Disclaimer: Jo is a possible nickname for me. Does that mean I own it?

It was late, and the pub was dark. Only a few patrons were still there, sitting huddled in their private corners. Tom the bartender was the only one paying attention as Narcissa Malfoy re-emerged down the stairs, her hood drawn up to obscure her face, her gait confident and sure. The real surprise was the one following her; ragged, tattered old Remus Lupin, with patched clothes and greying hair. Tom watched the strange duo leave his bar, his eyebrows raised, and then he shrugged. What his customers did wasn't really any of his business, after all.

His slouched posture belying his alert eyes, Remus watched Narcissa carefully as he followed her out in the alley that led to Diagon Alley. The woman turned and offered her arm with a smile, and Remus had no doubt that they were about to apparate. He gave her a calculating look, trying detect any signs of deceit. He found none, and with a tired sigh he took the woman's offered arm in his own. Narcissa smiled, just a hint of victory playing in her eyes, and then they were pressed through a miniscule tube, pressing their air out of their lungs. When Remus opened his eyes again he was standing in the foyer of Malfoy Manor.

"This way," Narcissa said, leaving Remus no time to admire his surroundings. She led him to a fire-place, and then gestured towards it. "This is the only way for you to get there," she explained.

Nodding, Remus began to look around for floo-powder. "Where do I go?"

Smiling, the blonde took a handful of floo-powder from a cup on the mantel and stepped into the fire-place, gesturing for him to join her. "I had better come with you," she explained at his suspicious look. She waited patiently for him to step into the fire-place beside her, and once they were standing side by side, she threw the floo-powder onto the ground, loudly saying the name of their destination: "Grimmauld Place 12."

As they were whisked away, Remus couldn't help but wonder what could have compelled Sirius to return to his hated childhood home.

Harry and Sirius were sitting in the living room, Harry in his usual chair, Sirius slumped down on the couch. The man had buried his head in his hands, and had been sitting like that since they came home from Cassiopeia. Harry was naturally worried, but this time he didn't know what he could do to make things better, so he just curled up in his chair, wrapping his arms around his legs, hoping something would happen that would take Sirius mind off things.

Someone must've listened to him, because suddenly the fire-place flared, and two people stepped out. Harry immediately recognized Narcissa, but he had never seen the other man before. He was as tall as Narcissa, with greying, light brown hair and amber eyes. His clothes looked well-worn and tattered.

Sirius, his head still in his hands, didn't even bother to look up. "What do you want?" he muttered, knowing the visitors would be one of the Blacks.

A small smile appeared on Narcissa's lips. "There's someone I think you'd like to meet, dear cousin," she told him, glancing at the man beside her. "And old... friend."

Something in her voice made Sirius frown, and he hesitated for a second, almost afraid to look up. Steeling himself, he raised his gaze, and his eyes fell onto the form of someone he hadn't seen since before James and Lily had been killed.

"Remus," he mumbled, his mouth suddenly dry, his eyes wide with surprise.

Remus swallowed nervously. "Hello, Sirius. Long time, no see."

Giving the two men a knowing look, Narcissa smiled. "Why don't I tuck Harry into bed and read him a bedtime story," she said, "so you two can talk things out, hm?"

Startled, Remus' eyes suddenly flicked over to Harry, as if he hadn't noticed him until now. "Is - is that..?" he whispered, his voice dry.

"It is," Narcissa confirmed, walking over to the child. "You can talk to him as much as you want to tomorrow. Come on, Harry. Time for bed." She held out her hand towards the child, which he hesitantly accepted. They walked out the room together, Harry sending one last, worried glance at Sirius and the stranger before he let Narcissa lead him away.

Stepping into Harry's room, Narcissa smiled in approval at the decor. "Change into your pyjamas, dear," she ordered, politely turning away to give the boy some privacy.

Harry coughed uncomfortably. "Uh," he mumbled, making the woman turn around again, "P-Padfoot usually changes my clothes with m-magic."

One delicate eyebrow rising, Narcissa gave the boy a surprised look. A horrible suspicion began to creep up in her mind. "Are those," she gestured towards his tattered rags, "all the clothes you own?" She made an effort to keep her voice neutral, not wanting to alienate the boy.

Blushing, Harry nodded, avoiding her gaze. Narcissa felt something tug at her heart-strings as the child looked as if she was about to scold him for not owning any more clothes.

"Well, then," she said in a no-nonsense tone. "This time I will have to change them for you." Without wasting any time she procured her wand from the sleeve of her robe, and with an effortless flick of her wrist she changed his clothes into elegant, dark green satin pyjamas, smiling in satisfaction at the child. "There," she said. "Now, time to get into bed."

Harry quickly climbed into his bed, pulling the covers up to his ears, his eyes wide as he stared at her. Narcissa shook her head with a small smile and gently tugged the covers down to reveal his face properly. She sat down on the bed, gently stroking his hair.

The child looked up at her with intensely green eyes. "Y-you don't have to tell me a bedtime story if you don't want to," he mumbled, and Narcissa couldn't help but feel like he was apologizing to her.

"Don't you want me to?" she questioned quietly, carefully watching as the child made an attempt to hide in the covers.

"I don't want to be a bother," he mumbled so lowly Narcissa had to strain herself to make out the words.

Frowning, Narcissa realized she had nothing to say to that, and her heart broke all over again, anger welling up inside of her at the thought of the horrible muggles that must've made Harry like this. She was even tempted to go see them herself and give them a piece of her mind, and possibly a curse or two. Most likely a curse or two. Okay, she'd hex them into the next century.

"Wh-who is that one who came with you?" the child suddenly asked, voice wary and apprehensive.

Realizing the child must be afraid of being left out, Narcissa smiled softly. "He is an old friend of Sirius'," she explained in a kind voice. "They went to school together."

"Was he..?"

"Yes," Narcissa confirmed, "he was friends with your parents, as well."

Harry nodded, and shifted a bit to lie more comfortably. "Will he - will he take Padfoot away?" His voice was small and fragile, vulnerable.

Narcissa made an effort to smile as reassuringly as she could. "No, dear," she said, leaning down to give him a soft kiss on the forehead, "no, he will not." She was going to make sure of that, herself. "Now it's time for you to sleep, sweetie." She gave him a soft pat on the head, gently stroking his hair, and smiled down at him.

The child hesitantly answered with a smile of his own, and Narcissa rose from the bed. When she was at the door, she heard a small whisper. "G'night, 'Cissa," the sleepy child murmured.

Narcissa glanced over her shoulder, smile still playing on her lips. "Good night, dear."

As soon as Narcissa and the child had disappeared from view, Remus turned his amber eyes onto Sirius again. His old friend looked gaunt; his clothes hung loosely on his bony frame, and his cheeks were dark hollows. Still, there was a spark of life in his eyes, a spark Remus recognized from before - before everything bad happened. He seemed wary, hesitant - almost afraid - and Remus couldn't help but wonder just what seven years in Azkaban had done to his old friend. Seven innocent years, he mentally corrected himself, and felt a pang of guilt well up in his chest.

"Was that," he mumbled, swallowing nervously, thinking of the child Narcissa had led away, "was that... Harry?" Sirius nodded, and Remus frowned in confusion. "Wasn't he supposed to stay with his relatives - with Lily's sister?"

Sirius' countenance darkened, and Remus got a silly notion that the room had suddenly grown colder. "I'm never letting him go back to them," he growled out, eyes dark with fury.

"But surely Dumbledore-"

"Don't you dare mention his name here like he's some kind of saint," Sirius interrupted, half-shouting. "It's his fault I - that I..." All air seemed to leave his body at once, and he slouched, letting his hair fall over his face. "He knew, Moony," he said. "He knew all along that we changed the secret-keeper."

Ah, there it was - the subject Remus had secretly been trying to avoid. "What do you mean?" he asked, a feeling of dread slowly creeping up his spine.

"Just what I said," the escaped prisoner snapped. "Dumbledore was there when we changed to Wormtail."

Remus swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Sirius' shoulders slouched even more, and he looked almost apologetic as he glanced up at his childhood friend. "I thought you were the traitor," he confessed, looking abashed, "and convinced Prongs and Lils not to tell you, just in case." A humourless chuckle left his lips, an sardonic exhalation of air. "Bloody good that did."

Feeling numb as his mind connected all the dots, Remus shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. "So we both suspected each other of being the traitor?"

A faint, sheepish smile tugged at the corners of Sirius' lips. "Seems that way, yeah. A bit silly, in retrospect, but there's not much to be done about that now, is there?"

Remus couldn't quite get how Sirius could be so - so carefree about the whole thing. "Merlin, Sirius," he mumbled, "I am so sorry, and I - I understand if you can't forgive me." He knew he wouldn't be able to forgive himself for suspecting one of his best friends.

The gaunt man looked up at his friend in surprise. "Forgive you for what? Being reasonable?"

"For thinking you were a traitor," Remus corrected, even sounding a little stern. "For not questioning things back then. For just... believing whatever they told me."

Sirius waved it all away with his hand. "No one is blaming you, Moony. Heck, even I thought I was guilty there for a while."

Remus stared at him. "How can you just brush this away like it's nothing!" He just couldn't understand why the man was so - so bloody cheerful.

Something that suddenly appeared in Sirius' eyes almost made Remus stumble back a step. That cold, hard look that had never been a part of a young Sirius disturbed him far more than anything else, and another wave of guilt welled up inside of him. One could only imagine what Sirius had had to go through in his years at Azkaban; what the dementors had done to him.

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment, and then Remus sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, Sirius," he said, looking at his old friend with sad eyes. "For everything."

There was a tense moment of silence where Remus was certain Sirius would refuse to forgive him, but then the gaunt man smiled. "Water under the bridge," he said, holding out his hand. "Friends?"

Remus felt himself smile, and gladly accepted the offered hand. "Friends."

Letting out a relieved laugh, Sirius pulled his old friend into a rough, one-armed hug, and at that moment Narcissa walked into the room.

"I see you two are working things out," she said with a small smile playing on her lips.

Letting go of Remus, Sirius grinned broadly at Narcissa. "Did everything go well with Prongslet?"

"Oh, yes," the blonde woman assured him. "He's such a polite child."

"Don't worry, I'm going to help him out of that as soon as I can." Sirius grin was wide enough to split his face in two.

Narcissa gave him an arched look, one elegant eyebrow raised, but she let the comment slide. "You are going to get him new clothes," she then ordered. "I will not stand for him having to wear those horrible muggle rags any longer."

"Hey, it's not like I've had the possibility to do that, you know," Sirius defended himself. "Or do you say I should've snuck out more often?"

Ignoring his grin, Narcissa continued. "I might have some of Draco's old clothes left, but as soon as you're freed you are going to take that boy shopping, and you will get him a respectable wardrobe. Am I clear?"

"Crystal," Sirius said, mock-saluting her.

Eyes narrowing and mouth pursed, Narcissa sent a non-verbal jelly-legs jinx her cousin's way, and as he wobbled down onto the floor with a surprised curse she turned to Remus, who was watching them with apprehensive amusement. "Will you be staying here?" she asked politely.

Remus opened his mouth to respond, but was beaten to it by a still grinning Sirius. "'Course he is," the man said, propping himself up on his elbows. "We've got enough rooms."

Smiling, Narcissa nodded as Remus gave her a small smile in response. "I shall leave you two to it, then," she said, walking over to the fire-place. "Oh, and Remus? I promised Harry that you would not take Sirius away from him; I fully expect that promise to be kept. Do we understand each other?"

Blinking, the ragged man nodded. "Y-yes ma'am," he assured her almost on reflex. He then sent a well-aimed kick Sirius' way in an attempt to stop the man on the floor from laughing. All he got was a complained "Ouch," and more snickers.

Lucius gave his wife a pained look. "Your great-aunt is coming over again?"

Frowning at him, Narcissa carefully pulled out robes for the day out of her wardrobe. "Don't sound like that," she admonished him, ignoring the fact that she, too had some troubles with the elderly witch. "Cassiopeia is a respectable witch."

"A respectable harpy, more like it," Lucius muttered, and then dodged as Narcissa tried to swat him over the head with her hand. "All right, all right," he sighed, "I'll play nice as long as she does."

Knowing that she wouldn't get her husband to promise anything more, Narcissa nodded. "Thank you, dear," she said and gave him a peck on the cheek. Quickly dressing, she then left their bedroom, leaving Lucius behind.

Lucius watched his wife leave, a small smile on his face, and then returned to his clothes with a sigh. He was going to have to dress even more impeccably - how that would even be possible he did not know - than usual, knowing that his wife's great-harpy would not hesitate to point out any mistakes, no matter how miniscule. Once he was pleased, he gave himself a last look-over in the mirror, and then went to join his wife for breakfast.

Taking a sip from her cup of tea, Narcissa silently made plans to harm her husband. Almost as soon as Cassiopeia had arrived, Lucius had announced that he unfortunately couldn't keep them company, as he had several important meetings with his lawyers to attend to. Narcissa, knowing that her darling husband hadn't had anything planned for that day, could only watch as the slimy bastard escaped through the floo, leaving her all alone with the queen of snarkiness. She made a mental note to make sure Lucius punishment was humiliating.

"Naturally," she said out loud in response to what Cassiopeia had been telling her.

Cassiopeia gave her great-niece a knowing look. "You haven't been listening to a word I've been saying, have you, dear?"

"Of course I have, great-aunt," Narcissa countered in the same, automatic-response tone as before. "How could I not, with a conversation this enticing?"

The elderly woman harrumphed indignantly. "What do you suggest we speak off, then, since gossip is clearly not good enough for you?"

Narcissa raised an eyebrow at her great-aunt. "Why are you here, Cassiopeia?" she asked.

"Can't an old lady visit her family without being scrutinized?"

"You don't like me, great-aunt," Narcissa reminded the old woman.

Cassiopeia scoffed. "Nonsense, dear," she assured her. "It's your husband I can't stand."

"Because he is a Malfoy."

"Quite right, darling." Cassiopeia sipped at her tea.

Narcissa sighed. "As am I."

The look Cassiopeia gave her was contemplative, calculating, and it made Narcissa feel like a little girl again. "Only by name, dear," the old woman said. "Only by name."

Had Narcissa had a lesser upbringing, she might've dropped her tea, her surprise written clearly over her features. However, being the delicate lady that she was, she simply raised an eyebrow at her aunt, hoping her eyes did not reveal her shock.

"Have you visited Sirius lately, dear?" Cassiopeia suddenly asked, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Narcissa had to give herself a moment to compose herself. "Y-yes," she answered, mentally cursing her shaky voice. "I was there last night."

"That's wonderful, love. How is he?"

"He is... getting better," Narcissa responded after a slight pause, giving her great-aunt an odd look. "Though I am certain there is still quite a while until he will be over the trauma of the whole ordeal."

Cassiopeia hummed in response, drinking her tea. "Yes, yes I suppose it is. Nasty things, dementors."

"Quite so."

Silence settled over them again, a heavy, suffocating silence that held more questions than answers. Narcissa calmly sipped her tea. "I plan to drop by later today," she confessed, careful not to look at her great-aunt. "I have some old clothes of Draco's for Harry."

"Do you, now?" the elderly woman questioned, and Narcissa didn't even have to look to know that she had raised her eyebrows.

"I've ordered Sirius to buy Harry some new ones as soon as possible, of course, but until then they will have to make do with hand-me-downs. It's not like they are going to be seen in public, after all."

Cassiopeia hummed in agreement, and silence fell over them again. Narcissa thought for a moment, an idea forming in her head, and glanced at her great-aunt. She was surprised she had come up with the idea in the first place, and for a second she considered discarding the whole thing.

"Would you like to come along?"

If Cassiopeia was surprised, she hid it well, and as the silence stretched on Narcissa began to doubt herself. Then the old woman spoke. "That would be lovely, dear. When are we leaving?"

A/N: Aaand another chapter is up. Woohoo! Also, spell-check thinks we'll all splinch (or, rather, linchpin) ourselves - it called "apparate" separate. And Draco will never get to own anything, "Draco's" is apparently supposed to be "Drachma's." I'm not sure who this Drachma is, but I think it's quite rude of him to take Draco's things.