James followed Sirius up the stairs of the all women-occupants building that Marlene and Emma's flat was on the top floor of. James had never visited Em and Marlene at home before, and was surprised to find some of the girls on lower levels had hung their laundry out to dry on the railings overlooking the stair well in front of their flats so that he and Sirius were climbing the stairs with brassieres flying like flags. James turned a bit red and tried not to look, and Sirius laughed, turning back to look at James, mocking, "You've seen plenty of these things by now, surely, with a Prongslet on the way..."

"Yes but they were all Lily's," James said.

At the top, Sirius knocked rapidly on the door, standing on his tip toes to peer into the small peephole in the door. He couldn't see anything, of course, but it always got him the same reaction when he did it.

The door opened up, "Sirius Black nobody wants to look out their peephole and see the inside of your nostril!" Marlene said.

Sirius grinned, "You love my nostril, rather!"

"I most certainly do not," Marlene replied.

Sirius grinned.

"If you're here about your leather jacket, I was going to return it in the morning," she said. "Although I ought to keep it - as payback for the Polaroid camera."

"You wouldn't dream of it," he said.

James cleared his throat and Marlene looked up in surprise, spotting him. "James. Hi. What are you doing here?"

"Wow, what a way to say hi, Miss Manners!" Sirius said.

James said, "What Sirius isn't doing so well at explaining is that we're here in account of an emergency... We sort of need Em."

"Sirius's leather jacket is hardy an emergency..."

"It's Remus's friend, Spencer," James interrupted Marlene's laughter, "He's been accidentally poisoned and St. Mungo's turned him away. We're hoping Em can help us."

"What's wrong with Spencer?"

The door was opened wider and there was Emma and Lula before them. Lula's eyes were red from crying, her hair half down from the lovely Grecian-goddess updo that she'd had it styled in all night at the party. Marlene was wincing, and Emma looked worried. It was Lula, though, who had asked what was wrong.

James glanced at Sirius, and Sirius said, "Food poisoning. Obviously." He cleared his throat. "Em - a word, perhaps?"

"Is he alright?" Lula asked.

"He'll be grand soon enough," Sirius answered, putting on the sunshine as Emma extricated herself from the cluster of girls and stepped into the hallway as James stepped back from the door.

"Are you sure?" Lula asked.

"I mean, he's probably still sopping off after you doused him with that lemonade," Sirius chuckled, "But otherwise --"

Lula looked upset and she turned and ducked back into the depths of Emma and Marlene's flat. Marlene sighed heavily, "We just got her calmed down," she said.

"Yes well," and Sirius lowered his voice, "Spencer hasn't got food poisoning but actual fucking poisoning. Aconite," he clarified, looking to Emma, whose eyes widened and jaw dropped.

Marlene looked at Emma and back at Sirius, then said, "I'll go talk to Lu." She turned and ducked back into the flat.

Emma looked between Sirius and James the moment the door had closed, "Aconite poisoning, but that's extremely serious. Very toxic stuff. You lot need to get him to Mungo's immediately and --"

"Mungo's refused to treat him," James interjected, shaking his head. "They said that they can't do anything for him without the use of magic and the statute would be broken, then they shooed us away, sent us to another hospital - a muggle hospital. They've got him stabilized for now but the aconite can have 60 hours effect on him and they can't do anything else but let whatever happens happens..."

"They refused to treat him?" Emma was incredulous. She frowned, "That's not right. That's not right at all, it's a magical malady... Aconite is --"

"A common plant to both wizards and muggles alike," James said, "That's what they said when they sent us away, at least."

Emma was shaking her head in denial.

"Do you know how to help?" Sirius asked.

"How on earth did he get aconite poisoning at the Halloween party?" Emma asked.

"It was in one of the potions kits," James lied quickly, "He mistook it for mint leaves and -- well I don't know what he was thinking but here we are."

"Remus is a right fit," Sirius added, "We've got to be able to help him somehow."

Emma looked frustrated, "I - I'm sorry, I don't know. I mean, aconite is quite a strong plant... I know bezoars won't help. The plant attacks too fast, the poison doesn't stay in it's liquid form long enough for the bezoar to be of help - they absorb poison and aconite dissolves into the blood stream within seconds.

"Yes we noticed," James murmured.

"I can pop by St. Mungo's and see if I can pry it out of anyone there what sort of procedure they might recommend in such a situation, but I can't promise that it'll work," Emma suggested. "I may not know how to perform whatever it is."

"It's worth a shot," James said.

"Oh and Em?" Sirius said, "Get my jacket from Marly for me, will you? It's a bit nippy out."

Emma got the jacket and then went to change to go to Mungo's to do her research and the lads rushed back down the stairs to the road to disapparate away to Grimmauld Place. Within minutes, they were emerging from the alley that ran behind the row of houses, dusting off, and glancing about as they crossed into the square. The night had gotten on by then and though most of the stoops were still lit up in welcome, there were no trick or treaters on the square any longer. The evidences of them were there, however - footprints on the path, and lost sweets here and there or else the wrappers from ones that had been consumed. One of the houses had hung a festive plastic skeleton up, and another had lined their stoop with grinning pumpkins that shone in the dark.

Sirius couldn't help but glance at Number 12, in spite of himself, and think how much more terrifying that house was compared to the others, even without the decorations. It loomed large and forbidding and he felt his stomach lurch.

Gods, what he wouldn't give for a cigarette right about then. He wanted one so badly he felt his fingers twitch into position as though he were holding one, his forefinger and middle finger extended with a slight gap between his knuckles as though one were resting there. He could almost taste the tar-like flavor and the nicotine... He shivered with the addiction of it and was thankful he didn't have any on him then or he might have broken his promise to Lily.

James put a palm on Sirius's shoulder. It was meant to be comforting, but Sirius could feel James's worry and distaste for the place, too, then. Grimmauld Place held traumatizing memories for more than just Sirius, after all, as flashes of teal hair and desperate escapes filled James's thoughts.

Sirius turned away from his childhood home, bitter, and started walking through the square. He pointed at the bench, "That's where I first saw Spencer Stewart drawing," he said. "Right there, he was sitting and drawing and I was watching from the attic, about to catch hell for helping him out when the bullies came. Mother really laid it on that day, and any other time she caught me at muggle watching... though I generally was careful not to let her catch me at it."

"I'm sorry she did, Sirius," James said.

"I realized in the juxtaposition how wrong they were - my parents - for being anti-muggle. I wouldn't be who I am today if it wasn't for Spencer."

James followed Sirius as he walked. "Sure you would. You have a good heart. You would have figured it out on your own, eventually."

"Would I?" Sirius shrugged. "What about the Black in me? The genes are strong."

"Of course," James said confidently. "The good in you would have won out."

Sirius said, "Sometimes even now their words haunt me and I have to suppress them. I still make poor decisions influenced by the sound of her voice in my head. Her and the Shementor."

"Achlys?" James asked.

Sirius nodded.

"Does she still bother you?" James asked gently. "You seemed to be doing much better."

Sirius shrugged. "Do your demons still haunt you?"

"I suppose they always will."

Sirius nodded.

They'd come across the square by then and stopped before the only other house that had no light on over the stoop - the one that belonged to Spencer Stewart's grandfather. It seemed to loom, too, the same as Number 12 had, and Sirius wondered if it was a side effect of the rich blood, a side effect of cold disconnected families. Their houses grew emotionally larger.

James drew a deep breath, and he strutted across the street with all the confidence of a boy who had never been afraid to go home.

What's that like? Sirius wondered.

James climbed the steps up to the stoop quickly and turned to watch Sirius coming up the steps. Sirius followed and came to a stop next to James, who rapped on the door with his knuckles. The knock sounded hollow and empt, and both boys stood, waiting for some indication of a reaction from inside, but none came. The windows stayed dark and the stoop felt even colder and emptier, the house more looming, to Sirius, as James boldly leaned over the stone wall and peeked into the windows, hands cupped around his eyes for clarity.

"Doesn't look like anybody's home," James said. "Actually, doesn't look much like anybody's been home in some time."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "What, like, it's unoccupied?"

"Well it's furnished but there's dust covers on everything."

Sirius hesitated, then, glad he had gotten his leather jacket back from Marlene, he pulled our his pocket knife. "Well then... Maybe grampa has some contact info for Spencer's family inside."

James nodded and spun about to block Sirius from any watchful eyes as Sirius slid the pocket knife into the door jam, and a moment later said, "There we are."

The door swung open and Sirius stepped inside, followed by James, who whistled innocently and tucked his hands in his pockets, stepping backward through the doorway as though he were doing it half on accident, eyes scanning the square for any onlookers.

Remus sighed and dropped his book onto his chest, running his fingers over his eyes, slouching in his chair in the waiting room. "What d'you reckon is taking Sirius and James so long?" Remus asked, nervousness in his voice.

"Dunno," Lily replied, sounding an awful lot like her husband.

Funny how married couples start to sound and look a bit alike after a time, Remus thought, and he wondered if he was starting to look and sound a bit like Sirius, too.

Lily looked Remus over - he looked utterly exhausted and cold even with the two jumpers he'd replaced his cowboy shirt with. "You have a headache," she observed. She could feel it, vague and far off like a memory of a head ache, through the love magic.

"Yeah," he murmured.

"Here." Lily dug out a vial of potion from her purse. "Take this, you'll feel better."

"I don't reckon I deserve to feel better," Remus murmured miserably.

Lily replied, "You do. Please take it, Rey, love.."

He took the vial, thumb running over the stopper.

"Take it for me if nothing else," she pressed gently, "If you've got a head ache then so do I." Remus nodded and pulled the stopper, drinking the potion in a quick gulp, making a face at the taste of it. "Thanks, sweetie," Lily said, smiling.

If it took reminding him of that every time, at least she could get him to take care of himself one way or another.

He sighed and disappeared the vial with a squeeze of his palm - a small thing that was still rather impressive magic, and Lily was reminded for about the millionth time the incredible power that Remus held in the palm of his hand. Literally.

"Did you find anything that could help Spencer?" she asked hopefully. She didn't particularly want to share what she was thinking yet.

Remus shook his head. "Nothing agreeable."

She had a feeling he was likely finding the same answer she was.

"Me either," Lily lied. She turned back to the book, running a palm over her stomach. She could feel the starting strains of morning sickness turning within her. Or maybe it was nerves. Or a brutal combination.

She wondered how she would ever handle it with Harry when she was so worried over someone she didn't even know, and hadn't even met until he was passed out on the floor of Remus and Sirius's flat? If Harry was anything like his father - and she already knew he was a great deal like James in looks, at least - then she was going to be facing a lot of bruises, cuts, and falls from quidditch brooms... She thought fleetingly of the time James snapped his wrist coming down from the sky... She could still hear the cracking bone in her memory and she bristled at the thought of any one of the tiny bones being knit together in her belly at that moment ever being broken.

Oh gods, Harry, I want to protect you from the world, she thought, heart tightening.

"Lily?"

She looked up. Remus was staring at her and she realized she'd been wincing at the thought of her baby suffering any sort of injury.

"Are you alright?"

Lily nodded, rubbing her wist with a phantom of pain. "I'm alright. I'm just worried, love."

Remus nodded.

"Remus," she said gently, "There's one thing that keeps coming up that - that might be an answer..."

Remus met her eyes.

The venom of a werewolf may prove most effective when combating accidental overdose of the aconite leaf. The book pressed to his chest had suggested unhelpfully, But one must weigh carefully whether life is worth preserving in a lycanthropic state. The quality of life for the patient must be considered before administrating the supposed "cure". Many witches and wizards would consider themselves better off accepting the effects of the aconite than being subjected to the transformation.

"No," he said firmly, "That is not an option."