"...Why wouldn't you come with me, Padfoot?" Remus asked curiously. Sirius shook his head.

"It's not that I didn't want to, Moony. You can't imagine how awful I felt, knowing how much pain I'd caused you and Harry. But it's the physics of the Veil – only a person who goes through the Veil by choice can leave. Anyone who is forced through against their will is stuck. I suppose the logic is that nobody goes through by choice." Sirius gave Remus a very concerned look. "Unless, of course, the person in question is a very desperate man..."

Remus looked guiltily at his feet. It was still late at night, and the two had promptly left the Ministry, having apparated to a remote location near Hogwarts, in the Scottish highlands. They were walking side by side up an old muggle path through the woods.

Remus avoided his friend's unasked question. "So, if a person chooses to go in, they can choose to leave...and they can bring others out who don't have the same choice?"

Sirius gave Remus a sideways glance. "Only if they came to be there by falling through the Veil, and you're avoiding my question."

"You didn't ask a question, Padfoot," Remus said stubbornly, avoiding Sirius' gaze.

Sirius stopped walking and turned to face the werewolf. Remus kept his head down, but Sirius put his hands on his shoulders and forced his head up.

"Moony," he whispered. Remus tried to pull away, but Sirius held tight. His eyes were pleading. "You were really willing to...to risk it all..." Sirius stumbled over his words. "You would take your own life?..."

Remus finally pushed away, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. He hugged himself tight and slid to the ground, leaning against a tree. Sirius knelt in front of him.

"I'm sorry," Remus sobbed, hugging his knees towards him and burying his face in them. Sirius leaned forward and wrapped his arms around his oldest friend.

"Shh, it's okay, Remus," Sirius murmured, rubbing his hand over Remus' back as the smaller man cried into his shoulder.

"It was just too much," Remus whispered, pulling back and wiping away his tears with his sleeve. "Lily and James...and then thinking you'd betrayed them. And Peter," Remus looked like he would kill Wormtail if he was there just then. "And knowing that Dumbledore had sent Harry to live with those muggles..." Remus looked desperately at Sirius. "I was alone for so long, Padfoot. And I only just got you back!"

"But Moony," Sirius whispered gently, "what about Harry?"

Remus laughed bitterly. "He and I were...close, I suppose, the year I was teaching. But we never had the relationship that you and he had."

Sirius was at a loss for words. "Remus, I never realized-"

"No," Remus said, cutting him off. "It isn't your fault, Padfoot. It's merely a fact, something else I have no control over." Remus sucked in a deep, calming breath. "But the Veil was something – for me – that was totally in my control..." Remus trailed off. The two friends sat in companionable silence for quite a while. Remus once again entangled himself in his friend's arms, and the two fell into a calm, safe slumber up against the tree.

"Have you found him yet, Albus?" asked Arthur Weasley worriedly, back at number 12 Grimmauld Place. They had spent the entire night trying to locate Remus Lupin, especially after the display he put on for the Order the night before.

The old Headmaster shook his head gravely. "I'm still not sure what he meant when he said he'd bring Sirius back." Dumbledore sat at the kitchen table, sighing and removing his glasses. "And I'm still quite concerned as to the nature of the cut on Remus' arm."

There was an uncomfortable silence, for everyone knew what it was Dumbledore feared – that the wound was self inflicted. They still had absolutely no leads, and the more hours that passed, the colder the trail became.

"This may be a stupid question," said Ron Weasley from the kitchen counter, "but why is it we're not just performing a locating spell?"

Dumbledore smiled at his student, eyes twinkling. Ron blushed. "Ordinarily, Ronald, it would be a valid suggestion. However, all Order members are put under a dislocation spell, for their protection, as well as the protection of the Order."

"Oh," said Ron, looking at his feet. "I didn't know that."

"That's quite alright," muttered Dumbledore distractedly. Ron looked as thought there was something else he wished to ask, but he seemed hesitant to ask it. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Is there something else, Ronald?"

Ron remained staring at his toes with interest. "Well, sir, I was just wondering-"

"Ron, stop pestering the Headmaster!" scolded Molly Weasley, bursting into the kitchen. "He's got enough to concern him without you bothering him!"

"I wasn't pestering him, Mum!" Ron cried indignantly, crossing his arms and fuming. "I was just wondering if anyone had the decency to inform Harry that Professor Lupin is missing! Or, if like last year, you've as good as forgotten him at those horrible muggle's house!"

There was an incredibly awkward silence, in which Dumbledore looked wearier than ever, Molly looked appalled by her son's behavior, Arthur tried to avoid his wife's gaze, and Ron continued to look furious.

"RON WEASLEY!" screeched his mother, stomping towards him, looking angry enough to pop. "WHERE ON EARTH DO YOU GET OFF SPEAKING TO PROFESSOR DUMBL-"

"It's alright, Molly," Dumbledore said calmly, placing his hand on the woman's shoulder. "Your son is absolutely right."

Molly Weasley's mouth fell open, and she was only able to stare blankly at Dumbledore. Ron looked about as confused as it was possible for someone to look.

"...I am?" he asked, baffled.

The Headmaster nodded. "Indeed you are, young man. You see, the strict isolation that I put on Harry last year was, in part, responsible for his altercation with the Dementors last summer. We cannot risk leaving Harry in the dark again. In fact, I believe it would be best if you were the one to inform Harry of the situation."

Ron was shocked, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure of what to say. Finally, he put on his best resolved face, and nodded.

"Or course, sir. I'll do my best to be...to be..." Ron stumbled over his sentence, confused.

"Tactful?" Dumbledore supplied. Ron smiled at the old man.

"Yes – tactful!" And with that, Ron turned and headed upstairs to send Pigwidgeon off to Harry.