Hedwig pecked at Remus's cheek again, then looked at him without any interest whatsoever and flew back to Sirius's side. She leaned over the parchment he was reading--probably re-reading--as if trying to puzzle out what Harry had said.

"Well?" Remus asked, tapping himself with his wand to break the various appearance charms he'd used all day. He couldn't feel anything when his hair went from white to speckled brown, but the beard and mustache disappeared with a quite tangible itch. He pulled off his glasses and scratched his chin. "What does he say?"

Sirius straightened up and flapped the parchment importantly. "Dear Snuffles," he read aloud. "Hope you're okay, the first week back here's been terrible. I'm really glad it's the weekend."

"That doesn't sound like Harry. Isn't he usually rather glad to get back to school? What's happening there?"

"Oh, it gets better," Sirius said. "We've got a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Umbridge--"

"Umbridge?" Remus repeated, unable to help interrupting, bile rising up quite unexpectedly after the pleasant day. "Dolores Umbridge?"

"He doesn't say her first name. He says, She's nearly as nice as your mum."

"That about sums it up." Remus pulled off the sport jacket he'd been wearing and pulled a robe out of the wardrobe. "If it's Dolores Umbridge... teaching!"

"Your class, too, mate."

"That bloody... woman... is the reason I couldn't take the position back no matter how desperate Dumbledore was. He asked me. But it turns out this... Umbridge... pushed through a bit of legislation after our misadventure two years ago. I could stand it if she'd just said, 'Remus Lupin isn't responsible enough to teach'--I wouldn't like it much, but I could understand it--but she didn't. She's made it all but impossible for any werewolf to work anywhere in the wizarding world. I couldn't get a job clipping the hedges at Hogwarts." He shook his head, some of the sudden anger dissipating into guilt. "I'm not a very popular member of the pack, as you might have guessed."

"That wasn't your fault."

"I didn't take the Wolfsbane Potion."

"All right, that was your fault." Sirius shrugged. "But even if you'd eaten someone that night--which you didn't--that doesn't mean anything about anyone else."

"That's true enough." Remus pulled on the robe and tossed his glasses into a drawer in the roll-back desk. "Which is why Dolores Umbridge has no business teaching anything, let alone Defense Against the Dark Arts. Her notion of Defense is pushing some paper around at the Ministry."

Sirius nodded eagerly. "Right. Sounds like a right nasty one, this Umbridge."

Remus had been planning to let it go, but Sirius seemed to be enjoying the turn of the conversation. "You've no idea," he went on, raising his voice and getting up to pace. "I looked into it. She's tried to tag merpeople as well."

"Merpeople!"

"Merpeople. Can you believe it? She was voted down, but not by much. She's not fond of centaurs, either."

"I wonder how she's taking Hermione's stance on house elves."

"I doubt Hermione will be allowed to get a word in edgewise." Remus struggled to find more to rant about. He didn't actually know that much about Dolores Umbridge, though he was genuinely offended at the thought of her standing in his classroom. But the abuse of a Ministry official seemed to be perking up Sirius's spirits. "Do you want to know something?"

Sirius nodded, urging him on.

"I hate the idea of that woman in my classroom more that I hate the idea of Death Eater in there last year. At least Barty Crouch knew what he was talking about!"

Sirius laughed. "True."

"Ginny said he was pretty patient with Neville, too." He stopped. Of course, Barty Crouch had been in the group that had tortured Neville's parents. He decided not to bring that up. "What does this Umbridge know? Nothing."

"Damn right. Do you want the rest of Harry's letter?"

"Yes. Right."

"She's nearly as nice as your mum," he read again. "I just like that part. Anyway, he goes on. I'm writing because that thing that I wrote to you about last summer happened again last night when I was doing a detention with Umbridge. We're all missing our biggest friend, we hope he'll be back soon. Please write back quickly, Best, Harry."

"Last summer... did he mean the letter about the scar?"

"Yes. It's the only one I got. I was actually surprised he didn't write to you about it. You're the Dark Arts specialist."

"You're his guardian," Remus said quickly, willing himself not to say, So was I--Sirius was Harry's guardian, and it was right and proper that Harry should have written to him. Remus was just a teacher. It was better that Harry had switched his affections so quickly. "So he's saying that it's bothering him again?"

"That would be my take." Sirius grinned. "Did a pretty good job disguising it, didn't he?"

"Excellent. He's a natural." He sat down in the desk chair. "I think we should tell him--well, you should tell him--not to worry so about it. With Voldemort back from the dead, it's going to happen a lot. I don't want Harry to spend the year panicking."

"Good point."

"Is the last bit about Hagrid, do you think?"

"Definitely. But they shouldn't draw attention by asking questions. I haven't heard anything. Have you?"

"Not for weeks."

"I'll check on that while you're howling at the moon tomorrow. It'll give me something to do." He gave Remus a vaguely reproachful look.

"I'm sorry," Remus said. "It is going to take all day to get things ready. We'll figure out how to code a letter back to Harry on Monday. Or we could talk about it at the meeting tonight..."

"Oh," Sirius said, producing another piece of parchment that he'd been sitting on. "Cancelled. None of the Hogwarts staff can make it and no one else has anything to say."

Remus found himself slightly disappointed, but he said nothing. Sirius's contemptuous treatment of the letter was enough to tell him it was a sore spot. "Well, then," he said, "we'll work on a letter to Harry between us on Monday."

"I thought I'd just talk to him in the Gryffindor fire. I did that last year, and--"

"Are you mad? With a Ministry official working there?"

"There's no way to answer this in code, Remus. It won't take long, and I'll make sure he's alone in the room--"

"Sirius, that's an insane idea. I know you're bored, but--Oh, damn. Another owl."

The owl, which had apparently been shoved through the floo network, flew up from the kitchen stairs. It fluttered officiously over to Remus and dropped a piece of parchment on the floor in front of him.

Remus picked it up. It was hastily scrawled with an official Auror's seal. Not Dora's handwriting, but Kingsley's. He opened it.

Remus, it read. Called in for an extra shift, can't very well explain that I have to guard the Department of Mysteries. Tonks already on duty. Molly has done three nights and must sleep. Arthur has a meeting in the morning. Dung claims 'business meeting.' No Hogwarts staff at liberty. Guard needed. Reply immediately.

"I'll go," Sirius offered when he read it aloud.

Remus shook his head and didn't bother to answer, puzzling over Kingsley's carelessness in sending such a note. "No. My excuse is thin if they catch me, but at least I'm not wanted for anything."

"What excuse could you possibly have?"

"Tomorrow's a full moon. I could say I accidentally came a day early for my 'voluntary' testing and got a bit turned around in the dark. It's no weaker than Molly's, but hard to disprove. They'd know I was up to something, but wouldn't be able to pin anything on me."

"What about Bill Weasley?"

"His shift is tomorrow night."

"Right."

"I'm sorry."

Sirius shook his head and waved a hand listlessly. "I am, too. I just haven't talked to anyone from the Order all weekend. Go on. I'll just play cards with Kreacher. Or have a good row with Mum."

"Or you could just mope in the dark and throw dead rats to Buckbeak."

"That idea has its charms as well." He grinned. "I'm fine. Go ahead. Sit at the Ministry and wait for nothing to happen."

Remus sighed. Sirius's grin did nothing to cut the bitterness in his voice. He would be alone in the house again.

Monday.

Remus would get Dora and Kingsley over, and Dung. An Order meeting about anything that any of them could think of. And, if was even remotely possible, Andromeda and Ted.

But the weekend was impossible. He shouldn't have gone to the Garveys, but it was too late to change that now.

"Look, I'm going to have to go now, and I'll have to go straight to the shack in the morning. I'll be back after work on Monday."

"Right."

"Don't do anything mad, all right?"

"Me?"

"No Gryffindor fireplace."

Sirius looked at him blankly, then stood up with some dignity. "I know Dumbledore told you to move in here to look after me--don't bother denying it. But you're not my guardian. Don't forget that." He turned and disappeared up the stairs.

Remus thought he should follow, but in the end, he had to leave.

There were coordinates scribbled at the bottom of Kingsley's note, and Remus Apparated to them as soon as he got clear of the protection spells on the house. He found himself in a small hut in a forest, sitting beside a blazing fireplace. Kingsley Shacklebolt was sitting at a wooden table, the hood of his robes up over his bald head. He tilted his head when he heard the pop of Remus's Apparition.

"I was wondering if you were planning to reply," he said. "You could have sent the owl back through the floo; I have the path secured."

Remus shook his head. "That Charm isn't all that secure, you know. And if anyone had found that note..."

Kingsley laughed richly. "Did you show it to Sirius, by any chance?"

"No. I told him what it said..."

More laughter.

"What?"

"I'm an Auror. Once a month, we have to be on the lookout for werewolves."

"I'm aware of that," Remus said, not entirely sure where Kingsley was going with this.

"There are Charms for identification."

"Yes..."

"I just reversed one. Anyone not a werewolf who saw that letter would have seen a copy of our expense report at Ollivander's. Two years out of date, at that."

"Well, there are some werewolves who aren't necessarily sympathetic to the Order."

"And how many of them are likely to be working for the Ministry, and having access to an owl pushed through a secure area of the floo system?"

Remus saw his point. "Well," he said, "I'm glad my lycanthropy is convenient for you."

"My philosophy is to use all available resources. I could charm one that only a metamorphmagus could read as well. In fact, I have. It was Tonks's idea in the first place." He pulled a bundle out from under the chair. "Here's the Invisibility Cloak. I'll get you into the Ministry."

Remus took the Cloak. "All right." He glanced out the window; there was still time for a short request. "I don't suppose Dora could find herself off duty Monday evening?"

"She might."

"And I don't suppose you could be the one keeping an eye on Andromeda and Ted at that time?"

Kingsley's eyes narrowed. "Watching her walk right out the door and over to Grimmauld Place, I assume?"

"That's the idea."

"Love to, mate, but I'm not the problem." Kingsley checked his watch, and apparently decided he could spare a moment. "Dumbledore is at Hogwarts. Under Dolores Umbridge's eye, in case you haven't heard."

"I've heard."

"Right. So how do you propose that he tell her where Sirius is?"

"Fidelius."

"Fidelius," Kingsley agreed. "It's the best hope we have, but it's damned inconvenient when it comes to bringing in new people."

"He could write to her."

"And risk interception?"

"I could go up to Hogwarts and get the note along with something else."

"Yes, I'm certain Umbridge wouldn't find that at all suspicious." He shook his head. "Why not just put a lead on him and walk him over to their place?"

"Lucius Malfoy saw him on the platform with Harry."

Kingsley swore under his breath. "That'll identify exactly which black dog he is. And you can be sure Lucius has shared that information with his wife by now, and that Pettigrew has confirmed the story. He can't go near Andromeda's home. They'll know him immediately."

"Ted thinks it's important for Sirius to see other people."

Kingsley was quiet for a long time, then sighed. "I think the world of Ted and Andromeda, Remus. You know that. But when they had a child, every interest they had in the world outside of their family disappeared. They're worried about Sirius, and I understand that. But Sirius Black's state of mind isn't--and can't become--our major concern. We have a war to fight."

"It doesn't have to be our major concern, but some concern wouldn't be out of place."

"I know. I'll... I'll see if there's anything I can do. I may have more freedom to go to Hogwarts than you do, though I can't imagine it not being suspicious. But no promises."

It was the best Remus was going to get, and he didn't push for more. He and Kingsley flooed into the Ministry of Magic--Kingsley barking short-tempered directions about making arrangements for his biannual registration--and finally found a place where Remus could drift off toward the Department of Mysteries without being noticed. Remus pulled the Invisibility Cloak on as soon as he reached the portrait-less hall that led to the Department, and stood in the corner until he was certain no Unspeakables were inside, working late.

Somewhere above him, he could feel the fattening moon, nearly full now. By late afternoon tomorrow, the full moon would be a ghost in the sky. Already, he could feel himself tensing against the change.

Close to midnight, he thought he heard something moving, but no matter how hard he looked--even with his eyesight sharpening as the last hours drew on--he couldn't see anything. He listened for the scrabble of rodent's claws, but it didn't come.

By the time the sun rose, he was almost dizzy from lack of sleep. He stumbled back to Auror's headquarters.

Dora stood up in her cube when she saw him peel off the Invisibility Cloak. She didn't look nearly as sleepy as he did, despite having been on duty all night as well. "I've got your Potion," she said. "You need to sleep."

"I need to Apparate up to the moors. The walls of the shed need to be expanded into the ground and Charmed..."

"I'll do it. You need to sleep."

"You've been up as long as I have."

She swung a mirror around from behind her desk. "Remus, look at yourself."

He did. His eyes were sunken and bloodshot, and the damned wrinkles--which had started to mark his face before he'd left Hogwarts--were deep crevasses.

"It's just getting close," he said, dismissing her. "I shouldn't fight it after all these years--"

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "I'll take care of Charming the shed. You go into it and sleep until at least noon."

"You shouldn't be around me this close, Dora."

"I didn't give you a choice in the matter," she said, and led the way to the Apparition coordinates in the lobby. No one was here this early on a Sunday morning.

"I wish you wouldn't," he said weakly.

"We don't get all of our wishes," she said, and Apparated.

I shouldn't have told her where it was, he thought.

Too late now.

He Apparated after her.

"Go on in," she said, her voice seeming to echo as his nervous system screamed for sleep. "I'll leave it open for the morning. I have to come back at noon with your last Potion anyway."

"I should learn to brew it."

"Old Snape says you 'don't have the skill for it.'" She shrugged. "Then again, he says that about everyone. I could try to teach you." She smiled self-consciously, an unusual look for her. "That'd be a switch, me teaching you."

Sleep was descending on him so quickly that it seemed to be buzzing in his ears, but he smiled at her. "I'd be more than happy to learn from you, Dora."

"We'll see," she said. "I'll have to know if you really are rubbish at Potions, though--it's a bit fussy, and it could hurt you if it's wrong. Now, go in and sleep, Remus. I mean it. I'll take care of everything."

He slipped around her and into the shadows. "You need to get some sleep as well," he said again.

She shrugged. "After lunch, Mum will make sure I sleep. I promise. She never lets me get away with this."

"I shouldn't, either."

"You're not my Mum."

"Nor are you mine."

She bit her lip and started Engorging the boards at the bottom of the shack, swelling them into the soft earth for several feet. Remus stretched out on the dirt floor, feeling the magic as it worked its way through the root systems, seeming to charge the very ground. He had always participated in this part of the Charming. It was interesting to feel it from the outside, to...

"Remus?"

He opened his eyes. He'd half-drifted off. The charms didn't seem to be growing in the Earth anymore. "What?"

"I'm going to go now. I'll be back at noon." She knelt down beside him and handed him a blanket that she'd apparently Conjured. "I'm sorry," she said. "I can't seem to help bossing you."

He smiled, still half-asleep, and took her hand and squeezed it. "It's all right, Dora. Sometimes, it's nice to be fussed over." On an impulse, he kissed her fingertips, then let go of her hand and started to drift off again. The last thing he saw before slipping under completely was a confused frown on her rapidly blurring face.

I shouldn't have done that, he thought vaguely, then lost the train of all of his thoughts.

It seemed only a few seconds later when she woke him again, but the sun coming through the shack's windows had changed. He sat up groggily. "Noon?" he asked.

She nodded. She was standing across the room, a steaming goblet of Wolfsbane Potion in her hands. She held it out.

He got to his feet and took it from her. "I'm sorry about... I don't know what on Earth made me do that."

"'S all right," she said. "You just surprised me. Is it because we're... so close? To the moon, I mean?"

"Perhaps," Remus said, in as final a tone as he could muster, not wanting to discuss this particular aspect of lycanthropy with Dora. Or with anyone else.

He did tend to become more physically affectionate near the moon, but he knew better than to indulge the impulse. He'd learned everything he needed to know about biological urges before the age of seven, thanks to the Wolf, though he hadn't understood consciously what he was feeling until his father had explained it to him when he was ten and finally confided that not everything the Wolf wanted seemed to be prey... at least not the sort of prey that Remus understood. It had been a horrendously embarrassing realization then, and it wasn't especially better now. He'd spent his adolescence having terrifying dreams of which he was ashamed not because he'd seen half the pretty girls at Hogwarts naked in them, but because--more often than not--somewhere near the... climax... of the dream, he would look up at an open window, and there would be a sudden full moon, and he would awaken drenched in a cold sweat, certain that the transformation was raging through him, and he would rip the girl (who was of course not really with him) to pieces and not be able to stop himself as he looked out from inside the Wolf's eyes, horrified and sickened. He hadn't been able to look Lily Evans in the eye for weeks after the first one, in which she had figured rather prominently. He kept wanting to apologize to her, but it would have been a bit awkward to explain what he was apologizing for.

After some time, he'd simply accepted the nightmares as part of his life, but they had never completely left him. He knew rationally that it was nothing but anxiety on his part, but neither the fear nor the shame about it ever seemed to go away. He knew what the affectionate behavior was about. The Wolf had scented a different sort of prey.

And he would not allow it. Not even in the privacy of an afternoon's fevered dreams. Not Dora, who had always loved and trusted him, for some mad reason of her own.

"You should go," he said. "Your parents are expecting you."

She nodded and started to leave, but stopped at the door. "Remus, we're all right," she said. "You surprised me, and that was all."

"It won't happen again."

"It didn't bother me."

"It bothers me."

"All right." She took a deep breath, then smiled as brightly as ever and blew him a kiss, as she so often did. He made himself catch it, as he always did. Just like nothing strange had happened. She squeezed her face and turned her hair a lurid pink, then tipped him a wave. "I'll see you on the other side," she said, and closed the door behind her.

He drank the Potion at a gulp and set the goblet on the low bench that was the shack's only furnishing, then cleared the hidden skylight to make sure he would have a decent view of the moon. It was meant to be a clear night, for which he was grateful. The delayed transformations of cloudy nights were always more painful, the Wolf forcing itself more violently through its barriers.

As the sun poured down throughout the afternoon, making the shack pleasant and peaceful, he read a book of pastoral poetry and calmed himself as much as he was able. When the light was gone, he removed his robes, folded them neatly under the bench, and hoped he wouldn't decide to shred them in the night.

Then he sat still beneath the skylight, his head turned up at a sharp angle, waiting.

The moon rose.