a winterbluegreen star

Remus followed the stream of students heading out of the hall. It had been a wonderful feast and he felt quite restored by the 

meal he'd consumed. He realised, quite suddenly that it was the most relaxed he had felt so far and wondered briefly what exactly had been in the flask Filius had offered him a swig from. He was just thinking about how cosy it would be to light the fire in his room and get into bed with a book when he hit a wall of students, unmoving in the corridor that led to Gryffindor tower.

Remus craned over the heads of those in front of him. There seemed to be some commotion up at the portrait hole.

'Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick.’ Percy Weasley was calling back across the crowd.

In a moment, Dumbledore was there, sweeping through the students with Minerva just behind him. Remus ducked into the path they had cleared and as the students parted, his jaw dropped.

The portrait of the Fat Lady had been viciously slashed, strips peeling forward out of the frame, its usual occupant nowhere to be seen. Remus watched as a narrow section of canvas wafted gently to the floor at Dumbledore's feet. He looked up at the surrounding paintings, their subjects huddled together, whispering, and spotted a pale figure floating above them, bouncing excitedly from one foot to the other.

‘We need to find her,’ Dumbledore was saying. ‘Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady.’

Minerva turned to leave but Remus was still watching Peeves who was now floating upside down, his hands behind his head, a grin on his face.

‘You’ll be lucky!’ he cackled, drifting downwards towards them, until, his head hung right between Dumbledore and Remus. Remus could see the stitching on the back of his striped cap, that remained perfectly still on his head, immune to the effects of gravity.

Dumbledore didn't react. 'What do you mean, Peeves?’ he said, calmly.

Peeves’s grin faded a little, he turned himself upright, and adopted a simpering tone. ‘She's ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn’t want to be seen. She’s a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful.' He wiped a non-existant tear from his eye.

‘Did she say who did it?’ said Dumbledore quietly.

‘Oh, yes, Professorhead,’ said Peeves, his eyes wide in mock concern. He was floating very gradually back from Dumbledore, closer and closer to where Remus stood frozen in front of the torn portrait. ‘He got very angry when she wouldn’t let him in, you see.' Peeves continued, still moving, Remus had to take a step back to avoid him. ‘Nasty nasty nasty temper he’s got...' Peeves paused, grinning again and turned suddenly, leaning straight into Remus' ear before shouting: '...that Sirius Black.’

The crowd of children gasped and Peeves shot upwards, straight through the ceiling, cackling loudly. Dumbledore's eyes met Remus' for just a moment, cool and blue and Remus felt himself crumple slightly back against the picture frame.

Fuck.

*

'Homenum Revelio', Remus said, waving his wand into another classroom on the second floor as Minerva did the same further up the corridor. The students had been sent to The Great Hall while the staff searched the castle. They'd been at it for at least 45 minutes now, which struck Remus as a little futile - there was no way Sirius would have stuck around just to hide out in a random Charms classroom - but the look Dumbledore had given him after Peeves' announcement left him in no doubt that he must be seen to cooperate. He wondered if he'd been sent along with Minerva so she could keep an eye on him.

'Right', she said, turning back to him as she reached the top of the stairs. 'He's certainly not anywhere here, is he?'

For a second Remus wasn't sure if she was actually asking.

'Let's head back down to the Hall. I do expect Albus will want a word with you Remus.' She looked almost sorry for him.

When they arrived at the Great Hall, the floor was covered in sleeping students, snuggled in purple sleeping bags. Albus was meandering slowly between them, with Severus half a step behind him, whispering frantically in his ear. Snape scowled when he saw Remus, but Dumbledore smiled in the vaguely unsettling way he had, and continued towards them. Wordlessly he gestured for Minerva to take over his patrol, and for Remus to follow him into the same antechamber he'd been shown into on the first day of term. Dumbledore sat down and signalled for Remus to do the same.

'I know that we have already discussed this,' Dumbledore began, 'but in light of the evening's events, I do have to ask you again Remus. Do you have any idea how he might have got into the castle?'

Remus looked at his hands. They were woven with fine scars, now white with age, there was a tiny piece of dirt under the nail on his left index finger. Perhaps he had missed it this morning after his walk. Images flashed through his head: the face he'd maybe seen in the mist between the trees, a black dog in Harry's tea cup, the shack and the tree. He looked up at Dumbledore and met his cool gaze and imagined what it would feel like to tell him everything, would the weight lift? Would he gather all Remus' problems into his wise old arms and sort them all out? Would he have all their best interests at heart? Then another image appeared in his mind: an eleven year old boy, his face poking through red velvet curtains, smiling...

'As I have said before Albus, I don't know what Sirius is planning or how he might get into the castle. I don't know how he escaped the dementors at Azkaban and I don't know how he passed them this evening.'

He held Dumbledore's gaze and another memory surfaced. They had, of course, had this conversation once before.

'How long had Black been planning this? When he did he turn?'

'I've told you, I had no idea. Albus! Please. I've been away for months - doing your bidding! Let me see him and I will ask him, I will find out for you.'

'You must have had some suspicion. You were living together. When did he last speak with his brother?'

'What? Regulus is dead Albus, they hadn't spoken for years. Not since school. I haven't seen him for months! I had no idea until I got back! Where is he? If you let me see him I can find out!'

'He's in Azkaban Remus. He's not coming back.'

'Azkaban? Wha- But the trial?'

'No trial. He's not coming back.'

'You have no idea? None at all?' Dumbledore asked again.

'None.' said Remus, voice steady.

*

After his conversation with (interrogation by?) Dumbledore, Remus had returned to his rooms determined to take some kind of action. He tried to make a list in his head of the things he did know: Sirius was not in Azkaban and was somewhere nearby, he had managed to get out of prison and into the castle. He had possibly been at the edge of the forest that morning, and despite what Remus had told Dumbledore, he did have a theory about how Sirius was getting in and out of the grounds. Things he didn't know: why. Why Sirius had done any of it. Why he was doing what he was doing now.

The possibilities swirled in his mind. Dumbledore thought he was after Harry, that this was some mad mission to finish what he'd started and avenge Voldemort. But what would be the point in that? Other than to get himself killed taking down a teenage boy. Maybe he really was just insane? But he was being reasonably careful with what he was doing - he hadn't been caught yet. And Sirius would have known the tower would be deserted this evening , so why attempt a break in at Halloween and risk being discovered before he could get to Harry?

'Oh come on, it's my turn! You've had him for ages!'

'It's been about 5 minutes, Sirius. You've got to let everyone else have a go.'

'But he likes me best! Give him back Moons, he likes me best.'

Remus sighed and held out the little bundle that he'd had snuggled against his jumper. James lifted Harry carefully from him and placed him back in Sirius' waiting arms. Harry gurgled, opening his eyes only briefly before settling back to sleep.

'See!' Sirius said softly, gazing down with what Remus could still only have called adoration. 'He prefers it here.'

It hadn't made sense then and it didn't make sense now.

Remus sighed and rubbed his eyes. He should go to bed really, it was very late and it was cold, despite the fire burning in his grate. The wind was howling outside his window and he wondered if Sirius was somewhere warm. He hoped so.