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'Often, I wonder how it is

That man can learn so little from a book,

And so much from life.'

- G.F. Coppard

Sinn was curled up in a deep red armchair in his study at the top of the divination tower. His chin was propped up on one hand, his legs curled underneath him, and he was studying the book in front of him with an air of fierce concentration. The fire put a warm glow into his normally pale face and cast a cheerful light around the circular room, throwing out a welcoming wave of heat.

Rain was falling outside the tower in fierce torrents, lashing against the windowpanes and making visibility poor. The wind, too, was howling in a deafening chorus and it wasn't until there was an almighty thud against the glass that Sinn looked up.

A hunched, soaking figure was huddled on a broom outside the office window. Water streamed off its robes at it wobbled precariously, battling against the wind as it thumped the glass again, fist banging desperately as it struggled to stay upright.

"God almighty!" Tossing the book to one side, Sinn leapt to his feet and hurried over. Throwing open the window, he leapt backwards to avoid being drenched as well, as the man on the broomstick landed on the small stone ledge by the window and leapt inside, splattering water as he shook himself briskly. Leaning his broomstick against the wall he grinned at the surprised Divinations professor.

"Sorry to burst in on you like this, Annie sent me."

"Really!" Sinn snapped as he stalked back across the room, opening a cupboard door in search of a towel. "What possessed you to come back out in this weather, if you please?"

"Like I said: Annie sent me."

"Huh." Sinn discovered a towel at the very back of the musty old cupboard and reached for it. Straightening, he turned around and nearly leapt backwards in fright as he came nose to nose with Mars, who merely grinned. "Gods, you're an imbecile sometimes."

"And how many times have I heard that?" Shrugging, Mars accepted the towel and flopped down into the armchair, wincing as his wet clothes stuck to his skin. "Annie wants to know if you'd like to come for dinner on Saturday."

"Depends. Are her children going to be present?"

"Of course."

Sinn grimaced and settled back down into his own armchair. "Mars, I will never understand how you manage to live with those four little miscreants. They're awful. They have no manners and they're rude."

"Oh come on, they're not all bad." Mars lazily flicked a piece of hair – turned a muddy brown from the rain – out of his eyes. "Marta's smart."

"Last time she asked me if I was constipated or if I always looked like that!" Sinn scowled at the memory and picked up his book again. "Face it, your sister has no control over her children, and you're worse than useless."

"Oh go on, please come?" Mars wheedled, plucking his wet shirt away from his chest and eyeing it with distaste. "I came all the way back from Hogsmeade to ask you."

"Your fault, not mine." Sinn sniffed and flipped the book open, intent on picking up where he left off. "If you were stupid enough to comply with your sister's orders, then I have no sympathy for you." Ignoring the scowl his companion shot him, he began reading, immersing himself in the prose.

Mars sighed and unbuttoned his shirt, tossing it to one side. Picking up the old towel, he briskly rubbed himself dry then, conveniently forgetting Sinn's rule of 'Touch Anything And You Die', he threw open the cupboard and pulled out an old set of robes. Pulling them on over his head, he sighed again, this time in content, and sat back down, bare feet tucked up under him.

"Maple's gone to visit Kane," he said at length, when it became obvious that Sinn was going to continue ignoring him.

"Oh?" One black eyebrow arched in mild surprise, although Sinn kept his eyes on the book.

"Mm. Said she wanted to get the proper story, not the hyped up version reported by the Prophet. She never trusts newspapers, you know." Letting his body slip to one side, Mars folded his arms, leaning them on the side of the armchair so that he could study Sinn more easily. "Apparently she's convinced that, despite what that student has said, Kane wouldn't do something like that."

"Really." A noncommittal remark as dark eyes continued to skip lightly over the words.

Mars snorted in disgust, resting his chin on his folded arms. "Oh, you're no fun, Sinn. Where's your curiosity?"

"It's in bed, sleeping." Sinn's gaze didn't waver, but the other teacher caught the faint flicker of grin twisting the corner of lips. "And," he added with a pointed look at Mars, whose wet hair was thoughtfully dripping over the armchair and a rather expensive rug, "that's where I wish to go in a minute."

"You're too young to be living this sixty year old lifestyle!" Mars complained, determined to get a rise out of his companion somehow. "What are you? An old bloke who takes anti-ageing potions?"

"I'm twenty seven as you damn well know." Giving up on the book, Sinn snapped it shut and set it to one side, a frown forming between his dark eyebrows. "Now stop picking on me and tell me why you really came up here in the pouring rain. And no," he said sharply as Mars opened his mouth to interrupt, most probably to protest, "I know Annie sending you up here wasn't the real reason."

His friend sighed. "Damnit, Sinn. I think you know me too well."

"I should by now." Sinn's lips twitched again, but this time he let the expression blossom into a genuine smile. "I've known you near enough five years."

"Eurgh, the one person who will cotton on to all my terrible faults." Mars pulled a sour face then relented. "You're right, I didn't just come up here at Annie's behest." He paused, blue eyes thoughtful. "What do you think of Remus Lupin?"

"Remus?" Sinn's eyebrows rose in mild surprise. "He seems nice enough. Rather quiet, but a good teacher from what I've heard the students saying about him. Why?"

"Well…doesn't he strike you as too young?"

"Oh, honestly, are we going to have that particular argument again?"

"No, no." Mars raised his hands in a defensive gesture. "What I was going to say was that he seems…lonely, don't you think?"

"Lonely? I hadn't really noticed." Sinn pursed his lips thoughtfully and stood up, lazily flicking his wand towards a table on the fireside of the room, calling over two steaming cups of tea. "Although I suppose he must be. It's hard not having anyone your own age."

"Except the students."

"Mm." Handing one of the teacups to his friend, Sinn sat back down. "Well, why don't you invite him to dinner at Annie's as well?"

Mars – who had just taken a sip of tea – choked, spluttered then resorted to coughing loudly as he placed the mug on the ground, cheeks flushing as he struggled for breath. "Y-you want me to invite him to Annie's?" He wheezed at length, still taking huge gulps of air as Sinn watched him calmly. "If that doesn't scar the poor kid for life, I don't know what would! Honestly, he'd think all teachers live with their mad sister, their mad sister's husband and their mad sister's four psychotic little brats!"

"Ah hah! Even you admit their brats!" Sinn exclaimed triumphantly. "But seriously," he continued, as Mars glared at him, his breathing slowly returning to normal, "why not? After all, he doesn't go anywhere at weekends, and it might be nice for him to get outside for a bit."

"Do I detect a charity case coming on?" Mars enquired dubiously.

"Not at all. I merely think it would be nice if Remus had some friends. Let's face facts Mars, the rest of the staff are much older – we're the only ones he'd have even a chance of becoming reasonably close to. Well, maybe not you…old man." Sinn smirked into his teacup as Mars spluttered furiously, his expression warring between indignant and somewhat amused.

"Old man? Old man? I'm not old! Twenty eight, I'll have you know!" Mars sniffed indignantly.

Sinn's brown eyes glittered with suppressed laughter, but he nodded solemnly. "Alright, not so old. But seriously, what do you think? Maybe you should ask Annie if you can invite Remus first."

"I don't need her permission," Mars said, sullenly – clearly still sulking. "It's my house as well."

"Then invite Remus. I think he'd appreciate the gesture." Sinn grimaced. "And maybe he'll be enough entertainment for those horrible children."

"Oh, I see, it isn't a purely good willed act. You just want to sacrifice Lupin to save yourself." Blue eyes rested on Sinn's face thoughtfully, their gaze faintly teasing. "I never realised you were that selfish."

"Selfish? Me?" Sinn raised an eyebrow, folding his arms. "Well, I was going to let you sleep here this evening, since I dreaded to think of you travelling back in that weather on that be-damned broomstick, but since you insulted me…" He scowled, looking down his nose at Mars, who had assumed one of the worst innocent expressions seen in Hogwarts in a long time – including Sirius Black's famous 'It Wasn't Me' look. It even outstripped James Potter's 'Me? Honestly Professor! As If I Would!'

"Oh alright, alright," Sinn grumbled, sinking lower in the armchair and pointedly ignoring Mars's grateful look. "But don't think I'm giving up my bed for you. It's your turn to sleep on the couch, since despite my protestations my own bedroom was taken over last time." He glared balefully at Mars, eyes slitted so that he resembled nothing so much as an angry cat, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Mars simply beamed at him, like a fallen angel.

AaAaAaAa

Frost lay thickly on the ground, cunningly disguised on pavements and settled over grass like snow. It turned flowers into frail, brittle ice sculptures, and decorated trees, making them look as though they had been dusted with icing sugar. It was so cold that clouds of steam hung in front of people's faces as they breathed, and the students of Hogwarts were bundled up tightly in thick winter cloaks, hats, gloves and scarves.

Sinn picked his way delicately across the path that led to Rose Cottage, successfully avoiding the slippery patches, discarded balls and one solitary trainer that was lying, for no apparent reason, by the gate. Sidestepping a large shrub that reached across the path to grab his ankle, he paused and turned to look back at Remus, who was struggling to navigate the same passage and failing miserably.

"You ok?"

"Fine." Remus's breath was coming in quiet gasps as he discovered that walking across icy ground was not as easy as his colleague made it out to be. He paused, watching as Sinn rapped sharply on the front door of the Cottage – which, despite its name, was a large, sprawling house set just outside the village of Hogsmeade. Gritting his teeth, Remus dodged the trainer and had just reached the first step leading up to the door, when it flew open, revealing a girl of about fourteen with thick blonde hair.

She blinked at Sinn then grinned, revealing a fascinating display of multi-coloured teeth, before she wiped her hands on the front of her grubby t-shirt. Throwing her head back and not bothering to close the door first, she howled: "MUUUUUUUUUUM! THE VAMPIRE'S HERE!" Smiling wickedly, she stepped aside as a muffled, answering shout resounded from inside. Gesturing for Remus and Sinn to enter, she ushered them into a light, warm hallway, then strode off, pausing only to tell them to shut the door.

"Janie, Mars's oldest niece," Sinn muttered under his breath to Remus, who blinked, slightly nonplussed and more than a little nervous.

"Right…er. What happened to her teeth?"

"No idea, we'll probably find out later." Grimacing, Sinn peeled off his scarf just as a small, chubby figure came barrelling down the stairs that ended at the other end of the hall. Pausing, it stuck its thumb in its mouth and regarded them both solemnly.

"Ooh a ooh?"

"Take your thumb out of your mouth, Marta, you're not five any more," Sinn said wearily, taking Remus's coat from him and hanging it on a peg. "And you know perfectly well who I am. This is Mr Lupin, though, and he's come for dinner with me."

The child sniffed disapprovingly as both men walked towards her. Scowling, she held out her plump arms to Sinn, sticky face raised demandingly. "Kith, pleathe."

"And don't lisp either, it's not cute, it's irritating," Sinn scolded, but complied nonetheless, picking the small girl up and carrying her towards the kitchen.

Remus trailed after him, feeling remarkably like a third wheel. Mars had approached him yesterday about coming to Hogsmeade for dinner with his family and, at the time, it had seemed like a good idea. Wanting to escape the castle grounds for a while, and fearful to do so lest he encounter Sirius, he had been contemplating a weekend alone. Now, however, he wasn't so sure.

Sinn seemed to know the family remarkably well and despite his sour comments on the way down, he obviously held some kind of affection for them. Seeing this just made Remus feel worse, however, because he knew nobody, really, and the closeness of this odd family and one of his work colleagues made him feel ill at ease. Perhaps, he reasoned, as Sinn pushed open a door and preceded him into a large, warm kitchen filled with fragrant smells, this is what his life would be like in several years time. He would live at Hogwarts, but know people within the village – families – a life that he could never have, only experience as an outsider.

Sinn had deposited Marta on the kitchen table and was talking to a tall, serious looking man in one corner of the room. By the huge old-fashioned kitchen range, two twin boys were playing exploding snap and trying their best to trip up Mars, who had been forced into making a salad to go with the meal. To Mars's right a tall, dark haired woman was handling pots with quick efficiency and scolding the boys in between.

"Honestly 'Meade, can't you two go and play in the sitting room? You're getting under my feet. Look! You nearly tripped your uncle up! Get out of here! Now!" Flapping a tea towel at them, she waited until they had fled the room before turning to Remus, a smile gracing her face. "Oh, hello, sorry I didn't introduce myself. Annie Fogarty-Davies." Wiping a flour-streaked hand on her apron, she held it out, beaming as Remus shook it. "Sinn and Mars have told me all about you," she continued, turning back to the oven, stirring frantically. "I must say it's nice to meet you at last."

"Annie," Sinn called from where he was talking to the tall man, "make sure Mars isn't eating the tomatoes."

Mars, who was doing just that, swallowed quickly and glared at Sinn as Annie scolded him, turning her attention away from Remus in favour of removing the salad from harm's way. Left to his own devices, Remus stood at the edge of the kitchen and swallowed nervously. He was not normally so worried about meeting new people, but this family just seemed so… comfortable with one another. Even Sinn, who was trying to pry Marta from his leg, was smiling.

"Are you a ghost?" An enquiring voice sounded out of nowhere, making Remus jump in surprise. Looking down, he caught the level gaze of one of the twin boys, who folded his arms defiantly across his chest and repeated the question.

"No, I'm not a ghost." Remus felt himself smiling, in spite of his awkwardness. "If I were, you'd be able to see through me, wouldn't you?"

"Maybe…but maybe you're a special ghost." The boy looked disbelieving. "Maybe we can't see through you because of that."

"But I'm not a ghost."

"But we wouldn't be able to tell, and you are awfully pale…even paler 'n the vampire." The boy jerked his head at Sinn.

Remus blinked, unsure whether this was meant to be a warped kind of compliment, or merely proof of his undead state. "Really. Well I can assure you, I'm quite solid." He held out a hand to the boy, who poked it dubiously. "See? Solid. Not a ghost I'm afraid."

"Hm." The boy glared at him disapprovingly. "Would have been better if you were a ghost." He brightened, suddenly. "We have a ghost in the attic. Grandma Bea – she makes an awful lot of noise at night sometimes. Wailing and carrying on. Me 'n Pol went up there once to ask her why. She said it was because she'd been told that that's what ghosts were supposed to do. But Pol talked her into not wailing quite so loud on weeknights." He smiled, proudly. "That's because we have school and need our rest."

Remus was saved from answering this little lecture, however, by a loud explosion from the sitting room, followed by a loud stream of curses in a high pitched, childish voice.

"POL!" Annie bellowed, wheeling and striding across the kitchen floor. "YOU WATCH YOUR LANGUAGE!" She stormed out of the room, leaving Mars in charge of watching the boiling carrots.

"Come outside," the young boy pleaded suddenly, as Remus stared after Annie, his expression surprised. "I'll show you the garden."

"I'd go with him," the tall man interjected. "He can be quite stubborn when he takes a liking to someone, and he seems to like you." He smiled as the boy grinned, clearly delighted. "Just make sure you don't get grubby before dinner, 'Meade," he added, and his son nodded fervently.

"Come on, come on." Tugging on Remus's hand, 'Meade pulled the protesting werewolf back down the hallway and out the front door. "I'll show you me and Pol's hideout," he promised, kicking the trainer off the step and slamming the front door of Rose Cottage behind him. "It's wicked. It's all hidden so that Janie and Marta can't find it." He beamed up at Remus, even as Annie's shouting floated outside. "Come on," he repeated, glancing warily over one shoulder. "Before mum decides I had something to do with it."

"To do with what?" Remus asked, amused.

"Oh…nothing." 'Meade's gaze slid away. "Pol…er…never mind." He smiled, innocently. "Ask me another question instead, one that I can answer. Is that a fair trade?"

"It is." Remus smiled as he was led across the whitened lawn. "Alright…hmm. Why do you call Sinn a vampire?"

"Oh that's easy," 'Meade said scornfully, tugging aside some bushes near the front of the garden. "Janie started that. She said it was because his face was so pale, his hair was so black and he never looks any older. It's not the truth, it's just a nick knack."

"Nickname," Remus corrected him gently, then crouched down as 'Meade crawled into the bushes before turning and peering back at him.

"Yeah, that. Now see, through here is our den. Only you can't tell anyone. Got it?"

"Got it."

Out here in the fresh air, with a small inquisitive boy who in no way had an adult-like attitude, Remus was beginning to feel more at ease. It was clear, even to him, that he got along with 'Meade and that the boy was clearly fascinated by the concept of an adult who didn't talk down to him. Taking a deep lungful of cool winter air, Remus grinned as 'Meade crawled back out of the bushes, bringing with him a magical catapult that his mother didn't know he had.

Laughing, Remus promised not to tell Annie and 'Meade, satisfied, stowed the catapult back amongst the bushes. Feeling like nothing could spoil his good mood, the young teacher stood up, wincing as his back muscles protested loudly – having been in one position for too long. Despite that, however, he felt that nothing could ruin his sudden good mood.

"Professor?"

Except that.

Swallowing, Remus peered over the bushes and came face to face with Sirius, Peter and James. All three students were bundled up in thick winter cloaks emblazoned with the school crest. James had a Gryffindor scarf wrapped around his neck and Peter was nearly hidden by a large woollen hat. Only Sirius had made no concessions to the cold and stood, quite comfortably, his hands in his pockets.

His cheeks red with cold and his hair trailing loose about his shoulders, he grinned at Remus, tentatively.

"Hello, Professor."

'Meade stuck his head over the hedge, safe in the knowledge that if he was rude to these large boys, he had the option of beating a hasty retreat behind his newfound friend's legs, or simply fleeing back to the relative safety of the house.

"Who're you?" he demanded, staring wide-eyed at James, who grinned and stuck his tongue out.

"These are my students," Remus said gently, before any of the boys could answer. "And to be honest I'm quite surprised that they are this far outside of Hogsmeade." He smiled politely as Sirius watched him, grey eyes wide and fixed. "I suppose there is a perfectly good reason?" He raised an eyebrow and watched as what could be seen of Peter under the large hat, flushed guiltily.

"We were just going to look at the Shrieking Shack," Sirius said, a little quickly. "We heard there's been a lot of activity there recently."

The world seemed to slow for a heartbeat as Remus turned haunted eyes on his student. 'He can't know,' he thought, even as a fear began to trickle slowly down his spine. 'He can't, he can't, he can't…It's not possible. I've been so careful, I've told nobody. But he's smart. He could work it out.' Guiltily, he looked at Sirius's face, which was calm, innocent. 'No,' Remus realised, nearly crying with relief. 'He has no idea who…what I am.'

"Well," James cleared his throat. "See you later then, Professor."

"What? Oh, yes." Remus smiled weakly and turned to 'Meade. "I think it's about time we went back inside. Your mother will blame me if we're late for dinner." He smiled as 'Meade grinned, then winced as the small boy placed his mud-encrusted hand against his neat robes, using them to tug him back along the path towards the house.

AaAaAaAa

Sirius watched as Remus was towed away by the noisy child. Swallowing, he ignored the bittersweet image it presented, and instead focused on letting the jealousy build in his heart. What was Remus doing at this house? Why did he know the kid so well? Was there something going on between the young teacher and, perhaps, the woman who lived here? Letting out a hissing breath from between his teeth, he forced the irrational emotion away as well, concentrating instead on Peter, who was struggling to remain upright thanks to a patch of ice.

"Surprise seeing Professor Lupin," James commented as they moved off, towards the Shrieking Shack. "I didn't think he knew anyone here."

"No," Sirius tilted his head back to look at the grey sky. "I suppose he's been making friends in the village."

Well that's a good thing," Peter commented cheerfully from under his layers of clothing, "he doesn't seem the type to be very…outgoing. Maybe now he's got some friends he won't devote his whole attention to his students." He didn't remark that it would also take him away from Sirius and the potential trouble he represented. Peter may have been many things, but stupid wasn't one of them. He, unlike James, realised that Lupin was becoming a touchy subject and that for the sake of everyone's sanity it would be wise to steer clear of the topic.

"Yes, a good thing," Sirius echoed, although he looked dubious as he glanced at James, who shrugged, drawing his own cloak tighter around his body.

"Look on the positive side, Sear," James said eventually as they approached the Shack, "at least we know he hasn't gone running to Dumbledore. Looks like he's been too busy. All the same…" he paused, looking thoughtful, "it was a pretty tense moment, wasn't it?" He grabbed Peter's arm as the shorter boy skidded on a patch of ice. Steadying him, he glanced up at Sirius, who was watching him thoughtfully.

"I think," the dark haired boy said thoughtfully, "it might be wise to call the whole bet off."

James raised an eyebrow. "Why? Know you'll lose?"

"You wish, Potter. No, you just said yourself – it's getting too risky." Sirius folded his arms. "I'll pay you the money if you like, but I am not going to run the risk of being expelled – not with the music competition coming up. And," he slitted his eyes, peering towards the Shack, "because I don't think I could take living with my family every day of the year. I just about survive holidays." His smile was sharp and brittle and James, sensing a delicate matter, simply sniffed disapprovingly and held out his hand.

"Quits," he said, as Peter fidgeted nearby.

Sirius turned, looking at him, his expression at once surprised and grateful. "Alright, Potter. Quits." Grabbing James's hand, he pulled his friend into a rough hug, them released him, ignoring the amused grin Peter shot him. Clearing his throat, he folded his arms again and changed the topic as rapidly as he could. "So, think any of the Slytherins have got the musical potential to steal the show from us Gryffindors?"

"Hardly," Peter said, as they began to walk again. "They've only got Lestrange – he's the only one in the whole House who plays an instrument." Both James and Sirius shot him a curious look, so he shrugged. "He plays the piano," he said. "He used to have the same teacher as me, so our lessons used to be around the same time." He snorted in disgust. "He wasn't very good."

Sirius grinned. "So we're all shoo-ins, then? Which reminds me…" he glared at Peter. "Why didn't you audition? You were bloody amazing on that piano, and yet you only agreed to help me audition after I'd nagged you into submission."

"Unlike some people I could mention, Sirius," Peter said cheerfully, "I have no wish to make a fool of myself in front of the entire school."

James laughed as Sirius huffed indignantly, drawing himself up to his full height. "Fool? Fool? I never make a fool of myself, Peter Frederick Matthew Pettigrew! I am artiste – something you common folk wouldn't understand!" Relaxing, he grinned. "And say that again and you'll be waking up with fetching pink hair one morning."

"You wouldn't dare!" Peter spluttered.

"Oh, wouldn't I?" Sirius raised on arched black eyebrow as they drew to a halt in front of the Shrieking Shack.

James studied the building dubiously. "It's a bit of a dump," he said at last. "And not very impressive. Are you sure people keep saying they've heard noises from it?" He looked at Sirius, who nodded. "I mean," he continued, "you'd think if it was haunted it would look more…spooky. It's not very atmospheric." He wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck and shuffled a little closer.

"I don't know, I think it looks a little spooky." Sirius stuffed his hands into his pockets and followed James, tilting his head back to stare up at the Shack's rickety roof and broken windows.

"Spooky? It just looks like a glorified garden shed!" James scoffed, clearly not impressed. "And you can't even see inside," he added, trying to peer through one of the downstairs windows.

Sirius didn't reply. Instead, he stepped up to the building, a frown forming on his face, as he looked hard at the old walls. Reaching out, hesitantly, he placed his hand against the windowpane, rubbing some of the dirt and grime away with his fingers – smudging, rather than removing, the dust. Leaning closer, he peered through the small streak of cleaner glass, grey eyes intent.

It was difficult to make out much in the room beyond, but he saw that what little furniture there was had been smashed and lay, broken and forgotten on the floor. The walls appeared streaked, and it took him a moment to realise that the streaks were, in fact, places were the walls had been damaged and newer material was showing through from where the old wood and bricks had been ripped away. The whole place seemed thick and heavy with dust, which was only disturbed here and there by long, broad patches of dark flooring that looked as though they had been wipe clean.

"See anything interesting?" James's voice sounded just behind him, and he stepped back reluctantly.

"Not a lot." Sirius glanced at his friends, but his eyes were inevitably drawn back towards the window, which gaped like a hole in the side of the building. "Lots of debris and a load of dust." He frowned, half fascinated, half repelled by the place. "No ghosts though, and I certainly wouldn't imagine that spirits could smash furniture. If you want my guess, it's that a couple of kids have come down here, made noise and several superstitious locals have thought it was something supernatural."

"I don't know," Peter said, hesitantly stepping nearer. "Everyone I've spoken to seems pretty sure that it's haunted."

Sirius shrugged. "Maybe. But I still say it's not ghosts, whatever else it may be."

"Come on," James nudged him. "Lets go back to the Three Broomsticks. I'm freezing and I want a Butterbeer. Peter's paying," he added, as they started to walk back towards the village of Hogsmeade.

Blocking out Peter's furious protests and James's laughter, Sirius paused looking back at the Shrieking Shack. It stood, large and immobile against the skyline, its windows looking like black, empty eyes that watched them go.

AaAaAaAa

"So," Mars said around a mouthful of salad, "the Prophet's got the details wrong yet again." He snorted and passed the plate of turkey over to Marta, who giggled and speared a piece with her fork.

"How so?" Sinn looked up from his dinner, eyebrows raised.

"Kane's not going to Azkaban." Mars bit emphatically into a tomato then waved his fork to emphasise his point. "Remember I told you Maple was going to visit him? Well, apparently that was all publicity hype. He has got five years, but it's only in the Ministry itself. He's staying in one of the cells under the courtroom. Apparently, it's not that bad. Maple told me he even had a window. Couldn't see much, what with it being underground and everything, but apparently they set it up so that he had some scenery to look at."

"Oh," Annie smiled. "That's good news – a much better sentence. I always did like Kane – he used to work down the pub on Saturdays to earn some extra money." She sighed, looking relieved. "I am glad he's not going to a real prison."

"It's still a prison, no matter what name you give it," Sinn said quietly. "He's still locked up. Granted, it isn't with the Dementors, but even so – the poor man's going to be trapped underground for five years. Imagine what that's going to do to him." He glanced at Mars, who bit his lip, looking thoughtful.

"I have to agree." Remus spoke up, suddenly, and all eyes at the table turned to look at him. He smiled, nodding towards Sinn. "This teacher is trapped. Eventually, that cell will become his own personal hell, with or without the influence of creatures such as Dementors. To imprison someone's body is to imprison their mind, and vice versa." He coughed, awkwardly, hoping that nothing showed on his face but mild concern.

"Mm," Mars pulled a face at one of the twin boys, who giggled, stuffing an enormous amount of bread into his mouth in one go.

"Apollo…" Annie said warningly, her sharp eyes missing nothing.

The boy smiled, sheepishly, and bent his head closer to his twin's. Whispers began to emanate from their side of the room, broken by a loud exclamation of "Pol!" from 'Meade and a few giggles. Remus watched the two boys, amused. He was struck by the similarities between the two children and several of his older students – it seemed strange that eight year olds could have so much in common with those much older than themselves. Still, he thought, as Janie nudged Mars to get his attention, they didn't seem half as troublesome as…

He cut the thought off quickly, gritting his teeth in irritation.

"…Severus Snape," Sinn said, and Remus jumped, realising he'd missed half of the conversation.

"I honestly think he's incredibly intelligent," Mars said, "but he's sometimes too…ah…enquiring for his own good."

"You mean nosy," Annie said, bluntly.

"You always did have a way with words, sister mine."

Their hostess smiled and turned to cut Marta's vegetables for her, leaving Sinn to resume his previous point.

"I know he's intelligent, and I know he's enquiring, but what I don't understand is why a boy like that can't get on with his peers." He frowned, spearing a carrot with his fork. "I mean, he doesn't even appear to have friends amongst the Slytherins. And I would at least have thought he'd have known some of the other purebloods from before his time at Hogwarts. But no, he simply seems…isolated."

"Well, he's not the most pleasant of people," Mars said philosophically.

"Maybe not, but I believe that everyone has one true friend. Someone who suits their personality perfectly. I would have thought Severus would be no exception."

"Oh, and you're an expect on true friendship?" Mars queried, delicately slicing a sprout, then crunching it between strong, white teeth.

Sinn shot him a pointed look.

"Oh, fine," the sports teacher grumbled. "But really, you cannot deny that it's probably his generally nasty attitude, more than anything, that turns people against him."

"Potter makes his life a living hell," Sinn pointed out.

"True. So does Black." Mars shrugged. "I'm surprised those two don't get along, actually. Snape and Black are remarkably similar in many respects." He grinned. "They're both arrogant little pri –"

"MARS!" Annie's voice cut across the conversation and her brother jumped, looking guilty. "Not in front of the children, if you please."

Remus stared hard at his nearly empty plate, only half listening as 'Meade, Marta and Pol clamoured to hear what their uncle had been about to say. His dinner churned uneasily in his stomach and he rubbed his forehead in frustration, fighting against the range of emotions that threatened to surge over him. Everything always seemed to come back to Sirius, no matter how hard he tried to escape it. Even here, amongst these friendly, open people, Sirius's presence seemed to hover like a ghost – pale, distant, but watching with reproachful eyes. Eyes that, Remus admitted, had begun to turn cold whenever they looked at him now.

He shivered, swallowed, then nodded when Annie offered him pudding.

AaAaAaAa

The Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom was warm in the watery afternoon sunshine. Dust motes danced within the sunbeams that fell across the floor, sparking as they swirled in the air currents and the room was filled with a warm, sleepy glow that only heightened the lazy hush that had descended in the late winter afternoon.

Remus was standing at the front of the room, writing notes on the blackboard – dictating as he did so. The chalk squeaked across the board whenever he pressed too firmly, and the sound of rustling parchment and quills only served to enhance the otherwise silent atmosphere of the room. Shifting, the young teacher moved back to the other end of the board to begin a new line, oblivious to the scrutiny he was under.

Sirius watched him from under lowered lashes, his chin cupped in his hands. Next to him, Peter was frantically copying the notes, and James was composing a love letter to Lily, his lips moving as he framed the words he was – badly – trying to express. The sunlight was hot on the back of the black haired boy's neck, making a light sheen of sweat break out across his forehead and upper lip. He could feel his shirt sticking to his back and was mildly surprised that a castle could be so warm in the middle of winter.

Running a hand through his hair, Sirius leant back in his chair, gaze still fixed on Remus. James had called the bet off – there was now no reason to go near the teacher. No point, either, and he was therefore confused by some instinct that kept pushing, goading and nagging him into trying to seek out the young Professor. Sirius frowned, absently fiddling with his quill as he stared hard at Remus's back, half wanting the teacher to turn around and catch him looking.

"Wake up," James hissed, as Remus turned around, explaining something to one of the confused students sitting on the front row. "He'll be asking us questions in a minute." Leaning over, he grabbed Peter's notes, ignoring a mild protest, and shoved them in front of Sirius. "Here, quick. Look at these and tell me you understand them. If not, start praying he doesn't pick you."

The festivals observed by dark creatures and those with dark magic. Sirius groaned, quietly, as he began to scan Peter's notes, cursing himself for not paying more attention to the lesson. Repentance, however, did not seem to suffice, as Remus finished explaining the problem to the pupil in front and turned to look at the rest of the class, a small smile gracing his lips.

"Now you've all taken the notes down," he said pleasantly, "shall we see how much you've absorbed?"

"Nononononono," James was muttering under his breath. "Let's not. Let's have an early lunch break instead. Let's all go home for the term and never come back. Anything. Let's just not get asked questions."

Lily, who had overheard him, shook her head in exasperation. "Do you ever learn, Potter?" She whispered as James closed his eyes, lips moving in a fervent prayer to any deity who happened to be listening in. "It'll serve you right if he asks you."

"Can anyone tell me," Remus was saying, "what the festival of Dionysus is, and which magical creature or persons takes part in it." He scanned the room, smiling at the forest of hands that had shot up, and picked at random. "Miss Kiel."

"The festival of Dionysus," the girl answered promptly, "is a holiday usually celebrated by Greek creatures known as Maenads. Maenads inspire madness in mortals and on the festival night, they sacrifice a human woman to the god. They also re-enact plays and dance naked in the woods during this festival period."

"Very good." Remus smiled. "Five points to Slytherin, I think." There was a discontented murmur from the Gryffindors, but no outright hostility.

"Come on Lily," James hissed at his girlfriend, "you can beat some Slytherin bint. Answer a question!"

"Why don't you?" She shot back.

"Because I haven't been paying attention!"

"Why don't you two –" Sirius began, then closed his mouth so fast that his teeth clicked as Remus turned to look at him.

"Mr Black. Would you be so kind as to tell us from which ancient culture the festival of Lupercalia originated?" The teacher's eyes, normally so calm and placid, had turned cold, and Sirius felt as though someone had trailed an icy finger down his spine. Swallowing, he forced himself to meet Remus's gaze, trying to ignore the mental chant that was running through his head.

'He hates me hatesmehatesmehatesme…' Gritting his teeth and wondering why the thought made his chest tighten painfully, he looked desperately towards Peter for help. His friend mouthed something then, realising this wasn't working, mimed rowing a boat. Sirius frowned as Peter then pointed to himself. 'Rowing…boy…no. Rowing…man. Row…man. Roman!' Shooting his friend a grateful look, he raised his chin defiantly and stared at Remus, willing his thoughts to remain hidden behind his eyes.

"The Romans. Sir."

"Very good. Five points to Gryffindor." Remus looked as though every word was causing him pain, and he turned away abruptly, but not before Sirius noticed that he had gone incredibly pale and that he was biting his lip, just slightly.

'What,' he wondered, as Remus pointed at Peter and asked him a similar question, 'has got him so worked up?'

AaAaAaAa

Snape huddled further into his cloak as he crossed the courtyard, heading back towards the warmth of Hogwarts' main hall.

Nearly tripping over the small fountain in one corner of the courtyard, he cursed softly, then froze, dark eyes blinking into the blackness as he caught sight of a shadowy figure slipping across the open space and coming to a stop no more than ten feet from him. Huddling back into the shadows, in case it was a teacher, he watched as the figure hesitated, then tilted its head up, eyes fixed on a second storey window, which was lit up with the warm glow of a lamp.

Snape nearly hissed again as he saw that the figure was none other than Sirius Black.

Raising his own eyes to the window, curious as to what had made Black pause at this particular point, he caught sight of a boy moving across the upstairs room. He wore no robe and his shirt was undone, hanging loosely from his shoulders. His light hair was rumpled, and it was clear he was readying himself for bed. As the boy turned, his face became clear for a moment, and Snape blinked in silent surprise. The 'boy' was none other than Professor Lupin. Frowning, Snape edged a little nearer to Sirius, relaxing when he realised that Black was oblivious to the world.

'What,' he wondered as he watched Black's eyes follow Lupin's every movement, 'is this…this…thing doing out here at this time of night?' He frowned as Sirius bit his lip, then turned his gaze back to the window. Lupin had taken his shirt off, absently flinging it over the back of a chair that rested by the window. Unselfconsciously, he paused to look out into the night, and Snape saw with some surprise that various scars criss-crossed his chest and shoulders.

He stared, frowning, as his mind tried to recall some half-known piece of information, but was startled from thought when Black let out a small gasp, his hand flying to his mouth. Looking first at his fellow student, then up at Lupin, Snape saw his teacher's mouth drop open in surprise as his gaze fixed on Sirius. There was a long, electric pause, and Snape, fascinated, saw Lupin's expression change from one of shock, to something else.

Turning, he was just in time to dart back into the shadows as Sirius spun on his heel and fled.

As he watched Black disappear in a flurry of robes and long hair, Snape felt a smile beginning to curve his lips. Here, at last, was something that could be used against Sirius Black, one way or another. Taking one final glance up at Lupin, he was surprised to see the man still staring off in the direction Sirius had fled, his expression a strange mixture of longing and fear. Shrugging, Snape slid back the way he had come, and hurried off in the opposite direction, resigning himself to taking the longer route, even as his mind whirled with happy thoughts and images of Black finally getting his comeuppance.

Sirius Black and Professor Lupin. The irony of the situation delighted him, and he hugged the secret close to himself, enjoying it as he shoved his way into the Slytherin common room.

It would only be a matter of time before they were discovered, and Snape couldn't wait to see what would happen then.

To Be Continued…

CB: I hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas and as a (sort of) Christmas present to you all, if you want me to write you a little mini-fic, just say so in your review (and what you'd like in the fic) and I'll let you know when I post it on my Livejournal.