CB: *Faints* So…much…work! Still, I promised myself I'd take time out this week to at least start this chapter, so hey, here we go!

'So full of artless jealousy is guilt, it spills itself in fearing to be spilt.' – Hamlet

Dusk was closing in rapidly as Remus walked quickly through the forest, trying to ignore the unsettling butterflies that were dancing in the pit of his stomach.

The short, plump, rat faced man who had come to get him from his room shot him a nervous smile, perspiration gleaming on his forehead. "Not far now." He said weakly, taking care to keep well ahead of the tense werewolf. "W-we're nearly at the safe compound." He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, nervously patting his forehead with it. "Um…will you need anything?"

Remus ignored him in favour of memorising his way through the forest.

He'd been brought out to the forest – although it was hardly more than a wood – about half an hour earlier, and although it was no more than three miles from the little village and castle, the deatheater seemed convinced that he would not be able to harm anyone. He, on the other hand, was quite prepared to believe that the wolf was capable of running back to the village within half an hour of moonrise and killing the entire population.

He may have been nervous – but he was not stupid.

"Pray tell," He said coldly, "How exactly are you going to keep me from running off the moment the moon has risen?"

The rat faced man paused in a small clearing. "We have wards," he said, casting a worried eye around the place. "And agents in the wood to stop you escaping."

"And if I rip their throats out?" Remus smiled, baring all of his teeth in a wicked grin. The wolf was starting to show through in his actions now, and they both knew it. "Ahh, at least I'll actually be able to hunt tonight." He licked his lips then glanced around. "Is this your 'safe' compound?" The sarcasm in his voice dropped into place with an audible clang, "I must say, I'm incredibly impressed." He wasn't acting at all like himself, and he knew that, too, but the wolf's instincts and behaviour were bubbling so close to the surface it was making him feel dizzy. 'Moonrise must be soon…'

The rat faced man made a small squeak and shuffled backwards slightly "W-well, if you'll just stay here," he managed, taking a cautious step towards the trees, that lined the clearing. "Um, someone will be along shortly."

"Yes, run away whilst you can." Remus's mocking voice followed him as he hurried away into the dense undergrowth.

Dropping to his knees, the werewolf surveyed his surroundings.

The clearing, whilst small, was lined with thick grass that was still slightly damp from the rain earlier that day. A small tree stump sat in the centre of the open space, and a couple of wild toadstools were growing from it. The trees ringing the clearing were dark and unforgiving against the waning light in the sky and their leaves were just beginning to fall – giving the branches the first impressions of skeletal arms.

Remus shivered, and pulled his robes tighter around his body, willing the dull ache in his bones to fade for a moment – giving him brief respite from the pain that he knew was about to plague him.

In the bushes behind him, something rustled.

Starting, he leapt to his feet with some bordering on supernatural speed, and whirled around. Glaring at the bushes, he paused, heart beating slightly faster than usual. Inside his head, the wolf 's voice commented. Someone we know?

I'm…not sure… Remus gave an experimental sniff, and caught the faint scent of cinnamon and crisp leaves. Him? He blinked, and felt a slight shiver race through his body, signalling the rising moon. What's he doing here?

The wolf gave a mental shrug. How am I meant to know?

Well, I would say try not to maul him to death…but since this is Him… Remus smirked as he settled down, his back against the tree stump. Go right ahead.

Oh don't be stupid, the wolf muttered; already prowling the confines of Remus's mental control, I wouldn't hurt Him.

Got a bit of a soft spot for him, have you? Remus's voice was taunting as he sourly eyed the bushes that Sirius was currently crouched behind. Don't want to hurt the traitor who goes against everything we've ever worked for, just because you have a crush on him?

The wolf snarled in Remus's mind, nearly breaking free of the mental restraints as it became agitated. Fool! It's not just me that likes him so much. When are you going to open your eyes and see what's in front of you?

I… Remus began, but the moon rose in the sky and the change began to wrack his body before he could complete the sentence.

From the bushes, a black dog leapt out.

********

James was sprawled on his back, fast asleep with a small frown marring his forehead when Lily crept into the room he'd hired at the Three Broomsticks. His hair, clothes and bed sheets were completely crumpled and messy as he made a small noise of discontent and rolled over as Lily gently touched his arm.

"James…James darling…wake up…"

Nothing.

"JAMES POTTER!"

James yelped and sat bolt upright, glasses askew and limbs akimbo as he stared wildly around the room. "Wstfzgl?!" He managed, before his gaze landed on Lily, who was perched on the edge of the bed, a small, amused smile playing on her lips. "Oh…" He yawned, raking a hand through his hair and winced as it got caught in among the numerous knots. "Hello sweetheart…what're you doing here?"

"I thought you could use the company," Lily replied, still smiling as she leant over to press an affectionate kiss to his forehead. "Believe it or not, it's been a good two weeks since I last saw you."

"R-really?" James yawned again and leant forwards to embrace her. "No wonder I missed you so much…been so very busy…" He blinked owlishly behind his glasses as Lily reached up to adjust them, then caught her hand in his, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. "I'm sorry I've been neglecting you recently," He whispered softly, "But you know how much of a friend Remus has been to us…I can't just leave him out there somewhere, lost.

"I know." Lily's expression softened as she smoothed his hair. "And he knows you won't give up on him." Leaning forwards, she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. "And that's one of the many reasons I love you, Potter."

James smiled – the first time he had in nearly a week. "I know, and I love you too."

********

The sunlight streamed through the window, playing across sheets, spread-eagled limbs and the dark hair, which was pooled on the pillow.

As the sunlight hit the back of his eyes, Sirius stirred, a small frown creasing his forehead. The death eater blinked, grey eyes focusing slowly as he emerged gradually out of sleep.

By the rays of sun streaming through the window and highlighting the rich brown wood of the furniture, he could tell that it was late morning, or possibly early afternoon. Sighing, Sirius sat up slowly, running a hand through his tangled dark hair.

He'd brought Remus back here early this morning, dumped him unceremoniously in one of the rooms adjacent to this one, and collapsed into his own bed, utterly exhausted. Now, with the day half gone and the reassuring light of the sun playing in the room, Sirius allowed himself to contemplate what he'd seen the night before.

The wolf had been wary of the large black dog at first – unfamiliar with other animals despite its very nature. However, after an hour or two of cautious prowling, it had accepted the other's presence and, eventually, even approached it. Despite this degree of trust, it had still been with a great deal of trepidation that Sirius had allowed the wolf to come so near, but his canine instinct – overriding his more rational human side – had finally induced the wolf into a form of play until the moon had begun to set.

Fur…claws…teeth…

Blood….

Sirius shuddered and wiped this thought from his mind, not wishing to recall the events of the actual transformation.

Ripped skin…bone….more blood…

Retching slightly, the death eater shoved back the covers and staggered out of bed. Firmly banishing the thoughts to the back of his memory, he squinted in the bright light before padding over to the wardrobe and digging around for a robe.

Throwing it over his head, he grabbed a brush and, ignoring the need for shoes, fled down to one of the many walled gardens.

The early spring sunshine had dried the grass in the gardens, although the ground itself was still a little damp. The smooth grey flagstone garden path wound around several flowerbeds before it ended near a bower that was comprised of a trellised arch around which the tea roses, encouraged by the early warmth, had begun to bloom and a low wooden bench that sat under the arch. In the nearby trees, a lone bird sat, occasionally chirruping as it swept the vicinity for worms.

Sirius eyed the bird with distaste before retreating to the bench. Settling himself down he burrowed his feet in the grass, sighing in contentment at the coolness under his toes, before he pulled the brush out of his pocket and began the daily fight with his hair.

The motion of the brush was soothing, as was the sun's gentle warmth, and despite himself, Sirius found he was relaxing. Even the bird, which was still persistently tweeting, had begun to become part of the general background noise rather than an irritation. Sighing, the death eater wriggled his toes, burrowing them still further into the grass, and wondered how long the unseasonable warmth would last. In front of him, the winter pansies nodded their heads from their flowerbeds and the trees swayed in the breeze.

Only the sounds of nature intruded and Sirius, pocketing his brush, stood up and smoothed down his robe. Wandering back to the main garden path he continued to follow it until he came to the second walled garden. His feet slapping against the flagstones, he pushed open the wooden door and peered around it.

This garden was much the same as the first, except it was slightly barer and more ornate. A maze of paths among the flowerbeds led in twisting spirals to the stone fountain placed in the middle. The flowers here consisted mostly of rose bushes and one, beautiful magnolia tree in the far corner, its blossoms already out. Sirius could smell their heavy perfume from where he was standing, and he smiled.

Moving idly to the first flowerbed, he noticed that several of the rose bushes hadn't been cultivated in the past three years at least. Frowning, the wizard knelt down, pushing his hair back from his face to get a better view of the flowers.

The recent rain had laid many of the roots bare, he realised, and if there were to be another frost, the bushes would be as good as dead.

Shrugging, Sirius carefully scooped up a handful of soil and began patting it back around the plant, taking care to cover the roots and a good way up the main trunk of the bush. He was still doing this when Remus found him some three quarters of an hour later.

By this time, Sirius had finished the first three flowerbeds (the rose bushes now carefully trimmed and their roots protected) and was moving on to the fourth.

For a long moment, Remus stood framed in the doorway, not quite sure what he was seeing. The other wizard's hands were gently smoothing the soil around an exceptionally large bush and he was softly murmuring to the plant. A streak of dirt adorned one cheek and the pale robe, which had been clean so recently, now had large smudges on it. A knife, which had been retrieved from the kitchens, was lying on the grass next to the deatheater and as Remus watched, Sirius carefully picked it up and sliced off a dead twig.

Clearing his throat, the werewolf stepped fully into the garden.

Expression startled, Sirius looked up, grey eyes wide in his face. Perhaps it was the unexpectedly vulnerable expression on his face, or the way he seemed almost child-like in his dirty robes, but Remus found himself warming slightly, despite the cold resolution he'd made when he'd woken that morning.

"Yes, do you need something?" Sirius's voice was pleasant but neutral as he turned his attention back to the rose bush, pushing some more soil nearer to it.

Remus shrugged, despite the fact that the deatheater couldn't see him. "I was told you were out here." He replied, his own voice matching the other's tone.

"Hmm." Sirius didn't look at him as he carefully broke off another dead twig. Sitting back on his heels, he studied the rose bush for a moment, before allowing himself a small smile. "Good enough."

"Wha–? Oh." Remus realised he wasn't really being addressed, but came forwards, cautiously, anyway.

"I didn't know you gardened."

"I don't," And now Sirius did turn to look at him, "But they'd just die if I didn't do something about it."

Remus blinked, momentarily nonplussed, and this gave his companion time to study him.

Incredibly pale, the werewolf's eyes were so badly shadowed that it looked like he had two bruises. Dark scratches ran down one side of his neck before disappearing under the neck of his robe, and he was swaying slightly where he stood. He also didn't appear to realise that a dark red patch was blossoming on the side of his clothing.

Frowning, Sirius stood up. "You're bleeding." He said flatly.

Remus followed the grey gaze down to where it was fixed on his side and frowned. "It's nothing much. I heal incredibly quickly anyway."

"Don't be stupid!" Sirius snapped, "That's need medical attention." With two swift strides he had crossed the grass and was standing in front of the werewolf. Pausing, his hand hovered over the shirt of Remus's robe. "Do you mind?"

Remus shrugged, expression carefully neutral. "I'm wearing clothing underneath."

Nodding, Sirius pulled the robe off and bit back a small cry of horror at the sight of the wound.

It ran from just below Remus's armpit to his hip. Deep and oozing blood, it looked incredibly vicious, and the death eater had to marvel that no internal organs had been damaged.  Bending, he hastily ripped three long strips from his own robe. "Hold still," He commanded.

Complying, Remus winced as the first of the makeshift bandages was wrapped around his body. He was, however, surprised by how gentle Sirius was being, despite the other man's evident irritation.

When the death eater had finished, he stepped back, frowning. "We'll probably have to find you some proper bandages." He announced, handing Remus his robe, "But it'll do for now." Their fingers brushed as the werewolf accepted, and grey eyes flew up to meet faintly surprised amber ones.

"…Thank you."

Sirius shrugged. "You shouldn't be out here like that anyway. If that wound had been sustained by a normal person, they'd be long dead."

A wry smile quirked Remus' lips. "I'm hardly normal."

"No," Sirius agreed, his expression utterly serious, "You're not." Turning, he indicated the door. "We'd better get you back inside."

"One moment." Remus caught his wrist, pulling him back. "I wanted to speak to you."

"We can talk inside."

"No. Here."

Sirius pursed his lips. "What did you want to talk about?"

"You."

Eyebrows rose in surprise and Sirius stared at him. "What on earth for?"

"I've seen you before somewhere. Hogwarts. Why didn't I see you again?"

"That's none of your bloody business!" The death eater snapped, tugging his wrist from Remus's grasp.

"I think it is." The werewolf crossed his arms, stubbornly refusing to leave the point. "I think I deserve some answers, particularly after last night."

"What about last night?" Sirius stared at him, face suddenly closed off and unreadable.

"There was a dog, a big, black dog. Like the one I rescued the night before I met you. In fact, from what I can remember, I'd swear it was the same one." Remus regarded Sirius stonily. "How did it get here?"

Sirius's jaw twitched slightly as he stared at Remus. "So you came out here for answers."

"Precisely."

Marching back along the path, Sirius went straight back to the first garden and the bench. "Then sit down before you fall down. If you want answers so desperately, you're going to bloody pay attention. I'm not going to have you collapsing in the middle of all this."

Sinking gratefully onto the seat, Remus looked up expectantly, not bothering to hide his expression. "Well?"

"Well what?" the death eater folded his arms across his chest, not deigning to sit. His posture was defensive and every line of his body spoke of tension.

"Are you going to explain to me why I saw you at Hogwarts?"

Sirius looked away, swallowing convulsively. "Straight for the jugular, Lupin," he allowed, his voice tight. "All right. Why I was at Hogwarts." Taking a deep breath, he began to speak, his voice flat, his eyes refusing to meet Remus's gaze. "I only went to Hogwarts for one year. Before that, my parents had had me privately tutored – that was until I was fifteen. They were worried about me, I was their only son and my mother wasn't able to have any more children.

"Finally, Dumbledore came to see my parents. Believe it or not, I'd actually had the gall to write to him, asking for help. I felt…trapped, there's no other word for it. As much as my parents loved me, they were smothering me. Every move I ever made was carefully dictated by them, how I dressed, what I ate, how I acted – who I was, really. We were a prestigious family, well known in social circles and so I suppose they were trying to groom me to be what they wanted. I know, essentially, it was for my own good and that I was probably reacting with a normal teenage attitude – but still…

"Anyway, Dumbledore convinced my parent's Hogwarts was the best option. He argued that I needed to know how to deal with people of my own age, so, reluctantly, they agreed." Sirius drew a deep breath, his body shuddering slightly even as he continued to look out across the garden, refusing to even turn his head towards Remus. "It was amazing; for the first time in my life, I was actually free. I had friends my own age who liked the same things I did and I was having the most amazing time of my life."

"Why did that change, then?" Remus asked, voice soft.

Sirius laughed bitterly. "I met someone. Someone my parents, when they found out, did not approve of. It was about halfway through my first and only year there. I was…coming back from the library and…" He trailed off and shrugged. "Well, it's not important now. What is important is that one of my friends realised what I was feeling about this person, what I was thinking. They informed their parents. Inevitably, their parents informed my parents."

"Why did your parents care so much?" Remus was beginning to regret asking. The pain was evident in Sirius's face, and he was beginning to feel a small spark of guilt.

"My parents didn't approve because…because this person wasn't of the same social class and they were also of the same gender. Do not mistake me; my parents were not homophobic, and everything they did for me, they did because essentially, they believed that what they were doing was right. The idea just didn't sit well with them and they made up a reason to transfer me to Durmstrang. They never told me that was why they moved me, but it was evident. After they found out, they never treated me in quite the same way. There were looks that they didn't think I saw, moments when things were so awkward it was difficult to even communicate." Another bitter smile, "I wasn't their precious little boy any more."

"And the person you liked?"

Haunted grey eyes turned towards Remus for the first time since the conversation had begun, and the werewolf was shocked to see how much emotion was swimming in them, compared to the stony gaze of earlier. "They never knew. I didn't tell them, that's the point, I didn't really tell anyone." Sirius shot the werewolf a small smile full of bitterness and pain. "I didn't even know his name, anyway."

"So you were moved to Durmstrang because of him?"

"Yes."

"Which is why I only saw you once."

"Yes."

Remus expected Sirius to ask exactly when he had seen him, but he didn't. Instead, the death eater sank gracelessly to the ground, not even bothering to use the bench. "Anything else you would like to know?" His voice was hollow, but with a touch of acid that still marked it as Sirius'.

Remus drew a deep breath. "Yes, that dog…"

"…Was me. I'm an animagus." A sour smile twisted full lips. "It's what makes me so useful."

Remus nodded, not quite surprised as he thought he should be.

"Is that all?"

"No…" The werewolf took a deep breath and prepared to take the plunge. He'd resolved to ask Sirius this question this morning, as soon as he'd woken up, really. "If you're parents were doing everything for you…why did you kill them?"

Sirius' hands fisted convulsively and his gaze dropped once more to study the flagstone path. "That…I didn't do."

"But you're father, when he was dying…he told me you had done it." Remus stared hard at the other man, his expression grim.

"No." Sirius's tone was dull. "I didn't do it. I didn't even know until Peter informed me of what was happening. I went there…I saw it all. My father saw me…but I didn't try to stop it. Not even when he screamed for help." He shuddered, and his fists clenched still further.

"Then you are as bad as a murderer." Remus's gaze was angry. "You saw and you could have helped, but you didn't."

Sirius laughed harshly, grey eyes flaming as he stared up at Remus. "You tell me what I was supposed to do, Lupin. There were thousands of them, there was one of me."

"Then you should have at least died trying to do what was right."

"That is simply idealism. Why throw my life away on people who used to hurt me every day?"

"Bu you said yourself…"

"Oh, I don't mean deliberately. It was just with every sideways glance, with every slightly odd reply, they hurt me. They didn't mean to – they tried to love me after I came back from Hogwarts, but I couldn't be what they wanted me to be, and we all knew it."

"Still, that is not enough of a reason to not defend them!" Remus stood up angrily and crashed onto his knees in front of Sirius. Gripping his chin, he forced the other man to look at him. "You let your parents die. No matter what they did, they were still your parents. You should have rescued them."

"Do you know they disowned me in the end?" Sirius said it almost conversationally, but his expression was hard. "After I became a deatheater, they wanted nothing more to do with me."

"Maybe because they were good people?" Remus replied acidly.

"Don't be ridiculous. Nobody is 'good', just as nobody is 'bad'. You've heard the saying: 'one man's freedom fighter is another man's terrorist'. It depends entirely on you viewpoint."

"So what's yours?"

Sirius shrugged. "I believe in the cause of Voldemort, and I believe your side is in the wrong."

"Good grief." Remus looked at him in disgust. "You really have been brainwashed, haven't you? Voldemort hurts innocent people."

"And your side doesn't?" Sirius's expression was twisted, halfway between anger and bitter humour. "Voldemort may hurt innocent people, but at least he doesn't force them to work for him and risk their lives for a cause they don't believe in."

"Our side doesn't do that!"

"Really? Take Peter as an example, then. He was living a normal, reasonably happy life. The next thing he knows, the ministry turn up on his door and order him to join their cause against Voldemort. They threaten him until he agrees and then they send him straight in on a surprise attack mission without any training. They know he will get caught, in fact, they're counting on it, because they have fed him the wrong information. So, when he gets tortured, he'll lead Voldemort's army straight into a trap. You tell me how sending out a man deliberately to die is good."

"I…" Remus stared at him.

"Yes, innocent people do get harmed if they come into contact with our side, but this is war; it's inevitable."

"A callous view." The werewolf's lips thinned into a disapproving line.

Sirius stared at him. "I'm a callous person, Remus. In my mind there is no good or evil. There is simply one's actions, and that is what is the most important. You're actions determine your fate. If my parents hadn't disowned me and turned me in to the ministry so I could spend three months being tortured, maybe they'd still be alive today. Maybe I'd be dead, having tried to save them." He shrugged and looked away, face drawn and looking strangely tired.

There was a long moment of quiet in the garden, as Remus's mind processed all the information he'd been given in the past half an hour. Somewhere behind the two men, a bird trilled in one of the trees – the only sound in the otherwise silent garden.

"One last question," Remus said at length.

The deatheater gave a hollow laugh. "Gods above, what do you want? My blood?"

"Hardly. I'm a werewolf, not a vampire."

This drew a grudging smile, and the atmosphere lightened slightly. Sirius inclined his head. "Go on then, ask."

"…What does Voldemort want me for?"

"Ah." Sirius looked slightly relieved, as though he'd been expecting a question that was much worse. "To be honest, I don't know. I don't question him, or his motives. If he had wanted you to know, he would have told you by now, and the same would probably apply to me as well."

"I wouldn't have expected you of all people to be so…"

"Complacent?" Sirius shot him a genuine smile this time. "I'm not; I did a fair bit of digging around when I first caught you, and couldn't come up with anything – so he's either not telling, or he's not entirely sure himself, yet."

Remus nodded and there was another long pause whilst he gathered his thoughts. At last he looked at Sirius, who was staring off into the distance. "…Thank you." He said softly.

The death eater blinked, gaze coming sharply back into focus. "Hm?"

"Thank you." The werewolf repeated.

"That's all right, I suppose." Sirius smiled weakly, and Remus, caught off guard, noticed what a nice smile he had when he was being sincere. Behind the wizard, the tea roses had begun to blossom – their blood red petals just on the brink of uncurling. All in all, deatheater and garden painted a strangely beautiful picture together. Not one who was used to admiring art, Remus still couldn't help but compare the rich red with the dark black of Sirius's hair; the deep green of leaves and stems with the pale blue of the robe. Shaking his head, he pressed his hand palm down onto his own robed knee, trying to banish the surreal sensation of such a perfect picture that was so easily contrasted to the emotional pain of before.

"Remus…you ok?" It was the first time Sirius had called him by his first name since their conversation had begun, and it was enough to startle the werewolf back to the present.

"I…" He blinked, and shook his head again. "Sorry," He smiled slightly, and was surprised to see Sirius's own expression lighting up in response. "I think I was just…er…overwhelmed by the amount of information I'm going to have to come to term with."

Sirius gave a small chuckle. "At least you haven't spent the last half hour pouring your life's story out to a near stranger," He said ruefully. "I think I can safely say this has been an emotionally draining experience."

Remus inclined his head, smiling. "This is true." Looking up, he found himself caught in the strong silver gaze of the deatheater. His heart, which had been beating rapidly with adrenalin from the start of the conversation, pounded to a stop, and his own breathing sounded loud in his ears.

Neither could say who reached for the other first, but their lips met softly, gently; the meaning behind it so different to the brutal kiss they had shared the day before. There was nothing sexual about it, only a sweet, almost childlike innocence, the tender cautiousness of two individuals thrown together and had who had reacted without question.

Pulling back abruptly, Sirius leapt to his feet. Clearing his throat, he stared down but refused to meet Remus's eyes. "…Excuse me." He muttered at length, before hurrying off down the garden path. His actions were so swift that it took Remus a moment to even register he had gone.

Around the corner, Sirius paused for a moment, leaning against the old stone wall and shutting his eyes. "Damnit," He hissed from between gritted teeth, "this is not meant to be happening…"

To Be Continued…

CB: *Drowning in angst* Hmm, that chapter didn't turn out quite as I wanted it to…it sort of escaped. . Oh well, I'll thank everyone next time around! (And Happy Easter!)