Looking back as he lay in bed in the dormitory that night, Sirius Black could hardly believe how it all had happened; how, in the course of a day, he had disappointed his entire family, found he was not the least bit sorry for it, and, perhaps most astonishingly, managed to make two friends all on his own. The friend bit hadn't even been nearly as difficult as he had feared. Indeed, it had actually turned out to be quite enjoyable, and he was now eager to make more of them.

As for his family…he would just have to wait for the blow to fall. No doubt Bellatrix had already sent out countless owls with the scandalous news that Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor, and it was only a matter of time before all the outrage descended upon him. And their ire would only double when they discovered he had made friends with a blood traitorous, mudblood-loving boy like James Potter. Somehow, though, the thought of his family's reaction only made him keener to be James' friend.

Sirius let his mind wander back to that morning on the Hogwarts Express.

"Hullo. Mind if I sit here?"

"All right, then."

"I'm James. James Potter. What's your name?"

"I'm Sirius."

"Never said you weren't, mate; you look right serious to me."

"No, no no…Sirius is my name. Seriously."

A snort of laughter and a shared grin.

"Sorry. Bet you've gotten that one a lot."

"Not really, no. Honest! My—my family aren't really the joking sort, to tell you the truth."

Then tiny, plump Peter Pettigrew had stumbled into their compartment, and with each passing moment, as tentative jokes quickly turned into raucous laughter, Sirius had begun to feel more at home here with these friendly, gleeful faces than he ever had at home. Here, among eager grins and hearty welcomes, among the first real friends he had ever made in his life, was where he belonged. He decided, then and there, that he would never give them up for anything. Never mind the strict austerity of his parents and their hostile pride. They could not hurt him here. He would not let them hurt him here.

/ / /

As days and, before he knew it, weeks passed, Sirius settled into his new life with relish. At last he was free to become his own person, judged for himself rather than defined by his bloodline. Everywhere he went he had James and Peter by his side. The three of them occupied their free time exploring every square inch of Hogwarts castle, playing very loud games of Exploding Snap in the common room (much to the exasperation of the older students), and generally tormenting their decided enemy, Severus Snape. James had singled out Severus as the object of his distaste from the very first, and it seemed that Severus had done the same with regard to James. The loathing between the two of them had sparked so immediately and absolutely it must have been chemical.

Of course Sirius and Peter were quick to stand by their friend, but Sirius also had his own personal reasons to despise Snivellus. Not only was Severus Snape simply an all around nasty person, he also reminded Sirius uncomfortably of himself. Or rather, he reminded Sirius of what he might have become had he never met James—had he played by the rulebook and allowed himself to be sorted into Slytherin. He could just see himself as the revolting little git Snape was: see himself living under his cousin Bellatrix's constant rule, hanging around her bunch of gutless slimeballs like Snape, delighting in anti-muggle humor like Snape, calling "mudblood" throughout the corridors like Snape, glorifying the Dark Arts like Snape. The thought of it made him sick, and he wanted to distance himself from such a life as much as possible.

Just as he had expected, Bellatrix had lost no time sending the news of Sirius' nonconformity to everyone she knew. Sirius received several letters from various disgusted relatives, and Bellatrix never failed to glower at him whenever they passed each other in the corridors, but as yet he had heard nothing from his parents. He supposed their disappointment was too great to put into words.

Even with these slight unpleasantries, though, Sirius was having the time of his life.

However, he had noticed that one of the other boys in his dormitory did not seem to be having so wonderful a time. Remus Lupin kept so much to himself that he was often difficult to find. For the most part everyone ignored him. In fact, Sirius wondered whether any of the other Gryffindors would even recognize Remus as their classmate, as he constantly had his face obscured behind some book or other. But Sirius did not ignore him; Sirius knew what he looked like. He knew how Remus' thin, pale face always managed to look peaky, how his eyebrows narrowed in concentration as he read, and how he always sat as though trying to take up as little space as possible.

He could not have said why he had taken such an interest in Remus: perhaps because he could relate to the feeling of being an outsider. Or maybe it just made him annoyingly sad to see someone sitting alone with a book while everyone else enjoyed themselves. Not that there was anything wrong with books. Books were perfectly fine, of course, but there was a time and a place for them—and that time and place was not every bloody waking moment. Either way, Sirius made up his mind that he would no longer permit the boy to sit by himself.

The first day Sirius decided to talk to Remus, he could not find him anywhere. It was evening, past curfew, and everyone was lounging about the common room as usual. James was helping Peter with his transfiguration homework, and Sirius, having just finished his own, sat back in his chair and panned the room lazily. He was not at all surprised when he could not spot Remus right away, but even upon closer examination his presence did not become apparent. Perhaps he had already gone up to bed, Sirius thought. But when the three of them finally returned to the dormitory themselves, Remus' four-poster stood unmistakably empty.

A feeling of unease crept over Sirius as he tried to sleep. Lupin was the very last person Sirius would have expected to roam school corridors by night. That meant that something was wrong. Was he ill?

Remus remained absent all through the next day too. No one else seemed to have noticed, but Sirius could not take his eyes off the empty desk in every subsequent class. By the end of that day, he had half a mind to go check the hospital wing—so he would at least know that Remus was still alive.

However, he was spared the trouble of doing so when, on the third day, a loud snore broke through the monotonous drone of their History of Magic lesson. Though no one in the classroom could count themselves among those who had never dozed off in one of Professor Binns' classes, most of them had had the sense to do so discreetly. Everyone's heads turned and Sirius, jerking out of a hazy stupor himself, swiveled around to see the hardly noticeable yet unmistakable form of Remus Lupin. He was sitting slumped over his desk, with his forehead resting on his roll of parchment and a fair bit of his fringe floating in his inkbottle. The girl to his right gave him a soft poke in the shoulder, and he sprang upright, looking stricken.

"Sorry," he breathed, mortified. A few people sniggered. Professor Binns resumed his lecture, and the room relapsed into lethargy.

As it was Friday, Sirius, James, and Peter celebrated the start of the weekend that night with their usual, excessively rowdy version of Exploding Snap. Determined not to let him disappear again, Sirius kept a sharp eye fixed on Remus, who had managed to land himself one of the best armchairs by the fireplace. When James scored his third win in a row and decided to circle the common room in a victory lap, Sirius went over to him.

Remus jumped. "Sorry, did you want this seat?" he exclaimed, frantically gathering up his books and parchment.

"No! No, I just—I don't think we've met properly, that's all," Sirius stammered, taken slightly aback by this strange greeting. "I'm Sirius Black." He extended a hand.

Slowly Remus took it. "Remus Lupin," he muttered suspiciously, as though afraid that this was some kind of joke.

"Er… d'you want to come join us? We've been playing Exploding Snap."

By this time James and Peter had ambled over to see what Sirius was up to.

"I've—never played before." Remus shrugged his shoulders sheepishly.

James' mouth fell open in horror. "You've never—you've never played Exploding Snap?" He was beside himself. "It's only the best game in existence! Apart from Quidditch, of course, but that's entirely different—it's not too difficult really, though there is a certain element of skill to it—come on, come on, I'll hand you a deal—I mean, reel you a—cards—I mean—" losing the ability of coherence, he abandoned words and dragged Remus manually from his chair.

As it turned out, Remus was a quick learner. He caught on to the game almost immediately, and soon gave even James a run for his galleons. Up close Sirius could see that Remus looked exhausted. His face seemed even paler than usual, with dark rings below his eyes. Sirius even noticed a few scars etched across his cheek. By the end of the night, however, Remus was positively glowing.