Meant to upload this sooner but got delayed. Shame, really as I almost managed to make Halloween in this story match up with the calendar! Maybe I'll have more luck with Christmas...

VlightPhase: You've got a point about the boggart, I'll admit. I felt it was never really clear in the books how far their powers stretched but you're probably right in that the fire shouldn't actually have burnt Remus. But where'd the fun be in that? About the living quarters/offices, I think they're generally sepearated, but Remus asked for an exception so he wouldn't leave Sirius on his own so much.

CaseLC: No, Tonks is the only one. Hogwarts doesn't really need them, in any way, so her presence is mostly for show.

Gnoming

There was no answer when Harry knocked on the door the day before Halloween. Remus was obviously not in his rooms. Feeling no desire whatsoever to go back to the common room to be stared at, he quickly threw a look behind him to check if the corridor really was deserted, before knocking again. "Snuffles? It's me! I'm alone"

There was a muffled bark, and a moment later the door opened. "Blimey, Harry. If Remus knew I let you in on my own he'd skin me."

Harry blushed. "I'm sorry, I...I can leave again."

"Merlin, no!" Sirius quickly shut the door behind him. "I'm bored out of my mind. Butterbeer?"

Harry grinned and nodded, setting down his bag and taking a seat on his favourite armchair. Remus, having resigned himself to the fact that his living room had turned into a miniature common room for convicts, students and Aurors, had permanently conjured a wide arrangement of seats, a lot more comfortable than the ones Sirius made.

"So how's it going, then? Ron still being a prat? I read what Skeeter wrote, by the way. Utter bitch, that woman." Sirius' gaze wandered over to the table, which, as Harry now noticed, had a rather large burn hole on it.

"I think it's my parents giving me the strength, I know they'd be proud – they'd hex her sorry little arse, that's what they'd do! Actually, I've got half a mind to do it myself."

"Sirius, please put your wand down. You're burning my table."

Sirius stared at him for a moment, fury bristling in his grey eyes, before giving his wand a quick wave. It stopped spraying sparks; instead the Daily Prophet in front of him burst into flames, and Sirius stomped away like a small child.

Sighing, Remus extinguished his table and vanished the ashy remnants of the paper. He'd have to pop by the staff room later and see if he could steal himself a new copy form a less than vigilant colleague.

Sirius, following Harry's eyes towards the burn hole, quickly cleared his throat. "How are the Skrewts coming along?"

Harry made a face. "Not all dead yet, sadly. Hagrid's making us walk them now, because apparently them killing each other is down to too much spare energy."

Sirius guffawed at that. "You know, I'd have loved his lessons. James and I would probably have stolen one of them...Imagine the look on Remus' face if we smuggled one in his office!"

Harry wasn't sure if his godfather was joking, and grinned cautiously. "Yeah...Where is he, anyway?"

Sirius shrugged. "Supervising detention, I think. Tonks should be here soon, though. She said she'd bring some of her music. Tells me my taste is outdated." He snorted. "As if her whining siblings can even be called music compared real Rock." Harry was barely listening, trying very hard to hide the disappointment from his face.

He had hoped for an evening alone with Sirius, and maybe Remus, but Tonks... somehow he always felt a little left out when she was around. Not that he didn't like her; it was just the way she and Sirius would talk about their family, or other things that Harry had no idea about. Of course Remus and Sirius talked about things that had happened before his birth as well, but with them it was always like listening to his parents, and they always made a great deal of including him. With Tonks around, he just felt like the child at an adult party.

Obviously his efforts had failed, because Sirius stopped his ranting about the downfall of music and looked at him inquisitively. "Everything alright, Harry? Apart from...you know, nasty journalists and idiotic best friends."

Harry nodded quickly, forcing a smile on his face. "Yeah, sure. I...I probably shouldn't stay long, I've still got a Divination essay to write."

Sirius shrugged. "Write it here, I'll help. I'm assuming you're still following the ancient and noble Divination tradition of making stuff up as you go along?" Harry failed to return the grin, and Sirius put his Butterbeer bottle down, sitting up straight and looking Harry in the face. There was real concern in his eyes now. "Alright, what's wrong? Did Snape-"

Harry shook his head. "No one did anything." He paused, avoiding Sirius' gaze. "I should probably go; I know Remus doesn't want me to come here so often."

Sirius frowned. "You can come here whenever you like, Harry. I think what Remus means is that you shouldn't feel obliged to – and you're not; please don't think that you have to come and visit me if you don't want to."

Harry winced. "I do want to," he said quietly, staring intently at the Butterbeer bottle. "It's just...I don't want to intrude on you and Tonks. She's your family, and I know you have a lot to catch up on. I can get back some other time."

There was a moment of silence, and when Harry finally looked up he saw confusion on Sirius face. Then his eyes softened. "You do know you're the most important person in my life, don't you Harry?"

It was odd how gentle and sincere he sounded all of a sudden, when just moments ago he had joked about skipping homework and called the Weird Sisters a 'bunch of whimpy little emo kids'.

"Tonks is...she's great, and I'm glad to have someone from my family around that's not a psychopathic murderer, but if you...if you'd rather spend time with me alone, I'll tell her to come by some other time."

Harry gulped, feeling very guilty now. "No, of course not... I like her, I really do. I just...I forget that no matter what I feel, you have a proper family for yourself."

Again, Sirius was silent, and Harry had the feeling that he was weighing his words carefully. "Your Dad was my family," he finally said. "Your grandparents, and Remus, Lily and...Peter... James was a brother to me. And for what it's worth, that hasn't changed. For my part, you're family."

Harry stared at him for a moment, feeling choked and happy at the same time. Then he saw the flicker of doubt in Sirius eyes, and quickly smiled. "You're my family too, Sirius. I...I'm so glad I found you and Remus. "

The grin returned to Sirius' face, and he held out a hand and patted him firmly on the shoulder. "Glad we cleared that up. You should probably mention it to Moony that you think of him as family. It's fun to watch him get all choked up."

There was a knock on the door, and Sirius threw him a questioning look. "Want me to send her away?"

Quickly, Harry shook his head. Suddenly he didn't feel anxious at Tonks' presence at all.

"Wow," the Auror made when Sirius opened the door for her. "Are those tears in your eyes, Black? Did Remus finally find and destroy your liquor stash?" Then she noticed Harry, and grinned. "Wotcher, Harry. Did you make him cry?"

"I'm not crying!" Sirius protested. "We were just...clearing up some family matters." He threw a short glance at Harry, giving him a warm smile before turning back. "Now drop it or I'll dig up some pictures of you actually crying. I've got a lovely one taken right after you fell off your broom. Scratch barely visible, but you're bawling like a – "

"I get it, thanks," Tonks cut him off, pulling out a record from her bag. "Ready for some pop culture that isn't old enough to have its own mortgage?"

"No. We're helping Harry with his homework," Sirius said, smirking.

Tonks took a look at the table, and spotted Unfogging The Future. "Divination?" she grinned excitedly. "Awesome! What are we making up, then? Dreams? Tea leaves?"

As it turned out, Sirius and Tonks were even more helpful with his homework than brainstorming with Ron usually was, both having a rich imagination and an ample supply of real-life mishaps to draw from. Tonks' falls down various stairs alone could have lasted him a whole term. After they were finished, they even started on his transfiguration homework, but at that point Remus came back and told them to stop.

"You're telling Harry not to do his homework?" Sirius exclaimed incredulously. "Remus – I was born as stiff as a corpse – Lupin? Who actually hexed my leg off once so I would stay in the library to finish an essay?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "I'm telling him not to have you two do his homework." He threw an apologetic glance at Harry. "I'm sorry Harry, but the point of it is that you learn something, not Sirius reminiscing about how great he was at school.-"

"I was great," Sirius clarified rather smugly.

"-And if you come here to do your homework all the time, people will think that I'm the one helping you. Which would not only be unethical but probably against the school rules as well."

"All hail the rules!" Sirius hollered, still grinning like a maniac.

Remus turned to Tonks, sighing tiredly. "Is he drunk?"

She shook her head. "No, he was like this when I found him. I think he's just happy."

"I can hear you!"

Harry grinned as he was putting away his transfiguration things. Sirius had been in an exceptionally good mood all evening – or rather, since Harry had told him he regarded him as his family. At least for tonight, it was easy to forget the fact that half the school hated him, his best friend thought him a liar and the whole wizarding world thought he was some sort of attention-seeking whiner. Because at least he had a family to get him through now.

A very odd, noisy, and sometimes downright frightening one – Sirius was now firing tiny balls of flame at Remus with an alarming disregard for the safety of furniture and humans alike – but his family.

On Halloween, a Saturday, Remus spent his afternoon out on the grounds. With autumn well under way the weather had turned grey and stormy, but for now at least it was dry, the sky coloured in steely greys, dark blues and yellows. A rather beautiful sight, although the violent gusts of wind that made the Whomping Willow groan and creak meant that most of the students kept inside the warm castle, chattering excitedly about the upcoming festivities.

Remus didn't feel like chatting, nor did he feel like going inside to sit with Sirius, who, having been persuaded to at least delay the drinking until the evening, was pacing in the apartment with a murderous look on his face, something that Remus found highly unhelpful in trying to mark homework. Not that he would have gotten much work done today, anyway.

Not on Halloween, when the past was more alive than ever, ripping open old wounds as if no time had passed at all.

He had considered apparating to Godric's Hollow to visit the graves, as he had done in the previous years, but back then he hadn't had a school to return to, and students who might not be pleased with seeing their Defence teacher walk through the hallways crying.

So instead he had opted for a walk around the lake, turning up his collar against the wind and hoping the wild gusts would take the dark memories with them. It didn't really work. All it did was bring up different memories.

The one time James had insisted that he could totally fly over the castle during a storm, and had ended up smashing into the north tower, reducing his Comet to wood chippings and breaking both his legs. Gryffindor had almost lost the next game because their Captain was riding a crappy old school broom, before Mr Potter finally relented and bought his son a new one.

Or that time when Lily had introduced them to kite flying after they had seen a muggle boy do it, and James and Sirius charmed teeth onto theirs to try and rip the other one's apart... Lily had won that battle when she made hers breathe fire, making Sirius joke that they should ditch Peter and make her the fourth Marauder.

Peter...

It was odd. For thirteen years he had mourned for his old friend, berating himself again and again for not being there, for not finding him before he could get to Sirius – because of course Peter wouldn't stand a chance against Sirius in a duel, Sirius who at the age of sixteen could have beaten most Aurors... Condemning himself for not being able to save Wormtail, the smallest, weakest of them, who really only had been in this war because he didn't want to let his friends down...

Now Remus knew that it had been Sirius who he had let down. And it was easier, so much easier – because even though he had been blind for thirteen years, now it was crystal clear. Of course it wasn't Sirius who had betrayed James. James had been everything to him, from the moment they had stepped on the Hogwarts express. Sirius could just as much hurt James as he could cut off his own head. At least with Peter, Remus could understand.

Always the weakest, always picked on, forever in the background when James and Sirius dazzled the school with their brilliance. In many ways, Remus could see parallels to how Ron was behaving now. Not that he'd ever think the Weasley boy a murderer – no, quite how far Peter had gone over was still a bit of a shock – but his must have been a sentiment that Peter had shared.

With the difference that Peter had never spoken up, no matter how many insults Sirius flung at him – and there had been many, more than Remus felt comfortable remembering – always bottling up. For how long had been planning to betray them? When had admiration turned into resentment?

He wondered where Peter was now. Was he still feeling that anger? Hate, perhaps even? Or was he simply scared of Sirius and Remus finding him, hiding as far in the shadows as he possibly could. Hiding had always been one of his strong sides...

Having completed his tour around the lake Remus went back up to the castle, taking a detour through the greenhouses. It was less windy here, sheltered between the low buildings, and he deliberately took his time, not wanting to return to Sirius just yet.

It was on the nettle patch that he realized he wasn't the only one braving the storm after all. There, hunched over something on the ground, was Jarek Bosko, a brown overcloak loosely covering his school uniform and the ends of his scarf trailing in the mud. The boy had his back to Remus and hadn't noticed him yet. Remus hesitated.

Despite his efforts to be as friendly as possible, Jarek Bosko had stayed closed up and silent in his lessons. He sat in the first row, and he appeared to be paying attention well enough – more so than others, actually, for he never talked to his classmates – and handing in his homework fully and on time, but never spoke unless specifically asked to. From talking to the other teachers, Remus had gathered that it was the same in all of his classes – he did what was asked, seemed to be talented enough, but kept to himself, isolating himself from students and teachers alike.

Remus didn't really know what to do with that. He had told Val he'd keep an eye on him, and he did write to her from time to time, telling her that Jarek was doing well in all his lessons. But was he happy?

Remus had no idea.

Slowly he approached the boy, the howling wind covering the sound of his footsteps. When he got closer he saw what Jarek was so fascinated by – a potato-like creature that was digging through the soft earth a few feet away from him.

Jarek didn't hear Remus, but the gnome did, looking up from where he was tugging fruitlessly at a worm and fixing the newcomer with a curious stare. When the gnome's head suddenly turned into his direction, Jarek instinctively scrambled away from him, stumbling over his loose scarf as he tried to get to his feet. Righting himself up, he finally saw Remus, and a shocked expression of embarrassment and guilt crept onto his face.

Remus realized that with his windswept hair and thick, worn out cloak he was probably a rather frightening sight, and tried to soften it with a warm smile.

"Good afternoon, Jarek. Admiring the gnomes?"

The boy recovered from his shock, and immediately went back to his usual closed-off stance. "Just...looking." His eyes wandered back to the gnome, warily following the creature's movement as it decided to give up on the worm and dig up some nettle plants instead.

Remus remembered that in Europe, gnomes were taken much more seriously because they often carried rabies. "Your mother probably told you to stay away from gnomes, didn't she? But the one's we have in England are much more harmless than yours."

He moved quickly, grabbing the gnome at the neck before he could escape, and held him up for the boy's inspection. Jarek flinched back at first, but there was a certain curiosity in his eyes now.

"You see their teeth?" Remus asked, pointing at the gnome's face, from which a string of unidentifiable insults was now flying. "They're much shorter; it barely hurts when they bite you. And they don't carry diseases." He held the gnome out to Jarek. "You can hold him if you want to."

The boy hesitated, eying the creature suspiciously, but finally nodded, and took it from Remus. The gnome, sending his chance to escape, wriggled harder and slipped from Jarek's grip, but the boy quickly caught him, holding him up by one leg. Hanging upside down did not improve the gnome's mood, but Jarek ignored his screams of protest and studied him closely.

"Fat," he said. "Ours much thinner."

Remus nodded. "I think some of the students feed them with sweets. Professor Sprout doesn't like that at all, of course. Gnomes wreak havoc on flowerbeds." He indicated the nettle patch which was indeed covered in tiny mounds of earth, the plants ripped out in many places. "She throws them out every other week, but what gnome would stay away at the prospect of a Bertie Bott's bean?"

Jarek frowned, looking up from his inspection. "Why not use...Jarv?"

"Jarvey," Remus supplied, before shaking his head. "We don't really set Jarveys on gnomes anymore; it' seems rather violent considering they don't do that much harm. Normally, it's enough if you just-" He indicated a swinging movement with his arm – "Fling them around a bit so they get disorientated and then throw them away as far as you can. They're not generally clever enough to find their way back – unless baited with sweets, that is."

Jarek stared at him disbelievingly for a moment, as if trying to decide whether his professor was making fun of him. When it appeared that Remus was in fact being serious, he looked back at the gnome in his hand.

"Can I- can I try?"

For the first time since Remus had met him, the guarded wariness had almost vanished from his face, being replaced with curious excitement.

Remus nodded. "Sure, go ahead. Professor Sprout will be thankful." He stepped aside so Jarek had room, and watched as the gnome, still shouting and cursing, was whirled around and hurled over a greenhouse, disappearing behind it.

"Well done! I don't think that one's coming back any time soon." For a second, he saw a proud grin flicker across Jarek's face, even though he hastily replaced it with his usual stoic expression, leaving only his eyes to betray his enthusiasm.

"Look! More!"

Remus followed his gaze and saw that the screaming of the gnome had indeed brought more of his comrades to the surface, poking their heads out of their holes to see what the commotion was all about. "They're not very clever," he repeated, "And stupidly curious. It makes rounding them all up rather easy, in fact."

Jarek threw him a short look, then crouched down next to one gnome, watching him curiously as the tiny creature was picking its nose. Remus in turn watched the boy, wondering if he had finally made progress, or if Jarek would simply return to his shell the next day. Maybe if he was interested in creatures, Remus could send him over to Hagrid to show him a few of the more harmless ones. Although considering Harry's tales of Hagrid's lessons, maybe that wasn't such a good idea. It would be horridly difficult to explain to Val that her son had been eaten by a Blast-Ended Screwt.

The wind carried a ghostly cry across the lake, tearing him away from his contemplations, and when Remus turned his head he saw a dark shadow flying across the forest, less than three feet above the tree tops. Moments later, a second one followed, then a third and a fourth, smaller this time. Remus felt a smile creep onto his face.

The Thestrals always liked a good storm, riding it with an effortless graceonly rivalled by seabirds. As usual, Remus found their appearance calming rather than frightening.

So caught up in his observation was he that it took him a moment to realize that Jarek had gotten back to his feet, staring towards the forest as well. Remus blinked, looking back between Jarek and the Thestrals, wondering if there was something else the boy... no, his eyes were definitely following the winged creatures.

"Can you see them?" he asked quietly. Jarek visibly flinched, and Remus guessed that he had been mesmerized by the Thestrals as well. "Do you know what they are?"

Jarek didn't look at him. "Yes," he said, hastily dropping his gaze and fixing his shoes. "They are...Death Bird. Don't know English word."

"Thestrals," Remus supplied. "I thought it was the same in most languages, though. Who told you about them?" Jarek fixated his shoes once more, and Remus could tell that any sign of opening up had disappeared.

"My grandmother. She told stories. She called them Death Birds. Because...because you have to see person die to see them."

"That's right. Hagrid, the game keeper, breeds them. They're completely harmless, though." He wondered who Jarek had seen die, and if he would tell Remus were he to ask. Maybe he could write to Val about it. "Most students can't see them."

Jarek didn't answer, though he did look back up at the Thestrals. There was no fear in his eyes, just neutral curiosity. "My grandmother said they are bad sign. Sign of death. But that's not true, right?"

Remus shook his head. "No. Like I said, they are harmless. Useful, even. They pull the carriages that get students to and from the school – only the first years arrive in boats, like you did."

Jarek seemed to be only half listening, still staring at the Thestrals. "Grandmother also said werewolves are evil," he finally said, voice neutral. "They eat children."

Remus flinched, feeling like he had been punched. Suddenly he was glad Jarek wasn't looking at him to see the agony on his face. It took him a moment to recover enough to answer. "Some kill children," he finally managed, struggling to keep his voice level. "Or bite them to turn them as well. Some werewolves are evil."

Jarek turned to look at him. There was no fear or hate, or even sympathy in his eyes, just a neutral curiosity. "Is that what happened to you? Did werewolf bite you when you were child?"

Slowly, Remus forced himself to nod, wondering what Val would say if she knew what he was talking about with her elven year old son. "Yes. I was bitten when I was four. My father had upset a werewolf, and he bit me to take revenge."

Jarek regarded him for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You're not evil," he finally decided. "Not your fault you were bitten."

Remus smiled at him vaguely, unsure what to make of this sudden declaration. "I don't eat children, no," he said, finally deciding that he should probably return to his role as a teacher. "But I still have to lock myself away during a full moon so I don't hurt anybody. If I didn't, and if I didn't take the potion, I would still hurt you or anybody else during the full moon. If you want to call them evil or not, werewolves can be very dangerous. You must not forget that."

Jarek considered him for a moment, and Remus couldn't help but feel like his words were being discarded. But the boy nodded. "Yes, Sir. I must get back into castle for dinner."

Remus realized that it had indeed gotten rather late, the sun already vanishing behind the trees. He nodded quickly, secretly glad to end the werewolf conversation. "Yes, you shouldn't miss the Halloween feast. It's quite spectacular. Goodnight, Jarek."

As he watched the boy trot away, scarf still trailing on the ground, he couldn't help but wonder if he had made a mistake in promising Val to look after her son. He had absolutely no idea how to get through to him, or if Jarek even needed help at all.

Good thing you never got to be a father. You'd be crap at it even if it wasn't for the werewolf thing.