CB: Hugs and kisses to…
Titou Moony, cindered-hope, Lyth Taeraneth, HappyDappyDrunk, empath89, JW Grey, Avain, YukiDragon, LunasStar, Anon, Rikkali, Queen of the Paperclips, KyvieSnape, Sorceress MooNBlaDeR, Rachel, alana chantelune, Dawn Aurilain, delfin, mysid, Shadow Cat17, Lover not a fighter, Hell's Angel – Heaven's Demon, Quick-fic, XxDecadencexX, The all mighty and powerfulM, Blinkelf, Plushii, Tama-Ayanami, Lunaris, korosu, xParanoidAndroidx, LBx, Eden, Wesleigh, remusfan, bkwrmbenny, Eizoku, Dragon Pearl1, Poicale, Carapheoinix, The Wishmasters, Squishy Gamgee.
A MASSIVE thank you to flight514 who drew me the most amazing fanart of Sirius and Remus meeting back in Chapter One. It can be found here:
'There is no mistaking a real book when one meets it. It is like falling in love.'
- Christopher Morley
"Sirius," James's voice was cold as he looked down at the parchment, his eyes following the words across the page. "Perhaps no one thought to inform you that you are betraying your family's heritage. I have heard all about your acquaintance with those degenerate muggle-loving freaks and it has got to stop. Your Head of House should have already informed you that to associate with those types will only bring shame to your family…" The dark haired boy paused in his reading and looked up at his friend, who was still standing, one hand on the portrait frame, face pale. "If you had been placed in Slytherin, as is your right," he continued, looking back down, "none f this would have happened. (Your father and I are still most displeased about that particular issue). I only hope that Regulus does not turn out to be the disappointment you have become."
"Stop…" Sirius's voice was a harsh whisper – the faintest breath of a scream colouring it. "Stop, James…"
"We will expect you home for the Christmas Holidays and ask that you do not bring any of your acquaintances with you. The Malfoy's have been kind enough to offer to look after you whilst your father and I visit relatives for three days in Paris. Apparently Lucius Malfoy has taken quite a shine to you – both your father and I heartily approve of this friendship and wish to encourage it in every way possible."
James looked up from his reading, brown eyes hard behind his glasses. "An interesting missive, don't you think, Sirius? How strange that you didn't mention it to us. Funnily, I thought that friends shared their problems." He nodded at Peter, who with shaking hands produced another piece of parchment. "Read it to him, Pete."
"Sirius," Peter began, his voice shaking as much as his hands. "Having seen the spectacle you have made of yourself over the past year at school, I was extremely pleased to hear from Ariadne Malfoy how polite you were during your visit. It appears that you are, despite opposing forces, becoming the heir your father and I wish you to be. Lucius, too, when he met us at the opera, commented on how incredibly adult you were. I will reiterate what I have said before – encourage this friendship, if you please. The Malfoy heir appears to have taken quite a shine to you, and I think it is in our best interests as a family if we have strong connections with one of the only other truly pure families."
"Stop it…" Sirius croaked – his grip white-knuckled on the portrait post. Peter stopped, looking hesitantly first at Sirius, then at James, who had his arms folded and was leaning back in the chair.
"Why?" Sirius had never heard James sound so cruel. "You've been keeping all of these…letters…from us. Isn't it about time we had a little truth around here, Sirius? Or is lying also part of the Black code of honour?" He spat the last words out as though they left a bad taste in his mouth.
"You know…I told you my family didn't like me being in Gryffindor," Sirius said, grey eyes large as he stared at his friend. "I told you they wrote to me…how have I been keeping things from you?"
"'Those types'?" James quoted, leaning forwards suddenly. "Is that what your family really thinks of us, Sirius? And grovelling to the Malfoy's? I never realised that that was what you got up to in the holidays. No wonder Lucius looks so damn smug every time we all come back to school."
"Shut up, you don't know what you're talking about…" Sirius's voice was still a whisper.
"The least you could have done was confide in us," James continued, as though he hadn't heard. "But no, when does the great Sirius Black ever need to confide in anyone? Pure bloods, you're all the same – you all look down your noses at us – why bother with the little people? Well tell me, Sirius, what's so fucking perfect about having no muggle in your bloodline? What's so amazing about committing something that's practically incest?" He stood up, abruptly, storming over to where Sirius was standing and wrenching him away from the door by the collar of his shirt. "You didn't tell us," he hissed, nose to nose with the other boy. "Are we so utterly below you that you won't even tell us how your family treat you?" he shoved Sirius away abruptly, sending him staggering into the wall. "You really are just another Black after all, aren't you?"
Sirius stared at him for a long moment, his breath coming fast, panicked. Finally, he tore his gaze away from James to look at Peter, who was watching him with a frightened yet angry expression. "You don't…you don't honestly think…" His voice was pleading as he looked back to James. How had the evening gone so very, very wrong in the space of a few short minutes? James just watched him, impassively, and it was this that finally broke Sirius's desperation, pushing him over the edge into fury. "You do think I'm fucking like them, don't you? You bastard, Potter! You've known me seven years and yet you actually dare to stand there and accuse me of being like them!" He snarled, pushing away from the wall. "I am nothing like my family. I'm not obsessed with bloodlines; I despise looking down on people. Just because my mother wrote me a couple of letters, suddenly you have the right to stand there and accuse me? I played whore to Malfoy a couple of times, so fucking what? Look how many people you cozied up to when it got you something!"
"Sirius…" Peter's voice was wavering as he took in the furious atmosphere of the room.
"And why the hell were you going through my things anyway?" Striding across the room, Sirius snatched the parchment from James.
"Lupin." The name brought Sirius up short, and he stared at James, the anger leaving his body so fast it felt as though he had been punched.
"What?"
"Lupin. We wanted to know what you were up to with Lupin. We lost track of you after you'd slipped out of the common room…" James nudged the invisibility cloak with his foot, "…despite using this. So Peter suggested we look through your things to see if we could find some kind of diary or memo or something. Instead, we found those." His jaw worked for a couple of seconds, as though he was chewing something difficult.
"And you thought that because my mother had written me those wonderful letters, the person you've known for seven years is obviously somebody completely different." Sirius sniffed and folded his arms.
"You are one of them, Sirius." James's face had lost a lot of its anger as well, and something that looked strangely like sadness flickered in his eyes for a brief moment before being swept away by neutrality. "You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth."
"You can't say I'm one of them…"
"But you are. You're refined and elegant and far more 'educated' than either Pete or myself. It's just taken this sordid little incident to show that to me. You may be Sirius, but you are also 'Black'."
You may be a Black, but you are also Sirius…
Sirius jumped, the phrase flashing through his mind as he stared at James, and he struggled to place it. Oh yes, Professor Lupin. Well, how was that for irony? His friends of nearly a decade were denouncing him as a Black and his teacher of less than a month had accepted him as an individual. "You know, James," he said carefully, hiding that insight away for another time and place, "I'm surprised to hear you say that." A wary expression darted across James's face, and Sirius nearly smiled. "I think, in a way, you just don't like facing up to reality. You knew I had a pureblood family from the very beginning, but it's taken an example of pureblood mentality for you to truly understand what that means. You don't like change, do you? And you certainly don't like someone changing all your preconceptions."
"I – " James began, but Sirius cut him off ruthlessly.
"I am a pureblood, there's no doubt about it, and some of my heritage I'm not proud of – but it's what I am, and you're just going to have to accept it." Not waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and stalked up towards the dormitory.
He knew that later Peter, playing the mediator, would cautiously climb the stairs, knock on the door, and insist that James really was sorry. He knew without a doubt that this whole stupid incident would be put behind them by tomorrow. He knew that James would push the 'Black' concept to the back of his mind where it wouldn't disturb any of them. He knew, however, that his friend would be on his guard for any 'pureblood behaviour' and he also knew that as much as he wanted to deny it, he was 'Sirius Black.'
So he settled onto his bed to enjoy the anger while it lasted.
Sometimes he hated being Sirius Black.
AaAaAaAa
'Forgive me father, for I have sinned…'
The words were, strangely, running through Remus's mind as he stared at his study wall. 'Forgive me father, for I have sinned. I nearly slept with a man, and as if that wasn't bad enough, he was my student.' The wall stared impassively back, not accusing or denying, and Remus sighed, turning away to begin picking up the scattered pieces of parchment and smashed inkbottle.
'What would Dumbledore say if he could see his perfect 'mentor' now? Unless he meant a mentor in the style of the ancient Greeks – which I doubt.' He frowned as he tossed the last of the glass into the waste paper basket and sank down into the soft armchair in the corner of the room. 'Enough is enough. I should have stopped Sirius's flirtations a long time ago. I'm going to have to be more assertive and just tell him…no. That's it, no. And I'm just going to have to tell Dumbledore that I can't possibly spend my time looking after a deranged teenager because I have more important things to be doing.'
Sitting with his legs tucked underneath him, he craned his neck to look out of the window. Outside it was dark and he scowled. Another evening wasted – and he really needed to get those essays marked… his gaze skittered across to the stack of newly arranged pieces of parchment and he twisted his lips in a mocking grimace. 'Maybe I should just leave them until tomorrow. No, can't…' His eyes slid back up the window in time to catch the palest hint of moonlight lurking behind the clouds. 'Stupid! You nearly forgot! A fine mess you would have been in tomorrow evening had you been wandering around the corridors. I suppose this Sirius thing has got to me more than I wanted it to.'
Sirius was…like a disease, it seemed. Once he got under your skin, he stayed there, slowly spreading – poisoning your mind and body. Remus frowned and drummed his fingers on his knee. The student was obviously desperate for some kind of comfort and he had chosen Remus, of all people, to help him. 'He doesn't know about you,' a tiny voice commented at the back of his mind. 'He doesn't know you're a freak. If he knew, he'd never come near you again. He's a Black, a child of pure silver and ice, sired by cold, heartless people who'd hang a werewolf's head on their wall if they got a chance. You need to stay away from him. Far away. Make him sit at the back of the classroom, make sure you're never caught in your office alone with him again…
"I'm his teacher." The whisper was soft but clear in the warm silence of the room, and Remus looked down to see his hands had curled into fists. "I'm his teacher, I shouldn't have gone near him in the first place…I shouldn't even be thinking about him now."
He's only a year younger…"That's not the point!" He rubbed his eyes. "God, now I'm talking to myself as well. No, enough is enough; I'm not letting Sirius Black come anywhere near me again. I don't want to lose my job and Dumbledore's respect."
Remus stood up abruptly, closing the curtains of his study in one swift movement, blocking out the sight of the near-full moon. Turning back to his desk, he picked up the essays and a quill, trying to ignore the way his mind constantly strayed to the dangerous path of inky black hair and cool grey eyes and perfect ice cold features.
Forgive me father, for I have sinned…AaAaAaAa
"What," Lily said the next morning, "is going on?"
Peter shrugged, miserably, and chewed another piece of his sausage. Sirius and James were sitting next to one another talking – if barely – and occasionally making comments that were slightly more poisonous than their usual ribbing. The shorter boy had watched with a certain degree of satisfaction as they had grudgingly made up the night before, but there had either been a relapse in the time it had taken him to have a shower, or another awkward topic had risen.
"Oh, look," James's voice was dripping with innocence – his tone overly casual. "There's Professor Lupin."
Sirius stiffened nearly imperceptibly before he smiled just a touch too politely. "Yes, he looks ill this morning, doesn't he?"
"I wouldn't know, I don't really observe him that closely."
"Alright you two, that's enough." Lily had grown impatient with their sour tempers and was glaring at them, pointing her fork menacingly. "I don't know what has happened between the two of you, but I want you to get over it." She scowled as James and Sirius refused to meet her gaze, staring instead at their plates. "Just kiss and make up, will you?"
This earned the table a shocked yelp from James, who had jumped to the conclusion that she meant literally. "What?"
"Oh for the love of –" Lily had dropped her fork in surprise, but quickly retrieved it. "It's an expression, you fool." She sighed and stabbed at her bacon, ignoring the vaguely put out look James was sending her.
"I think," Peter said, staring hard at the ceiling, "that it's nearly time for lessons." He sighed and pushed his plate away, avoiding Sirius's keen gaze, and picked up his schoolbag, which had been resting under his chair. "Maybe I should sit in the middle today," he added offhandedly, as James let out a hissing breath from between gritted teeth – no doubt because Lily had just kicked him in the shins.
"Yes, probably a good idea." Sirius's voice was cool, bordering on icy as his gaze flickered sideways towards James. "Better be careful though, Pete, you wouldn't want a wicked pureblood to poison your mind." His voice was deliberately harsh – he was making a pointed jab at James.
So it was still about that… Peter sighed and stood up.
"I'd be more worried about him keeping more secrets from you, Peter." James's voice was rough as well.
Oh, maybe it wasn't about the pureblood thing after all. Peter could feel a headache beginning behind his eyes. It wasn't often that he tried to read into James and Sirius' behaviour, but when he did, he found it all the more frustrating because they were simply impossible to work out. He was constantly second-guessing, and it seemed that this time was going to be no exception. It was probably, he decided, something to do with that lousy bet.
Whilst Peter was conducting his internal debate, Sirius had stood up as well and was pushing his way towards the doors out of the Great Hall. Shouldering past a gang of Slytherins, he heard James's familiar footsteps behind him but refused to turn his head. Instead, he simply pulled his dog-eared timetable out of his pocket and nearly groaned when he saw the first lesson of the day: Defence Against the Dark Arts.
Stuffing it back into his pocket, he attempted a nonchalant expression, but dropped it as he passed a mirror that commented on his 'snooty demeanour'. Somewhere in the corridor behind him, he could hear Lily and Peter talking together quietly and James's surly mutterings as he pushed against the flow of students all hurrying to their different lessons. Pausing outside the classroom, Sirius took a deep breath and pushed open the door.
Professor Maple, who had been leaning over the desk, looked up in surprise. Her bobbed brown hair hung in her eyes and she pushed it back with one lean brown hand. Wiry, in her fifties and a force to be reckoned with, the Herbology teacher was one of the few members of staff at Hogwarts that allowed no misbehaviour in her lessons – least of all from Sirius Black and James Potter. Tapping one fingernail against the desk – she still had dirt on her hands, Sirius noted – she raised an eyebrow.
"You're early, Mr Black."
"Where's Professor Lupin?" Sirius ignored the question and frowned when she shrugged.
"Ill. He asked me to take his class this morning."
"But –" Sirius's mouth was half open to protest that he had seen Lupin at breakfast, when he realised this statement could arouse some suspicion. Why would a student be watching his teacher?
Professor Maple raised one eyebrow, but said no more, looking past Sirius to the classroom doorway, where James, Peter, Lily and several other Gryffindors were lurking, attempting to look as well-behaved and inconspicuous as possible.
"Come in, come in," she snapped, waving a hand impatiently. "There's not point in you standing out there, is there? I can't take a lesson in a corridor." She sniffed disapprovingly as Peter, in his haste to comply, very nearly tripped over his own shoelaces. "Mr Pettigrew, kindly refrain from making a mess in the classroom, would you?" Peter flushed and mumbled an apology, scuttling up the aisle of desks to sit at the back.
Sirius sighed and wandered after him, lost in thought as he heard Professor Maple begin to discuss the forthcoming lesson with several of her favourite students – all of whom were in her own House of Ravenclaw.
So, he's not coming…maybe he really is ill, he didn't look well earlier. Then again, maybe it's an excuse; maybe he just doesn't want to have to see me. Sirius frowned. The thought should have been a happy one – if Lupin didn't want to see him, the most likely assumption to make was that he was, in some way, finally making an impact on the teacher. Apart from an initial smugness, however, he found that to his surprise he wasn't happy. Disappointed, would have been a more accurate description. What is wrong with me? He wondered, he was so easy to upset – no challenge at all. Hah, those galleons are as good as mine. He frowned again as he sat down next to Peter. Still…it was so…interesting…to irritate him. It's going to be a shame to have to get rid of him.
To his surprise, James sat down next to him. "So, Lupin's not here," he said abruptly.
"No." Sirius stared straight ahead, not really seeing anything.
A light punch landed on his upper arm and he turned, surprised, to James, who grinned tentatively. "I forgive you for being an arrogant secret-keeping pureblood," he said.
Sirius smiled, feeling relieved. "And I'll forgive you for being a nosy little bastard."
"Agreed." James's grin this time was much wider.
"But James?"
"Mmm?"
"Next time, can you try to refrain from attempting to follow me and also from digging through my stuff."
James ran a hand through his hair. "I make no promises I can't keep." He smiled and nudged Sirius. "Besides, what kind of a friend would I be if I didn't pry into your personal life every once in a while?"
"A good one?" Sirius joked and they both grinned, giddily, at one another. It wasn't often that they fought, and when they did it hurt both of them.
"I am sorry, Sear." James's voice and expression were sincere. "It's just…hell, I didn't realise things were that bad with your family. And then I began to see bits and pieces of your 'other side' that you've shown over the years, and I realised that, in some ways, I don't know you very well at all."
Sirius stared at James, hard. "Oh, I don't know, Potter. I think between you and Peter, you've made me into the kind of person I want to be, as opposed to a mother's boy like Regulus. Those…haughty moments are just my breeding and upbringing showing through." He laughed. "Still, never mind. One day I'm going to have to take you to the opera – some of the costumes are beyond belief."
He and James shared a conspiring smile. "Are the costumes really that awful?"
"Worse."
They snickered, even as Professor Maple began the class, and then settled down for a dull and uninformative lesson.
AaAaAaAa
Two days later Sirius was sprawled in an armchair by the fire in the Gryffindor common room. He made an elegant – if somewhat rumpled – picture. Ignoring the appreciative glances he was earning from several girls in a lower year, he folded his arms across his chest and glared into the flames, as though it was his willpower alone that kept the whole thing burning. He was, quite clearly, sulking.
"Never mind." James was trying to sound soothing but the effect was ruined because of the smile threatening to break over his face.
Sirius simply muttered something uncomplimentary.
"I'm sure he really is ill. He's not avoiding you." James shot a rather desperate look at Peter, who shrugged. "I mean, maybe he's really sick!" He brightened. "Although if he is avoiding you…I suppose I win the bet."
"You're not helping!" Sirius snapped, sitting upright and thumping the arms of the chair with his fists. "If he's gone to Dumbledore…"
"He won't have," James said his voice calm. "What's he going to say? 'Headmaster, I nearly shagged one of my students'? I doubt that would go down well."
Sirius had, the previous day, finally succumbed to James's demands to know how he was going about putting Professor Lupin out of work, and whether he had anything to do with the teacher's sudden absence. The dark haired boys had been talking seriously in a corner for over an hour before they'd emerged – James relieved that he hadn't been imagining things when he'd seen Lupin and Sirius kissing in the mirror, and Sirius vaguely concerned as to why – as his friend had pointed out – he had been scrawling Lupin's initials on a piece of parchment. It had been decided that this was because he had been thinking hard about his 'plan', but Sirius was still left with a faint sense that All Was Not Right with his head.
"Stop worrying, will you?" James slapped one of Sirius's hands away from his mouth. "And stop chewing your fingernails. That won't solve anything."
"But it's been three days!" Sirius howled, making several Gryffindors scowl at him as he interrupted their work.
"Precisely. Only three days."
"But if he was ill he would have been cured by now in the infirmary!"
"Well, maybe it's something serious."
"Oh, it's something Sirius all right," Sirius said darkly. "I bet he's having a nice cosy chat with Dumbledore right now. I bet he's telling him everything. You wait, give it three days, maybe four, and I'll be back at home, having been expelled." He sniffed, disapprovingly. "…Or he's simply faking illness so he doesn't have to look at me again."
James had the vague feeling that the conversation was going around in circles.
"Er…" he said eloquently, and promptly gave up. Glancing desperately at the clock, he jumped to his feet. "Merlin's balls! Quidditch practice started ten minutes ago!" Cursing, he fled upstairs to grab his Quidditch robes, whilst Peter stared after him, disbelief written across his face.
Sirius scowled and made no move to get up, until James came hurtling back down the stairs and flung a set of scarlet robes at his friend. "Up, Sirius! Professor Lupin may not need you, but the Gryffindor Quidditch team does!" As he spoke, he was frantically attempting to pull the clothes on over his head, with his broomstick in one hand. A polite sixth year relieved him of it, and waited patiently until he had untangled himself.
Slinging the robes over one shoulder and picking up his own broom – which had been summoned by a helpful Peter – Sirius followed a panicked James out of the portrait hole and down to the Quidditch pitch, listening with mild amusement, despite himself, to the Captain's extended vocabulary of unflattering things about life, ungrateful friends, lack of time and the foul weather that was lurking on the horizon.
As they approached the pitch, Sirius noticed with some surprise that a group of scarlet-robed figures were sitting hunched up against the cold in one of the stands, whilst above them a team of green-robed players weaved and dodged, tossing an old tennis ball to one another and laughing. Next to Sirius, James cursed under his breath, his body tensing as he prepared himself for a fight as one by one, the other team landed.
"Potter, what on earth are you doing here?" The Slytherin Captain, Aaron Lestrange raised an eyebrow, leaning on his broomstick. "There's a Slytherin practice this evening." His gaze flickered briefly over to Sirius, and he nodded politely. "Black."
"Aaron." Sirius' eyes and voice were cool, polite and distant, and James eyed him uneasily for a moment, before addressing Lestrange again.
"The pitch was reserved for the Gryffindors to practice from seven to nine thirty."
"Yes, but as you can see," Aaron waved a hand, "their Captain wasn't here, so they couldn't very well practice, could they?" His grin was malicious. "So we took advantage of the situation."
"Well you can fuck off now." James's temper was fraying rapidly.
Lestrange stiffened, looking affronted. "No. You were late, you lost the pitch. That's not out fault, Potter. You and your pathetic team will just have to practice elsewhere. Oh, I forgot," he continued, his tone taunting, "you're not allowed to practice Quidditch on the school grounds anywhere but the pitch. Oh well, bad luck. Maybe next time you'll get down here a little faster."
"Listen you –" James was cut off abruptly by Sirius, who raised a hand wearily.
"James, leave this to me."
"But –"
"Leave. This. To. Me. Go and talk to the rest of the team, tell them we'll start practice in a minute." Sirius's gaze didn't move from Aaron's face as he spoke but he could see, dimly in the background, Snape in his green Quidditch robes, smirking. He didn't move until James had stomped off the pitch towards his teammates, then raised an eyebrow, folding his arms as he spoke.
"Alright, Lestrange. Enough is enough. Get off the pitch, please or I'm going to have to write home to my mother and tell her all about that charming little Hufflepuff you've been seeing on the side. I'm sure she'd be interested to know, particularly as your older brother is marrying my cousin, isn't he? It would be such a shame to ruin a good match." It was very rare that Sirius let his 'Black' side out to play during the school term, but he was almost enjoying himself as he watched Aaron blanch. "I'm sure my mother wouldn't hesitate to tell your parents, either," he added. Not once had he raised his voice, or used tones that were anything but polite, yet the Slytherin felt…threatened, there was no other word for it. Sirius's smiling face and cold eyes were just altogether too pureblooded, too Slytherin. He came from one of the oldest families in the wizarding world and it showed, not matter how often he tried to hide the fact.
Lestrange backed down.
"Get off the pitch," he snapped at his team, turning away from Sirius, who was still smiling politely. As his housemates – save for Snape – walked away, he turned back, looking thoughtful. "I thought I had been discrete with Eleanor," he muttered, looking worried. "How on earth did you know?"
"My dear," Sirius's tones were haughty, good breeding dripping through them. "I know nearly everything that goes on in this school. And how could you possibly expect me not to keep a close eye on anybody whose brother is marrying into the family?" He smirked and turned, sauntering back towards the stands as Aaron stared after him, open-mouthed.
"Black." The sneering voice made him pause, glance over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised.
Snape was standing behind him, ignoring Lestrange, who was slowly making his way off the pitch. "How is your family?"
"What do you care?" Sirius snapped. He may have been polite, elegant, to Aaron, but he was in no mood to exchange pleasantries with Snape.
Snape shrugged. "I just thought you might have heard a little rumour about your brother…" he paused, smiling nastily.
"What about Regulus?" Worry began pooling in Sirius's stomach as he thought of his younger sibling, off at Durmstrang.
"Oh," Snape casually examined the end of his broom, pushing a small twig back into place. "Something about…Voldemort, was it?"
"What?" Sirius's voice was an angry hiss as he swung around to face Snape completely. "Just what are you saying, you despicable little snake?"
Snape smiled, pleased to be drawing blood. "A Death Eater. That's what I'd heard." There, Black, let your arrogant 'Gryffindor pride' deal with that little piece of information.
"You're lying." Sirius's voice was rough, his lips pulled back from his teeth in a snarl.
"No lie." Snape's eyes narrowed. "I'm not surprised though; I always knew he'd end up in trouble with someone like you as a role model."
James, who had been sitting with the rest of the team, heard a furious yell from the pitch. Recognising it as Sirius's, he squinted down and saw his friend had lunged at a Slytherin, knocking him flat onto his back. Sirius had straddled the other player and was making a good attempt at beating him into a pulp with his fists, which were – James had to admit – flailing rather desperately.
As he vaulted over the railings of the stand and began to run down the steps, an enraged voice cut clear across the cold evening air.
"SIRIUS BLACK!"
Professor Fogarty – known affectionately as 'Mars' by pupils and teachers alike – was storming onto the pitch, his expression black as thunder. The sports teacher was tall, lean and with curling blond hair that fell to just past his shoulders, but despite his rather angelic appearance he had a quick temper and didn't hesitate in dishing out formidable punishments. Right now, James reflected as he skidded to a halt next to the prone figure of – as he could now see – Snape and the defiant Sirius, Mars was furious. He didn't envy his friend.
"Assaulting another student? What were you thinking?!"
Sirius, who had climbed off of Snape, muttered something, but didn't look up from where his gaze was rooted to the floor.
"What was that?" Mars snapped, "Speak up, Black!"
"I said, Sir, that Snape accused my brother of being a Death Eater."
James drew his breath in, sharply. That explained a lot; Sirius had already had to deal with a load of pureblood crap this week – largely, he admitted, from himself – and Snape's comment was, no doubt, the final straw.
"That is no excuse." The teacher's face was still furious. "You're lucky I'm not Professor McGonagall, or you'd be off the team, boy. You have detention, starting as of now. You will stay behind and clean out the changing rooms. In the meantime, practice will be cancelled this evening. Mr Potter, kindly inform your team mates whilst I take Mr Snape here to the hospital wing. Black, I'll send someone down to keep an eye on you."
James glanced at Snape, who was deathly pale, two large bruises already puffing up around his eyes. He clearly had a broken nose and his lips were a mess of blood. Mars hauled the Slytherin to his feet, propping him up with an arm around his shoulder and route-marched him back towards the castle.
AaAaAaAa
Sirius was sitting on one of the benches in the changing room, still seething with anger, when he heard the light footfalls that indicated the approach of his supervisor for the evening. Sighing, he stood up, briefly wondering whether he was supposed to have used his time thus far to reflect upon his overreaction. He hadn't, of course, but it might be a good idea to tell the teacher that he had.
When Remus Lupin walked into the room, Sirius nearly sat back down again in shock.
The Professor's normally tired-looking face was now bordering on haggard. Dark shadows under his eyes and a half-starved appearance only made him seem far older than he had any right to. His skin was deathly pale and he walked with a slight limp that he was clearly trying – and failing – to hide.
"Remus!" Sirius leapt forwards, taking his arm. "Sit down, you look as though you're about to collapse."
The teacher stiffened at his casual touch, then pulled away so sharply it was as though he had been burnt. "I'm fine," he said curtly, and motioned to the room. "I suggest you get started. I was informed your task was to clean this place up."
"Where have you been? Are you ok? You look really ill!" Sirius ignored the other man's order.
"I'm fine." Remus repeated, "Now hurry up, I want to get back up to the school as quickly as possible."
Sirius frowned and decided to disregard the fact that he, too, had just had his questions ignored. "Fine." He picked up the cloth he had found on one of the basins and wetted it before turning back to Remus, a mischievous – if somewhat strained – smile gracing his features. "But only if you'll kiss me first."
"No." Remus's voice was abrupt, cold. "I made a mistake once, Mr Black, I don't intend to repeat it. Now please begin." Ignoring the hurt look Sirius shot him, he sank down onto one of the benches, trying not to wince as the newly healed cut on his leg pulled. Watching the pupil work, he silently cursed Dumbledore's good intentions in sending him down here as opposed to another member of staff.
I feel it would do Sirius good to talk to someone who, in many respects, understands him, he'd said. And you did agree to mentor him for me, Remus. When the young teacher had protested, Dumbledore had simply looked at him with wise eyes and asked precisely why Remus objected so much to keeping an eye on Sirius. Was there, perhaps, some kind of personal reason that forced him to withhold his compassion? As Remus had spluttered about the full moon being only a day past, and being exceptionally tired, Dumbledore had simply waited, then said "A teacher's job is never finished though, Remus. You know this. We must be alert twenty four hours a day, three hundred and sixty five days of the year." Which had effectively put paid to any other excuses Remus might have come up with.
As Sirius worked Remus stared at him, half desperate to escape, half desperate to go over and put his arms around the taller boy's waist and completely and utterly confused. 'I'm hopeless,' he thought, miserably. 'I thought I'd got rid of this…this…infatuation. Or whatever you want to call it.' He sighed and rubbed a hand wearily across his face. 'God, I just want to sleep. Maybe this is actually a horrible dream and I'll wake up back at home any minute now.'
"Are you sure you're ok, Professor?" Sirius had stopped work without Remus realising it, and was bending over in front of him, face near as he gazed with concern into the teacher's eyes. "You look really tired."
"I'm perfectly well." Despite the cool tone Remus attempted to adopt, a slight hint of warmth crept into his voice as he realised that here was someone who actually cared about his physical state.
Sirius smiled. "Good, I'm glad." He leant a little closer. "Remus…"
"No!" Remus shot to his feet so fast that Sirius nearly tripped over as he staggered backwards in surprise. "I'm sorry, Sirius, but we can no longer do this. I am your teacher; I could lose my job, which is something I don't want to happen. Therefore this…this…" What exactly was it, anyway? "…Thing has got to stop." Without waiting for a reply – and not wanting to hear one because he knew Sirius would argue in favour of the little voice that was telling him to go back in there and steal the breath from the student's lungs – he walked out, pausing only to toss a promise to find another teacher to supervise Sirius's detention.
Sirius stood in the middle of the cold, dank changing room, his mouth hanging open as he stared after the rapidly retreating teacher. Something deep inside his chest was beginning to hurt and he wasn't sure whether the pain was physical or emotional. He couldn't identify it, whatever it was, so he simply threw down the wet cloth and flopped onto the bench, resting his chin in his hands as he squeezed his eyes shut, wanting to scream, wanting to curse.
"Shit," was the only thing he could manage.
AaAaAaAa
Remus stared at the locked trunk, his head spinning.
He was sitting in his office, the curtains were drawn and the door was securely locked. The trunk had arrived that morning from his old Headmaster at Beauxbatons, with a note saying 'Thought this might be useful to help with your teaching of third years.' It was, of course, a Boggart. However, he wasn't entirely sure he could deal with it at the moment. His encounter with Sirius some three hours previously had left him confused, irritated and more than a little worried. If he was to brush up on his rusty Riddikulus skills, he needed a peaceful and happy frame of mind.
Not exactly an ideal situation, then.
He nudged the trunk dubiously with his foot and wondered how he was going to make a full moon entertaining enough to force a laugh. A balloon was always a possibility, as was a round cheese – he had often been told as a child that the moon was made of it – or, perhaps, some kind of insect. A cockroach, perhaps, or a butterfly which was, after all, still an insect when you got right down to it.
Sighing, he decided on a piece of cheese and reached for his wand, already rehearsing the spell in his mind – mouthing it silently to the empty room. Rubbing his sweating palms against his robes, he gripped his wand firmly and swiftly unlocked the trunk, pushing back the lid.
"Rid – "
And froze.
Sirius stepped out of the trunk in all his rumpled glory. His shirt was hanging loosely from his shoulders, his tie nowhere to be seen. He was wearing no shoes and his feet slapped against the floor as he stepped out onto the cold stone. His hair was tousled but still ridiculously long and his grey eyes were lush, enticing, as he stared at Remus from under lowered lashes, a small smiling playing around slightly parted lips.
"Oh…god…" Remus croaked, and the Sirius-Boggart cocked its head still smiling.
"Thank you," it said, Sirius's wicked humour perfectly engrained into it as it took another step forwards.
"Why…why on earth are you…" Remus shook his head, dizzily, and raised his wand. "You're not real," he reminded himself as much as the creature still approaching.
"No," the Boggart agreed amicably. "But I am your worst fear."
"That's ridiculous."
"Is it?" The Boggart paused, looking thoughtful; then it smiled. "No, I don't think it is." It laughed and began to slide its shirt off of its shoulders, making a small, pleased noise as Remus drew a deep breath in, shakily, then exhaled sharply. "I feed off of your fear," it said softly, running fluttering fingertips over its own collarbones as the discarded shirt pooled on the floor.
"But I don't fear Sirius." Remus couldn't drag his eyes away from the creature that looked and behaved exactly like his student.
"Oh, but you do." The Boggart laughed, tilting its head back to expose a slim, pale throat. "You fear what he does to you, you fear how he makes you lose control." It licked its lips, reaching out to run gentle fingers down Remus's cheek. "You fear not being able to say no to him." It grinned, displaying shockingly white teeth behind dark, parted lips. "I can see what's flashing through your mind," it said, almost kindly, "you've lost control once already, haven't you?"
"…Yes."
"There you are then." It smiled and leant forwards, warm breath rushing across Remus's lips. "That which you fear and desire all at once. How very ironic, the two strongest forces of humankind collide within you." It's grey eyes slitted, peering from under the thick lashes once more. "And you're powerless to stop this." It laughed again and grabbed Remus's face between slender, graceful hands. Pulling him forwards, it kissed him fiercely on the lips, moaning in pleasure as Remus stiffened, panicked. Slipping a warm tongue between the shocked Professor's lips it purred, a strangely Sirius sound, and wound its arms around Remus's neck.
Breaking away, it smiled as Remus swallowed, heavily. "You see? You are powerless. You want me here just as much as you wish I would simply go away. Humans, you are all so contradictory, you can never decide what it is you really want, and you always crave that which is bad for you."
"I don't." Remus's voice was barely a whisper. "I don't crave what is bad for me. I don't desire Sirius and I don't fear you."
"Lies; all lies," the Boggart sang, releasing Remus and dancing lightly back a step, its long black hair swaying with its every movement. "If any of that were true I wouldn't be here." It clasped its hands together in a strangely child-like gesture that fitted oddly well with Sirius's body and behaviour. "A little word of advice, Professor, I wouldn't show your…technique at defeating Boggarts to any of your classes – I'm not sure they would appreciate the sight as much as you do." Its gaze flickered slyly over Remus's face, which was caught in a fierce blush.
"I'm not afraid of you," the teacher repeated, raising his wand.
"Aren't you?" The Boggart cocked its head and smiled. "I am your greatest fear, Remus – your greatest desire." It's eyes glinted as Remus opened his mouth. "See you later, Professor."
"Riddikulus!"
The Boggart vanished with a crack and a puff of smoke, which poured back into the open trunk, leaving Remus alone once more in his classroom, staring very hard at the floor and refusing to think of anything at all.
To Be Continued…
CB: Much love and worshipping once again to the amazing Ncascanuez who is a fantastic 'plot beta' and came up with the stunning idea for the Boggart scene!
