Well, as per, everything here is JK Rowling's, warnings for mentions of a homosexual relationship, but nothing overtly anything really, apart from some Remus-battering, but that's nothing new. Enjoy.

It was a Wednesday. Sirius doesn't remember anything other than the fact that it was a Wednesday, that and it was dark. The weather was nothing exceptional. The day held no previous highly memorable events. Remus had been summoned to McGonagall's office, and his friends had merely presumed it had something to do with his prefectly duties, as had been commonplace during the past few months. But when he returned shortly after, all three could tell that something was not right. And as he silently placed his trunk on top of his bed and began methodically packing up his things, their suspicions were only confirmed. Group order dictated that although James was the unnamed 'leader' of the foursome, in matters concerning Remus it would be Sirius who reached out first. And in this situation that meant that he was the one to step forward and ask what was wrong.

"My mother." Remus's terse reply had had them all wondering if he had momentarily forgotten that they all knew his secret and he was trying to fob them off with his age old excuse.

But after a few moments of reflection Sirius realised that that month's moon wasn't until the twentieth; two and a half weeks away. "What about her mate?" despite their now evolved relationship, affectionate nicknames had never happened.

"She's dead" the smaller boy nearly whispered as he slammed shut his trunk and pulled it off the bed, making towards the door until James grabbed hold of his arm.

"What do you mean?" he demanded.

Remus blinked at him and swiftly shook off his grip. "I mean she's dead. I have to go; I'm meeting my dad off the train." And like that he was gone, the three other boys left staring at the door through which he had made a hasty exit. The next time they would see him, little did they know, would be his mother's funeral.

James continued to fuss with his tie, scowling at his reflection as he repeatedly forgot that in a mirror, ones actions were in fact mirrored. Sirius was leant against the wall of the room, having been ready for nearly half an hour. Peter was sat awkwardly on the bed looking like he would burst out of his suit if he had to move. Finally Sirius had had enough, and fearing that they may well miss the service if James continued to faff, he snapped. "James, for the love of Merlin just leave it, he's not going to flip out if your tie isn't geometrically perfect."

"I know, I just, never mind" James sighed, dropping his arms to his sides. "Have you seen him this morning?" He looked to Sirius, who he knew had been up the longest and had most probably, due to an inability to remain still a majority of the time wandered out of the spare room they had all three been housed in.

"No, but I think they left a while ago."

"We should get going" James decided as he tapped his legs absent-mindedly. "You ready Pete?"

Peter nodded slightly, his starched collar digging into his neck painfully. "Yeah."

They solemnly walked over to the church, just a short distance away, not speaking, not looking up from their feet as they trudge onwards; they can't think too much, not about why they're really there. As they walked inside, a glance at the front pew revealed that John and Remus had left, and arrived a good while before them. At every grand funeral Sirius had been forced to attend everyone went in together, and small conversations were held between the guests nearly spilling out of wherever it had been held. But here they were met by a silent chapel, a scattering of guests sitting prostrate as they watched the priest, waiting for things to get started it seemed. Remus, from the look of it, was staring into his lap, his head facing down and a hand occasionally coming up to rub the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his. Seeing as there was no-one directing anyone anywhere, they headed for the second pew, behind Remus and his father and sat down with minimal fuss. Not once did Remus look up or turn to see them, but they did get a small nod from John.

It wasn't long before the service started, and as the priest droned on and on, Sirius leant forward in the creaky pew to relieve the deadening feeling he was getting in his leg. Rather than causing anyone's head to shoot back in his direction as he was expecting, Remus and his father seemed oblivious to the obnoxious sound. What Sirius saw next made him wish that it was him sat next to Remus, and that they were alone somewhere where he could pull him close and just hold him until he felt better. As the priest started to mutter about Mrs. Lupin; a woman whom he had never met, Remus's shaking white hand reached out, towards his father's. But the hand on John's lap didn't move, and once this became apparent Remus's retreated back to the side of his legs. His fingers curled into the outside of his thigh, and Sirius wanted to grab hold of John and shake him until he realised that this was one of the rare moments that his son was actually reaching out to someone; asking to be comforted rather than bottling everything up. But it wasn't his place. As the service went on, Sirius couldn't help but notice that John didn't glance at his son once, just remained staring ahead, past the priest. Remus's gaze was firmly asserted downwards, his face remaining completely passive as the priest carried on about how much Mrs. Lupin would be missed. As far as he could tell, the other boy didn't even notice it was over until John stood next to him and turned to leave. When he didn't feel Remus next to him he looked back, and muttered something to him, but still he would not move a muscle.

After a few more minutes of trying, to no avail, the three boys still sat awkwardly in the pew behind him, John sighed and turned to walk outside. James nudged Peter, signalling that perhaps the two of them should leave too, and they rose and followed him out. And so it was left just Sirius and Remus in the church, neither moving from their seats for several long seconds. When it became apparent that still the other boy was not going to move Sirius got up and moved into the front pew, resulting in the two sitting so close that their thighs were touching.

"You can't sit here all day." It felt wrong to be breaking the silence, and it was for that reason that Sirius was whispering. Remus nodded in reply, and Sirius wasn't sure if that meant he realised this fact, or he was going to do his best to do just that. "We have to go."

"I can't" he replied, leaning forward to rest his head in his hands. "If I leave it means she's not coming back. So I can't go."

"Remus" Sirius put a hand on his leg and moved his thumb in what he hoped was a soothing manner. "You know it doesn't work like that."

But Remus just turned to him and gave him the single saddest look he had ever seen in his entire life. "I can't go."

He knew what he had to say next, however unpleasant it was. "We've got to go. She's not coming back, no matter how long you stay here. She's gone, Remus. She's gone."

In that instance Remus let out the most gut-wrenching sound as he doubled over, clutching at his stomach. His breath was coming in short sharp bursts, and for one horrific moment Sirius thought that he was having some kind of fit. But he soon realised that Remus was in fact crying. His Remus, who in an entire lifetime of hardship and suffering had never broken down once, was crying. No, sobbing. And Sirius could do no more than put his right arm around him, pulling Remus flush against him and kiss his head. He wanted more than anything to be able to say something; anything vaguely comforting. But what, realistically, can you tell someone whose mother had just died? Nothing they want to hear, anyway. He sat, unmoving as Remus rocked backwards and forwards, trying his best to ground him, to remind him that someone was there as he repeated those damn words over and over and over. She's gone. Eventually, realising that waiting for him to stop was not a viable option; Sirius heaved Remus to his feet and began to walk him slowly towards the exit. And then, as though the fact that he would soon be greeted by concerned faces dawned on Remus, his head suddenly snapped up and he wiped furiously at his eyes while trying to get some hold on his breathing. His nose was red and his hair a mess, his eyes still streaming despite his best attempts as he leaned against Sirius, but he made it out.

Neither of them could help but to look over at where John stood, his hands firmly set in his pockets. If he had been crying, he was doing a mighty fine job of hiding it, and the gaze he gave the two of them showed little emotion. No compassion or overwhelming urge to rush forward and see if his grieving son was alright seemed to overcome him, and so all three remained where they were, frozen. Sirius could tell that John was itching to say something. For he who they had had to hide from, who Sirius had been unable to comfort his boyfriend for fear of upsetting, looked less than impressed at the sight of the two of them in such an embrace. Remus gazed at him imploringly, and perhaps some fatherly feelings somewhere deep inside stirred as he began to walk towards them. But it was not as it appeared, as he suddenly announced that he and Remus needed to return home immediately, and maybe it was time for Sirius James and Peter to leave. As he did so, Remus straightened up and Sirius felt a thin hand scrabble down his arm until it took hold of his own hand and locked on tightly.

"No." Someone said, and it was only when Sirius was sure it hadn't been him that he had to entertain the thought that it had been Remus. "I want them to stay. I like having them at home."

"Don't cause a scene Remus, you know better than this. And let go of him" he hissed as an afterthought.

"No, dad."

The two seemed to have a silent conversation as the atmosphere grew more and more uncomfortable. Lupin men were known for their stoicism, and it was the first time the three boys has seen the battle of wills in action. "Why are you doing this to me?" John's tone was one of anger and despair in equal measures.

But Remus had no fight in him, no answer to his father's question. And Sirius knew that things weren't made better by the cause of their visit, and maybe he should be a bit more sensitive, but he also knew he had to get Remus out of there, and so he tugged gently on his hand and the two started to walk away. After a few steps Remus turned to look behind them, at John, and uttered simple sentence; answering the only way he could. "He held my hand."