The chapter before this one has caused some controversy because I had made Sirius and Remus sleep in the same bed. I shall say it again to comfort everybody who's worrying: THIS IS NOT GOING TO BE SLASH! HONESTLY! REALLY!

And just so you know: I made up that last scene in december 2003 and it has nothing to do with what other people have said or a review I have got or whatever. It's truly my own imagination…
This chapter has eight pages. I'm brainwashed: I realised that I was counting the pages (nice, print preview, gives you such a nice overview of how many pages you've written exactly) and thinking: only six pages? Too short, it should have at least another two pages...
Bah, I want to get back to the days when three pages was long... ;)
Since those days are gone, I'll just have to give you eight pages, sadly. I hope that's ok with you, I somehow think it is...

Oh, and though it says "the end", it's not really the end: there'll be an interview with Sirius in two weeks time. If you have a question you'd really like to ask, you can of course. Just put it in your review. :)
Enjoy!

Early July, 1995.
"I say to you all, once again – in the light of Lord Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Lord Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust."

Remus wished he hadn't suggested Sirius sleeping in his bed.
It weren't the nightmares, although Sirius still had them. After a few sleepless nights, Remus had learned to turn around and nudge Sirius while he was still sleeping, every time his friend started groaning and turning abruptly. It was, Remus had said, like fine-tuning a broken radio: give it a good whack and it works perfectly fine again. Even though Sirius wasn't exactly happy with being compared to a broken radio, he had to admit the somewhat harsh method worked.
It wasn't Sirius tendency to snore either, nor the long black hairs Remus sometimes found. It wasn't even waking up with a pair of cold feet against your own warm ones. No, what really annoyed Remus was the fact that Sirius always woke up at dawn, couldn't fall asleep again, and started walking around the house.
"I can't help it, it's become a habit," Sirius had said. "Dementors don't sleep, they just get more or less active. And that was always around dawn and sunset."
It was the same this morning, a week after Sirius had arrived. Remus could hear his friend rummage about in the kitchen, making himself breakfast and talking animatedly to Monster. Once he'd got past the initial suspicion, Monster had taken a liking to Sirius He especially liked Sirius' way of tossing him up the stairs so he wouldn't have to walk – or, rather, bounce – all the way up anymore. And sure enough –
"One Monster coming up!" Sirius called. Remus heard something bounce against the walls, and a few moments later the Puffskein walked into the room.
"Hey, good morning," he said sleepily. "Did Sirius make you breakfast?" Monster purred.
"Yeah, I know," Remus continued. "Time for me to get out of bed as well." He immediately put his words into action and got up. He got dressed, threw Sirius' socks in the laundry basket – he really needed to talk to Sirius about that – and walked downstairs, Monster bouncing just behind him.
Sirius was in the kitchen, sitting at the table and reading the Daily Prophet. He looked up when he heard Remus come in. "Mail's arrived," he said.
"Ah, good." Remus picked up the two letters. Sirius watched as he opened the first letter. "This one's from Dumbledore," he said, reading it quickly.
"What does he say?"
"That the rest of the Order's ready too, and that we're basically ready to go," Remus summarised. "Oh, he also added a little about Harry."
"And?"
"That he's thoroughly shaken – not surprising, I think – but that he's recovering amazingly well. Apparently Harry can take a few blows."
Sirius beamed as if it was all thanks to him. "Of course he can. James never gave up either."
"Yeah, Snape would have to agree with that," Remus said, smiling. He opened the second envelope and took out a sheet of parchment. "Hey, Kingsley wrote back."
"Really?" Sirius walked around the table to look over Remus' shoulder. "What'd he write?"
"'The letter you send me sounded genuine'," Remus read aloud. "'It also agrees with Tonks' disbelief in Black being guilty'."
"Tonks?" Sirius repeated. "Tonks who?"
"Beat me," Remus said. "She works at the Ministry too, but we never got properly introduced. Anyway, he says he wants to see you."
"Oh." Then, after a few seconds silence: "why?"
"Probably to check if I'm not some nutcase who's making it all up, and who's faking your handwriting."
"Oh, yes, that seems like the greatest thing to do," Sirius said sarcastically. "Hey, since it's so easy to copy someone's handwriting, d'you think Dumbledore will believe it if I wrote him a letter with Snape's handwriting, saying that he sadly drowned in the Lake?"
"No, because if he drowned, he wouldn't be able to write that letter," Remus said absentmindedly while he was looking for a quill, ink and parchment.
"Oh, right. Well, if I wrote he resigned because he couldn't stand being around all those pesky kids anymore?"
"Dumbledore might believe it for as long as it takes him to get down to the dungeons and check," Remus muttered, scribbling a reply to Kingsley.
"What're you writing?" Sirius wanted to know.
"A letter."
Sirius rolled his eyes but waited impatiently until Remus was finished. He folded the piece of parchment, walked outside and tied it to the paw of his owl. Sirius waited inside until Remus was back again, then he asked: "and?"
"I wrote him I'll meet him tomorrow, there's a small park near the Ministry that's perfect."
"I should've asked you what you put in that letter before you send it," Sirius groaned. "I suppose you expect me to come with you?"
"Of course. That'd be the ultimate proof I'm not making things up."
"Great," Sirius muttered darkly. "Just brilliant."
"C'mon, you'll be Padfoot, of course, and I'm sure Kingsley can be trusted," Remus said soothingly.
"I hope so, else it'll cost me my life."
"I'm sure it'll be alright," Remus said. Then, changing the subject to avoid a childish 'is', 'is not' argument: "hey, something completely different; could you mind putting your socks in the laundry basket instead of just on the floor? It's getting a terrible mess this way."
"Oh, okay," Sirius said. It seemed as if cleaning away dirty socks was a whole new concept to him.
"Thanks. And by the way, what're you planning to do with that old robe of you?"
"My uniform? No idea, actually." Sirius didn't wear it anymore; the day after he'd arrived at Remus' house, the two of them had gone shopping for clothes. Remus had been in quite a few strange situations, but he had to admit holding clothes up for the window of the store so that the big black dog outside could nod its head in approval was a new high – or low. Either way, he had noticed quite a few people looking oddly at him.
"We can't just throw it away, it'd be suspicious," Remus now said. "Especially since it has your name on it and all."
"Oh, wait! I tossed it somewhere in a corner here, because I was about to throw it away," Sirius suddenly remembered. He started looking around the kitchen. "But I can't find it."
"What?" Remus started looking as well. "But I didn't throw it away either." The two of them stared at one another. They were thinking the same thing: who took the uniform away?
"I'm sure I put it somewhere over here!" Sirius said. Without a word, Remus started walking around, scanning the floor and looking inside closets. Sirius watched his friend searching, cast a few hopeless looks around himself, then went to look in the living room just to give himself something to do.
Remus was about to climb on a chair and look on top of the closets on the wall, even though he didn't think he'd find it there, when Sirius called: "found it!" Relieved, Remus walked into the living room.
Sirius pointed under the sofa against the wall, near the fireplace. "Over here. But I think we'd better let it stay there."
Remus bent down to look and laughed when he realised what he saw. Propped against the wall was Sirius' uniform, frayed and all. Breadcrumbs and pecks of dust were carefully stored in a fold, and a round hole was made in the middle. Monster had made a nest of it.
"It's actually rather cute," Sirius commented, looking under the sofa as well.
"I knew he had a nest under here," Remus said, "because it's warm, next to the fireplace. But this surprises me as well."
"He must've dragged it all the way here."
"Yeah. Funny, he never made nests out of my clothes."
"But then you never throw clothes on the floor," Sirius said, straightening up again.
"That's true." Remus got up as well. "Like you said, we better leave it alone. We don't know what else to do with it anyway. Now, is there anything interesting in the Daily Prophet?"
"The Wigtown Wanderers lost to Puddlemere United," Sirius said as they walked into the kitchen. It was the begin of a long-winded discussion about Quidditch.

The next morning, when Remus woke up, he immediately noticed something strange. There was something lying on his back.
He had always liked to sleep on his stomach, his arms curled around his pillow, his legs outstretched so that his toes could just touch the foot end of the bed. It was something different, though, with something heavy on your back.
He raised his head, and saw what he actually already suspected confirmed: Sirius. His friend was soundly asleep, using Remus as a pillow, his head between Remus' shoulderblades. It was rather endearing, really.
Until it got annoying, that is. Fortunately, Remus thought sleepily, not awake enough to think things over one more time, I know just what to do. He tensed his muscles, then he jerked his shoulder upwards, whacking Sirius in the bony cheek.
"Kwuk," said Sirius.
His head jerked upwards and his eyes flew open. He started rubbing his jaw, cursing. It wasn't until a few moments later, when he was fully awake, that he started glaring at Remus.
"What'd you do that for?" he said.
"Because you were using my back as your pillow," Remus said. He sat upright.
"Gee, you could've just told me," Sirius huffed. He was still rubbing his painful jaw.
"Sorry," Remus apologised. He got out of bed and opened the doors of his wardrobe. "By the way, what are you going to wear today?"
Sirius stared. "Why?"
"Well, you're a murdering madman," Remus smiled. "You have to look representative."
"I thought I was a mad murderer?"
"Isn't that the same?"
"Well, no, actually," said Sirius. He sat up, gesturing enthusiastically. "You see, a mad murderer sounds more positive than a murdering madman."
Remus frowned. "How so?"
"Well, a murdering madman suggests someone who's mad all the time, but also murders, whereas a mad murderer sounds like somebody who murders, but is also off his rocker."
"If you say so. I still don't see the difference," Remus said. He threw a black shirt towards Sirius. "Which one would you like to be?"
"I think I want to be a mad murderer," Sirius said pensively. He picked up a pair of socks from the floor and got to his feet. "It sounds more… 'don't mess with me', if you catch my drift. Like, don't get on my wrong side, because I'm a murderer and I'm unhinged. Whereas murdering madman sounds like 'don't give me something sharp because I might kill somebody with it'. Mad murderer sounds more in control."
Remus had pulled up both his eyebrows. "Right. Euh, whatever. I'll, eh, be downstairs, making breakfast. Oh, and those socks – " he pointed, " – go in the laundry basket." He left the room.
Sirius dropped the socks on the floor and went to find some decent clothes to wear.

The park was fuller than it had been the last time Remus had been there, about a month ago. A few children were playing soccer on the grass, mysteriously always missing the robed woman sitting on the grass reading a book (the ball did have a habit of suddenly curving off if it rolled straight at her, though). Two boys were trying their miniature boat in the duck pond. Three old men were sitting on a bench opposite Remus', talking animatedly.
Remus was observing all this from a bench near the entrance of the park. There was nobody sitting next to him, even though the other benches were full – having a big black dog lying at your feet sometimes had its advantages.
Padfoot was lying still, happy with just looking at the other people. It had taken them quite some time to reach the park: Padfoot couldn't Apparate and Remus didn't trust a Portkey, so they had had to take the train. Then they got kicked out of the Underground because Remus had tried to take an unleashed dog on it, so they had had to walk all the way. Actually, dogs without a leash weren't allowed in this park either, and Padfoot didn't even have a collar. Both were hoping nobody would notice this.
Padfoot heard Remus say "ah!" and saw him get to his feet. He raised his head as well. Kingsley Shackebolt was leisurely walking across the park. He took the time to kick the ball, which had rolled on the pavement, back to the soccer-playing children, then looked at the boat sailing in the pond. If they hadn't know better, they'd say Kingsley was just enjoying a free afternoon.
"C'mon," Remus said, gesturing for Padfoot to get up as if he was just an ordinary dog.
Kingsley reached them. His face was expressionless, only a faint curiosity in his eyes as he looked at the black dog betrayed his feelings. Padfoot, still sitting on the ground, looked apprehensively back. He still wasn't so sure about this.
Remus greeted the Auror and they shook hands. "I hope it wasn't too difficult to get away from the Ministry," he said.
"Oh, no, not at all," Kingsley replied. "I just said I wanted to investigate a new clue as to Black's whereabouts." He smiled and Remus grinned as well, but Sirius didn't think it remotely funny – even though it was a joke he could've made himself.
"I think we'd better go somewhere else, we're drawing attention," Kingsley noted. Remus and Padfoot now saw that the witch on the grass was looking interestedly at them, ignoring the ball zooming just over her head. Kingsley had already seen her looking, of course. Being an Auror, noticing small things like this had become a second nature to him.
The three of them set off, Padfoot trotting on Remus' other side, careful not to get too close to Kingsley. Kingsley either didn't notice or didn't care – Sirius guessed the latter.
"I read the letter you send me a few weeks ago," the Auror began. "I'm sorry it took me such a long time to reply. As you might understand, I had to think it over a few times."
"Of course," Remus said. "That's okay."
"Your stories are consistent, and both are the same and agree with each other," Kingsley continued. Meanwhile, he smiled – as if he wasn't talking about an escaped convict – at a young woman with an enthusiastic toddler who went straight for the ducks. Remus had a harder time acting casually. He was constantly aware of the Animagus trotting on his left side, and when Kingsley had made his remark about the stories being the same, he nearly blurted out: "well, what did you expect? Two different stories?"
"However," Kingsley said carefully, "some parts were… quite unbelievable. The fact that Wormtail, as you call him, has been living as a rat for twelve years without revealing himself."
"We never got that either," Remus said. Padfoot shook his head: he had got it only too well. Peter was simply too big a coward to risk being caught. And especially after more and more years passed, it was getting more difficult to suddenly come back. Not after his heroic death.
Kingsley had seen Padfoot shake his head. "He doesn't agree with you," he said. It started both Remus and Padfoot.
"What?" Remus said, alarmed, then he saw Kingsley looking at the dog. "Oh. He often doesn't agree with me, it's nothing new."
"Perhaps it'd pay to hear what he has to say?" the Auror suggested. Remus frowned.
"I hope not right here?"
"No, there's a narrow street over there which is usually deserted at this time of the day," Kingsley said and pointed.
Remus looked at Sirius. The Animagus was shaking his head again. Bad idea, this gesture clearly said. Remus decided to ignore this.
"Come, Padfoot."
The two humans set off, a reluctant black dog on their heels. Padfoot was mentally going over the things he would say to Remus, the names he would call his friend, once he had a human mouth again.
They reached the street without incident. It was indeed empty, as Kingsley had said, safe for a line of parked cars.
"Is there a porch somewhere, where we can hide?" Remus asked. Kingsley pointed to one, not too far away, and they walked towards it. Remus had to nudge Padfoot to step into the shadows.
"I know you hate me for this," he said. Padfoot's glare told him this was only too true. "It's all for the best, really." Kingsley was watching interestedly, occasionally glancing along the street to see if nobody was coming.
Padfoot gave Remus one more severe glare, then, sighing, crept as far back into the shadows as he could and changed back into Sirius.
He noticed with a satisfied grin that Kingsley lost his balance for a second, as if he wanted to jump back but restrained himself at the last moment.
"Yes, it really is me," Sirius said grimly.
"Not so loud," hissed Remus. Hearing his friend's voice reminded Sirius of something else. He turned to Remus.
"Oh, right," he said. "Remus, you are the most stupid, reckless, unthoughtful idiot I've ever encountered – and that includes myself – and if this insane action of yours puts me behind bars again, I'll escape again and murder you. This time for real."
"So, you admit it then," Kingsley cut in before Remus could answer.
"Well, yeah, of course," Sirius said lightly. "No point in denying, is there? Everybody knows I escaped from Azkaban. But – " he continued pointedly "– I didn't commit those murders, if that's what you mean."
Remus was standing nervously next to his friend. He didn't want Sirius to ruin it, but all he could do was keep quiet. Sirius wasn't helped with constant interruptions.
Kingsley was observing Sirius. His expression was rather curious than suspicious. He finally broke the silence: "what spell did Pettigrew use to blow up the street?"
"Expelliarmus," answered Sirius at once. "If you aim Expelliarmus at the pavement, it blows up the street, if it's powerful enough. It was."
There followed a long questioning. Kingsley fired quick questions at Sirius, who answered them matter-of-factly. Kingsley jumped from subject to subject, trying to catch Sirius off-guard, but he didn't fall for it. He also dodged the few trick-questions and the curveballs Kingsley threw him. Ten minutes into the questioning, Remus noticed both Kingsley and Sirius were smiling, grinning even.
Intellectually, they were an even match. Sirius knew he was innocent, that he just had to prove that, and Kingsley tried his very best to get him to say otherwise. Both were trying to outsmart the other, and they enjoyed it immensely.
After a few questions, Kingsley had already realised Sirius couldn't have done it. He answered too quickly, too confidently, to be lying. But he kept asking on, curious as to how far he could press it. It wasn't until Sirius started pointing out that he'd begun repeating questions that they stopped.
"You should've asked a questioning under Veritaserum," he commented, finally relaxing.
Sirius leaned against the wall, arms crossed in front of his chest. He scowled. "No need for the very expensive Veritaserum when you've got over a dozen witnesses saying you're the murderer."
"And you didn't even get a trial," Remus pointed out.
"True," Sirius said sourly. "Thanks for reminding me."
Kingsley was pensively staring at a spot on the wall. There was silence for a short time, then he said: "I'm trying to decide what to do now."
"As long as it doesn't include an immediate run to the Ministry, to tell them you've found me – "Sirius began, but Kingsley silenced him with a gesture of his hand.
"No, not that. But I'm not sure what else. I can't exactly go there, tell them I've found you and that I'm convinced you're innocent either. They'd listen just long enough to hear where you are, and then they'd shove me aside and tell me I'm getting too old for my job."
"You could at least begin with telling them that you've found out that Sirius is anywhere but in England," Remus said. "I'll be willing to play the one who gave you that clue, if it must."
"Tell them I went to, uh, Thailand," Sirius added. "I've always wanted to go there."
You must have had a long time to think about this," Kingsley said.
"No, we're just making this up as we go," Sirius replied lightly.
Remus rolled his eyes. "Yes, we have had a long time to think about this."
"Okay, I'll pretend I know where you are, except that I'm wrong," Kingsley said. "Anything else?"
Remus and Sirius looked at one another. "I can't think of anything at the moment," Remus said.
"Me neither," Sirius agreed.
"Then I'd better get back to the Ministry and start faking," said Kingsley. "Thailand, right?"
"Yeah. And make it Tibet after that. I'm gonna climb mountains."
The Auror and the convict shook hands. "I'll try and find out when I can tell you're innocent as soon as possible," Kingsley said. "Which shouldn't take that long, I suppose. As soon as these rumours about You-Know-Who have died out, I think."
"Right," Sirius laughed uncomfortably.
Kingsley said goodbye to Remus as well, promised them he'd keep in touch, then he walked away, to the Ministry of Magic. Remus and Sirius hid in the shadows a little longer.
"D'you think we should've told him about the Order and Voldemort?" Sirius asked.
"Maybe later," said Remus. "He's had enough to deal with now as it is anyway. I mean, he's just talked to a murdering madman."
"Mad murderer."
"Whatever. I'm already happy that he believes you're innocent. That's one burden off our shoulders."
"What're we going to do now?" was Sirius' next question.
Remus checked his watch. "I think we got an hour or so before we need to get back to the train station," he said.
"Your fault for living in the middle of nowhere."
"Hush. It's perfect for escaped convicts and Hippogriffs, so don't complain." Remus looked up and down the deserted street. "How about we go back to that park and spend the rest of the time there?"
"Sounds fine with me." Sirius changed back into Padfoot, and the two of them trotted down the street to the park, to spend an hour sunbathing on the grass.

Remus yawned as he unlocked the door. The hour he had spend relaxing in the warm sun had made him sleepy, and he had some difficulty just to keep his eyes open or think straight. Sirius was tired too, but not because he had been sunbathing. Quite the contrary: Padfoot had been playing soccer.
The children had still been playing when they returned to the park. Remus had sat down on the grass, Padfoot next to him, and it hadn't been before long that the dog had wandered off to the children to play with the ball, which had greatly amused them. Padfoot didn't know the rules to soccer, but dogs weren't supposed to, and he had happily spend the rest of the hour pushing the ball in the wrong goal, or simply just running after it. It had been a while since he'd last stretched his legs like that, and he had been exhausted – but in a good way. Afterwards, Remus had had to sprinkle water from the pond over him to cool him down.
"I could kill for something cool to drink," Sirius now muttered.
"Give me five minutes and you won't have to kill," Remus replied. He opened the door and they got in. They went straight for the kitchen, when suddenly –
"Remus?"
Both froze. Sirius was staring round-eyed at Remus, who stared back. "My mother," he muttered. "Quick, Padfoot!" Sirius changed just in time; the door to the kitchen opened and Mrs Lupin appeared, drying her hands with a towel. She smiled when she saw her son.
"Mum, what are you doing here?" Remus blurted out. It wasn't perhaps the most polite thing to say, but it was the first thing that he could think of.
"I was visiting grandma Lupin, and decided that, seeing as how near I was to you, I thought I'd visit you as well," she said. "I let myself in, because you weren't home."
"I was in London," he said. He mentally added: note to self: don't give your parents a key to your house.
"Remus, I didn't know you had a dog," his mother added, seeing Padfoot.
"No, you wouldn't, because I've only had him for a week or so," Remus said. He was still recovering from the shock. He didn't dare think of what would have happened had his mother seen Sirius. She'd probably scream first, he thought, then she'd probably try to strangle him for all he's supposed to have done.
Padfoot let himself be petted by Mrs Lupin, then he trotted into the kitchen, his tail wagging.
"Uh, yeah, we were actually going to get a drink," Remus said, scratching his head.
"Of course, don't mind me," his mother said. Frowning a little (had he just asked permission to take something to drink in his own house?) he walked into the kitchen, his mother on his heels. Padfoot was lying on the cool tiles on the floor, but got up when he saw them come in.
Remus poured himself cold orange juice and put a bowl of water on the floor for Padfoot. They drunk eagerly. Mrs Lupin had sat herself down on a chair at the table and looked at them drink.
It wasn't until he had drunk more than half of the glass that Remus stopped. He sighed. "I needed that," he said. He sat down as well. "Sorry for the rude welcome earlier," he said. "You started me."
"That's okay," she said. "Perhaps I should have warned you." She laid the towel on the table. Remus now noticed that the cups and plates they had used this morning were gone.
"Did you do the dishes?" he said, blinking.
"Well, yes. I decided I'd just as well make myself useful," she smiled.
"Oh mum, you shouldn't have," Remus said, smiling nonetheless. "I can do them myself you know. Really."
"Oh, that's a surprise," she said teasingly. "I must admit that I actually sorted out your laundry as well, and I tried to sweep the floor but your Puffskein kept getting in the way."
"He likes sitting in front of the broom and being swept across the floor," Remus explained. "And you really shouldn't have bothered. I'm thirty-five, I can take care of myself!" His mother smiled but said nothing, as if she knew better but didn't want to make him feel bad.
Remus looked over his shoulder to see what Padfoot was doing. The black dog was lying on the tiled floor. He seemed to ignore the two humans at the table completely.
"You know, Remus," Mrs Lupin said suddenly. "I – I found something strange in your room."
Remus turned abruptly back. His mother was fidgeting with the towel. Behind him, out of sight, Padfoot raised his head interestedly.
"What?" Remus said.
"You see," his mother continued carefully, "when I was sorting out your laundry, I noticed… there were two pairs of pyjama's."
Oh no, Remus and Padfoot both thought.
"And there was a pair of socks on the floor I'm sure weren't yours."
Remus glared at Padfoot. I told you to clean them up, he telepathically tried to say. Now we're in trouble.
" – and I later noticed there were two plates and two cups in the sink," Mrs Lupin continued. "Remus, if there's anything… anything you'd like to tell me…"
"What?" Remus repeated, confused.
"The point is," his mother said, shyly but determinedly, "are you living with another man?"
Silence.
Remus stared.
"Because if you are," Mrs Lupin ploughed on, "you shouldn't be ashamed. Your father and I would understand. And I've read about this, and there's nothing to be ashamed of, really. It's the nineteen-nineties after all."
Padfoot snorted loudly, the dog's version of a hysterical laugh. This jerked Remus back to earth as well. He opened his mouth a few times, trying to say something, then his body remembered where his voice was, and he said: "wait a minute." He closed his mouth again.
His mother was watching him nervously. It had been a shot in the dark, but it would explain a lot to her – for example why Remus had never had a girlfriend (that she knew of anyway).
"Are you thinking I'm gay?" Remus asked finally. To his horror, his mother nodded.
This was too much for Padfoot. He had got to his paws to see what was going on, but when he saw Mrs Lupin nod he collapsed in a fit of doggish giggles.
Remus didn't know what to say. This was arguably one of the most embarrassing situations he had ever been in. Padfoot didn't really help either. He decided to get rid of that first.
"Padfoot, get out," he said. It took him some effort and a few prods with his foot to get the dog over the threshold and into the garden, where it sat down, still grinning.
"You know, it almost seemed as if that dog was laughing," Remus' mother commented.
"He's too smart for his own good," Remus said gruffly. Then he remembered what was going on: "muhum!"
"What, dearest?" she said, slightly taken aback by this sudden, rather childish, exclamation.
"First of all, don't call me dearest," he said, "and secondly, I'm not gay."
"I can call you dearest all I like, because you're my dearest eldest son – "
"Your only eldest son, you mean."
" – and, well, I thought, since I saw two sets of clothes, and you've – sorry that I'm talking about this – you've never had a girlfriend…"
"But I have!"
"Really?" she said, a bit surprised, much to Remus' annoyance. "When?"
"A couple of months ago."
"But why have you never introduced her to us?"
Remus snorted. Oh yeah, he could just see it, his parents and Lova. He had this feeling his parents wouldn't like Lova's rather… bohemian lifestyle. "Because we broke up after a month or two. It didn't work out."
"Oh, Remus," she said pityingly. "I'm sorry."
"That's okay," he said. Then, simply to get the subject out of the way once and for all: "and there was this girl, a few years ago, when I went to Scotland. But that didn't work out either."
"Poor dear," his mother said. She hugged him warmly, feeling immensely sorry for him.
"Uh, thanks," he said. He allowed himself to be hugged for a few moments, then he said: "now do you believe I'm not attracted to men?"
"Yes," she said. "I'm sorry I thought that."
"No, it's fine, I'd have thought it myself too." They both smiled, Mrs Lupin utterly relieved that her son wasn't completely 'abnormal'.
"But that still doesn't explain why there were two pyjama's," she said suddenly.
"Err… can I get back to that later?" he said. "It's… a little too complicated to explain right now."
"It's not anything dangerous or illegal, is it?" she said suspiciously. Remus forced himself to laugh.
"No, of course not!" he lied. It satisfied his mother, however.
"Good. I was worried for a moment."
"When are you not worried about me?" he smiled. She laughed as well.
"That's true," she said.

Mrs Lupin stayed another half hour, in which she brought Remus up-to-date with the latest family-news, then she left. Remus immediately made for the garden. Padfoot was nosing around in the bushes but emerged when he saw Remus approach.
"She's gone," Remus told his friend rather grumpily. Padfoot didn't waste time but changed directly into Sirius.
"That was the most humiliating moment of my life," Remus complained before Sirius had a chance to speak. He shouldn't have said anything, however: the mere mention of the incident made Sirius burst into a hysterical laughter again. Remus waited until it had subsided, then he said sourly: "and of course you were thoroughly amused."
"Of course," Sirius hiccoughed. "What did you tell her anyway?"
"What do you think? No, wait, don't answer that, I don't want to know what you think."
"I mean," Sirius said, wiping away tears, "this is the kind of embarrassment you only read about." Sirius laughed again. By now, it was getting infectious, and Remus couldn't help grinning a little himself.
"But seriously," Sirius continued, then he had to pause to laugh again. "Sorry. What did you tell her?"
"First of all that I'm not gay," Remus said. Sirius couldn't help it; he burst into laughing again. He held on to Remus for support, who was now laughing as well, although not as hysterically as Sirius.
"Secondly," he said, "I didn't explain why there were two sets of everything, because I couldn't think of a convincing enough reason, and I couldn't say I was living with you either."
"No, I suppose not," said Sirius breathlessly. His shoulders still shook with laughter. "Ah, what a day, what a day." He let out a giggle. "Sorry. Hey, if I ever see your mum again, remind me to thank her for this wonderfully amusing afternoon."
And as he burst into laughing again, Remus felt very grateful as well. Grateful simply for the sun on his face, the scent of the garden, and Sirius laughing.

The end.