God, you must all hate me. My profuse apologies for the slug-like speed in which I'm updating… I'm indulging in a decadently slow two weeks. So blame the Easter holiday, anyways… thanks to new readers – Merit Somnia, and AffectedMangoO – and to old alike, who are especially loyal and devoted. I thank you and pray that any chocolate you eat will never go onto your hips. Thanks!

Nel mezzo del commin di nostra vita,

Mi ritrovai per una selva oscura,

Ché laritta via era smarrita."

Paradiso (Canto 1, 1-3) Dante Alighieri

They staggered home in the fading light of the summer night, laughing and talking loudly to the silent hedgerows and waving dog roses.

With a messy kiss they separated and both went to their own beds, giddy with the warmth of alcohol. Harry fell straight asleep, his young body unaccustomed to the effects of the drink.

Remus lay on the uncomfortable sofa, too drunk to even try to transfigure it into a proper bed. Slowly the wave of merriness passed, leaving him sombre in his intoxication.

He stared up at the ceiling, trying to find an answer in the whitewash. But he found none, only mocking silence that rang in his ears and drove him half-mad with agitation.

Getting to his feet, he thrust his hands into his pockets and wandered about the room. He had the uncanny feeling that something was going to happen.

He walked to the door, opening it so that the cool night breeze entered the room. It was vaguely refreshing but after a while it began to chill him so he closed it once more.

Remus turned, seeing the half-moon out of the corner of his eyes, and then there was sharp tapping sound on the window. Hissing for the bird to be quiet, he dashed towards it and let the owl in.

Ruffling its wings indignantly, the bird allowed the note to be removed form its leg before flapping off in a hurry of feathers.

Dear Remus,

You have always been my best friend, along with James. But now, it does not seem that even you can help me in my problem. I know you have tried to give me what solace you can in friendship, however I desire more and you will not give this to me.

I hope that Harry will be as good a lover to you, as I would have. I would have been the greatest lover the world would have known. I would have treated you as though you were made out of the finest glass.

Maybe fate was not meant to take us that way anyway, although I have never been one to remain bound to fate's hold.

My time on earth has been sorrowful, in death I hope to finally attain peace, away from my insanities and demons.

"In the middle of the journey of our life,

I found myself astray in a dark wood

Where the right road has been lost sight of."

X

Sirius. (Padfoot is dead.)

Remus scrunched the paper up in a sudden shout of anger. He pulled his wand from his pocket and Apparated.

~

"Goodbye cruel world." Sirius closed his eyes, screwing them up until all he could see was bright flashing splodges, drowning in oily blackness.

He gently tugged at the rope above his head to make sure that the light fitting it was attached to, wouldn't collapse beneath his weight. Satisfied he repeated his words in a nervous little whisper before stepping off the table.

"Ever the one for clichés," Remus muttered grimly, shaking off the faint dizziness of Apparating, to charge forward and grasp Sirius by his knees.

His feet, dangling only a couple of feet above the ground wriggled and Sirius made a hacking sound.

"Stand on the table!" Remus cried into the jean material of Sirius' legs. He stumbled backwards, banging the back of the wizard's knees into the table.

With a stifled curse Sirius scrabbled around for a foothold before somehow ending up knelt on the table.

The rope drooped down and Remus waved his wand, slicing it into two pathetic little pieces. "You pathetic, pathetic little man!" the werewolf shouted, feeling his patience not so subtly fading away.

Sirius massaged his neck and gazed mournfully down at his friend. "You came to save me?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with sudden hero-worship.

Remus scowled, spinning around to fold his arms across his chest. "I didn't come to save you, Sirius Black can rot in hell for all I care. I did it for Harry- no matter what you do- the boy loves you. If you die then he probably will shortly after.

YOU INSENSITIVE BASTARD!"

The lycanthrope took a deep breath, surprised in spite of himself at the burst of anger. He could only remember two occasions when he had truly lost his cool, and this had been one of them. "Pull yourself together, Black," he spat.

"Moony, I love you," Sirius murmured. "You know I do… why won't you admit that you love me too?"

"Because I don't!" Lupin sighed as he saw tears starting to form in Sirius' eyes. "I'm sorry for all that ever happened- truly I am… Voldemort, Lily and James, Azkaban, Peter. I'm sorry. But shagging me senseless every night under the pretence that you love me, won't help it."

"It might," a glimmer of the former Sirius was back as he sat cross-legged with a surly expression on his face. "It might help you get over your stupid infatuation with a seventeen-year-old!"

Remus stepped back, shocked by the biting comment. "Harry has already done more for me, then you ever have in the past twenty-odd years."

"Well it was slightly hard for me, wasn't it?" Sirius spat back. "Azkaban isn't the most convenient of places at the best of times. And it's hard to comfort a man who hides away at the first sign of things getting nasty."

"I ran away because I knew I wasn't welcome! You had already branded me the Death Eater. There was no use in trying to persuade you otherwise."

"You could have told us, Moony. You could have told us where you went in secret every night, but no, you had to remain as dammed closed up then as you are now! But no, you had to remain as damn secretive as you could." Sirius thumped his fist down onto the table, his face pale and sickly in the moonlight.

"I was trying to earn my measly keep, not that any of you would understand." Remus felt tears pricking in the corner of his eyes, but he didn't care. They were both beyond trying to keep any dignity as they roared at each other, trying to place blame.

"We offered you money plenty of time."

"I'd prefer to have some self-respect, thank you."

"Well what was so awful about the place that you worked at, that you couldn't tell us about"- Sirius gasped in realisation. "It wasn't a brothel was it?"

Remus flushed hot pink. "Definitely not." It wasn't far off; it was a seedy club that had a brothel underground. He had worked strictly in the club, blushing every time a drunken patron groped him.

"That's beside the point, anyway," he growled. "You," he stabbed his finger into Sirius' chest to reinforce the point. "Stop drinking, grow up and maybe at the end of it all, you might have a godson to return to. But at this rate you won't at all."

The werewolf's lip curled and he left the cottage after a swift spell that set the rope around Sirius' neck, alight. The man slumped further onto the table, ignorant of the burning pain as a result of the drunken haze.

~

He stumbled into the house as if it was he who had just consumed several bottles of alcohol, enough to blind an unseasoned drinker. He flung his wand onto the messy sofa as if disgusted with magic.

It was all so unfair. One swish of the little piece of wood could kill someone; render you paralysed, blind, deaf or with any medical complaint that you wished. Why then, couldn't it alleviate pain?

Remus heard himself snorting softly at his thoughts. Magic could alleviate pain- but only physical. Rarely mental.

All magic could do to mend the anguish of a tortured soul, was to send into a numbed sense of ignorance. Perhaps that was what he wanted. He could while away the rest of his meaningless days in a padded cell, clutching to the pleasant dreams that the doctors prescribed him.

That sounded so much better than the turmoil Remus found himself in now.

With a pathetic little hiccup, he wandered from room to room, uncertain what to do with himself. Finally he met a closed door and with shaking hands he opened it.

The relative lightness of the summer night filled the bedroom. Remus could see with his enhanced vision, Harry's calm face, as he lay, oblivious to all that had happened.

If only that was the way that everyone could be. Childlike- uninformed until a kindly adult told them of the situation. Truly, ignorance is bliss.

 

He wanted to break down so much. To roll himself in a ball, rocking back and forth, sobbing until morning rose with its comforting glow. Like a child frightened of the darkness, screwing their eyes up so that they wouldn't see the demons that stalked them.

But he couldn't. He knew he couldn't. Now he had to be strong, for Harry's sake.

Gently he shook the boy awake. Smoothing back the black strands of hair he stared into the emerald eyes. "Harry, I've something to tell you."

He watched as the wizard's lower lip trembled before he swallowed. "What is it, Remus?" Harry asked, gripping the older man's hand tightly.

"I managed to get there before it happened and stop it- but Sirius tried to commit suicide tonight."

All the rosiness disappeared from his cheeks and his lips parted as if he was struggling for words. None came. Harry flung his arms around Remus' waist, burying his head into the man's chest.

They sat in silence for a while, Remus curling himself against Harry, his head bent down to the youth's shoulder and his arms wrapped around him. Gently they rocked back and forth before there was a great gasp of pain and he wept.

Harry cried; the mournful sound muffled by Remus' clothes. He inhaled, great, thirsty breaths as he did so. Shuddering and sniffling he finally calmed and pulled away from the embrace.

"Oh, Remus," he murmured, his voice still thick with emotion. Harry reached up a hand to cup the lycanthrope's jaw and with his thumb he stroked a pale cheek. "You're so brave."

Then Harry pulled them both down onto the pillows, two hands still clutching at each other. "Sleep, you look terrible." He slid one arm around his former-Professor's slender hips and the other he rested in his hair.

Remus drifted off and when dark dreams haunted his slumber, Harry placed a kiss on the man's forehead, hoping that it would soothe them. It did not do much to stop the encroaching darkness from his mind, but the tenderness was exquisite.