Smiles were quite deceitful, thought Sirius. He hated them.

Some were actually mean, menacing grins disguised as smiles, but you could still see the lie hidden in the falsely warm look.

Just that morning, he had been teased by some of the older Slytherins.

"Hey, Black, come here where your home is. We won't hurt you. Oh wait; you don't belong to your own family anymore! You were… disowned" One of them said, teasing him. The rest of them laughed in response, as if the comment had been the funniest thing in the world.

And then he had been surrounded. They came closer and closer, making him feel as if he were being squeezed and juice and pressed. He was being forced to move back, but he had no space behind him. He had to find a way to curl up into himself. Sirius was looking around himself nervously, trying to find a way out.

They left him on the floor bleeding and sporting bruises that would be purple and blue before the top of the hour. They smiled at each other; grim, calculating smiles. The same his family always used.

Then, they sneered at him, only McGonagall was coming so they made the sneer into something softer. It still hurt. They ran before she could catch them, and he was sent to Pomfrey.

He hated sneers – had seen them his entire life and could see nothing being gained from using that particular facial expression. Nothing other than that general air of having something stuck up your arse. Around his house – no, not his house anymore –, that almost-but-not-quite smile was used all too much. He hated it.

So he ran away.

But he couldn't run away from the pity that emanated all the teachers' smiles of greeting when they passed in the hallway. They were all apologizing for the recent "upheaval in his life". He didn't need their pity. He needed normalcy.

Pomfrey wasn't helpful in the least, only managing to make the pain fade to a faint soreness in his arms and legs and brain, and making the marks only partly fade away. She told him he needed to let the injuries begin healing by themselves.

Even delivering this bad news to him hadn't stopped that infernal smile from spreading across her features. Her sharp words were suddenly unfamiliar to him as he was faced with that smile. He didn't need pity. He needed to get into trouble and get detention. He needed to fall back into the rhythm of things before this… this depression became the routine.

Sirius didn't want to be known as "that wussy guy who couldn't run away from his evil, abusive parents because he felt homesick", he wanted to have his name be the one all future pranksters looked up to. The teachers should be looking at him with wary eyes full of the knowledge that they – he - would pass on the troublemaking to the next generation of Marauders. There should be none of that damn pity.

He hated the false smile Dumbledore gave him when he punched someone in the nose for telling him he looked as pale as a sheet of parchment. It was one of the Slytherins that had been teasing him earlier. Who had gotten the last laugh?

"Sirius, I know you have a lot going on. Is there someone you'd like to talk to about it with? Do you have someone you can trust with your feelings? I'm always free if you need me, but don't forget that there are many teachers here as well that would be glad to help you out."

Sirius had been grateful for the support, until Dumbledore had smiled in a way that made him look old and lined. He was obviously too busy to be troubled with the worries of a teenage Black. The teachers hated Sirius, anyways, why should they help him? Dumbledore had lied to Sirius.

After that, Sirius had quietly – for once – exited the large headmaster's office, and he had walked down the halls, sulking.

Why did people lie to him? He wasn't made of glass! He wouldn't shatter and break down because one person said no. He had been raised in a family that had constantly said no to him. They had never had the time to eat meals together, nor had they ever done something as a family. Black family reunions were based off of lies, too. He hated them almost as much as he despised the idea of someone lying to him.

James looked at him as Sirius stepped through the portrait hole, looking sheepish. He was hiding something; Sirius could sense it.

"What's up, James?"

James' eyes went all shifty and unfocused, and Sirius became aware of the fact that James couldn't lie convincingly to his best friend. That would have been a good thing, as it meant that Sirius would easily be able to tell when there was a lie being thrown in his face as opposed to the truth. Unfortunately, it also meant that James was lying to him.

"Nothing, Sirius."

"Fine."

Who cared about James anyway? James with the loving family and the wonderful friends. James with the quidditch skills of a pro, the intelligence of a Ravenclaw, and the cunning of a Slytherin when it came to pranks. James that was his best friend. Was, indeed. No best friend would lie to him like that.

So he left James to stare at his back as he walked up the stairs.

He hated liars. He hated them with all of his heart. The heart that lots of people said didn't exist. And that hurt too, a lot more than the smiles and the looks. Did they think he was some sort of hypocrite? He was honest to others, and expected it in return. No matter what his heritage, he was a Gryffindor. He loved being one, too. It was more fun than being in the other houses.

Mainly because the other houses didn't have a person that had a smile that could make even the worst day of his life more than bearable.

Sirius pushed open the door to the dormitory, planning on a long shower and then to go to sleep. There was no use in going back downstairs when all James wanted to do was lie. No reason to go pull some pranks because he hated that false smile he had recently discovered Dumbledore used.

But his plans were stopped as two warm arms encircled his body. They were comforting and they fit against him perfectly.

Without conscious decision, he melted into them. One slid up to the top of his spine, the base of his neck, and it began stroking. The other stayed where it was, on the small of his back. Words of comfort were being whispered into his ear. It was the same thing he did to Remus after every full moon. There was nothing better than to stay here in his arms. Nothing better.

If this moment could be frozen for all of time, Sirius wouldn't mind living.

He pulled back a bit, just to catch the faint hints of a smile on Remus' lips. The arms around him loosened, and Remus lifted his hands to Sirius' face, the tip of one finger touching the right corner of his mouth, and the tip of another touching the left corner of his lip. The fingers tugged insistently, and his face was pulled into a smile. Small, but a smile nonetheless. Remus himself was smiling. It wasn't a fake smile, or a smile that wasn't really one at all. It wasn't one that was deliberately hiding something, nor was it full of spite, sarcasm, or any other mean thing.

This one was full of love, and Sirius could see it light up not only his lips, but his eyes too. The love and the sincerity set Remus' cheeks off so they were a soft shade of pink.

It radiated off of him too, and when Remus leaned in to place his lips against Sirius', there was a warmth there. A shared warmth that filled his heart and made him want to sing.

Suddenly, Slytherins were of no consequence, Pomfrey could do what she wanted. Dumbledore had his own life to attend to, and who ever knew what went on with James?

In this moment, with Remus pressed against him, Sirius laughed. It was a real laugh, and Remus joined in.

It wasn't just a smile that they shared after that, it was their love for each other.

"What's that muggle saying, the one Dumbledore always repeats?" Sirius asked, curling up against Remus under the blankets.

"He's got many say-You're talking about the "love makes the world go 'round" one, right?"

Sirius grinned, Moony just got him. Remus smiled back.

Maybe smiles weren't so bad after all.