A/N: This chapter is dedicated to - and is all the fault of - Joey Potter, who drew me a wonderful, wonderful picture of chapter three, and thus inspired Inspiration to get off its fat lazy ass and let me write this chapter.

I'm almost positive that I took a line from someone's story in this chapter, but I don't know where it came from. The stories all get mixed up in my mind, and then when I write their influence comes out without me noticing...and I'm pretty sure this time the line is from a story. I'll do my best to fix it if anyone objects.

Disclaimer: Not mine! J.K. Rowling's! Bow to her, for she is Awesome.

The time of the full moon is an almost magical time, children. More magical than any other night of the year. More magical, more symbolic...and more deadly. The full moon brings a change; the dying of old things, and new things beginning. It is the turning point, the time when everything changes.

The things that happen in the story I will tell you tonight did not happen in the full moon, but they are like the full moon in many ways. This is the turning point. This was the time that set the stage for everything that happened ever afterwards. We've had the buildup; it is time for the climax. So be quiet, get comfortable in front of the fire, and listen closely.

Remus hated mornings. He just did. At night, he didn't have to think. He could close his eyes in the darkness, where everything was quiet and hidden, and go to sleep, and nothing would matter anymore. He didn't have to worry about anything, because he wasn't awake to worry. All his fears, all his worries, just melted away, melted into the thick blackness, the blackness that covered him and enfolded him and hid him away from the world, from the cruel daylight. The horrors that followed him constantly during the day were no more...there was nothing but sleep, beautiful innocent sleep.

But in the morning, when he opened his eyes and let the daylight come flooding in, his thoughts began to solidify...that was what he hated. His mind, fuzzy and dreamy from sleep, would begin to wake up, and with consciousness came sorrow, and the sorrow and the worry was what Remus hated most. When his mind got back into that sharp, clean, aware state, his troubles came rushing back in full force.

It was especially bad today, as the headlines came rushing back. And with the headlines, came the memories. The faces of James and Lily; James laughing, Lily laughing, James running after Lily, Lily holding Harry yesterday, and the day before that. When Remus opened his eyes, the headlines practically did dances in his head Dumbledore's face swam in front of his eyes, informing him solemnly of what had happened. The words of the articles, which he had memorized almost word for word, came flooding into his mind...it hurt to think about it. He tried to shrink from them, tried to make them leave, but they would not go. And even as he tried to make them go away, there was the shame of wanting them to leave, and it only made it worse.

On this particular morning, Remus was sitting at his table, drinking his tea, hating the morning, and trying not to read the paper because it would remind him of everything again. It was a nice morning, he supposed; it was a little gray, but it was the kind of gray that tried to be gloomy and nasty, but didn't quite succeed. You could tell the sky was trying to be blue, and most likely it would be by noon. But at the moment, it was a nice, solid gray - and it wasn't helping Remus' mood in the least. There was a full moon coming soon, and while it was still a few days away, Remus could already feel himself starting to get off-color.

An owl flew in the window, with a letter tied to its leg. Remus dropped his cup of tea in a furious clatter of dishes, and an extremely wet table, but he didn't notice the table quite so much as the fact that it was Dumbledore's owl. It was kind of sad, that he had learned to recognize it because he had seen it so many times in the last few days, but it was the truth. His heart thudded impatiently; he hadn't heard from Sirius since the attack, and he was deathly afraid of what had happened.

Of course, he supposed he could use the--but no. That was only for emergencies, and in any case it wasn't a big deal; he would hear from Sirius soon enough. Just because he hadn't heard from Sirius recently didn't mean Dumbledore was coming to tell him something had--Remus stopped his thoughts quickly. Not now, not today. Just...no. Calmly, he reached out and untied the letter from the owl's leg.

"Dear Remus," he read,

"I would like you to come and see me as soon as you get this. I have some news for you, and I must tell it to you face to face. You must hurry, Remus. This is urgent. You may Floo into McGonagall's office; she is expecting you. She will tell you the password to my office.

-Albus Dumbledore"

Remus stood up so quickly that the owl fluttered up in surprise, hooting indignantly. He ignored it, and stalked over to the fireplace, throwing a big pinch of powder into the flames. "Professor McGonagall!"

She turned around in a hurry, seeing his head in the fire. "Remus! Oh, good, Dumbledore said you would call. What is it?"

"I...I need to Floo into your office, would you open it up?" Remus' stomach was tightening most unpleasantly, and he was sure his face was white. He tried to stop it, but all the logic in the world could not convince him that nothing was wrong with Sirius. The last time he'd had this feeling, Sirius had almost fallen through the ice in the lake at Hogwarts and died, and now it was even worse, and--wait, McGonagall was saying something, wasn't she?

"Remus? Remus!"

"I--what?"

"I said, I'm about to say the spell. Are you all right? You look pale."

"I'm fine. Just do it, please."

McGonagall nodded, pointing her wand at the fire and muttering something at the flames. This had been Dumbledore's idea to keep people from coming into Hogwarts on the Floo Network unauthorized. He had set up a remarkable system, so that each fire in each Hogwarts office had to be opened by the teacher whose office it was, specifically for one person, and one person only. Only a few people had fires even connected to the Hogwarts Floo Network. It was a good system, and had saved many lives during the war.

All this ran through Remus' head in a split second. He stepped through the fireplace, with the odd feeling that he was having an out-of-body experience. It was like he was watching himself from the outside, saying something to McGonagall, walking numbly down the halls and up to Dumbledore's office...

"Remus! There you are!"

"Yes," said Remus. His throat was tightening unpleasantly. "What's wrong?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I hoped you would have known. It would have made it easier on me."

"It's a full moon in a few days," Remus explained shortly. "I've been feeling--" he stopped short at the look on the other man's face. "Dumbledore--what happened to Sirius?"

Dumbledore started. "How did you know it was--"

"Dumbledore!" Remus was surprised at his own sharpness, but the fact that his stomach was doing a nasty gymnastics routine wasn't helping at all.

The other man sighed wearily, and it suddenly it struck Remus how old he was. He had never really thought of Dumbledore as old--and now he looked old, and world-weary. "We found him, Remus. He was--he went after Peter."

The out-of-body experience feeling intensified. "Peter?"

"He found him on...on a Muggle street, and Peter yelled something about Lily and James, and Sirius pulled out his wand--and the street exploded, and Peter--" Dumbledore swallowed. It was the first time Remus had ever seen him struggle for words, and he hoped with his whole heart it would be the last. "They found his finger," he said, "His little finger. And Sirius--stood there and laughed."

Remus felt his whole world come crashing together in one sickening crunch. He no longer felt like he was watching himself from the outside. Instead, he felt like reality was boring into him, hard and fast. "No..." he gasped.

Dumbledore nodded, and his blue eyes, which normally hid a reassuring twinkle, were dead and sad. "They took him to Azkaban. Without a trial."

"No...that's not...Sirius--couldn't have--"

The older man's eyes closed, as if in pain. "Yes, he did."

"No! Not Sirius!" Remus yelled wildly, his eyes frantic with emotion. "No!"

"Remus..."

Remus felt anger bubbling inside him, anger he had never known before in all his life. He had always been placid and calm--the voice of reason in his friendship circle. But, as always, when the quiet one gets mad, it is worse than anything else. "Don't 'Remus' me, Dumbledore! Sirius would NEVER do that! NEVER!"

"All the evidence points in that direction," Dumbledore said slowly.

"Well the evidence is wrong," Remus snapped. "Goodbye, Dumbledore." He left the office, slamming the door behind him and not noticing the worried look Dumbledore gave him as he left.

Remus went home to his small cabin and stormed around it, his heart and brain caught in a terrible struggle. Memories of Sirius were running through his mind like wildfire. Sirius' eyes lighting up with laughter as he played another prank on Lily...Sirius and James joking around endlessly about Snape...Sirius turning into a dog at the full moon, just to help Remus...Sirius holding Harry gently in his arms, looking at him with an expression almost equal to the one in James' eyes when he looked at his son...Sirius looking distinctly out of place in a tuxedo at James' wedding, as the best man...

Remus looked down at the table, disbelief filling his mind. That just didn't seem like the Sirius he knew. It just didn't. It couldn't be. It was all a joke, Sirius was in on it, it was all a joke, it had to be...

And Peter! Sirius had murdered Peter! Remus' mind swam in disbelief.

"He's Peter," Sirius said, a little dismissively. "We'll be there for him. He'll make it. But he'll be on his own more than he should, you know how his mother is."

Remus shivered. Was that a warning of what was to come? Had Sirius been hinting at something? "NO!" he told himself angrily, "Stop thinking like that!" But he couldn't help it. His brain reeled backwards in time, through memories of Sirius, memories of Peter, looking for clues to point at this weird, unexpected behavior.

Peter! It was all too much! No, Dumbledore had to be wrong, Remus decided. Sirius simply couldn't do that. Yes, he got angry, yes he had a temper, but Sirius would never kill anyone...would he? NO, he wouldn't. He loved life, loved it too much. How many times had he seen Sirius make fun of Snape and Malfoy and their gang? And everyone with an ounce of sense knew they were Death Eaters. Sirius would never go over to them, never in a million years...would he?

It didn't seem possible, but doubts filled Remus' find nonetheless. He hadn't seen Black for a while, maybe he had...Remus tried to keep the suspicions out, but they came in. Maybe Sirius had gone over to Voldemort. Maybe, maybe, maybe. There was a spy, wasn't there? Maybe it was Sirius. He had seemed distant in the past few days, avoiding Remus whenever possible. Maybe...

"No," Remus told himself again, "I won't believe it. I WON'T!"

...Or would he? Doubts filled his mind like a poison. Maybe he hadn't known Sirius as well as he thought he had. Maybe it was all a fake. An act. Remus sighed, feeling betrayed. Betrayed and lonely...so lonely. A tear trickled down his cheek, in spite of himself...and then, without warning, he sat down, buried his head on the table and cried. Cried for the first time since he was six years old, let the tears, the stress, the betrayed feeling, spill out all over his arms onto the table and out of his soul. It wouldn't erase the pain, but it would ease it, for now.

Darkness. Blackness. ...Blackness. There was something about the word "black." What was it? He didn't know. He couldn't think. He could feel his brain just...deteriorating, already. It wasn't gone yet, but it would be. If he could have laughed hollowly, he would have. But he couldn't. He could only sit there in the darkness.

It was so dark in Azkaban at night. So dark. Darkness crept in on you, enfolded you, stifled you til you couldn't breathe and the air was thick with memories, dark memories and blackness so black you could cut it with a knife.

Lily! James! I didn't mean it! I didn't! It's all my fault, and I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it, forgive me, I didn't mean it...it was Peter...

Peter. Stinking rat. But he couldn't blame it on him, it was all his own fault, and...

Wait. Rat.

Rat. Rat...rat? RAT!

WOLF!

Remus! Remus, I didn't mean it, you think I did it, you think I betrayed them, I didn't, I didn't, but I did! "Remus!"

The last word came out as a desparate, hollow cry, that rang out in the darkness but didn't break it, made it thicker, made it blacker..."Remus," he whispered, his throat choking up.

You think I did it, you think it's my fault, you hate me, you hate me, how can you hate me, I didn't do it, but I did, I'm so sorry, don't hate me, Remus, I didn't mean it, I didn't mean it Moony, I didn't mean it, Prongs...

Wait. Moony. Prongs. JAMES! James, I didn't mean it...I'm so sorry...

Sirius shook his head, trying to clear it, trying to shove the guilt, the pain and the sorrow out of the way, so he could remember what was so important about "wolf."

Wolf...rat...FILTHY rat, but it's not all his...no, stop that...stag...JAMES! I didn't mean it! I...no!...what was the other one? DOG! Dog, dog, what was the thing about dogs, why...

With a pop, Sirius became Padfoot.

Dog thoughts were easier than human thoughts. Less guilt. Animals didn't understand guilt.

Before, seeing in black and white had bothered Sirius a bit, not being able to see a color. But it didn't matter now. Everything was black anyway.

Wait. Not all black. His dog eyes were sharper than human eyes, and they caught a glint of light from the wall.

Wall. Window. Night. Darkness...MOON! Padfoot almost gave a yelp of surprise, but he caught himself. Moon, Moony, WOLF. Wait...moon. Wolf. Moon, wolf...it was a full moon! It wouldn't be that bright if it wasn't.

Suddenly, a loneliness more intense than he had ever felt before filled Padfoot's small, doggish heart. The wolf was gone. Where was the wolf? Padfoot ran around in circles, feeling like his stomach had just dropped out of him. Moony should be here! Where was Moony? He was alone...alone...so alone...Padfoot tilted back his head and howled, a long, mournful howl that could be heard miles away across the icy river surrounding the island.

And, somewhere, far away, another howled answered it, even longer and more mournful than the first.

With a few helpless grunts, Padfoot turned around three times, lay down on the cold stone floor and put his head between his paws. Just before his eyes close and he drifted off into a fitful, unpleasant sleep, one more thought crossed his mind; the first coherent one he'd had in weeks.

My name is Sirius Black, and I am innocent.

Remus rolled over in bed, groaning heavily. God, that had been painful. He hadn't had such a painful transformation since he had been going through puberty. Sunlight was streaming through his windows, and a glance at the clock told him it was noon. "Ah, the joys of being unemployed," he thought bitterly. Well, there was no use hiding from it. He had to get up; once Remus was awake, nothing short of tranquilizers could put him back to sleep. With another groan and a valiant attempt to get out of bed without making anything hurt more - this last failed miserably - he got to his feet and began pulling on his robes.

Ten minutes later, he had decided that being awake was highly overrated. So was breakfast. Usually he was starving after such a long and painful transformation, but today there seemed to be a lump in his stomach that made it impossible to swallow his eggs and sausage; and it didn't take a genius to know why. Feeling sick, he shoved the plate away, downed some orange juice and went to get his cloak. He needed a walk. A long walk.

He had wandered aimlessly in the woods for about twenty minutes before he realized which direction he was heading in. Yes, he knew where he was going...with a sigh, he Apparated quickly to the spot. There was no use avoiding it, and walking would have taken him hours; no, he might as well get this over with while he still could.

Though he knew what his eyes would be met with, Remus still winced at the sight of the charred house. His stomach surged with hate, but he wasn't sure whom it was directed to. Voldemort and the Death Eaters would have been the easy answer, but now he was afraid he might have to extend that to Sirius...and he WOULDN'T! He couldn't hate Sirius. He would never hate Sirius. Feel betrayed by him, maybe. But not hate. NOT hate.

Shaking his head to clear it, Remus began a half-hearted inspection of the grounds. He knew there would be none of their possessions left; the papers had said as much. He was half surprised to find so little press there, but he assumed that this was partly the work of Dumbledore, and partly because the story had lost some of its novelty...not all of it, but some. But even though he knew his search was fruitless, something told him to keep going.

For a while he saw nothing but scorched grass and mud. He was just about to give up his search and go home when a silver-colored glint caught his eye.

Automatically, he reached for the chain around his neck. It didn't have an ounce of silver in it, but was a silver colored metal...and if his guess was right, the chain lying on the ground, half covered by grass, was of the same metal.

Cautiously, he bent down to inspect it, without touching it. He couldn't take any chances. Then he gasped aloud and lifted up the chain. "Oh, Sirius..." he murmured softly. Dumbledore had told him that Sirius had been there, the night Hagrid had come to take Harry away. He must have dropped it then. Why, Remus could only guess. Had he known he was going to Azkaban? Had he left it as a symbol of their forgotten friendship? Or had it simply slipped from his fingers?

Even though he knew exactly what the necklace was, he studied it intently. On the silver chain hung a small charm, flat on the bottom and rounded on the top, just as the sky appeared when you looked up and saw it over the earth, perfectly bowl-shaped. In between the rounded glass on top and the flat bottom, Remus could make out several silver dots hanging in midair, in the perfect shape of the constellation Canis Major.

"They're not even in the sky at the same time," Sirius was saying, as if thinking aloud, "Canis Major in the winter, and Lupus in the summer. Totally different times. I wonder what that means?"

"Oh, well," Remus said with a smile, "We're not exactly far apart, are we? Same school, same dorm, same classes..."

"I wonder what it means, though. Will we be so far apart in the future? What if--Remus, what if something happens to us? All of us? Something that splits us apart?"

"Then that would be exactly what Voldemort wants," said Remus, his voice heavy. "I-Padfoot, you don't think-we're the only ones in the sky, what if we're the only ones left but we're separated and--"

Sirius shuddered. "That's scary, Moony."

Remus shivered, the bright sun suddenly feeling cold as if it was December instead of early November. Scary, indeed. Sirius hadn't known how right he was.

With a sigh, he drew out his own, identical amulet...identical except for the fact that the constellation was Lupus. The amulets had been his own idea; it had been something Sirius said that inspired him to do it, and while Sirius complained about the fact that it was sissy, Remus knew he wore it always, under loose robes so that no one could see it. And anyway, he had done his best to make the chain look...well, manly.

"Cave Canes, Remus," Sirius reminded him, "We'll always be there, in the sky, no matter where we are in real life."

"Cave canes," Remus muttered to the amulet, pointing his wand at it. Instantly, the picture in it shifted to show the most depressing picture of Sirius he had ever seen. He was leaning against a wall, his hair matted and tangled, his clothes torn and raggedy...but the worst part wasn't his clothes, or his hair, or even the disgusting state of the cell. No...it was the look on his face. Remus felt a lump rise in his throat at the sight. He had never, in all the time he had known Sirius, seen him look like that. Sure, he had been serious or angry sometimes, but most of the time he was laughing...and even if he was being serious, he was still...well, Sirius. The laughter and mischief was always still in his eyes, hidden underneath a mask of seriousness.

But this Sirius was almost scary. He hadn't even been in Azkaban very long, and his eyes were already getting the most deadened, miserable look Remus had ever seen in his life. He shuddered again, and tapped the amulet. The picture went blank, and returned to its usual pattern of stars.

Remus stared at the necklace for a few minutes longer, feeling tears fill his eyes. Sirius...oh, God, it was just too much. He knew Sirius! Sirius wasn't like that!

He looked up at the sky, his eyes falling on the constellation of Canis Major. In his mind's eye, he could see Lupus just as clearly as the real thing. "Just us canines," he whispered softly.

"Cave Canes, Remus," Sirius reminded him, "We'll always be there, in the sky, no matter where we are in real life."

Remus' hand tightened around the necklace, and for a few minutes, he stood there, holding it tightly and strengthening his resolution. Then he put it in his pocket and strode away from the charred remains of Lily and James' house...from the remains of their lives, Harry's life, Sirius' life, Peter's life...even his own life. Once his head was sufficiently clear, he Apparated home.

In his room was the box he had used to hide the amulets from Sirius while he was making them. He looked at it for a few minutes, tracing the carved drawing of a wolf on the lid, then put both of the amulets back in the box, closed it, and locked it tightly with a spell.

As he did, he vowed to himself that he would never open it again.

Peter's nose twitched in the darkness, as he scurried from shadow to shadow under the buildings. Got to keep moving, can't stop, keep going...

A fog was rolling in. He was small, but he could feel it surrounding him, settling on his fur and making it hard to breathe. The world looked so much softer in the fog. Less sharp and dangerous, more fuzzy and magical. His senses were more alert in the fog; he had learned to rely less on sight as a rat anyway, but in the fog he almost didn't use his eyes at all.

It was a Muggle street. He wasn't sure where he was going, but he knew he had to keep going there. The car lights looked so funny in the fog; dangerous, though. He couldn't see them til they were right up behind him, and he had to scamper across the street quickly to keep from being run over. He had only been this way once or twice before, and he was a very small rat; he was terrified of these giant, fast-moving machines.

Peter scurried quickly across the fuzzy glow created by the streetlights, then ducked off the road into the plants to get a breather and recover his nerves, which were a bit shattered by the fast-moving cars. Climbing up a nearby tree, he tried to squint through the fog and get an idea of his surroundings.

The sights were a bit startling. He was in a very different spot. The streets had changed from hard pavement to dirt roads almost instantly, and there were no streetlights. Peter shuddered, ran down from the tree, and scampered through the low-growing plants onto the dirt road.

In the distance, he could see the faint outline of a small, funny looking house. House...Peter quickened his pace and darted up to the sign in front of it. The Burrow. Hmm. What's that? Funny how simple his thoughts were getting. Oh well. No time for that. Got to keep moving. Wait...house. House, house...oh. Faraway memories of warmth, comfort and food came rushing back to him. Food. His stomach rumbled. Hungry!

The doorstep presented itself as a possibility, where a small rat could stay, safe from the fog and mist. Dry. Good enough for now.

As he ducked under the doorstep and curled into a ball, a small plan began forming in the back of Peter's mind. It had finally occurred to him that this was a wizarding house; no Muggle house would look that strange. Stay here. Find out news. Wait.

Wait.

The fog left slowly but surely, and the stars and moon began fading, making way for the bright sun's light. But as the night and fog melted away, another fog rolled in. Not a physical fog, but a mental fog. Slowly but surely, Peter's thoughts became more and more simple.

Wait.

And so Peter waited...waited a long, long time, as did Sirius and Remus...as you will see, next week. I can only tell this one bit at a time. Patience, dears, is a virtue which you must learn or be forced to learn.

Now, go to bed. It's late. Good night, and sweet dreams