Attacks like those at Fortescue's became a near daily occurrence. Wizarding officials from the Ministry were constantly disapparating to the latest places where Death Eaters had struck. The place was always marked by the glowing smoke of the Dark Mark, hovering high in the sky above the kill, a terrible green omen of death and ruin.

People were becoming afraid to go just about anywhere, and it showed. Sirius could see it in the silence of the once bustling streets of Diagon Alley, which he flew his motorbike to each morning to work. Those who were in the streets moved quickly and glanced at Sirius suspiciously. He might've been offended but they looked at each other that way, too, and some of them were so jumpy that he imagined they looked in the mirror that way as well.

"They locked me up for being scared of the Grim," Bilius said, shaking his head as he and Sirius worked in a large garden north of London, chucking gnomes over a high fence. "Rich, innit? Now that they're all afraid of omens, nobody's being locked up for being paranoid now, are they?"

Sirius carefully concentrated on his gnome.

"Sayin' I'm crazy," muttered Billius, letting fly a fat gnome who shrieked as he soared over the fence, "Well they're the crazy ones now."

"You aren't crazy, mate," Sirius replied. "At least, not in a bad way."

Bilius chuckled. "You've always got just the words to say, don't you, Sirius Black?"

"I'm a particularly well spoken sonuvabitch, yes," Sirius nodded, grinning.

The work of degnoming was back breaking, despite it's easiness, and the heavy gloves that they wore to protect from gnome bites were thick and made of dragon hide so that they made Sirius's palms sweaty and sticky by the end of the day. He would knot his hair up in a big bun at the top of his head because that was the only way to keep the stands of it from sticking to his neck as rivulets of sweat ran down in beaded trails from his scalp. He and Bilius took turns using the aquamenti charm to cool each other off, spraying torrents of cold water at each other as they worked.

Sirius was finding Bilius to be excellent company, and although he talked entirely too much about the myriad of children that the Weasleys were popping out every other year, Sirius thought that Bilius might just be one of his best mates - possibly his best mate outside of the Marauders, of course. Possibly, he thought, even better than Peter Pettigrew.

"REDUCT---"

"If you bloody finish that spell, I'll blast you back into the Founders' Age," James said, reaching out and grabbing Sirius's wand arm, rolling his eyes. "I swear, you're an idiot."

Sirius grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief, and pulled his arm out of James's grasp, slipped his wand through the knot of hair at the back of his head, and held up his palms in surrender. "You promise, though?" he asked.

James shook his head, "You'd enjoy a good blasting from me far too much, Black."

Sirius opened his mouth to reply, but at that exact instant Remus cleared his throat.

"Even your boyfriend knows it," James chided.

Peter puffed and lowered the shovel in his hands. "Is anyone else going to help me dig this stupid hole at all?" his forehead was covered with sweat and as they all turned to hear his complaint, a giant droplet slid across his face and fell from the tip of his nose. "Seriously, make the fat kid do all the hard work, why don't you?"

"I'm just giving you a head start is all, Wormy," Sirius answered, and he sat himself down on a pile of firewood, stretching out so he was laying across it, heavy booted feet hanging limp over the sides as he propped his head up on his leather jacket. "Once I join in, I'll be a digging machine. I'll be digging circles 'round you. You'll see." He closed his eyes.

"Yes, circles," Peter rolled his eyes.

James chuckled and took up one of the other shovels, lifting it to hammer into the wall of dirt before them. Barely any progress had been made on the digging of the cave that would lead out into the woods, despite the fact that the four of them had been there, in the basement, working on it nearly all day. That morning, James had imagined rather ambitiously, picturing them having a good smoke in the shack they'd built at the end of their proposed tunnel, enjoying the fruits of their hard work. But here it was, probably already nearing dark outside he reckoned, and they'd barely chunked out a six foot area. Remus couldn't even have stood up straight in the hole they'd carved.

"It's alright, Pete," James said, winking to Peter, who was glancing with annoyance back at Sirius's lounging body. "Sirius just doesn't want to admit he doesn't know how to dig."

"Of course I ruddy know how to dig," Sirius said, half opening one eye, "What kind of complete idiot doesn't know how to dig? It isn't as though it's rocket science, is it now?"

"Seems like a digging machine would want to get in on the ground level so he could brag about how he built the tunnel all on his own."

Sirius snorted, "If you're trying to reverse psychology me into digging the whole damned thing my self, then you're mad."

James shrugged. "It's alright, Sirius. I wouldn't worry about how weak it looks to not even be helping. I'm sure Remus doesn't mind he's married to a twat."

Sirius sat up.

"Do you mind, Rey?" James asked.

Remus shrugged, "I've always known what he is. Why expect anything different now?"

"Excuse me," Sirius spoke up, looking between James and Sirius, "But... I do believe shit is pouring out of your mouths."

James laughed, then turned back to the job of digging. Peter, who'd never paused, was working on chipping out a rather large rock and it tumbled out of the earth with a loud thump, making Peter jump back from the hole in surprise. He stared at it a moment, then looked up at James. "Hey," James said, "Look - Peter's rock and roll."

Sirius snorted with amusement at the pun.

"At least I'm not a layabout!" Peter said, taking offense to the snort.

Sirius, who had been about to lay back down over the pile of wood, sat back up and his eyes locked on Peter's. They stared at one another rather intensely for several long seconds - unnoticed by James, who had turned back to digging. Remus raised an eyebrow in concern. "Sirius," Remus murmured quietly, in a slightly warning tone.

Suddenly Sirius leaped forward off the wood and Peter let out a shriek, diving to the ground and turning into a rat, scurrying across the floor and into the wood. Mid-air, Sirius turned into Snuffles and flew headlong into the dirt they'd been excavating. James jumped out of the way as the dog began tearing and pawing at the dirt with vigor, having much greater success with his paws than either James or Peter had been having with their half-hearted shoveling.

Remus stood up as the rat ran into the pile of wood, disappearing between the logs, his wand hand thrust into his pocket, concern in his eyes. James saw Remus's hand relax, releasing his wand from his grip, and pulling his hand back out, looking a bit surprised at himself for the instinctual reach. Remus sat back down in the chair the lads had conjured for him.

Dog and rat both doing their own thing, James leaned his shovel against the wall and walked over to Remus, setting himself down on a small ottoman that Remus's leg with the bum knee sat upon. Remus was focused on his knee now, rubbing at it as though it were aching terribly, and staring at the fabric that covered it with an intensity that James knew was not about his slacks.

"You alright, Moony?" James asked quietly.

Remus shrugged. "Aside from nearly blasting my husband? Sure."

"You wouldn't really have blasted him," James said, nudging Remus's shoulder.

Remus looked up. "I was ready to."

James replied, "Yeah, but you wouldn't have."

Remus sighed and sat back. "Pulling my wand shouldn't be my first response in small squabbles," he said. Then, "I don't know. I feel like I'm always on high alert, always ready to blast somebody."

James said, "You're angry."

"I don't know."

"I've been there, Moony. I've been exactly where you are. I'm telling you. You're angry. You're hurt and you're angry and you don't understand why things always are happening to you. Ned was more than just a school teacher to you - he was your family." James glanced at Sirius, then back to Remus, "Sirius doesn't understand, I don't think. He doesn't realize you loved Ned the way he loves me."

Remus's eyes filled with tears suddenly, and he swiped at them with his wrist. "Merlin," he muttered.

"It's alright to be angry. It is. But you've got to let it out, too." James paused, then added, "Just don't loose the Moony we love in the process of getting all out."

"Thanks Prongs," Remus said, a smile slipping over his lips.

James smiled, too, and ruffled Remus's hair, then got back up and took up his shovel. "Oi," he said pushing the dog to one side, "C'mon Digging Machine, let's see what you've got!"

In the end, James decided that not everything had to be done the muggle way and they magicked their way through digging the tent - which pleased Sirius quite a bit as he flung reductos at the rocks that got in the way time to time. Peter finally came out of hiding, though he did not turn back into himself until they'd reached the end of the tunnel and they were beginning to push open the earth below the little shack they'd built, far off into the woods behind the house. A few last spells and some protective charms later and the four of them were in the little shack, which was really no more than a protective room.

That night, they built a fire a little ways off from the shack, and sitting on blankets they'd conjured, they sat roasting sausages on sticks and laughing long into the night. The orange glow of the fire cast shadows over their faces, but the good sort of shadows that are cast by happy light. The true shadows lurked further away, though here the four of them felt invincible, young, and carefree. Their laughter rang through the trees long into the night.