A/N: Hey, y'all! I'm back for more. :) Thanks to everyone who followed/reviewed/favorited, and thanks to everyone who has read this story. Your support means a lot to me. So, without further ado, here's the next chapter. Tell me what you guys think. :)

Happy Thanksgiving!

Not the last chapter!

Enjoy!

Chapter 11

Sirius sat at his kitchen table, in the apartment he and Harry shared. He stared unblinkingly at the mug of untouched hot chocolate on front of him. He hadn't made hot chocolate since that night, because it reminded him of the man who had loved it so much. The man who had betrayed Lily and James.

But had he?

Sirius had hoped that by making the hot chocolate, the Remus-smell would trigger something, or unlock a clue, so he could know for sure whether helping Remus was the right thing. After all, Remus had once sworn that chocolate could solve all of Earth's mysteries. And that it had healing properties- the man used to eat it by the dozen after full moon transformations.

Unfortunately, the hot chocolate was not speaking to Sirius.

"And now I know that I'm the crazy one," Sirius groaned, putting his head in his hands. Then he looked at the hot chocolate again. He scowled. "Moony was wrong about you. You don't help at all."

No response.

Sirius sighed and stood up. As he did so, however, his hip knocked into the table, and as Sirius leapt to still it, the hot chocolate wobbled and spilled.

Cursing, Sirius grabbed some paper towels and began mopping the mess up. The brown liquid had reached an impressive distance across the floor, and left Sirius wondering why he hadn't just used magic.

As he stood up, however, his head hit a shelf, breaking it, and the books stacked on it fell off.

"Damn!" Sirius yelped as a large cookbook nailed his shoulder. Merlin, today was not his day.

He gathered up the books, most of which he hadn't read in years- some he didn't even recognize. His hand froze, however, when he realized what book he was currently holding.

The crazy pirate adventure by the Muggle author.

A.k.a. Treasure Island, by Robert Louis Stevenson.

The one Lily had made him read.

The book he'd been enjoying right before he saw the Dark Mark in the sky.

With trembling hands, he opened to the first blank page.

Sirius-

I know you aren't the biggest reader, but this is a Muggle classic- a great way to annoy your parents, right? Anyway, I think you'll like it- it's got danger and excitement, suspense and sorrow- just the way you like life. Minus the sorrow bit. Give it a try, please? For your favorite sort-of sister-in-law? If you read it and hate it, you can have a couple galleons. Happy 21st Birthday!

-Lily

She had tucked a longer letter in there, and Sirius took it out to read it.

Dear Sirius,

So, today, you turn twenty-one. Congratulations! You're getting old- and yes, and am well aware that next month, I'll be joining you. Let me laugh while I can.

I am writing in the hopes that ten years from now, you can look back on this and remember what were- hopefully- hard times, and reflect on how much better your life has gotten. For, surely, this war can't last that long.

As you know, James and I have gone into hiding to protect Harry. We really hope you'll agree to be godfather. Anyway, you must know that while we trust you inexplicably, we cannot tell you who the Secret-Keeper is. We respect your decision not to be- no hard feelings, I promise! Asking you to put yourself through such danger was hard enough. I must admit, a part of me was relieved that you had refused.

It's a bit amusing, really, watching everyone try to figure out who our Secret-Keeper is- I think you think it's Remus, Remus thinks we forced it upon you or something, Marlene thinks it's Dumbledore- even Mundungus told me he thought it was Mad-Eye.

Perhaps, I should hint to someone about the true identity of the Secret-Keeper. Although, that may be unwise, just in case this letter gets in the wrong hands. But I like to think that I'm too clever for them to figure out my clues. But you, Sirius- you are clever enough to figure me out! You're the one who told me to ask James out in 7th year, because you knew I was beginning to like him.

Everything has changed since then, hasn't it? I miss the laughter, and the smiles. I know you four- you Marauders- miss your mischief. Once this war is over I promise- you can prank me as often as you like, and I won't get mad- as long as it is reversible.

Thank you for being there for me over these past few years. I know we've never gotten along particularly well, but since we've graduated, you become something of a brother to me. I love you, Sirius- but don't you go giving James any misguided ideas!

Everyone, I think, needs a Moony, Prongs, Padfoot, and Wormtail in their life. Very random, I know, but it's true. I love the four of you- James is my lover, but you three are my brothers. You all are great for a laugh, or even serious conversation- but before you laugh at my expense, yes, I know I made a Sirius pun. Hilarious. Even funnier after about eleven years of knowing each other. (Note the sarcasm)

Really, though, take care Sirius. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you. And remember- if anything were to happen to me or James, Harry will need you. I know you won't let me down. Just don't kill my son during some absurd broomstick stunt.

Well, I'll let you get back to your (most likely obnoxious) birthday party. Remember what I've said, Sirius. Also, keep in mind: It's never too look back, or to fix one's mistakes. Forgiveness comes in many different forms.

All my love,

Lily

A tear splashed onto a spot by Lily's name. Sirius took a shuddering breath. How he missed that redhead with a temper to match a Hungarian Horntail whose eggs had been threatened.

Sighing, Sirius replaced the letter in the book, standing up. He picked the- thankfully unbroken- empty mug up off the ground, the lingering smell of chocolate in the air reminding him of why he had poured himself the drink in the first place.

Too bad it hadn't given him the answers he was looking for.

Something in the letter caught his eye. Something Lily had written...

But I like to think that I'm too clever for them to figure out my clues.

But you, Sirius- you are clever enough to figure me out!

I should hint to someone about the true identity of the Secret-Keeper.

Remus used to love solving puzzles in school. There were a million different codes, and a million ways to crack them. Once Remus had shown him a simple yet effective Muggle code...

He scanned the letter. Yes. There it was. Five of the paragraphs, the first one talking about the Secret-Keeper, spelled out a word. Or, rather, the first letter of those five paragraphs did.

Peter.

Bloody hell.

"Your hair is weird."

Tonks rolled her eyes. She had disguised herself as a Hufflepuff second year, a decision she was regretting. Her hair wasn't even a strange color- just dark red. Lots of girls here had the same color. She turned her blue-eyed and freckled face towards the girl who had spoken- Pokey, or something.

"Yeah? How come?"

Pokey tilted her head. "It's too... poofy."

Tonks stared at her. Poofy? Her hair was too poofy? Pokey's looked as though she had just stuck her finger in one of those Muggle elektratic thingies!

This was why that girl didn't have any friends and had felt the need to latch onto a poor, unsuspecting Tonks.

Tonks quirked an eyebrow. "Really."

Pokey shrugged, frizzy blonde hair sticking up in all directions. "Yeah. Just thought you should know. So you can fix it. It makes you look ugly."

That was it. Tonks pointed a finger at Pokey. "I've had enough of you! Always nagging, always criticizing- don't you know the expression 'if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all'? Well, now I'll return the favor! You think I look ugly? Maybe you should look in the mirror! I mean, do you even wash your hair? And you have the nerve to insult my hair! I just thought you should know so you can fix it! Oh- now you're crying. Stop it. I refuse to feel guilty. I refuse."

In the end, Tonks and Pokey- whose real name, Tonks discovered, was Jenna Paige- lost ten points for Hufflepuff each. The prefect who had reported them greatly watered down the story to Professor Sprout, because, really, this wasn't the first time Paige had caused similar problems. Luckily, Sprout, as soon as she heard that Paige was involved, dismissed them with their punishment, so she didn't get a good look at Tonks and realize that she wasn't actually a student.

Tonks trudged back up to the Hufflepuff common room. She was sleeping on one of the few couches there. Tonks settled against the yellow cushions, sighing. Of course, she had known that helping Remus wouldn't be easy, but she had expected to have made some sort of progress by now.

She reflected on what had happened earlier that day. Did she feel guilty for yelling at a twelve-year-old? Yes. Did said twelve-year-old deserve it? Yep. Did that make it right?

Tonks sighed. Probably not.

She'd never admit it, but she had inherited the Black family temper. It was the only thing, besides physical traits, that Sirius had inherited.

Aw, well. Sometimes she thought Mad-Eye must be part Black, since his temper rivaled her own.

Tonks closed her eyes. Sleep now, tomorrow- another search for a rat. Maybe she'd search Hagrid's.

"Ron, Crookshanks can't help it. It's not his fault- nor mine for that matter! You can't blame a cat for acting like a cat."

"I'm not. I'm blaming you for not keeping that- that thing locked up, where it belongs!"

"This is not my fault!"

"You're wrong!"

Hermione seethed.

Ron scowled.

Harry sighed.

Ron and Hermione looked at him, expecting him to take their side.

Harry considered his words carefully. "Ron, you can't blame Hermione for the way Crookshanks acts- he is, after all, a cat."

Hermione looked triumphant, but Harry continued. "And Hermione, maybe you should have done a better job at keeping Crookshanks away from Scabbers." Ron looked a little too pleased, so Harry added, "But we don't even know for sure if Scabbers is dead. Can't we stop arguing about it?"

Ron pouted. "No. Scabbers is dead- how else could he have disappeared? And that monstrosity is the reason behind it, I'm sure." He pointed an accusatory finger at Crookshanks.

Harry sighed again.

If Scabbers was somewhere, he better show himself before Ron strangled Hermione's cat.

Later that evening, Harry snuck out to Hogsmeade, ensuring that it wasn't a full moon first.

He hadn't told Ron or Hermione about the Map, yet. He didn't want Hermione to convince him to do something stupid, like show it to McGonagall. And he couldn't exactly show Ron but not Hermione.

Harry reached the Shrieking Shack. He called Remus' name, but received no answer. Frowning, Harry tried again. Still nothing.

Filled to the brim with worry, Harry searched for a way into the Shack. Hitching the bag of food he had brought Remus higher onto his shoulder, he circled the building. He knew there must be a way in and out- Remus had told him that he only put up protective wards on the Shack during the full moon, as to not draw the Aurors' attention. Finally, he found a hidden door in the woodwork. Prying it open with a lot of brute force (and a little bit of magic), Harry entered the Shack. His heart was in his throat. Had the Aurors found Remus and carted him back to Azkaban? Was Remus still here? Or would Harry find blood-stained walls and deafening silence?

As a matter of fact, Harry did find blood-stained walls- but it was far from silent.

The whole Shack shook with muffled shouts and groans. Harry's heart was pounding. Was the Shack haunted after all?

He looked around, eyes widening at the sight of dried blood on every surface, at the claw-marks carved in the wood, and the furniture that stood in shambles. Harry climbed the rickety stairs, praying that they held his weight, and hurried into what he assumed was supposed to be a bedroom. There was a ratty mattress with its guts spilling out, and a few tattered blankets on top of it. There was a large window with the remains of curtains hanging around it, and in the far corner there was a dark shape...

It didn't take a genius to figure out that this was where the moaning was coming from.

Harry approached it warily. It looked like a man huddled there, but Harry had never heard a man make such a pitiful sound.

Harry crouched down, now afraid for an entirely different reason- he wasn't afraid of the man, per se, but more of what was happening to the man.

"Remus? Can you hear me?"

Remus' head snapped up, but his amber eyes revealed that he was somewhere far away- somewhere Harry couldn't reach him.

"James," rasped Remus, looking seemingly through Harry. "I'm so sorry. I failed. It's my fault... my fault."

Harry frowned, biting his lip. "No, Remus, no... whatever it is, it's not your fault."

Remus began trembling. "Didn't mean it... if I could take it back..."

Harry knew that he had to get Remus out of the dark place he had entered, and fast. Remus' mind was of great importance to him, and Harry hated seeing him in this state.

Something Remus had said came back to Harry. Azkaban... did not leave everything untouched. Sometimes my mind... slips. It's becoming harder to stay in the present. I... I fear I'm losing my mind. Slowly.

Oh, no.

Gritting his teeth in determination, Harry gripped Remus shoulders tightly. Shaking his slightly, Harry said, "Remus! It's ok- everything's fine. Come back. Dad's not here. James isn't here."

It wasn't working. Remus' amber eyes were growing darker with every second that passed. Harry was losing him, and he didn't know how far Remus could go before he couldn't come back.

Then, an idea struck. "Sirius! Sirius is here, Remus!"

Remus' eyes seemed to focus as his gaze snapped to Harry. "...Padfoot is here?" he asked weakly.

Harry nodded eagerly. "Yeah! He's waiting for you outside- but you need to stand up."

"Sirius..." breathed Remus. "I have to... see him. It's been... too long."

Harry nodded again, glad that Remus seemed to be coming back to him. Remus struggled to stand up, so Harry grabbed his wrist. With this touch, however, Remus appeared to snap out of it- he staggered away from Harry, clutching his head and groaning. When he looked up again, he seemed surprised to see Harry there. "H-Harry- what are you doing here?"

Harry looked at him sheepishly. "I came for more lessons, but..." he trailed off, knowing that Remus would put the puzzle pieces together.

Remus colored slightly. "I'm... sorry you had to see that Harry." he told him softly. "No one... no one should have to see that."

Harry looked straight into Remus' eyes, gaze unwavering. "No one should have to go through that." he countered.

Remus sat heavily on the remains of the bed. He seemed so tired, Harry wished there was a way to take away his pain, at least for a little while. He approached Remus slowly, and sat on the bed next to him. Harry knew that Remus must be embarrassed about the whole ordeal, but Harry didn't think any less of him. Rather, Harry feared for the man who was going through so much, and made a mental note to cherish the time he'd have with his teacher. If his life had taught him anything, it was that you never knew which day was your last.

Quietly, Harry asked, "Are you alright?"

Shakily, Remus nodded. "It's not usually that bad. Normally, I can pull myself out. But, well, the full moon's coming up, and... Well, it's never exactly kept me healthy before."

Harry nodded. Hesitantly, he asked, "Does it hurt... transforming?"

Remus blew air out of his mouth slowly. "I don't mean to scare you, Harry, but to be completely honest... it's excruciating."

Harry's brow furrowed. "I'm sorry." he said sincerely.

Remus offered him a wane smile. "It's not your fault, Harry."

Harry shrugged. "It's not yours, either."

Remus sighed. "No. It's not. But people always need someone to blame." Remus looked incredibly sad. "Sometimes, it doesn't matter who takes the fall, as long as the papers satisfy the audience."

Harry knew exactly what Remus was talking about.

He took a deep breath. "Last year, students were being Petrified, and messages were being written in blood on the walls." He registered Remus look of surprise out of the corner of his eye. "I kept hearing voices that nobody else could hear... they were all threats. Rumors began spreading- the Chamber of Secrets had been opened."

Remus' eyes widened in recognition. "The monster that Salazar Slytherin left behind. To purge the school of impure blood. But the monster was Petrifying children? That means... the legendary monster of Slytherin must have been..."

Harry could see the gears in Remus' head turning, and knew that if he was given enough time and information, he'd be able to figure it out. But he continued with his story. "Then, we figured out that I could speak Parseltongue- the whole school was calling me the Heir of Slytherin." He felt Remus' hand on his knee, offering silent comfort. "People were avoiding me and coming up to me to tell me their blood status- just to make sure they were safe. Nobody cared that one of my best friends since first year was Muggleborn, because she was Petrified too. But I found the Chamber- well, really, Hermione did- and it turns out, the monster was a Basilisk. That's what killed Moaning Myrtle the first time the Chamber was opened. I got rid of the Basilisk and saved Ron's sister Ginny- she had been possessed by this memory of Voldemort kept in a diary. It was... a scary year." Harry admitted. This was something he couldn't talk to Sirius about, because, well, Sirius' opinions tended to be heavily biased. "Does being a Parselmouth... does that make me someone who is supposed to be evil?"

Remus got off of the bed and knelt on the floor in front of Harry. Remus gripped Harry's elbows in his scarred hands as he spoke. "That's up to you to decide, Harry. Werewolves are supposed to be evil- but I never wanted that. I've always worked against that stereotype. It's not always enough to cancel out prejudices, and the bad things normally have a larger impact than the good things. But, ultimately, the decision lies with you. And, Harry, I can't claim to know you well, but I knew your parents and I know Sirius. You are more than your abilities. You are how you choose to use them."

Slowly, Harry nodded, grateful for Remus' words. Sirius would have told him that he was a good person, but that was because he was his godson, and had raised him. It was nice to hear the opinion of someone who had gone through something similar, if on a larger scale. Someone who didn't owe him their good opinion or felt obliged to give it to him. This was an honest opinion that Harry could trust, and he appreciated it.

"Will... will your mind get better? Or..." Or will it only get worse?

Remus sighed heavily. "Honestly, Harry, I don't know. I hope it gets better. I suppose... all I can do right now is do what I've been doing since I was bitten all those years ago."

Harry looked at him curiously. "What have you been doing?"

"Holding onto hope."