Sirius hadn't returned by lunch. He hadn't returned by dinner. The storm still raged on outside, and from my room I watched the waves tearing at the shore, but by late evening, when the others were starting to yawn, there was still no sign of him.

When James, rubbing his eyes viciously with the heels of his hands, his glasses dangling precariously from one ear, had descended the stairs to greet me good morning I had tossed him the Daily Prophet, still open to the article that had left Sirius in such a state, and told him I wasn't feeling well, wanted to be left alone for a bit. Thus, I had spent the day in my room, with only the occasional glance down at the book in my lap, the majority of my focus on the ground outside, searching for any sign of a man or a black dog.

My stomach was tied in knots too uncomfortable to even think of eating, and when Peter had brought me a chocolate frog and stern instructions to feel better, I had left the gift untouched on the bed where he had dropped it.

When my watch read ten, I threw my book across the room, where it missed my trunk and landed on the floor with a great thud.

"Mooney?"

James peeked in the door, uncharacteristically unobtrusive.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure."

He sat down on the bed and scratched the back of his head, as if unsure of where to begin.

"Yes?"

"Sirius is back."

My head reeled. Back? My eyes had been glued to the front door for any sign of his return for hours; how could I have missed him?

"He just apparated into the kitchen. He's..." James trailed off, his eyes drifting down to the floor, away from mine.

"He's what, James?"

James bit his lip. I was completely unaccustomed to this sort of hesitant behaviour from him – he had never been one to hold back anything, always said exactly what was on his mind.

"Please," I urged, my heart racing with concern.

"He's not in great shape. Mum's tending to him now, but-"

"But what?" I wanted to lean forward, take his shoulders, and shake the news out of him, whatever it was.

"Well, he's not exactly conscious."

He hadn't finished the sentence before I was on my feet, rushing down the stairs as fast as my tired legs would take me. My mind was empty, completely still, numb with nothing but James' words ringing in my ears, trying to comprehend them and put them together into a coherent thought. Sirius... Mum's tending to him... not exactly conscious...

My knees must have given out from under me because one moment I was aware of seeing Mrs. Potter stooping over a figure on the floor, and the next I was on the same level as Sirius, my face inches from his bloody face, my hands shaking, grabbing at his shirt – my shirt, I reminded myself remotely, though so covered in blood that it wouldn't have been recognizable as my own had it not been so threadbare that it couldn't possibly have been anyone else's.

His face was bruised, his lip bleeding, and his chest was torn apart as if he'd been attacked by some sort of animal. I gulped. As if he'd been attacked by me.

He opened his eyes a bit and looked up, glassy-eyed and far away. I bit back the words that rose instantly to my lips.

"Remus, dear." Mrs. Potter's voice was faint, cautionary. "I need you to let me through."

A strong hand grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back away from Sirius, and James' face obscured my vision of, though I could still here Mrs. Potter uttering quiet, songlike spells behind him.

James put his hand softly on the side of my face. "Mooney, buddy, come on, he's going to be fine." His brown eyes blurred in my vision, and he turned behind him. I heard him mumble, "Peter, get some chocolate," before turning back to me and slapping me, hard across my face, twice.

Mrs. Potter got up, and I heard a low, throaty cough as Sirius sat up, leaning back on his elbows, and looked down at his chest. He lifted the torn jumper and examined his skin with admiration. "Excellent work, Mrs. Potter," he declared weakly.

"You're lucky the cuts weren't so deep," she told him. "Didn't leave a single scar. Here, drink this."

She handed him a cup and helped him off the floor and into a chair at the table. He sat and looked around the room until his eyes fell on me.

"Jesus, Mooney. I'm okay. No need to be so gay about it."

It wasn't until he addressed me that I was suddenly horribly aware of what I must have looked like. Huddled on the floor, clutching the hem of my shirt to stop my arms from trembling, my face red and wet.

"What the bloody hell happened?" I rose from the ground, still shaking, and walked towards him. "You leave me at five this morning to disappear for the entire day, show up here covered in your own blood, and tell me I'm being gay about this?"

"For the record, a lot of the blood isn't mine."

Peter scampered up to my side. "Remus? H-here. I got you a chocolate frog."

I took the frog and ripped the package open, wanting to apologize to Peter for the near violence with which I had snatched it from him, and stormed into the next room. I had thought the image of Sirius' face weak and covered in blood would be the one that stuck with me, but all I could see was a condescending smirk.

For once, not even chocolate could ease my troubled thoughts.

After a few moments, Peter followed me into the room.

"Remus, are you okay? James is yelling at Sirius, telling him not to be such an arse, right now, I promise." He sat beside me and nudged my shoulder hesitantly with his. "I was worried about Sirius, too. Really, I was. I thought he was dead when he first appeared. Practically scared me out of my wits. I was just sitting there eating a bowl of soup and suddenly there was a man covered in blood staring at me from across the table. Nearly wet myself, I did."

I couldn't help but laugh a little, and his face broke into a grin as well.

"Better?" he asked.

"Better," I told him. It wasn't entirely a lie, either.

After a minute, Sirius reluctantly stepped through the doorway, James pushing him from behind.

"'M sorry, Mooney," he mumbled.

Before I could respond, Mrs. Potter stepped in and said, "Remus? There's an owl for you in the kitchen, dear. Sassy little creature."

I was grateful not to have to conjure a reply to Sirius' empty words, and followed her back into the kitchen to find Zephyr on the table, looking at me ungratefully and bearing two letters in his beak.

Lily must be terribly bored to write back this fast, I thought. I took them and began to open one, but someone coughed behind me.

Sirius, it seemed, had followed me into the kitchen. I shoved the unopened letter into my back pocket.

"Yes?"

"Can we talk?" His voice was quieter now, uncertain and almost wary. "Somewhere else. Outside. Upstairs. Maybe..."

I held up the open letter in my hand. "Mind if I read my post first?"

"I'm not joking, Remus, please."

I stood and walked up the stairs to my room, and he followed. Once there, I dropped the open letter onto my desk and sat down on the bed. He sat next to me and stared at the wall.

"So where did you go?"

"The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, of course."

"After that grandiose declamation in the kitchen this morning. You went home? I don't understand what possibly could have possessed you to do that."

"Regulus tried to stop me leaving, hence the..." He gestured to his face and chest, both still tinged red with the dried blood that hadn't managed to wash off yet. "You know."

He shifted his weight on the bed a little.

"It isn't fun, dueling your own little brother. He may be a prick, he may be a little snot, and I may hate him with every inch of my being, but he is my brother."

Somehow, the contempt in my heart, the anger, had faded and been replaced with a nearly uncontrollable urge to lean over and hug him. Before I had the chance, however, he had gotten up off the bed and left the room, only pausing to look over his shoulder and tell me, "I am sorry, Remus," as he went.

The others were in bed before long, and I spent the night reading a book so dense that I couldn't afford to have a stray thought in my mind as I delved through the pages. The night seemed to ease past in a quick and relatively painless blur, and before I knew it James was barging into my room, with Peter and Sirius following quickly behind him.

"That was Evans' bird in the kitchen last night," he declared, staring at me.

"Zephyr. Yes. It was. Why, did he ruin the table or something?"

"I told you to let me read any letter Evans sends you. I know she's writing about me, you've got to stop holding out on me!"

"I'm not sure you want to-"

He was already at my desk, looking around for any sign of her handwriting. I got up and put my book down. Triumphantly, he held up a folded piece of parchment and opened it, a grand smile on his face.

I realized then that I still had yet to read the letter, or the other one stored safely in the pocket of my trousers, which I wondered if I could retrieve without his noticing.

As he read, his face was changing dramatically, the smile seemed literally to melt off his mouth into a look of mild disgust, a grimace. "Hell, Mooney..."

"What?"

"You bloody well know what, you wanker." I bloody well did not know. Had she referenced one of my maudlin insults?

"What does the letter say?" Peter asked him.

He looked up and began to read aloud. "Every day without your presence makes my heart weep..." His voice was tight and he read the letter affectedly, without intonation. "Our secret romance has been burdening me ever since we kissed so passionately goodbye – you kissed her?" He groaned and fell back against the wall in agony.

"Is that all?" Sirius laughed, glancing at me. He mouthed, some sort of prank?

I shrugged, and then stood to retrieve the other letter from my pocket. I scanned the parchment quickly, seeing the post script, Make sure Potter finds the letter. Of course.

"She signed it 'your Lily,'" James croaked. He sunk to the ground and tossed the letter to the ground.

Sirius couldn't seem to help it. He erupted with a burst of laughter, convulsing to the point where he had to sit down and brace himself against the wall to breathe.

"What?" asked James pitifully from the floor.

"She's having a go at you, mate." Sirius struggled to get the words out between his fits of laughter. James looked at me for confirmation. Again, I merely shrugged. Sirius continued, "Remus would no more kiss Lily Evans than he'd kiss you, you thick git."

It occurred to me as Sirius proceeded to tease James that perhaps I should read the rest of Lily's real letter and respond to it, but by the time that happened, they had already pulled my from my room, downstairs to watch as they plotted their plans for the day.