It was James who noticed first. Not that he knew what it meant; he could be stupid sometimes. But everything fell into place for me when he grouched that Evans was cross with him again, and anyone would think that she and Remus had the same illness.

'Puts him in the hospital wing and makes her bitchy as all get-out. Regular as clockwork, every month. I think it's a hex.'

It was also my first inkling that I would need to have a series of complex and possibly illustrated chats with Potter over the coming years, but at the time, I patted him on the head and ran to the library.

McGonners stopped me in the hallway, and encouraged me to head to whatever devilry I was up to at a more decorous pace.

'Independent research, professor!' I chirped.

'God save us all,' she muttered darkly in reply.

Miss Pince was torn between delight that a student had come to work without an armful of homework, and horror that student was me.

'Perhaps I could collect the books for you, and you could look over them at my desk?' she suggested.

'I'm fine, Miss Pince,' I smiled brightly. 'Your talk on the joy of learning inspired me!'

'Yes, but I didn't mean that you should want to touch the books ...'

After I showed her my carefully washed hands, and swore on my family name that I wasn't hiding any incendiary devices under my robes, she let me loose in the general section. It wasn't hard to find the books I was looking for. Half an hour, and I had enough to prove my hypothesis. I wandered up to the Hospital Wing, and found Remus eating his breakfast gingerly.

'Toast and marmalade at eleven, Lupin? You degenerate.'

He waved two fingers randomly in my direction, but seemed happy enough to see me. 'Come to make sure I'm not dead?'

I sat down on the chair beside his bed and swiped a piece of his toast. 'Come to tell you you're rumbled.'

'Oh yes?'

'Yup, eighteen months of you buggering off every full moon and I have, at long last, figured it out.'

'Hardly every full moon.'

I caught his eyes. 'Every full moon, Remus. I've been counting.'

He blinked, but he didn't look away. He looked … nervous.

'It's all right,' I reassured him. 'I think it's brilliant!'

He did look away at that. 'It's not brilliant,' he muttered. 'Anything but.'

'Are you joking?' I exclaimed.

'Shhhhhh!' He looked down the row of beds to where one of the Hufflepuffs was nursing a broken wrist.

I lowered my voice to a whisper and continued. 'It is brilliant! You can change shape, you can run about the moors, you're special!'

'It's not like that. They lock me in a shack so I won't attack anyone. And it hurts.' His eyes met mine again, and they were sad.

'When people find out, they're disgusted. And they're scared.'

I hadn't even realised that I'd taken his hand. 'I'm not scared. And I think you're brilliant. Explains why you can always smell Pettigrew's socks,' I said, trying to make him laugh.

'Sirius …'

'I won't tell them,' I promised. 'Though James will probably work it out, and he won't be able to resist telling me and Peter.'

Remus nodded, sadly. 'It was only ever a matter of time.'

'But,' my brain had finally kicked into gear, 'it's actually good if we all know. We can come up with much better ways of dealing with it than you ending up in the hospital wing every month.'

He did smile at that. 'Oh yes?'

'Well, for a start, we pad the walls of that shack so you stop looking as though you've been in a riot.'

'Sounds very tasteful, like an asylum.'

'But in elegant colours!' I grinned. 'And it's only humans you feel impelled to attack, isn't it?'

I grinned more widely at his surprised nod. 'I did research,' I told him. 'So, since you're always well-fed and are, no doubt, a highly genteel wolf, I suggest we buy you a pet. Maybe a puppy, or a goat.'

'That we keep in the dormitory for the rest of the month. Excellent plan, and one that stands no chance of coming to any dismal end.'

'I knew you'd approve.'

I stayed with him till he was ready to leave. I only noticed that I was still holding his hand when he had to change out of his pyjamas.

...........................................

For a few weeks after the attack on the Bones house, things were quiet. Remus and I settled down to an easy routine: breakfasts in Muggle London, and afternoons at Headquarters if there was any strategising to be done, or popping onto the bike and going for a ride if there wasn't. It was a strange kind of lull where we were grateful for the peace, but never easy in it.

As often as not we'd end up in bed – ours, a hotel's – with our ongoing quest to finesse our fumblings into something approaching grace. It was never easy between us, we were both strong, selfish. And now we were quiet, holding inside the fears that could never be left at bay. But we tried to be tender, my fingers in his hair, his lips on my throat. And if there were sometimes bruises, there was always desire, and it was met. It was still comfort of a sort, though not the kind we had once been to each other.

James and Lily returned, full of glee and newness, and Caradoc Dearborn disappeared, along with his library and collection of artefacts. His house was eerily neat, with vacant spaces the only thing marking the wrongness.

Sometimes Remus woke me while we were sleeping, with kicks and murmurs, or a snarl. I'd hold him, and smooth his hair till he stopped, or woke. He used to tell me that he was chasing rabbits in his dreams when he was like this at school, he never gave a reason now. But his sleep was more disturbed than ever, and he grew pale, and worried.

That's probably why I left him in bed the night Lily Flooed to tell me that Peter hadn't shown up for dinner. James had gone to look at Mrs Pettigrew's, but had drawn a blank. They were worried, could I poke about at Diagon Alley? It wasn't far …

It turned out to be a beautiful night for a ride. I smiled at the feel of hair whipping in the wind. Remus was on at me to cut it shorter, I think because he was tired of it in his face. He'd bought me goggles for my birthday, they were brilliant, I even wore them flying when I remembered. I felt like a mad alchemist aboard an iron broom, off to vanquish witch hunters.

I probably should have been concentrating more. At least I had slowed to a crawl for a tight Canning Town corner when they hit me. The hex took the bike out from under me, and I slid across the road, grateful for the leathers. It was a good fall, as they go, and I was able to roll behind a parked car with barely a pause for breath as two sets of feet landed with brooms.

'He's over there,' barked a man's voice.

I scuttled to the next car, moments before the first was flipped out from the gutter. My wand was drawn, but I needed them closer together before I tried an attack: the odds were better that way.

'No point hiding, Black,' the second Death Eater called out. 'We know it's you, and we know someone who's keen for a little chat.'

It was galling to admit that Remus was right and the bike was an indulgence. I decided then that if I lived, I'd admit it to him. But first I had to ensure the living part.

Happily, they were stupid. The obvious tactic was to split up and approach me from different ends of the street, they approached each other instead. I had the moment I needed, but not the angle. Not stopping to think, I leapt out from my cover. They were both in front of me as I threw a Confringo, but I wasn't fast enough. The rearmost Death Eater mimicked my gesture, and we were hit by each other's spells almost simultaneously.

As I fell through the air I twisted, trying to keep my head up, to protect my neck. They don't lie when they say time slows down at these moments – but maybe it's more that your body speeds up. Thinking becomes focussed, uncluttered. The road knocked the wind from me as it hit my ribs, and I had too much speed to fall well this time. My head came down hard, the crack blinding, deafening, a moment of neural overload.

Then nothing. For a long instant, blackness and suspension. I was expecting pain, but so much pain doesn't register. And then it subsided a little, and I could think again, and feel again, and everything hurt. I tried to stand, but my leg didn't work. I tried again, and this time I heard myself scream as I put my foot to the ground. So I rolled into the gutter, instead.

My wand was there, a few feet in front of me. I crawled to it and cast a Lumos. The two Death Eaters had not regained consciousness. One of them did not appear to be breathing. I looked down. My foot was hanging off my leg at a wrong angle. My shoulder hurt, and my ribs wouldn't move properly. The side of my head was warm and wet. But I was still alive. Everything could heal.

Now I just needed to get home to Remus. As soon as I had a little nap.

He found me there some half hour later. I suppose I was dazed, though I thought I was clear. I saw a taxi go past the cross street, towards Victoria Dock Road, but no one else in sight. When I heard his step, I thought it was a Muggle coming home. I was going to ask for a taxi. But it was him. And he was running.

'You stupid fool,' he panted, holding me up out of the dampness. 'Are you all right? Oh you idiot, look at you.'

'I'm all right,' I whispered. 'I think I broke my foot.'

He told me he had looked over half of London for me, found me by scent. I made him park the bike before he Apparated me to St Mungo's. He threatened to blow it up, but he lifted it instead and rolled it back onto its stand. And then he held me to his chest, and the world spun, and we were in the foyer and he was shouting for help.

He stayed with me through the night, sleeping a little in the chair beside my bed. Around four in the morning I woke to the sound of voices.

'But he's all right?'

It was Regulus, and he was standing close, his face worried and drawn.

'He'll be fine. He just needs to sleep. His bones will be knitted by morning.'

'They were bragging about it,' Reggie said with a shiver. 'Muncible found them. He brought Avery back, he was bragging he'd killed a Black. Thought it was all very funny, even though he looks a mess. Malfalda still hasn't woken up. I had to wait until the celebratory drinks were over before I could leave.'

Remus had a hand on his shoulder. 'Avery's an idiot. But let him think he succeeded if you like, it will buy him a few days' peace. Why were they after him?'

Regulus looked at him in surprise. 'Because he's not meant to be with you,' he answered honestly. 'He's meant to be one of us.'

'Not likely,' I croaked.

They were at my side in a second, each with one of my hands.

'Are you all right?' Reggie looked so young.

'Come to finish the job?' I asked, mostly joking.

'Not funny, Sirius. I can't stay long, are you all right?'

I gripped his hand tightly. 'I'm fine, and you can stay. Stay properly. It's serious now, and I don't want you out there.'

He gripped back, and pushed my hair out of my eyes. 'I'll stay.' He smiled at me. 'For tonight. But tomorrow there are things I have to do.'

'Don't make me hex you, Reggie,' I muttered, but I was already falling asleep.

When I woke later that day, Remus told me that he had left around seven. I never saw him again.

.............................................

It was Peter who came up with the idea of learning to be Animagi. More or less.

James was working on the idea that we would buy Remus a lion from Harrod's. He'd read a story in one of my magazines that convinced him it was a workable plan. I had filled the Shrieking Shack with ropes and balls and cow bones every month for Remus to worry. Peter, who had spent the days before and after the first full moon after being told with his wand in his hand, just rolled his eyes and declared that with all this fuss, it would be easier if Lupin did bite us, so we could be werewolves, too.

He was smart enough to say it out of Remus's hearing, so I didn't need to smack him, though I was tempted to anyway, for form's sake. But it made me think.

'Werewolves only attack humans, unless they want to eat,' I mused.

'Thank you so much, Black, I had never realised, but you are a font of information,' James replied helpfully.

'Shut up Potter, you wally. I'm thinking.'

'I can hear the whirring from here.'

'Oh, the hilarity.' I paced the room for a few minutes, finally flopping down on James's bed. 'I have a plan,' I announced. 'And, needless to say, it is genius. Pettigrew, you were right.'

'I was?' he squeaked.

'Except for the bit about us being werewolves. But we could be wolves!' I announced with a flourish.

They looked at me. Expectantly. For about a minute.

'And?' James finally prodded.

'That's it.'

'That's the plan?'

'That's the plan.'

'But Polyjuice doesn't work with animals,' Peter protested, 'It won't work. And anyway, he'd know what we are underneath.'

'He's not talking about Polyjuice,' James realised.

'I am not,' I confirmed.

'He's talking about becoming Animagi.'

'That is correct.'

James grinned at me and I grinned back at him. Peter gibbered at me, pointing his finger and shaking his head.

'Oh come on,' I grinned encouragingly at him. 'How hard can it be?'

Three years later, we stopped Remus as he left Hogwarts. It was a few weeks after the start of fifth year, and the full moon was conveniently on a Saturday.

'Moony, do you have a minute?' I asked.

He glanced at his watch. 'Sure, half an hour, what's up?'

'I've something to show you. Won't take that long. Walk with you to Hogsmeade?'

We ambled out through the school gates, enjoying the new freedoms that came with being OWLs students. I teased him about his prefecture, again, he ignored me, again. He asked which girl I was bothering this week, and I barked. He walked a few steps, then turned towards me. Then looked down.

'Sirius?'

I put my paws on his shoulders and licked his face.

Laughing, he pushed me off. 'Sirius? That's really you? How in Circe's name did you …' He stopped, and looked at me quietly. 'That's really you.'

I changed back, my hands still on his shoulders. 'It is. Occurred to me you might like some company.'

He smiled that smile of his, and I gathered him into a hug.

'A big black dog,' he said, laughing. 'Of course you are.'

I stepped back and grinned at him. 'Irish wolfhound, I'd say. And there's more.'

We rounded the corner and were met by a stag with a rat standing up proudly on its hind legs. Remus looked from them to my nodding smile, and back again. He burst out into gales of laughter, to the point that I had to hold him up.

James transfigured back and joined in. 'We knew you'd be impressed. Did you note the mightiness of my antlers and nobility of my stance?'

'You're a regular monarch of the glen, Potter,' Remus laughed. 'And Pettigrew, well done, a much more practical choice than either of these egomaniacs. No one would suspect you of compensating for anything.'

Peter shifted back to his rightful form and smiled brightly. 'You really think so?'

'I do,' Remus reassured him. 'So I take it that the three of you plan to test out the whole not-dangerous-to-animals theory tonight.'

'Very quick, Moony!' I congratulated him. 'As I see it, should it turn out that you are in fact a slathering sociopath of the animal world, I'll be able to hold you at bay long enough for James to change back and Shield me while we both run from the Shack, and Peter will be small enough to run through the cracks in the walls.'

'What if I turn on James first?'

'Evans will love you forever.'

'Hey! Don't listen to him. If you turn on me, Sirius will throw himself in front of me in a selfless bid to keep his best friends from rending each other to pieces. It will be a tragic loss and Evans will comfort me.'

Remus shook his head at the stupidity. 'Who'll comfort me?'

I flung a casual arm around his shoulders. 'I'll come back from the dead to haunt you and keep you company while these two eschew the bonds of brotherhood for cheap floozies.'

'Evans is not cheap,' James began to explain as we resumed the walk.

But I didn't listen to his detailed break-down of the cost of gifts to date. I was too busy concentrating on Remus's smile, and his muttered 'Well, that will be all right, then.'

.............................................

The Healers mended the bones, but it was several days before I could walk about the flat with anything approaching steadiness. Remus threatened to tie me to the bed, and I promised to enjoy it. James and Lily came by and cooked proper meals for us, ruining all our fun, but with care and love.

Peter was in and out of the flat with fruit baskets and bunches of flowers; he was mortified that the whole thing had been caused by his misunderstanding, he'd thought the dinner was for another night and had gone off for a game of darts with his cousin.

I reassured him that there was no lasting harm done, once Remus had retrieved the bike and it had turned out to have no worse damage than a scraped exhaust. It didn't stop Peter doing our laundry and our dishes, and Remus encouraged me to stop forgiving him until the house was clean.

On my third day at home, there was a loud knock at the door.

Remus came into the bedroom, frowning. 'Don't get upset,' he told me.

He moved from the doorway to reveal my father.

We blinked at each other a few times. For a moment, I was genuinely touched.

He took a half-step towards me. 'Sirius, is he here? Are you hiding him?'

Realisation came swiftly. 'Reggie? No, I saw him when I was in the hospital, but not since.'

'None of your people have …' his voice was barely more than a whisper.

I shook my head decisively. 'I was the last one attacked. He came to see me, to check I was all right.'

My father groaned. 'Stupid, stupid! He can't be seen with you!'

'I told him to stay!' I insisted. 'I told him I'd take care of him! But he left while we were sleeping.'

My father closed his eyes, and stood very still for a long minute. 'He hasn't been home. Kreacher can't find him. I think you got him killed.'

It felt as though I had stepped from a high place with nothing beneath me. 'I told him to stay,' I whispered. 'He told me he had things to do. I thought he would come here when he could.'

Father looked at me sadly. 'I know you did. Maybe he meant to. But then you'd just have got him killed a little later.'

He came to my bedside then, and kissed my forehead gently. 'Goodbye, son. I loved the both of you, remember that. I'll mourn you equally.'

'Dad, I'm not dead.'

He turned and walked towards the door.

'Dad!' I called after him, 'I'm not dead!'

I tried to chase after him, but the dizziness overtook me before I even made it to the door and Remus was too busy catching me to catch him.

'I told him to stay,' I repeated.

'You did,' Remus agreed, holding me tightly. 'I think he wanted to. But I think he had to come in his own way.'

'And they've killed him first.'

'Maybe he's just away? Maybe he's fled?'

I shook my head bitterly. 'Kreacher could always find him. When we were little and he'd hide in these stupid places, she'd send Kreacher after him and he'd Apparate him back. He could always find him.'

Remus held me tighter, and we both sank to the floor.

When my father died seven weeks later, I was told to stay away from the funeral. I did.

..........................................

Things at home had never been spectacular. Mother threw a book at my head when I taught Regulus to say 'groovy' the year before he started school. That should probably have been a sign.

But for the most part, it was a normal family. We sat down for dinner of an evening, had family spells, laughed when visitors were caught by the curtains. We yelled at each other, but no more so than most.

We had our little traditions and our little jokes. To this day I can blazon our arms: per chevron inverted sable and argent, three ravens close, on a chevron inverted gules a seme estoily sable, a gauntlet dexter grasping a wand, proper. Though I never held by the motto.

If it hadn't been for Voldemort, we might have gone on like this forever. Mother would have railed against my Muggle posters, Regulus would have been the Good One, Father would have poured me a drink on the sly in his study of an evening until I turned seventeen and could take one at the table. It wasn't so bad.

But Voldemort poisoned everything he touched. Underneath the surface the war bubbled away, infecting all of us. The Prophet stopped reporting attacks, stopped even reporting the names of the dead. One day there would be a family who worked to make you hand-tailored robes, the next day they would have disappeared and you would be shopping at Madame Malkin's with the hoi polloi.

I subscribed to The Times and The Sun. There was a lot of news in the latter that the former never covered and the Page Three girls were a mere happy accident. In later years, I came to rely on the tabloid for headlines such as 'Wolves Ate My Chickens' and 'Houses Crushed in Landslide: "Like Giant Stomped on Them"'. Even in those earlier days, the broadsheet had the most accurate obituaries column in the country, and I knew enough to recognise the names of the Muggleborn and part-Muggle as they began to appear regularly.

Mother was appalled that I'd have such filth in the house, so I had them delivered to a post office box in the holidays and only brought home clippings. Kreacher reported the box under my bed one summer, even though I had it carefully labelled Big Busty Brunettes. Maybe he was smarter than I thought and could see the obvious fallacy there.

James always blamed Mother for me leaving home, but if I am being honest, and I am trying to be, we were both at fault.

Because there was no real need for me to paint my room in Gryffindor colours and wear my scarf at home. And I am fairly sure that everyone understood we'd won the house cup over Slytherin on my first mention each year, and the subsequent few hundred were probably redundant.

Remus once pointed out that Mother and I were very much alike and, though I threatened to punch him for it, he was probably right.

But it was Kreacher who provoked the final argument. He came trotting to the dinner table holding the offending box, a clipping held with delicate disgust between his long fingers. 'Mistress has banned these items from her house,' he declared. 'Foul, unnatural, unmoving pages!'

I rolled my eyes and made a grab for the box. He darted away, and I had my wand in my hand and a hex on my lips before I even stopped to think.

'Sirius!' My father's voice stopped me. 'You are at the table. You have been told not to bring those publications into the house and now you attempt to assault our senior elf in a fit of pique because you have been found out. What are you thinking?'

I muttered an apology, and things might have ended there if Mother hadn't weighed in. 'You're a disgrace to the good name of Black.'

'How so?' I'd meant to think it, but the words rang out.

'All this Muggle-loving. Do you think they care? Do you think the Mudbloods will be filled with gratitude? Is that it? Is there a girl?'

I ignored Reggie's snort of laughter at that.

'I argue for Muggle rights because it is the right thing to do,' I replied, with as much dignity as I could muster. 'Grindelwald's plans for Wizarding domination went with live in an age of tolerance, you know.'

She narrowed her eyes. 'Gellert Grindelwald was not the only one to see the way forward for our kind. You wait and see. A time will come when the natural order is re-established, and it may not be long at that.'

'Well, which natural order is it, Mother? Wizards and witches are better than Muggles, or Muggle-born are lesser than purebloods? Because if it's magic that makes us superior, then they are, too.'

'You take that back,' she hissed.

'Mum, Sirius …' Regulus's smirk disappeared and was replaced by a worried look. 'He's just showing off to get a rise out of you. Ignore him. He doesn't even know any Muggle-born. All his mates are purebloods.'

And I should have thought before I tossed back, 'Not like yours.'

He looked at me blankly, and, like an idiot, I went on. 'What, hasn't Snivellus told you who his father was? Haven't any of you had the sense to wonder why he's the only Snape you know?'

'Leave Sev out of this, he's a good and decent person and you lot make his life a misery.'

'He's as much of a blood zealot as you are, yet his father was a Muggle.'

Regulus launched himself across the table at me. 'Take it back!'

He landed a few good punches, I was so surprised that I didn't even fight back. And then he was being hauled back by one strong hand, and another had me by the collar and our Father was turning from one to the other to glare and fume, and if only one of us had thought to laugh then, it would still have been all right.

But Mother spoke instead. 'You will not assault your brother in my house!'

'Fine.' I took a step back and brushed down my robes. 'I'll be on my way then.'

'Sit down and eat your dinner like a civilised person,' Father ordered.

'He wouldn't know how,' Mother spat.

I threw my napkin on the table. 'I've had enough of this, I'm going where I'm appreciated.'

She pointed a finger at me. 'I will not be spoken to that way. If you walk out that door, don't think you can come back.'

'Mum!' Reggie was appalled.

But I still wasn't thinking. 'Fine,' I said. 'I'll not offend your delicate sensibilities any further.'

Regulus called after me. 'Sirius! Don't be an idiot! Siri!'

'He'll come back,' said my father, and his was the last voice I heard as the door closed behind me.

I sat under a tree in the square for about half an hour while I pondered what to do. Regulus climbed down from the top floor with my broom tied to his back, and came to sit beside me.

'She's really mad.' He untied the broom and passed it to me.

'I know.'

'Should I send your stuff to the Potters'?'

'I s'pose.'

'Just go back in and tell her you're sorry.'

'But I'm not.'

'Lie.'

'We lie all the time, Reggie, I'm tired of it.'

'Merlin, you're up yourself.'

We sat silently for a few minutes.

'Could you apologise for me?' he asked eventually.

'Could you ditch Snape and Mulciber for me?'

I didn't look at his face then. I should have. After a moment he stood up and put his hand on my head. 'I'll send your stuff over.'

He walked back towards the house.

'I'll see you at school.'

'Yeah,' he replied, without looking back. I watched him climb back up to his window before I climbed onto my broom and flew to James's house.

James's mum answered my knock at the door. I plastered a smile onto my face. 'Hello, Mrs P. Remember how you always said you thought of me as a second son?'

..........................................

In the weeks following the attack on me, things escalated. A group of Aurors were called to an alleged brawl, and found themselves surrounded by Death Eaters. But they hadn't counted on Moody. He killed two and took down eight more. It was his finest hour, even if it cost him part of his nose.

We were dragged into Headquarters every day, and spent hours flying sweeps of the country, looking for signs of giants. Arthur Weasley came back to the Order full-time, his wife told him that the twins were old enough for her to manage by herself now. Dorcas devised a spell that would show the presence of werewolves, and Remus developed a sudden headache that meant he had to go home straight away.

I left with him, managing not to laugh. We were halfway home before I couldn't hold off telling him that I thought he'd look spiffing green.

'Yes, very funny. You can explain to everyone who doesn't know that I am the good kind of werewolf and ask them to try not to hex me next full moon.'

I rolled my eyes at him. 'Of course they all know, we call you Moony for Merlin's sake.'

'Really, Padfoot? And exactly how many of them know your little secret.'

I ignored his logic. 'Well, Dumbledore knows, and he's in charge.'

'And he has very good reasons for keeping it a secret. Idiot. Come on, if we're not hunting Death Eaters, I want ice-cream.'

We rode down to Diagon Alley, and I went ahead to Fortescue's to order sundaes for us while Remus ducked into Flourish and Blotts. When the cream had started to run down the side of his glass, I went looking for him.

And I had learned. I went looking quietly, and with my wand drawn.

They were standing outside the bookshop, just the two of them.

Snape was holding Remus's sleeve. His voice was low and urgent. 'Not at all? Not even a message?'

Remus shook his head. 'Nothing.'

I was close enough now. They both jumped when I spoke. 'Step away from him. Don't draw your wand.'

Snape's face was a sneer as he turned. Remus put his hands up to stop me. 'It's all right, he's asking about Regulus.'

I snorted. 'What the fuck do you care? You've killed him, isn't that enough?'

Snape looked as though he'd been slapped. 'Do you know? Are you certain?' he asked in a whisper.

I couldn't speak. Remus could. 'Mr Black came by the other week. He seems convinced Regulus is dead. We saw him after the attack on Sirius, he said he had to finish a few things, and then he'd come to us.'

Snape looked sick then. 'If they found out …'

I could speak then. 'Death before desertion. We know how your lot operate. He trusted you. You got him killed.'

'I … no, it wasn't like that. He was my friend.'

'How many more of your friends will you kill before this is done?'

And for a single moment, looking at the horror that filled his eyes, I felt sorry for him, because I knew exactly how he felt. But he was gone before I could more than register the thought.

'That was cruel,' Remus told me, taking my hand. I hadn't realised that it had been shaking till it was held in his stillness.

'I don't care.'

'I think you do. He's not so different to us.'

I frowned at him. 'How can you say that? Why are you even talking to him?'

Remus's mouth twitched in frustration, with words that wouldn't pass his lips. Finally, he sighed and began to walk, not letting go of my hand. He led me away from Fortescue's. 'We're going home,' he told me.

'I don't want to,' I fumed, but when we reached the bike I climbed on and turned the engine over.

I took the long way home, past the crowd milling outside the Marquee Club. The roads around Oxford Circus were cordoned off, another bomb called in. By the time we were on Fulham Road, my face was cold and my hair was whipped into a tangle of elf-knots.

Remus grabbed my hand again as soon as I had parked the bike and pulled me up the stairs. He slammed our front door behind us, then slammed me against it and crushed his lips against mine.

I shook my head. 'No. Not now.' Now I just wanted to shake with anger and try not to cry.

'Shut up.' He held me there with one hand and used the other to undo my jacket and shirt.

I slapped his hand away. 'Not now!'

Suddenly both my hands were in his and he was dragging me down the hall. 'Yes now, and just shut up.'

'Why?'

'Because, Sirius, I am asking you to, just once.'

And I did. People forget, you see, that he was stronger than me. Not that he needed strength. Just to ask.

And when he had me on my back, full of him, with his grip bruising my thigh and a rhythm as necessary as breathing between us, he paused for a moment and turned my jaw so I had to look at him and he said, 'This.'

And later, when he had fallen to my chest, and the reek of spill and sweat had his taste fairly in the air, I had a moment when I could think again, and I asked, 'This what?'

And it was a long moment before he looked up at me, and gently, softly, kissed my mouth, with all the violence of the past hour spent, and he told me.

'This is how I can say that. Because you're alive, Sirius. We're alive. And as long as we're alive, it can still all turn out all right, no matter what goes wrong.'

And I believed him.

................................