Disclaimer: For the disclaimer, warnings, etc., please see the first chapter.

Black

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Chapter 7 - The Next One

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Remus whistled happily as he walked home from school that day. He had ended up having a better day than he had expected; O'Shea had spent a long time glaring at him during morning break and lunch; but he didn't seem eager to approach Remus when Remus was with his friends. Lily and Grace hadn't stopped grilling him over Sirius since that morning; notes had fairly flown across the classroom that day. Remus supposed it was a good thing he lived on the other side of town as his friends; if they lived nearby the girls would have had him playing Twenty Questions all the way home. He couldn't help but smile to himself as he walked - both girls had been so disappointed when Remus couldn't tell them the answers to the questions they asked.

But his smile died abruptly. The whole truth was, he didn't know a single thing about Sirius. Well - he knew a few things, but on the whole, he was totally clueless about the lover he had taken. He didn't know anything about Sirius' family or his past; didn't know what he liked or what he hated. Sirius was a large mystery still, and Remus was becoming frustrated about not knowing the answers.

He sank onto a bench outside a dress shop and bit his lip. Why wouldn't Sirius let him meet his family? Why wouldn't he open up more, and tell Remus about himself? Not knowing was driving the poor boy crazy. He wondered, once again, if perhaps Sirius didn't trust him enough to tell him anything. Despite everything Sirius had told him the day before, doubt still nibbled at him. He wanted to know everything there was to know about Sirius.

A headline from the newspaper box nearby caught his eye and cut off his train of thought. He put some change in the box and pulled out a paper. The headline read: Williams Boy's Death Possibly A Suicide?

Remus read the article, gnawing on his bottom lip the entire time. The police had found no evidence of murder, and some were starting to speculate over whether Williams' death had been a murder or a suicide. No evidence of anyone there besides Williams pointed toward a suicide; however, the fact the police had been unable to recover the knife which had killed the lad pointed toward a murder. Williams' parents were quoted in the article, claiming their son had never been suicidal, that the very idea was ridiculous.

Reading up on your success? a sneering voice asked.

Remus looked up into the ruddy, freckled face of O'Shea, who had come up behind him while he was reading the article. He gulped. Wh-what are you talking about?

O'Shea growled. He pointed towards the headline. He's dead. And I don't care how much you deny it, you killed him! I know you did!

No, I didn't! Remus said, standing up and backing away. I swear, I never saw him! I didn't even know he was dead until I got to school the day after it happened!

O'Shea yelled. Passerby were starting to stare. Even if you didn't kill him yourself, you paid someone to do it! How about that scary bloke you've been hanging around with? That guy Black? Everybody knows he's bad news - you got him to kill Augustus, didn't you?

No, I -

How much? O'Shea shrieked. He looked quite mad; his ruddy face was flushed an ugly puce colour and spittle was flying from his lips. How much did you pay him? Or - did you just shag him instead? Kill him for me, and I'll let you screw me?! Was that how it was?!

Remus yelled back, tears spilling down his cheeks. The people around them had stopped pretending not to listen; they were staring, open-mouthed, at the boys. I never went near him, I was afraid of him, why would I go after him at all? I just wanted to stay as far away as I could from him!

You -! O'Shea lunged, looking angry enough to tear Remus' throat out. Remus dodged, and as O'Shea stumbled and fell, ran for it. He ran as he had never run before, so fast he felt as if he had wings on his feet. He didn't stop until he was safely shut up in his bedroom, where he curled up on his bed, trembling.

He had no idea how long he lay there, shaking; he fell into a half-doze, only to be jerked away from the rim of sleep by a knock at his door.

Remus, love? Are you awake? You need to come downstairs. The police are here.

He sat bolt upright, his stomach plummeting to his feet. The police? Well, naturally, anyone would have been suspicious after the argument in front of the dress shop - any of the passerby could have called the police and alerted them. Or... O'Shea himself could have told them...

Remus slowly trudged downstairs. Two bobbies were sitting in the parlour with his mother, sipping tea. They looked rather stern, and Remus felt nervous butterflies in his stomach. He sank into a chair, trying his best to look curious.

Are you Remus Lupin? one of the bobbies asked. He was rather paunchy, with a white moustache. The other bobby was skinny, with ridiculous mutton-chop sideburns.

Remus said, almost bursting with nervousness.

Chap came down to the station today, told us you know something about the death of Augustus Williams, Moustache said coolly. Remus' mother gasped.

Was his last name O'Shea? Remus asked softly.

Moustache raised an eyebrow. You know him, then?

He doesn't like me much, Remus said. He got into a fight with me today, and accused me of killing Williams, or paying someone to do it for me. I told him he was wrong, but he didn't listen.

Sideburns nodded. You say he doesn't like you? Why?

I don't know. He's hated me ever since I started at that school.

So it's been going on awhile.

Yes, sir.

So you really weren't near Williams when he died? Moustache grunted.

No, sir, Remus said, shaking his head. I didn't know he was dead until I got to school and heard everyone talking about it.

Well, then - where were you that night?

At home, Remus said. I was helping my sister with her homework.

Mrs. Lupin nodded. They were sitting right here, officers. I could hear them talking from the kitchen.

Moustache and Sideburns seemed satisfied. They rose, put on their hats, and shook hands with Remus, thanking him for answering their questions. They tipped their hats to Mrs. Lupin and left after thanking her for the tea.

As soon as the door shut behind them, Remus let out a shuddery sigh and slumped back into his seat. His mother hugged him. Are you okay, love?

Remus murmured against her shoulder. I was... just nervous...

How could they even suspect you of a murder? Mrs. Lupin murmured, stroking his hair. You wouldn't hurt anyone. Besides, you were home all day. I would have noticed if you left...

Remus hugged her tightly. I love you, Mama.

He hadn't called her that in a very long time. Mrs. Lupin kissed his cheek. I love you too, lamb. There were tears in her eyes as she released him. Go get your sister, okay? I could use a pair of good helpers to help me make supper.

Yes, Mama.

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Saturday was a cloudy, grey day. Remus had intended to stay inside and work on homework all day, in the hopes that Sunday would be a nicer day. And he did, even foregoing his usual morning routine of cereal and cartoons in favour of algebra, Latin, and French.

He worked until past lunchtime, finally finishing his last page of work sometime around two. He stretched and yawned, setting down his pen and thinking longingly of the bowl of egg salad waiting for him downstairs. He had just gotten up when the door opened and Sirius poked his head in. Hey, Remmie.

Remus smiled at him. Hello. When did you get here?

Just now. Your mum invited me to lunch. She wants to know if you plan on staying up here until Monday morning.

I was just finishing up. Remus joined his lover at the door. Come on, Mum's got egg salad for us.

Mrs. Lupin smiled at them as they entered the kitchen. Hungry, lads?

the said in unison, sitting down. Remus' mother placed sandwiches in front of them and poured glasses of juice. As the hungry boys attacked their lunches, Serena's voice called from upstairs. Mummy! Come here, please!

Mrs. Lupin hurried away, leaving Remus and Sirius alone. As soon as she had gone, Sirius put down his sandwich and fixed Remus with a stern glance. Listen, you. I heard the police came to talk to you last night.

How did you -

Your mum. The police came to chat with me, too - glad I was the only home... I'd never hear the end of it if anyone had been around... anyway... why are they thinking you and I ever had anything to do with it?

He had mostly told the truth to the police. Yes, he knew a Remus Lupin; yes, he had known Augustus Williams; yes, O'Shea and Williams had borne a grudge against Remus for some unfathomable reason. No, Remus would never have hurt anyone, let alone kill them. His only lie had been when he had told the bobbies that he had never been alone with Williams. He had trotted out the same lies he had told Remus - meant to fight him, Williams never showed up, he had gone home without ever seeing the bastard. They had believed him - Sirius was an excellent, convincing liar.

I... had a fight with O'Shea yesterday, Remus said softly. He accused me of hiring you to kill Williams. The police said O'Shea had told them the same thing. I... I'm sorry to get you dragged into it.. I... I know you couldn't have done it...

Sirius leaned across the table and kissed Remus softly on the lips. Don't fret. I can handle the police, okay? You just keep your mind on yourself. You've got too much going for you to get involved with a murder investigation. And as it is, it looks like they're going to dismiss it as a suicide. He went back to his sandwich. Remus sighed softly and toyed with his napkin.



His lover looked up at him. His black eye had healed entirely, and he had returned to wearing eyeliner (though he had laid off the lipstick today, not wanting to frighten Mrs. Lupin too badly); he arched a slender eyebrow. What is it, Remmie?

Um... Siri... I want to know... I need to know... I -I mean.... he faltered, and looked down at his half-eaten sandwich. I want to know everything about you! But... you won't... you won't tell me anything... and I... I can't help but think you... don't trust me.... Remus blinked back tears. I just... love you so much...

Sirius got up and hugged him. I'm sorry, Remmie. I... I've been hurting you, haven't I?

Remus didn't reply; just leaned into Sirius' arms and sniffled. But they broke apart as footsteps in the hall announced the return of Mrs. Lupin. When she entered the room, Remus' tears were gone, and both boys were chewing on egg salad.

Remus? Are you all right? Mrs. Lupin had noticed her son's eyes were a little puffy.

Oh - fine, Mum.

Your eyes are red.

Blame him, Remus said, glaring at Sirius. He told a stupid joke and I laughed until I cried.

Sirius smiled at Remus' mother. Want to hear it?

If it's not in bad taste.

It isn't. Okay, a mollusk walks up to a sea cucumber.....

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It was nearly midnight when O'Shea staggered out of a pub, swaying dangerously and having to clutch at railings and lampposts to stay upright. True, he wasn't yet old enough to drink legally, but his uncle was the owner of the tavern. His uncle was a huge, Irish giant of a man, with flaming-red hair and a matching moustache and beard, who believed firmly that a little alcohol never hurt anyone, and let his family drink for free.

O'Shea moaned as his head gave a particularly nasty throb, and leaned wearily against a postbox to rest. This would mean a fine hangover the next day - maybe he could get out of school. Pushing back his shaggy red hair, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead in his hand. Not for the last time, he vowed he would never drink again, knowing perfectly well at the same time that he'd be back in another couple of days or so. Wednesday nights were the best; there were pool tournaments and dart games then.

The street around him was utterly abandoned. London was quiet and sleeping, and the only sounds were the doleful chirping of crickets and the faint drone of cars on the motorway. Not even an alley cat was stirring. So it came as a surprise to O'Shea when he heard the tapping of bootheels on the pavement, coming towards him. He looked up, blinking rapidly.

It was that bloke who knew Lupin. The freak with the long hair and the makeup. He was walking quickly, one hand inside his coat, listing slightly to one side as if his ribs hurt. Vaguely, O'Shea wondered if he was drunk as well. Black stopped about a yard away from him, raising one hand to brush his hair out of his eyes.

Isn't a little late for you to be out?

Look who's talking, O'Shea retorted. I'm older than you.

Black shrugged. Older or not, I can bet you're not old enough to be out all night drinking.

Who says I was?

You stink like alcohol. You look like you're going to collapse any minute. I think I know a falling-down drunk when I see one.

Shut up, O'Shea snapped. What is it with you, anyway? Are you Lupin's bitch? I wouldn't be surprised. Are you taking orders from him, so you can get in bed with him?

A slow smile spread across Sirius' lips. I don't need to kill people to get in bed with Remus.

He's that easy, is he? He always played the saint with Williams - don't touch me, go away'. But he'll let you screw him for nothing? O'Shea chuckled. He's stupider than he looks, isn't he?

Black took a step closer. He drew his hand out of his coat, revealing a long knife. O'Shea stepped back, the sight of it slamming through the pleasant haze of drunkenness clouding his mind. Hey - wait a minute here - But Black kept coming, slowly, purposely. His eyes had gone oddly blank. O'Shea turned to run, but hit a dustbin, unseen in the darkness, and before he could struggle to his feet, Black was on top of him.

Time to say goodnight, Black murmured in his ear as the knife came down.

To Be Continued....

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(A/N: A surprising amount of people requested my picture of Sirius that I mentioned in the notes of Chapter 5. I made sure to copy down the email address of every person who asked, and I did send it out to everyone. Unfortunately, I received quite a few Undeliverable Mail' notes after sending the picture. So if you did not get the picture, I'm sorry. You may have given me the wrong address, accidentally hit the wrong key while typing the address, or simply not given me an address at all. If you want me to try again, give me your email, but be sure to review it carefully for mistakes, and be sure the account itself actually is still up and functioning properly. (Sometimes a full inbox needs to be cleaned out; be sure you aren't over your limit.)

I'm very, very sorry for any problems, misunderstandings, or stress this may have caused.

Also, it has come to my attention that J.K. Rowling has said Sirius' true eye colour is grey - but since I think grey is a horrid colour for eyes (no offense to anyone out there with grey eyes), I will continue to draw, write, and describe Sirius with dark-blue eyes. It's the first time I've ever gone against J.K.'s character descriptions... why grey? It would be so... bland. Blue eyes go better with black hair, anyway.)