My apologies for the language in this. Cursing, I mean. But I thought it fitted. :)

Possibly depressing, sorry.

Don't forget to review!

September 1995.

"… the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the employment of werewolf Remus Lupin..."

No wonder Sturgis Podmore didn't show up.

They found out only late in the afternoon of the first of September that Sturgis had tried to break into the Ministry of Magic. No one understood why exactly he had tried to, but they al realised that if the Ministry were to find out about the Order, they would be in big trouble. Kingsley immediately went to work, to try and hush it all up.

Moody was determined to tell Dumbledore right away and the rest of the Order was just as determined not to tell Dumbledore. He had enough on his mind anyway, they had argued, and besides, it's the first of September, the opening feast at Hogwarts, c'mon. Moody eventually gave in, although it was clearly against his better judgement.

So they broke the news to him the next day. By then, Kingsley had more to tell; Sturgis had been caught by Eric Munch, the Ministry's watchwizard, and he was to appear for the Wizengamot on September the fifth for trespassing and attempted robbery at the Ministry.

Remus wouldn't have believed it possible, but Dumbledore actually sat twenty seconds in stunned silence when he heard the news. The first thing he said when he had gathered his wits about again, was a calm: "why?"

And that was what everybody wanted to know. Why had Sturgis done it? Why the Ministry? He worked there, after all, in the Department of Mysteries no less, as an Unspeakable. And why in the middle of the night? He was supposed to have been standing guard, not breaking in. It made no sense.

"If I switch my paranoid self on," Sirius had said, "I'd say someone Imperio'ed him into it."

"Sirius," Remus had replied, "I know Voldemort's the bad guy here, but even he wouldn't be so stupid."

"Voldemort wouldn't, but one of his followers would. Perhaps Lucius 'Oh yes, punish me Master, I like it so much' Malfoy would."

"Padfoot, that's very disturbing."

The only one not smiling at the suggestion (or being utterly grossed out by the mental images) was Moody. He gave Sirius a pensive look, but kept his thoughts to himself.

It didn't exactly help – except perhaps with supporting Sirius' theory – that Sturgis kept insisting that he had no idea what he had done or why he had done it. Tonks began coming home with stories of people joking that Sturgis had been such a dedicated Ministry employee that he had begun sleepwalking to his work, or that he naturally couldn't say what he had been doing there since he was an Unspeakable and wasn't allowed to talk about what he was doing.

On Friday the fifth of September, the atmosphere at 12 Grimmauld Place was barely less anxious than it had been on the day of Harry's hearing. That could perhaps be because of the people in it – or rather, the only person it in. Sirius felt decidedly abandoned; the rest of the Order was off somewhere else, mainly around the Ministry trying to find out just what was going to happen to Sturgis. Even Remus had disappeared, back to Derbyshire – full moon tonight. Sirius had tried to persuade him to stay at Grimmauld Place, but Remus had refused. "Maybe next month," he had said. But Sirius had a feeling that Remus just didn't want to Change at Grimmauld Place, not ever. He felt uncomfortable, somehow vulnerable, in his form with so many relatively unknown people around, with such a high risk of people walking in on him. Sirius had tried to argue that this was completely ridiculous, there wouldn't be anybody around except Sirius, and he should be considered used to Moony by now. But Remus had insisted. And that was why Sirius was now alone, except for a chagrined Hippogriff and a most annoying House-elf.

He began the day by having an extremely long lie-in. There was no Molly around to shoo him out of bed anyway. He only wandered downstairs around two o'clock in the afternoon, when his stomach told him he really couldn't do without food anymore. He half-heartedly made himself breakfast, or lunch, or brunch, or whatever it was called, and was just about to think of something to do, when Kreacher shuffled into the kitchen, a disdainful and at the same time submissive look on his wrinkled face. It was a miracle to Sirius how the house-elf managed to do it.

"What do you want?" he ordered. He wasn't exactly in the mood for Kreacher.

"Kreacher wishes to inform the Master that an owl has arrived," the old elf said, bowing deeply. In an undertone, he added: "droppings all over the place, and who has to clean it? Oh, what a terrible fate Kreacher suffers, cleaning up after these people, half-breeds, bloodtraitors –"

"No thanks," Sirius said loudly and send Kreacher away with snapping his fingers and pointing at the door. Kreacher bowed again and shuffled out backwards, still muttering insults. He left his master feeling slightly disturbed, and it was only a few minutes later, when he had picked up Hedwig, that he realised why: he had dismissed Kreacher in the exact same way his parents had used to do, with a snap of the fingers, as if the elf was only an extremely obedient dog. He flinched.

"It's the house," he muttered. "It's driving me mad. I'm talking to myself."

He untied the letter and sat down. Hedwig hooted a bit indignantly at not being rewarded for her messaging, and began nibbling on the scrambled egg on Sirius' plate. Sirius reminded himself not to let Remus find out – his friend would scold him firstly for feeding an owl table-scraps, and secondly for not finishing his breakfast himself when he needed it so much.

"Bloody motherly friends," Sirius scolded softly, and he tore the letter open.

Dear Snuffles,

Hope you're OK, the first week back here's been terrible, I'm really glad it's the weekend.

We've got a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Umbridge. She's nearly as nice as your mum. I'm writing because that thing I wrote to you about last summer happened again last night when I was doing a detention with Umbridge.

We're all missing our biggest friend, we hope he'll be back soon.

Please write back quickly.

Best,

Harry

Sirius jumped up, scratched his head and began pacing circles around the table. The clue about Umbridge being nearly as nice as Sirius' mum was easy enough – Harry dearly wanted to kick his new professor in the shins. Or worse. It didn't surprise Sirius, if he took in account what he already knew of her. Then there was this 'biggest friend'. Our biggest friend even. Sirius puzzled for a moment, then it hit him – Hagrid of course. Harry would of course miss Hagrid, even though McGonagall had assured that Professor Grubbly-Plank was 'a very competent teacher'. But who wanted a competent teacher if you could have Hagrid? (Hermione and Remus didn't count.) And then there was that line about 'the thing I wrote to you about last summer'. Sirius had to rack his memory for several minutes – last summer seemed so long ago – until he remembered. Harry's scar.

He began ticking it off on his fingers. "Umbridge's a bitch, he's worried about Hagrid, and his scar hurts. And I can't write him a long letter with advice back either because I'm not allowed to." He paced another round.

"Unless, of course, I use a code. But how do you write about these things in code? 'Yeah, you could say my mum and Umbridge are alike, since they are both the mother of a dog', with a nice wink to my being an Animagus. But that would be ridiculously easy to figure out." Another round.

"Going to Hogwarts is not an option either." Another round.

"Damn it, if only Harry and I had the two-way mirror James and I had." Another round.

He stopped in front of the huge fireplace, staring at the fire. The pot with Floo-powder on the mantle glittered in the light. They might have been jumping up and down with brightly-coloured little flags, singing "pick me! Pick me!" in high-pitched voices, but Sirius didn't see the clues in front of him.

"Why doesn't the wizarding world use phones?" Sirius muttered moodily.

The Floo-powder seemed to do an extra bright sparkle, almost desperately. Hello?

Sirius looked up and saw the green powder. "Wait a minute…"

If they could, both the Floo-powder and the fire would have given an exasperated sigh.

Sirius intentionally waited until Sunday evening before he tried to contact Harry. He wanted to give Remus, or Tonks, or even Kingsley or Dumbledore, a chance to butt in with their opinion – or disapproval. But none of them showed their face, not even Remus. He got a short, matter-of-fact note from Kingsley, telling him that Sturgis had been sentenced to six months in Azkaban, and would Sirius please pass it on to any member of the Order that came to Grimmauld Place and didn't know yet. The letter was so matter-of-fact, so business-like and concerned with something else that Kingsley completely seemed to have forgotten Sirius' own sentence in Azkaban. It was a strange experience for him to see that word there, calmly: Azkaban. Sturgis had been sentenced to six months of Hell.

Apart from that, he didn't hear from anybody.

So around nine in the evening, he took the pot with Floo-powder and sat down at the fire. He threw a bit of powder in the flames, waited until they turned green and stuck his head in the fire. "Gryffindor Common Room!"

His head began spinning on his body until it came to rest again and he looked into the completely filled common room of Gryffindor. He immediately drew his head back.

"Damn it, shouldn't those kids be in bed by now?" he said.

He tried again around ten o'clock, then eleven, and then twelve. At midnight, the common room was decidedly emptier, so he decided to now check every ten minutes or so. To his relief, Harry wasn't an early sleeper.

At twenty past twelve he stuck his head in the fire again. He looked right in Harry's eyes, but only realised when he had reflexively drawn his head back. He stuck it back in again.

"Sirius's head?" he heard Hermione say. "You mean like when he wanted to talk to you during the Triwizard Tournament? But he wouldn't do that now, it would be too – Sirius!"

She gaped at Sirius. He figured it had to be a pretty strange sight, a head in the middle of flames. Ron was so startled he dropped his quill. Harry smiled. He was sitting on the floor, kneeled at the fireplace.

"I was starting to think you'd go to bed before everyone else had disappeared," Sirius said conversationally to his Godson. "I've been checking every hour."

"You've been popping into the fire every hour?" Harry said, half-laughing.

"Just for a few seconds to check if the coast was clear," Sirius said, grinning.

"But what if you'd been seen?" asked Hermione. She and Ron joined Harry on the floor.

"Well, I think a girl – first-year, by the look of her – might've got a glimpse of me earlier – " Sirius began casually, but changed his tone when he saw Hermione's worried look. "But don't worry, I was gone the moment she looked back at me and I'll bet she just thought I was an oddly-shaped log or something."

"But, Sirius, this is taking an awful risk –" Hermione began a Molly-esque rant.

"You sound like Molly," said Sirius coolly. "This was the only way I could come up with of answering Harry's letter without resorting to a code – and codes are breakable."

Ron and Hermione looked at Harry. Hermione downright glared. "You didn't say you'd written to Sirius!"

"I forgot," Harry said, looking slightly amazed at himself – he had forgotten. "Don't look at me like that, Hermione, there was no way anyone would have got secret information out of it, was there, Sirius?" He turned to his Godfather.

"No, it was very good," Sirius complimented. "Anyway, we'd better be quick, just in case we're disturbed – your scar."

"What about –?" Ron began, but Hermione interrupted him.

"We'll tell you afterwards. Go on, Sirius."

"Well, I know it can't be fun when it hurts," Sirius said matter-of-factly, "but we don't think it's anything to really worry about. It kept aching all last year, didn't it?"

"Yeah, and Dumbledore said it happened whenever Voldemort was feeling a powerful emotion," said Harry. Ron and Hermione winced at the name, but both Harry and Sirius ignored them. "So maybe he was just, I dunno, really angry or something the night I had that detention."

"Well, now he's back it's bound to hurt more often," said Sirius.

"So you don't think it had anything to do with Umbridge touching me when I was in detention with her?" Harry wanted to know.

"I doubt it," said Sirius. "I know her by reputation and I'm sure she's no Death Eater –"

"She's foul enough to be one," said Harry darkly. Ron and Hermione nodded their vigorous assent. Sirius almost had to laugh, albeit wryly.

"Yes, but the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters," he said. "I know she's a nasty piece of work, though — you should hear Remus talk about her." Judging by Remus' words, she was even worse than a Death Eater. At least Death Eaters usually kill their victims quickly, he had said a few days ago.

"Does Lupin know her?" Harry asked.

"No," said Sirius, not personally anyway, "but she drafted a bit of anti-werewolf legislation two years ago that makes it almost impossible for him to get a job."

"What's she got against werewolves?" Hermione demanded to know, an angry frown on her face. Sirius smiled as he turned to her.

"Scared of them, I expect," he said. "Apparently she loathes part-humans; she campaigned to have merpeople rounded up and tagged last year, too. Imagine wasting your time and energy persecuting merpeople when there are little toerags like Kreacher on the loose."

Ron laughed, Harry grinned, but Hermione looked even more indignant than at the mention of Umbridge's dislike of werewolves.

"Sirius!" she reprimanded. "Honestly, if you made a bit of an effort with Kreacher, I'm sure he'd respond. After all, you are the only member of his family he's got left, and Professor Dumbledore said –"

"So, what are Umbridge's lessons like?" Sirius impolitely changed the subject. "Is she training you all to kill half-breeds?" It was Remus' mock-greatest fear (his real greatest fear was that everybody actually wanted to kill half-breeds).

"No," said Harry, looking rather happy that Hermione's speech had been cut of. "She's not letting us use magic at all!"

"All we do is read the stupid textbook," added Ron.

"Ah, well, that figures," said Sirius reasonably. "Our information from inside the Ministry is that Fudge doesn't want you trained in combat." Tonks and Remus had heard as much.

"Trained in combat!" repeated Harry incredulously. "What does he think we're doing here, forming some sort of wizard army?"

"That's exactly what he thinks you're doing," said Sirius, now not feeling the least inclined to smile anymore, "or, rather, that's exactly what he's afraid Dumbledore's doing – forming his own private army, with which he will be able to take on the Ministry of Magic."

The children were silent, stunned, at this. Then Ron said: "that's the most stupid thing I've ever heard, including all the stuff that Luna Lovegood comes out with."

"So we're being prevented from learning Defence Against the Dark Arts because Fudge is scared we'll use spells against the Ministry?" Hermione said furiously. She looked ready to begin yet another campaign, this time against the Ministry itself.

"Yep," said Sirius. "Fudge thinks Dumbledore will stop at nothing to seize power. He's getting more paranoid about Dumbledore by the day. It's a matter of time before he has Dumbledore arrested on some trumped-up charge."

"D'you know if there's going to be anything about Dumbledore in the Daily Prophet tomorrow?" Harry asked pensively. "Ron's brother Percy reckons there will be –"

"I don't know," said Sirius, shaking his head, "I haven't seen anyone from the Order all weekend, they're all busy. It's just been Kreacher and me here." He sighed inaudibly.

"So you haven't had any news about Hagrid, either?"

"Ah..." said Sirius. Our biggest friend. "Well, he was supposed to be back by now, no one's sure what's happened to him." The trio looked shocked, and he remembered that they weren't so privy to the Order's information as he was. He added quickly: "but Dumbledore's not worried, so don't you three get yourselves in a state; I'm sure Hagrid's fine."

"But if he was supposed to be back by now..." said Hermione softly, anxiously. Ron and Harry looked just as worried as she sounded.

"Madame Maxime was with him, we've been in touch with her and she says they got separated on the journey home," Sirius assured them, "but there's nothing to suggest he's hurt or – well, nothing to suggest he's not perfectly OK." They still didn't look convinced, so he added: "Listen, don't go asking too many questions about Hagrid, it'll just draw even more attention to the fact that he's not back and I know Dumbledore doesn't want that. Hagrid's tough, he'll be OK."

Ron frowned, Hermione looked worried, and Harry looked as though he simply had a bad feeling about the entire thing. To try and get their minds on other, better things, Sirius said, making himself sound cheerful: "when's your next Hogsmeade weekend, anyway? I was thinking, we got away with the dog disguise at the station, didn't we? I thought I could —"

"NO!" Harry and Hermione nearly shouted. Sirius raised his eyebrows, amazed.

"Sirius, didn't you see the Daily Prophet?" said Hermione urgently.

"Oh, that," said Sirius relieved, grinning. He had indeed got the paper yesterday morning. But he had discarded it as a load of rubbish; Kingsley hadn't said anything about getting a tip from someone he didn't know or hadn't made up. "They're always guessing where I am, they haven't really got a clue –"

"Yeah, but we think this time they have," Harry interrupted. "Something Malfoy said on the train made us think he knew it was you, and his father was on the platform, Sirius – you know, Lucius Malfoy – so don't come up here, whatever you do. If Malfoy recognises you again –'

"All right, all right, I've got the point," said Sirius loudly. "Just an idea, thought you might like to get together."

"I would, I just don't want you chucked back in Azkaban!" said Harry.

Sirius looked at his Godson, his eyes narrowed. He suddenly felt distant from the boy. It was strange; there was James, crouched by the fire, but at the same time it wasn't. Lily's eyes suddenly appeared more prominent, more visible. Suddenly, it was her talking, not James. James would've welcomed the plan, would've seen it as another adventure. Lily would've scolded them for it.

"You're less like your father than I thought," Sirius concluded coolly. "The risk would've been what made it fun for James."

"Look –" Harry began, but Sirius interrupted.

"Well, I'd better get going, I can hear Kreacher coming down the stairs," he lied, forcing himself to sound unaffected, trying to mask his disappointment. His grief. "I'll write to tell you a time I can make it back into the fire, then, shall I?" The last sneer slipped out before he could help it – "If you can stand to risk it?"

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Sirius had already drawn his head back.

"Did you sleep at all tonight?"

"Sleep is overrated," Sirius growled. "And shut up."

"Sorry I asked!" Tonks said, offended. "I was only showing some interest in you, gee."

"That's the first time in days," Sirius replied sourly.

"Can I help it? You know I'm busy."

"That's my point," Sirius snarled. "Everybody is so bloody busy that nobody even bothers to tell me what the hell is going on!"

"Sirius!" said Molly sharply, putting the coffee-pot on the table with a loud 'clunk'. "Language!"

Sirius pretended he hadn't heard. "The only thing I get is letters with minimal information, telling me to pass it on to whoever deigns himself to stop by. I'm nothing more than a fucking messenger."

"Could you not use those words, especially not when we're having breakfast?" asked Molly hotly. Again, Sirius pretended not to have heard; he was hoping he could talk her into having an argument. Then he wouldn't be the only one to suffer and be frustrated.

Unfortunately for him, Kingsley came into the kitchen at that very moment. He was carrying the Daily Prophet, as always; a subscription wouldn't work with a house under the Fidelius-charm, and besides, Kingsley liked stopping by around breakfast to chat, catch up with the latest news and enjoy Molly's toast, scrambled eggs and sausages.

"Daily Prophet's here," he announced, as he came walking down the stairs.

"Ah, Kingsley." Molly began busying herself with breakfast for the Auror.

"Anything interesting in the paper?" Tonks asked, but Kingsley didn't answer her. Instead, he asked Sirius: "is Remus down yet?"

"No, he's still upstairs," Sirius answered. "He's a bit hangover, I expect. Had a rough weekend."

"Don't let him see this, then – it'll make it worse." Kingsley didn't look pleased.

"Why?" Tonks asked. "What's wrong?"

"This." With that one word, the tall man showed them the headline of today's Daily Prophet.

"MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM; DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR."

"Bugger," Sirius scolded, as he grabbed the newspaper.

"Sirius…" said Molly threatening, clutching a spoon in a possibly dangerous way.

"Whatever is a High Inquisitor?" Tonks wondered.

"I have no idea, but it sounds like torturing to me," Sirius muttered as his eyes flew over the lines.

"Nobody expects the Umbridge inquisition," Kingsley said as he sat down. "It's not just the headline, though. Remus shouldn't read the entire piece. We should throw the paper away and pretend it didn't exist."

"Why – ?" Tonks began, but she was interrupted by Sirius, who had reached the fifth to last paragraph, and was staring incredulously at three words in particular.

"Fuck."

"Sirius!"

Please let me be dead, Remus thought, squeezing his eyes shut. He was still in bed, and if it were up to him he'd stay there for, oh, the rest of his life. His body felt as though somebody had broken every bone in it. Come to think of it – that's true. Depressingly enough.

By sheer power of will, he opened his eyes and looked at the alarmclock on the bedside table. Half past eight. He groaned.

Staying in bed would be considered lazy and unmotivated. Getting up would mean spending another boring day at the Ministry. Perhaps he could stay at Grimmauld Place today.

That actually sounded like a good plan.

He sat up, swung his legs out of bed and staggered to the bathroom. The day had begun.

Remus could've known something was wrong when he entered the kitchen. Everybody was just a little too 'oh, no, we're fine, nothing's wrong, we're all very happy, really' to be real. But he was tired and still half sleeping, so he didn't notice anything. Not even that Sirius had made a sudden movement when he came in, a movement which involved a lot of paper rustling, or that Tonks was throwing him anxious looks. He was only dimly aware of Molly being much quicker with giving him tea and toast than usual.

"So, Kingsley," he said hoarsely (damn Change). "Any news today?"

The question actually seemed to startle Kingsley for a moment. Sirius moved restlessly in his seat. Oddly enough, he made a creaking sound as he did so.

"No, nothing special," Kingsley said.

"Okay." Remus began eating his toast.

Tonks and Sirius exchanged looks. "You should tell him," Tonks mouthed.

"No, why should I tell him? You tell him!" Sirius gestured back. "He's had it bad enough already this weekend!"

"But you're his best friend!" Tonks gestured almost accusingly at Sirius, who glared back. He could hardly deny that she was right. But that didn't mean he was going to tell Remus.

It was only when he had finished his toast and tea that Remus noticed everybody was looking at him. And not in a relaxed way either.

"Anything the matter?" he asked, a feeling of dread growing inside him.

"Hmm," said Sirius. Tonks nudged him.

"Go on!"

"Erm, Remus," Sirius began carefully.

"What?"

"Uhm. Kingsley just brought us the Daily Prophet…"

Kingsley and Molly looked at Sirius in horror. He wasn't really going to say it, was he?

"Oh God." Remus' eyes widened. "Anything bad?" He turned to Kingsley, accusingly. "And you said there was no news!"

"Um," said Kingsley. It was the first time Remus had seen him lost for words.

"Well?" he asked Sirius. "What is it? They haven't found us out, have they?"

Sirius laughed nervously. "Funny you should say that."

"Padfoot, this is no laughing matter," Remus said sternly. "What was in the paper?"

"Read for yourself," Sirius sighed. He took the paper from under him. "Sorry I sat on it."

"You sat on the paper? Why?"

"To keep it from you of course, dolt. Read. I'm sorry."

"Hm." Remus didn't even pay attention to his friend anymore when he saw the headlines. "Oh good God and all his angels and that kind of things."

Tonks groaned. "Are we really going to let him read the rest?" she whispered to Sirius. But Sirius knew Remus could read at top-speed and was already reading the article. There was nothing to be done now.

"'And of course she's been an immediate success'," Remus read aloud. He didn't look up when he said it, and so he didn't see the others looking at him with a sort of anxious, fascinated horror.

"'… has received enthusiastic support' – oh, of course," Remus muttered his commentary. "Sirius, Lucius Malfoy's quoted."

"I know," said Sirius, feeling ridiculously calm. He was near hysterical laughing, or crying, or both, when he saw his friend mouth the next few sentences, slowing down his reading, unconsciously clenching his fist, digging his nails in the palm of his hand, a frown of utter sadness appearing on his face.

Remus finished the last sentence, then he carefully folded the newspaper, avoiding to look at the photo of Dolores Umbridge on the front page. The lines in his face seemed to have deepened.

"I'm sorry," Tonks whispered. The sad smile he gave her wasn't so much a smile as a short, barely visible jerk of the corners of his mouth. He avoided her eyes.

Sirius felt like murdering someone. Particularly a certain short woman, favouring the colour pink, currently residing at Hogwarts and making his friend's life a hell.

"I cannot believe they're getting away with this," he burst out. "This is slander. It's worse than slander. They don't realise what they're saying, what they've just done – "

"Sirius, shut the hell up," said Remus tiredly. He rubbed his forehead. "You're not making sense. It's not slander, it's the truth. Newspapers are supposed to tell the truth. Whether that's… pleasant… or not."

"How can you be so calm about it?" Tonks said accusingly. Remus only smiled at her.

Sirius realised his friend had put on his mask.

He knew this Remus. He had seen him before. This was automatic-pilot Remus. It was 'oh no, I'm absolutely fine with it, really, I don't care'-Remus. 'Smile on his face and distant look in his eyes'-Remus. And Sirius also knew that his friend would try and get away as soon as possible, to be alone. Because under that mask, the real Remus was far from calm. This was much worse than a vengeful Potions Master 'slipping up' in front of a hall of students. Everybody in the whole of the United Kingdom now knew that this man, Remus Lupin, was not to be trusted. He wouldn't be able to protect himself. Sirius would have to protect him against the rest of the country.

He began with getting the people here off his friend's back. "What's the use of screaming and kicking?" he answered Tonks's question for Remus, echoing the words Remus had told his friends so often when they had voiced their indignation. "It won't do any good. Now – " he gave a meaningful look at the clock. "It's nine o'clock…"

"I get the hint," Tonks said, rolling her eyes. She stood up. "But I still think them utter bastards."

Remus smiled weakly. "You're allowed to," he said softly.

"Good." Kingsley got up as well. "Will you be coming to the Ministry later?"

"Perhaps," Remus said. "Later."

"I'll see you then." Kingsley gave Remus a worried, pitying look, then he motioned for Tonks to follow him, and the two Aurors walked out of the kitchen.

Molly made to pick up the Daily Prophet, but Sirius snatched it away. The last thing he needed was for her to see Percy openly supporting Umbridge. Not now.

"Erm, Molly, could you…" he began, frantically thinking of something he could go make her do. "I need…"

"We're out of… parchment," she tactfully 'remembered'. "For the Meetings. I'm going to get a few reams in Diagon Alley."

"Good idea," Sirius said. He didn't see it, but Remus glanced at him, smiling his first genuine (albeit small) smile this morning.

They waited until Molly had put on her cloak and left, before Sirius said: "so. And what are we going to do now?"

"Thanks, Sirius," Remus said, ignoring the question.

"What for?"

"For getting the others off my back." Remus smiled sadly.

"I'm really transparent to you, aren't I?" Sirius groaned. He sat down.

"Of course you are. You're like glass to me."

"It's really annoying."

"I know. Probably as transparent as I am to you. That's why you worked the others away, didn't you?"

"Yeah. And don't start thinking you're any bit transparent. Most of the time, you're a complete mystery to me." Sirius was happy to see the real Remus come back when his friend smiled.

"Oh really? I'm not transparent? What am I going to do now, you think?"

"The usual," Sirius said casually. Remus pulled up an eyebrow. "You're going to be sad for a while, and withdrawn, but eventually you're going to hold your head high and go on with your business as usual, the rest of the world be damned. You're really stronger than you look, Moony."

Remus laughed and pulled a face. Sirius couldn't help but laugh too. "Thanks, I guess."

"What are you going to do in the near future? As in, the next three hours?"

"I don't know," sighed Remus. "What are you going to do?"

"Well, I was planning to go and clean up, uhm. I was going to clean my father's study and sort out his stuff. I could use a hand, actually, but nobody's here except Kreacher…" Sirius pretended to sigh.

"Oh, the subtlety of that hint," Remus teased. "Gee, I couldn't possibly understand what you mean. Well, I suppose you can always ask Kreacher to help you out. Or did you mean you needed a –" For a moment, Remus paused. He had wanted to say 'a human hand', but that way of putting it forcefully reminded him of the Daily Prophet. He wasn't human; not completely. "– did you mean you needed my hand?" he corrected himself.

"Why Moony, now you so kindly offer it…" Sirius joked. He got up. "Shall we?"

Remus got to his feet as well, looking serious. "Thanks, Padfoot," he said solemnly.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Why now?"

"For… offering me a way out."

"Erm. Out of what?"

"The rest of the world." There was no hint of a smile in Remus' eyes. It made Sirius feel sad and angry at the same time, but he forced himself to smile. He hit his friend on the shoulder.

"We'll see later, when you're covered in dust and are completely exhausted and sore from cleaning, whether you'll want to thank me again, Moony."