Epilogue:

August 1995

There were times when he was certain his old friend had gone round the bend.

This was one of those times. Bracing himself, Remus Lupin paused just outside the ring of candlelight. "Padfoot? It's two in the morning."

Sirius shrugged, not looking away from the tapestry displaying his family's genealogy. "Not like I'm going anywhere tomorrow," he said sourly.

Remus noticed the half-empty bottle of fire whiskey beside Sirius and tried not to wince. The overprotective side of him wanted to march in and take the bottle, but his logical side told him that it wouldn't do any good. He should just go to bed and leave Sirius to wallow in his misery alone. It wasn't like anything he said or did was going to make a difference. Even when they were kids, when Sirius would get into one of his depressive funks, nothing would bring him out of it. After spending years in Azkaban, the funks were more pronounced and longer lasting…and just as impossible to break. Remus sighed, stepped into the room, and took a seat on the floor beside his friend. "What are we doing?" He always was a sucker for the impossible.

"Thinking," Sirius replied, his eyes still on the tapestry. "I hate all of them, you know."

"I know," Remus said. "Harry said you were telling him about them this afternoon."

"Yeah." Sirius shrugged. "He asked about Mum and Dad and Regulus." He made a face. "Worthless, the lot of them."

"I never really met your Dad, but I won't disagree about your Mum." While he'd only spoken to Mrs. Black once during her life, she'd made it quite clear that he was not welcome in her house. Apparently, half-bloods were unacceptable playmates for her children. Remus always wondered what she'd have done if he'd told her he was a werewolf. Of course, that question was more or less answered now thanks to Sirius's dark sense of humor and the painting in the hall. He frowned as he studied the tapestry. "Not sure if I'd call your brother worthless, though. He tried to get out in the end, didn't he?"

Sirius snorted. "That's what Andromeda told me. He got cold feet. Voldemort had someone kill him."

Remus didn't dare look at Sirius. "Do you think it's because Voldemort found out about Catherine?"

Sirius became completely still and Remus knew he'd asked the one question too many. While James Potter's death topped list of Topics Never To Be Discussed, followed closely by Lily and then Peter's betrayal, he was well aware that the topic of Catherine O'Neal also fell on that list. After a prolonged period of silence, Sirius finally asked, "What do you mean by that?"

In for a penny, in for a pound."I've long suspected that Regulus was the Death Eater that rescued her from Bellatrix that night," Remus told him. "Catherine always insisted he looked like you. She had a good eye for detail. Besides, what other Death Eater looks like you?"

"You mean other than me," Sirius said darkly. "Considering that everyone believes I am a Death Eater. Sold James and Lily to Voldemort. Murdered Peter and all those Muggles. Escaped Azkaban using the Dark Arts that I learned at Voldemort's knee." He laughed, the sound more frightening than joyful. "And don't say that no one believes that, Moony, because youbelieved it. Still would if it weren't for Harry and that damned Map."

Part of him wanted to apologize. Once he learned the truth, he'd hated himself for thinking ill of his friend, of living – or at least existing - in the free world while Sirius sat behind bars for a murder he didn't commit. Another part of him wanted to point out that Sirius had believed he was the one trying to sell James and Lily to Voldemort, and to stop being a damned hypocrite. After all, if Sirius had just trusted him the way friends were supposedto trust each other, none of this would have happened to begin with. Fortunately, the logical part of his mind over-ruled everything else and he kept his mouth shut.

"I can only imagine what she thought." Sirius muttered, more to himself. "Must have felt like a fool. Thought I'd played her. It's the perfect ruse, isn't it? Nobody would suspect that the guy with the Muggle girlfriend would be a spy for Voldemort."

"I wouldn't know what she thought about you going to Azkaban for murder," Remus said evenly, keeping his eyes trained on the tapestry, "Since she doesn't know."

Sirius became still again. "Start talking."

Remus sighed. "I intendedto tell her what a bastard you were. After the funerals, I had to get out of here. I was falling apart. Dumbledore found me this job opportunity in Pompeii. It didn't pan out, what with me being a werewolf and all, but while I was there, I took a trip to Rome. I was angry and hurt and confused, and I was going to tell her everything. I figured she deserved to know what you did." Remus finally looked over at Sirius, who was staring intently at his bottle of fire whiskey. "When she opened the door, she took one look at me, and assumed I was there to tell her you were dead. She completely fell apart, Pads." He paused, "At the time, I thought it was less cruel to let her believe you had been killed by Voldemort than to tell her what we all believed to be the truth."

Sirius said nothing for a long time. After what seemed like hours, he looked at Remus. "Thank you," he said softly.

He narrowed his eyes. "It wasn't done out of friendship. It was done out of pity. It's not something you should thank me for."

"All the same…I'm glad she never had to think…I did love her, Moony." Sirius sighed. "I know I don't want to know, but now that we're, well, talking about it, I have to…do you know what happened to her?"

"We exchanged letters for a few years." Remus told him. "She eventually got a job teaching art in Canada and we lost touch."

"Canada." An odd, almost ironic look appeared on Sirius's face. He picked up his bottle of fire whiskey and took a long swig before returning to his study of the tapestry. "Moony? We aren't going to get a Happily Ever After, are we?"

Remus sighed. Ever since Voldemort returned, that question had been laying heavily on his mind. He couldn't really see a way things would end happily. "No," he finally said. "No, you and I aren't going to get a Happily Ever After."

Sirius lay back on the floor and stared at the ceiling. "What are we doing this for?" He finally asked. "Why are we even bothering to fight? What difference will it make in the end? When people like the Malfoys are happy and James and Lily are six feet under the ground in Godric's Hollow?"

It was a question he'd wrestled with over and over and over again. And there really was only one answer. "Because James and Lily would want Harry to get a Happily Ever After. He doesn't have to live in Voldemort's world. It's too late for us, but it's not too late for him."

Sirius pondered that for several minutes before sitting up and picking up his bottle once again. He raised it in the air and looked at Remus. "To Harry, then." He took a long swig from the bottle and passed it to Remus.

Remus took a quick mouthful and winced at the strength of the drink. Blinking, he handed the bottle back to Sirius. "To Harry."