A/N: So the first half of this contains some rather serious stuff, especially depression. The rest of it is more of a typical clownery type of thing though, so don't run away!

Year Five: Sirius

"Oh honestly, Sirius, stop moping," Molly told him. He wanted to snap at her again. He WASN'T moping, he wanted to yell. He was perfectly FINE! 'honestly, stop moping'. Well maybe YOU should MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS, MOLLY!

He didn't say that. He instead left the table and stomped upstairs. He then stared into Buckbeak's eyes. "You OK, Bucky?" he asked softly.

"He's fine," a voice said behind him. "Might be craving a walk, but he's fine. What about you?"

Sirius groaned. "I'm fine," he growled. "You can tell Molly to mind her own goddamn business for once, Alex."

His goddaughter sighed softly behind him. "I'm not here on Mrs. Weasley's behalf, Siri. I just... know how you're feeling."

What would you know, he wanted to snap. You're fucking fifteen, girl.

He didn't say anything.

Arms encircled around his midsection as Sirius found himself hugged. "You're still feeling like you're surrounded by dementors," she said. How the...?

"Are you a legilimens?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," she answered, "but don't change the subject. That feeling is completely normal, you know. You're clinically depressed. Simple as that."

Well gee, if it's THAT easy to figure out, what did I even need you for, he didn't ask.

"How do I fix it?" he asked instead.

Alex exhaled. "There isn't an easy fix, you know." Well fuck. "Nor a quick one. I'd suggest a therapist, but the Wizarding World is dreadfully lacking on that front."

"What kind of a help is that?" Sirius sneered. Wait. He said that out loud. Shit.

Alex was quiet for a long moment. "Everyone heals differently," she said. "And I'm not a certified therapist." She paused. "But I can suggest a few things that helped me."

Sirius blinked. "You were depressed? When?"

The girl smiled wryly. "Back in third year, when we first met. The dementors hanging out all year didn't help either, of course, but... yeah. I was very short with everyone. At times I didn't feel like getting out of bed at all. Of course, Poppy didn't let me, and sent me on my way with chocolate and mutterings about the bright idea of Dementors hanging around schoolchildren."

"Did that help?" Sirius asked curiously.

The wry smile remained. "Faintly. Chocolate does contain compounds that are also used in depression medication, but Poppy was treating the symptoms, not the cause."

Sirius grumbled. "Is that what everyone else is doing to me? Because if so, thanks but no thanks."

Alex snorted. "Hah. The Wizarding World has no therapists, and it's lagging way behind the Muggle World in that regard, just like everyone else. Hell, the approach to mental illness seems to be 'lock them up for their own good and hope they get better' which is both rubbish and detrimental."

Sirius realized that he was sitting on the floor. "And they actually think holding me prisoner in the place I hate possibly as much as Azkaban is helping?"

"They're hoping," was the dry answer.

Sirius felt like having a purpose again- before deflating. "But I can't really leave," he whispered. "The Death Eaters know my Animagus form. I'm wanted in the Muggle world. What the Hell could I do?"

A smile slowly spread across his goddaughter's face. "I might have an idea."

Tonks stopped and stared. The watch on her wrist complained about being late to the Order meeting, but the sight that greeted her as she Apparated in was something else.

"A bit to the left!"

A man, so very obviously a painter, wearing a beret and dark sunglasses along with a paint-splattered apron, was ordering around a very strange conglomeration of people.

First, there was a blonde girl wearing an oversized sweater and a waistcoat, balancing herself on a giant black beach ball.

Next, there was a silver-haired boy, wearing odd triangular glasses and looking rather confused, holding an empty picture frame. He was joined to the hip by a shorter black-haired girl holding an umbrella over their heads.

The one the painter was yelling at was a different red-haired girl, somehow hoisting a brown-haired boy in a bridal carry. Obligingly, she took a step to the left.

The painter gave the group a thumbs up. "That's the spirit!"

Tonks blinked. "...What's going on here?"

The painter turned towards her and wait a minute. "Hiya, cousin," greeted Sirius, obviously dyed maroon hair peeking out from under his beret. "Do you like it? We're doing a group piece that's going to be called, 'The Modern Life in the Grim Old Place, As Seen Through the Lens of the Absurd'. Whatcha think?"

Tonks blinked. She then took a closer look at the group of people. Yep. The boy and girl tied together at the hip were Harry and Ginny, both rather bemused, Ron was the one in the embrace of Hermione, both blushing furiously, and the girl doing the balancing act was naturally Alexandra. She looked almost serene up there.

Tonks glanced back at Sirius, who looked the happiest she'd seen him in a long time, shrugged, gave him a thumbs up, and walked the rest of the way into Number Twelve. Why not. She could live with her cousin deciding to engage in disguised clownery. At least the opposition would never expect something like that, or -

THUMP

"MUDBLOODS AND FILTH-"

"Oh shut up, Auntie," Tonks grumbled.