A/n: Apparently my story decided it wasn't happy with the way the last chapter ended. So here's some more in a new part so you don't have to re-read the previous chapter to get it. I also changed Hermione's name from Hermione Grainge to Mione Gibbons, so heads up for that. Britpicking would be much appreciated.

"What?" Remus blurts. 

"What do you mean, what?" Mione asks, seeming baffled.

"I mean...I don't know what I mean, actually," Remus admits. "I suppose it's the shock of hearing that DOVH," Mione's eyebrows fly up. Remus waits to see if she has anything to say, but she waves him on, "err, that DOVH is restarting, when really, it shouldn't have been closed in the first place."

"Mm," Mione commiserates. "I understand that. But there's something more to it, isn't there?"

Twelve years hasn't dulled Mione's perspicacity any. "Astute as always, Mione," Remus smiles weakly. "I, err..."

"You're worried about Harry."

Remus closes his eyes. It sounds so...clean, when she puts it like that. As if his stomach hasn't just knotted, his heart given a painful squeeze, his mood taken a nosedive at the mere mention of Harry's name.

"Yes," he breathes, "I'm worried about Harry."

A small hand covers his. "I understand," Mione says softly. "I feel the same way."

He looks up at her to see she's worrying her lip again. She meets his gaze steadily enough, however, offering him a weak smile.

"I can't promise that he won't explode when he sees us, because, well, Harry," she says, earning a weak chuckle from him. "But I can promise you won't be alone, either. Harry was rather displeased with me the last time we were together."

"What?" Remus says, before his brain catches up with him. "He can't possibly blame you for not seeing what was coming. Does he?"

Mione ducks her head. "That was the general gist of his anger, yes," she admits. "But I'm sure that he'll come around, especially for you," she adds, looking at him beseechingly. "I mean, even he could see the strain the mission was putting on you, only he didn't know what he could do about it except work harder to try to find the Horcruces sooner, get them destroyed faster, so you wouldn't have to spend any more time absolutely miserable than you had to. But that just made it worse, didn't it?"

She peers at him where he's staring at his hands. He doesn't know what to think. At the time, he had thought... "I..." he starts, then stops. So many things are whipping through him, he can't – he doesn't know what he's feeling. Only that it's huge and that he doesn't want to, can't, have it burst out with anyone else looking.

Speaking of Mione, she's saying, "It's all right, Remus. Whatever it is, it's all right. You couldn't have known, because Merlin knows Harry is awful at expressing his feelings except when he's angry. I can't begin to tell you how many times I've told him he has got to be better at not bottling everything up, but that man, oh!" She makes a motion like she wants to strangle someone, presumably Harry.

Remus laughs, weakly, but still a laugh. "Thank you, Mione," he says. "Not just for..." For telling him. For still knowing how to make him laugh when he was overwhelmed. For being there for him when everything was falling down, and even Lily couldn't help him. For coming to find him. Everything, really.

Mione clearly hears what he's trying to say, as her frustration softens. "You're welcome, Remus." She squeezes his hand. "Really, though, think about it. Coming with me, I mean. If only so you can have it out with him for being so stupid, or having the emotional range of a teaspoon."

He laughs again. "Tempting, Miss Gibbons. Very, very tempting."

"I thought you might like that," Mione says with a grin. "I'll be going in again next week, Thursday, so send me an owl before then, let me know. Even if it's a no, I'd love to hear from you again."

His laugh fades into a smile at the sincerity in her voice. "I will," he says truthfully. "It really was good to see you again."

"Yes, you too – oh!"

Remus startles, looks around to see what made Mione gasp. "Bugger," he says, with no real inflection.

Sirius doesn't take his pale, pale eyes from Mione, but his mouth curves into a mirthless smile. "'Lo, Gibbons," he drawls, every inch of his purebred upbringing coming out in force. Remus hates it. "Can't imagine," Sirius continues, "what's brought you to us on this fine day."

"I'm sure you have your own ideas, Mr Black," Mione returns, her voice cool. When Remus looks at her, her face is composed, almost serene. "We were just finishing up, anyhow."

"Yes, she was just leaving." Remus gets to his feet, offers Mione his arm. "Bloody unfortunate timing, wasn't it?" he says, low.

"Not for him, I suspect," Mione quips wryly.

Remus bites back the chuckle. No, not for him.

They arrive at the door. Mione turns back to him after she's gone out, catching his eyes with a meaningful look. "For what it's worth, Remus, I think you made the choices you needed to. You may have had unfortunate timing," her mouth quirks up at the corners, "but I'm glad you did. Now," her tone turns brisk, "don't forget, I'm to get your owl before Thursday, next week. After that, I expect we'll have lunch sometime. Bring your guard dog if he insists."

She presses a kiss to his cheek and is away, clacking her way down his porch to the sidewalk. Remus waits until she's turned on her heel and Disapparated before he closes the door and comes face to face with Sirius.

"So," Sirius begins, his tone as stiff as his body language, "that was a surprise."

"For me as well as you," Remus says, keeping his groan to himself. "She didn't tell me she was coming to visit."

Sirius's jaw sets. "Is that all she wanted to do, visit?" he asks, sharp despite the visible effort to keep the anger in. "Or was she offering to take you away again, have you act all squirrelly and miss half of Harry's life before James's death, or half the Order meetings about, what was it now, oh, yes, fighting Voldemort?"

Remus feels his hands curl into fists. "There's more than one way to skin a basilisk, you know. I was doing my part for the war, too."

"Oh, yeah?" Sirius challenges. "Then how come you never told us what you were doing? Even when Dumbledore asked, you fobbed us all off with 'I'm sorry, I can't, I'll tell you when I can.' But you never did, did you? Now you're going to go back and do exactly what you did before!"

"I haven't made my mind up whether I am or not," Remus says, struggling to stay calm. "And no, I never did tell you, because I couldn't. I still can't."

Sirius gives a growl of frustration. "You're already starting. It's been over ten years, Moony, since James and Lily died. Ten years since the war ended, and you still won't tell me."

"You're being unfair," Remus says. His voice sounds calm, at least, even if anger is a slow burn heating the bottom of his stomach. "If I could have told you, I would have the instant I got the say so."

"Ohh," Sirius rounds on him, his eyes flashing. "So you're letting someone else control when you can and can't say things? Never thought you'd be a whinging, sniveling coward. You probably scuttled in Gibbons' wake doing whatever she told you, didn't you? Bet she thought that was the highlight of her 'work,' having a werewolf as her plaything."

That. Is. It. "That's enough out of you," Remus snarls. His first hex hits Sirius in the legs, sending him toppling over onto the floor. "I don't care what you or anybody else says," he throws another jinx, orange sparks plowing into Sirius's stomach, "about me, but you do not speak badly of Mione Gibbons. She has more courage and dedication," he ducks under Sirius's return hex, hears something crack behind him, "in her little finger than either of us has in our whole bodies – ah," he hisses when Sirius's next spell sails into his arm, thankfully not his wand arm, "and you think you can insult her to my face?"

Sirius dodges Remus's next spell, but he had anticipated that. Sirius freezes in place, his mouth opened wide around the syllables of his hex, pale eyes tracking Remus's move with wild fury.

"There's a lot of things I'll tolerate from you, Padfoot," Remus finishes, "but I will never, ever let you speak ill of one of my friends. I thought you would have known that, being one of those friends yourself, but evidently, I was wrong."

He spins on his heel and flings the door open. Ignoring the cheery "oh, hello, Remus!" the next-door neighbor offers him, he slams the door shut and stalks down to the sidewalk. From there, he doesn't care where he goes, he just needs to get out, get away from Sirius and his utter arsehole behavior, get somewhere where he can calm down and think. A lot of information has been dumped on him today, and right now he can't handle the high level of maintenance Sirius requires.

So he lets his feet take him where they will, and heaven help whoever gets in his way.

(...All right, so he doesn't actually mean that. He does need space to himself, however, and he won't apologize for that. No matter who gets angry at him for it.)