Sirius Flooed into his living room and immediately fell over the stack of motorcycle manuals he'd been making his way through before the duelling practice session that had ultimately turned into a rescue. Swearing, he staggered across the room and into the kitchen, wondering when he'd be able to enjoy the place in peace again – or, better yet, have Harry move in with him permanently.

He checked the back door and then the front door to see that his sealing charms were still in place, and then made a quick tour of the perimeter. Pleased that nothing had made an attempt at getting in – and that the muggle gardener he'd met in the local pub had been keeping the place well in his absence – he went back inside and quickly filled a suitcase with clothes.

I'll need respectable clothes too, he mused, as he worked, and added a couple of dress robes.

If he was going to make a good impression with the Ancient Society of Alchemists in Vienna, and the court at the Castle of Bones, he would need to look sharp. He spent a few minutes perusing the few books he had collected since his pardon and gave up. He'd hoped never to have occasion to look into the darker corners of European Wizardry, so most of his collection centred around more hedonistic pursuits, like 99 Ways to Improve Wizardly Wines and Brewing Basics for the Beginner, or anything related to fixing up his old bike.

Fortunately, he suspected the library at Grimauld Place would be packed with information. It was one of the few things he could depend on his family for: an affinity for and fascination with Dark Magic.

Shaking his head, he wondered when the last time he'd used the words 'fortunately' and 'Grimmauld Place' in the same general area.

There was a meeting there in a few days, after the full moon, so he'd use the time leading an expedition into the library – maybe with the kids, to give them the opportunity to snoop.

He frowned. There were rumbles about keeping the kids out of it, as far as they could, but Sirius thought that was insane. They were right in the middle of it; they had a right to know.

It might lose him a few friends, but he was prepared to defend that right as long as he was still in the country.

0o0

Amelia finished the washing up, leaving the dishes to drain, and wondered whether getting a dishwasher was a good idea with a house full of curious and inventive wizards.

It was full moon, and Remus had taken himself off to transform – not that anyone really cared. With the potion, it wasn't as painful as before, so he wouldn't make any noise, and since he kept his mind he wasn't a threat to anyone.

Amelia suspected that his continued absence was partially out of habit, and partially because it was fairly likely that someone would describe him as 'cute'.

She took a mug of tea and some biscuits into the library, where Sirius was grumpily making his way through some very dense and arcane texts, and carried her own through to the dining room, before he could start complaining.

Sometimes the best way to get Sirius through a problem was to isolate him, mostly so he didn't manage to distract himself. He was a little too sociable for his own good.

Carrying her own mug through to the dining room, she settled at one end of the table with her lesson plans for the new term. Bea, Hazel, Hermione and Harry were ranged around the other end, playing 7 Wonders, and therefore arguing about who had the best supplies of wood or clay.

She'd already put in a fair amount of planning for the new year, having learned the hard way her first year of teaching, that there was a significantly more to it than just standing up and sounding interesting for hour long stretches. Fortunately, Hogwarts wasn't the kind of school that required detailed plans and the staff had always enjoyed a certain latitude in respect of their teaching activities. Amelia thought this was one of the main reasons that its students loved it so dearly.

Still, if this Dolores Umbridge woman was going to meddle this year (and having seen her choice of textbook, she was pretty much certain of that), Amelia didn't want to give her an excuse to be meddling with her students. Very much of the 'just say it and get it over with' school of thought, she was double checking everything so that when she occasionally did stray into areas that the Ministry, in its present state of paranoia, would disapprove of, her students would at least have plausible deniability.

Clearly, subtlety was going to have to be her watchword this year, if she wanted to remain in a useful position.

She sighed.

People oughtn't have to be this circumspect in the delivery of facts, or the tools required for critical thought.

She looked up when Harry started coughing – a reasonable approximation of coughing, at any rate. It was fairly obvious why, when she followed his gaze to see the wolf in the hall scowling back at the boy. Hermione, too, was having a hard time keeping a straight face.

"G-good evening, Remus," said Hazel, with admirable steadiness.

It was quite something to be confronted by a wolf that was so obviously sulking, after all.

Unable to keep the amusement off her face, Amelia applied herself to her work.

It's not funny.

Amelia glanced down as her husband curled up around the bottom of her chair.

"It is pretty funny," she murmured, confident that his extra-sensitive ears would catch it and that those of the noisier board game players wouldn't. "You make a very handsome wolf."

He huffed and rested his chin on her feet, declining to comment.

They spent a pleasant hour like that, Amelia working away, Remus dozing beneath the table, Bea, Hazel and the kids arguing happily over their game, until Amelia finished her last plan this side of Christmas and decided enough was enough.

Putting the plans to one side, she glanced at the lupine form at her feet and came to the conclusion that she was quite comfortable if he was. Instead of getting up, she simply summoned a book from the library, causing not a little surprise when it zoomed over the heads of her friends. She caught it deftly and grinned at Bea and Hazel's shocked expressions.

It wasn't often she did blatant magic in front of them, but here, with Sirius, Hermione and Harry around, it seemed more natural.

"Sorry," she said. "I'll warn you next time."

"You'd better," Bea grumbled.

Amelia sent her aunt a complacent smile, content that she wasn't really annoyed, and settled into a rather dense book on Animagus transformations. It turned out to be insanely convoluted, and by the time Hermione had been declared the winner and the four of them had moved on to a spirited game of Ticket to Ride, Amelia had a headache. Admitting defeat, she extracted her feet from beneath her husband, who was, by now, fast asleep, she left the others to it and padded back to the library, enjoying the feel of the cool stone flags under her bare feet.

That's going to be unpleasant in winter, she thought, and made a note to bring home her heavy, woollen slipper boots back from Hogwarts with her.

Sirius was still glaring at a book when she walked through the door, a look of intense concentration and intense annoyance on his face. Taking pity on him, she cleared her throat. He looked up, blearily.

"Fancy a distraction?" she asked, re-shelving the poorly written textbook.

"Yes," he said, without a moment's hesitation. "These things are driving me mental."

"I've got a bottle of wine in the fridge," she said.

"That, Mrs Lupin, is the best offer I have had in weeks."

Amelia snorted. "I'll tell Remus you said that," she teased.

"I'll tell him you offered." He grinned, following her along the corridor with all the lightness of a man who had spent most of his youth sneaking around. "Where is Moony, anyway?"

"Asleep under the dining table," said Amelia, and told him about the sulking.

Sirius barked a laugh. "Yeah, he always was a bit sensitive about that. I mean, I kind of get where he's coming from, with it not being his choice and all, but still. He worries too much. It's better with the potion, though."

Amelia wholeheartedly agreed. Having seen the aftermath of a transformation without potion (and the transformation itself, at the end of Hermione's third year) she didn't want her husband ever to have to go through that again.

"I think he has a lot to worry about," she reflected, as her friend rummaged for wine glasses. "But you're right – he lets it take over sometimes. I suppose we all have moments like that."

"Yeah, but he's been like that since we were kids," Sirius reminded her.

She nodded, following him back to the library, privately thinking that a threat of shunning, dismemberment or death if he were ever exposed was the kind of thing that would make anyone a little apt to anxiety.

"I was meaning to pick your brain, actually," said Amelia, when they had installed themselves at either end of the comfortable sofa.

"About what?" Sirius asked, passing her a glass of wine.

"Animagus transformations. I've been trying to study it – Minerva's given me a list of texts – but I just can't get my head around it."

"Yeah," Sirius chuckled. "They are a bit dense, aren't they? Which ones have you tried?"

Amelia gave him a brief list of the tomes she had struggled her way through over the past couple of weeks, and Sirius winced at every single one.

"To be honest with you, after we'd read through them, me and Prongs figured most things out instinctively," he admitted, and Amelia snorted, unsurprised. "The meditation was a drag, but seeing Moony the way he was after every transformation…" He shook his head. "We knew we had to get through it for him."

Amelia nodded. It was one of the reasons becoming an Animagi was a priority for her, too. "Even so, I think I'd enjoy watching you trying to sit still for an extended period," she teased, and he grinned.

"It wasn't easy."

"The mandrake leaf thing," Amelia began, thinking back to some of the earliest notes she'd made. "Is that strictly necessary?"

"What, carrying one around in your mouth for a month?" Sirius queried, contemplating his wine. "Sadly, yes. And they taste disgusting, I can assure you."

"Great."

He laughed at the face she was pulling. "Don't worry, after the first ten minutes your mouth sort of goes numb. You can have a new one in each day, which helps with the squeam. Keeping it there all night and not swallowing it is the hardest part – though talking and eating were pretty trying too, as I recall."

"Urgh," Amelia groaned. "I suppose I'd better make a start on that now, then. I don't want to be trying to lecture with that in my mouth."

"No," Sirius laughed. "Plus, if some of the older students spotted it they'd figure it out and you'd probably have to register."

"Mmm," Amelia mused. "I have to say, the penalties for not registering are pretty steep."

"Well, you can kind of understand why," Sirius remarked, amused. "People could get up to all sorts of things as an unregistered Animagus – I did!"

Amelia laughed. "Yeah, like breaking out of prison."

"And into the kitchens, and stealing books, and spying on the Slytherins when we were at school," he added, with a touch of pride.

"I bet you were a menace," Amelia told him, smirking.

"I'm hurt, Mrs Lupin, hurt and offended."

"Whatever."

"There's a bit in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century that could be helpful," Sirius recommended, after a moment's thought. "And in A History of Merlin. He's supposed to be the first recorded Animagus, you know – or, at least, someone we think is him was. He had a bit of a thing for disguises, did Merlin."

"Falco Aesalon?" Amelia asked, recalling her reading, and Sirius nodded. "Yeah, I read about that. I imagine it came as something of a surprise to the people pursuing him."

"Tricky old bugger," Sirius observed, with affection.

"I've had a bit more luck with the Journal of the International Symposium of Animagi, but that seems to mostly be people complaining about other animagi."

"You know wizards, they like to irritate each other."

They chuckled.

"Tell you what," Sirius offered, shifting so he was cross-legged at the end of the sofa. "I'll see if Minerva would mind me helping you practice. She's got a lot on her plate this term."

"We all have," Amelia remarked. "But I'd very much appreciate that."

"The instinctive way is marginally more dangerous, and I can't see Minerva going for that, so… maybe don't mention that part?"

Amelia chuckled. "Alright, but I can guarantee my husband will try to talk me into being more cautious."

"He did with us," Sirius recalled. "Didn't always get through."

"So I hear," Amelia said, laughing. "Alright, you're on. Not totally sure I trust you enough to sit still with my eyes closed in your vicinity, but hey!"

Sirius grinned. "You'll be safe with me, love, Marauder's honour!"

"Marauders have honour?"

They fell into good natured bickering for a while, until a movement in the doorway caught Sirius's attention. "Moony!" he cried, delighted, but Remus simply gave him a baleful look and continued on into the kitchen. Sirius laughed. "We're in trouble now," he said, jovially poking Amelia in the foot.

She giggled. "Drinking wine and talking Transfiguration without him! How could we?"

"We're –" He struggled to pull a mournful expression for a moment. "We're really in the doghouse!"

They were both still roaring with laughter when Remus padded back in, carrying his bowl in his mouth. He set it down in front of Sirius, pointedly, and glared at him.

"I'm pretty sure you shouldn't give alcohol to canines," said Sirius, his eyes glittering.

"Well, we've already broken that rule," Amelia pointed out, entertained. "You're drinking."

He barked another laugh. "Touché."

Remus glared at him, but not with any great conviction, given that he was already pouring a measure of wine into his old friend's bowl.

"I love that we live somewhere where that is not weird," remarked Hazel, on the way past to the kitchen.

Remus' head shot round as the other two burst out laughing again, but the radiographer had already disappeared along the corridor and out of sight. He huffed and curled up on the rug.

Sirius sighed, his good humour subsiding somewhat. He closed the elderly tome on the coffee table and pushed the scroll of parchment he'd been making notes on to one side.

"All that scholarliness getting to you?" Amelia asked, half-joking. She'd glanced at the books earlier in the day and knew that they were dense and written in faded, largely illegible handwriting, for the most part.

"As fascinating as vampires initially seem, the records of their meetings are bloody tedious," he remarked.

This elicited a snort of amusement from the wolf on the floor, pausing between reasonably dignified slurps of wine.*

"Probably because they've been around for a while," Amelia suggested.

"I'll be happier when I'm actually there, talking to them," Sirius admitted, pushing a hand through his dark hair. "Even if there is the potential they might suck my blood if I annoy them."

"I'd watch yourself if I were you," said Amelia, amused.

You could irritate a rock, her husband observed, and Amelia relayed this comment to Sirius, who pulled a face at him.

"I'm hoping the Alchemists will be easier to talk to," said Sirius. "Generally if you get them talking, they'll never shut up. It's getting them to listen that's the real problem."

"I've been to the Alchemist's museum in Prague," said Amelia. "Got a night off when I was roadie for a band touring in the city. It's a nice little museum – though the tour guide I had was particularly batty. Looking back, he was probably a wizard."

Remus nodded.

"There aren't any muggles working there," Sirius said. "It would be too difficult to keep things secret."

Amelia hmmed her agreement, taking another sip of wine. "Have you got a date for the meeting yet?"

"No," said Sirius, looking weary. "After Harry's hearing, with any luck."

Likely the same time as mine, Remus thought, in Amelia's direction.

She frowned. "If you're both off at the same time there's a part of me that wonders whether I ought to move us all to Grimmauld place for a couple of days."

Safer.

She nodded at her husband, but Sirius shook his head.

"Physcially, maybe, but with my mother's portrait there you'd be better off here, trust me." He chuckled, though it didn't entirely disguise the shadows that had formed on his face at the mention of his unpleasant parent. "Besides, I reckon you could take a couple of Death Eaters, between you."

"Maybe," said Amelia, thinking she needed to get in a few more duelling practice sessions before either ex-Marauder left on their missions, glad that hers would be largely based at home.

Your reading might be quite good for that.

She glanced at Remus, who was watching her quite intently.

"What am I missing?" Sirius asked, almost petulantly.

He hated being out of the loop.

"Remus suggested my reading could be useful when it comes to duelling," she relayed.

"That's not a bad idea," said Sirius thoughtfully. "Moony tells me it borders on Legilimency at times –"

Remus nodded emphatically.

"And that really is useful in a fight – you can predict your opponent's next moves, get a leg up, so to speak."

Amelia nodded slowly. It had occurred to her during the duel she and Remus had had with Barty Crouch Junior the previous May. "I'm not sure I can control it enough yet," she remarked. "Or that it wouldn't be too distracting."

She smiled when Remus laid a paw on her knee.

Practice makes perfect, love.

0o0

*If you've ever seen a dog drinking, you'll know exactly how undignified that might actually be!