A/N: Of late, I have been reading a lot of Remus Lupin-Sirius Black 'slash' fanfiction. I personally find it a fascinating exploration and true credit to the beauty of Fanfiction. Based on this, I have decided to do a little of my own digging into this fandom. I stress that it is very light 'slash' but could definitely could not be read as plutonic. On that note, I am not bothered as to those of you who find homosexuality affronting. The next chapter will not contain 'slash' material and you are welcome to skip ahead.

Regards

CW

Hermione stepped up to the front of the line, chewing her lip, a thin gleam of sweat between her skin and her wand. Behind her, the students clamoured for a good position; after all, who wouldn't want to discover what was the brightest witch of their age truly afraid of?

Professor Remus J. Lupin measured her, leaning casually on the bench. Here was one who was not quite sure what was about to take shape before her, but was nonetheless ready to face it. He'd seen a lot in his life. He'd seen war and he'd seen death and he'd seen life and love. He knew fear like he knew every scar on his rangy body. It took an awful lot to take a man like this by surprise.

However, what took shape before the slightly quivering figure of Hermione Granger shocked him, terrified him, to the point of freezing.

A slouched figure whirled into being; shoulder length, ragged black hair, a gaunt, skeletal face, snarling yellowed teeth and mad grey eyes. In rags, the figure straightened and laughed manically, glaring as the class began to scream as one. Hermione, standing before them all, was struck dumb. For a moment, Remus wondered what in the hell this young Gryffindor girl had conjured, standing quickly to assist, but then the face of a murderer turned to him, sneering with an aged, emaciated shadow of a man he had once known. Remus froze.

Nononononononononono-

The boggart, suddenly realising it was feeding off the fear of not one, but a whole class of people, threw back its Sirius-head and laughed. It was a cold, cruel sound that sent a shudder through Remus and all he could do was watch in shocked misery. The boggart stepped closer to Hermione and sneered. It didn't say a word; its posture, its actions, its expression, said everything that it could not voice.

Filthy little mudblood. I will enjoy killing you. Die! Scared, Muggleborn? Ah, new blood. Fresh meat. You know who I am, you know what I have done, you know what I am capable of. You don't have a chance. Don't bother screaming.

Hermione seemed to shake herself and raised her trembling wand.

"Ri-ri-rid-"

The boggart leaped at her, snarling, teeth bared like an animal. Somebody, not Hermione, screamed. Remus still did not move; he could not.

This, this, thing before him, was nothing but the imagined horrors existing in a frightened girl's mind, he reminded himself. This was not Sirius Black; sexy, flirtatious, laughing, witty, brave, loyal Padfoot. This was not the boy who was his best friend, later and for oh-so-little time, his lover. No, this was a monster with Sirius' face. A figment of a scared girl's imagination.

"Sirius" he said, not realising he'd said it out loud. The class was scrambling about, milling in panic, some of them heading for the door, but he took no notice. How could he? When his Sirius stood before him, lashing out with anger and hatred and madness in his eyes. He needed his help, the soothing that his touch provided, just as Padfoot soothed the wolf on full moon's. He stepped closer, eyes never leaving Padfoot, focused only on him, the same way he had approached when Sirius was sixteen and sat with his knees drawn to his chest; disinherited, disowned and discredited.

Then, suddenly James stepped out of the crowd with a redhead by his side. Was that Arthur? Remus had no time to think; James was raising his wand at Sirius! As soon as he did, the boggart hesitated. This was a new face, a new fear. But was it worth releasing this face, this form that elicited so much delicious fear, for this one, so comparatively small? The boggart retained the Sirius-form for a moment longer and curved its thin, bitten lips into a snarl. Then, with a whirl, became a new evil; black robed and ragged figure took its place.

It was only then that Remus remembered; not James, Harry. The boy with Lily's eyes, whose greatest fear was the Dementor now floating before them, its rancid iniquity rolling off it in icy sheets. Time seem to freeze with them all standing there. Harry's anger was fading from his features and being replaced by fear.

Remus Lupin was back in his element.

Sirius, grey eyes twinkling with mischief, leans to kiss him soundly on the mouth and then traces the geature to brush his cheeks and eyes, his face growing sombre.

"I love you Moony" he says, for once in his life without a trace of a joke in his eyes.

Remus grabbed that memory before it could be tainted by betrayal and ruin and death and let it flow through him.

"Expecto Patronum!"

The chest locked tightly, Lupin turned to regard the badly shaken class.

"Class dismissed" he said softly, his eyes never leaving Harry's.