The atmosphere was of new beginnings. Crowds of people were chattering- teenagers calling out to their friends, laughing, mothers crying after their children with last-minute reminders- owls hooted, screeched, cats called, toads belched- the bright red steam engine was smoking, water vapour spiraling dizzyingly up towards the blue September sky. Sirius took a deep breath of this, and grinned.

It was Regulus' first year, he was being fussed over by mummy, his hair slicked back and his eyes wide as he sought to take in the scene. There was no discussion of Sirius looking out for him (indeed, discussion of Sirius' school life was always hugely limited), no fatherly hand took his shoulder to tell him to watch over the baby Black. In fact, from the cool, watching stares Sirius had become accustomed to, it was the opposite that would be desirable. Regulus was a good boy- Sirius didn't need to go corrupting him with his rebellious Gryffindor tendencies. Did they still hope he would grow out of it, or were they setting their eyes on Regulus already, preparing the backup should Sirius never straighten out…?

(Sirius didn't know yet whether he included Regulus in his hatred of Slytherin and the Noble House of Black- it was hard to hate a baby, suck-up though he was.)

Sirius stood on tiptoe, one hand raised to his brow to block the worst of the light- looking, seeing some familiar faces, corridor passersby, but nothing more...then, Sirius spotted Remus Lupin.

The other boy was standing in a lonely corner away from the worst of the throng. He had grown some, perhaps, his hair was slightly longer...and there was a woman with him, dark-haired and thin and small, holding his forearms while speaking, her posture earnest and almost afraid.

Sirius looked back once at his family- he wasn't going to receive from them any lengthy, heartfelt goodbye- and with a lazy wave to them set out, alone again, a free electron drifting through space, before attaching himself to that pair and making it a trio.

Even though they had exchanged a modest number of letters over the summer, Lupin looked quite surprised to see him, and the woman even moreso.

"Hello?" she said before Lupin could open his mouth; Sirius saw then that her large, liquid eyes were quite like his. There was ample evidence to guess at her identity. "Do you need anything, dear?"

"I just came to say hello," Sirius said, holding out a hand. "I'm Sirius Black..."

"He's a friend, Mum," Lupin said quietly, and the woman's face did something then that was quite unexpected- it broke open into a wide, brilliant smile. An especially startling expression given that Sirius had never seen one like it cross the features of her son.

"Oh, yes, of course," and she shook his offer, still beaming. "Yes, Remus told me all about you! It's such a good thing, that you two are friends- that he has friends- yes, I suppose I should leave you two to get on then, hmm? No need to fuss too much, you know what you're doing-"

"Sirius!"

Orion's harsh voice interrupted her; the crowd had cleared, and Sirius saw the family he had left behind, his father beckoning to him imperiously. "Sirius, don't meddle with that."

Lupin's cheeks had turned faintly pink- as much of a blush as he could manage- but Mrs. Lupin didn't seem to understand:

"Oh, is that your family, dear? I should go over and say hello…"

"No, I don't know them," Sirius said sharply, refusing to look back in Orion's direction. "They probably mean someone else. C'mon, Lupin, let's get a seat on the train."

Lupin gave his mother one last hug- one last inaudible whispered assurance in her ear- and then they were off, passing by the last stragglers and heading for the train. From one of the windows partway along, James stuck out his wild head and waved to them:

"C'mon, slowpokes! I was looking for you!"

...and Sirius waved back, laughing.

But inside, before reaching the compartment, Sirius turned to Lupin briefly.

"Your mother, she's a Muggle, isn't she?" he asked, and Lupin nodded tightly. "And your dad?"

"Wizard," Lupin said softly.

"Pity," Sirius told him with a grin. "That'd piss my folks off even more."

Lupin smiled a little- the first one Sirius had seen him crack since last spring- and somehow the sight made Sirius' heart flip flop just a little inside his chest.

Then they joined James and Peter in their compartment, and the train set off.

September-

After much antsy back-and-forth and emotional encouragement (you'll do great, stop fretting, who cares if you make it or not, if you do you'll be one of the youngest players in a century…) James made Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. For this there was much applause and pumpkin juice toasts and excited cheers, but it meant that their friend was often missing on weekday evenings, especially as games came up on the schedule. Sirius had tried out too, of course, but his skills had been lackluster in comparison- no matter. In all honesty, flight wasn't the most thrilling thing to him, anyway.

All James' efforts were made worth it with the first match of the year- against Slytherin, how obscenely perfect, Sirius had gone out dressed in his house colours and waving a tremendous lion-faced flag- rub it in their faces, let them all see who he really was! There was such a satisfaction he found in spitting across the stadium…

And when James won, when the game came to a standstill in that moment of triumph, the bespeckled little Seeker holding aloft in his clutched fist the Golden Snitch- Sirius had never cheered so loudly, or so honestly, in his life.

October-

Lupin was able to attend the Halloween feast this year, though Sirius didn't think he much liked it; the dancing skeletons seemed to make him queasy, a fact that the group teased him good-naturedly about for some time after, each wishing they had enough skill to make a small skeleton toy jump and wriggle themselves.

"Did you ever go trick-or-treating, when you were little?" Lupin asked them absently in the second-year dormitory that night, but in response he received only blank stares.

"Is that a Muggle tradition?" James asked, and Lupin's lips curved into a surprised little smile (there was that flip-flop again).

"Yeah, you dress up as a monster and go from house to house to ask for candy," Lupin told them, fingers trailing absently over the embroidery on his quilt. Sirius tried to imagine his parents allowing him and Regulus to walk between Muggle houses, dressed up like ghouls...like common-folk...impossible. For a moment, his regular anger flashed inside him; another joyful tradition of which he had been deprived.

"Do you miss it?" Sirius asked Lupin. "I mean, you can't do it at Hogwarts, I guess."

"Oh, no," Lupin murmured airily, as though surprised by the question. "Even before first year, I hadn't done it in a while...my mother stopped me. I suppose she thought I would find some of the costumes upsetting."

"The skeletons?" Peter guffawed, and they all laughed at that, and Lupin smiled and turned his eyes down and Sirius knew somehow that that wasn't what he had meant at all.

November-

James had brought a packet of Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous No-Heat Wet-Start fireworks from home- contraband from the summer holidays, his father surely knew not that they were missing from the garden shed- and they made merry by tossing them into the cauldrons of Slytherins during Potions class while the professor's back was turned. Peter wasn't told the plan- he was too nervy, he would rat on them if a teacher beared down- and Lupin wasn't either simply because...well, because Lupin was the way he was. He was friendlier than he had been in first year, but there was still that disconnect... Sirius didn't really understand him, and he still had too many secrets (scars and disappearances and silent nights spent crying in the moonlight). When the explosions began Lupin just gave them a vaguely exasperated look- exasperated, but amused, it made Sirius want to throw harder, better, he wanted to be impressive- and retreated to a corner, claiming innocent eyes when later interrogated and, well, who wouldn't believe him?

It was great fun, watching the Slytherins get coated in their own grime, howling in uncontrolled and forceful laughter as their Alihotsy Draughts were sprayed through the dungeon air, accompanied by the colourful bursts of the fireworks...it really was the perfect cover, if James and Sirius were caught with their arms around their bellies and their faces red with mirth it was only because they had been splashed, too...but in the end, still, they were found out, and it was because Severus Snape (a particularly loathsome Slytherin second-year, in Sirius' opinion) had seen them taking aim. Why he alone was believed, when Sirius, James, and Lupin testified to their innocence, they didn't know, but whatever reason was surely unfair- Slytherins were always getting off- and Snape reminded Sirius of all the worst things in Slytherin House.

So in the end, James and Sirius were rewarded separate detentions with the ancient and timeless caretaker Argus Filch, and complaining about the injustice of it all was almost as fun as the prank itself had been, in a solidarity-forming kind of way.

(Though, Sirius was careful not to grouse too much- it was silly, but for some reason he didn't want Lupin in particular to think of him as a whiner.)

Sirius' detention was served on a Thursday late at night- late enough to make him grouchy waking for classes tomorrow, he was sure. His task: to polish every single object in the Hogwarts Trophy Room until it shone, without using magic. Toiling like a Muggle, like a beast...it almost put him in good spirits, imagining what his family might think, to see the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black sweating over the metal of other wizard's accomplishments, a polish-stained rag in one blistered hand...yes, thinking of his punishment in these terms made the whole thing bearable, more than bearable, almost sweet…

Sirius wasn't allowed to use magic for light, either, it was a no-wands event, and halfway through his trial the oil lamp Filch had left for him went out, and he hadn't a clue how to start it again. As such, he found himself setting up by the room's large window. The moon was almost full tonight, leaving plenty of light...it was strange to look out at the grounds under this pale white fire, everything looked so much harsher under the moon, a world inverted, a mirror-image of reality made sharp and cold and eerie, uncanny like the best kinds of nightmares…

(Lupine.)

Sirius startled in his seat, putting aside the trophy he was holding to lean against the windowsill, peering out across the grass. Figures were moving out there, figures he recognized- that white deaconess' headpiece surely belonged to Madam Pomfrey, and following at her heels was none other than Remus Lupin. He was out of bed- and at this hour, too- was this where he went, when he disappeared? Sirius knew it, knew he had been lying about 'family troubles', knew there was something going on here that was unexplained, secret, magical-

Sirius watched them go, hating for the first time his punishment, which prevented him from racing down the staircase and out the door after them. Not that he was likely to catch up, they were going so fast, and Lupin kept turning to look behind himself or up at the sky, like he was afraid of being seen.

The pair stopped by the Whomping Willow, a tree even Sirius and James dared not mess with, and from there Sirius couldn't quite see...though he strained every muscle in his eyes and neck, craning, reaching...after a moment, he realized they had disappeared, and how he hadn't a clue in the world.

Sirius finished his task in record time after that, energized by what he had seen, his hands shaking and his heart beating terribly fast with his excitement. The same question came again: why? Why was he like this?

Already, he couldn't wait for Lupin to come back.

December-

Christmas, cold and irritable, noble and most ancient his ass- the house was falling apart, and warmth from the fireplace barely permeated beyond it. Looking out the snow-washed windows Sirius vowed that next year he would stay behind at Hogwarts...beg any excuse...he couldn't bear it here, this suffocating and friendless atmosphere, the eyes that peered at him from around corners and behind curtains.

He often woke from dreams of labyrinthes made of ancient, twisted roots...dark passages through which moonlight barely shone...in these dreams, he was following someone, but he always woke before he could find out who.

January-

The start of second semester meant a burst of new colour; no one was in the mood to be studious after the holidays. Sirius and James used newfound Potions skills to slick the stairs heading down to the dungeons one evening- revenge against Severus Snape for tattling, teach him a lesson- him and a group of other Slytherin boys were caught in it on their way back to their common room, forced to writhe across the stone like serpents until their robes were coated in the stuff, which had been designed to smell vile…

There were a handful of injuries, it was reported, but nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn't take care of, and this time James and Sirius weren't caught.

Lupin surely knew they had done it- he had watched them leave the common room with bottles tucked into their robes, laying on one of the plush armchairs like a victim of consumption, his expression only faintly contemplative.

Perhaps it had been a mean-spirited trick, but Sirius didn't care. He had enjoyed it.

February-

Lupin disappeared and returned again; Sirius had made the mistake of falling asleep at night, and before he had known it Lupin was gone...vanished like the thrall of an old fairytale, snatched from his bed, spirited away... and Sirius had missed his chance. If Lupin had gone to the Willow or elsewhere, he didn't know, and he was put out about it until the other boy returned, diminished once more.

Sirius dabbed the Dittany gently over this month's set of wounds, and Lupin's trembling breath echoed against the cold marble of the abandoned bathroom. It was worse this time than it usually was, the curves of his spine were scoured with whiplike tears, and though he tried to hide this at first his wrists and thin white forearms were bloody with bites, fang-scars, like he had been mauled by a wild dog.

"Don't ask me to explain," Lupin had whispered in a shattered voice. "Please, please don't ask…"

So how could he? Even if the horror of this (of seeing it, of not knowing, and of not being able to stop it) was nearly unbearable, it would be worse to push Lupin away. And that teary look of relief Lupin gave him when he agreed- well, nothing felt as good as that. So Sirius swallowed his questions and wet his cloth, despite it all feeling almost content to be here, to feel Lupin's cold white skin under his fingertips.

March-

Now that he thought of it, it was true that Lupin's vanishings seemed marked by the calendar...once a month, every month, and nothing more.

That meant something. Surely that meant something...

The common room fire was bright and warm, the corresponding atmosphere lazy...the Gryffindor second-years sat about in a circle of armchairs, Sirius and James casually playing well-matched games of chess, Peter watching them with a frown as he tried to figure out the moves. But now it was becoming late; the light of an almost-full moon gleamed faintly through the curtains, shy competition for the fire. Dinner had been good (when was it not?) and eyelids were beginning to droop.

"I say call it a night," James said with a yawn, his arms raised to stretch above his head (the leader, so often was he). Everyone stood, brushing down robes and taking shuffling steps...all save Lupin, who did not seem so tired, who only raised his head like a curious animal, his posture tense. Sirius noticed all of this the way he always noticed Lupin, who was ever fixed in the corners of his eyes.

"I'll catch up," Lupin murmured as they began to head towards the staircase. "I have something I need to do…"

Sirius stopped, looking back- his heart was suddenly beating quickly. Was this it? Was this another of those nights? Lupin met his gaze, bolder than he usually was, and Sirius knew it must be, just as he knew he was not invited to come along. He didn't feel tired at all anymore, his mind was racing...Lupin couldn't slip away, not this time, not like he always did. Sirius wouldn't allow it.

"Goodnight, then," Sirius said to him, a farce; Lupin smiled and looked back at the ground, all of him curving away, back behind that wall of ice...no more.

Sirius followed the other boys back upstairs, but did not get undressed; he took his toiletries and pretended he was going to have a late night shower, and when this reality had been agreed upon (and James and Peter were on the borders of insensate, tucked safely away inside their beds) Sirius hid his bag in the bathroom and snuck back down the stairs.

Lupin was already gone.

Lightning-struck, Sirius darted to the Portrait-Hole, peeking his head out- he could see on the next flight of stairs Lupin and Madam Pomfrey, the pair walking briskly but quietly to the light of Pomfrey's wand. Sirius ducked down, his knees curling to his ears as he shuffled quietly after them, keeping his body below the line of the banister. He could hear Madam Pomfrey speaking, her voice a harsh murmur…

"...you can't leave it this long, what if it happened there…?"

Lupin's voice:

"I'm sorry- really, really sorry- they didn't want to go to bed…"

Pomfrey again:

"That's why this wasn't a good idea...I don't know what Dumbledore was thinking…"

Lupin fell quiet after that, and there was no more conversation. Their pace was rapid, and Sirius rushed to keep up, afraid all the while that he would be spotted, heard, found...in a handful of frantic heartbeats they were out on the grounds, and here clouds had fallen over the moon at least, leaving the night dark. Sirius guessed- prayed- at their destination and took off at an alternate route, running alongside the walls of the castle, past the Herbology greenhouses in a loop, curving back to that tree…

Sirius could see Pomfrey's white hat through the black, standing still, still, then turning around. Sirius bolted for the tree the moment she was barely out of earshot, but he hardly cared about her- where had Lupin gone?

For a moment, Sirius thought he had lost him- the air spun, it was too dark, he couldn't see- but then he realized that something was amiss with the Willow; with Sirius standing so close, the tree should have been rustling its branches in threat, but it was perfectly still. Sirius moved closer, within range, and still it didn't move- and then, there he saw it, a hole between the roots of the tree…

An entrance.

Sirius was just sliding between the branches as the Willow began to stir again, whatever magic kept it paralyzed did not last long, but this didn't matter- the earth closed over his head, swallowing him like Pinocchio's whale, and he entered another world.

He had a brief, momentary urge to call out to Lupin, but he suppressed it, more on instinct than any concrete thought. The air here did not echo as he breathed, he was surrounded by soil and muted stone, damn, it was so dark... thinking himself foolish, Sirius pulled out his wand and lit it, and what he saw turned his veins to fire.

A tunnel.

That's what this was- a passage. A connection, a vein, from one reality to another.

Feeling more than ever like the hero in a fairytale, Sirius took off, his wandlight bobbing before him, revealing twists and turns in the rock. It was a good thing he was not claustrophobic, in places the tunnel turned so narrow he had to squeeze, but he didn't give up...he began to run, the cold underground air tore at his lungs, and he didn't give up…

Sirius had never felt so wildly excited by anything, not even his best pranks with James. The thrill of perhaps being caught, and then of launching himself into some great unknown, it birthed a lightning storm in his belly, one that made his muscles contract, tense, he could hear his heartbeat like a drum rhythm and he felt as free as a bird.

How much further? The tunnel was so long, it felt so empty, how far ahead was Lupin? Had an hour passed, or more? Surely not more- Sirius couldn't stop running, he didn't have a clue what he was going to find at the end of this odyssey, and that made his excitement all the wilder.

Suddenly, an upward slope, a shift in the blackness before him. Sirius began to climb, not stairs so much as a slope, his wand pointed ever up...and before long he was nearly upon it, a roof to this slow ascent- a dead end?- no, when Sirius pushed against it he realized it was much more; a trapdoor.

Sirius raised himself out slowly, the light on the end of his wand shaking with his heartbeat for how hard his fingers were trembling. But it was easier to see in here, he was above ground again it seemed, for moonlight crept through the boarded up windows that lined the corridor he had arrived in.

Sirius stood carefully. This place looked like a house, though it seemed to be abandoned- perhaps, newly abandoned, for the furnishings bore not the faded wounds of time. Sirius poked his head in the nearest room, still faintly afraid of being caught (who's to say Lupin hadn't come here to meet with someone?), but it was empty. It was a strange sight- there was new furniture, a cozy armchair and a clean rug, a varnished coffee table- but these things had been tossed on their sides and mauled, the rug scoured, stuffing emerging from slits in the chair like viscera from a stomach wound.

The next room was much the same- in shambles, but freshly so, like the place had been attacked...but not by people, no, by animals, wild dogs or bears...if Sirius felt fear, it was only of the enjoyable kind. But where was Lupin? Not here, not there, not in the bathroom with the shattered mirror…

Sirius heard something then, from the floor above- a weighty thump, something falling, followed by low shuffles, scrapes... an object being dragged?...Sirius held his wand out before him as he climbed the wooden stairs, daring them to creak, praying for them not to...he was terrified, and simultaneously happier than he had ever been. He had never felt so uncontrollably alive.

The sounds were coming from the only closed door on the second floor and so, without even a moment's hesitation, Sirius pushed it open.

(There!)

The sight inside tore all breath from Sirius' lungs. This place was a bedroom, clearly, there was a bed, four-poster, large...disemboweled...in here the damage was the worst, even the walls were scoured with claw marks, the wood splintered like bone... and on the floor lay Lupin's clothing.

Sirius heard something take a terrible, shuddering breath, and then Lupin lifted his head from behind the far side of the bed (had he fallen, was that what had been heard-?), folding his arms upon the shredded comforter...bare arms and bare shoulders, white as snow, glowing in the brilliant moonlight that shone through the window…

Sirius tried to say something, but no sound came out. Lupin shuddered, his head thrown back, and he made a high, terrible keening sound, a sound of pure pain- Sirius wanted to take a step towards him, but he couldn't move. The cry broke, Lupin's fingers relaxed their deathgrip on the comforter, and when his eyes dropped back to Sirius they were unlike anything they had ever been before- yellow and burning like coals, surely a lightsource all their own, and worse than that- worse than anything- was that within them Sirius saw no recognition.

Where there should have been conscience, there was only hunger.

As Sirius watched, paralyzed, Lupin crawled all the way back onto the bed, a shocking sight- his nude body was trembling, limbs too contorted to move properly, twisting, changing, impossibly changing! His fingertips had sharpened into claws and there was hair somehow sprouting from his skin- no, not hair, fur, thin and fine and silver- and from behind darkening lips Lupin bared sharp, wet fangs, a low and inhuman growl cutting the air of the room to pieces.

The spell was broken, and Sirius backed out of the doorway, thundering down the steps on legs that had turned to gelatin. Behind him, Lupin let out a long, wild howl.

Not a dog that had made those marks on the walls, and not a bear either- it had been a wolf.

Down the corridor- into the trapdoor, slam it shut behind you, back through that long, twisting underground passage, crashing through the dark- run, don't stop, don't look back- the only sound a heartbeat so loud it eclipses the world…

Sirius scrambled out of the ingress between the roots of the Willow, his entire body soaked in frigid sweat and his lungs so desperate for air they burned. He only slowed enough to think once he was out of reach of the tree's angry branches, and there he collapsed upon the cool, damp grass, his eyes fixed to the pale face of the moon floating overhead.

He felt like a madman.

It took some time before Sirius felt he was capable of standing again. He was weak, his flight to and from that eerie hostel had exhausted him, and he tasted copper in the back of his throat. All his limbs were shaking like he was a newborn fawn...shaking like Lupin had been…

The word rose up out of the shadows in his mind, pressing against the thin wall of bone inside his forehead, beating him there in time with the throbbing of his heart in his temples. He could taste it on the back of his tongue, creeping up, making his teeth ache like he had just bitten into an ice lolly. He knew he should hold it in- surely it was a secret that should not be spoken out loud- but he just couldn't stop, from the moment he had slipped under the earth this truth had been coming for him, this word had been hovering in the moments ahead, waiting to crash into his mind like a tidal wave. Inevitable.

"Werewolf," Sirius whispered. The sound of it sent a thrill all the way down his spine.

Sirius knew he should be afraid- certainly, should be more afraid than he was, which was not at all. In a background kind of way, he knew he had been in danger back there, he just didn't feel it- he felt giddy, ecstatic even, the rush of adrenaline from his race yet to subside. So, that was it- the mystery solved at last, all those nights spent vanished, the cuts and scrapes and scars and strange, glowing, beautiful eyes.

"Werewolf," Sirius said again, just to familiarize himself with the feel of it. The thrill of the syllables was no less. Sirius sat up, looking back at the tree, and then at the sky- he couldn't say the time, but he guessed that midnight had just passed. There was still the bulk of the night ahead, and Lupin would spend it alone in that place, his howling unaccompanied and his hunger unabated.

Sirius couldn't go back there- no, he wouldn't, that was foolish. He didn't desire the consequences, and he knew very well what they were. Even if, in some terrible way, he wanted to…

No. Sirius was not an impatient person- he could wait. He could wait until Lupin came back.

In a few days, Lupin returned, just as Sirius had known he would. In the interim, Sirius had suddenly found himself taking great interest in astrological charts, peeking through the grand calendar of the year that was kept on a table in the library, with its beautiful moving symbols. Yes, all of Lupin's disappearances correlated precisely with the full moon (even one that had been over the Christmas holidays- a reason why Sirius hadn't seen). How could he have failed to realize it for so long? In retrospect, it was so obvious… if books on werewolves and lycanthropy weren't restricted to upper year students, Sirius would certainly have taken those out, too. He wanted to know everything there was to know...and as always, the nature of this obsession he did not stop to fully question.

Lupin looked decent upon his return- for his standards, anyway. Perhaps this cycle had been an easier one. Sirius smiled at him quite broadly when he appeared in the entrance to the dining hall, waving him over to a saved seat, but though Lupin returned the wave he seemed agitated when he sat.

"How is everyone?" Lupin asked, which was confusing- they were fine, they were the ones who were fine, how was he- and so for some time conversation was filled up with James complaining about the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, which he did in a very witty way, thoroughly entertaining them all.

"You must be happy about exams," Sirius said to Lupin as the group began to gather themselves up from the table. Lupin looked at him blankly, and Sirius couldn't help but grin- that wild feeling in his stomach, he felt it again, like he was mad. "I mean, you know... the next one is during summer break, so you won't have to deal with it while studying."

Lupin blanched to a colour remarkably like Muggle printing parchment- he did not blush, as Sirius had half-expected (hoped?) he would do. In fact, he looked suddenly like he was going to cry- Sirius hadn't intended that- Peter clearly didn't notice, saying something to James, but the bespeckled boy looked between his two companions, something like curiosity on his face, so Sirius took Lupin by the arm and began to lead him away.

"We'll catch up with you guys," Sirius called behind him with a wave, and no more excuses were made.

"I thought I dreamt it," Lupin whispered when they were out of the dining hall; Sirius was leading them to the third floor bathroom on autopilot, the closest safe place. "I didn't think you were actually there- oh, oh God, Sirius, you were actually there…"

Sirius closed the door to the bathroom behind them, and by then Lupin actually was crying, which Sirius thought he did more gracefully than the average girl.

"So you do remember me," Sirius said, going for jaunty but coming out lame, because Lupin now looked like he was on the verge of hyperventilating, one hand clutching his robe at his chest.

"Yes, I remember," Lupin hissed. " How did you follow me? Why? Sirius, I could have killed you, you could have died-!"

Sirius took Lupin by the shoulders, steadying him gently, mindful of the scratches that were likely there. The taller boy was shaking terribly, and he felt as weak as an autumn leaf, his words dissolving into choked sobbing noises as it became the front of Sirius' cloak that he clutched instead.

"I wasn't afraid," Sirius told him, still trying to smile. "I'm not afraid. I'm not going to tell on you, you know, I…"

What else could he say? I liked it? That was too much, that would come out wrong. I don't mind? That sounded like there was something to 'mind', and for Sirius that simply wasn't true. In the end, he opted for a hug, even though this too felt strange- Sirius had never touched Lupin like this, it had always been at a distance, even when he was wounded and at his most vulnerable. But it seemed to be the right thing- in fact, the moment they touched Sirius knew it was the right thing, was perhaps one of the best things in the world. It was like the earth's plates shifted beneath their feet, like the sky changed...yes, wrapping his arms around Lupin's waist and feeling those cold tears press against his cheek, hearing the sobs come unrestrained at last...it was the like the air between them had truly softened for the very first time.

Finally.

"I'm so sorry," Remus whispered senselessly, like he had to Madam Pomfrey; Sirius hushed him.

"Don't. I meant what I said before, you know...you don't have to go it alone."

The year was over again before he knew it. Sirius felt like he turned his head to look out the window and found, to his surprise, that summer had taken over the world in full- that he had already taken all of his tests, and packed all of his bags, and the dusty smell of the landing in Grimmauld Place was hovering before him, almost within reach, soon to engulf him entirely…

The weeks until then had whittled down to days, down to hours, and Sirius was on the train in a compartment with his best friends, playing Exploding Snap with James while Peter cheered, and Lupin leaned lazily against the window at Sirius' side, scarred cheek pressed to the glass, half asleep...dozing the way a wolf did in the heat of the afternoon sun.

(Your secret is safe with me.)

Had it all happened too fast, again? Two down, five to go- God, Sirius didn't want to go back- the year was over, five to go...