Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Nope, not me.

A/N: Keep those reviews coming, folks!

This chapter is a little fluffy, but we've had quite a lot of angst in the last few chapters, so here's to lightening the tone a little! And Remus has such a hard life… he deserves a little fluff once in a while!

And to Earendil - of course you can translate this story into Spanish! Just make sure my name stays with it. Thanks to Cerulane for her work on translating The Space Between The Stars into French - the more languages, the merrier!

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The next few days passed rather fast for Remus. Dumbledore had forbidden him to go back to the Department of Mysteries, on the proviso that it would not only stir up trouble in the Ministry - something they really didn't need - and that Aemilia needed as much help as she could get with the lawsuit.

And so, on August the 8th, Remus found himself sitting across from Aemilia in the library, looking up the obscure Stasis charm in A Compendium Of Charms That Will Really Hack Your Enemies Off.

"Anything in there, Remus?" Aemilia asked.

Remus shut the book with a sigh. "Nothing that will help," he replied. His face brightened. "But if you want to know how to make your enemies dance in a conga line for three days, I'm your man!"

Aemilia managed a weak grin. "Maybe you should teach it to Harry," she suggested. "He can use it on You-Know-Who."

"I can see it now," Remus said with a smile on his face. "Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy and Peter Pettigrew, the Conga Line of Doom."

"With Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange playing Tequila on a harpsichord," Aemilia added.

"And Avery and Nott and Rookwood wearing pineapples on their heads and casting Charta Aetherius charms every ten minutes."

Aemilia looked at him quizzically. "Charta Aetherius?"

"Creates paper umbrellas," Remus answered absently.

"Pineapples?"

"For the atmosphere."

Aemilia smiled. "You'll never stop being a Marauder, will you?"

"Not thinking so," Remus answered. "'Tis in my blood." His eyes grew suddenly mischievous. "Though I don't think I would have imagined the Lestranges playing Tequila on a harpsichord."

"Can they wear pineapples on their heads too?"

Remus thought for a moment. "No. They can have mangoes for earrings, though. And Rodolphus can have an olive on a cocktail stick for a nose ring."

"Who owns the nightclub?"

"Rosier, of course," Remus replied. "We caught him wearing pink pyjamas when we were at school, and only men who wear pink can own nightclubs."

"What's the nightclub called?"

"The Fluffy Cat," Remus answered. "All arch villains have to have a fluffy cat."

As he and Aemilia laughed insanely, Remus knew a moment of sudden seriousness. Should I be joking about stuff like this? he thought.

It was like Dumbledore answered in his mind. When we can laugh at things, Remus, they become infinitely less invincible.

He smiled. Voldemort is just another boggart.

*

"So, how is your progress?" Dumbledore asked, as they ate dinner that night.

Aemilia sighed. "We're getting there," she said, "but the real issue is a lack of precedent."

"It is a bit hard to prove that someone who is, really, legally dead, is not dead," Remus added through a mouthful of rhubarb pie.

"Not to mention that his name still hasn't been cleared," Aemilia said. "It's a very tricky business, but it is doable."

Dumbledore smiled. "Good."

Aemilia looked determined. "Well, if I can't find a precedent, I'll argue for the creation of a new one. And if I can't find one, it means my father probably can't find one either, which is nice. It's still a level playing field, no matter which way you twist it… the only problem is, the other side aren't defending the rights of a legally dead alleged mass murderer."

"But your father is defending Muggles, Aemilia," Dumbledore said, "and for once, that prejudice may work in our favour."

Remus snorted. "I never thought I'd be glad that bigotry exists."

"Neither did I, Remus," Dumbledore replied, "but it goes to show that life is full of unexpected things."

A white owl swooped in and dropped a letter in front of Aemilia before perching on the back of a chair. "Guess it's not a Ministry owl, then," Aemilia commented. "Very good aim."

"No, it's not a Ministry owl," Remus told her, reaching out to stroke the bird's snowy feathers. "It's Hedwig."

Aemilia shot him a quizzical look. "Hedwig?"

"Harry's owl," Remus answered.

"Oh!" Aemilia looked surprised. "I wonder why he's writing to me?"

Remus smiled. "Open the letter and you just might find out."

Aemilia poked her tongue out at him before slitting the letter open with her thumb. Remus leaned over and read it over her shoulder.

Dear Aemilia,

I'm writing, firstly, to say thankyou very much for your birthday present. I read it all that night after everyone left, and now I'm going back and reading it a bit more slowly. I can't tell you how much it means that you gave it to me. It's like having a little piece of my mum here with me. I've learned all sorts of things about her and my dad and his mates that I never would have known otherwise… like Sirius playing the violin. I never knew that. Oh, and can you ask Professor Lupin - that's right, I'm supposed to call him Remus now, aren't I? - if I can borrow the idea for that prank he and my dad pulled where they locked Snape inside a suit of armour and made him dance the salsa for a day? My mum sounded pretty disapproving in her diary but I think it sounds great. I'd love to try it on Malfoy. He deserves it, the little git.

The other reason I'm writing is to do with my aunt and uncle. This isn't exactly what my uncle said - I don't think you want to know what he really said - but he wants to know what time the Portkey will be on August the 13th and how long they'll have to stay at Hogwarts.

By the way, where will the court case be? The Ministry?

Thanks heaps,

Harry

"That's really sweet of him," Aemilia said, folding up the letter.

"I'm glad to see he's got a proper sense of humour," Remus commented, grinning.

Aemilia poked him in the side. "You're encouraging him in wicked ways, Remus."

"Not so very wicked," Remus answered. "Where's the harm in a salsa-dancing suit of armour?"

Aemilia rolled her eyes and turned to Dumbledore. "Harry wants to know what time the Portkey will be and how long the Dursleys will have to stay at Hogwarts, as well as where the court case will be."

"The Portkey will be at about one o'clock in the afternoon, but don't tell him that, in case the letter gets intercepted," Dumbledore replied. "I'll be sending people along to fetch them."

"Who?" Aemilia asked.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Alastor Moody and Severus Snape."

"Not trying to intimidate them, are you, Professor?" Remus asked innocently.

"Oh, of course not," Dumbledore replied, a wry smile curving his lips. "If my choices are a little… intimidating… well, it's all a matter of chance, isn't it?"

"Of course," Remus replied, grinning.

"The Dursleys will have to stay a few days at Hogwarts," Dumbledore told Aemilia. "It is a necessary precaution - not only because we really have no idea how long the court case will last, but because of the wards… I will have to reset the wards around the Dursley house before they can go back, or it will be entirely unsafe, despite the Prosapiae Charm."

"Is that the mother's blood charm?"

"Yes."

"And where will the case be held?"

"At the Ministry," Dumbledore replied, sighing. "It isn't entirely secure, but it is the only place where the entire Wizengamot are permitted to sit - and this is a case that most definitely requires them all."

Remus wasn't listening in much depth to the conversation between Dumbledore and Aemilia. "I wonder if I should teach Harry the Charta Aetherius charm," he mused aloud.

"The paper umbrella charm?" Dumbledore asked, eyes twinkling. "Why ever would you want to teach him that?"

Remus grinned. "Never know when it might come in handy!"

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If the fluff and silliness of this chapter was not your thing, fear not! Next chapter we have gratuitous angst from Severus, who is confused… very confused…