Disclaimer: See Prologue

Harry grinned despite himself. He wished desperately that he could have seen the clean copy or that Remus Lupin had not decided to take total leave of his senses one night. "Did you do it often?" he asked quietly, unsure whether he was referring to attempting to grill cheap meat or scribbling out Sirius' face and writing obscene remarks about him.

Lupin ignored him and Sirius chose to take the question at face value. "Yeah, your dad fancied himself as the hunter gatherer." Sirius laughed to himself. "What was presented to us was…well, it certainly looked…interesting."

From the other side of the room, flicking through what Harry assumed was a further pile of melancholy scenarios, Lupin made several sounds in the back of his throat that screamed his agreement. "And it tasted about as interesting as it looked."

Sirius scoffed. "You can talk. I remember taking one look at your attempt at Sheppard's Pie not so long ago, mate, and refusing to eat it."

Lupin shrugged. "Kreacher's still alive, isn't he? It didn't kill him."

"Remus, I can only assume that you gave it your best damn shot."

Harry laughed and accepted the offered photograph depicting a much younger Lupin who wore a pair of marigolds, and Sirius wave at him from the confines of a small, bare walled corridor.

"Where's that?"

1979

"I can't stay here," protested Sirius. "They're getting married next week. I'm not playing gooseberry."

Peter frowned. "I thought you were moving in with that Muggle with the spare room."

"I was going to, but he listens to Frankie Goes to Hollywood albums with his Pekinese. Next thing I know, he'll be making quiche."

Lupin smirked.

"He won't put you in it," said Peter. "It's illegal."

Sirius smacked him round the back of the head. "Be quiet, Peter."

"Well," said Lupin. "What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?"

"It's my day off so I thought I'd get some last minute Stag Night planning done. You know, thought I'd debate the merits of a prostitute, wonder where we can buy some seriously good stuff to inhale and possibly read some more of SuperBike. Why?"

Lupin raised his eyebrows. "I was going to ask you if you wanted to come and see a flat with me but if you've got plans…"

"I haven't got plans!" piped in Peter. "I could come."

Lupin laughed. "I think my sick sense of humour is somewhat wasted on you, Pete. So, Sirius, are you coming or not?"

"You really didn't have to ask."

The walls had only just been plastered, the ceiling was slowly caving in and the carpet was covered in some highly questionable stains that Lupin attacked with every spell and later, Muggle cleaning fluid known to man; but it was theirs.

"Christ, Remus, any worse for wear and it would be a hole in the ground!"

Lupin shrugged. "It's all I can afford on my salary. Teachers are poor. That's why we have patches on our jackets."

Sirius sighed. "It looks like I'm going to have to get a job."

Lupin nodded. "How else will we feed the hamster?"

"We have a hamster?"

"It was a present from my mother," mumbled Lupin. "Please don't ask about it. It only makes me die inside." He sighed. "Pass me the cleaning fluid."

"Yeah, you're going to need it."

Lupin cleared his throat. "You're not offering to help me then, are you?"

Sirius scoffed. "Nice try. Besides, I have to find a job, remember? I have work to do."

Lupin raised his eyebrows. "What kind of work? You can find a job in the paper. What are you going to do, go round knocking doors and demanding a job?"

Sirius shrugged. "Remus, you found your job in the paper and there is absolutely no way I am teaching eight year olds maths. I'm sorry but it's true."

Lupin shot him a withering glance. "I might get away with it anyway. Maybe after a few paint charms…"

Sirius scoffed. "Dream on, mate. Dream on. I'm sure that wall's damp. I think some of the stains on this carpet are going to need pounding with a rock."

Lupin wrinkled his nose. "Well, thanks for your help and encouragement."

Sirius smiled smugly and shrugged. "You'd better get the marigolds out."

"Screw you!"

But the door had already slammed shut.

"Honey, I'm home!"

"I'm serious, Padfoot. I'll make you sleep on the streets."

Sirius laughed and flung his 'interview coat' ("It makes me look sensible, like I shop in a mid-life crisis shop") on the flimsy hat stand the previous owner had 'generously' left behind. Frankly, it didn't look as though it could take the weight.

He strode casually into what was to be the living area and draped himself disturbingly elegantly along the tatty sofa. "Guess who's Archive Consultant of the public records?"

Lupin continued to scrub at a particularly arresting stain. "The Pope?"

He rolled his eyes. "Alright, so it's not much but I might get promoted."

Lupin gave him a meaningful look. "Yes, or sacked."

"And just think, you'll never need to visit a library again. I can bring almost anything home."

Lupin bit his lip. "Will that extend to their calendar too?"

Sirius shrugged although his flatmate missed the gesture. "If you want one, Remus, you can have one. Personally, I'd have a chosen a very different twelve best valleys of Britain than the Ministry have gone for but I imagine the flowery, rabbit infested valleys are more your cup of tea than mine."

"Sirius, do you ever shut up?" He seemed to be satisfied as he vanished the small bucket of soapy water and sponge. Lupin took a seat, shifting Sirius' legs. "You're compensating. Look, they'll have you out of Archives before the month is through and put you in a more exciting department."

Sirius smiled. "Do you really think so?"

"I know so. You can't be left alone when you're bored. No-one is safe. Cheer up; I've been planning a Housewarming party."

Sirius grinned. "When?"

"Friday. I've invited everyone in the Order although I'm not sure I want McGonagall to see me dancing, and obviously some friends from school and Mum. Invite Electra."

Sirius immediately perked up. "Friday?" Friday was definitely familiar. What was he doing Friday? "Shit! No, I'm babysitting."

Lupin scoffed. "You? Babysitting who?"

"Andromeda's kid," Sirius replied. "She can come, can't she?"

Lupin bit his lip. "I don't know. I can always rearrange. It doesn't matter. Besides, this needs a lot more work and…"

"I'll sort it, Moon. Friday'll be fine."

Lupin beamed. "I need a picture."

He screwed the camera onto a stand he had been given several years previously and stood back, allowing Sirius to wrap an arm around his shoulders.

CLICK!

"You do realise you're still wearing those fetching gloves, Remus, right?"

"Bugger!"