Hey guys, I've tweaked this chapter very slightly and updated it - you probably won't notice (it's literally a sentence) but if you re-read it then further chapters might make a bit more sense. I'll leave it entirely up to you. :)

Anyone up for more slash? People seem to like reading it (okay, slash is seriously good to read), so even though it's seriously embarrassing to write, if mine is good enough for you, you can convince me to write some more I guess. I'm writing purely for the entertainment of the reader (i.e. you, yes, YOU) because I have no life and nothing else to live for (except re-watching Starship), so in the words of our beloved Brian Holden: 'You decide! And lemme know.' If you're sat there going, 'Brian who?' then you clearly haven't lived – YouTube A Very Potter Musical. Then watch the Sequel.

So, yeah. If you want more slash, review and let me know. You'll get more slash after a while (if you want it) and I'll get more reviews – everyone's a winner! :)

Except poor Wendy. But hey, you never know. She might get a happy ending. I'm still undecided. And I'm digressing again.

DISCLAIMER: I own no part of the Harry Potter books, films, etc. Everything belongs to JKR/Warner Bros.

All bits from the book(s) are in bold

The Meaning Of Family

Chapter Ten

'Sirius!'

'What? I was only suggesting it!'

'We can't do that, Sirius! Apart from the fact that it's dangerous and idiotic and only you could conceive such an idea, imagine what people would say!'

'I only suggested it!'

'Yes, but we all know that when you suggest an idea you invariably want to try it out.'

'Come on, you know you want to really. It'll be fun!'

'No it won't, it's a stupid idea and I won't be part of it.'

'But I need you, Moony! How am I supposed to do it on my own? That's impossible!'

'Well, well, well, what's all this then?'

'Sirius wants to lure Snape into the Shrieking Shack while I'm transformed!'

'Awesome! Let's do it!'

'See? Prongs has no objections!'

'Well, at the risk of offending anybody, however good Prongs thinks your idea is, it's not. So I'm not doing it.'

'Come on!'

'No! You'll kill him!'

'And?'

'Very funny, Sirius. It's not going to happen.'

'It's not really like you have a choice, Moony. Once you're a werewolf you'll go after Snivellus whether you want to or not.'

'So you're going to betray my trust?'

'We're not betraying your trust, Moony!'

'Oh yeah? I trust you not to let me put anyone else in danger while I'm transformed. Now you want to play a joke like that on Snape? I could kill him!'

'We won't kill Snivellus! We'll just make him mess his pants!'

'You're not doing it, okay? Promise me.'

'Fine. Spoil sport. We won't do it.'

'Promise?'

'I said we won't!'

'Promise me!'

'Fine! Alright, I promise!'

He never had kept his promises, even then.

Oh Moony, save me.

How the hell had this happened? They'd all known they were in danger, every single one of them, and yet nobody had really expected this.

What a stupid thought. Of course they hadn't expected this.

It was just like he'd told Remus: one moment he was some happy-go-lucky teenage sex god, the next two of his best friends had died and he was now in charge of a kid. He'd still had Remus, though, whom he loved and who could calm him down when he was in a rage, and who he knew would always be there, like a safety net for a tight-rope walker – even when you fell off, Remus was there to catch you. He always had been. But now his safety net had been taken away, and he was gradually coming to the realisation that he was slowly falling to earth with no one to catch him and nothing to break his fall. He was alone; the only things that could possibly pass for company in his parents' house where a crazy old woman, a crazy old House Elf and a baby who couldn't talk and at any rate seemed just as depressed as him.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Rain pounded at the window, begging to be let in from the night's wild storm. The howling wind reflected his own rage at being cooped up in this stupid house with no saviour, at being left to fend for himself with no Remus, and with a crazy pro-pureblood old bat and a half-deranged House Elf – these were, he felt, poor substitutes for his kind, gentle, lovable Moony. He needed someone to hold and to kiss and to love and the one person he wanted was miles and miles away in some tiny little hamlet in the country. Owls hooted in the darkness and reminded him of letters that he didn't have, letters that he should be receiving and replying to but couldn't see the point of doing so.

There isn't much to tell…

Clearly Remus wasn't interested in corresponding with him anymore. Clearly he was having a much better time back home, probably with that stupid dumb blonde from the hospital. Perhaps he was even glad to be rid of Sirius and Harry, and to have his freedom back, and live the wild life that a twenty-one year old should be living. Perhaps he'd never really wanted them there, but he'd taken them anyway, because he was Remus, and kind and too polite to say no. Yes… He and that irritating Wendy were probably laughing at Sirius behind his back, laughing at his stupidity, his presumption, his irrational notion that Remus had wanted him when really he was just a tool, just an idiot boy to be laughed at and mocked…

Poisonous thoughts seeped through his brain, tarnishing his memories, burning holes in his beliefs. Perhaps there'd never really been a Sirius-and-Remus. An 'us'. Maybe it really had been just some crazy one night stand that didn't mean a thing at all. Not to Remus anyhow. If that was so, wasn't it also possible they'd never really been friends in the first place? Perhaps he'd never even had any friends. Maybe they were all sorry for him, because he was an outcast, a misfit, and oddball, shunned from his crazy family with their anti-Muggle beliefs and their pro-pureblood leanings because he was in Gryffindor, not Slytherin, like the rest of them. Because he'd had McGonagall as Head of House, instead of Slughorn. Because he'd never really fitted in, and so they'd taken pity on him and let him join their gang of mischief makers and marauders…

The Marauders.

Their gang.

Only, it hadn't been a gang, had it? Only now did he see how stupid he'd been. Only now did he realise that they never had been a group, a gang, a circle of friends.

He'd fallen right off that tightrope and down to earth. Except that, at the end of his fall, he saw that he wasn't hitting the ground.

He'd fallen right into a pit of snakes and wasps and Blast-Ended Skrewts.

14th December 1981

Dear Padfoot –

I was just wondering if you were alright, because I haven't heard from you in a while. I assumed you were busy at first, and you probably think I'm an awful fusspot for checking up on you, but I just wanted to make sure your mother hadn't driven you to insanity already. How is she by the way? Give her my regards, please.

It's pretty lonely here without you. Sorry, that's a stupid thing to say – it's an understatement to say the least. It's really quiet and sometimes I can't sleep because my bed feels a lot bigger without you, and not in a good way. There isn't really much to tell you, my life's pretty boring these days as I don't do much. Dumbledore came round the other day just to see how I was coping without you (I lied and said I was fine, because I didn't want him to worry, although now that I come to think about it, maybe I should have just in case he decided to let you live with me again) and he said the Ministry had told him they wanted to offer me a job, though he warned me this was probably just a bribe in exchange for information about you. (Don't worry, I haven't taken it.) It did make me think, though. I'm not sure what I'm going to do about money now that James and Lily aren't supporting me anymore. I know it sounds selfish and disregarding of others but I really don't mean it like that. I was thinking about possibly moving, as there aren't any jobs going in the village at the moment, but of course I'll have to find somebody to buy the house, so I was wondering what your thoughts are on this. Do you think I should sell it and find a job elsewhere or just try and see if anything turns up nearby? I don't really have anyone else to talk to; the villagers are nice, and of course there's Wendy but they're just not the same. I really miss you, Padfoot. I'm kind of hoping you miss me too, or you can at least pretend you are, because otherwise I'll feel a bit awkward now.

Anyway, how's Harry? I'll bet he's developing fast. Is he talking yet? How about walking? Don't get worried if he's not, apparently boys develop a lot later than girls. How much has he grown? I bet I won't recognise him next time I see him, he'll be so much bigger. I wonder if he'll need glasses, like James? He looks exactly like his dad, except that he's got Lily's eyes. I bet everyone says that, though. It's pretty obvious, you don't even have to take a proper look at him to see it.

How's his scar? Is it still not hurting him? I was asking Dumbledore about it, I described it and told him all about it, and he said it's probably where Voldemort's curse rebounded. Nobody's really sure what happened to him; some people think he's dead, but Dumbledore and Hagrid don't agree. I'm sure Dumbledore knows something we don't, he was talking about the fact that perhaps Voldemort's got an inability to die, and something about Hogwarts and shiny objects (something about treasure, anyway). Half of it didn't make sense, but he wouldn't repeat it when I asked him. I assume he's got some kind of theory about Voldemort and what happened to him that night, but he doesn't seem to know of his whereabouts any better than we do.

Talking of missing people, the Order still hasn't found Peter. Dumbledore's let everyone know about his being an Animagus – we're using the Burrow as the Order's headquarters these days – but no one seems to have spotted a rat anywhere. I suppose it's only natural, of course – how many rats must there be in Britain? It's not like he has any distinguishing features, , except for that scratch on his nose from that time I clawed him by accident in the Shrieking Shack, and a creature that small could be anywhere. Dumbledore hasn't let slip about you and James being Animagi, but I'm sure Molly Weasley definitely smelled a rat (if you'll excuse the pun), and started asking questions about how on earth Peter could have brewed an Animagus potion himself without any 'outside help'. I'm not sure she fully believes you're innocent, Sirius, even though you are technically still in the Order; you have to remember, she reads the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly and she seems to believe everything she reads. Also, Arthur works at the Ministry, though he seems a damn sight more willing to accept the fact that you've been wrongly accused than his wife.

Looking forward to your reply (that's a hint, Padfoot)

Moony

21st December 1981

Padfoot –

Merry Christmas and all that. Yes, I'm just reminding you that it's a week since my last letter and you still haven't replied.

Are you alright? I'm genuinely worried about you and I'm starting to think the Ministry might have called – although I would have seen that in the Prophet, of course – or worse, Death Eaters. I know the Ministry's captured and imprisoned most of the ones we know of, but that means it's leaning on the Prophet to publish reports of how good our government is (ha ha), and might not care if you get killed, if you catch my (very obvious) drift.

Perhaps it might help the Ministry's image, but I'm still worried about you and if you don't reply within a week I'm contacting Dumbledore. In case you're worried I'm not actually bothered about you so why should you worry, I'm actually also worried about your godson, who does indeed happen to be wanted by most Voldemort-supporters across the country, regardless of the fact that your mother also rather liked his policies of killing off Muggle-borns.

I've enclosed a package for Harry – I'm not telling you what it is because I want you both to open it on Christmas morning and be so excited that it might compel you to write a letter to me sometime. There's something for you too, and no, you can't open it now. Save it. It's only four days away.

I want a letter from you, Padfoot, or else I really will get in touch with Dumbledore. I'll give you a week because I'm kind and I understand that you hate that house and you're depressed to be back there, but I'm really, really worried, so you'd better have a good excuse for not writing.

Tidings,

Moony

28th December 1981

That's it. I'm contacting Dumbledore.

Moony

28th December 1981

Moony –

Don't tell Dumbledore to come round, I'll only want to hit him even more. I'm fine and so is Harry and yes he does look-exactly-like-James-but-he's-got-Lily's-eyes and yes it is rather obvious if you don't mind me saying.

Thanks for the Tales of Beedle the Bard, and for the photo and the Appleby Arrows boxers, I might start a collection. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you too. Have fun snogging Wendy on New Year's.

Padfoot

30th December 1981

Dear Padfoot –

Next time you decided not to write, change your mind please. I've been really worried, I don't think I've slept in at least a week, so thanks for that. Glad you and Harry liked your Christmas presents, though, I couldn't think what to get you. The Tales of Beedle the Bard was mine when I was a kid, I thought you and Harry both might enjoy reading them. Of course, you'll be familiar with most of them, but there will be a few that I bet your mum didn't tell you. I found the photo in amongst my vast collection of Defence textbooks; it made me think about the old days.

How was your Christmas? Mine was pretty quiet and I'm assuming yours was too. Did Harry have a marginally less depressing time than you or was it about the same?

Please write soon,

Moony

P.S. And what's all this about me snogging Wendy? I won't be snogging Wendy. I never have had and never will have any desire to, thank you very much.

Sirius frowned as he watched the snow falling softly outside. The pearly grey daylight was barely visible through the swirl of ice-crystals whirling around, drifting lazily to the ground while still others fell from frozen clouds way up in the mid-afternoon sky. He sighed for the fourth time and looked over at Harry, who was sleeping peacefully in his cot, blankets tucked right up to his chin, one tiny fist clutching the top coverlet as he dreamed peaceful unconscious dreams, untroubled thoughts, innocent fantasies. He wasn't troubled at all by his past – he could barely even remember it – whilst others were left to stew in the mess of it, courtesy of the most feared Dark wizard ever known, even more so than the legendary Grindlewald.

He looked at the photograph again, the one that Remus had sent. Lily and James's wedding day. It was picture-perfect, a storybook setting, from the weather to the little church in Godric's Hollow to the event itself. To think that, just three years previously, the thought of marrying James Potter would have made Lily Evans's stomach turn. Yet there she was, in a simple but elegant dress, waving up from the picture, bright green eyes alight with happiness. James stood, arm in arm with her, grinning madly, unable to believe he'd actually tied the knot with the girl of his dreams. And to the right, slightly behind, he saw himself laughing at the camera. It was almost as if he were mocking himself. And next to him, behind James – yes… he wouldn't have even spotted Remus if he hadn't known where to look.

But he didn't want to look. Why shouldn't he eradicate every part of Remus from his life? It seemed the most rational thing to do. After all, despite Remus's protests that he wouldn't be kissing Wendy at midnight on New Year's Eve, it seemed he wasn't really missing Sirius at all. All his threats to go to Dumbledore, all his claims that he missed him, that he was worried, were all empty, Sirius now saw. He knew now that Remus was pitying him, because he was stuck in this stupid prison of a house, because the only other sane person around he couldn't have a proper conversation with. Remus wasn't missing him. He was probably having a whale of a time without him. He'd never wanted him in the first place. Hadn't he made that clear? Hadn't he told Sirius not to be stupid when Sirius had declared that he loved him?

Stupid, stupid Sirius. Maybe this was why Pureblood families married their children off to other Pureblood families' children. Aside from the 'continuation of the noble line', it also meant that their kids didn't have to suffer unrequited love.

Well. They at least didn't have the option of chasing a crush and eventually being subjected to rejection and humiliation. Or worse – pity.

In the cot beside him, Harry woke up and began to murmur.

'Oh, boy,' Sirius sighed. 'Have you got a hell of a lot coming to you.'

'Are you alright?' Wendy asked, flopping down onto Remus's sofa.

Remus considered reverting to his default 'Yes, fine' but something stopped him. 'No,' he said shakily, his voice cracked. Wendy offered him a hug, and he half-collapsed into her welcoming arms.

'What is it?' she said, patting him on the back of the head.

'Sirius,' he mumbled, wanting to cry. He just couldn't understand what he'd done. He didn't know why Sirius was so cold all of a sudden, and worse, he didn't know how to fix it. He'd known that Sirius would be depressed once back at his old house, but this was worse, this was… almost as though he didn't want to know Remus anymore.

Wendy sighed. 'What's he done now?'

Remus pulled away, offended on Sirius's behalf. 'Nothing! He hasn't done anything! He hasn't!' he cried as Wendy rolled her eyes.

'Right. So you're just depressed all of a sudden and he had nothing to do with it? I believe you.'

'It's not him, it's me, I've done something. But I don't know what and it's really getting to me and I just want Sirius back!'

Wendy was rather startled by this sudden outburst of emotion, and patted Remus on the back uncertainly. 'Maybe… um, maybe you should… I dunno, try talking to him?'

'I've tried!' Remus moaned. 'I wrote to him about five hundred times and all I got was a really short, cold reply. And he said something about me snogging you on New Year's Eve!'

Wendy laughed in spite of herself. 'I thought you… you know. Did it with him? How could he possibly think you're interested in me? I'm a girl.'

'I know,' Remus sniffed. 'I just… I dunno. I thought he knew. I thought he knew I loved him. I told him at least seven hundred times.'

'Okay, hyperboles aside, do you think you ever might have talked about me a little too much? I mean, at the risk of offending you, he did kind of seem like the jealous type.'

Remus sighed. 'Yeah. He's pretty possessive,' he admitted.

'Right. So, maybe you just happened to mention my name in passing and he got really mad or something.'

Remus raised his eyebrows. 'He's not that jealous,' he told her.

Wendy considered for a moment. 'We did kiss right outside your door while he was watching, didn't we? Maybe it was that.'

He shook his head. 'We weren't together then. And anyway, I think you'll find you kissed me.'

'Whatever,' Wendy sighed. 'That's still enough to make a guy jealous, especially yours. Maybe you should just give him some time to come round.'

'But it's Sirius,' Remus muttered. 'I'm scared he'll do something stupid.'

'Nah,' Wendy said in an off-hand manner. 'Not if he's got a kid. Anyway, I've got to dash, my shift at the hospital starts in a minute. I tell you, Remus, never work night shifts, it's rubbish. Bye, then. I bet he really does love you.'

She waved and walked out; a second later Remus heard the front door close. He sighed and stood up, grabbing a record without even bothering to check the title, and slipping it into his record player – a gift, he remembered with a pang, from Sirius. Despite having perpetually teased him about his love of Muggle music, Sirius had bought him the record player as a coming-of-age present when he'd turned seventeen. He remembered the shock of waking up and seeing at least a dozen owls flying towards the window of his dormitory, carrying the heavy package. Smiling a little sadly at the memory, Remus flopped back down onto the sofa as the soft sound of music filled the room.

'Dirty old river, must you keep rolling, flowing into the night?'

Remus lay back and let the song wash over him. Somehow, for some reason, this song always made him think of Sirius. It wasn't as if Sirius had bought the record or anything – he probably hadn't even heard of The Kinks – but, inexplicably, every time he listened to Waterloo Sunset, Sirius's handsome face, his dark hair and his cheeky, roguish grin were all Remus could think about. He would hear that laugh, see those eyebrows raised and wonder when Sirius was going to realise how madly in love with him Remus was.

Tonight was no exception, and as he lay there he wondered what on earth he'd done to hurt Sirius so badly, and more importantly, how he could patch things up.

'As long as I gaze on Waterloo sunset, I am in paradise…'

He could feel himself slipping into unconsciousness, and contemplated vaguely whether it was worth asking Dumbledore if he knew what was wrong with Sirius.

Two hundred miles away, Sirius looked down at the crumpled piece of parchment in his hand. He could still recall, at seventeen, asking Remus who the hell Terry and Julie were, and what the 'underground' was, and getting nothing but eyes rolled at him in response. He'd written down the lyrics to the song with the intention of finding out about these people and their undergrounds (underground what?).

And they don't need no friends

As long as they gaze on Waterloo sunset

They are in paradise…

He scrunched the piece of parchment up once more in his fist, wondering when, and how on earth, his world had so quickly fallen to pieces.

Okay, so I overused the word 'wonder' a bit in that chapter – sorry! As you can probably guess, I'm a big Kinks fan. Waterloo Sunset is one of my favourite songs and I do actually make obscure references to my life. I also kinda like the idea of dramatic music in movies in a real-life context (obviously this is not real-life, but you know what I mean – I like the idea of relevant music playing during dramatic moments in my life), so that's what I decided to do. Let me know if you like/detest it and I'll try and work in some more/stop doing it all together. :)