Chapter 14: Enter the Werewolf

Sans's room was messy, as should be expected. It was one of the smaller rooms on the third floor, and likely wasn't technically meant to be a bedroom in the first place. The bed—well, just a mattress, really—took up most of the floorspace, leaving just barely enough space for the door to actually open. Both the bed and its sheets, which were wadded up in the corner, had actually been commandeered from another room. There was also pile of socks, a few books snagged from the library, two pillows, and a small box of clothes.

Sitting on his mattress, lazily flipping through a book on wizarding history even though he wasn't really absorbing any of the information, Sans yawned. And then, rather suddenly, a loud and very happy whoop of excitement jerked him from his distracted page turning.

What had happened was clear: three days after sending off the tiny owl, Sirius had finally gotten a reply.

Sans quickly sent a net of blue magic through the house, aiming to shut up the annoying painting before she could get screeching. It's a bit trickier to use blue magic without having line-of-sight on the target, but, with Sirius being who he is, Sans had gotten some practice over the past few days.

Deciding not to return to his unproductive not-reading, Sans teleported from his messy room and into the mostly empty dining room. There was quite a bit of space, since the once-large wooden table had been magically resized and most of the chairs were stacked in the corner. They only needed two, after all. Sirius was sitting in one, while Hedwig was perched on the back of the other.

"Good afternoon, Rattles!" Sirius greeted with a broad smile, waving him over with his mug of tea. "You're finally awake, and just in time!"

Sans had actually been awake since uncomfortably early in the morning, but he had decided his time was best spent lazing around his room rather than lazing around in the rest of the house. Irregular naps had become something of a habit during the resets; in addition to the nightmares that made trying for a full night's rest completely unappealing, there was always the disorienting possibility of abruptly waking up due to being jerked through time so… well, he didn't actually sleep through nights anymore.

Praise be to naps.

"what can i say, i was bone tired."

Ignoring the pun—it was one he'd heard before—Sirius set aside his drink to flip through the mail. He had apparently gotten all three replies in one, since Harry's owl, a beautiful snowy bird at least an order of magnitude more elegant than Pigwidgeon, had brought letters from each of the kids. However, there were four letters instead of just three, and the odd one out was addressed to Sans.

Technically it was addressed to 'Rattles', but same difference.

Sirius reached across the table to hand it over. "That'd be from Hermione, I'd bet." He smiled knowingly. "Probably decided to bypass me entirely and just ask for answers directly from the source."

Tearing open the envelope, Sans found… wow, a lot of questions. An impressively long bulleted list filled the majority of the parchment, and while some were fairly simple—the first one was just asking for his name, since she rightly guessed 'Rattles' was a nickname—others had significantly more depth. Some of them even branched out into 'if so' and 'if not' sub-questions. He stared at the paper for a long minute while Sirius opened his own mail.

"man, and none of them are multiple choice." Sans flipped it over and found that the list continued on the back. "does she want an essay or something?"

In a frank deadpan, Sirius answered, "Yes."

"…oh."

Grabbing a banana from the bowl of fruit sitting in the center of the table and taking the seat opposite his friend (momentarily disturbing Hedwig's perch on the chair), the skeleton settled down to read through the letter more closely. The true question of the day became whether or not he should actually bother answering all of her questions, and as he read farther down the list he became more certain that even answering half of them wasn't all that likely.

It would just be too troublesome.

Not to mention he had no real desire to approach a lot of the later ones. Take, for example, any of the questions asking about his personal history. There were also a few wanting specifics on how he had managed to get Sirius out of his makeshift prison cell, and there was no way he'd try and explain the mechanics of folding space-time coordinates to her.

"Oh, right!" Sirius suddenly exclaimed, apparently reminded of something by the letter he was reading. "That would be later this summer, wouldn't it? How could I nearly forget the Quidditch World Cup!"

Sans, who had begun eating his afternoon breakfast of a single banana, asked, "that's the, uh… broomstick game thing, yeah? maybe it was just swept under a mental rug."

"I can't let such carelessness fly, Rattles," returned Sirius with a grin.

"guess you need to clean up your act, then." The skeleton paused to finish off his banana and toss the peel onto Sirius's dirty lunch dishes before adding, "nice one, by the way."

"Thanks. Anyway, I'm glad Harry'll be able to go see…" Sirius drifted off, a puzzled look on his face.

It didn't take Sans long to figure out what the issue might be. "did, or rather, will something happen there? other than sports, i mean."

"Yes, there was definitely something." He closed his eyes, brow furrowed as he tried to remember everything he could. "It was in the papers. I think… a Death Eater attack?"

"that seems like, ya know, a major thing you probably shouldn't have forgotten," Sans remarked, brow raised.

Sirius just shrugged. "I had other things on my mind. Anyway, do you suppose we should do something about that? Tell someone or something?"

"who would you tell?"

"Uh." Sirius leaned back in his chair, picking up his tea again and thinking about his (very limited) options. Then he slowly nodded and acknowledged, "…That's a good point."

"i have those sometimes."

After another few minutes of considering silence, the wizard finally suggested, "Perkins, maybe? But I'm not sure he'd be able to do much, since he's not an Auror or anything like that."

Sans didn't know nearly as many people, but he thought through those he had heard of. "i guess bumblebee would have the political sway, at least from what you've told me."

"'Bumblebee'?"

"that dumbledore guy," he clarified with a shrug. "since it seems to me that he needs to mind his own beeswax sometimes."

Having just taken another sip of his tea, Sirius almost choked on a snort of laughter and had to cough a bit to catch his breath. "Don't you think that might be a bit…" He cleared his throat again, blinked, reconsidered, and finally smiled wryly. "Alright, so you might have a point. Besides, I'm not sure I want to deal with him quite yet."

"understandable. maybe send an anonymous letter?"

The wizard paused mid-nod, having thought of something. "Oh, now there's an idea. Or I could just tell Remus when he visits and have him deal with Dumbledore."

"remus is… uhm…" Sans stalled out, not quite remembering right away, and he absentmindedly tapped his finger on his chin with a quiet clink as he thought back. "your old school friend, i think."

"Got it in one," Sirius said, smiling fondly. "I'm planning on sending him a letter. You know, assuming Hedwig is fine with a detour on her return trip."

The snowy owl hooted agreeably from her perch on the back of Sans's chair.

"take that as a yes." The skeleton lazily waved his hand at the bowl of fruit, using blue magic to snag an orange and hover it over to himself. As he carefully peeled the fruit, he asked, "so he's gonna visit soon?"

Sirius took a sip of tea and nodded. "Yes, or, well… hopefully. I haven't sent the letter, obviously, so I don't really know." His tone didn't change much, still sounding relaxed on the surface, but Sans heard a slightly fragile, uncertain edge to the statement that suggested his friend was worried.

"right, then will we need to set up a tea party for his eventual visit? i haven't found the fancy dishes yet," Sans said with a grin, hoping to reassure Sirius both with the joke and his trust that there would be a visit.

It apparently worked, since Sirius's smile, which had become a bit brittle, brightened into something more genuine. "I was thinking more along the lines of pulling a prank, but if you'd rather—"

"no, no, no," Sans was quick to interrupt, "tell me more about this plan of yours."

The prankster was happy to do so, laying out his remarkably simple scheme in one brief sentence. "It's simple really, we just introduce you to him."

"i guess meeting a bunch o' bones like myself would—"

Sirius held up a hand, cutting him off. "Not quite. You see, we introduce you with the glamour. But here's the trick: sometimes you don't actually have it on. Subtle stuff, like whenever he's not looking right at you or something."

"oooh," he hummed. "how spooky. i can do spooky. ominous footsteps, especially—very good at those."

It had looked like Sirius was about to continue his train of thought, but Sans's comment derailed him somewhat and he couldn't help but ask, "Do skeletons take classes on crafting scares, or do you just have an odd hobby?"

Though nothing about his outward expression changed in the slightest—maybe the whole no-flesh thing really did help with keeping a straight face—Sans suddenly looked more… shadowed. And then it passed, having come and gone in an instant.

"welp, practice makes permanent," Sans said without missing a beat, tone light but maybe just ever-so-slightly more cynical than usual.

Taking another sip of tea, Sirius decided to leave that apparently distressing line of questioning for some other time and returned his attention to the potential prank. "Plus it's like hitting two birds with one spell: not only do we get to mess with him, but we also get to use him to test the effectiveness of the disguise."

"so… we have a plan?"

"You don't have to sound so surprised," Sirius groused. "We've had plans before."

Sans grinned, thoroughly unconvinced. "history begs to differ."

"Hey, they were technically plans." He didn't bother trying to defend further than that: Sans had a point, after all. Summoning paper and a quill from the library and pausing briefly to gather his thoughts, Sirius began penning a letter to his old school friend.

=X=X=X=

Remus hadn't known what to think.

The letter had arrived at breakfast, dropped quietly onto the sill of his kitchen window, open despite the light drizzle outside. At the time he only glanced over at the unexpected mail, curious but not really curious enough to stop sipping his morning tea and nibbling on his toast. It wasn't until he got up, washed his plate, and poured himself another cup that he actually looked at it again. Remus had picked it up, mentally going down a list of the people who would actually bother writing to him in the first place. It was a depressingly short list.

Then he saw it: his nickname written across the front of the slightly damp envelope in a very familiar scrawl.

It was from Sirius.

Sirius.

Which was, of course, why that evening found him standing in the rain on a street corner in muggle London.

The neighborhood, while not entirely falling apart, per se, was certainly not holding up very well. Just look at the buildings, all peeling paint, broken windows, and dead plants. It was basically a checklist of undesirables. Trash and scraps of rubbish drifted in the rapidly forming puddles, and a distinctly rotten smell mixed in with the rain. Overhead, one of the streetlamps couldn't seem to decide whether it should be lit up or not, settling instead with flickering on then off then on again at random.

Remus grimaced in discomfort as he shifted under his umbrella, nervously scanning the streets for any sign of his friend and the mysterious 'Rattles' mentioned briefly in the letter.

"heya, pal. whatcha' waiting out in the rain for?"

The werewolf startled, unused to being snuck up on (for good reason), and turned his head sharply to his left. Standing there, calm as can be, was a young kid with snowy white hair; he was grinning broadly, as if he hadn't just nearly given Remus a heart attack. A bit damp from the rain, the boy's hair frizzled wildly in whatever direction it wanted. This did a good job of matching the haphazardness of the rest of his appearance. He was wearing pajama pants several sizes too large for him, the legs rolled up to his knees in an unsuccessful attempt to keep them dry, and a blue not-certified-for-rain jacket. His umbrella, while open, didn't seem to be doing much to keep his lower half from getting soaked, but the boy didn't seem to mind.

However, one point in particular caught Remus's attention: "You're… not wearing any shoes?"

"they'd get wet out here, duh." The kid's smile widened a touch farther as he kicked his bare foot in one of the puddles, sending up a small splash that sparkled in the flickering streetlight. "you saying maybe i shoe-ld?"

"I'm saying, well—" He paused, confused and concerned in nearly equal measure. "You're not cold?"

The question was waved off with a shrug. "nah, it's remarkably hard to chill me too the bone, despite everything."

Now it was mostly confusion. Remus was about the ask what could have been meant by that, but was stopped short when the wolf in him noticed something: while the boy smelled mostly like tomatoes, freshly fallen snow, and something almost supernatural that he couldn't quite identify, there was also something very familiar.

If he tried to describe it, he'd say it was the smell of friendly, mischievous smiles. And, for some reason he had never figured out, blueberries: a friend he had foolishly spent twelve years trying to forget.

Hesitantly, Remus asked, "Are you… Rattles?"

"that i am," the kid said with a flourish, sweeping his umbrella to the side in a dramatic bow regardless of the rain. "and the name's actually sans. do with that what you will. what gave it away?"

"Just a feeling," he replied, not wanting to go into the details of, well, smelling someone.

The answer might not have been very satisfying, but it seemed good enough for Sans. With a lazy shrug, the boy just turned and began walking away. Then he paused, since the werewolf hadn't moved.

"well, you coming?"

Remus nodded and, gathering his wits and his courage, followed after the strange kid. As they walked, he looked up and down the street: dark and dim in a way that couldn't be entirely credited to the dreary weather. It wasn't somewhere he'd usually want to visit, even if this was a special case. Still. "Where are we going?"

Sans stopped short. "oh right, i need to tell you the thing."

"What?"

"the thing," he repeated, glancing back over his shoulder at Remus. "our secret hideout is at number 12 grimmauld place."

For a second—granted, a very brief second—Remus didn't quite process just what that random bit of information meant. After all, he didn't really need to know the address when Sans was right there leading the way. Then his eyes widened in surprise.

Sirius had cast a Fidelius, and he trusted Sans enough to make him the Secret Keeper.

Something inside him was a bit jealous of that trust, but he pushed it aside. He wouldn't have deserved that trust anyway: he hadn't been there, he should have been there for Sirius twelve years ago…

But he hadn't been.

As the two of them continued down the rainy street, Remus silently decided; if Sirius trusted Sans, then Remus could—should—trust the boy as well. It was the least he could do.

The next time they stopped, it was in front of an especially grim and depressing looking townhouse marked with the number twelve.

"yo, paddy-paws!" Sans called, walking up to the entrance but staying suspiciously off to the side. "he's here!"

The boy's caution was justified instantly as the door burst open, there was a strangely shimmery sounding crackle, and then a spray of technicolor glitter launched past him and directly at Remus. It was fast, and more than that it was mostly unexpected.

Mostly.

Remus hadn't been a part of the Marauders for nothing; his wand was in his hand and casting a reflective shield almost before he realized it. Sure he didn't quite get all of the sparkly stuff, but if he was left looking a bit more shimmery than usual, the door was positively bedazzled.

As was Sirius, grinning like an imp whose joke went perfectly as intended, despite all the glitter on his face and in his hair and coating his clothes. His eyes gleamed with the light of that familiar devil-may-care attitude, lit up in a way he simply hadn't been at the Shrieking Shack. He looked… happy. Far more settled and whole than the man he had seen just a few days prior. This man was more than just freed from his physical prison cell: he was healing.

There was nothing Remus could do but smile back and laugh—happily laugh in a way he hadn't even thought he could manage anymore. And, for the first time in a long time, he felt like everything would actually turn out alright. Not return to what had been, but perhaps something like it.

Because the man who had once been his best friend was still his best friend: he hadn't broken.

Author's Note:

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Undertale.

Just a quick note here, this following month is gonna be hectic. I'm finally moving back to the US, but first a friend and I will be sightseeing around Europe for a month. Updates will still come out as usual, but since I'll be writing while I'm on the road the chapters might be a bit shorter. We'll see how it all works out.

Anyway, thanks to everyone enjoying what I'm writing! I hope you'll stick around to see where the story goes.

FanGirl: Really? I didn't know that Gaster Blasters were canine, but that makes sense. Snape's mistake is likely the same as my own: he saw the size and the bits that look like horns and decided it looked pretty draconic.

2o11ux: Sssh, don't give it away. I'm sure Sirius thinks he's being sneaky.

EmPro8: As of right now things are slotted to go majorly off track by the end of this year. The story will definitely see Voldemort dunked on eventually. Thanks for the other suggestion, by the way. And yeah, messing with characters is great.

PEDAwriter: I do like my characters to keep their secrets.

See ya on the flipside, everyone!