Disclaimer: See Prologue

A/N: The last of the photographs. The epilogues are next and they'll be rather depressing. So it's funerals galore though it's a nice easy one to break you in…

"You didn't really make him eat it?"

Sirius frowned. "Please don't tell me you feel sorry for him."

"Not Pettigrew," said Harry. "His owl."

Sirius laughed. "Of course we didn't. We couldn't catch it."

Lupin rolled his eyes. "Stop suggesting you had any intention of making him eat the poor little thing."

"Yeah, I'll admit it," said Sirius. "Though wouldn't it be great if we had gotten him to eat his own leg? I'd like to see him scamper off then. In fact, there you go. You're always saying you have nothing to do on Saturday nights. Why don't you arrange a catch-up with Peg-Leg Pete?"

Lupin looked as though he would rather shove a wasps nest down his corduroys.

"Go on. See if you can't hack it off."

Lupin raised an eyebrow. "With what?"

"Chainsaw."

He nodded sarcastically. "That's very conspicuous, Sirius. 'Excuse me, Wormtail, would you mind looking the other way while I fire up my weapon?' Besides, this isn't the Teddington Chainsaw Massacre."

"You weren't quite so moral when you were talking about Travers, were you?"

Harry frowned. "What did you do to Travers?"

Lupin smirked. It looked out of place on his lips - as though his expression had been warped. Harry, unused to such a smile on the lips of anyone but Snape, almost physically recoiled.

"I gave him injuries he will never fully cure, scars that will fully heal, and nightmares that will never fully leave him." His smirk vanished. "But that's irrelevant."

Deciding he really did not want to know, Harry picked up the next photograph, too used to Ron and Hermione to be worried by their constant bickering.

July 17th 1978

"That's why it's called a wake," said Lupin, yawning. "It's Catholic tradition. The wake is the vigil."

James shivered. "I just don't like sitting here all night beside an open coffin."

"You don't have to."

"No, Remus, you have to and if you think I'm leaving you here on your own, you've got another bloody think coming."

James knew that it had been arranged for the dead man to look that way, but it almost looked as though John Lupin was sleeping in a very unorthodox manner. Though he could never say it aloud, he had to admit that even in death, the man had serious style and wore a suit better than anyone he had met.

"I'm not alone."

"Well, it pains me to say it, but I think we can discount your father as company, Remus."

Lupin pinched the bridge of his nose, a quirk that James now recognised as a sure sign of fatigue, and released it, running his hand over his jaw line that was now covered in stubble as a mark of respect - an Italian tradition that James was fascinated by.

"I always thought it was an Al Capone thing," he said, nodding toward Lupin's developing facial hair.

"And with a name like Capone, where do you think he came from, James?" Lupin smiled grimly. "My mother's uncle keeps a diary that could be the next installment of The Godfather."

Looking at Lupin, despite his now mousy-brown hair and pale complexion, it was rather easy to believe that his Sicilian great-uncle was strapping concrete blocks to the feet of all those who irked him. James vowed not to get on the wrong side of Remus ever again.

"So," he asked, nervously, "do you see much of him?"

Lupin shook his head. "No-one does. The whole family disinherited my grandmother when she married Colbert. The only one he sees is Jane because she's a nun. Christ, she'd better not be at the funeral."

James frowned. "Jane?"

"My mother's sister." He shuddered. "If she's got the nerve to even come to the wake, I'll kill her."

"Remus, you can't kill a nun."

Lupin laughed bitterly. "Watch me." He sighed. "I don't think I'll go anyway. I can't stand people drinking and laughing and talking about him like they knew him."

James smiled. "It'll be okay. If she and your Dad didn't get on, she won't come."

Lupin's lip curled in disgust. "That's precisely why she will come. She knows it'll get to me and she hates me even more than she hates him. Hated; even more than she hated him."

"She doesn't sound like much of a nun."

Lupin smirked. "She only took her vows so she had an excuse for being a sexless old bag." He nodded toward his father's casket. "He always said that. My mother would have a fit, but that was half the fun for him."

James grinned. "Yeah, sounds like your old man."

Silence.

And a whisper, "I miss him."

August 3rd 1978

London was busy; too busy for Lupin's liking. Crowds made him edgy and unnerved him a little. Crowds jostled; and jostling usually meant pressure on bruising. He barely noticed the crowds as he trudged through the streets to James' too-big-to-be-allowed home in the north of Fulham.

Hits of The Witch Hunters were blaring from inside the garage and Lupin headed there first, thinking that Sirius would be easier to face than James. Sirius never wanted to talk about feelings or losses.

"Hi."

Lupin thought he would not be heard over the sounds of electric guitar, but Sirius threw down both his wand and spanner and rushed over to him.

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Around. Home mostly. My mother needs me."

Sirius wiped his oily hands on his knees and turned down the radio. "Are you okay?"

Lupin nodded unconvincingly. "Yeah. I'm getting better."

"No you're not. You never could lie, could you? Come on. Come and sit down." He threw several books (one of which Lupin knew had been stolen from Madam Pince at Hogwarts - though how Sirius had done it, he thought, was a story worth hearing) from the seat of a garden chair and directed Lupin to sit on it.

"How's your Mum?" He perched himself on the seat of the bike, sitting side-saddle.

Lupin shrugged. "She doesn't understand. She doesn't understand why I was bitten. She doesn't understand why her husband was murdered. So yeah, she's feeling like shit and she's not getting any better. If anything, she's getting worse. It's like watching her go mad."

Sirius frowned. "He was ill for ages, Remus. She-"

"He was thirty-eight," snapped Lupin. "Travers shoved something on him and I don't know what it was, but it shut down his brain. Toward the end, he couldn't even be left alone in the house. Thirty-eight."

Sirius bit his lip. "Remus, I don't know what to say. There's nothing I can say to make you feel any better."

"No, I know." Lupin smiled grimly. "I'm just not used to not being woken up by him singing in the shower, or him not making his fourth cup of tea when I come down for breakfast, or not having to race for the paper in the morning. Stupid things. I miss him, but I think I miss all the things I hated about him more than anything else. I'd give anything, Sirius. I'd give anything at all to go home and find him hurling abuse at the cat and telling me to cut my hair."

Sirius winced. "I don't understand, Remus. You know I don't. There's nothing I can say because I don't know what you're going through. I never will. I used to wish for a Dad. I used to want your home life. Even when your old man hated me, I used to wish he would like me. I miss him too, just not in the same way. I miss the way when any of us had a problem, you'd write to him and he'd send back some totally inappropriate piece of advice that could have ended with us being arrested."

Lupin laughed weakly. "I hated him for it. I always wanted a father I could go to when I needed advice. Dad's idea of advice was 'Don't eat yellow snow'. I could have killed him."

Sirius glanced at his watch. "What time do you need to get back?"

Lupin scoffed. "Pad, I'm eighteen. No-one is going to ground me if I'm not back by nightfall."

"Okay, well why don't you stick around for a bit while I get back to work and then we'll take this thing out."

Lupin blinked. "What have you done to it?"

Sirius met his gaze, acting the wide-eyed innocent. "Just touched it up."

"With a wand?"

Sirius smirked. "I've made it better. James is in the attic. Go straight up. He won't mind."

It was just past ten o'clock, after Lupin had helped James sort through box after box of things he had kept in his parents' home since he was a small child for several hours, when Sirius deemed it dark enough to go out.

"Are you embarrassed to be seen with me, is that it?" asked Lupin, without a trace of his usual sarcasm.

"Don't be stupid, Remus. Just get on it."

Lupin approached the gleaming black body of the bike as one might approach a guillotine.

"Hop on then. Hurry up. We haven't got all night."

"I don't see why we couldn't have done this this afternoon."

Sirius flung a helmet at him, hoping it would drown out his protests. "I couldn't let the Muggles see."

"Couldn't let the Muggles see what?"

Sirius smirked and turned the key in the ignition. The bike roared into life and Lupin's arms wrapped instinctively around Sirius' shoulders, clinging on for dear life as it rose into the air by first a few inches, which at the speed Sirius liked to drive, became miles too quickly for Lupin's liking.

"What the hell is this?"

"It's a flying motorbike, Moony."

At high altitudes, Lupin's easy sarcasm deserted him. "You bastard."

CLICK!

"Has James got my camera?"

"Either that or his leg just broke pretty badly."

"If he's taking photographs of me like this, I'm going to kill him. I swear, I will kill him."

Sirius laughed. "You're not capable of killing a fly, Moony."

"Let me down!"

"Nope."

"Let me down!"

"No. Not so you can kill my best friend. I'll drive over the Bristol Channel and push you into it."

Lupin's arms tightened around Sirius. "Don't you dare."

"If you don't let go, we'll crash anyway. I can't fucking breathe here!"

Lupin refused, muttering a string of profanities Sirius recognised from the lips of Mrs. Lupin.

"Shit! Fuck! Buggeration! Mother of God! Shit! Fuck! Buggeration!"

"Moony, let me breathe!"

Lupin relented and clutched at Sirius' arms. "You're not dropping me. How high are we?"

"Not high enough."

Sirius accelerated and the bike rose higher.

"Glory be to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning is now and ever shall be. World without end. Amen."

"Remus, if you want to be closer to God, I can take you there."

"Piss off."

Sirius laughed. "Do you want to get down?"

"Wherever might you get that impression?"

The bike descended into a little field and landed with a soft bump that made Lupin wince and shift awkwardly in the seat.

"You okay?"

"Fucking dandy." Lupin took a deep breath and peered into the darkness. "Where are we?"

Sirius shrugged. "I'm fucked if I know."

"That's handy. Which way were you flying?"

Again, Sirius only shrugged.

"Oh, well isn't this fantastic?" Lupin sighed. "Remind me never - and I mean never - to go anywhere with you ever again."

"Moony, you don't mean that." He grinned. "I'd be lonely."

Lupin raised his eyebrows. "You cannot comprehend the enormity of the fuck I do not give." He froze and pulled out his wand.

"Remus, what is it?"

Sirius, not entirely sure whether Lupin was winding him up, reached for his and clutched it in his hands. He was unsure whether this was an elaborate joke or an attempt to duel him. Neither offered happy outcomes.

Worse, Lupin's senses were second to none. He could practically see in the dark and terror had chilled Sirius' blood at the thought that his friend might be able to hear something he couldn't.

Lupin whipped round, wand in hand. "Put your hands in the air!"

The offending sheep stared dumbly back at him and Sirius punched him in the arm.

"Dickhead. I was scared shitless."

Lupin frowned. "I didn't hear a sheep. I heard footsteps."

A pair of cold eyes glinted in the darkness.

"Lovely evening," said Sirius. "May I ask where we are?"

Lupin noted the presence of a rifle and tried not to roll his eyes. "Hello. We're a bit lost."

"What are you doing in my field?"

Sirius gestured to the bike. "Moonlit picnic."

Lupin winced. "Excuse us. Just a second." He led Sirius further away and hissed, "Do you know what that is in his hands? It's a gun. It will kill you if he points it at you. Stop taking the piss and let me do the talking."

"Stop growling at me, Moony. You're frightening the sheep."

Lupin glared at him and returned to the tweed clad landowner. "Um…we broke down. Which way to Fulham?"

"That's in London."

"Yes," said Sirius, "we know that. Which way?"

"How did you get here from London?"

Sirius climbed on the bike and reached for his keys. "We walked. Remus, get on. I'll figure it out."

"Sorry," said Lupin, doing as he was told.

"Shall we take a lamb back for Peter?"

"Shut up. Never," said Lupin as the bike roared into life, "expect me to leave the house again if you are involved in the venture."

"It helped you forget about your old man for a bit, didn't it?"

Lupin said nothing, only too aware that this was true.

James handed Lupin his camera. "Where the hell have you been?"

Lupin merely looked at him and said, "Ask Sirius."

"Prongs! Come on! Your turn!"

James paled and Lupin smiled wryly.

"Enjoy," he said, nursing his camera as though it were a child he thought he would never see again.

"Come on, Jamie! Are you coming or not?"

James met Lupin's eyes. "Tell Lily I love her and I want a fancy funeral with 'Staying Alive' playing, all right? Thanks, Remus. I owe you one."

Lupin laughed. "Don't put me through another bloody funeral."

James grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it. You're not getting rid of me that easily."