Dear Draco and Neville,

How is Seoul? I hope you two haven’t suffered from Portkey-lag. I miss you two a lot. Neville, don’t forget to give Professor Lee all the Quibbler magazines. Also, be sure to look for that very rare squirrel, the one I am calling the Slytherin Squirrel (because of its green fur and its shy nature!), hidden somewhere on the Yonsei University campus. Good luck with that and your Korean herbology studies!

Are there a lot of Nargles, Wrackspurts, and Bibbering Humdingers there? I’ve heard that cucumber kimchi attracts them the most, so I am certain you’ve run into plenty there. Do keep track and see if my theory is correct.

Oh, and Draco, how’s your job? You’re sponsoring the Korean artists, aren’t you? Don’t forget your promise! Send me music samples of the artists you sponsor. I would love to hear their music. Muggles’ music is so much more interesting than wizarding music.

Write back when you can. Don’t mind Hermes biting you, Draco. He does that because he likes you.

Love,
Luna

“Bloody owl!” Draco glared at Hermes, rubbed his sore fingers, and watched how that blasted thing flew over to Neville. Hermes landed on Neville’s shoulder and let out a soft hoot before he nuzzled against Neville’s cheek.

Neville smiled apologetically. “What did Luna write?”

“The usual.” He handed Neville the letter. “She’s reminding you about the magazines and the squirrel, which she has decided to name the ‘Slytherin Squirrel’, and she wants us to test her cucumber kimchi theory, and she’s asking for free samples of the artists I am working with.”

“Mmm.” Neville read as he petted Hermes. “You better write her now. Remember what happened the last time you took your time responding to her?”

Draco groaned. “Don’t remind me. I swear, women are dangerous, and Luna is probably the most dangerous one of them all, even more dangerous than Granger. At least with Granger, she just punches me. But Luna . . . ” He shook his head and took out a parchment and began to write.

“While you do that, I’ll go find some treats for Hermes.”

“Yeah? Just make sure he doesn’t leave any of his nasty ‘surprises’.” Draco ignored Hermes indignant hoots as he wrote a response back to one of his dearest (and weirdest) friends.

“I’m thinking you pissed Hermes off last time, so he refused to deliver the letter . . . ”

“Oh, yeah, it’s always my fault!” Draco scowled at Luna’s newest messenger. “But really, did she have to send a vulture?!”

Neville chuckled nervously before he put his arm around Draco’s shoulders. “At least this one seems well-trained. It’s not poking our eyes out . . . yet. Still, better read what she said and write back as soon as possible.”

With Neville’s arm still on him, Draco leaned comfortably against him, and he began to read the letter out loud, keeping one eye on that vulture.

Dear Draco and Neville,

Hermes has a girlfriend, so he’s too busy with her to deliver this letter. I’ve sent Vladimir this time. His kind is so misunderstood. Just know that Vladimir is gentle. Try petting him on the top of his head. He loves it. One last thing about him — he has a tendency to sing when he’s hungry, so be sure to feed him. He especially loves raw meat.

So, Neville, still no signs of that Slytherin Squirrel? I’m not surprised. It really is shy, so just keep trying. I heard if you entice it with candy floss, your chances of seeing it increases. Oh, and thank you for sending me those articles about Korean herbology. They make excellent reading when I am in the bubble bath.

And Draco, I am really loving the music of Dong Bang Shin Ki, but what is the meaning of their name? Is it some sort of a secret code? Do they change into Nargles if someone figures out their name? Also, thanks for the DVD of their concert. Harry had to push some random buttons on the controller to break something so the DVD would play.

Going back to the concert, these young men are fascinating. The way they dance and sing, it is all wonderful. I think my favourite is Changmin, or Max as he prefers to be called in English. I’ve been learning bits of Korean from watching them. I love Korean. It sounds so different from English . . .

Draco skimmed the rest of the letter, which was incredibly long. “She goes back and forth between talking about the artists, Korean, and about her recent adventure of Wrackspurts hunting with Potter in the Forbidden Forest.”

“Sounds like she’s smitten by that Dong group. What does their name stand for anyway?”

“I . . . ” Draco paused. “I’m not sure. I never asked.”

“Are you going to find out?”

“Maybe–”

Vladimir let out a loud screeching noise, an unpleasant sound that made Draco’s insides twist painfully.

Draco and Neville looked at each other. In a whisper, Neville asked, “Is that his so-called singing?”

“Probably.”

“Well, I guess you–”

“You can feed him, and I’ll write to Luna.” Besides, Draco thought, the sooner he wrote, the faster he could send Vladimir away.

“Fine, but next time you deal with Hermes or Vladimir.”

“Why? You deal with animals better than I. So quit complaining.” He smirked. “I’ll make it up to you later . . . ” He winked as his voice went down to a whisper.

Draco’s smirk grew louder as Neville inhaled sharply before he went to tend Vladimir. As Vladimir’s “singing” increased in volume, Draco quickly started on his reply.

“No letter from Luna?”

Draco shook his head, surprised that it’d been weeks since he’d last heard from her. “No, but given that I haven’t received any frantic owls from Potter, I’m guessing she’s just busy.”

“Shame. I kind of miss Vladimir and Hermes.” Neville carefully trimmed his bonsai tree, a gift Draco had given him a few years back.

“I don’t.”

“Right. Ever since our third year . . . ”

“Don’t remind me!”

Neville chuckled. “I’ll write her a letter.” He glanced at the clock. “You better get going. Don’t keep Rain waiting.”

“Bi.”

“What?”

“That’s the Korean word for ‘rain’.”

“Right, Bi.”

Draco checked over his suit one last time. He looked impeccable, like always. “All right. I’ll be off. Don’t be late tonight.”

“I won’t. Seoul Tower at eight. I’ll get the bus up there. One of my professors told me the cable car was not worth the money, saying something about how they cram about fifty people into that thing.”

“How vile.” Draco pecked Neville’s cheek. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Draco looked out the window as his driver, Mr Kim, inched the car through the heavy Seoul traffic. He’d been at the Leeum Samsung Art Museum at the edge of Itaewon, and now he had to go to Yonsei University to meet Neville for dinner. He could have chosen to Apparate, but he opted for the car ride so he could watch the scenery and the people.

He just wished they weren’t stuck in traffic. According to Mr Kim, that intersection at Hamilton Hotel was the cause of the traffic in Itaewon, and Mr Kim assured him that once they passed that intersection, things would move a lot faster.

Outside, his eyes landed on a woman with long pale blonde hair. Her hair reminded him of Luna, and he fondly remembered how they became friends.

It was during his “eighth year” at Hogwarts. His father was imprisoned in Azkaban. Thanks to Harry Potter, Draco and his mother didn’t get sent to Azkaban, but the Malfoy name was still disgraced after the war. He hadn’t wanted to go back to Hogwarts for his eighth year, but his mother had insisted on him finishing his education, so he begrudgingly went to Hogwarts.

Seeing Luna at Hogwarts reminded him of how she was kept captive in his dungeons, and that guilt made him stay away from her. However, in her strange, peculiar way, she sought him out. At first, he hated her strange conversations about Nargles and Wrackspurts, plus the way she always talked about the Quibbler and always made sure she had a copy for him. Soon, though, Draco came to appreciate Luna’s unique way of looking at the world. He still didn’t exactly like her, but that all changed one day when he went to see his mother at Hogsmeade. Everyone around them had given them nasty looks and indiscreetly talked about them, but not Luna. She just came up to them both and started talking about how emeralds really made his mother’s complexion look youthful.

Afterwards, when the two of them walked back to Hogwarts, Draco knew then that she was a friend. She was odd, but she was a friend, and he knew deep inside that she would not be easy to get rid of even if he’d tried his hardest to shun her.

Exactly two days after his big revelation, she had begun dragging him into the greenhouse Neville worked in. It was awkward, he remembered. Draco didn’t know how to act around Neville, and to his horror, he even discovered he was attracted to him. Still, through the mysterious power of Luna, the two became friends. And it wasn’t long before she began to leave them alone and even told them to hurry up and snog one another before she had to resort to locking them up in a tiny room with Nargles.

Throughout all this, Draco couldn’t help but wonder if Luna really was a Ravenclaw. She seemed sneakier than most hardcore Slytherins.

“We’re almost there.” Mr Kim’s voice interrupted his daydreaming. Draco looked up with a start at the familiar Sinchon Rotary.

Draco nodded. Neville had mentioned to him this morning that Luna hadn’t written back yet. He knew that nothing had happened to her because there hadn’t been any anxious owl messages or Floo-calls from Harry, but he found it odd that she went this long without writing them a letter. In fact, he found himself missing her quirky letters.

In a couple of weeks, he and Neville would finally have some time off from their jobs. He decided then to ask Neville about going back to England for a few days and surprising their friends and families on an impromptu visit. He knew Neville would love the idea, so he created a mental list of gifts, including kimchi, he could bring back home.

DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE DEE DEEEEEEEEEE!

“Fucking hell!” Draco hated that “Fur Elise” doorbell. He especially hated it at three in the morning! He sat up while Neville stirred next to him but didn’t wake. Grumbling and cursing, Draco stomped out of the bedroom and went to look on the screen of his doorbell phone. He didn’t see a face, but he saw a stuffed bear.

Frowning and wondering if a drunk was out there, he grabbed the phone and snapped, “Who are you and why the fuck are you here so late?”

“I’m not late,” said a familiar, dreamy voice. “I’m early.”

“Oh, great. I must be dreaming. A Korean ajusshi that sounds like Luna,” Draco mumbled.

“I’m not an old Korean man. I can be one if you want, but it’d have to be temporary. I don’t think Harry will appreciate me switching genders on him.”

“Wait–” Draco reached the door in two seconds. He pulled it open, nearly jerking his arm out of the socket from the force, and stared at Luna and her three large rolling suitcases, her creative and colourful outfit, and her stuffed bear she had named “Bear”.

She beamed at Draco and said, “Good morning!” Then she flung her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “That was a long Portkey ride. I was surprised there was such a long queue at Hong Kong, but then again, I think King Kong must have been visiting, so that caused the extra waiting around. Anyway, surprise! Happy birthday.”

“Luna, my birthday was two months ago!”

“Oh, then happy early birthday!” She somehow managed to wheel in all three suitcases at the same time — how, Draco wasn’t sure — and she sat on the couch and fingered her kimchi pot earrings. “Is Nev sleeping?”

“Yeah. You know he sleeps like a rock.”

“Yes, I remember now. Oh, and I’m sorry I haven’t been writing. Things have been so busy with trying to plan this surprise visit. I even told Harry to keep it a secret.”

“Well,” Draco said dryly. “You did a great job on that, and you beat me and Neville at our own plans. We were going to go back to England next week and surprise everyone, too.”

“Daddy did say great minds think alike. I only wished Harry could have come with me, but Kingsley really needed him right now, so he wasn’t able to get the time off. At least I promised to bring back a huge container of fresh kimchi.”

“I see.”

“Anyway, I can’t wait to explore this wonderful place for my one-week stay, but I think sleep is finally coming to me. Don’t mind me if I start sleep-walking, all right?”

Draco couldn’t help it. He began to snigger. “Right, right. Let me take you to the guest room.” As he helped Luna settle in her room, he set aside his gift list and focused on a new sightseeing list for Luna.

The next few days passed by in a blur, thanks to them Apparating and Portkeying everywhere. Neville, excited by Luna’s surprise visit, showed her all over Yonsei University and Sinchon, and they even walked around Yonsei University campus with Professr Lee to see if they could get a glimpse of that elusive squirrel. The Slytherin Squirrel remained hidden, but that didn’t deter Luna at all as she ate some of her candy floss and said, “It has to be just right for it to appear. We just have to be patient.”

Otherwise, she loved everything about Seoul and South Korea.

When they took her to Myeong-dong and Namdaemun Market, she marvelled at the marketplaces and the merchandise, amazed that these two places were more condensed and labyrinth-like than Diagon Alley.

They took her to Insa-dong on a Sunday, where the whole street was blocked from traffic, and many arts and crafts vendors filled up the streets. Luna adored that place, and there she said she had got new ideas for her future jewelleries.

She became enthralled with Korean architecture when they visited Gyeongbok Palace. Harry had given her a digital camera, and Luna had taken so many photographs that they had to go to the sprawling Yongsan Electronics Market later to stock up on more SD cards.

Luna, not really into the clubbing scene, still decided to check out the night life at Hongdae and Sinchon, and they even walked around Itaewon, bar-hopping on the side streets and in the so-called Hooker Hill area.

They rode the Han River cruise boat, and they went to the wealthier neighbourhoods in Gangnam district. From there they went to Coex Mall, and they visited a Buddhist temple, Bongeunsa, across from it.

They even managed to make a getaway to Gyeongju, the old capital of the Silla dynasty, and there Luna snapped more photographs of the old king’s burial mounds.

Finally, they stopped by Jeju Island, where Luna insisted that she wanted to see Love Land, the sex-themed theme park that is popular amongst honeymooners. Both Draco and Neville found themselves blushing, but Luna remained unfazed as she clicked away on her camera. “I can’t wait to show Harry these pictures,” she exclaimed at one point.

Unfortunately, all good things came to an end eventually, and Luna’s week was slowly, but surely coming to an end. On her last night in Seoul, Draco decided to surprise Luna.

“You have three tickets to a Dong Bang Shin Ki concert? And I get to meet them after the concert backstage?”

Draco chuckled. “Yes, you’re a VIP for today.”

Luna smiled widely, and she practically pounced on Draco as she hugged him. “Thank you so much! I can’t believe I get to hear them live and meet them! I better get ready!”

When she dashed off, Neville leaned over and whispered, “I hope you have earplugs ready for us.”

“Hrm?”

“I don’t know about you, but I don’t think my ears will appreciate millions of fangirls screaming for DBSK.”

“Oh, right.” Draco reached into his pockets and pulled out two pairs of earplugs. “I learned my lesson the last time I had to attend one of these things.”

Neville pulled Draco into a warm embrace. Draco felt warm lips grazing his forehead, and that gave him an idea. He arched upward, leaned in close until his breath ghosted over Neville’s ears, and said, “Want to try out some of those positions we saw at Love Land tonight?”

Draco sniggered at Neville’s sputtering and red face. He laughed even harder when Luna came out and asked, “Why so red, Nev?”

“He’s just a bit steamed up. Don’t worry about him.” Draco walked up to Luna, who was dressed in a simple black strapless dress. She had on tights that were striped in blue and bronze, and she wore a dangling kimbap earring. He held up an arm and said, “Let’s go, love.”

“Good morning!” Luna cheerfully greeted.

Draco and Neville stumbled towards the dining room. Neither were morning people, but they woke up early so they could pack and go back to England with Luna.

Draco stared at the plate in the middle of their table. It looked like carrot cakes, but they were cut into brownies. Both Draco and Neville sniffed the fragrance that permeated their whole place, and Draco knew then that whatever was on that plate was not carrot cake.

Neville cleared his throat and said, “Luna, is that . . . ”

“Oh, that? It’s my newest baking experiment. I couldn’t sleep last night, and I didn’t want to interrupt you two, so I made this — kimchi brownie!”

Instead of blushing, Draco and Neville both glanced at each other, and they both mirrored the other’s pale, blanched expression.

Click on the image for the larger version. Fanart by Heldrad.

“I baked this to thank you guys for the wonderful visit. The whole week has been fantastic, and last night was especially the best. All of the DBSK boys were adorable and fun. I especially loved talking to Changmin, and I am further convinced that he’s been reincarnated from a Nargle, which makes him extra special.”

Draco nodded and forced a smile on his face. “That’s great, Luna, and I am glad you had a wonderful visit, but, ah, I am not very hungry right now so I’ll try the brownies later, all right? Besides, Neville and I have to pack.”

Luna clapped her hands once. “Right! I need to pack, too! I’ll bring these brownies for our trip back to England. I’ve a feeling we might be receiving another visit from King Kong in Hong Kong, so these will come in handy. Plus, I can give some to Harry. He’ll love these.” She hummed and went to her room to pack.

Neville and Draco went to their room to pack, too. Behind the closed door, Draco muttered, “Don’t worry. I have some extra anti-acid potions for us.”

“Might as well save some for Harry, too. I’ve a feeling he’ll be eating most of those brownies,” Neville mentioned. “Oh, and are you sure Jaejoong will be able to take care of my plants?”

“He will. You know he aced herbology at his school.” Draco sniggered. “Otherwise, I can bring back Luna’s brownies and give them to him.”

“So cruel,” Neville teased as he carefully placed his grandmother’s gift, a beautiful celadon vase, in his trunk. “Still, I’m glad we’re going home for a week. It will be good to see everybody.”

“Yes.” Draco then added, “At least no one’s doorbell will play that blasted tune.”

“Someone really loves Beethoven, doesn’t he?”

“Ah, shut it, love. Let’s finish packing so we can take some of that potion. I’ve a very bad feeling we will be stuck in Hong Kong for a while. This is peak season for international Portkey travels.”

“Right. Do you really think King Kong hangs around in Hong Kong?”

Draco rolled his eyes and continued his packing.

“Draco! Vladimir is here. Remember, you have to take care of him this time.”

“I know, I know,” Draco groused. Despite his grumbling, he discovered that he and Vladimir got along way better than he and Hermes ever did. He served Vladimir some raw meat while Neville read out loud Luna’s letter.

Dear Draco and Neville,

Harry suggested that I send you some more kimchi brownies, so here’s another batch! I hope you guys enjoy these.

I really miss the two of you, and I am really thankful for all that you did for me when I visited last month.

The new school year at Hogwarts has started, and things have been incredibly busy. I’ve introduced Dong Bang Shin Ki to my Muggle Studies students, and all the girls love them. I’ve convinced Minerva to let Muggle electrical devices work just in my classroom. I’ve shown them all my DBSK DVDs, and I let them listen to their music any time they want.

Right now I am in the process of convincing Minerva to allow me to bring ten female students to South Korea during winter break for a few days. I’ve even told her that you’d be happy to house us while we are there. If you need assistance with room expansion charms, Harry will come along and lend a hand. He’ll be able to help me chaperone this winter. Ginny, too. She wants to come along and see the Korean brooms and purchase a few for her Flying class.

So what do you think? Will you be able to let us stay? Let me know as soon as possible!

Love,
Luna

P.S. — Hermes is now a father! When I come this winter, I’ll bring you one of his babies!

Draco and Neville stared at each other. Neither spoke for a while until Neville said, “Do you still have those earplugs?”

“Yeah. I guess we’ll need them if we host ten mad fangirls for a few days. Something tells me that Silencio will not block their squealing.”

Neville’s face turned green. “This will certainly be interesting.”

“Mmm . . . ” Draco scratched Vladimir’s head and asked, “Think I should introduce Luna to Super Junior?”

“If you do, you’re on your own hosting them this winter,” Neville deadpanned.

“But both Potter and Weasley are coming. You wouldn’t dare leave me defenceless against them and ten teenage girls, would you?”

“Well,” Neville conceded. “Fine, but introduce her to Super Junior after they leave!”

“Deal.”

The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed. — Carl Jung

Teddy remembered the first time he met Neville. That was his earliest and most vivid memory from childhood. He was playing at Harry’s place, and they were drawing and finger-painting in the sitting room. It was a messy activity, but Teddy loved it since he enjoyed the cool feel of the wet paint on his fingers and the colours he could combine to make what his grandmamma would call a “repursibe brown”. He didn’t think it was “repursibe” at all. He found it appealing since it matched his natural hair colour.

He’d been in the middle of trying to paint an orange cat — just like “Cookshrank” — when the Floo activated and out popped a man Teddy had never seen before.

Click on the image for the larger version. Fanart by Vividescent.

“Neville!” Harry exclaimed, standing up to greet their visitor. “What brings you here, today?”

The man called Neville was taller and broader than Harry. He had a friendly face, a slightly crooked smile, and eyes that twinkled. Teddy wasn’t sure what colour Neville’s hair was; to his eyes, it was either yellow or brown. Teddy watched with wide eyes as Neville dusted himself off with his large hands. He could plainly see dirt under Neville’s fingernails, and that surprised him since he thought most grown-ups didn’t play with dirt.

When Neville talked, his voice sounded very deep, one that made Teddy feel like he was eating delicious chocolates. “I stopped by — I know I’m overdue for our regular visit.” The warm brown eyes turned to look at him, and Teddy stared back without a sound. “Is this Teddy?”

Harry nodded. “He’s with me today because Andromeda had to do stuff. Teddy? This is Neville Longbottom, one of my good friends from school.”

Teddy still didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure what to say.

A gentle smile came over Neville’s face, and Teddy watched him crouch down until their eyes were level. “Hey, there. I see you’re painting. Can you tell me about your picture?”

“It’s Cookshrank. It’s Herminny’s cat,” Teddy answered in a soft voice.

“Wow! It’s very good. Very colourful.”

Teddy smiled a bit as his large eyes stared questioningly at Neville’s hands. “Um . . . Mr Longbutton?”

“Neville. Just call me Neville.”

“Okay, ‘Nebul’, why’s your hands dirty?’

“Teddy,” Harry interjected. “That’s not a polite thing to ask.”

“But . . . ”

“It’s okay, Harry. He’s just a kid.” Neville laughed. It was a soft laugh, and it sounded happy. One of Neville’s hands reached out to pat Teddy on his shoulder. “It’s dirty because I work with plants. I like Herbology.”

“‘Herbogey’? What’s that?”

“It means I like to study plants and make them grow.”

“Really? Like flowers? Trees?” Teddy thought that was really cool. “That means you play with dirt?”

“Yep, I play with dirt.” Neville’s smile revealed his crooked teeth, and Teddy found them funny looking.

“Can I play with Herbogey, too?”

Neville and Harry laughed. “Sure,” Neville said. “I’ll show you my personal greenhouse one day.”

“Okay!”

Teddy decided that Neville was someone fun and different. He wasn’t as outgoing or funny as Ron or George, nor cool and beautiful like Bill or Fleur, but he thought Neville was super-nice and friendly for a grown-up. Plus, Neville played with dirt. That alone was good enough for him.

He wished all grown-ups weren’t so picky about playing with dirt.

“Grandmamma? How come Charlie has a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend?” Teddy wriggled a loose tooth as he watched his grandmother turn an interesting shade of red. It was quite an impressive sight, considering how she lacked any Metamorphmagus skills.

“Teddy Remus Lupin! What kind of a question is that?”

His friends told him to always smile innocently with big puppy eyes to avoid trouble with grown-ups. Teddy felt like he ought to give that a try. He had a feeling he’d just bungled up, so he widened his eyes and answered in a child-like voice, “I just wanted to know why he’s got a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend. I thought it was normal for boys to have girlfriends. Not boyfriends.”

“Well . . . some men like men and some women like women. Love . . . love isn’t something one can be judgmental about. As long as the people themselves are kind and caring individuals, it doesn’t matter who they love.”

Teddy thought about her answer. He thought about the people he loved himself, but he figured that there were different, more grown-up kinds of love. “So it’s a choice people make?”

“Yes, dear. We all have the right to love who we want.”

He glanced at a plant, and he was reminded of something. “Does that mean Neville’s the same way?”

“Same way? Oh, you mean like Charlie?”

Teddy nodded.

“Well, yes, I suppose . . . but Teddy, it’s really none of your business. Don’t go around poking your nose where it doesn’t belong,” Andromeda said in a firm voice. “Now, let’s go practise your penmanship! I will not have a grandson who writes poorly.”

“Yes, Grandmamma.”

As he practised on improving his handwriting, Teddy daydreamed about Neville. He was slowly finding out that Neville was an interesting man. He’d heard stories about Harry and his friends’ adventures in their seventh year. He’d also heard stories about Neville’s bravery as he fought the bad wizards and witches in Hogwarts. Neville had acted quite headstrong and determined, and Teddy thought it didn’t quite fit what he knew of Neville right now.

The Neville he knew right now was kind and gentle, always friendly and polite, and Teddy enjoyed talking to him about the different kinds of plants. He’d visited Neville’s personal greenhouse several times now, and he’d watched Neville bent over a pot to take care of a flower, his hands and arms all black and brown from the dirt as he worked with a happy smile. Teddy really was having a hard time imagining Neville fighting the bad guys.

But all that didn’t matter to Teddy. He knew Neville was a good person, and that was what counted.

Teddy looked at the crowded platform, where he could hear the chattering and shouts of excitement from the students and their guardians. He clutched his grandmamma’s hand and Harry’s hand tightly. He knew he should be excited that he was finally going to Hogwarts, but he felt fear and nervousness surging through him instead.

He looked at the trunk Harry was levitating. It had all his new textbooks; he’d already flipped through them, and the scent of new books had wafted to his nose, encouraging him to get a head start in reading. There were new parchments, quills, and inks for him. He’d stuffed his “Hairy Teddy” in there along with some sweets, his potions equipment, and some new robes. In Grandmamma’s other hand, she carried a cage with a beautiful tawny owl Teddy had named “Amber”. He was ready for Hogwarts with all his new stuff, but he didn’t want to leave home.

He mainly didn’t want to leave his grandmamma and Harry, but he knew he had to go to Hogwarts. He just wished he didn’t have to board there, but that was the way things were so he had go with the system. Tears were in the back of Teddy’s eyes, and he blinked hard to keep them from coming out. He didn’t want to cry. He was going to Hogwarts now, and Hogwarts boys did not cry in public places.

However, when Grandmamma hugged him tightly, he buried his face in her chest, and a few tears came out against his will. He sniffled loudly, and he wrapped his arms around her tightly and mumbled, “I don’t want to go.”

“Oh, Teddy, it will be fine. You’ll love it there, and we’ll write to each other. You’ll make new friends and have the time of your life,” Grandmamma soothed him.

Teddy wasn’t convinced. He wanted to study at home like he’d been doing before. Why did he have to go away?

Still hugging his grandmamma, he felt a large hand ruffling his hair, which was in a sombre shade of blue at the moment. “Teddy, don’t you remember all the stories I told you about Hogwarts? The ghosts? The moving portraits? The way to sneak into the kitchen to meet the house elves and grab some extra food?”

Teddy did remember. He did want to see all of the fascinating stuff Harry and Grandmamma had told him, but he just wasn’t ready to leave home yet.

“Plus, don’t forget. Neville will be there. If you ever have any problems, you can go to him,” Harry reminded him.

Neville? Teddy completely forgot about Neville being a professor at Hogwarts. He knew Neville worked there, but Teddy didn’t associate Neville as “Professor Longbottom”. He only considered him as “Neville”. But now that he remembered this little fact, he gave Harry and Grandmamma a brave smile. “Okay, but if I really don’t like it there, will you come get me . . . ?”

“I doubt that’ll happen, but yes, if you really want to leave, we’ll come get you,” Grandmamma promised.

When Harry gave him a big hug, he said, “Say hi to Hagrid for me, okay? And don’t worry so much. You’ll enjoy Hogwarts.”

With one more round of hugs, Teddy trudged onto the train. He found an empty compartment, but it didn’t stay empty that long. He was joined by a hyper girl, named Helena Kensington, who was a cousin of Mr Finnigan, and a friendly young boy named Jacob Goldstein. They were both first years like Teddy, and it wasn’t long before the three of them began to talk and converse like they’d been friends for years.

Eventually, they reached their destination, and he heard Hagrid’s loud voice calling all the first years towards him. After relaying the message to Hagrid from Harry, Teddy got in a boat with his new friends. Harry had told him about the Giant Squid, and even though he didn’t really want to run into the beast, he still kept out an eye for any signs of it.

Professor Vector, the deputy headmistress, greeted them in the castle, and she led them into the Great Hall.

Once again, nervousness came fluttering into his stomach as Teddy sensed thousands of eyes watching him. All the first years were silent, including Helena and Jacob, and they all stood in a line to go through the Sorting. Even though Teddy had heard plenty of stories about the Sorting Hat, it still tickled him to hear it actually sing.

The first student, a girl by the name of Victoria Adams went first. The Sorting Hat was placed on her head, and Teddy waited a minute before it yelled, “Ravenclaw!”

As he waited for his turn, he wondered which house he would be put in. Would he go to Gryffindor like his father or Harry? Or would his mother’s house fit him more? Would he be sorted into Slytherin like his grandmamma? There was also Ravenclaw. Teddy really wasn’t sure where he’d end up.

Jacob went to Gryffindor, and Helena ended up in Slytherin. He waited and waited until Professor Vector finally said, “Lupin, Teddy!” Taking small steps to the stool, he sat on it. He ignored the stares as he tried to keep his hair brown instead of red. He didn’t want the whole world to see that he was embarrassed by all of this. He glanced up at the Head Table, and there he saw Neville smiling at him. It was an encouraging smile, making Teddy feeling a bit better. Before he could force a smile back, the hat came on him, and he nearly jumped at the voice he heard in his head.

“Well, well. A Lupin and a Tonks! I would have never guessed . . . but let’s see. I see you have a bit of everything going for you. Brave, yes. Hardworking, intelligent, ambitious . . . it’s not often I meet a first year like you, Teddy Lupin. Which house should I put you in . . . ”

I . . . I want to be in . . . the house where I can make people be proud of me. Teddy wasn’t sure why he suddenly thought that, but it was true. He did want to make his grandmamma and Harry and Neville all proud of him. And he wanted to make his parents proud of him, too, wherever they were right now.

“I see . . . if that’s how you feel then I think you will do excellently in . . . SLYTHERIN!”

A Slytherin. He was now a Slytherin. Teddy slipped the hat off, and he nearly stumbled over to the Slytherin table, where he was greeted by a happy Helena, who scooted over to give him a spot. As she chattered on how it was a shame that Jacob hadn’t joined them in the same house, Teddy dazedly stared at the rest of his new housemates. Some of them looked aloof and scary. Some looked as if they just didn’t care about what was happening around them as they conversed to themselves. Teddy felt strange inside. Was this really his house? Was he really suited for this?

He looked up, feeling someone’s eyes on him. He met Neville’s dark brown eyes. They were kind and gentle, and Teddy knew that he had Neville’s approval and support for his Sorting. He remembered what his grandmamma and Harry told him. It didn’t matter what house he was in. No house was better than the other. In Neville’s eyes he saw that same message, and he grew more confident with his house placement.

His nervousness disappeared, and he began to see that being at Hogwarts was going to be fun. Teddy did not regret coming here at all. He would make the best of it.

“Good morning. I am Professor Longbottom, and I want to welcome you all to my class.”

Teddy stared at Neville in awe. This Neville was different from the Neville he was used to. Then again, Neville had always been more of a good family friend than a direct authority figure. Whenever they’d been together, it was always to play in the greenhouse or to have dinner with Harry. He’d never seen Neville in his professor mode, and now he finally saw Neville in action.

“In my class,” Neville continued, “I expect you all to be attentive and on good behaviour. I will not tolerate anyone misbehaving. I have no qualms about giving out detentions or deducting house points. However, I will try to make this subject fun for you all. If you ever have any questions, do ask. The only stupid question is the one that’s never asked. So please, ask questions!”

Standing, Neville had a good, sturdy look about him. His back was straight, and his shoulders were broad. His eyes, while still looking gentle, had a firm look about them, and his mouth was set in a pleasant but no-nonsense smile. It was a strange contrast, but it was very effective. He watched Neville give two students — both were whispering — a fixed stare, and they quieted down without him ever telling them to do or raising his voice. In fact, Teddy noted that Neville never yelled. If Neville ever turned upset, his voice would change in its inflection, and Teddy could hear the disappointment underlying his deep voice

As each day passed, whenever Teddy had Herbology, his respect for Neville grew. Neville was very fair and firm, but he always acted in such a gentle manner that nobody would dare try to disappoint him. Teddy really liked that in Neville, and Neville quickly became his favourite professor after Professor Nott — who was the Head of his House and the Arithmancy professor.

One day he had been outside by the lake, enjoying the autumn breeze, reading at the docks, and again trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive Giant Squid. He had no luck, though, and he was on his way back into the castle when he bumped into Neville.

“Hello, Teddy! What are you up to?” Neville asked cheerfully.

“Oh, Nev– I mean, er, Professor Longbottom. I was just reading outside.” This was the first time he had the chance to talk to Neville outside of class, and he had almost called him “Neville”, which was what he’d always called him before.

“I see. Good book?”

Teddy nodded as they stopped outside the main entrance. Now that he was alone with Neville, he had no idea what to say. Their relationship had changed somehow since he started at Hogwarts; they were now in the student and teacher relationship. Teddy wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. It wasn’t bad per se, but it was awkward. As much as he liked Neville as a teacher, he also missed their easygoing friendship they had before he started school.

“It seems like you’re really enjoying Hogwarts. I’ve heard that you’re doing well in your other classes and I see you’ve made new friends.”

Teddy nodded eagerly, glad that there was something to talk about. “Yes! I love it here, and I really like the whole castle. It’s such a wonderful place, and I do like my new friends.” He and Helena were great friends now, and they were both still friends with Jacob despite their different houses. Whenever they could, the three of them would study together in the library or spend time exploring the castle and visiting the kitchen for a snack.

“That’s great to hear. If you ever have any problems or want to talk about anything bothering you, do stop by my office or my personal greenhouse, okay?”

“All right, Professor. Thank you.”

Neville opened the door to the castle, and he turned and gave Teddy a big smile. “Also, whenever we’re alone, you can just call me ‘Neville’. Just don’t call me that in class, or I will assign a week’s worth of detention with Mr Filch.”

Teddy grinned. “I won’t call you that in class.”

“Have a pleasant day, Mr Lupin.”

“You, too, Professor.”

There were plenty of things for Teddy to learn at Hogwarts. He was taught all about the wizarding subjects — some more fun than others. He discovered that he enjoyed Potions, Herbology, and Transfiguration the best, while he detested History of Magic and Astronomy. Also in his studies, he enjoyed doing the practical lessons more than listening to the theories in lectures.

Aside from school, he learned much about his social life, too. He was slowly finding that not all Slytherins were aloof and scary as he had thought on his first day here. He realised here and there that not everyone would be friends with him, and that was fine with him. He’d always preferred having small groups of friends, and he was happy with Helena and Jacob. And even though he had one unique skill that not many had, he didn’t want to use it all the time and appear like he was bragging. Though, depending on his mood and stress level, it was a bit harder to control his hair or eyes from changing colours when he least expected.

Lastly, Teddy learned, in the beginning of his second year, that there were different kinds of respect. Especially with his professors. He respected most of his professors and listened to them — even if Binns was a boring ghost — and he liked all of them. He valued Professor Nott, his Head of House, and he knew that Professor Nott always had his door opened for the Slytherins if they ever had any problems that needed to be addressed. However, he noticed that he respected Professor Nott differently from Neville. With Neville, he wanted to go talk and get to know him. With Neville, he felt comfortable to the point where he could talk to him about his personal problems; with Professor Nott, he only could talk about school-related topics.

That was why, one day when he struggled with a personal problem of his, he sought out Neville instead of Professor Nott. Yet even though Neville had told him that he was welcome to visit whenever, Teddy still felt a bit jumpy when he knocked on Neville’s personal office door.

“Come in.” Teddy opened the door and entered with his hands behind his back. Neville’s office was a nice, cosy room; sunlight streaming inside gave it a warm and inviting feel. The earthy colours Neville had picked out for his curtains, carpeting, and furniture was a nice change from the rich and high-class office Professor Nott kept. Then there were the various flowers and plants Neville had all over the room. He saw a bonsai tree in the corner, and he remembered the time Neville had shown him how to take care of it. Teddy hoped to keep a bonsai tree of his own one day.

Teddy walked closer to the front of Neville’s desk. It was a large desk, and it was covered with papers. He looked at Neville who, with a quill in one hand and an essay in another, appeared quite occupied. Teddy had a feeling he’d come at bad time. “I . . . are you busy?” Teddy asked, his foot scuffing up the carpet.

“Oh, no! This is my last essay, and then I’ll be done . . . although the mess here probably makes it look like I have more to go . . . do excuse it. I kind of like having my desk all covered up with papers,” Neville explained cheerfully. He set the parchment and the quill down and gave Teddy his full attention. He gestured at the chair that was next to Teddy. “Have a seat. What can I do for you? Oh, would you like some tea and biscuits?”

After getting his own cup of steaming tea, Teddy took a sip and nibbled on a biscuit. “I . . . I need some advice.”

“Oh?” Neville’s brown eyes twinkled, and he lifted one dark blond eyebrow. For a few seconds, that eyebrow distracted Teddy. It wasn’t elegant and thin like Professor Nott’s or bushy and wild like Hagrid’s, but it was in between and nicely-shaped. Teddy didn’t think Neville would cast an eyebrow shaping spell like his grandmamma did, so those brows had to be natural. He decided he’d try to transform his just like that later when he was alone in the loo.

“Grandmamma’s birthday’s coming up. I want to get her a special gift, but I don’t have a clue on what to get her.”

“Well,” Neville said, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his hands together, “what did you get her before?”

“Usually a card with a drawing or something, but I want to do something different this year . . . ” Teddy explained. “I’m coming up with a blank on what I could get her.”

“What are some things she likes?”

“She likes tea, flowers, books, and sewing, but those aren’t anything special for me to get her,” Teddy listed, staring at the teacup in his hand.

“Teddy? Anything you get her will be special since it’s from you.”

“I know . . . but I want to do more.” Teddy wasn’t sure how to explain it, but he really wanted to get her something extraordinary. “I was hoping you could give me a better advice than Helena and Jacob did. Helena told me to get her a subscription to Witch Weekly, and Jacob suggested I get her a bunch of sweets I can nab from her later.”

“Hm.” Neville pondered after he laughed at Teddy’s story. “When is her birthday?”

“In about a month.”

“Why don’t you try to make a handcrafted gift? You can personalise it to her liking, and since you made it yourself, it will really make her happy.”

Handcrafted? Like what? It wasn’t like he knew how to sew or anything. “I don’t know how to do that kind of thing. I can’t sew or knit.”

“Do you know Luna Lovegood-Scamander?” Teddy nodded. Since she was friends with Harry and Neville, Teddy knew of her slightly. “She’s really good at making all sorts of stuff. Maybe she could show you how to make a bookmark or something? You could also learn a stasis charm that will freeze your grandmother’s favourite flower into staying in its beautiful state forever, and you could add to the bookmark. Those are some suggestions.”

Teddy thought about it. It wasn’t something grand like he was originally thinking, but it was a great idea that would allow him to make a unique gift for his grandmamma, and it would be special since he made it personally. “That’s a good idea,” Teddy spoke with a smile. “But I don’t know Ms Lovegood-Scamander well enough to contact her . . . ”

“Then allow me. I’ll contact her. She’ll love to teach you all her neat tricks, and plus, you will be a new audience for her. She’ll love to talk about the Nargles with you.”

“Nargles?”

Neville smiled mysteriously. “You’ll see.”

Intrigued as he was by Neville’s vagueness, Teddy was happier with the fact that he finally had an idea for his grandmamma’s birthday present. Joyfully, he drank and ate more of his tea and biscuit, and he said, “Thanks, Neville.”

Neville’s deep voice answered, “You’re welcome,” and the rest of the afternoon passed by pleasantly as Neville and Teddy talked about Hogwarts and Herbology.

“I hear you’re having some problems in your DADA class,” Neville said, placing a teacup and a saucer in front of Teddy.

Teddy came to have his weekly Saturday afternoon tea with Neville. Somehow, ever since that time when he went to talk to Neville about his grandmamma’s birthday present dilemma, they both made this get-together a weekly ritual. Teddy enjoyed their weekly meeting, but today, he wasn’t in a good mood and he scowled when Neville mentioned “DADA”.

“It’s that Boggart! I . . . I hate that thing!” Teddy exclaimed. He really did detest that creature, and he hated how its main purpose was to scare individuals by revealing their deepest fears out in the open like that. His deepest fear was loneliness, and although the Boggart would transform into this ball of darkness, and although he could see that it puzzled his schoolmates, he didn’t want them to know what his real fear was. Even though it was rather humorous to see his friend’s deepest fear — Helena was afraid of some weird looking people with white make-up on their faces, giant noses, weirdly painted mouths, colourful curly hairs, and these bizarre, puffy, polka-dot outfits — he still didn’t want to display his vulnerabilities.

“I don’t blame you. I didn’t really enjoy those either, but your father turned our Boggart class into a fun one . . . at least for me.”

Teddy brightened at the mention of his father. Harry had told him stories about his father as a professor, but Neville never mentioned about his experiences with his father. And since Neville never talked about it before, Teddy had almost forgotten the fact that Neville was a student of his father’s.

“Will you tell me about that class? Harry had already told me, but . . . I’d like to hear it from your perspective. And how come you’ve never talked about my father before?” Teddy didn’t mean to sound so curious and invasive, but he wanted to hear about his father. His grandmamma had plenty of stories to tell about his mother, but aside from Harry, there weren’t a lot of people he could talk with about his father.

Neville laughed lightly. “Which one do you want me to answer first?”

With his face and his hair turning red, Teddy stammered, “I, er, that is . . . ”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just joking.” Neville sipped on his tea before continuing. “Your father, as I’m sure Harry had told you, was a wonderful professor. Patient and kind, he allowed me to grow at my own pace, and he never once made me feel like I was a failure. I almost want to say, he’s probably the first adult who really instilled any confidence in me.”

Teddy listened to the Boggart story. He’d already heard about that particular class from Harry, but hearing the same story from Neville, it sounded different yet still very familiar.

As he listened and processed this precious bit of information, he realised that his father had left an impact on quite a few people. Sure, his father had only taught at Hogwarts for one year, but he knew, whether it was a day or a decade, single or multiple encounters, one person can leave a lasting impression on someone, leaving a bit of themselves behind.

His father had done that. Teddy felt like his father was more tangible after hearing these stories, and since he heard it from Harry and Neville — the two people he felt most connected to — he understood then that he was not alone, and he should never fear loneliness.

His father had given Harry and Neville confidence. Now, it was his turn. Indirectly, he received confidence from his father through Neville, and he’d tackle that bloody Boggart now!

“I can see you’re ready to challenge that Boggart. Shall we do that?” Neville asked, smiling as he stood up.

Teddy grinned. “Ready. Oh, and Neville? Thank you.”

He didn’t have to clarify on what he was thanking Neville for. Neville already knew.

Teddy grumbled and glared at the blank parchment, wishing he could burn it up with his eyes. He couldn’t concentrate on anything at the moment, especially not an essay; all he could think about was his latest argument with his grandmamma.

Behind him, he heard Neville shuffling about, seeing to his plants. It wasn’t a Saturday; Teddy only came here today to work on his dreaded Muggle Studies essay, wanting a quiet place with no distraction. Yet he was too high-strung to get the words out.

He startled when he heard Neville ask, “All right there, Teddy?”

Teddy grunted, watching the ink from his quill drip onto the clean parchment, wondering if he could at least train his eyes to do telekinesis and draw an unflattering image of his grandmamma. He decided against that idea. Knowing her psychic abilities, she’d find out and chew his ears out since she was obviously part-Harpy. Or at least distantly related to one.

He looked up when Neville sat across from him, who said lightly, “Sorry, but I don’t speak or understand cave-man language. Care to speak in English? Or maybe Welsh? I know a bit.”

Teddy bit his tongue. It really wouldn’t be wise to tell a professor — no matter how close they are — to bugger off. He thought for a minute before he asked, “How come you stopped being an Auror?”

Neville blinked before he said, “It just wasn’t for me. I’ve always preferred Herbology.”

“If you’ve always preferred Herbology, why’d you become an Auror?”

“To be honest, I wanted to still try it. It was something my parents did. I wanted to try it and see if I could feel closer to them. And Gran, who raised me, had this idea that I’d be like my father, her only son.”

It was Teddy’s turn to blink. “That’s it!” he blurted. “That’s the same thing Grandmamma’s pushing me into! She wants me to be an Auror. She insists that it’ll be a good career and it’ll let me work with Harry.” He looked off to the side, trying to suppress his bitterness. He tried to keep the words from coming out, but they escaped him. What he said next wasn’t exactly true, but he was just so frustrated that the words tumbled out. “I think that’s all she sees me as. I look more like my mum. I’m a Metamorphmagus like my mum. I like to be a night owl like my mum. Apparently, I am my mum’s clone! Grandmamma doesn’t see me as me. I’m just a male version of Mum!”

Breathing hard, Teddy angrily looked away as tears stung his eyes. He hated to lose his composure, but after days of keeping his feelings bottled up, he just couldn’t hold it in any longer.

Neville didn’t say anything, and Teddy realised then that he probably sounded really immature and bratty. Bowing his head, his fringe covering his eyes, Teddy mumbled, “Sorry.”

“No need to apologise,” Neville answered calmly.

Teddy looked up then, and he saw something in Neville’s face. He didn’t see disgust or pity; he saw support and understanding in those brown eyes. “You understand,” he said simply.

Neville nodded. “What is it do you want to pursue after Hogwarts? What is it you really want to do?”

“Potions. I . . . I want to study it and be a Potions master.”

“Have you ever tried to tell your grandmother what you just told me?”

Teddy shook his head. “I didn’t think she’d listen. She’s . . . stubborn.” He stopped himself in time from saying “an old cow”.

“You should do so. Granted, like you said, she’ll be stubborn, but she’ll come around. Gran did for me. Eventually.” Neville grinned. “Just don’t do your screaming banshee act, all right? Believe me when I say that older women are not to be messed with. They are quite . . . formidable.”

Teddy snorted. “And strange.”

“I can’t disagree with you on that.” Neville laughed and shook his head. “Then again, my grandmother likes to wear vulture hats.”

“That’s nothing. Mine thinks sauerkraut with liver is tasty. I think she’s mad. Those two things are nasty, and that sauerkraut stinks up the whole house when she makes it. I swear, her nose is fully clogged.” Teddy sniggered at the green tinge on Neville’s face.

Neville coughed. “Well, we’ll have to exchange grandmother stories later.” He eyed Teddy’s parchment. “Is that your Muggle Studies essay?”

“Yeah.”

“You better start writing that essay. Now that Luna’s the new Muggle Studies professor, the consequences are not pretty if you don’t do well on your assignment.”

Rolling his eyes, Teddy dryly said, “I don’t mind listening to her talking about the Nargles. She does that whenever she helps me with Grandmamma’s gifts.”

“Oh? That’s only like a few hours.” Neville’s face turned green once more. “Try ten hours and throw in twelve hours of her talking about the Blibbering Humdinger and Crumple-Horned Snorkack to the mix.”

Teddy stared at Neville and then quickly looked at the parchment. “Er, I suppose I should concentrate fully on the many uses of a Karaoke machine.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Teddy groaned as he lifted up his blanket to see his morning greeting. This had become a daily occurrence, and he knew this was normal for a boy of his age, but the content of his dreams confused him. Instead of soft and gentle curves, dainty and pretty hands, perky breasts, and a gorgeous female seducing him, he had hard angles, large and callused hands, a flat chest, and a handsome male seducing him.

He wasn’t particularly bothered by the fact that it was a faceless bloke invading his sexual fantasies. Then again, he’d never really thought about his sexual orientation that much before. He’d just assumed he liked the ladies; the idea that he’d prefer the gentlemen had never really occurred to him until these dreams appeared almost out of nowhere.

Something in the back of his mind was trying to tell him something. He sensed something familiar about the faceless bloke, but no matter how much he mulled over that pesky implication, he was unable to figure out the faceless bloke’s identity.

He needed to talk about this with someone, someone who wasn’t an adult and who wouldn’t judge him.

He decided to tell Helena first; he was slightly closer to her anyway. He’d tell Jacob later.

He told her at the docks. It was just the two of them enjoying the warm spring sunshine and the flower-scented breeze. He took a deep breath and said, “I think I’m gay.”

Helena’s gum went flying and landed in the water with a plop. She turned and stared at him as her mouth moved without making a single sound. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Not that I care, but why do you think you’re gay. It’s either you are or you’re not. Or you could be bisexual. If that’s the case, your Metamorphmagus skills will come in handy if your next man or woman decides they want to experiment having sex with the opposite gender.”

He gave her a horrified look. “How can you say all that with a straight face?”

“It’s in my nature.” She smirked at him. “Now, don’t change the subject. Why do you think you’re gay?”

“I . . . I just think I am?” No matter how close they were, he decided to keep his fantasies and dreams a secret only privy to himself.

“Look,” she said exasperatedly. “Are you asking me to help find out if you are? Is that what this is about? You want me to plant you a big, wet kiss or something?”

Unsure if she was serious or not, he slowly said, “I guess?”

“Fine, fine.”

Before his brain could decipher her response, she grabbed him by his arms, and her grip was extremely strong — not surprising since she was one of the Beaters. As his arms protested against her iron-clad hold, she pulled them together, with her breasts squashing into his own chest. He didn’t find them pleasant or soft. When their lips met, her teeth clashed into his, but after that initial bumpiness, they stayed still, hers pressing against his, and he waited for some sort of a spark or a “zing” he secretly read about in his grandmamma’s trashy romance novels from her own hidden stash.

He felt nothing. No spark, no zing, absolutely nothing.

They parted, and she grinned. “You didn’t like it.”

He gave her an apologetic look. “I’m so–”

“Don’t apologise. You don’t need to. At least we’ve established that you don’t like kissing girls — or at least me. Are you going to test your gay theory by kissing Jacob? That would actually be a very interesting way to come out to him.”

“Helena!” he yelled. “Ew! Just, no! I think he’d punch me if I tried!”

“True. A shame, though. I’d kill to have a picture of you two snogging. That could be my personal wanking material . . . ”

He covered his ears and shouted, “Too much information!”

Helena’s laugh could be heard all the way to Wales.

“I have a question,” Jacob said, blowing on his hands. “That damn warming spell is not helping.”

“That’s,” Helena said witheringly, “not a question.”

Teddy snorted as he watched the people pass by. Many were Hogwarts students enjoying their Hogsmeade weekend, but there were older wizards and witches bustling through the busy town.

Jacob glared. “Thank you for pointing out the obvious, but my previous comment goes well with what I’m about to say next. Why, for the love of Merlin, are we people watching out in this freezing weather?!”

“There’s more to see out here,” Helena explained. “While Teddy and I admire the handsome wizards walking around, you can drool over the witches and imagine them propositioning to you. A shame it’ll never happen in reality.”

“Oi!” Jacob shouted while Helena threw her head back and laughed. “I don’t see any wizards coming up to you or Teddy! Teddy, why are you letting her abuse me like this?”

Holding back his own laughter, Teddy held up his hands and backed away. “Don’t drag me into this. You and I both know that it’s pointless trying to outwit her.”

Something caught Teddy’s eyes. Ignoring his two best mates bickering as usual, he squinted his eyes, barely making out the two people in the shadows of the dark alleyway. His eyes widened a bit as he watched the two of them in their private snog fest. He could see one of them pressed against the wall; he took in that wizard’s strong grip on his partner’s hips. The way the two moved against one another appeared so powerful, so needy yet beautiful, that Teddy had to force himself to look away. Yet he couldn’t help but feel something off about this, feel like he should know one of those wizards.

Helena and Jacob hadn’t noticed anything. They were still arguing with each other, so Teddy walked away from them and he leaned against a wooden fence and dug through his bag of sweets. He picked out a Chocolate Frog and unwrapped it, holding onto the sweet tightly so it wouldn’t escape. Just as he took a bite, he saw one of the wizards walk out from the alleyway. He looked at the wizard’s back, looked at the familiar dark-brown robes, the slightly shaggy dark-blond hair, and he stilled. The chocolate in his mouth melted, but he couldn’t taste anything. He just stared at the wizard’s back, feeling something igniting deep inside of him.

“Oh! Hello, Professor Longbottom!” Helena’s distinctively loud voice pulled him out from his stupor, and Teddy now stared into Neville’s slightly flushed face.

And Teddy knew why Neville’s cheeks were pink, he knew why Neville’s lips were swollen, and he knew why the back of the robes looked slightly dusty.

He knew.

His feelings hidden inside of him intensified. Anger, happiness, sadness, eagerness. They all warred against each other within him. All those times he’d spent with Neville, the advices, the conversations, those dreams . . . he’d somehow fallen for Neville Longbottom.

He was in a daze. He could hear Helena and Jacob talking to Neville. He heard himself telling Neville that he’d just bought some sweets. When Neville walked away, Teddy didn’t miss the concerned looks from him. And when Helena and Jacob asked if he was all right, he answered in a monotonous voice.

At the castle, when he was finally alone in his dorms, his mind cleared up a bit. He lay on his bed and closed his eyes, and it wasn’t long before his imagination took over. He thought about what it would be like if he’d been the one pushing Neville against that dirty wall, wondered how tight Neville’s hands would be on his hips. Those same hands were always gentle and caring towards any plant life. Would there be dirt under the nails? How would Neville’s callused hands feel when they touched him?

He thought about the kiss, remembering how that one kiss with Helena left him feeling nothing. Somehow, he just knew that kissing Neville would be different. The “zing” he so craved, he almost could sense it on his own lips. He then pondered on how Neville would taste. Would he taste the tangy flavours of Earl Grey — Neville’s favourite tea — or would it be something different? Something spicy? Sweet?

In a joint effort, all of his senses and his mind worked overtime as he fantasised all of this to the point he almost thought Neville was actually in the room with him — kissing, touching, never stopping, and always encouraging.

After hours of lying on his bed, Teddy whispered, “Blimey.”

With this huge revelation, he knew that everything had changed for him.

Their Saturday get-togethers occurred less. Teddy told Neville he was too busy studying for his NEWTs, a perfectly good excuse he used all throughout his seventh year.

Honestly, though, being away from Neville was a blessing and a curse. Teddy hated being away from him, hated that he had to lie and pretend he was too NEWT-obsessed to be in the same room as him. Even his Herbology classes were doing a number on his libido. Every time he saw Neville do something, he wanted to jump him. Just hearing Neville’s deep voice and watching those wonderful hands touch a plant in a caressing manner made Teddy instantly aroused.

It wasn’t long before Helena and Jacob cornered him at the docks to question his strange behaviours.

“What’s the matter with you? I know I always say that we’re an odd bunch, but you’re acting really weird.” Jacob punched Teddy’s shoulder, making him wince.

Before he could punch Jacob back or shove him into the lake, Helena announced, “I think I know why. Ickle Teddy Bear is in love.”

“That’s your theory. My theory is better,” Jacob said, cutting Teddy off once more.

“What’s your theory? You know I’ve got the brains, right? You’re just too busy fumbling around in Myrtle’s bathroom with whatsherface to come up with a good theory. You’re just going to say something like ‘He needs to get laid’.”

“Oi!”

“You know I’m right.” Helena smirked before turning her attention to Teddy. “Now, fess up!”

Teddy hesitated. He knew his friends wouldn’t judge him, but he wasn’t sure if he could tell them yet. He chose to be vague. “You’re right, I suppose.”

Jacob gave him a wary look. “She is?”

Helena ignored Jacob and gave Teddy a long look. “With who?”

“I don’t really want to say right now.”

“You’re spoiling the fun here. You’re supposed to launch onto about the love of your life and how you’d bring them the moon and the stars or something sappy like that.” She grimaced. “Never mind. I should know better than to believe in those crap-filled romance novels.”

Before Teddy could retort with something witty, Jacob, in an uncharacteristically quiet voice, said, “It’s Professor Longbottom, isn’t it?”

Teddy swallowed loudly, fighting hard to keep his purple hair from changing colours. He could have easily denied his friend’s claim and lied. But he found himself unable to deny the truth now that it was out in the open, especially when his two best friends were right in front of him. Closing his eyes tightly, he nodded.

Nobody said anything. Teddy could hear the splashing from the lake, the distant chattering of students, and Fang’s barking. There was a breeze, and the pages of his book fluttered under his thumbs. Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and forced himself to look at his friends.

He nearly fell off the docks upon seeing their grins.

“We knew it. Or at least we guessed it, but I was the one who thought of Professor Longbottom.” Jacob turned towards Helena and gleefully said, “I was right. You owe me now!”

Grumbling, Helena muttered, “For once. I mean, it was kind of obvious, so even you could have picked up on Teddy’s sudden mood changes and the changes in his schedules.”

Teddy blinked. “You guys were betting on me?”

“Not really. We were just guessing.” Helena sat next to Teddy and put an arm around his shoulders. “I have to say, you have good taste. That Professor Longbottom does have some nice arse.”

“Please! I respect the bloke. Really, I do, but let’s not talk about his or anyone’s arse at the moment?” Jacob intervened.

Laughter escaped Teddy’s mouth, and he felt tension leaving his body. He should have expected his friends to make a serious situation into a fun one.

Helena rolled her eyes at Jacob’s statement. “I’m going to pretend you’re invisible. I’ll just talk to Teddy. Anyway, Teddy, dear, what are you going to do about your great love for Professor Longbottom?”

“Nothing,” Teddy sighed.

“Nothing?” Jacob and Helena said together.

“Yeah, nothing. I mean, I . . . ”

“Is it because you don’t want to broach that student and teacher relationship thing?” Helena asked.

“No, that’s not it . . . ”

“Is it because you don’t feel like you’re — how should I put this . . . oh, sod it. You don’t feel like you can confess anything to him until you feel like you’re his equal or something?” Jacob questioned seriously.

Helena and Teddy gaped as if Jacob had grown another head and a tail.

“What?” Jacob looked annoyed. “Despite what you two might think, I am not an idiot.”

“Ah.” Helena snapped her finger with a smile. “You’ve been reading those psychology books of yours, haven’t you? Well, you’ve always been a bit sex-crazed, so all those Freudian stuff should be a no-brainer for you!”

“Aw, stuff it, Helena!” Jacob gave Teddy his full attention. “Anyway, if that’s the case, then the solution is simple! Go out into the real world, live a little, and then when you’re ready to conquer Professor Longbottom, go after him.”

“Yeah, follow Jacob’s plan. I hate to admit it, but it’s actually a good one. You need to be wiser and gain more self-confidence to go after a man of Professor Longbottom’s calibre. You can do it, Teddy.”

“Oh, you two!” Teddy laughed once more and crushed them into a three-way hug. “Thanks. For everything.”

“Don’t thank us. Thank Professor Scamander. Have you been talking to her lately? She made me and Jacob have a meeting. A three-hour long meeting, sprouting about Nargles or something, saying that they’ve possessed you, and that we need to talk to you.” Helena made a face. “We don’t take Muggle Studies like you do. Does she go on like that all the time?”

“Well, the last time I met her, my head was in the clouds . . . ” Teddy gave them a sheepish look. “Yeah, she tends to ramble, doesn’t she?”

“Definitely,” Jacob affirmed. “Not that it’s a bad thing, I suppose. Her theories were interesting. Strange, but interesting.”

“Enough with this love fest between us. Let’s talk more on this later. I want to go to Hogsmeade. You two come with me.” Helena got up and stretched. “I want some sweets. Race you two!”

She dashed off, with Jacob running after her, shouting that she’d cheated. Teddy ran after them, his book in hand, and he decided he’d just have fun with these two now and think about Neville later. He had time, after all.

Teddy felt like an idiot.

He watched the closed doors to Neville’s office, shifting his feet. He’d stayed there for the last fifteen minutes, wishing he’d brought that letter with him so he could have just easily slipped it under that door.

“I should have just endured Helena’s screeching lecture and just went about it my own way,” he muttered to himself, thinking back to the conversation he had with his two friends earlier. He and Helena and Jacob were technically no longer Hogwarts students as of this afternoon, but they were spending one final night here before they all separated tomorrow.

Teddy took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He’d told his friends that he had a plan, a simple plan consisting of him confessing his love to Neville. In a letter.

He regretted telling them his plan. Helena had balked at the idea, claiming that it was very impersonal and a coward thing to do. In fact, her exact words were, “I know you and I are the intelligent Slytherins, and we like to tackle stuff seamlessly and quietly, but I know you’ve got some of that Gryffindor traits in you. Find it, grab their bollocks, and go tell Professor Longbottom in person!”

Even Jacob had agreed with her. Damn him for being so diplomatic about it, too, with his, “She’s right, you know. She and I both say go tell him in person. You’re the one who wants to send him a love confession on a parchment. That’s two against one. Majority rules in this case.”

“Traitors, the lot of them!” Teddy continued to mumble to himself.

He groaned, hearing Helena’s waspish voice in his brain again. He clearly heard her, “Knock on that door, you idiot! Now!”

Teddy stepped closer to the door, raised his shaking hand, and knocked.

“Come in,” Neville’s pleasant voice rang out; the deep tone made Teddy’s stomach do flip-flops. He realised then that it had been ages since he’d last came to visit Neville, and he wished he hadn’t been so stupid to forgo his Saturdays like that. Forcing himself to stay away from Neville had caused Teddy to miss him more.

Teddy entered, and he saw Neville’s expression, a mixture of surprise and something else. Expectant? Was Neville expecting him?

Neville’s face transformed, displaying his gentle, familiar smile. Standing up, he gestured at the chair in front of his desk. “Have a seat. Do you want some tea? Juice?”

This all felt familiar and comforting, but that didn’t ease his nervousness at all. Teddy shook his head and stuffed his hands into his pocket before saying, “I’m only here for a bit. I just want to tell you something.”

“Oh?” One of Neville’s eyebrows quirked up, and Teddy had to clench his fists, preventing one or both of them from reaching out. He couldn’t allow his hands to touch Neville. He knew if they touched Neville, they would never stop.

Teddy mentally slapped himself. He had to do this. He wanted to do this, wanting no regrets or having questions about all the “what-ifs”. Taking a deep breath, he whispered, “I like you.”

Neville blinked. “I like you, too, Teddy.”

“No!” Teddy lowered his voice. “I mean, I like you, Neville. I’ve liked you for a while, probably for a long time, but I didn’t realise it until . . . ” He bit his lips, realising it wouldn’t be a good idea to mention his accidental voyeurism at Hogsmeade.

“That day in Hogsmeade. You saw me and my lover then.” Neville’s calm statement was just that, a statement, not a question. “You also stopped our Saturday get-togethers.”

Teddy gaped at him. He’d imagined all sorts of conversations from the result of his confession, but this scenario had never occurred in his head. “I . . . how’d you know?”

“Teddy,” Neville sighed. “I thought about this, and only two things came into my mind. One was that I did something to upset you. I wasn’t certain what I might have done, but I must have done something to make you uncomfortable with me. The other possibility was that you’ve developed a crush on me, and that made you uncomfortable instead. With you here, visiting me on your final night instead of out partying with your friends, I figured the second possibility was the most logical.”

Once again, Teddy felt like an idiot, but he hurried onto his next question, figuring he had nothing to lose. “How do you feel about me?”

Neville was quiet for a moment before he answered. “Teddy, I’ve known you since you were a child. You’ve grown up to become a fine wizard, and I admit you’re very easy on the eyes, but . . . ”

“Don’t say it. Don’t say I’m too young and don’t know any better.”

“Teddy, have you even been with anybody?”

“Well, no, but . . . ”

“I don’t want you to mistake your affection towards me.”

“It’s not a mistake!” Teddy felt his hair changing colour. He knew, without looking, it was fiery red right now. He pursed his lips and breathed hard through his nose as he tried to calm down. In a softer voice, he said, “It’s not a mistake, nor am I confused. I know what I want, and I know my feelings well to know that I really do like you. That day, when I saw you in Hogsmeade, I was jealous of that guy. I was wishing I was in his place instead of him. I . . . I’m no longer your student. I’m of age, and I know what I want. I want you.”

Neville stayed quiet, his usually warm brown eyes were void of any emotion, but Teddy saw it. A tiny glint of emotion. He wasn’t sure exactly what that glint was, but his instincts told him it was something akin to desire and astonishment.

It was enough to give Teddy courage to say, “Kiss me, please. Kiss me. I want to . . . I want to try it with you.”

Neville’s eyes narrowed. “You know I can have my wards kick you out?”

Teddy nodded and declared, “But you won’t.” Again, following his instinct, he stepped around Neville’s desk and stopped in front of Neville. Teddy could feel Neville’s warmth, and it made him feel warm, his palms beginning to sweat. He took his hands out and reached out to tilt Neville’s head slightly. In the last couple of years, Teddy had outgrown Neville by a couple of inches. Their eyes met, and this time Teddy didn’t miss the glint of suppressed desire.

Click on the image for the larger version. Fanart by Vividescent.

Slowly, Teddy moved closer, angling his head slightly. He could feel Neville’s hot breath against his cheeks, and he stilled when only mere centimetres separated them. Teddy waited, wondering if Neville would push away or punch Teddy’s noggin hard.

Neville did neither. Who made the next move, Teddy wasn’t sure, but the gap between them closed and lips met each other. Neither moved, just two lips pressed against each other, both chapped but warm. The light pressure didn’t give Teddy the spark he sought, so he was about to break it off, disappointed, but then Neville slightly parted his lips, and Teddy parted his, too. Their tongues, both hot and wet, encountered then, and that was when Teddy felt that delicious, powerful, and mind-blowing zing.

Blood rushed through Teddy’s body, and he had a sensory overload as he tasted, smelled, and touched the man he’d been wanting for ages. All those dreams of him kissing and touching Neville were nothing compared to the actual real thing right this moment. He intensified the kiss, his tongue reaching deeper into Neville’s sensual mouth. His hands, originally around Neville’s hips, began to move and dance all over Neville’s broad back and shoulders. While his mouth and his hands busied themselves, he pressed his whole body against Neville’s, loving the hardness of a man’s body and discovering just how wonderful Neville fit in his embrace.

Teddy wanted someone to freeze them, desperately wishing he could always savour this exact moment, but his longing went unanswered as Neville gently broke the kiss and stepped back as he panted lightly.

Panting himself, Teddy could feel disappointment growing inside of him. He struggled to keep his face neutral. “You didn’t like it, right?”

Neville shook his head. “On the contrary,” he said softly, reaching out to place a hand on Teddy’s shoulder, “it was quite nice.”

“Nice?” Teddy echoed. “Nice? It was beyond nice! I . . . kissing you was brilliant! It was so much different, so much better, so much . . . way better than kissing Helena!”

“Helena?” Neville started to laugh. “I see.”

Teddy wasn’t sure what made him say his next statement, but he did. He grabbed Neville’s shoulder and looked at him fiercely. “You enjoyed it. You felt that zing, too.”

“Zing? Is that what the younger crowds call it now?”

Teddy, embarrassed by his choice of word, ducked his head, blushing hard to match his hair colour. “Well, yes, zing. I blame my grandmother’s secret stash of romance novels. I think that’s where I picked up that word–”

Neville’s hand went through Teddy’s hair, and that calmed Teddy down. His fingers, so long and big and protective trailed down to touch Teddy’s cheek. His voice gentle, he said, “I felt it, too. That spark. I’ve been with a few partners now, but kissing you, I felt that connection. Kissing you is different from the others.”

Teddy’s eyes brightened, and his hair changed to turquoise while his face still remained red. “Does that mean–” He couldn’t continue it. Instead, he gave Neville a hopeful look.

“Well . . . ” Neville’s hesitation caused Teddy’s stomach to plunge unpleasantly. “Teddy, I do like you, and I am attracted to you. However, I don’t know if it’d be a good idea to start up a relationship with you so quickly.”

“I see,” Teddy said slowly. He heard the unsaid words. He knew Neville thought he was too young, not ready to get into a relationship with someone seventeen years older. He still had some growing up to do in Neville’s eyes. He’d matured from a little child to a man now. He’d gone through many changes that were physical and concrete or mental and abstract. He’d evolved, and he wasn’t finished. Neither was Neville, nor anybody else. Evolution was everywhere, inevitable and inescapable, but it could be manipulated, and that was exactly what Teddy planned to do. After all, he was a Slytherin.

Neville looked at him warily. “You’re smiling. Rather dangerously. Should I worry?”

Teddy shook his head. “No, I plan to woo you.”

“You are?”

“Yeah. I agree we should take this slow. You know I’ve taken up an apprenticeship to become a Potions master? I’ll be doing that with Professor Slughorn. That means I’ll be in Hogwarts a lot. That also means . . . ”

Neville chuckled. “I can’t get rid of you that easily, right?”

“Right.”

“Okay, get that mastery first, and then we’ll take the next step.”

“Wait, what?” Teddy glared, wondering if he’d just been outwitted by Neville, a Gryffindor of all people. “That might take a couple of years!”

Neville just laughed again. “We’re wizards. We’ve got a pretty long lifespan, so why are you going to let two or three years hinder your goal?”

“When you put it that way . . . ” Teddy rolled his eyes. “Oh, fine! It’s obvious I can’t win with you!”

Neville responded with a soft kiss to Teddy’s cheek. “Glad you realised that. Now, do me a favour? Go out and party with your friends. You don’t need to hole yourself up in here with me when your friends are leaving tomorrow.”

“Can I have another one of those ‘zinger-fied’ kisses? On the mouth?” Teddy couldn’t help asking.

“Fine, fine. But after that, I’ll kick you out. I need to go water Maurice and Alec, and I’ll have to make sure Clive is recovering from a burn one of the first year students caused, all right?”

“All right.” And Teddy puckered up one last time for the night.

Now that he had hope, he would use it to his advantage. And his next goal was to convince Neville to take the next step sooner than later by asking Helena and Jacob to come up with a plan — never mind that their plans had a tendency to work or backfire or both.

Teddy was ready for anything.

Harry!

— Gred and Forge

As the powerful stench of garlic invaded his nostrils, Harry took trepid steps into the dangerous room known as the WTTR — Weasley Twins’ Testing Room — or the “Lair” as the twins fondly called it. Whatever they called it, it was a room no sane human — Muggle or magical — would enter. That was especially true for vampires or anybody allergic to garlic.

Harry watched Fred and George mumble to each other, and he cautiously peered into an open box, curious to see what their latest new product was.

Well, he didn’t exactly see a product, per se, but he did see a ton of garlic, all peeled and proudly displaying its pale, yellow-coloured exterior. He reeled back from their familiar scent; he could practically taste the garlic.

“Oh, hello, Harry!” Fred cheerfully said.

“Real glad you could come, mate!” George added.

“What . . . what are you making here?” Harry managed to wheeze out. He was starting to feel light-headed, and oddly enough, he began to crave garlic bread of all things.

George pulled out something, and it took Harry few minutes to figure out what it was. “What do you think?” George asked.

“It’s . . . it’s a bra, right?”

“Yes,” Fred answered.

“Made out of garlic.” He stared at the bra, stared at the breast covering and the straps, all made with garlic.

George nodded eagerly. He dangled the bra closer to Harry. “The cloves are magically attached to each other, and it took ages for us to figure out how to make it flexible so that once someone puts the strap on, it will magically clasp itself in the back. It will automatically adjust to fit any breast size.

“And,” Fred continued, “this is our other design. For the kinkier folks.”

Harry ogled the second design. The garlic cloves were put together to form an outline of the bra, and in the centre of each breast covering part — he had no idea what the proper term was — there was a single clove of garlic there, obviously meant to cover the nipples. Otherwise, the breasts would be fully exposed if it was worn. He coughed. “Well, it’s certainly . . . kinky? But what’s with this fascination with garlic?”

“You know how we went to South Korea to see if we could expand our business there?” Fred explained. “Well, we discovered that the Koreans there are absolute fanatics for garlic in their cuisines. Everything they make–”

“–garlic is always included,” George piped in. “In fact, one of our potential business partners joked that South Korea is one country vampires would never visit because of all their garlic. That’s when we had this idea . . . ”

” . . . to make garlic undergarments!” Fred finished with a beaming smile.

Harry’s mouth dropped opened. “I guess it’s a creative idea, but how is this going to appeal to the public?”

“It will. Especially when we finish the Speedo-style pants. This will be perfect for those who want to ward off unwanted advances,” George spoke as he jotted something down on his notebook.

“And if they want the advances, all they have to do is say ‘Allium sativum’ — that’s the Muggle scientific name for garlic, mind you — and it will change to chocolate, which is perfect since we all know chocolate is a delicious aphrodisiac!” Fred clapped his hands once. “Now, we’d like you to test this product for us.”

“Excuse me?” Harry couldn’t keep the disbelief out of his voice. “Test it?”

Fred and George both nodded with evil, identical smiles. George summoned something, and he promptly gave it to Harry. “As our silent partner, you have the honour of getting the first garlic boxers from our store. Thankfully, we know your lover likes both garlic and chocolate.”

Flushing, Harry felt warmth in his cheeks and his ears. “Well, I suppose Neville likes both, but–”

“No buts!” Fred began to push Harry out the door. “We won’t accept your refusal. Just try it out and let us know how it goes. And don’t worry. We’ve charmed it so the garlic won’t be so spicy that it hurts your privates or wherever it touches!”

“Good to know,” Harry muttered as he walked out the door.

“Let us know in twenty-four hours how it went!”

Not sure and not caring who said that last bit, Harry Apparated to his flat — the one he shared with Neville — in a daze.

The Quibbler
Special Edition #10 — March 2001

Endorsed by war heroes, Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom, these products have gained quick popularity. We at The Quibbler theorised that the Nargles and the Crumpled-Horned Snorkacks also like these products, and they are affecting the wizarding society’s sexual behaviours, making wizards and witches of all ages enjoy these unique bits of paraphernalia.

If you haven’t tried these ingenious undergarments, we highly recommend it. Perfect for those who love garlic and chocolate, and excellent for those who wish to ensure no vampires will sneak into their bed as they sleep.

James flopped down on the sofa and buried his face in a pillow, attempting to drown out the grating, screeching noise that sounded far too much like a cat’s claw scratching down a window. He knew it wasn’t really that, but it certainly sounded like it whenever Scorpius hit a rather high note on that cello! “Scorpius, please! Give it a rest! My ears are bleeding!”

“I’ve only played for five minutes!” Scorpius retorted, dragging the bow across the strings, making James cringe from the sound. “I need to get acquainted with this. It’s a Stradivarius, you know. Father spent a lot on this for my birthday, so I can’t just let it sit and collect dust.”

“I don’t care what-a-varius it is! All I know is that I don’t like that brand, no matter how prestigious or famous, because all the silencing charms in the world doesn’t work on that wooden giant! It sounds terrible whenever you hit the high note.” James hesitated and then admitted, “You sound okay for the rest though.”

“This is a new piece I’m practising. Once I master it, it won’t sound this bad. As much as I hate to admit it, I’m not that talented to learn a piece in one sitting!”

“All right, all right.” James sulked and muttered, “I don’t understand why you love a cello that much.”

Scorpius stilled and gave James a serious look. “Have you ever played a cello?”

“No, but Albus did try to learn the violin once. Those two weeks were hell on my ears.”

“So he didn’t get very far then.” Scorpius looked thoughtful, which soon turned into a smirk.

James narrowed his own eyes. He knew that smirk. Scorpius might be a Hufflepuff, but he still had many Slytherin tendencies, and James recognised a Slytherin plot easily since he lived many years with another Slytherin — his brother.

“Here,” Scorpius said, standing up, still holding onto the cello. “Come and sit here.”

“Huh? You want me to play? I can’t play, and I really don’t want to accidentally ruin that Vladimus or whatever cello.”

“Just come. You won’t really be playing.”

James shrugged and did as Scorpius requested. “Okay, I’m sitting here. Now what?”

Scorpius put the cello in between James’ legs. “Do you know what a vibrato is?”

“Don’t a lot of opera singers do that with their voice?”

“Yes, and so do a lot of instrumentalists.” Scorpius stood behind James and reached around to position the bow and his other hand on the instrument. He slowly dragged the bow, making a note, and his left finger at the top moved in that spot, creating a beautiful sounding vibrato.

James gasped. Not only could he hear the vibrato, but he could feel it very, very intimately since the body of the instrument was more or less pressing against his crotch. Scorpius did it again, and the second round of vibrations against his groin felt so good. It wasn’t enough to get him off, but it was enough to drive him slowly mad with desire. Scorpius wasn’t being merciful; he kept on playing the low notes, kept the vibrations strong, and it wasn’t long before James’ pants became constrained and his breathing became ragged.

“You feel that?” Scorpius stopped the vibration, and James immediately felt its loss, wishing it was still pulsating against him. “Now you see why I like the cello?”

“Yes,” James managed to say in a strangled voice. “Now I can see that you’re a bloody pervert!”

Scorpius grinned. “Well, I’m not the one turned on by a vibrating cello in between my legs.”

“Shut up,” James growled out. Scorpius made the cello vibrate once more. “Stop that!”

“I don’t think so. I think you like this. If I stop now, I don’t think you’ll be pleased.”

James hated it when Scorpius played dirty like this, yet if Scorpius wanted dirty, then James would act the same. “Fine. But you’re going to be the one explaining how your expensive Strabismus cello got stained in the back to your father. Not me. Granted, I am wearing clothes, so it might not get stained, but it’s up to you to take that risk.”

Scorpius froze, and James held back his laughter, watching Scorpius move the cello off to the side. “Great,” James said brightly. “Now, fix this little problem you’ve caused.”

There was a gleam in Scorpius’ eyes, making James be on his guard. Scorpius got up and went to get something from the bedroom. James gaped at the humongous red and yellow, penis-shaped vibrator. He swallowed and said, “No way.”

Scorpius shrugged. “Hey, you’re the one who made a good point about the cello possibly getting damaged, so I’ve opted to use something else that vibrates.”

“Bloody fucking hell,” James moaned.

“Oh, yes. And when we’re done, I’m going to compose a concerto called ‘A Covetous Concerto’, and it will be dedicated to you.”

“Great, just great,” James complained. But even though he complained, he really didn’t mind. Whether Scorpius composed a song or kissed him, James didn’t care as long as Scorpius never used the cello like that again!

Bomp bomp bomp ba-ba bomp bomp bomp!

Percy awoke to the sound of elephants taking over his room. Or least it sounded like elephants. Or maybe a brass band. He couldn’t quite think clearly. Rubbing his eyes and putting his glasses on, he sat up, making the blanket puddle around his groin. The source of the noise was coming from somewhere in the flat, and he wasn’t quite brash enough to go around nude. He grabbed the dressing gown from the floor, slipped it on, and left the bedroom.

The bomp bomp bomp sounded louder out in the sitting room, but it was empty. He turned and walked towards the direction of the noise, which sounded like it came from one of the other rooms. The door was closed, so he knocked on it, but he didn’t hear any response. Just the bomp bomp bomp, which sounded suspiciously like “Jingle Bells”.

He stifled back a groan. It was already mid-December, and he was really getting sick and tired of the Christmas carols blasting all around him. It was bad enough he had to hear the dreaded tunes constantly at work, but must the songs haunt him during his personal time, too?

Quietly, he opened the door a crack, and he peered in, where he saw his lover — Kingsley Shacklebolt — playing, of all things, a tuba. Percy blinked, staring at the tuba, a silver tuba that was huge. At least it made Percy feel small. Next to Kingsley, that tuba didn’t look so enormous. And most surprisingly of all, Kingsley didn’t look quite silly playing that instrument. Kingsley long arms were wrapped around the monstrosity, which rested on his strong, pyjamas-covered thighs, and his elegant fingers were pushing down the valves. Just last night, those fingers had been dancing a tune over Percy’s body.

Percy felt his cheeks turning warm. He turned his gaze away from those fingers and looked at Kingsley’s face. He first noticed the earring, which wasn’t gold at the moment and currently matched the tuba’s colouring, but it was Kingsley’s cheeks that attracted his attention more. They weren’t puffed out like most wind instrumentalists he knew. The cheeks were sunken in, just like whenever Kingsley sucked him, and Percy moaned at that image, suddenly wishing he was the tuba in Kingsley’s lap.

The bomp bomp bomp suddenly stopped, and Percy felt Kingsley’s smouldering gaze on him. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt–”

“Did my playing arouse you that much?” Kingsley eyes were on his groin, which had a very tented appearance.

Percy flushed harder, trying not to run off. “I, er, didn’t know you played the tuba,” he stammered, pushing his glasses up.

“I used to a lot, but I haven’t had the time lately to play it. But I had this urge to play today, so I got it out to practise. Sorry if I woke you.”

“Oh, it’s okay!” Percy gestured at Kingsley to keep playing. “It sounds very good. You have a good tone! It . . . it matches your voice!” He nearly grimaced at that idiotic sounding phrase. What he meant to say was that the tuba’s deep tone reminded him of Kingsley’s sensual, deep voice.

Kingsley cocked his head to the side and then smirked. He set the tuba off to his side, and he patted his lap. “Come here.”

“Wha–?” Percy automatically obeyed and walked over. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but being pulled down into Kingsley’s warm lap was not what he’d expected. Not that he was complaining. No, sir, not when he was crushed into a powerful kiss that made him whimper, nor when a large hand cusped his arse and another slipped into his dressing gown to touch him there.

“It’s time to blow a different horn and practise a different etude. And this enticing etude is definitely more preferable than scales and other exercises.” Kingsley whispered after breaking the kiss.

And Percy really couldn’t disagree — not that he’d ever agree “Jingle Bells” was a good etude — but this — Kingsley touching in all the right places — was infinitely better than any Christmas songs or the elephant march he heard earlier.

Sirius scowled at James, who at the moment was too busy laughing his head off to even notice the angry look.

“James? Shut it! I swear, mate, your laugh is like a bloody foghorn!”

“Sorry, sorry,” James said, still laughing, his upper body bent over as he heaved for breath. “It’s just that . . . I can’t see you playing the piano, ever! Wearing all those poncy looking dress robes at recitals . . . that’s just fucking brilliant. I bet you looked like a right stiff in those!”

“The dress robes were not poncy looking!”

“Don’t lie! I’ve seen your dress robes before, the ones your mum made you wear. They were quite horrid, with all those frills, so I’m imagining the recital ones to be even worse!”

Sirius groaned and banged his head on the closed cover of the piano keys, ignoring his pounding headache and wondering why he was an idiot to tell James about his piano skills. He hadn’t meant to tell James this. In fact, he’d never wanted to tell any of his friends, but it’d just accidentally come out when he and James had discovered a rather dusty and neglected piano in the back of the Potter family’s house.

As James continued to laugh like a twit, Sirius took a seat on the hard, cold bench and turned his glare at the piano. It was a grand piano, black, looking forlorn and unused, but he could see that it was majestic back in the day when it was still being played. The upright piano at his former home was nothing compared to this beauty in front of him. It just needed some cleaning to be grand once more.

Wordlessly, he lifted the cover up, and he stared at the ivory keys, impressed that they hadn’t yellowed with age, and the black keys that punctuated the overall appearance. He glided his fingers over the smooth and cold keys, and he mentally began to hum a song, a Beethoven sonata he loved, and he could see the notes arrange themselves in front of him as his fingers moved on their own to their starting positions. His right foot found the pedal it automatically sought out, and he began to play.

He could no longer hear James’ loud laughter; he only heard the song that was coming from the piano, the song he was playing from memory and from his heart. Yes, he’d always hated those recital outfits, and he didn’t want to admit he could play since it was something his parents had forced him into, but despite everything, he loved the piano. It was an outlet for him and it was something that allowed him to be him.

When he came to the end of the song, he stilled his hands, his fingers still curved, and he opened his eyes. He glanced at James, whose mouth was opened wide, whose eyes were large behind his spectacles.

Sirius broke the silence. “Well?”

James closed his mouth and a slow smirk came onto his lips. “Well, poncy or not, I’m impressed!”

“Only impressed?” Sirius raised his eyebrow, moved the bench back a bit, and pulled James in front of him. He tugged James’ head close to his and said, “How about I show you another use for a piano . . . which will leave you not only impressed, but it will be a concerto for you to remember?”

“You seem too cocky about that,” James quipped back.

“Cocky? Why, Prongs, my boy, that’s an excellent choice of word.” Sirius moved until only a hair separated his and James’ lips. “An excellent choice.”

“Well, Padfoot, will you just fucking snog me already?”

Sirius pushed James back, ignoring the loud cacophony James’ arse made on the key. “I will, but I want to hear you serenade me . . . with your arse. And then I want you to give me a wonderful cantata of how much you worship me when I suck that gorgeous cock of yours.”

He heard James’ breath hitch. “Fine, Sirius, fine. If it’s a sexy symphony you want, then I’ll give you one hell of a show.”

1979 — Horcrux Cave

Surrounded by the darkness, Regulus gasped out, “Lumos”. His throat burned him in ways he never imagined possible. His insides hurt him, making him feel like he had thousands of knives stuck in him. Stumbling, he focused his dry and itchy eyes to seek out the boat he had to get to, but he didn’t see any boat. Instead, he fell to the ground, and he half-crawled and half-dragged himself forward as he shut his eyes in vain to keep the terrible visions from affecting him. Along with the visions, memories of his past came swarming in pieces, and he groaned loudly as he buried his face into the wet earth.

“Sirius . . . ”

1965 — 12 Grimmauld Place

“Siri!” Regulus whispered.

“What are you doing here?” Sirius asked, just as another peal of thunder exploded outside their house.

Jumping in fright, Regulus covered his mouth, his eyes wide, as he crept towards Sirius’ bed. When he was close, he asked, “Can I sleep with you? I don’t like the scary noises.”

“You know Mother doesn’t like this. She says we’re pure-blood wizards, so we have to be proud, noble, and strong!”

Regulus whimpered, “Just one more time? Just now? Please, Siri?”

“Why don’t you go to Kreacher?”

“I want to stay with you. Please, Siri?” Regulus implored again.

“Oh, fine,” Sirius said, rolling his eyes and moving over for Regulus to slide in. Happily, Regulus slipped into the warm bed, and he felt protected with his big, strong brother next to him. Snuggling next to Sirius’ side, he said, “Night, Siri.”

“Night, Reg. Just wake up when I tell you to so you can go back to your room! Let’s not upset Mother tomorrow morning.”

“I will,” Regulus answered in a sleepy voice.

1967 — 12 Grimmauld Place

“Are you sure you can do this?” Sirius whispered.

Regulus bobbed his head vigorously. “I can do this, Sirius. I can. I’ll make you proud.” He smiled widely, and he tucked the prank item into his pocket. “I can’t wait to try this on Cissy!”

Sirius and Regulus shared one last conspiratorial look before they walked into the small but majestic looking dining room for the weekly dinner with their relatives. Regulus avoided looking at Narcissa, but he did greet his aunts and uncles politely. As he took a seat, he breathed out in relief that Bellatrix was at Hogwarts instead of here. Without her scary presence, Regulus felt comfortable enough to pull this prank on Narcissa.

It wasn’t long before a huge screech was heard all over 12 Grimmauld Place, and Regulus couldn’t help but snigger at the image of his cousin looking like a drowned, greasy rat. The old bucket trick with water and oil was simple but effective. Plus, her long locks looked like a rainbow, but, unfortunately, there was no pot of gold at its end. A simple serum from Zonko’s had done the trick, and Regulus was pleased that he’d managed to sneak some of it onto her plate of food . . . with the help of Kreacher!

For the first time ever, his parents knew that this prank wasn’t one of Sirius’. In fact, they immediately knew it was him — most likely because of Regulus’ poor attempt to hide his amusement — and he suffered one of the worst beatings he’d ever gone through in his life.

He didn’t mind, though. When Sirius came to check up on him, he’d slugged Regulus’ sore shoulder and said, “Good job, little brother. You’ve managed to outdo me with Cissy. You’ve definitely made me proud.”

Regulus gave Sirius a beaming smile. “Let’s do another prank! This time on Dromeda when she comes back for the holidays.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, but his eyes twinkled with mirth. “You sure? Well, Dromeda’s nothing like Bella and Cissy. I think she likes our pranks.”

Nodding eagerly, Regulus gingerly moved over on his bed to give Sirius some room. When he felt the bed dip with his brother’s familiar and comforting weight, he exclaimed, “Yeah! Let’s do something brilliant with Dromeda!”

1969 — 12 Grimmauld Place

Regulus backed up against the wall, and he struggled to hide his fear from Sirius. He’d never seen his brother this angry before. “I didn’t tell them!”

He watched Sirius’ scowl deepened, watched the way his brother’s grey eyes lit up with fierce rage. “Then how did Mother and Father find out about my friendship with David?”

“I don’t know!”

“You told them! After you promised not to tell!”

“I . . . I didn’t!” Regulus spat out. “They probably found out by themselves!” Now he was angry with Sirius’ accusations, and he yelled, “It’s your fault for being friends with that Muggle! Why can’t you just have friends who are like us?”

“Like us?” Sounding disgusted, Sirius continued, “You’re just like them. You–! And I thought you’d believe differently from them.” Spinning around, he stomped up to his room.

“Blast . . . ” Regulus sank to the ground, giving relief to his shaky legs. Tears came to his eyes, and he hastily wiped them away. He hadn’t meant to say that to Sirius. He wanted to support Sirius, but he also wanted to support his parents. He’d never wanted to choose sides.

Now, though, it looked like he had to choose.

1971 — 12 Grimmauld Place

Regulus watched his parents eat their breakfast with sour looks. It was the second of September, and his parents were in dour moods because they hadn’t heard from Sirius yet.

“If he doesn’t send an owl today, I’m sending him a Howler. How dare does he make us worry like this?” Walburga set her fork down hard enough that the table shook.

Orion grunted in agreement.

Regulus remained silent, knowing it wasn’t wise to say anything now since his mother’s rage might turn towards him.

Just then, an owl fluttered in, and all three of them looked at it. Regulus blinked at the tawny owl. It wasn’t Sirius’. Instead, it belonged to Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Druella.

Walburga quickly grabbed parchment, and Regulus watched as his mother’s curious expression transformed into disbelief and anger. Her fingers gripped the parchment until it began to wrinkle. “I don’t believe it!”

Orion looked at her warily. “What does it say?”

“Narcissa owled my brother and Druella with some news. According to Narcissa. Sirius has been sorted into Gryffindor!” Spittle sprayed the parchment, and Regulus could imagine smoke coming out of her nostrils. “How . . . how dare he?! How dare he bring disgrace to our name?” She turned and glared at Orion. “It’s all your fault! You’ve been too easy on him over the years!”

“My fault?” Orion snapped back, now slamming his own utensils down on the table, making the poor table rattle once more. “If anything, it’s your fault for acting like a harpy! Sirius is independent, like his father. You shouldn’t have tried so hard. It only pushed him away!”

As his parents shouted at each other, Regulus shrank down in his chair until he was almost off of it. He tried his best to tune the noises out, and he thought about Sirius’ sorting. With the way his brother had been acting lately, he should have seen this coming. In a way, it made perfect sense for his brother to be sorted into the house with the blood traitors, and he grew angry at how Sirius’ betrayal was causing more trouble between their parents.

By the time his parents had calmed down, Regulus had made a vow. He’d made a vow to not follow his brother’s path. After all, someone had to maintain the Black family’s reputation, and he was the only one left to do so.

He couldn’t help but feel a pang inside of him. Doing what his parents wanted would mean he and Sirius would never get along. Like that time when Sirius had accused him of telling their parents about David, Regulus was once more obligated to choose a side. Now, with certainty, Regulus finally made his choice.

1972 — Hogwarts

“Slytherin!”

Regulus jumped off the stool, after taking the hat off, and walked over to his cheering house-mates. He’d done it. He’d fulfilled his duties, and he was in Slytherin. Just like a real Black was supposed to do. Taking a seat, he glanced over at the Gryffindor table. Its occupants were quiet, and most of them had an apathetic expression; some wore sneers. But it was Sirius’ face he saw. His brother’s face was a picture of disgust, and Regulus felt his insides churn unpleasantly.

He knew this day was coming. Now that it had come, Regulus didn’t enjoy it as much as he thought he would. Instead, he knew that whatever chance he’d had to get on his brother’s good side was now gone.

However, he didn’t want his brother to know that. He didn’t want to appear weak to Sirius. So he sneered at his brother, and he then turned to his house-mates and accepted them as his new “family”.

1973 — Hogwarts

“You all right, Reg? Your skin’s our house colour . . . and I don’t mean silver.”

Regulus took a deep breath as he fought down his nausea. He forced a smile at Barty, his new best friend. Barty was only a first year, and even though Regulus was older, he and Barty clicked instantly when the former was sorted into Slytherin. Since their first night together, the two had been inseparable. “I’m fine. Just nervous.”

“Don’t be. You’re a good flyer, and you’ve been practising almost every day, so you’ll make the team! And with you on the team, we’ll beat the other houses in Quidditch! Your Seeker skills will be unrivalled!”

Regulus tried not to blush from Barty’s praises. Luckily, he was distracted when they bumped into Sirius and his friends.

Regulus watched Sirius’ grey eyes glance at the broom he was carrying.

“Trying out for Quidditch, are you?” Sirius drawled, as he smirked.

Tensing up, Regulus’ nausea was replaced with something akin to anger. “Yes,” he answered testily.

“So my ickle, little brother thinks he’ll be the new Seeker to bring the Slytherin team fame and glory, huh?” Sirius and James laughed while Remus and Peter stayed quiet.

“Oh, yeah. Too bad I’m not a Beater. Otherwise, I’d love the chance to smash a Bludger or two into your brother’s face . . . if he makes the team that is,” James said.

Infuriated, Regulus grabbed Barty’s wrist, and they edged around the group and dashed out to the Quidditch pitch. His brother’s scornful laughter rang in his head, and he determinedly said, “I’ll show him! And that Potter prat! I’ll show them that they should never mock us Slytherins.”

Barty nodded. “You can do it, Reg. I know you can.”

“I will!”

When his turn came, Regulus channelled his anger into energy and determination. He flew faster and better than before, and his sharp eyes flickered back and forth as he looked for the golden glint of the Snitch.

And he did it. He made the team, and he vowed to play his best and beat those Gryffindor pricks in every game he played against them.

1974 — Hogwarts

“I can’t wait until I’m in third year,” Barty said. “Then we could have fun in Hogsmeade together.”

Regulus grinned as he passed over some sweets he’d bought at Honeydukes. “Yeah. Then I won’t have to buy stuff for you and carry it. You can buy and carry your own stuff when we go next year,” he teased, but he didn’t mind. Barty was his best friend. He’d do anything for him.

They reached the lake’s dock and sat at the edge, letting their legs dangle above the murky waters. They ate their sweets in silence. After a few minutes of peace, in hushed tones, Barty said, “I’ve heard the older students talking about the Dark Lord.”

“You mean Lord Voldemort?” Regulus said quietly. “Yeah, I’ve heard about him.”

“What do you think of him?”

Pausing, Regulus sorted out what he knew of Lord Voldemort. He didn’t know much. He only knew that Lord Voldemort valued blood purity, and he’d heard rumours about Lord Voldemort wanting to get rid of Mudbloods and half-bloods from the wizarding world. He also heard of Lord Voldemort’s power, and he found himself attracted to all of it. He was especially attracted to the ideas of traditional principles and values. Things were changing too fast in the wizarding society. Muggle-borns were bringing their odd items into Hogwarts and changing what it meant to be a wizard. Lord Voldemort would surely put a stop to all that. “He fascinates me.”

“Me too. Nott told me about the Death Eaters. Would you ever join them?”

Regulus had heard about them as well. He’d heard about them because of Bellatrix. With Andromeda now not a part of the Black family because of that Mudblood she married, Bellatrix and Narcissa were the cousins he saw the most. Over the summer, he’d heard about Bellatrix praising Lord Voldemort. She’d joined the Death Eater, and she told him a lot about the group, and Regulus found himself wanting to join, too. “Bella told me about it a bit. I think I’d like to join. I can tell Bella we’re interested . . . do you want me to?”

Barty nodded eagerly, and Regulus’ enthusiasm grew. “Great!” Regulus exclaimed. “I’ll tell her. Maybe we can join and be the youngest Death Eaters ever. Wouldn’t that be something?”

“Yeah! After all, we’re Slytherin. We’re pure-bloods. We’ve got to show those Mudbloods and those half-bloods who are the rightful wizards and witches.”

“I’ll owl her tonight. In the meantime, pass me another Chocolate Frog.”

1975 — The Hog’s Head

“Bella . . . is this really a good idea?” Regulus asked, peering over her shoulders to make sure nobody spotted them in the alleyway.

“Shut up!” Bellatrix hissed. “Let me cast a Disillusionment Charm on you two, so I can take you boys into the Hog’s Head.”

Regulus and Barty glanced at each other and remained quiet as Bellatrix cast the charm. She then led the way to the Hog’s Head, and they entered with no problems. They followed her to a dark corner, and there they met Lord Voldemort for the first time. Regulus’ breath hitched when Lord Voldemort stood up to greet them.

Lord Voldemort was tall. Not that Regulus was short, but Lord Voldemort just felt taller. He could feel power emanating from the man, and it felt tangible. He looked at Lord Voldemort’s face. It was a handsome face, with a smile that showed dimples and straight, white teeth. Lord Voldemort really was good looking, and Regulus felt attracted to him.

When he looked into Lord Voldemort’s dark brown eyes, he could see intelligence and cunningness lingering there. And when Lord Voldemort first spoke, his deep voice resonated in ways that sent shivers of lust down Regulus’ back.

“You must be Regulus and Barty,” Lord Voldemort said with a pleased smile. “I’m always happy to meet members of my former house. Let’s sit down.”

With awe, Regulus sat, and for the next hour or so, he could barely concentrate on what Lord Voldemort was saying. All Regulus knew was that he was going to join the Death Eaters as soon as possible. This, he thought, was his destiny. He’d be happy to serve someone this magnificent and powerful. Who needed half-bloods like Dumbledore? No, he’d follow this pure-blooded wizard to all ends of time.

1976 — Hogwarts

Regulus backed up against the wall, and he cursed to himself. Defiantly, he glared back at Crabbe and Goyle. They were Beaters on the Slytherin team. They’d just lost a game yesterday, and they were blaming Regulus.

“How could you let Prewett get that Snitch? Are you blind?” Crabbe demanded.

Regulus turned red at the accusation. He didn’t mean to let the Gryffindor Seeker get to the Snitch before him, but he did, and he felt regretful about it, but these two were making it sound like Regulus had done this on purpose. “Back off and leave me alone. Why didn’t you two smash that Bludger towards him? I bet you two couldn’t hit a bloody dragon with that kind of aim.”

“Shut up! You’re asking for a beating, and we’ll give it to you!” Goyle thundered, raising his fist. But before he could swing it, a deep voice rang out.

“What’s going on here?”

Behind Crabbe and Goyle was a Ravenclaw prefect. A boy named Kingsley Shacklebolt, if Regulus remembered correctly. All he knew was that Kingsley was a half-blood.

Crabbe and Goyle mumbled, “Nothing.”

Calmly, Kingsley said, “Detention, for the both of you. Report to Mr Filch tonight at seven. You may leave now.”

Regulus smirked at the way Crabbe and Goyle ran off, but then he was alone in the corridor with Kingsley, and unfortunately, he now owed Kingsley, which was something he did not want! He didn’t want to owe anybody anything — with the exception of Barty — and being in debt to a mere half-blood made him cranky.

A long silence passed, and Kingsley said, “You’re welcome.”

He could hear amusement in Kingsley’s voice, and he scowled. “I didn’t thank you.”

“I’m well aware of that.”

“I don’t need to thank a half-blood like you,” Regulus snapped. He knew he was being rude, and he didn’t care. He wasn’t about to bow his head and play nice with a half-blooded prefect.

Kingsley cocked his head. “Does my blood status matter that much? We’re both human. Are we that much different?”

Regulus’ tirade stopped and all he could say was, “We just are.”

“We both bleed when injured. We both need food and water. We’re both capable of casting the same spells,” Kingsley said wisely.

Regulus shifted uncomfortably. What Kingsley said made sense, but he wasn’t ever going to admit that. “It matters, okay?” Stiffly, he forced himself to look at Kingsley’s face. He felt a sense of calm come over him, and he wondered why. Was Kingsley that much more powerful than him because of his blood status? Or was it because of his prefect status? Regulus wasn’t sure, but he shoved these conflicting thoughts aside, and he grudgingly said, “Thank you.”

“Here,” Kingsley said, handing him some library books. “Will you return these to the library for me? I’d appreciate it.”

This was Kingsley’s way of clearing Regulus’ debt. Regulus quickly accepted it, and he nodded. Kingsley left, and Regulus was alone with a pile of books. He stared at them, realising that Kingsley had given him an easy way out, and he felt cheated. The pure-blood traditionalist inside of him knew that this was not enough to cover the debt, but he somehow knew that Kingsley really didn’t expect much, and Regulus was disturbed by that fact. Why hadn’t Kingsley demanded something more from him? Why didn’t Kingsley use the opportunity?

“Honourable gits,” Regulus spat out in the deserted corridor. “That’s all they are. They are the weaker and inferior ones. It’s their faults they don’t take advantage of power!”

1977 — Somewhere in Hogsmeade

Losing his balance from the Portkey’s effect, Regulus fell, the sharp pebbles digging into his stomach and the palms of his hands. Glancing around, he saw that he was in one of Hogsmeade’s dark alleyways. He pushed himself onto his hands and knees and promptly vomited all over the dirt road. The pain in his left arm was secondary only to his pounding head, and he could feel tears streaming down his face as he continued retching up everything in his stomach.

What he had seen tonight was terrifying. He had to watch Lord Voldemort and his most loyal followers torture helpless Muggles. He rolled over onto his side, and he brought his hands up to cover his ears. He tried his best to block out all the screaming and the begging he had witnessed. He shut his eyes to erase the horrified expression on the Muggles’ faces — he just wanted to forget it all.

Worst of all, for his own initiation, he had to torture a small child who had looked to be no older than five. Of all the cries and screams he heard tonight, this child’s anguish was truly horrible — enough to make him re-think his decision. Somehow, though, he went with it. Pointing his wand, his voice low and guttural, he had said, “Crucio!”

He didn’t know how many times he said that spell. He didn’t want to remember.

He didn’t even know how he felt about Lord Voldemort anymore. What he saw tonight was not the same charismatic man he’d met two years ago. What had replaced that man tonight was something non-human, something with power and authority, but something Regulus was now frightened of.

Before he started sobbing, a goat bleeted out, and he heard a rough voice say, “Lumos.”

The sudden brightness made Regulus turn away. As he adjusted his eyes, he looked up and saw a familiar, old wizard. It was the owner of the Hog’s Head.

“Aren’t you one of those crazy lads always hanging off Tom Riddle’s every word? And always under some Disillusionment Charm? Why in Merlin’s name are you out here disturbing my goats?”

Startled, Regulus reached out with his left arm to grab something to pull himself up. The old wizard glanced at his arm, and Regulus realised that his Dark Mark showed. Quickly, he stood up and pulled his robe sleeve down.

The old wizard exhaled loudly. “I see. You’re one of them. Another young, pure-blood fool joining up with the biggest hypocrite of this century.”

Despite his horrible night, Regulus hated being called a fool. Against his better judgement, he retorted, “I’m not a fool, you . . . you ancient goat lover!”

“That is not my name, boy. The name’s Aberforth, so if you’re going to address me, get it right, you silly nitwit!”

Regulus swiped at his face, wiping away the tear stains, and he glared at Aberforth. “Stop insulting me!”

“Then wise up, boy! Why are you hanging around with that Riddle? Is it because you believe in Riddle’s so-called agenda to get rid of those who aren’t pure-blood? If so, like I said, you’re a fool.”

Turning around, Aberforth started to walk out of the alleyway, and Regulus bit back another retort that nearly escaped him. Instead, he felt as if a goat had rammed into his head, and he sank back to the ground on his knees, cradling his throbbing head in his hands. Groaning, he heard footsteps coming back towards him, and he saw Aberforth hovering over him. “Go away,” he mumbled.

Aberforth exhaled another monstrous sigh, and he said, “Come on in. You can sleep in my place for the night. Hope you’ve slept on hay before. It might make you get itchy in certain places.”

Regulus felt strong arms — at least strong for someone quite old — helping him up, and next thing he knew, he was being thrown onto a pile of hay. Even though he knew he had to go back to Hogwarts — Barty, who wouldn’t get initiated until next month, was waiting for him — as soon as his body hit that pile of hay, he went to sleep.

Instead of sleeping well like he’d hoped, he was plagued by the most appalling nightmare ever. In his nightmare, it recurred tonight’s events with him torturing the child. Only, instead of the child . . . he was torturing Sirius.

In his dream, it wasn’t the screams that affected him deeply. Instead, it was the look of betrayal on Sirius’ face that made him feel sick. And all Sirius would say was “Why?” Sirius never once told him to stop like the child had begged. That was all Sirius did.

Shocked and still feeling queasy from everything, Regulus got up before dawn and crept out, leaving a hasty ‘thank you’ message in the dirt. As he snuck into Hogwarts, Regulus hoped that he could just get on with his life, forget about last night’s atrocity, and be proud of his achievement of becoming an official Death Eater.

1978 — The Hog’s Head

“You look like shite, boy,” Aberforth said, plunking down a tumbler of Firewhisky. “Drink up. You already look like shite, so this will only make you shine like one of those Dungbombs you children like to waste money on.”

Regulus grabbed the tumbler and grunted, “Thanks.” Since last year, somehow or another, he’d become “friends” with this old wizard. Regulus had to admit that Aberforth was quite a crabby old coot who liked goats way too much, but despite Aberforth’s royal grumpiness, Regulus had started to respect him — albeit grudgingly.

“Still having that nightmare?”

Regulus nodded and took a sip of the Firewhisky.

“What about that friend of yours? That junior boy? You and he still inseparable?”

“Yeah.”

“Why are you so quiet? As you young people say, ‘What’s got your knickers in a twist’?”

” . . . I don’t wear knickers.”

“I would hope not.” Aberforth let out a low chuckle.

Regulus drained the entire tumbler, and his throat protested, and he started to cough, tears filling his eyes.

“You must be a masochist,” Aberforth noted.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Regulus asked quietly.

“Tell you what?”

“About Riddle’s true heritage.”

“I gave you a hint last year. It’s not my fault it took you this long to realise it.”

Regulus scowled and looked around the empty place. Last week, Lord Voldemort had requested to borrow Kreacher for a worthy cause. Only thing was, Kreacher had been mistreated badly. With that and with the discovery of Lord Voldemort’s half-blood status, he remembered the incident with Kingsley. Then there was the nightmare-that-refused-to-die, the same nightmare he’d been having every night.

He was nearing the edge of insanity, and he found himself telling Aberforth everything.

“I don’t know what to do anymore. I just don’t,” Regulus whispered. “And . . . I wish things were back to way it was with Sirius. I . . . I miss him as a brother.”

Aberforth rubbed the ends of his beard. “Well, if you want change, lad, you have to do it yourself.”

“How?!” Regulus burst out. “I can’t just walk up to Headmaster Dumbledore and ask for his help!”

“Oh, for the love of Billy the Goat! Why ever not?”

“I just can’t.”

“Then ask me.”

“What?” Regulus blinked. “You?”

Aberforth poured some more Firewhisky into Regulus’ tumbler. “I think you’re going to need some more of this because I’m about to tell you something.”

Regulus raised his eyebrows. “What? That you study goat fornication?”

“You have a strange sense of humour, lad. I’m about to tell you my last name. It’s Dumbledore.”

Choosing that moment to take a sip, Regulus spewed it all back out. “What?!”

“I’m offering you a chance to come help the Order. I won’t tell you how to do it. It’s up to you. If you want to help, say it. If not, I will have no choice but to Obliviate you.”

Regulus’ eyes narrowed. “Do you trust me that much to even offer this choice to me? You know I’m a Death Eater. Why would you even bother to help me . . . considering you’re somehow related to the leader of the Order.”

“Because I trust my judgement. And,” Aberforth paused before he gruffly said, “you’re all right, lad. You’re a bit of a fool, but I know you’re all right.” Standing up, he gave Regulus a small smirk. “I’ve got to tend Billy, Willy, and Dilly. Think about it.”

Left alone with his drink, Regulus stared off into space. He knew deep inside that Lord Voldemort was a madman, a hypocritical bastard who only wanted power for himself and who was seeking immortality. But could he really betray Lord Voldemort? Could he really be brave like a Gryffindor and help out the Order somehow? Or should he just be resourceful and continue to support Lord Voldemort through his horrendous agenda? After all, what if Lord Voldemort did win and take over the wizarding world? Or what if his nightmare did come true? Would he really have to torture and kill Sirius? Or could he somehow avoid all that by joining the Order?

There was always that other possibility that the Order would win instead . . .

Regulus sighed and drank some more Firewhisky, and he slowly pondered over the pros and cons of each choice.

By the time Aberforth came back, Regulus had made his decision.

1979 — Horcrux Cave

Lifting his head up, Regulus forced himself to his hands and knees. He couldn’t give up now. He had to finish this. He had to succeed. Had to for the Order’s — no, for Aberforth’s — sake. Had to for Barty. Had to for Kreacher. And most of all, he had to succeed for Sirius. He wanted Sirius’ love back.

His heart beat rapidly now, and it hurt to breathe as he crawled slowly towards the boat.

“Water . . . ” He desperately wanted it. A drop would feel like heaven to him. Surely, one drop from that murky lake wouldn’t hurt?

He edged himself closer to the water, ignoring the nagging in the very back of his head. He knew there was something important about the lake, but he couldn’t remember. His mind felt too sluggish. Shutting his eyes, to keep those unwanted visions away, he reached out with his hand. He felt the cool wetness at his fingertips. Forcing a pained smile, he brought his hand close to his lips.

There were sounds of loud splashes, and the cave reverberated, the vibration hurting him more. Ignoring the sudden screeching that encompassed him, he gripped his wand tightly. In a light voice, he said “I can do this, Sirius. I can. I’ll make you proud.”

Dudley glared at Hestia. “You want me to do what?”

She smirked. “You heard me just fine.”

He groaned loudly. Several months had passed since he and his parents had gone into hiding while those wizards and witches raged war against a psychopath who Dudley hoped he’d never meet. It’d been a long several months of eating nasty food, living in tense conditions, and staying in a flat that was too small compared to his home at Privet Drive.

But Dudley understood all the sacrifices. From what Hestia and Dedalus had told him, he knew Harry was going through much worse. He knew that the real world was a dangerous place compared to the cocoon of his childhood, and he was willing to do anything to protect himself and his parents. As well as Harry. Dudley had no desire to compromise Harry’s safety with any mistake.

After several months of living in this small flat, Hestia and Dedalus had received words that their current location was no longer safe. Luckily, the Order had another safe location ready. The plan was simple. Dedalus would escort his parents to the new location one way, and Hestia would escort him by another route.

However, there was a tiny catch. “I am not wearing those things.”

“You will wear them,” Hestia said pleasantly.

“It’s a bloody dress!” Dudley glared at the paisley-patterned dress. He wasn’t an expert on fashion, but even he could tell that it was the ugliest dress in the world. It was obviously a dress meant for a large woman, as he was anything but petite. He eyed the sleeves, wondering if it would even go over his bulky arms, but he quickly realised that Hestia probably did something magical with the dress to make it fit him.

“I’m well aware it’s a dress.” Her smile turned deadly as her eyes sparked with intensity. “Put. It. On.”

Heaving a sigh, Dudley grabbed the dress, but he still hesitated. “Can’t I just wear something else? Like one of those floppy hats? Or . . . or . . . a beard! That would work!” Dudley nodded eagerly, knowing that beards would fit a bloke better than a dress.

“Oh, for the love of stubborn teenagers! Look, put it on, wear the heels, and don’t forget the wig! And then I’ll do your make-up! It’s either that, or I will do something painful to you.” She paused. “Too bad I’m not allowed to cast magic on you. I would cast a permanent sex change spell on you right now if I could.”

“Hestiaaaaa. Dedalus would never do this to me!” He couldn’t help it. He was whinging, but he didn’t care.

She leaned close to him and smiled. “Although Diggle might seem nicer than me, I’m really far more lenient.”

Dudley blinked. From what he could see, Dedalus was definitely nicer than Hestia. Though Dedalus was a bit over-enthusiastic at times. “Huh?”

“Trust me when I say you do not want to know what his solution would be. Underneath that cheerful exterior lies a very sneaky and sadistic man,” she explained, tossing her black hair over her shoulders. “I know Diggle very well, so stop wasting time! Put the stuff on!”

Under his breath, Dudley muttered, “I know you’re a fucking cow. A fucking bossy cow.”

“What?” Her eyes gleamed dangerously.

“Nothing! I’ll do it!”

“Good.”

The next few minutes didn’t pass quickly enough for him. He somehow got the horrific looking dress, the tight heels that pinched his toes, and the itchy brown, curly wig on. Then Hestia quickly applied some make-up on him, which, he thought, made him look like one of those scary clowns. Like the Joker but ten times worse! When everything was done, Dudley stared into the mirror. “This isn’t going to work!” Dudley muttered to himself.

The world’s ugliest drag queen stared back at him. The dress made him look larger than he usually appeared. He stared at his wide chest; he had no tits, but he didn’t mind. He was not going to wear a bra with stuffings in them. The shoes were already killing him, and he now had a bit more respect for those women who wore heels all the time. The curly wig wasn’t soft at all; in fact, the curls were very hard and spiky. Dudley was afraid that the long fringe would poke his eyes out!

All in all, aside from the pansy-looking dress, the horrible make-up, and the spiky wig, he came to the conclusion he looked like that Trunchbull woman from Matilda.

“There, now we can go. Even though it’s midnight, it doesn’t hurt to take this extra precaution.” Hestia changed her robes into a long Chinese style dress. It was red with golden patterns all over it.

Dudley now looked at both of them in the mirror. The two misfits of the century. “I think we’ll attract attention.”

“How so?”

“I look like I’m going to go to an afternoon tea with the Joker, while you look like you’re going to go to the Chinatown or whatever that place the Americans call!”

“Dudley? Tomorrow’s Halloween. We can say we’re on our way to a costume party.”

“At midnight?”

“Why not?” Hestia grabbed his arm, and he stumbled in his heels. “Now, let’s go.”

As he was dragged along in the dark night, Dudley only hoped that this would work. Last thing he wanted to do was to die wearing all this! And when he reached the safe location, he planned to take everything off and burn them. He didn’t care if he had to shove everything into an oven. He’d do it!

“Bill? You’ve completely lost your knuts in that noggin of yours.”

“You know you like it, Charlie.”

“It’s too damn painful.”

“No, it isn’t. You just have to adjust your weight and lift yourself the right way! And don’t think about the pain. Think about the benefits.”

“What benefits? I’m sweating, and this position’s killing me!”

“Charlie, stop being a wanker! You’ll enjoy this. Besides, you hang around with those fire-breathing creatures all day! You sweat all the time there.”

“At least I don’t have to listen to your Percy-like lectures from them.”

“You did not just bring our brother into this situation.”

“Shaddup.”

“Whatever. Now move it.”

“I will if you quit shoving so hard, Bill!”

“Then do your part!”

“Fine . . . how’s that?”

“Lift up there and pull!”

“Ow! Fuck. Am getting scratched here. Be careful!”

“I’m trying to be careful here, all right?”

“Ahhh. There. That’s done.”

“See, I told you it wasn’t bad. This was a very healthy experiment. And stop glaring at me.”

“Bill? Do me a favour.”

“What?”

“Next time Aunt Muriel needs a bloody fucking piano moved, don’t volunteer us ever again!”

Sirius let out a sigh and kicked the chair in front of him. “Damn the Wizarding and the Muggle world!” He paced around the sitting room of the flat he shared with his lover, Remus. “Them and their damned homophobic views!”

Remus, who was sitting in an armchair, rubbed his own forehead. “Sirius, calm down. There is nothing we can do about it. If we cannot legalise our relationship, then we just have to let it go.”

“But Remus!” Sirius wailed in frustration. “I wanna get married to you! I love you!”

“So do I, Sirius, but no can do.”

Harry, Sirius’ godson, looked up from the couch he was sharing with Hermione. “This really isn’t fair. You two contributed so much to the Order and the war against Voldemort.” He let out a sigh. “There must be a way.”

Harry stood up and went to the front of the fireplace, studying the pictures that were hung above there. He looked and smiled. One of them portrayed the Marauders with Lily; all of them looked happy and carefree. Harry frowned as he noticed that something was missing. Peter was missing. He looked closer and saw that the place where Peter used to be was replaced with a stuffed pink bunny. He sniggered to himself knowing that Sirius had hexed it there.

Harry looked around the room. Hermione was bent over on the couch with a huge book in her lap. Ron, who had been standing behind his girlfriend, took Harry’s spot on the couch. “Hermione, can’t you ever stop reading for once?”

“Hush, Ron.” She glanced up at her lover and smiled. “I am trying to see if there is a way to bypass those stupid laws which are just wholly unjust.”

“Hermione, give it up.” Sirius breathed out in resignation. “Remus already looked, and there is no way to bypass it.”

Hermione stood up and glared. “Well, you never know. You said it yourself during the war that I was the best researcher the Order ever had, so I’m putting the same use into this situation, and it is all for you and Remus.”

“That’s not what I meant, Hermione,” said Sirius, trying to amend the comment he made previously.

“Okay. Understood.” Her glare lessened a bit. “However, I will continue my research at home.” She nodded to Ron. “Come on. We are leaving.”

Ron groaned. “That means no sex for the next few weeks until she gets to the bottom of this.”

“With that comment, make that a few months, Ronald Weasley!” Hermione Apparated away.

Ron grumbled under his breath, “Exaggerator.” He nodded his goodbyes to the other three and disappeared as well.

Harry smiled as his best friend left the usual way. “Those two are unbelievable.”

Remus chuckled. “Yeah. From the sitcoms I’ve seen, those two will be perfect.” Remus was born into a family of half and half. His father a Wizard and his mother a Muggle, Remus had the privilege of growing up in both realms. He respected both worlds, but at times like this, he hated both.

He glanced at his lover. Sirius, who grew up in a Wizarding world, had a fascination for the Muggle world. Because of growing up in a Pureblood family, he rather disliked the Wizarding world and preferred to be in the Muggle one. However, once he found out that the Muggles were just as homophobic as the former, he was crushed.

Harry stretched and hugged Sirius. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure Hermione will find a way to go around the damned laws.” He embraced Remus as well. “In the meantime though, I have to go.”

Remus smiled gently. “Got a date?”

“Yeah I do.”

Scowling, Sirius stared at the wall in front of him. “With that ‘greasy bastard’, I’m guessing.”

“Oh, Sirius.” Harry laughed. “You will never change and neither will he. Like when I said I was going to see you, he said ‘With the dirty old mutt, I presume’.”

Remus stifled a laugh as Sirius’ scowled deepened. With a wave, Harry left.

“Damned Snape,” grumbled Sirius.

Remus walked over and kissed the back of his lover’s neck while his arms wrapped around the firm body. “Don’t let that get to you, love.”

“What if I do?”

“Then no sex for the next few weeks,” Remus deadpanned.

“You wouldn’t, and what is with all this ‘no sex’ crap?” exclaimed Sirius, his face paling. “Plus you’re hornier than I am!”

“But I have a stronger willpower.” Remus swatted his arse and walked away.

“You’re going to get it!” Sirius chased after his lover, all the way to their room. Upon reaching there, Sirius pounced on Remus, causing both of them to fall on their bed. Sirius started tickling the nimble body beneath him.

“Sirius!” Remus gasped out, laughing at the same time. “Stop!”

Amused, Sirius let go and nuzzled the neck. Slowly, he started to kiss and suck the soft skin. He felt Remus’ arms going around him, and they tightened their hold on him. “Love you, Sirius.”

Looking up at his lover’s face, he bent down to kiss the supple, inviting lips. “Love you too.”

“I’ve found a solution,” said Hermione, with a huge smile on her face.

A week had passed since the small gathering. Everyone else was back, with the addition of Severus, who had come because of Harry’s pleading. They were all in the sitting room and lounging around when Hermione bought up the subject of marriage.

“It’s bloody brilliant, in my own opinion,” stated Ron with a serious expression. “And I think it’ll work out as well.” Ron and Hermione were both sharing the couch again, and Hermione’s lap was free of books this time.

Harry grinned widely and took Severus’ hand. They were both standing, leaning against the wall. “Well don’t keep us all in suspense! Do tell.”

“Well,” Hermione began. “Basically what we need to do is have those two separate. Then the man of the relationship will pretend to be going out with a new woman, but instead, that woman will be Remus or Sirius. Whoever decides to be a woman will be glamorised, and he will be posing as a woman for the next few months in public to show that Sirius or Remus has a new lover. The two of them will get married as a heterosexual couple, and once the Ministry finds out the truth, they have no say in it whatsoever. The only way the marriage can be cancelled by any method is for them to have a divorce. Of course, there is the issue where Remus will be known as something else on the marriage certificate, but we can work that out later.”

Everyone stared at Hermione, except for Ron and Severus, with their mouth opened. The silence was deafening. Hermione and Ron became uncomfortable by the quietness of the situation and had worried looks on their face.

“Sirius? Remus? Are you all okay with this?” Hermione asked, wringing her hands together.

Sirius spoke up first. “As strange as the idea is, I think this will work!”

Harry started laughing. “This is absurd!” His laughter dimmed and from the way his shoulders were shaking, it was not over. “It will work!”

“And I think –” Sirius started walking around the room, waving his arms around excitedly. “–that Remus should be the bride.” He turned to look at his mate. “Don’t you think so, Remus?”

Everyone turned to look at Remus. He was sitting in an armchair with a blank expression on his face. Slowly, he turned to glare at Sirius. He stood up swiftly and walked to the bedroom and slammed the door ceremoniously. Everyone gawked at the scene that just happened except for Severus, who snorted and muttered, “Figured.”

All the stares went straight to Severus with a questioning look. He ignored them and asked a bored, “What? As if you all couldn’t tell why he got annoyed.”

“Then enlighten us,” said Harry, wasting no time, not wanting to deal with another row between his lover and his godfather.

The Potion Master rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. “Dumb Gryffindors . . . why do I let myself suffer so . . . ”

Before Sirius could comment, Severus went on. “Are you blind, Black? It is plain to see that Lupin did not like being referred to as the ‘woman’ of the relationship. You quickly assumed that he would be the one to dress up in a bridal gown and be the one to prepare to look like a lady for a day. Have you not thought that you might have been the one to be in that role instead?”

As realisation dawned on the rest of the group, Severus went on in his lecturing voice. “Also considering the fact that Lupin is a werewolf and I’m guessing he’s an alpha, the alpha in him probably reacted strongly to the assumption of being something lesser. But no, Black. You forgot about who he was and decided to automatically place him as the female role. Thinking before acting obviously does not work for you at all.”

Sirius glowered at his nemesis. “Okay, maybe for a change you’re right. I’ll go talk to him and see what he wants.”

Hermione nodded. “That’s for the best. You guys have plenty of time, so go talk about it.” She stood and pulled her boyfriend along. “In fact, we are leaving now.”

Ron blinked. “We are?”

“Yes, Ron, we are.” Without another word, the two Apparated out of sight.

Harry clasped his godfather comfortingly. “Don’t worry. I’m sure Remus will understand.” He smiled. “I’ll see you later.”

The last remaining couple Apparated; Severus did so without saying anything else to Sirius. Sirius frowned at the spot where Severus was remaining a few seconds before.

He turned towards the bedroom and started to walk there, wondering if Remus was really that mad, and if he was, that meant no sex tonight. At that knowledge, Sirius groaned.

Sirius knocked on the room and received no answer. He decided to enter anyway. He looked around the small, but cosy bedroom. There was a small fireplace right across from the foot of the bed. It wasn’t lit at the moment. The weather was too warm for a fire to be burning in a hearth. The huge four-poster bed, decorated in red and gold, Gryffindor colours, was made neatly. Remus was sitting in front of the window, which was situated on the left of the bed. The window had a padded window seat, and Remus sat there, looking outside at the bustling, busy streets of London.

Sirius smiled to himself and thought that Remus looked so ravishingly fuckable just sitting there. His smile disappeared as he looked closely at his lover. A frown was etched on Remus’ face, and Sirius remembered that he had to confront him.

He walked up slowly to him, the footsteps echoing in the silent room. “Remus? Can I join you?”

Automatically, Remus answered, “It is ‘may’, not ‘can’. And yes you may join me.”

Making a face, Sirius bit back his retort. “Okay, Professor.” He sat next to his lover on the window seat and stared downward. Next to him, Remus stiffened. Sirius paid attention to a lover’s quarrel below.

“Why can’t I get a job?” screamed the woman.

“Because, I expect anyone that’s going to be my wife to stay home and take care of the house!” The man growled out.

The woman recoiled as if she had been slapped. “I respect your views, but honestly that is so fucking old fashioned! It’s bollocks if you think women nowadays are going to be satisfied with being good housewives!”

Sirius looked back up to Remus. “Blimey. Is that how you felt when I suggested you to be the bride?”

Remus rose up and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed in front of him. “Pretty much. But I should not have overreacted.”

“No. You’ve had every right to do so. I shouldn’t have jumped to a conclusion about you taking the female role so quickly.” Sirius stood up and went to hug his mate. “I’m sorry, Remus.”

Remus snuggled into Sirius neck and stayed there comfortably. “It’s okay. I forgive you.”

Sirius kissed the top of Remus’ head and deeply breathed in the aroma called Remus. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” Remus reached and planted a gentle kiss on the lips of his lover in which he started to tease. Sirius groaned and deepened the kiss. The two tongues were fighting for domination until Sirius finally gave in, and Remus took over. He slowly manoeuvred them toward the bed, and Sirius fell back on it with Remus on top. As Remus explored the sweet cavern, his hands slipped under the shirt and started their adventure of roaming over Sirius’ torso.

Sirius forced himself to come to sense and stopped the kiss. “Remus? So what are we gonna to do about the dress thing . . . ?”

“Shh.” Remus went back to kissing his mate beneath him. “Worry about that later . . . I . . . just . . . want . . . you . . . now.”

“Yes,” groaned Sirius. “Later.”

Remus shushed him with another kiss. “Quit talking. Did anyone ever tell you that you talk too much during sex?”

Grinning, Sirius replied back, “So do you.” He wrapped his arms tighter around the lithe body on top of his and started kissing his lover’s neck. “But talking’s good.”

“So how are we doing this, Hermione?” asked Remus.

Everyone was gathered at the flat again later on in the week. After the make up sex, Sirius and Remus talked about the subject amongst themselves. Sirius had offered to be the woman of the two, but Remus said he would do it. He said that after thinking about it to himself, he couldn’t ever see Sirius as a female. Sirius was taller and buffer compared to Remus, who was shorter with a figure that was slender and lithe.

The catch was that Sirius was not to expect Remus to take the role further after the wedding, or he’d be in trouble. Sirius agreed.

Hermione still doubted Remus’ decision and therefore explained the process tentatively.

“Well, I read up on glamour spells, and there are ways to change one’s appearance with it. Sirius can cast it since the spells are similar to Transfiguration in nature. For at least the next few months, whenever you are in public, Remus, have Sirius enchant you as a woman, and Severus offered to make a potion that will make your voice become higher. You will not feel anything of the glamour, such as you would not feel the long hair, make up, or etcetera. The only thing you will feel is the clothes. You just have to wear female clothes along with your glamour. That is basically it. And I know I said before that you are to only look like a woman for one day, but the few times you go out in public, will be more convincing if you were a woman. Not to mention, you will know how it feels by the time you get married. Oh, yes, and the person who cast the spell is the only one who can undo it.”

Incredulously, Sirius asked, “Snape offered? Since when does he offer anything?”

“I would be careful on what you say, Black, or otherwise good luck in finding some other potion brewer to concoct the voice potion without them becoming too curious and suspicious.” Severus looked up with his classroom glare. “Do not abuse my current act of goodwill.”

Wisely, Sirius didn’t say anything, but he certainly grumbled!

“So shall we try the glamour spell out?” Hermione asked.

Sirius nodded, and she proceeded to tell him the list of spells.

“Damn, Hermione. How many are there?”

“Well . . . there is one for the facial structures in which you get rid of Remus’ facial hair and then change other parts of the face to your liking. Also, that same spell can change his eye colour and hair colour. Then there is one for the hair, to make it longer. Another to get rid of the excess body hair on the arms, legs, and chest. Finally, we have the one to change the body structure, in which he takes a more curvy shape of the woman and get breasts. And then of course it renders changes down in the crotch area.”

Sirius gawked at her and so did Remus.

“Oh, please,” said Hermione, rolling her eyes. “Sirius, you are the Transfiguration expert, so after doing this a couple time, it will become easier as you go along.”

Determinedly, he turned to Remus. “Well, love, what do you want to look like?”

Everyone turned to look at Remus. They were all curious to how he wanted to look like as a woman.

“You choose for me, Sirius.”

“Remus,” Sirius gave an exasperated sigh. “You’re the one who’s turning into a woman for at least the next couple months, so you tell me how you want to look.”

Remus sighed as well. “Sirius. You are going to be the one casting the spell on me. If I described every single detail I’d want as a woman, it’s going to drive you nuts, and you are going to forget minor details along the way, and I will end up looking different every time. So to make this easier on both of us, I suggest you create an image of me and stick with it.”

Everyone was silent as Remus’ explanation sunk in his or her minds.

“He does have a point,” Hermione agreed. “So Sirius, do you have a mental image of Remus as a woman?”

“I do, believe it or not.”

“Then cast the spells.”

With a deep breath, Sirius flicked his wand and said the incantations. Everyone watched Remus slowly changed.

First noticeable change was that his shaggy hair grew longer and reached the middle of his back. The hair was slightly wavy and the colour changed from light brown to medium brown. The excessive hairs on his arms, legs, chest, and face disappeared, just to be replaced by smooth, pale skin. The amber eyes became green, not as bright as Harry’s, but just as vivid. There were dimples in his cheek, and his nose shrunk in size a bit to fit his newly shaped face. His height remained the same, but the build took more of the female curves than the hard, masculine look before. Even the fingers looked softer and more feminine than the strong male hands. His broad shoulders became slighter. Finally his breasts were formed. They were not too flat or huge but were normal sized.

Sirius put his wand down and studied his lover in front of him. Before the glamour process, Remus was wearing a tee shirt and shorts. Now his shirt neatly came off his shoulders. Remus had to hold up his shorts to prevent it from falling. He was blushing deeply as everyone stared at him again.

Harry swallowed. “Blimey, if I didn’t know that was Remus, and if I wasn’t gay, I’d definitely hit on you. That is if I wasn’t taken as well.” He amended quickly after glancing at Severus. “Remus you look like Kate Winslet.”

“No, I say you look more like Nicole Kidman,” said Hermione, studying him critically.

Sirius laughed sheepishly. “Actually, I was aiming more for Julia Roberts . . . ”

Remus went to the nearest mirror and stared at his reflection.

“Sirius, if you were aiming for Julia Roberts, your aim is very off. I feel like Helen Hunt with dark hair,” he deadpanned.

Severus stepped up and handed him a vial. “This is the voice changing potion. The effects will last about three hours. So if time runs out and you got no extras, then keep your mouth shut.”

“Thank you, Severus.” Remus took the cap off the vial and drank. “Yuck. Tastes almost as bad as the Wolfsbane potion.”

After about a minute, Remus spoke again. “How do I sound?” His low tenor was replaced with a very high alto. Remus winced.

“Well, it sounds more girly that’s for sure.” Hermione looked at his clothes. “Let us go shopping now, Remus.”

Before Remus started protesting, Hermione butted in. “Relax. We are just buying a few blouses, couple of slacks and skirts, with shoes, and undergarments. Just the work. In fact, this can be our first outing!” She glanced at Remus’ bra-less chest. “Wear a jacket. It is a bit chilly.” It was late spring, but the weather decided to be a bit wet and clammy that particular day.

Remus went to the bedroom and grabbed a jacket and changed into a pair of jeans that was now big for him. He snatched one of Sirius’ belts and buckled himself snugly. “I’m ready to go.”

Hermione linked an arm into Remus’ and smiled. “Oh, yes, what are we going to call you now?”

“Linda?” suggested Ron.

“Ann?” Harry piped in.

Sirius looked into his lover’s eyes. “How about Vivian?”

“First you intend Lupin to look like Julia Roberts, and now you take one of her character and name him that? How original can you get, Black?” drawled Severus. Nobody was stupid enough to ask how Severus knew about “Pretty Woman.”

“I think it will work,” Remus smoothly interrupted. “Let’s go, Hermione. Let’s go shopping. Maybe I’ll finally understand you ladies’ love for such excursions.”

“Yes, Vivian, let’s leave the ‘men’ alone to their business. And we shall come back and show them the real ‘Vivian’.” The two of them Apparated away and left the others behind.

The remaining men looked at each other.

“Chess anyone?” Ron pulled out his portable chessboard and glanced at someone hopefully.

Severus thought to himself. The idea of socialising with Sirius left him feeling disgusted, so he decided to play chess. Besides, he wanted to defeat a Weasley and prove their incompetence. “I’ll play you, Weasley.”

Harry took this opportunity to start a game of Exploding Snap with Sirius, and the four spent the next few hours amusing themselves.

After a long day of shopping, Remus realised why men like him avoided such activity. How in Godric’s name women lived on this was a mystery to him. He was tired; his feet and his arms were sore from walking from stores to stores and from carrying the purchases.

Hermione made him try on item after item. He went into the dressing room, and he hated it. The cramped space bought him back memories of being locked up in a cage during his change when he was younger. However, he had no choice, so he had to endure the small area or face changing in front of other people. He never considered himself an exhibitionist except to his lover.

“‘The work’, eh? Seems more like a whole new wardrobe,” he muttered to himself when he was in the dressing room trying on underwear.

He did not like it when Hermione was looking at his glamorised breasts. Even though Hermione hadn’t meant the action to be a sexual one, he now knew how some women felt when men were ogling their breasts. After trying on couple bras, Hermione had declared that he was a 34 C.

Remus was grateful that he didn’t have to learn how to apply makeup. Wearing the clothes was good enough, or maybe bad enough for him. But nevertheless, he was still thankful.

After five hours of shopping, they came back to the flat. Everyone’s mouth, including Severus’, dropped open.

“Holy shite, Hermione. What’d you do?” Ron managed to ask, barely moving his mouth.

Everyone’s eyes were on Remus’ form. He was wearing blue jean flairs that made his legs seem longer. He had on top a white peasant shirt, and it was revealing the top part of his chest. He had on shoes with no heels. Remus had drawn the line about wearing shoes with heels. He said he was not going to learn how to walk in those while he was a female. Hermione reluctantly agreed.

Sirius walked up to his mate with an undecipherable look on his face. He took Remus’ face in his hand and looked into his eyes. “You look beautiful. If you were a real woman and I wasn’t gay, I’d go after you in a heartbeat.”

Blushing, Remus was too tongue-tied to say anything.

Harry shook himself out of his reverie. “Well . . . Hermione. You certainly know how to dress anyone up.” Everyone except for Severus nodded to Harry’s assessment.

“Yes. I have to agree with Harry on this sudden turn of event. I reckon.” Severus stood up from where he was sitting. “Harry, we should leave now.” He turned to Remus. “I’ll owl you more voice changing potion later.”

Harry said his goodbyes and Apparated with Severus. Ron and Hermione left as well, not before reminding Remus to go out in public with Sirius often so people know that Sirius and Remus “broke up”.

After they left, Remus talked. “Damn it feels weird to hear my voice as a man when I look like a woman.”

Laughing, Sirius said, “I still like your original body better.”

“If you do, take this glamour off, please?”

“Will do.” Sirius smirked. “How about changing out of the clothes first. Wouldn’t want them to get ripped after just buying them.”

Remus nodded and picked up the packages and walked toward the bedroom. When he noticed Sirius was not following him, he stopped and turned around. “Sirius, I am not going to become butt naked here. I am not that much of an exhibitionist.”

“Aw, Remus. No one is here.”

“Then you will sleep out here tonight since you seem to like this place so much,” Remus deadpanned.

Sirius pouted very cutely and walked behind Remus. Upon entering their room, Sirius closed the door and turned around. He saw Remus throwing the packages on the floor and quickly took off his clothes. Sirius pulled out his wand and said “Finite Incantatem”.

Remus got his normal body back and sighed in relief. “I think this is a bad idea.”

“But it’s the only way . . . unless you want me to do it.”

“No,” said Remus, shaking his head. “I said I will do it, and I will stick with it.”

Sirius crossed the short distance and wrapped his arms around Remus’ nude body. “I love you so much, Remus.”

“So do I,” Remus replied, hugging him back. “Now, though . . . I think you should take some clothes off as well. You have an unfair advantage of me.” He smirked and started to lift up Sirius’ tee shirt.

Sirius raised his arms up so Remus could take the shirt of easily. Sirius was about to unzip his jean when Remus attacked his mouth. Good thing Sirius was standing by the bed, or he would have fallen straight to the floor. His back hit the bed, and he started to kiss back.

Sirius pushed Remus back gently and said, “Make love to me, Remus.”

Remus groaned a yes and started to kiss Sirius’ neck. He nibbled and sucked gently. Sirius moaned at the attention he was getting. Remus stopped and looked down. “Of course I will. Just don’t talk.” He went back to ravishing his lover and made love to him.

“I hardly think this was a good idea to come to Hogsmeade . . . ” Remus looked around nervously. He was in one of his new outfit he bought with Hermione. Sirius and Remus decided to do their first outing at the Three Broomsticks on a Saturday.

Sirius glanced incredulously at Remus. “But Re–, I mean Vivian, you wanted to come here. You said you wanted some butterbeer!”

“Yeah, but I am nervous.”

Three weeks had passed for the two men. They figured that three weeks was good enough to make everything seem as if Sirius and Remus had broken up, and Sirius found a new lover. Remus’ exact words were “You have a reputation that you kept at school as a studboy before you and I got together, so it is not going to be too much of a surprise when people see you with a new a lover. Three weeks should do it.” They even planned a public argument at the Leaky Cauldron. Remus pretended to be really mad and said that he was going to go to Scotland until Sirius mended his ways and said that they were through. The people at the Leaky Cauldron were so shocked to see two of their war heroes being split up that the rumour mill went around fast.

“Don’t be. I’m with you,” Sirius took Remus’ hand and walked into the Three Broomsticks. “Hey, Rosmerta!”

Rosmerta turned around and looked at Sirius with an amazed expression. “Sirius, so good to see you once more, and . . . ” she trailed off. “Where’s Remus?”

“We split up.” Sirius answered hastily. “But here, I’d like you to meet Vivian.” Sirius smiled and indicated the woman next to him. “Vivian, this is Rosmerta. She’s the owner of the Three Broomsticks.”

Rosmerta gave “Vivian” a guarded look. “Pleased to meet you.” She turned and looked at Sirius. “So the rumours were true? I couldn’t believe them at all. But now . . . it looks like I am seeing them for myself.”

Remus felt bad for deceiving Rosmerta, but he knew this was needed. “Enjoy your stay here, gentl — I mean, Sirius and Vivian.” She walked away.

Sirius grinned and led them to an empty table. “What do you want to drink?”

“Get me a . . . ” Remus hesitated, ” . . . a butterbeer.”

Sirius walked up to the bar and ordered their drinks. Remus looked around and saw Minerva walking past him, giving him a suspicious look. He almost called out to her and remembered that he was supposed to be “Vivian”, not Remus. Sirius came back a few minutes later, carrying their drinks. He handed Remus the butterbeer and drank his own.

“So how do you like this place?” Sirius asked, trying to start a conversation.

Remus remembered to have an accent since “Vivian” was not from England. “Very nice. This place is cosier than the place I went to near Beauxbatons.” Remus forced a smile and put his hand on Sirius’ arm. “So this the infamous place I have heard so much about where you went as a student.”

Sirius grinned happily. “Yes. All the memories, good or bad, resides around this area the most.”

Remus secretly agreed to himself and was about to say something when a cheery voice interrupted.

“Well, well, who do we have here? Sirius? And who is this lovely lady next to you?” Albus Dumbledore with his benign smile, walked over to the couple.

Sirius choked on his drink and looked up at the revered wizard. “Oh, Albus, it’s you.” He and Remus stood up quickly.

“Albus, I’d like you to meet the new love of my life, Vivian. And Vivian, this is Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts. I’ve told you all about him a lot.”

Eyes twinkling, Albus took Remus’ hand and brought it up to his lips. “Pleased to meet such a lovely lady.”

“Pleased to meet you too, Professor Dumbledore,” said Remus.

“Well, Sirius, my boy, I must return back to Hogwarts. I do wish you and Miss Vivian here lots of luck. I do hope your plans all work out.” Humming, Albus walked out.

Remus leaned over to Sirius, “Let’s leave. I’m tired.”

Sirius nodded, and they both Apparated to their flat. Remus sat down on the couch noisily and sighed. “I think Albus suspects.”

“Oh great . . . ”

“Yes. Nothing ever gets passed that man. I don’t think he will tell anyone though. In fact, knowing him, he probably thinks our plan is very hilarious.”

“It is ingenious,” said Sirius, grinning madly. “I mean after all, it’s like we are acting in a play and succeeding.”

“I cannot wait till this is over. I do not like this, but such sacrifices must be made.” Remus sighed and started to take off his clothes. “I do not enjoy being a woman. No I do not.”

Sirius smiled and began to help. “I know, Remus. But it’ll be over soon before you know it and then after all this is done, you are gonna wish you were still a woman.”

Dryly, Remus said, “Sure. When Lord Voldemort dresses in a pink tutu and dances to the Swan Lake music, then that will happen.”

The next few weeks were either heaven or hell for Remus. He went out in public with Sirius often to prove that Sirius and “Vivian” were going out and are in love. Most of the other wizards and witches were getting used to seeing Sirius without Remus. Remus would come out as himself once in a while to prove that. Others had seen him with another woman, a friend of Hermione’s. The woman was an advocate for werewolves’ rights, so those two were seen together frequently.

After those few weeks, Sirius and Remus finally decided that it was time to propose to “Vivian”. Sirius dragged Hermione with him to the jewellery store saying he needed help with this ring-buying thing. Hermione agreed and came.

“How about that one?” Sirius pointed at a lovely platinum ring that had sapphires around the diamonds.

Hermione glanced at it quickly and answered, “Sure. If you are willing to pay an arm and a leg.”

That had been the tenth ring Hermione shrugged off at. Sirius was getting a bit frustrated. The previous rings were too feminine, too gold, too silver, or too this and that.

“Well, then you choose!” Sirius threw his hands up in the air in defeat. “What would you suggest?”

“Get a simple platinum band.”

“Hermione. Have you forgotten this is for a woman?”

“No, I have not forgotten, Sirius. Just choose a simple band for now Rowena’s sake!”

Sirius chose a simple platinum ring and asked for the price. The ring wasn’t too cheap or expensive. Sirius paid for it, and got it in a lovely box, with a strange look from the saleswoman of the store. But wisely, she didn’t say anything. Hermione stepped out of the store with satisfaction.

“Let’s go to my flat. It’s not very far from here.” Hermione started to walk down the street with Sirius following her.

As soon as they reached the flat, Sirius turned to her. “So what’s the deal?”

“Sirius. Sometimes I think your obsession with Muggles are making you forget you’re a wizard,” said Hermione turning on the lights with a flick of her wand. “We can charm not only for it to fit whoever’s wearing it, but charm it so it looks like a woman’s wedding ring.”

“Oh . . . ” Sirius blushed. “I knew that.”

Hermione asked for the box that held the ring and opened it. She said the incantation that charmed the ring to fit on anyone’s finger and made it look more feminine. She handed it back to Sirius.

“Beautiful . . . at times like this it’s a shame Remus is not a woman,” Sirius laughed out a loud. “Thanks a lot, Hermione.”

She smiled. “Now shoo. You have a dinner date to keep and have proposing to do!”

Laughing Sirius Apparated to his and Remus’ flat.

Remus was not comfortable. Hermione had talked him into wearing heels. They were low heels, but he still did not like them period. At least they aren’t too difficult to walk in. Today was a big day, so Remus had to dress up. Unfortunately, he had to dress up as a woman. Hermione had made reservations at a nice Muggle restaurant, saying that this was like a five-star restaurant for Sirius to propose in. So they both had to be on the formal side.

Sirius was wearing black slacks with a white button down shirt with a black jacket over it. Remus thought Sirius had it easier, while he had to wear some kind of cocktail dress, as Hermione called it, with painful open-toed shoes with heels. He admitted he looked nice, but considered this dress not for comfort. Hermione chose a black dress saying it went with everything and matched his date. Remus dutifully followed along and wished he hadn’t now. He came to a conclusion: Women definitely did not have it easier than men.

“How’s the food?” Sirius asked, breaking Remus’ deep concentration.

Remus smiled. “The food is delicious.” That was the only good thing in this entire ordeal.

“Yeah. Hermione said this place really got great food.” Sirius grinned. “And a good wine selection!”

“You and your obsession for alcohol.” Remus laughed and shook his head. “You are so predictable, in a delightful way.”

Sirius sheepishly raised his glass and said, “Cheers.”

Remus followed along. Sirius got a solemn expression on his face, and Remus knew what was coming next.

Sirius got up and kneeled down next to Remus. He dug through his pockets and pulled out a box, he opened it and there in the middle was a beautiful ring. An enchanted ring but a ring nonetheless. He raised the box and started on his speech.

“Vivian, we haven’t known each other as long as we should know, but I feel like we’ve known each other for a long time. I love you very much. Love you more than life can take. Vivian, will you marry me?”

Blushing, Remus actually thought this was a sentimental moment, and tears came to his eyes. “Oh, Sirius, yes!”

Remus raised Sirius up from the ground and kissed him fully on the lips. Parting, he said, “I love you, Sirius Black.”

Taking the ring out of the box, Sirius gently slipped it on Remus’ finger. They looked at each other in the eyes, and it seemed like time had stopped for both of them. Despite all the troubles Remus went through, and yet more troubles were coming, he knew all this was worth “marrying” Sirius Black.

Sirius broke the moment by saying, “Now for the wedding plans.” Remus silently groaned at the assessment and nodded.

A couple weeks later, Sirius and Remus invited everyone who were in the plot and were lounging in the sitting room once again.

Remus was his usual self. The only visible feminine object on Remus was the ring. It looked odd, but once the ordeal was done with, the ring would return to its original ambiguous form. They were here to discuss what was supposed to happen now.

“So now what?” Ron asked the obvious.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I always forget how dense he can be. Ron, the most apparent thing to do now is for them to get married.”

“I know that, Hermione. What I mean is what’s happening next? Like what’s the next step?”

Hermione smiled widely, which gave Remus bad feelings. “Outfit shopping!”

All the men turned and gawked at her, except for Severus who glowered in the side. “Huh?”

“We can dress them up in Muggle or Wizarding style. Which would you prefer, Remus? Sirius?” Hermione jumped ahead.

The two in question looked at each other. “Er . . . ” Sirius rubbed the back of his head. “Not sure. What would you suggest, Herm?”

“Oh for . . . ” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Whichever you choose, it won’t matter because you are going to have to have the Minister of Magic there to verify.”

“Damn, Fudge,” Sirius muttered under his breath. “I’m surprised he’s still in there.”

“Yes, yes.” She waved her hands impatiently. “Hopefully he’ll be sacked one day, but it doesn’t look like any time soon. Let’s just deal with him for a few minutes while he gives you his blessing or whatever.”

“Sirius?” Remus turned to his lover. “What do you prefer? Muggles or Wizarding?”

Sirius pondered for a minute before he answered. “Wizarding. All you have to do is wear a robe, and the robes are not gender-specific.”

“Smart answer considering that if we go with the plan, changing Remus back to his original form would be problematic if he was wearing those wedding gowns.” Severus drawled from where he stood.

“I didn’t ask for your comments, Snape!” Sirius snapped.

“I think Wizarding style will be good,” Remus said, wanting to avoid any confrontations. “Besides, I am tired of wearing all these feminine clothes.”

Harry and Ron both laughed while Hermione covered her smile with her hand.

“I don’t blame you, Remus. It must be uncomfortable to say the least,” Ron said between his laughter.

“Anyway, all we have to do now is purchase the robes. The one Remus will wear will be baggier, so that after the transformations, he’ll be comfortable.” Hermione clapped her hands, happy that the plan was going so well. “So, ‘Vivian’, let’s go shopping.”

Remus groaned, while everyone minus Severus sniggered. He then sighed, wanting this to be over with.

Sirius and Remus waited in a room at the Ministry along with Harry, Severus, Ron and Hermione who were going to be their witnesses. Remus was posing as “Vivian” again. Only this time, he wore a generic white robe. Hermione had helped choose the robe, and even if it was a generic kind, it still had a soft, feminine approach to it. After purchasing the robe, they made sure it would fit him even after he transformed back to his original form.

While Remus wore a white one, Sirius wore a navy-blue one. Hermione chose that colour on purpose for it brought out the blue colour of Sirius’ eyes. Remus secretly agreed on that. And he was thankful to Hermione and everyone involved with the plan. Now he and Sirius could legally be married. Even if it was taking a long time.

“What’s taking so long? Do the Ministry honestly believe that we want to spend our lives in this room?” Sirius grumbled. “How long does it take for someone like Fudge to say the legal stuff, the couples to sign the documents, and poof, they are done?”

“Sirius,” Remus inwardly grimaced at the high sound of his own voice. “Be patient. They will soon call all of us in.”

“Yes, Sirius. A lot of couples are opting for this style of marriage instead of the old-fashioned ones at the churches. Going to see the Minister of Magic, getting his approval on the legal documents is a lot cheaper than the older ways. Saves a lot of the couples’ money, so I’m sure there are a lot of them ahead of us.” Hermione said, trying to rationalise Sirius’ edginess

Ron jumped up from his chair when he saw that the door was being opened. A Ministry official entered and said, “Sirius? Vivian? Minister Fudge is ready for you now.”

Everyone stood up. On the outside, everyone except Severus looked happy, but inside, they were nervous, worried that the plans wouldn’t go through. Sirius grabbed Remus’ hand and held onto it with his life as they walked stiffly through the hallway to Fudge’s office.

They all soon entered the office, and Fudge stood up from his desk. “Ah, Sirius Black is finally getting married to . . . ” he glanced at the documents, “Vivian. I’m sure you two will be happy together.”

Sirius nodded.

“Shall we carry on with the procedure?” Fudge didn’t wait for any answers as he went on with the legal oath that would bind the two together. After he completed the oath, he pushed forward the document. “Sign here, and then give your bride the ring.”

Sirius signed first. Then Remus did so as well, feeling uncomfortable using a name that wasn’t his. The documents were then signed by the others as proof of witnesses.

“I now can call you two husband and wife.” Fudge clapped his hands. “Now the rings.”

Sirius gently slipped the ring on Remus’ finger. The two shared a poignant kiss. As soon as they separated, Hermione stepped forward and handed Fudge the name-changing certificate. “Minister, sir, Vivian here wants to change her name to something else, and we need your signature here.”

“Ah, not a problem, my dear.” Without looking at the entire form, he signed his name. Then he looked at it closely. “Remus Lupin?”

“That would be correct.” As soon as Sirius said that, he took out his wand and undid the glamorising spells. Remus went back to his original body.

Fudge stared at them in shock, his mouth wide opened. “How, how . . . what in Merlin?!”

“You see, Minister,” Hermione continued, acting as a spokesperson for the group. “We do realise that same-sex marriage is not allowed in the Wizarding world, but we did find a loophole through it. And this was it. Remus here pretended to be a woman just so he could marry his true love. Once that’s done, all we had left was to change Sirius’ bride’s name to Remus Lupin.”

Fudge went red in his entire face. “You cannot do that! It’s not allowed at all!”

“Ah, on the contrary, Minister,” Severus said in his quiet, dangerous voice, making the Minister shrink back down in fear. “It is done, and the only way to cancel out the marriage is if these two ever want to separate. At the moment, the Ministry has no say on it.”

Sirius at that point grabbed the name-changing certificate off of Fudge’s desk, and Remus clutched the marriage certificate tightly in his hands. They all sighed in relief, especially Remus, as they walked out of the office, leaving behind an irate Fudge.

Before they closed the door, they heard Fudge scream out, “The public will know about this!”

“Oh, let them know! I could care less at the moment!” Sirius snapped out.

As they walked through the Ministry to get out of there, other people stared at the group. The ones who had seen them earlier remembered seeing Vivian with Sirius. Now they saw Remus instead, and the whispers of gossip went flying around them. The group ignored everyone, and soon they came outside.

“Wow. We got away with it.” Ron was having trouble breathing as Hermione tried to calm him down.

“For Merlin’s sake, Ron. Sirius and Remus should be the one having a seizure instead of you!” Harry exclaimed.

“But then again, he’s a Weasley, Harry. Weasleys tend to overdo things,” Severus said, ignoring the glare coming from Ron.

“Sirius, Remus, you are going to your honeymoon now, right? Wasn’t it Greece?” Hermione changed the subject quickly.

“Yeah. We have our floo connected to the Greek’s version of the Leaky Cauldron. We’re all packed now, so we can go there now if we want. After I change out of this robe.” Remus stated. “I am not wearing anything feminine for the rest of my life!”

“That reminds me.” Hermione waved her wand and the ring went back to its original form. “Almost forgot. Anyway, Remus, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad being a woman.”

“I guess,” he admitted. “I sure respect them more. That’s for sure.”

They all laughed with the exception of Severus.

“Well, enjoy your honeymoon, newlyweds.” Harry hugged his godfather. “So does that mean I call you godmother now, Remus?”

“Bloody hell, Harry. You call me that, I’ll hex you!” Remus exclaimed as he hugged Harry.

“Okay, okay.”

“So what’s our agenda tomorrow?” Sirius asked, as they lazed around in the bed of the hotel they were staying at.

“I figure seeing the Temple of Athena would be interesting. And other historical places.”

Sirius pretended to groan. “This is what I get for letting you choose Greece of all place. You and your Greek mythology.”

“Shut up, Sirius,” Remus said, playfully hitting his husband on the side of the head. “You wanted to come here too, remember?”

“Only because you wanted to, Remus.” Sirius rested against the headboard and sighed. “I wonder if the Daily Prophet is having a good time writing our ‘scandal’?”

“Who knows. They probably are. All I know is that I’m sure we gave other gay couples an idea on how to get married now. Unless the Ministry changes the loophole. Even if they did, it will take forever to get it through.”

Sirius tackled his lover and straddled him. Remus gasped out loud. “Sirius?”

“Sod the talking. It’s our honeymoon. And we all know what honeymooners do!” Sirius started to kiss and sucked the tender flesh on Remus’ neck.

“Of course I do; they put honey on their arse and moon it to their lovers.” Remus’ wide smile brought sparkles out of his eyes. “That’s why the name honeymoon came to be.”

Sirius paused in his movement. “That actually makes sense. Should I go get some honey just for that?”

“Don’t you dare!” Remus nudged his hips into Sirius’. “Finish what you started!”

“Your wish is my command. I love you.” Sirius kissed Remus deeply, and they soon forgot all about the Ministry, Vivian, and even the honey.