The months Sirius spent locked up in 12 Grimmauld Place were second in awfulness only to his years in Azkaban.
He spent most of his days alone in the house with only Kreacher and his deranged mutterings for company, and he was rapidly going insane from a mixture of loneliness and terrible childhood memories and screeching maternal portraits. He'd very much enjoyed having Harry and the Weasleys over for the Christmas holidays, of course, even if the circumstances behind their staying with him had been less than fortunate—but only two weeks later and they all had left again. Remus still lived with him, as promised, but the Order was sending him on longer and longer missions—he was now more often gone than not.
Sirius's greatest solace throughout the year had been his following of Harry's exploits at Hogwarts. Harry was acting more and more like a Marauder each day, forming secret defense societies and defying Dolores Umbridge, whom Sirius knew well from reputation alone. Sirius could so often be fooled into thinking he was James reincarnate—then Harry would do something so un-James-like that he would be painfully jerked back to his senses, like when he forbade Sirius from coming to visit him in Hogsmeade. Or like earlier tonight, when Harry had appeared in 12 Grimmauld Place's kitchen fire to berate him and Remus for bullying Snape.
Harry was long gone from the fire now, but Sirius found himself lingering at the kitchen table and gazing into it every so often, an awful feeling festering within his chest that he couldn't quite explain. "She hated him…he just attacked Snape for no good reason…I thought he was a bit of an idiot." Harry had been so bothered by what he'd seen in Snape's memories that he'd risked expulsion to talk to Sirius about it—he was ashamed of them, of Remus and Sirius and most of all of James.
"Sirius?" The kitchen door drew open, and Remus stepped inside with his brow furrowed. "You're still in here? He's not going to come back."
"I know," Sirius said quietly. He lowered his head into his hands.
"Hey." Remus slipped around the table to sit beside him, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Is this about…what he said about James?"
"Of course it is." Sirius glanced up to meet his eyes. "He was right about us, wasn't he? All those awful things we did to Snape…."
"You've never showed any remorse for how you treated Snape before," Remus observed. "Last time he was here, the two of you nearly came to blows."
"I know, I know, but I was thinking—Snape's hated Harry ever since he started at that bloody school, he's going to stop teaching him Occlumency now, and that's all because of us being little shits to him, Re. And worse…what if everything we did helped drive him over to the Death Eaters? If he'd never become a Death Eater, I never would've stopped trusting you, and Peter never would've become Secret-Keeper…James and Lily could still be alive."
Remus's hand tightened around Sirius's shoulder. "Severus's grudge against Harry is not your fault," he said firmly. "And neither are James and Lily's deaths. There are things we all wish we could take back, but we were young and stupid and we all thought we were untouchable. I don't think it does any good to worry about what could have gone differently. You loved James and Lily, and you love Harry, and you'd never dream of doing anything to hurt them. That's what matters."
"You're right," Sirius murmured, feeling marginally better at Remus's words. "Of course you're right—you always are, Moons."
"Plus," Remus added, smirking a little, "it wasn't all one-sided. Severus could be quite a little shit to us himself, if I recall correctly."
Sirius barked a laugh. "You're not wrong. Remember when he snuck that Swelling Solution into my pumpkin juice?"
"You got him back pretty well for that one, didn't you?"
"Oh, you bet I did. Polishing Filch's shackles for a month after was almost worth it."
Remus and Sirius both grinned, and they sat for a minute together in comfortable silence until Remus checked his watch and frowned. "I have to get going," he said, standing up. "I'm on recruitment duty—they're sending me to Wales this time. Dumbledore reckons my language skills might come in handy."
Sirius's heart sank. "Last time you were on recruitment duty, I didn't see you for a week."
"I know," Remus murmured. "I'll be back as soon as I can, but I…I have to go. It's important that I do this."
Sirius raised his head as Remus walked away; when he reached the door he hesitated, turning back to face his old friend. "It'll all work out, Sirius," he said quietly. "The Ministry's going to realize the truth, and then we'll get your name cleared and you'll be able to get out of here and be whatever you need to be for Harry. I promise."
Sirius nodded again and forced a smile until Remus had retreated down the hall. Then he sighed and turned back to the fireplace, losing himself in its flames once more.
