Breaking with old friends is one of the most painful of the changes
in all that piling up of a multitude of small distasteful changes that
constitutes growing older.
(John Dos Passos)
SIRIUS:
Sirius had never meant to break his promise to Remus. It was something he felt completely helpless against; as if he were sliding down a vertical, slim-coated tunnel. He tried to get a grip - to keep himself from falling, to attempt to claw his way back up into sunlight – but the walls were too slippery and he just kept going down.
There was a room he had discovered on the seventh floor, opposite a tapestry of someone called Barnabas the Barmy who appeared to be teaching trolls to ballet-dance. He was sure it hadn't been there before, and it wasn't on the Maruader's map. He had found it one evening when he couldn't stand the rowdy, cheerful chatter of the common room anymore and had escaped, searching for somewhere where he could sit and think without being disturbed by his classmates or the shadows.
It was the strangest room he had ever seen, and he wondered whether it only appeared to those who were desperate for some peace, running and afraid of the creeping shadows. It was medium-sized and completely empty of furniture except for four, giant red and gold beanbags which were clustered together in the middle of the room. They made no shadows at all, because the walls and the high ceiling were made of the palest stone Sirius had ever seen, and actually seemed to glow with light. Floating candles – like those in the Great Hall – hovered everywhere. Along every wall, across the ceiling, floating gently through the air in-between. The room was a sanctuary of light that chased away every shadow.
When Sirius lay on the Gryffindor-coloured beanbags, he felt himself relaxing properly for the first time since the summer holidays. He could close his eyes and not be afraid of any dark shadow-demons creeping up on him. Lying there, cushioned by red and gold silk, he felt like a Gryffindor again.
He knew he should tell the others about the room, but some deep, desperate, selfish part of him wanted - needed - somewhere to retreat to. Somewhere without the concerned looks, and careful handling, and pretending that everything was alright again even when it clearly wasn't. Somewhere where the other Marauders weren't always there waiting, waiting, waiting for the moment when he would snap.
He couldn't blame them. As soon as he left the room, his irrational fears flooded back full-force, along with the desperate longing for the oblivion of alcohol. He had resisted that longing though – resisted it until one day he became hungry alone in his secret room and crept down to the kitchen to get some food off the elves.
It was Dumbledore's fault, Sirius told himself later, as he stumbled back up to the tower long after curfew. It was Dumbledore's fault for having special guests visiting, and ordering a posh dinner that involved cooking sherry. If Sirius hadn't seen the house elves cooking away at the stoves in the kitchen - tipping the sherry into the pan and filling the air with the spicy scent of alcohol – he would never have broken his promise.
And it was the elves' fault as well, because they always gave him whatever he asked for to eat or drink.
But as he sneaked into the dorm and glanced guiltily over to Remus's bed, where the other boy was curled up in in his habitual wolf-like ball by his pillows only just visible through his half-open curtains, he knew it was his own fault. He had broken his promise and he hated himself for it.
The dreams came as soon as he crawled into bed and closed his eyes. Dreams of vanishing light and black, scuttling shadows with creeping tentacles and fronds of darkness that crept closer and threatened to fill his blood with darkness.
Then Remus was there, murmuring something about broken promises and struggling to get away, but all Sirius could do was clutch him closer because Remus was strong and light and kept away the shadows and Sirius needed him. And Remus gave in and crawled in beside Sirius, curling around him and huffing soft reassurances into his ears as Sirius drifted back to sleep.
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Just as Sirius knew with absolute certainty at night time, that the shadow-monsters existed and wanted to leach his light from him, in the day time, he was absolutely certain that he was completely insane and paranoid. He knew for a fact that the shadows were just that – shadows. There were an absence of light that had nothing to do with dark magic, or demons.
Every time he thought about his night-time fears, he felt himself squirm inside with acute embarrassment – especially when he was around Remus. Remus saw him at his worst. Remus saw him drunk and whimpering and terrified. Sirius was furious with himself for constantly breaking his promise to the werewolf, and for allowing his fears to overtake him.
Eventually, he came to the conclusion that the person he was at night had nothing to do with who he really was. That scared, half-crazy creature was another being – one who disgusted Sirius and made him angry and ashamed. He refused to discuss shadow-scared-Sirius during the day, or even to acknowledge his existence. Remus had given up on trying to bring up the subject after Sirius disappeared for a whole day the last time he tried.
Unless Sirius was mistaken, Remus seemed to be just as happy to keep his two personas separate. During the day, Remus treated him as he always had – kissing him, berating him, trying to make him do his homework, plotting new pranks, putting on an expression of good-natured suffering when James and Sirius teased him about being a bookworm.
And yet Sirius couldn't help but notice that Remus's smile wasn't quite as wide as it had been, and that he almost never grinned anymore, let alone laughed. His shoulders seemed hunched in a way that they hadn't been since he and Sirius had been together, and although he said nothing, Sirius knew that it was all his own fault, and the guilt gnawed at him like a constant ache in his belly.
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It was two weeks into October; early evening, so daytime-Sirius still had the helm. James and Sirius were seated together on the sofa in front of the common room fire, while a furious Lily Evans towered over them.
"You are a couple of irresponsible, arrogant, dull-witted idiots!" she raged, her temper in full flow. "I don't know what you were thinking! Were you even thinking? I have a good mind to report you to Dumbledore!" She had been yelling at them in the same vein for the past twenty minutes, and had become so worked up, that she hadn't even noticed that the two boys weren't paying her words the slightest bit of attention anymore.
James was seated beside Sirius, staring up at Lily with an expression of glazed awe on his face as he took in her flushed cheeks, blazing green eyes and temper-ruffled hair. His mouth was half-open and Sirius hoped he wasn't going to start drooling any time soon.
Sirius had tuned out her lecture much in the same way as he tuned out Professor McGonagall's and was currently plotting his escape. He felt his face light up when the portrait opened and he spotted Remus climbing through burdened by an armful of books.
"Moony!" he called, interrupting Lily's tirade with relief. "Come rescue us."
Lily broke off and swung around to face Remus. "You!" she snapped.
Remus looked rather alarmed and took a step back. "Me? What did I do?" he cast a suspicious glance at James and Sirius.
"You are a prefect! It is your duty to do a better job of keeping your thick-headed friends under control."
Remus's face took on the hunted look he got every time he was reminded of his perfecting duty after another of James's and Sirius's hair-brained schemes. He had been rather horrified when the badge came with his letter that summer. "I don't control them, Lily. The best I can do is hang on grimly, close my eyes, and go along with the ride."
"Well, you should at least try!"
"Why? What have they done this time?" Remus put his books down on the low coffee table in front of the sofa and assumed his best 'Stern Prefect Moony' face. It didn't work on Sirius who just found it hot.
"We didn't do anything wrong, Moony!" James whined. "We were educating the younger years."
"You what?" Remus shot Lily a confused look.
"I found them," she said, "giving 'sex education' lessons in one of the empty classrooms to a number of first and second years from all the Houses."
"You WHAT?" Remus turned an interesting shade of puce and gaped at James and Sirius.
"We thought it was about time something useful got taught at Hogwarts," Sirius defended himself, giving Remus his best puppy-dog eyes. He wondered if they would get more appealing once he'd properly mastered his animagus form.
"Sex education?" Remus squeaked. "What were you thinking?"
"It was a really good class," James told him. "We had lesson plans and everything."
"And sock puppets," Sirius put in. "For visual aid. I don't see what's so bad about it."
Lily gave a loud groan and tugged at her hair in frustration. Sirius tried not to notice how James went scarlet in response and shifted in his seat. "It's just so wrong, Black," Lily said, scowling at him.
"But why?" Sirius asked.
"Well, putting aside the moral implications for a while, there is now a large portion of the first and second year population who have been left with the impression that sex involves humping your best friend's arm while dressed as a sock!"
"We were just doing our bit in the effort to reduce teenage pregnancy."
There was an odd kind of choking, spluttering sound from Remus's direction, and the others turned to look at him in alarm.
"Are you okay, Moony?" Sirius was worried. The werewolf had gone an even more impressive shade of scarlet than James. His hands were in front of his mouth, and he appeared to be choking on his own tongue.
Their concerned expressions seemed to be too much for him, because Remus's self-control seemed to break down completely, and he exploded into a fit of hysterical, boyish giggles that caused his whole body to shake. He leaned against Lily's shoulder for support, and Sirius could just make out the words 'sock' and 'humping'.
Sirius found that he couldn't tear his eyes away. Remus's shoulders shook with laughter, his eyes streamed, and his mouth was half-open, so Sirius could just see a flash of white teeth and pink tongue.
It had been such a long time since Sirius had seen Remus laugh like this that he was completely mesmerised by the sight. It was as though the stress of the past weeks was dissolving into laughter and pouring in streams from Remus's mouth.
"Remus stop it!" Lily ordered. "It's not funny!"
"Yeah, get a grip, mate," James put in. "Otherwise I think Padfoot might jump you right here in the common room."
Remus took a few gulps of air in an effort to calm himself. "Well," he gasped. "He's not dressed as a sock, so I don't reckon I have much to worry about."
"I've got a sock costume upstairs if you want to join me," Sirius said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
There was a gagging sound from the portrait hole and the others turned to look at Peter who had just come from the kitchens judging by his armful of angel-cakes. "I do not even want to know what circumstances led to Moony finding Sirius-in-a-sock-costume sexually arousing," he said. "So please don't tell me. Angel-cake anyone?"
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"Is she gone?" Sirius hissed to Peter, peering through the thin fabric of the invisibility cloak at his friend. Sirius and James had taken to avoiding Lily in the few days following 'Operation Sexy Sock Puppet', because whenever she spotted one of them, she would launch once more into her irresponsibility lecture. She was trying to persuade them to turn themselves in to Professor McGonagall as it would prove that they 'were sorry and regretted their actions'. Since Sirius or James were neither sorry or regretful, she wasn't having much success. Even James had tired of her constant nagging – and his desire to escape it now outweighed his desire to stare at her.
The two dark-haired Marauders had taken to carrying the invisibility cloak with them whenever they left the safety of their dorm.
It was now Saturday and Sirius and Peter had abandoned James and Remus who were having a heated debate about the intricacies of the transfiguration spell they used to turn Professor Flitwick's shoes into stilts over lunch. They were on their way from the Great Hall to the common room when they spotted Lily in the library corridor.
Sirius immediately ducked back around the corner and tugged the invisibility cloak out from where it had been stored, shrunken, in his pocket.
"She's standing outside the library talking to Snivellus," Peter said, in answer to his question.
"What? Why would she be talking to Snivellus. Is he being mean to her?" Sirius peered over Peter's shoulder. "She's not there."
"They just went into the library. It looked like they were arguing."
Sirius frowned. Much as he disliked Lily's lecturing, he was quite fond of the girl herself. After all – if it hadn't been for her, he would never have admitted his feelings for Remus.
"Let's go and see if she needs rescuing," he said. "Come – get under the cloak with me."
They shuffled awkwardly to the library. Sirius – who was nearing six foot – was too tall, and Peter was too chubby for them to fit as easily together under the cloak as they used to. Sirius had to walk along with his knees bent so their feet didn't show.
They entered the library just in time to catch a glimpse of red hair disappearing behind the bookshelves at the back of the library, and hurried in that direction.
"I'm tired of you always nagging me about it!" Snape was saying as Sirius and Peter approached. "I don't see why I should listen to you when your little Gryffindor friends are just as bad!"
"There's nothing wrong with Rebecca and Alice," Lily replied hotly.
"I wasn't talking about them," Snape said, a sneer in his voice. "I was talking about those boys. Black and Potter and the two hangers-on."
"I'm not friends with Black and Potter!" Sirius and Peter snuck round the bookcase in time to catch her scowl. "But there's nothing wrong with Remus. He's nice."
Snape snorted in disgust.
"Besides," Lily continued, "we weren't talking about them. We were talking about you and how you've taken hanging round with that revolting Rosier and Nott and the rest of them. Everyone knows they're into into the Dark Arts, you know. And there's rumours going round that they plan to join Voldemort when they get out of school."
Sirius and Peter exchanged confused glances. They couldn't understand why Lily and Snape were having a conversation that sounded as though it was a squabble among friends, rather that a fight between enemies.
"You were the one that told me to try and make friends in my own house," Snape said. "It was your idea to keep the fact we're friends quiet."
"I was trying to make life easier for you, Severus! They would have bullied you if they knew you were friends with a Gryffindor Muggleborn witch. But I wanted you to make nice friends. There are some good people in Slytherin."
"You have no right to tell me who to make friends with."
Lily sighed, the fight seeming to go out of her. "I'm just worried about you," she said, putting her hand on Snape's bony shoulder. "I don't want you to fall in with the wrong crowd and get in over your head."
Snape glanced down at her hand, then looked away. There was a pained expression on his face, and a faint flush on his prominent cheekbones. Sirius felt like gagging when he realised he had seen a similar expression on James's face when he spoke about Lily. Did the greasy git fancy her, too?
"I know what I'm doing, Lily," he said, and the gentle tone he used didn't really fit with his voice at all. "I'll be careful."
Lily smiled at him. "Make sure that you do. I wouldn't want to lose your friendship after all these years." She grinned suddenly and pulled herself up onto a desk, planting her feet on the chair. "Now, I need your advice on something."
Snape's face took on a slightly wary expression. "I'm not great at advice. You know that. Can I interest you in a sarcastic comment instead?"
Lily laughed and Sirius bent over and mimed vomiting, accidentally elbowing Peter's generous stomach in the process.
"It's okay – it's about that potions assignment we have," Lily said. "I was wondering if you could suggest any for me to choose?"
"Let's go," Sirius whispered in Peter's ear, as Snape's face lit up and he launched into a lecture on fifth-year potions. "I might actually puke if I watch any more."
They exited the library in silence, checked the coast was clear, then pulled off the invisibility cloak.
"Well," Peter said, as they headed up to the Gryffindor Tower. "That was weird."
"Weird is not the word," said Sirius, anger and disgust churning in his belly at the thought of pretty Lily Evan – James's Lily Evans – being friends with Snivellus of all people. How dare he? How could a greasy git like Snape succeed where a good person like James had failed? "More like 'wrong' or 'disturbing' or 'nauseating'."
"What do you think we should do?" Peter asked, glancing sideways and blinking worriedly at Sirius. "You reckon we should tell Prongs?"
Sirius hesitated. "I don't want to, but I think we should. He'd want to know. We might want to tell him from a distance, though, in case he explodes."
"I thought you were going to explode," Peter said. "And you elbowed me in my podge. I think I've got a bruise."
"Sorry, Wormtail. I was overcome by retches when Snivellus made a joke."
Peter sniggered. "It was quite funny."
Sirius looked at him and Peter backed away, his hands raised protectively. "Joking! Joking!"
"You're such a wet blanket, Pete."
"Sorry."
"It's okay. You're our wet blanket. A Marauderish wet blanket. Probably red with snitches on."
"Er…thanks. I think."
"Anytime." Sirius waved his hand airily and continued to stride down the corridor.
Peter hurried to follow him.
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"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Sirius whispered that night, as he clung to Remus and shook. He hadn't had a chance to go down to the kitchen to drink that evening and his mind was working at a million miles an hour to form images of the shadow-demons that lurked beyond the safety of his wand-lit bed.
"It's okay. I'm here. It's okay." Remus ran gentle, blunt-nailed fingers through Sirius's damp hair and the warm pressure on his scalp eased Sirius a bit. He dipped his head and pressed it into the hollow of Remus's neck, kissing the warm skin that met his lips and feeling Remus shudder in response. Remus's fingers pulled out of his hair and traced down Sirius's spine as he moved to embrace Sirius more fully.
Sirius could tell Remus was hoping for more, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. His heart was still hammering in fear, and the images were still forming in the back of his mind. "Sorry, sorry," he whispered again, this time apologising for his inaction.
Remus gave a sad little sigh and withdrew a bit. Sirius felt the brief brush of the other boy's arousal against his leg as Remus shifted away, and felt guilty for unintentionally leading him on, even as the small part of him that was not currently fully engaged with his night-time terrors rejoiced in the fact that he had caused that reaction on the normally-reserved boy.
"It's okay," Remus repeated again, his disappointment not showing in his voice. "Just sleep. I'll watch the shadows for you."
