a winterbluegreen star

On Wednesday morning, a letter arrived. Sirius had written to say that Fudge had visited him personally at the flat, to let him know a trial date had been set for the end of the week.

He was pretty sheepish about the whole thing. Sirius had written in swooping letters that belied a decade without use of a quill. It sounds like they've managed to get some of Peter's memories, so I'm appearing as a witness. Only another few days - don’t know if I am ready but want it over with. Meet me after? Let me know what time you can leave on Friday afternoon. P.S. tell Hagrid I've sorted it about Buckbeak. Ministry owed me one.

Hagrid wasn't at breakfast when Remus sat down in the Great Hall, but strode in moments later, a grin on his face and a roll of parchment in his hand. Remus watched as he hurried over to the Gryffindor table, laying the parchment down in front of Hermione who read it seriously for a few moments, before turning and beaming up at Hagrid.

Well, Remus thought, smiling to himself. That’s good.

Lessons were keeping him busy: exams were fast approaching and classes mainly consisted of revision of topics they'd already covered. Remus was enjoying it - it was extremely satisfying seeing the students' progress evident in their practice tests and mock practicals. He was developing an unusual exam for the third years, consisting of various tasks involving the creatures they had been studying, and was looking forward to seeing them tackle it.

‘How’s Sirius?’ Harry asked him, approaching Remus' desk after their lesson on Thursday afternoon. ‘It said in The Prophet the trial is tomorrow. That’s pretty quick isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ said Remus, as Ron and Hermione joined them. ‘Sirius is appearing as a witness though, not the defendant. They've extracted a memory from Peter that has cleared him. Hopefully nothing else goes wrong and it's all sorted by the end of the month.’ Remus blanched slightly at his own words. Please, he thought, don't let anything else go wrong.

‘I want to go to the trial.’ Harry said, ‘will Dumbledore let me?’

‘I don't think so, Harry,’ Remus replied. ‘Professor Dumbledore has allowed me to arrange to go down in the afternoon, but I don't think I'll be allowed in the room. I will write on Saturday and tell you everything though, I promise.’

Harry made a frustrated noise.

‘Can Sirius visit? Or call afterwards? I need to ask him things. You know he's my Godfather?’’

‘I do,’ said Remus with a small smile. We’ll see what we can do.’ He busied his hands, arranging papers neatly on his desk. ‘Now did you three get some good news yesterday morning?’

‘Oh yes!’ said Hermione excitedly, launching into the contents of Hagrid's letter.

*

When Remus arrived outside Courtroom Ten the next day, the trial had already been in session for several hours. He sat awkwardly on a wooden bench in the tiled corridor and waited.

‘I do think they’ll be a while,’ the young wizard behind the reception desk had told him, ‘it’s an important one today - the Minister himself is in attendance. You might want to go to the canteen or something - unless - do you know someone in there?’

Remus had made a vague noise and nodded at him and taken a seat, pulling out a book that he was unable to read. After what felt like hours, the huge wooden door opened and people began to file out - various Ministry wizards, followed by Dumbledore, who breezed past, nodding to Remus briefly, followed by -

‘Sirius!’ Remus called out, in spite of himself, feeling the eyes of the receptionist on him. ‘What happened, how did it go?’

‘Yeah,’ Sirius said, slightly breathlessly, ‘yeah it was fine. I didn't really have to do much - Albus sort of dealt with it and then - yeah I guess - I guess I’m free to go.’

‘And Peter?’ Remus asked, just as a small woman with round brown eyes emerged from the room, dabbing at her face with a handkerchief. She looked up at them as she passed, shaking her head slightly, but said nothing. ‘Was that -?’

‘Yeah.’ said Sirius. ‘We did meet her once I think, one Christmas at James’, do you remember? She never thought much of me. I don’t think today changed her mind.. Anyway yeah, Pete’s headed for Azkaban. Interesting thing was though, it looks like Voldemort didn’t go after him until just before - he wasn’t plotting it for ages or anything - there was no way we could’ve known.’

‘But the spy in the Order?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Sirius. ‘Someone else. Or no one maybe. Maybe just a rumour to make us be more careful with information.’

‘Maybe,’ said Remus, looking over to where Dumbledore had stopped to speak to a witch in the plum-coloured robes of the Wizengamot. ‘Let’s see if we can borrow an owl and send a note to Harry before we go. I told him I’d let him know how it went.’

*

At 12 o’clock the next day, Remus and Sirius met Harry, Ron and Hermione at Madame Puddifoots Tea Room.

‘Why did you want to come here?’ said Ron, looking around at the elaborate floral window display that had replaced the Easter bunnies.

‘Bit quieter than the Three Broomsticks,’ said Remus, just as Sirius said: ‘Remus loves hot chocolate.’

They entered and ordered, and sat down on spindly chairs at a cramped little table.

‘So how did it go?’ Harry said, immediately.

‘It was all pretty straightforward really,’ said Sirius. ‘The Aurors had managed to extract a memory from Peter that showed what really happened that night - the reveal of your location, blowing up the street, turning into a rat. That was all that was needed to prove my innocence and convict him instead.’

‘And now he's going to Azkaban?’

‘That’s what they said.’ Sirius shrugged. ‘Life sentence. Not sure if he’ll attempt an appeal.’

‘Good. He deserves to rot.’ said Harry.

Remus looked at him then, this boy with the face of his best friends. Who had already been through so much.

‘And what about you?’ Harry continued. ‘What do you do now?’

‘I - well I don't know,’ said Sirius, brow suddenly furrowed, his expression darkening slightly.

‘Are you three ready for the exams?’ Remus cut in, changing the subject.

‘Ugh, do we have to talk about exams?’ said Ron with a look of disgust, just as Hermione smiled and said ‘yes!’

Ron rolled his eyes as she began talking through their various preparations. It sounded like she had the boys well-managed when it came to their studies. Remus listened as she ran through their revision timetable, but his eyes kept flickering back to Sirius, who was now gazing out of the window between the paper blossoms and Harry who was watching him with a worried look on his face.

‘Professor Dumbledore has said you might be able to come and visit us Harry,’ Remus said when Hermione paused for breath. ‘In the summer. If you’d like to of course, so that you and Si-’

‘Are you serious?’ Harry cut him off, his eyes were wide. Sirius turned from the window to look at him.

‘No, he's Sirius,’ Ron said with a smirk, which earned him a kick under the table from Hermione.

‘Of course you are under no obligation,’ Remus continued, ignoring them, ‘we just thought it might be-’

‘Are you mad?’ said Harry. ‘Of course I want to come! When? Can I stay for the whole summer?’

Sirius’ face broke into a broad smile - the truest Remus thought he had seen since they had been reunited.

‘Not the whole summer,’ Sirius said, voice slightly croaky, ‘Dumbledore stressed that you have to go back to your aunt and we - we have some things to sort out,’ he glanced up at Remus, ‘but for a bit, definitely.’

Harry smiled. ‘I can’t wait,’ he said.

*

The May moon fell the following week. They had discussed at length what they would do about it - Sirius wracked with guilt about how many Remus had endured alone, but neither of them were in a suitable condition to manage it the old way, so Remus took his final dose of potion at school and flooed to the flat. A part of him had wanted to just deal with it himself at school, as he had been doing all year, but Sirius had been so desperate to help, he had relented. He was nervous - nervous about transforming in front of him after so long, nervous about doing it now, as an old man, nervous about the morning, but he supposed it would have to happen sooner or later.

When he arrived, Sirius was curled on the sofa, a blue fluffy blanket across his lap and a book in his hand. He looked up as Remus stepped onto the hearth and gave him a small smile.

‘Hey,’ he said softly, ‘how are you feeling?’

‘Not amazing,’ Remus replied, ‘but fine, you know.’

‘Yeah.’ Sirius hesitated. Remus could feel himself being examined. ‘I ate. I didn’t think you’d want dinner.’

‘No, you were right. I’m fine.’ Remus said again.

‘How long?’

‘Half an hour maybe,’ Remus replied.

Sirius held up one end of the blanket. ‘Come and sit.’

*
Remus awoke in the morning, naked save for the blue blanket, a big black dog pressed against his back. He lay there, still and quiet, concentrating on the warmth of the fur against his skin. The night had been uneventful, but he could remember it. The big black dog nosing at his wolfish face, curling up beside him, the comforting rumbling noise it made in its throat. The wolf had remembered his old friend. It had been - nice. He shifted slightly to ease the cramp in his shoulder and Padfoot stirred, raising his nose from between his paws and seeing Remus was awake. In a moment, he was Sirius again.

‘Hey,’ he whispered, ‘how are you feeling?’

‘Not amazing,’ said Remus, squinting in the light which was filtering through the blinds. ‘But fine - have we had this conversation before?’

‘I’ll get a pain potion,’ said Sirius, ‘and breakfast?’

‘Thanks.’

A potion and six slices of toast later, Remus was sitting up in bed watching Sirius rifling through the wardrobe looking for something. He was feeling a great deal better than he had after most moons.

‘I should get back,’ he said, ‘exams are starting in a week and I need to make sure they’re all ready.’

‘What have you got this morning?’

‘Third years,’ Remus replied. ‘It’s their last revision lesson and -’

‘Harry’s class?’

‘No, Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Harry’s class is this afternoon.’

‘You can’t ditch me for a bunch of Slytherins,’ Sirius said, throwing himself dramatically back onto the bed. ‘And Ravenclaws don’t need to be taught how to revise.’

‘Are you so bored you’re jealous of a bunch of fourteen-year-olds?’ Remus said, smirking slightly.

‘Yes!’ said Sirius, grinning back at him. His face turned serious, ‘no. But - what are you thinking though, about the job in general?’

Remus hesitated. ‘I’m going to give Dumbledore my notice. I really do love the teaching but I think - I think I need some time to - sort some things out.’ he vaguely gestured to the doorway, not sure what he was trying to say. ‘I don’t know. It feels like the right thing to do. I’ve made some great contacts this year with the magizoologists I’ve borrowed creatures from - there’s research to be done. And I want to be able to be there for Harry, not as his teacher, and I want to - ’

He broke off, looking at Sirius with eyes wide.

‘I don’t hate the decision,’ Sirius said, quietly, looking back. After a long moment he added, ‘I’ve got some research of my own I want to do. After that appeal document I started thinking. I heard a lot of things in Azkaban - whispers - rumours. I think I might need to go back to Grimmauld - it’s mine now - look into some things no one wants to look into. I think there’ll be plenty for us to do.’

*

Defense Against the Dark Arts was the final exam for the third years. On Thursday afternoon, Remus stood outside on the lawn with an obstacle course he had set up featuring the dark creatures they had learned about over the year. So far, both his classes had done well - a few mishaps here and there (Hermione had panicked at the Boggart he had trapped in a large trunk), but by and large Remus was pleased. Harry was the last pupil to complete the exam and as he climbed out of the Boggart trunk, Remus felt himself glowing with pride.

‘Excellent, Harry,’ he said, ‘full marks!’

Harry flushed with pleasure. ‘Thanks Professor,’ he said grinning.

‘Stay and give me a hand clearing all this up?’ Remus asked him, ‘it shouldn’t take long.’

‘Sure,’ Harry said, ‘there is something I wanted to tell you anyway… I had a bit of a weird Divination exam this morning…’

Remus, who had begun to clear the temporary swamp, looked up at him. ‘Usual Divination weird or weirder?’

‘Weirder.’ said Harry, a crease appearing between his brows. ‘Really weird actually. I think Professor Trelawney - I think she might have made a real prediction.’

Remus snapped closed the lid of the Hinkypunk box and put it down, turning to look at Harry properly, nodding at him to continue.

‘Yeah her voice went all weird and she said - she said something about Voldemort’s servant escaping tonight and setting out to help him rise again.’ Harry paused, ‘greater and more terrible than ever before.’

Remus felt a shiver of cold run through him. Harry was looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to know what to do.

‘Did she say anything else Harry? Who it was that would escape?’

‘No - just that it would happen tonight, before midnight. Then she sort of woke up, and she couldn’t remember what she’d said. It was really - strange’ Harry laughed nervously. ‘Still,’ he added, ‘she makes stuff up all the time right?’

‘True,’ said Remus, glancing at his watch. It was half past five, hours before midnight. ‘But I think this is one worth reporting to Professor Dumbledore.’ He waved his wand at the last of the swamp and stacked the Hinkypunk box on top of the trunk. ‘These guys will be OK here for a while - I’ll send one of the seventh years down to collect them. Let’s go and find him.’

They made their way up the main staircase in silence, Remus striding ahead down the long corridors. Surely not he was thinking, surely not, after all of this? Voldemort had plenty of servants… the Ministry was full of powerful ex-Death Eaters… Peter had only gone over to his side at the very end… They rounded the final corner, Harry having to jog a little to keep up.

‘Sour apples’, Remus said, and the gargoyle leapt aside.

‘Are you OK?’ Harry asked nervously as they stepped onto the spiral staircase. Remus had almost forgotten he was there.

‘Yes, yes fine.’ he said quickly. ‘Sorry Harry. Are you OK?’ He reached out a hand and rested it gently on Harry’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry about this, ok? Whatever it means, it’s not all on you. You know that right?’

Harry nodded. Remus wasn’t sure if he’d believed him.

As they reached the top of the staircase, the door opened. Dumbledore stood there, a piece of parchment in his hand, the Ministry seal visible at the top.

‘Ah,’ he said as he surveyed their anxious faces. ‘I’m afraid I have some rather bad news.’

*

On the last day of term Remus sat at the teachers’ table beneath red and gold banners. Their win of the Quidditch Cup had tipped the scale and Gryffindor had triumphed in the House Championship. Although he hated to admit it, he did feel a little smug, sitting there under his own house colours, one more time.

Following Peter’s escape, both Harry and Sirius had been inconsolable. Harry, distraught that he might have been able to prevent it, had he brought his knowledge of the prophecy to Dumbledore sooner, and Sirius, furious that justice was not being served. Remus was wholly more concerned with the part of the prediction that described bringing Voldemort back to power and had not been comforted by Dumbledore’s assurance that the Ministry had their finest Aurors on the case.

Remus had handed in his notice the day after the exams had finished. Albus had seemed disappointed, but not surprised and had accepted it graciously. ‘Do let me know if you ever change your mind,’ he had said. ‘There is always a place for you at Hogwarts.’ Remus had nodded awkwardly and moved the conversation onto Harry’s summer visit. They had agreed he could come for two weeks following the July moon. Remus was looking forward to it, but Sirius was almost unbearable in his excitement.

They had used the weekend after Peter’s escape to go down the Grimmauld Place. The house was in a foul state: wallpaper peeling, mould growing across the ceilings and a nasty surprise in every room. One of these was the Blacks’ old House-Elf, Kreacher, who, driven half mad by loneliness had neglected housework of any form and taken to hoarding heirlooms in a kitchen cupboard. Remus, who had never been there before, thought it seemed like a thoroughly awful place to grow up, but Sirius seemed to think the unplottable nature of the house made it worth restoring, and that it was probably full of information and there was no denying he needed a project. They had made a little progress, but were planning to return again, once term had ended, to begin the process of sifting through years of cobwebs and centuries of pure-blood relics.

As he gazed across the hall, he spotted Harry, sitting with his friends as he had done at the start of term feast. They were listening intently to something Harry was saying, a huge smile on his face as he gestured with his hands, telling his story, Ron was grinning at him, adding details here and there which were making Hermione laugh in spite of the disapproving look she had on her face. Neville was rapt with attention, his eyes wide in disbelief as Harry reached the climax of his story.

‘You’ve done a good job this year.’ Remus was pulled from his own thoughts by Minerva, who had come to sit beside him. ‘A lot of us are very sorry to see you go.’ She nodded towards the group of children he had just been watching so fondly. ‘And Filius hasn’t stopped talking about the game of chess you owe him.’

Remus laughed. ‘I’ll make it up to him somehow, I’m sure.’

‘I know you’re off to do important things.’ Minerva said, her eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘Look after them,’ she added softly. ‘And let them look after you.’

Several hours later, Remus took one last look around his classroom. He had returned most of the creatures to the lake, and banished the Boggart, and the shelves looked stark and empty without his books. He stood for a moment with a hand on the back of his desk chair, casting his mind back across the year. He thought about that night that had changed everything, looking over at the spot where Peter had materialised. He thought of Harry and the photographs and the memories. He thought of the lessons, all the raised hands and inches of parchment and curious faces. He thought as well, of four boys, sitting in a row, grinning behind their hands and passing notes. He picked up his briefcase and turned back into his room, reaching for the small pot of powder on the mantel.

A wonderful sight met him when he arrived in the fireplace at the flat. Sirius was sitting cross-legged on the floor, a folder full of papers he’d taken from his father’s office at Grimmauld Place open in front of him, parchment spread across the coffee table. He had one quill in his hand and another between his teeth.

‘Found anything today?’ he said as he stepped from the green flames, dropping his briefcase beside the sofa.

‘Possibly,’ said Sirius. ‘There’s a lot of information to go through. Father might’ve been a bad man but at least he helpfully recorded it all. Honestly. I knew things were going on there but I had no idea how -’ he tailed off as he looked up at Remus. ‘How was the last day?’

‘Good,’ said Remus, sitting down beside him and smiling. ‘Really good. But glad to be home.’

‘Me too.’ said Sirius, smiling back. ‘Glad to be home. With you.