Sirius sat back on his bed in Grimmauld Place, arms folded behind his head. He had been banished to his room- another one of those strange, secret meetings with dark-hooded relatives (if they even were relatives) was occurring downstairs, and though Sirius would be turning sixteen before too long he was still barred from them. Was Regulus? Sirius wasn't sure. He had no doubt it was because of his behaviour, and so in the face of the rejection he felt only the desire to exacerbate it; in one corner of the bedroom he had a Muggle record player going, the sound magically amplified to blast through these dusty, miserable walls, like a nuclear strike shredding away pitiful suburban towns…

'And now I wanna be your dog…and now I wanna be your dog…'

The lyrics made him laugh out loud.

Sirius looked about his room, eyes flicking to the door, half-daring someone to come up and tell him to shut it off. He had made this place as offensive to his family's sensibilities as physically possible over the years- starting with cheap Gryffindor posters, charmed with both magic and force of will to stick to surfaces irreversibly...but recently he had also made some more outrageous additions in the form of Muggle swimsuit pinups from a dirty little shop only a few blocks down the road...stolen, of course, he had no Muggle money and did not care.

The posters were worth it for how his mother's knuckles turned white around her cane when she saw them, for how Kreacher moaned and spat at him as he passed, for how Orion's gaze steeled over as he shouted, as doors were slammed and silences extended and how Regulus' cheeks turned pink in high, circular spots when he saw them, like the paint on a blushing marionette…

Sirius looked at these posters now and vaguely wondered at them. Vacant eyes stared back at him, the Muggle women frozen in contorted and uncomfortable positions on surfboards or motorbikes or beach towels, showing off skin that looked like plastic and figures that looked like dolls. Was this what Muggle men really desired? Was this what he was supposed to desire...? Clearly the images were intended to be titillating, but it was strange...these empty-faced women did nothing to him, and perhaps it was because they were lit so brightly or perhaps it was because they didn't have enough scars...or perhaps something was broken inside of Sirius, in that gap between what he was supposed to want and what he did, perhaps his compass needle was pointing the wrong way, having been magnetized accidentally by a force of nature he didn't understand...a force of nature that, surely, he had first seen in Remus Lupin's eyes.

Sirius closed his eyes to the posturing Muggle women (useful though they were for other purposes) and thought of Remus instead. Yup, that did the trick.

Sirius didn't care if there was something wrong with him. He had already decided that a very long time ago.

Back at school, Sirius' mood improved incredibly. He pushed from his mind all of the strange goings-on at Grimmauld place, all of the stirrings he felt but was not allowed to interact with- none of that mattered here. The world was simple and bright and, more importantly than anything, it was his.

"The full moon is this Friday," Sirius whispered against a breathless Remus' lips; they were in a broom closet on the second floor, Sirius hadn't been able to wait for their typical havens, too eager to reinstate himself... it had been a long summer with only memories to bring him over the edge.

"I know," Remus replied darkly, the words soft on his swollen mouth. He kissed Sirius again, perhaps to shut him up, and that was a wonderful enough distraction for several more long, hot, fumbling minutes... but Sirius was not to be dissuaded.

"I'm coming with you," he declared, loud enough that someone outside might have realized they were there, and Remus moaned in response to the bite on his throat that followed, but did not reply.

"I am," Sirius continued. "I'll be the dog- I've been practicing, it's effortless now."

"Oh, good for you," Remus murmured, and he sounded airy and distant and all the things Sirius couldn't stand. He was buttoning his shirt back up, adjusting his hair- Sirius could see the flashes of his irises as he looked away. "That's really amazing, Sirius. It's really impressive…"

Sirius took hold of Remus' wrist before he could get away, pulling him back into the warm dark, close where the lupine glitter in his eyes could be clearly seen. Sirius loved that. He tried to kiss Remus again, but the taller boy turned ever so slightly away, and his mouth pressed to a scar on his cheek instead. Well, that was alright in his mind.

"You can't stop me," Sirius told him, breath hot against his ear. Remus shivered- surely that was a victory- but then he pushed Sirius back against a rack of brooms that clattered, and he was strong enough (surprisingly strong, in fact) to escape this time. Light flooded the dusty air and Sirius cringed (like a vampire, like Kreacher, like any dark thing) and Remus was up and out, away, Sirius scrambling to follow him.

"You can't," he said again, perhaps shouted, and they were lucky that the corridor was abandoned at this hour for how Remus whirled to look at him, brow furrowed in the unmistakable sign of a coming argument.

"No, you can't, Sirius," Remus said sharply. "You don't- it's dangerous. If something happened, I...God...can you even think of what would become of us? Of me?"

His voice broke, and Sirius saw for the first time a raw terror on his face, pure horror, he was trembling and pale and so pretty Sirius was convinced to think of it, even if just for a moment...and he supposed he understood. But it wasn't enough to dissuade him.

"I've already told you- as an animal, you won't want to hurt me," Sirius said, and Remus just shook his head, the fear-fury in his eyes leaving him speechless a moment.

"You don't know that," he finally hissed. "You just read that in a book- I might be worse- you've seen what I do to myself! I'm vicious, I-I...I'm a monster…"

He seemed to crack on this last word, all the light flying out and leaving him deflated, a misery the colour of tar showing through in all the spaces left behind. Sirius closed the distance between them- it was an easy thing to do now- and embraced him, feeling his warmth and his shivers as though they were his own.

"You're not going to hurt me," he said, as though it was obvious; well, it was obvious to him. "You'll see. I'll prove it to you."

Remus stayed silent, even as Sirius helped him wipe his tears on their way up to class- perhaps, he thought the argument wasn't over, but Sirius knew it was, and that he had won. Even if he had to chain their wrists together, he was going under that tree- going to the place he had spent so much time longing for.

Remus didn't understand- after all, he couldn't see himself. If he could, surely he would realize why Sirius needed this.

The moon came too slow. Remus tried to be distant- a petty manipulation- but he was terrible at it; Sirius only had to pull him aside for a kiss and he melted like hot butter. He always looked like he was going to cry when they were done, though, and perhaps James and Peter sensed these uncertain moods because Sirius was spoken to by the former, ever the interventionist:

"Is everything alright with you two?" James asked him, pulling on his Quidditch gloves; practices were already starting for the team. "Remus looks... I dunno. Miserable. Like he used to."

"He'll be alright," Sirius said dismissively. "Just wait 'till this weekend- you'll see."

"You're going with him?" James asked, and Sirius nodded, grinning on reflex. The thought never failed to send his insides spinning like a cyclone.

"I'm still working on it," James told him. "I actually made a lot of progress this summer...full-blown antlers and four legs… I think I'm a deer."

"Wicked!" Sirius said, and he held up a hand for James' to strike; they both laughed, and Sirius felt elated. "That does suit you! I'll tell you what I did at that point...there's kind of a trick to finishing it off…"

The two boys bent their heads together and whispered, each in the other's utmost confidence; before long James was running late and Sirius sent him off with a mock-kick to the rear, and Sirius didn't think there was anything in the world that could put a damper on his spirits.

The night came.

Sirius had spent the entire day leading up to it in a state of near insensate excitement- he couldn't pay attention in class, couldn't even fall asleep during their double History of Magic, he was a wild thing...he felt like his insides had all been replaced by lightning, flickering and iron-hot, and time only moved too slowly.

"I can't stop you, can I?" Remus whispered as the other boys in the dormitory began changing into their pajamas. He sat on the bed, pale fingers doing up the buttons on his cloak, preparing for the journey, and Sirius mirrored him triumphantly. James tossed Sirius his Invisibility Cloak, and the liquid-silk of the fabric dragged on Sirius' warm palms, promising all the best secrets of the night.

"Nope," Sirius said smugly, even as Remus looked down at his lap, the line of his shoulders tense and unhappy. Tomorrow, Sirius thought, tomorrow he would see…he just needed proof, and Sirius knew as clearly as he knew anything that he would get it. He wasn't afraid in the slightest.

"Have fun," Peter chirped, pulling his blankets up to his chin.

"And good luck," was James' parting word... Sirius winked to them both and pulled the Cloak about his shoulders, vanishing from sight. Remus said nothing more, turning away to head down the stairs, his footsteps near silent in the darkened common room.

Remus stopped at the Portrait Hole, one hand extended to push it open, and then looked back over his shoulder…he couldn't see Sirius, of course, his sad eyes drifted through the space just to the left of Sirius' shoulder, and for a moment he looked like he was going to say something- any protest or argument, Sirius would rebuff instantly- but in the end he didn't…he only sighed, and slipped out into the night, Sirius following close behind.

Madam Pomfrey was waiting, her face lit by the lamp she held; Sirius didn't doubt it was only for her, surely Remus didn't need it on a night like tonight. She didn't say a word to him, no greeting or admonishment, her face was harsh as she turned away and began to lead them down the path through the castle…down the stairs, through the Great Hall, out the front doors…

Unlike the rest of the day, this oneiric journey seemed to pass by incredibly fast, the moments melting together like oil and sliding downstream…Sirius felt oddly breathless, lightheaded, and he had to fight over the faint buzzing in his ears to keep the sound of his footsteps down. He wanted Remus to try and look for him, but the taller boy never did- he looked only down at the ground, head bowed, and he followed Madam Pomfrey in perfect silence. He was like a medieval martyr, traveling through the dark to his pyre.

They reached the tree in what felt like only a handful of heartbeats, and Pomfrey cast a spell that Sirius didn't quite hear, something dark flying from the end of her wand and into the base of the tree… the Willow ceased its usual restless thrashing, and Madam Pomfrey turned expectantly to Remus, who started forward, but hesitated, looking back- looking for Sirius, surely, yes-

"Get along now," Pomfrey said, her voice entirely unsympathetic. "Three hours until midnight."

Remus nodded, and knelt at the base of the tree, sliding down into the well-hidden dark. Sirius followed, close enough behind that the sounds of their landings disguised each other, that Remus surely felt Sirius' presence against his back…the black swallowed them whole and, just like that first, wonderful night two years ago, it felt like the entire world changed- the sounds of the night outside vanished in the stone and all the light disappeared and the air tasted of earth instead of wind and Sirius' heart was beating so fast he felt it would burst.

They moved a few feet into the tunnel, just away from the entrance, and then Sirius whipped the Invisibility Cloak from his head, bearing his skin to the cold air. Remus startled slightly, but said nothing, and when Sirius cast a light at the end of his wand his eyes narrowed as though the bright was too much for him.

"What a bitch," Sirius said good-naturedly, and Remus shrugged.

"No she isn't," he murmured softly, and then they were off.

Remus didn't quite run, but his legs were so long and he moved so gracefully that Sirius had to jog to keep up. The chill in the air did nothing to dampen his mood, and he couldn't have banished the grin from his face even if he wanted to. On impulse, Sirius reached out and took Remus' hand, entwining their fingers- his own skin felt fever-warm, and Remus was as cold as ice. Sirius heard him suck in a long, trembling breath, but he said nothing...he said nothing until they reached the trapdoor, and there he turned to Sirius with a terribly plaintive expression on his face, and he whispered:

"Please...don't go any further than this."

Sirius only shook his head, squeezing Remus' hand tighter, and Remus looked away, eyes sad and shuttered.

"Why do you still doubt me?" Sirius asked.

"Not you," Remus murmured. "But...I don't think you'll like it...what you're going to see."

"That's for me to decide," Sirius told him, and Remus bit his lip but protested no further; his fingers slipped from Sirius' reach as he pushed open the trapdoor, slipping out into the house of the moon, and Sirius followed, his breathless excitement entirely reinstated. Remus seemed breathless too- or perhaps like he was having trouble breathing- and he dropped his cloak to the floor quite carelessly, taking a few trembling steps towards the stairs…

"Is it starting?" Sirius asked, and surely he sounded entirely too eager- like a child at a race or a fireworks show; Remus did not reply, he did not even look like he had understood, and he walked up the stairs so slowly and silently he could have been a ghost.

The bedroom was bathed in moonlight, and Remus seemed to sigh at the sight. He stepped into the center of the room, perfectly framed by the glow from the window, and looked back at Sirius once more-

"Don't," Sirius said, guessing that Remus planned to warn him off again, but he only frowned, closing his eyes...and when they opened again, their irises had turned gold.

All the air that had been so tumultuously held in Sirius' lungs vanished- he was too enthralled to even think of breathing, and the lightning in his gut he had felt all day was taking over his entire body, until even his eyes were burning and God, there couldn't be anything better than this. Remus unbuttoned his shirt with shaking hands, and without it all the silver scars on his fair chest could be seen; Sirius' eyes sucked down the sight like they were starving, and even when Remus was kicking off his pants and shoes as well he didn't look away, modesty be damned, he had spent too much time wanting to see this, wanting to see it more than anything…

Remus lay back on the bed, shaking all over and naked now, and certainly in a different state of mind he would have refused to let Sirius see him so, but now he didn't seem to care...his brow was furrowed and his yellow eyes shut tight, he spasmed suddenly, ribs jerking upwards in his chest- he cried out like he was in pain (well, he almost certainly was) and his fingers clutched at the bed's shredded comforter, and his pale skin shone in a way that surely no one else's would, because no one else had magic like him.

"Sirius," Remus whined, and his head curved back into the mattress, glowing animal eyes fixing Sirius in his place at the doorway; Sirius had never seen anything so rawly erotic in his entire life. Helpless to it he crossed the floor, kneeling by the bed to take Remus' hands in his- it had already happened, his nails were sharp, and when he opened his mouth his teeth were not teeth but fangs...he panted, skin bright with strain and agony, and Sirius kissed his forehead. He wanted to say something to him- something unbearably silly, like 'you're doing great' or 'you're so beautiful' or even 'this is so fucking hot'...but he was speechless, all of the words caught in his throat, and there was no time anyway because Remus spasmed again and now fur was sprouting from his skin and he snarled, jerking out of Sirius' grasp and flipping himself over onto all fours on the bed- his limbs were bending and twisting, Sirius could see it, could hear it, joints popping and bones snapping and muscles stretching out to compensate…

The time had come, then.

Sirius took a few paces back, discarding his own clothes in a rush- Remus' skull was changing shape, he saw his ears roll back and up, becoming pointed, saw his nose and jaw grow longer- he looked hungry-

Sirius straightened up, and saw the werewolf as he was for only a moment more with human eyes.

His own transformation was easy, indeed, it was effortless...in the space of one breath the feeling took over his entire body, like the crackling whispers of an old Muggle TV on static, and then it was over and done.

Sirius shook out his fur and sniffed the air, feeling like he had just woken from a dream- the man-dream, that was, one that had been full of insane and fire-hot thoughts. The air here smelled of dust but also, sweetly, of the wolf, and Sirius looked curiously up at him, he who was still perched so gracefully on the bed. He was incredibly beautiful. His hackles and long ears both were raised, and he looked quite surprised to see Sirius standing there- perhaps he had expected something else.

Sirius' tail wagged, lightly at first and then with much force, and he took a step closer, eager- but the wolf growled at him, low and uncertain, and then suddenly and quite abruptly he threw himself from the bed, slamming loudly against the wall as his claws scrabbled on the wooden floor, and before Sirius could even get over his own surprise the wolf had shot past him and out the bedroom door, a blinding flash of silver and scent.

The wolf tumbled headfirst down the stairs, landing hard on his side where he twitched like a possessed thing before scrambling to his legs again, racing across the corridor to the closed trapdoor in the floor... he clawed at it, ears flat against his skull and crying like he was in pain, and when it didn't open he threw himself into one of the walls, striking his head deliberately against the wood.

Sirius didn't know what to do with this. The wolf's erratic movements were alarming to him, he convulsed like he was insane, this wasn't the way a dog should move at all... he darted into the next room, Sirius following, and he wound around in tight circles on the carpet there, at first appearing to chase his own tail- but then, with an angry and haunting cry, he opened his mouth and began to tear at his own hind legs, sinking his teeth in deep enough to draw blood that splattered hot across the floor.

Sirius barked at him, suddenly panicked- this wasn't what he had thought would happen- though, really he didn't know what he had 'thought' would happen. Memories- especially memories of thoughts- did not matter so much to a dog. What mattered was that the wolf- the wolf who, Sirius knew, was something like his mate- was hurting himself, and he didn't even seem to realize that Sirius was there.

Sirius barked again, louder this time, but the wolf didn't even turn his head- he darted back into the corridor and then around into the next room, claws clicking unevenly on the wooden floor as he limped, and Sirius followed, panting nervously. There was a turned-over table here and the wolf grabbed one of the chewed legs in his jaw, shaking it back and forth violently- violently enough for one of the other legs to swing around and jab at his ribs- and Sirius whined for the pain he didn't feel, and even this the wolf did not seem to hear.

Then, inspiration struck- a man-thought, a memory, something from a book, the book that had had all the secrets of his beloved; Sirius tipped his head back to the ceiling and this time, instead of a bark, he howled.

The sound was rough and grating in his ill-shapen throat, but it didn't matter- he held the note for as long as he could and when he came down again the wolf was looking at him, frozen, ears perked and golden eyes bright.

Encouraged, Sirius howled again, trying to hold it longer this time- when he was finished he wagged his tail, and the wolf had put down the table, and at last- at long, bloody last- he was given an answer.

The sound that escaped the wolf's throat certainly put Sirius' own attempt to shame- it was haunting and effortless and wild, and Sirius' canine instincts went crazy with a mix of both attraction and fear, and his tail was wagging so hard it thumped against his own flanks, and when the eerie note died out Sirius crossed the floor with no reserve and licked the wolf's long, slender nose.

The wolf startled slightly, recoiling- but he did not run away, he did not start to hurt himself like before, he just stood there, legs stiff and head pulled back like he didn't know what to make of this... Sirius sniffed all around his mouth and ears, a thorough examination- did he smell different than he did in his other form? Perhaps, yes, perhaps a little stronger... he smelled like anxiety also, sharp between the follicles, and the blood that was still dripping from his wounds coloured the air with iron. Sirius tried to lick one of the bites and the wolf whimpered, drawing back- but Sirius followed, not to be deterred, and after a few moments he gave in, lying gingerly down while Sirius cleaned his blood away.

The task felt familiar. When it was done the wolf was shaking and he lifted his head, sniffing innocently at Sirius' flank... after a moment he licked him there, and Sirius' tail wagged again, brushing across the wolf's nose. Like this, observations were made: Sirius had the larger body of the two, though the wolf's legs were much longer... his fur was perfectly silver, every hair pure, save a few that darkened around his eyes and nose and the tips of his ears. He shone like liquid even in the dark, and with his slender grace of figure and raised ruff he surely looked more like those foxlike creatures from South America than a winter-hardened Eurasian wolf…too beautiful, just like Sirius had thought.

Sirius lay down beside the wolf and put his head across his back, sighing, looking into those curious and unhappy golden eyes...he was just like he always was, wasn't he? Sirius recognized him completely. His tail swished over the floor and, after a moment's contemplation, the wolf lifted his head to let out another long, eerie call.

This one broke off short- the wolf looked at Sirius expectantly, and then raised his head once more. Sirius understood, and tried his best- his own voice harmonized poorly, the sound was too much like a bark, but the wolf didn't seem to mind. In fact, he looked impossibly very happy when they were finished, his eyes bright and his ears raised... Sirius howled again, anything to make him feel better, and their cries surely filled the air all the way to Hogsmeade.

If it were so, then no one slept that night- for they howled, and they howled, and they howled.

Sirius forgot what time meant- forgot everything but their music, which filled him from the inside out in a way nothing else ever had, replacing all his thoughts with the bright face of the moon. He felt dizzy, like he was drunk, and he had not a single worry in the world... his nose was full of the wolf's scent, his ears full of the wolf's call, and he was deeply, powerfully in love.

Perhaps his throat began to hurt at some point, perhaps his voice began to wear thin- but by that time the sun was nearly rising, and before he could think of it they were asleep.

Sirius woke very, very slowly, his consciousness rising like a bubble to the surface of water… when at last that bubble popped he opened his eyes and saw that the world around him was lit by sunlight, and felt that the surface beneath him was hard, and then he remembered everything quite abruptly.

Last night had been the full moon…and now, he was human again. He had changed back from the dog sometime in his sleep.

Cautiously, Sirius rolled over, and his arm met warm flesh. Remus. He, too, was human once more- he was lying a few feet away, his back to Sirius, curled naked and fetal on the wood.

Sirius brushed his own hair from his eyes and sat up, leaning over Remus and blinking blearily; he felt very well, he thought, considering it had been his first go- his body ached a little from sleeping on the floor and his throat hurt, but nothing more. The excitement that had driven him all day yesterday (all day, every day, for years) had been tempered with satisfaction, and what was left in its place was affection…softer and more tender than it had been before.

"Hey," Sirius whispered, his voice hoarse, and he took Remus' shoulder to shake him gently. "Hey. Good morning. How are you?"

Remus rolled back slowly, his brow furrowing; he looked exhausted, Sirius thought, and his face was sallow with all the qualities of a fever. When he opened his eyes they were blue again, the colour muddied with what was unmistakably pain…he looked confused, and Sirius waited for him, stroking his bare shoulder absently, wondering if he could get away with perhaps reaching a little further down, to the marks that adorned Remus' waist or hips...

"Sirius," Remus croaked, his voice so soft Sirius almost hadn't heard. "You…you're still here."

"Of course," Sirius replied and, impulsively, he bent to kiss Remus' cheek. His skin there felt too hot, too dry. Remus was faintly trembling.

"Are you…hurt?" Remus spoke like he was too weak to do so, needing a breath for every word; in reply, Sirius shook his head vehemently and sat up a little straighter, gesturing to his unmarked body.

"Not at all," he said firmly. "No, baby- last night all you wanted to do was sing."

Remus didn't seem to notice the endearment, which was perhaps good because it surely had coloured Sirius' cheeks. He swallowed hard, and Sirius supposed he must be thirsty; Sirius looked around, an entirely futile gesture, knowing full well there wasn't anything of use here.

"I should have thought to pack a picnic," Sirius said lightly, but Remus didn't reply. His head had turned to the side and one glittering eye watched Sirius seemingly without any thought at all, a spot of blue and white in a sea of purple-black, and when Sirius sat up fully he was reminded of the worst of it- of how the night before had started out.

Wordlessly he set about examining Remus' body again, checking this time for new damage- and, heart sinking, he found some. Of course, his own mouth couldn't have fixed something like that, how could he have forgotten? Remus' legs were covered in the clotted blood of bite wounds and his skin was inflamed, too hot to touch. There were bruises on his ribs that surely hadn't been there before, and in all he looked too sick for Sirius to really enjoy seeing him naked in this way.

"I'm sorry," Sirius murmured to him, and he kissed Remus' knee. "I thought I could stop you…that it would be better this time."

Remus didn't say anything, only humming hoarsely to show he had heard, and Sirius thought to himself: next time. Next time, it will.

"Can you get up?" Sirius asked, an entirely futile question, he already knew the answer; Remus didn't speak, his eyes were glazed over with fever and hollow pain, and Sirius knew quite well that it always took him a day or two at least to reappear after the moon- and this, here, was why.

Sirius stood on clumsy legs, stretching out his well-used muscles. They were downstairs in the room Sirius supposed was a parlour, so he went back up to the bedroom, scavenging for soft things…a gutted pillow and torn blankets, good enough for now.

Downstairs again Sirius helped the trembling Remus in this makeshift bed, placing the pillow under his head and tucking the blanket around all of his feeble limbs…when it was done his eyes could be seen, peering sad and bruised from inside the nest, and Sirius kissed his forehead and told him he would be back and went out to find his own clothes.

The trip back through the passage of the Whomping Willow was thoroughly uninteresting without Remus there to accompany him- it seemed insufferably long, a musty darkness that extended on for hours (surely not- it only felt this way), intolerable because Sirius wanted to be back at Remus' side as soon as possible…occasionally, flashes of memory from the night before would come to him, seizing his entire body in white-hot lightning- he had been there, he had watched, he had sung with the wolf- but his concern for the human Remus tempered his excitement somewhat.

Sirius emerged into the sunlight, feeling odd and blind, like some cave-dwelling creature- where had the cold, beautiful moon gone?- it seemed strange to return to normal life like this, strange to reconcile the two worlds…he felt he had crossed a line into a new and awakened state of being, and had no desire to go back.

It was the easiest thing in the world, what came next- Sirius was familiar with every step. Food stolen from the kitchens, tucked inside a sizeable rucksack- medicine from Madam Pomfrey's office, all the usual- fresh clothes from Remus' closet. Sirius saw neither Peter nor James, but remembered that there was Quidditch practice on this afternoon, and had no doubts about where they were.

Then, back into the dark. On the return path Sirius couldn't stop grinning.

Remus was asleep when he found him again, but he woke, blinking sadly and weakly in the light that came through the windows… Sirius lay beside him and Remus' head pressed to his chest, and Sirius could smell his hair and feel his chill and everything about this was so, so good.

Perfect, rather- it was fucking perfect.

Everything was harder after that moon- Sirius wanted to touch Remus all the time, touch him in ways he hadn't yet, but they never seemed to be alone, not like they had been out in Hogsmeade- Sirius didn't know if he could wait another whole month to have that again. He felt like an addict, and Remus was the finest of drugs, and he'd do almost anything just to lie there in the broom closet a moment more, nose buried in the crook of his neck, taking in his scent like a dog…but the real world was always waiting for them, that other, irreconcilably bright world, where boys and girls were the ones who dated and the posters on Sirius' bedroom wall in Grimmauld Place were of Muggle women…Sirius didn't know what to say about it, and so he said nothing, and neither did Remus- there was no expectation for them to hold hands in public, and as such Sirius was driven utterly wild in private, the drinker of some forbidden elixir, senseless and unnamable and earth-shattering.

He wanted- God, he wanted- what was it, really, that he wanted?

He didn't think it even had a name.

The blueprints for the map lay strewn about the table, smears of blue and black ink, some which shifted in the corners of Sirius' eyes- was that because of the magic, or because he was drunk? It was impossible to say…such an ambitious project they had here, to make a comprehensive map of Hogwarts, one that marked not only landscape but also people...both fixed and in motion, each second like a frame in a Muggle movie…but it wasn't really that difficult. Sirius and James knew this castle, they had been exploring it for years, and somehow Sirius thought that it wanted them to do it, wanted to be documented- the magic, which was very complicated, seemed already to be coming easy.

"I want to ask out Lily Evans," James said, his voice wet with alcohol. Sirius looked over at him, floating pieces of rejected paper idly with his wand, and laughed.

"You 'want' to? Everyone knows that," he said, and wasn't it true? "Just do it already. She has to say yes, you're…come on, you're gonna be captain of the Quidditch team next year…"

"I don't know," Peter said, hiccuping from the effects of his own small glass, round fingers folded under his chin. "I thought she liked that Slytherin guy…Snivellus, you know."

"No way," James said sharply, sounding less drunk this time. "No fucking way."

Remus hummed, a sound perhaps only to show that he was still there, and Sirius looked back at him- his shirt was rucked up, part of his pale belly was showing, and Sirius wanted to lay his head there…but he didn't, and even though it seemed like he made this choice on his own a spike of ire shot through him.

"We'll go find him later," Sirius said to James. "Snivellus. See if any girl can like him after he gets pantsed up in a tree…"

James agreed and took another swig, so Sirius matched him.

"I'm going to stay behind for Christmas," Remus told him softly. The common room was warm, perhaps too warm, the fire lit bright to counter the late November snowstorm that had settled outside. Remus looked like an angel- the way Sirius had taken to conceiving him after their second full moon spent together, when they had played and sung and sniffed at the broken windows, and Remus had only bitten himself once. "I managed to convince my mother it would be safe."

"Good," Sirius replied, accidentally too honest, what was with that? Remus smiled a little, looking away, and Sirius' heart was molten iron in his chest and his self-restraint deserving of awards.

"Work on the map while we're away," James ordered, a captain already. "I really want to see it in action."

"Only if you two practice your transformations," Sirius replied- and to these things, everyone agreed.

A day or two was left until New Year's. The castle had been chilled throughout the holidays, the windows left full of white from storm after storm…the wind howled at night as fiercely as any wolf, and the sound always excited Sirius and seemed to make Remus relax, his fingers cold on Sirius' stomach and spine.

They were alone in the Gryffindor dormitory. The world became soft around the edges, warm in a way nothing else was, and Sirius' heart throbbed in time with every movement Remus made- there were no worries strong enough to penetrate his head, and time passed without his paying any attention to it. For just a few weeks, the entire castle became their haven.

"I know a spell," Remus told him. Sirius sat transfixed on the floor of their bedroom, fingers faintly sticky from sweets, watching- there was no hope of looking away. "If you want to do it…properly."

Remus wasn't wearing anything, just a blanket, and the dark fur of it gathered around his collar, making him look like a creature from a fairytale. Their eyes met, one flash of contact, then Remus looked down and away, his cheeks a pale pink, as pink as they ever became…and then Sirius understood what he meant and it seemed his heart both stopped and burst and, breathless, he realized he felt very, very young.

"Yes," he said, and something in his voice made Remus smile. "Yes, yes, yes."

The distance between them closed before Sirius even realized it, and then there was a kiss, and Sirius was desperate and Remus faintly shy, even though it had been his idea in the first place...

And after that it was messy, and after that it burned, and it seemed to go by too fast because Sirius didn't know what he was doing, not at all- all he had to follow was instinct, inherited but not understood, how did Remus know of this anyway? When it was over they were both shaking, and Sirius had never reached heights like that on his own in the miserable bedroom of Grimmauld Place, and he pressed his mouth to the scar over Remus' heart to feel its wild beating, swallowing the rhythm there until he was able to breathe once more.

"We have to do that again," Sirius groaned, and Remus hummed, not needing words to agree.

This glorious thing that had been so obscured from him, they practiced it often after that, until perhaps some skill was developed, and there wasn't a place in the dormitory they hadn't put to use. Sirius felt at times a mindless creature- and at others he thought too much, and went to the library in hope of finding answers to these lewd questions, but there were no such books. Perhaps, in the Restricted Section. When James came back from holidays, Sirius would ask for the Cloak.

(Ask, but not say why- surely that was impossible, the burning secret world he had with Remus surely could not be revealed to anyone, for to expose it as such would take it away- shrivel it up like a snail with no shell in the sun. Were he and Remus the first to discover it? That seemed impossible…even more proof that it needed to be hidden.)

The end of the holidays- a terrible thing! The eyes of the others tied them down so, and cut away huge swathes of space from the places where they could be close together…around anyone else, they merely had to act like friends. But that wasn't the truth, was it? At least, not entirely- but Sirius didn't know.

Sirius licked Remus' scars until he stopped showing shyness for them, and Remus told Sirius that he liked his hair long, really, and neither of them said anything about their families or friends or the future and what it all meant, and every time Sirius thought he saw these things rising up in Remus' eyes he kissed him to keep them at bay.

When they were alone together, Sirius didn't feel any shame.

Sirius rubbed his nose against the bone that jutted from the back of Remus' neck to wake him. Dust shifted in the sunlit air inside the Hogsmeade shack- where had they ended up, exactly? Sirius raised his head, and discovered it was the bedroom. Fitting. He grinned to himself and gave Remus' slender figure a squeeze, for he had woken with his arms wrapped around him from behind, and only now did Remus finally stir.

He had no wounds this time- Sirius had seen to that. He had accomplished quite the opposite.

"How do you feel?" Sirius asked him slyly as he sat slowly up, stretching pale arms over his head.

"Alright," Remus replied, voice soft with sleep. "Good, actually."

"Good. Remember anything in particular?"

Perhaps it was the ridiculous, self-satisfied tone in Sirius' voice that really made Remus look over at him, his brow furrowing in faint confusion.

"No. I never do," he replied, and he was so totally oblivious that Sirius wanted to laugh.

"Well," he said instead, "let's just say you and I had a very good time last night."

It was obvious when Remus finally understood- he blanched and his eyes widened and he recoiled, for some reason horrified, and he grabbed a tattered blanket from the bed to cover himself with, one frayed end pressed over his mouth.

"We didn't," he whispered. "That's- oh, my God, Sirius, that's-"

"Awesome," Sirius offered, which was to him a perfect truth, but Remus shook his head. His cheeks had flushed red. Pretty.

"Disgusting," he retorted. "Horrible- I could have actually hurt you-"

"You never hurt me," Sirius snapped, and his voice sounded too harsh, he knew it- but he was tired of this. Remus never seemed to understand.

"You were very sweet last night," he continued in a lighter voice- back to that obscene flirtation. "Rolled right over for me- you loved it."

Remus released a low, anguished noise and covered his face completely in the blanket for a moment, and Sirius saw him shudder from head to toe.

"Never speak of this again," he said then, face still hot with embarrassment, and Sirius grinned, giving him a wink.

"If you insist," was his reply.

Success.

The clearing in the Forbidden Forest which had once held young men now contained only animals- a black dog, a brown rat, and a tremendous woodland stag, whose antlers reached so high they seemed nearly to catch on the dark sky.

And of course, there was also the wolf- but the moon was new, so he could not shed his skin and join them so easily.

Sirius paced between the newcomers, his head and tail both held high, sniffing curiously at their noses- he recognized them both as they were so utterly and completely, shouldn't he have guessed already that they would be this way? The form of an animagus was nothing but the shape of one's soul…

Sirius passed by the wolf and kissed his smooth cheek; he startled, but did not speak, not that Sirius would have really understood him like this anyway. There was nothing that needed to be understood- this was their pack now, yes, just like it had always been…and now it was complete.

Sirius crouched into the play position, his tail wagging, facing the stag who kicked his hooves and tossed his head and pranced, and the rat ran between their legs, sleek figure bounding through the low grass…the wolf followed them, laughing at times, and Sirius knew he couldn't be jealous of this. They were powerful- look what they had accomplished, that which was so nearly impossible for so many people- and more importantly, they were not alone.

The stars that shone between the trees lit their path through the Forbidden Forest, and not one of the dark things that lingered there disturbed them- perhaps, because it was clear they were unstoppable.

"It's done," James whispered, entirely unnecessarily- the Map was spread out across the table, massive when unfolded to its greatest extent, and across it there shifted figures in constant motion- a creation of incredible complexity. Sirius' brain almost couldn't take it all in.

"Look, there we are!" Peter chirped, and he placed his finger against a point on the third-floor layer- yes, haha, the ever-abandoned bathroom where they were hiding, the place that was hardly recognizable as a bathroom at all anymore, for the additions they had made to it over the years…Sirius leaned over to look and, sure enough, there in a cluster were four names: James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

"We should sign it," James proposed, flicking his wand back and forth in his fingers. "It feels…well, we deserve credit, don't we? This is some badass magic…"

(The American expression made everyone laugh.)

"I don't know," Remus murmured warily; in the candles they had lit his eyes flickered; the moon was only a week away, and Sirius could see it rising inside him.

"If someone else found it…we'd get in an awful lot of trouble, I think."

Everyone considered this for a moment, sobering, and then Sirius' mind lit up with an answer, as easy and obvious as anything:

"We could use code names," he said eagerly, leaning forward over the Map. "Like spies, right? Our secret identities…"

Secret identities, yes- other selves- think of it as the sides of a coin, night and day, moon and sun…the uncanny, same-but-different, that which shifts when seen through a different lense…

And after all, are the names we give ourselves not truer than the ones we are given?

MOONY WORMTAIL PADFOOT PRONGS

The shack in Hogsmeade was too small to contain them- but that didn't matter anymore. They had outgrown it like old shoes, like training wheels on a Muggle bicycle, these things that weren't necessary anymore.

Sirius raced through the forest at the heels of the stag, all his senses alight with the night; the wind that streamed through his fur carried the scents of everything that was here and that had been here, and he understood it all without even needing to think. The Forest was endless, and they were its kings, dominating the soft pine needle-floor by running over it, the trees by passing through their branches uncaught…to be human was a resentful and uncertain state, Sirius knew that now, for as an animal he was truly, entirely free.

In a clearing ahead the wolf paused in the race, tilting his head back to call up towards the moon. His silver fur shimmered and he looked healthy, undamaged, and Sirius' tail wagged as he bounded up and tackled him to the ground; a play-fight, safe and familiar, and it ended with the wolf licking under his chin, yellow eyes as bright as newly polished Galleons.

The stag trotted into the clearing after them, snorting; faster in the air, Sirius thought, which was a human thought from the human world, so he ignored it. The rat was balanced between his antlers and when the stag lowered his head to the grass he jumped down, darting back and forth amidst the roots until he caught up, ears pricked and nose wriggling at the scents of the earth.

The wolf raised his head to howl again and this time as Sirius joined in, a truth came to him, as clear and brilliant as the day: whatever happened next, they would face it together. Whatever happened next, they would overcome it together.

The moonlit Forest was their Olympus- they might as well be gods.

The countryside passed by swiftly beyond the windows of the Hogwarts Express; James gave the Marauders Map to Sirius with a wink, like the kingly passing of a sword.

"You keep ahold of it this summer," he said. "Give it a look when your family gets the better of you- see what Filch gets up to over the break."

When the train stopped and people were flooding the corridors, and Sirius' heart began to downturn, Remus took him aside to a shadow where they were not seen and kissed him once and chastely on the lips.

"Good luck, Padfoot," he murmured, his cheeks pink, and so Sirius kissed him back, much more hungrily- anything to make his face even redder.

"You too, Moony," he replied. "Write back."

But this year, Sirius knew that he would.

Funny, how he did not feel such dread at the prospect of facing his family anymore- it was as though they had passed out of focus, no longer so terrible and powerful as they had been in his childhood. Their hold on his heart had vanished completely.

"Maybe I'll come visit you," Sirius said, and this time, Remus did not protest.

Everything was as it should be.