For Michelle, whom I love affectionately with all my heart. Best friends always and forever.

Chapter Sixteen: The Eve Of The Funeral

Orion sat at his desk, a professor's desk, with The Daily Prophet sitting in front of him. On the desk sat an empty bottle of Odgen's Firewhiskey and two letters. One was written in deep purple ink from one KC Allen, the author of the article about his father, thanking him for the interview, while the other one was in the emerald ink seemingly favored by both McGonagall and the Potter family. As it was, the other letter was from Special Agent Detective Harry Potter of the Ministry of Magical Law Enforcement.

He didn't really want to read either one of them. In fact, he wanted to crawl into some small crevice of the earth and die. The clock on his wall ticked and tocked, the steady rhythm of it the one thing that he could latch on to.

Knock, knock.

At first, Orion discredited the sound. Surely no one would be coming to see him.

Knock, knock.

"'Tis some visitor," he muttered, "knocking at my chamber door. Only this and nothing more."

Poe seemed to fit his mood.

The truth of the matter was that he didn't want to see anyone, didn't want to deal with anyone. For Merlin's sake, his father's funeral was tomorrow morning. Was it too much to ask for to be alone? The worst of his emotions took over, and his mother's good manners were trampled underfoot.

"Go away!"

His door opened anyway. "Now, is that anyway to talk to me, Orion Albus?"

Leaning against the doorway was the last person on earth Orion wanted to see. Sean Dillon O'Toole was his name, and Orion was convinced he was a changeling, if not something worse.

Orion let loose his breath. "Well, come in, you bloody blighter. Have a fucking seat."

Sean merely raised an eyebrow. "My, my, we are testy tonight. Aren't you going to offer me a drink?" he asked as he crossed the room and sat in a seat opposite Orion's own.

"I would, mate, but I've consumed every drop of alcohol I own."

Sean leaned forward, sniffed Orion's breath. "I don't doubt it. You think that's helping?"

"Listen, mate, the last thing I need right now is a bloody lecture."

"Suit yourself. I've never seen you this far gone into self pity, though."

Orion snorted. "Feeling sorry for myself, am I? My fucking father up and fucking died. I think that's a bloody good reason for me to feel damned sorry for myself."

"You make it sound as though he did it just to spite you," Sean commented, and pulled a fag from his coat pocket. "Your vocabulary is suffering, mate. I've known you to be much more creative than that."

"This is a fucking school."

Sean nodded. "I know that. And it's one that you will never finish."

"You're making me wish I had another bottle of bloody whiskey, O'Toole."

"Regretting your decision already, old friend?" Sean's fingers moved restlessly over the wood of the chair.

Orion shook his head. "No. No bloody regrets about a damned thing."

"Hmm."

"Would you stop pulling that bloody psychiatrist routine on me?"

Sean shrugged this time. "It's my bloody job, mate."

"So did you come here to do your job? Take care of the sick man's son? Ask him some bloody questions about how he was raised, what he's fucking feeling?"

"No, Orion. I came here because I'm your friend. And because I do care, to borrow your phrase, about what you're fucking feeling. Does that suit you?"

Wrapping his fist on the wood of his desk once, Orion rose somewhat unsteadily to his feet. "He had to up and die now of all times," he muttered.

"Tell me, Orion, when would it have been more convenient for you?"

"Merlin, you make me sound like a selfish prig."

"I make you sound like a selfish prig? Something is telling me that you're doing that all by yourself. Without any assistance from anyone." Sean grinned, and Orion couldn't help himself. He chuckled.

"You know, this will kill my mother."

"Do you think?"

Orion sighed, and crossed the room to the window that looked out over the lake. "Oh yes. My parents… I can't imagine one of them functioning without the other."

Sean smiled. "That's a common conception children have about their parents, Orion."

"I keep forgetting you've never met them," Orion mumbled, then shuffled his feet. "My father lived for my mother. He would have given up a long time ago if not for her and Sirius.

"You know, I thought that when Aunt Hermione got her bill passed, Dad would have felt better about himself. Maybe he would walk a little straighter… maybe he would realize that most of the time, the rest of us could simply forget he was a werewolf. It's a damn shame he went without knowing…"

Sean laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure that he knew how much both you and your mother loved him. If nothing else, that would comfort a man greatly. Don't you think so?"

Orion shrugged. "It's just different, it seems, for us, than for anybody else. I grew up knowing that both of my parents were slowly dying… Mum because of the cells that made her what she was, and Dad because he was unfortunate enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Somehow, I'd managed to forget. That's all."

"Do you think that's a bad thing?"

"Gee, I don't know, Doctor," Orion said sarcastically.

"Sorry. It just slips out every now and again. Primitive urges and all that," Sean teased and winked.

"Well, get a hold of yourself."

"These children need you, Orion."

Whirling around, Orion faced his friend. "What?"

"I know it's cruel, I know it's not fair, but you've got to get better now, for the children. There's something wrong going on, tonight. I can feel it. Can you feel it?"

"Of course I can feel it, man. I'm a bloody Seer, for Merlin's sake. It's just that I…"

Sean stopped him in the middle of his train of thought. "Don't you think that Dark side knew that tonight you wouldn't be fit for anything? Do you think Captain… er, Professor Weasley is much better? You both need to be on your toes tonight."

Orion nodded, feeling a wave of numbness run through him. "All right." He grabbed his cloak and his dragon hide gloves. "Are you coming with me, or are you staying here like the bloody coward I know you are?"

Sean blinked at that. It was amazing how Orion could simply shut off one emotion and replace it with another, until it would be easier to deal with the other feeling. "I'm afraid not, mate. They need me at St. Mungo's. Simply can't function without me and all that other rubbish."

"Coward," Orion accused.

Sean shrugged. "We're just on different receiving sides of the battle, Orion."

"Right. Well then, I'll see you again."

Sean nodded, his heart breaking inside of his chest. "Aye. I've no doubt of it."

**

St. Mungo's was clean, as usual, sterile, as usual, and Sirius felt as if he were slowly going mad, as usual. Next to him on the bed sat the day's edition of The Daily Prophet, a letter from Anna, and a message from Harry, written with a quick hand.

In fact, the only one who hadn't expressed condolences to him yet was none other than Commander Raina O'Reilly. The one person he had actually wanted to see after he'd heard the news.

It wasn't as though he hadn't been expecting it – he had, for years now, really. It was no secret that Remus's disease killed… slowly and painfully.

A cough came up from somewhere deep in his chest, stunning his whole body for a moment before it began to move with the direction of the air coming from his lungs. It forcefully shook him so that he nearly knocked his head against the bed frame.

If the truth were to be told, Sirius was alone and feeling miserable. His body had betrayed him, and now it seemed his heart had, too.

The door opened slowly, and the most wonderful smell in the world wafted in, dazzling Sirius's senses. He turned carefully, so as not to agitate any sore spot, and immediately his face lit up with a grin the likes of which the world had been missing for many years.

"Raina."

"Yes, it's me, and I've brought you lasagna." With a helpless shrug, she crossed the room, slowly removing her cloak and bag. "I didn't know what else to do."

Sirius swallowed, amazed, as always, at her ability to fill out a sweater. "Bringing me lasagna was a good start."

Raina laughed, and the sound of it swept through him like sunshine. Finally, here was someone who was smiling, laughing. "A good start, eh? My mother always said that there was truth to the old adage about men and their stomachs."

"Which one is that?"

"The one that goes something like, 'The best way to get to a man's heart is through his stomach'. You've heard of it, haven't you?"

"Yes, I'm sure I have. However, all I can think about is how wonderfully real that lasagna smells. Did you use real cheese?"

"Heavens, yes."

"Real beef? Like the stuff that comes from cows, not a plant?"

"Is there any other kind?"

"Did you use real pasta? The kind you make from scratch and slave over for hours?"

"I didn't go that far," Raina admitted, "but then again, neither did my mother. We're Irish, for Merlin's sake, not Italian."

Sirius shrugged. "I guess there is a line."

"Why do you ask?"

"Because…" Sirius's voice dropped to a whisper. "Come over here. I'll have to whisper it. Walls and nurses have ears."

Raina couldn't help herself, she giggled. She hadn't giggled in a very long time. It felt marvelous.

"Raina, I confess, I have very strong suspicions that someone on the hospital kitchen staff is trying to poison me. No, don't laugh, I'm quite serious."

Raina burst out in a full laugh this time. "Yes, you are serious, Sirius."

Sirius grinned. "You've got me there. I could swear the food here is plastic."

"That's because they're probably more concerned about keeping you alive than they are about making sure your digestive system is feeling happy."

"If my digestive system were more happy, I think I would be out of here by now. No, I'm convinced it's the food that's slowly killing me."

Raina stopped laughing. "Sirius, that's not funny. Take that back."

"Take what back?" Sirius drew his eyebrows together.

"The part about you dying. Take that back."

"Okay, I will. It's officially taken back."

Raina nodded. "Good. That's just the way I want it. You're not about to die on me, Sirius Black. I simply won't allow it."

"I'm sure that even the Grim Reaper is afraid of you, love."

They both stopped again. The use of that endearment would have, should have, been insignificant… but somehow it meant more than it would any other time.

Finding herself bright red to the roots of her hair, Raina stammered, "I…I'm sure he is too."

"Raina, I've a favor to ask of you."

Suddenly suspicious, Raina drew her eyebrows together. "What is it?"

"I've got to get out of this blasted hospital room. I've got to go to Remus's funeral."

"Oh, Sirius…" Raina's voice trailed off. "That wouldn't be good for your health."

"Damn my physical health, Raina. I need to go. For my mental health. Will you sign me out?"

Somehow, Raina felt hoodwinked, blindsided. "I suppose I will. If…"

"If what?"

"If you finish telling me your story."

Sirius leaned back, closed his eyes again. "Where was I?"

"James and Lily were going to get married."

"Ah, yes, that's right. James and Lily… Merlin. What a pair those two made. Have you ever seen my godson around his wife? You know that expression he gets on his face?"

"The goofy one where you think you could knock him over with a feather?"

"That's the one. That's just like the expression James would wear all the time. He never could believe how he got so lucky, and to be honest, neither could any of the rest of us. Pretty soon, James had it all. A beautiful wife, a fantastic job researching Transfiguration spells, specifically Animagus related, at the Ministry, and then, later on, a handsome son the very image of himself.

"He was still a Gryffindor, still brilliant, still everything that Voldemort despised. It didn't take us long to work out that the Potters were going to be the target of an attack. Most of the Order already had been. By process of elimination, they were next. At first, James and Lily were just going to let him come to him… they were going to write a spell to defeat the Dark Lord.

"They did. It just didn't work out quite like anyone expected.

"Anyway, in the meantime, I convinced them to underground. If Voldemort didn't know where they were, there was no way he could get to them. My logic makes perfect sense, doesn't it?"

"I can't see any flaws in to speak of."

"What really gets me… really gets me, is that we knew there was a traitor. We just knew. I thought it was Remus, for Merlin's sake."

"You didn't!"

"I did. I was, and still am, something of a git.

"I was to be the Potters' Secret Keeper. It was all worked out. Lily and James and Dumbledore had all agreed… it was all nice and fine. Then I got a brilliant idea.

"You see, I was simply too obvious. Anyone that knew James and Lily knew that they would pick me. I thought we would throw the Dark Side for a loop and use the one person no one in their right mind would entrust with their safety."

"Peter Pettigrew."

"Yes."

"Merlin, you must have felt horrible!"

"Oh, I did. We found out the Potters had been betrayed, that someone had given their location away to Voldemort. I knew immediately who it was. So I chased him down with the intent of killing him."

"But you ended up killing all those Muggles…"

"No." Sirius's voice was sharp. "I would never kill an innocent. Peter did that, then sliced off his finger. Everyone would blame it on me, you see. Poor Peter simply didn't have the talent to do things of that nature. I'm sad to say that I did."

"So there ended up being a warrant for your arrest…"

"And Peter went free. You know the rest of the story, I imagine."

"Yes, yes I do." Raina's voice became thoughtful, soft. "I'll take you to Remus's funeral, Sirius. I'll be here in the morning in time to pick you up. You're right. You do need this."

"Thank you, Raina."

She rose, but paused at the doorway. "Sirius?"

"Yes, Raina?"

"If Remus and Harry both forgave you, don't you think it's time you forgave yourself? I… I just think that that's what James and Lily would want."

The door shut softly behind her, and Sirius was once again alone.

**

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