Hi This chapter is slightly longer than the others, partly to make up for the long wait, and partly because I'm trying to gradually increase the length of my chapters. This chapter isn't very good, mainly because I have never been drunk, and therefore wasn't exactly sure how to write a drunk character. But yeah, I tried my best. Also, I don't mean to be annoying or pushy, but reviews really give me the motivation I need to get writing, so they would be much appreciated. Criticism would also be good

Chapter 6

The Hog's Head was, for lack of a better word, shady. The pub was dark and dingy. Many of the tables were in the process of breaking or already broken, and they, along with the chairs, were covered in a thick layer of dust. The floors had obviously not been swept for a very long time. The glasses were obviously dirty; they were cloudy. The customers, for the most part, had their faces hidden within their cloaks. The bartender would serve anything to anyone. Typically, Sirius, along with the other Hogwarts students, avoided the place.

But when Sirius, under the protection of James' invisibility cloak, approached the one-eyed witch statue, pulled out his wand, said dissendium, and headed along the secret tunnel to Hogsmeade, the Hog's Head was the destination he had in mind. Because he wanted to get drunk. Contrary to popular belief, Sirius wasn't a huge drinker. Sure, he had the occasional butterbeer, but there were only two instances in which he had been actually drunk. The first time had been during a party after Gryffindor had won the house cup. The second had been a time like this. A time in which he wanted to forget. A time in which he wanted life to stop hurting so much. He didn't want to make a habit of it, but he didn't feel there was anything else he could do.

He took of the cloak and stashed it inside his robes, and then entered the pub, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible. He was, after all, ditching school. He walked up to the counter and ordered a firewhisky. The bartender looked at him strangely for a moment, but eventually obliged. Galleons were galleons, he supposed.

Sirius then immediately headed to a table in the back. The pub wasn't very crowded, partly because it was the middle of the afternoon, and because it was snowing outside, but it never really was anyways. He wished there was a bigger crowd though, so he could blend in better.

Sitting there in that pub, when he should have been at school, drinking a drink he shouldn't have been doing, Sirius realized finally why Remus felt the need to do what he did. How physically hurting himself helped Remus deal with the internal pain, Sirius didn't know. But he knew what it was like to do something, anything, just to relieve it for a little bit. With every sip Sirius felt himself relaxing a little bit more. But it couldn't make him forget, not completely. He wished it could, more than anything. But the abuse and the neglect and the anger and the insecurity and the thoughts of his unrequited love were still there. They were always there, even if only at the very back of his mind. So he ordered another drink. And another. But everything still hurt, and it hurt even more when he realized there was nothing he could do to make it stop. He felt the desire to do something desperate building up inside him, though he wasn't entirely sure why. He was becoming increasingly reckless. Was it like this last time? His drunk mind wondered. I remember this working better. He was becoming number and number. He remembered what the hurt felt like, and he was still holding it closely, but his strong emotions lessened and he felt the need to do something. Anything.

Sirius was just standing up when James entered. His eyes searched the pub and finally landed on Sirius. He seemed slightly disappointed, but not all that surprised to find him there. Even though Sirius didn't have a huge drinking habit, James knew him well.

"Hullo Prongs," Sirius said, his words slurring together.

"Hey Padfoot," James responded. "What do you say we get out of here?"

Sirius expressed his agreement by staggering through the door, trailing behind James. He had barely placed a foot outside the door when he leaned over and retched into the snow, which was pure white, except for a few dirty footprints, and now vomit. The streets, just like the pub, were unusually empty. This was good, because it meant less people would see them. They shouldn't have been in Hogsmeade, and Sirius definitely should not have been too drunk to walk properly. But there they were, James supporting his now clumsy best friend. The empty streets however, also meant that those who could see them could really see them. James tried to throw the invisibility cloak, which he had grabbed from Sirius' table, over Sirius, but he soon tripped and the cloak was pulled off. Plus, James didn't really want puke on his cloak, so he abandoned his attempt. He would just have to hope nobody would see them.

By this point, Sirius was muttering incoherently. James caught a few words here and there like "Remus", "Blood", and "Alone", but none of them made any sense to him whatsoever. James eventually stopped listening, because he had to put all of his effort into dragging a very uncooperative Sirius through the streets. When Sirius fell over and landed face first, leaving a print of his body in the snow, James gave up on trying to get him all the way back to school. He decided it would be best to take him to the Shrieking Shack.

The Shrieking Shack was, well everybody thought it was, an old abandoned house in Hogsmeade. However, it had only been built a few years before, when Remus had come to Hogwarts. Very, very few people knew this. Dumbledore had commissioned it for Remus to use during the full moon. It had gained its nickname when the villagers heard the cries of the wolf in the night. It seemed many of them believed that the shack was haunted. But James and his friends were very well acquainted with the shack, given they joined Remus there once a month. James made sure nobody was around before walking up to the house and opening the door. He quickly shoved Sirius inside.

The room was in tatters. It was full of old furniture, which was now broken. The curtains were ripped and many of the floor boards had been torn out. There were blood spatters on the wall, which he knew belonged to Remus. When he transformed, he often bit himself. The only light was coming from James' wand, because he had preformed Lumos. Remus had previously torn the light from the ceiling, so the room was typically dark. The shack was just creepy. But for the four marauders, it had become a sort of sanctuary.

James plopped Sirius up against the wall.

"You're drunk," James stated plainly.

"Am I?" Sirius said, a slight amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. "I hadn't noticed." Then he started laughing, as if he has said the most humorous thing ever.

The next moment, though, he was crying, and James was left unsure of what to do. It made him uncomfortable to see anybody cry, but this was his best friend. He had only seen Sirius cry once, when he had run away from home. Sirius had shown up on James' doorstep, with only a small bag, his eyes full of tears. He had been living with James ever since. Never again had he seen Sirius so upset. James knew, of course, that Sirius was not as happy as he seemed. But he was bawling his eyes out. He kept biting his hand, as if to stop himself from crying out. He pulled Sirius' hand from his mouth when he broke the skin and drew blood. James didn't think he had ever seen anybody this upset. And he didn't even know why. James was almost…scared. So he sat with Sirius for what seemed like hours, his hands holding onto Sirius' wrists, until the tears finally stopped coming.

"Anything bothering you?" James asked nonchalantly.

Sirius' answer sounded so carefree and light, if he didn't know better, James would never have guessed he had been crying moments before. "Just a tad bit stressed."

"Merlin, Padfoot. You've been crying for a girl for nearly half an hour!" James and Sirius often teased each other, so Sirius knew that James wasn't serious. He laughed.

Normally, Sirius wouldn't have said anything. He would have joked it off and let it be. But he was drunk and his guard was way down and James had already seen him crying anyways. "S-Sorry 'bout that, Prongs." He was now stuttering, and his words were still slurring together, like one single, long, dragged out word.

"Siiirrriusly," James said, making fun of his friend's name. "What's up? Some girl finally break your heart this time? Pull yourself together, man!"

"Says the one who's been pining over the same witch since first year," Sirius shot back, his drunkenness more obvious with every word.

"Hey, that actually worked!"

Sirius continued as though he hadn't heard James say anything at all. "Besides, I wish it were that easy."

"Is it your parents? Regulus?" James queried, his voice taking on a slightly more serious tone.

Sirius shook his head. "Although undoubtedly things would be much easier if they weren't pureblood obsessed maniacs. 'Cause you know," he started. "They tend to go with the majority in every situation."

"What in Merlin's pants are you going on about?"

"They favor- They favor more than just purebloods, of course. Chances are you're not worth shit, 'less you're rich, white, straight…"
"Right. Still failing to see how this affects you in any way. You're all of those things."

Sirius was quiet for a long time after that. James could have sworn he was doing it on purpose, just to keep him in the dark. But Sirius just honestly wasn't sure what to say or do. But his judgment was impaired, and there was still that desperate feeling clinging on inside of him. And so he leaned forward and kissed James.

He didn't like James. Not even close. He liked Remus. And even if he did, he would never go after James, who was with Lily. But he was running out of words, and he didn't know how else to tell James that maybe he wasn't straight. Plus, he was kind of curious to know what it felt like with another bloke.

For a moment, James was far too shocked to do anything. Sirius kissing him? A million things were running through his head. He eventually pushed Sirius off, not too harshly. James' lips now tasted vaguely of alcohol and vomit. But he didn't have time to think of this. He couldn't process anything. He couldn't get his words out.

"You- me- you're not- you don't- not like that- wha?"

Sirius had shushed him. " No. Not like that. Definitely not you. I don't think I would go after you if you were a girl. Not my taste." He said, smirking.

James felt a little relieved, but he was too confused for that to make much of a difference. "But you just- you just k-kissed me."

"Just wanted to see what it would feel like." Sirius was too drunk to even feel embarrassed. He would, of course, regret his rash decision the next morning. "Sorry to disappoint, but my feelings for you are completely platonic."

"Do you- boys- Are you-?"

Gay. Are you gay, Sirius? James' mind was still reeling. Was he gay? But then why was he with so many girls all the time? Never once had Sirius done anything that might have hinted at this. He wondered if Remus had known. He wondered if- and who- Sirius had seemingly fallen for. He wondered why Sirius hadn't told him. Weren't they friends? Don't you trust me, Sirius?

"I- I don't care, you know. We're best mates. You can tell me,"

Sirius' voice became a whimper. "He doesn't feel the same way. He couldn't. I know he doesn't. I can't tell him. But I love him. He needs to know somebody loves him. But I do. And I can't tell him. Because I'm a boy. He's a boy. We're both boys, James. He likes girls. I know he does. He had- He had a girlfriend. He loved her. But I love him." Sirius was muttering quietly by this point, so James could barely hear. Tears were returning to his eyes, and James really didn't want Sirius bawling again.

"Hey- Hey, its okay." He wasn't good at comforting people. He really wasn't. But he couldn't stand to see him cry anymore. "He would be lucky to have you. If he's not an idiot, he'll realize that." James didn't actually think a straight boy would just turn gay for him, but he didn't say that, not with Sirius in this state. "Nobody else is gonna care either, you know. You're still the same Sirius you've always been."

Remus was nervous. His first one-on-one counseling session was that evening. He had no idea what to expect. He was tapping his foot in a quickly paced rhythm, and he was wringing his hands. At one point he had been pacing his section of the wing, but Madam Pomfrey had chastised him, and so he had stopped. He was glad, at least, that he wouldn't have to face group therapy, not yet anyways. He didn't want to talk to a bunch of depressed teenagers, even though he was one himself. Well he didn't really want to spill all of his secrets to a "mental health healer" either, but he figured one person would be easier to face than a whole room of people. But there was no way it could actually help him. Remus thought it would be best to make the healer think he was getting better. He could pretend to be okay, and then when all the adults felt he was doing well enough, he could withdraw into himself once again.

That was one of the things that Remus hated the most about the whole thing; the adults in his life had come along and taken all of his personal freedom and privacy away from him. He wasn't crazy. He knew what he was doing. It was his decision. They didn't have the right to do what they were doing. It was his life.

When the clock struck 4:50, Madam Pomfrey accompanied Remus to Dumbledore's office. His appointment was at 5. Dumbledore had arranged for the floo network in his fireplace to be open for a short period of time, so Remus could get to St. Mungo's. They arrived at the ugly stone gargoyle marking the door to Dumbledore's office, and Madam Pomfrey muttered a password. The gargoyle sprang to life, and the wall opened up. They stepped onto the spiral staircase, and it moved them upwards. Eventually, they came to a door adorned with a griffin-shaped knocker. Dumbledore opened the door before either of them could knock, and beckoned them inside.

There wasn't much time for talking, because Remus had about two minutes until his appointment. Madam Pomfrey grabbed a pinch of floo powder from a bowl Dumbledore handed her, threw it in the fire, which proceeded to turn green, as she shouted "St. Mungo's!". Remus followed suit.

Overall, the night didn't go too horribly. Well, it was, at least, not as bad as Remus had expected it to be. Madam Pomfrey had easily navigated their way through the maze of a hospital. Together they walked up to the psychiatric ward. In the ward, there was a section of offices. This was where Remus too meet his healer. Madam Pomfrey took him to the door of the healer's office, introduced them, and then went on her way, promising to be back on the hour.

The healer had also been a lot more…. Normal than he had expected. She had been friendly and bubbly. She was maybe in her late 20s or early 30s. The beginning of meeting had been spent on her getting to know Remus. She asked about his school life, his home life, about his friends, and more. After twenty minutes, she finally asked him for the reason of his visit. He knew that she already knew; the adults had, of course, taken care of that. But apparently she wanted to hear it from him. He told her that they had made him come. Remus was a lot more honest than he expected he would be. He ended up telling her almost everything. He didn't realize it would feel so good to get it all out. He had never told anyone this much. And it couldn't hurt, right? She was paid to listen to his bullshit, and to keep it all confidential. He told her all about the night he was bitten. He told of his parents fighting. He told of being bullied when he was sent to an elementary school. He told of being bullied at Hogwarts. He told of his insecurity and self-hatred. He even told her that he liked girls and guys. She didn't even bat an eye, which meant more to him than anyone ever would have understood. He told her of his parents attempting to heal him. He told of his love for his womanizer friend. There were hardly any details that he left out. He was, at first, mad at himself for opening up. He had promised himself that he wouldn't. He had even made up a whole plan to get the whole thing over with as soon as possible. But then he realized, telling the truth, at least the beginning of the truth, would make it much more believable when he needed to lie. Which he would need to do, if he ever wanted to be left alone again.

Madam Pomfrey had come to retrieve Remus at exactly 6. She then informed him, on their way back to the headmaster's office, that he would only be required to stay in the hospital wing for one more day and one more night.

Remus couldn't wait until he was free again. It would be difficult of course, to cut now that Sirius knew his secret, and Madam Pomfrey would be checking up on him. But in the hospital wing, it was completely impossible. He would take what he could get. He couldn't wait to let that blade dance across his skin once more.