Chapter Three
Lank, oily black hair spilled down over a sallow face, black eyes glittering maliciously. Severus Snape, though only fifteen and still small, was beginning to look old. The bitter expression that seemed to constantly decorate his face did nothing to aid him; rather it seemed to age him ten years.
"Prefect?" Severus mouthed the word as he stared at the polished badge, almost disbelieving. Then a sour expression over took his shock. "I should have known," he snorted, almost to himself. "It figures Dumbledore would make him a prefect!"
"Need something?" Remus demanded curtly.
"No. I'm a prefect," snarled Severus, gesturing to the badge gleaming on his own chest. "I can get anything I want."
"So am I," replied the taller boy mildly. "What do you want?"
Severus glanced around the compartment as if searching for someone, but didn't reply.
"Lily's not here," Remus interjected.
Opening his mouth to reply, Severus spotted Sirius' marred face. "What happened to your face, Black?"
"Get out!" Sirius snarled, his lips twisted into a horrible sneer. He was on his feet in an instant, towering over Severus, panting heavily in rage and hatred.
Surprised and intimidated, Severus took a step back before regaining his composure and reaching for his wand. Sirius, quick as a whip, reaching around and snatched his wand from his back pocket, and was halfway through an incantation when Remus sent a jinx his way, knocking the wand from his hand.
"Out," Remus ordered, shouldering Severus out of the compartment.
"Do you want expelled?" Remus, looking tired with dark circles under his eyes, turned on Sirius with an almost hurt look on his face.
"Fuck him," Sirius snarled.
"What the hell was that?" Almost disbelieving, Remus demanded an answer from his friend.
"Nevermind. Give me my wand." Sirius held out his hand for the wand, but Remus withheld it.
"What has gotten into you?"
"Nothing." With a scowl Sirius crossed his arms.
James could only watch. Had it been anyone other than Remus Sirius would have tackled them, seizing his wand by force, but since it was Remus, Sirius would not lay a finger on him.
"Severus has as many issues as you do, can't you just stop picking on him?"
"You don't care!" he yelped in reply. "You pick on him almost as much as I do!"
"Yeah, I know." Remus looked down at his feet. "But really? If you get expelled, then what?"
"Then I go home," Sirius snapped.
"What about me?"
Silence fell. No one moved a muscle as Sirius debated. Remus stared at Sirius, his eyes silently pleading for a reply.
"Then nothing," Sirius growled at last. "I won't leave you."
Chapter Four
As if that was a promise. It seemed highly unlike Sirius to do anything of the kind. Trouble was in his blood—he couldn't resist it. But he did promise, and the odd way he said it was enough to make James wonder what he would go through to keep it.
The feast was brightly lit, full of the bustle of the crowd of students, their voices overly loud and happy at the start of the year. Sirius's absence beside him left James feeling utterly alone, even with Peter's excess warmth on his left. The space on his right felt empty. Remus joined them, but only in the flesh. His mind was obviously absent. He watched the sorting, eyes distant, cheered the first years on and welcomed them. He ate mechanically, shoveling food into his mouth and chewing hastily before forcing it down with a swallow from his goblet.
"Remus, you all right?" James inquired, leaning forward and attempting to engage his friend in conversation.
But Remus only stared blankly at the empty spot on the bench beside James. He started when a first year approached him to ask the way to the lavatory, stood hastily to show the child the way, and didn't return for almost an hour. When he did his face was haggard.
"Where'd you go, Remus?" Peter squeaked.
Remus looked down at Peter distractedly. "Sirius," he replied dazedly.
"Where is he?" James asked. Last he had looked Sirius had been sitting on the common room couch. He had waved them on ahead, saying that he would be down to the feast in a few minutes, but he had never arrived.
"Upstairs," Remus replied.
"Doing what?"
"Just lying on the bed," whispered Remus. "He hasn't moved for hours."
