One week earlier

Remus blew into his pinched, red palms as he crossed his legs on the hard wooden bench. The air had turned to frost over the space of a single night and the entire Quidditch pitch had frozen over; the once-billowing banners and flags that surrounded the stands stood motionless, frozen stiff, and icicles hung menacingly from the goal-hoops. Sirius had had to practically beg James not to call off Quidditch practice, and rest of the team's stares were almost as cold as their fingers as he swooped around the pitch, crying out for the Quaffle.

"Come on, Gregory!" He called out over the whip of the wind. "I'll give it back, promise!" The burly, shaven-headed Chaser threw the Quaffle to Sirius angrily, who went spinning over his broom as he caught the full force of the throw. His long, black hair covered his face like a mask as he shook his head wildly, clearing his sight as he ducked out of the way of an oncoming Bludger.

"Sirius! Over here!" Came the cry from a slender, blonde girl on the wing. The two of them flew together and rolled to dodge the returning Bludger and Sirius extended his arm as they passed, wrenching it back as she reached out hers and speeding away ahead of her towards the goal, easily beating the nervous keeper.

Remus sighed from the stands. Sirius was, by all accounts, a very talented Quidditch player, but his ego got the better of him at the worst possible moments. Pulling his scarf tighter around his mouth and nose he rocked back and forth in his seat, wondering if either of them would thank him for not electing to stay warm in bed like Peter had.

"What was that?" the blonde girl yelled at Sirius as they wheeled away back to their own half. "I hope you're not planning to get away with that kind of thing against Ravenclaw!" She broke off to soar into the air, leaving Sirius grinning as he admired her form, circling around the goal hoops. Remus stood and walked down the bleachers to stand against the rail, frowning as he watched Sirius hang around his own goals and watch his team-mates practise. Why did he have to be so difficult?

After a few minutes James blew his whistle and ordered a huddle on the ground. The team flew their brooms to the centre spot, their boots crunching on the icy ground as they stood in a circle. Gregory shot a look to Sirius as he barged his way past, standing deliberately opposite the blonde girl, leaning on his broom. "Alright," James began as the Gryffindors turned their attention to him. "That was a good first try, Francis and Belle were especially good." Two Beaters smiled at his praise. "Keepers, you're both doing well, but Vivian, don't stick to the middle goal-hoop. There's three, you know." A ripple of laughter rose from the huddle as he concluded, "And Sirius, you're playing well but you need to pass more. You need to form an effective partnership with…with…" James blushed as he gestured to the blonde girl, having obviously forgotten her name.

"Erin," she replied quietly, her eyes thin and unimpressed. "Erin Kovacs." James nodded vigorously, unsuccessfully hiding his embarrassment.

"Well then," he resumed, tapping his broom on the ground, "let's get back up there." As one the Gryffindor team mounted their brooms and soared up into the air, taking their sides as James blew the whistle and the game restarted. Almost immediately Sirius dived to scoop up the Quaffle and roared past the opposing Chasers, weaving his way around Bludgers. Gregory flew alongside Sirius and yelled at him for the Quaffle, but Sirius banked away to offload the Quaffle onto Erin. This repeated itself a dozen times or more; Remus grunted in frustration and smacked the handrail on the bleachers. It was so like Sirius, he thought, to co-operate in the most obtuse way possible.

The mountainous Gregory was losing his temper. Time and again he would veer into Sirius and attempt to take the Quaffle from him by force, and time and again Sirius would swerve and roll to escape his meaty grasp. When at last he got the Quaffle, Sirius flew alongside him and, with unmitigated nerve, shouted out, "Come on Gregory, don't be such a Quaffle-hog!"

Gregory threw the Quaffle at Sirius's legs with furious force, aiming to shatter a shinbone. At the last minute Sirius leapt into splits over his broom and the Quaffle whizzed past him to where Erin was flying in support. She was caught totally off-guard; the Quaffle smashed into her face with a sickening thud. The entire Gryffindor team froze as they watched her fly from her broom and tumble down to the icy ground, slamming into it mercilessly. The cry arose as they all flew down to inspect her, some leaping from their brooms at over six feet from the ground to run to her side. James had torn through the sky like a bullet to get to her first and knelt at her head, ordering the others to stand back as they began to surround her.

"She needs room to breathe!" he barked at them, running his fingers along the side of her neck and wiping at the blood on her face desperately. "Broom!" he yelled at a wide-eyed, shivering second year, who immediately acquiesced. Hog-tying Erin's hands and feet, James slid the broom beneath the binds and watched her rise from the ground slowly. "I'm taking her to Madame Pomfrey," he instructed the gathered Gryffindors. "Training's cancelled, go back to the common room!" Immediately he shot off to the castle, one hand grasping the broom from which Erin swung precariously.

Sirius had floated down to the ground at a leisurely pace and was the last to join the huddle. One by one all eyes in the group turned to him, staring daggers. "What?" he retorted, genuinely annoyed. "Don't look at me like that, we all know it was Greg Nevis here who threw the Quaffle!" Gregory stepped forward out of the rabble and gave Sirius a vicious shove.

"You've been taking the piss all day, Black," he spat, his Irish brogue strangely high and unsuited to his hulking frame. "You guilt Potter into putting training on when it's minus ten, you hog the Quaffle and then you don't show an ounce of remorse when you end up nearly killing one of your team-mates!" Sirius scoffed dramatically, casting his eyes around as if he was unable to believe he was being chastised in this way.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, Gregory, old chap," he replied, his voice soft and mocking, "but technically, wasn't it you who nearly killed Erica?"

"Erin!" Gregory screeched back, disgusted at Sirius' nonchalance. "Do other people mean that little to you? You act like this team only exists to give you something to do and to get out of having to do your bloody History of Magic homework, but we don't need a spoilt pureblood like you with us!"

Remus had had enough. He set off down the stairs inside the tower, making his way out to the pitch. Sirius was definitely as stupid as he was arrogant, and without reining in Remus could tell the situation down on the ground would turn very ugly, very quickly.

"Oh…is that so?" Sirius looked up to Gregory, their eyes locking. The bald-headed Irishman was breathing heavily, seething with anger. "I suppose that'd be true, yeah…if we had a Chaser who wasn't either an asthmatic Paddy or currently a vegetable."

The blow came out of nowhere and lifted Sirius off his feet. Gregory's great, rock-like fist had swung out from his body with a roar and connected sharply with Sirius' head, knocking him sideways like he'd been hit by a train. Through the stars and pinpricks that clouded his vision Sirius managed to retrieve his wand from his robes and stabbed towards Gregory with it. "Reducto!" he barked as the Irishman tried in vain to shield himself from the spell with his bare arms. The blast from the end of Sirius' wand sent him flying backwards into the crowd, crushing several other players with his massive weight as the group descended into pandemonium.

Remus came rushing out onto the frozen pitch just as Gregory recovered and fought off the restraining arms of his team-mates to bring out his wand and yell "Malleacta!" A steel-grey column of shadow flew from the end of his wand, hitting the supine Sirius squarely in the stomach and sending him sliding painfully along the frosty ground. Remus withdrew his own wand, pointing it at Gregory as the others managed to successfully hold him back while Sirius coughed in a heap.

"There's no need for this," he called out, his jaw chattering in the biting cold, "no need to act like common brutes!" Gregory's green eyes burned fiercely into his as Remus hoped he could quell the fury behind them. "I think we should all go to the infirmary and see how Erin is doing," he suggested, casting his eyes around the whole group, "instead of kicking great lumps out of each other."

The Irishman's rage slowly subsided, his whole body relaxing as he seemed to visibly deflate. One by one the hands restraining him let go, until he stood still panting and hard-faced in the snow, yet bereft of the murderous anger from which he had so recently suffered. "Aye," he replied softly, "but he ain't coming." He pointed to Sirius, who remained crumpled on the ground.

Slowly he walked over to Sirius' broom and took it up in two fat-fingered hands. A gasp went round the team; all of them knew what was coming, but few thought Sirius did not deserve it, and fewer were willing to stop him. With a single swift motion he brought it down upon his knee, splintering the wood sharply and tossing the two shattered pieces over to Sirius. "'Cause o' him, a girl may not be able to walk," he said to Remus. "He'll be truly thankful for that which he's taken away by the time you drag his arse back to the castle."

The team mounted their brooms in silence with all eyes on Sirius' coughing, hacking form, a crumpled mass of red robes in the snow. Some sent vicious glares, others showed great pity for his pitiful state. One by one they all left and flew towards the castle towering in the distance. Alone together, Remus pocketed his wand and knelt over Sirius, lifting him up delicately.

"Come on, Sirius," he muttered to him mournfully as he helped him stand. "Let's go home."