You might be thinking, 'that was a long three weeks …' you'd be right, it was nearly five. Sorry about that! It's a lovely long chapter though so I hope that makes up for the delay.

Beta'd by the very clever Mirabelle P, lovely work you gorgeous thing, thank you! xx

Sirius's corner of Auror headquarters was little different these days than it had been during the war. He still shared a cubicle divide with Frank, there were maps and posters and protocol lists plastered all over the walls and his robes still hung on the coat stand more often than he wore them. He did have a newish swivel chair (his old one had perished in the great office-chair joust of '91) and now there were a couple of photos tacked up among the work-related wall decoration.

His favourite of these pictures still made him chuckle even though it was faded and nearly ten years old. It showed Hermione smiling for the camera – until a large splat of mashed pumpkin hit her unexpectedly in the face. A little plastic spoon waved defiantly in and out of view at the edge of the frame, clutched in a guilty and very chubby pumpkin-covered fist. Before the picture began its loop again Hermione spluttered and shot a very stern look in the direction of the catapult spoon. Sirius grinned at the memory. Flora had become an expert shot with her spoon, it had taken them months to train her not to flick food at any target she could find. Their progress had been impeded by the fact that Sirius couldn't help but laugh every time it happened, therefore encouraging the eighteen-month-old to do it again and again.

Sirius skimmed his case notes before he packed them into his bag. Frank had added the transcript of his interview with Fawley to the file that morning after he'd returned from Hogwarts. They'd decided that Remus only really needed a guard while he was asleep – a decision brought on by what Frank had recorded as "the victim's vehement insistence."

Understandably Remus was not pleased to have people watching him constantly. Sirius wondered if Remus had actually shouted at Frank – he must have be very insistent to change the Auror's mind.

Sirius left Auror Headquarters for the lifts. If there was a small silver lining in this whole situation, it was that even though he was kept awake at night wondering who on earth would try to hurt one of the most morally considerate people in Britain, Sirius now got to leave work at two o'clock in the afternoon. Perhaps he'd have time for a nap before he set off for Hogwarts that evening.

Sirius's mind fell to Hermione and her future secrets as he waited for the lift to rattle down to him. The obvious conclusion based on context was that in her original time there had been something between Remus and Tonks. It seemed very dubious to Sirius however. Remus was nearly fifteen years older than the young Auror, generally rather serious and would more often than not choose a book and a fireplace over the pub for a Saturday night these days… whereas Tonks lived to duel bad guys and frequently attended rock concerts. It must have taken something extreme to push the two of them together in any world.

The lift finally arrived and Sirius stepped aboard. There were two young chaps already inside – they were mid-conversation and both holding a towering arm-load of files all stamped with the Ministry of Magic insignia.

"Yeah," the taller of the two was saying, "the muggles even beat them there apparently. You know, they have those huge red trucks with the sirens and garden hoses? Sloshed water all over it before the emergency reversal squad could get there."

The other man, who was pale and freckly with a head of gingery blond straw said, "I heard Mitchell from downstairs complaining about all the paperwork. The muggle firemen were flummoxed apparently, no matter how much water they threw at the house it just kept burning. The old bird who lived there got out alright though so I guess that's something."

"Level three," said the lift.

The two men moved past Sirius, still balancing their file stacks and the taller one said, "Mitchell complains about every bit of paperwork work, this probably wasn't even that bad."

'Odd,' Sirius thought – house fires were not that common in the wizarding world despite their love of candles, chimney travel and portable blue flames. The only fire that was really worrying to a wizard was Fiendfyre, the terrifying cursed fire Sirius knew all too well, but normal or even magic flames of the non-sinister variety could all be vanished quite easily.

Remus was sitting up in bed when Sirius arrived. He was concentrating on folding a piece of parchment into a tiny paper dart, his tongue caught between his teeth as he ran his thumbnail across a fold, pressing it to a stiff crease. There was a pile of messily folded newspapers, books and some very muggle-looking magazines on his nightstand, so many of them that they were partially spilling onto his bed.

"Padfoot!" Remus said, the moment he saw him, forgetting his paper plane at once. His tone was so brightly cheerful it made Sirius suspicious.

"What's got into you?" Sirius asked, looking around, half expecting some sort of comical booby trap to be set off despite the fact that it was Remus in the bed and not James who'd be much more likely to find such a gag worth the effort involved.

"Nothing," Remus said lightly. His face practically shone with happiness. "Just pleased you're here, Frank said you were on duty tonight."

"Righto," Sirius said slowly. Remus grinned expectantly at him and Sirius asked, "Has the Matron given you something different with your medication today?"

"No…" Remus sighed. "Well, I have a funny feeling there was some uplifting elixir in my painkiller actually. Poppy keeps muttering about my listlessness." He rolled his eyes. "I'm not listless, I'm bored. So bloody bored. I think I've read every book in the school. I feel fine but she won't let me leave."

"You're bored?" Sirius repeated in horror, as he dumped his bag down and peered a little closer at Remus's face. Remus nodded and Sirius asked sharply, "Why did Hermione shout at you at Flora's fifth birthday party?"

"What?" Remus spluttered in complete confusion, but when Sirius just stared at him stubbornly Remus clicked, and then muttered indignantly, "I'm an imposter now, am I?"

Sirius shrugged. "Remus Lupin does not get bored. Now either answer the question or I'll haul Snape up here to do some polyjuice tests, and because it's Snape I'll have to argue with him, and that will just make a big scene and – "

"Fine," Remus burst out. "And for the record, she should have been shouting at you. Padfoot's the one who ate the chunk out of the cake, I just tried to fix it – I wasn't to know that transfigured pink icing would turn all Flora's nursery friends pink from toes to piggy tails when they ate it."

Sirius snorted, satisfied that this was Remus, just an unusually bored one. "And I thank you," he said graciously. "To this day she thinks your sweet tooth was to blame."

"It wouldn't have been so bad if half of them hadn't been muggles," Remus said, obviously happy for any kind of distraction, even one that involved false accusations.

"Hermione only insisted on the muggle nursery for a year," Sirius said. "You know it was just to piss off my mother."

"That does seem to be one of her main goals in life."

"It is," Sirius said happily, plonking into the visitor chair. "So what shenanigans did you and Longbottom get up to last night? Gave Poppy hell I'll bet."

"Very funny," Remus said. "No, Frank's fine, – takes it all a bit seriously if you ask me. Excellent work ethic and all that, but he's hellishly dull compared to you or Auror Tonks."

"That's true," Sirius said. "So dull stuff first then? Then you can help me decipher my secretive wife."

"Hermione's got a secret?"

"Yes, but first," Sirius flourished his case file, "the run down." He grinned at his friend before he went on. "Wesley Fawley, the NHS Inspector, was interviewed today. Me, Frank and Moody all had a go with him. We all came to the conclusion that it's unlikely it was him, so we're back to square one a bit. The plan for this week is talking to Snape and Poppy – we'll see what they have to say... Anyway, Frank and I have been thinking – Greta was fine so the potion can't have been faulty. So Frank thinks, and I have to agree, that someone might have done something to you preceding the full moon…"

Remus eyed him suspiciously. "Why do I get the feeling your threat about Severus wasn't a joke?"

"Yeah," Sirius exhaled heavily, already annoyed with the prospect of having to talk to Snape. "Unfortunately Slimeball knows his curses, and since he happens to be on site we can get his professional opinion with much less fuss than that of an outsider." He grimaced at Remus, and said regretfully, "I do promise not to cover him in amphibian entrails though, if that's what you're worried about."

Remus gave a quickly stifled snigger. "Christ I wish I'd seen that," he said enviously. "So then, I've been made immune to wolfsbane you reckon?"

"Mate, I really don't know," Sirius said honestly. Remus's tone was light but behind his carefree attitude, Sirius could sense the very real fear he was trying to keep squashed down. "Once we have permission to talk to the kids we might have a better idea, but if Flora knew anything she would have been in McGonagall's floo to me right away, so I'm not that hopeful."

"Do you know what's really scary about this?" Remus asked. His affected casualness was even more transparent now. He twisted the sheet tightly between his fingers. "You know, other than me having to deal with that horrible shit every month."

"What?" Sirius asked cautiously.

"That if it can happen to me it can happen to anyone. Wolfsbane has been seen as infallible, people trust it. What will they think when it comes out that there is a way to stop to working?" Remus was clearly anxious, "Whoever's at fault will have to be kept silent somehow or years of equal rights progress could be undone."

Sirius had not thought of that. Moody kept banging on about keeping the investigation private, but when they made the arrest, they would have to make it public to convict the culprit. Wizengamot trials and their records were public property.

"Werewolves still have opponents out there," Remus said quietly. "And a chink in the armour like this would give them a real chance to raise public opinion against us."

"Remus," Sirius said sagely, "will you not think about the global repercussions of your little accident for one second?"

Remus looked like he was going to interrupt so Sirius hurried on. "You do remember who my wife is? She's probably already working on some cleverly drafted piece of legislation that somehow turns those opponents into criminals under the Equal Rights Act."

Remus let out a heavy breath and asked hopefully, "Is she really?"

"She didn't say she was," Sirius admitted, "but come on, it's Hermione. She almost certainly has a draft of something like that neatly tucked away in her 'I will fix the world' folder."

"I wouldn't actually be surprised if that was true," Remus chuckled. "She's done a pretty good job so far… Maybe that's what I need to sort my life out, more folders."

"You need a woman," Sirius corrected at once, seizing the chance to change the subject. It was an excellent way to get Remus's mind off the werewolf self-loathing that seemed to be more present than ever today. Sirius knew Remus was generally happy with his lot in life, but it was no secret between them that the he wanted a girlfriend.

"Really?" Remus said with half-hearted sarcasm. He looked like he wanted to add, 'This again?'

Sirius nodded confidently, determined to cheer his friend up. "If a man thinks he needs more folders, then what he actually needs is a woman. It's sound logic Moony."

"Fair," Remus said. "So who do you have in mind this time?"

To his credit Remus even managed to sound interested, though the track record of dates provided by Sirius should have meant he met the suggestion with trepidation at best.

"No one, it was just an observation." Sirius shrugged. Remus still looked quite disbelieving so he tacked on emphatically, "Really."

"Why don't I believe you?"

"At a guess I would say Patricia – or Louise?" Sirius smirked. "No, Margaret, she was the real disaster, wasn't she?"

"Every girl you've sent my way has been a disaster," Remus huffed. "But yes, Margaret with her 'I do it doggie style' t-shirt would have to take the crazy cake."

"Good looking though," Sirius said, struggling to keep a straight face.

"Yes," Remus allowed, "but you know..." His eyes widened a little as he remembered. "She was absolutely bonkers, and only ever interested in the attention that comes along with me."

"I don't know many decent looking women who aren't a bit mad," Sirius said, really just trying to get a rise out of him. "And you'd rather interesting than dull."

Remus wasn't so easily bated. "I'd rather dull than deranged though," he said seriously.

Sirius laughed.

Remus had obviously had enough being reminded of these disastrous dates because he asked slyly, "So what about Hermione then? Which is she?"

"Nice try," Sirius said. "She's secretive is what she is – one of her second-time-around ones too."

"Oh really?" Remus said interestedly, "Those seem to get fewer and fewer the closer we get to 2001."

"Yeah, she always says our time is different to the one in her past. But it turns out some things are constant."

"So do you have any idea what it's about this time?"

"Actually I sort of do," Sirius said, wondering if he should tell Remus his theory. Surely it couldn't hurt, and it seemed rather fitting considering the previous discussion. "I was talking about coming to guard you tonight and I told her that both Frank and Tonks had had a turn, and she asked if you and Tonks got along."

"So?"

"So, do you remember, near the end of the war, that day you rescued Hermione from the muggle police, when she came to stay at my place for good?"

"Yes," Remus said. He paled just slightly as he carried on, "I – I went to see Dumbledore and then came back to your flat."

"Merlin, we got so shit-faced that night," Sirius said, wondering if it was memories of the war or the hangover that followed that particular drinking session that made Remus look so uncomfortable. "But I'm sure I told you then that Hermione said you got married in the future, and that I knew the girl you'd marry."

Sirius had thought about this on and off all afternoon – if he had known the girl it must have been someone he'd known in '81, otherwise Hermione would have said it was someone he would know, not someone he knew currently (current being '81, not now in '93). Sirius frowned. There was a reason he tried to avoid thinking about things like this; clever he might be, but the tangle of futures and pasts and previously-lived-presents and current presents required more brain capacity than he possessed. Tonks fit the confusing bill however – Sirius hadn't met her until after Voldemort's defeat, since Andromeda had cut herself off from the family completely, but he had known that his cousin had a daughter.

Remus was looking at him in mild concern and Sirius realised he'd stopped talking mid-thought and was now staring rather gormlessly at his bedridden friend.

"Is that why you set me up on so many terrible dates?" Remus asked in sudden accusation.

"Maybe…" Sirius hedged. "I figured you might get lucky and meet her early." He smiled winningly and Remus scowled a little. "But when I mentioned Tonks at lunch today Hermione got that smug 'I know something'look."

"Auror Tonks!" Remus exclaimed, his scowl replaced by amusement at once. "Sirius, the girl's barely twenty! I would've thought she'd have had plenty better suitors than an old werewolf."

"Old?" Sirius said indignantly. "Bugger off, we're young and sprightly, thank you."

"Sprightly?" Remus laughed, his eyebrows tented in slight incredulity. "No, I mean in the world Hermione knew – I'm not the same man, she's told me that many times. I was poor, saw myself as a burden on everyone else, I didn't trust wolfsbane to keep me safe, and people still hated werewolves. Why would a pretty, clever thing like Tonks want to marry that depressing bugger?"

Sirius thought he had a very good point. But he clung on to a tiny little bit of promise. "You think she's pretty?"

Remus flapped a hand in dismissal. "Of course I do, she is pretty, it's hardly a matter of opinion. I suppose she'd be able to hide anything she didn't like about her appearance anyway," he mused.

"She doesn't though," Sirius said. "She looks just like her mum did when she was that age, except for that bloody mental hair."

"I sort of like it," Remus said, with and odd little smile. "I've never seen anyone with pink hair before."

"So you think she's pretty and you like her hair?"

Remus rolled his eyes. "What are we, thirteen? It's an observation, like how Longbottom always looks smart in his suits, or how Hermione thankfully looks like herself again now that her hair is back to brown."

'Merlin, she really does,' Sirius thought, but before he could tease Remus about checking out Longbottom, Madam Pomfrey appeared around the curtain. She was wheeling a cart with bandages and potions piled up on the right-hand side, and a covered dinner tray taking up the left.

"Mr Black," Madam Pomfrey said, addressing him the way she had when he was at school, rather than by his professional designation, Sirius thought she did this as a subtle way of getting her own back for all the mischief she suffered through. He didn't really blame her. "I must tend to Remus's injuries. Auror Longbottom found this a good time to go and fetch himself some dinner from the kitchens – the elves only send what is required for patients up to the ward."

Sirius frowned. Frank had left Remus alone while he was treated? That seemed unlike him. If someone was watching and waiting for a moment to try and get to Remus again, the time when he was vulnerable with unbandaged wounds seemed ideal.

Remus obviously realised Sirius's concern because he explained, "Frank did a check of the wing and then locked the doors behind him."

"Ah clever Frank," Sirius said, reassured. He left the two of them alone and had a quick poke around before going off to find a house-elf cooked meal – a guilty pleasure when one is married to Hermione Granger.

Remus was happy to learn that this would be his final bandage change. The deep wounds across his abdomen were closed. Three long, pink-on-the-edge, red-in-the-centre slashes now ran from his left hip bone to the underside of his ribcage on the right. He was very glad he hadn't seen them when they were fresh. He still had clear memories of the injuries he'd caused himself as a teenager, he didn't need to add to that with ones that were, by Madam Pomfrey's own admission, testing.

"You'll be free to go in the morning Remus," Madam Pomfrey said kindly. "I know you would have liked to get back to work earlier, but I just couldn't risk you over-doing it and tearing those."

"I understand," Remus said. "You've been very good at keeping me informed, thank you Poppy. I'm sorry for giving you such a scare."

"Silly lad," Madam Pomfrey clucked. "I must have told you a hundred times when you lay in here as a boy, it's not your fault, and I'll happily admit that I enjoyed your company, even back then."

"You did?"

"Of course, all the other children whined and complained about injuries and bad tasting medicinal potions, all except for you, the boy with the worst injuries and the most potions lined up on his nightstand. You always had the loveliest manners."

"I hope I still do," Remus said, noticing the past tense.

"Yes, though you're less patient these days," Madam Pomfrey said with the slightest reprimand in her voice.

Remus felt a tiny bit guilty for hurrying the Matron along every full moon. "Sorry," he apologised, "I have so many demands on my time now."

"Don't we all dear," she said knowingly. She waved her wand at the bed covers and they pulled themselves up.

"Sirius says they're going to interview you this week," Remus told her, unsure whether she would already know.

Madam Pomfrey was tidying the top of her trolley, slotting away empty vials and unused bandages. She looked up to reply. "Yes, I've been expecting as much. I think old Alastor would have given the order for me to be dragged away in irons if they hadn't had Mr Fawley to question first. Mr Moody was spitting tacks through the floo on Saturday afternoon."

Remus was quite glad he'd slept through the drama of the first few hours following the full moon. He was in no doubt that his opinion would have just confused things. He found the idea that Madam Pomfrey had anything to do with any of this preposterous. "Moody's just worried because it would be a media shitstorm if this got out." Remus winced at the accidental swear word – Madam Pomfrey had raised a disapproving eyebrow. But he continued anyway. "It could do quite a lot of damage to the public perception –"

"Yes, yes dear, I know," Madam Pomfrey cut him off. "I think you should remember that we're all worried that you got hurt actually. Public perception can go hang. Someone tried and succeeded at bringing trouble and danger into this school, and they managed to hurt you and put everyone at risk. That's what has me concerned." She patted his hair and smiled kindly. "Now, you and Mr Black had better behave in here tonight. I'll not have you getting up to the sort of nonsense you used to find amusing."

"Poppy," Remus griped, semi-embarrassed, "we're adults."

"Perhaps," she said doubtfully, "but there's still muck on the Potion Master's dungeon ceiling that suggests otherwise."

Remus shrugged. "I'll think you'll find I have a very good alibi to prove I had nothing to do with that."

"Yes, you'd been out gallivanting in the forest with your friends all night," Madam Pomfrey huffed. "The height of dignified adult behaviour."

It took a moment for the full implication of this comment to sink in, and when it did Remus's heart seemed to skip a beat, only to pick up double time as he stuttered, "They weren't there all night – I…"

"Don't fib Remus," Madam Pomfrey said sternly. "I know plenty about what went on, both Friday night and when you were a student. I think we were all very lucky Misters Potter and Black decided to pay you a full moon visit."

"How do you –"

Madam Pomfrey fixed him with a look that said quite clearly, 'what sort of fool do you think I am?' and spoke quietly as she fussed with his blanket, tucking it in straight and tight. "How did I notice that following Christmas of your fifth year your injuries suddenly changed from grievous self-inflicted ones to much more minor cuts and bites – bites that mostly did not contain the poisonous compound that causes lycanthropy?"

"Er," Remus flailed, he was at a complete loss on the best course of action.

"Indeed, 'er' Remus," the Matron said in a haughty whisper. "It's not like you four were ever very careful about keeping your voices down in here either."

"Right," Remus said, deciding to just go with it. "Well, um, thanks for not turning them in?"

"As if I would, you'd never been so happy or healthy, I could hardly take that away could I?"

Remus didn't like to point out that her logic, while very sweet, was rather flawed. Instead of one boy being in danger now four were, something the school nurse should have found very concerning.

She gave him another soft smile and motherly pat to the cheek and left him to eat his dinner in peace.

Remus found he was quite starving even with such a revelation pressing on his mind. He decided not to mention it to Sirius just yet, he would just be disappointed that they weren't as clever and stealthy as he thought. Remus powered through his meal, and was just mopping up the last of his stew with a chunk of bread when the creaking of the hospital door announced Sirius's return. It sounded like he'd brought company because he was halfway through a sentence as the door swung closed again.

"I have to hear back from your mother before I can give you a date, but it's really nothing to worry about," Sirius said.

"Easy for you to say," answered a student's voice that Remus could have picked out anywhere – the drawling toff accent of Draco Malfoy. "You're not the son of a convicted Death Eater, the other Aurors won't be so even handed. They hate my kind."

"Draco don't be so dramatic," Sirius replied disparagingly. "Your kind is a thirteen-year-old wizard, that's it. Neither Longbottom nor I see the importance of your relation to Lucius as anything more than our own is. Frank's his cousin, remember, as am I… on both sides I think."

"I suppose," Draco said sullenly. "But why do you need to talk to me anyway? I didn't go near the potion."

The footsteps came to a sudden stop and Sirius asked sharply, "And how do you know about the potion?"

There was dead silence and then Draco said, "Er, Flora told me?"

"Flora told you?" Sirius repeated.

"Yes," Draco said firmly. "Today, at lunch."

"Okay then," Sirius said, and Remus was surprised to hear such doubt in his friend's voice. "I'll leave you to it."

"Thanks Uncle," Draco said.

Sirius sidled around Remus's curtain and sat down in the visitors' chair again. He looked deeply concerned. "I've just been lied to," he said softly. "Merlin, that kid better not have anything to do with this." He waved a hand in Remus's general direction, lightly encompassing the murderous assassination attempt and possible derogation of a decade of equality legislation.

"What was the lie?" Remus asked, wondering if Sirius had stumbled upon some new evidence while on a hunt for dinner.

"That Flora told him about this," Sirius said at once. "Because she doesn't know. If she did she would have been here visiting you, or like I said earlier, she would have been in the floo demanding I tell her what happened."

"She might not have wanted to get caught knowing something she wasn't supposed to?" Remus suggested. Flora was very good at avoiding trouble, unless it was for talking in class.

"It's Flora," Sirius said, as though the flaw in Remus's reasoning was obvious. "She'd think of a reason to pop in and happen to see you here. Draco's come to get his arm checked, he does every day. It would be the perfect excuse for her to come up here; tagging along with her cousin."

"True…" Remus agreed. "But he wouldn't want to turn me wild – what motive does he have?"

"I'll get back to you on that," Sirius said grimly.

Remus thought that it was unlikely a thirteen-year-old was behind this. Harry knew that Snape had been accused of attempted poisoning, and that it had happened at the full moon. Both boys were clever enough to draw the conclusion that the wolfsbane potion was at fault. He could have told Draco… but then why would Draco not just say that Harry had told him?

"Merlin, did you see this?" Sirius said, picking up one of the many discarded Daily Prophets that littered Remus's bedside table. The picture on the front page was of a burning farmhouse. Remus had read the article already, it was from today's edition.

"Yeah, Prongs will be gutted – all that North Kesteven grass up in smoke."

"I didn't realise it was there," Sirius said, looking more closely at the picture. "I heard some blokes talking about it at work, is it near to –"

Remus nodded, not needing Sirius to finish the question, they both only knew one person who'd lived in North Kesteven. "Quite," Remus said. "It's Mrs Pettigrew's place. The article says the frying pan caught fire, but… I don't know, the Death Eaters that got fifteen years in Azkaban are all eligible to apply for parole this year."

"Not 'til December though," Sirius said at once, he was well aware of the approaching milestone. "And I'm pretty sure I would have noticed if his name was on the current list."

"I thought it might be a warning, a 'we haven't forgotten what you did' sort of thing."

"But Pettigrew of all people?" Sirius said doubtfully. "He's not really high profile – no one except other Death Eaters and us know about his worst crime. I'd think if someone wanted to make a statement they'd go for Narcissa or even old Mr Lestrange, not Peter."

"Or maybe her frying pan really did catch fire," Remus shrugged. "She's getting on now, could be forgetful."

"Maybe," Sirius agreed.

The reminder of Peter and the old betrayal unsettled Remus. Most of the time he could ignore what Peter had done to them – his name was hardly ever said aloud so it was easy to keep it out of mind. But the smallest mention always brought it all sweeping back. Hearing Madam Pomfrey say 'the four of you' just before, when she was speaking about their time at school, was enough to make him cringe a little. Remus liked to think if himself as a reasonably well-adjusted twentieth century man, one who was comfortable expressing his emotions. But when it came to Peter and his selfish choice and what seemed to Remus like ten years of wasted friendship, he could barely speak the traitor's name in his head without it making his eye twitch agitatedly.

Remus drifted off to sleep that night with a head full of Hogwarts memories. Disturbingly these were broken up by flashes of the result of Peter's actions – the choppy recollections Remus had of his duel with Voldemort – bright green light, the sinister ghostly pale face, the cruel taunting hiss issuing from the black hood. Madam Pomfrey must have given him some sleeping draught, Remus realised blearily before sleep stole over him, because there was no way he should be able to sleep with such disturbing pictures in mind.

A few hours later, when the ward was dim and silent, Sirius watched Remus mutter in his sleep. He was so glad his friend was better. And he wished that he could have whatever it was the Matron gave to her patients to make them gain a restful sleep – to be able to drop off so quickly would be wonderful. 'Not tonight though,'Sirius thought. He turned a page of The Prophet he was reading – the noise of the paper crinkling seemed very loud in the now peaceful ward. He smirked as he read the horoscopes: he, as a Scorpio, would apparently do well to remember that following the trodden path wasn't the worst thing he could do. 'Ironic,' he thought, the well-trodden path was exactly how this investigation felt. There was Ministry approved protocol everywhere he looked. But going through the motions wasn't going to find the person who did this to Remus, he was sure of that.

Sirius was interrupted by a thud and the high pitched tinkle of breaking glass followed swiftly by muttered swearing. Sirius leaned back in the visitors' chair and peered out through the curtains. The ward was lit by two low hanging lamps and the square of light that was the Matron's office. Standing in the shadows next to the tall supply cupboard, which was just to the right of the Matron's door was Draco. His blond hair gave him away in the dark, and on the stone floor at his feet, illuminated by the long spill of light from the office door, were several smashed bottles and vials, with their contents trickling out and running in seeping little rivers along the grouting in the stone floor.

"Draco?" Sirius asked in surprise.

Draco's head snapped up, and he looked in Sirius's direction, startled for a moment. "Whoops," he said, recovering himself. "Clumsy me." He scurried away from the cabinet, towards Sirius. "Got my bandages off," he said, waving his newly freed arm.

"It took four hours for Madam Pomfrey to take your bandages off?" Sirius asked nonplussed. That should have been a five minute job, and he hadn't heard Draco in the wing for hours, but then he hadn't come to say good-bye either...

"Yeah, 'kay good night Uncle Sirius," Draco garbled, hurrying down the ward. "Tell the Matron I'm sorry for the mess." And he all but ran from the room.

"Draco –" Sirius began but the door was already swinging closed as he got to his feet. What the hell was the kid up to, fossicking around in the dark?

Sirius walked the length of the room quickly, silently cursing himself for using the muffliato charm on the Matron – she wouldn't have heard any of it. He lifted the spell as he approached her door and knocked softly.

There was no answer. He poked his head around the door frame to see the Matron fast asleep in her armchair with a book open on her chest. She'd obviously been that way for quite some time.

"Excuse me, Madam Pomfrey?" Sirius said.

"Y-yes?" She woke with a start, her book slid from her chest to the floor, flopping closed and losing the page. "Mr Black, is everything alright?" she asked, reading her little upside-down watch and making to get to her feet.

"Yes," Sirius said, cursing himself for waking her. "Don't worry, I just wanted to, er, say goodnight." He wasn't completely sure why telling her that Draco had been lingering around in the dark seemed like a bad idea but it just did.

Madam Pomfrey gave him a questioning look, then she leaned off the chair to retrieve her fallen book, murmuring as she did so, "You always were an odd thing Mr Black."

"I know," Sirius said, very glad that his reputation for unusual behaviour was so well known.

He left the doorway and went back to his post beside Remus's bed, pausing only to vanish the smashed glass and potions from the floor. All the while he argued with himself. Draco was a sneaky kid but he wasn't evil, he wouldn't put all of Hogwarts at risk of werewolf attack no matter the reason…would he?

A/N: Your feedback is so brilliant, and I'm so grateful!

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