When we Were the New Boys Chapter 2

Rose G

Dedicated to Mel, a friend as good to me as Remus to Sirius. Happy birthday, mate.

Remus paced slowly around the Gryffindor common room, making an effort to shut his wolf sharp ears to the sound of Sirius' dream. He'd heard Sirius crying out in the night, something about shadows, and pain and being hungry, but Dumbledore had told him yesterday that Sirius was exhausted, almost ill and not to wake him. I wish I could help him, that he'd let me speak to him. He never used to be like this. He's changed so much. Is it Azkaban, or something else? Suddenly, he dropped to his knees, one scarred hand clutching the silver cross around his neck. Very few wizards were religious, but his Muggle father had been and the unwavering strength of his faith had often comforted Remus during the full moon.

'Oh Father in your infinite mercy, may you grant Sirius the strength to carry on his tasks and the courage to cope with his past. Amen.'

'Very touching, Remus.' The voice was very gentle, not mocking but warm.

He started violently, only to see Albus Dumbledore looking at him. 'The conference is scheduled to start in an hour - I came to see if Sirius is all right. No spell can force those who have survived Azkaban to carry on and the horrors in Sirius' past affect him more because he has spent so long on his own. And as I noticed yesterday, he is ill from exhaustion and grief.'

'And you still insist there is nothing we can do for him?'

'No because it is an illness of the mind and there are no spells that can counter that. I believe the Muggles have devised some cures, but who amongst them would be persuaded to treat a man they still believe a murderer? Not many, and Sirius has ever been wary of Muggles.'

There was a long silence then, Remus musing, with a dull flush still colouring his face and Dumbledore absent-mindedly polishing his wand. How I hate this - having to lead this conference and forcing Sirius to carry on. Those released from Azkaban have never been the same.

It was broken by Sirius stumbling downstairs, wearing Muggle clothing that hung from his gaunt frame. The long hair and deadened eyes gave him the look of a re-animated corpse, and the scars that littered his arms told Dumbledore a story beyond that of imprisonment. His wand, still not repaired properly since it had been splintered in the Shrieking Shack, was clutched awkwardly in one trembling hand.

'Moony. Headmaster. Is there anything wrong?' Useless idiot. Of course there's something wrong - Voldemort's back. 'Apart from Voldemort.'

'Don't worry, Sirius. Everyone else is here, but I saw no point in waking you. We can wait while you have breakfast, if you wish. Remus said that you had a bad night.'

Sirius shoot Remus a glance of pure loathing. How dare he - friend or not. How long ago did we pledge never to betray any of the others, to take death over that? Mind that was before Peter... 'It was Azkaban. I thought I was back there…The Dementors…' He walked over to one of the armchairs by the fire and collapsed into it, burying his face in his hands, willing Dumbledore to leave him alone.

'And what was it that made Azkaban so terrible, Sirius?'

'Th-the blackness. No light. Dementors everywhere, near me, hurting me. They hurt, Dumbledore, even though they say they don't touch you. They do, God they do.' His breath was coming in short gasps, his voice shook. 'Two years later, an' I might as well have never left there. They don't want me to get free.'

Dumbledore gritted his teeth. He'd done this before, many times, most recently to Harry after he had seen Voldemort's rebirth, and it never stopped hurting. He loathed having to inflict pain on them by making them relive their memories and he wasn't even sure that it would help Sirius. 'They hurt?'

'They drive you to it, hurting yourself. You can't kill yourself in there…Else I wouldn't have come out. No one in there will help you. Darkness…so dark…You're alone, so alone - I could have coped if it wasn't for being on my own. Only pain…No-one to hear you scream. There's blood in your mouth, you see shadows, see them getting nearer, and it hurts. Stone cuts; everything in there's stone. Makes you bleed, and they come - they like blood. Nothing to mend cuts - no wands, so there's blood eveywhere.'

Padfoot…Oh, Sirius…How did you survive with that? Remus moved foward to comfort Sirius but was stayed by Dumbledore. 'Carry on, Sirius.' Sirius shook his head weakly. There were no tears today; his grief and remembered terror were beyond any expression. How could I tell Dumbledore and Moony about what it was like? About laying in my own filth, about stealing food from straving men to keep myself alive, about crying for my friends? Hell, how can I tell them that I cried? And suddenly, Remus was there, ignoring Dumbledore, holding a bottle of Butterbeer for Sirius to drink from.

The warm liquid gave him some new strength; enough so that he could look up at Dumbledore with enough energy to defy him. 'I cannot, and I will not. Some of the things that happened were personal, others I do not even wish to think about. Maybe, some day but not before then.'

Dumbledore's soft voice cut through his private hell. 'Okay, Sirius. I have to respect that. You have driven yourself too hard, and you've made youself ill. You done more than I could expect, and have earned your right to a rest. And yet, I must ask you to attend the conferance. McGonagall's office, if you don't mind.' And with that he swept away. Sirius…the Marauders…they were never like that…What with his motorbike and James's stunt flying…Only ever had to look in the hospital wing for them…They were never afriad. How did it happen to the Marauders?

Together, the two, the werewolf and murderer walked down the corridor, puasing only when Peeves appeared in front of them. For a moment, Remus rocked on the balls of his feet wand in front of him, an evil grin flickering across his face like the boy who had lived here and loved here a decade and a half ago. 'Phamtomis Petrificus!' Peeves froze, his hand still clutching the water bomb he had been planning to throw. 'Wingardium Leviosa!' Gesturing with his wand, he rose Peeves up into the air above the main entance hall and left him there. Sirius' face did not show a trace of a grin; no sign that he remebered the time the Marauders had immobilised the Bloody Baron and left him dangling above the astromy tower where so many of their greatest pranks had taken place.

Lily would have laughed. Lily was like one of us. How James ended up marying her, I don't know. I loved Lily like she was one of the Marauders. The only girl who didn't flinch fom what I was. The only girl I ever wanted to marry… Remus stopped that line of thought before he revealed anything to Sirius. It had been the one secet he kept fom the Marauders'; his love of Lily, his habit of watching her sleep over her schoolbooks in the common room, coverting her in secret.

Sirius walked in silence, his mind caught in memories. What happened to forever? What happened to our pledge? He paused in horror at the door to the office. The last time I was here, she gave me a detention for having the motorbike in my dorm to clean it before I took that Ravenclaw girl out. It wasn't that which paused his steps. Twenty or so people sitting around the table from the Great Hall, lit by candles and a roaring fire.

Remus, Mundungus Fletcher, loads of Weasly boys, Arabella Figg, the staff. A few ministry figures, I guess. Are they the Hogwarts seventh years there? And Hagid and that giant woman. Karkaroff, of all the people. And Krum. What is he doing here? But it wasn't them who confused the pair. Snape his black eyes glinting was sweeping down on thm, one hand outsteched in greeting. Amitdly, Dumbledore was glaring at him, but … he was welcoming the remaining Marauders. Remus shook his hand, but Sirius refused.

He should be in Azkaban. I shouldn't hve been. I'll never forgive that. His master killed the Marauders, Harry's parents, everyone. I will not forgive him. Clenching his jaw, Sirius walked over to his seat. For now, he would be the Sirius they remembered, the man who would die before surrending. Only Sirius would now that he had already betrayed some of them. They will never know that.

How can you know the pain?
How can you know the feeling?
How can you say you understand
When my mind is reeling?

How do you know what I went through?
How can you say it'll be fine?
How can you know that I broke down and cried
In all those solitary times.

How can you now try to help me?
How can you say that you care?
How can you know that deep in my heart
There is nothing but pain and despair?

How can you even look at me?
How could you know what I've done?
How could you live with the knowledge

That I gave them information?


How can you need me?
Why can't you leave me alone?
Can't you see the pain I will cause
Because of what I've done?

How will you know I've hurt you?
How will you know the pain?
I sold out all those close to me
To save me going insane.

Can you know the pain I'm going through?
Can you feel what's here in my heart?
I have nothing at all now
My soul has been ripped apart.

Don't lie when you say you need me.
I can see it in your eyes.
You don't trust me anymore,
I give you nothing more than lies.

~~~Words I Cannot Say, Sirius Black~~~

A/N - This poem isn't much to do with the story, but it sort of fitted in. Somehow, I see Sirius being a bit of a writer. Review, let me know what you think, make suggestions, anything. Flames will be used to cheer Sirius up - he's going to need it in the next chapter.