The lights of the little boats sending the first years across the lake sparkled like fireflies- it had been so long since Sirius had been in one such boat, and simultaneously no time at all. The night air of September was cool and fresh, blowing back the hair he had begun to grow long...behind him lay Grimmauld Place, his family's expectations, the judgement and thinly-veiled dislike and the cane he was becoming too old for- ahead was the school, trouble, fun, life, the place where was kept everything he actually cared about.

(He felt reborn, like a moth emerging from a chrysalis- he had grown taller over the summer. He hoped it would be noticed, at least by one particular person.)

Waiting for him at the carriages were his friends- James and Peter and Remus, and as he waved to them Sirius felt he was returning home again.

"How was the summer?" Sirius asked Remus that evening, when they were all settled into their comfy chairs, watching the new first years wander about, wide-eyed and lamblike. He had exchanged correspondence with Remus over the course of the summer, naturally, but it was different seeing him in person. Sirius knew that the full moon had taken place less than a week prior to the first day of classes- indeed, he had spent the whole summer closely monitoring astrological charts at Grimmauld Place, taking note of every dip and swell...on the nights when the moon was fat in the sky, Sirius had often spent hours looking up at it through moth-eaten curtains, and wondering helplessly how Remus was, where he was, what he was feeling…

"More or less the same," Remus told him, dark eyes blinking lazily in the heat of the fire. "My family doesn't travel much, so…"

"I went to Spain with my parents," James said, and they all groaned at him, because they already knew; he had sent them all a letter a week for the duration (long letters, too). "The food there is so good."

James had a million and one summer adventures to tell them of, and so they all settled in comfortably to listen, enjoying those blissful hours when they had the castle to themselves but no homework, no responsibilities…

Sirius supposed that the latest cycle hadn't been too bad- Remus looked as comfortable as he usually was, at least. He itched to talk about it more- to ask for all the details and return to that bathroom where they were alone, dab whatever wounds there were- but all that could wait. The year, after all, was only just beginning.

Sirius was in third year now, and that brought with it special privileges- the most important of which was, of course, the ability to visit the wizarding village of Hogsmeade. Sirius was thrilled- a chance to get about in a wizarding community without his family, without the pressure of that separation the Blacks put upon themselves, always acting like they were better than everyone else…passing through the crowd like a knife in cold water, the eyes of regular wizarding citizens always turning away. Sirius would be free of that in Hogsmeade- he would be a normal student, just like any other, eager to visit the shops and the restaurants with his friends.

The first trip came in early October, a good week before the first full moon (yes, Sirius still checked that obsessively, how could he not- Remus' hidden nature was a secret shared between the two of them, and though it often went unspoken Sirius felt a certain responsibility for it). This made the thought of the coming trip even more exciting.

The day of the trip the weather dawned bright and sunny, warm but with a breeze to cut through the heat- perfect for travelling. The walk down to the village was surely long, but it didn't feel like it- lively conversation marked their path, and even the Gryffindor girls joined in chatting, which seemed to please James.

The town itself, when they arrived, was like a Muggle theme park- all the shops had thrown their doors open and girdled their loins in preparation for the influx of students from the school, and it was a good thing too- given the size of the place, Sirius doubted that most of the speciality shops (the sweet and joke stores especially) could have survived without tourism from the school. Well, Sirius had it in him to be a good patron, didn't he?

Everyone filled their pockets with novelties; Peter liked Honeydukes the best, purchasing one of everything to try (save the more unusual items- blood lollies and cockroach cluster), while Sirius and James admired the wares of Zonko's, which spurred their imaginations with images of new tricks. Most of the stuff there was quite tame- generally intended to make the victim laugh as well as the perpetrator, or at worst to be mildly annoying- but Sirius supposed they could make a few modifications when it came to the Slytherins. Remus, for his part- ever so demure, so responsible- purchased some new stationery for school, given that he'd struggled to make it to Diagon Alley in August.

For lunch, everyone crowded into the Three Broomsticks, ordering hefty kidney pies and beef stew and even butterbeer, though the weather outside was warm.

"You have to try this, it's magical, " James called across the room at the Gryffindor girls, holding up his tankard. Lily Evans blushed, but smiled at him, and lifted her own cup shyly to match. Sirius elbowed James in the ribs, and that was that.

In the afternoon, the weather was too nice to continue being cooped up in crowded shops- Sirius and James hadn't been designed for such kinds of 'fun', anyway. Still full to the brim the group made their way lazily out of the town center, meandering along a rough dirt path that trailed through woods and patches of still-flowering grass, calmly progressing towards the mountains of northern Scotland.

Turning a corner, they found a house tucked behind some evergreens- small and squat and a little strange, for the windows and doors were boarded up; Sirius was reminded vaguely of the beastly house of Baba Yaga, which marched around on chicken's legs.

"Oops," said Peter, who was ditzy with the butterbeer. "I guess somebody lives here."

"What do you mean, nobody lives there," James returned. "It's obviously been abandoned- look at it, we must be the first people up here in a while."

Sirius leaned over the fence and turned absently to Remus, who had become very pale. He did not say anything, his eyes darting back and forth across the homestead with an expression of growing terror-

-oh, the windows were boarded up-

-and Sirius suddenly understood.

"Hey," he whispered, scooching closer to Remus, who only met his gaze after a moment. "Is that…?"

A tiny, almost imperceptible nod. Remus looked ashamed, but Sirius grinned, turning back to the house for a moment. It looked larger on the inside, he thought with no small amount of pride. He studied it for a moment, considering- but James was right, it didn't seem like there was any way to get in or out from here- the tunnel was the only way, without employing some particularly destructive magicks.

"Let's go," Remus said suddenly, and his voice sounded very cold. "This is a terrible place."

He turned on his heel and strode back the way they had come, and everyone had to rush to catch up. Sirius felt bad- he wanted to say something- but there was no opportunity in front of the others. James, in particular, watched Remus' back, quiet for once, the look on his face contemplative- perhaps, even concerned.

But by the time they were back in Hogsmeade-central the air had cleared, and everyone was distracted by last-minute returns to the sweetshop, and by the time the third years were being shuffled back up the path to Hogwarts the matter seemed largely forgotten.

The fire in the common room was bright and warm, the Halloween festivities finished at last; everyone lay about on the rugs or chairs, bellies full of warmed pumpkin juice and candy from the feast, eyes still spinning from the incredible visual display that had been put on in celebration this year.

Remus had fallen asleep by the fire, and Sirius watched him- he had this strange desire, one he surely couldn't fulfill, perhaps couldn't even put name to...for some reason, it felt illicit, like something one dreaded to see when spying through keyholes in dark hallways, but all he wanted was for Remus to sleep next to him... head on his lap, perhaps, where Sirius could stroke his thin brown hair, wipe away the furrowing of his brows that always appeared when he was sleeping, as though he couldn't do the act but for bad dreams.

"Something's up with him," James said sleepily from beside Sirius, and the reverie was broken; surprised, Sirius turned to his friend, not quite understanding, and James jerked his chin towards Remus. "I mean...don't you think? There's something...I just don't know…"

...but Sirius said nothing to this.

The date of the second Hogsmeade trip was in November- and this time, it landed squarely in the middle of the full moon. When Remus saw the posting his face showed his disappointment for only a second, and then it was gone, caged away behind a front of mild curiosity. The sight put Sirius out terribly, though he tried to play his part as well- of course, it couldn't be made obvious that Remus wouldn't be able to go, he always had to pretend his 'family troubles' were a sudden emergency... the unfairness of it really struck Sirius for the first time, then, realizing that not only did he have to suffer for his illness he also had to hide it, deny help, shoulder all of the burden alone...

Two nights before the trip, Remus rose from bed while everyone else was beginning to fall asleep, folding his blankets quietly in preparation to slip away. Sirius, who had trained himself, woke to the sounds of these subdued motions and padded silently after Remus down the stairs to the common room.

Remus was at the Portrait Hole, pulling a cloak about his thin shoulders, and when he saw Sirius there his eyes widened, expression sharpening slightly.

"You can't," he hissed as Sirius made his way over. "This isn't a joke, Sirius-"

"I won't follow you, I promise," Sirius assured him, swiping his hair out of his eyes (it really was getting unacceptably long, now). "I just wanted to see you off."

Remus blinked at this- once, twice, completely caught off guard- and Sirius smiled (a little awkward, always, and only around Remus), pulling him into a quick embrace. For a second, Sirius' face met the crook of Remus' neck- cold skin, but still soft, he smelled like pine needles and something wild- but then they were apart, Sirius hoping his shuddering heartbeat showed nowhere on his face.

"Take care," Sirius said, and Remus closed his mouth with a little click, nodding once.

Then he was out the Portrait Hole, gone- vanished like mist in the morning, leaving no trace but the memory. Sirius' chest suddenly ached. For a long while, he stood there in the darkness, thinking of nothing, like his head too was filled by the bright face of the moon outside...he supposed he was being silly, then, and turned back to climb the stairs to the dormitory, to rejoin the sleepers there, in a world that was safe and sane and entirely human, even if Sirius would have preferred it not to be.

"Pity Remus had to go home again," James said as the trio made their way out of the castle on the second Hogsmeade trip. "If that's where he's going."

Sirius shot James a sharp look, one that Peter didn't catch; the smaller boy, who huffed to keep up with James and Sirius' longer legs, said simply:

"Oh, well, it's his mother, isn't it? I'd go home if it were my mother..."

Sirius hummed, as though to agree, and James said nothing more- if Sirius had to guess, he wasn't convinced. Well, Sirius hadn't been, either.

The day at Hogsmeade began just like its preterite- crowded stores filling their coffers on the emptying pockets of students, cheerful voices, bangs of smoke and sparks from wands in Zonko's...a hearty meal from the pub. In the afternoon the sky clouded over, murmuring a faint promise of rain- but though others could be seen darting nervously from shop to shop, eyes on the sky, Sirius barely noticed. He had a destination in mind- one that, if he could not reach by night, he was determined to reach now.

"I could use a walk," Sirius told his friends, pretending at nonchalance. "Why don't we go find that creepy old house again?"

James agreed- as though inclement weather had ever stopped him from an adventure- and of course Peter came too, how could he not?

By the time they reached the house (hidden as it was behind the evergreens, Sirius had been afraid they wouldn't find it again, that it really had stood on its own power and walked away somewhere) the promise had become a pressing reality, the sky just beginning to spit its wares upon them and the clouds coiling anxiously in the air. Wind whipped Sirius' hair in his eyes- a disadvantage of the length, though that wouldn't convince him to cut it- and he leaned over the fence before the shut-away little house, breathless. Was Remus asleep in there, curled on the tattered rug like someone's childhood pet, or was he awake? Could he hear them? Did he know they were there..?

"You wanna break in?" James asked mischievously, sitting on one of the fence posts. At Sirius' shocked look, he frowned. "I figured that's why you wanted to come," he added.

Sirius opened his mouth, but there was a delay- how could he explain why he had wanted to come, without giving too much away? How could he possibly put to words the truth, that heat in his chest when he thought of this place and who was in there and what it meant... he didn't understand these feelings when they were inside, so it was impossible to put them out. Perhaps this venture had been foolish, unforgivably so, they couldn't go inside...could they?

But before Sirius could decide on the syllables to leave his mouth they were interrupted.

"Hey!"

The group turned back to the faded dirt road upon which they had approached- coming along it now were a group of Hogwarts students in Slytherin colours, and in the lead- the voice who had called out- was Sirius' cousin Bellatrix, her dark hair whipped about her face by the incoming storm, her eyes glinting from across the yard.

This was Bellatrix's last year at Hogwarts- Sirius knew this much about her, and little else, other than that in his mind she was incredibly unpleasant. Vague, muddled childhood memories of holiday gatherings came to him- always indistinct in that place, always hazed by slight layers of disquiet and even pain, if he had been beaten beforehand- and in them he saw her face from across the room, saying things he could not remember, grinning with dirty teeth…

"Sirius Black," Bellatrix continued, closing the distance between them with loose, swaying strides. "Sirius Black, the Gryffindor."

"What are you doing here?" Sirius snapped, hostile already, even though she hadn't done anything; James hopped down from the post to stand beside him. Bellatrix held up her hands, a false proclamation of innocence, her eyes as wide and vacant as a doe's.

"I'm just exploring," she said loudly. "Like you. You don't need to be a Gryffindor to do that- what's up with this place, anyway?"

She leaned casually over the fence, her hair almost reaching the mud on the other side of it, and Sirius felt more than his usual rage suddenly pop into being within his chest. Bellatrix was intruding on something precious here, standing too close to a sacred place- or at least, that was how it felt to him, and this violation compounded with his usual anger at anything related to his family. It bubbled like acid in his stomach- the beginning of something dangerous.

"Fuck off," Sirius growled, taking another step towards her. "You're not welcome here, Slytherin bitc-"

-but he didn't finish, the word was cut to silence as Bellatrix pulled her wand to attention at Sirius' throat, the motion too quick for him to see. Somehow, he didn't care- in that moment, he wasn't afraid of her at all, only angry. He almost wanted her to hex him- yes, let her give him her worst, and watch him prove that she was nothing to him, that she could do nothing-

"Go on like this, Sirius, and someone's going to kill you," Bellatrix whispered, and her eyes looked like points of fire in her skull, burning and blinding and barely restrained.

Mad.

"You wish," Sirius replied, and his voice was as cold as ice.

For a long moment, this tension was held, irreversible- the world practically vibrated, gravity dissolving and re-centralizing around Sirius and Bellatrix and the point on his throat where her wand pressed. Everyone else stood agape, paralyzed- how could they not watch, this was the center of the universe- and just then, in Bellatrix's eyes Sirius thought he saw it: the killing intent.

Then, the world exploded.

Within the moment it was indescribable, cacophony, a sudden whirling and rending of it all- as though this was the apocalypse, and nothing made sense any more, not even the cardinal directions- but after, Sirius was able to categorize all the sounds and sensations, placing them back in their proper contexts and making sense of the inferno.

What had happened was this: the rain in the sky broke at last, a sudden torrent, and it was accompanied in the same instant by a terrible series of sounds emitting from the little wooden house behind the students. Wood splintered, ripped, and screamed, like the heart of the building was being wrenched apart by giant, invisible hands- there came thuds and scrapes, as though heavy objects were being tossed about- and worse than all of this, a cry rose from within it, poisoning the air, a cry long and broken and wholly inhuman. Sirius' hair raised on his arms, on the back of his neck- for the duration of that terrible wail he felt a kind of electric terror he had never experienced before, like he was caught in a fork of lightning.

Bellatrix released him and the Slytherins turned tail, back the way they had come- for once, Sirius didn't feel the urge to mock them for it, as in that instant everyone had become familiarized with ancient instincts, those that told the monkey to run when it was faced down by the leopard...or by the wolf.

The sound petered out after a few long moments, ending on a low, sad note, and then the house crashed once more before falling silent. The three Gryffindor boys stood there, gasping in the quiet, their hands tightened into fists and eyes wide as the rain slowly soaked into their robes.

"What was that?" James choked after a minute, and Sirius just shook his head.

"Do you think it's a ghost?" Peter whimpered, and when Sirius glanced at him he saw the smaller boy was trembling all over.

"Yeah, a ghost," Sirius managed, relieved that the suggestion had been made for him. "Probably. We should go."

Peter needed no encouragement, taking off down the road after the Slytherins- but when Sirius hesitated, looking back at the house, James did too. It didn't seem right to leave things this way- he had some notion that he should thank Remus, or maybe apologize to him- but he couldn't get into that house to do so, not without doing irreversible damage.

"We should go," Sirius said again, and then they were off.

Later, when everyone was back at Hogwarts, Peter wanted to tell of their adventure with the haunted house, but Sirius discouraged him. It seemed disrespectful...and besides, rational or not, Sirius found he didn't want everyone knowing about that place. He didn't want that eerie howl touching just anyone's ear…

(Jealous? Don't be absurd. That doesn't make any sense at all.)

Remus returned a few days later, nursing obvious aches and pains and eyes freshly bruised black with exhaustion. He settled himself very gingerly at the table in the common room, frowning as he remembered what duties awaited him- a thirty-inch paper for Professor Binns being one. Sirius scooched his chair closer with a grin, and pulled something from his pocket- a healthy-sized bar of Honeydukes' finest milk chocolate, simple and plain. Remus' favourite.

"Since you couldn't come this time," Sirius said to him, and Lupin gave him a wide-eyed look that slowly melted into a shy kind of smile.

(Sirius' heartbeat picked up, his entire body melted- he was helpless before that smile.)

"Thank you," Remus murmured. He unwrapped it carefully and broke a piece off to put in his mouth, slipping the sweet past white lips, past that thin silver scar- but Sirius was watching too closely. He turned away, running a hand through his hair, and heard Remus take and release a deep breath, as though fortifying himself, and when Sirius supposed it safe to look back again Remus was sitting a little taller, his eyes a little brighter, his facade back in place.

"So, how was the trip?" he asked with deliberate cheer- God, Sirius hoped Peter wouldn't start talking about the 'haunted house'- but it was James who replied, as he usually did.

"Oh, good," he said, and his tone was almost... calculating, a word Sirius normally would not have associated with him. "We got rained on. Pity you weren't there though, right?"

Remus looked up at him, his eyes strange and pale, and Sirius watched as his two closest friends held each other's gaze, his own flipping back and forth like a spectator at a Muggle tennis match.

"You're right," Remus murmured, and he broke first, dropping his gaze back to his paper. "I wasn't there."

Before long Christmas was upon them- true to his word, Sirius chose to stay behind, sending a curt letter to his family with a perfunctory lie about catching up on late work...whether they believed him or not, he didn't care, and he turned away from the crowds of people heading home, one of whom was surely Regulus, who was happier in Grimmauld Place than Sirius ever could be.

Sirius' friends went home too, and he didn't begrudge them this- James and Peter both had warm home lives, and Remus obviously had to go… 'family troubles' was what he said officially, during the day, and at night by the common fire alone he had murmured the truth to Sirius, who had felt hot with the thrill of being a confidente, of Remus sitting comfortably so nearby.

"It's for my safety, I guess...my mother would have a heart attack if I didn't come home, she's always worried about me…"

"Do they have something set up for you there, like the house in Hogsmeade?' Sirius asked in reply, and Lupin gave him a terrible little smile, one overfull with shame.

"Sort of," he replied. "They lock me in the basement- Father puts up some very powerful entrapment spells...it's a lot smaller than the house, so I tend to…"

He trailed off and, suddenly overcome and irrational, Sirius took his hand. The flash of contact startled them both, it seemed, and Remus' cheeks coloured ever so faintly, and Sirius suddenly felt like he was going to explode.

"...hurt yourself more?" he whispered, and after a moment Remus nodded. The pain of that was almost too much, Sirius tightened his grip as though this could fix anything, as though he could help, fix it, save him, God, Sirius wished he could save him-

-but Remus had gone cold, the wall of glass coming up behind his eyes, and he had left then, left Sirius clutching the air and sick to his stomach and suddenly terribly, achingly lonely.

But, despite this parting, the weeks spent alone in the castle passed quite well- the only others who had stayed behind were a handful of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, so Sirius had the common room to himself. Though it was lonely, he surprised the remaining professors by staying out of trouble- indeed, he spent all of his time in the library, taking out book after book on non-human magical creatures and diseases...

There, in between dusty pages of mildewed volumes, Sirius learned many things.

For one, his understanding of the wizarding community's attitude towards werewolves increased dramatically. Most references to the condition were derogatory in nature, if not outright discriminatory; it was a little sickening, that werewolves weren't considered human in magical treatises. Indeed, by common standard Remus was not a boy but a beast, something to be shunned to the dark woods at night...but Sirius had never seen Remus behave monstrously (save that night when he had followed him down the tunnel- and then he had been in pain and probably thoroughly surprised to find himself with company) and so the thought that he must be so 'naturally' came across as entirely foreign. If the people who had written these things were to meet him, see how sweet and respectable he was...but they probably wouldn't give him a chance. Sirius couldn't help but wonder if werewolves always went off into the woods to live by themselves because that's where the wizards deigned they should go, instead of the other way around…

But there was some useful information to be gleaned as well. Sirius learned that werewolves did not, in fact, harm themselves during the full moon as a matter of course...that only happened when they were young and entirely isolated, left with neither human prey nor fellow packmates to support them.

(Sirius had a terribly selfish hope that Remus wouldn't want to live in the woods when he was older- wouldn't want to find one of these 'packs' to comfort him during the full moon, away from where Sirius could reach. There was that jealousy again- he was a fool.)

The stages of transformation, the effects of the pull of the moon on werewolf moods and physiology...such scientific descriptions fascinated Sirius the most, made him feel warm inside, made his heart beat faster and little lightning storms gather in his stomach...it was like he had the key to Remus here, in his hands. All the fragments he had collected came together- the scars, the sickness, the flashing of his eyes in the firelight…

And here, it said that werewolves were no danger to other, natural animals- even centaurs they wouldn't attack unless provoked, their instincts demanded they hunt humans, nothing more. Should Sirius be afraid of this? Perhaps, but he didn't, not in the slightest, and he had no desire to change that.

Werewolves were no danger to animals...werewolves were happiest when part of a pack...no danger to animals…

Something stirred in the back of Sirius' mind, a memory of a memory, these thin threads winding together and coagulating into knots, like he knew something, like these pieces could mean more when together- what? Why did this catch his eye more than anything? Why did his heart rise, where did that excitement come from, filling him so slowly as his understanding broadened, like an offer, like something he could give...he wanted to go to that shack, he wanted to be with Remus when it happened, he wanted to watch more than anything in the world- save, of course, than that he wanted to help.

On New Year's day, with a week remaining until the other students returned, a word struck Sirius like a lightning bolt.

He sat up in his chair in the library, his back straight and his eyes wide- seeing not the pages before him, but an image in his mind, four syllables and red hot on the inside of his skull.

Sirius pushed his chair back in a rush and went back to the stacks- this time, his keyword was not 'lycanthropy', but rather 'animagus'.

When everyone came back from the holidays, Sirius kept his idea to himself. Perhaps it was silly, but he wanted to make it a surprise if he could- and besides, what exactly could he say he was thinking? Some wild, abnormal fantasy of a very difficult and uncommon practice of magic, an idea of the future that might never come to bear fruit- insubstantial things, nothing more. He had a feeling Remus would even shut him down if he brought it up, and he didn't want that.

A week after the winter term began, the moon was full again, and Remus was gone before bed, slipping away after dinner. The silence in the dorm room as the other boys undressed and settled was tense- James kept looking surreptitiously out the window, both at the sky and down to the grounds, and Sirius didn't really want him to.

Midnight burned bright for Sirius, even after everyone else had fallen asleep. He felt like his chest was connected to a thread that stretched out of the room and across the sky, pulled taught through the branches of the Willow and all the way through that tunnel to the shack, where it was tied to Lupin's sad, tired eyes...though by now he surely wouldn't look either of those things. Like this, Sirius couldn't sleep even if he wanted to, he was too aware of the thread- so thin and insubstantial, invisible, but completely undeniable- and how it pulled him taut, how he wished he could move closer to the window, create even the slightest bit of slack...but he knew that wouldn't help. He knew where he really wanted to be, and that was forbidden to him.

He was, after all, still human.

When Remus returned Sirius met him in the library and, neither needing to say anything to make it so, they moved gracelessly to the closed toilet on the third floor. It seemed this month had been difficult- Remus looked seriously unwell, his eyes half-lidded and his posture slouched, as though it was painful to stay upright. Once inside the bathroom he sank on watery legs to the floor, his body folding in on itself like a puppet with cut strings, and Sirius felt some very strong emotions he didn't fully understand at the sight.

"Was it bad?" he murmured needlessly, just for the sake of talking- Remus nodded, his eyes sliding sweetly closed, God, Sirius felt like he was burning…

"Settle in," Sirius told him, taking off his red-and-gold scarf and setting it up as a pillow between the cool marble and Remus' head. "I'll run to the hospital wing, you just rest…"

But as he stood the door to the bathroom opened- a complete shock, for such a thing had never happened before. And yet there in the frame, letting the hinges slide so carefully shut behind him, was James.

The atmosphere was strange- no, wrong, it was all wrong, and Sirius' tongue dried to ash in his mouth. The way James was standing there, his shoulders tight and confrontational, looking back and forth between them...Sirius glanced back at Remus, and found horribly that his eyes had fallen open again, and were glowing.

"I thought so," James said softly, seemingly to himself. "I thought that you two…"

He shook his head, and Sirius tried to open his mouth enough to speak- but he found he hadn't a clue what he could possibly say. James beat him to it, anyway:

"How long have you known?" he asked, his voice almost bitter, looking Sirius sharply in the eye.

"Known what, exactly-"

(...but he could only mean one thing.)

"That Remus is a werewolf," James said coldly.

Silence fell across the room. Remus' eyes closed and his head fell slightly, a defeated kind of bow. Sirius' jaw opened and shut a few times in quick succession, but he was helpless- if it were anyone else he might have lied, and found it easy to lie, to posture outrage and send the stranger spinning out of here at the insult...but this was James, and so he couldn't.

"...that's right, isn't it?" James continued, and now he sounded uncertain, as though the silence had disarmed him. Remus nodded, and he looked terribly small, like all the presence had been sucked out of him, like he had suddenly shrunk- Sirius felt angry with himself, he should be a better protector, a knight, but he was so pathetically feeble at the sight of that hardness in James' eyes…

"I thought so," James murmured and, clenching his talented hands, he stepped closer to the center of the bathroom. "I figured, that was the only thing that really made sense...you know, you always look like shit, Remus. And every time you leave it's the full moon...like clockwork."

Remus murmured something no one could hear, every part of him still impossibly tiny, like a broken thing.

"What was that?" James asked, and Sirius almost wanted to snap at him.

"I'm sorry," Remus said softly.

"Yeah, you should be," James replied, taking another step towards Remus; Sirius almost blocked him, the move hasty and abortive, but he didn't make it all the way; he couldn't stand this- these were the people he cared for most in the world, and they were falling to pieces in his hands. "...why didn't you say?"

"Why?" Remus began, his eyes wide and almost inhuman, the syllable clawing his throat on the way out.

"You didn't trust me?" James continued, interrupting, frustrated- another step again, he kept getting closer to where Remus was curled on the floor- this wasn't how someone would act if they were disgusted or afraid, if they were standing before a monster...

"...I thought we were friends…"

"Aren't you upset?" Remus whispered. Sirius didn't understand.

"Of course I'm upset," said James, and then he sat down on the marble floor before Remus without any reservation, putting their eyes on the same level at last. "I thought we were close- thought you'd tell me. If it was your family, that's one thing- maybe not your secret to tell- but this...you've been miserable all this time and you didn't tell us. Or at least-"

-here, he jerked his head in Sirius' direction-

"-you didn't tell me. Why's he so special, anyway?"

Sirius suddenly laughed, and the sound seemed to surprise everyone, but especially Remus, who still looked like he wanted to crawl out of his own skin and disappear. Sirius strode over and sat beside them, so that all three boys formed a close-knit little triangle, their knees almost touching.

"He didn't tell me either," Sirius said quietly, when his laughter had died down. "I followed him when he was sneaking out one night, and then he had no choice."

James harrumphed and shoved Sirius' shoulder, and the relief flowing through his veins surely was incomparable to whatever Remus felt, because the taller boy looked like he was trying very hard not to cry.

"You're not afraid?" Remus mumbled, another question much like the last, and though James looked uneasy at the question he shrugged.

"...should I be? I mean...to be honest, you seem pretty harmless. And he trusts you, so."

The punctuated word was marked by a thumb in Sirius' direction, Sirius who was starting to grin like a loon even though James still looked some cross between righteously angry and uncomfortable and Remus' cheeks kept blushing and blanching in rapid turns.

"I do trust him," Sirius told James simply, and he put a hand gently on Remus' shoulder. "The wizarding community has it all wrong, James. It's all messed up…"

"I can believe that," James said quietly, and then with one last deep breath (firming himself, perhaps) he held out a hand to Remus to shake.

"I'm sorry I was mad about it," he said. "I can guess why you didn't tell us."

Remus took the offer meakly, nodding when it seemed words were beyond him, and Sirius stood once more.

"Well, I still need to get to the Hospital Wing," he declared, stretching his arms over his head. "You'd think Madam Pomfrey would have figured it out by now, but she always keeps the Dittany in the same spot…"

James rose to follow him, and it seemed they moved too fast or too quietly, for as they pulled open the bathroom door again it was to a squeak and the sight of a squat, dark shape moving rapidly away up the corridor.

"Peter!"

Peter, who had obviously been eavesdropping, froze mid-flight, his plump hands scrunched up by his shoulders and his mousy face screwed up like a boy caught before the cookie jar. For a moment, Sirius almost thought he saw real terror on Peter's face, but when James laughed the moment was broken, and the smaller boy joined in.

"For heaven's sake, Peter, are you sure you're not a Slytherin? Get back here…"

Peter was ushered into the bathroom, and Sirius couldn't help but think this was too much stress for Remus, who was in a pitious state already.

"So you heard it all?" Sirius asked Peter, putting an arm around his shoulder. "The whole confession?"

"Yes," Peter replied, and his tone of voice sounded like he still hadn't decided whether to be nervous or not. "Yes, Remus, I…"

Then, the contorted expression on Peter's face changed- a sudden light touched it, something like determination, and Sirius recognized it for what it was: that which had made the Hat sort him into Gryffindor.

"I trust you too, Remus," Peter said stoutly. "I won't tell anyone- I want to help, like Sirius."

...and he looked so sure, as solid as earth, with all the resolve of the hardiest weather-worn plants- so of course, everyone believed him.

The end of the year seemed to come about differently this time; their goodbyes at the train station had changed in flavour. It was only natural- now, there were no hidden things between them. Remus' icy walls had been dismantled for certain, the moon he had caged behind them was revealed...and to Sirius, it seemed like the bond between friends had been strengthened by it. He found he was not jealous, the way he had thought he might be- not when it came to James and Peter, at least, who both had made up for lost time with fervour, asking after Remus' cycles and helping him with his injuries every month. They didn't reject him- what Remus had feared most did not happen, and every day he seemed to become a little more confident for it.

Sirius, for his part, found himself in awe. How could this have happened? To think, in only a few short years he had turned from that lonely, bruised child of the dark (always on the edge of screaming, his words held in by the pressure of all the eyes and the dust that clogged his lungs and the moth-eaten tapestries that brushed his shoulders as he passed) to what he was now- free and strong, becoming freer and stronger every day, surrounded by friends with which he shared a bond closer than blood could ever be...the bond of unbreakable trust, and a shared secret.

Sirius did not fear Grimmauld Place when he returned this year. He did not feel the crushing pressure of that loneliness- in fact, in a bout of youthful conviction, he did not think he would ever feel that way again.

Three years down, and four to go- the future was coming, and for the first time Sirius felt truly ready to face it.