Thanks so much for the reviews! I hope you are still enjoying this story, I worry so much you see. And I'm sorry this update has taken so long! It's just not flowing easily at the moment. :(

52 Vincent Greer

Over the next few days Sirius and Molly made a conscious effort to be polite to one another. Sirius bottled his pride and helped Molly and the kids with the cleaning, though after two days he was itching to get out of the house.

The August heat wave was waining and when I woke at the crack of dawn in service of the Order, my room was actually quite cool. I stood in the centre of the room facing the window and scowled. I wasn't really a morning person. I hated getting up. In fact, everyday I wonder at how I manage it. I watched the sunlight pierce through gaps in the curtains with indomitable brightness. Even though it was waking me up I still had to admire it's beauty. My relationship with the moon is strained at best, so the sun has always seemed very comforting. I ran my hands through my hair, which ignored my attempts to tame it and remained sticking up at odd angles. Then I massaged my shoulder. It was only a few days until the full moon and my bite was aching.

I yawned and scanned Regulus' room for my dressing gown. The room was quite messy. I hadn't changed much: the Slytherin banners were still on the wall and Lilith still looked seductively into the room, from her place next to the wardrobe; but I had brought in many of my things. My books covered the desk, my clothes hung over the chair by the fireplace, my razor, aftershave, lunascope and a few other bits and pieces littered the top of the chest of drawers; and finally, my dressing gown hung on a hook on the back of the door. I grabbed it and pulled it over my bare chest. It was in quite a sorry state: it was very faded, the seems were coming apart in various places and it had worn thin at the elbows. It was no good trying to repair it with magic, it was too late for that. It was a mildly depressing thought that capitalism was so ingrained in society's minds that wizards couldn't even magic away the physical signs of their poverty. Normally I would have got dressed before I went downstairs for breakfast, but I figured it was too early for anyone else to be awake, so I quietly made my way down to the kitchen in my tattered dressing gown.

When I entered I was half way through a yawn so I stepped into the kitchen with my eyes closed. When I opened them I found Tonks smirking at me. I jumped.

"Wotcher." She said cheekily.

"Er, good morning." I said awkwardly as I surreptitiously closed the opening of my dressing gown. "What are you doing here?"

"Hoping to catch you in a half-dressed state." She returned with an impish glint in her eye that made me feel quite nervous. I gave a quiet laugh.

"Well congratulations," I said, "you succeeded." Tonks laughed and ran her hands through her short hair, which was apple green today, to match her Lily-green eyes.

"No, I just finished guard duty." She confessed. Upon reflection I suppose she did look a little sleepy. "Thought I'd hang around here until breakfast – Molly does the best french toast."

"I see." I said as Tonks inspected the kettle heating on the stove. I licked my lips and walked towards her. I stopped when I was about two yards away and rested one hand on the kitchen table, while I put the other in my dressing gown pocket. Tonks looked back at me with that devilish smile of hers.

"You're cute when you're embarrassed." She teased.

"Cute?" I questioned. "I'm not sure I want to be cute."

"Why? What's wrong with cute?" Tonks said.

"Baby rabbits are cute," I said, "girls with green hair are cute," I added with a smile that caused Tonks to blush as she laughed.

"I'm a thirty five year old man, I don't want to be cute."

"What do you want to be then?" Tonks said in a sultry voice as she walked towards me so that we were only a foot apart. I was only in my pyjamas, but the way she looked at me, I could have been dressed in a tuxedo befitting James Bond, a muggle spy that I rather admired when I was a boy. How did this happen? A few months ago I was too old for her, a few days ago I was her aged friend, and now I'm standing next to her with her looking at me like that? Was it just because she had been up all night? Sleep depravation was causing her to forget what I was, how old I was, how dangerous I was. There was an itching in the back of my mind telling me to get out, telling me that this was a bad idea, but I couldn't stop myself.

"I don't know." I murmured back.

"Endearing? Charming?" Tonks suggested.

"Yes, either of those." I said smiling at the woman who was now close enough to kiss.

"You have an eyelash..." She whispered, then she stood on her tiptoes and used two fingers to gently brush an eyelash from my cheek. I found myself breathing very quickly as her eyes flicked down to my mouth. She smiled in a thrilled kind of way and took a deep breath. She leant towards me and I found myself wanting to close my eyes. Then I heard a toilet flush. I blinked in surprise and Tonks grinned sheepishly. I turned to watch Sirius enter the kitchen from the small WC opposite the pantry. I could have clattered him for stealing that romantic moment from me. He was dressed in the black jeans he had pilfered from me and one of his own silk shirts. Even with his messy unwashed hair he looked like a rock star, which only made me want to smack him even more.

"Oh, hello Remus." He said casually. "I'd give it a few minutes if I were you." He added pointing over his shoulder to the bathroom. Tonks couldn't contain her mirth: laughter exploded out of her like the sunlight through my bedroom curtains. I'm glad she found it amusing. But then, she was never going to kiss me anyway.

"What are you doing up so early?" I asked him suspiciously.

"Insomnia. I hardly ever sleep these days." Sirius replied. I'm sure it was at least half true: he did fall asleep in the middle of the day quite often.

"Did you not sleep at all?" I asked with a concerned frown.

"Ah, an hour or two maybe." Sirius replied casually as if it were normal.

"You should make yourself a sleeping potion, Sirius." I told him sternly. "It's no wonder your mood is all over the place if you are only manage two hours' sleep a night."

"My mood is not all over the place." Sirius said making his way towards the recently boiled kettle. "Want some coffee?"

"Er, yes thank you." I said, and Sirius took the hot kettle off the stove. While he made coffee for the three of us I watched his face closely. To everyone else, Sirius was a naturally cheerful person who was occasionally a bit moody, but I knew better. It was much more complicated than that. His cheerful mood and his seconds-away-from-an-explosion-of-fury were sometimes quite difficult to tell apart. The twitch at the corner of his smile was worrying me slightly.

"When are you heading to Sheffield?" Sirius asked me in a would-be causal voice.

"In about half an hour." I replied as Sirius handed me my coffee. Sirius licked his lips and gave me now-hear-me-out look.

"Let me come with you." He said and I opened my mouth to protest but Sirius cut me off. "Look, the werewolf is not going to care that I'm a convict – he wont turn me in, he'd get nicked himself if he did. And he might be dangerous, it might help to have me there."

Sirius looked at me earnestly but I wasn't convinced. I gave him an apologetic look.

"I know how much you want to be involved-" Sirius cut me off with just a scowl.

"No you don't." He said firmly without raising his voice. Tonk's eyes flicked between the two of us and I could tell she was feeling awkward. "You don't know what it's like to have the Order treat you like you're a...a liability. They all love you. And Molly telling me I can't look after Harry..."

Sirius looked away from me at that point and I saw him look shiftily at Tonks, and I knew he wished she wasn't here. Sirius turned back to me.

"It matters to me, how he sees me." Sirius told me in a rushed whisper.

"Harry already has a very high opinion of you. He wouldn't want you to put yourself in unnecessary danger just to prove something." I said quietly. I glanced at Tonks again who was, out of politeness, staring intently at the Daily Prophet and trying not to listen.

"I wouldn't be in any danger!" Sirius hissed. "He would never turn me in..."

"How do you know that?" I said. "He might think by turning you in he'd gain favour with the magical world. And what if someone else saw you? And Sirius, It's not just your safety I'm thinking of. If anyone saw me with you, my cover would be blown. Then there would be two of us hiding from the law."

There was flash in his eyes and for a second I knew Sirius was thinking that he would quite like it if I were an outlaw with him. But then the flash was gone, and was replaced by frustrated angry submission. He breathed out sharply, gave Tonks an unfriendly look then left the room. I knew better than to follow him. Tonks bit her lip as she looked at me.

"He'll be fine." I assured, though there was little conviction in my voice.

"I don't know...He spends an awful lot of time locked in this house." Tonks said sadly. "If I were in his position I would have taken Buckbeak and flown away already."

I sighed and rubbed my eyebrow. "No, here cares too much for Harry and the rest of us to ever do that."

"I hate seeing him like this, though." I added quietly after a long silence.

"I've got a day off today," Tonks told me, "I'll hang around and try and cheer him up a bit."

"Thanks." I said before taking a large gulp of my coffee.

A short while later and I was walking down a silent forlorn street in the north of England. The sun was still low in the sky, and I squinted as I made my way to the battered cottage at the end of a row of terraced houses. The house was largely obscured by the overgrown garden, which threatened to consume it in ivy. I pushed open the rotting wooden gate and made my way along the gravel path, that had shrunk to a quarter of its original size as a result of the grass growing through it and around it. I noticed beer cans, crisp packets, old newspapers, old tires and a shopping basket nestled amongst the grass, obviously having been thrown into the garden by uncaring passers-by. The front door had once been blue but was now a dirty grey colour and peeling in several places. There was no knocker, and the doorbell had been pulled off so that only bare wires remained sticking out of the doorframe, so I knocked the door with my fist. While I waited for someone to come I looked at the crumbling walls and grimy sash windows. Several panes were missing and had been replaced with wooden boards. I could not see into the house through any of them because all the curtains were drawn. I had a feeling it had been years since they were last opened.

I waited several minutes more, but no-one came to the door so, after a quick glance to check no muggles were watching, I took out my wand and whispered "alohomora." The door clicked open and I gently pushed it. It creaked loudly as if it was unaccustomed to being opened, and I stepped inside.

The faded green carpet of the hallway was almost completely obscured with dirt and litter. Letters from over two years ago still rested on the floor where they had landed after being forced through the rusting letter box. Mud and rotting leaves surrounded the cardboard boxes and broken furnishings that had been abandoned in the hallway. And Scrawled onto the walls in chalk were pictures of the full moon. I don't know whether it was because of their slightly jagged appearance or because I had not expected to be faced with a vision of the full moon, but I shuddered when I saw them, and felt an echo of my greatest fear: a full moon that took me by surprise.

I took a deep breath, stepped over the grime and headed towards the first door off the hallway. When I reached it I knocked on it, then tried to push it open after there was no answer. The door was difficult to open probably because there was something on the other side obstructing it. Eventually I managed to open it enough to poke my head around the door. I winced at the stale stench of damp and rotting that hung in the air. The room was full of rubbish, old dirty clothes, what looked like rat droppings, and broken furniture. No sign of anything living apart from several species of fungus. I pulled my head back into the hall and carried on to the door at the end. I had more luck with this one. On the other side was what once must have been a kitchen and adjoining conservatory, but now it was a veritable forrest of magical and mundane plants. Abyssianian shrivelfigs hung from the ceiling, truly beautiful fly-traps and pitcher plants sat in large terracotta pots, asphodel grew over the old kitchen work surfaces, what looked like young Devil's snare fronds poked out through gaps in the old kitchen cupboards, and the conservatory too looked full of japanese daisies, flutterby bushes, hellebore, cactuses, and venemous tentacula.

Hidden among the foliage was the man I was looking for. His name was Vincent Greer, he was about 5'5'', and although human society had more or less abandoned him – or he had abandoned it – as a werewolf he was revered. He was the leader of a pack, or so I had heard, so not only was he an important source of intelligence, if I could get him on the Order's side he would be a useful ally.

"Ah!" Greer cried when he saw me. In surprise, he dropped the mister he had been spraying the tentacula with. "Who are you? What are you doing here?" He demanded in an oddly high pitched voice as he hid behind a spider plant.

"My name is Remus Lupin." I said politely, edging my way through the forest towards him.

"I know who you are!" Greer squeaked.

"I sent you a letter." I added.

"I didn't get it." Greer said still peering at me from behind the plant. I noticed a dirty hand reach towards a pair of blue spectacles sitting next to some empty pots. He snatched them then put them on his face, which was mostly wiry grey beard.

"Oh." I said awkwardly. Greer poked his head above the plant for a few seconds, presumably to get a better look at me, before ducking back down. "I'm sorry for interrupting. I did knock."

"My human ears are a bit deaf." Greer explained. Cautiously he picked up the water mister, and after a pause, he began to spray his plants again.

"This is an impressive collection of plants." I remarked genially, as took a closer look at some of them.

"Mm. Herbology...it's...it's my thing." Greer said eyeing me suspiciously.

"Gosh, is that Dittany?" I asked as I gazed in awe at the pleasant smelling blue-green leaves of a dittany shrub. Dittany was one of the more expensive components of wolfsbane and hardly ever grew in a British climate, in fact I thought it only grew wild on the mountains of Crete. Greer obviously looked after it well.

"Yes. I have Wolfsbane and Hellebore as well." Greer said with a hint of pride. "I cannot make wolfsbane potion, but if you powder the three ingredients and burn them...the smell...it is calming."

"Really?" I said, the intrigue in my voice impossible to hide.

"You can't have any!" Greer hissed, and I smiled.

"Mr Greer, I would like to ask you a few questions." I said politely.

"No." Greer snapped.

"Please, Mr Greer. I don't want anything from you, other than information."

"Information is dangerous."

"So is not having it. Mr Greer I don't know if you are aware, but they say you-know-who has returned -"

"Yes I know." Greer said impatiently. "I wont tell you anything, leave me alone."

I sighed as Greer scuttled towards the open door of the conservatory to the garden. Not to be defeated, I followed him into the garden. Like the back room, the garden was full of carefully grown plants of all kinds. I found Greer sitting on an upturned bucket under a large apple tree.

"Mr Greer," I said gently. "Your house...It is very uncared for. I could help make it more liveable, if you wanted."

Mr Greer scratched at the rough cloth shirt he was wearing and eyed my wand nervously. I wasn't certain, but I think Greer was a squib. His nervousness in my company regrettably seemed to indicate that he had been ill-treated by people capable of magic in the past.

"No! I don't want you to! Please go away!" Greer exclaimed standing up and shaking his hands in front of me. I bit my lip and wondered what I could do to change his mind.

"Er, very well." I said clasping my hands together. I looked down at the neat pathway that snaked in between the packed flowerbeds. Then I glanced back at Greer who was casually stroking the leaves of on the the apple tree branches. His house was certainly a wreck, but he cared for his plants like they were his children. There was a kindness in him, I just had to appeal to it.

"You know," I began, "I said that I could help you, but really, I am the one in need of help."

Greer looked suspiciously at me.

"I've been charged with the task of discouraging werewolves to join you-know-who, but I am as disconnected from them as I am the wizarding world." I said. It was nearly true. Greer scrunched his nose up as he thought.

"You are." He said. "I've heard about you, you know. You were a teacher, and a scholar. An educated werewolf...That's what we could call you, the learned one."

I frowned at Greer's odd choice of words: that's what we could call you?

"You are not like me, or the others. We embrace who we are!" Greer scowled at me like I had personally offended him. "I do not fear the full moon like you do."

I breathed in and out slowly and looked down at the grass unsure how to pull the conversation back onto my ground.

"It doesn't have to be violent." Greer said and I looked back at him. "When werewolves are together...they are calmer. And did you know, that werewolves can be calmed by the presence of other animals – and even wizards in animal form!"

I smiled suddenly, "yes I did know that." Greer blinked in surprise and he smiled briefly, but his face soon became sour once more.

"But still! You like human things, human life. You dream of having a nice house and a normal family. Nice magical children who will go to Hogwarts, a pretty wife who will bake cakes while you read the paper. You want all those normal things. You spurn your animal side."

"It is true, I would love a life like that. I do like 'human things', as you put it. But I don't reject my other self. I accept it's part of me."

"Liar. Look how many scars I have, compared to you!" Greer cried holding out his arms. I noticed they were almost completely free of the whitish streaks that littered my body. "You think it is the wolf attacking the human in you during full moons – but it is not! It is the human in you attacking the wolf! I cannot help you!"

"Wait – what help is it that you presume I need?" I asked as I had started to wonder if Greer had misunderstood my intentions.

"You want to join my pack."

"Oh!" I said smiling awkwardly, "that's not what I wanted." Greer gave me a confused look and fiddled with his beard.

"Really, I just wanted to ask you a few questions about it." I explained. Greer winced again, but despite his reluctance I eventually managed to get him to tell me about his pack.

It was hard to imagine Greer as this important leader of a group of very dangerous beings. You would expect someone like that to be much more imposing than Greer was. Greer was a shy and eccentric human being, but he really was an important werewolf; and a peaceful one. Or at least, as peaceful as a monster hell bent on destroying humanity can be. Every full moon Greer met with about eight other werewolves, and they all transformed together. Greer said that by being in a group each werewolf could learn to control their urge to kill. Greer claimed that he almost felt himself during the full moons, and because he had developed such self control he and a few of the others who took wolfsbane could control the less disciplined werewolves. It was more or less the same system that the Marauders had during full moons. I didn't realise werewolves could exert the same calming effect on each other as Padfoot and Prongs could on me.

"Who are the werewolves that join you on the full moon?" I asked as Greer and I sat underneath the apple tree.

"If I knew I couldn't tell you. They keep their human identities secret." Greer told me, and I sighed. I had suspected that would be the case.

"I wondered if a werewolf called Anthony Driscoll was with you. I met him once, but he seems to have disappeared."

"He is not part of my pack. He er..." Greer glanced nervously around his garden, "he was, for a short while. But he was supposed to transform at the ministry, so those heartless people could cage the poor man."

"Yes, I know. That is where I met him." I confessed and Greer's pale blue eyes widened in shock.

"Oh no." He said quietly. "I feel sorry for you. Did you bite someone like Anthony did?"

"No, uh, it's a long story."

"Oh. Well, the ministry came after Anthony and he had to run from them. I have not seen him since. I fear they may have tortured him for information about my pack." Greer' shoulders heaved as he took a deep breath and he stared sadly at the ground. "The ministry don't like the idea of a group of us together."

"He is not in ministry custody at the moment." I said.

"Do you think they have killed him?" Greer murmured worriedly.

"No, I don't think they ever captured him." I said, thinking of the intelligence Kingsley had provided me with.

"Good...He was a nice boy really – he just hadn't learnt how to control himself yet." Greer said balling his hands into fists and I was touched by how much Greer seemed to care for the werewolves that followed him. "The boy Anthony bit is still with us."

"Really? He's a muggle right?"

"Yes. He finds it quite hard, but he's come a long way since he first came to me."

"Did it not cause a lot of tension for he and Anthony to be in the same pack?"

"It did at first, but the muggle boy forgave Anthony when he saw how distraught with guilt he was. He understood Anthony didn't mean it. It would be a different matter if he had been bitten by someone like Greyback."

The hairs on the back of my neck raised and my muscles tensed at the sound of his name. Greer didn't notice, and I don't think he realised my connection with Greyback.

"Do you know much about Greyback?"

"I know he is in Azkaban. I encountered him once or twice when I was younger – but our philosophies on lycanthropy are quite different." Greer scowled and stroked the trunk of the apple tree as if comforting it. "I want to search for the wolf's peaceful side – he wants to exploit its violent side. He really is a monster."

With a twist in my gut I remembered the monster sinking his teeth into my shoulder. I automatically rubbed the scar he had left me with.

"Do you know if there are any other werewolves who might be tempted to take Greyback's attitude?" I asked.

"Oh of course! We are treated so awfully by human kind. Every werewolf I meet harbours some anger towards them that Greyback could easily exploit." Greer said bitting his lip in anxiety. "Which is why I'm so glad he is locked away."

"And what about you-know-who? Do you think many werewolves could be persuaded to fight for him?"

"Why are you asking this? I thought it was just a rumour that he was back?" Greer asked timidly.

"I'm afraid it's not just a rumour. You-know-who has indeed returned. He is just keeping himself hidden." I said gravely.

"It depends what was offered in exchange." Greer said sadly in answer to my previous question. "I would never work for him – I would never let myself be used just as a weapon – a tool! No matter how much gold he offered me. But the others...I don't know."

Greer looked up at the sun which was now beating down upon us, and then at his precious plants.

"Well, Mr Greer, thank you for answering my questions." I said standing up. Greer stood up as well and I held out my hand for him to shake. He looked at is suspiciously for a few minutes then he took hold of it and quickly shook my hand before abruptly letting go.

"If you ever need anything, help of any kind, please write to me." I said earnestly. "I know you think our philosophies about lycanthropy are very different – but they're not really."

Slowly Greer nodded.

I returned to Grimmauld Place later that day, with an Order report already formulated in my mind, though I wasn't sure whether the rest of the Order would be as interested in Vincent Greer as I was. Which was frustrating, because such an influential and peaceful werewolf would need the Order's protection. However, I put my report to one side, and spent the afternoon helping Sirius and the children clean the house. I was very pleased to find that Sirius' mood had improved. No doubt recounting to Harry stories of the mischief he and Harry's father used to get up to had had a cheering effect.

By four we had just about finished and Tonks instructed me to go down to the kitchen to get some chocolate frogs for us all. I had just sat down on one of the dusty sofas in the drawing room so wasn't all that eager to get on my feet again. Upon seeing my reluctant expression she smirked.

"Go on Remus! I know you have a whole stash in one of the cupboards." She said. I rolled my eyes and poked my tongue out at her. She winked at me and after a mental groan of longing I stood up. As I made my way to the door, Ron suddenly let out a girly scream. He leapt from the floor where he had been sitting and onto the sofa. I looked down and saw that the source of his fear was an enormous spider (about the size of a cat) that had decided to make a dash for the door. With a flick of my wand I immobilised it.

"Must have escaped from the dining room, when we were getting rid of them the other day." Ginny observed wisely.

"Gave you a fright did it little Ronnikins?" Fred teased.

"Piss of, look at the size of it!" Ron defended pointing at the petrified arachnid.

"They are a bit scary." Hermione said, looking at the spider with a studious expression. I picked up the immobilised spider by its rotund hind part and looked at its ugly eight-eyed face. There was an intake of breath as the rest of the room expressed their shock that I would pick up something so vile with my bare hands. Sirius looked especially aghast and disgusted that I would pick it up, so I grinned and held the spider in his face whilst making an 'oooh' sound. Sirius recoiled and yelled at me.

"Urgh! Get it away from me!" He cried. I chuckled, as did a few of the others, and looked at it again.

"You know, I think they are less frightening when they are this size." I remarked casually. "It's the medium-sized ones that are the scariest – the ones that are about as big as your hand. Those could crawl down that back of your shirt or hide in your shoes. These big ones are...sort of like cats."

"What? They are in no way like cats!" Sirius argued, looking at me as if I was crazy.

"Alright, very ugly cats." I said with a shrug.

"Go and get the chocolate, you crazy spider-lover. Honestly, you are as bad as Hagrid." Tonks cried out while the kids laughed. I laughed as well and headed down to the kitchen, depositing the spider into the box full of them in the hall as I passed.

I sought out the chocolate frogs and when I returned to the drawing room I found that it had turned into some kind of jazz party. Sirius and Tonks were at the piano, Sirius sitting on the stool Tonks standing slightly behind him leaning down to reach the keys. They were bashing away at the old thing with vigour forcing the baby grand to emit a very impressive accompaniment to Ray Charles' 'Hit the Road Jack'. They were singing as well. I had entered just as they got to a call and response section that seemed to have been written for them.

"Well baby, oh baby, don't ya treat me this way, 'cause I'll be back on my feet some day!" Sirius sang with a huge smile on his face.

"Don't care if you do 'cos it's understood you ain't got a-no money you just ain't no good..." Tonks sang back in her sublimely sexy voice.

"Well I guess if you say so, I have to pack my things and go!" Continued Sirius.

"That's right!" Tonks cut across in perfect harmony.

Then together they sang: "Hit the road Jack and don't you come back no more, no more, no more, no more..." while the Weasley kids and Harry and Hermione cheered and sang along. I smiled but felt a weird twist of jealousy. Sirius and Tonks just got on so well, like they had been friends all their lives. They were both so lively and witty, I couldn't really compete. Sirius finished the song with a jazzy flourish and the Weasleys applauded them enthusiastically. Tonks gave a comical bow and Sirius said:

"Thank you thank you, we shall be here for the rest of eternity – well I will anyway."

I walked towards them and handed out the chocolate frogs which were received with enthusiasm.

"That was really good." Harry told Sirius with a smile.

Sirius smiled back, "what sort if music are you into then?"

"Oh, er, I dunno. I never got to listen to much at the Dursley's," Harry explained, "Dudley threw a few of his CDs at me once, but well he hasn't got the greatest taste. And wizard music-"

"Is rubbish. I know." Sirius finished.

"Oi! The Weird Sisters are not rubbish!" Tonks argued.

"Come on, they are just ripping off Fleetwood Mac." Sirius returned.

"Okay, so they may have been influenced by Fleetwood Mac, but they have their own style."

"Who are Fleetwood Mac?" Harry asked.

"You don't know Fleetwood Mac? Not even The Chain?" Sirius questioned with incredulity. Harry shrugged and shook his head.

"Come on, I have the record downstairs." Sirius said standing up and beckoning Harry to follow. Once they had left I leant on the piano next to Tonks.

"His mood seems to have improved leaps and bounds since this morning." I remarked.

"Yeah." She said. "He loves having Harry around. I think Harry asked if he could live here if his trial doesn't go well."

"What did Sirius say?" I asked her in little more than a whisper as I watched Ginny and George arm wrestle for the last chocolate frog while the rest of the children cheered them on.

"Oh nothing really." Tonks replied quietly. "I could tell he wanted to say yes though." Tonks raised one eyebrow, silently checking with me that Sirius wasn't half hoping Harry would get expelled.

"He wants Harry acquitted just as much as the rest of us, don't worry."

"He'll get off won't he? Harry I mean." Tonks asked me slightly nervously.

"Underage wizards are allowed to use magic in a life threatening situation. If the Ministry of Magic has any understanding of their own legal system he should be fine."

"Yeah that's what I'm worried about – I'm not sure they do."

(fyi: 'clatter' = irish slang for punch in the face. :) )