"Remus, I'm—"

"No," Remus said sharply, cutting him off. Sirius tried again.

"I'm so –"

"No, I mean it," Remus said, holding up a hand. "Don't apologize. Don't."

Sirius stared at him. His pale skin. The new bandage around his right wrist. His red rimmed eyes. The eyes that terrified Sirius. He had never seen Remus cry. He had seen him angry, had seen him cold and distant, had seen nearly every rendition of Remus. But he had never seen him cry.

"Remus, please let me–" Sirius tried for the third time, but once again, Remus cut him off.

"No, don't speak," Remus said. "Don't apologize. Because if you apologize, I'm going to forgive you. If you say you're sorry, I will tell you it's okay, it's fine, and we'll be friends again. I'm going to forgive you. I am. Because I know that you are sorry. Because I know that you were just thoughtless. Because I know that you simply did not think. I will be forgiving you. But I need a minute. To be hurt. To be sad. To be staggered by the sheer, unbelievable selfishness of you.

"I know you could not possibly have been thinking about me. I know that. Because you would never, could never, have hurt me like this on purpose. Because you…care about me too much."

It had been right there, on the tip of his tongue. Remus had felt the word, could nearly taste it. It had almost slipped out. But not now. Not today. Not after this. They hadn't said it. Hadn't even really thought it clearly. At least he hadn't. How could he? Nothing was set. Nothing was real. It was tenuous, tentative. It was a lingering glance. Fingers trailing along the back of a hand. An extra smile over dinner. It wasn't anything yet. And now it was nothing.

"You couldn't have thought clearly. I know that. Because you certainly couldn't have been aware of the consequences of your actions. I'm sure you've thought about them now, of course. How you would be suspended. Or maybe expelled. How your parents would just ship you off to Durmstrang, or Beaubatons. Or maybe they would go further and send you off to America, and Ilvermorny. How I would also be expelled. And imprisoned. And how I would likely have a silver bullet drilled straight into my heart."

Tears were starting to slip down Sirius's cheeks now, but he didn't move to brush them away. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off Remus. Remus, who was so strong. Remus, who wasn't crying, wasn't quivering, wasn't speaking with any waver at all. Remus was tall, and strong, and steady in his pain.

"We don't use guns, wizards. Most wizards don't even know what they are. But the ministry keeps a stash of silver bullets. They're put straight into the heart of a werewolf who hurts anyone else. Turns them. Kills them. Even maims them. They say it's agonizing, but what does that really matter? It ends eventually, doesn't it? It's death no matter how much it hurts ahead of time.

"So I know you didn't think about that before you sent Snape down that tunnel. I know you were thoughtless. Careless. Reckless. Foolhardy. But none of those are things I didn't know before. You're more selfish than I had realized, I suppose. That's new. But really, I haven't learned anything about you, Sirius. Not from this.

"So I'm going to forgive you. Because you were just being you. And how could I not forgive you? James is going to. I know he's furious right now, but he'll let up. You're family, after all. And Peter is already halfway to forgiving you, you know he can never stay mad at anyone. So what am I supposed to do? I can't be the one to break up the gang. To ruin the Marauders. I can't be the one that forces James and Peter to choose between us.

"So I will be forgiving you. I will. Today. But I need a minute. To be scared, and sad, and disappointed, and let down, and hurt, and bloody fucking furious with you, Sirius, because you colossally, royally, tremendously fucked up. You didn't think. You just did not think. And the result was nearly catastrophic. It wasn't. Things could have been worse. They could have been better, but they could have been worse. So I will forgive you and the two of us will be friends once more. Friends. We will be that. I just need a minute. Okay?"

"Okay," Sirius whispered. The tears had streaked down his cheeks and fallen now, but more were following behind quickly. Remus stared at the ceiling, the floor, the walls, breathing deep breaths, swallowing hard. Sirius just stood, silently, and waited. Finally, Remus looked at him and nodded.

"Okay," he said.

"Okay?" Sirius wasn't sure what to say.

"Okay," Remus said again. "I'm ready. For you to apologize."

He meant to. Sirius really did mean to say sorry. He meant to get down on bended knee and apologize until he couldn't say the words anymore. He meant to. He was sorry, tremendously sorry, horrifically sorry. Sorrier than he had ever been, and ever would be. But when he opened his mouth and spoke, another truth slipped out instead.

"Remus, I love you."

Remus didn't speak. He didn't jerk backwards. He didn't move. He didn't breathe. And then he said, calmly, "No."

"What?"

"No," he repeated.

"I don't know what that…"

"No, you don't love me," Remus said forcefully. "No, you don't."

"Yes," Sirius said. "Yes, I do."

"No, you don't," Remus insisted, and now, finally, now the tears were welling up, and spilling over, and he brushed at them angrily with the back of his hand, but more spilled down to take their place. "No, you don't love me. Because I've waited years, years for you to look at me, to think about me, to care about me. No, you don't love me, because no one has ever said that to me before, and the first person to say it can't be someone who has nearly gotten me sentenced to death. You don't love me, because someone who loved me would never have done this to me, not ever. You don't love me because I can't love you back now. So no. I do not accept. You cannot say that to me. That isn't what you were supposed to say. Follow the damn script and say your lines, and let me say mine, and we can be friends again, Sirius, just friends. Just say your part."

Sirius stared at him. Remus stared back. Then Sirius nodded. "I'm sorry, Remus."

"It's okay, it's fine," Remus said at once. "I forgive you. We can be friends again."

"Okay," Sirius said. And they turned their separate ways and walked away.

James sat up when Sirius entered the dormitory. He hadn't said more than ten words to Sirius in two days, but he made eye contact for the first time since that night, and asked, "How did it go?"

Sirius's breath caught, and the tears fell harder, and he put his hands on his face to try and hold them in. James stood up and took a step closer, not completely willing to support him, but not able to just leave him alone either. "He didn't forgive you?"

Sirius nodded, still gasping for air, then managed to calm down enough to get out, "He did, he did, he said he forgives me."

"Then what are you on about? It's more than you deserve, you know," James said and Sirius was nodding into his hands.

"I know, you're right, it is," Sirius said. "He should never have forgiven me. But he did."

"Then what is it?" Sirius finally stopped shuddering and gasping and lowered his hands. He looked at James, and James thought he had never seen a look more helpless before. "What is it?" he asked again.

"He said we could be…friends," Sirius said. "He said we could be friends again."

"That's good, isn't it?" James asked, and Sirius nodded. "But you're…upset."

"I…should be happy with what I've managed to get," Sirius said. He took a deep breath and walked over to his bed. "It's more than I deserve."

He pulled the hangings shut, and left James standing there, sure that he was missing something, but unsure what it was.