right, Remus, do you hear me?"

Remus didn't answer. His chest rose and fell, so unevenly, it shattered the rest of Sirius' forced calm. "Moony?"

A shudder ran the length of Remus' body. Sirius stumbled as he stood. He yanked the door open, gesturing wordlessly for Poppy to enter. Her face echoing Sirius' anxiety, she rushed in.

"Breathe," she commanded her patient briskly while Sirius wrapped his arms around himself and tried to be still. "Remus, you must calm yourself. Your wounds cannot withstand further stress."

Remus clamped his lips together, his fingers and arms straining as he tried to obey.

"Slowly," Poppy said in that same soothing tone. "In and out... in... out... slowly now..."

The rise and fall of Remus' chest met the rhythm of her directions... the slow, methodical cadences.

"Good," she whispered as he continued to calm. "Your body is healing on its own," she went on quietly. "Severus gave me a few potions, specially designed to aid your own healing powers. You'll be out of bed and walking tomorrow," she told him with a smile. "You are doing quite well."

The words--optimistic though they were didn't lighten the expression on Remus' face.

"Sleep will heal you even faster," she said briskly. "I will give you a potion to make you drowsy. Natural sleep will be more productive."

Poppy lifted his head gently and tipped a potion at his lips.

"There now," she murmured. "Don't fight it," she instructed and then stepped away from the bed, taking Sirius' arm. "Now that he's stable, I will move him to Hogwarts," she said so that Remus would not overhear. "I will want to monitor him through the night."

Sirius nodded, though his eyes were on Remus, watching as his husband slowly succumbed to sleep.

"You will speak with him again in the morning," Poppy said quietly. "When he is feeling stronger, he will be more reasonable."

Sirius didn't answer. Because he knew very well that Remus wasn't going to be reasonable.

His fingers grazed the bruised skin along his cheek as memories overwhelmed him.

The feral light in the wolf's eyes--Remus' eyes--as he charged at Sirius. The crack of bones as Remus' wolf body struck Padfoot's, sending the great black dog flying across the room and into the stone fireplace.

And Sirius' whimper, loud in his ears as pain lashed through his snout and radiated over his skull.

The deeper pain as Sirius had watched the monster drain from Remus' eyes. His futile attempts to stand as the wolf howled in despair and sunk his claws into his own chest.

And Sirius hadn't been able to do anything but watch in horror, through cloudy eyes, as his husband tore himself to shreds. And he'd watched until everything faded to black.

oOoOo

"How are you, my boy?"

Sirius looked up, his hand stilling its caress through Remus' hair. Albus smiled at him as he stopped at the foot of the infirmary's metal bed frame.

"Poppy reports that Remus is doing well," Albus added.

"His wounds are healing," Sirius agreed.

"He will forgive himself," Albus said softly.

Sirius said nothing; the sudden swelling in his throat wouldn't allow him to. Albus pressed no further, simply standing with him in the silent infirmary. Until Sirius found his voice. "Did Minerva assign a detention?"

"With Mr. Filch," Albus said, an amused glint breaking through the solemn eyes. Sirius winced at the news. "He is cleaning the fourth floor boy's. And he is nearly finished, I do believe."

Sirius nodded, having already decided that he needed to speak to his godson before Harry arrived at King's Cross the day after tomorrow. He'd only realized after Remus was settled in the infirmary that he'd sent Harry off in the middle of a quarrel.

To Filch, no less.

"I will stay with Remus, if you wish," Albus broke the quite once more. Sirius gave him a faint smile.

"Thank you..."

Albus patted his hand as he took Sirius place. "It is no trouble at all."

Slowly, Sirius pulled his hand away from Remus' hair , his eyes tracing over the scars as they traveled over his husband's face and down his neck.

He blinked several times and turned away.

He found Harry a few minutes later, sitting on the stone floor in the loo with his back against the wall. A scrub brush was dangling from a hand, between his outstretched legs. Sirius' heart constricted as he gazed at his forlorn kid.

"You look like you could use a break."

Harry's head came up, eyes surprised behind his spectacles. "What are you doing here?"

Sirius grimaced, had to shift it quickly into a smile. He hadn't expected a warm welcome, after all. "Madame Pomfrey decided to bring Remus to the infirmary," he said as he crossed the space between them, "so that she could monitor him during the night." He lowered himself beside Harry, echoing his stretched legs and slight slouch.

Harry twisted to look at him. "But I thought you said he was getting better."

"He is," Sirius assured him. "Madame Pomfrey likes to be thorough. And he'll be able to sleep without any fuss."

Harry swatted at the scrub bush. "Oh."

Sirius glanced around the lav, at all the shiny surfaces. "Spotless," he noted with a smile. "Filch will be pleased."

Harry shrugged, obviously in no mood for Sirius' humour. Sirius rested a hand on Harry's knee, letting his fingers curl around the cap. "I shouldn't have sent you back to Hogwarts so abruptly," he said quietly. Harry squinted up at him, trying to read things he couldn't possibly understand. "I was worried about Remus... and distracted." Before Harry could decide whether or not to respond, Sirius palmed his head, leaning over to drop a quick kiss amongst the tangles. "I'm sorry," he murmured before releasing him.

Harry ducked his head, but not before Sirius noted the small smile. The tension melted from Harry's spine, and in the next moment he was slouching again, his shoulder propped against Sirius'. Several minutes went by, the two of them simply sitting with the quiet, Harry occasionally tossing the scrub brush between his hands.

"Am I still in trouble?" he asked eventually.

Sirius glanced down at him.

"You said loads," Harry reminded him quietly.

Sirius half-smiled. "Did I say that?"

Harry nodded as he drew his knees up.

"I'll admit I wouldn't have been half so upset had you landed in our parlour," Sirius said as he copied his godson's posture once more. "And loads might have been a bit of an exaggeration."

Harry shoved his fringe out of his eyes. "Yeah?"

Sirius tilted his head back as he studied his godson. Having not considered a punishment at all, he said the first thing that came to mind. "Three days," he said, nodding in emphasis. "No broom."

"Three?"

"Three."

Harry sighed, but he nodded, even if it was reluctantly. Sirius squeezed his shoulder lightly and pushed himself up. "Come on," he said. "It's nearly dinner." He offered Harry a hand.

"When can I see Remus?" Harry asked as he let Sirius pull him up.

"Tomorrow; after lunch."

"Last day tomorrow. I have an exam in Potions."

"You'll ace it."

Again, the small smile. "Hope so."

oOoOo

Sirius stayed in the infirmary for the rest of the day, only leaving when Pomfrey insisted he do so.

"I will take very good care of him," she told him quietly as he stared down at his sleeping husband.

"I know," Sirius said with a sigh.

"He is healing very well," Poppy assured him when he didn't move. ""These are not the worst injuries he's ever had."

Sirius looked up sharply, his insides twisting painfully at her blunt words. Her face was gentle though, as was her hand as she squeezed his fingers.

"He will be out of bed in the morning," she assured him. "Severus' potions were very effective. Go home," she said firmly. "Sleep."

But sleep didn't come easily. He drifted, waking up several times from the depths of the same nightmare.

He finally gave up when dawn broke. He stumbled downstairs after a quick shower. His shirt was open at the neck, his clothes full of wrinkles, and he hadn't shaved in two days. But he was more or less clean and that was as much as one could hope for--

Sirius halted as soon as he stepped into the parlour. Remus was speaking with Poppy in low tones near the front door; he was wearing his traveling cloak and he was leaning on the cane he sometimes used after a difficult full moon.

"Remus?"

Remus' spine stiffened. He didn't turn around.

Sirius made no sound as he traversed the distance between them. "You left the infirmary?" he asked in confusion, though the news cheered him since it meant Remus had been feeling well enough to travel through the Floo.

Poppy was a holding a large case filled with vials. Sirius had never seen such a severe frown on the healer's face. Not even after he and James had melted three of the bones in Peter's legs during an experiment gone horribly wrong.

"I will wait on the stoop," she said in a clipped tone. She slipped through the door, closing it behind her. She took her vials with her.

"Remus?"

He turned slowly; his face was held stiffly, his brown eyes dull. But that didn't stop the grimace that pulled at his muscles when he was greeted with the bruise. "It looks worse," he croaked. He brought a hand up, but he clenched the fingers into a fist before he made contact. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "You have no idea how sorry..."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Sirius said softly. "It wasn't your fault."

"I could have killed you."

"You didn't." It didn't matter that it wasn't so simple. Sirius wasn't going to let Remus hate himself for this. "I'm all right," he said as he stepped forward and brushed a thumb down his husband's cheek.

Remus closed his eyes, but he'd pulled away before Sirius could feel relieved. Remus gripped his cane and opened his eyes. His jaw flexed. "I'm leaving," he said flatly.

Sirius knew he hadn't heard that right. "Leaving?" The echo was faint to his own ears.

"I'm sorry," Remus said again, this time his voice breaking. "But I can't stay here and continue to pretend that I am not a monster--"

Anger surged up without Sirius' permission at the old refrain. "You are not a monster!"

"Look at your face. I did that to you."

"You didn't know what you were doing. You were a werewolf--"

"I know what I am!" Remus said, hoarse now. "I could have killed you!"

"No--"

"Yes," Remus said with sudden calm. "You're lucky I didn't break your neck. I'm not going to allow anything like that to happen again, Sirius. I can't."

Sirius stepped forward, but Remus only stepped back. "Fine," Sirius said, knowing how desperate he sounded and not caring. "I won't spend full moons with you, if that's--"

"No," Remus said in a soft whisper, full of finality. "I have to leave."

"And what about Harry?" Sirius demanded, his voice suddenly harsh as his lungs stopped working. "You were just going to leave without even saying goodbye?"

Remus turned away. "I'm sorry if it will hurt him--"

"If?" Sirius gaped at his husband's back. "He'll be devastated!"

Remus' shoulders curled around his ears, but he was already reaching for the door. "I'm sorry," he whispered again. "You know that I love you both--"

"No," Sirius said hoarsely, something breaking then as he realized that Remus wasn't going to listen to reason. "No," he repeated, "don't you dare say that. If you can walk out that door..." He couldn't finish.

Remus' cane thunked against the door as he struggled to open it. "I'm sorry," he gasped and then he was gone. The door clicked softly behind him.

Sirius stared at the blurred wood, refusing to believe that Remus was gone.

He wouldn't leave. He couldn't.

Because Sirius couldn't live without him.

But the door didn't open again.

And without knowing how he got there, Sirius was slumped in a chair, his fingers numb, his mind empty.

The room didn't stir until the Floo roared and soft footsteps padded toward him.

"Sirius," Poppy said gently but he shook his head; shook off her arm.

"Where did he go?" Tears stung his sinuses.

"Caradoc's shop," she said after a pause. "In Knockturn Alley. I don't know if he means to stay there though. I'm very sorry, Sirius."

Sirius didn't answer.

"Let me make you tea," she said quietly.

She touched his arm, but he drew it away, curling his hands into his lap. "Harry," he said, his voice scraping over the syllables. "Harry wanted to see Remus... after his first class."

"The elves are serving breakfast," Poppy said after a quick glance at her pocket watch. "I will fetch him--"

Sirius pressed his palms together and wondered what it would be like to walk into an empty bedroom. "He has an exam."

Poppy vacillated, and finally sighed. She took a roll of parchment from her pocket. "Remus wanted me to give this to you when you arrived this morning."

Sirius stared at the offensive scroll.

He had known that Remus had meant to leave without telling him. But this... To leave him only a piece of parchment to explain the gaping hole in his chest.

He didn't take it from her hand; he could barely see through the new haze of anger. And after a moment, she set it on the low table.

"Rest," she ordered in her soft, brisk voice.

Sirius made no acknowledgement that she had spoken. He listened to her Floo away a moment later.

When Sirius finally moved, he went into Remus' library.

The room was dark.

Silent.

Every single one of Remus' manuscripts was gone.

Sirius was alone.

It hurt to stand here, in Remus' library, the naked desk taunting him.

And the stairs as well, where he and Remus had walked so many times, often with Harry pounding up in front of them--or between them.

A sob caught in Sirius' throat as he stepped into their bedroom. And as he brushed his fingers lightly over Remus' pillow, he couldn't hold the tears back any longer. He sank onto the soft mattress and gathered the pillow to him, breathing in the scent of the man he'd loved for two decades.

oOoOo

Sirius was newly shaven and in a fresh shirt when he stepped into the infirmary hours later. He nodded in response to Poppy's smile before she slipped into her office and closed the door. Sirius ignored the empty bed where Remus had slept last night and perched on the one closest to the door to wait.

Harry came in soon after, his robes slung haphazardly over his book bag. "Potions was a breeze," he said cheerfully. His grin faltered slowly when Sirius lifted his head.

Sirius tried to speak, to say something to ease the anxious frown now marring his kid's face.

Harry's eyes darted around the empty infirmary. "Where's Remus?"

And even though he'd rehearsed this for hours now, Sirius had no idea how to explain. How do you tell a kid that one of his parents has abandoned him?

He chose the truth. Or the closest he could come to it, without explaining that Remus had thrown him into a wall. "The Wolfsbane usually tames the werewolf, and it can be... aggressive without it." Sirius paused to force his voice calm. "Even with the Wolfsbane next time," he explained quietly, "he is worried something might happen and he--" His throat burned as he swallowed. "--went away for awhile."

"But when he is coming back?"

Sirius shook his head.

Harry stared at him and Sirius watched him struggle to understand. "Why is he worried something might happen? To you, do you mean?"

Sirius couldn't do this without incriminating Remus. But he couldn't lie to Harry. "To me," he answered softly. "Or to you."

Harry was staring at the dark bruise obscuring Sirius' face. His voice wobbled as he said, "He's not coming back, is he?"

"I don't know," Sirius whispered. And his heart tore in two as Harry's face crumpled. "I'm sorry," he breathed as he pulled Harry in. Harry buried his face into Sirius' chest.

"It's going to be all right," Sirius promised as his voice broke. He wove his fingers through Harry's hair, knowing he was trying to convince himself more than Harry.

oOoOo

Harry stepped onto the platform as the scarlet train whistled to a stop.

"See ya, Harry!" Ron shouted as he dashed into the crowd after his brothers.

"I'll let you know when we're going to the dragon reserve this summer," Draco said as his father and mother approached with Dobby. "Maybe your parents will let you come."

"Yeah maybe," Harry answered with a little nod and as much of a smile as he could manage.

"Are you certain you're not feeling ill, Harry?" Hermione asked when Draco had disappeared. She'd asked the same question at least a dozen times since Sirius had left him with his friends in the Great Hall yesterday. "Sirius or Remus should really perform a diagnostic."

"I'll ask Sirius," Harry assured her. She smiled and then waved excitedly as her parents emerged from the crowd.

"Write to me," she said before she too was gone.

"Sorry!" a fifth-year apologised as he stumbled into Harry. Harry heaved a breath full of too much tension as he righted himself and made his way through the throng of witches and wizards, his eyes scanning.

Sirius was waiting for him. And even though he'd known that Remus wouldn't be beside him, it made Harry's stomach tingle anyway.

Sirius smiled as soon as he saw Harry. "Hey there, kid."

Harry ignored the tickle in his throat; he'd never seen Sirius look so sad. No matter that his smile told a different story altogether. Before Sirius could move forward, Harry threw his arms around his godfather, startling Sirius into a brief chuckle.

"One of these days, you're going to knock me flat."

Harry smiled into his godfather's shoulder as Sirius squeezed. "You fed me too many vegetables."

Sirius mussed his hair as Harry stepped back. "How about an ice cream sundae to even things out then?"

"From Fortescue's?"

"Where else?" Sirius checked his watch. "Would you like to visit Ollivander first? Or we could stop in at the Quidditch shop. You have a birthday coming up. I know you've been eying the new Firebolt. Or there's always Gambol and Japes. That might be fun."

"Ollivander's," Harry decided.

"We can do everything else as well. We have plenty of time..." Sirius cleared his throat of the warble and looped an arm round Harry's shoulder. "Come on," he said, his voice steady now as he smiled.

And with a miniature trunk stowed safely in Sirius' pocket and Hedwig hopping between them, Sirius and Harry walked through King's Cross and on into London.