Author's Note: I wrote this story in 2007 (!) for my friend Kat's birthday. I've since lost touch with her, but I think this story is still of my favourite things I've ever written. Other credit goes to Amanda for being such a dear as to help me with school uniforms, Sixth Form, pastries, Lupin's Tasty Oven and decimalisation, and to Liv for answering my daft question about hostels.

There may or may not be several references to the most brilliant film ever. I deny consciously slipping them in.

paragon, noun: a person or thing regarded as a perfect example of a particular quality and a person or thing viewed as a model of excellence.

Paragon

'Twat,' James said, affectionately almost, as he pushed against Sirius. Sirius's grin remained plastered on his face, though, even as he shoved James back and James's shoulder collided with a wall.

It's all there is to it, really; Sirius and James are Sirius and James, ties done up even if their shirts aren't tucked in, and James's messy black hair remains a mess, however much he combs it. They're making their way back home from Tamworth, their shit-hole of a school, and Sirius was just telling James about Olivia.

'We did have an amazing conversation about Geography. I even managed to do some exploring, if you will,' Sirius said. James rolled his eyes, but remained eager, muttering, 'Bet she loved that, didn't she?', at which Sirius only laughed.

They kept mucking about, half-heartedly exchanging insults even as Sirius pulled his jumper over his head, saying it was far too hot to wear the things, anyway. A shout snapped them both to attention, and they halted in front of the local park, glancing at each other.

'Cor, Black –'

'I know, right?' Sirius interrupted him, peering under the trees in an attempt to see what was going on.

They waited a bit longer, but when no other sound came for a while, they walked on. At the entrance of the park, Sirius gave another glance, but couldn't see anything, and shrugged it off as someone having fun.

A couple of days later, as Sirius and James were walking home, discussing the best way to get that stupid new teacher of theirs – Posner, he was called, and was really that side of annoying – they heard another, quieter shout when they passed the park.

They halted, just as they'd done the day before, and then there was another shout, rapidly followed by another, and James nodded when Sirius turned back to him with questioning eyes. They climbed over the pointy gates sticking out all around the park (there was a road just behind them), landing neatly on their feet, and they didn't have to search long to find what they were looking for.

A group of boys, who looked to be their age, were standing huddled over something that was hidden from view, but Sirius could see that, whatever it was, they weren't treating it very nicely – they were jeering at it, and as they neared, they could make out what they were saying.

'Yeah, Lupin,' the one nearest to them said, his blonde hair lighting up in the sunlight, 'you look like you rolled right out of a charity shop.'

Through the gap of long legs, Sirius could see a boy, who made a small, indignant sound as the boy across him emptied his bag, the contents falling out on the ground, pens scattering everywhere. His left eye was beginning to swell, and his lip was cut, blood dripping quietly out of the corner of his mouth.

Sirius strode forward, all confidence, James right next to him.

'All right, lads,' he drawled, lazily leaning against one of the park benches. 'That's enough.'

The boys all turned, looking around at him. James had appeared by his side now, too, and looked on disapprovingly.

'What, you're going to stop us?' the blond boy said, mockingly. Sirius vaguely recognised him.

He strode over to the boy, easily grabbing him by his shirt and lifting him off the ground. 'Yeah, I think so,' he said coolly. 'Don't you, James?'

The blond boy made a sound that was half a choke half a word. 'Sorry, can't hear you there,' Sirius said happily. It only took one mean punch to the nose for the boy to see sense, and after that, the boys disbanded quickly.

The boy on the ground was quietly collecting his things, and didn't look up when Sirius, who had wiped the blood on his trousers, asked if he was all right.

When he did look up, Sirius noticed he did look rather – well – poor. His shirt was scruffy at the bottom, one edge cut off slightly higher than the other, and his white oxford shirt was streaked with grass stains. The tie that he was wearing had blue in it, although the blue was more white, having probably been washed far too many times.

'I'm sorry,' the boy apologised, his eyes wary. 'I haven't got a lot.'

He threw some gold pounds at Sirius's feet, who opened his mouth indignantly to retort that he hadn't done it for the money, but before he could say so, the boy had rushed off in the opposite direction.

James stood next to him, wiping off his glasses with his tail shirt. 'Well,' he said, slightly awkwardly, 'at least you can buy more fags now.'

'Yeah,' Sirius responded, but when James had turned around, Sirius followed him, leaving the money where it was.

Several days went by without any incidents, and Sirius soon forgot about the boy in the park.

October rolled around. It was uncannily cold, the wind sneaking under his shirt and into his socks (he had on one of James's ratty pairs, which were comfortable, even though James had tried to iron on Led Zeppelin's logo and had failed miserably), so Sirius had decided to wear his proper winter jacket out, the faded leather managing quite nicely to keep him warm.

There was a muffled shout, then, and Sirius raised his head from his History book (they had a test on the couldn't-possibly-have-been-a-virgin queen first thing tomorrow; Sirius found her rather annoying).

Just to his right, in one of the more abandoned alleys, a few boys stood, and Sirius looked at them curiously. They appeared to be occupied by whatever was sitting in front of them, and Sirius felt a pang in his stomach when he recognised blond hair.

'Haven't got your boyfriends to stand up for you now, have you?' one of them said nastily, aiming a swift kick into the stomach of the boy who was lying on the ground, utterly still.

'Au contraire,' Sirius said when he drew near. 'I'm right here.'

The blond boy turned around, and gestured for the rest to hold still as he strode to Sirius confidently. 'What d'you want?'

'For you to stop being such a wanker,' Sirius said, in exactly the same tone, and he saw the boy grimace. 'Why are you doing this, anyway? He looks littler than you.'

'Lupin's a nuisance,' the boy said, as if that explained everything. 'He's a bit of a nancy, if you know what I mean. Does his homework and answers teacher's questions.'

'I recommend you get out of here,' Sirius said. 'Because I'm going to take a swing at your ugly face any moment now, and it's not going to be a nice one like last time.'

'No need,' the boy answered calmly, although his eyes had got a little wider. 'We'll leave you two to kiss and make up. Come on, boys.'

Sirius hit the back of the blond head with his History book when the boy side-stepped past him. The boy lost his balance, slipped, and fell against one of the metal rubbish bins.

'Clumsy,' Sirius noted, and then looked at the other boys, who were angrily advancing on him. 'Oh, jolly, a fight,' Sirius said, before a boy with a slightly hooked nose took a swing at him.

It took a good fifteen minutes. Sirius was sporting what was going to be a rather impressive black eye in the morning and his legs were sore, but he'd always been a good fighter; it came with being a Black and growing up with people like the Duke of Harrington and Lord and Lady Snape's greasy-haired son for company.

The boys scampered off, forgetting to bring to the blond boy, who was still sat against the metal can, dazedly looking about.

Sirius ignored him, instead advanced on the boy lying on the floor. Sirius gently nudged him with his shoe, afraid the boy might throw money at him again if he got too close.

'Lupin?' he asked. The boy remained silent, and when Sirius got to his knees, he realised that the boy was clutching his stomach and breathing like Sirius's Nan had, cigarette-smoking bitch that she was, when she had been on the brink of death.

'Oi, Lupin,' he said again, shaking his shoulder, but Lupin didn't look up at him, his left cheek all swollen, a muddy footprint on his neck, which was streamed with red.

Sirius winced. Lupin looked a sorry sight; he didn't look older than twelve, his slightly too-long dirty blond hair all over the place, matted with a bit of blood to the left.

'Tossers,' Sirius muttered under his breath.

'Come on, then, up you get,' he added, to Lupin; he managed to pull the boy up with some effort, picking Lupin's bag up off the floor and hauling it over his shoulder.

'He's a bit quiet, innie?' James asked, around a mouthful of crisps. 'Mum's been prodding at him for at least an hour and he hasn't said a word.'

Mrs Potter dabbed carefully at the cut on Lupin's cheek with a bit of alcohol, and the boy winced.

'Hasn't said a thank you, either,' Sirius said darkly, while holding up a pack of ice to his left eye. His fingers itched for a cigarette.

'All done, dear,' Mrs Potter said, as she applied a sticking plaster to the cut. 'Try and be a bit more careful, yes?'

Lupin nodded dutifully, before mumbling something about his bag. 'I have it,' Sirius called to him, getting rapidly more annoyed by his lack of thankfulness. 'Come on, Lupin, I'll walk you home.'

He pulled on his jacket, and handed James the ice. 'Thanks for the crisps, Mrs Potter.' He gave a sort of half-wave at James, and waited until Lupin had his coat on before swinging the door open.

'Where d'you live?'

'Above the bakery,' Lupin said quietly, clutching so tightly at his bag his knuckles were turning white. He had been looking at his shoes for the past ten minutes. Sirius thought he was probably the rudest twelve-year-old he'd ever encountered.

'So, you're at Fazeley, then.'

Lupin looked up at him, blinking. Sirius decided he looked odd with a plaster on his nose.

'No, I'm at Tamworth,' Lupin said.

'Your uniform is different from mine,' Sirius pointed out, gesturing to the crest on his jumper (a bird atop a bridge), and then at Lupin's.

'No, it's not,' Lupin said. 'It's just a different colour.'

'Since when do lower years have a different colour uniform?' Sirius demanded, and Lupin shrugged before replying, 'Mine's always been dark blue. Sixth formers wear black ones, like yours.'

'Never noticed the difference,' Sirius said carelessly. Lupin went back to looking at his shoes.

They turned a corner and came straight into the market street, the smell of fish and freshly baked bread overwhelming. Lupin turned to face Sirius, and opened his mouth. Suddenly, Sirius didn't want to hear it.

'No, it's fine. Just – don't get into any more fights, yeah?'

'It's not as if I voluntarily fight with them,' Lupin said, quietly. 'I'll see you, then.'

'Right,' Sirius said, and watched him go.

'Black! Wait up!'

Sirius rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. Next to him, James grinned. 'Can't get enough of you, can he?'

'Please stop,' Sirius told him, as Pettigrew caught up with them.

'Oi!' Pettigrew said, out of breath. Sirius thought it was rather pathetic; he'd only run here from English, half a corridor up.

'Something you wanted?' Sirius asked, and Pettigrew gawped at him.

'It's huge,' he blurted, and Sirius raised an eyebrow. 'I mean,' Pettigrew tried to amend, glancing at his black eye, 'it looks very manly, very –'

'Thank you, Pettigrew. You may slobber over James now,' Sirius said airily, and turned around. Someone ran right into him.

'Watch where you're going,' he snapped, only to look down at a boy with blond hair and a huge, swollen jaw. Sirius was suddenly immensely satisfied with his left hook.

'Black?' the boy repeated.

Sirius glanced deliberately at his watch, then at the boy. 'I'm going to be late for Latin. Move.'

'Yes, right,' the boy said, and scuttled away, a few of his friends in tow, shouting at him to hold up.

James laughed.

'Good afternoon, sir.'

Sirius pulled off his leather jacket and tossed it into the waiting hands of his mum's butler, Conrad.

The hall around him was decorated in the finest, most expensive wood his parents could find. The walls were covered in red leather, whispering of noble blood and titles. Just up ahead was a portrait of his great-great-grandfather Phineas, who'd first received a royal title. His son, Cygnus, had managed to step up in the ranks by stealthily buying off the King; still, Sirius's family reeked of ancient money. His father had taken on the title and was using it to play with political power even now.

'I'd like tea in my room today. I have homework,' was Sirius's response.

'But sir, His Grace the Duke of –'

'Fine,' Sirius cut him off rudely, striding past him. 'Don't forget to bring it up!' he called over his shoulder. Conrad grimaced at him behind his back.

The door to the study was open, but Sirius knocked, and waited for his father's stiff answer before he entered. All around him, it smelled of cigars, which meant his father was in a good mood. That was never a good thing.

'Sirius,' his father said, looking at him neatly through his own grey eyes.

'My Lord Duke,' Sirius responded levelly.

'Take a seat. I've some news.'

Sirius sat in the chair across from his father, back stiff, hands on either of his knees. His father looked pleased when he spoke next.

'It is with deep regret I inform you that Lord Snape's title has been revoked.'

Sirius blinked. 'Might I ask why, Your Grace?'

'It seems he was involved in an, ah,' his father said, folding out a newspaper before him delicately, stroking the black ink that screamed of slander, 'rather unfortunate scandal. I'm assuming you know perfectly well you are not to associate with his son, any longer.'

Sirius nodded once, and was dismissed. Back in his room, he rang James.

'I heard,' James said conspiringly, and Sirius could almost hear him smiling through the telephone, 'Snivelly's dad slept with his secretary.'

'Disgusting,' Sirius said, not at all out of breath, as he passed the ball to James.

'I don't want to think about Snivelly's dad having it off, Black!' James called back, and Sirius laughed when James, no doubt mentally scarred by the images this presented, missed by at least a quarter of a mile.

'You get it,' James said, and Sirius grinned, jogging past him.

The sky had cleared up and it was actually an okay sort of day, weather wise. They were playing footy out; their PE teacher, Henderson, wasn't usually this lenient, but Sirius had said fresh air would do the team good, and no one said no to a Black.

The ball was lying behind a few bushes, just out of reach. Sirius grumbled something about getting his shirt full of brambles again, but managed to get it, anyway.

As he turned back towards the field, he collided with someone, and dropped the ball. 'Nice,' he said dryly, watching as the ball tauntingly slid into the bushes again.

'Sorry,' the awkward response was, and Sirius lifted his eyes only to meet Lupin's.

'Don't worry about it,' he said, glancing at Lupin, satisfied when he found no obvious bruises.

'Haven't got into any more fights, then?' he asked, and Lupin – Lupin actually blushed and mumbled that he hadn't.

Sirius stared at him for a moment before replying. 'That's good.'

He turned around to get the ball, and when he turned back, Lupin was gone. 'Strange,' he muttered, and shouted at James to go fuck himself when he asked what the hell was taking him so long.

'Oh, God, I'm going to cry,' James said, taking off his glasses and rubbing at his eyes. 'I have never studied so much for French in my life.'

James was half-French. His Nan liked eating snails whenever she came over, and Sirius had never let James hear the end of it; that's how they'd met, actually, at one of James's Nan's dinner parties. Sirius, himself, was right and proper French and didn't have to study at all. He was just here to annoy James.

'It's just like Lefebvre to give us a test about all the fucking verbs in the world,' Sirius responded, sitting with his hands behind his head and staring off ahead of him. 'Anyway, if you cry, you know Jones will only laugh.'

Miss Jones was their library assistant. She was prone to giving out detentions for the most normal things (breathing, eating, closing your eyes for just a minute); Sirius and James had once knocked over three shelves worth of books because she'd given Pettigrew detention. They did it more for the sake of it being Miss Jones than for Pettigrew, because Miss Jones had wailed pathetically for almost an hour (the damage was exactly one History book that had been falling apart, anyway), but Pettigrew had hounded them ever since. Especially since Sirius and James had got away with it.

'She's a sadist,' James moaned, and Sirius didn't know if he meant Lefebvre or Miss Jones.

'Go on, Potter,' Sirius said, with a wide grin, 'study some more, make your mum proud.'

'Fuck off,' James said, earning himself a swift hit upside the head with one of Miss Jones's books. James swore, and got another.

'No swearing in the library!' Miss Jones said shrilly, and she gave Sirius a look which made him nod hastily and pretend to work, too.

When Jones had found some different students to harass and James had actually begun studying, Sirius found himself looking up, leaning on his elbow. At the table across him, Lupin sat. Sirius blinked once, surprised, but there he was.

Lupin looked even scruffier than usual, bent over his homework, hair falling over his eyes. Propped up against the desk wood was a Science book, one Sirius recognised vaguely. 'Potter,' he said, elbowing James sharply in the side.

James scowled at his French verbs, but muttered, 'Yeah?' in response, probably afraid Miss Jones was hovering nearby.

'Isn't that Lupin?' Sirius asked, and James looked up.

'Yeah,' James said again, and stared at Lupin much like Sirius was doing now. 'Didn't know he went to Tamworth. He didn't really look it.'

Tamworth was the most expensive school in town. Sirius and James had got in without much effort. Lupin certainly looked out of place in his second hand uniform, even though it looked starched and ironed.

'Yeah, I know,' Sirius replied. 'Think the uniform threw us. Never knew the lower years wore blue.'

'It's more of a navy, isn't it?' James said.

Sirius stared at him for a moment, then started laughing. 'Been decorating with your mum, have you, Potter?'

James's scowl returned and he haughtily went back to studying. Sirius, grin firmly set in place, went back to his book, and didn't notice Lupin looking up at him.

Pettigrew caught up with them just as they were heading to the cafeteria for lunch, much to Sirius's dismay.

'Hello!' he said breathlessly. Sirius nodded only briefly; James actually lowered himself to Pettigrew's level, saying, 'H'lo, Peter.'

'Can I sit with you?' Pettigrew asked, and Sirius had already said no when James said, 'Er, sure.'

Sirius gave James a look. He flushed slightly, but didn't give any other indication of things being out of sorts when they went to get their food.

'Why aren't you sitting with your own friends?' James asked Peter, once they'd sat down. Sirius pretended not to notice the both of them, chewing haughtily on his toast.

'Well,' Pettigrew said, a bit uneasily, 'I haven't got any, really. They don't talk to me anymore after I asked why they were pestering the new boy.'

'There was a transfer this time of year?' Potter asked, not at all disturbed as Sirius got out his own book and noisily propped it open against his bag, pretending to read.

'No, no,' Pettigrew answered, nibbling disgustingly at his apple. 'He transferred at the beginning of the year. He looked nice, but –'

'But what?'

'He's sort of studious,' Pettigrew continued. 'A bit of a bore, really; all he does in class is raise his hand and answer questions. He never talks to anyone, and his uniform is sort of dodgy, like it's the cheap version. The other boys thought he was acting arrogant, so they –'

He paused again. Sirius found his curiosity piqued, and listened in quietly even as he skimmed the text they were supposed to have read for the previous Science lesson.

James leaned in. 'So they what, Peter?' he asked kindly, but Sirius noticed his eyes were narrowed behind his glasses. James had always hated students not getting along with each other and was known throughout the school for keeping things in order; Sirius always insisted that's why he'd been made Head Boy.

'Well,' Pettigrew said again, obviously not wanting to get in trouble for telling something he shouldn't.

'Out with it, Pettigrew,' Sirius said sternly, over the rim of his book, and Pettigrew jumped, having not noticed Sirius was listening.

'Right!' he said, in a slightly high-pitched voice. 'See, the new boy sometimes didn't go to school for days, insisting he'd been sick when he came back. I didn't think much of it, but I overheard a few boys talking about how they, er, had taken care of him, and when I why asked they were doing that, they told me I shouldn't be listening in on things that weren't my business.'

Sirius blinked at him.

'But they stopped!' Peter said, hastily. 'I think they did, anyway. Lupin isn't sick any more, so –'

'Lupin?' James and Sirius asked at the same time.

'Yeah, that's his name,' Pettigrew said, confused. 'Didn't I tell you?'

Strangely, after Pettigrew had told him, Sirius began seeing Lupin more.

He saw him when he was walking into the Geography classroom, catching a glimpse of a pale face and a heavy book bag; when he and James were in the cafeteria, he saw him sitting a few tables away, nose buried in a book; as he passed the ball to Rosier during football practice, he saw Lupin sitting under one of the nearby trees, studying.

Sirius didn't think much of it; it was just that he was looking out for Lupin now, wasn't he? Yeah, just making sure he didn't get hurt.

'What I don't get,' Sirius mused, when he and James were sitting up in James's room, discussing it, 'is that he didn't report it.'

'Maybe he's scared?' James offered. 'Pass the crisps, will you?'

'Catch,' Sirius said, throwing the packet. James caught it without looking up from his text. He'd always been ace at sports, James had; fantastic reflexes.

'Of what?' Sirius asked, immersing himself in his own Maths homework.

'The boys? Teachers?' James suggested, shrugging. 'I don't know.'

'And he just took it,' Sirius continued. 'He just laid there and let them hit him. I would've at least hit back.'

'Yeah,' James said, absently. 'But he's only, what, how old is Pettigrew again?'

'Who cares?' Sirius asked, missing the point spectacularly.

'Well, he's the same age as Pettigrew, in any case,' James said, flicking a page. 'And Pettigrew's tiny. Practically a midget, anyway.'

'I thought he was in fifth year.'

'Which means Lupin's only a year below us.' James peered at Sirius over the rim of his glasses. 'Like I said, tiny.'

'Right.'

The next time Sirius saw Lupin was in the library.

Snape was badgering Lupin, hovering over his shoulder and clearly saying things the former Lady Snape would certainly have not approved of, if the shaking pen Lupin was holding in his left hand was anything to go by.

Snape had been unbearable to anyone and everyone ever since his father's – slip-up. By now, everyone had found out what exactly had happened, and he was constantly reminded of it. A few boys in Sirius's year had notoriously suggested Snape be kept away from the school secretary. Sirius didn't do anything, because the secretary had happened to be his girlfriend at the time, and he did rather have that everyone stayed away from her.

Something really strange flared up in Sirius's stomach, like the time when he'd found Lupin outside, and before he'd rightfully processed what he was doing, he was behind Snape.

'Snivelly,' he said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. Snape went rigid. Sirius and Snape were not enemies, but only barely; they'd got into so many fights when they were younger, Lady Snape decided not to bring her son with when Sirius was around, and vice versa. Now that that had passed, too, Sirius and Snape were just a tiny burst away from outright animosity.

'Does saying these things to someone who doesn't talk back make you feel better?' Sirius continued, and Snape drew back from Lupin quickly, rounding on him.

'Shut up,' Snape said.

'You've become unbearable ever since your father got caught,' Sirius went on, 'what; didn't he know that sticking it in your secretary when you're married isn't the right thing to do?'

'SHUT UP!' Snape roared, and grabbed Sirius by the collar.

Sirius's lips quirked into a wicked smile. 'Touchy, are we?' he asked, and Snape tightened his hold.

'Please stop,' Lupin said miserably.

He needn't have said anything. At that precise moment, Miss Jones stomped around the Greek section, her lips thin with anger.

'Shouting! Fighting! In a library! You swine have no respect for literature! Detention, all of you!'

Sirius wasn't sure how, but Snape had managed to wheedle his way out of detention after school. He gave a triumphant look at Sirius and Lupin as he passed by them. Sirius was left alone with Lupin. Miss Jones had made them sort out two sections of books; Sirius had got the History section, while Lupin's books were all about Biology.

'See you, then,' Sirius said, darkly, and Lupin didn't even look at him as he wheeled his own book cart away.

Two hours later, Sirius rather thought he'd seen enough books to last him a lifetime, and as he was pushing his cart back into the storage room, he passed the Biology section.

'Lupin?' he called, halting his cart and searching the rows and rows (the Biology section, he noticed wryly, had a lot more books) with his eyes. No one appeared in sight but he heard a small, slightly strained sound over his left shoulder, and he ducked into the "G to I" section.

There Lupin was, standing on his tip-toes, trying to reach for a book on the highest shelf. Sirius went to stand behind him and picked it up without much effort. 'Here you go, Lupin.'

'T – Thanks,' Lupin stammered, book still in hand.

'All right, then?' Sirius asked. 'Sorry to get you into detention.'

'No, it's fine. Thank you for – well. It's strange,' Lupin said abruptly, cutting himself off, 'I thought things at Tamworth would've been different.'

Sirius didn't know what to say to that, so he kept his mouth shut.

'And, well, the only person who's been remotely nice to me is you,' Lupin said, turning to him. 'And other than your name, I don't even know you that well.'

Sirius blinked at him. 'Anyone would've saved you,' he said, a bit uneasily, because Lupin made him sound like some sort of hero, which he clearly wasn't.

'They wouldn't have,' Lupin said, hotly, and Sirius absently noted that he actually wasn't that much taller than Lupin was. Lupin came to his nose, almost. Blimey, he'd be a right tall bugger by the time next year rolled around.

'You're welcome?' Sirius asked, running a hand through his hair and wondering why he was being so awkward.

'I just –'

Lupin sounded nervous, and Sirius shook off his own thoughts to look at him curiously.

'I just –' Lupin said again, then muttered something very vague, and kissed him.

Sirius was standing there, shell-shocked, not knowing what to do or make of this situation. This was certainly unexpected. He really hadn't thought Lupin – Lupin – would kiss him.

He drew back almost instantly, watching Lupin with wide eyes. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were bright, and all Sirius could think to say was, 'I have to go, Mum'll kill me if I'm late for dinner.'

He didn't wait for an answer as he stored his cart as quick as possible and all but flew out of the library.

In order to keep his frantic, indecent Lupin-related thoughts out of his mind, Sirius went out the following Saturday with James to the local pub, and found a rather pretty girl. Her name had been long, Sirius thought, as he stumbled out of the loo, straightening his trousers, and she'd had black hair, but that was all he really remembered.

James, who knew nothing of the library incident, made him tell how it was. Sirius told him it was fine, and teased him about still not being able to pull his own bird.

After all, he didn't like Lupin. He hadn't liked that kiss, and he was certainly not thinking about it constantly.

Yes, everything was fine, Sirius thought vehemently, as the black-haired girl slid onto his lap and began kissing him.

Back at school, it seemed Lupin was avoiding him.

Whenever they saw each other in the corridor in between classes, Lupin quietly ducked into his classroom. When at lunch, they happened to stand next to each other in line, Lupin dropped the entire sugar pot into his tea and had to go back to the beginning of the line to get a new cup. It made Sirius strangely aware of himself and Lupin, and James seemed to have noticed, too.

'What's going on with you and Lupin?' James had whispered, when they were sitting next to each other in English.

'Nothing,' Sirius had whispered back, forcing himself to sound indignant, but it didn't work, because James had always known him too well.

'Bollocks. Out with it,' James said, and Sirius was spared a reply when their English teacher rapped on James's desk with Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, and nastily said that they should probably pay better attention if they didn't want to fail.

'Yes, miss,' Sirius responded, although he didn't mean a word. 'Drop it,' he hissed at James, as soon as her back was turned.

For some strange reason, James did. Then again, Sirius snogged the caretaker's daughter right in front of him, so James probably thought it had been a phase.

Sirius only wished, even as Mary clutched at his arms while her father shouted bloody murder over the grounds, that he could think the same.

After dinner, Sirius's father had called him into the study. Mindful of his mother's grim-faced look, he followed him in.

They had been arguing about Sirius's, er, girl "companions" for the last hour.

'I know you're dilly-dallying around with every girl that crosses your path, Sirius!' his father said angrily, slamming The Times on his desk. 'I am neither blind nor ignorant. But it is time for you to settle down.'

'Sir,' Sirius said, and his father glared at the improper title, 'might I remind you that I'm seventeen?'

'I married your mother when I was eighteen. As soon as you become of age, you become the legal heir to this. All of this, Sirius; it will be yours.'

Sirius calmly stared at his father's cigar cabinet, tracing his eyes over the glass and the tropical wood surrounding it (made of rainforest trees, smuggled in through one of the non-surveyed ports in Newcastle), his mouth set.

'What if I don't want to have all of that?' Sirius asked, and his father laughed mercilessly, almost cruelly.

'That, my son, is sadly not an option. This is not a voluntary offer. You take it, no questions asked.'

Marry. He was going to have to get married to some deranged bint who didn't even know him, parading her around at dinner parties like Father did with Mother, who was widely known for her beauty and her exquisite taste in furniture. He'd have to have children.

Without thinking it over, he stood up. On impacting with his legs, the chair he had been sitting in tottered dangerously for a moment, and then dropped, the expensive leather straining dangerously, and the wood colliding, hard, with the parquet floor below.

'Watch it!' his father snarled. Sirius looked at him with wide eyes.

He would become his father.

Sirius ran.

'Fuck, I'm freezing,' Sirius muttered, as he rubbed his arms to stay warm. January was cold; a cutting wind bit at his cheeks, crept under his thin, starched dining shirt and his trousers. There was freshly fallen snow everywhere, and it wasn't making things better. For the umpteenth time, Sirius wished he'd had the sense to grab his coat before he stormed out.

The ringing sound of a store bell caught his ears and he turned his head to the side, looking straight at a shop. The fancy golden lettering on the right window said "John's Bakery" and Sirius felt a lurch down his stomach. He hadn't eaten for a few hours now, and like a proper seventeen year old, he was starving.

Without him realising, his had feet carried him towards the shop. The old wooden door creaked ominously as he entered, the bells clinking merrily. It struck him as strange that the shop was still open; most shops in the town closed at about seven.

'Hello?' he called, grateful for the warmth of the wood-panelled floor. The bakery smelled of bread and cakes and pastries; the glass displays in front of the counter were empty, though.

'We're closed for the day,' a female voice called, and Sirius heard the muffled sound of someone ascending stairs.

Sirius sighed, took one last, slightly lingering look at the glass displays and the empty bread baskets behind it, turned, and walked right into someone.

'Bugger,' a voice said, just as Sirius heard a nasty crack and he looked down. Over his shoes, and all over the floor really, lay at least two dozen eggs, their shells cracked and the egg yolk all over the place.

'I'm sorry,' the same voice said. Sirius recognised it now, and he looked up. 'Lupin,' he said, and the confusion must've appeared in his voice, because Lupin raised his eyes to meet his, and promptly turned a very becoming shade of scarlet.

'Sirius!' he called. Both of Sirius's eyebrows rose.

'What are you – I thought you were –' Lupin nattered, as Sirius gingerly stepped out of the mess of eggs and glanced down at his shoes. He hoped he'd manage to get that out. He didn't exactly fancy going to up to London to get a new pair at Church's.

'Oh,' Sirius said suddenly, his attention distracted from the black leather and the custom-made pattern father had practically forced the shop to print in the soles, 'this is your bakery, right?'

Lupin looked at him blankly for a moment, clearly having not expected him to remember.

'It's not exactly mine,' Lupin said. 'It's my mum and dad's. I just help out.'

'I'm sure everyone will appreciate you throwing eggs all over the place, Lupin,' Sirius said dryly, and Lupin spluttered half finished phrases in his direction for some time.

'I was only going to make a Victoria sponge!' Lupin managed eventually. Sirius's stomach growled again to remind him that he was hungry.

'Well,' Sirius said, and then saluted a bit, 'I'll see you around, Lupin. Good luck with Victoria.'

Just as his hand turned on the doorknob, he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

'Would you like to stay?' Lupin asked, and Sirius thought vaguely that he'd never heard Lupin talk so much the entire time he'd known him.

Sirius hesitated, but Lupin said, 'Mum won't mind, honest' and Sirius really was a bit hungry. So he stuffed his pride into a far corner of his mind, and nodded. He let go of the doorknob and Lupin stepped past him to lock it. At Sirius's shocked face, Lupin grinned. 'Bakery's through there. I'll clean this up.'

Carefully, Sirius walked through the doorway behind the counter and found himself in a small kitchen. He placed himself gingerly on a corner of the large table, as all the chairs had supplies and boxes on them, and amused himself by tossing a bit of egg yolk from one shoe onto the other.

Sirius had got rather good by the time Lupin returned, and Lupin watched him with what seemed like amusement before he passed Sirius, and went up the stairs.

'Remus?' the same female voice Sirius had heard earlier called, and Sirius blinked, realising that must be what Lupin's first name was, because Lupin responded, 'I dropped the new eggs, Mum.'

There were some more footsteps and some muffled words, and Lupin returned. 'I'll make you something,' Lupin told Sirius, as if it was perfectly normal to do so. 'What would you like?'

'I'll have some of your cake, Lupin,' Sirius said, as if he had no shame at all.

Lupin looked at him for a little while, and then forcefully said, 'Remus.'

Sirius blinked at him, but this seemed enough. Remus was smiling as he was leaning towards the oven, kneeling before opening it, pulling on ridiculously large mittens when he touched the metal front.

'Fetching, Remus,' Sirius said deliberately, and laughed at the way Remus nearly dropped the plate he was holding. He took out not one, but six cakes, and Sirius glanced suspiciously at the oven, which did look rather larger than usual.

'What d'you make so many for?' Sirius asked, as Remus expertly placed one after the other on the kitchen counter.

'We make the first cake and place it on display,' Remus explained. 'And as it's a rather popular cake, we usually have to have a second at hand by the first day, and the third cake, we save for dessert.'

'Er,' was Sirius's reply, as Remus started to take out china plates from one of the cupboards. 'Shouldn't we wait until they're cooled down?'

Remus looked at him funny as he took out a bowl from another cupboard, and a large knife. The handle glinted in the moonlight pouring through the kitchen window, and Sirius stared at it as Remus began to spread the first two sponges with something red and what looked to be whipped cream.

Humming patiently under his breath, Remus finished spreading all the sponges, and then carefully began to press them together. Sirius hopped off the table he'd been sitting on and waited until Lupin was done before leaning his neck over Lupin's shoulder.

'They look nice,' Sirius said, and Lupin jumped, dropping the knife into the sink in the process. Sirius laughed as he drew back.

'They've already cooled down,' Remus said in reply, and Sirius had to actually think back a few seconds to realise what question he was answering.

Then, Lupin forced a chipped china plate into Sirius's hands. On it, a perfectly cut piece of Victoria sponge laid, the icing sugar neatly sprinkled on. Remus handed him a tiny, silver fork and Sirius waited until he'd sat down at the table to sit down, too.

'Remus,' he asked, once he'd finished his piece, 'can I ask you something?'

Lupin, who'd fallen silent, looked up at him. Sirius noticed his eyes were brown.

'No,' Remus said, and it took a moment for Sirius to realise it.

'What? Why not?'

'Because you're going to ask why I did it, aren't you?' Remus said, softly. 'And, frankly, I don't want to answer that.'

Sirius stared at him, his mouth shaped as a large "o". 'That's rich,' he managed, eventually. 'You can't just decide to snog every bloke you meet and then refuse to explain why!'

Remus's eyes narrowed, and Sirius realised he looked rather dangerous, the fork in his left hand shaking.

'I don't want to,' Remus continued, and his voice was a lot quieter; Sirius had to lean forward to hear it, 'because I know how you'll react. Besides –'

Sirius drowned out the bleating, and took in his face. Lupin was all right, if you really thought about it. His nose was small, and he had a few spare freckles around it, as if someone had accidentally put them there and then forgot about them.

'– see?' Remus finished.

Ah, fuck it, Sirius thought. 'I'm going to kiss you now,' he said, and leant forward.

Remus let him.