The church clock chimed somewhere in the distance, but he didn't hear it. He was throwing his belongings haphazardly into a large, leather-bound trunk which sat at the bottom of his four poster bed. There was no logic or sequence to his actions. He had to be fast. He had to get out. He could hear his mother screaming at Regulus. Or maybe at the house elf. He cast a shrinking charm on the trunk and its contents and stowed his birch wand safely in the pocket of his black jeans before securing the trunk to his broomstick. He wrenched open the old fashioned curtains which stood between him and the harsh night awaiting him. The window opened with a lurch, almost egging him on. He mounted his broom and kicked off silently into the clear summer evening. It was colder than he had expected and he was not dressed entirely appropriately. He did not even know where he was going. His black hair billowed in the wind as he turned and twisted, making his mark on the ebony sky.

He had been flying for about an hour when he saw London flash into view. His stomach rumbled aggressively and he realised that he had not eaten a thing since daybreak. He had little money, however and did not know London well. He wasn't sure how a flying teenager asking for nourishment would be taken so he decided not to risk it. He continued to fly, passing towns and villages, too high to make out people or their houses. Too high to be caught.

Hunger continued its ruthless assault on his body, but he was too exhilarated to care. The altitude chilled him to the bone, but he kept flying. The wind beat against his cheeks causing them to redden. His hands were numb, stretched out in front of him, clinging to his broom. He should have worn gloves. He could have stopped to ransack his trunk and find warmer clothing, but he could not know his whereabouts. Safety was not guaranteed. He kept flying.

The shrill words of his mother rang through his head like a drill. He should probably have been sad, he thought to himself. He wondered why he wasn't. He knew he was never going back. He knew his future had changed unalterably that day and he was flying toward his fate. He still had no idea where he would end up, but he knew he was flying with a purpose.

At that moment, an owl catapulted headlong into his face, causing him to lose control of his broomstick which proceeded to tailspin, falling faster and faster towards the ground below. He panicked yet managed to regain some control. The ground grew and grew as he plummeted lower and lower. He landed with a bump, shocked but unscathed. He stood quickly and surveyed the landscape. It was a field. He sighed, relieved. There was a slight whining noise being emitted from a bush adjacent to him and he walked over to investigate. He found a bundle of feathers and realised it was the owl whose erratic flying style had been the cause of this accident. He lifted it reassuringly from the brambles and saw that it was injured. He noticed a roll of parchment tied to its leg which he proceeded to unravel, looking around shiftily as if he should not have been reading it. It read:

Dear Sirius,

We heard about what happened and Mum made sure I sent Eddie immediately to try to find you and bring you here. We just want to make sure you are safe. Remus is here too (he had a bit of a tiff with that girl he says he has at home). Please come.

James

Sirius chuckled heartily. Of course! He was always welcome at James'. He knew he hadn't been flying for nothing. By the looks of things, he was nearly there. He gathered his things quickly, wrapped the little owl in his cloak, mounted his broom and put the delicate little bundle into his lap before setting off into the biting cold once more.

Minutes later, Sirius was knocking cautiously at the big oak door of the place he saw as his home. He knew it was late and hoped he wasn't waking anybody. His fears vanished, however as he heard an excited cry of "he's here!" and James bounded to greet him, swinging the door open and embracing his friend warmly. Following him equally enthusiastically though with slightly less bounce was his other best friend. Remus Lupin. Sirius noticed that he had grown over the summer and looked as tired as ever. Remus pulled him into an effortless hug and Sirius felt good for the first time in weeks. He knew he would be okay as long as he was here. As long as he was with them, he was home.

He handed James the bundle and smiled, "Somebody needs to work on his navigational skills. It's nothing a bit of a healing charm won't fix." The owl chirruped as soon as he saw James who cooed and cradled him like a baby.

"Oh my poor little Eddie, did you have a bit of an accident, mate?" The bird cocked its head with the same vacant expression on his face.

"I'll make some tea" Remus smiled and disappeared into the kitchen.

"I'll help" Sirius grinned and practically skipped after his friend.

Remus stood with his back to the door, reaching for the teabags in one of the cupboards in the Potters' large but warm kitchen. Sirius sneaked up behind him and snaked his arms around Remus' middle, squeezing him affectionately. Remus looked around and smiled; dimples appearing in his cheeks.

"Hey Pads. Missed you." He muttered sleepily.

"Missed you too Remmie" Sirius released his grip and started to fidget on the spot like a puppy, agitated and bored. "So has James ensnared the lovely Lily yet?" He started standing on one leg.

"Of course he hasn't. He sent her a toad, for Merlin's sake! 'Dear Lily. Kiss this and I might just materialise. Your Prince. James xxx'. It was a poor effort, if I may say so."

"And how about you, Moonie? Is there love on the horizon?" Sirius' eyes darted to the amber eyes of his best friend. He looked down in what he hoped was a nonchalant manner.

"Me? Well my relationships tend to last a couple of months. Girls always think I'm "hiding something"" he grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck "I don't know, Pads. I just don't think I'm the loving kind, or more accurately, girls can't love me. The wolf in me is unpredictable and inconsistent. I just can't be a reliable boyfriend."

"But that's what makes you ace! Keep 'em on their toes and all that jazz. Who wants a boring James-type boyfriend, when they can have a Moony?" Sirius crossed the kitchen in response to the squealing kettle which hung over the fire. He found a grotty looking cloth which he wrapped around the iron handle to stop himself from getting burned and carried the kettle to the work surface where Remus was now sitting, swinging his legs like a small boy.

"And what about you, eh? Rugged good looks, bloody clever, the only boy in school who could actually grow a beard" he paused and glanced through Sirius' veil of ebony hair to the icy grey eyes lurking underneath "What happened with you and Keira Peters? Why did you break up with her?"

Sirius looked determinedly at the terracotta floor tiles. "How do you know it wasn't the

other way around?"

"Because you've never been dumped in your life. Every girl in school wants to marry you. They all think they can be the one to change you; to tame the wild beast. I'm pretty sure none of them would end a relationship with you" Remus pulled some mugs from the cupboard above him and clinked them down before pouring the tea into them one by one. Sirius said nothing. Remus said nothing. Remus handed Sirius one of the steaming mugs. Still nobody spoke. Sirius lifted himself up to sit on the same counter and flopped his head onto Remus' waiting shoulder.

Sirius took a deep breath. "I guess I didn't feel anything" he mumbled "I never really do."

"Well you just haven't found the right girl" Remus smiled encouragingly, taking a sip of his tea.

"Hmm" Sirius looked at his broken shoelace "you're probably right, Remmie. Maybe I'm just, in the immortal words of Witches Aloud, not the loving kind."

Remus rested his head on Sirius', sinking into his soft, floppy hair. "Siri" he sighed "You are pretty much the most loving person anyone could hope to meet. I know you've had it tough this week. But you must know that what you had with your family, that wasn't love. People like that don't know the meaning of love. Love is like a fire in your heart. A reason for living" he lifted his head and surveyed his friend's expression. "I think, Pads, you can find that here with me... a-and James..." he added, his cheeks reddening though he wasn't sure why.

Sirius' eyes glistened with unshed tears and Remus could see his attempt to blink them away. One rebellious streak of salty water, however, ventured down his cheek. Remus brushed his knuckle lightly across his friend's skin. Sirius clasped his hand lightly and gently squeezed it. Their gazes were locked for what seemed like eternity.

"Where's this bloody tea then, eh?" James strolled in, head held high and did not notice the two boys shifting quickly into a somewhat less friendly position. Remus handed James a pink, floral mug and smiled unconvincingly. He wasn't sure why he was feeling this way, but he was resentful of the fact that James had come in. He was so close to Sirius. Like brothers, he told himself. He wasn't sure whether he believed that or not, but he was a rational boy so rationalising his closeness with Sirius was the only way he could let himself maintain it.