Author's Note: Who's at the door, you ask?  Read on and find out!  I wasn't getting to the promised Sirius and Sosia meeting as quickly as I had projected and the Sirius fans were getting restless grin, so I offered up the previous little interlude to appease them.

I realize I piled cliffie upon cliffie there, rest assured that one is about to be resolved.  The other, however, will not be concluded until the aforementioned meeting.  Hey, I gotta do something to keep you all reading grins.

I was going to sit on this chapter a few more days, but I decided to have pity on you all and post it now.

My Reviewers still give me the greatest encouragement known to writerkind: Sosia Camillina, you keep me on my toes with your anticipatory (and plot bunny infested) comments; Rugi and Gwena, your Guide challenges me not to follow conventions and you are wonderfully quick to get on my case when I'm procrastinating; Torquemada, I love how much you enjoy my story; Fainting Maid, so sorry I was so late; Nicky and Rusalka, I'm delighted that you found my story and are fond of it already; and look, Voltora's back waves!

A special hello to M.P.B., I'm so glad you are reading and enjoying my story!  Give all the kiddies hugs from me!

That's enough of that, or my A/N will be longer than the story!

Chapter Nine: Sisters and Signs

As she began to serve them both a freshly made breakfast of porridge, browned mushrooms, eggs, sausage, toast and marmalade, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it."  Remus rose from the table and made for the door. "It's probably Sam, come to check on us." He muttered under his breath as he reached the door and pulled it open.

It was most decidedly not Sam.

It was the blonde woman from the restaurant the previous afternoon—Renee, if he remembered correctly.  Blinking, he stood there, a bit taken aback.  Of the people he would have anticipated seeing, for some reason she had not figured into his expectations.

She did not seem nearly as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

"Still here, are you?"  She inquired tartly, as she remained patiently on the front step.

"Yes," and he stepped aside to allow her in.  "Sosia, it is…"  He turned to the visitor politely, "Renee, correct?"

"Correct."  She replied while divesting herself of coat and hat.  Her expression was, however, both perplexed and a touch stormy as he preceded her into the kitchen.

"Renee." Remus finished his introduction as he sat down again at the table, waiting for Sosia to seat herself before he applied himself to his breakfast.  She offered Renee a plate, which was politely refused, and the two women sat down.

"Sosia?"  Renee dove right in, killing any consideration of diversionary small talk. "Sam didn't mention that your name had changed when he got home last night."

"With everything that happened, no doubt it slipped his mind." Sosia did not seem disturbed by her directness; instead she seemed relieved.

"So, Millie is a made-up name?  I suppose Tomlinson isn't correct either."  Remus noticed that Renee was a great deal more openly confrontational than Sam.  She seemed to be taking the deception as a personal insult.

"Not precisely, my middle name is Aemilia and my mother's maiden name was Tomlinson.  My name in full is Sosia Aemilia Black."

"And you're a witch."  Remus could hear the patent skepticism in her tone and groaned inwardly.  He devoutly hoped that they were not about to be in for a repeat of last evening.

"How much did your brother tell you?"

"I'm not sure, he told me about your being a witch—which I will withhold any judgment on until later, he told me of the reasons you came to London all those years ago and about your brother's presumed innocence.  In short, he told me a lot of things that I find very difficult to believe and a lot of things that are just plain ludicrous.  For instance," she turned to face Remus, "did you actually change a chair into a wolf?"

"Yes."

"Right.  Millie—or Sosia, or whatever we should call you now—I want some straight answers and I want them now.  What exactly is going on?"  Renee was building up a good base of righteous indignation. "Because if you are leading my brother along the primrose path…"  She let the threat hang for a moment.

"Everything I told Sam was completely truthful.  If you would like, I can offer you the same sort of proof."

"What?  Are you going to change the table into a wolf?"  Renee leaned back crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at both of them cynically.

"Perhaps not, that would interrupt breakfast.  What would convince you?  A pincushion into a hedgehog?  A beetle into a button?  The teakettle into a tortoise?"

"Please no," interjected Remus easily, recognizing Sosia's plan of attack. "I haven't had my second cup yet and the tea is never the same after one of those transfigurations."

Renee was put off balance by this exchange and sat forward, uncrossing her arms slightly.  Before she could find a suitable retort, Sosia pulled her wand from her apron pocket and tapped the empty plate sitting beside her.

"Substancio Liquidus."

The plate, no longer made of porcelain, now rippled as her wand withdrew from its surface.  Renee gasped, reaching out to touch the transparent surface of the object.  Her hand went through the plate and she jerked it back, dripping.

"It's water!"  She marveled.  "How is it, I mean how does it… what's keeping it together?"

"Magic.  I changed the material, not the object itself; so until directed otherwise, it is still a plate and will retain that shape."

"Is that really a magic wand?"

"Yes.  I know it sounds silly to someone that grew up on fairytales, but witches and wizards do use them extensively."  Remus couldn't help but note her choice of wording there, not "we" but "witches and wizards".  She was not nearly as reconciled to the idea of returning to their world as she would like him to believe.

"May I see it?"  Remus looked up at this, suddenly alert.  A witch or wizard was always very careful about who they allowed to handle their wand.  A great deal of mischief could be done through a subtle meddling with another's wand.  It was a trick the Marauders had pulled often enough; filch someone's wand and tamper with it just slightly, then sit back and watch the show.  Sosia held out her wand and Renee hesitantly picked it up, turning it over in her hands. 

No, he was being paranoid.  She was a Muggle after all, what could she do to a wand?

"Could I do magic with this?"  She asked, after admiring the smooth feel of the wood.

"Not very likely," Remus answered her before Sosia could. "A wand is a more of a tool than a source of power in and of itself.  A person's wand acts as a focus for their innate gifts.  That is the root of the maxim 'the wand chooses the wizard' and why another's wand will never work as well as your own; the wand that you end up with is the one which works best with your particular talents and personality."

"Thank you, professor."  Renee quirked an eyebrow and handed the wand back to Sosia, who wrinkled her nose at him and winked.

"Sorry," he laughed, "habit.  After you teach for awhile, it becomes second nature to explain concepts out; saves on questions later."

"Don't believe a word of it," Sosia contradicted.  "He's always been that way, in school one of his nicknames was 'Professor Lupin'."  She was grinning at him, the familiar sparkle of 'Black Mischief' in her eyes.

"One of his nicknames?"  Renee inquired, interestedly.  She was certainly recovering from the shock at a faster rate than her brother.

"Oh yes, he had a couple of them."

"That's more than enough about me," Remus interrupted hastily, before Sosia could go any further. "We've got a busy day ahead of us and we really should get started."  With that, he gathered up the breakfast dishes and put them in the sink.  Without a second thought, he flicked his wand at them and they began to clean themselves. "Is there anything you need to do to prepare, Sosia?"

"Excuse me, I just know I'm going to regret asking this but, are those dishes actually washing themselves?"  Renee pointed towards the sink, eyes wide. "And if they are, have you ever seen The Sword in the Stone?"

"Yes they are, and no I don't believe I have.  What is The Sword in the Stone?"

"It's an animated film by Disney about young King Arthur and Merlin.  At one point the entire kitchen cleans itself, but things get out of hand.  If fact," Renee frowned in thought for a moment, "most of the time, when magic appears in a story, it gets out of hand."

"I suspect that is because the only time a Muggle, that's a non-magic person, is ever likely to witness magic is when it has gotten out of control.  It is quite rare for a trained witch or wizard to lose control of a spell."

Renee sat back in her chair, holding the cup of tea Sosia had finally convinced her to take in both hands, and stared at the kitchen sink for a long moment. "You know, when Sam came home last night and told me what had happened, I thought that either he had lost his mind or you had come up with the best story to cover a moment of indiscretion that I'd ever heard." She nodded towards Remus and Sosia blushed. "Neither of which seemed very likely, knowing the two of you.  His mind's too sharp for him to have gone suddenly bonzo on me, and you're too besotted to cheat."

"Thanks, I think." Sosia replied, wryly.

"Think nothing of it," Renee returned, grinning, as she put her teacup down and stood up. "I've got to be down at the restaurant to open up for the prep crew.  I assume you will need the day off?  He said something about a busy day before he started going all Sorcerer's Apprentice on the dishes, didn't he?"

"Ah, yes." Sosia looked uncomfortable, "Remus and I have some traveling to do, and I may not be able to come in for a few days.  I know that's going to cause problems with the scheduling, but it really can't be avoided." She spread her hands out in a gesture of helplessness.

"Don't fret about it, what's the use of being senior waitress if you can't rearrange the schedule every now and again, eh?" Renee smiled, "besides I'm sure the manager, now that she knows you aren't playing her brother false, will be very understanding." And with a wink and a wave, Renee gathered her things and was out the door.

Remus looked after her, bemused. "Is she always so..."

"Forceful?  Yes.  Renee has personality, and to spare.  Don't misunderstand; she has always been a good and a dear friend to me and she really is a wonderful person.  But she can rub people the wrong way at times; tact was never one of her strong suits.  The only time she ever employs it is on the job."

Remus shook his head, wondering if Sosia's marrying into that family was really the best idea she'd ever had.  Yes, because you're only thinking of her happiness, right?  A sarcastic little voice intruded upon his thoughts.  He really disliked that little voice, it was blunt and cynical… and all too often more accurate than he was comfortable with.

And comfort is what this is all about, isn't it?  Your comfort.  And Sam and Renee don't fit in to your comfortable little world, where you pine for what you can't have and you keep her just out of reach. And married is just a little too out of reach, isn't it?

Shut up, we never had any sort of understanding.  And I'm not that selfish.  If she wants to marry the man, I won't stand in the way.

My point exactly.  We both know how you feel about her, but you're too cowardly to either act on it or turn away from it completely.

How I felt about her, as in past tense.  I don't even know her anymore; it's been more than twelve years.

Right, and I imagined that flip-flop your heart did—and the nosedive your intellect took—as soon as you saw her again.

Yes.  Besides, she's Sirius' sister.  I don't actually have an active death wish.

Didn't stop you before.

Didn't I already tell you to shut up?

And I started listening to you when?

Remus sighed, rubbing his hand over his face and rising from the table.  "I'm going to get a bit more rest.  We've both had a long night, and I have a feeling that tonight is not going to be any shorter."  And with that he entered the sitting room again, collapsed back onto the sofa and closed his eyes, hoping that a few good hours of sleep would quiet that annoying little voice.

Not likely.