Surprise! It's only been two weeks and I'm posting an update! One of my goals for 2020 is to finish this story, and so far I'm doing really well with staying on track. I hope I can keep that promise to you all!

As usual, I am floored by your support. Thank you so much for your reviews and follows and favorites! You make this worth sharing.

-Cat

Warnings: For the next few chapters, Remus' side of the story is going to get pretty dark. Just hold on tight, there's some hope coming, but as a writer I want to build the suspense first (as if I don't already have enough of that in this tale). I'm actually a little nervous haha...

Chapter 22

Beast/Being

The First Moon

He knew the first moon was tonight. He knew in the way his bones were cold and brittle. His organs shifted and twisted. Sweat gathered cool and clammy on his tingling skin. Hands shook. The moon was tonight. It would be rising soon.

His eyes had adjusted to the underground place where he was trapped. It was a cellar of some kind, low, the ceiling braced with thick beams of wood. The floor was concrete and the walls were stone. He knew every inch of it. Pyrites had removed the chains days ago, leaving him free to explore. The exit was a door of sturdy oak at the top of a flight of concrete stairs. It was fretted with iron bands, but it would not be strong enough without enchantments and strengthening charms. He had no idea what was on the other side. He prayed that Pyrites kept this place secure.

Hysterical laughter bubbled in his throat at the irony. A prisoner who was terrified of escape. He wished he could pace, but his legs were far too weak to stand now. So, he closed his eyes, and with shuddering breaths imagined that he was on the torn couch in the Shack, listening to James' soothing voice, to Peter in the background. Even Sirius. In his dog form, his shaggy black head warm on his knee. His eyes were a guileless blue-gray.

"We'll be here until the moon sets, I promise…"

The iron-banded door creaked above.

"You know we'll never leave you right?"

Footsteps. Keys.

His eyes jolted open, his heart skittering into a more agitated rhythm. The exit opened and a man tumbled down the stairs. Then, with a dull boom, the world's only protection was sealed against him.

After

Greyback came.

Greyback always came after first moons. He came after Remus' first, but his father had chased the alpha away and then moved them to a new place. Remus was only four then. He hadn't understood what had happened to him. Only that it was bad. And somehow, maybe, it had made him bad.

This was worse, he thought numbly. The blood was not his this time. He was transfixed by the cracks of crimson caked into the creases of his palms.

"Who's the monster now, Lupin?"

Remus felt the question sink into his skin and deep into his bones and become permanent. Monster.

"Look in the mirror, Lupin. You're no different than me. Did you really think that acting civilized would make you one of them? Human?"

"Leave him, Greyback. I asked you here to dispose of the body, not to torment my guest."

Greyback retreated, pausing only to spit on the flagstones at Remus' feet. The saliva mixed with the dark blood. Pyrites stood calmly at the foot of the stairs. The open cellar door illuminated him with pale light, catching his coin-like eyes and making them look flat and empty.

"You can't go back," he said in a low voice. "Not anymore."

Those pale, pristine gloves reached into the elegantly tailored coat. Like a magician's act, he deliberately withdrew a wand. Remus recognized it. His wand.

"Liam did one last thing for me, besides ensuring your silence. This is in case someone decides to wonder where you've gone. A little trick of the light, another werewolf dies and fades from memory. No one is looking for you."

Wordlessly, Pyrites twirled the wand on his slender fingers, then jabbed it forward. Remus did not flinch. There was no need.

A reflection of himself blossomed out of the wand tip. His own eyes stared down at him, glazed, exhausted, shattered.

Silenced.

June 23, 1986

Silence, Sirius had come to learn, was a rare phenomenon. And in the Burrow, it was a one in a million event.

For a week after the attack on Arthur, Sirius experienced a role-reversal that was exhausting, stressful, and (he admitted) good. He went to work for limited hours, then would go straight to the Burrow so that Molly could spend the majority of her time with Arthur at the hospital. Which left Sirius as the only more-or-less responsible adult to watch their seven children plus Harry. It was utter madness. Sirius' admiration for Molly went up more than a few notches the first day.

Merlin, if James and Lily could see me now…

Because he, Sirius Orion Black, was currently on the floor, covered head to toe in flour and red-headed children. Harry was giggling madly to one side as Fred and George each grasped one of his arms and were hauling him upright.

"That's a point to us Messr. Padfoot!" crowed George triumphantly.

"We are now-officially-winning," Fred announced.

"Perhaps," Sirius said. "But not for long, my young apprentices. You have much to learn. Explosives in the pancake mix. Absolutely inspired. And excellent sleight-of-hand."

He winked at them and their faces broke into identical grins.

"Well shucks, Mr. Black, sir," Fred said with a faux blush.

"Indeed," said Sirius thoughtfully. "It reminds me of the great Marauder kitchen heist of 1975. We enchanted all the pasties in the kitchens to shoot their contents into the face of anyone who dares to eat them. Of course, if your mother asks, I never mentioned this to either of you."

The twins' eyes twinkled mischievously. "Mentioned what?"

"I might tell her," muttered Percy from where he was reading at the kitchen table. Luckily for him, the twins had not heard, so the shouting-match was averted. Sirius vanished the flour and starting a new batch of pancakes. Ginny and Ron were at the stove on stools, taking turns flipping the first batch with a spatula. This was probably not the safest job for two children under seven, but so far no one had gotten hurt.

"You know who taught me the sacred art of pancakery?" mused Sirius as he summoned two eggs with his wand.

"Who?" asked Harry. He clambered back onto his stool next to his godfather, tiny hands clutching the edge of the counter.

"Your mum," Sirius answered. He ruffled Harry's hair with a floured hand, turning it white at the ends. "Except I was pants at it. But since I have such excellent helpers today, I think they've turned out alright."

They ended up with a plate stacked with pancakes in varying degrees of undercooked and burnt. Either way, they tasted delicious when smothered with maple syrup and whipped cream. Bill and Charlie joined them for breakfast and clean up. Sirius learned quite early on that it was better to occupy the kids with cleaning the muggle way than leave them to their own unsupervised devices while he did it himself with magic. It took longer, but at least nothing was on fire.

"When's mum coming home with dad?" Charlie asked, up to his arms in soap suds.

"Any minute," Sirius chirped, glancing out into the sunlit yard. Just beyond the dusty driveway was the tell-tale shimmer of protective wards. Beyond them, at least four aurors were patrolling, hidden from view. The guard had increased since Borgin's arrest, but the low buzz of nervous anxiety in his chest did not lessen. He had managed to forget for a few minutes at a time it in the whirlwind of looking after his charges. Still, a shadowy threat lurked on the edges of his consciousness like the build-up of moisture in the air before a thunderstorm.

Soon, the last of the dishes were put to dry and the countertops were cleared of flour. Bill brought out a chessboard and challenged Ron to their morning round. Harry clambered up onto the table and sat cross-legged to watch. Fred and George pounded up the stairs with conspiratory looks. Sirius watched them go suspiciously, but was soon distracted by Charlie pelting questions at him about becoming an animagus. Sirius answered as vaguely as possible, positive that Molly would have his head if Charlie tried anything.

"So what is it like when you're a dog? Can you think like a human or do you think more like a dog?"

"A little bit of both."

"Did you have to re-learn how to walk?"

"Uh… no?"

"Really? Because dog anatomy and human anatomy is really different."

"It was pretty natural actually. It was getting used to all the new smells that was the hard part."

"What if your animagus form was a bird? Do you think you would naturally be able to fly?"

"I've never known anyone who was a bird, but I'd say that they might have to learn."

"Or a fish! You'd have to be really careful to transform in water."

"You'd have to re-learn how to breathe. Or not breathe?"

Charlie nodded, his eyes wide and serious. "I would not want to be a fish."

"I guess you'd want to be a dragon then?"

"That would be awesome!" Charlie exclaimed. Sirius leaned back and watched one of Bill's knights smash its sword into one of Ron's bishops.

"Aw man!" groaned Ron, as little bishop pieces rolled in all directions.

Bill grinned and said, "Check."

Ron glared determinedly at the board, looking for an escape.

"I went back to the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid like you said I should," Charlie said suddenly.

"Find any thestrals?"

"Yeah, Hagrid let me feed them and everything!" Then he bit his lip and drummed his fingers against the table. "I couldn't find your werewolf though. I looked really hard. But don't worry, I won't give up. I'll go back when school starts this fall."

Sirius felt a painful jolt somewhere in his midsection. He met Charlie's sincere gaze and felt oddly… touched. "Thanks for looking, Charlie," he said quietly.

Charlie turned pink, then turned to watch Ron and Bill's chess game. Sirius did as well, but his mind wandered.

Remus' trail had gone cold after Healer Applebee saw in him December. She had said he had changed. Changed how? Dumbledore had never answered Sirius' question about the long-term consequences of the Mirror of Iunne. In fact, the older wizard had been more cryptic than usual since they spoke after the Mirror. Sirius checked in for updates about the documents found in Pyrites' hideout, but Dumbledore would only say that he was still sorting through them.

As for the search for Remus, there was nothing even remotely related to his friend's whereabouts. It was like he had vanished from the face of the planet and simply ceased to be. But he had to be somewhere… the alternative made Sirius' insides freeze. Dead. Or, whispered an ugly voice in his head, not the same person you knew. He couldn't accept either. He had gone as far as tracking down rogue werewolf packs throughout Britain, wondering if Remus had settled with one of them. He had managed to speak with two separate packs. Then he'd found the London underground pack.

That was on Friday. Even after the weekend had passed, he could still feel the burn of anger.

The tunnels reeked of sweat and refuse, so much that Sirius had nearly resorted to a bubble-head charm. The werewolves squatted on old milk crates and newspapers, grimy hands trading cards and food. Heat flushed their sun-starved skin in blotchy patterns. As Sirius approached, he was blocked by a hunched, broad-shouldered woman with matted hair.

"We don't know where 'e is."

"Who?"

"Greyback. Yer an auror?"

"I'm not looking for Greyback."

"Well 'e ain't 'ere. Been gone awhile. Neither is the other one. So leave us alone."

"The other one?"

"The one what your pal was looking for. Killed someone. Can't remember the name-"

"Carmichael?"

She nodded stiffly.

"When was the other auror here?"

"Couple a days ago. Tall bloke. Y' don' know 'im?"

Sirius had clenched his molars so hard, they still throbbed now.

"I know him."

Fortunately for Augustine Burke, he had been out on an assignment when Sirius had stormed the department that afternoon. Mad-Eye explained furiously that Burke had reopened the investigation into Carmichael's death on the grounds of suspected "new evidence." But then advised that Sirius "pull his head out of the place where the sun doesn't shine" and cool off. They had bigger problems than nosy aurors.

That was three days ago and Sirius' rage had only increased.

There was a loud SNAP from outside, followed by a wailing caterwauling charm which was promptly silenced. Sirius startled out of his mutinous musings and released his clenched fists. Charlie had turned white and the other children were frozen in their places. Loud footsteps sounded upstairs as the twins descended. Sirius stood, drawing his wand after a quick glance outside. Three figures were approaching the front door, two with bright ginger hair. Relief flooded Sirius, but did not let himself relax yet.

"I'm just going to check that it's really your parents," he said calmly. The mood in the room went from tense to excited. "Stay here," he added in his most stern voice.

With swift, confident strides, he went out into the yard, holding his wand loosely in his hand. Despite the blue sky, the air felt heavy. Dark clouds blurred the horizon. A storm was brewing.

"Hullo Molly. Arthur, welcome home."

"Good to be back," Arthur said easily. His gaze was on Sirius' wand.

Sirius smiled disarmingly. "What is your dearest ambition?"

"To learn how airplanes stay up," Arther replied. "When did you tell Minerva McGonagall that you were an animagus?"

"Easter this year. And Molly, what threat did you make as you left for the hospital yesterday evening?"

Molly glared at him, but answered anyway. "That if you destroyed my kitchen while I was gone I would turn you into a flobberworm."

"That you did," Sirius said with a smirk. Then he turned to Mad-Eye Moody.

"It's him, Sirius, we checked," said Arthur.

"Well damn," muttered Sirius, pocketing his wand. "And I had such a good question. I'll save it for later then. Come on in."

Sirius lead the way to the door, allowing Molly and Arthur to enter first, to screams of welcome. But before Sirius could follow, Mad-Eye grasped his arm and held him back. Sirius allowed the screen door to swing shut and retreated back down the two steps. The grizzled auror gave him a quick once-over.

"You survived seven whole days of being a part-time-stay-at-home mom. I'm impressed."

Sirius quirked an eyebrow. "What, you didn't think I could do it?"

"I did," grunted Mad-Eye. "In fact, Nelson owes me ten galleons. He figured you'd only last twelve hours."

"And what did you bet, twenty-four?" asked Sirius grumpily.

"No, I bet that you'd be just fine," Mad-Eye replied, stoic as usual. Sirius couldn't help but let his surprise show on his face. Mad-Eye rolled his normal eye. "Come on, Black, I've seen you with Potter's kid. I had no doubts."

"Oh."

"Still fantasizing ways to murder Burke?"

"No," Sirius lied. Mad-Eye stared at him. "Yes."

"Bigger problems, Black. Borgin was found dead in his ministry holding cell fifteen minutes ago."

Sirius' stomach dropped.

"Why didn't you lead with that?" he hissed.

"Wanted to compliment your parenting skills and subtly warn you to leave Burke alone. He was on call when Borgin's body was discovered. Come on, let's go."

"Wait, let me tell the Weasleys and Harry."

Sirius dashed inside. Arthur was buried under his youngest kids while the older brothers stood by with wide smiles. Molly looked a little teary as she watched. Sirius swept by to Harry. Harry's face was flushed with embarrassed happiness as well, like he was surprised by his own emotion.

"Hey Prongslet. Happy that Mr. Weasley is home?"

"Mm-hm."

Sirius took him by the shoulders. "I have to go for a little bit with Moody, but I'll be back and we can sleep at our house tonight, sound good?"

"Okay. Love you!"

"Love you too."

Sirius stood and clapped Arthur on the back. "I'll be back soon. Bill?"

"Yep?" said the eldest Weasley.

"Show your parents how to use that thing I brought over yesterday."

"You bet!"

Then he turned to Molly who was looking between him and Bill with confusion. Sirius shrugged. "Just something to make things easier. Honestly, Molly, I think that you have the hardest job out of all of us, keeping all these kids in line. Speaking of which, Fred and George are on chicken coop duty today."

Years of experience helped her catch the twinkle in his eye.

"Sirius Black if this prank war has gotten to the point of disrupting my chickens-"

Sirius did not stay to hear the rest of the threat. He was out the door with a quick kiss blown in her direction.

"What did you do to the chickens?" Mad-Eye asked curiously as they hurried to the boundary of the wards.

"Ah, nothing really. Just a few… enhancements."

The magical blue eye rolled in the socket towards the coop. Then Mad-Eye snorted and said, "Well those boys are certainly in for it."

"They have no idea who they're dealing with."

The mood took a considerably darker turn once they reached the ministry. The people in the Atrium and other levels went about their business as usual, unaware of what was going on below in the Ministry holding cells. Sirius grew silent as the elevator doors opened again to Level Nine, feeling a sense of deja vu. It was very quiet, only a few lowered voices drifting from around a corner where the cell bank was. Sirius swallowed as they approached, wavering memories of this hallway re-surfacing with each step.

As they entered the cells, four people looked up: Minister Bagnold, Rufus Scrimgeour, an anonymous coroner, and-Sirius' stomach clenched-Augustine Burke.

"What happened?" he demanded through gritted teeth. He came to a stop outside of the cell and glanced through the bars. The body was covered in a white sheet, looking pathetically small. Curled fingers were just visible beyond the hem.

"Killing curse," Scrimgeour answered. "The guards say they saw no one."

"They said that when Pettigrew managed to break into the Department of Mysteries just over a week ago," Mad-Eye growled. Sirius paused at this, wondering if the body on the floor was Peter's work. You thought you knew him, whispered the voice again. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

"Where are the guards now?" he asked.

"Upstairs in the Auror department giving statements," answered Burke smoothly.

Sirius pushed down his frustration. "They were supposed to be watching him. They just stumbled across Borgin's body after going out for tea?"

"According to them, they had stepped away only for a moment. The body is still warm."

Still warm?

"Have you locked down the exits? Are people searching the levels?"

"I'm not incompetant, Black. I know how to follow through on an investigation." There was a subtle jab in Burke's words. But before Sirius could retort, Mad-Eye cut him off.

"We should send word to the aurors watching Borgin and Burke's to expect visitors. Whoever did this wanted to silence the Death Eaters' connection to the shop. The rest of us should be ready to aid them."

Scrimgeour agreed gravely, while Minister Bagnold looked alarmed.

"Surely you aren't expecting an attack in Knockturn-"

"I don't know what to expect," snapped Mad-Eye. "This whole case has been a series of unpleasant surprises with no explanation and no support from the Ministry."

"Mr. Moody, I would watch your tone."

Sirius tuned out the argument. Through the sheet over Borgin's face, Sirius could just make out the impression of a nose, an eye socket, an open mouth. The man had made an unbreakable vow to keep the way into the Mirror of Iunne secret. What else could he have known? His arrest was what made their investigation public, what brought on the attack on Arthur. Why go to the trouble of breaking into the Ministry to kill one man?

Unless…

Unless this was a distraction. There were other secrets kept on Level Nine of the Ministry of Magic.

"The Department of Mysteries," Sirius whispered, the bottom of his stomach disappearing.

"What?" said Burke irritably.

"The Department of Mysteries," Sirius repeated, louder. "Do you have anyone searching it?"

The clenching muscles in Burke's jaw told Sirius what he needed to know. Burke had slipped up. After all the suspicious activity surrounding the department, Peter's break-in, that should have been the first place to look.

"Let's go," Sirius growled, whirling around and hurrying down the glossy onyx corridor. Behind him, he heard delayed footsteps going after him, one with a tell-tale alternating thunk.

"Even if they went to the Department of Mysteries, it's like a labyrinth in there," Burke said. "They won't find what they're looking for easily."

"Unless Rookwood is with them," Sirius snapped as he turned a corner. At the end of the hallway was a single, black door.

"How many people could have pulled this off without being noticed?" argued Burke. "Besides, when Rookwood was arrested they restructured the whole department-"

"Pettigrew. They could have been sending the rat to learn the layout for weeks before Glass spotted him."

They were at the door now. It was shut. Sirius tried the handle, and was only half-surprised when it turned and the door opened inward. They paused.

"That should only open for authorized personnel," Bagnold stated.

"Yeah," Sirius agreed. He charged into a large, circular room filled with more doors. None of them were labeled.

His companions hesitated.

"Let's go," Sirius snapped impatiently. His fingers clenched tightly on his wand. A bazz of nervous energy arced between the wood and his hand.

"Minister it would be best if only the aurors continue," said Scrimgeour. "We don't know what we'll find in there and our Head of State should remain… intact."

Bagnold nodded after a slight pause.

"Burke, fetch back-up," ordered Scrimgeour once the Minister had retreated. His tone brooked no argument. Burke was gone with a scowl and a whirl of his robes. Then Scrimgeour and Mad-Eye stepped into the room and Mad-Eye closed the door with a snap. Immediately, the walls began to spin.

A/N: Shorter than usual, but things are happening. Please leave a review! I'm going to try not to leave you hanging long. It's a wild ride ahead...