A/N Sister fic to It's the Same Moon. I may make a few branches off of it, like, too. About time I got this up, really. It doesn't matter if you haven't read It's the Same Moon. This might be Sirius/Remus. You have to have that type of eyes for it. If you hate it with your heart and soul, don't worry. It's an odd sort of ficling.

This fanfic was written especially for you.

Disclaimer: Oh my gosh, you think I own Harry Potter! You dork!

Dumbledore asked me if I wanted to do it. I knew what he really meant. Could I do it? Could I go to the cell of the man who I thought was my friend for countless years, the man who became an Animagui for me, the man who I thought would have died for me, and try and get information out of him? No one else was able to. Dumbledore had even tried. He didn't tell me what had happened while he tried. No one else could get him to talk. So why not his old friend, the man who had been his friend for countless years, the man who had been the reason for him to become and Animagui, the man who thought he would have died for him?

It made sense.

Dumbledore had asked me if I wanted to do it. I said yes. He asked me if I was sure. He was really asking me if I could do it. I said yes.

I didn't know it would be this hard.

I knew it would be hard going into the Ministry and getting the certification. We'd get it, of course, because it was Dumbledore and they needed the information. It was a big case. There was the case, though, that everyone would stare at me. There was the case in some people, that they would stay away. Others would come up to me and tell me how sorry I was. Some would stare at me as if I was a foreign object. Those who knew who and what I was and why I was there.

"Ah, Mr Lupin," a man said at the seat of the Azkaban Registration Desk. He shuffled his papers nervously. I raised an eyebrow. "Well, we know why we're going and we hardly think you need any sort of pass, but I'm afraid you'll be needing one for the guard." He shivered slightly and scribbled something on a slip before handing it to me and then looked at Dumbledore. They talked for a while and then where set.

It sounds easy enough. It sounds more than easy. But that slip in my hand, that tiny slip of paper with a signature on it was the slip that would lead me to the only friend I have left. It's the slip that'll let me betray my trust. And I immediately know I can't do that. Sirius betrayed our trust, he betrayed everyone's trust. I can't do the same. I can't accuse him of things and ask him to tell me the truth, just because he still thinks he can trust me. I can't do it. But I have to. Everyone's depending on it. Harry's depending on it. I have to.

It hurts me that I am promising myself I will never be like Sirius. It kills me inside. This man used to be my friend, he used to be Padfoot. I thought I knew him.

It was only a few hours until we stood outside the island. I suddenly felt a rush of heaviness to my head and stumbled when I got out the small boat that had taken us across the sea. I ran a hand through my hair and Dumbledore put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. The place looked completely dire, a collection of cells and dark shapes of dementors. I swallowed and handed my slip to one that Dumbledore gestured to and expected it to rot into its hand. As soon as the creature touched the form, though, and I still had my hand on it, I let go. I gasped, stumbling backwards again. Dumbledore grabbed my elbow.

I was running; running flat out. There was a log in my way. I couldn't be older than six. I tripped. There was a rip of teeth, a flash of claws.

"Remus, are you sure you'll be fine?" I nodded firmly.

"Yes, sir."

"Happy memories," he murmured.

But did I have any left? Most of my happy memories consisted of James, Sirius and Peter which couldn't really be that happy, not now. I lowered my head, thinking of the next best thing: my father.

"Almost there," he said reassuringly.

We passed another dementor and my mind caved in again. I couldn't stand it. I'd graduated almost top of my Defence class and I couldn't handle a few simple dementors. My hands started shaking.

"Remus, we know."

I shivered violently, looking around. I couldn't take it. I couldn't look at him. His cell was paces away now, so close. The man who I had trusted with my life was there, the man who had been my friend for years, the man who had abandoned all the trust in one simple word, and sold us all out. Dumbledore glanced at me again and I looked deliberately away.

"We know what you are." A feeling of dread. They'll hate me. They'll hate me, I'll have to leave. Well, there's the end of my education. It was nice while it lasted.

"I'm fine," I repeated firmly. I was trying to convince myself. I was fine. Of course I was fine. Why wouldn't I be? The shaking increased and I had my eyes fixed on the cell. Prisoner 4928722. That's what it had said on the slip, the note letting me in. To visit Prisoner 4928722. Not my friend, not my best friend, the Animagui Sirius Black. Prisoner 4928722. That's why I was here.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Sirius' tone was harsh. Peter looked shocked. I was surprised he wasn't screaming yet. Why weren't they running? Why didn't they hate me?

I pushed the memories away, pushed away the hate, the sadness. I tried to. I could see a silhouette in the cell, now, and my heart raced. I stopped. Dumbledore looked at me. He said nothing. I felt like retching. Like leaning over and retching. I paused for a moment, the disinterested looks of the people around me on my back. Prisoners. 4928722 prisoners were lined up on this dire island. Some would never leave.

The house, once warm and friendly, looked crushed and dead. A feeling of dread filled me. I knew what was there. I knew who had done it. I sunk to me knees. A giant green skull with a serpent glittered in the moonlight.

"Sir! Professor, you need to understand, I didn't-."

"Mr Black," Dumbledore said, cutting across him. There was certainly something cool to his voice, something that exceeded detentions and telling-offs. I swallowed hard. "Remus is here like you requested."

I realised how different I must have looked. The last full moon had been terrible and cuts and scars lined my arms and face. My hair had greyed. I wasn't really sure about how long it had been. Probably a few weeks. Maybe a month. I wasn't sure. Dumbledore looked at me and his eyes asked me if I could do this. I knew the answer. I stepped foreword.

He looked different as well. His hair was matted and his clothes ripped. He had a stain on them and his eyes were bloodshot. Even after only a short stretch here, his skin was already pulled tighter than it had been. The once laughing, handsome young man I had known was gone.

I opened my mouth to say something. It was unusually dry and I closed it again. Sirius stared back at me. He was sitting down in what looked like a pile of mouldy blankets and straw and he looked at me, cool as can be. We said nothing. I opened my mouth again and Sirius cocked his head expectantly. I said nothing. Dumbledore looked at me and then looked away, knowing. I knew as well. I turned.

He was my friend. He had been. He had betrayed our trust, used it against us. He had taken our trust, twisted it and used it against us. I could never do the same thing against him. Because some part of me still trusted him. I couldn't take his trust and use it against him. I would never be like Sirius. I was sure of it in that moment. Even if I could never find a job, if I was never accepted again, I would never be like Sirius Black.

At the end of the island I bent over and retched, over and over again, until there was nothing left but bile and blood. Then I looked up suddenly. It wasn't as if I had heard something but I sensed something. My eyes fixed on Sirius' cell, eyes narrowed. Then I looked away.

"I can't be like him," I said quietly and Dumbledore nodded understandably. He put a hand on my shoulder again, helping me into the boat and I put my head in my hands.

I thought he was my friend. Sirius Black, the man who I'd trusted with my life, the man who I had knew more than anyone, the man who had been an Animagui. I would have gone to the end of the world and back for him.

Now he was only Prisoner 4928722.