Disclaimer: Thank you to JK Rowling for allowing us to play with her creations.

A/N: Sorry this took me so long!I had a bit of writer's block and I wanted to make this chapter longer. Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed. I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

Chapter 2:

Prongs and I watched the exchange in the hospital wing with great interest. The dialogue was all that Moony is not: loud, obvious, and spontaneous. And I believe I laughed out loud when I saw Remus's dumbstruck face. Of course, you can't be friends with James and me for so many years without at least being able to react quickly. And so he responded as promptly as he had to the famed dungbomb attack of our sixth year with all that "too poor, too old, and too dangerous" rubbish. I mean, somebody give the man a violin and stab him with the bow!

I admit, now, I am a romantic at heart. I want the best for our Moony. And so I'll explain what should have happened: He should have run after, on to some windswept field on Hogwarts' grounds. She would have turned, instinctively knowing of his approach. "I don't care!" she would begin again, "I don't care!" But this time he would not protest. He would pull her roughly towards him and kiss her right there.

And I'll tell you, those Hogwarts fields aren't uncomfortable. And the grass allows for plenty of privacy. I would know. And I think it would have been admirable for Lupin to have just wrapped it up right then.

But no, not for our tragic hero! No, Professor Lupin immediately flooed home to Grimmauld Place. Right, good choice there, Moony. I mean, if you're going to pick a location for brooding, the House of Black is the way to go. No cheery feelings can stay in my ancestral home for too long. And there he sat, in the library, of course, with some muggle book in his lap, dozing in a chair. Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. The greatest drama of his life—love, denial, pain—and he dozes. With a roll of the eyes and a nodd, James and my intervention began.

Now, here I have to break in. Inspired by Moony's lack of effort and rather girlish retreat (alright, Lily! Not girlish, then. Merely weak), I was ready to move in and bluntly attack Lupin with some unsentimental logic. All plans were, as far as I was considered, a go. However, let it never be said that Sirius Black does not have a flair for the dramatic. The man's a regular Shakespeare.

Mr. Black insisted that we did things, as he says, "the proper way." And I asked him, since he's so knowledgeable and has been up here for so long, what "the proper way" exactly is.

"Well, I'll tell you James, you can't just swoop down there and say, 'Moony old man, gain some gall and get the girl, would you?"

"Why not?"

"Would your romance with Lily have been nearly as epic worthy had it not had the theatrical quality of her constant rejection?"

"She didn't constantly reject me…"

"Not the point, James. We have to wait till midnight."

"Midnight?"

"Yes. And we have to drop a few hints. Warnings for our poor living friend, if you will."

"Oh come off it, Padfoot. Warnings?"

"Yes. And we can't go down all at once. First I'll get a chance with him and then you and then perhaps—"

"Why do you get to go first?"

"Because, I will lead by example, Prongs, since you obviously have no idea how this "ghost from the tormented past" thing works. Didn't you read the Brontes? Or at least Dickens!"

"Fine, fine. We'll do it your way, Sirius."

Now, I don't want you, reader, to think I'm some kind of pushover. Ordinarily, I wouldn't give into Sirius's ridiculous schemes. Well, ok, I would, but with some modifications of my own which would turn up the effectiveness and tone down the needless risk of the dramatic. But Sirius's plan allowed me some time alone with my old friend— and a chance to make up for Sirius's certain insanity which would surely taint his visit and his advice.

Midnight finally came to London and Sirius appeared beside me in full angel get-up: wings, robes, halo, and that shimmery stuff.

"Borrowed it from Gabriel," was his only offer of an explanation, "He's a good sort."

Then, Sirius turned to me with that trademark toothy smirk of his and suddenly, we were in our fourth year, about to fill McGonagall's hat with cat nip.

"You just watch and learn from the master, Prongs. I'll get this done, easy."

I was quite sure it would not get done and it would not be easy, but I did not say so. Because, at least, Sirius's visit would be amusing.

Remus Lupin slept fitfully in the large, dragon skin armchair in the Black's old library. For once, even Hardy had failed to put him to sleep and so he dozed, thinking of one Nymphadora Tonks. Of course he thought of Tonks. He thought of little else lately. He had day dreams like any other poor lovesick fool. He imagined he and Tonks strolling down Diagon Alley, now restored, as crowds around them rejoiced the fall of Voldermort. He dreamed they knew for sure that he was gone—that the uncertainty of the first war was not there. He fantasized that Arthur Weasley was the new minister, that he could work again, that he could marry…

However, unlike most lovesick fools, Remus Lupin had no hope of any of these dreams ever coming true. From experience, he knew that any small victory was accompanied by great loss. And he feared finding out the regrettable consequences of allowing Tonks completely into his life and into his heart.

Bosh, the whole load of it. And this is where I come in. And so with a flick of the wrist, I set things in montion. Just as the last "BONG!" of the clock rang out, a song began softly playing on the wizard radio, "… I'll see you on the dark side of the moon…"

"Bloody hell!" Lupin shook himself awake suddenly, stood up, and moved quickly to turn off the music. But when he returned to his chair, he did not find Hardy waiting for him.

"The Call of the Wild! What?"

And then, as the radio again swells with the melodic tune of Peter and the Wolf, Remus's so-called infinite patience began to wear thin.

"What in Merlin's name is going on? Tonks? Are you here?"

Then ladies and gentlemen, in a stroke of particular genius on my part, a large book hits Remus on the back of the head, knocking him back into his chair. The tome falls open to a very important page.

"Beauty and the Beast?"

And now for my appearance. "Read the page, Moony!" I say in a loud, authoritative tone. I really would have made an excellent prefect. Or at least I would have sounded like one.

Moony, in his confusion, obeys me without thinking, "And they lived happily ever after." He sits there for a moment, pondering the meaning of the words, when the situation finally sinks in.

I've never heard Remus John Lupin use so many obscenities in such a short amount of time, but the string of blasphemies end in one deep breath and then, "Sirius!"

"Indeed, old friend," I smirk, "I have returned!"

"What? But why? You're, you're dead!"

"Sadly, yes," I admit, "However, my dear Moony! You need my wisdom and my assistance!" He looks at me blankly and I prepare to begin my grand monologue which will surely convince him of his own stupidity and persuade him to admit his feelings for my cousin.

"Remus, a man only gets one opportunity to—"

"Sirius, is that glitter?"

Damn him. "That's beside the point, Lupin. We have to get right down to the heart of the matter which is that—"

"And do you usually wear those wings around? They seem rather superfluous if you can just appear places. Are they just for show?"

"Lupin, I'm trying to tell you—"

The insufferable man, he grins evilly, "They are just for show aren't they? Always trying to impress with appearances, Padfoot."

Honestly, I'm dead and Dumbledore's, well, whatever. He's supposed to be heartbroken and the man is questioning my wings?

"Remus, focus!" I command. Remus settles back into his chair, still looking bloody smug, folds his hands together and looks at me with a quizzical brow, granting me permission to continue.

"Thank you," I say, straightening up and authoritatively holding my hands behind my back. "Now, Lupin, I am here to tell you that I think it's high time that you admitted your feelings for Tonks—"

He looks amused. And that is never a good situation. Here I am, Sirius Black, back from the dead, with an obviously important and wise message to give, and Remus Lupin is amused.

"No, really?" he asks. And then he chuckles, a little manically if you ask me. And suddenly I wonder if appearing back in Remus's life was such a good idea considering his mental state.

"Yes really," I answer, deciding to press on is best. "Now Lupin, here's what you need to do. Just go straight to her flat right now. I know it's raining. Don't bother with an umbrella or anything. You'll be apparating so you won't be outside long. Just march up and knock on her door and I'm sure—"

I look back at Lupin. His smirk has turned into a full blown wolfish grin, more like a baring of the teeth. Not good. Apparently, the wings are not as impressive as I thought.

"You're sure?" he laughs, the grin not reaching his eyes. "You're sure? I'm so glad you know what I should do to secure the happiness of the woman I love, Sirius, because I know you have such a high regard for the feelings of women. You were so good to your loves, Sirius. You protected them? You honored them?"

Oh so he hit on that, has he? Low, Moony, very low indeed.

"Remus, you're the one who's hurting someone here."

"Now that is something you'd know about, Sirius. Hurting people. Pain. Something we all know a lot about, I'm afraid."

Now he's waxing philosophic. Just bloody great. I'm the one who's supposed to be making a wise sermon here, but there's no stopping Remus when he gets on these discourses of his. You should have heard how he'd preach on about Arithmancy when we were in school. God, if you thought Binns is boring—

"Look, Lupin, I may have broken my fair share of hearts, but first of all, it is not my fault that I am dead good looking—"

"You mean, just dead."

"And I never cared for a woman as much as you care for Tonks. I never had a chance to. By the time I had matured enough I was also a convicted criminal."

"That's just it Sirius! That's just it." Lupin crumples in his armchair, his bitter, harsh expression gone. "I am a werewolf. And at any full moon, I could disappear, just like you did, like James did. I know what it feels like to lose the people who mean the most. Sirius, I lost you twice! And I never, ever want Tonks to feel that pain. She should never feel that loneliness."

Remus looks so helpless and for the moment I'd no idea what to do. I can't promise him security or permanent happiness. Gods, do I know how fleeting life is. I was ready to try to begin another beautiful, theatrical homily, which I'm sure would have finally convinced him, when I heard a "pop" at my side.

"Excellent, Padfoot, looks like you've got our Casanova here quite prepared to charm the lady."

Remus didn't even look up. "Dear Merlin, please. What can you possibly be doing here?"

Prongs stood up straighter and fixed Moony with a purposeful look. "I'm here to try where Sirius has failed, Remus. You're a logical man so I'll give you a logical argument." Ha! James Potter, logical! This coming from the man who figured toad legs would work just as well in a potion requiring frog legs if you balanced it out be replacing bitter root with sugar cane.

"Well, what's the difference between toads and frogs anyway?" he has asked.

"I suppose frogs are nicer looking."

"Exactly, Padfoot, and the sugar cane will put the nice back into the potion, you see? Snivellus himself wouldn't have thought of it."

No, I'm sure he wouldn't have.

Instead of creating a laughing potion, James wheezed for a week.

I believe Moony smirked through that episode as well.