Warnings for severe angst. You'd think we'd have gotten enough of it in OotP, but apparently not.

Chapter Five

Remus came back from his 'walk' quiet and distracted. Harry was still trying to keep Sirius occupied with stories from his school year, most of which Sirius hadn't had a chance to hear. Remus glanced out the window, where it had started to rain.

"Okay, spill," Sirius ordered him.

"Spill what?" Remus asked absently, sitting cross-legged on his bed.

"What is wrong with you?" Sirius demanded.

"I'm just thinking about something," Remus said, trying to not sound irritated. "I'll tell you once I've worked it over in my head a little more. For now, it's not important."

"Fine," Sirius snarled. "Be that way."

Harry cleared his throat. "I'm . . . gonna go find Hedwig and visit for a while," he said hastily, and backed out of the room. Remus continued to stare vacantly outside.

Sirius wobbled out of bed and found that he managed it. He'd had enough of everyone putting him off and telling him that he didn't need to know things. He made it over to Remus' bed and sat down next to him with a thud. "Obviously it is important," he snapped.

Remus pushed his hair out of his face with both hands. "I didn't want to say it in front of Harry, that's all . . . I just think that I may have made a big mistake."

Sirius just looked at him expectantly.

"Haven't you been feeling it?" Remus asked quietly. "The pull? Back to the veil?"

Sirius opened his mouth, then frowned. "I don't know," he said.

"But you've been having the dreams," Remus said.

"They're strange," Sirius said. "Some of them are about James and Lily, but some of them are about Grimmauld Place and . . . I don't want to go back there. Except . . . I feel like I need to."

"Grimmauld Place is the veil for you, Sirius," Remus said. "That's the form it took on for you. You're feeling the pull just like I am."

"No," Sirius said. "Oh, no. Not you."

"Once someone has been beyond the veil," Remus continued softly, as if Sirius had not even spoken, "they can never truly come back from it."

"NOT YOU," Sirius said.

"You can't change this, Sirius," Remus said sadly.

"I don't remember dying!" Sirius half-yelled. "This never happened!"

Remus just gave him a tired look.

"Don't give me that look!" Sirius shouted. "I don't remember!"

"I know you don't remember," Remus said. "But it still happened. You still died. I still took that potion and went beyond the veil to bring you back. I should have left you. You would have been happier. Instead, I cursed us both to half-lives."

"I wasn't happy!" Sirius protested. "I was -- at -- that place! Going more crazy by the minute!"

"James and Lily would have gotten through to you in time," Remus said.

"They don't need to," Sirius said. "I'm here with you."

"Yes," Remus murmured. "But neither of us are truly here. Nor will we ever be."

"For once in my life, I will be wherever I damn well please," Sirius snarled.

"I shouldn't have done this," Remus said heavily. "I was playing with things I didn't understand. I didn't even look into the aftereffects of the potion. I just launched right into things in true Marauder style, and now I may have doomed both of us . . . because I loved you too much to let you go like I should have."

"Did you make me come back?" Sirius asked, since he didn't remember.

"No, but you wouldn't have come if I hadn't been there."

"Why does everyone think that they get to make all my decisions for me?" Sirius snapped. "Go here, do this, don't leave this place, do that -- I've had enough! I've just had enough. I'm crazy, but not stupid."

"It's only a matter of time before we start subconsciously trying to get back to the veil," Remus said. "Sleepwalking, things like that. There's no way to change it."

"So what?" Sirius asked. "We just . . . get up? Crawl to the window and throw ourselves to our death?"

Remus looked at him, and slowly nodded. "And we might not be able to stop ourselves, either."

"That's cheery," Sirius remarked. "No. I refuse. I refuse to die."

"Can't you feel it calling to you?" Remus asked. "It should be stronger for you than for me. You were there much longer than I was."

"Yeah, it sounds like my mother, telling me to do what I'm told," Sirius said. "Notice I'm not eager."

Remus couldn't help but smile at that. "I'm not suggesting we just off ourselves here and now," he said. "I just think I made a mistake. I should have let things be. This was selfish."

"So Harry didn't have anything to do with this?" Sirius asked skeptically.

"Well, he helped, he insisted as well, I suppose, but . . ."

"But you always have to feel guilty about something," Sirius said with a sigh.

Remus smiled slightly. "How well you know me, Padfoot."

Sirius smiled back. "You know what else I know?"

"What else do you know?"

"That everything has a price." Sirius reached out and cupped Remus' chin in his hands. "And we're paying it now. But maybe it's worth it, anyway. I think it might be worth it."

"If I had wanted to be with you again, I could have been," Remus said. "I didn't have to sentence us both to this."

"Yes, but you would have left behind people that need us," Sirius told him.

Remus sighed, resting his head against Sirius' shoulder. "I'm tired of being needed for a while."

"It's better than being ignored and left alone," Sirius replied. "Trust me on that one."

"At least that way, you don't have anyone to disappoint," Remus murmured.

"And who have you disappointed?" Sirius asked, frowning at him.

"I don't know," Remus said wearily. "Everyone, feels like."

"Well, I'm not disappointed," Sirius said. "I don't think Harry is either. And after that, everyone else can suck an egg. I certainly disappointed enough people."

"You never disappointed me," Remus said quietly.

"So I'm forgiven over that stunt with Snivellus?" Sirius asked.

Remus snorted. "You were forgiven a long time ago, even though you are a gigantic idiot. Doubly so for even having to ask me."

"I do think that you're the only person I've never disappointed," Sirius said.

"I doubt Harry would agree with you," Remus replied.

"Maybe not," Sirius said. "But the entire Order seems to think I'm entirely useless. Then again, they don't seem intent on sharing anything with Harry, either, which seems rather unfair, since it's him that everyone wants to kill."

"See? They're idiots, too," Remus said. "And as to whether or not you're useless, we'll just have to show them that you're not."

"We'll have to do something," Sirius said. "I can't take this anymore."

Remus just hugged him. "We will. I promised you that I would help you get better, and that's a promise I intend to keep."

****

Harry wandered the hallways, feeling tired and depressed. He didn't want to think too much about what Remus was moping about, or how Sirius was getting upset. He just didn't want to think about how different Sirius was. Every time Remus looked at him, Harry knew that the werewolf thought they had made a mistake bringing Sirius back.

As far as Harry was concerned, he thought that Remus might be right, but he was so glad to have Sirius back that it was hard to not be happy about it. His relief was warring with his caution, and his depression over how skittish and volatile Sirius was couldn't be suppressed.

"Mr. Potter," a sharply curious voice said, jerking him out of his reverie, "what are you doing here?"

Harry had, in fact, been staring blankly at a painting. The woman in it was preening, apparently glad for the attention, unaware that Harry hadn't really been seeing her at all. He started at the voice, then looked over and saw it was McGonagall, perhaps the only person who wouldn't buy whatever excuse he came up with, no matter how good. He managed lamely, "Looking at this portrait."

"I'm sure it appreciates the attention," McGonagall said dryly. The woman in the painting nodded enthusiastically. "But that doesn't tell me why you are here. I'm fairly sure that you are on summer break."

"Well, yes, I am . . . just couldn't take my relatives for a few days, that's all, so Professor Dumbledore is letting me stay . . ." Harry's voice trailed off as he became aware of exactly how lame he sounded.

"That's funny," McGonagall said tartly. "He had informed me that you would be visiting Mr. Lupin."

"Well, yes," Harry said, with no better reply.

"So why are you wandering the halls?" she asked, in her I'm-your-teacher-and-you'd-better-have-a-good-answer voice.

"Professor Lupin is here . . ." Harry said, thinking fast, "but he's busy right now, and I wanted to walk for a while . . . keep myself distracted." He did his best to look moody and depressed, which he thought was working fairly well, given that it wasn't really an act at all.

McGonagall's face softened slightly, and when she spoke again, her tone was sympathetic. "I would think that would be easier in the company of others."

Harry nodded slightly. "Professor Lupin has helped a lot, but . . ." He pushed his rumpled hair out of his face, no longer acting in the slightest. The sorrow he kept trying to hold back was seeping back in through his skin just by his thinking about it. "Sometimes I like to just . . . not think about it . . . and around him, I can't."

"I imagine so," McGonagall said, then added quietly, "This must be very difficult for both of you." She watched Harry as he nodded slightly, still staring up at the painting, which was trying to offer him a handkerchief. "What brought Mr. Lupin here?" she asked, hoping to change the subject.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know . . . he wanted to talk to Professor Dumbledore about something and he wouldn't tell me what." He continued, sounding a bit irritable. "Nobody tells me anything."

"Unfortunately, Mr. Potter, I have very little control over how you are treated outside of term," McGonagall pointed out.

"I know." Harry sighed. "I didn't mean to snap, I've just . . ."

McGonagall saw the shifting look on his face and slowly started to walk, taking the initiative to bring them somewhere that the walls didn't have ears. She was very interested to hear what Harry might have to say if he didn't think it would get anywhere else. "You've just what?" she asked, her tone encouraging.

Harry trailed along after her despondently. "I just . . . I never thought about how hard this would be. I've never . . . I've never lost anyone so close to me before except my parents . . . and as much as I love their memory, I didn't know them . . . not the way I knew Sirius." As much as Harry would have liked to pretend, he could tell how badly Sirius was psychologically scarred, and he didn't really think he would ever be okay again.

"Maybe you shouldn't think of this in terms of such loss," McGonagall advised. "It might help if you think about what you gave to each other, rather than what is now missing. I think he would prefer that you remember that."

"What did I ever give to him?" Harry asked bitterly. "All I did was get him killed."

McGonagall gave him a look. "You gave him a reason to keep trying. You made him happy and gave him someone to love. And you returned that. That was something that was always in short supply for Sirius."

Harry noted, interested, that McGonagall called him Mr. Potter, and called Remus Mr. Lupin, yet used Sirius' first name. He scuffed at the floor a little. "Did you . . . did you know him very well?"

"I'd like to think so," McGonagall said. Although she had never spoken about this in detail with anyone before, it all seemed rather less private, given the circumstances. "I think out of all the adults in his life, I knew him the best, but he was always reluctant to let us become close to him."

"I guess this is difficult for everyone," Harry said softly, thinking of the raw pain that Remus had tried so hard to hide from him.

"It is very hard," McGonagall agreed. "But he was always so determined to move forward in life, so I'm trying to respect that and not cling to what can't be changed."

Harry swallowed hard, wondering exactly how many fuses McGonagall would blow if she knew about what he and Remus had done. "Yeah . . ."

"This isn't helping you get away from the topic like you proffessed to wanting," McGonagall pointed out, her tone almost severe. "One might almost think you wanted to talk about it."

"It wouldn't have worked anyway," Harry said with a shrug. "And I feel almost selfish talking about it with Remus . . . at least I still have Ron and Hermione and my other friends . . . he doesn't have anybody left now."

"Mr. Lupin was always a bit mistaken in thinking that no one really cared for him," McGonagall said. "True, his closest friends are gone, but he is far from alone if he would just look at the people around him." In her opinion, everyone was being emotionally short-sighted. At least with Remus it was nothing new.

"I think he has even more trouble than Sirius letting people get close," Harry admitted.

"Sirius had problems in a different way, but I would advise you to stick close to Mr Lupin," McGonagall told him. "I think you are good for each other."

Harry nodded a little. "I like him a lot . . . he's been really nice to me."

"I'm not surprised," McGonagall said. She had guided them into a small alcove with a window that overlooked the courtyard. The nearest painting was nearly one hundred feet down the hallway, so she stopped, resting her elbows against the sill and looking outside, waiting to see if Harry would say anything interesting. "He used to spoil you rotten when you were a baby."

"I bet Sirius did too," Harry said, with a wistful smile.

McGonagall smiled back, although even that, like all her facial expressions, was a bit guarded. "He was a bit heavier on the 'rotten' part of it, but yes."

Harry still smiled, although his eyes were now stinging, thinking of how it must have been with his parents and Remus and Sirius all together, alive and young and happy. He choked back tears with effort. "Ah, well. I still came out all right, I suppose. I think my aunt and uncle forcibly undid any spoiling that anyone else may have accomplished."

"No, they didn't," McGonagall said firmly. "I think it stuck with you rather well; otherwise you would have grown up to be what the Durselys wanted you to be."

"Oh." Harry wondered exactly what that was, but didn't have the nerve to ask.

McGonagall decided to change the subject, and wondered if she could steer them back to Remus' mysterious reason for being in the castle. "Shall we find Mr. Lupin before he lets himself think too much?"

"Oh . . . no, I'm sure he'll find me when he's ready to go," Harry said. He really didn't want to interrupt Sirius and Remus arguing.

McGonagall again noted the shifting look in his eyes. "I know that look, Mr. Potter. That look never means anything good."

Harry was startled, mostly because he didn't realize that he'd actually had a look of any sort. "Huh? What look?"

"The look that says that you know you should feel guilty, but are instead content to just hope that I don't find you out."

"I have a look like that?" Harry asked, actually interested in this, so he could abolish it from his collection of facial expressions as soon as possible.

"Of course," McGonagall said firmly. "Every student in my house does."

"Oh, I see," Harry said, shutting up and glancing around nervously.

"I'm afraid there are no witnesses to save you, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, amused. "What sort of trouble are you and Mr. Lupin getting yourselves into?"

"We're not in any trouble at all," Harry said, a bit too quickly.

McGonagall smiled, having now successfully cornered Harry. "Then you won't mind telling me what you and he are doing here."

"I told you, it's his business," Harry insisted.

"Somehow, I don't think you're innocent," McGonagall countered dryly.

"Professor Dumbledore said we shouldn't tell anyone," Harry said in desperation.

"This must be good then," McGonagall said, taking a look at Harry's near-panicked expression. "You are aware that he keep no secrets from me concerning what happens within these walls, are you not?"

"Technically, it didn't happen within these walls," Harry said, ignoring the fact that it was now technically happening within the walls quite actively.

"Mr. Potter, now you are dissembling." McGonagall had to admit to a certain amount of curiosity, figuring that whatever Harry and Remus had done, it had to be one hell of a doozy.

Harry decided to try a new tactic. "That's because I'm trying to avoid quite possibly the worst lecture of my life," he said, and grinned charmingly at her.

"I may have to implement a new policy where my lectures grow in severity in direct proportion to how long it takes me to get to the bottom of an issue," McGonagall told him, and was quite amused at the look on his face.

"Oh," he finally said, and took a deep breath. "Well, ah . . . Remus-and-I-sort-of- resurrected-Sirius," he said, spitting this out very quickly and in a very low voice.

McGonagall blinked. "I suspect I heard you wrong there. Would you kindly repeat yourself?"

"I rather suspect you didn't hear me wrong, actually," Harry said nervously.

"I am quite sure that what you have just suggested is impossible," McGonagall stated firmly.

"In that case, you definitely heard me correctly."

"You and Mr. Lupin never cease to amaze me," McGonagall said, looking quite amazed indeed. "You've struck me nearly speechless."

"I noticed that," Harry said, resisting the urge to back away from her. "It actually, er, wasn't that hard . . . all Remus had to do was die momentarily, go beyond the veil, and snatch him out again." He delivered this news as nonchalantly as he could, wondering vaguely if McGonagall would actually blow an artery.

"Of all the hare-brained. . ." McGonagall looked exasperated, but inwardly she was somehow unsurprised that Remus had found a way to beat death to stay with Sirius. "I would like to speak to Mr. Lupin. Where is he?"

Harry decided that arguing with her would be a bad idea. She had a distinctly annoyed look in her eyes. "Uhm . . . he's in the Room of Requirement, but I left when he and Sirius started arguing, so . . . I don't know if it's safe to go back yet."

"We'll see," McGonagall said direly. "They never were quiet when they argued."

Harry scuffed at the floor. "Yeah, but . . . Sirius has been . . . really different." He glanced up at McGonagall, who gave him a look that clearly prompted him to continue. "He's just not all there . . . sometimes he thinks I'm James, and he loses track of what's going on really easily. He's skittish and he's having trouble eating and he gets upset really easily . . . Remus is already thinking that we made a huge mistake . . . I can just tell," he finished gloomily.

"Do you think you did?" McGonagall asked, wisely withholding her own judgment until she heard Harry's opinion.

Harry sighed. "I don't know . . . he's not really okay, but . . . maybe he wasn't okay being dead, either, and . . . and I just don't know. I just . . . I missed him, that's all."

"Well, regardless of whether it was or was not the right thing to do, I suggest you just take things from here," McGonagall advised. "If it really worries you, perhaps you should ask him what he thinks. I think that it's high time we started taking his needs into consideration, don't you?" She had been very unhappy about Sirius being stuck in Grimmauld Place, but no matter how many times she had tried to convince Dumbledore to let him go somewhere else, she had received neither acceptance or explanations.

"Well, yes, of course," Harry said, a little surprised at her vehemence. "I figured that's what he and Remus were going to talk about . . . but Remus seemed awfully moody and upset about something."

That didn't surprise McGonagall in the slightest. "Then perhaps we shouldn't leave them alone too long."

"All right." Harry sighed and headed back towards the room. "I think that Sirius will be glad to see you . . . if he's coherent, anyway."

"I shall be quite glad to see him as well," McGonagall replied.

****

Harry poked his head inside the room and glanced around. Remus was sitting on the edge of Sirius' bed, hugging him. It made Harry blush slightly, but he plowed bravely ahead, mostly because he thought McGonagall was about to tread on his heels. "Uh . . . Sirius? Remus?" he asked hesitantly.

They both looked up. "What is it, Harry?" Remus asked, letting go of Sirius but not moving away.

Sirius did a slight double-take, realizing that he was in fact looking at Harry, not James. Then he did another double-take when he saw that McGonagall was right behind him. He blinked at her, wondering exactly how much trouble they were in.

"Oh, uh . . . hi, Professor McGonagall," Remus said, giving her an uncertain smile. "I see you've been talking to Harry."

"Well, I was curious as to what he was doing wandering around the castle when he was supposed to be in your care," McGonagall said dryly. "It was an interesting tale that he had. Hello, Sirius."

Sirius fought the urge to whimper. "Can you still expel us?" he asked nervously.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if he had lost track of time or if he was actually trying to make a joke. "You? No." She glanced at Harry, who inched away, towards the windows. "He had still better be on his best behavior."

"He always is, right Harry?" Remus asked.

"Right, right," Harry said, nodding vigorously.

McGonagall looked highly dubious.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" Sirius asked her.

McGonagall actually came close to sputtering. After a few seconds, he said, "Sirius Black, you defy words."

"Is that bad?" Sirius asked, in the tone of a small boy stuck with his irate mother.

"How could I be angry with you?" McGonagall asked, ignoring the second question as absurd.

"You used to manage it all the time," Sirius said.

"You were, and are, the most promising Transfiguration student I've ever had," McGonagall stated, then added succinctly, "You drove me insane."

"Secretly, you were always proud of the things I had done," Sirius said with a slight smile. "I knew it."

"Well, of course." McGonagall gave him an imperious look. "But that's not an excuse for your flagrant rule-breaking."

Harry laughed. It sounded like he might actually start to cry any second.

Sirius and Remus both looked over at him. "Are you all right, Harry?" Remus asked. Personally, he had been enjoying watching McGonagall badger Sirius. He had always enjoyed that. Sirius could use mothering.

"I'm fine," Harry said, rubbing his eyes. "Sorry."

McGonagall gave Sirius and Remus a significant look, implying that they had best take care of Harry, then cleared her throat. "I'll come back and visit later. And I'll bring something to keep you busy," she added, pointing at Sirius. Sirius gave her an alarmed look, but she was already halfway out the door.

Harry decided to speak up quickly, before someone could ask him what was wrong. "You were her best student at Transfiguration?" he asked, plopping into one of the chairs that the room had supplied.

Sirius nodded. "She kept thinking that if she gave me extra lessons, I would have less time to get in trouble."

"We see how well that worked," Remus remarked, amused.

"I just got into better trouble," Sirius proclaimed proudly.

Remus cleared his throat. "Really, though, you have to be an expert at Transfiguration before you can be an Animagus. That's one of the reasons that there are so few of them. Sirius not only managed to do it on his own, he managed to teach James and Peter how to do it as well."

"I wish I hadn't the last one," Sirius said gloomily.

"Well, it's not like it matters now," Remus said. He gave Sirius a look, raising an eyebrow indicating that he was the one responsible for finding out what Harry was upset about.

"So now that you've tried unsuccessfully to distract us, what is wrong?" Sirius asked.

"Nothing, really," Harry said, rather unsettled at Sirius' directness. "It was silly, never mind."

"If it makes you look that upset, it wasn't silly," Sirius replied.

"Yes, it was," Harry said firmly, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

Sirius gave him a look. "Do you realize that at the moment, my sole purpose in life is to build myself a family and take care of you?" At Harry's taken aback look, he continued. "So stop bullshitting."

"That's your purpose in life?" Harry asked, avoiding.

"Yes, and you're making me really work for it," Sirius said.

"I don't know, okay?" Harry said, frustrated. "I just . . . I thought about you and flagrant rule-breaking and everything you two must have done with my dad and everything, and I . . . I just got upset," he finished lamely.

Sirius blinked at him. He was having trouble following Harry's logic, and so he didn't know what to say.

"You miss him, don't you," Remus said softly, seeing that Sirius was lost.

Harry nodded, scuffing the floor with one foot. "It's just . . . everything went so horribly wrong . . . and it's all because of me. I'm the one that Voldemort wanted to kill. All this happened just because I exist."

"C'mere," Sirius said. Harry blinked at him, then got up and walked over, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to Sirius. His godfather pulled him into a hug. "It is not your fault," Sirius said firmly, "that there is a psychotic, torturing murderer out there. You're not to blame for this."

"I didn't say I was to blame," Harry said, wilting into the hug. "I said it was because I exist. There's a difference. And anyway, everyone I love gets hurt. My parents got killed . . . and then you . . . and that was all my fault."

Sirius didn't know what to say about his own death, so he chose to avoid commenting on the matter. "Your parents . . . nobody forced them to save you. That was their own choice. They're not sorry they did it. You were the best thing that ever happened to them."

"See? It's silly." Harry managed a wan smile. "Besides, I knew that nobody really understands."

"If it was silly, I'd just ignore it," Sirius said.

"I didn't want any of this!" Harry burst out. "Why did all this have to happen to me?"

Sirius vetoed his first reply, stating that life was a horrible bitch. He tried to come up with something else, a little more appropriate to the situation. "It's horribly unfair," he agreed. "But the world doesn't stay the same. The few people that can really make changes need a reason to, so life forces them to."

"I'm tired of being forced!" Harry said, half-yelling. He pushed Sirius away, standing up. "I'm tired of all of this! I don't care about changing the world! I just . . . I just want all this to stop, that's all! I'm tired of being famous and I'm tired of people I care about being hurt or killed and I'm even tired of being looked up to! I'm tired of being me!"

"No, you're not," Sirius said. "You're just tired of everyone thinking that you should be something that you're not, or thinking that they know you."

"But don't you see?" Harry asked, frustrated. "I do have to be something that I'm not. If I'm going to beat Voldemort, I'm going to have to be the magical boy wonder. I'm going to have to be The Boy Who Lived, and I don't want that."

"The only thing I've got for you is that you're absolutely right," Sirius said. "It's horribly unfair and you have every right to be angry. I'd think that you'd lost some marbles if you weren't."

Harry wilted back into his chair. "But if I can't do this . . . then Voldemort will kill me. He'll take over everything if I can't do this. I don't want that much responsibility. That's what it made me think of. When you broke rules, it was to . . . to plant Dungbombs in Filch's office or put ink in the Slytherin showers. Why did I break rules? To save the Sorcerer's Stone. To save Ginny. To save you. Hermione said I had a thing about saving people, and maybe she's right, but I'm tired of having to always be the one who does something. This time you got killed because I was so used to being the only one who could do it that I didn't stop to think. I just went."

"You didn't go to save Sirius because you weren't thinking," Remus interrupted. "You went because he's your godfather and you love him. There's no shame in that, Harry. Don't believe anyone who tells you differently."

"And you didn't go save Ginny because you wanted to prove that you were the magical boy wonder," Sirius added. "You went because you like her, and she's your best friend's little sister."

"And because there was no one else," Harry retorted, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'm sick of there being no one else."

"We know," Sirius said quietly. "All we can offer is to help you and be there for you. We can't change this. God knows that I would if I could."

Harry drooped further. "I think I'm done yelling," he said with a slight sigh. "Thank you for letting me."

"Any time you want," Sirius said. "I think you might feel better if you had hysterics more often. You're far too self-contained for your age."

"I wonder why," Harry muttered.

"Oh, believe me, the first chance I get, you're moving out of the Dursleys and moving in with me," Sirius stated. "Even if I have to knock some heads together to get it."

"You don't have a house, Sirius," Harry said, his lips twitching.

Sirius glanced over at Remus. "Do we still have the cottage? We still have the cottage, don't we?"

Remus hesitated.

"What happened to it?" Sirius asked, startled.

Remus mumbled something unintelligible.

"You used to tell me that I mumbled when we were young," Sirius remarked, sounding amused. "Spit it out."

"I sold it," Remus said quickly.

Sirius frowned. "Why?"

"Why?" Remus laughed bitterly. "Because I was flat broke and quite frankly hated living there, since all it did was remind me of you."

"Good answer," Sirius said.

"I did that about a year after you . . . left," Remus said. "You know me, I never really had much money, so . . ."

"I wonder if my transfiguration skills are up to building us a house?" Sirius asked thoughtfully. Remus nearly choked. "What? You don't think I could do it?"

"I want to see what you're going to transfigure," Remus said.

Sirius thought about this. "Well, given the law of mass, I'd probably do best with wood or stone . . . it's got to be cheaper in the raw than to have a house built . . ."

"Pretend I didn't ask," Remus said quickly.

"Trust you to ask a question you don't want the answer to," Sirius teased. He looked back at Harry. "Well, we don't have a place to live, but give me a couple of months and we will."

"Okay," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

****