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Chapter 16 - 2.6 or "We Just Have to Become Not Human"

For the first time since he had arrived at Hogwarts, Remus did not return to his dormitory on the night following the full moon. His recollections of his tenure in the hospital wing were hazy at best, blurred by the sharp pain caused by having to regrow all of his fingernails and thick healing potions administered by the ever-patient Madam Pomfrey. His physical discomfort, though, was nothing compared to the excruciating agony of not knowing what had become of his three friends.

Oh, he had not attacked them, of course. Not only would he know instinctively if something that terrible had occurred, but he also knew he would be sitting in a cell in Azkaban if the worst had transpired. But the truth of it was that Remus couldn't remember anything that had occurred in that house after James, Sirius, and Peter had shown up so unexpectedly (so stupidly, he tried not to think). His begging them to leave was the last memory he could grasp at before the darkness had taken over. So they must have gotten out in time – thankfully – but this fact did little to quell the terror and humiliation he felt at the thought of them having been there at all.

Madam Pomfrey released him from her charge after lunch on Tuesday, and Remus stopped briefly in Gryffindor Tower to fetch his books before hurrying to the Charms classroom concurrent with the bell. The classroom was full and, though he was the last student to arrive, his usual seat next to Peter and in front of James and Sirius was empty and waiting for him. He took it gratefully, whispering a quick "hello" to his three friends, but their responding greetings were strained, their smiles more forced than usual.

Remus did his best to pay attention to Professor Flitwick's lecture on Engorgement Charms, but his mind continued to stubbornly wander back to the friends surrounding him. What had he done? What had they seen that would warrant their uneasy expressions? His anxiety only grew as the lesson continued. Generally, Charms was an environment that fostered talking and laughter. When Professor Flitwick turned the class back to them to begin practicing, however, the usual easygoing banter between the four boys was noticeably absent. Much to Remus's consternation, James, Sirius, and Peter remained quiet throughout, focused intently on their wand work. Their was no mischief-making or disruptions, no sniggering or dirty jokes about Engorgement Charms. The lack of chatter between them was unnerving, and by the time the class ended, Remus's uneasiness had crescendoed into proper angst.

He had just shuffled into the corridor with the throng of students making their way toward the courtyard for afternoon break when there was a forceful tugging at his sleeve. It was James, and he was pulling Remus in the opposite direction from the rest of the students, toward where Sirius and Peter waited near an out-of-the-way alcove. Several jostles and bumps caught him on his way toward them, but he had barely had time to recognize the pain of his sore muscles before he had reached their spot and Sirius was speaking.

"Are you all right? You've never been gone longer than one night before. Did Pomfrey find something out? What happened?"

"I…" Remus glanced around nervously at the students who hurried past them, and despite the fact that no one was paying the group of second years any attention at all, he felt very exposed. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I'm fine, I was j-just a little more…beat up than usual."

"Yeah," said James darkly, "we thought that might be the case."

"We were going to sneak into the hospital wing after curfew last night," said Peter, "but then we got a detention for skiving off Herbology and it ran late. We didn't want to wake you."

"And every time we popped by this morning, Pomfrey was on guard," Sirius told him. "So you're okay, then?"

"Yes," repeated Remus. "What happened the other night? I mean, you…you got out in time, right? Well, obviously – or else we wouldn't be standing here…"

James looked at him sharply. "You don't remember?"

"N-no," said Remus, stammering under the look James was giving him. They were all acting so very strangely. "I just remember you showing up right before…" He faded off and felt a surge of something unbidden and rather foreign to him rise up in his stomach. Anger. He was angry at them for following him, and he hadn't even realized it before now. He pushed it away. "We shouldn't talk about this here, anyone might overhear…"

"We're glad you're okay," whispered Peter. "When we saw you the other morning, we were –"

Remus swiveled toward him right as Sirius kicked the smaller boy in the foot.

"Peter!"

"What do you mean, you saw me?" Remus said, heart beginning to pound very fast. None of his three friends met his eye. "You were there? You came back?"

For three boys who lied to teachers on a regular basis, none of them was very good at hiding his guilt when faced with Remus.

"Well, we…"

"Er, you see…"

Realization – terrible, icy realization – came to him, and the horror of it obscured his vision for a moment. The missing fingernails…the broken shoulder…the throat raw from howling…

"You were there the whole time," he whispered, his voice a hollow quiver. "You…you didn't get out at all, and I…"

And then, through the deluge of tormenting thoughts that flooded him, there it was again: anger.

"We're sorry," said James, and for the first time since Remus had met him, he looked ashamed. "It was my fault, Remus. I thought it might help you if we went to sit with you before it started. I didn't think…we never would have if we'd have known…"

"I didn't…I didn't hurt any of you, did I?" croaked Remus.

"No!" said Sirius quickly, as the other two shook their heads with vigor. "No, of course not! We were locked in the bedroom the whole time, you couldn't get to us."

"Well," Remus started, but then he realized he had no words to finish the thought. He watched a few straggling fourth years hurry past them toward the courtyard. "Well…"

"We're sorry," said Sirius. "Really, Remus."

"No," said Remus, shaking his head dismissively. "No, you don't have to apologize. I could have…"

"It's not your fault, it was us…"

"We only thought…"

"I know," Remus cut across them, smothering any sparks of anger in his own guilt. How could he possibly be angry with them? They had discovered his secret and had stood by his side. They knew what he was and still wanted to associate with him. They had been trying to help, and they could have been maimed or killed or turned into something like him for it. He had no right to be angry with any of them, not now or ever. "It's okay. And I'm sorry, too…"

"No, it's not your…"

"I know," repeated Remus, his eyes locked on some Hufflepuffs who had stopped to chat across the corridor. "Look, can we not talk about this anymore? Anyone might overhear…"

Sirius and James exchanged a glance and then both nodded. Nothing else was said as the boys made their way toward the courtyard for break and, oddly, nothing else was said on the matter in the days that followed. Perhaps there was simply nothing that any of them could say to make it better, to make them forget what they had done and witnessed.

But the ubiquitous voice returned that day, telling Remus that something had changed irrevocably between the four boys. They knew now what he was, and not only in an abstract sense. They had seen him at his absolute worst, and there was a very good chance that, despite their assurances to the contrary, they were not okay with it.

"I can't believe you of all people dragged us to the library."

"Yeah, well, chalk it up to a yuletide miracle. Now, let me see, it should be 'round here somewhere…"

In the middle of December, about a week after witnessing Remus's transformation, Sirius had pulled James and Peter out of bed early one Saturday morning and insisted that they go down to the library to do some research on werewolves. The book that he had opened during his detention with Gin had been weighing on his brain. He kept thinking of it at the oddest times, feeling like it had been trying to tell him something…

"Here it is," he announced, pulling Deconstructing the Curse of the Werewolf off the shelf. James and Peter looked at him skeptically.

"How's a book supposed to help Remus?" James asked.

Sirius grabbed a few other books on werewolves and handed them to James.

"Look, just because there's no cure, doesn't mean there's no other way we can help him," he said.

James shrugged but didn't argue. He looked around at the towering shelves.

"Maybe we should take some other books too," he said. "That way no one gets suspicious if they see us."

"Anyone who sees the two of you in the library is going to be suspicious no matter what," Peter pointed out.

"Fair point," said James, grinning. "I still don't want anyone wondering why we're looking into werewolves, though."

Sirius agreed and piled a few books on dragons, hinkypunks, and hippogriffs on top of his werewolf books. The three boys then made their way over to a secluded table, as far away from Madam Pince as they could be, and began reading.

"This is hopeless," said James after almost an hour of paging through the dusty volumes. Sirius looked up at him, startled. At some point in the hour he had become distracted by the memory of his last visit to the library and had been staring down at the page in front of him in an unfocused daydream. "There's nothing in any of these that can help. Most of them are about how to kill werewolves...it's disgusting."

"Not this one," said Peter, holding up a flimsy little book between his thumb and forefinger, as if disgusted by it. "This one's all about how to keep them as pets."

James grimaced. "Pets? They're still people! Just people with a…a problem! A…bad mood, if you will."

Peter snorted. "A bad moon…"

"Read this," said Sirius lowly, pulling his thoughts back to the task at hand. He ignored James and Peter's laughter regarding the pun and handed James Deconstructing the Curse of the Werewolf, pointing to the passage he had read several weeks ago.

Before James had a chance to read, though, a voice from behind them made them all jump.

"Sirius!"

Sirius turned and found Regulus approaching their table. All three of them immediately covered the werewolf books with others.

"Hi Regulus," Sirius said slowly. It was not until now, when he was face to face with his younger brother that he realized that he had not spoken to Regulus since the train ride before term had started. Whenever he spotted him in the corridors or at mealtimes, Regulus was always surrounded by a group of Slytherin friends. This made him unapproachable, in Sirius's opinion, and at all other times, Sirius had been too distracted by other happenings to seek him out.

"How are you?" he asked nervously.

"Fine." Sirius made sure any incriminating books were well concealed. He glanced uneasily at his friends. Now was not a good time for a family catch-up. "We're a bit busy, though. What do you want?"

Regulus frowned, looking disappointed at his brother's disinterest. "Oh…well, I just wanted to tell you that I got an owl from Mother this morning and she expects you back at Grimmauld Place for the holidays."

Sirius stared at him in horror. "What? Why does she care if I go back or not?"

Regulus shrugged. "She said to tell you that…" He paused and scrunched up his face as though trying to remember the letter verbatim. "…under no circumstances are you allowed to stay at Hogwarts this year and that she'll come to the school to forcibly Floo with you home if you refuse. I have the letter, if you'd like to read it."

"No, I don't need to see it," Sirius grumbled. "You can tell her I got the message."

Regulus nodded. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but seeing the miserable expression on his brother's face, he thought better of it and walked away.

"Christmas at Grimmauld Place!" moaned Sirius once he was gone. "It'll be torture!"

"Well at least it's only two weeks and not two months this time," said James, who was disappointed as well. He had been planning on having Sirius to his house again for the holidays.

"Why does she want me back there anyway? Evil hag. She can't stand me. She's just doing this to spite me."

"Maybe it won't be so bad," offered Peter. "Maybe she'll be nicer because it's Christmas."

Sirius snorted. "Yeah, and maybe Father Christmas will bring me a new, shiny, happy family on Christmas morning and we can all hold hands and sing carols together."

Neither Peter nor James was thick enough to press the issue, knowing how touchy Sirius was about his family. Leaving him to stew in his misery, they both went back to reading about werewolves. James looked down at the passage that Sirius had pointed out to him. It didn't seem all that interesting or important.

"Why did you want me to read this, Sirius?" he asked, pointing to the paragraph.

Sirius frowned. "I'm not sure. But I keep thinking about it ever since I read it a few weeks ago. It pops into my head at the oddest times."

"Well there's not much there that we don't know already," said James, looking back over the page. "All it says is that werewolves and humans have a unique relationship, blah blah blah, and that werewolves aren't a threat to anything but – Merlin's pants!"

Both Sirius and Peter jumped at James's exclamation. From across the library, Madam Pince's head snapped up to shoot them a disapproving glare.

"What?" asked Sirius eagerly.

"That's it!" James whispered, glancing back over at Madam Pince, whose eyes were still narrowed suspiciously as she watched them. "You're right! That's how we can help Remus."

Peter snatched the book from James and looked down at it eagerly with Sirius peering at it again from over his shoulder.

"I don't get it," said Peter. "Where does it say how to help Remus?"

James looked beside himself with excitement. "It says right there." He pointed at the same passage that Sirius had shown him. "Right there! It says that werewolves are only a danger to humans."

Sirius felt his mouth fall open as the impact of James's words became clear. "That means, we just have to become…not human."

"Animagi!"

"What?" hissed Peter. "You think we can become Animagi to help Remus?"

"Of course! It's perfect! All we have to do is become Animagi and then we can stay with Remus during the full moon. We can't stay with him as people, so we have to stay with him as animals!"

Peter looked back and forth between Sirius and James, who were wearing identical exhilarated grins. "But…but isn't it really difficult to become Animagi? I mean, I don't know if…I don't think I could…"

"Don't worry Peter," said James, knowing that Peter was not nearly as adept at Transfiguration as he and Sirius were. "We'll help you out. We'll all do it together."

He reached across the table to clap Peter on the shoulder, and Peter seemed to swell with happiness. "You really think we can do this?"

"Of course we can," said Sirius. "It might take a few weeks. We'll have to find some books on the spells behind it and everything."

He turned his head in every direction, looking around the library as if expecting a sign to point him to the Animagus section.

"We'll suss it out in no time," assured James. "I can't wait to tell Remus!"

Peter fidgeted. "Maybe we should wait to tell Remus."

"What? Why would we do that?"

"He's been acting a little off since…well, you know. And if it does take a little while, we don't want him to get his hopes up yet. We'll have to at least find the books and everything first."

Both James and Sirius stared at Peter for a moment, taken aback by his insight. "That's a good point," Sirius said, nodding slowly. "We'll get on the right track before telling him. With any luck though, we'll have it down by Christmas."

Sirius knew something strange was going on the moment he approached his mother and Regulus on platform nine and three-quarters the following week. He was expecting his mother to start berating him, or else to ignore him completely as she had done the previous summer, but he was mistaken. As he reached her, her taut face contorted into what could only pass as a tight-lipped smile. Her hand remained planted firmly on Regulus's shoulder, the talon-like fingernails blood red and gleaming even in the dull grey sunlight. Sirius did not smile back at her.

"Are we ready to go, then?" she asked in what might even pass as a pleasant tone. Sirius stared at her for a moment before shrugging and following the two of them out of the station, both curious about and suspicious of this new side of his mother.

The streets of London were covered in a thin layer of sludgy snow, which Sirius kicked at as he trudged along after his mother and brother. His mother was peppering Regulus with all sorts of questions about his first term and Regulus answered them all eagerly, happy to once again be in the comfort of her clutches. Sirius rolled his eyes and watched as two motorbikes sped down the street, their engines so loud he could feel the vibrations in his chest.

"Deplorable," his mother spat, also watching the motorbikes pass by. "Filthy Muggles and their obscene contraptions."

Neither Sirius nor Regulus responded to this. After a moment of glaring at the spot where the motorbikes had disappeared, Walburga turned and grabbed Sirius's shoulder, pulling him in line with the two of them. Even through the thick layer of his cloak, he could feel her fingernails digging into his skin.

"And you," she said, in a strangely polite tone, "how was your term at Hogwarts?"

Sirius stared up at her and then looked around at the bustling street, wondering if someone was playing a very elaborate prank on him.

"Erm, fine, I guess," he said weakly.

"Learning a lot? Making friends?"

"Yes," he said, not knowing how else to respond.

"You've grown," she said matter-of-factly, her words holding no maternal warmth or appreciation of the observation. She glanced toward his ankles. "You'll need new robes. We shall send off to have some made for you while you're here in London."

He shrugged again and glanced at Regulus, who was looking back and forth between the two of them with cautious hesitance. His mother must have deemed his silence sufficient though, as she let go of Sirius's shoulder and Sirius fell back behind her again, wondering what could possibly have caused such a sharp change in her behavior towards him.

She had turned her attention back to Regulus, and Sirius spent the remainder of the walk to Grimmauld Place behind them, watching the Muggles hurry past with their shopping bags swinging wildly. Some of the Muggles gave them strange looks, no doubt because of their long robes; most, though, were too focused on their own pressing holiday shopping to spare them the energy of a glance.

Kreacher was waiting by the door to take their cloaks when they entered Grimmauld Place.

"Kreacher," said Walburga as the elf bowed low toward her, "take the boys' bags upstairs and then make them both some tea to help warm them."

"Yes, Madam," Kreacher croaked before levitating the bags up the stairs and disappearing after them.

Walburga's newfound attitude toward her older son continued over the next several days, and Sirius fluctuated between annoyance at being required to actually speak to his mother when she questioned him, and curiosity as to the reasoning behind her restrained politeness. His father was traveling again, which Sirius was immensely thankful for, as he doubted very much that whatever abrupt sense of probity had overcome his mother would also keep his father's wand at bay.

Two days before Christmas and tired of wandering the bleak halls of his home, Sirius saw an opportunity to sneak out. His mother had mentioned something about a meeting at Gringotts and had taken Regulus along to pick out his very own owl in Diagon Alley, leaving Sirius alone in the house. He had snuck out a few times in recent years, at moments when he could not stomach being cooped up within the suffocating walls of his parents' house for another minute. If left alone, he had discovered soon after obtaining his wand how to unlock the many charms his father had placed on the front door, and he would boldly venture out into the run-down square. Once, during the summer before he had started Hogwarts, while his parents believed him locked in his room, he had even worked out how to scale the drain pipe near his bedroom window, though it was not an ideal escape, as the rusted metal had cut nasty trenches into his palms.

Now though, left to his own devices, Sirius had no need for daring multi-story circumventions. He simply undid the locking charms on the front door and brazenly stepped out of Number 12 and into the snowy streets of London.

He had not had the opportunity to sneak out at all during the previous summer, and he had nearly forgotten the exhilaration of being out on his own among the Muggles. No teachers to tell him he was out of bounds, no mother keeping him locked away in the house like a prisoner…he only wished James were there to explore London with him. He navigated through bustling shops, watching the Muggles do their shopping, talking and laughing with one another.

There was a distinct holiday cheer in the city, with the sounds of Christmas bells ringing around every corner. After an hour or two of wandering through shops and peering into pub windows, Sirius found himself on a park bench a few blocks from home, watching a group of Muggles play a very snowy game of football. The Muggles looked to be about his age, maybe a year or two older. To Sirius's untrained eye, the sole girl in the group was the best of them all, dribbling circles around the boys and scoring the majority of the goals.

The football game wrapped up and the group walked past, the ball tucked under the girl's arm. One of the boys looked at Sirius curiously as they walked by.

"Next time wear some proper clothes, mate," he said, "and maybe you can play instead of just gawking."

There were some chuckles from the group as they disappeared down the street. Sirius frowned and got up to make his way home.

Though he had always wished for Muggle clothes to wear during his escapades in London, he had never been particularly uncomfortable before in his robes. His parents had always commented on Muggle attire with so much venom that his main interest in it was the passing notion that donning Muggle clothes was a good way to enrage his parents. But now, he longed desperately for some Muggle pounds to buy himself a pair of jeans. He had some Galleons stashed away in his room, but no way to exchange them. Imagining his mother's reaction if he showed up to Christmas dinner in jeans instead of robes, he made a mental note to stop by Gringotts the next time he was in Diagon Alley.

"Where have you been?"

Sirius froze a step inside Grimmauld Place at his mother's voice. He grimaced. He shouldn't have stayed out so long.

"I was out," he said, and then he walked right past where she was standing in the hallway and began climbing the stairs.

"Out where, exactly?" Her tone was angry but not as hate-filled as it normally was when she addressed him.

Though he insolently did not stop his ascent up the stairs or even turn to look at his mother, he saw no reason not to tell her the truth. "Just wandering. Nowhere in particular."

"Stop right there!" she shrieked, and he paused mid-step but still did not turn to face her. This was more the reaction he had expected. "You do not leave this house without permission, you do not wander around amid Muggle filth, you do not socialize with scum unsuitable to scrape the dirt off of our shoes. Do you understand me? Do you understand me, you –"

She cut herself off before calling him whatever she had intended to call him. Now he turned back toward her, confused. She seemed to be wrestling with herself, as if it took all of her willpower to not hurl vitriolic insults at her son. She had never restrained herself from yelling at him before, from calling him awful things.

What was going on?

He shrugged at her, wanting desperately to get back to the solitude of his room. "Is that all?"

"No," she said, clearly still restraining herself. "We shall be having guests tomorrow for dinner. Some of the family will be joining us. I have left new robes in your room that you will wear to look properly presentable. Your father will be back and you will be expected to be on your best behavior. If one toe of yours crosses the line, you will be punished accordingly. Do you understand?"

Sirius fought back a groan. He loathed his aunt, uncle, and two of his three cousins. Their presence was the worst Christmas present his parents could give him. But the warning about his father rang in his ears and he knew this was not the time to argue.

"Yes, Mother," he said. Without another glance, he took the remaining stairs two at a time, longingly wishing that he had never returned at all.

"SHE DID WHAT?"

It was Christmas Eve night and Sirius's Aunt Druella had just informed them all that Andromeda Black had run off with a Muggle-born by the name of Ted Tonks.

"Filthy, no-good blood traitor…my own daughter…can you even believe it?" She hadn't even taken off her cloak yet, having made the announcement the second she stepped into the dining room at Grimmauld Place. Sirius, already seated at the long, mahogany table, sunk down in his chair and tried to hide his smile. Andromeda and a Muggle-born? It was brilliant.

His cousin Narcissa, looking haughty and not particularly ruffled by this family scandal, walked in behind her mother and took a seat as far away from Sirius as she could locate. Narcissa's father, Cygnus, entered quietly behind his still-ranting wife, made his way to the sideboard, and immediately poured himself a drink.

Sirius was thrilled to discover that his cousin Bellatrix was not with them, though the happy bubble deflated somewhat when his grandparents, Pollux and Irma, followed Cygnus into the room.

"My own daughter," Druella repeated, her voice grating on Sirius's ears already. "A direct descendant of Phineas Nigellus Black, running 'round doing Merlin-knows-what with that Muggle scum. And you!" she shrieked, turning on Narcissa, who looked back at her impassively. "You should have told me this was happening last year at Hogwarts. How dare you not report something like this back to your mother, something that could bring ruin upon our entire family!"

"I told you already, Mother," Narcissa said, examining the ends of her blonde hair in what appeared to be extreme boredom, "I didn't know she was seeing him last year. She kept it a tight secret. Of course I would have told you had I been aware."

Walburga, though, had apparently noticed the amused expression on Sirius's face. She narrowed her eyes at her son.

"Did you know about this?"

"What?" said Sirius, taken aback. "Me?"

"Did you?"

Every eye in the room was now on Sirius, who straightened indignantly in his chair. "No! Why would I know about this?"

Aunt Druella scoffed. "You little blood-traitors don't swap secrets, then?"

"It's not like we've got a club or something," snapped Sirius. "It's not as if I give a rat's arse about Andromeda's love life…"

His grandmother Irma, who had found the seat next to him, smacked him upside the ear. Sirius winced and ducked away from her.

"What the…"

"You watch your mouth young man, or you'll have your grandfather to answer to."

Sirius's grandfather Pollux, though, had taken a seat at the head of the table and did not seem to be paying them any attention at all. Indeed, he was deaf enough that Sirius doubted very much that he would have heard Sirius's retort, even if it had been shouted at full volume. Walburga, who was breathing heavily though her pointed nose, crossed the table to put a calming hand on her mother's shoulder.

"Leave him be, Mother." She turned now to her brother Cygnus, her tone icy. "You'll be disowning Andromeda at once, I presume?"

Cygnus did not answer immediately, but took his seat next to Narcissa and finished the rest of his drink in one long swig before nodding and saying, "We've already contacted Gringotts to have her removed from the trust."

"As you should have. No blood-traitors shall ever have access to the family fortune," Walburga said, her eyes glancing to her oldest son when she said 'blood-traitors.' "I'll grant you to remove her from the tapestry yourself after dinner, Brother."

Talk of Andromeda and Ted Tonks continued through the first few courses of dinner, all of it fevered and disgusted. Sirius tried his best to keep a defensive eye on his grandmother, lest she try to smack him again, and to keep his expression impassive. He tuned out the conversation and distracted himself by thinking of Animagi and their plan to help Remus. He, James, and Peter had spent the last bit of term trying desperately to find books in the Hogwarts library that could be of assistance in their quest to become Animagi, but they had been wholly unsuccessful. While there were dozens of tomes on the subject, none of them had any mention of the actual processes involved in becoming one.

"Bella, of course, is significantly involved," Druella was saying, and the name pulled Sirius from his daydream in which he was able to turn into a lion at will. He loathed his cousin Bellatrix, a sadistic girl about eight years his senior. He hadn't seen her since starting at Hogwarts, but he imagined her reaction to his being made a Gryffindor would rival his mother's.

"Of course she is," said Sirius's grandmother. "She's a clever girl, and very enterprising, she is. And we know Rodolphus has become involved with him as well. It's a good match. They will serve him well."

Interest piqued, Sirius glanced around at the faces surrounding the table. Both Regulus and Narcissa looked utterly bored. His Uncle Cygnus was on his third or fourth glass of scotch, and his pale cheeks were getting redder and redder as the evening wore on. Both of Sirius's parents were sitting regally in their chairs, ever the proper dinner hosts. Across the table from him, Aunt Druella had spent much of the meal poking the roasted duck around her plate but certainly not taking more than a few bites, no doubt concerned as always about her waistline. His grandmother next to him, on the other hand, had devoured every bite of her plate with slovenly vigor. And then there was his grandfather, who had evidently fallen asleep at some point during the meal and was drooling into his wine goblet.

"They are moving swiftly toward the Ministry, or so my contacts inform me," said Orion. "I imagine it will be a year, maybe two, before the Statute of Secrecy is disbanded and the revolution is complete."

Cygnus responded, his voice gravelly and cold despite the flush in his cheeks. "Well it has certainly been a long time coming. The Mudblood-loving Minister will be gone soon enough and we will once again have a proper pureblood leading wizardkind."

"And allowing the Blacks our rightful place within the fold, of course," added Druella.

Sirius's mother nodded. "You mark my words, he is the best thing that has happened to the magical world since Salazar Slytherin himself."

Sirius couldn't bite his tongue any longer. "Who are you talking about?"

Everyone at the table – with the exception of his grandfather, whose head was now lolling forward dangerously – looked at him.

"No questions from you," his father responded coldly, and Sirius knew well enough not to argue. "And sit up straight."

Sirius's first inclination at his father's command was to slouch farther down in his chair, but disobeying a direct order from his father would certainly lead to much worse than an ear smack later on. Plus, if he was sent away from the table right then, he wouldn't be able to glean any additional information, and the conversation had just turned interesting. Thus, he heeded his father and aligned his spine with the hard back of the tall wooden chair.

"Speaking of purebloods," said his mother in a strangely conversational tone that did not fit at all with the previous conversation, "Regulus informs us that you have become friends with the young Potter boy, Sirius."

Sirius didn't know if it was a question or an accusation of some sort. He glared at Regulus, who did not meet his eye.

"Yeah, so what?" he snapped.

"That's good," his mother said, exchanging a strangely conspiratorial look with Druella and uncharacteristically ignoring the bite in Sirius's tone. "I was glad to hear that you've consorted yourself with a pureblood at least. Do you know much about the Potters, then?"

"About the Potters?" Sirius repeated blankly.

"Yes, about the boy's family."

"Er…"

His mother waited patiently as Sirius began connecting the dots, though a few of the dots were still missing. His whirring memory recalled the conversation he and his friends had overheard a year ago in the Slytherin common room, where Lucius Malfoy had spoken about someone outside of Hogwarts who needed help recruiting younger students. Was this wizard the same person the Blacks had been referring to moments ago? And was his mother trying to manipulate him into providing them all information about James and his family?

Was that why she hadn't been as horrible to him since he had returned home? Because she was trying to butter him up?

He could feel his temper rising up within him like a serpent and he fought with all of his willpower to keep it at bay. This information could be used to his advantage if he kept his head.

"They're very rich," he said slowly. "James always has the best of everything. And…I think his dad used to make potions, but that's all I know."

It wasn't all he knew, of course, but he didn't want them to know that he had met James's parents, had spent Christmas the previous year with them.

"And they value the purity of blood?" asked his aunt.

Sirius shrugged innocently, thankful for all of his practice lying to adults at school.

"I don't know, it's never come up."

From the corner of his eye, he could see both Regulus and Narcissa watching him closely, but neither of them dared contradict him on the matter.

"Hmm," said Sirius's mother, clearly not satisfied with his lack of details. But she must not have wanted to force the subject in front of their guests, because talk turned back to Andromeda and Ted and nothing more was said about the mysterious man or James's family for the rest of the evening.

Tap, tap, tap.

Sirius stirred, untangling himself from his bedding.

Tap, tap, tap.

He looked around bemusedly. He had been having a very nice dream in which he had been riding the Hogwarts Express with Didina Murphy, but the details of it were already slipping away. His room was still very dark, but he could see a light purple creeping through the window and he knew it must be very early in the morning. He lit his wand, rubbed his eyes, and looked closer at the window; James's owl Ari was perched on the sill outside, a parcel tied to his leg.

Springing out of bed at once, Sirius threw open the window and allowed Ari to fly inside the bedroom, hooting happily. He stroked the bird's feathers as he untied the parcel, which was the size of a small book and had a sealed envelope attached to it. As the bird flew back out the still-open window, Sirius crept back into his bed and tore open the parcel first.

It was a small mirror. Confused and wondering if this was James's idea of some sort of joke, Sirius opened the envelope and read the short letter, bathed in the small pool of light afforded by his still-lit wand.

"Sirius,

Happy Christmas! Hope your family is treating you okay and you've been able to have a bit of fun this break. I found this in a run-down shop in Diagon Alley when I went Christmas shopping with my parents last week. It's bloody brilliant, and now you can make sure you look nice and pretty for all of your girlfriends, too."

Sirius looked at the mirror again, but there was nothing remotely interesting about it other than his own bleary-eyed confusion staring back at him.

"I found something else when we were out too, but don't want to put it in writing just in case my parents get a hold of Ari before this gets to you. I'll tell you all about it. I told Ari to deliver this early on Christmas, before your parents are awake. Just say my name into the mirror and it'll make more sense, I promise.

Be seeing you sooner than you think,

James"

The cold air flowing in through the open window caused Sirius to shiver and bundle under his blankets, though his interest in the strange mirror was more pressing at the moment than getting up to close the window. He picked up the mirror once more and – feeling very foolish – said "James Potter" into his own reflection. Immediately, his skeptical reflection disappeared and was replaced with James's face, a very familiar hellion grin plastered onto it.

"Is this for real?" Sirius asked in awe, looking at his best friend in the mirror. James was also sitting in his bed, his hair sticking up in every direction, mussed from sleep.

"I told you, didn't I? Bloody brilliant! Happy Christmas!"

"Well it sure is now," said Sirius, thrilled to be talking to someone he didn't loathe for the first time in a week.

"How's London?" asked James.

Sirius exhaled loudly and shook his head. "About as exciting as a flobberworm circus."

James snorted. "Figure out yet why your mum made you come home?"

"I think so," said Sirius. "She's been acting barmy – barmier than usual, mind you – talking to me and asking me questions about Hogwarts all week, as if she actually cares."

"Yeah?" said James, clearly thinking this meant a cuddly reconciliation between mother and son.

Sirius grimaced. "Yeah, but she doesn't actually care. She'd still like to see me burn in Fiendfyre, I reckon, she's just pretending she wouldn't. Maybe a regular fire, you'd have to ask her. But anyway, she's clearly got some sort of agenda, and then last night at dinner, my whole family was over – my grandparents and aunt and uncle and cousin – and they started asking me about you."

"About me?"

"Yep," said Sirius. "Asking me how much you care about being pureblood, and what your family's like, and all that nonsense."

"So what did you tell them?" James asked, brow furrowed.

"Well, here's the rub…I told them your family was rich and powerful and I wasn't sure how you feel about all that rubbish."

"But you do know how I feel…"

"Of course I do," said Sirius, waving a hand dismissively. "But they don't. And listen, it's a great plan, because if they're trying to use me to recruit you into some sort of Dark Arts club or something, then they'll let me see you over breaks."

James seemed to ponder this for a moment. "Why do you think they're interested in me?"

"Well that's the other thing I wanted to tell you," Sirius said, explaining in detail the conversation at the dinner table about the mysterious man.

James's frown became more and more pronounced as Sirius spoke. "Do you think this is the same bloke who Malfoy and them were talking about last year…"

"…in the Slytherin common room?" Sirius finished for him. "That's what I was thinking too."

"So we know there's some wizard out there who a bunch of Slytherins are joining up with and recruiting for, who's interested in recruiting more purebloods like me and you, who thinks Muggle-borns are filth and who your dad says will take over the Ministry soon. What else do we know?"

Sirius shrugged. "That my family is chock full of nutters who would follow a horklump around if it told them they were better than Muggles and Muggle-borns?"

James laughed. The room was getting lighter as the sun rose steadily outside the window. Again, Sirius considered getting up to close the window, but even with the cold, he was too comfortable at the moment talking to James to move. He extinguished the light of his wand and listened hard for sounds of movement in the house, but heard none, so he settled back in bed to talk more to his best friend.

"So you mentioned in your letter that you found something else but couldn't say…"

"Oh yeah!" said James excitedly. "One sec, I'll show you…" There was a great bit of jostling in the mirror and Sirius was suddenly looking at the ceiling of James's bedroom, James having apparently placed the mirror on the bedside table while he rummaged around for something.

"Here," he said, reappearing in the frame. "I found it in Flourish and Blotts and I think it has almost everything we'll need for our plan."

He held a book up to the mirror and Sirius could just make out the title of it: Animated Animagi: Connecting with the Beast Inside of You.

"It has the spells?" Sirius said excitedly. "It tells us how to become Animagi?"

"Mostly. It's a good starting point, I think. The shopkeeper at Flourish and Blotts was right helpful, though. He said there's another book…I wrote the name down here, hold on…" There was more jostling in the mirror as James dug around for something again. "Here it is…Advanced and Radical Human Transfiguration by Falco Aesalon. I made it seem like I was just writing an essay for school, but he said that they don't sell that book there, that you have to request a copy directly from the Ministry, so that they can keep track of wizards who are trying to become Animagi."

"Bugger," said Sirius, thinking hard. "How are we going to get our hands on a copy, then?"

"I don't know. But reading through this book," – James lifted the book into view again – "makes me think this is going to take longer than we thought. It's really, really advanced stuff, Sirius."

"Well we've got to try, right? I'm sure we can handle it, me and you are better than most of the fifth years at Transfiguration…"

"Yeah," said James, "but it's not just Transfiguration. There's a potion that we have to make too, just to get the whole thing started. And it's much more complex than anything we've done in class…"

"I guess we'll work on that first, then, while we're trying to figure out how to get that other Ministry book…"

Sirius started and cut off when a large tawny owl flew straight through the still-open window and dropped another parcel on his bed.

"It's from Remus!" he told James, recognizing the handwriting on the front of the package. He tore it open to find a short note wishing him a happy Christmas and a crimson Gryffindor banner.

"Nice!" he said, holding the banner up so that James could see it too.

"Very," nodded James appreciatively. "Where are you going to hang it?"

Sirius looked around his room, grinning at the thought of what his mother would say if he hung a Gryffindor banner in her house.

"You don't by chance know the spell for a Permanent Sticking Charm, do you James?"