The moonlight glinted off the surface of the lake as Sirius shrugged out of the rags that had been his only clothing since escaping Azkaban nearly a year ago. He stretched luxuriantly, able almost to feel the cool, silver light washing over his naked body.

I'll never wear those bloody things again, he thought, giving the pile a contemptuous kick.

He could barely bring himself to touch them. But he knew that he could not just leave them lying about to be found by anyone who happened by. With a sigh, he transformed to Padfoot and began to dig.

It was a warm, clear June night, and the water felt good against his skin when at last he waded in, hip deep, and then dove under. So long as he stuck to the shadow of the trees, he would not be seen from the castle. He came up spluttering and shaking the water from his eyes.

What he really wanted to be doing tonight was running through the Forbidden Forest by Remus's side - one night together in canine companionship before he had to go back into hiding - but Remus would be deep in the forest by now, and at this time of year, the nights were short. In a couple of hours, he would be a man again, and then Sirius would go to him.

For now, a bath was what he needed most. Lacking a wand, or even soap, he did the best he could, running his hands through his hair and over his body, rubbing away the worst of the grime. Until now, there had been more important things to think about than personal hygiene, but now there was time.

He gargled lake water, swishing it repeatedly in his mouth, trying in vain to remember what it felt like to have clean teeth.

When he was as clean as he could make himself, he swam back and forth a few times, pulling at the water with long strokes, enjoying the feel of it rushing past his body, and the chance to give his muscles a proper stretch.

He changed into Padfoot in the water, and splashed about, paddling in circles. The dog was a strong swimmer, and that skill had saved his life and carried him away from Azkaban, nearly a year past. But what he remembered tonight, trotting up out of the water and onto the bank, shaking droplets of water from his thick coat, was Padfoot's first swim.

He had spent the summer between his fourth and fifth year at Hogwarts working feverishly on the Animagus spell with James. The previous spring, he had finally realised and accepted the power Remus held over him, and it had spurred him to figure out the transformation, once and for all.

He won't ever want me the way I want him, Sirius had thought then. He can't.

He had known the odds were against Remus returning his affections, so he became determined to show the boy his love in other ways.

We'll do this spell, and Remus will never have to be alone again. I can give him that.

He spent most of the month of August with James, living at the Potters' house. During that time, he barely slept - barely ate. James had been surprised by his dedication. Never before had he seen Sirius work so hard on a spell that was not designed to cause hilarity and mayhem.

It had been difficult. There was Divination involved, and Sirius was terrible at Divination. But it was vital to the spell, to show a wizard his true animal form. This, however, was one of the early steps, and they had done it the previous year, guided by Peter, who was better at Divination than all his friends put together. He had showed James and Sirius their animal natures - the stag and the dog - and his own, the rat, as well.

Sirius could not have been more pleased. A dog. A dog to run with the wolf. It was too perfect. But he had just grinned and joined in teasing James that his Animagus form should have been a peacock.

Peter, of course, had been disappointed at first in his own form, but they had joked that size did not matter, and consoled him that there would probably be loads of advantages to being small, like sneaking into the girls' showers and spying on them. James told him to take notes, especially on that Evans girl, who had really started to blossom that year, her skinny frame filling out into womanhood, and distracting James from his studies and all-important pranking.

Once the animal form was discovered, one had only to chew twingeberries - gathered beneath a full moon, ironically, for maximum potency - and concentrate on being the animal. How it would think and feel and move. What it would be like to have hooves or paws or antlers or a tail. What the world would look like through its eyes.

The only problem was that when one was chewing twingeberries, it was nearly impossible to concentrate on anything else. They were nasty, sour, bitter things, and tough as well, and the seeds had a tendency to become stuck between one's teeth.

No matter how much research they put into learning everything they could about the animals they proposed to become, it was not enough. Teenage boys simply did not have the determination and discipline of mind necessary to complete the spell for its own sake. Something more was needed.

And it had been in Remus that Sirius had found that "something more". Seeing him sprawled out on his bed, face pressed against the crumpled page of his Transfiguration textbook, sound asleep, had moved Sirius in a way he had not thought possible. In that moment, he had seen into his own heart, and it had lit a fire under him to figure out the transformation at last.

So it was that in August he had actually made himself spend a week thinking, acting, and living as a dog. The Potters raised their eyebrows, but they were tolerant parents and happy to indulge the best friend of their beloved son in his "game" or "experiment" or whatever other lame excuse he had offered.

The constant stream of twingeberries had soured his stomach and caused his tongue to go numb, but at last, on the seventh night, making a complete and utter fool of himself had finally paid off.

Sitting out in the back garden beneath the waning moon, he was overwhelmed by the sudden urge to howl - not because it was what a dog would do, and so he ought to do it, but because it felt right. He had thrown his head back, and a deep, keening sound had risen from his throat.

When he had lowered his head, James was staring at him, eyes wide with shock. His face had gone white - no, gray - and his clothes were gray and the house behind him was gray, and in fact, there were no colours in the world but gray and black and white.

"James -" he had said. Or tried to.

What had actually emerged from his mouth was a low, barking sound. He tried to turn, to look at himself, and caught a glimpse of a long, plumed tail. He spun around and around in a circle, trying to get a better look at the tail.

He had done it! He began tearing around the garden, barking joyfully.

"Sirius!" James was calling to him. "Sirius, hush! You'll wake Mum and Dad!"

The dog bowled into the boy, knocking him backwards and fetching up with his paws planted on James's chest. He gave his best friend a slobbery lick, knocking his glasses askew and startling a giggle from him, before launching himself into another lap around the garden.

This is so great! he howled up at the silent moon. This is wonderful! This is amazing! I can't wait to show Remus! Remus, Remus, Remus, Remus!

He longed for September and the full moon to hurry up so he could finally give his gift to the young werewolf.

At last, he had worn himself out and trotted back over to where James was standing. James knelt down beside him.

"Can you understand me, Sirius?" he asked curiously.

Sirius barked to indicate that he could.

"Well, I hope so," James said, "because now we have to figure out how to change you back.

The dog shut his mouth and sat down in surprise. He had never really thought about that part of it.

James went into the house and got the book they had stolen from the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library. Remus would have had a fit if he had known they had it. Being in the Restricted Section without permission, he would understand. Removing a book without checking it out properly, he might let slide. But removing Hogwarts property from school grounds - An unforgivable crime, in Remus's eyes.

"It says here," said James, "that all you need to do is remember what it feels like to be human again."

That had seemed easy enough to Sirius. He lay in the grass, and closed his eyes. He thought about standing up on two legs, about having fingers, about not being covered in thick, black fur, about the red and gold of Gryffindor, and about the soft brown of Remus's eyes.

"Oh, good," said James. "You're back."

Once he knew the feel of being the dog, the change became easy for him. He could switch back and forth in a heartbeat, and he was able to begin explaining to James something of what it felt like.

"You need to find the animal that's already in you," he told James. "Not all the stuff in your brain about the eating habits and natural habitat. It's not in your brain; it's in your heart and your balls and your gut and your soul."

He blushed. Like any fifteen-year-old boy, he found it difficult to speak so plainly about such a deeply personal feeling, even to his best friend, but this was important.

"It's in you," he pressed on. "You're already the stag; you just have to find that bit inside, and draw it out until the outside has no choice but to match."

James had listened intently, taking this understanding and adding to it the desire not to be outdone, even by his own best friend. Within three days, he too had experienced life as a quadruped.

In a state of intense excitement, they had invited Peter up for the weekend before school began, and showed him their new abilities. The short boy had not managed the change that weekend, but Sirius had seen the resolve in his eyes. He knew that behind it lay Peter's usual desire to try his damnedest to prove he could do anything James and Sirius could.

He went home again, promising to continue to work on it. And he had done it. By a week into the school year, they had all been able to make the transformation with ease.

Remus, meanwhile, had grown increasingly bewildered, quiet, and miserable at what he perceived as being more or less completely ignored by his friends. Sirius felt guilty about this, but they had all agreed that not a word of their secret was to be breathed to the young werewolf until they were all sure they could do it. So Sirius had waited in relative patience.

The night before Remus's fifteenth birthday, the three of them had sneaked away to discuss how they would reveal their "gift" to him. Skinny-dipping had been James's idea, and Peter, surprisingly, had giggled and agreed at once. It was Sirius who had hesitated, unsure how wise it would be to expose his unpredictable teenage body to Remus's, but at last, he too had consented, knowing that he could escape into the safety of the dog to hide any embarrassing insubordination by his body.

It had also been James's idea to pretend they had forgotten Remus's birthday. Sirius thought this was an unusually cruel idea, but James had talked him into it.

"Think about it, Sirius," he had said. "On all our birthdays, we usually wake each other up with prezzies, first thing in the morning. Well, we haven't got him any prezzies this time; we've got him us, and we're not showing us off until tomorrow night."

The next day was almost as horrible for Sirius as it must have been for Remus. At least Sirius knew the indifference was feigned. But the guilt piled up around him as he caught glimpses of Remus out of the corner of his eye, and through his lashes, a sadder and sadder look in those beautiful eyes.

That evening, they had waited for Remus in the Gryffindor common room. And waited. And waited. And waited.

"Bloody hell!" said James at last, around ten o'clock. "Where is that boy?"

"Dunno," said Sirius, casting a worried glance toward the portrait hole.

"He's probably hiding out in the library," Peter said. "Isn't that where he always goes when he's feeling miserable?"

The three boys exchanged a guilty look before jumping out of their chairs and hurrying from the tower, huddling together so that James could throw the Invisibility Cloak over them.

Remus was, as advertised, hiding in the library. He was alone, and reading by the glow of his wand. At least, it looked like he was reading. As Sirius watched, he thought he saw a single tear slide down the boy's nose to land on the open page before him. Remus sniffed and blotted the page with his sleeve.

Sirius's throat tightened. He could not stand it any longer. He threw off the cloak and went to the startled boy.

"Sirius, what are you -?" Remus began.

But then James and Peter were there as well, grabbing him by the arms and hauling him out of his seat.

"C'mon, birthday boy!" James declared. "We're going swimming!"

Sirius cast Remus an apologetic half-smile and shrugged. James threw the cloak over the four of them, and they made their clumsy yet relatively quiet way out of the library, through the corridors, down the stairs and out the castle doors.

It had been unseasonably warm, even for September, and the waxing moon, still a week away from full, was low in the sky, but cast plenty of light for them to see by as they bundled their way down to the lake.

"But - I didn't bring any swimming trunks," Remus protested weakly as they reached the water's edge.

"Don't need any," Peter grinned wickedly, waving a camera in one hand and his wand in the other. "Disrobilius!" The four of them stood, naked as jay birds, their clothing puddled around their feet.

"Hey!" said James, "You said you were practicing that one to use on girls, mate; not against us! I thought we were friends!"

"Into the water, birthday boy!" Sirius had shouted, grabbing Remus's arm and trying to cover how flustered he was at being suddenly naked in the other boy's presence. Remus was staring at him.

He propelled the unresisting boy to the water's edge, and gave him a playful shove. Remus, grinning at last, dove in and swam out a few metres.

"C'mon in, guys!" he called back to them. "I'm sure the giant squid is probably asleep at this hour!"

"Wait until he ducks under," James muttered under his breath, not looking at the others. "Then change. Sirius, you swim out to him and pounce on him when he comes up."

The second Remus's head disappeared under the water, Sirius was on all fours, plunging in. Water streamed and swirled through his thick, black fur as his paws churned furiously beneath him.

When his head broke the surface, Remus had only a split second to register the large, black animal face to face with him, before it plunged him under again.

No, it's too much! Sirius suddenly realised.

He was much heavier as the dog, and had forced Remus down farther than he had intended. He could feel the boy's flailing limbs in the water beneath him, and without a second's thought, he dove down, buried his teeth in an arm, and swam for the surface for all he was worth. Remus came up coughing and spluttering, Sirius gripping his shoulder between his jaws and dragging him back to shore. Sirius had tried very hard to ignore the disconcerting thought that the only thing separating Remus's bare skin from his was his own shaggy fur.

Remus sat on the bank, head bowed, coughing for a full minute. At last, he had looked up, confused, to find himself in the company of a dog, a stag, and a rat, and his friends nowhere to be seen.

"Sirius?" he called out, looking nervously at the large dog. "James? Pete? Where the hell are you guys?!"

Sirius could not resist. He padded forward and licked the boy from chin to forehead.

"Hey!" Remus giggled, batting ineffectually at the dog.

But his hand came down on the bare skin of a human shoulder. Sirius grinned at Remus.

"What the fuck -?" Remus looked up, utterly confused, to see Peter and James grinning down at him as well.

"It's your birthday present," Sirius explained. He shifted briefly back and forth again. "We're all Animagi. We did it for you - for full moons. So you wouldn't have to be alone."

Remus sat, his mouth hanging open. In his eyes, Sirius saw the look of disbelief change to amazement as James and Peter transformed once more and drew nearer to him.

"Happy Birthday, Moony," Sirius said softly, and shifted again.

Remus sat on the grass, speechless, surrounded by animals. His mouth opened and closed as if he were trying to remember how to speak.

At last, he said, "Sirius - you guys - this is amazing! You did this for me?" His voice had cracked and, unexpectedly, he had flung his arms around the dog's neck, burying his face in the thick fur. "Thank you," he whispered, so softly that only Sirius could hear him. From the soft sounds he was making, Sirius could not be sure if he was laughing or crying or both.

I'm never going to be able to top this gift next year, Sirius remembered thinking. He laughed softly as he lay on the same patch of grass almost twenty years later.

He remained a while longer, watching the eastern horizon begin to glow pink, and remembering the rest of that night, wondering if Remus had kept any of the photographs.

It had felt almost unreal; one of those perfect nights of which one's youth is meant to be composed, but which so rarely happen in reality. They had swam and splashed about and laughed and posed for silly photos until they were all exhausted. Sirius was amazed to find that, as a dog, Remus had no compunction about touching him, despite his nudity, and he had happily played the exuberant puppy, pouncing, licking, and nuzzling with impunity.

I could get to like this, Sirius had thought. He had considered making the change permanent, and living out his life as Remus's pet. At least we could be together then, he thought with longing.

Back in their dorm room, as dawn had approached and the air had filled with the gentle sound of James's snoring and the less gentle sound of Peter's, Sirius and Remus had sat on the latter's bed, laughing quietly. They were still drunk on the heady, magical feeling of the night, and were leaning together in one of those rare moments of intimacy sometimes shared by close friends late at night.

"Isn't this great?" Sirius had said, staring at Remus's hand resting on the bed, and idly wondering what would happen if he just took it. "Now we can have a secret, too. No one will ever know we all have alter egos."

"It's wonderful," Remus agreed. "I never thought I would say this, but I'm almost looking forward to the full moon. I - I think it will be good for the wolf. To have friends."

Sirius knew Remus did not like talking about the wolf, so he changed the subject.

"We should all have code names. You already have one, but the rest of us need them, too."

"What shall I call you, then?" asked Remus obligingly, resting his head on Sirius's shoulder.

"Why don't you name me, Moony?" Sirius had suggested, his exhaustion allowing a note of unguarded affection to slip into his voice. "It's only fair; I named you, after all."

He was gratified by the genuinely touched look on Remus's face. "I think I'll call you -" He had looked at Sirius consideringly. "You're 'Padfoot'," he said at last, with a nod of satisfaction.

"Why 'Padfoot'?" Sirius asked sleepily.

Remus lay back on his bed and closed his eyes. "Because," he said in a dreamy voice, "when I was little, back even before I was bitten, I used to dream about a big black dog who would come and keep me safe and play with me, and his name was Padfoot."

Sirius had felt his heart squeeze. "I'd be honoured to be Padfoot for you, Moony," he said.

But Remus was already asleep.

Sirius got up quietly, turning toward his own bed, but then he had hesitated. Bending over the sleeping boy, he had kissed him very gently on the forehead. A tiny smile had curved Remus's lips in his sleep.

"Happy Birthday, Moony," Sirius had whispered, and then he had gone to seek his own troubled dreams.

Sirius, lying naked by the lake, smiled at the memory. There were so many things he had forgotten, or simply been unable to remember, while he was in Azkaban. But now they came to his call, and he could remember even the smallest details once more. He reveled in such memories.

Dawn was breaking. It was time for him to go and find Remus at last, and find out what the future might hold. He shifted forms and padded off in the direction of the Shrieking Shack to find his mate.

~ THE END ~