Lies

By Neurotica

Twenty-Three

Two days before Harry's Occlumency lessons would begin, Remus opened his eyes groggily as the sun began to sneak through the curtains above his bed. He could hear Sirius and Harry moving around outside his door, but couldn't bring himself to extricate his body from the warm comfort of his bed.

Last night had been yet another late one for the wizard. He and Tonks had taken their shift guarding the Department of Mysteries. While they had been granted permission by the Minister for Magic herself, Dumbledore and Moody had still insisted they stay under Invisibility Cloaks. Thankfully, the night was quite uneventful; Remus didn't know if he could handle another duel so close to the full moon.

At long last, Remus pushed his covers away from his body and got out of bed. He stretched his back and groaned as a sharp pain shot from his leg to his stiff neck. I need a vacation, he thought, digging through his dresser for a decent looking pair of jeans. If I keep going like this, I'm going to be dead by forty. He winced at the thought of turning forty and went to the bathroom to clean up before joining Sirius and Harry for a Saturday morning breakfast.

Down in the basement kitchen, he poured himself the traditional cup of coffee and sat across from Harry as Sirius placed a plate of pancakes, eggs, bacon, and toast before Remus. Sirius picked up his own plate and sat between the other two.

"All right, Moony?" Sirius asked concernedly, pouring syrup all over his food.

"Fine," Remus muttered, picking up his fork and starting on his own breakfast. "Just really tired and sore."

"Sounds like you're getting old, Remus." Sirius smirked.

"You're older than I am, Sirius," Remus said flatly, sipping his coffee.

Sirius shrugged. "Only by a few months. Besides, you don't see me looking like the walking dead." He grinned. "Oh and by the way, Molly and Arthur are coming over tonight."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Molly said something about us needing a good home-cooked meal. She seems to think you and Harry are too thin," Sirius said with another shrug. "And I wasn't going to argue with free food."

"Is Ron coming too?" Harry asked thickly through his eggs.

"Think so," Sirius said. "And I've told you before, don't talk with your mouth full," he added with a wink.

Harry rolled his eyes and swallowed his food. "Can Hermione come over?"

"Fine by me," Sirius said. "Okay by you, Moony?" He turned to his friend and found him asleep, his head held up by his hand. Sirius raised an eyebrow and poked Remus' shoulder. "Moony," he said. "Wakey, wakey. You going to eat this? No? Right, thanks." Sirius reached over the table and stole Remus' bacon.

As he chewed, looking away from the sleeping werewolf, a hand hit Sirius hard in the back of his head and stole his toast. "Teach you not to eat my breakfast," Remus muttered, buttering Sirius' toast.

"I thought you were asleep!" Sirius said, rubbing his head.

"You think too much; that's your problem," Remus said casually, grinning at Harry.

"He's right, you know," Harry said.

"What is this? 'Gang up on the Auror day'?" Sirius asked in mock outrage.

"No, it's 'Gang up on the long-haired hippie day.' Get it right," Remus countered, taking Sirius' last piece of bacon.

"I'm not a long-haired hippie, thank you very much. And I don't have to take this abuse," Sirius said, standing. "There're other people who actually appreciate my company."

"Name one," Harry challenged.

"Kingsley," Sirius said promptly.

"He can't stand you. He only puts up with your crap because you're his boss," Remus said.

"I see how it is," Sirius said, nodding. "Fine, then. I'll be upstairs when you two ungrateful prats feel like apologizing." He turned on his heel and headed up the stairs. He could hear the laughter of his family until he reached the second landing.


"So this is where Sirius grew up, huh?" Ron said, looking around the drawing room later that night.

"Yep," Harry answered. "My room is actually his old room. He can't stand to be in there longer than fifteen minutes."

"Didn't Sirius have a brother?" Hermione asked, examining an old Black family photograph that had somehow escaped Sirius' purge of family artifacts.

"Yeah, but I wouldn't mention that to Sirius. Regulus is sort of a sore spot. According to Sirius, the only brothers he ever had were my dad and Remus."

"Still, it must have been interesting, growing up here. Even though the majority of the family turned out to be Death Eaters, there's still a lot of history here," Hermione said, her eyes glowing like they always did when she found something truly remarkable by her high standards.

"I can assure you, Hermione, it wasn't all that great," Sirius said flatly from the door. The trio started and turned. "Molly sent me up to tell you dinner will be on the table in five minutes. Go wash up."

Ron and Hermione left the room, but Sirius held his godson back. "Just so you know, Remus noticed a few books missing from the library today. I don't think he's realized which books just yet, but for your sake, get them back there soon," he said quietly.

Rather than act innocent in front of the man who had practically invented the innocent look, Harry nodded. Sirius grinned, winked, and headed back to the kitchen.


Molly had prepared a large roast beef dinner with so many side dishes, the table literally groaned under the weight of it all. "Does it do that often?" Ron asked, eyeing the table warily.

"Sometimes," Sirius said nonchalantly. "As far as I know it's safe, though."

Hesitantly, Ron sat between Harry and Remus and began to fill his plate. Ginny had gone to Luna Lovegood's house for the night while Fred and George remained at home with Charlie and Percy.

During dinner, Arthur began telling them about a report he'd gotten on a Muggle motorbike that had been charmed to buck off any rider but the owner. A Muggle thief had tried to steal the bike and was sent to St. Mungo's for serious injuries and memory modification.

"It worked, though," Ron said thickly through his mashed potatoes. "I mean, the bloke didn't get his bike stolen."

"Well, yes, but that's not the point. That Muggle could have died," Arthur said.

"Would have served him right," Sirius said. "If someone would have tried to steal my motorcycle, I'd have killed them myself."

"You have a motorcycle?" Hermione asked interestedly.

"Had," Sirius emphasized the word. "I loaned it to Hagrid on the night..." he trailed off, looking quite uncomfortable and a bit confused. "Well, I loaned it to Hagrid a while back, and I never saw it again," he added hastily, finding his green beans very interesting.

"It was a nice motorbike, too," Remus said, trying to get the attention off of Sirius. "Lily was never too fond of it. But I suppose that was because Sirius took Harry out for a fly on it when he was six months old."

Everybody but Molly laughed at the image, or in some cases, the memory. "For a fly?" she said, glaring slightly at Sirius. "You took a six-month-old for a fly? Are you mad?"

"Yes," Remus and Harry said in unison.

"He was safe," Sirius said defensively. "I never would have let anything happen to him."

Molly pursed her lips tightly rather than start an argument on being responsible with Sirius.


Once dinner and dessert were finished, Remus assisted Molly with the dishes while Harry and his friends went upstairs. Harry closed his bedroom door and showed Hermione and Ron the books he'd found in the Black library on Animagus transformations. Hermione was quite pleased with the information even though she had opted out of becoming an Animagus herself. She thought it better to wait until after graduation from Hogwarts so that she could do it legally.

Ron, who was looking around the room, began to chuckle. "What?" Harry asked while Hermione read up on the next step of the transformation process.

"What... is this?" Ron asked, holding up an old stuffed animal.

"Hey! I've been looking for that!" Harry said in childish excitement, jumping off his bed and snatching the stuffed stag from Ron's grip.

Ron raised an eyebrow as Harry smiled fondly at the toy. "Care to explain?" he asked cautiously.

Hermione looked away from her book. "Prongs, right?" she said with a smirk.

"Yeah. Remus gave it to me when I was six. I never went anywhere without it. But I lost it the year before I started Hogwarts," Harry explained.

"Okay," Ron said slowly.

"Wonder how it got here..." Harry muttered.

"Hey, maybe you'll be a stag like your dad, Harry," Ron said.

"That'd be cool. But Sirius already gets too excited when I do something like my dad, and I don't even want to imagine what turning into a stag in front of him would do," Harry said, grimacing slightly at the idea. "Besides, I want something original."

"Like a giraffe?" Hermione asked innocently.

Harry thought for a moment and shook his head. "Nah, too tall. I was thinking something smaller, like a frog or something," he mused.

"We could call you Hopper." Ron grinned.

"And I could hurt you." Harry grinned back.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Are we going to work on this tonight or not?"

"Right, sorry," Harry said, pushing Ron off the bed.

"Ow! Git!" Ron cried, finding a chair to sit in.

Harry and Hermione chuckled. "So the first thing you need to do is this: close your eyes and imagine a place you feel most comfortable," Hermione said in a soft tone.

Both boys did as they were told. Harry felt himself relax as he imagined himself in the cottage. He could feel Sirius and Remus on either side of him, though he didn't look to see if they were really there. He took a deep breath and felt himself begin to sink into the carpet. Or maybe he was shrinking...

"Bloody hell, Harry!" Ron yelled.

"Ron, shh!" Hermione said. "Wow," she added, astounded. "You did it, Harry."


Sirius passed a bottle of wine to Remus and listened as Molly told them what Dumbledore wanted to discuss with them. Apparently, the Order's leader was interested in recruiting the older Weasley children (namely Bill and Charlie) into their ranks. Molly had been against is at first, but when Remus began to explain the need for foreign wizards, her motherly resolve faded, just a bit.

"How are you coming along with the werewolves, Remus?" Arthur asked.

"Not too well," Remus answered honestly. "Those that I managed to convince to remain neutral are starting to lean over to Voldemort's—" Arthur choked slightly on his wine. Molly patted him on the back. "—ranks. I may have to make another trip to speak with them again."

"Are you sure that's wise, dear?" Molly asked in her motherly tone. "Werewolves can be quite dangerous in the wild."

Remus held back the urge to raise his eyebrows at the obvious statement. "If anyone can handle it," Sirius said, "it's my Moony."

Remus chuckled as Sirius slapped him on the back. "Thanks, Sirius... I think," he said. "And Molly, I'll be fine."


The Weasleys Flooed home an hour later, and neither Sirius nor Remus failed to see the grin and wink Ron and Harry exchanged before they left. Hermione took a portkey in the form of an old teacup back to her own home just after the Weasleys left.

"You look excited about something," Remus commented to Harry.

"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. Ron found my stuffed stag," Harry lied obviously. "I was, you know, happy to see it again." Not long after, he made the excuse that he was tired and went to bed.

"What's he up to?" Remus wondered aloud.


Harry quickly gathered all the books he'd borrowed from the Black library and put them all back in their proper places. He couldn't stop grinning at the memory of his first transformation. It had taken the Marauders three years, but in less than two, Harry had done it.

He made his way back to his bedroom just before Sirius and Remus came up the stairs to their own rooms. He waited for his guardians to come in and say good night while he pretended to pick his room up a bit. Both wizards raised an eyebrow at the sight; Harry never cleaned his room unless one of them told him to do so.

Concentrating hard, Harry felt himself shrink again. He tried to grin in success, but his mouth wouldn't form correctly. He cautiously tried out his new thin legs by walking across his bedspread. He would have to get used to the weak feeling of them. Harry moved his arms up and down in front of his wardrobe mirror and mentally smiled at his completely round form.

Damn, he thought as he spotted the black feather on his golden back in the shape of a lightning bolt. His green eyes now shone more brightly than ever. White feathers around the glistening orbs marked where his glasses would be.

All in all, Harry was quite pleased with his Animagus form, and he couldn't wait to try out his wings. Now, however, he would need to sleep; it would not do to have Sirius and Remus wondering why he was so exhausted the next morning.


Sirius walked through the house one last time to be sure everything was normal. Being an Auror trained by Alastor Moody gave him a sense of paranoia that the majority of the Aurors didn't have. The paranoia was nowhere near the level of Mad-Eye's, but he still patrolled the house, wand at his side, ready to strike if anything were to come out at him.

He checked in on Harry one last time and saw his godson sleeping soundly in his bed. Harry hadn't had a nightmare since he'd been home, but it had only been six days. Hopefully, Harry would learn to close his mind to Voldemort soon.

Sirius strolled through the library and noticed immediately that Harry had heeded his advice; the Animagus books were where they belonged. Those books had once belonged to James. He'd gotten them when the Marauders were studying Animagus transformations themselves. There had been more, but Sirius figured they'd been destroyed the night Lily and James were killed.

While Sirius didn't want to see Harry in trouble with the Ministry, he also didn't want to hold his godson back from continuing the process. Sirius was quite proud when he found out what Harry had been up to at Hogwarts. Some may say that made him a bad parent, but Sirius would tell you he didn't care too much. Harry was as stubborn as James on a normal day—on others he had the stubbornness of James and Lily combined in him. When his mind was set on something, nothing could stop him.

Sirius left the library and headed downstairs. He double-checked the locks on the front door, and continued on his nightly routine to the basement kitchen.

The Head Auror was well aware of Molly Weasley's views on his competency as a parent to Harry. She believed him to be an irrational bachelor at the best of times, with no right to raise Harry. Of course, she had never come straight out and said these things to Sirius. He'd heard whispered conversations when nobody thought he was listening. Sirius respected Molly more than just about any other person he'd met in the last ten years, but he didn't feel she had any right to say whether or not he was a good parent. He'd done everything he'd known to do—and then some—when it came to Harry. His world revolved around his nearly fifteen-year-old godson. He'd go to hell and back if it meant Harry was happy and safe.

Sirius finished in the kitchen by making sure Kreacher was in his cupboard. "Kreacher has been acting odd lately," Remus had said. "When does he not act oddly?" Sirius had asked. Remus had rolled his eyes and walked away from the conversation, leaving Sirius to wonder what Kreacher had done that would draw Remus' attention.

As he walked through the house towards the stairs, Sirius waved his wand, extinguishing lanterns as he passed. Though he was highly tempted, Sirius subdued the urge to check up on Harry again. There were still rare moments when Sirius, like Remus, believed him to be the same little boy he had been when Sirius had been reunited with him.

He could remember when he was nearing sixteen, living with the Potters after he'd left his own so-called home. Mrs. Potter had always said that Sirius and James would understand how she felt when they had children of their own. She used to check up on the two teenage boys after they'd gone to bed, just as Sirius was doing now. He chuckled as he realized she'd been right, like always.

Mrs. Potter had been exactly like Molly in the sense that, when it came to her children, she was as fierce as a mother dragon. Nobody dared mess with James Potter when his mother was around. The woman was as nice as they came, but could be a little over-protective if the situation warranted. When Sirius had moved in with them, she treated him with the same motherly attention she gave James.

Finally, Sirius made it to his bedroom. He closed his door behind him, changed into his flannel pajama bottoms, and climbed into bed. Sleep caught up with him not long after.


Down in the dark basement kitchen, behind a small door that contained the house's boiler, Kreacher the house-elf was grinning through his rotted yellow teeth. He'd heard more than enough that evening to continue on with the plan.

"Soon," the elf muttered, "the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black will be empty. And Kreacher and his Mistress can live in peace again."