A/N: Yeah, this fic's still alive! YAY! It's just been a very busy however-long-it-took-me-to-update! :P Please forgive me, I'm back, I promise. There's a lot in this chapter, even though it's a little shorter than my last. One thing I would genuinely love your opinions on is the Darkness and that sub-plot. I have big ideas for that, and I will be launching those very soon. Another thing, the more perceptive of you may see a new side to Keiran. That is not in any way a one-off. That will be expanded upon, though not soon. This chapter contains a *TRIGGER WARNING!* in the Darkness paragraphs, in the late bit. It makes explicit mention of torture, and the breaking of will, though no torture is actually. To my shame, I've also mentioned the vilest and cruellest form of this, which is child torture. I DO NOT IN ANY WAY CONDONE IT. I feel it necessary to warn you that, after this book is finished, whenever that may be, the balance of light-dark becomes extremely unbalanced, with dark coming out on top. The next two books are not going to be as pleasant and happy as this one, and this one's fairly angsty. As usual, I will be separating the plots in this chapter with a horizontal line. I will also put a warning before the Darkness' *TRIGGER WARNING* chapter. It may seem pedantic, but I believe it's better to be cautious. Your loving author, Josh :)

P.S: Also, WOOO! After this chapter, I've beaten by 40k challenge! Thank you for your support! :P

Part III - Alone and Together

Lyall Lupin was stressed. He had returned home to rest that night. His wife, Hope, was waiting for him. "How is he?" She asked, as soon as he stepped through the door.
"He'll live." Lyall said sternly, causing Hope to frown.
"What's wrong, love?" Hope asked, walking over to him. The living room thankfully contained no evidence of the meeting that had taken place just weeks earlier. Nothing had changed on that front, and the Minister was taking an agonisingly slow approach to it. When Lyall had first received the news that his son was grievously injured, he had assumed that the Dark Lord's plan had come into action. Thankfully, that wasn't the case. It had just been some idiotic Slytherins. Lyall's thoughts weren't clouded by this, but by something else entirely.
"It's Remus... That boy, Black." Lyall was mumbling, and ran a hand through his greying hair.
"What about them, love?" Hope asked, as she sat him in his armchair.
"They... They like each other." Lyall sounded somewhat like a child, furrowing his brow and seeming to hunch into himself. Slightly oddly, Hope laughed.
"Yes, I thought they did." She noticed his expression, one of misery, "Why does that bother you?"
"They... It..." Lyall stammered slightly, before sighing, "It's not right." He settled on saying that, and winced as his wife slightly recoiled.
"What do you mean 'it isn't right'?" Hope asked. Her voice had turned stern, and her kind smile had gone.
"Well... It's not natural." Lyall's voice now turned meek; petulant.
"Not... Natural?" Hope sounded indignant, and her eyes had gotten wider in confusion and anger.

Lyall Lupin was outside, walking around. His wife had shouted at him long and hard, and Lyall felt about a foot tall. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and he walked in a defeated manner. His head was hung low, and he was mouthing excuses to no-one but himself. His wife had, in no short terms, kicked him out. He felt miserable, though not guilty. Why should he be ashamed? It wasn't his fault his son was... Was like he was. Lyall snarled and threw a punch, succeeding only in smashing his knuckles against a lamppost. With a yelp, he jumped back and yelled to the sky. One simple word, with several, very complicated answers: "WHY?" Lyall saw several Muggles jump back and, he noted, one wizard draw into his pocket, likely for his wand. Lyall gave a small shake of his head, knowing and respecting how he must look. Lyall's clothes were dishevelled, his hair was a mess and he was shaking, he noted. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes as he did. Lyall was currently a mess. A heavy sigh once again left his lips, and he leant back on a lamppost.
"You're failing." A voice said, and Lyall cricked his neck from how quickly he turned to the source of it. Greyback looked harrowed. Somehow, his beast-like nature had been tamed, and his face was gaunt.
"Excuse me?" Lyall asked, slightly indignantly.
"Two werewolves have died since we last talked. All within the area of Hogsmeade." Greyback informed him. "Within... Maybe five miles of Hogwarts. You know what that means, Lupin."
"You shouldn't be here... If you're seen..." Lyall said, in a quiet voice.
"In a pathetic, Muggle-ridden village?" Greyback snorted, "I doubt they'd look for me here. Anyhow, the Dark Lord is somewhat... Distracted at the moment. There's been a string of very... Gruesome murders."
"Where?" Lyall asked, blinking. He hadn't heard about these.
"Hogsmeade." Greyback frowned, but shook his head, "Don't change the subject. Werewolves are dying, and you aren't stopping it."
"We're trying our best." Lyall replied, stubbornly.
"Your 'best' isn't good enough." Greyback was slowly becoming angry. His voice had turned to a growl, "I warn you, Lupin. If you do not act soon, your son will die." Lyall turned to face the man, but he had gone. A silent disapparation? I underestimated him. Lyall found himself thinking.

Sirius was sleeping. He was leant across Remus' bed and rested his top half on Remus' legs, his bottom half still in the chair. He was very uncomfortable, though didn't notice in his unconscious state. There was no noise coming from either of them, and no activity, spare the rhythmic rise and fall of their chests as they breathed. The position they both were in was much less compromising than the one James had found them in, from what felt like so long ago, but was much shorter. Sirius was slumbering dreamlessly, though he occasionally returned to half-consciousness, when his body felt too uncomfortable. The Hospital Wing was still, save for Madam Pomfrey busying herself at some points. It was past midnight, and darkness filled the room. Madam Pomfrey had considered throwing Sirius out, but found she had not the heart to. Let the boys rest. She thought to herself, as she sat in her office. She had decided that night not to leave the Hospital Wing, so she could keep an eye on them both. The bleeding had reduced severely, almost to a negligible degree. Remus would have some nasty, permanent scars, but nothing life-threatening. Despite the horror of the past few days, Poppy found herself smiling a sincere smile. The boys before her were both so... Damaged; both so hurt. Yet, despite their damage and hurt, they found solace in each other. It was truly unfortunate that it had to come about because of this, but she was glad it had come about nonetheless. The war had taken a lot from the school. Every day, there were reports about deaths and disappearances; usually, of people Poppy had known, and people that the staff had taught. It saddened her to a massive amount, the people who had died from this pathetic, meaningless war. Poppy was very proud to call herself an opposer to the War. She had refused to join the Order of the Phoenix, telling Dumbledore she had no wish to fight, only to help. In Poppy's mind, there were no two things more different. She did, however, accept the offer of helping any of the Order who needed help. Several times, she'd had to make excuses to students, regarding the hidden bed in the back which, more times than Poppy would have liked, was filled with an adult, usually with a debilitating injury. Poppy hated the War. She hated the never-ending fighting, and the death that accompanied it. Dumbledore had asked once for her opinion on it. Her only response had been "We're all some mother's child." Dumbledore had looked genuinely ashamed for a minute, before continuing his jovial attitude towards her. When Poppy looked at the boys now, so peaceful in the dead of night, the thought occurred to her again. "We're all some mother's child." She whispered to the darkness.

The Darkness heard.

It was morning. Sirius woke up, and groaned as he felt the previous night's pain rush upon him. His back and neck ached, and he rubbed his spine gently, grimacing. He frowned as he looked at Remus, who's head was resting sideways on the pillow. "Morning, Moony." Sirius said, turning away. He stood, and was about to walk away. He froze halfway. He turned back to Remus, and blinked at him. Remus' head had moved. Sirius felt his insides churn, and he grinned widely. "Remus?" He asked, in a whisper. He received no answer. He was sure, however. Remus' head had shifted position. He glanced over at Madam Pomfrey's desk, where she was asleep. Loathing himself thoroughly for the action, he ran over to her, and jabbed her slightly. She awoke with a start.
"Huh?" She asked, in a very un-Pomfreyish manner. She saw the raven-haired boy before him, "Can I help you, Mr. Black?"
"He's moved." That was all she needed to hear. She jumped to her feet (thankfully, she was wearing her robes), and ran over to Remus' bed. After sweeping him over with her eyes, she concluded he had, in fact, moved. Her face broke into a very unprofessional grin, finally being able to feel relieved for Remus.
"He's coming around, then..." Poppy once again became Madam Pomfrey, and she turned to Sirius. "I need you to go and find Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick, and bring them here. He may be a little... Confused when he wakes up, but that's normal." Her voice was rushed, and she hurried him out quickly. Sirius grinned and ran from the Hospital Wing, bumping into several younger students as he did. As unapologetic as ever, he ignored Madam Pomfrey's instructions, and headed straight for the Common Room. Soon, he'd regret that.

It was getting brighter in the Field. It was sunnier, somehow, and the very place seemed to be glowing ethereally. Remus was still sat on the grass, on a spot slightly peaked from the rest. He was looking over the world with some slight awe. It had worn off considerably, after the first hour or so. Remus hadn't slept, not in this world. The Field was endless, he'd found, and he kept finding himself in the same spot, as in a circle. It didn't worry him. Somehow, Remus knew he was waking up. He could feel more than he'd been able to before, and the Field felt less... Real, somehow. When he first arrived, he'd been convinced it was real. Now, though... Now it seemed less authentic, more like a fevered dream. Remus knew that soon, he'd be waking up. Soon, he'd be back with his friends, back with him. That was what concerned Remus the most; the dark-haired boy had occupied his thoughts a lot more than Remus would care to admit. Remus needed to talk to him; to simply see him. Remus could see him there, smiling at him from afar. Remus felt butterflies in his stomach, as fresh nerves set in. He could feel his body waking up, his entire system restarting. Remus was waking up, and he couldn't wait.

Sirius practically leapt into the Gryffindor Common Room, finding his friends gathered morosely around the fire. They all looked at him in astonishment when they saw him. Sirius was grinning ear-to-ear, and hadn't been able to sort out his clothes. He looked like he'd been dragged through a bush, as the saying goes. "Pads?" James asked, standing up, "What is it?" Sirius had to wait a minute before he could catch his breath.
"It's... Remus." He panted, laughing breathlessly.
"What about him?" Lily was now stood, too, "Is he okay?"
"Why are you so happy, Sirius?" Marlene asked, looking at him like he was mad.
"He's awake." Sirius told them, and he was amazed at the speed of which they all stood. He put his hands out, as they all began to walk forward. "Wait here." He told them, grin fading, "I have to find the Professors first. Then I'll come back and get you." Sirius said, frowning slightly.
"Are you mad? No, we're coming now." James sounded slightly indignant. He started to move forwards, but Sirius shook his head.
"No." He said quietly, "I have to get them and... I need to talk to him alone, too." Sirius said, a bit firmer than he would usually have spoken. Rather hesitantly, James sat back down.
"Fine. But you find us as soon as you do." James warned him, pointing at him as if to illustrate the severity of the instruction. Sirius nodded and, without another word, sped off. Every inhabitant in the Common Room was now frowning.

Sirius was, once again, running. The aged halls of Hogwarts seemed longer than ever, and fuller than ever. Sirius growled under his breath, as he made his way as quickly as possible towards McGonagall's office. He wasn't looking where he was going, and before he knew it, he was sprawled on the ground, a mess of limbs for all to see. Sirius made a noise that was a mixture between a groan and a growl. When he finally stood, wobbling slightly, he was faced with a familiar face. "Keiran?" He asked, blinking. The blue-eyed boy blinked back at him, before nodding.
"Yes, that would be me. Why are you running around, Sirius?"
"It's Remus." Sirius said, his grin returning. When he saw Keiran's look, he hesitated to speak the rest. The look was so... Evident. Sirius knew how Keiran felt, and it froze his insides for a moment. Was that what he looked like? Was that look the same look he'd worn when Madam Pomfrey had told him that he was waking up; a look of love-filled, if not slightly lustful, hope? It scared Sirius how much trouble he had in saying the next three words: "He's waking up." Sirius felt a horrible feeling of foreshadowing, as he saw Keiran freeze. Sirius hurriedly carried on. "You can't see him, though. Wait 'till someone comes and gets you." Keiran opened his mouth, presumably to protest, but Sirius stuck out a hand to stop him. "Keiran, trust me. It's what Pomfrey told me." He said, his voice coming out colder than he would have liked. Keiran's expression changed to one of slight hurt, before changing again, into a look that contained some chill.
"Fine. But make sure I get told, Black." The use of his surname stung slightly, but Sirius simply nodded, and raced off once more. Keiran watched Sirius round a corner with surprising speed, almost banging into a wall as he did. Keiran saw this and, after Sirius was gone, allowed himself a sly smile. Screw you, Black, he thought, before walking very calmly towards the Hospital Wing.

Sirius had finally notified all of the Professors, and set off at a steady pace to the Common Room. He'd soon regret slowing down, or allowing that first-year to pass him in the corridor (a rare showing of compassion from the sometimes-arrogant Gryffindor). Sirius finally reached the Common Room. He stopped for a valuable moment, catching his breath after the lengthy exercise. After a few seconds attempting to remember the password, owing solely to his whirring mind, Sirius entered the Common Room. Within a few seconds, they were all stood. James, Peter, Lily, Emmeline, Marlene, Evan and even Kingsley were there. All but Kingsley looked rather anxious; Kingsley having retained that signature calm. Sirius scanned them all quickly and nodded. Without another word, they all left the Common Room. They walked almost in a ranked formation: Sirius, James and Peter were in front, the remaining three (healthy) Marauders, followed closely by Kingsley, Evan and Lily. Marlene and Emmeline brought up the back. Sirius' mind was whirring, though one feeling stood out from the rest: Worry. It was intense, and he could feel his gut being tied in knots from the stress of it. He felt ill, to all effect. His mind was whirring with possible scenarios. They included Sirius and Remus locked in a lover's embrace, forgetting about the world at large, and simply hugging for what felt like an eternity. Another, more worrying, scenario included Remus rejecting Sirius, naming him a freak, a fraud, and other such insults (insults that, though he would never admit it, had been used to demoralise him in the Black Household). Sirius was very afraid of the latter, though he fully expected it to come to that. Now that he was approaching the situation, he found himself less excited about the inevitable reunion with the boy he'd watched over for what felt like weeks, but had really been a day or two. Sirius froze for a second. When James looked at him in questioning, Sirius found himself faced with a moral dilemma. What do I do? Do I go and get Keiran, or don't I? He found himself thinking, though he was ashamed to even be considering the idea of breaking his word to someone. I've known him longer, Sirius found himself thinking, his conscience sounding somewhat like a petulant child. He was making excuses now? Sirius bit his lip, not noticing that the party accompanying him had stopped too. Tell him, or don't tell him? Sirius asked himself once again. Sirius had no clue what to do, and yet knew exactly what he should do. Accepting the fact he'd regret it either way, Sirius sighed and looked at the others, "I'll catch you guys up. I have to find Keiran."

*TRIGGER WARNING IN EFFECT NOW*

The Darkness had heard that pathetic matron's pleas, of course. It heard everything. Every rumbling of discontent from the sorry excuses for students in that school, often about homework, or problems of 'love'. Love, pah. As if any of those useless adolescents would know a thing about love. Only the Darkness knew true love. It would show them true love. Devotion to a cause, not only willing to give life and limb, but soul and heart. Soon, all of the worthless children would be orphaned of their souls, and their will. They would all bend to its orders, and they would submit. It would make itself a new army, an army of lost souls. As if on cue, the Darkness felt the life leave the victim at its feet. Poor man, he'd simply wandered across the Darkness' path. Now, the man had been torn to shreds, both physically and emotionally. Before he'd died, the man had begged, not for life, but for the end. It was funny, the Darkness thought, how often that happened. How often men, women and children alike begged for their end, as the Darkness hurt, maimed and tortured in ways the human mind could scarcely conjure up, never mind believe. They always begged to die, always cried... Always whimpered. The Darkness loved it. It revelled in their pleas for release, revelled in making them submit to its will. It was fond of the irony, too. The irony that the very people who begged for death were often its most loyal followers, twisted and turned by the pain they'd suffered before, and during, death. The Darkness resurrected them all, and twisted them more. The Darkness liked to think of this as... Re-education. As the Darkness looked across at Hogwarts, it pondered on the uselessness and pointlessness of the education served there. Soon, the Darkness would strike, and the only education any child would ever need was the sublime torture it provided. The sublimity was, of course, purely on its part. Its students very rarely appreciated the love and care behind its actions. Their screams were the Darkness' purpose. When they cracked, it had won the final battle. When the screams died, it had triumphed the will. It was all a war, inside the pathetic body of whomever had the misfortune to stray in the dark. The bodies broke, the minds soon after... But the most delicious victory was when the soul seeped out of their eyes (a purely figurative statement, of course.). When the light of hope left those maddened eyes, and the dullness of hopelessness and submission settled in its place. The Darkness loved those final few moments.

The Darkness could remember the last time it was allowed to spread itself free. When it could feel without fear of discovery. The Darkness thought of these years as its Golden Years. Two World Wars, happening on either side of the World. On the Wizarding side of things, it was more like a massacre of will. Grindelwald had subdued almost all of Continental Europe, resulting in an increased amount of despair, something the Darkness fed on. Nurmengard had been built... Oh, Nurmengard... The Darkness remembered that place fondly. That had been an eternal feast for it, and it had tortured the inhabitants of that brutal place into submission, using only the worst torture feasible: That of the mind. The Darkness had made them beg for death once again, though the sweetest victories had come from those that begged only for madness, a freedom the Darkness would never grant. The Darkness had never granted death, either; Not to those incarcerated in the prison... No, they had to remain alive, a constant source of nutrition, as well as amusement, for it to extort and use as it wished. Those men had been broken and cracked by the end, hollow shells of men that had hardly the effort to be happy when Grindelwald had finally fallen by the hand of Albus Dumbledore. Oh, Dumbledore... That old fool would be the sweetest feast for the Darkness' devilish hunger. The Darkness knew all of his past, all of the tragedies he had suffered... How sweet he would taste.

Of course, the Darkness hadn't neglected the Muggle side of that era, either. 1939-45 was the Second World War, at least from a Muggle's blind view. The misery, the misfortune, the... Depression. The Darkness had never been so overwhelmed with choices for candidates. The sadness those unfortunate people had suffered in those six years had been the most luxurious of the Darkness' eternal existence. Their misery had been so delectable, and it had tortured so many of them into submission... Once again, they had begged for death. The Darkness had granted an abundance of death, in those six years. Men, women, children... Oh, the children. They had been delicious. Their screams, so youthful... So naïve. Their cries for their parents, never to see them again. It had been beautiful. The Darkness was not a man, nor a woman. The Darkness was the very definition of a monster. It was the shadow of doubt, in the back of everyone's mind. It was the fear of the dark. It was the flickering streetlight at midnight. It was the evil inside each of everyone's hearts. It was the hatred that haunted every man's mind. It was the prejudice, the angst, the depression, the anxiety, the fear, the dislike, the hesitation of a brave man. Most dangerously, the Darkness was awake.

*TRIGGER WARNING ENDS NOW*

Sirius couldn't find Keiran anywhere. He was getting annoyed now, and had to clench the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger just to keep patient. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Merlin! This idiot is playing hide-and-seek, while the person I... Sirius paused in his own mind, frowning, The person I care for is waking up from a coma? Screw this, screw him. Sirius had had enough. Annoyance had set in now, and he clenched his fists at his side, and set off at a stride towards the Hospital Wing. He didn't have the patience to find Keiran any more. Unfortunately, Sirius was a fair while away from the Hospital Wing by this time. He had a bit of a walk ahead of him, but it didn't bother him. His friends would now be at the Hospital Wing, and would be making sure Remus was okay. He tried to reassure himself with that thought. He hoped to Merlin that Remus would be awake by now. If he wasn't, then Sirius had dragged the Professors out for nothing, as well as his friends. What if he'd overreacted, and Remus' head had naturally lulled in the night? Oh, shut up. He told himself, rolling his eyes. As if to punctuate his point, he hit himself on the thigh, grunting softly. He closed his eyes a moment, still walking. He knew this castle like the back of his hand, and knew a few shortcuts to get where he wanted to go. Sirius' strides were getting larger and, making use of all of the shortcuts available to him, he eventually found himself at the Hospital Wing. Surprisingly enough, all of his friends were outside, and there was no sign of the Professors around. Sirius frowned, "What's going on?"
"Sirius... You don't want to go inside." Lily said, in a fairly quiet voice. When Sirius looked across them all, he saw a mix of reactions. Marlene looked a bit... Abashed? There was certainly a dash of red on those cheeks; Emmeline looked a little sad, her face drawn downwards; Evan looked a little triumphant, smirking slightly; Kingsley was... Well, Kingsley was Kingsley, he looked calm; Lily definitely looked disappointed at something; Peter looked confused... When Sirius' eyes finally moved to James, Sirius blinked. He looked furious. Sirius looked at him.
"Prongs? What is it?" Sirius asked cautiously.
"It's..." James growled slightly. Sirius looked past him, into the Hospital Wing. Despite Lily's protests, Sirius moved slowly into the room that contained Remus. It was with a jolt, and a sinking feeling in his stomach, that Sirius saw Remus was awake; Awake, and kissing Keiran.