"FILTH! SCUM! HALF-BREEDS AND BLOOD-TRAITORS IN MY --"

Mrs Black's tirade ended abruptly in a red haze. The curtains flew closed and a deathly silence descended upon Grimmauld Place once more.

"Shut up," Remus said belatedly, pocketing his wand.

He looked around cautiously. Something felt off. He'd felt it as soon as he'd walked in. Yet, nothing was visibly out of place.

"Sirius?"

He looked into each room, finding them all empty.

"Sirius?" He peered up the stairwell, listening for any sound from above. "Sirius, are you up there?"

When nothing but silence answered him, he took his wand out before starting up the stairs.

It took a few minutes to make a round of all the rooms and to find them all empty.

He was back downstairs and about to go down to the lower level when he rounded a corner and nearly collided with a black-cloaked figure.

"Severus! For Merlin's sake!" He hastily put his wand away, breathing hard. "What are you doing here?"

Severus blinked, still glaring at him. "Full moon tonight, Lupin. Or did you forget?"

Remus frowned. No, he hadn't forgotten, exactly. It had just been knocked out of his head by more pressing matters. "I got an odd message from Sirius, but now I can't find him. Something feels wrong... I was about to check the kitchen."

"What was the message?"

"That's the odd thing. He said to come immediately, and I thought he looked happy, but the message was cut off abruptly. I think I heard the mirror breaking, and I'm sure what I saw was it falling to the floor."

"The two-way mirror?" Severus asked, still frowning.

"Yes. I got here as soon as I could... the floo isn't working."

Severus's hand jerked toward the pocket of his robes, and in a second he had his wand out. "You're certain nothing was disturbed upstairs?"

Remus nodded, swallowing. He took his own wand out again.

Silently, Severus led the way down the short flight of stairs to the kitchen.

"No...."

The floor was covered in broken glass and blood.

Severus held out his arm to stop Remus from going any farther. "That's not enough blood to be from anything but a minor cut."

Remus shook his head to clear it of the panic-induced fog. Severus was right. What had appeared to him to be a puddle of blood was really just a few smeared drops. A trail of them led away from where most of the broken mirror lay.

"Look here."

Remus tore his eyes away from the blood to look at what Severus was pointing to.

Severus had picked up a small bottle of clear liquid from the table. He sniffed it, then put it down, turning his attention to a heavy sheet of parchment. He prodded it with his wand, revealing that it lay on top of an official-looking envelope.

"Something from the Ministry," Remus said, frowning.

With a deft jab of his wand, Severus flipped the parchment over.

"I don't believe it!" Remus exclaimed, ignoring the hiss from Severus and grabbing up the letter.

"I don't suppose it occurred to you that it could have been a trap," Severus said with a derisive sniff. "That could have been a portkey. It could have been cursed."

Remus ignored him. "Pardoned! How did this happen?"

Severus sighed and rolled his eyes. "I suppose this is what Dumbledore was prattling on about this morning. Well, that solves the mystery of the mutt's disappearance, then."

Remus looked up from the letter. "What do you mean?"

Severus motioned toward the bottle. "Drank that and traipsed off to celebrate in some pub. I suppose he thinks no one will recognize him."

"What are you talking about?"

"That -- It's in the letter." He stepped closer to Remus and pointed at the fourth paragraph. "The term of imprisonment restored. It's a fairly standard reparation."

Remus read the part of the letter Severus indicated, but it put him no closer to understanding. He looked up questioningly.

"In layman's terms, it's a youth potion. There should have been twelve doses here, one for every year he spent in Azkaban, and a dozen more for pain and suffering." Severus's lip curled unpleasantly over the last words.

"I never heard of such a thing," Remus said, shaking his head confusedly.

"It isn't often someone's conviction is overturned, and they are still sane enough to get on with their lives."

Remus couldn't help noticing how Severus's fingers curled around the glass bottle, almost caressing it.

"But what does the potion do, exactly?"

"Just what one might assume. A single dose will restore one year to your life. One would have the option of either restoring oneself to the pre-imprisonment condition by drinking as many doses as years of imprisonment, or extending the natural lifetime by drinking a dose every year." Looking reluctant, Severus set the bottle down on the table again. "Unfortunately, the exact recipe for this potion is lost to the ages. The Ministry has the only remaining supply."

"I see," Remus said, rubbing his forehead. He thought he would take Severus's word for it for the time being. "Well, I suppose if anyone deserves it, Sirius does. I just hope he hasn't done something daft, like you suggest. It isn't safe...."

He expected some snide remark, but Severus was frowning at a crystal tumbler that was also on the table, not far from where the bottle and letter had been. It was lying on its side, quite close to the table's edge.

"What is it?"

Severus didn't answer, picking up the glass and examining it, then doing the same with the bottle. His frown deepened. "May I see the letter again?"

Remus handed it to him. He watched as Severus read it carefully.

"Neither of us read all the way through, before. There is an addendum to what appears to be a standard form letter."

"Well?" Remus asked impatiently. He was unnerved by Severus's increasingly dark expression and foreboding tone. "Is something wrong?"

"It depends," Severus said, sounding rather grim, "on how full this bottle was and what constitutes a single dose."

"Don't you know?"

"I am not intimately familiar with this potion, no. I saw no instructions in the letter, but judging from the volume of this bottle, it would not be unreasonable to assume that it is measured in drops. Yet, it cannot be a single drop, or a smaller bottle would have sufficed. If you had paid any attention in Potions, Lupin, you would know that potions ought to be stored in the smallest vessel that will hold them, to extend their shelf-life."

"Oh," Remus said, not understanding at all. "But...?"

"But -- Read it yourself. Carefully this time."

Remus took the letter back and read it quickly. "I don't see --"

"Thrice, Lupin. It's right there." Severus jabbed the letter with his finger. "Thrice the term of imprisonment."

Remus frowned. It did indeed say that. "And...?"

"Thrice twelve makes thirty-six. I would be highly surprised if this bottle still holds even a quarter of its original contents, if that is the case. We have to consider the doses due him for pain and suffering, as well."

A cold shiver ran up Remus's spine as he suddenly understood what Severus was suggesting.

"I don't need to tell you, Lupin, that thirty-six and twelve makes forty-eight, and that is more than Black had on him to begin with. It's entirely possible he drank himself to a state of earliest existence, which would be a freshly fertilized egg."

The letter dropped out of Remus's hand.

There was a long, terrible silence.

"I... refuse to believe that," Remus said finally. His voice was strangled. "I refuse. Where is that house-elf? KREACHER!"

"Does it usually come when you call it?" Severus asked when a few moments had passed and the house-elf did not appear.

"He's supposed to. Sirius told him he must. KREACHER! COME AT ONCE!"

There was a thump that had them whirling to face the cupboard in the corner, where Kreacher made his disgusting nest of moldy blankets and salvaged Black heirlooms.

"COME OUT HERE --" Remus yanked the door open, but he didn't finish his command.

For an eternity, they stood side by side in front of the narrow doorway.

When his mind began to work again, slowly recovering from the blankness that had seized it, Remus became aware of a croaky voice singing very quietly.

"Hush... hush... hush baby. Hush, hush, hush... baby...."

Kreacher was holding a moldy blanket over his lap, and in that blanket was something Remus was trying with all his willpower to refuse to believe.

He refused to believe it.

"Well," Severus said flatly, "looks like I wasn't very far off. What do you plan to do with it, Lupin?"

Remus came violently back into himself, blinking as if waking from a nightmare. Only this nightmare wasn't over yet. "Tell me there's an antidote."

Severus hesitated.

The pause was long enough that Remus rounded on him. "Tell me there's an antidote, Severus!"

"I... can't. There isn't one now, if there ever was one. We have nothing that comes close to the power of this potion, and nothing that comes close to the power it would take to reverse it."

Remus turned back to the cupboard, raking his fingers through his hair in desperation. "But what am I to do? What am I to do?"

"Hush... hush... baby...."

Severus did not reply, leaving Remus to contend with the horror of the situation alone.

After taking some gasping breaths, Remus thought he got himself more or less together. First things first. He couldn't stand there forever. "Give him here, Kreacher," he said harshly, kneeling down and curling his arms around the filthy bundle.

The house-elf looked furious, but Remus slammed the cupboard door shut before he could launch into a tirade of muttered insults.

Remus's knees felt weak. He made it to the table and sank down in a chair, staring straight ahead. He couldn't bring himself to look down at what he held in his arms.

Severus came over, but still did not speak. He picked up the bottle, examining it in the light again, shaking it to set the liquid whirling around the rounded bottom.

"What are you doing?" Remus asked dully, finding he didn't possess the energy to particularly care what happened to the rest of the potion.

Severus paused with the stopper in one hand and the bottle in the other. "Black won't be needing this. It's an opportunity." He poured out enough potion to fill the hollow end of the glass stopper. "It doesn't surprise me he drank nearly the entirety of it, not thinking of the benefit it might have for someone in your condition."

Remus stared at him. "Are you -- Are you suggesting I drink that? You're out of your head if you think I will."

Severus stared calmly back at him, one eyebrow raised slightly. He brought the stopper to his lips and drank.

The effect was neither immediate nor particularly impressive, but at the end of a period of three or four minutes there was no denying the change.

"Well?"

Remus shrugged. "Took off a few years, I reckon."

Severus tipped the stopper over his mouth, emptying it. He bent down to pick up one of the larger shards of mirror and examined himself dispassionately. "Yes, I believe you're right."

He put the mirror down on the table and refilled the stopper. He held it out to Remus.

"I don't..." Remus hesitated. It was true that three decades worth of monthly transformations, along with the pain and the poverty they brought along with them, had had a profound effect on him. Now that he had seen the potion in action, and no disaster had befallen Severus, he was not so quick to refuse.

Severus ignored his indecision, bringing the glass stopper up to his lips and waiting impatiently.

"Oh, all right."

The potion was cold, like ice water. It was tasteless, but left a frigid trail from his lips to his stomach.

"Wait a minute," Remus said, seeing Severus move to refill the stopper.

"Drink it, Lupin. There's no use stopping now that you've started."

Remus allowed the second dose to be poured into his mouth.

Severus stood back and examined him, his black eyes raking over him. "An improvement."

Somehow, Remus found himself drinking a third stopper full of potion before he could muster up a protest.

"It will do. Well, I believe I shall be going. The Wolfsbane is on the hall table. I expect you will remember to take it?"

Remus was not surprised, but he couldn't seem to swallow the lump that rose in his throat. "You're leaving, then?"

"I don't see any reason to stay."

"Floo might be out. I'll need someone here tonight."

"I'm sure Molly Weasley will be thrilled."

Remus nodded glumly, though if there was one person he didn't want help from, it was Mrs Weasley. She had never liked Sirius.

There was a long silence, and though Remus looked blankly at the wall, he couldn't help but notice that Severus hadn't moved.

"Will you inform Albus?"

"I will. Shall I inform Potter, as well?"

Remus turned so abruptly he banged his elbow on the edge of the table, jostling the bundle in his arms. "You will not!"

Severus started to reply, but whatever he said was lost in the shrill wail that filled the cavernous room. He chose to roll his eyes instead, watching as Remus made an awkward attempt at restoring quiet.

"There... there...."

"You might as well hand it back to the house-elf, if that's the best you can do."

After a time, Remus finally managed to get the job done by allowing his knuckle to be gnawed on. "I thought you were leaving."

"And I thought you begged me not to leave you here alone."

Remus felt a flush creeping up his neck. Severus did always have a way of wording things. "It would be kind of you to stay until I can get a hold of someone who can stay tonight."

"Fine."

Remus didn't dare look at him. "Thank you. Could you see what is the problem with the floo?"

Severus approached the fireplace and looked in with distaste. "Blocked with rags. Must be what Black was wearing."

"Kreacher..." Remus muttered darkly.

"Likely. Well? Whom shall it be? Weasley? Tonks?"

"I... don't know."

"Well, make up your mind, for pity's sake. It's --" Severus turned to look at the clock hanging on the opposite wall, and froze. "Lupin, get the bloody potion now!"

A glance at the clock sent Remus stumbling to his feet. "I had no idea it was so late."

Severus was staring at him with a kind of stupefied horror, his face absolutely white.

Somehow they were both in the hallway a few moments later, Remus gulping the disgusting potion with hardly a grimace.

That done, he looked around desperately, not knowing what to do with himself. "Severus, what do I do?"

Severus's face showed exactly what he thought of the question, but more than that he appeared to be inching toward the front door, eyeing Remus apprehensively as if expecting him to transform into a bloodthirsty beast any second. "What do you usually do?"

"I lock myself in the empty guest room on the third floor." A shudder ran through him, and he bit his lip to stifle a cry. "It's specially warded."

Severus's eyes grew wider still, the pupils dilating. He backed away another step. "You'd best get there, then."

"But --" Remus started, but another shudder cut him off.

Severus darted forward, grabbing up the blanketed bundle out of Remus's arms, and without a backwards glance blasted open the front door and slammed it shut behind him, leaving Remus alone in the darkened hallway.

The tremors started then, as well as the pain, and Remus's mind was too overwhelmed with the horror of the change to allow any further thoughts of the helpless infant Severus had carried off.