AN: Yes, I know I wrote this fic having in mind Sirius being alive. So what? Just consider this a picture of what may have been, if it weren't for J.K. Rowling having killed off Sirius. Other than that, enjoy.

Summary: When Lupin is attacked by the Howling, a group of very radical werewolves demanding more rights for their kind, for siding with "the enemy", Sirius and the other members of the Order, alongside with the help of the Gryffindors and a very interested Luna, have to teach him how to fight, in case something like this happens again.

Harry sighed. It was summer once again, and once again, Professor Snape, his least favorite teacher had given him homework, both difficult in quantity and quality. But he knew he had to deal with it, if he wanted to get the job he spoke of at his career advice session. Besides, he was curious to see if McGonagall was as willing to help him achieve that goal as she said she was.

Looking over the paper that Snape had assigned, 'Truth Potions and Their Use by Aurors', Harry decided he needed a break. The Dursleys had gone out to dinner with the Masons. Apparently, after Harry had escaped with the Weasleys in the summer before his second year, his Uncle Vernon had managed to convince Mr. Mason not to judge him by Harry's supposed lunacy; a fact that his Uncle didn't waste on not bragging to him.

Harry sighed. He was bored. Muggles or not, at least the Dursleys' various antics kept things entertaining, though he didn't say it out loud. The essay was finished anyway, and he knew Snape would at least try to fail him at the very least, no matter how good it was.

Though he didn't think it was possible, Snape's loathing of him had increased twice; the first being when he had helped Sirius escape under his very nose, and the other when Harry had delved too far into his teacher's memory. Though, to be fair, he hadn't really come away from that experience all grins and giggles, either.

As Harry rolled up the parchment, he considered his options:

Option One: Call Ron. This, of course, was killed by two things: A) He didn't know if the Weasleys had a phone or not, and if they did, B) Ron had very little clue on how to use a telephone. Damn.

Option Two: Call Hermione. Hermione did know how to use a phone better than Ron, but there was the fact that Harry didn't have her phone number. Double damn.

Of course, he could've used Hedwig to contact them, but it would've taken too long for the reply to come. Then the answer hit him: Sirius.

Last year, he had received a special two-way mirror that would allow him to talk with Sirius whenever he needed to, so as not to risk the chances of being found out. You see, Sirius, while being his godfather, was also convicted of a crime he didn't commit. Harry himself had come face to face with the real murderer, Peter Pettigrew (ironically still alive), in his third year, clearing Sirius' name to himself, Ron, Hermione, and Dumbledore, if not to anyone else.

After helping Sirius escape alongside Buckbeak, a convicted hippogriff, Sirius continued to assist Harry as much as he could in his circumstances.

Picking up the mirror, Harry enunciated clearly "Sirius Black." There was nothing on the other end except a view of the room. "Sirius?", Harry asked, trying to be loud enough so he could be heard on the other end, but trying not to be too loud. It would be a fine thing to explain to the neighbors why he was shouting into a mirror.

From the other end came the sounds of someone rushing towards the place where the mirror was set, and a call of "Be right back" from a voice Harry gratefully recognized as Sirius's.

Sirius's tired face appeared on the other end. "Harry?"

"Hey, Sirius."

Sirius turned to look at something on his end of the mirrors and called "Guys, it's Harry!" Suddenly, a hideous scream of pain emanated from the next room.

"What's going on in there, Sirius?", Harry asked nervously.

"Oh, that. Well, you know how Mundungus Fletcher said he was going to be bringing something 'important' here the last time we met?"

"Yeah", Harry said uneasily. "Well?"

"Well, the thing is, he managed to get a hold of some experimental Wit-Sharpening Potion from someone who said it was stolen from the Ministry's. Anyway he managed to get it to the Order, and had it in the doorway when…"

"When what?", Harry asked.

"When Kreacher happened to be right in his way. Of course, he couldn't see the elf since he was carrying the potion himself, so…"

"He tripped?"

"Right in one. And the potion ended up spilling all over the floor. Thankfully, it only spilled onto one person."

"Who?"

Suddenly, a wolf appeared next to Sirius. "No", Harry thought. "Probably Professor Lupin." He had checked, double-checked, and triple-checkd the calendar, and tonight was part of the full moon period.

The wolf-Lupin grinned (as well as a wolf could, anyway), and yipped "Hello."

Harry did a double take. "Let me guess: The potion spilled on Lupin while in his werewolf form?"

"Right in one."

"Anyway", Harry said, "you were explaining the screaming?"

Suddenly, a voice shouted "Electio!", followed by a cry of "OUCH! THE BURNING!"

"Let me guess: someone caught him?"

"Yep. Ironically, said person happened to be Snape, and he's in a pretty bad mood right about now."

"Snape?"

"Yep. Don't worry about Dung, though. It's just a Static charm, thankfully. Unfortunately, stuff will be clinging to him for awhile. Anyway, we're going to send someone to get you tomorrow, if it's okay with you."

"Don't worry, I'm thankful." He went on to tell Sirius about Uncle Vernon's business deal. He wasn't sure if Sirius understood the technical terms, but he definitely got the idea.

"Eeesh. Sounds like Snape on one of his good days. Anyway, Molly's coming over here to help out, so I have to go."

"Bye."

"See you tomorrow."

Sirius's disappeared from the mirror, and Harry put it away, feeling infinitively better than it was in the first place.

To Be Continued...