minus the grey streaks. He took it as a good sign and summoned up that famous Gryffindor
courage, suggesting, "You could let me take you to dinner?"
March 10th, 1995"You look like hell," Remus said as he made his way into the small cave Sirius was
apparently living in with Buckbeak.
There was a large nest in the corner where the hippogriff was content to sleep,
surrounded by rat carcases and chicken bones. Remus cringed at the sight, his nose
twitching at the offensive smell. From the way that Sirius casually regarded his dwelling, he
had long since grown accustomed to the stench. Opposite Buckbeak's nest was a pile of
papers: a mixture of the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly. He could see Harry's picture in a
few, and one of Hermione dancing with a tall, bulky boy.
"You're terrible at sweet talking, Moony. Now you're definitely not getting in my
pants."
"You're sleeping in a cave," Remus pointed out.
Sirius shrugged. "You occasionally sleep in a cage. Don't be a judgmental prick."
Remus sighed. He had spent the past few days meeting up with Nymphadora—
Tonks, he tried to remind himself—in Diagon Alley, having lunch at the Leaky or stopping
at Florean's for a bite of ice cream. He would not necessarily call the outings dates, especially
since he could never afford to take her anywhere nice, and she always insisted on paying
her half of the bill when it came. It was nice enough just to spend time with her, be near
her and get to know her as a person. The ache to keep her safe slowly dulled, as did his
utter idiocy anytime she spoke or smiled in his general direction. Remus was actually finding
himself happier than he had been in years, and the reason was painfully obvious.
Just as obvious—and just as painful—was the understanding as to why Sirius was
looking worse than ever. Stuck living in a cave so close to Hogwarts that he could see the
towers from this distance yet unable to be near Harry or Hermione with the exception of
reading about them in the papers. It was something that Remus himself had been doing,