IV. Driven
-—Sirius realizes that there is more to school than goofing around.
October, 1973

Sirius is bored.

This isn't an uncommon occurrence, especially when there's a Potions essay due the next day, but there's not even anyone around to entertain him. James is away at Quidditch practice for the evening—even as a third year, he seems to have mad visions of playing for the Harpies—and Peter and Remus are trying to figure out Potions.

He knows Remus isn't the best at the subject, and Peter spends class zoning out with James and Sirius...he has half a mind to help them out, because he's pretty sure he understands forgetfulness potions.

Remus would disapprove, because Sirius will definitely not be writing his own essay...but really, Slughorn is wrapped around his and James' little fingers. Remus and Peter, not so much...so he figures the least he can do is help them out when they'll be graded a lot harsher.

He turns to ask what they're stuck on, and sees Remus bent over his meticulous notes, trying to figure something out and at the same time explaining it to Peter. Sirius has always marveled at the way he takes school so seriously. It's almost ridiculous, the pages of notes he takes and the perfectly-spaced essays with the tiny handwriting and the way he gets everything, everything done on time, even if there's a full moon in the way—

Remus heaves a heavy sigh, flipping back several pages. "I'm just not sure..."

"Forgetfulness potions, right?" Sirius injects himself into the conversation, leaning across the table. Peter looks up and nods with wide eyes, but Remus doesn't seem to hear him; he's poring over Monday's notes with a deep crease in his brow. His eyes are a brighter gold than normal, and his skin is pale and sickly; Sirius remembers with a start that the full moon is only two days away.

"Oi, Remus, go to bed. You look like hell," he advises, pulling the essay toward him and glancing over what his friend has so far. "The essay'll be there in the morning..."

"And I'll feel even worse tomorrow." Remus looks utterly exhausted as he skims his notes. "I just need to get this done...then I'm caught up on everything for this week, and I'll be all right for Saturday night..."

"Just skive it off! It's just one essay—me and James can talk to Slughorn—"

Remus looks up, his eyes wide and scandalized. "I can't just—not do an assignment! You guys can get away with it, you're—but I can't—"

He shakes his head sharply, suddenly, returning to his notes with his lips pursed. But Sirius won't let this go. Sure, Remus isn't a part of the unofficial "Slug Club," and he isn't quite as wild and outgoing as the rest of them, but surely missing one essay when he's so miserable—"Why are you so uptight about school, anyway? I mean, it's not that big of a deal..."

It doesn't come out quite as eloquently as he had envisioned, but Remus doesn't seem to mind his bluntness. He's quiet for a moment, though his eyes have stopped moving over his notes. Sirius is about to press him more, ask what's wrong, because even if he doesn't take hints well, he knows something is bothering his friend...

But Remus replies at last, his voice low and quiet. "I almost didn't get to come to Hogwarts, you know. Headmaster Dippet wasn't going to let me...but then Dumbledore took over, and he said he'd figure something out..."

This takes Sirius by surprise; Peter's wide eyes show he knew as little about this as he did. They've known for a year, now, that Remus was bitten by that werewolf when he was six years old...but it's never crossed his mind, the true repercussions of it.

"...But if anyone finds out, or any of the professors see me as a threat, they can get me thrown out. I wouldn't stand a chance..."

"Slughorn wouldn't do that!" Sirius knows this, knows that even if the man is head of Slytherin, he's not the vindictive type...

But then he remembers the fleeting glances he's seen Slughorn send his way when he's paired with Remus, remembers the way his hands shake when Remus turns in their assignment...

Slughorn's scared.

Of Remus.

He, Sirius, has never thought to be scared of his friend, even in those first moments after they realized what he was. He's always been his friend, the sickly boy with the quiet voice and the brilliant mind...

But now, he realizes that this—everything—could be taken away from him so easily. It's inconceivable...it doesn't make sense...

"Well, I'll hex the balls off anyone who tries to do that, so there won't be a problem, right?" He doesn't do mushy, and neither does Remus, but with something like this...Sirius feels like Remus needs to hear that they care. He's always so easygoing about everything...except, of course, his condition. He needs to know that they'll stick with him no matter what, no matter who stands in their way...

Sirius means every word he said, and he's not going to stop there. "Right, you go lay down by the fire—I'll finish this for you. Just copy it out in your own writing so Sluggy doesn't get suspicious, right?"

Both Remus and Peter look genuinely surprised by his offer, and he knows he's never really done such a thing before...but Remus deserves it.

And Sirius knows, as Remus makes his way toward an empty couch with a smile and grateful eyes, that he made the right decision.