A/N: Well, here goes. For the people who requested some more action, I hope this will do.

My poor girlfriend, who (if it should be forgotten by now) is writing this fic together with me, and who should be given credit for the truly brilliant parts, really despaired at the end of this chapter, and she deserves a round of applause for her perseverance.

Oh, and here we go again, dropping hints. Can you find them?

Chapter six

The shit hits the fan

When Remus opened the door, Sirius was at least prepared. Prepared for the affection that was as instinctive as breathing by now, prepared for the memories that accompanied the sight of his friend and former lover's face. It wasn't exactly the memory of sights or sounds, but it was every emotion brought on by those memories, at once, beating through him every moment like a second pulse. And yes, he still loved that man. Dazedly he acknowledged that it was probably mostly because he'd never had a chance to stop. He'd never given himself that chance. But that didn't matter because that didn't do much to change the fact that he was here, now, and he was still in love with a married man.

And yet, now that he wasn't engulfed in self-pity and anger, he also felt something that in some ways went deeper than his love, and this was the feeling – the sudden insight – that he truly and deeply cared for this man, cared for him in every possible sense, not only the romantic. And while it was true that he wanted to kiss the man, to hold him, to be able to tell the world that Remus was his, it was all overtaken and left far behind by something that mattered so much more. What he wanted – what he really wanted – was for Remus to be happy. With him or without him; it was irrelevant, as long as Remus would always be as happy and as peaceful as he obviously was now.

If that meant that he had to stay with Nymphadora… well, Sirius certainly wouldn't be happy about it, but he would be far happier than he would be if he ever spoiled Remus' chance at true happiness.

And this, he realised, was true love. Everything else… everything else was of no greater consequence than a spoiled child yelling for candy.

It was liberating, somehow, to know this, but the insight also hurt far worse than the previous anger. Being angry was easy. Being in love wasn't.

Remus was staring at him in absolute shock, but as seconds passed there was also pain slowly seeping into his eyes, and Sirius now knew for certain that Severus had been right. Sirius had not been doing what Remus wanted him to. Remus had been bloody miserable. And yet again, it was Sirius' fault.

Is this what it's going to always be like? Will I ever even dare try to win him back if I always make him hurt?

But still, he knew that if he ever was given the smallest chance, he would try. Of course he would. But it would be Remus' choice to make, and he hoped with all of his soul that he would make the right decision, no matter who he chose.

Before Remus could say anything – at any rate, that looked like it could take quite some time – Sirius tried gather all the platonic affection he could muster and smiled at Remus, shoving all the shameful cravings and selfish longing into some dark and hopefully soon forgotten corner of his heart. Time to do this another way.

"Hello, Remus. I've been a right arse, haven't I?"

Remus tried in vain to find a word to adequately describe his feelings. Not really because he felt a need to describe them, after all they were his feelings and he knew perfectly well what they were with or without words, but because he needed to occupy his mind with something systematic and rational to not be overwhelmed by the torrent of emotion that assaulted him as he saw the raw need in his old lover's eyes.

"Sirius..."

And there the words ran out. But perhaps it was because that was the word, the one he'd been trying to find. It had slipped out of him without passing through the filter of consciousness and now it shimmered in the air telling him all about how much he'd missed this man.

"Should I take that as a yes?" Sirius felt tears running down his cheeks but still he couldn't stop smiling.

"Eh... come in?"

There was no ease between them; Remus could feel the hollow space where their friendship and love once had made all communication effortless. The years had eroded it away, and now they were both sore and skinless, every touch hitting a nerve.

"Gladly. I'm freezing my balls off." Sirius knew that much of his unaffected air was... well, affected. But to say everything he was thinking, feeling, was impossible, and so it was easier to act as if this wasn't as difficult as it really was. As the warmth of the hall enveloped him and he closed the door behind him, he felt like someone from a sitcom who had just stepped into a Bergman movie. This situation should be emotional and complicated and full of deep and heartfelt pain, but he was so ridiculously happy to finally have back the man that represented everything he had been before he became this drifting wreck of a human that he couldn't be bothered. "Cosy," he said, grinning teasingly, hoping to make this easier for Remus, since the other man seemed to be on the verge of a nervous collapse. "I especially like the frog-shaped lamp."

Remus snorted with unintentional yet relieved laughter. Count on his wife to ease tension, even when she wasn't even present. "Dora wanted it, she talked me into buying it by saying it was for Gracie's room, and then she put it down here, telling the children that he's our enchanted prince watching our house until that special someone comes through the door and he can stop being a frog. So now he has to sit there, or Gracie will throw a fit."

Sirius' heart swelled. Remus could still laugh in his presence. Maybe he hadn't screwed everything up quite yet. "Hah! I love your wife, Remus. But you've always had good taste," he said, and hoped it wasn't a terribly wrong thing to say.

Remus cringed somewhat, not really happy with Sirius' choice of words but still glad that he had something nice to say about Dora. Not that he'd ever doubted Sirius' affection for his cousin, but it still felt good to see that he hadn't become too embittered to appreciate Nymphadora as a person, even if he perhaps wasn't ready yet to be truly content with the fact that she was Remus' wife. "Yes, I love her too."

All too late Remus realised how tactless he'd been. His eyes went wide in fright he awaited the sorrow and/or anger that would follow his clumsy remark.

Sirius did feel a stab of hurt, but it passed fast as he realised that among the rest of the revelations this encounter had brought on, there was the knowledge that even though he was sorry that Remus didn't love him anymore, he wasn't sorry that he loved Dora. "I should damn well hope that you love her," he said, grinning at Remus' apprehension. "Anything else would be a bloody insult. Plus, if you didn't love her, I'd have to break every bone in your body for playing with the heart of my little cousin."

Remus had no idea how to react to this. He'd been braced and prepared for a temper tantrum, and the man standing before him was being all... grown up on him.

"Okay, I must assume that you've changed a lot over these past years, because that definitively wasn't the reaction I was expecting, and I can't remember the last time I couldn't predict your response to any given thing."

"Changed? Always so diplomatic, Moony. Try 'grown up'. Oh, and, spending four years with Severus firing sarcasms at you seems to do that." Too late Sirius realised that he had just referred to Snape by first name, and that he was actually smiling rather fondly while saying it, and wanted to bang his head against some hard surface.

The smile on the other man's face ignited a weird little spark of jealousy in Remus, but he hoped it didn't show in his voice when he uttered his response. "Wait a minute, Severus? Severus Snape?"

Sirius made a face. "The one and the same. I don't know how it happened, and I'm certainly not taking responsibility, but we've sort of..." Sirius trailed off, loath to own up to such disgrace, but there had to be a time to swallow all pride and admit the truth. "In some strange way, I think we've become friends. Actually, it was because he got tired of my whining that I was sent me here with orders to make up with you." He grinned rather sheepishly. "To tell the truth, all of my angsting must've been wearing holes in his patience for quite a while. I suspect I've been desperately boring company from time to time." It struck him that this was very true, and wondered how come Severus hadn't just given up on him.

Remus shook his head, not quite prepared to accept this paradigm shift that had obviously occurred. He suspected that he was experiencing a tiny sliver of the shock and disbelief that Sirius had gone through when that god awful veil had so ruthlessly thrown him back into the world. "Dear me, that is quite a surprise. Dora's been trying to tell me that Snape has changed, though I could see little evidence of it whenever she'd drag him over here for dinner. Obviously I wasn't looking hard enough."

Now Sirius looked surprised too. "He came here? He never told me. But obviously, he never told you about me either." He smiled wryly. "How very alike him. Letting everyone figure things out on their own, because how could it possibly be his business?" He shook his head and thought things over. "And yes," he admitted reluctantly, "he has changed. I suppose that he's lost the initiative to spend his days being spiteful and bitter when the war ended. He's still possibly the most annoying man in history, but… but it's nice to talk to someone who was… there, from the beginning. And he listens. And I suppose there are some other things which I needed to talk about which he… understands." He shifted uncomfortably, but he'd be damned if he'd let this become awkward when they had both done so well up till now. "So, can I give you a hug, or am I completely out of line then?"

Remus smiled a genuinely warm smile and opted for action rather than words, pulling Sirius into a tight embrace. Sirius hugged back, clutching the other man rather desperately for a few seconds, before relaxing and leaning his cheek against the other man's head. He hoped that Remus would take it for what it was; relief at finally being able to come close to him, to regain a part of what he had lost, and not… not anything that would, right now, harm the both of them.

"I've missed you, Moony."

"Missed you too, Padfoot."

And at that moment, Dora found it prudent to find out who the hell her husband was having such a lengthy conversation with (in the bleeding hallway for crying out loud!). She wasn't really prepared to find him wrapped around his ex-boyfriend, and she couldn't in all honesty say she was very happy about it.

Sirius heard a faint noise, and looked up right into the wide eyes of Remus' wife. She stared at him either in surprise or horror, and he flew away from the other man as if someone had just wired a thousand volt into Remus.

"Tonks! I… This… I'm sorry, I… This looks rather bad."

Dora couldn't help it, she laughed.

"Yeah, it sure does now! Where's my hug?" And then she decided not to wait for it and instead flung her arms around Sirius like the kid sister he'd always treated her as. She'd been jealous, and felt a right tit for it. The Code of Dora clearly stated that whenever you acted like a twat you had to find someway to counteract your initial impulse. In this case, hugging seemed appropriate.

Sirius stiffened for a moment, and then he too laughed, hugging her back rather roughly. "Hello there, cousin. Is it okay if I gatecrash you for dinner?"

Dora nodded vigorously. "Sure, I always make sure Remus cooks for five, just in case."

"I hardly think it's just in case I show up," Sirius said sceptically, but in the light of Dora's general personality he had to add a, "right?"

"Just in case someone shows up. You just never know." Dora shrugged. "I'm an Auror, we like to be prepared."

"Constant vigilance? I hardly think he's referring to cooking."

Dora flinched and actually seemed to become physically smaller, the radiant pink of her hair fading somewhat. "I imagine that wasn't what he meant, no."

Sirius looked confused. "Meant?" And as she looked almost tearful, his eyes widened. "No, he cannot be… I'm so sorry. Harry isn't that keen on talking about the war, and I just assumed that he'd… retired. I had no idea…"

Dora shook herself, slightly reminiscent of a dog shaking rain out of its fur, and sort of popped back into shape. "Don't worry about it, can we just have dinner now? I've cried enough over the war to last me a lifetime, and this is a happy occasion." She turned towards the stairs and hollered like a bull horn. "Teddy! Gracie! Dinner!"

The boy Sirius remembered from the hospital appeared in one of the doors on the upstairs landing. His hair was now the exact shade as Remus', and his face also seemed to have grown more similar, although that could've been caused by natural development. As his eyes fell on Sirius they narrowed dramatically and the small mouth set in a grim line. He stomped down the stairs and went straight to Dora, his hair changing to pink as he grabbed her hand in a vice grip, glaring at Sirius.

"What is he doing here, mum?"

Dora tried her best to keep the 'oh shit' out of her features as she crouched down so that she was on the same level as her son. "He's come to visit, pup. He's having dinner with us and both dad and me are very happy to see him."

Teddy snorted audibly and threw Sirius one more filthy look, before suddenly looking back to Dora with the sweetest smile possible on his face. "Whatever you say, mother," he said, kissing her on the cheek. And, just to drive the point a little further, it appeared, said, "I love you," with a almost unnoticeable emphasise on 'you', before disappearing into the kitchen.

"I see I've made myself very popular," Sirius said ruefully. "Awfully sorry about that."

Dora waved a hand dismissively. "He'll come around… I hope. Now what's taking Grace so long?" She went a couple of steps up the stair. "Gracie! Where's my little monster?"

There was a distant crash and then the sound of running feet, and a strawberry blonde, wiry four-year-old appeared helter-skelter, probably from her room, and thundered down the stairs seemingly with absolute contempt of death.

Dora backed back down from the stair as it was obvious that her daughter was going to pull another one of her death-defying stunts. No sooner had she planted her feet firmly on the floor than the girl shot herself like a canon-ball from a few steps up to fly into her mother's terrified grip. The force of impact was almost, but not quite, enough to knock her off her feet. Remus, who had made a frantic motion toward the stairs as soon as he, too, figured out what his daughter was about to do, now steadied his wife and gave Grace a stern look that would've been a lot more intimidating if the hands holding Dora hadn't been shaking so badly. "Grace! How many time do I have to tell you not to do that?"

Gracie smiled a little sunshine smile while her eyes flickered erratically about the room. "Always one more time!" She squirmed to be let down, and Dora managed to unclamp her arms at the second attempt.

"Hello, Grace," Sirius said, a little stunned but somewhat amused to see Remus so… fatherly. "I'm going to sound a million years old now, but even if you don't remember me, the last time I saw you, you were small enough to use as a doorstopper." Remus sent him an appalled look. Grace locked eyes with Sirius for about three seconds before the yellowish orbs started to dart around all over the rest of his appearance.

"Who's you?"

Ignoring Remus' muttered 'are', Sirius smiled. "I'm an old friend of your father's."

"Hey!"

"And your mother, sorry Tonks. An old friend of your mother's and an older friend of your father's, then."

"Okay," the girl said and ran up to the strange man to hug his knees.

Sirius ruffled her hair and smiled at Remus and Dora. "Well, at least this one seems to be all for unconditional love. How's about dinner?"

"I went there."

Severus looked up from the newspaper he was pretending to care about. "What do you want, a round of applause?"

Sirius sighed a bit irritably and sat down. "Well, I was actually hoping for a bit of appreciation."

"I'm cheering on the inside. Plus, I left the door open and ignored the fact that I have work in the morning so you could amuse yourself by making a dramatic entry. I think that is quite sufficient remuneration for your efforts."

Sirius looked a bit sheepish. "It is rather late, isn't it? I'm sorry. I was wondering why the door was open, considering your general paranoia."

Severus opened his mouth to answer, and then realised that whatever words would tumble out of his mouth could be naught but proofs of how much he'd gradually begun to care about Black, and they just didn't do that kind of thing. In fact he'd already overstepped a few boundaries. You did not sit up in the middle of the night waiting for someone you barely tolerated.

He closed his mouth and let a very inappropriate amount of time pass. What made matters worse was that when trying to fix his gaze on something it ended up being locked in the grey cages that was Sirius' eyes. It must look so wrong to Black, because things were of course completely different from what they might seem like to an outside observer, but the observer wouldn't know that, would he? And why was he even thinking this? And shouldn't he be saying something about now?

"Paranoia or no, I'm awake and you're here. Tea?"

And he simply couldn't believe he'd said that.

"What? Oh, yes please." What had that been about then? That broody silence and intense glaring? Well, it was always something, so he supposed he could just let it drop. "It wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be. He was happy to see me and so was Dora, once we'd gotten past the initial embarrassment of her finding me hugging Remus. And I was invited to dinner and treated like an old, much beloved friend." He sighed. "It's a pity I'm still madly in love with that bastard."

Severus sighed. "Yes. A pity." He couldn't blame Black, and he honestly didn't, but the sheer annoyance that suddenly flooded his systems made it impossible to squeeze out anything but those impassive, nondescript syllables.

Severus sounded odd. Maybe he thought Sirius ought to have gotten over Remus by now? He was right, of course, but he really didn't have any right to complain, now did he? On the other hand Sirius was too tired, both mentally and physically, to be angry, or even annoyed. "I just hope that by spending more time with him…" He fell silent, not knowing what it was that he wanted to say. Sure, the most simplistic, selfish reason was that he wanted Remus to fall in love with him again, but somehow it just didn't seem like such a good thing to say, because it was mean and egoistic and it would just make Severus more annoyed, if that was indeed what he was. The second reason sounded better; he half hoped that he'd get over Remus and finally be able to get on with his own life. But since that wasn't his only motive it would feel like lying if he claimed that it was. "…it'll all work out, somehow," he finished, rather lamely, averting his eyes and hoping he didn't look too guilty.

"In all probability it will," Severus said more kindly and got out of the couch to wander off to the kitchen. Making tea seemed like just the refuge he needed to clear his head.

Sirius followed him, unaware that this was probably not the wisest move if he wanted Severus to stop being annoyed. All he knew that right now he needed someone around that didn't make him want to scream from the sheer tension that acting like a normal person around them led to.

"Yeah, well, at least it can hardly get worse. Here, let me get that." Sirius took the milk bottle from Severus' unresisting left hand, allowing the other man to turn the faucet and fill the teapot in his right hand. "Oh, and Teddy hates my guts."

"Why shouldn't he?" Severus replied as he put he kettle on the stove. "You barged in just after his baby sister had been born and started hollering about how you wanted to take his father away from him."

Sirius picked two cans of tea out of one of the kitchen cabinet. "Earl grey or Ceylon? And of course he hates me. I just… Obviously, I need to do something about it. It kills them. I mean, no parent want their child to be as unhappy as he was throughout the whole dinner. And well, he has his father's glare, and it is a fearsome thing to behold."

"Ceylon." Severus produced a pair of cups from another cabinet and put them on a counter. "Just like you to be intimidated by an eleven year old. You'll figure it out, or you will actually take his father from him in which case his hatred is completely justified."

Sirius poured the tea into a strainer and then scrambled through another cabinet after the honey, adding a ridiculous amount to his own cup along with a splash of milk. There was nothing in Severus' cup. He wanted his tea black. Naturally. "I know. I feel like the worst kind of arse for even considering it, but there it is. Why don't the poets ever mention how selfish love makes you?"

Severus gave Sirius' cup a disdainful look. He'd never gotten used to the man's sissy ways though they'd been having heaven knew how many cups of tea together over the years. "Because poets are pretentious pricks to whom a completely self-centred world view is not only natural, but admirable."

Sirius was peering into the cabinet. "I take it you're no great fan of poetry?"

"I never said that."

"But… Oh, I see. You're a fan of poetry, not of the poets."

"Something like that."

"You are a pretentious prick. Let's go wild. Let's have biscuits, shall we." He threw Severus a look over his shoulder. The other man did not look impressed.

"Oh, whoop-di-do."

"Oh, shut up. Why are there chocolate biscuits here? You hate chocolate."

Because you like them. "I have no idea. You must have left them here."

"I did? Oh, well." Sirius shrugged and popped a biscuit into his mouth. He also extracted the salt biscuits that Severus liked and got the gorgonzola out of the fridge, following Severus back into the living room. He glanced over at the clock over the mantelpiece and realised with a start that it was half past twelve. "Eh… didn't you say that you've got work tomorrow?"

"I have excellent stamina, and I'm not going to waste a cup of perfectly good tea just because it's late."

Sirius smiled, he couldn't help it. "I'm not complaining."

After a few more visits to Remus' family, Sirius resolved that he had to do something about the situation with Teddy. It was, of course, not strange that the boy detested him; after all, his only memory of Sirius was of a man who had shouted a lot and who was apparently trying to steal his father away from him and his mother. No wonder he'd made himself look like Dora in Sirius' presence; it was his way of taking sides. Showing his colours, as it were.

So three days after that Teddy had left for Hogwarts, Sirius followed him there, hoping to catch the boy on his own so that they could have a little chat. He had been somewhat appalled to find out that Remus' son had ended up in Slytherin, but from what he'd seen the boy was an excellent actor and would fit right in. Besides... He remembered how erratic he'd been when he was eleven; loud, untamed and aggressive, always the focus of everyone's attention... and Regulus had ended up in the shadows because he was much calmer, much more sensitive, much, much less of a pest... So Regulus had learnt of other ways of dragging attention to himself, learnt how to pander to people's wants and needs in a way that, in the end, left Sirius' rowdiness way behind. Maybe it was the same for Teddy, living together with Grace? Sirius adored that little menace, you couldn't help doing so, but she must be rather hellish to have as a sibling. Because everyone would always be watching her, if only just to make sure that she wasn't going to start scaling the walls the moment you looked away. So in a way, he understood Teddy's choice, even if he still quietly lamented it. After all, it was rather sensible. And right then, Sirius had a feeling that sensibility was the thing that might save him from the wrath of Teddy Lupin.

He was lucky, and found Teddy alone in a relatively remote corner of the Slytherin common room. As he approached Teddy looked up and narrowed his eyes in obvious dislike, and after a few moments during which the boy seemed to think deeply, his hair turned into a violent mix of green and silver. His eyes turned green too. Obviously, he had guessed that Sirius wasn't too fond of Slytherins. Except for the fact that his current – arghh! – best friend was one. Oookay…

"What do you want?"

Sirius cleared his throat. "Well… I wanted to come and see you."

"What makes you think that I want to see you?" The boy demonstratively looked down at his book, lifting it so that he was almost hiding his face. But Sirius could see his eyes watching him from over the edge.

"Actually, I know for a fact that you don't want to see me. But this is where we get in trouble, 'cause your parents do."

Teddy lowered the book, the better to glare at the hateful man. "Well, I don't want you to see them either."

"Too bad, I'm going to do it anyway." Sirius crouched. "Teddy, your parents like me, and yes," he added hastily when he got a sceptical look thrown into his face like a pie in a Marx brother's movie, "even your mother. And I care very much about them. It's making them very sad that the two of us aren't getting along, and I just came here to ask you to at least give it a try. Or, if that's too big a stretch, to act like you're trying in front of your parents like a true Slytherin."

Teddy bit his lower lip, confused and therefore, after some consideration, angry. "You're in love with dad," he spat, like an accusation.

Oh, crap. What do I say? "No need to worry, your father is not in love with me."

"I know that."

"Then, as I said, no need to worry." Sirius got back on his feet. "Look, Teddy, I can tell that you're a smart young man, so lying to you obviously wouldn't work. Yes, I'm in love with your dad and if he decided that he wanted to be with me then I would not say no. But you see, your dad don't want to be with me, and as far as I can tell he never will. What your daddy wants is to be my friend, and he really wants that. And you know, grown-ups have this irritating habit to do as they please whatever their kids may think about things if the grown-ups think they're right, and in this case both your parents think that I should be their friend and that you'll get over it. Which is wrong because I can see that you are very capable of holding a grudge forever. I know that because I can hold a grudge forever, and I also know how not nice that is to everyone else. So, let's be smart about this. Truce?"

Teddy sighed, annoyed. It wasn't really fair of the dolt to actually have a point. But there it was. Unfortunately, it seemed, his father had a lousy taste in friends. "Very well, then. I won't like you, you know. But I suppose I can learn to tolerate you as long as you don't do anything that will upset my mother." With the full solemnity of a child knowing that he's doing something that's almost ceremonious, he extended a hand. "Agreed?"

Sirius took the hand in his own with equal severity. "Agreed," he said as they shook on it.

Sirius had left the Slytherin common room with a small sigh of relief – all that green and silver had reminded him strongly of Grimmauld Place 12 – and was climbing the stairs to the ground floor when something made him stop. Someone was laughing. And it wasn't really the voice but the way the person laughed that seemed, somehow, familiar. He turned around and saw a student with a Head Boy badge and a middle-aged man in teacher's robes. It appeared that it was the professor he'd heard laughing, which was strange, because he was sure he'd never seen the man before.

The professor stood facing the student so that Sirius could see his left side and his face in profile, and nothing about him rang a bell. Their voices drifted up the stairwell to him and without really thinking about what he was doing, he stopped to listen.

"I have a feeling they do it on purpose, though," the Head Boy was saying. "I've heard some of them blaming other students for it even when it is obvious that they only have themselves to blame. And usually it is when they're working together with Slytherins."

"You astound me," the professor replied dryly. "Well, they get nothing for it, surely? I mean, even the most daft of teachers…"

"No, of course not. But it adds to Madame Pomfrey's workload and she isn't exactly young anymore, and it interrupts classes and causes disorganisation. So she asked me to ask you to talk to them…?"

The professor's eyebrows shot up, and once more Sirius got a feeling that he'd met this man somewhere. "Surely the Gryffindor Head of House would be better?"

"Well, he's already tried, see. But they seem convinced that they're doing the right thing. So now they want you to put the fear of the Slytherins into the little brats."

Once more the professor laughed, and Sirius found himself getting… annoyed? Angry? "Indeed? Am I that terrifying?"

"Monstrous," said the Head Boy with an absolutely straight face. "Who wouldn't be afraid of Professor Darling?"

Darling? I don't know any Darling, do I? Sirius frowned. But the man called Darling was smiling widely, and he gestured at himself with an ironical little wave.(Where have I seen that before?) "Yes, I am truly imposing. Fear me."

"Trying to, sir. And I have a feeling you will be a lot more frightening in about three minutes."

"Indeed? Why?"

"Well, sir, in three minutes your next class begins, and if I am the one to detain you enough to make you late then I will certainly have a reason to be very frightened indeed."

"Oh, sugar!" Sugar? Wait a minute… "You're right. Well, I'm glad you told me, Claude, and if you think it would help then I will surely talk to them." He turned to leave, and just as Sirius had reached the conclusion that he'd only ever known one man who actually used 'Sugar' instead of an actual profanity, he looked down and saw… or rather, didn't see a hand. The man had no right hand. And suddenly, it all made a lot of sense…

"Peter Pettigrew!"

Though a frightened voice babbled hysterically in the back of his mind

(whatthehellareyoudoingyouhavenoideawhothisguyisohmygodyou'regoingbacktorpisonpleasestop)

he had absolutely no control of his actions as he lunged for the stranger he was convinced was his own personal arch enemy. Sure, Voldemort had been the grand Nemesis, but he was everyone's Nemesis. This moment however, was for Sirius alone to savour. As he slammed the man against the wall, fumbling for his wand as he held him there, his rage-flooded mind registered that this person was not reacting like he was supposed to. The brown eyes of the much shorter man didn't flicker, but met his steadily, and even as Sirius pressed his wand to his throat he experienced a horrible, sinking sensation as he realised that he was wrong, that this wasn't Peter at all and that he looked a right arse standing there-

"I was doing so well right up until 'Sugar', wasn't I?" said the other man, sounding defeated.

The killing curse was a the tip of Sirius' tongue, and hung there whispering of sweet, sweet revenge, but he babbling voice had turned up the volume and was now a deafening roar.

(DOES THE WORD AZKABAN MEAN ANYTHING TO YOU!?)

"You'll do even better being dead!" he snarled, and cursed himself for being so abysmally lame. The truth was that he was stalling, and a flicker in Peter's eyes told him that the bane of his life knew it too. And that flicker sparked the flame of a solution in his brain. Make the bastard fight. Make it so that he didn't have to choose between letting the rat live or snapping it's neck. Make it about fighting the good fight once more. He let go of Peter and backed a few steppes back. "Come on, let's see if we can relive some old memories, shall we? Yeah, pull your wand and show the school the one talent you actually have!"

Richard – whatever Sirius might think he wasn't Peter, not anymore – was frightened. Actually, arse-deep in terror was closer to the truth. But when he pulled his wand it was only to throw it as far as he could, which wasn't really very far, but it was far enough to make the point. "If you want to kill me, Sirius, then just do it. But I'm not going to fight you." The most base part of his mind, the one dealing with self-perseverance, was screaming at him in horror. How could he just have thrown away his only way of protecting himself? He'd beaten Sirius before, he could do it again! What was he doing? But Richard had spent so much of his life listening to that voice and he was sick and tired of it. It never did him any good before, so why the hell was he supposed to listen to it now? "I'm not going to fight," he repeated. "Especially not you."

Sirius was thrown by the man's response, but only for a moment. He was sick of these games and for every passing moment the man before him looked less and less like the mild mannered professor he'd first seen and more and more like the oh, so hated childhood friend that had laughed at him as he revealed himself to be much more, and less, than any of his companions had ever given him credit for.

"Fine!" And he drew the final breath that would blow away all his recent happiness just so he could finally get even, whatever that meant.

"I would appreciate it, Sirius, if you did not try to kill off my staff." Sirius couldn't help it, but for a moment he looked away, and a moment was all it took for Peter to get unfreeze and quickly back away, so that he came to stand next to Minerva McGonagall as she advanced on them with the Head Boy Claude in tow – it appeared that he had been the one to fetch her.

Sirius was frantic. When he'd finally stepped over the edge a bunch of ignorant fools had to go and yank him back! "You don't understand, that man is not who you think. That's Peter Pettigrew!"

"You're wrong," she said calmly. "He is, in fact, Richard Darling, formerly known as Peter Pettigrew and released from Azkaban in accordance with the Ministry program for Death Eater rehabilitation. He is, moreover, a very talented History of Magic professor, and as long as he does that job well and actually manages to spark some interest from the students I honestly wouldn't care if he was the Dark Lord himself."

"He's the scum of the earth, and you know it! I can't believe what I'm hearing! What has he done, imperiused the lot of you? You can't honestly stand here being perfectly fine with having the man responsible for so many deaths in this very school working here as a teacher!"

He has a point, Richard thought, but didn't say it out loud.

Minerva sighed. "Fine with it? I wouldn't say that I am. But I believe that Harry is right to think that our system of penalties needs some serious rearranging and when he suggested the program I was the first one to back him up." Sirius opened his mouth to interrupt, and she gave him the Teacher Look, which was a very nasty way of making him shut up, but at least it worked. "And while I hired this man as Richard Darling, because he seemed to me to be a kind, sympathetic man who appeared to care a lot about the subject he wanted to teach, it was his decision to tell the staff who he had been and leave it up to me to decide whether I still wanted him here. I didn't. But even more, I wanted the inhumanities of Azkaban to be put to an end, and if that meant I had to swallow the bitter pill of having someone I sincerely dislike on my own staff, then so be it."

"Dislike? Dislike?" No look in the world could shut Sirius up now. "You talk about him as if he'd… I don't know, run over your cat! This is Peter Pettigrew! You know what he's capable of, and you let him take care of people's children? How the hell can you call yourself headmistress of this school? This is a disgrace! You think he's changed? Like we thought he was our friend? He hasn't changed worth shit and to think so is to risk the lives of innocents, and whatever you say from the back of that moral high horse, no principles in the world are worth that!"

Her mouth turned into a thin, white line and she became rather a lot more animated from sheer anger. "I do call myself headmistress of this school, Mr Black, and I would certainly never do anything that could in any way be harmful to the children that I carry the responsibility for. But although I don't claim to know Richard, what I do know about his crimes is that he always did what he did because it benefited him best, not because of any kind of conviction or sadistic urge. And I cannot believe that it would benefit him in any way to hurt his students, since the moment he so much as runs over a cat, he will be back in Azkaban. I've been told that is not a very nice place."

"Well, that's all very academic of you, McGonagall. But hey, if you want him you're welcome to him. Now, though I don't have any kids of my own to pull out of this place I still have someone whom I care very deeply about who might not appreciate that his son is being taught by the man who shattered his life, so I'll just go inform him that the wizard community has kindly stabbed him in the back again. Good day." And off Sirius stormed without looking back even once.

Richard sighed. He hadn't been prepared for Sirius to appear, and he'd failed miserably at the charade that had successfully kept Remus so clueless over this summer. And now he'd pulled down this over McGonagall's head, as if being Headmistress after Dumbledore wasn't hard enough as it was.

Oh, well. It had been a nice try. "I'll go pack my things, shall I?" he said.

"You most certainly will not. I did not just stand here practically ruining my career to have you scurrying off like a coward. You made the decision to come forward and I made the decision to back you up, whatever consequences there may we'll both deal with them. Now get out of my sight," Minerva snapped before scanning the still deserted corridor discovering only a very frightened Claude. "You," she pointed at the floor in front of her, "here."

"Yes ma'am… I mean, professor." Claude stepped a little closer, but still kept a healthy distance between them.

"Young man, you are not to speak of what you just heard. I would prefer it if I did not have to alter your memory since it is in no way my area of expertise and I may accidentally hurt you, so I will simply trust in your discretion." She fixated the boy with a glare that told him all he needed to know about what would happen if it turned out that he could not be trusted. "I would also like for you to find out if any other students overheard this little… conversation. The rumours should start flying pretty soon so if no word is circulating by supper I think it is safe to conclude that no one else knows, and believe me I will know if any rumours have been started by you. So, to conclude, keep your mouth shut and your ears open. Do I make myself clear?"

Claude nodded, looking thoughtful. Naturally, he didn't want to have his memory altered, and he could hear the underlying threat as clearly as if she'd spoken it out loud. Besides, he still didn't know what to think about this, and until he did, he'd rather keep it to himself anyway. People in general weren't very clever when it came to rumours, and tended to always think the worst simply because it was more exiting that way. And besides… well, he liked professor Darling. It was very hard to believe that he'd… But apparently he had. Anyway, this wasn't the time to make the headmistress doubt that he could keep silent. This was definitely a good time to present the face of Obedience. So he nodded solemnly and met her steely gaze.

"Crystal, professor. Glass. A lot of other clear substances, too, which have for the moment slipped my mind."

And it appeared she believed him, at least for the moment. Claude respectfully bowed to her and went away to think.

A/N: Oh joy, happy happy joy! The drama! What will Remus say?! /cue dramatic music