June 30

This morning, as I was drying the breakfast dishes, I heard a scraping on the door and a faint whining. Dropping the dishcloth in the sink, I hurried into the entryway and opened the door.

A large black dog, almost the size of a bear, hobbled in and collapsed at my feet. One of his back paws was bleeding. I shut the door hastily and by the time it was closed Sirius lay on my floor.

He's less skinny than the last time I saw him, but not by much. He looks at least a decade older than the thirty-five I know him to be. His hair is matted and stale-smelling, and his teeth are yellowed. No one looking at him now could ever guess that he was once the most handsome boy at Hogwarts. "Remus," he gasped, "I – "

"Shh, it's all right, don't try to talk," I whispered. He grasped hold of me, his blue eyes intense and fierce.

"Remus…there's something that I have to tell you…"

"I know, Dumbledore wrote to me. We have to contact the old crowd."

"No…something else I have to say…"

"You can tell me later. First we've got to bandage that foot of yours. How did it happen?"

"Piece of glass…"

"Here, put your arms around my neck." He raised one arm feebly, but I had to help him. His arms were skin and bone, but still surprisingly warm. I put his arms around my neck and clasped his hands together. Then I slid one of my arms under his knees.

"All right, I'm going to carry you into my bedroom. Then I'll wash and wrap that foot."

"Remus, I…"

"Shh, it can wait."

"No it can't, I've waited decades…" My heart jumped. What was he trying to tell me?

"If you've waited decades, you can wait until you're stronger again. Now I'm going to carry you, all right?"

"All…all right."

Lifting him was like lifting a small child of ten, that's how much he weighs. I could feel his ribs pressing against my chest. Once we arrived in my bedroom, I laid him down on the bed. "I'm just going to go into the kitchen to get some things for your foot. I'll be right back."

"Moony, don't leave…"

The old nickname took me by surprise, causing my heart to pound furiously and my breath to come in short intakes. I sat down next to him and looked him right in the eye.

"It's all right, Padfoot. I'm just going a few rooms away. I'll be back within the minute. I'm coming right back, do you understand?"

His claw of a hand grasped mine. "O-Okay."

"Okay."

I left for the kitchen and got some cloth, a bowl of water, rubbing alcohol, and soap. Just in case, I also took a needle and thread.

When I returned, his eyes were closed. They snapped open when he heard my footsteps. I sat on the edge of the bed and took his foot in my hand. The cut was filthy, with bits of dirt and pebbles stuck to it. It's about five centimeters long.

As soon as I dipped his foot into the water, he shrieked. The sound sent shivers down my spine, for it was primal and like that of an animal, hardly recognizable as that of a man.

"Sirius, it's all right! It's just going to sting for a bit. Grip onto something if you're going to scream again."

"I think I'm fine now."

"Okay."

As I washed his wound, he squinted at me. "You look different."

"I grew a goatee."

The ghost of a grin flashed across his face. "A werewolf with a goatee…that's got to be against the laws of nature or something." I rolled my eyes, and he actually laughed. I breathed a sigh of relief, glad to see him acting more normal again.

"Where are we?"

"This is my bedroom. As soon as you're better, we'll move you upstairs to the other one."

He opened his mouth to speak, but than closed it again. By the time I was done with his foot (fifteen stitches) he was asleep. I pulled the blanket over him, and he gave a little sigh in his sleep.

That was around ten o'clock. Now it's about seven in the evening and he's still asleep. I think I'll sleep on the couch in the next room tonight in case he needs me.