Yeah, yeah, I'm cruel. Trust me, I know (and so does my boyfriend, the elusive Yankee). Forgive me, please.

Sorry this has taken so long, but work, exams, ho hum.

Remus's shoulders sagged. He raised one hand and pushed back his hair.

'I'm not going to hurt you, Harry,' he said in an indescribably weary voice, the voice of one who had had this conversation before.

'You're a werewolf!' Harry shouted.

'Please – Harry…'

Sirius took a quick step forward and caught Remus in his arms.

'Shh… love,' he murmured impotently.

'He's right!' Remus cried passionately. 'I could hurt him! I could hurt anyone! I could kill anyone, and not even know I was doing it!'

'Not anymore,' Sirius reminded him. They seemed to have forgotten Harry's presence. He stood there on the periphery, his instinct to run overcome by his curiosity. 'You're safe now.'

'You must be mad if you think there's such a thing as a safe werewolf!' Remus shouted, springing away from him.

'I'm not mad,' said Sirius calmly. 'I trust you to take your potion – and god knows, I trust Snape to make it right, even if he is a – well, even if we don't see eye to eye, Merlin, if anyone'd make a potion right it'd be him. And fuck Re, I don't give a shit if you're not safe. I'd help you to keep yourself so you didn't hurt anyone! And while you might be a werewolf, first and foremost you're a man. A person. The wolf's you too, course it is, but a small part. And the kid doesn't know you as a person yet. It's too early for that, but better he knows now. When he gets to know you, he'll realise. You're the gentlest, kindest man I know, and that's why I love you. So please. Come here.'

Remus obeyed. Sirius enfolded him in his arms, and glancing over the top of his head met Harry's wide-eyed gaze.

'You hurt him,' he addressed Harry. 'But it's not your fault. Bloody wizards are full of prejudices they seem eager to pass on to each generation. Werewolves are dangerous, sure they are, every full moon and only then. The rest of the time, they're people. Just like you, only scared that people are going to find out and denounce them for what they are, what they can't help being. And they're scared of hurting people. Re here cares much more about hurting people than he does himself. Every month – Merlin, if you could only see. Every month, before the potion, he tore himself to bits. But every month he'd wake up in the morning, a man again, and the first thing he'd ask was – did I hurt anyone?'

'What potion?' Harry asked timidly. He had lowered his wand, and seemed somewhat regretful of his hasty retreat.

'Severus Snape, your Potions Master, brews me a potion each month which allows me to keep my own mind when I transform, so I have the body of a wolf but I can think and feel the same as I do now. It's called Wolfsbane,' Remus answered him.

'Snape does that?'

'Yes – although I fear he doesn't do it willingly,' Remus replied. 'You see – when we were younger, Sirius played a joke…'

'One that I regret every single day,' Sirius interjected, hanging his head, his face burning with shame.

'He told him where they put me during each full moon – in the Shrieking Shack, at Hogsmeade. You know it? Anyway, Severus followed me because – he was curious about where I went every month. I would have bitten him, or killed him. Your father heard what Sirius had done, Harry, and went after him to rescue him, at great risk to his own life. Oddly, Severus never forgave James…'

'But my dad saved him!'

'It's hard to accept that you are safe because your greatest enemy saved you,' Remus answered sagely.

Harry stood looking awkward for a moment. Then he re-entered the room, hand extended.

'I want to apologise for the way I reacted,' he said. 'I was wrong, I understand that now. I suppose I'd just heard things about werewolves that weren't true, and I'd never met one before. I'm sorry.'

'It's okay,' Remus said, shaking his hand. 'You weren't to know. It's forgotten.'

'So!' Sirius said, rubbing his hands to break the solemn mood. 'What shall we do first? I have a hankering to roam Hogwarts once more – what do you say, Harry? Re?'

'Sounds good,' Remus agreed warmly, and Harry nodded.

'Where do you want to go first?' he asked.

'Well, how about the Gryff tower?' Sirius suggested. 'Then we can go and have lunch. I'm half-starved.'

'Alright,' Harry said, and led the way out of Dumbledore's office. They descended the winding staircase and found themselves in a corridor which Sirius recognised far better than Remus.

'I always had to wait here before getting summoned up for a bollocking!' he said happily. 'Ah, those were the days!'

Remus gave him a withering look. 'You were a little shit,' he told him, and Harry giggled. 'I'm surprised the teachers didn't pack you right back to the Black HQ.'

'Me too,' Sirius said frankly.

'I don't know if you know this, Harry,' Remus said to the boy, 'but your dad and Sirius here were the biggest troublemakers Hogwarts had ever known. Anything bad or Slytherin-annoying they could think of to do, they did. And I, the prefect, was meant to keep them in line! As if…'

Harry was chuckling. 'I think you should meet Fred and George Weasley,' he commented.

'Weasley? I remember an Arthur Weasley… he was the head boy when I was, must've been, second year? Anything to do with him, are they?'

'Yeah! He's their dad!' Harry said. 'And my friend Ron's dad too, and his sister Ginny, and Percy, and there's Charlie and Bill but they're older…'

'Blimey…'

'Their mum's Molly… did you know her?'

'I knew one Molly… hmm… Brooke, I think. Quite small, very red hair. Arthur's year – and head girl.'

'Yes! That must be her!'

'And they have – what, seven children? Good grief, they worked fast,' Sirius commented.

Harry said nothing. He could think of nothing to say. At that happy juncture they reached the Fat Lady who guarded the entrance to Gryffindor tower. She was engaged in reading a fabulously thick book which, they discovered, was a well-known seventeenth century romance.

'Yes?' she said, peering at them. 'Password? Oh… my goodness me! It can't be! Remus Lupin! And Sirius Black!'

'You recognise us!' Sirius exclaimed.

'But of course! Many's the time I had to wake up to let you and your friends in after some late-night carousing,' she chuckled. Remus blushed and Sirius laughed. 'And that's how you always reacted! Remus blushing and apologising, and you, you scamp, laughing in my face!'

'It's good to see you again,' Remus said warmly, and the Fat Lady smiled indulgently at him.

'You're looking too thin,' she remarked. 'I hope you're looking after him?' – this to Sirius.

'Oh yes, extremely well,' Sirius said mischievously.

'I always knew that you two ought to be together,' the Fat Lady said dreamily, and Sirius and Remus's mouths fell open. 'Anyway,' she returned to briskness, 'better let you in, hadn't I? Password, young whippersnapper?'

'Fandabidozia (i),' Harry told her, and the portrait swung open. The three clambered through, and there they were, in the Gryffindor common room.

'Wow! It hasn't changed at all!' Sirius gasped. The students in there, mostly sixth or seventh years with free periods, all turned round to look at the adult intruders.

'They used to come here, ages ago,' Harry explained.

'Not that long,' Sirius retorted.

'My favourite chair!' Remus cried suddenly. 'It's still here!' And he sank back into a cracked red leather armchair by the window with a happy sigh.

'Do you remember that time that all four of us were on this, drunk on Firewhisky?' Sirius asked, and Harry laughed at the idea of his schoolboy dad being pissed with his friends.

'Of course,' Remus replied. 'I was on the top!'

'Aren't you always?' Sirius teased him. Remus went pink, and Sirius walked over and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

'Can we go up to the dormitory?' Remus asked to cover his own embarrassment.

'Yeah, sure,' Harry said, and led the way up the winding stair. 'This is our dormitory,' he said, pointing at a tall oak door.

'Yes, that was ours too,' Remus told him. 'Can we go in?'

'Course – it's a bit of a mess though, sorry.'

'I live with Sirius – I'm immune to mess,' Remus replied with a tiny half-smile. 'Oh, Merlin! This hasn't changed either!'

The four-poster beds were in exactly the same position, the curtains hanging by the windows were the same deep shade of Gryffindor red, the chests of drawers with their contents spilling out as though the Marauders had only vacated it yesterday.

'Wow,' Sirius said softly. 'Takes you back, doesn't it?'

'I feel eleven again,' Remus said softly. 'Unpacking my things with three strange boys chattering around me.'

'I was a wreck,' Sirius said frankly. 'The one good thing my family ever did was to put on a brave face… but I'd just been sorted away from Slytherin and I knew there would be a Howler coming my way soon.'

'You were right,' Remus remembered. 'At breakfast, must've been a couple of days later… and I was so impressed by you, how nonchalantly you took it. That was my idea of hell, back then – everyone turning and staring at me, people teasing me… I just wanted to blend in.'

'You did a damn good job, Re,' Sirius said fondly. 'I don't think I even heard your voice after you introduced yourself for, what, a month? And then we were planning to attack the Slytherins, and you were nearby listening, and you pointed out the fatal flaw in the plan, and suggested an improvement. I knew then that we had to be friends!'

'I think that was one of the happiest days of my life. Where I found the bottle to talk to you, I don't know. But thank god I did.'

Sirius slipped a warm hand into his. 'Thank god,' he echoed.

'So Harry, who are your friends?' Remus asked.

'Well, there's Ron Weasley, remember I said about him… he's tall and lanky and red haired, he likes Quiddich as much as me -'

'Genes, must be,' Sirius interrupted.

'Both your parents loved Quiddich maniacally,' Remus told Harry.

'Yeah, Madam Hooch said,' Harry replied.

'Sorry Harry, carry on,' Sirius said, and Remus gently squeezed the hand he was still holding.

'And there's Hermione – she's a muggle-born but the cleverest person in our year – probably in the whole school! People wonder why the Hat didn't sort her into Ravenclaw, but I reckon it knew what it was doing – she's dead brave, Hermione.'

'Sounds like you, Re,' Sirius commented. Remus raised his eyebrows.

'Can we meet them?' he asked.

'Sure – but, er, can I tell them – about you – first?' Harry stammered. He thought the details of his godfathers' unusual relationship, and also the fact that one of them was a werewolf, would come better from him.

'Good idea,' Remus said, as if sensing what Harry was thinking. 'How about after lunch?'

'Great,' Harry said with relief. 'So what do you want to do now?'

'The library,' Remus said as Sirius replied 'The Quiddich pitch,' at the same time.

'How about I go to the library and see Madam Pince – if it's still her?' Harry nodded, 'And you two go down and talk sporty things.'

'Sure?' Sirius asked.

'Yes – I don't think you'll miss my input when you're discussing all those crazy-named tactics,' Remus said with a grin. 'I'll see you at lunch?'

'Okay,' Harry said. Sirius leant forward and gave Remus a tiny kiss on the forehead before all three descended the stairs, exited the portrait hole, and then went their separate ways.

'So Harry, what broomstick have you got?' Sirius asked as they strolled along the corridors to the main door out to the grounds.

'It's a Nimbus 2000,' Harry told him. 'Pretty good acceleration from the ground but its braking isn't all that great. Apparently the 2001 has better braking, but Malfoy's got that one, and besides, mine's perfectly good.'

'Malfoy?'

'Yeah, Draco. He's the most annoying bastard -' quick sidelong glance at Sirius to check for a rebuke, but none came – 'in the whole of Hogwarts – Slytherin, of course.'

'I knew a Lucius Malfoy at Hogwarts,' Sirius said pensively. 'He was a wanker too…'

'That's his dad!' Harry said excitedly. Then more sombrely – 'I heard he was a Death Eater…'

'You heard right,' Sirius said gravely. 'One of Voldemort's most trusted and feared allies. I'm still not sure how he evaded Azkaban.'

'Draco says he lied to the Ministry – told them he was acting under the Imperius curse – gave them a big donation and the Ministry let him off.'

'That sounds about right,' Sirius said bitterly. 'So Draco took against you, did he? No surprise really, growing up the son of Lucius.'

'He tried to be friendly on the train, in first year,' Harry said. 'But I didn't like him. I thought he was rude, and arrogant, and he didn't seem too fun. So I hung out with Ron instead.'

'But surely – Ron's a pureblood,' Sirius said. 'He didn't like him?'

'Ron's family's really poor,' Harry explained. 'And his dad works in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts department in the Ministry. Apparently the Malfoys don't approve of anyone who doesn't think the same thing they do.'

'Bloody weirdos, those pureblood freaks,' Sirius muttered. He saw Harry's face and laughed. 'I should know. I'm a Black.'

This didn't elicit the immediate response he had imagined so he hastened to explain.

'The Blacks are one of the oldest and most respected pureblood families – well, respected if you like murdering, hate-filled lunatics. There's been a lot of intermarriage between them and the Malfoys – after all, if you're only going to marry a pureblood, there's not many to choose from. I'm dear little Draco's cousin, more's the pity. My insane family all loved the Malfoys, and they supported Voldemort, although not as overtly as some others. They were furious when the Hat sorted me into Gryffindor – and dear lord I wish some of them were still alive. I'd love to see their faces when I told them I'm in love with a half-blood male werewolf!'

'They're dead?' Harry asked.

'Yep – my dear old mum and dad died a few years ago, and my charming little brother Regulus was killed by his master – Voldemort. He was a Death Eater too.'

Harry gasped.

'So how come you're not like them?' he asked.

'No idea. Must just be inherently decent,' Sirius grinned. 'Can't be genetic, or due to my upbringing. I honestly have no idea. But I'm not the only nice Black. I have a cousin, Andromeda, who wasn't buying into all the pureblood nonsense. She was a Gryffindor too – married a muggle-born wizard, Ted Tonks. But they were Aurors, and they died in the war,' he finished sadly. 'I think they had a daughter, although I'm not sure what happened to her.'

'I hope she didn't get sent to live with muggles,' Harry said bitterly.

'You don't get on with your aunt and uncle?'

'No. They hate me. They hate magic and wizards and everything. They tell people I go to some crackpot school for criminal boys, and they make me stay here for Christmases and Easters. They hate the summer, because I have to go home.'

'I'm sorry Harry,' Sirius said sincerely. 'I wish things were better for you. In fact – well, I haven't asked Remus this, the thought's only just popped into my head – but would you like to come and stay with us sometimes? We'd love to have you – Remus's flat's small but you could have the sofa…'

'That would be so cool!' Harry exclaimed, his face lighting up. Already he had begun to hero-worship this tall, handsome man with his careless, funny words, his bright smile and his obvious affection for Harry and his parents. Then it fell. 'What about full moons?' he asked cautiously.

'You've got nothing to fear,' Sirius said gently. 'Your potion master is very competent – Remus tells me that when he transforms, it's exactly like his mind being in a strange body. He's no more threat than an overgrown puppy, so he says. I have to say, I haven't seen him transform for over ten years, so not since the Wolfsbane, but I'm sure it'll be fine. Really, don't be afraid.'

'Well, if Dumbledore says it's okay, I'd love to come!' Harry said.

'Great stuff! Now, let's talk Quiddich! So what position are you?'

And so the talk turned to an enthusiastic discussion, laughing and chattering as they swapped anecdotes of that most excellent wizarding sport.

(i) I couldn't resist. This is a magicalisation of Wee Jimmy Krankie's catchphrase, fandabidozi (in case you're young and American and it passed you by – you didn't miss much). Bless the little transvestite Scots dwarf.