Sirius was going insane.
Why else would he find himself wanting to rip Remus to shreds? Ever since they had gotten back from Christmas break, he felt like he was walking a thin wire. Everything Remus did drove him up the wall. It was odd considering they had spent most of the break together without incident.
The Lupins had a modest, secluded cottage out on the moors and the boys had made plans to stay there for the week. James had abandoned them after finding out that the Evans girl would be spending the whole break at Hogwarts. Peter had stayed as well; favoring James's genial teasing over Sirius's moods, and the prospect of sleeping alone in the house as Remus turned in the cellar and Padfoot paced by the barricaded door.
It had been almost fun. The two boys flew there on their brooms as it was only an hours hard ride from the castle, and they'd managed to make a race out of it.
The maintenance charms on the place were quite strong, but apparently had not considered dust within their purview. Remus had made short work of the housekeeping with a few simple spells while Sirius explored the cellar, and deemed it suitable for a changing.
Despite a roaring fire, Sirius had insisted on complaining about the cold and spent most of the time in dog form, but they both welcomed the companionable silence.
Remus had turned two days after they'd arrived, and spent the rest of the week in Calluna Cottage recuperating. Sirius had found it easier to comfort him in his dog form, which never hesitated to curl up next to Remus and lay it's head in his lap as he stared absently at nothing, battered and glassy eyed.
By the end of the week, Remus was eating again without Padfoot nipping at his ankles, and sat bundled up in the unruly snow capped garden as a distant speck of black dog chased rabbits through the snow, deliriously happy to be running under the sky again.
x x x
He smelled Remus before he saw him. It was a scent that kicked him in the chest, breaking his train of thought and instantly setting him on edge.
"You're up early." Remus said. He collapsed into the chair across from Sirius, who replied with a grunt.
Sirius looked down at his oatmeal and tried to compose himself. He focused on his now congealing breakfast, the chunks of apple and flecks of cinnamon, and the sounds of the half-empty Great Hall as other students ate theirs.
It was ridiculously early. They still had over an hour before their first class together, and Sirius was only here because he thought the others would still be in bed. He had just wanted a few moments of quiet to think without Remus walking, sleeping, studying, or breathing next to him.
Sirius took a moment to adjust to the sound of Remus's steady breathing. Adjusting to his maddening proximity and his smell (Irish soap, peppermint, damp hair, and just him) took more effort. He risked a glance at his friend and instantly regretted it.
Remus looked the picture of health expertly shoveling eggs into his mouth as he skimmed through a large book. The color was back in his cheeks and the bruises had faded. His brows knitted together and a focused wrinkle had etched itself into his forehead. Sirius was examining his friend's infuriating face when a pink tongue crept out Remus's face to pensively lick some invisible substance off his top lip.
"I'm going to kill him." The thought formed right before Sirius suppressed the urge to sink his teeth into Remus's neck. He picked up a spoon and filled his mouth with cold oatmeal, chewing slowly.
As if he could sense that he was the subject of inner turmoil, Remus looked up at Sirius absently, without really seeing him. Whatever Remus was reading was puzzling him and he gazed absently at the air above Sirius's head and released a soft resigned sigh.
A low growl of frustration snapped them both out of their thoughts. As Remus shot him a wide eyed look that morphed into one of concern, Sirius realized that the desperate, almost pleading sound was coming from his own throat.
He slackened his jaw and stood quickly.
"Don't feel well, going back to bed." He strode towards the large doors leading out of the hall. He didn't wait for a reply. His excuse sounded pathetic, even to him.
He slowed his pace as he got further away from the Great Hall. He stopped suddenly, startling a trio of first years, as he realized that he wasn't sure where he was escaping to. After a moment of thought, he turned towards the Gryffindor dormitories.
Maybe some more sleep would do him some good.