Chapter Thirty Six: Harry

It was mid afternoon before they were ready to apparate the fifty miles or so back to Remus' house. After two more months of neglect, the front garden was even more overgrown - the snargaluff plants were threatening to burst out over the walls and the pond was positively overflowing with grindylowspawn. The holes in the thatch were wider than they had been before they left, and the chimney was still tilting at what was now rather an alarming angle … And from the bangs and crashes coming from the coal cellar, it sounded very much like a boggart had moved in there … And yet, despite the fact that the cottage was as shabby and broken down as he was, Remus did not think he had ever seen a more beautiful sight.

Home.

They let themselves in through the front door. The Grindylow tank still stood abandoned on the hall table - seeming like it belonged to a different world. They headed into the kitchen - where they immediately put the kettle on - and sat at the very same table they had sat that first night, drinking tea and dunking biscuits, and everything looked exactly the same - right down to the dripping tap. And yet everything looked different at the same time. Everything was different. The world had changed … or Remus supposed it was him that had changed. The kitchen remained the same, he was just looking at it through fresh, happier - and more experienced - eyes.

Eventually, they wandered hand in hand out to the back garden, and to the little orchard where they had left Buckbeak. The hippogriff seemed delighted to see them - perhaps he had been a little lonely these past two months - and they stayed outside until dusk, throwing apples into the air for him to fly up and catch. Once it was too dark for them to see, they petted him on the beak and then returned inside.

They sat together on the sofa, arms wrapped around each other … just enjoying being free and being home and being together. 'We should get a moving picture screen,' Sirius said. 'It would come in handy for the evenings when we're too tired to do anything more productive.'

'They run on electric,' Remus told him sleepily. 'The house doesn't have it.'

'Oh - could we get it put in?'

'I don't know… maybe. But I can't afford it.'

'I can.' He gave him a kiss, 'which means you can.'

Remus smiled, 'I can't spend your money, Sirius. It's yours.'

'It's ours .'

'We'll see.'

There was a tapping at the window, and they opened their eyes to see a brown barn owl knocking to be let in. He carried a letter and a newspaper. Remus let him inside, tossed the paper to Sirius and ripped open the envelope. 'It's from Dumbledore,' he said - reading the slanty handwriting, listen:

'My Dear Boys,

I hope you are enjoying your first night of true freedom together. I thought you might appreciate a copy of this evening's edition of The Prophet … I'm afraid you only made page 6. Still, I suppose Viktor Krum's pre-match rituals are a much more vital piece of news for the wizarding public to know.

Yours, Dumbledore

'Page 6?' Remus said in surprise. He went back to the sofa, as the owl flew away, and sat beside Sirius, who was leafing past five pages worth of world cup headlines to get to the article about themselves.

Peter Pettigrew Arrested for Historic Crimes

The headline said. Followed by:

Life in Azkaban for an unmasked Death Eater after thirteen years in hiding.

Remus furrowed his brow. 'It's all about Peter?' he said, peering over Sirius' shoulder.

'Yes - we're barely mentioned at all - listen to this:

'The old courtrooms, familiar to us all from those dark days after the war, were opened again for the first time in thirteen years last night - when the wizengamot gathered in the very early hours of the morning to try a newly unmasked and uncovered Death Eater (a Death Eater being a follower of notorious dark wizard You Know Who.)

Peter Pettigrew, 34, confessed to joining the Dark Lord's ranks in the summer of 1980 and acting as a spy, passing along information that resulted in the death of notable wizarding families: the Bones, the Mckinnons and the Potters.

He was also convicted of the mass murder of twelve muggles which took place just days after You Know Who was defeated by little Harry Potter. As an illegal animagus, Pettigrew transformed into a rat and ran down into the sewer he had cracked open - leaving behind carnage in his wake - while the wizarding world believed him dead.

It can now be revealed that he faked his own death, cutting off his own finger and leaving that behind at the scene of the crime. And for all these years he was hailed a hero and believed to be yet another tragic victim of the Dark Lord's most devoted servant. It has now come to light that it was in fact Pettigrew himself who was the devoted servant of You Know Who - and he has been arrested and sentenced by the wizengamot accordingly.

He will spend life in prison for his crimes - with no hope of reprieve.

Sirius Black, who was previously believed guilty of Mr. Pettigrew's crimes, has been cleared of any wrongdoing along with the werewolf, Remus Lupin.

"This is a great day for the justice system of our nation," Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, told reporters, "but if you excuse me I need to get to the final of the quidditch world cup. It should be an excellent match - and we at the Ministry have worked tirelessly to pull the whole thing off without a hitch".'

'That's it?' Remus was incredulous. 'Twelve years in Azkaban and they make it sound like nothing … like you were mildly inconvenienced by the whole thing. They wrote articles about me murdering and cannibalising Bertha Jorkins … and all they say is "cleared of any wrongdoing" - as if it's an afterthought - and then talk some self congratulatory rubbish about quidditch… No one will even know what happened. No one will even notice we're innocent.'

'That's the point,' Sirius told him. 'I bet the Ministry leaned hard on the paper to get it reported this way. Talk about capturing Peter as if it's a triumph for the Ministry, separate him as far as possible in people's minds from my supposed crimes - while admitting it was him that did them - and sweep me under the rug. Notice how they don't name me as "the Dark Lord's most devoted servant", who they all thought had killed Peter? They don't want people to connect the wand sparks. That way no one realises they were guilty of a huge miscarriage of justice. It stops trust in the government being undermined.'

'But it's not right!'

'I'd rather it be this way, than have them arrest us rather than admit they were wrong. I'd rather be ignored than scapegoated. I don't need the world to know I'm innocent - as long as you and Harry know, and I am free.'

'Well - yes - but people don't think you're a cannibal. Poor Bertha didn't even get a mention. There was nothing about what happened last night - they only talk about what happened years ago. Nothing about Voldemort now.'

'They don't want people to panic, I expect. They don't want people to know how close we came to having Voldemort return to power … and they certainly don't want anyone putting two and two together and realising that the Ministry were actively hunting and working against the men who were trying to stop it all from happening.'

'It's sort of terrifying - how corrupt they are. I understand now why you were so convinced we would be arrested.'

Sirius smiled. 'And you call me the naive one.' They kissed. 'Come on - let's go to bed.'

'Isn't it a bit early to go to sleep?'

'I wasn't suggesting we go to sleep.'

...

Much to Sirius' delight, they woke up the next morning to Hedwig tapping on their window again and another letter from Harry.

Dear Sirius and Remus,

I can't believe this has happened! I can't believe you did it! Hermione actually cried, she was so happy for you both. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are very confused - they still thought you were trying to kill me, Sirius. But Fred, George and Ginny at least accept that this version of events makes more sense than Professor Lupin turning out to be a mental serial killer. Percy hasn't spoken about it - he is pretending to be very busy with his report on the thickness of cauldron bottoms. Apparently leakages have been increasing at a rate of almost 3% … I'm sure you can see why that's more important than you two clearing your names and defeating Voldemort.

They both laughed at that. 'Percy's going to fit in well at the Ministry,' Remus said.

We're setting out very early to the world cup - I'll probably already be there by the time you get this. Obviously I don't know how long the match will last - but if it isn't too long, I was wondering if I could maybe come and stay with you from the 23rd? That way I could spend the last week of my holiday with you … although if it's not convenient, I can stay with the Weasleys.

Hope to see you soon. Harry.

Sirius grabbed ink and parchment and started dashing off a reply. As he wrote, his grin was so big and broad that he looked to Remus as if he was seventeen again - with the whole world in front of him and before any of the darkness happened.

Dear Harry,

Of course you can come to stay! You can floo in whenever you want. Bring all your stuff and we'll take you down to King's Cross at the start of term.

Sirius.

He sent the letter off with Hedwig and then looked expectantly at Remus. 'We need to get up - stop lazing around - we need to get this house ready for Harry coming.'

It was all Remus could do to convince him to have some breakfast before he started on his manic cleaning.

...

They spent the next five days getting the cottage ready. They cut back the snargaluff plants and mowed the lawn, and cleared out the grindylowspawn and got rid of the boggart and tended to the flowers and plants that were supposed to be growing there.

They climbed a ladder and spent a perilous afternoon up on the roof, fixing the thatch and retilting the chimney. They fixed the dripping tap - and dusted and cleaned every surface, and made sure they had plenty of food in the house and they put clean sheets on the spare bed and unearthed an old Gryffindor banner to stick on the wall.

'What about some photos of James?' Sirius asked. 'We could put some up for him.'

Remus nodded. 'I'll see what I've got. I'm afraid I might not have many left. Hagrid wrote to me a few years ago wanting photos to make an album for Harry. I sent everything I had that was just James and Lily then. But I might have some of all of us still lying around.'

They spent an evening by the fire poring over photographs that had - up until now - been too painful for Remus to look at, choosing the best ones, cutting Peter out of them and then putting them in frames.

'Have you thought what you're going to tell him?' Remus asked, as they lay in bed that night, 'about us?'

'Why do I have to tell him?'

'You're his Godfather.'

'You're his favourite defence against the dark arts teacher.'

'Well - one of them was controlled by Voldemort and the other was a complete and utter charlatan … it's not like I was up against stiff competition.' He rolled onto his side and stroked the skin of Sirius' arm with his knuckle. 'You don't have to tell him yet - if you don't want.'

Sirius hesitated. 'I think maybe we should wait - just for a bit…'

'You know he really is much kinder and more mature than James was - you don't have to be afraid.'

'Maybe - it's just … I don't really know him yet. I don't want…' he trailed off, as if not sure how to finish the sentence.

'You don't want him to see you differently?'

'Yes … and I don't want it to be all he sees. You saw how people stared at us in Little Hangleton, I don't want Harry to be thinking whatever they were thinking … I don't want him to be ashamed of us. Or embarrassed by us.'

Remus smiled, 'well - you're lucky you're only his Godfather and not his real dad. Because he's fourteen - and all fourteen years olds are mortally embarrassed by their parents. If James were here, if he'd always been here, Harry would not be talking to him right now.'

Sirius laughed. 'Right - but we shouldn't give him extra things to be embarrassed about…' He went quiet for a moment. 'I think it's a good sign - that he asked to come and stay,' he said hesitantly. '- Even though he's already with Ron and Hermione. He isn't coming here just to escape the muggles; he's coming here because he wants to - don't you think?'

'Yes - I think it's clear from all the letters he's sent that he cares about you and genuinely wants to spend time with you, get to know you better.'

'He's never had anyone who is just his before, has he? He doesn't like the muggles; they don't love him. And I think he likes it at Ron's house but - well - it's Ron's house. But he can come here and this will be his home and we'll look out for him and he won't have to share us with anyone.'

'Yes, I suppose he'll be ours and we'll be his.'

'It's what James would have wanted,' Sirius said. His brow furrowed. 'I just hope - once he knows me properly - he still likes me.'

Remus smiled. 'He'll love you. How could anyone not?'

...

For a while the newspapers continued to be full of the world cup final. Ireland had won, though that was not what was being reported on. The night after the match there had been a disturbance in the campsites. Hordes of former Death Eaters had kidnapped a muggle family and tortured them - only to flee when the Dark Mark appeared in the sky.

'They should have reported a bit more thoroughly on the fact that Voldemort had just been defeated once again,' Remus said, his lips pursed with disapproval as he read about the way the poor muggle family had been treated. 'They wouldn't have gone rampaging around like that if they knew how close their old master had come to rising again - they'd be slinking around with their heads down trying not to draw attention to themselves … There aren't many people who would be less pleased to see Voldemort return than the Death Eaters who escaped Azkaban.'

'I bet that berk, Lucius Malfoy, was involved.'

'Oh undoubtedly.'

They sent an owl to the Weasleys' house to check that Harry and everyone was OK. The news came back that they were fine, a bit shaken, and it was Harry's wand that had been used to conjure the Dark Mark, but that they had all got home in one piece.

...

A couple of days before Harry was due to arrive, they apparated to Mr. Lupin's house on the Welsh border. Lyall Lupin was delighted to see his son, and a little surprised to see Sirius after all these years. 'I saw about Peter - in the paper,' he said to them. 'I couldn't believe it … Of course I knew something was wrong. The things they were saying about you, Remus - the things they said you did … And of course I knew if Sirius had sided with You Know Who you wouldn't have run away with him - would never have forgiven him for the Potters. But still … Little Peter was a surprise.'

'No one knows that better than I do, Mr. Lupin,' Sirius said.

When they had had a cup of tea and chatted and reminisced for a while, Remus asked his father where his mum's things had been stored.

'I boxed them all up and put them in the cellar - not right away but … in the end.'

Leaving Mr. Lupin upstairs, the boys lit their wands and headed down into the cellar. It was dark and dank and bleak. Remus made straight for the trunks in the corner. His hands shook a little as he unlocked them.

Sirius stood in the middle of the room, looking around. 'Is this where you used to transform - when you were a boy?' he asked.

'Hmm? … yes…' he wasn't really listening, as he took the lid off the box.

'And you were chained to that wall?' Sirius' voice was somewhere between angry and sad … but Remus barely heard him. He had just lifted one of his mother's dresses from the trunk - it was pale blue and had flowers printed on it … he remembered it. He had forgotten all about it - but he remembered it now he was holding it. Feeling a little silly, he buried his face into the material - and inhaled his mother's soap and perfume … and for just a moment he was a little boy again, lying in his mother's lap, being comforted after a painful transformation.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up from the dress. 'I was just …'

'I know.' Sirius crouched down beside him. 'What else is in there?'

They looked through - finding Hope Lupin's own copy of Pride and Prejudice, along with a whole pile of other muggle books. 'Do you think we can take them all?' Sirius asked.

'My dad doesn't seem to want them - and I'm sure my mum would rather we had them and were reading them than they were locked in a box down here.'

'What are these?' Sirius brought out something black and round and thin, held in a square slip of paper. 'Elvis Presley,' he read, frowning. 'Johnny Cash … Buddy Holly and the Crickets - what? '

'Oh - they're my mum's …' he wrinkled up his brow as he sought out a long forgotten word. '...Records. They play music.'

'Can we take them?'

'We'd need to find her record player … and it was electric.'

'I bet I could get it to work - magically.'

Remus raised an eyebrow.

'I got my motorbike to fly didn't I?'

'Alright - if you can find the record player - you can have her records.' He rooted around in the trunk. 'And here's the Monopoly board. I hope the pieces are still all there.' He folded up the dress and put it carefully back into the trunk, before locking the box again.

They stood up, their arms loaded with Hope's long forgotten treasures. 'This is a good haul,' Sirius said. 'It's better than Christmas … I like muggle stuff. I like the muggle world.'

Remus smiled fondly. 'I know you do.'

...

And then it was the 23rd and - once Sirius had done one last manic clean through the house - it was time for Harry to arrive via floo powder.

He fell out of the fireplace, choking and spluttering at about quarter past two. He was clutching his Firebolt and a rather disgruntled looking Hedwig, trapped in her cage. His glasses had been knocked askew and his face was decidedly sooty. 'I hate floo powder,' he coughed, as Sirius stuck out a hand and helped him back to his feet.

'Where's your trunk, Harry?' Remus asked.

'Oh,' he glanced awkwardly back at the fireplace. 'Mr. Weasley is bringing it - he should be here in a moment. I think Mrs. Weasley wanted him to come and check … you know - that everything's OK here. That you're not really a mental mass murderer and a serial killing werewolf, and that the whole exposing Wormtail as the real spy and sending him to Azkaban, clearing your names and inviting me to stay thing wasn't all an elaborate ruse for you to get me alone so you can kill me.' He smiled apologetically.

'Oh damn,' Remus said mildly. 'You hear that, Sirius? She's onto us.'

Sirius gave his bark of a laugh, just as the flames turned green and shot up higher again. A large shape revolved for a few moments, and then tall, balding Arthur Weasley struggled out of the fireplace with the trunk.

'Here - let me help,' Sirius took one end of the trunk and lifted it out of the way. Mr. Weasley looked rather alarmed to suddenly find himself face to face with notorious mass murderer, Sirius Black, who was being polite and helpful. But he pulled himself together and covered the awkwardness by holding out a hand. 'Arthur Weasley,' he said, introducing himself. 'I've heard … well - I suppose we've all heard a lot about you. I'm glad to hear it isn't true…' He turned to Remus. 'And you must be Professor Lupin.' They shook hands. 'Two of my boys just took their OWLS … my wife isn't happy with the results, but your subject is one of the few that they passed.'

'Did they pass potions?' Sirius asked, his eyes narrowed.

'Fred did.'

'Damn!'

'Sirius was at school with Professor Snape,' Harry explained to Mr. Weasley. 'They don't like each other very much.'

Mr. Weasley nodded and laughed … and then his eyes fell on the record player in the corner - and they lit up. 'What's this?' he asked, crossing to go and look at it. Sirius was beside him in a moment, showing it off proudly. 'It was Remus' mum's … a muggle invention. It plays music.'

'Fascinating! It works on eklectricity?'

'It's supposed to - but I'm trying to enchant it to get it to work without.'

'Wonderful…'

And just like that they both had their wands out and were examining the record player, prodding it and tapping it and discussing what charms worked well with muggle machinery. 'Well - I once had a motorbike that I enchanted to fly...'

'Simply marvellous - I had a flying car once...'

Remus and Harry looked at each other, Remus fought down a smile. 'I'll help you take your stuff upstairs, should I? They could be a while...' He pointed his wand and levitated the trunk, guiding it up the twisting, narrow staircase while Harry stumped along behind him with Hedwig and his broom.

'It's just in here - I'm afraid it's not much,' he led him into the spare room. It was so small that, once the trunk was in there, there was not much room for anything else.

But Harry had seen the Gryffindor banner - and the photos of his dad, and his face had lit up. 'It's brilliant. Thanks.'

'The bathroom's just across the hall.' They headed back to the stairs … and Remus saw Harry count the doors - his own bedroom, the bathroom, and only one other …

'Is that your room?' Harry asked.

'Yes.'

'Where's Sirius sleeping?'

'He's in with me at the moment.' He kept his voice light.

Harry looked confused. 'Have I kicked him out of his room? Has he had to give it up so I can stay?'

'He didn't stay in there even when I put him there,' Remus muttered to himself, before raising his voice to answer properly. 'Don't worry about it, Harry,' he smiled. 'We're used to sharing - we shared a dormitory for seven years. And these past couple of months … Well, the nights we got to share a room were the good nights. It was sharing a forest floor more often than not.'

'But he'll move back in when I go back to school?'

'...No.'

'But -'

'That's your room, Harry. We want you to have a place that's just yours. We want you to be at home here.'

Harry still looked confused. Remus sighed and wished that the sleeping arrangement conversation could have been delayed a little longer. 'Sirius was alone in his cell for twelve years,' he said. 'He doesn't like small spaces - and he sleeps better when he isn't alone. He's happier in my room and I really don't mind him being there.' He felt a little guilty as he saw the confusion clear from Harry's face … to then be replaced by a look of concern. Not that anything he had said was untrue - but it was very much a half truth - and a half truth that was causing Harry to worry. 'He's alright, Harry - really. He's just … adjusting. Come on - let's make a cup of tea; Sirius went thirteen years without a cup of tea… he gets through a lot of them.'

...

By the time they returned to the living room - with four teas on a tray and a plate of biscuits - Sirius and Mr. Weasley had taken apart the record player and had laid all the pieces out on the rug. They were sitting on the floor, picking the individual bits up and tapping them with their wands.

'What did you do?' Remus asked in horror.

'We'll put it all back together, Moony - don't worry - it'll be as good as new.'

'That was my mum's!'

'We will get it working.'

But an hour later, the tea was cold, little progress had been made and though Mr. Weasley's face was shining with enjoyment - he realised he had better be heading back to his family.

'Yes - no doubt Mrs. Weasley thinks we've murdered the pair of you by now,' Remus said drily. 'The aurors will be at our door.'

Mr. Weasley smiled a little uncomfortably - said his goodbyes and stepped into the fire. 'The Burrow,' he said - and with a wooshing sound and a crackle of green flames, he vanished from the house - and then it was just the three of them.

...

Remus did not remember a week when he had laughed so much or felt so happy. Sirius continued to tinker with the record player. Harry spent time outdoors with Buckbeak - racing him on his Firebolt and throwing apples for him to catch. Remus made Sirius spaghetti - as he had promised him back in Rome - and he and Harry struggled to breathe with laughing while watching Sirius try to scoop it up.

They set up the Monopoly board - and patiently explained the rules over and over to Sirius - who always played as the dog and had an unfortunate habit of getting sent to jail.

Harry taught Remus how to say "ambulance" and explained to them that a moving picture screen was called a "television".

'And once I've got the record player working - I'll be able to enchant one of those for us as well, Moony,' Sirius said.

'Don't you dare.'

The three of them walked down to the muggle shop and bought muggle quills ('pens,' Harry told them) and a whole load of crossword puzzle books, which they sent off to Nurmengard as a thank you to Grindelwald for his help. Afterwards, they recounted their adventures to Harry - and he told them all about the world cup.

As the week progressed, the night of the next full moon grew closer - and once again Remus felt the familiar aches and pains. He became more and more tired and his skin prickled constantly. But here at home, with his family, it did not seem to matter as much - and it did not stop him enjoying himself … in fact he had not approached a full moon in such good spirits since he had been at Hogwarts, and had a monthly adventure planned with Padfoot and Prongs … and Wormey.

On the last night of the holiday, they made spaghetti again - (with similar results) - finished off their long standing game of Monopoly (which, despite Sirius having spent much of the game in jail, he somehow managed to win - bankrupting Remus at a crucial moment and putting three new hotels down on Mayfair) and - with great excitement - Sirius unveiled his brand new, good as new, enchanted record player - and they listened to Hope's Elvis record.

They were surprised when Harry knew the words to the songs. 'It's Elvis,' he said to them… 'Elvis - the King - everyone knows all his songs; you just sort of pick them up.'

And then - on the morning of the first - they packed up all of Harry's things, flooed to the Leaky Cauldron and got a taxi to King's Cross.

Out on the concourse, they caught sight of the same muggle guard who had yelled at Remus to put Padfoot on a leash and almost made them miss The Flying Frenchman, right at the very start of their journey. They gave him a wide berth, not wanting to come under his scrutiny again while they were trying to walk through yet another brick wall.

They sent Harry ahead with his Firebolt and Hedwig, and then casually leaned on the barrier and fell through - bringing his trunk with them.

'Professor Lupin, Sir!' Lee Jordan greeted Remus the moment he materialised on platform 9 ¾. The boy's face was lit up with excitement. 'Are you coming back to teach, sir? Is it true you cannibalised a Ministry witch?'

'No! Lee! Of course not! '

Lee's face fell. 'That's what the paper said.'

'The paper lies,' Sirius told him. 'He did kill some erklings, though - and a vampire - and Lord Voldemort.'

'Yeah right, ' Lee snorted disbelievingly and walked off shaking his head.

They found Ron and Hermione, and helped Harry get onto the train with them - and then introduced themselves to Molly Weasley, who was shooting them suspicious glances. And then the clock struck eleven - and the train pulled out of the station in a great cloud of billowing smoke - and they waved until Harry was out of sight. Then they apparated home, sealed up the house and prepared for the full moon.

...

It was a few days later, when Remus was feeling healthier again - and they were sitting together, drinking tea and filling out the crossword puzzle, listening to the sounds of Mr. Johnny Cash, that there was an unexpected knock at the door.

Sirius went to answer it - and came back into the living room with none other than Dumbledore.

The headmaster smiled at them genially and took a seat, refusing an offer of a drink. 'I trust you are enjoying freedom,' he said to them, 'and I hope the last full moon was not too painful for you, Remus.'

The boys looked at each other - it seemed unlikely Dumbledore had come all this way just to enquire after their health - especially as term had just started. Perhaps he understood their thinking - because he nodded and got down to business. 'I came to return this,' he said, bringing out the sword of Gryffindor and laying it down on the coffee table.

They blinked at it in surprise.

'It belongs to you now, Sirius. It presented itself to you. Until the time comes when it chooses to present itself to another such worthy Gryffindor, you are its master… and I am hopeful you will find use for it. You see, I have a proposal for you boys.'

He steepled his fingers together and then surveyed them over the tips. 'You have both proven yourselves very fine, able and powerful wizards. Your work this summer in bringing down Lord Voldemort has hopefully bought our little world a few more years of peace. However, as I told you on the night itself, Voldemort is not dead - no more dead than he has ever been - and he is still out there, biding his time. I told you he has travelled down a dark path, one that means he cannot die. And therefore he will - inevitably - rise again.'

'Then we made no difference,' Sirius said, 'everything this summer - it changes nothing.'

'On the contrary, Sirius - it changes everything. It gives us time. And that is what we need - above all else. You have delayed his return - and perhaps, if we can delay it and delay it again, then when the war does come it shall not be so terrible. Now - I know the pair of you want nothing more than to grow old quietly in your little cottage, enjoying the time you have together after so many years apart … but, alas, when in life do we ever get what we want?'

Sirius glanced at Remus, 'once or twice,' he said. Remus smiled.

Dumbledore's eyes seemed to twinkle for a moment. 'And that is truly a blessing - but for now, I must rob you of your comfortable middle age - and ask instead that you perform a job for me. Become heroes once again. If you are amenable, that is. It will be dangerous - the road ahead will be filled with peril and unspeakable evil … and yet I ask you to face these risks in the hope of finally defeating Voldemort once and for all. And - more importantly to you both - in the hope of protecting Harry. For if you will not perform this quest - I fear that one day Harry may well have to do it himself - and it will be a hard and lonely road for one so young. But you are older, more experienced and will be together - perhaps it shall not be so great a burden for you to bear. What do you say?'

There was a moment of quiet, as they thought about his words - and then Sirius looked across at Remus, a ghost of a grin on his face. 'What about it, Moony? Are you ready for more heroics?'

Remus smiled back, 'you know me, Padfoot, I'm always up for another adventure.'

Dumbledore beamed at them both. 'I knew you would not let me down. Splendid. Splendid. Now, tell me - what do either of you two boys know... about horcruxes?'

The End