June 1995.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt´s been a real asset, too; he's in charge of the hunt for Sirius, so he's been feeding the Ministry information that Sirius is in Tibet."

* * * * *

No time for annoying or funny remarks right now; things have got serious. I mean really serious. About a week ago, Dumbledore paid me a visit. He explained a few things to me, for example that all Death Eaters have the Dark Mark tattooed on their left arm. Did you know that? I surely didn't! But I think we can be fairly certain that it was that what Karkaroff showed dear Snivellus. Apparently the Dark Mark is getting dark again, which is, as I heard, a sign that The Ugly One (Voldemort, not Snape) is regaining power. (No funny remarks doesn't seem to work, sorry. Comments like these are sort of my trademark.) Dumbledore also told me he'll arrange a wand for me, but I have to wait a few more months for that. Oh well, what are a few months after more than thirteen years without a wand?

The next day I got a letter from Harry which increased my worries considerably. He told me that Ludo Bagman had been to the School to show the Triwizard champions what the Third Task would be about (hmm, he told me but I won't spoil it for you; it's not important anyway). Afterwards, Viktor Krum asked Harry if he could have a word with him. The two of them walked off to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where they encountered none other than Bartemius Crouch, talking, according to Harry, utter nonsense.

Can you imagine? Crouch? Talking nonsense?

Harry had the good sense to go and warn Dumbledore, but he was foolish enough to leave Krum behind to guard Crouch. When they got back, Krum had been Stunned and Crouch had disappeared to Merlin-knows-where. Moody went to look for him, but I haven't yet heard whether he's found him. Karkaroff, who was brought in later, was of course furious, saying that Dumbledore was trying to get rid of the Durmstrang champion, etc. Harry wrote to me the very next day. I told him off for walking to the Forest with Krum when it was already evening, of course.

Then (yeah, sorry for the long letter) a few days later I got another letter from Harry, in which he told me that he'd fallen asleep during Divination and he'd got a vision in which he saw Voldemort and Peter. He immediately went to Dumbledore to tell the Headmaster everything. Because of things that are too complicated and not important enough to explain, Harry also found out about the pleasant past of Snape and Karkaroff, and he was kind enough to repeat it all for me. Incidentally, Dumbledore also send me a letter with a detailed account of what had happened. He thinks Harry got that vision because of some kind of connection with Voldemort. I for me don't know what to think anymore. We don't know what to expect, where the danger is coming from or even when it is coming. Ironically enough, life was easier with Voldemort and his supporters running rampant out in the open.

I've warned Harry to concentrate on the Third task, because that's the most important right now. If he survives that one, we can worry about Voldemort later. Apart from that, I've got nothing to do but sit around and wait for the supposedly inevitable to show up – or not.

Padfoot.

PS: your name? What about it? (Okay, hit me.)

* * * * *

23 more days until the Third task.

The Daily Prophet had taken to counting the days again, just like they had done with the first two tasks and with the Quidditch World Cup. It was actually slightly annoying and completely unnecessary for Remus because he was counting the days anyway.

23 more days until Harry had to take the final hurdle. 23 more days before life could go back to its relative peacefulness from before. 23 more days of nervous waiting.

Remus laid Sirius' letter next to the newspaper. There was nothing about Crouch in the wizard newspaper – not that Remus had really expected anything. The last few stories about Harry had been so far from the truth that Remus had learned to take the Daily Prophet with a few grains of salt. Several grains, in fact.

The bell rang. Remus hastily folded Sirius' letter and put it in his pocket before he went to open the door.

There were two men outside. One was of Remus' height, with black hair and ditto robe. He was looking suspiciously around as if he didn't trust the quiet, peaceful situation at all. The other was a tall, black man. His head was bald, and he had a gold hoop in his ear. He held an elaborately decorated identification under Remus' nose.

"Mr Lupin?" he said in a rather low voice which somehow sounded familiar. "I'm Kingsley Shacklebolt, Auror. We're here because of the escaped prisoner Sirius Black. We would like a word with you; can we come in?"

A few minutes later, Remus was fixing drinks for the two Aurors. Kingsley Shacklebolt was sitting at the kitchen table while the other one, who had introduced himself as Michael Nichols, was unobtrusively scanning the house. It made Remus think of Alastor Moody.

He gave Kingsley the requested orange juice, and his colleague got a simple glass of water. Remus made sure to keep his hand steady, even though he was inwardly trembling. He felt utterly relieved that he had pocketed Sirius' letter before he'd opened the door. Now he only hoped they weren't going to search his house, because he wasn't sure how he was going to explain away all the letters by Sirius he kept in a drawer of his desk.

Kingsley took a gulp of the orange juice, then he put the glass on the table. "Let me explain why we are here. I already told you we're here because of the escaped convict Black. I myself am in charge of the search for him, and my colleague Nichols – " he indicated the man, who nodded to Remus " – has been of some assistance in informing me that you used to be a close friend of Black."

"You found that out only recently?" Remus drew up both his eyebrows.

"No, but we had some difficulty discovering your whereabouts," Kingsley admitted. "We hadn't counted on the fact that we had to go… somewhere else to find your address."  

You mean to the Werewolf Registry, Remus thought. He crossed his arms. "And how can I help you?"

Kingsley bowed forwards and crossed his arms as well, leaning on the table. "I'd hoped you could help us find Black. Would you mind coming with us to the Auror Headquarters and answer some questions?"

Remus thought this over for a few moments. He'd rather not do it: what if he let something slip? On the other hand, not going would seem suspicious as well, and he didn't have a reason good enough to convince the two Aurors he couldn't come. So he nodded instead, hoping it wouldn't get too hard to deny any knowledge of Sirius' whereabouts.

"Sure," he said. "You want me to come this instance?"

"If it's not too inconvenient," Kingsley said politely. There was still something annoyingly familiar in his way of talking and moving, but Remus couldn't quite put his finger on it.

He put his cloak on and the three of them walked outside (Nichols put his glass with water back in the kitchen sink; he hadn't drunk from it).

"We'll Apparate to the telephone box – you do know how to Apparate?" Kingsley wanted to know. Remus nodded.

"We'll Apparate to the telephone box," the Auror repeated, "and go to the Atrium through that way." Remus nodded again to show he had understood. With a soft pop, the three of them Apparated to London.

Remus had never been on the second level of the Ministry of Magic before. He usually got out on the fourth level, where the Registry was located and where Romulus worked. It looked roughly the same however: oak doors leading to a large room with cubicles. A lopsided sign on the nearest cubicle announced where they were: Auror Headquarters. Right next to it was a poster with the Holyhead Harpies, the only female Quidditch team.

Kingsley lead Remus down the row of cubicles. Michael Nichols said goodbye halfway along the road and disappeared in a cubicle. Remus peered curiously in the cubicles as he went along: he'd always wanted to know what working as an Auror was like. It appeared it wasn't all that dangerous and stressful as Moody sometimes made it seem: the cubicles were decorated with posters of Quidditch teams and rock bands and photos of family and friends. Many Aurors were talking to one another instead of working – or maybe it is working they're doing, Remus thought – and there was a buzz in the air from the voices.

They finally reached the last cubicle. Remus looked inside, blinked, then did a double take. Instead of posters, the walls were covered with photo. And not just photos – everywhere he looked he saw Sirius, James, more Sirius – there was even a photo of the four friends. He stared at his sixteen-year old self smiling broadly back.

"Where did you get all these photos?" he asked.

"From Black's apartment in London," Kingsley explained. "After he was caught, the Aurors confiscated most of it since his family didn't want any of it. It has been stored away for twelve years, and it came in handy when he escaped."

"Hmm," Remus answered. He indeed remembered someone asking if he wanted to sort out Sirius' stuff, but he had refused. For one thing, he had already been asked to sort out the Potter's possessions as well, and he had suspected that he would started throwing things out of the window if he had to go through Sirius' possessions.

"Would you like something to drink?" Kingsley asked. "Tea? Coffee?"

"Tea please."

The Auror poked his head out of the cubicle and called "can someone bring us tea?" down the line of cubicles.

"I´ll do it!" a witch replied.

"No, that's quite alright," Kingsley said somewhat hastily. Remus looked up from the photo with Sirius holding little Harry.

"Really, I'm not going to trip or anything," the witch said, sounding rather indignantly. Kingsley sighed and resigned. He made an apologetic gesture to Remus, appeared to think something over, then he came standing next to Remus, who was still looking at the photographs.

"Do you like them?" he asked.

"There's stuff I don't remember having seen before," Remus said. He pointed at a photo of Sirius and James having fits of laughter over something. The happiness that radiated from it was infectious and he couldn't help smiling himself. "They must have made this one when I wasn't there, because I can't remember when this was."

"It does make one sad, looking at all these pictures," Kingsley noted, looking around. "So much joy, so many smiling faces – such a horrible, abrupt ending."

"Yeah," Remus said. His smile faded. "Yeah, it is." James and Lily waved at him, baby Harry on Lily's lap and Sirius behind them. Remus had made this photo himself in the Potter's garden.

"Did someone ask for tea?" Remus turned around.

A witch was standing in the opening of the cubicle, a tea-tray wobbling precariously in her hands. Her hair was long and black, tied back in a ponytail. She was shorter than Remus, but somehow there was something in her that made him think of Sirius.

Kingsley hastily took the tray from her. "Yes, thanks Tonks," he said.

Remus frowned. "Excuse me – Tonks? Have we met before?"

"This is Remus Lupin, he used to be a friend of Black," Kingsley Shacklebolt introduced him.

The witch laughed. "Don't think we've met before, but you've probably heard about me," she said. "I'm right over there." She pointed at one of the few photos that weren't moving, and Remus took a closer look. Sirius was sitting at a table, his hands folded in front of him and a broad smile on his face. There was a six-year old girl sitting next to him in the same pose and a nearly identical smile, but with her eyes almost adoringly glancing at Sirius.

"My dad made that, early 1981," Tonks said. She had came to stand just behind Remus and looked over his shoulder. "Sirius was my mum's favourite cousin and he often came over to our house." She pulled up her shoulders, suddenly looking annoyed. "My mum gave these photos to the Ministry when he escaped from Azkaban. Said that he was apparently not much better than the rest of his family if he could betray his best friends and his baby Godson."

"And what do you think?" Remus asked. Tonks shrugged.

"I dunno. He was pretty anti-Dark Wizard, and he hated his family," she said. "So it's a bit strange that he turned out to be working with You-Know-Who after all. On the other hand, I was only seven at the time, so what do I know?" 

"We're lucky, then, that the people who are looking for Black are the people who do know," Kingsley cut in. Tonks pulled a face.

"He won't let me help," she explained to Remus. "Says I'm too young."

"Which you are," Kingsley said. "Get some more experience first, then we'll see. If we still need you by then, that is. Now, off you go."

"Yes sir," Tonks said, doing a mock-salute. She left the cubicle, waving goodbye to Remus. Kingsley shook his head.

"She is so eager to help, but she ís too young," he said.

"Hm," Remus answered. Then he said: "perhaps it's a bit… rude to ask, but have we met before?" Kingsley laughed.

"Yes, we have, but I hadn't thought you'd remember," he said. "I was three years above you at Hogwarts. When you were in second year, I told you off for making a mess of the common room."

"You did?" Remus said, laughing with amazement. Now he thought about it… "Didn't you use to have a lot of hair, sorry for asking?"

"Yes," Kingsley grinned. "But I shaved it off. A bald head is more useful for an Auror anyway."

"I see." Remus looked around the cubicle. Talking about a trip down memory lane, he thought.

"It is one of the reasons this case… fascinates me," Kingsley cut through Remus' thoughts. The Auror had picked up a few sheets of parchment and walked towards Remus. "They were such close friends, they were almost literally never without the other. What made Black betray his best friends?"

"Hm," Remus replied vaguely. How was he going to explain the truth, if he was going to tell it? He looked around again. Ironically enough, the photos with Wormtail on them were few and far between: Peter had been camera-shy, and he had usually been the photographer.

Kingsley cleared his throat. "Now, as for the reason why we're here…"

"Oh, right." Remus sat down on a chair Kingsley had pulled up for him and Kingsley sat down opposite him. He placed a quill on one of the sheets of parchment.

"June 1, 1995. Questioning of Remus Lupin," he said. When he caught Remus' look, he added: "don't worry, questioning sounds worse than it is." The quill obediently wrote everything down, then came to a quivering halt at the beginning of a new line.

Kingsley bowed slightly forwards, his hands folded in front of him. "Now, Mr Lupin. Can you tell in short how long you've known Sirius Black?"

"Err, we met on the Hogwarts Express," Remus said. "That was… the first of September, 1971. The last time I saw him was…" April of this year, he thought, but said: "I think it was October 1981 – no wait, of course not. The last time I saw him was the sixth of June, 1994."

"Can you tell me what happened then?"

Remus explained that he had been teaching at Hogwarts and how he had seen Sirius in the Shrieking Shack. Without going into too much detail, he told how he had 'saved' Harry, Ron, Hermione and Snape from the murderous madman Sirius. It was the version Dumbledore had given Fudge to save Remus' job and reputation, and as he was going along, Remus found it gradually easier to tell the story himself. The enchanted quill wrote everything down, including the "eh"s and "hm"s.

"Did you have any idea Black was one of You-Know-Who's most trusted servants?" Kingsley wanted to know.

Remus shook his head. "I had absolutely no idea. Like she –" he gestured to the opening of the cubicle to indicate Tonks "– already said, he was against anything to do with Dark magic, and he hated his family, who were openly supporting V- You-Know-Who." Openly supporting V- You-Know-Who, the quill echoed. It made Remus chew his lower lip pensively. Peter had never been a supporter of Voldemort either – at least, he'd never shown it – but that was of course the point of being a traitor so the fact that Sirius had always claimed an aversion for Voldemort didn't say anything actually. Remus hoped that Kingsley would take him at his word and believe him.

"What do you know about Black's current whereabouts?" was the next question. Remus looked at Kingsley. The Auror looked back, his expression black except for a slight curiosity. There was no hint of suspicious, just honesty. Remus decided to take a bold step.

He stretched out his hand and took the quill from the parchment. It quivered in his hand: it felt like holding a protesting bird. "Can you keep a secret?" he asked. His heart was racing: he was gambling Sirius' life on the hope that Kingsley would hear him out.

"That depends," Kingsley said slowly.

"If someone's life depended on it?" Remus asked, a slight note of urgency in his voice.

"Who's life?"

"Sirius' life," Remus said. Then, when he saw this didn't convince Kingsley, he added: "most likely Harry Potter's life as well."

Kingsley appeared to think this over. Remus waited with baited breath; Harry had been his last card. Then Kingsley got to his feet and plucked the quill from Remus' fingers. 

"C'mon, let's get outside," he said. He uncharmed the quill, crumpled the piece of parchment and threw it in the bin. Remus followed him out of the cubicle.

"I'm going to get some lunch," Kingsley told another Auror in the next cubicle. "If there's a memo or an owl for me, put it on my desk."

They went upstairs with the elevators and the telephone box until they were standing on the street again.

"There's a small park not so far from here," Kingsley said. They walked towards it in silence.

The park was already filled with people enjoying the fine weather. Children were running around on the grass, and a mother with two small children was feeding the ducks in the pond. However, when Remus took a closer look, he saw several people dressed in robes, and one man was reading a bunch of papers which on closer inspection turned out to be sheets of parchments.

"Is this the Ministry's official park or something?" he asked.

"Not official, but it is close to the Ministry. It's usually packed around lunchtime," Kingsley said. They started to walk slowly around the pond.

"You asked whether I could keep a secret," Kingsley said. "What kind of secret?"

"Well, uhm, imagine that, hypothetically speaking, Sirius was innocent," Remus began. "What would you do?"

Kingsley's answer came immediately: "I would ask you if you had proof for that."

"Then I'd tell you that my only witnesses are the escaped convict in question, three under-age wizards, a werewolf – and Peter Pettigrew."

"I would ask you to explain yourself because Pettigrew is dead. Black murdered him."

"No, that's what Peter made everybody think," Remus said. Kingsley pulled up his eyebrows.

"Explain."

Remus told him the story of what had really happened in the Shrieking Shack, from Sirius pulling Ron into the Whomping Willow until the next day, when Snape had caused Remus to resign from his job. During all this, Kingsley's face didn't change expression, but he listened carefully. When Remus was done, he said: "let's say I believe you. Why would you want me to know all this?"

"Because you're in charge of the Ministry's search for Sirius," Remus said. "Things will get easier if you're not constantly on his tail."

"You want me to fool the Ministry by feeding them false information," Kingsley said cleverly.

"Well, yes, actually."

"And what would I gain with that?"

"You would keep an innocent man out of Azkaban – or from a worse fate," Remus answered.

Kingsley looked at him, squinting his eyes against the bright sun. Instead of robes and a cloak, he wore pants and a long overcoat which made him look almost Muggle, save for a few slight differences – the long, thin wand-pocket in the coat for example, and the fact that he didn't have a zipper (too Muggle, even though Remus thought them quite useful). 

"Where is Black now?" he asked finally.

"I can't tell you," Remus said honestly. "Not just yet. But he's been to Spain, Morocco, Egypt for a few hours, France and Belgium." To his surprise, Kingsley nodded as if he was merely confirming the Auror's suspicions. 

"And do you know where Pettigrew is?"

"No," Remus had to admit. "But probably somewhere where You-Know-Who is."

Kingsley pulled up an eyebrow again. "Another wizard who's raised from the death?"

"Well, I don't even think he was really dead to begin with," Remus said.

"Not dead? Next moment you're going to tell me he's planning to spectacularly rise from the not-death at the Triwizard Tournament," Kingsley said sceptically. Then, seeing Remus' expression: "oh never mind…" He pensively did a few steps, then stopped again.

"I don't know what to think," he said. "For more than thirteen years everybody said it was Black who was the traitor. I believed it myself. Then you turn up – and you rightfully said yourself that, er, your… kind, uhm, isn't the most trusted in the wizard world – and you're telling me it's not like that and that Black's been in Azkaban, innocent, for twelve years!"

Remus nodded but said nothing.

"And even more, that Peter Pettigrew's apparently still alive, just like You-Know-Who," Kingsley continued.

"Trust me, I had a hard time believing it too," Remus said. "But it's true. I saw Peter with my own eyes, and I can tell if Sirius is lying or not, I know him well enough. And he wasn't lying when he told me he was innocent."

"But the Wizengamot doesn't know him like that," Kingsley objected. "I don't know him like that. The Dementors don't even care. It's your word against… everybody else's really."

"I know," Remus sighed.

The two of them were silent for a few minutes. Remus watched a few ducks quarrel about a breadcrust but he didn't really see them. Kingsley was right: how was he going to prove anything without giving too much away?

"Would a letter be enough prove?" he asked finally.

"A letter by whom?" Kingsley said sceptically. "Peter Pettigrew explaining that he's not dead after all?"

"No, a letter by Sirius explaining what really happened."

"And how do I know you didn't fake that letter?"

"You will have to trust me," Remus said simply.

Kingsley thought this over for several long moments. Remus waited impatiently, hoping that he had made the right decision. Eventually, Kingsley said: "okay, send it to me. I'll read it, then I'll decide what to think of this."

Remus opened his mouth to say something, but Kingsley cut him off: "I will of course be discreet about this. Not a word will go to my superiors or, God forbid, the Minister himself. Of course, if anything of this comes out we'll both be dead."

"Sirius even worse than that," Remus muttered to himself. He nodded to Kingsley. "I'll ask him to write the letter." He didn't say it, but he hoped with all his might that he had done the right thing in trusting Kingsley Shacklebolt.

~*~

Only 19 days to go until the Third task.

Just like the Daily Prophet, Sirius had took to counting the days, but he did it with a lot less cheerful anticipation. Only 19 days until Harry had to face Merlin-knew-what. Yes, a maze, but what was in it? He had asked Dumbledore, who had written back a list with the things the champions had to fight, but that hadn't reassured Sirius. Not at all, actually: it sounded terribly difficult for a boy of only fourteen. And even though Harry had written Sirius that he was practising hard and was looking forward to the third task with more confidence than he had done to the first two tasks, Sirius still felt worried.

It didn't help much that he had no idea what Voldemort and Peter were up to, being virtually locked up in his cave as he was. Yes, Harry had had that vision a couple of weeks ago, but that didn't really calm Sirius' feeling of unrest.

He was pacing the cave, thinking things over, but his thoughts appeared to go in circles, and he didn't come much further than 'something bad is going to happen'.

He sat down on his bed and picked up Remus' letter, reading it again although he already knew what it said. He had written the long letter to Kingsley Shacklebolt two days ago but hadn't received a reply to it yet. He wasn't sure whether he liked Remus' decision to tell an Auror about him, but there was now nothing he could do about that. There was nothing he could do about anything, actually.

Once again it comes down to waiting, he thought, and he sighed. Only 19 days to go…

* * * * *

That has to be a record! The longest letter in Sirius-history, without a doubt!

A fascinating read – albeit an extremely worrying one. I'm afraid I have nothing helpful to say, save maybe for one little thing.

Yesterday, two Aurors from the Ministry showed up on my doorstep. One of them introduced himself as Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Auror in charge of the search for you. I've been so bold as to tell him you're innocent, but he doesn't believe me (partly because I'm a werewolf, partly because it's a rather insane story and everybody's always believed the opposite, and probably partly because he knew us from Hogwarts – it turned out he was a few years above us). I sort of promised him you'd send him a letter explaining what had really happened. PLEASE do that! You can send the letter to me and I'll forward it to Kingsley, but please send that letter! If we can convince him you're innocent, it'll be much easier to keep out of the Ministry's hands because he can feed them wrong information. At least, it seemed like a good idea at the time, so please consider it.

Moony.

PS: well, Remus and Romulus are the founders of – oh Merlin, I'm not even going to bother.