Remus had been right; Sirius staying with him during the full moon made a great deal of difference. It was still a hard night - harder than Sirius had expected. Remus understood and could forgive Sirius's long absence from his life, but the wolf was different. It could not comprehend what it clearly saw as abandonment by its mate, anymore than it could resist the urge for blood. It could only punish. Without the calming influence of the Wolfsbane Potion, there was nothing to check its brutality.

For Sirius, that night was a nightmare of snarls and teeth and ripping claws. It was all he could do to keep the wolf from his throat, while at the same time doing his utmost to demonstrate the submissiveness which might pacify the beast.

When the dawn came and Remus transformed, all Sirius wanted to do was lie down beside him and go to sleep, but it was cold in the cell, and Remus was shivering. Sirius got him to his feet with difficulty, and half-carried him up the steps and into the cottage, murmuring soft words of comfort and encouragement. He got Remus into bed, pulled the blanket up over them, and held him tight until he stopped shaking, and they both fell into an exhausted slumber.

They awoke late in the afternoon. Remus was still weak, and horrified the dozens of scratches and bruises that covered Sirius's body. Sirius told him to hush when he stammered his apology, and kissed him into silence.

The next full moon was no better, and still there was no reply to Remus's request to the Ministry for a new recipe for the Wolfsbane Potion.

"I know they don't give a toss about werewolves," Sirius ranted, "but you'd think they might care a little bit about the damage they can do."

"Of course they do," Remus replied, a bitter edge to his mild voice. "They make sure we won't do any damage by being absolutely clear about what will happen to us if we do. The potion is for our own personal well-being, and you're not wrong to say they couldn't care less about that."

Sirius scowled. "You'd think they could still manage to get it to you in less than two months."

"It doesn't matter, Padfoot. The chances of us being able to get the ingredients here aren't good," Remus reminded him. "Anyway, I imagine the Ministry have their hands full just now with more important matters."

"What's more important than my Moony?" Sirius grumbled, glancing vainly out the window for an incoming owl.

"The Quidditch World Cup, for one."

Sirius's head whipped around. "England's hosting? When? Who's playing?"

Remus grinned weakly at him. "I thought that might get your attention. Bulgaria v Ireland this year, and it's on in a few days' time."

"And you didn't see fit to mention this before now, why?" Sirius's eyes narrowed.

Remus shrugged and winced as the movement jarred his aching bones. "I know how you are about Quidditch. If I'd told you before now, you might have tried to go back for it. And if there's one place you don't need to be, it's in the middle of the largest gathering of witches and wizards in the world."

"I would've been careful," Sirius pouted.

"Padfoot, do you have any idea what security will be like there? They'd pinch you in a second."

"But, Mooooooony!" Sirius made his eyes as big as possible. "Quidditch!"

Sirius had been of the opinion that he ought to stay in bed one more day following the full moon, but Remus suspected that rest was not what he had in mind.

"I've left Banji on his own through the weekend again," Remus reminded him. "He keeps hinting that maybe I should try to reschedule my sick days. I told him I would if I could, but as it is, I shouldn't take any more time off than necessary."

Sirius sighed and told him he would come round in time to walk Remus home from work.

Remus was still somewhat shaky from his transformation, but the sunlight and the leisurely walk into town did him good. By the time he reached the village, he was whistling. There was a reason why he had wanted to get back on his feet as quickly as possible.

Near the dock there was a little shop that sold odds and ends to tourists. Souvenirs and junk food and any small comforts they might have forgotten to bring from home. They also sold small transistor radios, which might, with a little encouragement, be tuned in to the Wizarding Wireless Network.

He really should have picked one up sooner, he knew, to try and keep up with the news, but here on the island he had felt safely removed from any threat. There was no news so important, he felt, that it could not wait to find its way to them at the speed of owl flight.

Entering the bar via the back room door, he greeted Banji cheerfully. When Banji only grunted in reply, rather than his normal friendly enquiries after Remus's well-being, Remus knew something was wrong.

"Everything all right?" he asked. "I know you'd rather I didn't take time off over the weekend, but -"

Banji shook his head. "It's not that, mon. Jus' customers."

Remus raised his eyebrows. Banji was about the most easygoing person he had ever met, taking the quirks and eccentricities of Cat Island's visitors into stride. For a customer to get under his skin was unusual, to say the least.

"What did they do? Excessive drunkenness? Brawling?"

"Nah, nothin' like that," Banji replied. "Dey jus' look at me like I smell bad or somethin'. Like dey wouldn' be talkin' to me if dey could help it."

"Racist, you mean?" Remus asked, surprised. That was an unusual quality among Caribbean tourists, especially ones who bothered to come to the smaller, less posh destinations.

Banji shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe. Dey didn' look like de type, though. Most of de ones you see with tattoos, dey got open minds. But dis bunch - I dunno, maybe a gang or somethin'. Dey all got dese matchin' skulls on their arms, with snakes comin' out at de mouth."

The bottle of rum Remus had been holding shattered on the floor. Banji hurried over and gripped his arm as he swayed alarmingly.

"You all right, Johnny?" Banji asked, forehead creased with worry. "You look like you seen a ghost. Here, you sit down."

He urged Remus into a chair, and brought him a glass of cold fruit juice.

A shiver passed down Remus's spine. "Are they still here?"

"Yeah. I was jus' puttin' off askin' dem for their next round. Why? You know dem?"

"Maybe," Remus said, thinking fast. "Or at least, I know of them. They're - er - a gang, like you said."

"Dangerous?" asked Banji.

"You've never known anything like them, mate," Remus said earnestly. "Listen, whatever you do, don't antagonise them, and don't do anything to draw attention to yourself. All right? Just get them their drinks when they ask, and pray to whatever you find holy that they leave soon and never come back."

"Geez, mon!" Banji whistled. "You think we should call in de police or somethin'?"

Remus shook his head. "Believe me, you do not want the kind of trouble that would cause."

He stood as Banji cleared up the glass from the shattered bottle, and went to peer around the doorframe into the bar.

There were three of them - two men and a woman - sitting with their heads together and talking earnestly. He let out a sigh of relief. None of the faces were familiar. There was a safe chance they wouldn't know him, either, but he wasn't about to draw their attention to himself any more than necessary.

"Why did dey come here, Johnny?" Banji asked softly, peering over his shoulder.

"I don't know," Remus lied. They're here for the same reason we are; a place without magic - without witnesses. A place where they can feel safe, hiding in plain sight.

He ducked back into the room.

"I don't recognise them," he told Banji. "But just on the off-chance, I don't want them looking too closely at me, so I think you'd better keep serving them. If you're okay with that?"

Banji nodded, grim faced. "Anythin' else I should know?"

"Just - if you happen to overhear anything, even if it doesn't seem to make sense, tell me."

"Spyin', is it?" Banji gave him a twisted half-smile. "All right, den. You keep to de bar, an' I'll make sure dey don' leave their table."

It was a long, nerve-wracking evening for Remus. He tried to keep his eyes on what he was doing, but he couldn't help glancing at the corner table every few minutes. Once, his eyes caught those of the woman, and he looked back down quickly, heart pounding. Next time he dared to flicker his eyes their way, she had dismissed him, returning to her conversation. His sigh of relief made the customer whose drink he was mixing give him a curious look.

At last, as the sun began to set, the three rose from their seats. Remus's eyes followed them out of the bar, until they turned the corner and were out of sight.

Banji came to lean on the bar beside him. "You all right, Johnny?"

Remus gave him a wry smile. "Better now."

"You were right," said Banji. "What dey were talkin' about didn' make much sense to me, but I'll tell you what I heard. I don' think dey're gonna be on de island long. Dey mentioned gettin' back in time for de World Cup, or dey would miss all de fun. But dey can't have been meanin' de football."

Remus went white at that. "They're planning something for the World Cup? I'll never get a message to Dumbledore in time!" When Banji only gave him a curious look, he said, "What else?"

"Not much," Banji admitted. "I didn' feel like hangin' around, after what you said."

"Can't say I blame you," Remus agreed.

"But I did hear dem make a toast. To de Dark Lord. Is dat their leader?"

Remus shuddered. "He was. Most people think he's dead, but not everyone."

"Not you," Banji deduced. He put a hand on Remus's arm. "What did dey do to you, Johnny?"

Remus turned eyes dark with memory toward his friend. "You remember what I told you, about how Sir- how Simon and I were separated for a while?"

Banji nodded.

"It was them. They - killed two of our best friends, and they made me and everyone else think that - that Simon had done it. And I believed it for thirteen years."

Banji gave a long, low whistle. "Is dat why you're here? Hidin' from dem?"

Remus shook his head. "Not just them. There's only a few of us who know Simon's innocent. He's still a wanted man."

"You have my word dat no one will know your secret from me, Johnny," Banji said solemnly.

"I know." Remus laid his other hand on top of Banji's. "I wouldn't have told you if I didn't think you were a friend."

"But -" Banji's brow furrowed. "If Simon is a wanted man, won' dey maybe recognise him?"

Remus gave him a stricken look. "Oh, God. Banji, I'm sorry. I have to go."

Banji nodded. "It's all right, mon. I'll be seein' you tomorrow."

Remus was not quite up to jogging so soon after the full moon, but he set out at a fast walk down the beach, and met Sirius on his way in to walk him home from work.

"He let you off early, Moony? What -?"

Without slowing his pace, Remus grabbed his arm and turned him back the way he had come.

"Is something wrong, Moony?"

"Death Eaters. At the bar," Remus said grimly. "We're going home, and you're staying there until I'm sure they've left the island."

Sirius stopped in his tracks. "Death Eaters? Here? Why?"

"Why do you think?" Remus asked impatiently. "Why are we here? It's a safe place. But not for us anymore."

"But they don't know we're here, do they?" said Sirius, looking thoughtfully back toward town.

"And they're not going to."

"But Moony!" Sirius's eyes were shining with excitement. "If they don't know we're here, and they're off their guard, we could capture them!"

"And get them back to England how, exactly?" Remus crossed his arms and gave Sirius a long look down his nose.

Sirius ignored him. "It's been ages since I had a good duel," he said, flicking an imaginary wand and skipping back and forth across the sand. "Three, you said? We could take three easily, especially if they weren't expecting us."

"Well, we're not going to," Remus insisted.

Sirius skipped a circle around him, and ended with his imaginary wand pointed at Remus's nose.

"Stop that, Padfoot," he said sharply. "They didn't know me, but your face has been in nearly every issue of the Daily Prophet since last August, and on posters all over Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. Do you think there's even the slightest chance they wouldn't recognise you?"

"I've been meaning to ask," said Sirius, poking Remus's disapproving nose, "can we get one of those posters framed?

"Sirius!"

"C'mon Moony! New haircut, nice tan, and I'm not nearly so bony as I was! They might think, 'Who's that handsome devil?' but they couldn't think it was me!" .

Remus was quickly losing his reserve. "I can't see how you don't take this more seriously, Sirius. Do you know how easily they could get a message off to the Ministry, letting them know you're here? And me with you?"

"How else can I take anything but 'Sirius-ly'?" he laughed. "Calm down, Moony. You think I'm going to let some junior lackey of old Moldywart get the best of me?"

"It wouldn't be the first time," Remus snapped. "I cannot believe you're being so fucking juvenile about this, Sirius. Did you learn nothing from twelve years in Azkaban and a year on the run? If you won't be careful, I will, by God, drag you home and lock you in that damn cell until I'm sure they've gone."

Sirius leaned close, batting his eye lashes. "I don't mind when you play rough."

Remus's hand shot out and grasped Sirius's arm in a grip like iron. He set off down the beach, Sirius half-stumbling after him, ignoring his protests. When they reached the cottage, Remus thrust Sirius through the front door, shouting, "Bloody well stay there!", and slamming it behind him, before storming off down the path.

He had forgotten how maddening Sirius could be about risk and danger. Remus had always been the careful one, even in their school days, going along with pranks more because he enjoyed the friendship of the other boys than for the sake of the pranks themselves. Sirius, though, had always been one for testing the limits and blowing raspberries in the face of doom.

But how could he still be like that, now that he knew without any doubt what the real dangers were? Azkaban. Dementors. Persecution. Separation from all he held most dear. The loss of his soul. Damn him! How could he do it?

Remus wasn't really angry, he had to admit to himself after several minutes of seething into the darkness; he was bloody terrified. The precious joy of the past few months could so easily be snatched away.

How could he have lulled himself into believing they were safe? Nowhere was safe. The war had ended for everyone else thirteen years ago, but for Remus Lupin, it would never stop, so long as Sirius was a wanted man - so long as there were still Death Eaters hatching their sinister schemes.

Remus stood still and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. The night around him was filled with the sounds of insects humming, night birds calling to one another, the rustle of a warm breeze through the palm trees, the distant rush of waves on the beach. When he opened his eyes, he saw stars filling the night sky. He breathed in the peace of the night, and it filled him with calm.

Moment by moment, he told himself. I need not be at war all the time, but if the moment comes, I will be ready for it. And the peaceful moments, I will take as well, and treasure each one for the rare creature that it is, for any one could be the last.

With that thought, he turned his steps toward home.

The house was dark when Remus returned, and Sirius was asleep - or pretending to be - in the bed. Hesitating a moment, Remus turned toward the sofa with a sigh. If Sirius was truly asleep, he did not want to wake him and risk re-entangling himself in their argument. He was too tired for that.

He was just beginning to settle into sleep himself, when a sound woke him. He held his breath, listening.

"No, please!" he heard Sirius's voice moan from the bedroom. "No no no no, please don't!"

Remus rose silently from the sofa, reaching for his wand, and tiptoed to the bedroom.

"Lumos," he whispered.

By the wandlight, he saw only Sirius, still asleep, clearly in the throes of a nightmare. The light glinted from his tearstained face. Remus hurried to the bed and grasped him by the shoulders.

"Padfoot! Padfoot, wake up! You're dreaming."

Sirius's eyes sprang open, round with terror. "Moony! Don't let them -"

Remus sat down on the bed and gathered Sirius into his arms. "It's all right, Padfoot. It was just a dream."

For a moment, Sirius just breathed, his forehead pressed against Remus's shoulder.

"What was it?" Remus asked softly.

"Dementors," Sirius whispered. "All around. And they - I kept telling them it was me they wanted, but they took you, and -" He heaved a great, sobbing sigh. "Moony, I'm scared."

Remus gave him a squeeze. "That's the first sensible thing you've said all day."

Sirius gave a sniffly laugh. "That's my Moony; full up with affection and sympathy."

Remus took him by the shoulders and held him away, searching his eyes. "Does this mean you're ready to be careful?" he asked seriously. "If not for yourself, then for me? Please, Padfoot. I couldn't bear to lose you again. I can't fight the whole world, and you, too."

Reluctantly, Sirius nodded.

"Thank you," Remus said with heartfelt sincerity, and pulled him close for a kiss.

He was exhausted, but he knew there was one more thing they had to do before he could climb into bed beside Sirius and accept the moment of peace he was offered.

"We need to get in touch with Dumbledore," he reminded Sirius. "What's the quickest way we can get a message to him without Floo Powder? The World Cup is in just a few days' time."

Sirius looked thoughtful. "I'd think a Patronus would be the fastest and surest way."

Remus slapped himself theatrically on the forehead. "A Patronus! Why didn't I think of that, when I've been doing them all year?"

"It's a good thing you've got me around to remind you," Sirius grinned.

"Yes it is," said Remus warmly. "A very, very good thing."

And looking deep into Sirius's eyes, where all his happiness lay, he raised his wand. "Expecto Patronum."

The great, silver dog leapt forth and stood, awaiting its instructions.