Chapter Six: Wolf, Dog And Boy

In the end the small lake was indeed still within the protective wards which Albus Dumbledore had raised around Remus' cottage, and so that was where Sirius and Harry spent the rest of the afternoon swimming and lying in the sun.

When Sirius shrugged off his shirt before he jumped into the lake, Harry was relieved to see that his godfather had indeed gained some weight since his escape from prison. Harry had already guessed as much, but under the wide muggle shirts he had been wearing Harry could not have been sure.

Sirius was still far too thin for his size and built, the ribs still standing out on his body though not as prominently anymore as they had done before, and he still needed to get back most of the muscles Harry supposed he had had in his youth, but he didn't look like a walking skeleton anymore, and that at least was something.

Harry had only had the experience of one dinner cooked by Remus, but if his former teacher's cooking abilities proved to be as good as the stew last evening had promised, then Sirius would definitely have the possibility to gain some more pounds during their stay here. And maybe Harry himself would not return underweighted to Hogwarts this year, either.

When Sirius and Harry returned into the house in the early evening, Remus was already home again and – no surprise there – standing in the kitchen, preparing dinner. He looked up from his ingredients when Harry and Sirius came into the kitchen, and taking in their dishevelled hair, rumpled, wet and grass-stained shirts and trousers, it didn't take a genius to guess what they had been up to.

"Hello, you two. How's the lake?"

Sirius shuddered involuntarily as he remembered just how cold exactly the lake water had been, something that had not been guessable from merely looking at it.

"Icy, but good for a swim. You should come with us the next time."
Remus shook his head.

"Not during the next couple of days. Maybe after the full moon."

"Why?"

Harry hadn't even realized that he had asked that question aloud until he heard his own voice speak it and found both adults turning to look at him. Immediately, a blush crept across his features and Harry flinched away, wishing that he had kept his mouth shut. It was already bad enough that he had all but accused Remus of not wanting him here in front of Sirius this afternoon, just because he had not thought that his former teacher could be talking about somebody else, and now he was asking superfluous questions about a topic Remus surely didn't even want to think about.

But the werewolf didn't look angry, – and neither did Sirius – instead Remus scratched his head and cocked it slightly to the side, a posture he took when he was really contemplating how to best answer a difficult question as Harry had learned during the year when Remus had taught Defence against the Dark Arts. Come to think about it, it was also a very canine gesture. Sirius used to cock his head in nearly the same way as Harry had realized this afternoon, and he had already seen this done by Padfoot as well.

Remus' voice pulled Harry out of his musings.

"I don't know if I can explain it well, but I'll do my best. You see Harry, the days prior to the full moon, nearly the entire week before the moon comes out, the wolf starts to pull stronger."

Harry frowned.

"It's there before the moon?"
"The wolf? Moony is there all the time, Harry. Only that he's quite subdued for most of the month, but he's there. I can feel him when I get angry or stressed, then my patience wears thin quickly and I have to keep myself in tight check as to not to lose my temper."

Remus laughed when he saw the look of complete disbelief in Harry's eyes. He knew very well that most of the people who met him and didn't know his secret would never guess that he was sometimes struggling hard to control himself. The calm, quiet and deliberate Remus Lupin most people knew was no façade, he was real, but he was the result of years and decades of practice in self-restraint. If Sirius still remembered some of the episodes from their time at school, he could testify that Remus had not always been able to control himself that flawlessly.

"I know it sounds unbelievable, at least from how you have gotten to know me. As a werewolf it's quite advisable to learn and keep one's temper in check, for some strange reason the authorities don't feel too comfortable around choleric lycanthropes.

But what I wanted to say is that though I appear to be calm and controlled for most of the time, Moony is getting stronger and stronger during the days before the moon. It's harder to control myself during that time, the struggle for dominance in my mind is more straining. During the years I have learned that it's easier for me to keep myself if I refrain from straining physical activities during that time. Because if I tire myself out, I don't have the energy left to subdue the wolf.

Once the full moon is over and I have recovered, it is no effort to control the wolf anymore, at least not until new moon."

Remus shrugged.

"Moony is always quite content after he's been allowed to physically take over."

Harry nodded, a dumbstruck expression on his face. He had not wasted that many thoughts on Remus' lycanthropy and the possible symptoms that might come along with it, but somehow he had thought that the wolf surfaced during that one night a month and didn't really bother Remus during the remaining twenty-seven days. Only now that Remus had said it did Harry realize that his former teacher was obviously in a constant struggle for the control of his mind. How he was able to keep his reserved but ever friendly demeanour, Harry could only guess.

As if he had guessed Harry's thoughts, Remus smiled and answered the unspoken question.

"I think I would be quite a different person had I grown up without the wolf. Moony has become a huge part of myself, of who and what I am. The Remus Lupin you know doesn't exist without Moony, Harry."

Harry nodded again.

"Yes. I mean, it makes sense, only that I never looked at it from that point of view."

Remus laughed out loud.

"No, I wouldn't have expected you to. After all, the last time you were forced to worry about Moony, it was because you were in the danger of being shred to pieces by him."

His expression sobered immediately, underlining the undertone that what had happened in the night of the Shrieking Shack confrontation was not one of Remus' more delightful memories. His next words only confirmed that thought.

"However, I'll do anything I can that something like that won't happen again, ever. And please Harry, if you don't feel comfortable with the idea of having a werewolf in the basement next week, then say it. I can always visit my father or go to Hogwarts for the transformations."

Harry just shook his head.

"You have taken that potion, haven't you?"

Remus grimaced as if Harry was not evoking his most pleasant memories, then nodded.

"Yes, I have. And I will for the remaining five days until full moon."

Harry shrugged.

"You have taken your potion, Sirius is in the house to have an eye on you should something go wrong, and in case something happens which none of us foresaw, I can always take my broom and fly out of the window, or use the portkey to get out of the house. I don't really see why you should spend the night somewhere else, only because of me.

If you're not uncomfortable with having me in the house while you transform, then I won't stand in the way."

Remus boiled the water on the stove with a flick of his wand and then turned towards Harry again.

"It's not that I am uncomfortable, Harry. I just don't want anything to happen while I'm transformed."

Harry shook his head.

"We just don't let anything happen, Remus."

Both grinned at each other until Sirius, who had deliberately remained silent during their conversation, asked the question that had been weighing on his mind ever since he had returned home.

"What's for dinner, Remus?"

Remus laughed out loud.

"I should have known, Padfoot. You've always been thinking with your stomach. I've spent a little longer at Hogwarts than I had wanted, but the seduction of having the library all for myself was just too big. Oh, by the way Harry, I have two books which might be immensely helpful for your Transfiguration homework this year. They're a bit more advanced than fourth year, but from what I remember, so are Minerva's essays. They're in my study, in case you need them."
Remus paused and scratched his head, tracing the conversation back to the point where he had left off the topic. Getting lost in his thoughts was a regular occurrence with Remus once his thoughts turned towards books.

"Oh, yes. Food. Well, as I said, I came home a bit later than it was planned, and so I've settled on some quick pasta, if that's alright with you."
Seeing both black-haired heads nod, Remus turned back towards the stove.

"Alright, I would not have expected anything different. Dinner should be ready in about ten, maybe fifteen minutes. Why don't you two go upstairs and", he gestured at their dishevelled appearances, "well, clean yourselves up a bit."

Harry and Sirius both willingly complied, and ten minutes later Harry was setting the kitchen table while Remus finished the food.

The ate in companionable silence, and halfway through dinner Harry felt his eyes dropping close. The day had not been all too exhausting, but the walks in the afternoon and the swimming in the lake for sure had tired him out.

Remus and Sirius watched his eyes drop close, head sinking down towards his chest only to snap up again in an attempt to stay awake with bemused expressions on their faces.

After this had repeated itself maybe five or six times, Sirius showed mercy with Harry. He got up from his chair and bent down towards his godson.

"Harry? Come on kid, time for bed."

He put his arm around Harry's shoulder and shook him slightly, but the only reaction this provoked was that Harry's head sank against Sirius' shoulder.

"Not tired."

Sirius smiled.

"That litany again? Come on, let's get you upstairs."

Harry only nodded into Sirius' shoulder, and didn't even voice any protest as his godfather put his other hand under his knees and lifted him up. By the time Sirius reached the spare bedroom, Harry was already fast asleep.

Sirius might not have been a morning person, on the contrary he was usually sleeping like a dead man until noon or early afternoon if nobody woke him up, but two years on the run from the Ministry officials did not leave his sleeping patterns unscathed. When it was already light outside and the short opening of an eye was enough to convince himself that he was safe and sound at Remus', Sirius was able to sleep deeply, but during the darker hours of the night it didn't take much to wake him up.

So he woke up after only the second time that Remus called him that night, sitting bolt upright in his bed, his hand automatically groping around for something to defend himself with. Sirius had yet to get used to having a wand again, and at the moment this was something Remus was thankful for. He didn't particularly like being cursed in the early morning hours.

"Shhh Sirius, it's just me. Remus."

In the dim light of the room Remus saw his friend's eyes look at him for some moments before realization and recognition dawned in those pale blue eyes. The black-haired man ran a hand across his face to get fully awake. He didn't need to ask why Remus had woken him up, after last night he had quite a good idea what this was all about.

"Harry?"

In the darkness, Remus nodded.

"Yes. He's thrashing around in his bed again."

Sirius nodded and climbed out of his bed.

"Then I'll better have a look at him. Maybe he's more talkative this night."

But not only the scene in Harry's bedroom that Sirius met upon opening the door was the same than the previous night, also Harry's mood to talk about his nightmare was the same as it had been.

Because a nightmare it had obviously been. Harry's sleeping clothes were drenched in sweat, and it was quite a struggle for Sirius to get him awake without scaring him to death. Just like last night, Harry had been raising his hands in his sleep as if to defend himself, and he had been mumbling 'no' all over again.

Once Sirius had woken him up and Harry had collected himself enough to stop shaking, he flat out refused to talk about his nightmare. In fact, Harry said that all he remembered was that he *had* a nightmare, but not what it had been about.

Sirius didn't know Harry as well as he should have, but he already knew that Harry was a bad liar. Sirius didn't believe him one bit about not remembering his nightmare, but he guessed that Harry was the one who had to make the first step, whether Sirius liked it or not.

It stung a little, this lack of faith in Sirius. After all, Harry had been able to talk openly with him only this afternoon, but obviously this wasn't enough so that the teenager was willing to talk about what was really bothering him.

Well, last night Sirius had dealt with that the only way that had come to his mind, and though Sirius didn't know if it had helped any, he seriously doubted that it had harmed Harry.

And if the kid didn't want to talk tonight either, he got hugged again. Period. Sirius had absolutely no problem with continuing this every night until his godson would finally start to talk.

Sirius thought that Harry needed to be shown a lot more affection anyhow, and if it had to be via nightly hugging, then so be it. He was perfectly aware that this would not chase away the demons that were haunting Harry, but if it gave the teenager just a little more sense of comfort, maybe enough that he'd be able to talk about all of it some day soon, then Sirius was more than willing to spend parts of his nights awake at his godson's side.

Harry was still a little reluctant to accept physical affection and comfort from Sirius, but he had the feeling that it was getting better. And, after all, they were only living together for two days now, they still had most of the holiday in front of them.

Sirius stayed in Harry's room until he was sure that the teenager had calmed enough to sleep again. He would have waited out until Harry had fallen asleep, but he guessed that his godson might feel even more embarrassed about the whole nightly situation than he already did. So, when Harry had finally stopped shaking and looked ready to go back to sleep again, Sirius wished him a good night and left Harry's bedroom again towards his and Remus' to deliver the teenager's apology for waking the werewolf.

This nightly procedure repeated itself every night for the following four days. Every night, Remus woke to the sounds of Harry thrashing around in his bed across the hall, every night he woke up Sirius and sent him over to look after his godson. Every night, Sirius went over, woke Harry up and asked him about the nightmare, and every night Harry refused to talk about it. So every of those nights, Sirius had to settle on giving his godson a reassuring hug and go to bed again, not without delivering Harry's apology for waking Remus up.

If Sirius had hoped that Harry might be more talkative during the day, he was disappointed as well. Though his godson indeed talked a lot more openly when it wasn't dark anymore, he always pretended that his nightly nightmares didn't happen at all. The three inhabitants of Remus' cottage spent the days in a pleasurable mixture of laziness, Harry's homework, Quidditch training, chess games and storytelling, but not a word was lost about whatever it was that was bothering Harry so deeply.

The night before full moon, it wasn't Remus who woke Sirius up in the middle of the night. The night before a full moon was always Remus' last chance of getting some rest and gather his strength for the transformation, and that was the one night during which it was more difficult to wake Remus than it was to throw Sirius out of bed on a rainy November morning.

But nevertheless something woke Sirius in the middle of the night, and at first he had absolutely no idea what it had been. There was no disturbing sound coming from outside, Remus was sleeping soundly in the bed next to his, and as much as he strained his ears Sirius could not hear any sounds from his godson's room.

It took him some long moments to realize that the door to his and Remus' bedroom was standing ajar and a head with messy hair was looking through the gap.

"Harry?"

The figure didn't answer, so Sirius ran a hand over his sleepy face as if to convince himself that his eyes were not playing tricks on him. But no matter how often he blinked, the scrawny figure of his godson was standing in the doorway.

"Harry? What's wrong?"

Sirius immediately jumped to his feet and hurried over towards the pyjama-clad figure of his godson.

"Harry, are you alright? Don't you feel well?"

He put a hand on Harry's forehead to check the temperature and smoothed some strands of hair away from the teenager's face with the other. Harry just shook his head.

"No, I'm fine. At least not sick, I think."

Harry's eyes quickly darted towards Remus' bed and back again.

"I...I didn't want to wake any of you, but I couldn't sleep."

Sirius smiled.

"It's alright, kiddo. It's alright. Remus sleeps unusually deep during the night before the full moon, you didn't wake him."

"Yes, but I woke you."

Sirius frowned.

"Well, but didn't you want that? I don't think you only came into our bedroom to watch me sleep, did you?"
Harry smiled slightly and shook his head.

"No. I...I couldn't sleep, and I thought that...well, you said that I could come if...something was wrong, or if I wanted to talk..."

Sirius put a hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed it gently.

"It's alright, Harry. Let's go downstairs, okay? I'll make us some hot chocolate, and you tell me what's bothering you."

Sirius carefully steered Harry out into the dark corridor and lit his newly acquired wand so that Harry would not stumble on the stairs. Once safely arrived in the kitchen, he lit the lamps and set to the task of searching the right ingredients for the hot chocolate. Once he had located the mild and chocolate powder, he heated up the milk, filled everything in a pot and added two cups and a rather large box of crackers which he found in one of the cupboards and levitated everything into the living room.

Both sat down on the sofa, chocolate and crackers in front of them and immediately a not all that comfortable silence settled over the room. Sirius quickly started a small fire in the fireplace, providing just enough light for them to see each other without completely lightening the room. Then he summoned the large light blanket that lay neatly folded on the armrest of one of the armchairs.

During the past days Sirius had developed a good feeling for the wand Dumbledore had brought him, and with a bit help from Remus' books and during the past days also from Remus himself he had been able to freshen up most of his knowledge when it came to spells.

It had not been hard for him to understand why, according to Harry, Remus had been the best teacher ever at Hogwarts. Of course, all other Defence teachers had been complete failures, but Remus' calm, ever-patient demeanour that didn't falter no matter how badly Sirius had blotched the spells had been immensely assuring. Once or twice, when Sirius had had real problems with some of the more tricky spells, Remus had explained them patiently, going into the magical theory just as much as it was needed without turning it into a boring lecture.

For the sake of Harry's protection, they had also practiced some duelling during the past two days and Merlin, Sirius had already forgotten what a tough dueller his old friend could be. Absent-mindly, he rubbed his lower abdomen where he swore he could still feel the after-effect of one of Remus' more nasty curses which he hadn't been able to deflect in time.

The silence remained hanging in the air, and when Sirius put his wand on the table and looked over at his godson, a smile spread across his face.

Harry was sitting there, leaning against the armrest, his legs folded underneath the blanket on the sofa in front of him. His chocolate all but forgotten he sat there, eyes threatening to drop close any moment now.

"Harry?"

The green eyes flickered open again and darted around for a moment before they settled on Sirius.

"What…where…oh, sorry Sirius."

"Nothing to be sorry for, kid. I just have a hard time believing that you can't sleep when you're sitting here, barely able to keep your eyes open."

"Sorry, Sirius. I didn't mean to, I mean…I shouldn't have woken you up, I know you'd rather sleep now."

Sirius was taken aback. He had known already that Harry didn't want to worry anybody overly with his own concerns, but he guessed that if the teenager had woken him then it was already a worry of the bigger kind plaguing him. And now he wanted to send him away again, just because he could not make sense out of that behaviour? It didn't really help Sirius in finding a better understanding for his godson's actions.

"It's perfectly alright Harry. Don't apologize, please. I was just wondering why you can't sleep when it's obvious that you're dead tired."

Harry shrugged, suddenly very self-conscious as to why exactly he had woken his godfather in the middle of the night. As if those nightmares weren't already bad enough, but he had been able to live with them when he had still been at Privet Drive. At least there they hadn't woken anybody up, he had never been *that* loud. It wouldn't be a problem here either, come to think of it, were it not for Remus' extremely sensitive hearing. Harry already had a bad conscience for waking him up every night, no matter how much the older man claimed that it didn't bother him at all. But it bothered Harry, and truth be told he would prefer it if the two adults would just ignore his nightly thrashing. But no, Sirius came and woke him every night, and every night he would sit on the edge of Harry's mattress, asking him to tell what it was that was bothering him. Merlin only knew what his godfather had to be thinking about him now. He was nearly fifteen years old for fuck's sake. Even if he had nightmares, it should not be bothering anybody.

The question why he had woken Sirius up at all crossed his mind. Truth be told, his nightmares had become more and more livid throughout the past nights. Harry was tired, sure, but he just didn't *want* to sleep if he only woke up sweat-drenched an hour later anyway. He didn't want to close his eyes, he didn't want to see Cedric's death over and over again. Of course he had earned it, after all Cedric could never have any nightmares again even if he wanted to, because he was dead, dead because Harry had killed him. But Harry just couldn't bear it anymore. His everyday routine of pushing away bedtime as far as possible was no mere act of childishness anymore, it was the dread of going through that horrible night time and time again. The only constant good thing about it had been the reassuring presence of his godfather every night. At first, Harry had been pretty embarrassed by Sirius' the hugging-tactics, but he had to admit that it had helped immensely.

And this evening when he had gone to bed and hadn't even been able to close his eyes for more than a minute without scaring himself bolt upright again as soon as consciousness started to flee, the urge to go over into the other bedroom and wake Sirius up had been too strong. Like a small child, Harry had wanted nothing but to seek out Sirius and let his godfather's physical presence chase away the demons that were haunting him. For more than three hours Harry had fought the struggle, but in the end had given in and sought out his godfather as his source of comfort. And right now he couldn't feel more childish about it.

Sirius had told him a week ago that he wanted to get to know Harry again, that he wanted to find out what kind of person he had become, but even despite his reassurance that it wasn't so Harry was afraid that Sirius might not like what he found once he had figured Harry out. Heck, Sirius was a grown up man with really enough worries of his own, he didn't need a nearly fifteen year old godson who behaved like a baby to top it all.

"Harry?"

Startled at being ripped out of his thoughts, Harry turned his head towards his lap and pulled the blanket up to his chin. Sirius sighed. This was turning out more and more complicated. As it became obvious that Harry wouldn't speak at the moment, Sirius decided to do it himself.

"You don't need to talk if you don't want to, you know? We can also just sit here for a while."

Again, Harry only shrugged as a response. Sirius looked at the teenager for some more moments, watched him cast his eyes down in embarrassment and finally decided that he could as well be straight forward with what he was thinking.

"That you couldn't sleep was not the problem tonight, was it?"

Harry flinched a little, but only shrugged. Again.

"I think that you *are* tired and want to sleep, but that you don't want to have those nightmares again. Right?"

A barely noticeable nod of the head was more than enough of an answer for Sirius, but he didn't want to leave it at that.

"Harry, please look at me."

Slowly, the teenager rose his head and stared at a point somewhere behind Sirius' left ear. His green eyes were shining suspiciously in the dim light of the fire, but Sirius knew better than to comment on that. He wanted to reassure the kid, not embarrass him any further.

"Harry, it's alright. It's nothing to be ashamed of. What you've been through during the past years has been no small deal, I'd be more worried if it didn't bother you at all."

"I just want to get it out of my head. I don't want to see it anymore, don't want to think about it anymore. But I can't and I haven't earned to."

It took no genius to figure out what Harry was talking about, and Sirius was far from being dumb.

"Harry, it's only been slightly less than two months, you can't expect it to be better within such a short time."

The haunted look in the teenager's eyes sent shivers down Sirius' spine. No fourteen year old should have so much pain in his gaze.

"It will never go away, Sirius. I don't think that it will ever get better."

Sirius sighed.

"No Harry, it will never go away. That this kid – Cedric, wasn't it? – is dead is tragic, and it hurts, and it will never go away. He is dead, and nobody can change that. We can only learn to live with it and try to learn how to remember him without the pain. But it will get better, Harry. You only have to give it time, and you have to learn seeing it differently."

Harry snorted.

"Why should I see it any differently? I know what happened, there's no need to see it any different."

"I think there is. Because I'm convinced that you see things wrongly."

Harry laughed mirthlessly.

"What is there that I possibly don't see right? I've been there, Sirius. That's the problem. I've been there, and I've seen what happened. I've told Cedric to take that blasted cup together, and not five minutes later he was dead. And to top it all I've let myself get tied to a tombstone and aid in the resurrection of the world's most evil wizard of the past century. What exactly is there that I should see differently, there is nothing that could make all this shit less terrible."

Without realizing it, Harry's voice had grown louder with each word until he had shouted out the last part. Sirius had watched all this without as much as blinking.

"You blame yourself."

It was a statement, not a question. Harry harrumphed harshly.

"Who else is there to blame? Without me, Cedric would still be alive. Without me, Voldemort would still be nothing more than a grotesque creature without any power except from the power to order Wormtail around. Without me, none of that shit would have happened!"

"Without you Harry, the wizarding world would have been at war for the past thirteen years and many of us, your friends, Dumbledore, Remus and I included, would probably not even be alive anymore. But I never hear you talk about that."

"Because that has been nothing I have done. It's all been because of what Mum has done, not me. I only screwed up everything that she sacrificed herself for."

Sirius nodded knowingly.

"Ah, so you *did* trick your way into the Tournament like everybody suspected, because you so desperately wanted to stand in the spotlight."

Harry resolutely shook his head.

"Of course not!"

"But you did offer Cedric to take that cup together, fully well knowing it was a portkey designed to bring you – and *only* you – into Voldemort's lair?"

"No, and you know that."

"Then did you at least go up to that cauldron and add your blood willingly so that Voldemort could get another body again?"
"Sirius, you know that I didn't do all that. Not the way you put it, at least. And now would you kindly stop whatever it is you're trying, because I really don't know what you're driving at."

"What I'm driving at is that you didn't want to be in that Tournament in the first place. Crouch enrolled you and if there is somebody to blame for it then it's him, or maybe Dumbledore and the other judges because they let you participate in it.

And when you suggested Cedric to take that cup together after you both fought so hard throughout the tournament, it wasn't because you wanted to harm him. You wanted to be fair, you wanted to leave the victory to him and when he refused, you both wanted to share it. None of you would have touched that cup if you had known what the outcome of it would be."

Harry made an attempt to speak, but Sirius shrugged him off.

"No, let me finish this, Harry. When both of you arrived at that graveyard, you didn't know what to expect. Heck, you even guessed that this was another part of that blasted task. You just didn't *know*. Cedric was in the wrong place at the wrong time, Voldemort ordered him to be killed because he didn't have any use for him. Because Voldemort is a cruel and heartless incarnation of evil.

There was nothing you could have done, Harry. Boy Who Lived or not, you are nothing more than a teenager. An underage wizard who hasn't even finished school yet. There was just no way to defend yourself against a fully educated wizard when it comes to it. It was with sheer luck that you escaped with your life.

What happened that night was tragic, it was traumatic and I would not wish anybody to go through something like this, but fact is that none of what happened was something that you caused. Voldemort is out there playing a gigantic game of chess with other people's lives, and sometimes it's just impossible to foresee his next move. There are times when we just can't help the things we get involved in, and though I know that it's difficult and that it hurts, sometimes you just have to accept that there are situations in which you are absolutely powerless, no matter how much or how desperately you want to change them. Sometimes we're just helpless and have to stand by and watch tragedy strike, and we can only hope that it'll make sense someday, in the greater picture. When it stops hurting."

Harry just shook his head and got up from the sofa. For a moment Sirius feared that he was heading back to his room and that his whole speech had been absolutely in vain, but he soon realized that the teenager only started pacing in front of the fireplace. After walking the length of the room for about five times up and down, Harry ran his hands through his hair and sighed in frustration.

"How can I think like that, Sirius? How can I think that maybe one day Cedric's death will make sense?"

Sirius looked at his godson intensely and finally shrugged his shoulders dejectedly.

"I'm afraid that I don't have the answers, Harry. But I am convinced that one day all this shit will be over and Voldemort will be gone for good. And I promise you that thinking about Cedric's death will then be different. It won't hurt as much as it does now, but only if you allow yourself to heal."

Harry stared into the fireplace for a moment, then he sank back onto the sofa and pulled his knees up to his chest again. Defiantly, he shook his head.

"It should have been me, not him. We'd all be better of if it had been me. Voldemort would not have been able to resurrect himself, Cedric would still be alive and with his friends and family. *That* would make sense."

Sirius closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, fighting down the unpleasant memories Harry's words provoked. He didn't even want to imagine Harry's last statement being true. During the night of the Third Task, he had been hiding at Hagrid's Hut, disguised as Padfoot. And though he had not been able to see what was going on inside of the maze, he had heard the crowd gasp and shout, he had seen the red sparks being shot into the air as a signal that there was somebody in trouble, and he had heard the commotion at the end of the task. By the time Harry had followed Moody inside the castle, Padfoot's sensitive ears had snatched bits and pieces of conversation, and Sirius had known that somebody had died during the event. His first thought being that it had been Harry. When McGonagall had come to fetch him from Hagrid's, that extremely shocked and disturbed expression on her otherwise stern looking face, Sirius had believed the worst coming true.

For half an hour, while he had been waiting in Dumbledore's office for somebody to tell him what exactly had happened, Sirius had believed that something serious had happened to Harry. And during those thirty minutes he had realized that this was an event he could not live with. If something happened to Harry, Sirius had no reason left to live on. Whether he knew it or not, ever since his escape from Azkaban the teenager had become Sirius' lifeline, his one single purpose to go on despite all the odds being against him. Surely, there was still Remus, but even though his old friend meant a lot to Sirius, far more than he'd ever admit into the other's face, he didn't hold the same position in his heart as Harry did. Remus could do on his own, he didn't need Sirius to go on. He had lived on his own for fourteen years. Probably, he'd even be better off on his own again, after all he had gotten used to not having Sirius around. But Harry, though the teenager had also been forced to go through everything on his own, needed Sirius. At least Sirius hoped that Harry did. Harry needed to be allowed to be a normal kid for once, to have somebody around who cared and who paid attention to what was going on in his life, and Sirius was desperate to finally fill that position.

That's why the thought that he could have lost Harry before he even had the chance to start with it had scared the wits out of Sirius during those thirty minutes in Dumbledore's office.

It had taken every bit of self-restraint not to run over and hug Harry as soon as the teenager had entered the office at Dumbledore's side, a little tired and worse for wear, but alive and at least physically unharmed as far as he could see.

Sirius shook his head. He didn't even want to imagine how close he had come to losing Harry that night.

"Harry, if Voldemort had not killed you, Cedric would not have survived either. The moment he touched that cup, his fate was sealed. Voldemort would have never let him get away. But even in the unlikely case that you had died and he had escaped, what would have been better about that? Nothing, Harry.

Cedric would be alive, true, and he would still be with his friends and family. They wouldn't have to mourn for him. But I bet you he'd be going through the same that you're going through now. He'd be feeling guilty for your death, thinking over and over again what he could have done to save you. Cedric would feel responsible just like you do, Harry. He's been older than you, more advanced in his magic. He'd think that it had been his task to protect you, the younger one who had just slipped into the tournament by accident. But you might say that it would be better for him to feel guilty than to be dead, right?"

Harry nodded slowly.

"Why doesn't the same thing apply for you, kiddo? Why isn't it better for you to feel guilty than to be dead? Why do you insist that everything would have been better if it had been the other way around?

Because it wouldn't have.

Voldemort might not have resurrected himself that night, but he would surely have done it sooner or later. He didn't need to take *your* blood Harry. He did it because he wanted and needed to show that the one time you brought him down was nothing but mere coincidence. He could have taken anybody's blood, but he chose to take yours to convince his followers and Dumbledore that he was able to do it, despite all the protection around you. Had you died before he completed the rite, Voldemort would have taken somebody else to complete it.

And did you spend just one thought on how your friends would feel if you had died? How Ron and Hermione would be feeling? How Remus or I would be feeling? And no, don't even start to say something like 'Ron and Hermione have other friends as well, they'd get used to it' or 'Remus and you don't know me well enough to miss me much' because we both know those are lies. You're Ron's best friend and believe me that the death of one's best friend is nothing that ever becomes bearable. Neither for Ron nor for Hermione. As for Remus and me, I already told you a couple of days ago that you're not just an inconvenience and a reminder of a long-dead friend of ours for us, but so much more. So there would already be four people who would be completely devastated by your death.

Harry, you can't weigh one person's life against somebody else's. It just doesn't work. And you can't change the past. As hard as it sounds, there's no use in thinking along 'what ifs', it just doesn't work. Cedric is dead, that's the cruel reality, and now we have to learn and live with it. And if you're feeling guilty about his death, then you have to learn to deal with that as well. The guilt and pain won't just vanish on their own, they'll only get better once you realize what really happened that night, what was there that you could have done and what was there that you couldn't have done. The first step being that you accept that there was nothing you could have done to prevent Cedric's death. Nothing."

Sirius gently cupped Harry's chin with his hand and forced the teenager to look into his eyes. He deliberately ignored the tears that were streaming down Harry's face.

"Nothing, Harry. Nothing you could do."

Sirius knew that this wasn't it. It would take Harry a lot longer to completely understand and especially accept that indeed there had been nothing in his power to change the course of events a month ago. But given time he eventually would understand it, he would realize that what he had done that night had already been far more than anybody would have expected a fourteen year old teenager to manage. Harry had been lucky to come out of this alive, and if he allowed himself to see things as they were, he'd eventually start to heal. That's why Sirius was more than just relieved when he saw Harry give a small, barely noticeable nod of the head. The older man let go off Harry's face and moved his hand across Harry's back in and encouraging rub. He could feel the lithe frame beneath his hand shake with a suppressed sob.

"Crying is nothing bad, Harry. Sometimes it's the only way to let it all out, all the tension, frustration and pain. No need to think that it's childish, and even if it were you'd still be entitled for a good long cry after all you've been through."

Harry just shook his head, biting his lower lip tightly in a desperate attempt to get his body's reactions back under control. He failed miserably and his chin started to tremble.

Sirius framed the teenager's face with his hands again and forced him to look into his eyes.

"Harry, you don't have to hold back just because you think I or somebody else will think less of you. Everybody who is at least a tad bit sane and reasonable knows that there are times when you just need to be weak and let others be strong for you.

Remus up there is the proudest and most stubborn person I think I've ever met, but even he used to allow others to take care of him after the full moon because he knew he was too weak to do so on his own.

There are a lot of people out there who love you, Harry, and we all are willing to do anything in our power to help you pull through this. You just have to let us in. You don't have to be afraid to be weak because we're here to catch you if you need it, alright? You don't have to pretend to be stronger than you are when all you really want is for once hand over the weight on your shoulders to somebody else."

Sirius stroke Harry's cheeks with his thumbs and pulled the teenager towards his chest even as Harry nodded and let the first sob course freely through his body.

During the previous nights when Sirius had hugged Harry he had wondered when the boy would ever learn to receive physical affection. He had always seemed surprised by the touch, and though he had not stiffened when Sirius had hugged him he had also never hugged back. Not so this night. Harry clung to Sirius as if his godfather was the only thing that kept him from drowning. His face was buried in the fabric of Sirius' t-shirt, his hands were gripping Sirius' back and holding on tightly.

All Sirius could do while Harry was crying for all he was worth was rubbing soothing circles across his godson's back and muttering reassuring phrases into his ear. It hurt Sirius nearly physically to see how much pain, anger and fear Harry seemed to have accumulated inside of him, it hurt and made him even angrier towards all those who had hurt Harry over the past years than he had been before. But Harry needed to let it all out and all Sirius could do was give him a steady shoulder to cry on. That was all that counted at the moment. He didn't know how long Harry cried, and actually it didn't matter. What mattered was that the teenager finally gave in and let out everything he had held back for far too long already.

After what seemed like a small eternity, Harry's sobbing became gradually less and eventually his breathing evened out, indicating that he had fallen asleep.

Sirius sighed and stretched back into the armrest of the sofa as far as possible without stirring Harry too much. The way it looked now, he was in for a night on the rather uncomfortable sofa, because every movement of getting up would only wake Harry up again. Sirius carefully shifted Harry into a more comfortable position, picked up his wand and performed a helpful little charm that would keep them from falling off the sofa somewhere in the night, and after adjusting the blanket around his godson and wrapping his arms around him leaned back and closed his eyes. He was asleep within minutes.

Remus woke up with the comfortable feeling of somebody who had slept longer than he usually did. The clock on his bedside table told him that it was 'bloody early, so go back to bed old wolf', and Remus turned around to give Sirius a piece of his mind about using his clock as an object for magical practice. Only that Sirius was not lying in his bed.

Remus frowned. He didn't know exactly what time it was, but he guessed that it was somewhat around half past eight in the morning. And usually, nothing short of a minor catastrophe would get Sirius out of bed before it was ten.

As he could not sleep anymore now anyway, Remus got out of bed and quickly changed his pyjamas for a jeans and a t-shirt. He could always take a shower later, when he had solved the mystery of where Sirius had gone to. For a moment Remus contemplated whether he should check in Harry's room first, but then he thought that if the teenager wasn't already awake and downstairs anyway, he could as well let him sleep some more.

His study was empty – no surprise there – as was the kitchen. The counter looked a little as if a small tornado had raged there, telling Remus that Sirius had tried to cook something. Hot chocolate, from the looks of it. He'd have to talk to the other about their 'stay away from my kitchen or I will have to hurt you' arrangement again. Though he wondered which part of it Sirius could have possibly misunderstood.

When he came into the living room, Remus didn't even bother to suppress his smile.

Sirius was there, half-lying, half-sitting on the sofa, still fast asleep. Nestled against him, a blanket tightly wrapped around his body and the first really content and peaceful look Remus had seen on him in ages on his face, was Harry. It looked as if the only thing that kept Harry from falling to the floor were Sirius' arms, and the only thing that kept Sirius from falling was...well, Remus guessed that his friend had somehow managed to beat gravity. Because there was no other explanation why he hadn't fallen off the sofa so far. For a short moment, Remus contemplated whether he should...but no. That wasn't fair. Not with Harry on the sofa as well, that would probably only serve to give the teenager a heart-attack or something. Remus would have to save his mischief for the next time he'd have to wake Sirius alone.

The smile still on his face, Remus went back into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. The best trick yet to get Sirius awake was the smell of food, if memory served him right.

Sirius stirred slightly as consciousness slowly returned. At first, he wondered immensely why he seemingly woke up before Remus saw fit to fulfil that job. He soon realized that he obviously wasn't lying in his bed, either. At least the last time he had checked, his bed had not had an armrest that was uncomfortably poking into his lower back. And if Remus' transfiguration skills had not lessened over the years, then it was also highly improbable that his bed had changed back into its former state at some point during the night.

The next thing Sirius became aware of was that of a warm weight pressing onto his chest. For a moment, the complete loss of orientation and the realization that something – or rather someone – living was lying atop of him made Sirius panic and he ripped his eyes open. His frantic gaze took in the surroundings while his still half-asleep brain tried to process the information that was sent in by the eyes. He soon recognized the room as the living room in Remus' small cottage. But why was he here and not upstairs in the bedroom he shared with his old time friend?

The weight that was half-lying on his chest shifted slightly, making Sirius look down. All he saw at first was a distinctly human-shaped form that was wrapped tightly in a blue woollen blanket and a mop of jet black hair sticking out on top of it. But that was enough for Sirius to recognize the other person on the sofa as Harry and immediately memory of the previous night returned. Of course. Harry had woken him and they had gone downstairs. How could he have forgotten that?

'Sirius, old buddy, you're slowly getting old. Won't take much longer and you'll discover the first grey hairs.'

Deciding that he didn't like the tone of his inner voice this morning, Sirius tried to focus on the more urgent questions that were bothering him.

First, what had woken him up?

He had two answers to that question, and both of them led directly to another, even more difficult question. The first answer was the smell of freshly made coffee and bacon that was drifting into the room from the kitchen, and that this what had woken him. Remus was preparing breakfast. The second answer was that he needed to go to the loo. Urgently.

And both that answers led to the question how on earth he was supposed to get off this sofa without waking Harry up. He could levitate him up, but that would surely wake the teenager. Well, it wouldn't if he put a nice little sleeping charm on Harry first, but though Sirius didn't know that much about parenting in general, he guessed that his godson would not appreciate to be conveniently put aside by magic. Sirius' second possibility was calling for help. He wouldn't need to shout, if Remus was in the kitchen his excellent hearing would even catch a loud whisper. But calling Remus for help would seriously damage his dignity.

Sirius closed his eyes and silently counted to twenty, hoping that the world would look different afterwards. Upon reaching twenty he opened his eyes again and bit his lower lip. No, hadn't worked. But now he *really* needed to go to the loo.

"Remus!"

Scratch dignity. His dignity would surely get even more damaged if he wetted himself right now. A low chuckle from the door to his right made Sirius turn his head. Remus was standing there, barefoot, wearing jeans and t-shirt, his arms crossed over his chest and a perfectly smug grin on his face. Sirius scowled into his direction.

"Good morning, Padfoot. I'm rather surprised to see you awake already."

Sirius scowled some more, which made Remus only grin even more smugly.

"Is there anything I can do to help you, Sirius?"

Sirius growled lowly.

"I need to go to the bathroom."

"I dare hope that you don't need me to help you with *that*. Sirius, you're thirty-six years old, if you can't do that alone by now it might be better for Padfoot to be put down."

With his free right hand, Sirius made a very rude gesture into the direction of his friend, but not even that could lessen Remus' extremely cheerful mood this morning.

"I am very able to do that on my own, thank you very much. My problem is that I'm in a bit of a tight spot right now. Meaning: it's urgent. And for that I have to make Harry leave my chest. Which is where you come into the plan."

Remus just shook his head.

"Sirius, I don't want to feed my reputation as a know-it-all, but have you tried *waking* him?"

Sirius sighed and rolled his eyes dramatically.

"The whole point of you helping me here is *not* to wake him. Otherwise I could do it on my own and we wouldn't have this discussion right now. Which, I might add, is taking away more and more time which I don't have."

Remus laughed.

"As much as I'd like to help you, I think that waking Harry up is the only possibility you have right now. Besides, it's nearly nine and he'll probably wake up soon anyway."

Seeing that he was fighting a losing battle – against Remus as well as his bladder – Sirius sighed and gently nudged Harry's shoulder and rubbed across the teenager's back once with his other hand. Slowly, Harry stirred. Sirius nudged him again and a moment later a bleary green eye looked out from between the messy hair and the blanket. It obviously took Harry some moments as well to realize where he was, who was lying under him and how he had ended up in this situation. As the memory returned and Harry realized that not only Sirius, but also Remus was here to witness how he had cuddled up to Sirius like a small child for the entire night, Harry blushed and immediately tried to push himself into a sitting position. Relieving Sirius of his weight would have helped the older man immensely, had the teenager not accidentally pushed one of his knees into Sirius' lower abdomen in the process. With a muffled yelp Sirius jumped to his feet and ran out of the room at a speed that rivalled Padfoot on a rabbit chase. Harry stared after his godfather with a completely confused expression on his face while Remus could not hide his grin any longer. Harry tiredly rubbed his eyes and tried to start his brain making sense of things again.

"'Morning, Remus."

"Good morning, Harry."

"What was that all about?"

Harry gestured vaguely at the spot Sirius had only a moment ago occupied and then at the door through which his godfather had left. Remus grinned some more.

"Well Harry, older people tend to have bladder problems. And the fact that he didn't want to wake you didn't exactly help him to lessen his discomfort."
Harry blushed a little.

"I should not have kept him down here all night. I didn't even mean to sleep in here at all."

Remus looked at Harry, taking in the red-rimmed eyes with the dark shadows underneath, remembered the content and untroubled way Harry had been sleeping in Sirius' arms and thought that whatever had happened between those two last night had been both a good and a necessary thing. He waved dismissively at Harry.

"I wouldn't worry about that. When I came in this morning, you were not the only one who looked quite comfortable with the sleeping arrangements. Until Sirius' bladder took over, that is."

He grinned again and then turned back towards the kitchen.

"Breakfast is ready, why don't you come over?"

Harry frowned.

"In my pyjamas?"
Remus turned around and looked at Harry as if the teenager had suddenly grown a second head.

"Harry, this is not Hogwarts. None of us really bothers *what* you're wearing for breakfast, and I highly doubt that Sirius will take the time to dress up once he has caught the scent of something edible. Wear your pyjamas, muggle clothes, your robes, heck, you can even wear a cocktail dress if you like."

Remus made a step towards the kitchen, then stopped, turned on his heels and looked at Harry with a somewhat confused expression on his face.

"Forget the cocktail dress. It was more a figure of speech."

He vanished into the kitchen and Harry slowly rose from the sofa, wondering if any of his friends were living in similarly weird (in a nearly completely positive sense) circumstances.

Within an hour after a lazy and long-stretched breakfast everybody in the Lupin-Potter-Black household was showered, shaved if necessary, combed if possible and dressed in muggle clothing of the non-cocktail dress style. And from then on the day went on like the previous week had done, at least for Harry. He spent two hours in the morning with doing his Potions essay, so that he wouldn't need to bother with it in the afternoon. He planned on spending it with more pleasant things.

It didn't take Harry very long after he had packed up his homework and left his room shortly before noon to realize that this wasn't a normal day for everybody in the house. Truly, he had seen Remus on a couple of full-moon days before, but then he had not known about his lycanthropy and had not paid any attention to his behaviour. Now he realized quite quickly what Remus had meant with 'the wolf's pull getting stronger'.

Usually, Remus spent most of his mornings in his study, reading copies of suspicious letters that had been intercepted by somebody close to Dumbledore or doing researches that had to do with leafing through old and dusty volumes that were written in what Harry would not have immediately recognized as human languages. Harry had often wondered how somebody – except from Hermione of course – could find the patience to get completely absorbed in books and mind-work.

But patience didn't seem to be one of Remus' virtues today. One moment he was sitting in an armchair reading a book, the next moment he was standing in the kitchen, needlessly cleaning the counter for the umpteenth time. And then there was the pacing. Harry had seen Sirius pace a lot during their brief meeting in the cave near Hogwarts last year, and already back then he had attributed this to the fact that his godfather had spent a lot of time in his canine form. Now he saw his suspicion confirmed because whenever Remus wasn't trying to distract himself with very little success, he was pacing to and fro as if he wanted to burn holes into the carpets around his house.

Sirius, Harry realized, was also behaving differently. Usually, he was either practicing whatever spells he considered useful or he hung around where Harry was and tried to spend time with his godson. Today, he was never far away from where Remus was pacing at the moment, constantly watching his old friend with a strange mixture of concern, attentiveness and some other emotions Harry didn't recognize on his face. He didn't do anything to interrupt Remus in whatever it was that he was doing, but he was always watching his friend attentively. Harry could not imagine any real reason why his godfather would need to watch Remus *all* the time, but he guessed that Sirius was just concerned about Remus' wellbeing.

Mealtimes passed more quickly and silently as the day advanced. Neither Sirius nor Remus ate very much, they rather picked around on their plates.

Harry shortly thought about suggesting Sirius to play a game of wizard's chess after dinner, but quickly dismissed this thought again. It would be a good opportunity to win against his godfather, no doubt about that, but it would not really be fun to play against him if Sirius' mind was completely elsewhere. So instead, Harry grabbed the copy of the Daily Prophet that was lying on the low table in front of the sofa and started to read. He was halfway through the sports pages (and it wasn't looking good for the Chudley Canons – again) when Sirius' voice interrupted him.

"Harry?"

He put the paper down and looked first at Remus then at his godfather. Sirius was looking back at him, but Remus had merely stopped his pacing and was now standing in front of the fireplace, his arms crossed on the mantelpiece and his forehead leaned against them.

"Yes?"
"It's time to go upstairs now."

The clock on the mantelpiece showed that it was nine o'clock. Moonrise was at 9.27. Remus and Sirius needed to prepare...well, whatever it was that they had to prepare before moonrise and for that they needed to make sure that he was upstairs first. Harry nodded and got up from the sofa.

"Sure. I'll see you in the morning, then."

Harry started to walk towards the door, but stopped as he passed by Remus. He didn't really know what to say, but he felt the need to say *something*. Not because he pitied Remus for what he was about to go through – though he wouldn't wish to go through his himself only once – but because he wanted to show his former teacher that though he wasn't used to the thought of having a werewolf in the basement while he slept, he also didn't feel too bothered by it and only hoped that Remus would get out of this relatively unharmed tonight. But how to put that into words?

"Take care Remus, alright?"
Remus lifted his head from his hands and looked up, forcing himself to smile at the teenager.

"I will. Don't worry about me. Good night, Harry."

"Night, Remus."

As soon as Harry had gone upstairs, Sirius went out into the hall and warded the staircase with the strongest blocking spells he knew. That should be enough to stop Moony from going after Harry in the unlikely case that the werewolf could free himself out of the basement. He'd do the same with the stairs leading down as soon as Remus was inside the locked room.

Fifteen minutes before moonrise, Remus and Sirius went into the basement together. Sirius was not surprised that he could still read his old friend even though they had been apart for over a decade. The wolf didn't change his behaviour that much, he realized, and neither did its influence on its human host. Remus was unusually quiet and subdued during the minutes before the moon rose, and Sirius knew that the only reason for that was an immense struggle of willpower Remus was fighting out against Moony. He forcibly kept the wolf down as much as he could until he was safely locked away.

"Are you really sure that you don't want to have Padfoot's company tonight?"
Remus turned in the basement doorway and looked at Sirius, his amber eyes already glowing with the savage crudeness of the beast he was carrying within himself for over thirty years now. The beast he was constantly fighting down so that it would not take over his mind and actions. Remus shook his head.

"No. I'll be fine on my own, you need to look after Harry. In case somebody attacks tonight, it would be too risky to have you locked in the cellar with me."

Slowly, Sirius nodded. He didn't like the idea of Remus spending the full moon alone, he had seen too often what the wolf's rage could do to his friend's body if nobody was there to stop him in the past, and though both Albus and Remus had reassured him that the potion took away all those effects, Sirius didn't trust in the brew. After all, Snape had prepared it. *Snape*. But he did see the reason behind Remus' words. He was right, as always.

"It's time, Sirius."

Remus handed over his wand and then, reluctantly, shrugged out of his robe and trousers which he also handed Sirius so that Moony wouldn't shred them to pieces. As soon as he realized that he was standing naked in front of Sirius, he blushed. It was ridiculous, really. Sirius had seen him naked uncountable times. They had shared a dormitory for seven years, shared the showers there, they had been living together for four years afterwards, heck they had been *together* as lovers for slightly more than five years. Not to mention the uncountable number of times when Sirius had witnessed his transformations without walls and wards separating them. Undressing in front of him should not be a big thing at all, there was nothing Sirius hadn't already seen a thousand times. But this felt different than all the times before and Remus could not help but feel uncomfortable at doing so. As soon as Sirius had taken the clothes, Remus turned his back towards the door and him.

"Leave now, Sirius."

He could already feel the first tremors of the transformation shudder through his body. Sirius stretched out his hand towards Remus and, after a short moment of hesitation, squeezed his shoulder gently.

"Take care, Remus."

The only answer he received was a nod of the head, then Sirius closed, locked and warded the door. He put a strong silencing charm in place, then leaned his head and hands against the door, hoping against all reason that his presence so close out here would make the agony Remus was going through right now at least a little bit better.

When he was convinced that enough time had passed for the transformation to be complete, Sirius pushed himself off the door and started to climb the stairs again, heading for his position in the living room. He would not be able to sleep tonight, that much he already knew.