A/N: I'm sorry that it's taken so long to get this chapter up. Between SATs and finals and my brother's incredibly involved birthday, I have a whole host of excuses to choose from. Apologies aside, here it finally is.

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Voices. Sounding somewhere in the void that was above him, swirling into an everlasting black hole that Remus wanted to suck himself into.

"Albus-"

"But his parents-"

"The Ministry-"

Remus let go of the thin threads of noise, letting the tuneless buzz take them. They were of no importance. He'd be executed soon enough anyway - why bother listening to the goings on outside him? It had been nightmare enough, waking up to the blazing taste of red - walking to the castle - and finally being knocked out by one of Madam Pomfrey's foul tasting concoctions. He didn't mind the oblivion, really. It was quiet, calm, anonymous. The black hole didn't know he was a murder and didn't care.

"Moony-"

"I must insist-"

"You're not going to just-"

Tiny worms of shouting slithered in and out of his head. But they fell to the side abruptly. It was odd - Remus was aware enough to notice that - but by the time he'd noticed that, the hands gently shaking him awake were impossible to ignore. Not for lack of trying, certainly. Remus was not ready to wake up just yet. He was perfectly happy in the dark nothingness, thankyouverymuch, and he was planning to stay there for as long as he wanted.

But it was then that red-tipped claws flashed before his metaphorical eyes, and he released the last fistfuls of nonexistence. He was in no place to be making demands. Tugging his eyelids open, he looked at the people who, until last night, had been his friends.

A rainbow of faces stared worriedly down at him. James's face was red; Sirius's white; Peter's almost blue in the morning light. "You alright?" James asked quietly, almost ashamedly, as if he knew that he could hardly ask a dumber question.

Laughter foamed up inside his ribcage, like vinegar and baking soda mixing. Empty bubbles. But he kept it in. "What do you think?" he hissed, before instantly knowing that he shouldn't have. He kept forgetting. His eyes prickled angrily as he looked away, murmuring, "Sorry. I didn't-"

"It's fine," James said quietly, brushing away Remus's infraction like a stray bit of dust. "It was a stupid thing to say. I'm sorry." Remus could feel his gaze stroking softly over his face, like his mother's kind hands smoothing bitten and shredded flesh. See? It's all better now. Everything's fixed.

But he wasn't seven anymore. Nothing could be fixed, because the dead were dead and not even the greatest wizard could raise them. No matter how much they might want to - how much they might need to.

"It's not your fault, Remus." Sirius's voice was surprisingly unsteady, but still fierce. Remus didn't think he'd ever heard Sirius sound like this - all cracks and shattered pieces and the salty sweet scent of tears. "It's not something you can control. You know that, Remus, so don't you dare blame yourself."

Blinking away the frustration gathering in the corners of his eyes, Remus risked a look upward. His words were calm, emotionless - the exact opposite of what he felt as he said them. "Who else killed last night?"

Sirius's face twisted oddly, crumbling in sections, and before Remus could wonder what was happening he was gone, fleeing the Hospital Wing as if pursued by ghosts. His fevered footsteps chased down the corridor, embedding themselves in an endless, orderless pattern in Remus's mind that lasted long after the sounds had died out.

Peter coughed, shifting. The silence was too choking, not distracting enough to fend off the monsters. Remus could see them, creeping in the corner of his vision, waiting for him to think so they could attack.

So he took the only venue of action he could, and let the darkness close over his head once more.

x x x

Footsteps echoed down the empty corridor. Mrs. Norris's ears pricked up at the sound - students were supposed to be in class now. She stepped forward delicately, peeping around a corner, ready to fetch Argus at any second to apprehend the brat.

However, this time the boy was with teachers. Mrs. Norris hissed angrily. She'd have liked to catch the little monster for almost six years now, but he regularly evaded her. He looked very upset, however; if she was lucky, he was in trouble.

Entranced by these joyous thoughts, she almost didn't notice Argus picking her up. She purred gleefully, unblinking eyes grinning at the morose parade. A rough hand stroked her fur, and Argus's voice whispered hoarsely in her ear, "Yes, my sweet. The little brat's finally getting what he deserves."

x x x

"Sirius - how could you?"

Sirius said nothing, turning his darkened eyes away, hiding his expression behind his too-long hair. James could see nothing on the bit of face he could see - no anger, no sympathy, no even guilt. How can he not care? He's a murderer - where is his guilt? James was not aware of his fists clenching, jaw setting, back straightening with the forming power of his anger.

A moment later, Sirius stumbled back, not even lifting a hand to the sudden redness on his cheekbone that James knew would later turn to bruise. But punching Sirius had not released the anger within James; if anything, it made it worse, scraping away at his insides with an insatiable appetite. Sirius, and his stupid Black pride, who couldn't admit that he had messed up-

"Get out of here." Sirius did not move. Studying the floor tiles as if they held the secrets of the universe, it was as if he had not heard a word James said. "Get out!" He shoved Sirius back, trying to get him to move, trying to get him to react. But the same patch of floor remained reflected in his endless silver eyes, unblinking. James hissed, as if his anger could seethe out with his breath, and dove.

Sirius convulsed as the pair thudded to the floor and a fist crushed into his stomach, knocking the air from his lungs with a pleasing whoosh. James pounded his guilt and fury and hatred on the yielding body, snarling flame from his lips, whumpwhumpmurdererwhump. He was on fire now, every inch of him consumed in the inferno as he beat his best friend of six years into the floorboards.

Rough hands pulled him off of Sirius, shaking him, shouting at him to stop it. But he kept swinging his arms uselessly, screaming himself hoarse. And with every insult and blow and poison-filled glare James threw at him, Sirius's expression didn't change.

Later than evening, as Lily's sobs shattered over Dumbledore's amplified voice, James wondered how he had ever thought that black could have different shades.

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