Gawd, I just got teary-eyed writing the last bit of this chapter. Snif. Only one more chapter to go, before... you know. I managed to chuck in some-last minute R/S-ness while I still can, although it's not explicit or anything. I'll just quote Marianne Dashwood from Jane Austen's Sense & Sensibility here when I say that "It was every day implied, but never professedly declared"!

I'm horribly showing off my knowledge of the London Underground here, but it's just the best metro I know! The one in Amsterdam isn't big enough, the one in Rome is too rickety and old, the one in New York has those awful plastic benches and I feel uncomfortable going there after nine in the evening. The London Underground is nice and big and has plush chairs, so what's not to love? ;) (And I feel like such a travel-wise person when I'm making those comparisons!)

Anyway, chapter. Enjoy!

June 1996.

"There was nobody left to tell. Dumbledore had gone, Hagrid had gone, but he had always expected Professor McGonagall to be there, irascible and inflexible, perhaps, but always dependably, solidly present…"

Things weren't going very well.

First there had been this whole fight with Sirius. That had been more than four weeks ago, and he and Remus still hadn't made up. Sirius was so angry with Remus he even refused to acknowledge his friend's existence, and Remus on his part refused to give in; not this time. He had given in so many times, just to keep the peace, but he decided that this mattered. It was time for Sirius to grow up, to realise that not everything could be done his way. This time, Remus would stand his ground. He knew he was right and that Sirius was just too foolhardy to say so.

It affected the entire atmosphere at number twelve, Grimmauld Place. It was only now that the rest of the Order realised what a calming effect Remus had had on Sirius. The latter now had plenty of time to moodily stalk the corridors and the staircases, with no-one to tell him to cut it out – he would only have taken orders like that from Remus, but now Remus couldn't be bothered. And even if he could, it was likely that Sirius would have obstinately refused to do as he was told, simply to spite his friend.

As if having a fight with his best friend wasn't enough, Remus had also had a blazing row with Snape. He had confronted the Potion Master after the very first meeting of the Order after Harry had talked to them through Umbridge's fire. He had been so tactful to talk to him in the deserted sitting room upstairs, and a good thing too, because Snape's reaction hadn't been suited for more company. The man had flat-out refused to continue the lessons. First he had put the blame on Harry's insatiable curiosity and general nosiness and rudeness, then he had claimed that there had never been much learning on Harry's side anyway, but Remus slowly managed to get the real reason out. Snape hated Harry, he hated everything to do with the Potters, and he had been reluctant to teach Harry from the first. That dive in the Pensieve and the witnessing of teenage Snape being humiliated had only been the last straw. So Remus' suggestion that he put the past behind him and just continue teaching Harry wasn't exactly received well. Snape hadn't got one of his fits, but he had got very pale, and with thin lips he had only said one word: "never." The look in his eyes had warned Remus not to push the subject any further. The conversation hadn't developed into a full-scale row like the one with Sirius, but Remus hadn't got off easy either: Snape had just as good a memory as Sirius had when it came to humiliation, insults or just generally things he didn't like, and from that evening on he eyed Remus with even more distrust than usual. But instead of making Remus feel bad, as it usually would, it only annoyed him further. Hell, he had done nothing wrong. For some reason or other, Harry always seemed to cause arguments, even if it wasn't directly, and Remus was usually left to try and make amends. If only that pattern would change once in a while, he wished.

To top it all off, the Weasley twins, Fred and George, had decided that full-time education wasn't their thing anymore, so they had left school – much to the anger of Molly Weasley. She couldn't believe her eyes when she received the letter from the twins, happily announcing that they'd got premises at Diagon Alley and had opened a joke-shop.

"A joke-shop!" she kept repeating. "With what money? I knew those two would never turn out to anything sensible, but a joke-shop of all things!" She got the opportunity to shout this at them in person when the twins turned up at the Headquarters, but the two boys remained stone-faced under it all: eighteen years as the most unruly kids under her care had given them a fairly thick hide. They left again without Molly's forgiveness, and judging by the furious muttering she had done when she was preparing dinner that evening, they wouldn't get forgiveness for a long time either. Dinner that evening had been tense, with Molly glaring and snapping at everybody who dared to say something, Sirius being not much better and Remus not talking at all. Arthur and Tonks feebly tried to keep a conversation going, but eventually had to give up, and the meal ended in silence with everybody wishing to be somewhere else.

In short: things weren't going very well.

It was June already. When he thought about it, Remus could hardly believe that it was already a year ago that Voldemort had regained his powers. It seemed much shorter, and at the same time much longer – shorter because so much had happened in the past year, but longer because, what with the Order being back to business, the intermediate fourteen years seemed not to have happened.

It was a fairly clouded summer day when Remus and Tonks got on their way to the nearest London Underground station. It was a strange habit they shared: going to the Ministry by Tube. Kingsley rolled his eyes at them and couldn't imagine why the crowded, cramped metro was preferable to simply Apparating there, but Remus and Tonks liked the Muggleness of it all. The cute little gates that swallowed your ticket, the long escalators and the slowness of the transport. It was all so primitive and clumsy.

"Another reason why I really like it," Remus told Tonks as they were waiting for the Circle Line train, "is this feeling of being surrounded by people who think they're absolutely normal people living in an absolutely normal world, with nothing silly like wizards and magic."

"Like you're in a secret club," Tonks said contentedly, and he nodded.

An ominous thunder announced the arrival of their train. The doors slid open and they got on board, along with a throng of other people going to their work. There was another reason Remus liked the Underground, a reason he had never told Tonks: being on the Tube during the morning rush hour made him feel a part of the group, as if he was someone going to his job too. It made him feel normal and useful.

Tonks stopped trying to read the Daily Mirror of the man standing next to her and turned to Remus. "Have you talked to Sirius yet?" she asked, out of the blue. Remus had told her about Sirius' and his argument because she couldn't help but notice that they weren't talking to each other anymore.

Remus smiled wryly. "What is there to talk about?" he asked. "Sirius will never admit I was right, and I'm not going to say I was wrong just to appease him."

"No, I don't think you should, either," she said pensively. She quickly grabbed one of the yellow poles in the train to prevent herself from toppling over as the train took a particularly sharp and fast turn. "But what can you do?"

"The problem is simply Sirius' immense stubbornness," he said. "He flat-out refuses to admit being wrong, or being weaker or whatever. Once he has made a discussion or formed an opinion he'll stick to it, even when he realises later that it was a stupid one. Saying he was wrong seems to compare to admitting defeat."

Tonks couldn't answer for a moment because the train had just arrived at a station; the doors opened and people moved off and on. When the last one had worked himself inside, the doors closed again and they moved on, much more crowded together now.

"I know exactly what you're talking about," Tonks continued the conversation, ignoring the people pressing against her and pretending to be the only one on the train – just like the rest of the passengers were doing. "My Mum's exactly the same. Stubborn as a mule sometimes – too proud to admit defeat. In fact, she even told me one day, when I was having a particularly bad time at school because I was being bullied for being 'weird', that I should just hold my head high and pretend nothing had happened. Whatever I did, I shouldn't ask for help. Exact words: 'Blacks don't ask for help'. Of course, pretending nothing had happened didn't mean that Blacks don't hold grudges or will try to take revenge in some underhand kind of way. You're just not supposed to show weakness."

"Exactly," Remus agreed, "exactly! That's Sirius. He doesn't allow himself to show what he thinks is weakness."

"Except that the problem is that people who think there's nothing wrong with admitting you're wrong usually end up in the position where they can do nothing but apologise for being wrong when they were in fact right, just to keep the peace."

"You summed it up admirably."

"So we'll just have to learn to be assertive, and then we can kick Sirius' arse."

"You can do that, in case he kicks back – did you see the boots he's wearing?"

Tonks laughed. "We can always ask Bill to kick Sirius in our stead."

The conversation was interrupted again by their arrival at a station. A female voice announced where they were, which lines they could change for, for which tourist attractions they could alight here, and that there was a regular trainstation here too. Last but not least, she warned them to mind the gap between the train and the platform. Her efforts, though, went almost unnoticed – most of the travellers had already heard it a dozen times.

"I don't see how you can miss the gap between the train and the platform," Tonks joked, "it's right next to the train."

Remus laughed, but he seemed to be the only one – the people around him were all too caught up in their morning-mood to laugh at jokes.

"You know what I don't understand?" he asked, picking up their conversation again.

"No? What?"

"Your mum. Sirius told me she got kicked out of the family because she wanted to marry your dad, but at the same time she's teaching you Black-family values. Wouldn't she do the exact reverse?"

Tonks sighed. "Well, blood's thicker than water, as they say. You know, I think the thing is that exactly those same things kept her standing. They kicked her out, she had to survive on her own because her own family wasn't going to help her. She's proud of course, like all Blacks, so she didn't want to show how much she suffered. The family motto should be changed to 'never, ever, ever show weakness', really."

"That makes sense," he nodded. "I mean, not changing the motto or anything, but about being too proud to admit needing help."

"Describes Sirius to a T, doesn't it?"

"Exactly."

The train slowed down once more. This was the station nearest to the Ministry, and so they both wriggled and excused their way out of the train. There were no escalators here, only long staircases. They went through the gates once more and walked up another staircase until they were finally outside.

"Coming with to the Ministry?" Tonks asked. "We got coffee."

"That sounds really tempting," Remus said, "but I really can't. I already agreed to meet someone else."

"Really? Who?"

"The cutest girl I ever saw."

"Remus!" Tonks acted impressed. "I didn't know you were seeing a girl. Tell me, how is she? Nice? Pretty? How old is she anyway?"

"She's ten," Remus said, and laughed at Tonks' weirded-out expression. "Don't look at me like that. It's a young werewolf I met about a year ago. She's coming to Diagon Alley with her parents to do Hogwarts shopping for her brother, and I agreed to come along with them."

"So you can tell them what an old crone Umbridge is before they find out themselves. Very clever."

"Not quite like that," he said. "Besides, they already know. Anyway, I really must be off. Promise to be nice today, okay?"

"I'll only tease Kingsley once, I promise," Tonks said, taking the air of a sweet little girl.

"Good girl." Remus patted Tonks' head. She laughed, then said goodbye. She waved once more before going into the telephonebox that would take her into the atrium of the Ministry. Remus waited until she was out of sight, then, instead of going back to the Underground, he Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron.

After all, the Muggle ways were cute and fun, but there was nothing better than a nice, fast Apparition.

After so many weeks of being glared at and being ignored, Remus had almost forgotten what it was liked to be greeted with a hug at stomach-height that nearly took you down. Not that Sirius ever used to hug him at stomach-level, but it was the principle that mattered.

Fay seemed to embrace this principle as warmly as she embraced him when she caught sight of him walking into the Leaky Cauldron. He had barely set a foot over the threshold when the small blond girl came rushing towards him. She had grown since he'd last seen her, but she still didn't reach higher than roughly his chest, so the area that was easiest for her to hug was his stomach. Unfortunately for him.

"Oof," he said, laughing. "Let me breathe, please."

She let go of him. "I didn't know you'd come," she said excitedly. "I mean, Mum said you'd come, but I wasn't really sure if you'd come even though she said you'd come."

"Of course I would come," he said. "Why would I want to miss spending a day with you?"

She smiled broadly, then took his hand and pulled him towards the table where her parents and brother were sitting. Fay's brother, Mark, was only a year and a half older than she was, and had turned eleven a few months ago. It was clear to Remus that they were siblings: they had the same facial features and the same build. Mark only had darker hair than Fay, who was almost white-blonde.

Mr and Mrs Mills greeted Remus fondly: just the fact that their daughter was so happy to see him would have been enough for them to like him, but they were really fond of him.

"How are you?" Mr Mills asked.

"Fine, thank you," Remus said. "Ready for a day of book-shopping."

"A bookworm, are you?" Mrs Mills said. "Fay too."

"Take me book-shopping," Fay immediately demanded. "Please?"

"But aren't you actually here for your brother?" he asked, smiling.

"Mark can go book-shopping on his own, or with Mum and Dad," she said, scowling a bit.

"Hey!" Mark protested at being left out so easily.

"Don't worry," Mrs Mills laughed. "Nobody has to go on his own."

"I go with Remus," Fay interrupted. She protectively took his sleeve. "I don't want to see Mark buy robes."

"Fine. I don't want you to come anyway." Mark stuck out his tongue – his sister immediately did the same.

"Kids," their mother warned. "Listen, we'll do this. We'll split up – yes Fay, you can go with Remus – and we'll meet at four o'clock at Florean Fortescues. How's that for a plan?"

It sounded like a great plan for all involved. Mr and Mrs Mill and Mark set off for Madam Malkin's to buy school robes.

Remus looked at Fay, who looked back up at him. "What do you want to do?" he asked.

"Books?" she said.

He thought this an excellent suggestion, so they set off as well to find the nearest bookshop. They spend an hour browsing before they realised that they would never have enough money to buy all the books they wanted, so there was a change of plans. They went 'Hogwarts shopping: the fun way', which basically meant going to all the shops and look at all the things necessary for a first-year student at Hogwarts, with the exception of boring things like robes and potion-ingredients and the like. Fay had been to Diagon Alley before, but she'd never looked around with the purpose of buying school supplies (or even pretending to have that goal), and she was fascinated by the magical things first-years were supposed to have. They spend ages testing all the telescopes and magnifying glasses in Ledermann's Lenses Shop, where Fay wouldn't rest until Simon Ledermann, the owner of the shop, had explained exactly how a glass lens was cut and polished into the right shape. Then they went to the Great Glass House, a store specialised in everything made of glass, from simple bottles to the finest wineglasses, where they pretended to be looking for phials for Potions class. They skipped the apothecary, which they suspected was too smelly for their sensitive noses. Instead, they went to Olivanders, where Fay gazed longingly through the window at the hundreds of wands inside.

"I so wish I could have my own wand," she said.

"Only a year away," Remus said, "then you can buy your school supplies for real."

"Yeah," she said, but there was a somewhat sad tone in her voice.

Remus didn't react to this until later, when they were at Florean Fortescues. Fay's parents and brother hadn't arrived yet, so Remus bought Fay a large chocolate-and-strawberry sundae, which cheered her up again.

"The good thing is," he said conversationally as he tried to nick ice-cream from her sundae, "is that next year, you'll know exactly where to find everything you need."

"You don't really think I get to go to Hogwarts, do you?" she asked quietly, looking up.

"I wouldn't know why not," he said bracingly, but he felt a surge of pity when he saw the tears in her eyes.

"Because – because I am… you know," she said with a trembling voice. "And Mum and Dad said it'll be alright, but I just know that they'll never let me come if Dumbledore's not there!"

Remus simply couldn't make himself lie to her. She was absolutely right, Umbridge would never allow Fay to go to Hogwarts. At the same time, he felt horrible to have to crush her hopes, just because some awful little woman had managed to snatch Dumbledore's job.

"Fay," he said sympathetically, "please, don't cry – "

Those words did it. Tears rolled down her cheeks, even though she bravely tried to keep them in. He quickly took his handkerchief from his pocket and gave it to her. She took it gratefully.

"Listen," he said. "I think your mum and dad are right. It will be alright. It's still a few months away before you get your letter, and more than a whole year before you even start Hogwarts! A lot can happen in a year."

"But what if Dumbledore never comes back?" she said tearfully.

"You know, I was talking to him the other day, and he said that he'll try everything to be Headmaster of Hogwarts again. He didn't want to leave – he loves the school."

"Did you ask him about me too?" she asked, slightly more hopeful.

"Yes, of course," he lied. "And he said that if you really want to come, he'll try his best even more to come back."

"Really?"

"Really," he said. It was only half a lie – he was pretty sure it would have been exactly Dumbledore's reaction had their conversation taken place. "And Professor Snape said he's really looking forward to teaching you." This was an obvious lie – he tried to get her to laugh.

It worked. "No he didn't," she said, smiling. "He didn't seemed to like me at all when we visited him."

"Well okay, maybe I made that one up." They laughed at each other. "Better now?" he asked.

"Yes," she sighed, but it was a content sigh. She dabbed her eyes and blew her nose with his handkerchief, then wanted to give it back, but he told her she could keep it.

"Then we'll have a reason to see each other again," he said, "so you can give it back then."

"Okay," she agreed, and carefully put the handkerchief in her pocket.

They spend the rest of the time they had to wait for Mr and Mrs Mills and Mark eating ice-cream and watching passers-by. This was such an enjoyable thing to do that when the rest of the Mills family arrived, they joined Remus and Fay in it. It was only when it was nearly dinner-time that they agreed it was time to leave.

Fay hugged Remus again, this time as a goodbye.

"Until next time," she said.

"Be sure to watch for that letter on your birthday," he promised. He would make sure she'd get it, even if he would have to poison Umbridge for it.

"I will," she said. She waved and smiled at him when she and her parents walked to the Underground to take the train back home, and Remus waved back until she was gone. He felt like he'd do anything, just to keep her happy.

Number twelve, Grimmauld Place was as dark and gloomy as it had ever been. Merely entering the house put a damper on Remus' spirits. He tiptoed through the hall, past Mrs Black's portrait and to the kitchen.

To his annoyance, he found Sirius sitting there, doing nothing except being chagrined. Normally, before their fight, Remus would have tried to cheer his friend up. But right now, he just couldn't make himself to care.

Sirius looked up. "Oh, it's you," he said disinterestedly.

"Yeah. Any news?"

"Nothing of any real interest." Sirius picked up the Daily Prophet that had been lying before him on the table and held it in the air. Remus took it from him.

"Thanks." He made to walk out of the kitchen again.

"That's it, huh?" Sirius said sarcastically. "I'm just the paperboy now?"

"Goodbye Sirius," Remus said coolly. He ignored whatever Sirius did next and walked all the way up to his bedroom, where he sat down on his bed to read the newspaper. He would have preferred to read it downstairs at the table, but not now Sirius was there.

Sirius had been right, there was nothing interesting in the newspaper, but Remus spend the rest of the evening reading it anyway. When he had pretty much spelled everything down to the last advertisement, he took a pencil and started filling in the crossword. Anything to keep him from having to go downstairs. He was secretly hoping Sirius would go to bed early this evening, but he knew Sirius always stayed up late, usually until well after midnight.

It didn't seem like Sirius was going to change his habits this night. It was almost half past twelve and he still hadn't come upstairs. Remus argued with himself for a while on whether he was going to go to bed now or go downstairs to get something to eat, but finally decided on the latter. An angry Sirius wasn't going to keep him away from food.

Sirius was still in the kitchen, but he wasn't angry – far from it, in fact. He looked up when Remus entered the kitchen, an agitated expression on his face as he held out a letter. "Kingsley send a message," he said. "Umbridge has asked for Aurors to come and help her sack Hagrid."

"What?" Remus took the letter from Sirius and quickly read it. Kingsley himself hadn't been asked to help this time, but five of his colleagues had, and he had had the luck to overhear where they were going and what they were going to do. Umbridge wanted to sack Hagrid at night, so as to keep the rest of the school from noticing until the next morning, when it was already too late. She had asked for Auror assistance because she was afraid to go to Hagrid all by herself – after all, who knew what such a half-creature could do when angered?

"That foul bitch," Sirius said, and Remus didn't object to the description.

"Does Dumbledore know?" he asked.

"I bet he does. Dumbledore always knows things before anyone else does."

Remus didn't bother to try and figure out if Sirius meant this in a bitter way – what Sirius thought of Dumbledore was not his problem. "I suppose Umbridge trying to get rid of Hagrid was inevitable," he said, "but I hadn't expected her to do it in such a sneaky way."

Sirius snorted. "I bet she was in Slytherin when she attended Hogwarts."

"That's an insult to the Slytherins," Remus stated quietly. To his surprise, Sirius smiled – apparently his dislike of Remus didn't go as far as his amusing comments.

"I guess that once again we can only wait," he said. "Butterbeer?"

"I'd much rather have something to eat," Remus said carefully. He wasn't sure how long this sudden niceness was going to last.

Sirius nodded and quickly prepared a small dinner. Remus ate and Sirius sat watching them as the minutes ticked away. Neither of them felt like sleeping, they were much too anxious to get tired.

It was almost two o'clock when a burst of fire suddenly appeared in mid-air. A folded piece of parchment, sealed and all, fell from it. Sirius had snatched it away before it even hit the table. He tore the seal open and quickly read its contents.

"It's from Dumbledore," he said.

"What does he write?" Remus wanted to know, anxiously leaning forward.

"He writes that Hagrid has been sacked, but he managed to get away, and he's gone into hiding too. Umbridge wasn't able to take him down, but – oh bloody hell."

"What?" Remus said sharply.

Sirius looked up, horrified. "They hit McGonagall with four Stunners at the same time, straight at the chest."

For a moment, it seemed like Remus was hit with a Stunning spell himself. "Four at the same time?" he asked incredulously. "That's… I have no words for it. Outrageous."

Sirius read the letter again. "It says that she hasn't died," he read aloud, "but Pomfrey says it doesn't look good, the heart's beating too faintly and irregularly, and she's afraid she may have to send McGonagall to St Mungo's tomorrow."

"I just can't believe it," Remus said. "It's… okay, it's something I'd expect Umbridge to do, but five Aurors too? You'd think they wouldn't attack an innocent woman."

But Sirius had just realised something else, and he looked at Remus, wide-eyed. "Do you know what this means?" he said. "In one night, Umbridge managed to take out both Hagrid and McGonagall. Two members of the Order at Hogwarts, gone. Just like that."

Remus immediately realised the implications of that. "Now she can pretty much do as she wants. I think she's delighted that McGonagall's out of the way now – she was getting too much of a nuisance."

"Yeah," Sirius said pensively. Then another realisation hit him, one that shocked him even more. "Oh Merlin. Now there's nobody left to look after Harry."

"Snape will look after him, I'm sure," Remus said, the tone of his voice warning Sirius not to start shouting about that again.

Amazingly enough, Sirius kept his temper for once. He only gave an incredulous snort and said: "do you really think old Sniv– "

Remus glared.

"Alright, Snape, will really do something like that?"

"If there's nobody else left to do it, yes, he will," Remus said firmly. "He's not so horrible as to leave Harry completely to his own devices."

To his surprise and relief, Sirius didn't actually argue this. Instead, he seemed to be trying to convince himself that Remus was right, that Snape would actually have enough decency in him to help Harry if he really had to. He didn't state directly that Remus could be right, but Remus knew Sirius would never do that anyway, so he might as well take his silence for it.

"I really wish I was at Hogwarts now," Sirius said eventually.

"That makes both of us," Remus agreed.

The clock struck three, making them both jump – they hadn't realised it was this late already.

"I think it's about time we get to bed," Remus suggested.

"Yeah," Sirius said obediently. "Let's hope tomorrow brings good news."

They walked up the stairs in silence, each lost in his own thoughts. When they arrived on the landing that lead to their rooms, Remus turned around to Sirius.

"Well, goodnight," he said.

"Um," Sirius said. Remus waited, an amused smile on his face. It wasn't often that Sirius was lost for words.

"What?" he said.

"Err," Sirius stuttered on. "Look. About Harry. And – and Snape." He seemed to be having trouble saying the proper name, but he said it nonetheless, Remus noted. "Listen."

"Yes?" Remus said encouragingly.

Sirius began pacing. "It's… you said that… you know, that Harry would be protected. Right? And you're sure, right?"

"Certainly."

"And… about a few weeks ago. Perhaps… there was a little too much shouting, and one of us didn't think everything he said all the way through, and maybe – "

"Sirius, if you're sorry, you can just say so."

"I never said I was," Sirius said defensively. "It's just that, um…"

"Listen," Remus said. "As amusing as it is to listen to you stuttering away – and trust me, it's the most fun I've had in months – I'm also getting really tired, so why don't we just accept that I was right and you were being an idiot and call it a night?"

"Um. Okay." Sirius seemed to be relieved at this chance to get away with it without actually saying that he had been wrong, so he made no objections.

"Goodnight, then," Remus said, and wanted to walk into his room.

"Err, Moony, wait?"

Remus rolled his eyes and turned around again. "Now what? I already know you're sorry. Apologies accepted."

"No, it's just…" Sirius took a deep breath and seemed to brace himself. "Can… Err. You know, I'm really stressed out now and worried. Can I…"

"Have some chocolate?" Remus began suggesting. "Warm milk? Tea? A goodnight kiss? A bedtime story?"

"Stop making fun of me," Sirius glared. Remus couldn't help himself – he grinned.

"Alright, I'll stop. What do you want?"

"Can I sleep in your room tonight? It's… Buckbeak is lousy company when you're worried." Sirius grinned shyly.

"Um. Okay, I suppose." Remus once again turned to walk into his room, but turned back to Sirius immediately. He raised a finger warningly. "Oh, remember that thing about your side and my side of the bed? That still stands."

"The no pillow fights too?" Sirius asked.

"Especially the no pillow fights."

They got inside Remus' room and made themselves ready to go to bed. Sirius first had to get a stack of books off of his side of the bed, but eventually they were ready to sleep. Remus clicked out the light, and the room was suddenly utterly dark.

"Hey Moony?" came Sirius' voice through the darkness.

"Hm?" Remus said sleepily.

"If I start having funny dreams – "

"If you start having funny dreams, you just wake me up and I'll shout at you, and then you'll only have nightmares about me yelling at you again, which isn't funny in the least. Can I go sleep?"

"Yes," Sirius said. He was lying on his back, his hands folded on his stomach, looking at the ceiling. He couldn't see it, but he could imagine it, white, with a silver candelabra in the middle. He imagined a sky full of stars instead.

A slow, steady breathing on his left told him that Remus had fallen asleep. He turned his head, but could only rather feel than see his friend. No doubt Remus was curled up in a foetal position now, his hands near his face, his mouth slightly open and smiling. Moony.

He sighed and rolled on his left side, his face towards Remus' back. He curled up, just like his friend, but he couldn't sleep – he was staring into darkness to where he knew Remus was.

He was immensely lucky that he had him for a friend, and he knew it. He doubted there was anybody alive right now who knew him as well as Remus did. Half a word was enough for his friend to understand him – even less: half a stutter was enough for him. Sirius was relieved that Remus was his friend again; the past weeks had been awfully lonely, and he hadn't wanted to confess it. He wondered if he was even capable of asking for help – it seemed like the hardest thing to do in the world.

After all, Blacks don't ask for help.