Harry sighed and shifted agitatedly, chewing rather than sucking on his Sugar Quill. He was in no hurry to begin the five-parchment review Snape has assigned for Potions. In another day Pomfrey would release him back into the school and frantic studying for the O.W.L.s would begin. Although the dreaded exams were several months away horrific stories about how terribly difficult they were usually spurred most of the student body into full gear around this time of year. Harry even remembered George and Fred Weasely cracking the books last year. Even though there were still another four months to go he was feeling anything but confident about his chances at passing with a decent amount of Wizarding Levels. He moved on to the next parchment in the pile, skimming absently. Something caught his eye.

The result of adding the powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood is known as:

A strange, unbidden smile quirked at Harry's lips. That had been the very first question Professor Snape had ever asked him at the start of his first year. He felt a pang of nostalgia: it seemed so long ago. Why he was pining for the days of bullying and humiliation from the Potions master was beyond Harry; in any case his first year at Hogwarts seemed so long ago. Only four years, really, thought Harry as he reached for a real quill and wrote The Draught of Living Death on the parchment. Four years isn't such a long time.

He absently read the rest of the packet, unable to focus properly. Despite his questions about what was happening and outright demands to know where his godfather was, he had discovered nothing except that both Percy Weasley and Paul Ranone were to be held on trial before the Ministry. Harry closed his eyes, feeling that if he stayed cooped up in this ward any longer he might be moving into the room at St. Mungo's that Mr. and Mrs. Longbottom had vacated.

The dreams weren't helping either. There were times when he would sit up in the dead of the night, breathing hard and trying not to scream, the crimson of blood-stained snow still fading from his the inside of his eyelids.

Harry glanced down and noticed that his Sugar Quill was halfway gone. With a frown he tossed Snape's assignment onto the bedside stand just as the door of the ward quietly opened. He started as Albus Dumbledore stepped through. "Good afternoon, Harry," he said with a smile. Madam Pomfrey came to the door of her office but did not protest, simply looked at the Headmaster before nodding once and disappearing again. Harry blinked, puzzled for a moment, before launching into a barrage of questions as Dumbledore approached.

"Headmaster...! What's going on? Where's Sirius? Lupin?"

Dumbledore held up a hand and Harry fell silent, biting his lip. "Come with me, Harry."

Harry leapt out of bed instantly, grabbing some robes he had stuffed under the pillow and throwing it over his pajamas. "Where's Sirius?" he demanded again in a low, terse voice, summoning his shoes from somewhere beneath the bed.

"Patience, Harry." Dumbledore's eyes, although tired, twinkled merrily over his half-moon spectacles. He turned and Harry followed after him, not bothering to finish tying the other shoelace. They did not go far: Dumbledore stopped in front of the door leading out of the ward and, waving his wand, murmured under his breath. Then he opened the door and instead of the hallway a small but comfortable room was revealed on the other side. In a plush chair sat Sirius Black beside a narrow bed. Harry gaped.

"H-how...?"

Dumbledore laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "This room does not exist unless summoned into being. But now is not the time for lessons," he said, giving him a gentle push into the room. Black had spun around and stood at the sound of their entry; now his deeply shadowed eyes lit up. "I believe you two will want to catch up," said the Headmaster, nodding to Black. He smiled once again at Harry before backing out of the room. The door closed.

"Are you all right?" asked Sirius immediately and anxiously, crossing the distance between them in two strides and looking into Harry's face with concern.

"I'm fine," replied Harry quietly.

"Are you sure?" Black looked him over one last time before smiling and pulling him into a brief embrace. "I'm so glad you're all right," he said, a bit awkwardly. "I'm leaving tomorrow, you see...Remus needs some time away from people."

Harry suddenly saw the tousled brown head upon the pillows of the bed and a curious, numb feeling came over his body. He walked slowly to Lupin's side. "How is he?"

"Better." Sirius sounded infinitely tired as Harry put a light hand on Lupin's shoulder. "He wouldn't even talk to me for a while. He still wakes up screaming sometimes..." Harry turned and stared at his godfather. Black smiled wanly, studying him. "You look all right." Harry nodded, looking back at Lupin, feeling his eyes attracted to the werewolf like iron to a magnet. He slowly slid down the wall to the floor.

"You, too."

Black frowned and walked over to sit next to him. "What is it?" He followed Harry's gaze to Lupin. "Harry?"

"Are you happy?" asked Harry. His voice sounded strangely hollow, devoid of accusation or anything else. "That he's dead, I mean."

There was a silence. "Peter?"

"You wanted to kill him."

Black drew a long, shuddering breath, pulling his knees to his chest. "I don't know," he said finally. "He saved your life, Harry. At least he had the decency to die that way." The harshness left his tone just as quickly as it had come, leaving his words quivering with tears past shed. "I...I didn't want him to die that way, not that way, killed by Remus. He's not a killer, not like that. I wonder...even now...if he really would have gone through with it that night in the Shrieking Shack. He'll hate himself forever for this." Sirius ran his hands over his face. "I'd give up everything to bring Peter back now, bring him back for Remus."

Harry continued to stare at Lupin's head until his eyes burned. "Why?" Intense anger and guilt rose within him against Pettigrew, against the voiceless words he would be hearing in his sleep for a very, very long time to come. "Why did he do it?" Black looked startled at the vicious, ragged fury in Harry's voice. "I didn't want to see that, God damn it!"

Sirius tentatively rested a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I don't know. I don't know...I only know his debt to you is repaid."

"No." Harry was surprised at his own vehemence, at the way his voice shook and rose to a shout. "Not to my mother. Not to my father! If he had to throw away his life why didn't he do it for them?! None of this would have happened then! NONE OF THIS!"

Lupin started awake with a cry. Black immediately surged to his feet and went to his friend's side, followed closely by Harry. "I-I'm sorry," he stammered, "Sorry." Lupin turned over at the sound of his voice, Black's hands hovering about his shoulders, and threw himself backwards against the wall at the sight of Harry.

"No," said Lupin hoarsely, his eyes wide in anguish. He looked away. "Get out."

Sirius stared at Lupin helplessly. "Remus, it's Harry, it's all right." Lupin shook his head emphatically.

Harry's mouth worked as he moved forward to touch his former professor's back. "Professor Lupin--Remus..."

"GET OUT!" yelled the werewolf hoarsely. "Don't look at me! DON'T LOOK AT ME! Get him out, Sirius, don't let them in, not Rysk either, get him out, get him out...!"

A strange impulse caught hold of Harry. He reached out and grabbed Lupin's chin gently but firmly, tilting his face so that the older man was forced to look at him. Behind him he heard Black gasp quietly; felt eyes boring into his back. Lupin's eyes were sunken and despairing; he flinched away from Harry's gaze. "Remus, look at me." Harry felt odd: older, somehow, and more worldly. The soft confidence in his voice was surprising, as was the smile that crossed his face when Lupin finally looked up at him--for a fleeting second Harry saw in his mind's eye the same warm yet sage expression that Dumbledore so often wore. "It's all right. It's all right."

Harry released him and Lupin drew back slowly, letting out a shaking breath. He sat with his legs over the side of the bed, wrapping his arms about his dreadfully thin body, staring at the floor. After a moment he nodded mutely, seeming much calmed. Harry turned to see his godfather staring at him inscrutably. "Are you hungry, Remus?" said Black at length, his eyes lingering on Harry a bit longer. Lupin shook his head. There was a silence before Sirius collapsed heavily back into his chair. Harry sat down on one end of the bed; Lupin winced but did not move away.

"Was Rysk here?" asked Harry, curious for news of the Defense teacher.

"Once." Black glanced swiftly at Lupin. "A few days ago. She didn't stay long."

"How do you know her?" Harry was unable to contain himself any longer. "How does she know you? Both of you?" He looked between the two adults. "How'd she know where to find you--us?"

Sirius sighed and rubbed at his face. "It's a long story, Harry."

"We have time."

At this Lupin's head snapped up and he caught Black's eye. A long look passed between the two of them before Sirius finally nodded and glanced back to Harry. "I can't tell you everything; just what I can."

"My God, does she pay all of you to keep your mouths shut?" demanded Harry frustratedly, remembering Dumbledore's similar words.

Lupin muttered something under his breath; Black shot him a barbed look. "No." He shifted, looking disconcerted. He leaned forward onto his knees. "Where do you want me to start?"

"From the beginning."

"The beginning. Right." He brought his hands together and tapped them against his lips. "Carmen Rysk came from America. The year after my--our--graduation from Hogwarts, Dumbledore had brought us into the Order. Me, Remus...your father and mother."

"They were Aurors?" breathed Harry, although somewhere deep inside he was not surprised.

Sirius nodded. "Two of the finest. We were so young..." He shook his head. "She was even younger. Came to Hogwarts as a transfer student, at least that's how the story went, and began as a sixth year student. She didn't have the red streaks back then," he added with a faint, dry smile. "I remember; I was at the Sorting Ceremony that day. The Sorting Hat took forever with her, and when it finally announced the house, it didn't shout...it sounded sad, if that's possible."

"Slytherin?"

"Yes. I took a natural dislike to her after that." Black's voice was rueful. "I met Dumbledore in his office after the feast and when I walked in she was standing there, behind his chair, with Fawkes on her arm and petting him like he was her pet. When he started burning up she put him back on his perch, calm as you please, and dusted the ashes off of herself without even watching the phoenix rise again. Dumbledore introduced us and then told her that I was a member of the Order. She nodded and said she knew." Sirius shook his head with a disbelieving laugh, as if reliving the moment. "That was the first time I saw Dumbledore really surprised--I knew my face was. Dumbledore told me...he said, 'Miss Rysk may work with the Order from time to time, Sirius, an extracurricular activity of sorts. Carmen is quite the duellist, and fighter.'"

Harry was unaware that he had leaned forward on the bed, straining to catch Black's every word.

"I suppose I deserved what I got."

"What?"

Sirius looked up and pulled a wry face. "I scoffed, and rather rudely at that. 'Her? Work with the Order?' A second later a knife brushed my hair and stuck into the wall behind me. I've only seen Dumbledore look more angry once, and that was last year with Fudge. Rysk ignored his reprimand until she'd summoned the knife back and repaired the wall--without using her wand. The way he was staring at her, I swear...I would have run away. She didn't bat an eye, just stared at me, daring me to say something." Black fell silent, staring straight ahead into his memories. "I suppose you could call that the beginning."

"Go on," said Harry eagerly.

Lupin lifted his face from his hands suddenly. "No," he snapped at Sirius, who sighed fitfully.

"What?"

Black hesitated. "She worked together with us more and more frequently. Soon she became familiar to the Order, but never really befriended any of us. It was strange, she often slipped out to Hogsmeade and Apparated back to America, according to Dumbledore. Once she went back to spy, but usually she just disappeared over the weekend and never said a word about what she had been doing...she never talked about her past." Here Sirius stopped and bit his lip. A heavy silence fell over the room. A terrible, deep sorrow had come into Black's face, making him look older than ever. "I...I was young, as I said, and I made a great mistake by endangering a touchy mission. I don't believe Dumbledore would have given it to us if the more experienced ones hadn't away on something even more important. I..." Black's voice broke unexpectedly, alarmingly. Harry could see pain in his hollow eyes, not so intense to be bordering on madness as it had been in the Shrieking Shack, but still fresh and dangerous. He was so startled he nearly stood up, but Lupin's quiet voice stilled him.

"Sirius."

Harry stared at his old professor. There was something queer in his voice.

Black shook his head. "I endangered it, and everything went downhill from there. Rysk disappeared after that; never worked with the Order again, except sometimes Dumbledore would pass on information she had gathered from God knows where. I don't know what happened to her...shortly after the incident you were born, Harry, you were born and I was thrown into Azkaban." Sirius's hands were clenched very tightly now. Harry was beginning to feel sorry he had ever pressed his godfather. "I never saw Rysk again, except for now. That was sixteen years ago."

"She was in America," said Lupin, gazing raptly at the floor. He did not sound as defeated and broken as before, but the bitterness in his words was palpable; Harry winced. "Dumbledore spent a while looking for her, but...I don't know. It was as though she had disappeared from the face of the earth. There was no word from her for several years."

"How do you know?" asked Sirius, staring hard at his friend.

"I helped Dumbledore search for a while. How he found her I don't know."

"She knew you," said Harry quietly. "When we told her you were our teacher last year, she knew you."

"Yes. She does."

"She said...well, I heard her say...that she had been out of contact for years." Black shot him a keen but amused look. "She didn't know Sirius was innocent, didn't even know that he had escaped until she found the letter you sent me. I thought she was going to blast Dumbledore or something."

At this Sirius began to laugh quietly, bringing some color into his face. "She would. She would."

"Sirius...what happened?" The moment the words left his mouth Harry knew he had asked a bad question. "What happened to make her leave?"

His godfather shook his head, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. "I can't tell you that, Harry. I can't."

"But--"

"Harry, please." Black's voice was slightly ragged, a subtle warning of what might happen if Harry pressed further. The tension in Sirius's shoulders fascinated and alarmed Harry. "It's not for me to tell."