These aren't my characters, and I promise I'll return them when I'm done playing.

Midnight Apology
by Jiasa Stormcloud

"Moony," whispered a voice in the darkness.

It was a voice that sixteen-year-old Remus Lupin knew well. Indeed, it was a voice he hadn't gone a day without hearing since the school year's start, even when the speaker had spent nearly a fortnight in the infirmary because of an unfortunate incident involving a broomstick, fifteen galleons worth of fizzing whizbees, and a rather startled Ravenclaw fourth-year. It was also a voice he had refused to respond to for the past week.

Remus rolled over in the dormitory bed, and shut his eyes tighter. It would be easy enough to feign sleep, wouldn't it? He ought to be asleep at this hour.

"Moony." The voice was sharp, exasperated this time. "I know you're awake."

He bit his lip, glad for the darkness that hid his expression, and kept as still as he could manage. He kept his breaths deep and slow, and held fast to the sharp, bitter anger he'd felt so strongly only hours before. Sirius lay a hand on his shoulder, and he stiffened.

"Moony . . . Moony, don't do this to me," pleaded Sirius.

With a sigh, Remus opened his eyes. "And what," he demanded, "am I doing to you that is so terrible? Really, Sirius, I was unaware that my getting a good night's sleep caused you so much pain."

He couldn't see Sirius' face, but he knew the pained look his friend wore. "You're still angry," Sirius said glumly.

Vaguely, he wondered if it struck Sirius as odd to be playing the victim in this situation. Did it occur to him at all that he might have done something wrong? Remus had learned long ago that Sirius tended to think of himself as blameless. He scowled.

"Now, Sirius, why ever would I be angry with you?" he asked, and the venom in his voice made him flinch. "It's not as if I've any reason, after all. Not as if you nearly got someone killed, because of your stupid personal grudge, and got me into who knows how much trouble, is it?"

"It was a joke," said Sirius, rather hollowly.

Remus sighed, and sat up. "Well, it wasn't a very good one, was it?" He reached out for the bedside table and searched blindly for his wand. Sirius picked it up and pressed it into his hand. "Lumos," he muttered. Light flared suddenly, and Sirius clapped a hand over his eyes with a hiss. Then the wandlight dimmed, and a soft glow lit their features.

Sirius sat down at the foot of the bed, drawing his long legs up to his chest. "Look, it's not like I meant anything by it," he insisted. "You know that. Nothing was supposed to happen, I was just going to give Snivellus a little scare . . ."

"And maybe a werewolf bite?" Remus bit his lip. No matter how much time passed, he still despised the word. He hated the sound of it, the look of it on a page, and most of all, having to apply it to himself.

"Oh, come on–"

"You know I haven't got any control over it, Sirius. What would you have done if I'd attacked him?" he demanded, just a little too loudly. Sirius placed a finger to his lips with a warning glare, and the two fell silent. Remus scanned the darkness apprehensively. It would not do to be interrupted. There was no sound from the beds around them, save a few snores and someone muttering in their sleep.

"I wouldn't have let you hurt him, Moony," whispered Sirius. "Not badly, anyhow." He smirked slightly, and Remus scowled at him. "Oh, don't be a prig. Nothing would've happened. If things got out of hand, we could have stopped you." He let his head fall forward, resting his chin on one knee. His bed-ruffled hair fell over one eye.

"How? If you transformed, we'd just have another problem, wouldn't we?" Remus snapped. "He'd know not only about me, but about you, James, and Peter as well. Do you know how much trouble an unregistered animagus can get into if they're found out?"

"But no one did find out, did they?" Sirius protested. "And you're not in trouble, and neither are the rest of us, so what's it matter anyhow?"

"Do you honestly think that makes it all right? Just because it didn't turn out how it could have, it doesn't matter what you did?" Remus stared at him, incredulous. Could he possibly believe that?

"It's all sorted out for us anyway, Dumbledore made sure of it," Sirius continued, ignoring him, "And even Snivellus ought to keep quiet. No harm done, right?"

"Dumbledore's sorted it out for me. To keep me safe, like he always has. I hope you don't think it's got anything to do with you, Sirius, although it wouldbe just like you to assume something like that. Probably the only reason you're not expelled is that it would get people asking questions. And if people were asking questions about why you'd been tossed out, answers would get out fast, they always do, and that wouldn't be good for me."

"All right," Sirius said softly. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. "All right, Moony, you've got me. I'm a stupid prat who can't think properly long enough to keep himself from doing something idiotic, a disgrace to humanity and wizardry, and there's absolutely no reason whatsoever that you should forgive me, because obviously what I've done is so bloody awful I'm not fit to look at, let alone speak to ever again, and I've always been a lousy friend anyhow."

"Well, as long as you're aware," Remus remarked, not bothering to check the wry grin that spread across his face.

Hands shoved into the pockets of his pyjamas, bare feet planted firmly on the cold floorboards, shaggy hair hanging in his face, Sirius Black fought the twitching of his lips for a long moment, then dissolved into helpless laughter. Remus laughed too, head in his hands, moisture in his eyes. It was barking, relieved, raw-wounds laughter, filled with aching and very little humour.

"That wasn't actually all that funny, you know," Sirius finally managed.

I know," Remus said. He took a deep breath to calm himself.

Bedsprings squeaked in the darkness. "What the hell are you laughing at?" demanded a muffled voice.

By the dim wandlight, he could just barely make out James' sleep-fogged face. "Nothing, James," he said. "Go back to sleep."

James nodded wearily, then paused. "So . . ." He said, rather muzzily, "you two're all right, then?" He squinted against the spell's pale glow, painfully bright in the otherwise shadowed dormitory.

Remus considered this for a moment. "Maybe," he said.

"Mph," James replied. "Well, then, let me know when you've decided. But wait until daylight, will you?" With that, he pulled his blanket over his head, and was silent.

Remus climbed out of bed as quietly as he could. "You know," he told Sirius, "you never did apologize for all this mess."

Sirius grinned. "No, I suppose I didn't."

Remus glared at him, albeit a bit halfheartedly.

Sirius sighed. "C'mon, Moony," he said, "you know I . . ."

"Go on, then." Remus knew the very thought was killing him. That was all right by him– let him agonise over it for a bit. But Sirius Black was bloody well going to learn how to apologise. He had to, eventually.

"All right, then." He gave his friend a long–suffering look. "I'm sorry." He sighed exasperatedly, but when he spoke again, his voice had softened considerably. "You know that, Moony, don't you?"

"Yes," said Remus, "I know."

"Good," Sirius said, and pulled him into a suffocating bear hug.

Remus tensed, and, after the initial shock, attempted to extricate himself from his friend's arms. "Sirius," he ordered, somewhat indignantly, "let go of me."

"No. Don't be a prig." Sirius hugged him tighter.

"You said that already," said Remus, voice muffled by his mouthful of Sirius' shoulder. He pulled back slightly. "You say that a lot."

"Yeah," said Sirius. "That's because I mean it." He released Remus, who, he now noticed, looked an interesting shade of purple. Something in Sirius was just a little proud of that.

Remus flopped back down on his bed with a sigh. "Fine," he said. "But only if you'll stop being such an arrogant prat."

Sirius swore good-naturedly at him, and he only grinned.

Constructive criticism, anyone?