The stone wall was cold against Sirius' back, a leeching kind of cold, and his neck hurt from how he strained it to look out the tiny window above his head, searching for a sign in the night sky. His fingers, curled against his chest and the ribs that jutted there, were so frozen he didn't feel them anymore. He didn't really feel anything.
Now, how had it begun? Sirius searched for it in his mind, the first thread, the one that would lead to all others. There was always time to go through it again, Sirius had plenty of time…in fact, he had nothing but.
So, then, where was it…
Oh, yes. He remembered now.
"GRYFFINDOR!"
Sirius sat down at the declared table to moderate applause; was it his imagination, or was there a certain shock permeating the Slytherins across the room, a shock that left a silence hovering over their quarter of the dining hall? When the Hat had made its announcement- and so quickly too, Sirius thought with no little pride- he could have sworn he had heard his cousin Bellatrix let out a little shriek, but all was quiet there now.
Of the Gryffindors, those who cheered loudest were surely unaware; they applauded to be polite, to be welcoming, and Sirius joined them with a broad grin. It didn't matter if they knew that he was different from them- that, by all accounts, he shouldn't be here- for he was one of them now, his family be damned. The consequences be damned.
Sirius couldn't have asked for a better placement.
Quiet fell again as the next first year approached the hat, and Sirius schooled himself to attention, though it was impossible to wipe the smile from his face. He was a Gryffindor now, it was decided, and so he was going to do it well- cheer as loudly, if not louder than all the rest when greeting his new compatriots. Let it be known that he was happy with the Hat's decision, that he wanted this.
There were few new students at all this year, and as such only five more who joined the ranks of red and gold:
The first was Lily Evans, a red haired girl with a bright smile; Sirius thought he had seen her on the train. Then and now she looked about with wide, amazed eyes (his well-trained brain flashed an unpleasant word, spoken in his mother's voice; but no, muggle-born, he would think of it as muggle-born) and she seemed quite happy to have been sorted anywhere.
Then, after a few more students came Amelie Gallant, another girl, her sporting a short brown bob and red pockmarks on her cheeks- she seemed to expect her result and smiled cheerfully as she sat down by another, older Gryffindor girl with similar features (a sister, perhaps).
Next, midway through the line, was Remus Lupin- an odd name. A boy this time, tall and slender but very pale, with black marks under his eyes so dark they could be seen from across the room- his appearance in this way was almost shocking. Sirius cheered loudly for him, and when Lupin sat (across from Sirius, a few seats down) he offered Sirius a small, almost shy kind of smile, one that did not fully reach his eyes.
Peter Pettigrew came next- a short and pudgy boy, his round cheeks flushed bright red with pleased embarrassment as he rushed to sit. Sirius, now, was standing to cheer- did he feel Slytherin eyes on his back from across the hall? he hoped so- and he waved Pettigrew over welcomingly, so that the boy sat beside him. Sirius couldn't know Pettigrew's breeding- he didn't recognize the name, so he must be low class, though not necessarily muggle-born- but he looked in every way the opposite of Sirius' cold, sophisticated family, so he wrapped an arm around the smaller boy in a gesture of friendship.
Immediately following Pettigrew was another Gryffindor- James Potter, who wore glasses and had terribly wild black hair. When the hat was lifted off his head he raised his arms and took a jaunty bow, grinning like a rock musician at the whoops he received from the table; Sirius laughed, and wished he had thought to do that.
After James, there were no more Gryffindors. A boy for Hufflepuff, a handful of Ravenclaw girls, and one more Slytherin-
-Severus Snape-
-a greasy looking boy who took Sirius' place at that dark table.
Then it was all over, food was appearing on the plates, and Sirius introduced himself to everyone, striking up cheerful conversation between mouthfuls of his meal. He didn't look back at the Slytherin table once.
Boarding the train, Orion had taken his shoulder, murmured in his ear- you don't have to worry, you know your connections, you'll do fine; the place where his fingers had lain burned, but as the night went on the pressure of it became lighter and lighter, and by the time dessert was over and the students were being guided to their common rooms Sirius almost couldn't feel it at all.
Should he fear this?
By tomorrow morning, someone would surely send an owl, the family would know...a disruption that cannot be ignored...another blight of Sirius' personality...heir to the Noble and Most Ancient house of Black, a Gryffindor...?
Slipping in through the Portrait-Hole, the light of the warm fires crackling in the Gryffindor common room, good food warm in his belly...Sirius decided then that it didn't matter. None of it did. They could be as angry with him as they pleased, and he wouldn't care an ounce. He was never going to be what they wanted.
In the dormitory the new Gryffindor boys gathered round, chatting- Sirius liked James already, who introduced himself with witty jokes, and even liked Peter, who laughed at every one.
Only Lupin stayed quiet- though none of the boys could claim to know each other, Lupin alone had the air of a stranger. Instead of joining in the conversation he sat on the windowsill, pulling back the thick embroidered curtain to look up at the night sky. For a moment- a flicker, less than an instant, really- his eyes appeared to glow.
Days stretched into weeks, weeks into months; Sirius did not receive word from home, not a single letter, not even a Howler like he had half expected. He was frozen out, complete radio silence, the dark pressure of the thunderhead above him not letting loose its lightning...Sirius wasn't looking forward to Christmas. Until then, he played his part in the silence as well- he never spoke to anyone from Slytherin House, not even his many relatives, turning a cold shoulder to them if any dared approach. He spent his time making raucous play with James Potter and Peter Pettigrew, the former of whom had quickly become Sirius' best friend. He had never met anyone with a sense of humour that so perfectly matched his- just being in the same room with James made Sirius giddy, made him feel more confident than he ever was at home, like he could do anything and get everything he wanted. James was the same way- one wink across the room, one shared knowing grin, and they were off wandering the damp, spiraling bowels of the castle, catching new views through small windows at the tops of spindly towers, racing across the vast green lawn. Sirius was sure he could explore the castle for years and never see the all of it. The world was expanding before his feet, every day took him further and higher than the last, and he couldn't have asked for a better companion in flight than James.
Peter Pettigrew became a close friend too, of another sort- with his dim but eager nature he was the perfect audience, quick to applaud anything Sirius and James did. He never predicted the punchline of a joke before it was told, and as such he made wonderful company on their adventures, quick to praise and gasp at all the right times. Sirius often found himself thinking how well suited he was to Gryffindor- he had never been anywhere near as happy at home as he was here. At Hogwarts, everything came naturally to him- magic, friendship, adventure. He could hardly imagine going back to Grimmauld Place- those dusty corridors, the fading fortune, stiff upper lips and eyes that watched from dark corners- after this.
Of the other first years, only one person did not get along easily with Sirius, and that was Remus Lupin. It wasn't that he was cold, moreso distant... Sirius couldn't decide if he was shy or standoffish. The pale boy was perfectly polite in class- he had lent Sirius a quill more than once- but during free hours he never seemed to be around. He didn't meet anyone's gaze in the common room, doing his homework in a corner away from the fire, shadow-stained eyes turned down to his parchment. Sirius sometimes found himself watching the other boy, why he didn't know, some half-formed fascination…perhaps because, unlike the other Gryffindors, Lupin's heart clearly wasn't kept on his sleeve.
Sirius opened the bathroom door to shower, rubbing morning blear from his eyes, and to his surprise nearly ran face-first into Lupin, who was leaving. That was right- Sirius never saw Lupin in the facilities, he always got up early so he could go at it alone...perhaps he really was just shy. Sirius stared at him, half-asleep and as such not possessing his usual sense of sociability...Lupin's hair looked almost black when it was wet, and it curled about his ears, his eyes were so big up close, and…and what was that-?
"Excuse me," Lupin said, almost coldly, and he pushed past Sirius, retreating up the stairs to the dorm. Sirius simply stood there, turning back to watch him.
It was strange- in dimmer lighting and from farther away, lit by flickering fire from across the common room or in bald sunlight coming in through the classroom windows, they were nearly invisible...but up close and in the bright witch-light of the bathroom, it was clear that Lupin had scars on his face. They had been thin, well-healed, faintly crossing his cheeks and chin- how could Sirius have failed to see them before? Perhaps this was why Lupin always turned his face away, even when he was being spoken to...perhaps this was why his neck was always bent to the floor, save when he was looking out at the night sky…
Sirius showered and dressed, and chatted with James on the way down to breakfast, but all the while his mind was on those slender, silvery marks. A mystery, one that seemed to stir a cold wind in Sirius' insides. He didn't mention it to James- for some reason, he didn't really want to. What he wanted was to talk to Lupin, talk to him properly... but the other boy was so elusive such a thing would surely be a challenge.
Well. Sirius was a Gryffindor, and they were not the type to shy from a challenge.
It was some time, though, before Sirius had the opportunity to speak to Lupin again. He was always just out of reach, out of sight...there never seemed to be a convenient time and, to be fair, Sirius often forgot about his self-assigned quest when he was hanging out with James. But still, he was determined...
"Are you excited for the Halloween feast?" The words sprang past Sirius' lips in a motion like desperation; Lupin turned, surprised, halfway out the Transfiguration classroom already.
"The Halloween feast?" he echoed, his voice soft and slightly hoarse, like he was recovering from a cold.
"Yeah, there's apparently going to be dancing skeletons, and giant pumpkins..." Sirius tried, his voice trailing off lamely. He suddenly felt embarrassed by his interest. Why was he doing this? He wasn't excited for the Halloween feast, not really, he and James had already laughed over how kiddyish the whole thing sounded...Lupin blinked once at him, eyes dark and liquid, and then he looked away.
"Oh, it sounds great," he said softly. "But I don't know if I'll be able to attend."
"Why not?" Sirius asked, and he felt himself shy again as he said it, for no good reason at all. Lupin seemed to startle at the question, as though caught in a lie.
"I have to go home," he said carefully. "Family trouble."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Sirius tried to say, but Lupin was already gone again, swept away by the bustle of students moving from class to class. Despite the many voices on the air, Sirius' own head felt strangely silent.
This weird mood lasted only another hour or so- after Charms it was lunchtime, and by then he was chatting with James and Peter, the matter left by the wayside.
It wasn't until after Halloween that Sirius saw Lupin again. He hadn't really thought of the other boy all week, too preoccupied with other mischief- the Halloween feast had actually been quite impressive, and afterwards Sirius and James had stayed up all night attempting to bewitch sweets they had stolen in the light of the full moon, Peter trying desperately not to fall asleep beside them. They had both been exhausted the next day, their skills not advanced enough to truly charm anything into doing their bidding, but it had been fun nonetheless.
It was a few days later- the last dregs of the holiday largely wiped away- that Sirius was passing through the third floor corridor on his way to Charms; he caught sight of Lupin, moving opposite to the flow of the crowd, his eyes flickering and his face impossibly paler than it usually was. Sirius slowed, watching- Lupin slipped through a narrow door with a sign across it labled CLOSED, and not one person seemed to notice him- no one but Sirius, that was.
Sirius hesitated a moment, but that was all.
Entering, he held the door so it closed silently behind him and looked around- this seemed to be a bathroom, the marble fixtures familiar but faintly molded with disuse. A shuddering intake of breath echoed about the stone walls and Sirius turned towards it, finding Lupin standing before one of the mirrors, his robes pulled down to bare one white shoulder…
...white, and yet also red-
Lupin yelped, seeing Sirius in the mirror, and yanked his clothes back up into a better state of propriety. Sirius was shocked by the look of him up close- Lupin's eyes were shadowed in blue and purple, his lips dry and bitten, and the pale scars had turned faintly pink; he looked exhausted, and like he had been crying.
"Are you okay?" Sirius asked in this startled silence. "Are you hurt-?"
"You're not supposed to be in here," Lupin hissed, and for a second his irises seemed to flash. "This is a girl's toilet, and it's closed!"
There was a long, awkward pause, and then Sirius laughed.
"Well in that case, you shouldn't be here either," he said, and Lupin just pursed his lips, nearly a pout. Sirius took a step closer, his hands held open...I won't hurt you, or tell on you, it's okay... like Lupin was an injured wild animal…
"Can I see?" Sirius asked, gesturing to the shoulder in question (why? why was he like this for this person?) and Lupin shook his head, pulling away and covering the area with one thin hand. Closer still, Sirius saw that he was shaking, and he was certain that that flash of red had been blood.
"If you're hurt, we can go to the hospital wing," Sirius said responsibly, but Lupin shook his head again.
"It's not that bad," he murmured, and Sirius shrugged.
"Bad enough to miss Charms?"
The surprised look on Lupin's face suggested that he had forgotten that Gryffindors had that class at this time. Sirius laughed again, and held out his hand.
"Let's go together, then- if we're both late the professor won't be able to complain."
Lupin didn't return the touch, putting his own hands in his robes, but when Sirius turned to leave he followed.
After that, Lupin slowly began to warm to the other first years- when conducting their late-night conversations in the dormitory, Lupin would turn on his side to listen, thin brown hair strewn out on the pillow, occasionally even chiming in. He walked with the other boys, instead of alone at the end of the line when heading from class to class. Every so often, he would even meet Sirius' eyes.
At night Sirius often found himself waking to the silence of the dorm; he would lie there, knowing he was not the only one awake, peering out at the darkness through half-closed lids...Lupin's bed was nearest the window, and the light of the half-moon made his pale face glow, the scars upon it unusually visible, and he stared out at the stars with an expression of perfect melancholy.
Sirius never let on that he saw these moments- these hours, secrets tucked safely between sleeps; he couldn't even say that they weren't dreams.
Christmas came and went- cold rooms, tense silences, neither he nor his parents discussed the choices of the Hat or anything about school at all, really, besides his classes. It felt like they were daring each other, both parties waiting for the other to bring it up first, those explosive words... Gryffindor, Slytherin, right, wrong, tradition... Regulus loved hearing about the school and Sirius' misadventures, he told him of them under the covers at night, the younger boy's eyes huge with his imagination.
Still, the train back couldn't come soon enough. When it did- sleek red steam engine, the metal too hot to hold snow, there, a boy with a shock of wild black hair, waving to him and wearing a red-and-gold scarf- Sirius felt the world come back to him again.
The snow covering the grounds was thick and white, the perfect texture for snowballs. Cold fingers and deep drifts couldn't keep them from it, the air out by the frozen lake was thick with frigid projectiles, each toss becoming wilder and less well aimed than the last.
James turned to look up at the Quidditch pitch, atop which distant figures in red could be seen spinning through the air, as light as any snowflake.
"I'd like to do that," he said. "I bet I could."
"Try out next year then," Sirius said, and he lobbed another ball at James' head, which he caught single-handedly before it could land. Sirius put his own hands up with a laugh- a robber before a policeman's non-wand, like in those Muggle cartoons- but James spun and fired his weapon in another direction, catching Lupin in the back.
Lupin yelped, surprised- James only saw surprise and pointed, laughing at him- but Sirius saw something else too, a touch of pain, swift and well hidden behind a smile.
Lupin scooped up a monstrous ball with both hands and tossed it back at James in retaliation, and soon Sirius found his own footing again, the matter forgotten until their battle was over, and they were all settled in before the common room fires. Peter listened raptly to James, who was telling a story from his childhood...Sirius had been listening too, but now he looked over and saw that Lupin had fallen asleep. He had curled all of his long limbs around himself, lying with his head on the armrest like a dog, and even in this peaceful state there was a shadow across his face, a faint furrowing of brows, something that whispered of hidden pain and bad dreams.
...
Was Sirius always seeing Lupin in pain?
Now that he thought of it, it seemed so often he spotted hidden grimances, tense shoulders, ways of holding a book bag so the strap didn't dig into the shoulder...and he always looked so tired, eyes bruised black, lips and cheeks so pale they looked bloodless…
Lupin wasn't always in the dormitory at night, wasn't always in class. Sometimes he simply wouldn't come to bed, sometimes for days at a time...did no one else notice this? Did no one else think of it as Sirius did? Where in the world was he going, on those nights when no one saw him leave?
Why did Sirius still think of him as 'Lupin', and not 'Remus'?
There was a wall of glass between Lupin and the other boys, nearly invisible but unmistakably there...he was separated from them.
Sirius didn't know if he should take it down or not.
But...he did know that he wanted to.
Winter turned to spring turned to the edges of summer- days spent in play and mischief, what do you mean, exams?- leaves began to bud on the trees, and the air smelled of rain. Scotland was bleak in such weather, but Sirius and James didn't care, this was the land of golden opportunity…
Sirius woke almost every night now at the witching hour, watching Lupin lie awake in bed, his eyes sometimes hollow and other times filled with tears, little crystals that darted down his damaged cheeks in the moonlight. This was so hard to watch that sometimes the desire to sit up and say something to him was overwhelming... let him know he wasn't alone in the night...but Sirius never did this. He felt there was some kind of magic holding him back- as though such hours were a spell, and if he spoke something would be broken irreversibly.
When his namesake began to bloom along the roadsides, Lupin disappeared for an entire week.
Sirius didn't comment at first- there was plenty of fun to be had without him, and of course this wasn't unusual, family trouble, he always said (whatever that meant)- but after three days he began to feel the other boy's absence. He wasn't sure if the others did as well, or as keenly- and one night in the common room he said so:
"Don't you guys ever wonder what happens to him when he goes away? Or where he goes, for that matter?"
"He says he goes home," Peter replied simply. He was holding a pumpkin pasty in both hands, nibbling at it like a mouse. "He has family trouble."
"I know," Sirius said dryly. James hadn't replied, but he looked thoughtful.
"Are you worried about him?" James asked after a moment, and Sirius only shrugged. He didn't know if there was a reasonable answer to that question...or an answer he could say out loud.
"Well, I'm sure he'd say something if it was an issue," James said reasonably. "We are his friends, after all."
Sirius nodded, letting the matter settle, but he wasn't entirely satisfied with the conclusion; they were Lupin's friends, weren't they? James was entirely right. So why did he always feel so far away…?
When Lupin returned, Sirius saw him first in Potions. They had been paired up to work, and Peter was too anxious to go at it alone, so he and James were at one cauldron and Sirius alone at another (there were uneven numbers, and he refused to join a group of three with any Slytherin). Lupin slipped into class while the professor's back was turned and, spotting the empty seat by Sirius, rushed over to join him. The little flash of relief Sirius always felt upon seeing the other boy again faded quickly at Lupin's appearance- his skin was blanched and gleaming with a thin sheen of sweat, and there was a tremor in his hands as he reached for his textbook, not looking Sirius in the eye. His lips were so dry they were bloody in places, and he fumbled with the pages, as though his fingers were too weak to turn them.
"Here," Sirius whispered, and he flipped the textbook open to the right page. "I'm about halfway done- start cutting the dandelion root, the professor won't notice you're late."
Lupin gave Sirius a small, grateful smile and moved to do as instructed- sure enough, the nearly retirement-age Potions professor seemed to take no notice of the new addition, and by the end of the period they had finished their Shrinking Solution to satisfaction, Sirius having whispered simple instructions in Lupin's ear to get him through without ruining it. Sirius doubted Lupin should have come to class at all, he was clearly sick- but then, perhaps he didn't want to miss so many classes, he was always absent due to one thing or another…
As the students filed out of the classroom Lupin stumbled a little in his step, leaning against one of the cool dungeon walls to catch himself and making the tiniest little sound, surely so quiet only Sirius heard it, a frail animal whimper... James and Peter stopped too, and the other boys gathered around, though Lupin's gaze turned shamefacedly to the floor.
"It's good to see you back," James said, and he raised one hand as though intending to pat Lupin's shoulder, but the motion was aborted before its completion. "Are you feeling alright…?"
"Just a little under the weather," Lupin replied roughly; no one seemed to believe this, except maybe Peter.
"You look like you have a fever," James began, and before Lupin could open his mouth to reply- in some strange moment between moments, when impulse took over rationality in Sirius' head, when the glass air around Lupin appeared to soften for less than an instant- Sirius reached out and took Lupin's arm, holding him up.
"I'll take you to the hospital wing," Sirius said simply. "There's no need to feel down, we're wizards- Madam Pomfrey will have you fixed up in a second."
Lupin didn't say anything in reply, but he let himself be ushered away; James and Peter retreated to the common room to save a seat for the group, and in a moment Sirius and Lupin were alone.
"I don't want to go to Madam Pomfrey," Lupin said quietly, his voice rasping slightly on the way out.
"Why not?" Sirius asked, and he stopped, letting Lupin brace himself once again on the wall.
"She doesn't want me here," Lupin said somewhat bitterly, in a voice impossibly quieter than before. He didn't quite look at Sirius as these words slipped out- instead, his head angled back, his eyes turning up to seek a sky that wasn't there. "...she doesn't approve."
"Oh," Sirius replied. The desire to repeat his earlier question- why not- was strong, but he held off. He felt like he was rubbing up against something very solid, something he was unlikely to be able to break...at least, not yet, anyway. He knew that if he tried, Lupin would pull further away behind his invisible glass wall, and that was the last thing Sirius wanted.
"What would you rather, then?" Sirius asked softly, and Lupin turned to him, surprised. The look on his face- of relief, why, of something near happiness- made Sirius' cheeks turn warm.
The compromise was thus: they separated, Sirius to sneak into the hospital wing to retrieve some first-aid tinctures and Lupin to settle himself in the out-of-order toilet on the third floor. The work was quick- Sirius had experience enough as a thief already, though it was only his first year- and before long Sirius was handing over the supplies to a weak and grateful-seeming Lupin, who gathered everything into his arms and then tried to close the door in Sirius' face.
"Hang on," Sirius said, pushing back with his palm. "Let me help."
"You don't have to," Lupin murmured, but he gave way as Sirius pushed again, more firmly than before. The door closed behind them, leaving them in solitude, only the echoes of the mildewed marble to keep them company. Lupin sat on the floor with trembling legs; he did so like it had become too difficult to continue standing.
"You're hurt, aren't you?" Sirius said, kneeling before the taller boy. Lupin pursed his lips, looking down at the floor, but he nodded. "Where?"
Lupin began to remove his robe (he had never been this forthcoming before, Sirius noted with some satisfaction). The act clearly caused him pain, he moved so stiffly...and when it was gone Sirius' stomach plummeted.
Lupin wasn't wearing the uniform button-down underneath his robe, and it was a good thing too, for those were white and of a fabric that would surely stick to open wounds.
And by God, did Lupin have wounds.
Sirius circled him, aghast. The majority of the damage was on his back and shoulders...thick red stripes were cut into him there, arching over pronounced shoulder blades, always three or four at once ... and there were bruises, blood beneath the skin, all along his too-visible spine and down his ribs, like he had been beaten. Sirius reached out to touch him- help, he had to help- and Lupin flinched away, curling his long neck down and folding his arms about his legs.
"I shouldn't have let you see," Lupin whispered. "I shouldn't…"
Sirius was already scrambling for the potions he had snatched from Madam Pomfrey's supplies; he knew what some of these did, he had had his share of scrapes as a child...here, this was the one…
Sirius unstoppered a vial labeled 'Dittany' and set about dropping the contents over the worst of the cuts, his own skin twinging in sympathy as Lupin's smoked, the wounds rushing to take the first steps to healing themselves. When he was done with this he offered Lupin another bottle with a fever cure, and he took a sip from it placidly, rolling his shoulder blades to test their movement.
"Thank you," Lupin said when this was done, beginning to gather his robe up again to put over his head. "This really helped."
Sirius nodded, and then couldn't hold it in any longer.
"Who did this to you?" Sirius hissed, the words tight with an impossible anger that had come upon him like a tidal wave, an anger he didn't fully understand. Lupin did not reply, only blinking those dark liquid eyes, as innocent as a deer…
"Is it your family?" Sirius began, and Lupin shook his head.
"No!" he squeaked, and Sirius thought he said it too quickly; the desire to curse something was very strong, why, why was he like this over Lupin, Lupin and never anyone else... Lupin rushed the black fabric over his head, hiding away the damage, damage that was far too much, more than Sirius had imagined...those tears in his skin, how ragged they had been, as though done by claws…
"I know you don't want to tell me," Sirius continued, and Lupin looked back down at the floor, ashamed. "But...but you can. My family, too, you know...I've talked about them before, you...you don't have to go it alone."
There was a pause in which Sirius didn't have the faintest clue what to expect- couldn't tell if the wall was thickening or shattering- and then Lupin met his eyes again and in that moment, impossibly, Sirius thought he saw reflected deep within them the cold and distant sphere of the moon.
"I'm sorry, Sirius," Lupin said softly. "But actually, I do."
Sirius and Lupin did not speak of what happened in the bathroom after that day, though Sirius felt mad for it; he couldn't get the image of those bloody stripes out of his mind, and every time Lupin cringed or flinched at a friendly touch or the scrape of his own book bag against his skin Sirius' insides turned bitter with rage. But there was nothing to be done. The wall was up with renewed ferocity, as though Lupin was compensating for letting Sirius in that one day...why, why, Sirius didn't know.
And there was little time to find out. In a week exams were upon them and studying became imperative; even if they all did well in class (well, Peter didn't, and desperately begged evenings away getting them to help him prepare) much work was needed to succeed into the next year. The days seemed to melt by, each resembling the other up until the end...and then they took their tests, and then it was all over, and Ravenclaw won House Cup and the air was thick with summer and everyone was getting packed, ready to go…
"Write to me," Sirius said to Lupin as they lay out on the grass by the lake under the sun. Such promises need not be extracted from James and Peter, who had already declared they would- but of Lupin, Sirius was never certain. "Tell me if it becomes too much."
"Alright," Lupin replied, and Sirius knew instantly that he was only agreeing to the first request, he saw so on that wry little smile upon the other boy's thin face.
"Oh, I'll get you out of that place if I can, Sirius," James chirped, blowing the seeds of a dandelion from his palm. "My parents have a spare bedroom…"
"Oh, please," Sirius said, and the afternoon went on as it often did, with James and Sirius supplying most of the conversation, and Peter laughing and agreeing to everything they said, and Lupin simply watching, his eyes half-lidded and the smile on his lips hollow.
And then, the year was over.
One year of Hogwarts down, how so, already? And only six to go…
Already, only six to go…
