I quickly developed a deep hatred for the dark arts. The more we studied, the more I saw the warped minds that dwelled in the heavy, dark books. Most had been extracted from the restricted section, and more than once Madam Pince had given a notice during mealtimes, warning that anybody in possession of these books would be severely punished. That was until Malignatious stood up and announced that he had taken them for 'study' quite a while ago, and had scolded her incompetence. Madam Pince was seething when she sat back down, but didn't dare shoot him any looks for fear he'd return them with that look of malice I'd seen so fleetingly and had filled me with so much dread.

None of the other teachers appreciated the new addition to the staff either, but they understood better than the students that there was no getting rid of Malignatious legally. Not a few times McGonagall had come to 'observe' our classes with him, in which Malignatious would simply teach us from our old textbooks. Nobody could prove he was teaching dark arts.

"Why not?" Peter had protested as we contemplated the situation. In our last lesson, Malignatious had conjured up what looked like a hole in Peter's desk. When he looked down into it, a bony hand had shot up and grabbed him by the neck in an iron-tight grip. The terrified class watched as Peter's face contorted and turned purple. Sirius' face turned dark as his hand fidgeted by his wand, calculating his punishment if he dispelled the hand back to the evil depths it had come from. He knew what it was like to be on Peter's side of the spell, it was clear on his face.

What none of them had realised that the scary part was not what they were focused on, instead of the teacher behind us whose face was always so expressionless. Now, in the moment our friend began to pass out from oxygen deprivation, his face was full of pure, malignant joy.

Finally, Remus had broken the class' silence with a weak plea. "Professor..." his voice cracked, and the screen fell over Malignatious' face again. The hand disappeared and Peter rolled off his chair onto the floor, choking and coughing up blood. I made to run to him but found myself bound to the seat.

"Anyone who seeks to help him will find themselves meeting the same fate. This time I will not leave you conscious. Mr Pettigrew needed to learn about strength." Peter squealed and squirmed on the floor, standing on weak knees and sliding back into his seat with rare defiance.

Ever since then, we had all been hellbent on stopping him. But we couldn't figure out how. We were never allowed to take notes in lessons, to 'improve our poor memories', and no essays on dark arts were ever set. We had no physical evidence.

"But couldn't we tell the authorities?" Remus shook his head.

"We're minors according to wizard law, nobody will listen to our testimonies, and the seventh-years have their NEWTs soon, they can't afford to lose another teacher. Even so it's not certain any charges would stick if they did testify."

"We could video it! Like the muggles do for security!" he said excitedly, but this time Sirius corrected him.

"Muggle technology isn't admissible in any wizard court. I've tried..." He trailed off, stood and stamped his foot frustratedly. The sound of his boot slapping stone reverberated around the entire room. We all jumped, shocked, and looked up at him. Sirius' face was a turmoil of anger, frustration, fear and something else. Like... reminiscence? All of this dark magic was undoubtedly reminding him of home, and he wasn't dealing with it too well.

We shared a look as Sirius unlocked the door and slammed it on the way out. We were in the same classroom he'd pulled us into when he told us Malignatious was a Death Eater. It had become our base of operations against him since then, but every meeting had seen Sirius grow more and more depressed and sullen until he ceased to speak at all, drowning in his past. We shared a look as we heard him outside over the buzz of a strong muffliato charm, wanting to be safe.

"I'll go," I said, gaining nods from the two, who gave me a look to say that they both sent their concerns with me.

I searched everywhere for Sirius, including the library, but found him nowhere. I tried to think of where I would be if I was him, where I would hide from life when it hit me with so much force as his had done. Suddenly, I knew.

Sirius was hiding in the nook behind the tapestry where he had run to after watching Snape crucio his little brother. His arms were hugging his knees to his chest as tight as they possibly could, his forehead pressed into them and rocking slowly back and forth. He didn't notice when I drew back the tapestry to find him doubled in on himself, so I sat down next to him. He stifled his sobs, looking up at me with bleary eyes. I saw him biting his lip, trying to hold in the tears, to show me that he was still strong. Didn't he see? He didn't have to be strong with me. He didn't have to be all together all the time with us.

"Siri?" I asked tentatively, reaching a hand out to him and slowly placing it on his back. He cracked, letting out a sob, and before I knew it the wall tumbled and I was holding him to me, absorbing his sobs with brotherly protection. I cooed him like a baby, rocking him slowly back and forth, stroking his mass of black hair.

"I'm sorry..." he sobbed, "I'm... so weak... I didn't mean to... I'm sorry..."

"You don't have to be sorry," I said in between the continuous shush I hadn't even realised I was letting out, "you can be weak with me, you can be weak with me, Siri, I love you for your weakness, I love you for all of you, I love you Siri, somebody loves you, Sirius Black," The words were perfect, they were what he had waited his whole life to hear. Sirius Black was a boy without family or love, all he wanted was what he didn't have. I knew that those words could get him to look at me, finally, and wipe the tears from his face.

"Love doesn't exist," he said bitterly, wiping his nose inelegantly with the back of his hand. I frowned at him.

"Yes it does, Siri, of course it does,"

"No it doesn't!" he spat with that anger I so hated, "If it did then they'd..." he trailed off. I knew what he was thinking of, his parents. Suddenly, an unwanted Christmas memory flashed through my mind.

I love Regulus.

Sirius hiccoughed a little and began to cry again, reality all to much for him to bear. He had told himself that love didn't- couldn't- exist. But now he knew it did, and that it always had.

"My parents don't love me." he said in a voice that full of stark understanding mingled with salt. "My parent's don't love me," he repeated, his voice growing frantic, "love exists and my parents don't love me..."

"Siri, I..."

"I knew it." he interrupted me, "I've known it all my life. When I didn't conform, when I wasn't like them, they grew to hate me. I tried to... get away..." he gulped, "I tried the video camera thing, taped my father doing- horrible- things..." his face was pale as before his eyes past horrors replayed themselves, the memories so dark and heavy in the air they were almost tangible. I wanted immediately to beat them away, to pierce them with light.

"Siri, look at me!" I ordered him, and slowly he tore himself away from the depths of whatever had stolen him to look at me with broken silver eyes that didn't glitter like they so often did. They looked grey now, drab and sad.

"I love you, Sirius Black," he opened his mouth to protest but I shook my head with a ferocity that startled even me and pulled him to me like a child. He tried to wrestle me at first before giving in, allowing himself to clutch my back in that juvenile innocence as I cooed him again. "I love you, Sirius Black, somebody loves you, Sirius Black."

"I love you, James Potter. I love you too, James Potter. Love exists because I love you too, James Potter." With those words Sirius began to heal, and in a few days he was himself again. He no longer went off into strops and scowled, he no longer sank into depressions in Dark Arts, instead his eyes regained their glitter and defiance became his number one priority. He began to use non-verbals in class to counter Malignatious' cruel punishments. Given, they were weaker than it would have been if he said it aloud, but the feeling he put behind them was enough.

Soon enough we began to join in his crusade. Sirius and I got very good at nonverbal spells, and even Peter improved. In our times in the empty classroom we would teach Remus to do the same. He picked it up as quickly as Sirius and I had, and together we would slowly taunt Malignatious.

"What are you doing?" Kaise asked as I came out of class, and I frowned at her.

"What do you mean?" I asked innocently, pecking her on the cheek. She wiped it off, not in any mood for games.

"I'm talking about Malignatious, what are you doing to him? He's gotten irritable lately, he's cracking. It's got to be you." She seemed almightily pleased, but nonetheless annoyed that I hadn't included. I sighed, thinking of all the things I had been holding back from her. If I lied to her again, she'd begin chasing the lies and they would unravel quickly. Soon she'd know the full extent of my trickery, and if she found out about me becoming an animagus, she might find out why...

"We're countering his curses," I said simply.

Kaise's eyes widened, "How? James, that's serious magic he's doing, it takes a really powerful wizard to counter it..."

"Or an average wizard with a powerful cause. You've just got to put feeling into it," I explained, thinking for a moment of Bellatrix screaming the same words. She knew what she was talking about though, maybe the best way to counter darkness was with darkness itself.

"Do you think I could..." she asked meekly. I winced a little.

"I don't know, if he catches you..." I felt a genuine concern for Kaise, a stirring at the thought of her being punished. I placed an arm on her to comfort myself more than her, "I don't want anything happening to you," I said sincerely. She blushed, and then her eyes alighted.

"Teach me!" she insisted. I frowned.

"What?" I asked, unsure I'd heard her correctly.

"Teach me and we could work together, I could do it with you, we could both drive him out!" her tone grew excited and shrill. In the common room, a pair of annoyed fifth years turned around to shush us but she just stuck her tongue out at them.

"Maybe," I said, frowning. It would have its upsides. With enough people irritating Malignatious, maybe he'd crack, do something wrong and be fired. "You know what? Yes."

A/N: The profession of love is not romantic, I'm not sure I didn't go overboard but Sirius needed to hear it when faced with the evil incarnate of my imagination, Malignatious. Sirius needs love, as much as he resents it, now he knows he has it, so I stand by my words.

Do review!