Venusta Vance pushed her long dark hair out of her eyes as she entered the room. It had been a long time since she'd last been to St Mungo's – she'd hoped she would never go there for him.

He was sitting up on the bed, looking out the window, astonishingly handsome in spite of the slight scars on his face, remainders of the battle, and the dark circles around his eyes. She had never seen him looking so vulnerable, he who was always so strong it made most people look weak.

"Sirius," she called softly.

Sirius turned to her, his expression unreadable; a whole family was visiting the man Sirius shared the room with, and it was all Venus could do not to jump on the bed and snog him senseless (which also probably wasn't the best idea considering Sirius was recovering). But to know that he was alright after worrying for him so much was overwhelming.

"Hello," he muttered, not looking at her (she had expected a better welcome).

Venus walked towards him and hugged him, burying her face in his hair, blinking back tears. It was not in her character to cry, but then she had not been herself for the past hour. Sirius had been injured on the day before during a fight with Death Eaters and she had learnt it only a few hours ago, having been abroad for an Order mission. And then she had had to wait until the Healers left Sirius's room.

"I'm here now to take care of you," Venus said, gently stroking his cheek.

Sirius frowned, still looking away, and took her hand away.

"I can take care of myself."

Venus's heart sank at the coldness of his words and she felt the tears coming back. She took a deep breath and fought them with her usual pride and strength.

"Look, if you resent me for not coming earlier, I was abroad and –"

"I don't resent you," Sirius cut in sincerely.

Sirius finally glanced at her and she felt extremely unnerved. A cold fire was burning in his eyes, the reflection of a thousand emotions passing by in a flash like clouds in a windy sky.

"What's the matter then?" Venus whispered.

Sirius sighed; he looked dark and exhausted, older than his twenty-one years.

"The matter is that it's getting harder every day. We barely see each other anymore, and all these lies and suspicions –"

Venus's eyes widened and flashed with anger.

"You dare telling me about lies and suspicions while you've been suspecting me for ages, never telling me where Lily and James are, and I haven't seen them for over a year and a half –"

"We've already had this discussion," Sirius interrupted wearily. "I'm sorry, but I cannot trust anyone with their lives –"

"And Remus!" Venus almost shouted, ignoring the bewildered glances the visiting family was giving her. "You suspect Remus, for Merlin's sake!"

Sirius chuckled mirthlessly, the laughter never reaching his eyes.

"Been rather keen on good old Remus for these past months, haven't we?"

The sarcasm in his voice and the meaning behind his words pierced her heart like a sword. The fact that he thought she could cheat on him with one of his best friends was a proof that he had changed. Sometimes she loathed him so much it scared her; what if he had not changed, what if war brought out the real him?

"Is that what you think of me?" Venus asked, her voice surprisingly quiet as she suppressed her emotions. "Sirius, sometimes you're downright despicable –"

"I know," Sirius interrupted her again. "I told you I was trouble… you know that I'm no good."

He sounded so bitter, as if he was going to do something that he did not want to do. The visiting family was taking leave, but neither Venus nor Sirius was really paying attention to anything other than themselves and their pounding hearts and their torn feelings.

"You're trouble, yes, but a good kind of trouble… most of the time."

Venus forced a smile and noticed that Sirius's expression had softened. He was looking out the window again and she did the same; the sky was dim and as grey as his eyes. They remained silent for a while; her mind was strangely blank and she felt like she had entered into a tunnel and she didn't know where it led to. She felt scared and hopeless and lonely, and she wanted to be close to him.

"Don't you love me?" Venus whispered.

She hated to speak with so little dignity, but she hated even more this dark insecurity of not understanding him. This grave, broken man was not the one she loved; it was a bitter product of war. Their eyes met and he smiled sadly, answering her question.

The other man in the room had lit up a lamp as the day was coming to an end; she had not even realized how dark the room had been, but now she was struck by how much the light reflected the twinkle that was back in Sirius's eyes. He had mistaken her; the real Sirius was still there – she only had to find the right words. She knew Sirius was in a tunnel of his own, and a darker one. It was down to them to be able to escape.

"Let's leave," Venus said suddenly.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Leave? I'm supposed to stay here today… But then I feel fine and I hate being stuck in here."

Sirius stood up and took Venus's hands in his, squeezing them a little more than necessary, and kissed her, sending shivers down her spine. Days of longing had taken their toll on both of them – they had not seen each other for almost three weeks. He pulled her closer to him, his caresses apologizing for the harshness of his earlier words (Sirius Black never apologized with words). She hated what war made them do, but they could fight against war itself tonight, couldn't they? She could tell that Sirius felt the same as he held her tight.

"You're back," Venus said, relieved, and they Disapparated.

They landed in Venus's large, silent house (no one was there). She glanced up at him questioningly and he kissed her roughly as though it would make it all disappear: war, death, love, pain and suspicions, everything vanished as they made love.

There were no stupid, meaningless promises that night, no "everything will be alright", no "I'll always be with you", because they both knew that each empty word spoken risked being fatal to their fragile relationship. It was war that rendered it breakable at every moment, and it was war that broke it a few days later, on the first day of November.