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I'm working on the chapter lengths as someone suggested. They're not much longer, but every few hundred words counts, right?

Hope this part is okay.

9. Sirius

Sirius can only stare as they approach the castle. Seven years has passed since their days as students, and while he has no idea where the time had gone, his memories feel like a distant dream. He considers asking Remus if he feels the same or if it is just him – if he's slipped back into the post-Azkaban phase where the past seemed as real as the books he used to steal from Remus. He worries about Remus' reply, and is still toying with the idea of breaching the subject when they stop in front of the wrought gold gates enmeshed with each house's symbol.

Dumbledore lays his hand upon the gate, performing a complex series of swishes with his wand before the gates swing open and they're able to enter. As ever, the castle is beautiful. Sirius remembers the first time he stepped inside the place. He had known it was special; his mother and his father had imposed the grandeur of the castle on him, insisting it was the perfect place to learn, understand and become the rightful family heir. However it wasn't the impressive decor that caught his eleven year old eyes. It had been the other residents, the pupils and teachers, all of whom were delighted to be there.

Dumbledore leads the way up the winding path. Sirius is at the back, staring at Remus' feet to show him the way. When he'd entered the castle as a young boy he'd been notorious because of his family name. Despite not being completely aware of their darkness at that point, he had been bored by the endless restrictions throughout his childhood and was happy to forget his upbringing, soon successfully creating such a reputation that his background was forgotten. After the events of the previous year he worries that yet again his appearance will cause a stir, this time not one he can so easily swerve. He knows the word of his innocence has been spread, but he's yet to see wizarding folk other than the two in front of him, and he's no clue what their reaction to his freedom will be.

As they walk he looks over the grounds. The lake is in the distance, shimmering from the winter sun, but it is what he sees in the foreground that makes his heart leap. The Whomping Willow doesn't look any more battered than it was when he saw it last, and he supposes that's because no-one other than the marauders would dare go near it. He wants Remus to acknowledge he's seen it too, wanting confirmation of all the times they spent creeping beneath it. If anything the tree holds more significance for Remus, but he realises that perhaps that's the reason why the man's head is fixed firmly in the opposite direction. He hopes – and then feels guilty – that Remus is going through the same as him; feeling happy to be back in the place where they created so many memories, but torn at all the things they've lost since then – James, Lily, Peter and their innocence.

As they stride through the school gates, Remus falls back to walk along side of him, giving a weak smile as he does so.

"Alright?"

"Everything still looks the same," Sirius replies.

"I know. I think part of me was expecting a major change; the Quidditch Pitch filled in, only half of the Gryffindor Tower left, that sort of thing."

At that moment Sirius knows Remus understands, and finally returns the smile. "Not sure which is worse."

"Nowhere to fly or nowhere to sleep?"

"No changes or everything changed."

"I think it's better this way, you know?" Remus says, turning sharply up a staircase as they follow Dumbledore. "Too many things have happened, wouldn't wish the same upon Hogwarts."

They hurry, noticing Dumbledore's already left the staircase and is continuing his fast pace down a corridor. A bunch of pupils squeeze past them at the top of the stairs. Sirius can't help but notice that their conversation stalls as the two girls at the front clasp eyes on him. He glares at them, and pushes in front of Remus to move away.

"Moony, they were staring."

"Bad time to mention that you didn't used to mind?"

"Yes, bad time," Sirius hisses, grabbing Remus' wrist.

Remus gives him the look which tells him to stop being ridiculous, and for a moment it feels as if they too are students, and plotting a prank not a mission with Dumbledore. He releases his grip.

"They're going to look," Remus says. "For one, you're bound to have been in the Daily Prophet recently, and two, who can blame the girls for giving a double take when they see someone has handsome as you."

"Now you know I can't resist a compliment, especially from you, but I hardly think these children are interested in an aging serial killer."

"You're not a serial killer," Remus says, matter of fact, "and please don't tell the almost-twenty-six year old that twenty five now classes as aging."

"It classes as far too old to be at school, something which I becoming increasingly despondent about the longer we're here."

"Well I'm sure most of the students are more mature than you. Come on, we're losing Dumbledore."

Through years of experience they know that the corridor is a short cut, leading to the passage on which the entrance to Dumbledore's office resides. When they reach him he's standing patiently by the statue.

"Flying Saucer," he mutters, and taps the statue with his wand. It moves to the side and reveals a narrow spiral staircase.

Both the men are familiar with the entrance, Remus having been to see Dumbledore for prefect duties or werewolf problems alongside being reprimanded for pranks with Sirius, James and Peter. Sirius struggles to think of a time he wasn't sent to the office for anything other than being in trouble.

"You two go up and make yourselves comfy," Dumbledore says. "I think you'll find some refreshments, but I can't guarantee they are what they appear. The contents of my fridge have a habit of switching ingredients; don't think they're comfortable in their own skin, awful nuisance." He smiles. "I'll be along shortly."

This time Sirius leads the way, trailing one hand along the wall to allow for the lack of a hand rail. The staircase is lit with sparse lanterns, but it's still dull and he can remember the first time he was sent up, feeling like the climb would never end.

"Reckon he was kidding about the fridge?" Sirius asks, turning to face Remus. He notices Remus' gaze, and grins. "Were you just checking out my arse?"

"No to both questions."

Although it's too dark to see, Sirius can hear Remus blush. "Don't be embarrassed, I'm flattered."

"You're also imagining things," Remus says. He climbs two steps so that he is on the same on as Sirius and they are squashed between the walls. "Not that the idea is completely unfounded, of course."

"Of course." Sirius moves in and gently presses his lips against Remus'.

Remus leans against him, and they kiss for a moment, the stone wall cold against Sirius' back. He's disappointed when Remus pulls away, but then a hand creeps round his waist, and he allows himself to be lead up the stairs. It's awkward to both fit on one step, but the closeness of their bodies is too nice to move away and walk sensibly. The landing opens, and they use the opportunity of space to fall back into each other's arms. Sirius' hands trail down Remus' back, while the latter's are in Sirius' hair, tugging gently at the roots. Sirius pushes Remus against the door, using him to open it. They stumble into the room, joined by the lips.

A small cough alerts them, and they drop each other, pulling away. The occupant of the comfiest chair by the fireplace is none other than Minerva McGonagall. She stands.

"When Dumbledore said you two would drop in at some point I wasn't expecting it quite so literally." She pauses. "Afternoon, Mr Lupin. Mr Black."

Sirius feels her eyes linger on him longer than on Remus, and he guesses what she's thinking. His seven years at Hogwarts taught him that McGonagall rarely acted uncomfortably, even when placed in unexpected situation courtesy of the marauders, yet now she looks distinctly awkward and lost for words. He assumes that she too believed he killed all those people, and now feels guilty. A voice in the back of his head tells him she should, but he ignores it and holds out his hand.

"Professor McGonagall, it's been a while."

"Aye," she says, "that it has. I trust you're both well?" Again her gaze rests on Sirius.

He nods. "Better by the day."

"Good. And for what it's worth I'm glad to hear things have been... resolved. It appears Remus here did a good job."

"He did," Sirius smiles, reaching for Remus' hand.

Remus pulls away. "Sirius."

"Don't let me stop you, boys. Considering what I witnessed upon your entrance into the room, there's no reason to get shy over a harmless bit of handholding."

This time Sirius can see Remus blush, but knowing his old professor is only teasing defiantly grabs Remus' hand and leads him over to the chairs. They each take a seat while McGonagall bustles about by the fridge, cautiously sniffing each item before selecting it.

As she carries the tray over to them over the door opens and Dumbledore strides in.

"Ah, you've sorted the drinks, Minerva. Excellent."

He helps himself to a mug, and both Sirius and Remus can't help but chuckle at McGonagall's expression when she realises her own drink has just been taken.

"Fortunately," Dumbledore begins, nonchalant in regards to the laughter. "or perhaps unfortunately depending which way you see things, I have confirmed what I intended to and now have a better idea of where our journey make take us." He sips at his drink. "Tastes relatively normal for once. Minerva, as we discussed, would you kindly take care of the school for me while we're gone?"

"Of course, Professor."

"And Sirius, Remus, are you still willing to follow me?"

They nod.

"Excellent. Then perhaps we should finish our drinks and get moving. We may have a long journey ahead of us." He takes a seat and a long slurp of his drink.

As McGonagall sighs at her empty tray, Sirius catches Remus' eye. He's certain that for once they're both as curious as each other.