Song Of Songs

by Mad Martha

Part 5

"May I say how delighted I am to see you here and a free man once more, Sirius?" Dumbledore said, regarding the two of them over the top of his half-moon spectacles as they took chairs in front of his desk, and smiling a little.

"Thank you, sir, but I don't think the rest of the populace agrees," Sirius noted wryly.

"Indeed?  Well, the newspaper coverage of your release has been a little slanted, it must be said.  The general truth of the matter is in there, but hidden under a great deal of bluster and speculation.  It will take a little time for more rational attitudes to prevail.  Tea?"

"Thank you, Headmaster," Remus said quietly.

"Not at all, my dear fellow."  Dumbledore waved his wand and a tea tray appeared.  "Yes, I'm afraid that while Cornelius Fudge is taking most of the credit for your release, Sirius, that doesn't mean he has to be entirely gracious about it."  Another flick of his wand and the teapot began to pour.  "You are not useful to him, dear boy, and unlikely to become so, so it suits him to permit others to continue to foment suspicion against you.  Against both of you, I'm afraid."

Remus's eyes, until now determinedly focussed elsewhere, suddenly flicked to his face.  "Sir?"

"I feel it best to break this news to you at once," Dumbledore said to him gravely.  "The Board of Governors convened yesterday and an overwhelming majority insisted upon your dismissal from the post of Professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"What!" Sirius snapped, sitting up straight.

Dumbledore hesitated for a second.  "It would seem that word has leaked out to some of the parents that Professor Lupin is a werewolf," he said carefully.  "As yet I am unsure precisely how this happened, as there is no evidence to suggest that any of the pupils are aware of Remus's condition.  I have my suspicions, of course, but suspicions are not fact, and in any case the name of the culprit will not change anything; the vote was taken and the motion passed.  I'm very sorry, Remus," he said to the other man, and his genuine regret was evident.

Remus shrugged, resigned.  "Not a great surprise, really, Headmaster, however disappointing.  It was always a risk.  Will I get my salary for the last couple of weeks I worked?"

"I will ensure that you do," Dumbledore said, with a certain emphasis that made it clear that someone had clearly raised this point with him already.

"Thank you."

"Not at all.  You are entitled to be paid for your work."

There were plenty of people who wouldn't agree with this statement, but that was hardly news to Dumbledore so Remus contented himself with nodding and letting the matter drop.  Dumbledore passed around the cups and followed them up with a dish of little cakes.

"About Harry, sir," Sirius said, determined not to be derailed from his primary purpose.

"Ah yes.  As today is Saturday, there should be no problem in arranging for you to see him."

"Sirius was hoping to have a word with Ron Weasley as well," Remus added.  "There's the matter of replacing his, er, pet."

"Gryffindor have Quidditch practice today," Dumbledore said calmly.  "Mr. Weasley is their reserve Keeper.  He should be free soon though."

"I've spoken to my solicitors about my legal status as Harry's guardian," Sirius said, undeterred.

"And your solicitors have spoken to me, as one of his trustees," Dumbledore said.  "I am well aware of the legal position, Sirius.  While I was not taken quite so completely into James's confidence, I was a signatory to Henry Potter's Will after Harry's birth, and according to Blight, Blunt and Skinnards James chose not to tamper with his father's arrangements."

"Then there's no problem with me taking on Harry's guardianship now I'm available."

Dumbledore regarded him with steady blue eyes for a moment.  "Am I correct in thinking that we all wish to do our very best for Harry, regardless of our personal feelings?  And that his safety must always be the paramount consideration?"

Sirius might be hot-headed, but he was far from stupid.  He detected the trap in the Headmaster's words immediately.

"You believe I'll be placing him at risk if he comes to live with me?"

Dumbledore smiled gently.  "Certainly, if you continue without anywhere permanent to live yourself."

"We're working on that," Remus put in, feeling he should say something in support of his partner.

"Of course.  But it isn't merely a case of having somewhere to live, but also of ensuring that the place itself is suitable."

Sirius eyed him warily, then sat back and sipped his tea rather deliberately; Dumbledore smiled amiably in return and helped himself to a cake.  Remus wondered if this was about to descend into the kind of Mexican standoff from their school days wherein Dumbledore would maintain a bland and kindly silence until one of them became unnerved enough to blurt out something rash and revealing.  As a teacher's disciplinary technique it couldn't be bettered, although he suspected one had to be a twinkly-eyed centenarian with a taste for boiled sweets to carry it off.

"Headmaster, perhaps it would be helpful if you could tell us what you consider to be the safest environment for Harry?" he suggested.  "We can hardly hope to provide the right home for him unless we know what's required."

Looking at Dumbledore, he had the distinct feeling that there was a great deal running through the professor's mind at that moment, although his expression remained smooth and untroubled.

"You mentioned something about benign blood magic the morning after we caught Wormtail," Sirius said, surprising Remus a little.  He hadn't remembered that himself and certainly wouldn't have expected Sirius to.  "I'm a little sceptical about the wording of that, sir.  Everything I know of blood magic - " and his lips twisted a little over the words "indicates that it's not benign at all."

"Certainly under British magical law, blood magic is almost never considered legal," Dumbledore agreed.  "Ethically ... there has been much debate over the centuries as to whether blood freely shed for the good of others should be included in the ban.  The general feeling is that while in principle it may be permissible, in practice there is entirely too much room for coercion.  This is an irrelevance in Harry's situation, however.  Lily Potter gave her life voluntarily to save her son and her sacrifice ensured that while he may call the place where her blood dwells his home, he cannot be touched by those who wish him harm."

"So in practical terms?" Remus prompted.

"In practical terms, while Harry lives under the same roof as his aunt and cousin, he is safe.  Lord Voldemort - or his followers - cannot cross Petunia Dursley's threshold or physically lay hands upon Harry.  To do so would almost certainly result in their own deaths, as Professor Quirrell discovered when he attacked Harry during his first year here at Hogwarts."

"And what happens when he's not under Petunia's roof?" Sirius asked.

"Professor Quirrell attacked him here at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said.  "And as I mentioned, the attempt was fatal.  He touched Harry and his body was ... reduced to dust is the best way to describe it, I think."

"And what would happen if the attack was made from a distance?  A Killing Curse, for example?"

"Impossible to say, Sirius, but the last person who cast the Killing Curse at Harry was Lord Voldemort and as he was, in some manner, reduced to a spirit without physical form, I would not like to hazard a great sum of money upon the probable outcome.  Would you?"

"I'm not prepared to gamble on Harry's life at all," Sirius said.  He put his teacup down and folded his hands in his lap.  Remus wondered if Dumbledore noticed that this was not as casual a gesture as Sirius would like them to think.  "As I see it, he's guaranteed safe only so long as he's inside Petunia's house or the attacker makes a direct physical assault on him.  Once he's out of the house, he's fair game for anyone reckless enough to get within hexing distance of him.  There were plenty of Death Eaters stupid enough to volunteer to die for Voldemort, after all."

"And that's supposing it's a human that goes after Harry," Remus observed, trying to keep his tone neutral and scholarly.  "Would he be vulnerable, for example, to a werewolf on a full moon?  I know better than anyone that there were werewolves on the Death Eaters' side last time.  And we already know that Harry is vulnerable to Dementors."

"I didn't try to claim that the blood protection is infallible," Dumbledore said mildly.  "I merely note that it provides considerable protection for him without the need for an unacceptable level of interference in his life."

"In fact, it would be fair to say that no provision for his safety would be perfect?" Sirius pushed.

"We live in an imperfect world," Dumbledore agreed.  "Which is not an excuse for failing to strive towards perfection, of course."

There was a pause.  Dumbledore selected another little cake and nibbled on it, quite unruffled, while Sirius thought things over.

"All right," he said finally, "here's how I see it.  For any attempt on Harry to be made, a potential attacker would have to know where he is.  How widely known is it that he lives with his aunt?"

"Not widely."  The twinkle was returning to Dumbledore's eyes as he looked at Sirius, and Remus got the impression that he was enjoying the discussion purely for its own sake - not in a malicious way, but taking pleasure from encouraging a very bright (former) pupil to exercise his intellect.  "Of those who know that he lives with his family, only a few know of the exact location.  Myself, Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall, and a few individuals at the Ministry, I believe."

"If one person at the Ministry knows, then anyone else who wants to find out shouldn't experience much difficulty in obtaining the information," Remus said, unable to help the sour note in this observation.  There was no point in also adding his personal reservations about Severus Snape, for it would only set Sirius off, but he had his suspicions about who had broadcast the information about his lycanthropy to the school governors.

"My thoughts exactly," Sirius said.

"Your lack of faith in the Ministry is understandable," Dumbledore admitted.  "Your point, gentlemen?"

"If we could make Harry's location unfindable, would that make you more comfortable with us taking him in?" Sirius asked.

"You propose to make use of an Unplottable Charm?  I'm reluctant to put a damper upon anyone's ingenuity, but the charm does not work on living entities."  Dumbledore smiled apologetically.  "I should explain that I wasted considerable effort as a young man upon attempting to modify the charm for that purpose.  The Unplottable Charm requires a stationary object - usually a house - for it to operate successfully.  Objects that can move, especially of their own free will, remove the necessary foundations for the charm's stability."

"I wasn't thinking of making Harry Unplottable - although that'd be neat if it could be done."  Sirius was momentarily diverted by the thought.  A little amused, Remus cleared his throat softly and recalled his partner's attention to the matter at hand.  "Oh!  No, I was thinking about a house.  Old Shoester was telling us about how the Ministry couldn't confiscate the Manor or the house at Grimmauld Place because my mother made them Unplottable.  If we could make a place effectively unfindable and stick up some decent wards - the possibilities are endless with wards, really - would you be happy for Harry to live with us then?"

"The dwelling is not the only consideration," Dumbledore reminded him.  "Harry will not always be inside your house."

"No, sometimes he'll be at Hogwarts."  Sirius gave him a challenging look.  "Don't take this the wrong way, Professor, but I hear he's been attacked at least twice already here at school.  There was a teacher possessed by Voldemort, a basilisk, Dementors ... and let's not forget the Weasley boy's pet rat living here quite happily since Harry started school."

"Touché!" Dumbledore said, smiling.

"And the fact is," Remus put in, "that he's a teenaged boy, when all's said and done.  You can't lock him up for his own safety, and if you try to hem him in too far he'll just rebel, which could potentially be more dangerous still."

"All excellent points," Dumbledore agreed.  "But we are still talking hypothetically, are we not?  As matters stand you have no home to offer him.  If I might venture a suggestion, Sirius, Remus, you should first find a place to live - for yourselves, if nothing else! - and then look at making it secure.  You have until the end of the summer term to convince me."

"And if we don't?"  Sirius's mild tone held a note of challenge that Remus remembered only too well from their own school days.

"This is a civilised discussion between friends, Sirius," the Headmaster reminded him gently.  "Three friends who have nothing but Harry's welfare at heart.  I refuse to believe that between us we can fail to find an acceptable solution."

For a second Remus was afraid that Sirius might not take this in the spirit it was obviously intended; his chin came up and his jaw seemed to clench pugnaciously, as though in response to a threat.  But it passed almost at once, to be replaced by the newer, worn look of a man thrown out of his own time.

"Of course," Sirius said tiredly.  "In that case ... perhaps I could see him?"

~~~

Dumbledore suggested that they meet Harry in the little garden reserved for the Headmaster's private use, and after a message had been sent to the boy they made their way down there.  They encountered only a few pupils on the way, for which Remus was grateful; Sirius was still a little jumpy around large groups of people, and even in the quiet back stairs and corridors he was rather quiet and drawn-looking as his eyes ran over the once-familiar environs of the school.

Then they emerged into the sunshine and he relaxed almost at once.  The gardens might still have that ragged and half-prepared look of any cultivated area in spring, but there was fresh air, warm sunlight and a light breeze, and Remus already knew how much better being outdoors made Sirius feel.  Harry was waiting there, looking a little uneasy, and his expression was perhaps understandably wary as he watched them approach. 

Remus deliberately held back, standing with Dumbledore at the edge of the garden as Sirius strode forward confidently to meet his godson.  He was, after all, just a teacher to Harry and explanations would have to wait for a more seasonable moment.  Not for the first time, however, he found himself surveying the boy's clothes and wondering why on earth he looked like such an ... an orphan when he wasn't in school uniform.  Everything he wore was the wrong size and worn to the weft.

But without the Slytherin uniform to distract him, Sirius was all smiles as he approached Harry.  Harry offered a cautious hand, relaxing at the lack of criticism in his godfather's greeting, and found that hand used to pull him into what was all too obviously an unfamiliar hug.  For a moment he was stiff with surprise and alarm, then he relaxed a little.

"That's one of the things that bothers me about Harry," Remus said quietly to Dumbledore.  "Perfectly normal gestures of friendship - and kindness - seem to leave him at a loss, as though he's never encountered the like before and expects it to be a cover for something less palatable.  He's so ... closed off and defensive.  How did that happen?"

There was a definite hesitation before Dumbledore replied.

"I suspect there has been reactionary and bigoted behaviour on the part of his relatives," he said, at length.  "You and Sirius are clearly familiar with Mrs. Dursley, so it will not surprise you to hear that she is ... somewhat intolerant of the wizarding world.  She has her reasons, no doubt.  But while she was induced to accept Harry into her household when the Potters died, there were incidents during his childhood - perfectly normal magical accidents common to our children - that she had no experience of coping with and which she found personally distressing.  And of course, he is a teenager now and sometimes he struggles to contain his stronger emotions.  You will perhaps recall that there was just such an incident before he returned to school this year, when an argument with his aunt's sister-in-law led to an unfortunate situation requiring the Obliviators."

Remus certainly did remember it.  The subject had come up in the staff room, much to the amusement of some of his colleagues, but he hadn't found it quite so funny given what he knew of Petunia.  Fortunately the Ministry's fright at Sirius's escape had made them more than ordinarily lenient towards Harry, or the matter could have been much more serious.

And none of this addressed his main concern.

"Has Petunia abused him?" Remus asked directly, trying hard to keep the sharp note out of his voice.  "Because if she has, we need to know."

"Physically - I think not.  She isn't wholly ignorant of magic, after all, and she must surely realise that physical abuse could prove dangerous.  Emotional abuse, however ..."  Dumbledore's voice trailed off and he sighed, shaking his head.

Marvellous, Remus thought.  His limited experience of Harry told him that there was probably a lot going on underneath the boy's closed-off wariness, but it was impossible to say how badly the abuse had affected him.  It would explain his apparent complete lack of trust in adults, though.  Remus wondered if this was something that could be reversed.

He and Sirius were currently getting along better than Remus had expected.  Admittedly Sirius seemed to be doing most of the talking (about brooms and Quidditch, to judge by the enthusiastic hand gestures), but Harry was paying attention and, interestingly, watching Sirius's face intently as he talked.  One of the things Remus had noticed about the boy when they first met was his reluctance to look people in the eye, especially adults; he had a habit of focussing on something else when he spoke, rather than make eye contact, although once they began their Patronus lessons together the direct focus had suddenly been there and almost unnerving in its intensity.

At length Sirius gestured towards him and Dumbledore, and the two of them walked over. 

Remus smiled at the boy.  "Hello, Harry."

"Hello, Professor."

"I'm afraid I'm not a professor anymore," he told him.  Harry responded well to directness, he'd learned.  "How about you call me Remus from now on?"

Harry ignored this.  "They've sacked you, haven't they?"  His eyes flicked accusingly to Dumbledore for a second and there was sharp anger in them.  "Is it because you're a werewolf?"

How to respond to that?  Better to be calm and cheerful, he thought, rather than feed the flames.

"That bit of information got around quickly!  Well, you have to admit that it's a fairly alarming prospect for people who don't know much about werewolves.  And most people don't, you know."

"It stinks," Harry said bitterly.  "You're the best Defence teacher we've ever had!"

Remus couldn't help a chuckle at this.  "Thank you - I'm conceited enough to hope that I do compare pretty well to Gilderoy Lockhart!"  He heard Dumbledore chuckle at this too.

"Who's Gilderoy Lockhart?" Sirius demanded, intrigued.

"Oh no - I've been saving that story, and a set of his books, for the right moment!  Don't spoil the surprise by telling him, Harry!"

For a moment Harry looked perplexed, then he realised that he was being invited to share a joke and his face brightened.  The rare grin made him look just like his father.

Except that James would have understood that it was a joke straight away, Remus thought, then he scolded himself for it.  He doesn't need two of you comparing him to James!

One thing Harry did share with his father was a certain tenacity; he wasn't about to be deflected from the main issue.  "What are you going to do?" he asked.  "Will it be difficult for you to get another job?"

Almost impossible.  "Don't worry about that," Remus said with another smile.  "I'm not going to starve on the streets, I promise."

"Not if I have anything to say about it!" Sirius added firmly.  He squeezed Harry's shoulder gently.  "Don't worry, I'll see him right."

Harry nodded, satisfied.  "And I can really come and live with you?" he asked Sirius directly, although Remus was amused to see that he had one eye fixed challengingly on Dumbledore as he said it.  The Headmaster only smiled.

"That's the plan," Sirius said.

Remus mentally congratulated him on his wording, which offered reassurance without absolutes.  "Of course, we don't actually have anywhere to live at the moment, but we're working on that."

Harry looked surprised.  "We?"

"Yes, I'm invited to join the household.  You don't mind, do you?"

"No - that'd be great."  He clearly meant it too, which was a pleasant surprise.

"In that case, this would seem to be a good moment to explain that I'm your other godfather."  Remus gave the boy an apologetic look.  "I suppose I should have told you when we first met on the train, but there didn't seem to be much point when the werewolf laws don't allow me to exercise any of my rights as a godparent.  It seemed like the best way I could be of use to you was as your teacher, so that's what I did.  Forgive me?"

James would have told him not to be stupid and that there was nothing to forgive.  Harry, however, gave the matter his careful consideration, which visibly disconcerted Sirius.

"Those laws need changing," he said finally, a comment which made everyone smile.

"Indeed, and we all hope they will be one day," Dumbledore said.  "Now ... Remus, it seems rude to say this so soon, but you must have things you wish to collect from your rooms before you leave.  How would it be if you do that, while Harry helps Sirius to locate Mr. Weasley?"

"I was going to suggest that myself," Remus replied.  "I need to sort out my papers  and hand over the lesson plans for the rest of the year, and I think I'd better release my Grindylow into the lake before I leave.  I'm not sure what to do about the Boggart, though - it'd be a bit unkind to leave him in my office for the next occupant to find.  Is there a suitable cupboard or wardrobe for him somewhere?"

"I believe I know just the place," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling.

~~~

"So, where do you think the best place would be to look for Ron Weasley?" Sirius asked Harry, digging his hands into his jeans pockets as they strolled along.

"Gryffindor just had Quidditch practice, so we could try the changing rooms," Harry suggested.

"Okay.  That's a nice walk around the grounds.  We could stop by Hagrid's hut as well, I need to see him."

Harry agreed to this and they set off along one of the broad gravel paths that ran around the outer walls of the castle.  For several minutes there was an uncertain silence, then the boy asked, "If you don't have anywhere to live yet, where are you staying?  Where did you live before you went to prison?"

"I had a flat in London," Sirius replied easily.  "Shared it with Moony, as a matter of fact."  The temptation was to say more on this subject, but Remus had warned him before they arrived to be careful about how he broke their relationship to the teenager.  Harry needed to be a lot more comfortable and used to them before they told him that.  "Of course, when I was sent to Azkaban the place got cleaned out and Moony had to find somewhere else.  We're staying at a holiday cottage his parents own at the moment, but we're looking for somewhere permanent."  He smiled at Harry.  "Don't worry, we'll sort something out.  Reckon your aunt'll mind you coming to live with me?"

"No," Harry said flatly.

"Oh."  Sirius was disconcerted all over again by the way Harry said this.  "Well ... that'll make things simpler.  Looks like Hagrid's in," he noted as they approached the hut.  There was smoke drifting out of the lopsided chimney, and Hagrid's enormous boarhound began to bark when he rapped on the door with his knuckles.  Then the door flew open and Hagrid's great whiskery face peered down at them, surprised.  Sirius smiled up at him ruefully.  "Hullo Hagrid!  Remember me?"

"Blimey - Sirius Black, as I live an' breathe!  An' Harry!"  Hagrid beamed.  "Come on in, then!  Plenty enough tea fer two more, I reckon.  Go on back with ye, Fang ..."

Entering the hut was a bit of a struggle, with Fang trying to make them both welcome at once, and when they were inside they discovered that they weren't Hagrid's only guests.  A lanky red-headed boy and a girl with bushy brown hair were sitting at his table, but they scrambled to their feet when they saw the new visitors.

"This makes things a bit easier," Sirius said, pleased.  "We were going to look for you next," he told Ron Weasley.

Ron looked startled at this, and he didn't seem to know what to say.  Fortunately, the girl with him wasn't at a loss for words.

"Hello, Mr. Black," she said eagerly, offering a hand to shake.  "I'm glad the Ministry discovered what really happened and set you free.  You must be really happy."

"You know what, I think I am," Sirius said cordially, shaking her hand.  He shot an enquiring look at Harry, but Harry seemed to have clammed up in the face of the other two and Ron didn't seem much better.

The girl glanced at the pair of them, looking fleetingly annoyed, then turned back to him.  "I'm Hermione Granger - I'm in Gryffindor with Ron."

"Ah!  You're Crookshanks's human, then!  He was a great help to me, you know - very intelligent cat."

"He is that," Hagrid said, bringing two immense cups of tea to the table.  "More than a bit o' kneazle in him, I reckon.  Sit down then, you two, we're all friends here."

Sirius got the impression that this was stretching the point for Ron and Harry, but there was nothing to be done about that.  He sat down at the table and the others had no choice but to follow his lead.

Sirius smiled across the table at Ron.  "The thing is, I feel a bit bad that you lost your ... pet ... over this business.  I don't suppose it - he - was good for much, but still ...  I, er, I wondered if I could replace it.  Him."  He wished he didn't keep stumbling over the rat in conversation.  It was easier not to think of it as a person, but Sirius had a suspicion that some people might find that a bit odd.

Ron looked even more startled, if such a thing was possible; his fair, freckled skin flushed pink and he shot a glance first at Hermione and then, rather more quickly, at Harry.  Harry, however, was keeping all of his attention on his tea and seemed intent on pretending he wasn't really there.

"Doesn't have to be a rat," Sirius persisted.  "Could be a cat ... owl ... toad ... or ferrets are fun ...  I don't think Professor McGonagall would appreciate a Crup much, mind you."

"I think they're against school rules," Hermione said, clearly trying to fill the gaps in the conversation.  She gave Ron a none-too-subtle nudge.  "Ron?  How about a cat?"

Ron licked his lips nervously.  "I reckon Crookshanks is enough for one house," he ventured.

Sirius grinned.

"Reckon what you really need is an owl, Ron," Hagrid said, blowing small waves over his basin of tea to cool it.  "That Errol of yer mum's is gettin' on a bit."

"And Percy doesn't allow anyone else to use Hermes," Hermione added.

Ron's face brightened, then clouded over.  "I don't know that Mum'd like it - there isn't really room for an owl cage in my room at home."

"Depends on the owl," Sirius pointed out.  "I'll see what Eeylops can do by way of a small owl.  And thank you - if W-wormtail hadn't been cosying up to you for years, we might never have caught him."  He offered his hand and Ron shook it, looking bemused.  "So - I hear you're a Keeper?  I was a Beater myself, but ..."

They didn't stay at Hagrid's for long; Sirius was keeping an eye on the time, for he and Remus planned to visit a couple of shops in Hogsmeade before they headed home, and in any case Harry seemed to have nothing to say to the others.  Sirius found this difficult to understand, for James had been outgoing and gregarious and wouldn't have allowed something like house differences to silence him.  As they were leaving the hut, however, Harry suddenly said in a constricted tone "Won't be a minute ..." and he darted back inside.

Sirius heard him say "Weasley, wait a minute," but the rest of what he said to Ron was unclear.  There was a pause, followed by voices, and suddenly Ron's voice was quite audible and angry.

"Are you taking the piss, Potter?"

"Ron!"  That was Hermione, sounding shocked. 

Harry's response was an indistinct mumble.  Then Ron again:

"You can get lost!  I didn't do it for you!"

"Here!  What's all this about?" Hagrid said sharply.  "That'll do!  Now, Harry - "

The door of the hut slammed open and Harry stormed out.  Expecting to see a face like a thundercloud, Sirius was taken aback yet again by the blank control of his expression, which was completely at odds with the rest of his body language.

"Harry?  What was that about?"

"Nothing," Harry said curtly, and he took off up the path without bothering to wait for Sirius.

~~~

"He's a teenager," Remus said, when Sirius related this incident to him.  He was feeling a little stressed as they walked to Hogsmeade, set on edge by his abrupt departure from the school and the upsetting business of having to hand over his lesson plans and pack up his things.  Harry's spats with his yearmates were insignificant by comparison to the many other concerns on his mind at that moment.  "They all argue and fall out, and if you'd spent several months teaching them you wouldn't think anything of it, I promise."

"I don't understand him, though," Sirius persisted.  "Moony, he sat there like a mute - he had nothing to say to them!"

"I'm not surprised.  He's a Slytherin and they're Gryffindors - I don't suppose Ron had much to say to him either.  Well, how chatty would you have felt, back in the day, if you were forced to take tea with Snape and Regulus?"  Sirius's stiff silence made him sigh inwardly.  "Sorry - that was a bad analogy.  But there's never been any love lost between the two houses, Padfoot, you know that.  Besides, there's probably house and family loyalty involved - Harry's housemate is young Malfoy and there's bad blood between his father and the Weasleys."

Sirius made an odd rumbling noise reminiscent of a canine growl.  "Harry?  Support the Malfoy spawn?  Like hell!"

Remus really didn't feel up to dealing with this.  "Did you sort out a replacement for Ron's rat?" he asked instead.

"An owl," Sirius said, his mind clearly still on other things.  "A small one."

"Well, that's manageable enough.  Makes a nice change from wondering what we're going to do about somewhere to live."

"Finding somewhere to live isn't the problem," Sirius said.  "It's racking up the protections enough to satisfy Dumbledore.  How good are your warding charms?"

"Pretty good - they have to be," Remus noted wryly, thinking of the various protections he'd had to employ over the years to prevent his escape on full moons.  "I've been refreshing them lately too, since the sixth and seventh years have been covering household protections in their NEWTs."

"We'll need something a bit better than that.  Have you ever done an Unplottable Charm?"  Sirius was momentarily diverted.  "Hey, what about making a person Unplottable?  That'd be a trick if we could work it out."

Remus struggled with himself for a moment.  While it was tempting to point out that if Dumbledore couldn't do it then it was unlikely they would either, he was reluctant to cut short something which was guaranteed to keep Sirius mentally occupied for a space.  Fruitless ruminations on experimental charms were better than pointless raging about school house conflicts, after all.

"It would," he agreed, as cordially as he could manage.  "Just don't forget about proper household charms while you're researching it.  Don't forget about the house, if it comes to that."

Sirius snorted.  "No fear!  I'll talk to Andromeda and see if she can recommend an agent.  Should we look for a place in a Muggle area or would you prefer to be around other magical people?  Town or country, for that matter?"

"Neither," Remus said.

"Neither?  You want to live in the suburbs, like Pe- like some of the people we went to school with?"

There it was again, that tiny hesitation over Peter's name.  Remus didn't know what to make of it, but supposed it was natural enough that Sirius might want to avoid talking about the friend who had betrayed them both.  On the other hand, what if it was the symptom of some deeper issue?

You'll drive yourself mad, and him with you, if you keep thinking like that. And you have enough problems already without looking for more.

"Actually," he said out loud, in a musing tone, "I rather had a fancy for a houseboat …"

As he'd expected, the idea delighted Sirius but for once it was he who came up with the practical objections. 

"Even if it was permanently anchored, you'd never get an Unplottable Charm to stick on water."  He considered it for a moment, as they hopped over the stile and stepped onto the main path into Hogsmeade.  "Pity.  How do you feel about a lighthouse?"

Joke or no joke - he couldn't tell from Sirius's tone - what Remus actually thought about a lighthouse was that it would provide all too many reminders of being locked up in a certain prison in the North Sea.  He wasn't about to say that, of course.

"You’d never get it connected to the Floo network.  We'd have to keep a boat to get to and from it, and I suffer from seasickness …"

Sirius blew a raspberry at him.  "And what did God create Apparition for?"

Hogsmeade was busy; Saturday had brought out all the shoppers and dawdlers.  In a way this was a good thing, for there were so many people about that nobody really paid much attention to the two of them as they made their way towards Gladrags.  They paused outside the shop for a while, studying the various robes while debating what Sirius really needed in that line.  Two customers exited the shop rather quickly, closing the door behind them with a heavy clunk, and Remus joggled Sirius's elbow gently.

"Come on, let's see what they have inside."

But when they reached the door it wouldn't open and Remus saw that the "Closed" sign had been put up.

"Bit early for them to close, isn't it?" Sirius remarked, surprised.  He looked around for the clock tower further down the high street, which was showing that it was barely past three o'clock.

Remus felt a sharp, cold sensation in his stomach, one that he was all too familiar with.  But no - that was paranoia, surely.

"Perhaps the owner has other business," he commented, and he hoped his voice didn't sound as odd as he feared.  "We'll have to come back another time, or try Madam Malkin's.  Come on, we need some groceries before we head back."

Intellectually, Remus knew that he only possessed hackles one night a month, but he didn't know what else to call the sensation that lurked at the back of his neck as they walked through the village to Pottagers The Grocers.  All he knew was that it wasn't just his imagination; once again people were watching them as they passed, and he could tell from the stiffness in Sirius's shoulders that he knew it too.  Other customers shrank back as they stepped inside the crowded little greengrocery and as they approached Albert Pottager, the owner and shopkeeper, he squared his shoulders although he couldn't - quite - meet Remus's eyes. 

Remus wasn't surprised.  It was less than a fortnight ago that he'd last been inside the shop, listening good-humouredly to the little grocer's happy chatter about his two year old grandson.  Whatever the man was about to say, there had to be some level of discomfort in it for him; Pottager wasn't the kind of man who could easily rebuff someone he'd recently gossiped with.

Which wasn't to say he wouldn't do it anyway.

"You'll have to leave," he said with a fair assumption of authority, although his voice shook and his eyes were fixed on Remus's right shoulder rather than his face.  "I don't serve your sort here."

"What sort would that be?" Sirius demanded indignantly.

"Sirius …" Remus began, but Pottager interrupted him.

"Criminals and - and animals," he said stoutly.  There was a faint gasp from one of the other customers and the bell above the door jangled discordantly as someone left in a hurry.

"Animals?"  The dangerous note in Sirius's voice was alarming, even after so many years.

"Sirius," Remus said more sharply, willing him not to say anything else.  Then he turned back to the grocer, forcing his most kindly, non-threatening expression onto facial muscles that didn't much want to cooperate.  "Mr. Pottager, you've served me before without any problem.  And you must know that Mr. Black here has been fully exonerated by the High Court.  So what's the problem?"

"We don't serve your sort in here," Pottager repeated doggedly.  He still wouldn't meet Remus's eyes, but he flinched backwards when Sirius made a sharp move.  Remus was quicker; he seized Sirius's arm in an iron grip, hauling him back.

"You heard the man - he doesn't serve your sort," a harsher male voice said from just behind them.  "Nobody in Hogsmeade serves your sort.  So get out and don't come back."

Remus looked around and his heart sank even further.  Those customers who remained were of the bulky, menacing, curse-happy sort - the kind of wizards he'd had unpleasant run-ins with more than once.  He wasn't stupid and he wasn't reckless with his own welfare, and his instincts told him that even if he and Sirius left quietly now, they would be very lucky to get out of the shop unscathed.

He could feel his wand loose and accessible in his sleeve and fortunately he wasn't carrying anything (his few meagre belongings from Hogwarts were being conveyed to the cottage by one of the house-elves, on Dumbledore's insistence).  If it did come to a fight - and he really hoped it wouldn't, as much for Sirius's sake and Pottager's business as anything else - he would at least be able to give a good accounting of himself.

It didn't come to a fight.

The bell over the door rang once more and Professor McGonagall walked in.  As he braced himself where he stood, Remus saw that just her presence was enough to defuse the situation.  Hulking grown wizards were reduced in the blink of an eye to shuffling schoolboys under her sharp glaze, and even Pottager seemed a little relieved to see her.

It was highly unlikely, of course, that she didn't guess what was going on.  Nothing had ever got past her - not Sirius's cheeky charm, James Potter's smooth talk and winsome smile, Peter's startled innocence, or Remus's quiet reluctance.  But if she knew what was really afoot, she said nothing. 

"You'll be here for your marmalade, Professor McGonagall ma'am," Pottager said, hopping to fetch it, and the other men melted away.

"Not at all, Albert.  Serve your other customers first," she replied cordially.  Remus told himself that he was imagining the stern look she gave the shopkeeper as she said it, but if he was then Pottager was sharing the delusion.

So they ended up buying their groceries there after all.

"Don't hurry away, gentlemen," Professor McGonagall added, as the two of them gathered up their parcels.  "You'll be Flooing from the Three Broomsticks, of course?  I'm meeting Professor Flitwick there for a quick nip before heading back to the school.  I'll walk with you."

Remus had been expecting to have to Apparate as soon as they got out of the shop, and not looking forward to it much, so under the circumstances he felt no shame at all in accepting her escort to the pub.  People still stared at them hostilely, but stares he could cope with and Madam Rosmerta at least showed no inclination to deny them access to her Floo.

~~~

"Nothing's changed in twelve years!  Not one fucking thing!"

"Sirius - "

"No, dammit, Moony!  What was it all for?  Tell me that!  What did we go through that fucking war for, why did so many people die and so much crap happen, if it was just so that everything could go back to the way it was before?"

"People liked it the way it was before, I suppose," Remus said tiredly.  "Some people.  Most of them, perhaps.  People don't like change much, you know, it makes them nervous."

"So you're saying it's all right for them to feel secure in their petty little bigotries?"  Sirius was as incredulous and indignant at this as he had been when Albert Pottager had called Remus an animal.

"No, I'm saying it's just how they are.  War is the worst possible time to try to steer people away from their irrational hatreds, Padfoot - insecurity makes them cling to the familiar, and fear makes them vicious.  And werewolves were on Voldemort's side, remember."