A/N: This is not new. I'm just breaking up the monster of a one-shot I had previously and making it now three chapters. I apologize for any inconvenience.

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Sirius cut off the alarm almost as soon as it began ringing, rolling soundlessly out of bed. He was still very sore and bruised, but the pain of the Cruciatus had worn off, so he was in a much better position than he had been. Yet, his body protested.

He shushed it for now. He was escaping.

The room was cold in the icy pre-dawn, and Sirius shivered as he dressed. He straightened his belongings, making sure that all of his things were packed, and opened the window. A blast of frigid air rushed through the gap, and Sirius was glad for his expensive jumper. Bracing himself, he slid out into the dark morning.

Dropping from the tree, he landed with barely a whisper on the grass behind 12 Grimmauld Place. He asserted his grip on his backpack and, crossing the empty street, headed for the park which was located a few minute's walk from Grimmauld Place. He could hear his heartbeat speeding up against his will; he was so, so close. He was just about free.

Suddenly, he turned and looked back at The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. He almost expected someone to stop him from escaping, but no one came running out from the house. They probably won't even notice that I've left, he thought dismally. But then, a light turned on in the one of the uppermost windows. Sirius froze, backing into the shadows of the sidewalk.

A small face appeared in the small square of light. Sirius tensed, preparing to run for it, but it was all right. It was only Regulus, waving. Hesitantly, Sirius waved back. His brother then pulled back from the window and pulled the green shades. Sirius felt a little bad, leaving Regulus like this. But Regulus would have to understand. Sirius needed out.

This thought jolted him from his reverie and he set off to the park. An anticipatory smile flickered across his face as he neared the rendezvous point. James ran toward him, stopping just short of reaching him. He was smiling lightly, welcomingly. "Hello, Sirius," he said, almost shyly.

"Hey," Sirius replied, slinging an arm over James' shoulders. James seemed slightly surprised, but that had been the point; Sirius had been trying to show James that he wasn't completely fragile. "How's it going?"

James smiled fully this time. Shrugging off Sirius' arm, he thumped him on the back, unwittingly sending lightning bolts of pain through his spine. "Great until you showed up." To his horror, Sirius exhaled very slowly and bent over, palms on his knees. "Sirius, did I hurt you?"

Sirius shook his head, coughing. The hand that he had brought up to cough into came away smeared crimson. Sirius tried to hide it, but he was very suspicious that James and Mr. Potter saw. "I'm fine, James," he said briskly. "Just - just tired. And my back is a little sore, so please don't try to bash it in again."

James looked incredibly guilty. He shuffled his feet, looking across to Sirius in a concerned way. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"I said it's fine," Sirius said, a little more roughly than he'd originally intended, shifting his light backpack on his shoulder.

There was a short silence. Mr. Potter cleared his throat. "We should probably go," he said, holding out his hands for the two boys to take. They did so, and Mr. Potter apparated them to the Potter's house.

It was a beautiful house. At first glance, the house looked much like 12 Grimmauld Place, minus the snake knocker, black paint, and general air of gloominess. But the Potter Residence was very, very different from The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and the difference went deeper than yellow paint. The whole house just seemed… More open, somehow. Grimmauld Place was very closed and secretive; the residents of the house rarely saw the outside of it. But 6 Myrtle Boulevard was bright and sunny, like a lighthouse beacon to call its inhabitants home at the end of a long free day.

It looked more like home to Sirius than any other place, except maybe Hogwarts. James knew this, and lightly rested his hand on his shoulder. "Welcome to your home away from home, Sirius."

Sirius nodded, and entered the house. Mrs. Potter rose from her position on the sofa, putting down Witch Weekly. She instantly switched into motherly concern mode at the sight of Sirius, or more specifically, of Sirius' face. "Sirius, what happened?"

"I fell down the stairs," Sirius said. James shot him a sideways glance, knowing that he was only parroting Remus' excuses for his injuries after the full moon. "We have six flights, you see." Sirius knew that his pretext was unconvincing, but he could think of nothing else.

"I've never seen a staircase that fights back before," Mrs. Potter commented dryly, her tone making it quite clear what she thought of his feeble excuse. "You don't have to explain. Just let me see, alright?" She smiled gently, as one might to a frightened animal, assuring him that she wouldn't hurt him.

Sirius tried to hide his surprise. He was not her son; she had no connection to him whatsoever; she had no reason to care. But still she did. It had been so long since anyone other than the Marauders had looked at him the way she was now. He swallowed, denying the emotions that rose. He shrugged casually, as if the request was of no importance. "If it pleases you."

Mrs. Potter brightened immediately. Pulling out her wand from her robes, she waved it across his face and torso several times, murmuring incantations. Sirius felt the skin knit back together and swelling fade in numerous places. She whispered something else, tracing a small circle over each of his shoulders, and his muscles loosened and became much less sore. Glancing down at his hands after running her wand up and down his arms, she positioned her wand over the blood-encrusted arcs carved in a neat line across his palm. She was about to heal them, but Mr. Potter shook his head slightly, possibly not wanting the boys to notice. "Leave those," he said quietly.

Mrs. Potter gave him an odd look, but moved on. When she had finished, she surveyed Sirius from arm's length with a satisfied smile. "Good as new," she said kindly.

Sirius could feel his face burning with embarrassment. "Thanks," he said weakly, running his fingers over his scarred palms self-consciously.

"Your room's up here, Sirius," James said quickly, trying to change the subject. Sirius accepted readily, also ready to move on to a safer topic. Shifting his bag on his shoulders again, he followed James up the stairs while the Potters talked quietly in the kitchen.

The room was bright, painted in vivid shades of red and gold. The room seemed to be made of light; Sirius smiled slightly, mentally contrasting it to his room in Grimmauld Place. It was like comparing fire and ashes, life and death.

Sirius plunked his small bag on the deep gold carpet, grinning at James. James gave him a mischievous smirk back. "So," he said, flopping onto the bed, "Is it prank-brainstorming time?"

Sirius adopted James' smirk. "I think so, Jamesie dearest." He ducked the pillow that flew at his head. "Violence, James, violence..." Sirius shook his head in mock hopelessness. "There's nothing that can be done for the poor boy, I'm afraid. Such a shame-" He ducked again as two pillows flew at him this time. How many pillows were on his bed?

Obviously no more, as James sat up and sulked. Grinning, Sirius balanced a pillow in his hand. "Since you've been so kind as to give me all of your pillows, Mr. Potter, I think I should return some of them to you."

The resulting pillow fight was one of the wildest in their history, without Remus to interfere. Some true prank-storming discussions followed, along with a few games of exploding snap.

James had just had his third hand blow up in a row, and Sirius was enjoying having the chance to laugh at him yet again. Rubbing his singed eyebrows and scowling, James asked unexpectedly, "Why did you lie to my parents?"

Sirius, smile still on his face, looked up from the cards in surprise. "What?"

"They aren't idiots; they know that you didn't fall down the stairs-"

"And what would you suggest I tell them, then?" Sirius tried hard to keep the note of rising anger out of his voice as he looked away from James. He did not want to get angry with James.

James' face was inscrutable. The expression was strange, on James, who was always open and honest about everything. "The truth would work, you know."

Sirius dropped the Exploding Snap deck and leaned forward. Pressing his palms into his eyes, feeling the crescents on his eyelids, he muttered, "Could we not have this conversation?"

"What are you hiding from me? You're my best mate. Can't you trust me?"

Sirius didn't look up. "You know that I'd trust you with my life, James." His shame and pain bubbled close to the surface, threatening to overflow.

"Then trust me with this, Sirius." James' voice was low and soft. "My dad's an Auror, he might be able to help."

Sirius leaned back onto the bed, staring numbly at the ceiling. He began without further ado, voice flat and detached. "There was another party. I was confined to my room, as per usual." Sirius laughed without emotion. "They think it's a punishment.

"Some Slytherins got bored, and decided to find the resident blood traitor. Most of them were overage, so the restriction for overage wizardry didn't apply to them. But it didn't matter, as they didn't use their wands much-" His voice faltered, and he struggled to start again. It was terrible to have to remember it all again, but he thought of James' betrayed face and kept going. He knew that James was testing him and he was determined to pass.

"They used the Cruciatus until I gave in - three times, I think. It's kind of hard to remember-" Keep going, Sirius, just keep going. He rolled onto his stomach, pressing his hands into his temples, trying to squeeze the pain out of his head. "Then they took the more direct approach." That was all he could say on the subject; it was all that his aching throat would allow him. Folding his arms, he buried his head in them, listening closely to his steady heartbeat. "They didn't even soundproof the room." His last sentence was choked and muffled by his arms. "Everyone could hear me." His voice cracked, and he didn't even try to stop the tears that streamed readily from his burning eyes.

At some point in the telling, James had moved to sit next to him. He moved his hand in soft, comforting circles on Sirius' back, trying to soothe his pained sobs. "It's all right," he whispered, stroking Sirius' hair, "You're here now. You're safe." Sirius did not reply. He did not feel as shamed as he thought he would, crying in front of James, because he trusted him to understand. To not lower his opinion of him when he saw Sirius' weakness.

Sirius finally regained control of himself, but he didn't move. James patted his back. "Come on, mate, we have to go to lunch soon. Let's get you cleaned up, shall we?"

Sirius nodded, pulling himself off of the bed with difficulty. All of the energy seemed to have run completely out of him, and he let James lead him without objection. He didn't protest when James took a washcloth and rubbed it over his face, trying to erase the signs of tears from his eyes.

"Your eyes are still a little red, but I think that I got the worst of it," James said finally, dropping the wet washcloth in the sink. Sirius didn't respond. His empty gaze rested on the tiles, lost in memories of his own personal demons.

Then, suddenly, James was embracing him. Caught by surprise, Sirius originally stiffened, but when he realized that it was James he relaxed. "I shouldn't have made you do that, Sirius," James said, holding his friend tightly to him. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Sirius said, resting his head on James' shoulder. "I needed to tell someone. I needed to let it go."

"I'm sorry, Sirius," James said, voice cracking slightly. "I can't even imagine… I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault." Neither knew how long they stood there, drawing comfort from the other's presence; it could have been an instant or an hour. But then Mrs. Potter called up the stairs for them to come down to dinner.

Sirius was the first to pull away, lifting his head from his brother's shoulder. "Let's go," he said quietly. He led the way down the staircase.