Sirius was splayed out in the garden, soaking in the English sun, by the time Remus returned home.

"How'd it go?" he asked, the shadow his friend was casting keeping the sun out of his eyes.

Remus muttered something unintelligible in response as he tried to peer through the front windows, but failed to see anyone other than himself. "Hasn't anyone turned up? It's nearly five."

"As if you could lecture on punctuality," Sirius snorted, wrestling his discarded shirt away from a restless garden gnome. "You said you'd be back by four."

"And I might have made it if I hadn't been stunned for the past hour and a half," Remus answered, tossing a few gnomes in the process and trying for the life of him to keep his blood below boiling point. "So where is everyone?"

"Inside, waiting, but what do you mean you were stunned?" Sirius demanded, hurling a gnome a bit harder than he normally would and noticing the sweat glistening on Remus's forehead, as if the man had run home.

"I'll explain later. How long have they been here?"

"A couple of hours, and you'll explain now or you'll find yourself stunned again."

"Hours? What on earth did they say to you to drive you out of the house?"

"Why? Concerned?" Sirius grinned.

"No, simply looking for pointers," Remus retorted, not missing a beat.

"Actually, they were surprisingly civil, given the…awkwardness of the situation. But since half of them are put out from taking a portkey across the Channel and the other half seemed insistent upon making conversation that would only have to be repeated for your benefit, I decided that I could use a nice lie out. Regain my color."

"Padfoot, there is nothing at all wrong with your 'color'. Perhaps you've forgotten that you spent the better half of a year in the tropics?"

"Yes, but you weren't here to see me go white as a sheet when Arabella turned up, wand in hand, threatening to curse me 'til Doomsday."

"Surely she was just having you on?" Remus asked, knowing that hexing wasn't exactly Arabella's forte but concerned none the less.

"No, she was most definitely buggered, though mainly because I was so reckless as to go after Peter myself, that day."

"Well, she has you there."

"Shaddup and get in the house. And tell me who stunned you!" Sirius repeated as he pushed Remus through the front door. Unfortunately, the dramatic entrance wasn't missed by those inside and soon Lupin found himself surrounded by concern, which was somewhere he didn't want to be.

"I'm perfectly fine!" Remus bellowed over the tittering voices tweaked with a lust for revenge. Of course, the sudden outburst got everyone's attention, as it wasn't often that Remus raised his voice above the volume of the humble and meek. It didn't matter at all that he was neither of those things, not really, but his overwhelming desire to go unnoticed often gave that impression. Once the collective breath-holding reached the point where they would soon be gasping for air, Remus took a seat on the sofa, exhaled with all of his might, and apologized. "I'm sorry for shouting, but I really am fine. I just ran into a bit of trouble at the Werewolf Registry Office."

"They're not actually considering passing that piece of shite, are they?"

This was Mundungus Fletcher, a wrinkled prune of a man, looking ludicrous in Remus Lupin's parlor, wearing a flowery, not to mention blinding, Hawaiian shirt. The unusual attire did not go unnoticed.

"What on earth are you wearing?" Remus laughed, noticing for the first time the paper umbrella sticking out behind his ear.

"Well, before this mutt turned up in my fireplace, I had been summering on the coast," Fletcher answered, jerking a thumb in Sirius's direction.

"Are they considering the new sanctions, Remus?" repeated Arabella Figg.

"I never got far enough to find that out, but by the looks of things, it's all but official. If not, some of the Ministry zookeepers would be facing some consequences for what they did today, not being patted on the back for a job well done."

"What on earth happened?" Sirius asked sharply. "Was there a riot at the protest?"

"As far as I'm concerned, there wasn't. When I arrived, there were about two dozen werewolves sitting on the steps of the Ministry. They weren't even chanting. Really, even a handful of werewolves just sitting there is intimidating enough for most, and they had an intelligent leader, Rowan Brandon. He explained to them that we should try proving our humanity by being as unobtrusive as possible. But then Macnair and his gang turned up, started provoking them with names and insults and even throwing juvenile hexes. All it took was one push from our side before they could declare war in the name of self-defense. Thank god no one was killed, but seventeen are going to be spending some time in St. Mungo's, and probably Azkaban too."

"Were you hit in the commotion?" asked Fletcher.

"No, and that's why I'm so bloody frustrated!" Remus answered, unable to control is temper any longer. "The moment fighting broke out, I apparated to the Being division and got as many of the officials I could to come back with me and try to restore the peace. Five of us got back to the front steps and started disarming people and physically pulling them apart, but then I made the mistake of disarming Macnair himself, just before he turned his wand on a girl that couldn't have been nine years old. He just threw himself on me, wrestled back his wand and knocked me out cold." Remus rose to get a drink as he concluded his story, hoping Sirius wouldn't notice that some things had been left out. If he had, he didn't mention it. The details on the table were more than enough to enrage him.

"I'm gonna kill that fucking bastard!" Sirius screamed.

"Yes, and what a help that would be, Sirius. To have my best friend back in Azkaban, or worse, Kissed. Yes, good plan. Best get cracking," Remus muttered, pushing his friend back onto the sofa with ease.

"Enough of this, let's get to work," interrupted Gilbert Wimple, who had been watching the scene with growing impatience. It wasn't that Gil was unsympathetic to the werewolf cause. And it wasn't that he wasn't angry about the Ministry response (his horns seemed to be flushed with anger, if that was possible). But he had dropped all of his Charm work in order to meet at Lupin's and at that moment he wanted to talk about something more immediate and much more important than werewolf rights and a few bigoted officials.

"Yes," Remus agreed, quieting Sirius with a well-placed glare. "I assume you all know the generals of the situation?"

"We know the bloody specifics as well, seeing as there are so few of them," Liam Cunningham answered. Years ago, Liam had been the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts class at Hogwarts. He had left the post to take care of his daughter when Voldemort killed his wife in the mid-Seventies. He helped with the war all he could, but he never returned to Hogwarts, leaving the position open to a series of temporaries.

"We'll know more once our operative gets some information and Hagrid returns from the Giant camps," Remus answered. It was important to Severus Snape's safety that a minimum amount of people knew of his role in the fight against Voldemort. Remus and Sirius withstanding, only Dumbledore and a few of Hogwarts' senior staff were aware that the Potions master had returned to his role as spy. With Hagrid, however, it was obvious that he was the only man for the job, so secrecy was not that important.

"What do you want us to do?" asked Sirius. He was aware that the instructions from Dumbledore were to lie low and wait until he turned up. Dumbledore had Fudge to deal with at the moment but he had said that he'd come by morning. Still, Remus had some amount of authority in his absence. It wasn't anything that he had done, per se. Merely who he was.

"We're going to wait here until Albus comes. But I can tell you what I think will be coming. Arabella will return home and remain there all summer. The Headmaster will probably tell Harry about you, so you'll be able to have a more active hand in his safety. He'll need it now, more than ever. I'm sure he understands that he can't be running off this summer, but you know that he'll want to, with that family of his and God knows what going on in his mind. Sirius, no matter what you're asked to do, make sure you get over to Harry's a few times a month. I'll try as well, if I can. We'll find a way to make sure he's ok. Liam, I'm sure you're going to be approached about the teaching position."

"I'm not going back," Liam interrupted. "I'll do anything he wants, but I'm not going back there."

"Liam, you can't be by her side forever. She's a grown witch," Arabella entered. She was, of course, referring to Jolie Cunningham, Liam's daughter. She was the reason that Liam had refused to return to Hogwarts. That and the thought that, had he been home instead of off at some boarding school, his wife might be alive.

"I know that. And, whether I like it or not, she's going to be fighting along side us in this thing. So I'd rather take on a bit more than teaching. I don't think I have the heart for it anymore."

"It's possible that Dumbledore has no intention of asking, Liam," Remus answered. "But the post is vacant and it is an important job, preparing these kids and protecting them. I was just guessing that you'd be a likely candidate, experience and all. We all know that I'm not going to get the job. Moving on, Gil, you'll probably be set to work on convincing your Ministry friends that he has returned. I know Arthur is on it as we speak, but one more friend couldn't hurt. Other than that, I don't see what you could do other than continue your Charm research. As we all remember, there's nothing we can do but prepare ourselves to play the defensive, at least at this stage. We'll never be able to go up against Voldemort if we don't have more numbers. Sirius, you're at too great a risk to do anything just yet. We could use some research about the potion Voldemort used to return, what the origins are. We need to know if he can be killed, and we need to know how he can be contained. There must be a weakness somewhere, something that he overlooked. And Fletcher, you're going to have to meet with Arthur Weasley and the older sons and start thinking up ways to secure Azkaban."

There was an almighty groan from Fletcher's corner of the room.

"Well, you're going to have to face him some time, you old goat!" Arabella answered.

"What's this about?" Sirius asked, clearly confused.

"A few years back, he tried to hex Arthur Weasley during a raid," Remus answered, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice.

"I owled him my apologies!" Fletcher added, cheeks flushed. "That old warlock he works with had just confiscated my favorite toy!"

"Which was?" Remus asked, already knowing the answer and unable to hide his grin for it.

"Charmed Muggle binoculars that could see through clothing," Fletcher answered, not a hint of embarrassment or shame. In fact, he sounded rather proud of his ingenuity. Everyone else in the room burst out laughing, all relieved at the opportunity to do so.

"Well, I'm sure that Arthur Weasley bears no grudges," Sirius said once the merriment subsided. "He's a good man. Hell, the whole family is great. So you just swallow your pride and get on with it."

"It's not just that. I'm not keen on doing anything concerning the Dementors," Fletcher answered.

"No one ever is, except Fudge. He has a bloody love for those things," Liam added.

"I had to spend the night in Azkaban," Fletcher continued. "For that incident. A night for trying to attack a Ministry official, even though I never harmed him and he told them so. Tried to get me off with a warning, so I know Arthur Weasley's a good man. Still, I got stuck with this cocky prosecutor that seemed to think a night with the Dementors would teach me respect for the Ministry. You can't imagine what it was like." The moment that last statement came out of his mouth, all eyes turned towards Sirius. Sirius, however, was gracious enough not to point out the obvious, but even his unwillingness to keep Mundungus from feeling guilty about the slip wasn't enough to keep him in his seat. It was hard enough to stomach hearing the simple word "Azkaban". Being reminded of the Dementors always left Sirius with feeling drowned.

"Sirius?" Remus asked, eyes full of concern as he watched his friend make his way over to hall.

"I'm just going to wash my hands," Sirius answered, flashing them a small smile before heading towards the bathroom, locking the door behind him and sinking to the floor.

Once Sirius was out of sight, Fletcher began to apologize. "I can't believe I said that! I can't believe I'm such a Bundimun!"

"I can," Gilbert muttered under his breath. Remus couldn't help but agree, but he'd never say it aloud. Making this situation seem as tense as it really was would only lead to Sirius being either avoided or coddled, and both things would only hurt the man more. So he did the only thing he could do. Lied.

"He'll be fine," Remus said. All fretting ceased, since Remus Lupin was seen as an authority on Sirius Black. In truth, Remus knew that Sirius would not be fine. He knew that he had to get back to the bathroom and see him. But he also knew that if the others doubted Sirius's stability, the potential he had for helping the Order would be undermined and Dumbledore would lose one of his best weapons against Voldemort. "It's getting late. Why don't you all head down to the Muggle pub down the road? I'm sure we can all use a bite to eat."

"What about Sirius?" Arabella asked, shooting a worried look down the hallway.

"I'll wait for him and we'll catch up." Once everyone had gone (some after transfiguring their robes into less conspicuous garb), Remus headed back to the bathroom, unlocking the door to find Sirius retching into the toilet. All he could do was kneel down and pat the man's back, praying for it to stop before he lost his own breakfast.

Once Sirius had regained some composure, he grabbed Remus's arm with his shaky hand and pulled himself up. "I'm sorry," he said, unable to look into his friend's eye.

"What on earth for?"

"I don't know, I just am," Sirius answered. "I hate having you worrying over me."

"Do I need to worry over you?"

"Probably," Sirius answered, admitting to himself for the first time that things were getting worse for him. The first few months out of Azkaban were characterized by denial that he was free, fear that he would be caught, some suspicion that he was really in his cell, having a very vivid, very painful dream, even if seeing Harry on Magnolia Crescent had made it real. By the end of Harry's third year, Sirius had begun feeling hope and happiness again. He had left England, found a paradise, put some weight back on. But for the past few months, his nightmares had gotten worse and worse, and during the day even, his memories of twelve years in hell were hard to ignore. He was beginning to fear that the Dementors would never lose hold of him. Not in any way that counted.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Remus asked.

"Tell me the truth about what happened at the Ministry," Sirius answered.

"Will worrying about me too make you feel better?" Remus smiled, leading them both back into the living room.

"As awful as it sounds, yes," Sirius answered. He didn't need to explain it to Remus. Helping a friend was infinitely better than self-pity.

"Can it wait until later tonight? The others have gone down to the pub and we're to meet them for dinner."

"Fine, but don't think I'm going to forget about this," Sirius warned.

"Oh, I know I'm not that lucky," Remus laughed, and the two men began the walk to the pub.

"Thank god you're here!" greeted Arabella. "I've completely forgotten my Muggle currency."

"And you've lived in Harry's neighborhood how long?" Ian asked.

"I still do all my shopping in Diagon Alley, thank you very much, and I don't see you with pound notes, or whatever they call them, and you live in Oxford!"

Ian handed Remus a few galleons in response. "For all of us," Liam said, garnering cheers from the others. After Remus disclosed that he did have enough Muggle money on him to cover the bill, they resumed eating, Fletcher apologizing to Sirius several times before being told to shut up. The group rushed through their meals, not wanting to miss Dumbledore's arrival. They needn't have hurried, however. An owl was waiting for Remus when they returned, the letter from the Headmaster explaining that he would meet them in the morning.

"There's an Inn in town, but you're all more than welcome to stay here for the night," Remus said. "I've got an extra room and a decent tent that has two beds, not to mention the sofa."

In the end, Arabella stayed in the guestroom, Gilbert and Fletcher set up camp in the backyard, Liam settled for the couch and Sirius moved into Lupin's room.

"I'll take the floor," Sirius said, reaching for an extra pillow and blanket that would seem luxurious to his dog form.

"Don't be ridiculous," Remus laughed, snatching the pillow and putting it back on the king-sized bed. It was one of the few splurges of comfort that Remus had, but it was worth every knut. "There's more than enough room."

"I'd rather not crowd you," Sirius answered.

"What you mean is 'I'd rather not get anywhere near that Itching Powder'," Remus returned, smiling at the scowl on Sirius's face.

"Damn," the other man muttered, taking out his wand and clearing off the bed linens.

"Are you feeling any better?" Remus asked, once they had both settled down, a healthy distance from each other that is.

"Yes, now that I have food in me," Sirius answered, determined to stare straight above at the ceiling.

"How long has that been going on?" Remus asked, hoping to delay his own inevitable disclosure of certain embarrassing truths.

"Maybe a month. Some days are better than others."

"What is it, Sirius?" Remus didn't understand why Sirius was worse off now than he had been last summer. It wasn't as if Sirius had any real guilt weighing him down. Phantoms of it, yes, but he hadn't done anything. He hadn't killed James and Lily.

"I don't even know, Remus," Sirius answered, hating the way his voice stumbled over the words. "I couldn't even tell you what goes through my mind. But sometimes, I'm just back there. And I can't get out, in my mind I can't get out. And that makes me so angry, so nervous, that I just have to fall down or I'm afraid I'd do something very bad. Unforgivable even."

"You'll get through this," Remus said. "I'll get you through this. Don't be afraid to fall, Sirius. Even if people are depending on you, don't be afraid to depend on them. We wouldn't hold being human against you. Just don't hurt anyone."

"I wouldn't-"

"Don't hurt yourself," Remus continued, ignoring Sirius's interruption. "Now, enough about you. Weren't we going to talk about my problem?" The tone of Remus's voice couldn't help but make both of them laugh.

"Oh, it's always about you, isn't it?" Sirius asked, swiftly wiping at his eyes, merely an itch, nothing more.

"Naturally," Remus answered.

"So what happened with you?"

"Oh, I was only joking," Remus grumbled, pushing his back against the headboard and preparing himself to cast a full body bind on his friend if things got out of hand.

"Spill it, Lupin," Sirius said, also sitting up.

"I will, but I'm warning you that I have a wand and I'm not afraid to use it," Lupin warned, and he continued once Sirius rolled his eyes and nodded. "Well, everything I said earlier was true, except Walden Macnair did a little more than knocking me out." Remus could hear the forced steady breathing that meant his friend was more than a little upset.

"First, are you okay? Second, what did he do? Third, did he get away with it? And fourth, since I already know he did, how the hell did he get away with it?!" Sirius asked, voice rising to a shout by the end.

"Keep your voice down," Remus hissed. It was bad enough that the others knew about being stunned. Remus was an honest man, but he did have his pride, and a handful of his respected peers knowing that the Ministry had treated him like a dog did not help it at all. "And he got away with it because I didn't report it."

"Why the bloody not? And what is 'it'?"

"Because it wouldn't do any good. There was no way I could prove it, and any accusation would just circle around a few Ministry offices and then fade away, keeping out of the papers if I were lucky. And if I couldn't prove that Macnair was responsible, the blame would shift to one of the werewolves, and that's the last thing any of them need. We'll get him, Sirius, but not like this."

"Remus, what did he do?" Sirius demanded, his voice threatening that, no matter what it was, Macnair had better relocate.

"This!" Remus yelled, frustrated that he found Sirius so hard to control. I might need my wand after all, he thought, as he pulled up his shirt and exposed the gaping wound, enflamed at the edges where the infection was just beginning to take hold.

"What-"

"He stabbed me. I didn't even see it coming. All my fault, really, let him catch me off guard. He stabbed me with a silver dagger, in the scuffle over his wand," Remus answered.

"Why didn't you go to the hospital?" Sirius asked, moving over to see the wound, summoning some gauze from the bathroom. "You didn't even clean it up! Why didn't you show me this when you got home? You could have bled to death!"

"Sirius, I'm not bleeding at all. I was sensible enough to stop that," Remus answered, shooing Sirius's hand away as the man tried to tape a sterile pad over his abdomen.

"Maybe Arabella knows some first aide charms. I'll go-"

"No!" Remus shouted. "No," he repeated, softening his voice once seeing the look on Sirius's face. "I didn't go to the hospital because there's nothing anyone can do. No one's ever bothered making a cure to save werewolves from silver. They think that silver is the last defense against us, and if it were used, we deserved whatever happened. So not even Arabella could fix this." Sirius was staring at the wound, only two inches long but who knows how deep.

"I'll kill him, Remus. He's dead already," Sirius whispered, eyes hardened in determination.

"Maybe you will, someday, but you can't right now," Remus answered, his own eyes promising to kill Sirius if he even tried to do something so foolish.

"Remus! You-"

Seeing that no argument could dissuade his friend, and knowing that he was in no mood to even make an argument, Remus did what he thought would catch his friend's attention. He showed his pain, wincing as he coughed into his hands. What he didn't expect was to find blood there when he drew his mouth away. "Shit." It wasn't eloquent, but it was his own proportional response.

"We have to get you to a doctor," Sirius said, rushing to put his shirt back on and find his boots.

"I'll be fine," Remus protested.

"You're fucking coughing blood Remus!"

"Yes, but I'm not going to die from it. I'll have a fever for a few days maybe, but I'll be fine. And I already told you that a doctor wouldn't be able to help."

"Somebody has to know enough about medicine to heal you!"

"No, there's nothing."

"A charm?"

"No."

"A potion."

"No."

"A potion! There must be some combination that someone hasn't tried! Even the Wolfsbane Potion hasn't been around forever, so someone must have come up with it. Now someone can come up with this," Sirius argued, his voice so pleading that Remus almost smiled at the privilege. It was nice to be fussed over, at least by Sirius.

"Padfoot, it's the middle of the night. I'll concede and go to an apothecary in the morning, but for now, I'll survive. Just let me go to sleep." Remus hadn't noticed how very tired he was. When he was younger, he had carelessly bit into a silver sickle that was hidden in a Christmas pudding. The tooth he chipped had cut into his gums, just enough to let some of the silver slip into his blood stream. Had he felt this bad then? Probably not. He hadn't been stabbed, either.

"Snape. We'll go see Snape," Sirius said, sounding so happy to have thought of the Potions master that Remus really did smile. And laugh. And wince again as he did so.

"What's so funny?" Sirius asked.

"You. You just sounded so thrilled. Talking about Severus," Remus answered between laughs.

"Well, get your cloak on. We're going to see him."

"Be sensible, he might not even be at Hogwarts," Remus said.

"I'll bloody Fire Call him," Sirius snapped. "Just get your cloak on." With that, Sirius walked out of the door.

"Severus Snape!" Sirius shouted, leaning close to the fire. Sirius could hear something, but Snape hadn't shown his face. Perhaps he wasn't at Hogwarts after all. "Snape! Are you there? It's important!"

Suddenly, Snape's face appeared in Remus's fireplace. "You!" he spat, seeing who had woken him. "This had better be a real emergency, Black."

Sirius choked the urge to tell him where to shove his real emergency…"It's Remus, he's really sick. Can we come-"

"What makes you think I give a damn about some werewolf with a cold?" Snape sneered, forcing Sirius to call upon all of his patience to avoid reaching into the fire and strangling that smarmy bastard.

"Listen to me, you bastard!" Couldn't help it. "It's not a cold. He's been stabbed, the knife was silver and it's really bad. Please!"

"Get to Hogsmeade right now and I'll meet you with a carriage," Snape snapped before disappearing.

"That went well," Sirius muttered, heading back towards the bedroom to check on Remus's progress. Unfortunately, he wasn't there.

"Remus?" Sirius asked, knocking on the bathroom door. Hearing no answer, he walked in, cursing at himself when he found Lupin unconscious on the floor.

"Mobilicorpus!" Sirius shouted, practically flying out the door in his hurry to pass the anti-apparation wards and get to Hogsmeade. It took less than a minute to get them there, but even a second seemed too long for Sirius. True to his word, Snape was waiting near the train station.

"Who did this to him?" Snape asked as he helped guide Remus into the carriage, which took off the moment Sirius sat down.

"Macnair, this afternoon at the Beast Division. He only just told me. I don't understand! How could he have been perfectly fine an hour ago?" Sirius rambled, not even caring that he wasn't being hostile to Snape.

"Silver is a slow acting poison for werewolves. If one dies from being shot by a silver bullet, it's usually the bullet that does the trick. But even if the wound isn't serious, the silver can usually finish the job. There's no known cure for it," Snape explained, lifting Remus's cloak to inspect the wound. It had now begun to rot. It was all Sirius could do to keep himself from being sick. The fact that the carriage was going faster than a Firebolt did little to ease his stomach.

"There must be something!" Sirius said frantically, once he felt it was safe to open his mouth. "Why did you agree to see him if you couldn't help?"

"I said there was no known cure. I didn't say that I couldn't help!," Snape answered. "Even if we can't reverse the damage the silver is doing, I'm sure Madam Pomfrey and I can do something about the wound and maybe control the infection. Before he passed out, were there any other symptoms?"

"He coughed up blood," Sirius answered, maneuvering Remus onto the cot that Madam Pomfrey had waiting at the entrance. Dumbledore stood beside her, looking more murderous than Sirius even felt. Sirius wouldn't have thought it possible.

Snape and Pomfrey began rushing Remus to the hospital wing and Sirius intended to follow, but was stopped short by Dumbledore. "Sirius, please come to my office. If anything can be done for him, they will help," Dumbledore said, his hand tugging at Sirius's elbow. Sirius was reluctant to leave Remus, but it was true that he was in far more capable hands.

"How did this happen?" Dumbledore asked. They were sitting in his office, the pictures of former headmasters asleep in their frames. Sirius related the entire story to Dumbledore, gripping the sides of his chair when he found the urge to fight too great. After a long silence, Sirius spoke his fear. "He's going to die, isn't he?"

Dumbledore stared at Sirius for a long moment, perhaps searching out the constitution of the man. "No, I don't think so. Not tonight."

Sirius wasn't sure that even Dumbledore could really know this, but it made him sigh with relief all the same. "What do you want us to do?" he asked, needing something in his mind other than the image of his best friend, coughing up blood. And then to block that nagging voice, the one that sounded so much like Remus, saying, "Best living friend, you mean." How could Sirius ever tell him that it wasn't true? How could it not be true?

"Arabella will need to return home, no later than tomorrow morning. Gilbert can go back to work as well, scouting for allies and keeping his ears open. Mundungus can help Arthur Weasley with the Azkaban situation. I'll speak to Liam about resuming his teaching career. And you-"

"Can research the potion Voldemort used to regain his body?" Sirius asked with a laugh. Dumbledore nodded, eyes piqued with curiosity. "Remus said the same exact thing earlier," he explained.

"He would know what to do," Dumbledore said, his voice showing his age.

"I don't think Liam will agree to it though," Sirius continued. "He knows that his daughter will want to help and he's wary of letting her out of sight."

"But she wouldn't be out of sight," Dumbledore answered, eyes twinkling for a moment, shining even brighter against the darkness that surrounded them. "I've asked Jolie Cunningham to take over the Care of Magical Creatures course. Have you seen her journal article on Ramoras? Fascinating."

"What happened to Hagrid?" Sirius asked, hoping that his meeting with the Giants hadn't gone amiss.

"He'll still be groundskeeper here, but his work with Madam Mixime concerning the giants would keep him away from the class far too long. Miss Cunningham will do admirably, I suspect."

"And what about Remus?" Sirius asked, not able to qualify that statement with "if he lives."

"I don't think it was mere circumstance, what happened with Macnair today. Harry saw him in the graveyard and he knows it. Harry's survival has upped the stakes of this fight already. Voldemort will not waste time. He's going to come after the Order, and perhaps today is proof of that. When Remus recovers, he and Amos Diggory will begin recruiting as many magical creatures that they can. Last time around, Voldemort had many dark creatures on his side simply because we were too stubborn to ask. We cannot allow that to happen this time."

"What did Fudge have to say?" Sirius asked.

"Fudge is many things, but he is not a stupid man. He knows that parents would not stand for my removal from this school. He did try to convince me that Voldemort is gone and that Harry needs to be committed and that Severus needs to be sacked, but in the end, we agreed to disagree. Hopefully Arthur and his Ministry friends will help turn his heart, but until then, we do everything unofficially. And when the school term resumes, anyone in the Order of the Phoenix that is not already residing in London will either move to Hogsmeade or take rooms in the castle. Voldemort didn't dare attack Hogwarts last time around, but he won't be so timid now. And we'll find a way to keep everyone safe until this is over."

Soon after, Sirius found himself heading down to the Hospital wing, running into Snape on the way.

"How is he?" he asked, unable to interpret the lightness in Snape's features. He wasn't sure how happy the man would be if Remus had died.

"He's better than could be expected. We'll know by dawn if there are any lasting effects, but he'll survive the night," Snape answered. Sirius mumbled a thank you and hurried past, ignoring Pomfrey's blustering as he sat down beside Remus's bed. Remus was sleeping, but it was the kind of sleep that he could wake up from, and that was enough to comfort Sirius. He fell asleep in the chair, hoping that, some day, he could tell his friend how frightened he truly was at the thought of losing him.