InsaneJournal

Fic: Upon Waking , Part 2
Title: Upon Waking
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Remus/Sirius/Harry; Remus/Sirius; implied Snape/Draco
Kink(s): Threesome; Rimming

Length: ~20,000 words
Summary: A story about the blurring of uncrossable lines, told between tea and rain and the still moments after full moons.

Notes: This is obviously AU; it takes place a few years after Voldemort's defeat. Many thanks to my wonderful betas Rurounihime and Lusiology.

Read Part 1 here.


Casting flying charms was a lost cause today, Harry quickly realised after he'd nearly rendered a broom unusable. His mind was wandering too much to weave the complicated spells necessary to set a racing broom apart from ordinary brooms. Perhaps this was a good day to catch up on neglected paperwork.

Harry had finished sorting invoices, receipts, and other owl post into three piles when the door handle of the shed creaked.

Sirius' head appeared around the barely opened door. "Can I come in?"

"'Course, yeah," Harry mumbled.

If Sirius, who usually seemed to lack any sense of decorum, was that cautious about approaching Harry, he had to be rather worried about the reception he might get. Harry couldn't blame him. After all, he'd skipped out on breakfast and now it was nearly lunch time. He'd considered going back to the house a few times, but something held him back.

Harry shuffled his papers. It took Sirius rather a long time to step inside, let the tray floating behind him in through the door, subsequently close said door, and levitate the tray over to where Harry was sitting. Tea and toast with jam; nothing fancy, but Harry's mouth was watering nevertheless. He reached for the nearest slice, appreciating that it was still warm.

"Thanks," he said while chewing.

Sirius relaxed minutely. "Thought you might be hungry." He bounced on the balls of his feet. "Well. I suppose I'll just get back to..." He gestured towards the house.

This was exactly what Harry had wanted to avoid. This kind of awkwardness. It was uncomfortable and wrong and Harry wouldn't tolerate it. Not between him and Sirius.

"You don't have to leave."

Sirius still seemed to hover between staying and leaving.

"C'mon, sit down."

Sirius slid onto the unoccupied stool. He remained silent while Harry ate another piece of toast and sipped some tea. "I hear Hermione does a good Obliviate if you feel in need of it," Sirius finally said.

Harry's lips quirked with a not-quite-there laugh. "I don't."

Sirius squirmed on his seat. "Is this about coming between me and Moony again? Because no offense, Harry, but if Azkaban didn't manage that, I don't think you will."

Harry looked up from pushing crumbs around on his plate. They didn't talk about Azkaban, ever. Of course Harry knew it was part of Sirius' past, but he'd never fully considered the impact it must have had on his relationship with Remus. They'd been together at school, and maybe they'd hoped for a life with each other, just like his parents had. And then everything had been taken away in a single moment—

Harry pressed his lips together.

"Hadn't thought about that, had you?" Sirius asked softly.

"No." But there was something he'd always been curious about. "Did Remus—did he see other people while you were—were away?" Harry held his breath, hoping he hadn't gone too far by asking that.

"He did," Sirius replied a little too evenly.

Harry nodded. He hadn't expected a different answer, considering the circumstances of Sirius' arrest.

"But all that's in the past."

"Right, yeah." Harry's head was swimming with too many thoughts that pulled him this way and that. He looked down at his hands, clasped in his lap. He couldn't stop his thumb from running over the back of his hand. Back and forth, back and forth.

"I don't want things to change between us," Harry blurted out, not quite aware how the words had been building inside him until they had been spoken.

"Things are already changing."

He'd known that, hadn't he? It wasn't the changes he was feared, but rather what followed. "I can't lose you," Harry whispered.

Warm hands curled into the space behind Harry's knees, pulling him forward until his thighs were framing Sirius'. The hands wandered further up to this waist and linked behind his back.

"You won't. We're not going to allow it."

The fierce determination in Sirius' voice cut through the anxiety that had been knotting in Harry's stomach. He pulled his glasses off with a shaky hand, then flung his arms around Sirius' shoulder and burrowed as close to him as he could. He needn't have worried so much. They were okay. Everything was okay, and he'd—they'd figure out how to go from here.

Sirius' hand ran up and down Harry's back, and his breath tickled against his ear when he spoke. "Remus is going to have my hide when he finds out that I talked to you. He gave me strict orders not to before he left for tutoring. You know how he gets, all stern and serious, about how we need to let you come to us and so on."

Harry tightened his hold on Sirius. "He doesn't need to know. It can be our secret."

Sirius loosened the embrace, but didn't completely let go of Harry. "Nah, he'd find out sooner or later. And I like when Remus gets aggressive."

In the past, Harry might have teased Sirius for making lewd remarks like that, but now he felt arousal spike through him. "I can imagine."

Sirius' eyebrows rose and fell, followed by a broad grin. "After this morning, I'm sure you can."

~*~*~

Harry was washing the plate and cup Sirius had brought to him when Remus came home from tutoring. He smiled at Harry and hung up his cloak. It was odd seeing him in robes; they all wore Muggle clothes around the house.

"How did it go today?" Harry asked, rinsing the cup with cold water.

"As it always does. Some are eager and want to learn, others not so much." Remus walked over to stand next to Harry. "Do you have a moment?"

Harry turned off the water and rested his hands on the edge of the sink. Drops ran down his fingertips and splashed on the dull metal.

Remus' hand sought Harry's waist. "Everything all right?"

That hand exerted gentle pressure and Harry followed it, leaning against Remus. "Yeah."

"Good." Lips brushed against the side of Harry's neck. "You know I love you, don't you?"

Harry shivered. His balance shaky for a moment, he grasped the edge of the sink. The hand on his side immediately tightened its hold, steadying him.

"I do," Harry managed hoarsely.

It's not as if he hadn't known—of course he knew—but to hear it spoken aloud like that was different. The modulation in Remus' voice, the way he was holding him, that soft press of lips all lent a depth to those words that Harry hadn't fully expected there.

"And Sirius does, too. He was half out of his mind this morning, worried he'd ruined his entire relationship with you because of what he did."

Harry nodded. He could very well imagine Sirius pacing the length of the house, muttering to himself. No wonder he'd ignored Remus' plea. For a moment, Harry considered telling Remus about the conversation he'd had with Sirius, but then decided that was something they had to figure out between themselves. He wanted to respond to what Remus had just told him, though. Was he supposed to say those words back to him? Harry had said them before, to Ron and Hermione, and it had been easy then, but this was different, with too much hanging in the balance.

Remus' hand fell away, perhaps because he felt their conversation was over. Harry grasped his arm. "Remus—" He swallowed, the words lodged in his throat, unmoving.

Remus looked at Harry attentively, waiting without an air of expectation. Harry knew he could walk away now and it would be fine, that Remus wouldn't find it strange that Harry hadn't said anything. It was that certainty that made Harry tug on Remus' arm, pulling him closer.

He found Remus' mouth opening easily under his lips. Whatever Harry gave was returned with equal force, but Remus never tried to take charge of the kiss, following Harry's lead and clearly enjoying the lazy, slow twining of their tongues. As he wrapped his arms around Remus, Harry thought he could kiss like this forever. He smiled when a pair of arms came around him a moment later. When Harry's legs had almost turned into jelly, Remus pulled away.

"This can go many ways now," he whispered, his lips finding their way back to Harry's neck. "It's up to you what we do."

Harry tilted his head, exposing more skin to Remus. "What?" His thoughts were sluggish and couldn't quite decipher what his ears had just picked up.

"What do you want?"

Remus pressed closer to Harry. Even through layers of robes and his befuddled state of mind, it was quite clear that Remus was hard. Harry pushed back, and there was friction, and oh—

Hands stilled Harry's hips. "Tell me what you want."

Remus' voice had an edge to it that shook Harry out of his daze. "What—what about Sirius?"

Making sure Harry could see his face, Remus replied, "It's fine. We've talked about this."

"This?"

"Being with you when we're not all together," Remus explained patiently.

"You already talked about that?"

"Yes. It seemed likely that it would happen sooner or later." Remus moved away, letting go of Harry completely. "Maybe we should leave things as they are for now."

Frustration burned through Harry at the thought of being left alone once more when he was this aroused and certain that Remus would seek out Sirius to shag him against the nearest available surface.

"No," he said, determined.

A glint appeared in Remus' eyes. "No? What do you want then?"

"I want—" Harry swallowed. He would get these words out. "I want you to make me come."

Remus was on him again in an instant. "That can be arranged."

They kissed again, but this time Remus didn't hold himself back. Harry groaned, his hips moving restlessly. When fingers roughly undid the button and zipper of his jeans, his whole body jerked.

Remus shoved Harry's jeans and boxers to his ankles. "Up," he ordered, one hand patting the work surface.

Harry scrambled to comply, hastily kicking off his trainers and clothes. As soon as he was seated, Remus' arms curled under his thighs and maneuvered Harry's legs over his shoulders. A quick pull on Harry's hips and his center of gravity shifted backwards, a perilous balance until Harry braced his hands on the worktop and leaned his head against the cabinet.

Remus looked up at him briefly before bending down, his tongue tracing along the line from knee to hip. Harry watched its progress, trembling over the sensation and over being so exposed, half-naked in the kitchen, effectively trapped between the cabinets and Remus' body. Even if the chances were slight that anyone other than Sirius could walk into the kitchen, it seemed to Harry as if all the world might accidentally stumble upon him and Remus. His eyes flitted to the Floo, which they only shut down at night. Anyone could call—Hermione, or Ron, or, god forbid, Molly.

Too late, Harry thought. Remus had reached the crease between hip and thigh and was licking steadily there. This was all Harry wanted to care about for now. His eyes closed and the world shrank, all sensations sharper now, ten fingertips pressing against his skin, two hands that held him securely, and one tongue that relentlessly traced over some of the most sensitive spots on Harry's body. Short, precise licks across his balls had him keening; his back arched when a long swipe traced along his cock; and when Remus' lips finally closed around the head, Harry moaned without restraint.

There was no way he was going to last long. He was already hovering on that precarious edge, and Remus was doing his best to push him over. Every time his mouth moved down, Harry felt himself slide deeper into it, fraction after fraction of skin surrounded by pressure and warmth. And then one hand around his thigh let go, immediately replaced by Harry's own, without as much of a thought. One finger—Remus' thumb, Harry mused—traced along between the cheeks of his arse, one long, hard swipe—

Every muscle in Harry's legs contracted painfully, his toes curling, then flexing, until the tension had swept out of his body and he slumped back against the cabinet and the hand that had suddenly appeared against his lower back.

Remus was planting kisses along his thigh in a near-frantic rhythm that broke into a shuddering breath and strangled sound that must have emerged from the depth of his throat. He straightened after that, easing both of Harry's legs down, and held Harry close.

Harry's eyes opened, blinking against the bright afternoon sunlight. He gasped when he saw Sirius standing in the doorway, trousers undone and one hand down his pants.

"What is it?" Remus asked, then followed Harry's line of sight.

"Bloody hell, you two," Sirius muttered, crossing the room. He glanced at Harry, then turned to Remus, whispering into his ear.

The words caused Remus' cheeks to flush, and he squirmed when Sirius' hand wound under his robes. With a kiss to his neck, Sirius let go of him, attention now on Harry. "And you..." Sirius shook his head.

Harry waited expectantly for Sirius to continue, but all he received was an insistent gaze and a hand that once again curled into space behind his knees, steadfastly holding him in place on while Sirius leaned forward and kissed him.

~*~*~

Later that evening, Harry sent an owl to Draco.

Draco,

I'm about to send off those Chaser brooms I told you about, but would like to put them through their paces one more time. If you have some time next Saturday, I'd like you to join me. Have you ever played Seeker games near a cliff? There's nothing better than suddenly seeing the earth drop out from under you.

Let me know.

Harry

It seemed casual enough, not giving away the desperate need Harry felt to have someone else pick this increasingly complicated whatever-it-was with Remus and Sirius apart and tell him that he wasn't about to make one of the biggest mistakes of his life.

Draco's reply was prompt, arriving only an hour later.

See you Saturday at 3 o'clock. Be prepared to be soundly beaten.

-DM

~*~*~

Saturday arrived with a chill in the air that gradually gave way to a sun-soaked autumn day. Draco tumbled out of the Floo at precisely three o'clock, a challenging smirk on his face that only widened as they gathered the brooms and Apparated to the coast.

Harry hadn't flown with someone this good in a long while, and he wondered if Draco wasn't secretly playing in some sort of amateur Quidditch league. After a few initial tests regarding the speed and ease of maneuvering on the new brooms, the results of which Harry would later use to tweak them, Draco released the Snitch he'd brought. They dived and looped around the cliffs until they were equally exhilarated and exhausted (and Draco had made good on his promise, beating Harry three out of four games).

They landed on a grassy patch near the edge of a gently sloping cliff, dropped the brooms and nearly stumbled to the ground. Harry still felt the world spinning around him even though he lay flat on his back, and it took a while for earth and sky to right themselves.

"Out with it, Potter. I know something's bothering you."

Harry drew in a breath of protest, realised the futility of denial, and let the air whoosh out of his mouth. "That obvious, am I?"

"No. But I live with Severus, remember."

That would probably turn anyone into an expert on suppressed or withheld emotions, Harry thought. He sat up; this wasn't a conversation he could have lying down. "Well, the thing is that—" He paused, trying to think of a way to bring all the events of the past month and the accompanying confusion into a coherent summary. "I told you that Remus, Sirius, and I often share bed. Because of my insomnia."

"Yes."

"There's more to it now."

"More?" Draco echoed.

"Um, yeah. Like, kissing, and touching, and...things of that sort."

"I can't say I'm surprised." Draco sounded smug and Harry wanted to smack him for it. Folding his hands behind his head, Draco continued, "I gather that this isn't purely happy news?"

Harry plucked a few blades of grass out of the soil. How to answer that, when there were moments when he felt so cherished, when sometimes a brief touch was enough to nearly undo him?

"It's complicated," he finally said.

"Every relationship is complicated," Draco retorted.

"I know. But there's so much at stake. What if this isn't going to work out? I can't lose them, Draco. I can't. They're—" Harry hesitated, trying to find the right words. "They're my family, and I don't want to risk that."

Draco sat up as well. "Have they given you any indication that they have doubts about this new arrangement? Or are they pushing you into something you don't want?"

Harry shook his head. "No. They are...they're doing everything to show me that they're certain about this, about me. Makes me feel stupid sometimes for having so many doubts."

"It's not stupid," Draco replied quietly. "Tell me why you want to be with them."

Harry hadn't expected that question. He yanked at a few more handfuls of grass, at a loss for how to put what he felt into words.

"If you can't, tell me the first thing that comes to mind when you think about them."

"Safe. Alive. Remus makes me feel safe, and Sirius makes me feel alive."

Draco smiled. "You're such a sap."

Harry swatted his arm. "Am not. You asked, remember?"

"Fine, fine." Draco laughed, but sobered quickly. "Look, it's obvious that there's a lot that ties the three of you together, so maybe you should give into that Gryffindor instinct of yours and go for it."

Harry sighed and mumbled. "'m already going for it."

"Excuse me, what was that?"

"I said—what I meant is that we may have already gone for it. Sort of." Harry's cheeks flushed.

"Sort of?"

"Well, Remus very nearly shagged me in the kitchen yesterday."

Draco grinned. "And why only 'very nearly'?"

"Because he gave me the best blowjob of my life instead." Harry's heart was beating rather fiercely.

"I see."

Harry looked out over the edge of the cliff, down where the waves broke against protruding rocks. "Remus said he loves me." When Draco didn't respond, Harry went on. "When he said it—he said it in the same way he'd say it to Sirius. It was—god." He shivered again, just like he had the day before when Remus had whispered in his ear. "Is that even possible? To love two people at the same time? Equally?"

Draco frowned. "I do think it's possible, yes. I'm not sure if I—" He halted. "I seem to be rather single-minded when it comes to attaching myself to another person."

Harry was uncertain about having understood everything Draco had said. "So...you love Severus? You're in love with him, aren't you?"

"You know that my relationship with Severus has some rather...unique qualities to it. I love him, yes. But being in love? That's—that's perhaps not how I'd characterise our relationship."

Harry glanced at Draco. "As long as you're happy." It was almost a question.

Draco gave him a jerked nod in response.

"Are you?" Harry asked quietly.

Draco glanced down. "It's been a while since I've been truly happy, but that doesn't have anything to do with Severus. Rather the opposite. He's the reason why I'm as content as I am. There are things he helps me with...helps me through."

Harry wanted to press Draco on that point because the possibility that his friend wasn't happy didn't sit well with him. But obviously the relationship with Severus offered something important to Draco, something he might not find with someone else. "That's—that's good."

"Yeah."

Harry leaned back on his hands, face turned towards the sun. Eyes closed, he enjoyed the warmth that prickled pleasantly against his skin.

"Have you thought about setting up a few basic rules for the relationship the three of you are going to have?" Draco asked evenly.

"What do you mean, rules?"

"I mean some guidelines you all agree to. For example, are Lupin and Black going to carry on as before, or not?"

Harry squinted at him. "You mean whether or not they'll still sleep with each other when I'm not there?"

Draco nodded.

The answer seemed so obvious to Harry. "Why wouldn't they? They've been together for ages, of course they'd still want to just be with each other. I'd never ask them to stop."

"You wouldn't? I would."

"Really?"

"It would probably be the first rule I'd insist on. No sex unless all three of us are in the same room." Draco sounded rather adamant about that.

"But they—Draco, they've been together since school. There are things they share that I have no part in."

Draco gazed at him curiously. "So it doesn't bother you?"

"It's got nothing to do with me."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Because it—I don't really see how that's part of what I have with them. It's as if I'd suddenly expect them to understand everything I've shared with Ron and Hermione. It doesn't make sense."

Draco cocked his head. "Are there things about you, Weasley, and Granger that I should know about?"

Harry laughed. "God, no. You have such a one-track mind."

"I am rather relieved that nothing of that sort ever went on. The thought is simply too disturbing."

"I'm glad I could clear that up for you." Harry closed his eyes again, soaking up more of the late afternoon sun. "So, do you and Severus have any basic rules?"

A rustle of clothes conveyed Draco's hesitation, maybe even discomfort, and Harry was about to retract the question when a quiet intake of breath indicated Draco was going to answer after all.

"We do. There is a book on our night stand that contains all the rules we've made so far."

Harry pictured their bedroom—not that he'd ever been inside of it, but he was sure that it was very simple, nothing like the clutter and mismatched furniture that characterised the room he shared with Remus and Sirius—and saw a leather-bound book on a sturdy table, maybe a quill beside it. "How many rules are there?"

"Seventy-four."

"And you remember all of them?" Harry kept his eyes closed. Maybe it would be easier for Draco to talk about this if he didn't feel like Harry was looking at him.

"Not all of them are in effect every day," Draco explained quietly. "Some I know by heart. 'I will never force myself upon you.'" Reverence wove between the words. "'I will always respect you.'"

"I'd think that those go without saying," Harry observed.

"That's why they are the first two in the book. There are others that are more...mundane. Number eleven might interest you."

"Oh?"

"Yes. It's 'I will always bring the Wolfsbane potion to Lupin on the day before the full moon.' That rule's only for me, obviously."

"So you have different rules for each of you?" That sounded rather complicated.

"Yes."

"Hmm."

"You find all this very strange, I bet." Draco's words held a defensive edge.

Harry finally opened his eyes again, bright spots dancing in his field of vision. "Well...maybe a little. But that's only because it wouldn't work for me. Doesn't mean it isn't a good solution for you and Severus."

He sincerely hoped Draco understood that he wasn't judging the relationship he had with Snape. Draco had every right to choose to organise his love life in such a way, even if Harry didn't understand why he'd want to.

"And the chaos that is sure to erupt in your household would certainly not work for me," Draco declared, more teasing than serious.

Harry was relieved. "Oh, there'll be a row at some point, sure. But it'll pass."

"And then you'll shag each other silly afterwards?"

With a grin, Harry replied, "I'd hope so."

"Seems like you're willing to give this a try, then."

Harry gazed back at Draco, letting that thought sink in. "Yeah. I think I am."

~*~*~

Harry jerked out of uneasy sleep. There were noises in the hall: shuffling feet, Sirius talking in quick, insistent words--almost there, Moony, almost, just a bit further--and loud whimpers that had to come from Remus but were so unlike any sounds Harry had ever heard from him.

Earlier Harry had watched them run off from the window, like every full moon, and it wasn't too unusual for him to wake up when they returned. Previously, he'd been keenly aware of those hours immediately following the transformation as their time, private and tucked away from the space they shared between the three of them. Now, there was an insistent tugging in his chest, urging him to get up and join them because he was needed.

Harry made his way to their room on unsteady legs, confused by the sudden certainty that this was the right thing to do. He peeked around the door frame to see Sirius helping Remus into bed. Both of them were naked, which made sense; why bother with clothes when there were more important things to take care of, such as making sure Remus was comfortable?

"Be right back," Sirius whispered and turned towards the door, stopping short for a second when he saw Harry. "Watch him, will you?"

Harry nodded.

"And take your clothes off," Sirius added as he hurried past.

Harry stepped across the threshold. Remus was barely visible in the shadowed light of early morning, a too small lump of limbs in a nest of tangled sheets and blankets.

Halfway to the bed, Harry hesitated, fingering the hem of his T-shirt, finally tugging it over his head. He still stood with his thumbs tucked into the waistband of his boxers, heart beating wildly, when Sirius returned.

"C'mon," Sirius urged.

Leaving his boxers alone, Harry crawled onto the bed. His fingers grasped a fistful of sheet upon his first good look at Remus. A long cut ran across his back, barely scabbed over. Small gashes littered his shoulders, some of them still open, blood smeared between them across too-pale skin. Remus' eyes were tightly shut, his lips pressed together, trying to hold back the painful whimpers that were audible nonetheless.

Harry's stomach twisted as his mind tried to reconcile this Remus with the Remus who would lie on the sofa on days after the full moon, looking slightly uncomfortable but in good spirits. He tried to catch Sirius' eye, but Sirius was applying a thick salve to Remus' back, mumbling little words of comfort all the while.

Harry finally lay down next to Remus, their foreheads nearly touching. He reached for his side, having made sure there were no wounds there, but a hissed "don't" from Sirius stopped him.

"Skin's still too sensitive," Sirius explained, and Harry withdrew his hand.

He tucked it close to his own chest lest he accidentally cause Remus any more pain. "We're both here," he whispered, "Sirius and me." He didn't know what else he could possibly do.

The corners of Remus' mouth twitched in an attempted smile. "'m glad," he rasped.

Sirius seemed to be finished with the salve because he stretched out on Remus' other side, head propped up on his arm, and his fingers carefully tangling in Remus' hair.

Harry couldn't stop thinking about how this had gone on nearly every single month of Remus' life, and how he'd never fully understood the agony the transformation brought on this man for whom he cared so deeply. He tried to lie still, but couldn't stop fidgeting, finding it impossible to be comfortable when his stomach was still roiling and his chest so tight that every breath hurt.

He finally stumbled out of bed, nearly running to the bathroom. It felt good to close the door behind him, to be away from the darkened room and Remus' pain and Sirius' impossible calm. Harry leaned heavily on the sink, the porcelain cool under his sweaty palms, and tried to force air into his lungs, but it didn't work, every breath becoming more hitched until a sob loosened that knot in his chest. His eyes burnt, and there was another sob, and another until they all blended together and he curled over the sink with his hands pressed against his face, wishing he could stop because it all hurt so very much.

Arms came around him, turning him, and he found himself gathered close to Sirius, who stroked over his hair and down his back, which only made it worse, but Sirius didn't seem to mind.

"I—I—didn't—didn't—know," Harry managed between hiccuped breaths.

"I know," Sirius murmured, "I know."

After what seemed like an impossibly long time, the sobs stopped and Harry felt exhausted, glad to be held because he might not have been able to stand up by himself. He wiped at his eyes and nose, embarrassed by the sniffles he couldn't suppress. Another minute went by before he felt steady enough on his feet to stumble over to the toilet, where he grasped some tissues so he could blow his nose. He sat down on the edge of the bath, toying with the used tissue.

"I'm sorry."

"Why?" Sirius asked.

"For—" bolting, for taking comfort away from someone who needed it more, for being stupid...for so many things he couldn't find the strength to utter out loud. Harry shook his head.

Sirius knelt in front of him, gently taking the tissue from him to throw it into the bin. He folded his hands over Harry's. "There's nothing you have to be sorry for. I've had most of my life to get used to seeing Moony like this, and—" He paused. "It's still bloody difficult, believe me."

Harry nodded. "How d'you do it? Seeing him...like this."

"It's not a choice, is it? He needs me. That's all that matters."

"Right. Yeah." The words weighed heavily on Harry. It became clear to him that being with Remus and Sirius wasn't only a matter of being allowed to share what tied them together, but also to carry parts of the burdens they shouldered. He'd failed in that this time, but he wouldn't again. He sat up straighter. "We should go back."

"You don't have to--"

"I do. I do have to," Harry insisted.

Sirius searched his eyes and gave a terse nod. Pushing himself to his knees, he kissed Harry, who sighed into his mouth. It wasn't a particularly deep kiss, but something eased inside of Harry nevertheless, and he felt more assured about being able to face what lay ahead.

He followed Sirius back to the bedroom and slid under the sheets, settling on Remus' left side while Sirius stayed to the right.

"Thought you'd forgot about me," Remus said into his pillow, which he had bunched under his head.

"Never," Sirius replied. "Feeling better? Let me see your back."

Sirius drew back the sheet, and Harry glanced over Remus' shoulder. The cut looked much better.

"Hate to say it but Malfoy's salve is brilliant." Sirius touched his fingertips to Remus' skin. "All right, Moony?"

Remus made an affirming noise and turned onto his side. Sirius folded himself around him, right arm tightening around his middle. Remus pulled that arm up higher so it crossed his chest and pressed a kiss to Sirius' knuckles. "This is always the best part."

Foregoing words, Sirius mouthed along the juncture of Remus' neck and shoulder. His tongue darted out for a few licks across the skin a little higher up before he lay down with a contented hum.

"Harry," Remus said sleepily.

Harry moved closer until his shins bumped against Remus' legs. "Yeah?"

"Scared you, didn't I?"

Harry didn't know how to respond. He didn't want to lie, but wasn't sure either if it was the best for Remus to hear about the panic that had seized him earlier.

Apparently Remus had drawn his conclusions from Harry's silence because the back of his fingers gently swept across Harry's chest, a small half-circle encompassing as much skin as Remus could reach without lifting his hand off the mattress. "Should've seen Padfoot the first time he spent the moon with me. He had this haunted look about him for days after. Nearly got himself detention for the rest of the month 'cause he wasn't listening during lessons."

"Hey now," Sirius protested.

"'s true and you know it," Remus countered.

"I'm fine," Harry said quietly.

"Good. I like having you here right now."

Harry tucked his head under Remus' chin and laced their fingers together. He fought to stay awake until Remus' breathing had evened out, needing to know he was resting comfortably. The moment he was certain of that, Harry dropped into an exhausted sleep.

~*~*~

As always, Remus spent the next day on the sofa. In the midst of such familiarity, Harry spotted subtle differences. The weariness in Remus' controlled movements, for example, had previously escaped him. He also noticed how Sirius' hands lingered after casual touches, how he'd bend down to whisper things into Remus' ear after coming home from the supermarket instead of bounding off after a brief kiss.

It was less like looking in on and revelling in their closeness, and more like sharing the secret behind it. They'd made it through another transformation together, and life could continue on now. The necessity to affirm that trumped some of Harry's lingering doubts about the path the three of them were on. He found it easier to stretch out on the sofa next to Remus for a before-dinner nap and to kiss Sirius' neck while he was washing the dishes.

~*~*~

Roaming hands gently lifted Harry out of deep sleep. He smiled; he didn't have to open his eyes to know it was Sirius who was touching him. Being able to know this instinctively and effortlessly filled Harry with contentment.

He caught Sirius' hand and pushed it down, past the waistband of his boxers. His mouth opened with a rush of breath when fingers curled around his cock, firm but gentle. Lips touched his forehead, then moved to the small space between his brows, and the side of his nose, a rain of kisses—Remus, who liked these small, fleeting touches. Harry reached blindly, tilted Remus' face so they could kiss properly, his tongue in Remus' mouth the moment their lips met. He drew himself closer by wrapping his arms tightly around Remus' shoulders.

For the next few minutes, Harry drowned in sensations. Arousal tingled through his body in an unfamiliar way. Instead of the short bursts that pushed him towards an inevitable climax, there was a current running through him, weaving between him and Sirius and Remus. He didn't want it to stop, ever, and he wanted to draw the others deeper into it.

Harry reached down between his and Remus' body. A moan flowed into his mouth when his palm pressed against Remus' cock, the thin fabric of his pyjama bottoms a flimsy barrier between skin and skin. Harry rubbed his hand until he could feel wetness spread beneath it, then tugged at the offending cloth.

"Take it off," he whispered against Remus' mouth. Turning towards Sirius, he added, "You too."

All movement stilled for a moment. Sirius asked softly, "Are you sure?"

Harry opened his eyes, his vision fuzzy with sleep and dawn-grey light. "Yes."

Clothes rustled as they were discarded and haphazardly dropped beside the bed. A slight chill settled over Harry momentarily before he felt Remus and Sirius on either side of him again. Remus' face was full of questions that Harry didn't want to hear or answer, so he kissed him once more, but soon turned over to face Sirius, who drew him close, their mouths fitting together with ease.

Harry shivered when Remus pushed the duvet off their bodies. He shivered again, more violently this time, when a questing tongue lapped at the small of his back, moving steadily lower. Harry hiked his leg up around Sirius' hip in the hope that Remus would continue his explorations, which he did so thoroughly that Harry broke away from the kiss he shared with Sirius to burrow into his shoulder. He was nearly shaking now and rather grateful for Sirius' calming hands, one on his nape, the other soothing over his side.

Just before Harry wanted to shout at Remus to stop because he might burst apart otherwise, Remus drew away. He kissed Harry's thigh, his side, and his shoulder blade before nuzzling against his neck.

"All right?" Remus murmured.

"Yeah," Harry replied, voice unsteady. "That was—it was—"

"No one's ever done that to you before?"

"No, not—I mean, yeah, they have, but not—not like this. God." Harry shuddered; he could still feel Remus' tongue in him.

"That's because Moony's got a magic tongue," Sirius said.

"You would know," Remus teased.

"Hmm, yes, I would."

They met over Harry's shoulder in a languid kiss, and Harry felt the current running through him again, deep and strong.

"Do you—" Harry began once Remus and Sirius had pulled apart, his heartbeat quickening at what he was about to ask. "Do you have any lube?"

Sirius looked surprised, and glanced at Remus, who quietly replied, "We do."

Harry swallowed and rolled onto his back. Why was this so difficult to say? To ask for? It wasn't as if he had any doubt left about whether or not he wanted to do this with them. "Will you finish what you started?"

Remus looked at him for several moments, glanced at Sirius, who nodded once and then reached over to the nightstand to retrieve a small jar. Remus took it from him, unscrewed the lid and was about to dip his fingers into it when Harry stopped him.

"Protection?" he asked.

Remus looked confused.

"Protection charms?" Harry clarified. "Or do you not use them?"

Sirius shook his head. "Haven't used one in years. Not since—" He looked at Remus. "Not since we knew there wouldn't be any other people for us. Just Moony and me."

Something settled in Remus' eyes when Sirius said that. It made Harry want to know when Remus and Sirius had made that decision, if it had been something they had talked about or had simply known at some point. He wondered if they'd made promises to one another, formal or informal.

"Harry's right, though," Remus said quietly, pulling all of them back to the here and now. "But I'm afraid my knowledge in that area is a bit rusty."

"I can do it," Harry replied. He stretched out his arm and was pleased when Remus' wand obediently flew into his hand. Whispering incantations under his breath, he drew a circle around the three of them. The familiar prickling settled over his skin, only to disappear when he finished the charm.

"Hmm, they've certainly done work on those. Much more pleasant now," Sirius mused.

Remus nodded as he rubbed his fingers together to spread the contents of the jar over them. Harry's legs fell open, and he squirmed when he saw that Sirius was reaching for the jar as well.

Propped up on one elbow, Remus nipped at Harry's jaw. "Want me to go slow? Been a while, hasn't it?"

Remus' fingers felt around Harry's entrance, pushing against it and slipping inside only to draw back almost instantly, then pushing inside again, deeper this time.

"Yeah. 's good like that, keep—keep going," Harry managed.

Sirius stretched out beside him. He raked his nails across Harry's chest, catching his nipples, which made Harry gasp and jerk, and then further down his body. The back of Sirius' hand skimmed the head of his cock, and it was already too much, especially with Remus' fingers lodged quite deeply in him. Harry pushed Sirius' hand away with an apologetic glance, but Sirius only shook his head in way that said he understood.

"Remus." Harry's voice quivered. "Now."

It took Remus far too long to withdraw his fingers, slick up his cock, and settle between Harry's legs. Even then he halted, trailing his palm up and down the inside of Harry's thighs. Remus was clearly intent on driving Harry mad, but he wouldn't get that satisfaction, even if Harry was ready to jump out of his skin. He tried to lie still, but his hips moved of their own volition: a sharp twist brought him right up against Remus, but not close enough. Scrabbling to sit up—up into Remus' lap, Harry thought, then press down—he reached for Remus' arm, but never finished the movement. With a strong but still careful grasp, Remus curled his fingers around Harry's wrists and held them down for a moment, mouthing no.

Harry's impatient whine turned into a stuttered gasp when Remus pushed into him with one long, fluid movement. Harry felt for Sirius' hand and held it tightly, desperate to share this feeling of finally, finally, but knew of no other way to do so. Sirius squeezed back.

With a roll of hips, Remus leaned down and whispered love you into Harry's ear before kissing him sloppily. Harry moaned when Remus began to move, the slow measured strokes unexpectedly intense. One hand snuck between Harry and the mattress, Remus' palm hot against already heated skin. The pressure against his lower back made Harry arch, and he drew his legs even higher around Remus' waist. Their kiss disintegrated into a brushing of lips. All the while Harry kept hold of Sirius' hand, needing the contact with him.

Muscles trembled under Harry's touch when he ran his hand down Remus' back. "Let go," he said softly.

The tension Harry felt in Remus only increased.

"Let go," he repeated, then more insistently, almost like a chant, "Let go, let go, let go," until Remus' hips snapped forward and his head dropped to Harry's shoulder.

Disentangling his fingers from Sirius', Harry wrapped both his arms around Remus, needing him as close as possible. He turned his head towards Remus, cheek against matted hair. Both of them were so close now. The current that had flown so steadily before now sparked and spiked. A hand wound between their bodies—Sirius' hand—to close around Harry's cock. Rough strokes had Harry keening within moments, and he knew there was no way to hold back. He came violently, shuddering for a long while before falling back to the mattress.

Remus' head lifted off his shoulder and Harry looked up at him just as he went rigid, his eyes fluttering closed. He looked beautiful in that moment, Harry thought, and he gathered Remus into his arms when all tension had seeped out of his body.

They lay still for long moments. Harry drew lazy circles down Remus' spine, all the way to his arse, wishing he never had to move. Even though most of his senses were keenly attuned to Remus, he still felt Sirius' presence at his side.

"Moony," Sirius said after a while.

Remus grunted, but his eyes remained closed.

Sirius nudged Remus' cheek with his nose. "Moony, please."

"Hmm." He didn't move.

"Moooony—"

"Shhh. Heard you the first time. Had to catch my breath first." With a kiss to Harry's chest, Remus moved away, straddling Sirius and pinning both his hands to the bed.

Sirius pushed up against Remus. "Please," was all he said.

"All right." Remus let go of his hands.. After a quick search through rumpled sheets, Remus had located his wand. Two flicks had Sirius' wrists bound to one of the bed posts. "Now let's see how much you can beg, shall we?"

Sirius whimpered and pulled on his restraints as Remus lowered himself between his legs. Remus teased him mercilessly, licking across and sucking on patches of skin on his belly, his hips, and his thighs.

Harry knew exactly how Sirius felt, having been in the same place before. He wondered what it would be like to have his hands bound, unable to touch or direct Remus' attention to where he'd have wanted it. The renewed stirring in his groin provided one answer, countered by a twist in his stomach. Watching was enough for now, no matter how much he trusted Remus.

Remus made his way up Sirius' body, stopping here and there: an open-mouth kiss a little above his belly button, a playful bite near the top of his ribs. Both elicited a helpless moan from Sirius and a knowing smile from Remus. It was obvious that Remus knew exactly where to place his mouth to draw the most delicious sounds from Sirius.

When they were finally face-to-face, Sirius mumbled "Moony" in such a tender way that Harry's stomach tightened from the realisation of how much could be contained in a single word. Remus brushed wayward strands of hair away from Sirius' face before kissing him for just a moment, only long enough to share a breath between them. He kept looking down at Sirius as he took hold of his cock, and never once looked away until Sirius' head fell back against the pillow, a nearly soundless cry pushing its way out of his throat.

The restraints disappeared a moment later, and they kissed again, feverishly at first, as if they wanted to climb into each other's skin, then slowing until their lips barely touched. Remus smiled and settled against Sirius, sprawling comfortably over most of his body. Not that Sirius seemed to mind: he wound both his arms around Remus, a content expression smoothing out many of the lines on his face.

Seeing them like this, together and at ease with the world, filled Harry with bone-deep happiness. There'd been so many dark times in their lives, hell, in all of their lives, but the way that they were still so obviously smitten with one another was proof that some things could endure through war, separation, grief, and mistrust.

"Can I ask you something?"

Remus lazily opened his eyes, and Sirius turned his head towards Harry. "Hmm?"

"How did you—When was the first time you—At Hogwarts, how did you know that there was something between you?"

"Oh, that was—" Remus began.

"Sixth Year," Sirius interrupted.

"Fifth," Remus corrected.

"Ah no, Moony, Sixth."

"It was Fifth Year, Harry." Remus glanced at Sirius in a way that said he'd better stay quiet or there would be dire consequences. "There'd been little things all year...sitting next to each other too closely, hugs that lingered too long, that sort of thing. Then in March, nearly half of Hogwarts was sick with the flu, your father and Peter included. So it was just Padfoot and me for the full moon. And—"

"I was sick, too, for the record," Sirius interrupted once more. When Remus gave him that look again, he continued, "What? You're leaving out important parts!"

Remus propped himself up on one arm, looking rather amused. "All right, you were sick as a dog—" Sirius rolled his eyes at that statement, "and yet you ran with me that night. Which I was grateful for because full moons all by myself were miserable. In any case, the next morning, Sirius kissed me."

"Just like that?" Harry asked.

Remus laughed. "No, not quite. There was a lot of fussing over me first—"

"Well, I had to make sure you wouldn't hex me if I tried to kiss you, didn't I?"

"Did I ever move away from any of your advances during that year? And didn't I return any and all of the seemingly accidental touches?"

"Still," Sirius insisted.

"It was about time you kissed me, that's what I thought. And I was very glad it wasn't the last time you kissed me, either." Remus leaned down and touched his lips to Sirius'.

"So you were together after that?" Harry mused.

"Yes, you could say that," Remus replied. "Or would disagree, Padfoot?"

"Not...entirely."

"I'd hope so, considering you were in my bed most nights for the rest of the year." Remus looked at him pointedly.

Harry cleared his throat. "You—umm—you shagged in your room? With...with my dad and Pettigrew right there?"

Sirius grinned. "Never was quite as grateful for how good Moony was at Charms until then."

"Oh god." Harry groaned. "Did my dad know?"

Sirius and Remus exchanged a glance. "Well," Remus began, "We never really found out. Sirius and I tried to keep our relationship to ourselves at school, but James did make a few comments later on, after we'd told him and Lily about us, that indicated he'd figured it out while we were still at Hogwarts."

Harry shook his head. "I can't believe that you—oh my god." An even bigger realisation struck him. He rolled onto his back and rubbed a hand across his face. "Dean and Seamus. How could I have been so blind?"

"Pardon?" Sirius sounded confused, while Remus murmured, "Thomas and Finnigan, hmm. They were rather close in your Third Year already."

Harry dropped his hand. "Yeah. They were. And then sometime...I don't know when, sometime before all hell broke lose in Sixth Year they started seeing each other. Officially. Who knows how long that had been going on before then, and right in my dorm, too, and I cannot believe I never thought of it before!"

"But now you know," Sirius quipped.

Harry groaned again.

"Coming back to the subject of me and Moony, however, you still need to hear why it was indeed Sixth Year, and not Fifth Year, that the incredible romance between Remus Lupin and Sirius Black started."

Remus snorted, and Sirius shushed him. He held Remus' gaze, a much more somber look on his face than just a moment ago. "At first, we didn't really think much about what we were doing, or what it meant, or where it might go. But then in Sixth Year..." Sirius shifted under Remus, a half-hearted effort of moving out from under him. Remus' hand settled on his hip, steadying him. Sirius relaxed back against the bed. With a glance at Harry, he said, "You must've heard about that prank I played on Snape."

Harry nodded.

Sirius sucked in a sharp breath. "Right. Things weren't quite the same after that, but at one point, Moony and I—I think we both realised that we weren't done with each other yet."

"Understatement," Remus said quietly.

"What I mean is, we weren't that sure about each other before all the things that happened Sixth Year. But after that..." Sirius trailed off.

"After that?" Remus inquired softly.

"After that I knew that I was head over heels for Remus Lupin and that that wouldn't change for a long, long time."

Remus brought his hand up to Sirius' face, stroking his thumb along his temple. "And it hasn't."

"No."

"Not even in—"

"Not even then."

Remus nodded. "Same for me."

Harry remained quiet, wondering if they'd talked about this so openly before. They would have, wouldn't they? Or maybe not.

"I still insist on March 8, 1974, though," Remus teased.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Can't believe you remember the exact date."

"It was two days before my birthday. It's not so hard to remember."

Harry had the feeling Remus would have remembered even if it had been any other time of the year.
"That's over thirty years," he whispered.

Remus and Sirius stilled for a moment before Sirius let out an exaggerated sigh. "Thank you for making me feel very old, it's much appreciated."

"Sorry," Harry said, his tone indicating that he didn't feel sorry at all. "I think it's incredible."

"That makes two of us," Remus observed.


~*~*~

A sharp knock startled Harry out of the pleasant haze he'd been in since returning from Christmas lunch at the Burrow.

"I'll go," he mumbled, flailing a bit as he tried to sit up, his limbs uncoordinated after a few hours of comfortable sprawl across Remus' lap.

Remus pushed Harry's glasses into his hand. Apparently, he'd also fallen asleep, as the book he'd been reading earlier rested on the arm of the sofa and Remus was rubbing his palm across blinking eyes.

Padfoot looked at them with perked ears (Sirius had insisted that his canine metabolism would make quick work of the enormous amount of food he'd consumed, and had transformed the moment they'd walked through the door).

"Draco, you reckon?" Remus asked.

Harry had almost forgot that it was the full moon tomorrow. "Yeah. Probably."

Remus nodded and picked up his book again.

Harry yawned and stretched on the way to the door.

"About bloody time," Draco muttered. He wore perhaps the longest scarf known to Wizarding kind—it wrapped around his neck at least four times and still dangled down to his waist.

"And Happy Christmas to you, too," Harry replied with extra cheer. " Come in. Why didn't you use the Floo?"

Draco pushed past him. "Didn't seem right on Christmas. I mean...Merlin knows which sight would have awaited me."

Harry rolled his eyes, but inwardly agreed that there was something to Draco's concern. After all, there had been that incident with Sirius and the back of the sofa just two days ago.

"Here." Draco held out a familiar bottle.

Harry accepted it, the glass cold against his skin. It felt so light, as if it couldn't possibly hold something of such importance. "Thanks."

"I'll take that." Remus appeared beside Harry and plucked the bottle out of his hands. "Give Severus my regards."

"I will," Draco replied.

Remus disappeared into his study.

Harry's chest tightened for a moment. Sometimes, the Wolfsbane made Remus feel nauseated, and Harry hoped that wouldn't be the case today. Not on Christmas, he thought. Of all days, not today.

He forced himself to look back at Draco. "Fancy a walk? I'm feeling positively stuffed."

Draco smiled. "Why not. Severus was convinced you'd force some sort of Christmas cheer on me so he isn't expecting me for a while yet."

Harry barely held back the comment about how Snape was the one who could use a Cheering Charm or two. "Let's go out the back door."

He led Draco through the kitchen, grabbed his jacket, scarf, and hat off the peg next to the door, and stepped outside. The frost bit at his cheeks and cold air filled his lungs, sweeping away the lethargy that had taken hold of him earlier.

Frozen leaves crunched under their shoes as they walked across the garden and on to the path beyond. The fields were dusted with small white crystals of ice, almost as if snow had fallen. On the far side, bare trees stretched into the dark purple-blue sky of early evening, the moon already on the rise behind the branches.

Harry stopped for a moment to take a closer look at it, finding it still a beautiful sight even though he knew what it meant for Remus.

"Happy Christmas to you, too," Draco said quietly.

"Thanks." Harry started walking again. "Did you have a good day, you and Severus?"

"Good enough, I suppose. Had to see my parents, and—well, you can probably imagine how that went. Formal lunch, polite conversation, and a complete denial that Severus and I live together."

"I'm sorry."

Draco waved his hand. "Don't be. It is what it is. Besides, if they were as appalled as they lead me to believe, they'd hardly insist that we visit for every bloody holiday."

"That's true."

They walked a little farther, shoulders bumping occasionally. A bend in the path allowed a clear view of the moon and Harry felt his eyes drawn towards it again. "Sirius gave me a book on Animagus transformation for Christmas."

"He did?"

"Yeah." Harry pressed his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket. "It's the book he used, actually. To learn the necessary spells. He and my dad and—they learned when they were at Hogwarts. Don't know if you knew."

"Severus has mentioned it once or twice."

Draco's voice was so even that it took Harry a moment to understand why Snape had probably told Draco about the Marauders. "Um, right. Remus and Sirius want me to try as well. So I can spend the full moon with them."

"That's wonderful." There was undeniable warmth in Draco's voice. "Everything still going well between the three of you, then?"

"Yes." Harry laughed. "I probably haven't had this much sex in such a short time in...well, ever."

Draco shoved him with his elbow, an approving smirk on his face.

"But it's more than that. I feel that—that I belong. With them. It's odd, almost, because it's just there, this...knowing. I probably don't make a lot of sense, do I?" Harry almost didn't care whether or not Draco understood. Voicing the thoughts that had coalesced in his mind over the past weeks made his feelings even more palpable, gave undeniable shape to them.

"You do," Draco affirmed. "I've had such moments myself."

Harry almost asked if they had been shared with Severus, but held back the question. He'd rather believe they were, and leave it at that.

They continued to walk in companionable silence until Harry felt Draco shudder next to him. "Shall we turn back?" The chill was seeping in through his jacket rather persistently as well.

"Yeah, good idea. Warming Charm's giving out and I'd rather not catch my death."

"You're using a Warming Charm on your cloak?"

Draco looked at him as if Harry had asked him if Quidditch was played with three balls. "Do you mean you aren't?"

"Um. No? Should I?"

"The fact that we can see our breaths would be one indication. How can you stand being out here—Never mind, let's just go back."

"'s not that cold," Harry protested under his breath.

"You are so strange, Potter."

They walked back at a much steadier pace, and before long, the yellow light spilling out from the kitchen windows welcomed them. Warmth prickled over Harry's skin as he stepped through the door. It was worth enduring a little cold air for this, he thought.

"Well, I'll be off," Draco announced.

"Oh, wait." Harry reached for one of the packages sitting on the kitchen table. "Christmas cake."

Draco eyed the gold wrapping and red bow. "Thank you. I hope you don't mind if..." He drew his wand. "There. Much better."

Gold had been replaced by green. Harry smiled. "Sirius said you'd do that."

"I hope that Black wasn't the one who baked this? I might fear for my health if he did."

"Nah, Remus did. Sirius helped, though. He chopped things. Nuts and such."

Draco still looked skeptical but withheld further commentary. Floo powder in hand, he said, "See you next month."

Harry nodded, and watched Draco call out the address. Green flames flared and died down.

As he walked into the living room, he noted with amusement that Remus and Sirius looked as if they hadn't moved an inch since he'd left, even though Remus had gone to the study and back. Remus was still reading on the sofa while Padfoot dozed in front of the fireplace.

"Had a good walk?" Remus asked.

"Mmmhmm." Harry looked around for Unleashing Your Inner Animal—Animagus Transformation for Beginners.

"Bookshelf," Remus pointed out. "The place books usually can be found."

"I don't remember putting it there, though." Book in hand, Harry settled on the carpet and leaned back against the sofa.

"I took the liberty of rescuing it off the floor before Padfoot got to it."

"Thanks," Harry replied sheepishly.

He opened the book and immediately found himself distracted by the notes in Sirius' handwriting. They outlined the progress they had made over the years, from the first painful attempts to the day they all finally managed to transform.

Remus' hand wound into Harry's hair, fingers gently combing through it.

Harry sighed with pleasure and let his head drop back against Remus' thigh. "I don't know if I can do this." He held up the book for emphasis.

"Of course you can. And will."

Sirius smoothly changed back into his human form—apparently he hadn't been as fast asleep as Harry had presumed—and came to sit next to Harry. "Remember, you're learning from the best. You'll be running around as, well, whatever it'll be, in no time."

This "whatever" was bothering Harry as well, but he'd just have to believe that he wasn't destined to turn into a hedgehog. "If you say so."

"I do. Now look here, this diagram's quite important..." Sirius took the book from Harry and flipped ahead a few pages.

Harry let Sirius' excited words wash over him, certain that they'd be repeated many times. He shared an amused look with Remus, then turned his attention back to the book.



end.





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