I apologize for the delay; as feared I did not have access to a computer last week. But here's an extra fluffy chapter to make up for it :)

Guest(1): Good point, totally forgot that Harry was actually related to the Blacks. But I'm afraid his mother being muggleborn will erase any chance of Kreacher accepting his blood status.

Loves to read books: To be honest, that idiocy isn't really limited to wizarding government, is it? But yes, the ministry are rather moronic in all of this.

ErekLich: For the same reasons Sirius didn't do so in the books, I think. Chances are slim anybody believe them without any proof, while giving out facts like that could lead to them being captured. Being an animagus is a very useful disguise, and if Sirius was to explain everything to them he would lose that advantage. That being said, Remus did write a letter to Dumbledore, and he did believe them. The problem here is that Sirius doesn't trust Dumbledore , and Dumbledore still wants to get Harry back to Privet Drive, something he knows Sirius is against.

Guest(2): I thought about that tunnel idea, actually, but my guess is that the old wizard houses have safeguards against that sort of thing, as it would make breaking in rather easy.

DarkNutDestroyer: A lot of money. Not all of it, obviously, but enough for them to last a couple of years. I'm not familiar with the exchange rates between muggle and wizard money, however, so I can't out it in Galleons or pounds.


The Werewolf in the Room

"So what do we do?"

Remus didn't answer, staring at the mug in his hand. It was almost midnight; Harry had fallen asleep long ago, exhausted and anxious, curled up next to Padfoot. But now he was sleeping, and Sirius had come down again to figure out what on earth they would do about this new development. So far, all they had come up with was fifteen minutes of silence.

"Is there a way to break it?"

Remus sighed, shaking his head, and finally spoke. "No, not with only two wands." He paused. "I think we should contact Dumbledore," he finally said, throwing a cautious glance over to his friend. As expected, Sirius' face immediately darkened. "You were right; he must be the one behind it, or at least have the power to lift it," Remus said quickly, "and we need to get out of here. I need to get out of here."

"If he was about to help us, he'd already have done so," Sirius said, his jaw tightening. "Instead, he's locked us in. He wants us to contact him. To give in. And we can't let him win."

"Well, we can't stay in here forever, either," Remus countered. "We don't have a broom to fly out the window; we can't go out the front door because it is being watched. So unless your roof-climbing skill are impressively greater than mine, we are stuck."

Sirius remained stubborn. "We'll figure something out. I checked; there's enough food to last us at least a month. Plenty of time to come up with a solution."

"You have a month," Remus corrected. "I have three days." He could feel the moon already, draining his body, seeping into this mind. The monster within that he had no way to control. The monster that would kill Harry in the blink of an eye.

"I'll...I'll have to leave," he said slowly, frowning as the realization struck him.

He didn't want to go. He didn't want to lose Sirius again, to lose Harry... but there was no other way. If he stayed, he would just endanger both of them. And it was alright, really. He'd had his friend back for another few weeks; he knew that Harry would be happy...

"You should probably wipe my mind. I think I could fend off legilimency, but they might use Veritaserum."

It took Sirius a moment to understand was he was talking about, but when he did all he gave was a dismissive snort. "You're not gonna hand yourself in, Moony!" he exclaimed, "Are you insane?"

"What's the alternative? Stay here and murder the two of you?"

"You won't...we'll ward off the attic, like I said. I'll seal all the staircases, hell, I'll remove the staircases if you want me to, and I'll stay with Harry. It'll be safe."

"It's not-"

"You transformed in your parents' basement as a child, didn't you? What's the difference?"

"The difference is that Harry-"

"He'll be safe. I'll keep him safe. I won't let you touch him, I promise."

"Padfoot won't be enough to hold the wolf, I told you-"

Sirius didn't let him finish, his voice suddenly very quiet. "I'm not talking about Padfoot. I've got a Newt in Defence Against the Dark Art, Remus. I know how to take care of a werewolf."

For a moment there eyes met, and Remus could see the promise in those grey eyes.

If it comes to it, I will kill you.

He felt his determination waver. Fear and hope warred in his mind as he tried to come to terms with the conflicting voices in his head.

Sirius was right, he knew. They could make it safe. Together, they could cast wards much stronger than anything Remus' father had come up with, and with the spacious house he might even be far enough away to not smell the humans. And if it came to the worst, Sirius would keep his promise.

You won't be able to touch Harry.

And yet...it went against all of his instincts. He was a monster; he had to be secluded, separated from anything human, anything good...

You don't want to give it up, though. You don't want to lose them again, to lose hope...

And he knew that he had already made his decision.

"We have to tell him," he said slowly after the silence had stretched. "About what I am. If I am to be in the same house with him, he has to know."


"Harry? Can you stay a while? We have something to talk to you about."

Harry flinched halfway on his way to the sink, his empty plate almost crashing to the floor.

Something to talk to you about...

Did they know? Had they found out he was sneaking up to the third floor to talk to Kreacher?

But when he slowly sunk back into his chair he could see no anger on Remus' or Sirius' face, just something like – worry?

Was this about Remus' accident? Was he getting worse? He looked rather ill, now that Harry thought about it. Fear shot up in him again as he remembered the blood that had drenched Remus' jumper. But he had seemed fine; he had told Harry that he was fine…

"Harry," Sirius began slowly, interrupting his panicking thoughts. His voice was grave, a tone that Harry had almost never heard from him. "Do you remember how Remus got ill last month and had to go away for a night?"

Harry's stomach constricted as he felt his fear confirmed. "But you said he was better!" he exclaimed, not caring how whiny his voice sounded, "You said he was alright now!"

Sirius winced, obviously not expecting such a strong reaction. "He is," he said quickly, moving his chair closer to Harry's and putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "He's perfectly healthy – or will be, anyway. Because you see, the thing is, he's getting ill again this month."

Harry threw Remus an uncertain look. "Because of his accident?"

The other man gave a short smile, but it didn't look very happy. "No, that was just my own carelessness, I'm afraid. It doesn't have anything to do with this, actually."

Now, Harry was completely confused. "But then what's wrong with you?"

There was a short pause.

"Well...Remus is getting sick every month, Harry. It's an illness, one that doesn't go away. But it's only for one night every month."

"What kind of illness?" Harry asked, looking at Remus with curious eyes. He looked tired, yes, but there was no tell-tale sign of what might be wrong with it. No runny nose, no spotted skin, no broken limbs. Maybe it was some sort of internal disease?

"It's..." Sirius began, before looking up at Remus.

"I'm a werewolf, Harry," the other man finally said, his voice sounding very hoarse.

Harry stared at him, wondering if he had heard correctly.

A...werewolf?

"Werewolves are real, too?"

Remus seemed surprised, but nodded quickly.

Harry frowned, thinking.

"You don't look like a werewolf," he finally said, remembering everything he had heard about them. None of it sounded like Remus.

Behind him, Sirius gave off a weird sounding noise. "Told you!" he muttered, but Remus didn't even appear to hear him as he stared at Harry.

Harry flinched, realizing that it was probably not a very nice thing to say. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, staring at the ground. "it's just...I don't even know what a real werewolf looks like. I mean...I guess I do now..."

Behind him, Sirius was shaking with something that could only be silent laughter, although Harry didn't know what was so funny, while Remus seemed to be left completely speechless.

Just as Harry was starting to wonder if he really had insulted him, Sirius regained the ability to speak. "They're just people," he said, his arm still resting around Harry's shoulder, "Werewolves don't really look like anything sspecific – I mean, outside of the full moon, anyway. That's when they get hairy."

Harry's eyes wandered back to Remus, and he tried to imagine him turning into a wolf. It was very hard.

"It's why he gets ill," Sirius continued. "The change is not a very nice thing to go through, and it makes him very tired."

"Oh," Harry made, feeling sympathy rise in him. "Isn't there a cure?" There usually was a cure in fairy-tales.

But Remus shook his head. "It's incurable," he said quietly. "And it makes me dangerous. Once I transform, I..." he hesitated, and his gaze dropped. He looked sadder than Harry had ever seen him. "The wolf takes over. I would kill anybody coming close to me."

"Oh," Harry made again, unsure what to make of this. It sounded terrible. Then he remembered the conversation he had overheard weeks earlier, when Remus had left for the night – to transform, as Harry now understood. Sirius had sounded terribly worried.

"Does it hurt?" he asked uncertainly.

"I-" Again, Remus seemed surprised as his eyes shot up to Harry. "Yes," he finally said, still staring at Harry as if he was trying to figure something out.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, slipping out of his chair and hurrying over to Remus to hug him. "I'm sorry you get hurt."

There was a sliver of hesitation, but then he felt Remus' arms wrap around him as he was drawn into a firm hug. Remus appeared to be shivering, even though it wasn't very cold in the kitchen – but then Sirius had said that he got sick, so it was probably that. Harry held him tighter, hoping to warm him.

When they finally separated, Remus' eyes looked very runny. Did he have a cold, too?

"The thing is, Harry," Sirius said when he had retaken his seat, "Usually; Remus leaves the house to transform, because he doesn't want to hurt you. But the ministry has found a way to lock us in, so we can't leave right now." He paused, obviously waiting for Harry to react in some way.

But Harry didn't know how to react. Of course, being locked in sounded bad...but he hadn't liked leaving anyway, and this way at least Sirius and Remus would be safe inside. So he just settled on "Ah."

"Well...that means that Remus can't leave for the full moon on Tuesday. It'll be perfectly safe of course," Sirius added quickly, his grip on Harry's shoulder tightening. "He'll go up to the attic and we'll lock it and put spells on it so that he can't escape. But we thought you should know."

Harry nodded. "Okay..." He wasn't worried, no matter what Remus had said about his werewolf from being violent. Sirius and Remus were brilliant wizards; they would certainly be able to keep the werewolf locked up. But then, another thought struck him.

He might be kept safe by Sirius, but what about the other inhabitant of the house?


"Kreacher?"

There was no answer, and Harry wondered if the Oompa-Loompa had even heard him. He nervously glanced down the corridor, not daring to speak louder in case Sirius or Remus might hear him. Right now they were both still in the kitchen, having sent Harry to get ready for bed, but Sirius had promised that he'd be up soon. Harry had to hurry.

"Kreacher?" he whispered again, knocking tentatively on the wooden door. There was still no answer, but just as he lifted his hand to try and open the door, a soft pop sounded from behind the wood.

"Master Brat has called for Kreacher?" Harry jumped at the hoarse voice, nearly stumbling to the ground.

"I...You don't have to call me Master," Harry whispered through the wood, – or brat, he silently added – glancing behind him once more to listen for signs of Sirius walking up the stairs. Deciding that this was not the time to discuss proper forms of address, he quickly added, "I just came to warn you. It's the full moon this Tuesday, and the government people have locked us in. So Remus has to transform in here that night, in the attic. He says he's dangerous. Remus is-"

"The half-breed stays here?" Kreacher said, sounding surprised but not afraid at all. "Maybe the half-breed will rip apart the Master..."

"I don't think Remus wants to rip apart anybody," Harry said uncertainly, confused by this sudden bout of violence, before another thing came into his mind. "How do you know he's a werewolf? He only just told me."

"Kreacher knows. Oh yes, Kreacher knows the miserable shame that has been brought on this sacred place, defiling the noble family home. Kreacher knows of the half-breed."

His hostility confused Harry even further, but at that moment he heard the kitchen door open. "Just...take care, okay? Don't go upstairs on Tuesday night. I don't want you to get hurt. I gotta go."

No waiting for Kreacher's answer he raced down the stairs, narrowly slipping into the bathroom before Sirius' head appeared in the hallway.


"Are you okay?"

It had been almost five minutes since Harry had left, yet Remus still hadn't moved. If Sirius hadn't known him well enough he might have thought his friend was having a stroke.

At the sound of Sirius' voice, Remus finally turned his head, his eyes slowly focusing on him. There was a stunned look on his face, and the beginnings of what might be a smile. "Yes, I..." his voice faltered.

"Still think he's going to hate you?" Sirius asked, not managing to keep the amusement out of his voice.

He felt euphoric. Of course he hadn't expected Harry to react badly – he was James' and Lily's son, after all – but even so he could not have hoped for a better outcome. Harry truly was a wonderful child.

"He might still," Remus said quietly, his voice hoarse. "He doesn't know what it means yet. The way you described it... it wasn't very accurate."

Sirius snorted. Trust Remus to be pessimistic even in moments like this. "It was more accurate than the gobshite they teach in DADA," he countered. "And we did tell him werewolves are deadly. Blame his mother that the only thing he took away from it was you hurting." He grinned, relieved when the smile finally broke its way on Remus' face. "Actually, he did react a lot like Lily, didn't he? 'Cept for the crying."

The werewolf managed a choked laugh. "I think I can handle that bit," he mumbled, and Sirius could indeed see moisture gathering in his eyes.

But they were tears of happiness and relief, and his face shone with a joy that Sirius hadn't seen on it for a very long time. "Actually, would you mind checking on Harry now? I'm really not comfortable with you watching me cry."

Sirius barked a laugh and rose to his feet, stopping to pat his friend on the shoulder on his way to the door.

"Cry all you want, little rabbit."


Harry was still in the bathroom when he came up, so he used to time to dig through the liquor cabinet in the drawing room, trying to find a bottle that did not look like it contained at least thirty per cent troll blood. He felt like celebrating, and he was certain that even Remus wouldn't say no to a glass or two once he had gotten over his emotional breakdown.

When he came back, the bottle of Odgen's finest safely stowed away in his pocket, Harry was already sitting in bed, Prongs clutched to his side and an expectant look on his face. Sirius grinned, spotting the book on the nightstand.

"Think you can do with me today? I promise to try and do the voices as well as Remus."

Harry nodded quickly, moving aside so that Sirius could sit next to him on the bed. "I like you reading to me just as much as Remus," he said, slightly guilty look on his face.

Sirius ruffled his hair, smiling. "Don't worry, Pronglset. I'm not going to take offence if you prefer Moony's reading. He loves reading to you far too much."

He wasn't lying; he didn't begrudge Remus his bedtime popularity one bit. For one, it was true; Remus possessed far more patience, and a deeply rooted love for books, for Sirius to ever compare to him. He knew Harry didn't think worse of him for it, and as much as he loved spending time with the boy he knew that it did Remus a lot of good to have a child look up to him like that. Merlin knew he could do with a boost of self-confidence.

That all being said, Sirius greatly enjoyed reading to Harry. Especially as the book, a very strange tale about a super-strong girl who lived alone with her horse and a monkey, proved highly entertaining. It might be due to the limited selection he had gotten from his own sadistic family, but Sirius thought that when it came down to it, muggles really did write better stories.

"Now I really wanna know how it goes on," he mused once the chapter was through, reluctantly closing the book and depositing it back on the nightstand in front of the picture of James and Lily, "I think I'll join you and Moony tomorrow night and listen in."

Harry beamed. "You could just read me another chapter now," he said, looking hopeful. "This one wasn't very long."

It was tempting. Not just because Sirius really enjoyed the misadventures of the fantastic girl, but also because he rather liked cuddling with Harry. But he had seen the boy's eyelids drop once or twice, and hadn't missed the enormous yawn that Harry had tried to hide behind his stuffed stag.

"One chapter a night, that's the rule," he said, wondering if his "serious adult voice" sounded as ridiculous as it felt. "But I can stay with you until you're asleep. Your bed is very comfortable."

Harry giggled a little, and the disappointment fled his face. "Okay," he said, settling into the covers. "Good night, Sirius."

"Good night, Prongslet. Sweet dreams."

But they had only been silent for a minute or so before Harry's eyes opened once more, and his quiet voice interrupted Sirius' thoughts.

"Sirius? What's a half-breed?"

He froze, his arm around Harry tightening so suddenly that the boy flinched, but Sirius barely registered his shocked look.

"It...where did you hear that?" he finally managed, as lead filled his stomach. Suddenly he was very glad that it was him and not Remus who'd put Harry in bed.

"I..." Harry started, before stopping and staring at his bed sheets, looking guilty.

Sirius winced. "I'm not mad," he said quickly. "I'm just...where did you hear that?"

It wasn't a term either him or Remus ever used, and he was pretty certain that the books Harry read weren't the kind to mention it either. And that it should come up now, not even an hour after... But then he realized where they were.

"You shouldn't listen to her," he said quickly, trying to keep the anger out of his voice for fear that Harry might think it directed at him. Judging by the wide-eyed look Harry shot him he didn't quite succeed. "She's a vile old woman who spews nonsense," Sirius quickly continued, gentler now. "She was one of the people you lived here, you know? The evil ones I told you about. Half-breed is..."

He hesitated, uncertain if he should continue. In the end he decided that honesty would be the best way, lest Harry ask Remus what a half-breed was.

"It's a very rude term for werewolves or people who are not fully human," he said slowly. "The thing is, a lot of people don't like werewolves. It's stupid, really; there's good werewolves and bad werewolves, just like with other people, but there's still some who will say mean things about them just because of what they become once a month."

"Oh," Harry made, frowning. "That's not very nice."

"No," Sirius said quickly, empathically shaking his head. "But not all people are nice, I'm afraid. And that portrait certainly isn't. Just – don't listen to her, alright? Remus' loves you, and he would never hurt you. Him being a werewolf doesn't change anything."

But whatever had Harry thinking, that hadn't been it. "Why would it change anything?" he asked, honestly puzzled.

As before in the kitchen, Sirius felt a sudden rush of affection for the boy, who was so wonderfully like James and Lily, and yet had such a vibrant personality of his own. "It doesn't," he repeated, reaching to hug Harry firmly to him. "Neither me nor Moony will ever stop loving you. I promise, Prongslet."


That wasn't so bad Remus, was it? Now if only Sirius could get himself to talk about his family to Harry...