The Boy Who Killed God

by SeraMGrigori

Sirius Black has a secret. Well, no, that's not true. Sirius Black has many secrets. His wand is dying, his parents more or less want to kill him, and there's the small matter of the cursed TOUJOURS PUR tattoo right above his heart, that he's had since he turned eight years old. Sirius Black is no stranger to secrets. Then, Remus Lupin walks into his life.

4. The Secrets We Keep

CHAPTER FOUR

The Secrets We Keep

SEPTEMBER 3, 1971

"First years, up and at 'em! Common room, hurry up!"

Sirius jolted awake and nearly flew out of his bed. The edges of his nightmare receded a little, the tendrils still tight around his throat, but when he blinked, he was in the Gryffindor dormitory, not Grimmauld Place. He collapsed back on his pillow and let out a long breath of relief.

James and Sirius had gotten back late from detention, despite their best intentions of finishing early. Both boys had been so exhausted they'd just collapsed on their beds, not bothering with any homework. Sirius had tossed and turned all night, but he'd finally managed to properly sleep.

That is, until, Frank Longbottom barged into their dorms and started screaming like a mad idiot. "Get your arses out of bed! First year common room meeting, now!"

Morning person or no, Sirius Black did not appreciate waking up at—he waved his hand and cast a time charm—Merlin, half-six-bloody-A.M. to shouting. Sirius let out a long breath. It'd been ages since he slept in that long.

He rolled over and yanked back his hangings. Frank Longbottom stood in the doorway, clearly quite prepared to begin another round of yelling.

Sirius threw his legs over the side of the bed and pushed his hair out of his face. "What's going on, Longbottom?" he asked.

Frank scowled at him. "First years need a lecture on discipline. Common room. Now, the lot of you."

James and Peter stared at Frank, bleary-eyed and confused. James's hair stood up in every fathomable direction and he squinted at the scene in front of him, not seeming to remember that he needed his glasses to see it properly. Peter smacked his lips a few times and raised his eyebrows halfway up his forehead to compensate for his droopy eyes, but he stood and stretched and shook the sleep away. Remus, on the other hand, was still sleeping soundly on his bed next to Sirius's. The hangings were open and Remus let out a soft snore, completely oblivious to the commotion around him.

When none of them moved, Frank flicked his wand and a loud screech came from it. Sirius covered his ears. James and Peter both jumped to their feet. Remus kept on snoring.

"I won't say it again!" Frank shouted.

"Alright, alright, we're coming!" James screamed back, over the noise.

Frank eyed Remus's sleeping form. "Everyone downstairs now."

"We'll handle it," Sirius growled.

Frank glared at him for a second, then flicked his wand. The shrieking stopped. Frank turned on his heel, leaving the three boys to wake their friend.

James, Peter, and Sirius surrounded Remus's bed. Remus was on his back, his mouth open, with one arm slung over his eyes, completely dead to the world.

Peter scrubbed the sand from his eyes and leaned over the bed a bit. "Is he… Is he dead?"

"Yes, Pete," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "That's why he's snoring so loudly."

"How do we wake him up?" James asked.

"Do we pour water on him?" Peter suggested.

Sirius shrugged. "Sure, go ahead. And when he wakes up and craves vengeance, I'll be sure to point him in your direction."

Peter gulped and promptly shut up.

"Do you have any suggestions, Sirius?" James asked, flicking his wand at his nightstand. His glasses levitated over to him and James situated them on his face.

"You could try poking him," Sirius said with a shrug.

"Why do I have to try poking him?" James whined.

"Peter's too scared and I'm too beautiful to be strangled this early in the morning."

James rolled his eyes. "Are you serious?"

"I'm always Sirius," he deadpanned.

At that, James yanked Remus's pillow out from under his head and flung it at Sirius.

"Oi!" Remus said, eyes wide and plopping back onto the mattress.

Sirius threw the pillow right back at James.

Remus snatched the pillow out of the air. "If you two are still fighting, then don't get my goddamn pillow involved in your petty squabble."

James and Sirius exchanged a look, then laughed.

"Nah, we're fine," James said, ruffling Remus's curly bedhead. "Sirius just has a horrible sense of humor."

Sirius stuck his tongue out. "You love it." He turned to Remus. "Frank wants us in the common room. Apparently, we have a discipline problem."

Ten minutes later, James, Peter, and Sirius were fully dressed and ready for the day. Remus, on the other hand, was still in his pinstriped pajamas, his hair was untamed, and there was a look in his eyes that spelled death and destruction for anyone who tested his patience.

One glance at Remus, and Sirius couldn't hold back a snort. "Really, really not a morning person, are you?" he whispered, following Remus down the stairs.

"No," Remus deadpanned.

"You're hair's amazing, by the way. Almost as crazy as James's. You should wear it like that more often."

Remus growled at him.

Frank stood in the middle of the common room. The three first year Gryffindor girls stood close to the staircase that led up to their dormitory, looking just as grumpy and disheveled as Remus. Lily Evans had her arms crossed over her chest and a pout on her face. Her red hair was tied back in a messy braid that had clearly been slept on.

Even from across the room, her fury was almost palpable.

Next to Sirius, James Potter stared at Lily like she had descended from the heavens right in front of him.

"Jamie, you're drooling," Sirius said, out of the corner of his mouth.

James's attention snapped to Sirius, shooting him the same, confused look he'd had on the train when Sirius first used the nickname. Before James could ask about it, Frank clapped his hands. On Sirius's other side, Remus flinched at the noise.

Frank surveyed the room, ensuring he had everyone's attention. "Right, then. See that?" He pointed on the mantle above the fireplace, where a large, golden trophy sat. "That's the House Cup. As I'm sure it's been explained to you, Gryffindor earned the cup by having the most points at the end of last term."

Frank paused to look around at the seven first years. Nobody seemed surprised by this.

"Gryffindor has held the House Cup for the past three years running—" Frank continued.

"But not the Quidditch Cup," James said.

"Which is arguably more prestigious," Sirius added.

"Prospects don't look good this year, either," said James.

"Yeah, not if Gryffindor plays the same Keeper as last year," said Sirius.

James shook his head, clearly pained. "Shame, really. We haven't had a good Keeper since Lewis left to play for the Harpies."

Sirius raised his eyebrow. "I thought Lewis played for Ravenclaw."

"Are you kidding?" James said. "Ravenclaw hasn't had a decent Keeper in centuries. Lewis was Gryffindor."

"She graduated in '68 and she was definitely Gryffindor," Marlene McKinnon shouted from the girls' side of the common room. "She was friends with my older brother."

James's face lit up. "How good of friends? Think your brother could score us tickets to a Harpies game?"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Frank shouted.

The first years shut up.

Frank pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn't riled, nor red-faced and furious like Evans, but he was clearly peeved, to say the least.

"Now," Frank said, forcing his voice to calm, "Gryffindor has held the House Cup for the past three years running. As some of you may know—" He threw a pointed glare at James. "—Gryffindor hasn't come in dead last in house points since 1734."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.

"However," Frank continued, his voice slowly losing whatever control he'd had over it a moment ago, "it is only the second day of the term and we're somehow sitting on minus fifty points! Not only that, but three of you have earned detention—"

"Three?" Sirius asked, scrunching his face up in confusion. He exchanged a look with James, then at Remus and Peter.

"Wasn't us," Remus muttered, equally confused.

Slowly, the four boys turned to stare at the girls.

Lily Evans flushed a deeper shade of red.

Sirius smirked. "No way."

James's jaw dropped. "Sirius," he hissed. "I think I'm in love."

"What did you do, Evans?" Sirius asked.

"What did you do, Black?" she shot back.

Sirius threw up his hands in surrender and winked at her. "I made it right."

Lily blinked at him. Though surprised, she clearly understood what he meant. Sirius smirked. Bet she didn't see that coming.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Frank groaned. "The point is, three of you lot are in detention—two of you for an infraction that occurred on the bloody Hogwarts Express—and Gryffindor is not only leagues behind the other houses, but is currently sitting at minus fifty points."

The first years all looked at their feet, the very pictures of remorse and we-promise-to-try-better.

All, except Sirius, that is.

Sirius Black was of the belief that he already had enough about which he could choose to feel guilt. If guilt and shame were to be thrust upon him by any authority figure, let alone Frank Longbottom, Sirius was damn well going to do his part in earning it.

"Hang on, Longbottom," Sirius said. "You said we're minus fifty points?"

"Yes."

Sirius smirked. "Remus, you earned points in Transfiguration, right?"

Remus narrowed his eyes. "Yes."

"How many?"

"Ten."

"Evans, how many points did you lose for your mystery infraction?" Sirius asked.

She scowled at him. "Twenty."

Sirius could taste victory. "And James and I both lost twenty. That makes a grand total of minus fifty."

"What's your point, Black?" Frank snapped.

The four boys looked at each other, all of them hiding wicked grins, all of them on the same page.

"Just to be clear, Remus was the only one in this entire hose to earn points yesterday?" Sirius didn't wait for Frank's reply. "Seems to me the rest of you need to step it up."

"Definitely," James said, mirroring Sirius's smirk.

"But instead," Remus growled, stifling a yawn, "you chose to wake seven first years at the crack of dawn just to inform them that the burden of earning house points lies solely on our shoulders."

"Seems unfair," Peter said.

Frank opened and closed his mouth. His ears turned a bit pink.

"But we're Gryffindors, right lads?" Sirius said.

"Right," James said, echoed by Remus and Peter.

"Right ladies?" Sirius said, catching Lily's eye and throwing her a wink.

Lily valiantly tried to hide a smirk of her own. "Right," she said.

"I'm no expert," Sirius said, with a pointed look at Frank, "but I'm told that Gryffindors are brave."

Frank fumed. "I don't—"

"Which is why," Sirius snapped, cutting him off again, "we're willing to bear the burden of being the sole earners of Gryffindor house points, since the rest of you are, for some reason, incapable of earning points on your own."

"That's not—" Frank started.

"Although," Remus said, now fully awake, with a smile tugging at the edges of his scars. "Sirius, we might be brave, but we're not entirely daft. If the seven of us are the only ones earning points, it's rather unreasonable to assume we'll win the House Cup again."

"That's right." Sirius beamed, proudly. He walked right up to Frank, only slightly miffed that the prefect stood a good head taller than him. "So, Longbottom. Would you settle for not dead last? More specifically, second to dead last? There are only seven of us and, well, let's be honest. James and I have a bit of a grudge against Malfoy that will probably cost us a few points. But, overall, I think we're clever enough to still knock Hufflepuff to the bottom slot."

Frank scowled. "For the love of Merlin, Black—"

"Hey, Frank?" James said. "If we win the Quidditch Cup, would you settle for dead last in house points? Because I can talk to the Captain about—"

"No, Potter!"

"Second to last it is!" Sirius shouted.

"Hear, hear!" James said. Remus and Peter echoed the cheer. Marlene and Dorcas snickered, but clapped along.

Frank buried his head in his hands in defeat. "Fine!" He trained his eyes on Sirius. "You know the goddamned rules. Whatever you do to Malfoy, I don't want to hear about it. And make sure we don't have negative points, Black."

Prefect duties fulfilled, Frank stormed out the portrait hole.

All of the first years took an early breakfast. The girls sectioned themselves off a ways down the table—still basking in Sirius's cleverness, or so he told himself—while the four boys sat closest to the head table. James elbowed Sirius as he sat down and Sirius gasped. Remus shot him a concerned look, clearly ready to say something to James, but Sirius waved him off. He took his place next to James, very carefully out of elbowing distance.

Despite the fact that James and Sirius were now on excellent terms and Sirius no longer feared eating in front of James, Remus still made Sirius's plate and handed it across the table. Disregarding the odd look from Peter, Sirius accepted the plate and poured tea for himself and Remus.

"What do you reckon Care of Magical Creatures will be like?" Peter asked. All Gryffindor first years had a double block of the class after breakfast. "Do you think there'll be dragons?"

Sirius scoffed. "No, there won't be dragons."

"Not until next year," Remus said with a smirk.

Peter gulped.

"Want to have lunch at the lake, afterwards?" James asked. "Might be nice, before winter's here."

"Can't," Sirius said. "I'm meeting my cousin at Hagrid's."

"Your… cousin?" James said, cautiously.

"Andromeda," Sirius clarified. "The only good one out of the lot. She's staying in Hogsmeade. I'd invite you lot, but—"

"Don't worry about it. We'll meet up later," James said, casually waving him off. "Andromeda seems alright."

Sirius smirked, popping a piece of bacon in his mouth. "Yeah, she told me she met you in Diagon Alley. She also said you owed her ten Galleons. What's that about?"

"Merlin, I forgot," James groaned, fishing the Galleons out of the pockets of his robes and tossing the coins to Sirius. "I sort of bet her that you'd fall in line with the rest of your family once you got to Hogwarts."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, mate," Sirius deadpanned. He wasn't too upset about it. Given who the rest of his family was and the types of beliefs they held, Sirius probably would've bet against himself as well.

"In my defense, Andromeda threatened to hex me if I didn't take the bet," James said.

"What about basilisks?" Peter asked, clearly still stuck on the Care of Magical Creatures thing. "Do you think we'll have to fight them?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Merlin, Pete, no. It'll probably be something cute and fluffy. Like McGonagall in cat form."

"McGonagall has claws," Remus reminded him. "And though she may be fluffy, she's still very much a predator."

"There you go, Pete," Sirius said. He reached across the table and snagged some of Remus's bacon, having eaten all of his own. Remus growled, but allowed it. "Cute and fluffy or no, you're probably going to get eaten alive."

Peter whimpered a little. James laughed.

Overhead, the morning owls swooped in. A great brown-and-gold flecked owl landed in front of James and deposited a letter in his lap. James slipped the owl a bit of his biscuit and the bird flew off. Then, James opened it, smiling as he read.

Ten seconds later, another owl swooped in and deposited a letter on Sirius's empty plate. It was the same, unmarked parchment as yesterday. Sirius exchanged a look with Remus over the table. Rather reluctantly, Sirius reached for the letter.

"Sirius, wait!" Remus hissed, his eyes fixed on the letter.

Sirius froze, remembering the boils.

"What's going on?" James asked, looking between the two of them.

Remus ignored him. "Are you going to open it?"

Sirius almost said no, almost flicked his wand and made the stupid fucking letter dissolve into ashes, but then again…

Instead, Sirius tapped the letter with his wand. It teetered a bit in midair, almost as if it were about to fall back onto his plate, but once he tapped it again, the letter opened, just out of James's line of sight.

I told you to stay away from James Potter. You will end any association you have with him immediately and will not so much as SPEAK to anyone like him.

We will discuss your Sorting at Christmas.

Sirius felt himself go pale. He looked across the table, seeking out Remus's amber eyes, desperate for comfort, desperate to know he's safe, here and now.

Come Christmas, he's fucked.

Remus seemed to read his expression. "How bad?" he whispered.

Really, really fucking bad.

Just as he knew she would, his mother had started a list of grievances. She'd keep track, until Christmas, of every breath he took at Hogwarts castle.

Sooner or later, she'd find out about Remus.

Merlin, the things his mother could do to Remus.

"Sirius?" Remus prompted.

"What the hell is going on?" James demanded. "You're freaking me out, mate. What's the letter say? Who's it from?"

Sirius didn't—couldn't—reply.

How long before his mother's fury turned from him and extended out to his friends?

"Oh, for Merlin's sake…" James made a grab at the letter.

Sirius stood, panicked. It was cursed. The letter was fucking cursed. His mother's curse, which could be fucking lethal, for all he knew.

He pointed his wand at the letter. "Incendio!"

The letter and half of Gryffindor table caught fire.

The four boys jumped up, panicking, until James pointed his wand and shouted, "Restinguo!"

The flames died.

The four boys stood frozen. The rest of Gryffindor table gaped at them, but luckily, none of the teachers seemed to be privy to the commotion. Clearly, random fires in the dining hall were not uncommon occurrences.

Ever so slowly, the four boys sank back into their seats.

"What the fuck was that, Sirius?" James hissed.

Sirius gulped, his eyes fixed on the pile of ash in front of him. He let out a slow breath, eyes seeking out Remus for support. Remus, ever the picture of undue sympathy and compassion, gave Sirius a small nod. Without looking at James or Peter, Sirius said, "My mother… Er, well. She wasn't too happy with my Sorting. She has a nasty habit of putting curses on her letters."

James's jaw went slack. "She what?! Sirius, that's illegal. She can't go around cursing her own son, least of all here."

"Strictly speaking, it's not Dark Magic. Or at least it wasn't yesterday," Sirius mumbled.

"Yesterday?" Peter squeaked, alarmed.

Sirius grimaced, kicking himself for his own stupidity. "Boils," he admitted reluctantly.

Remus leaned in closer. "Have they all gone?"

"Most of them," he replied. There were still a few on his chest, open sores that had popped before he'd been able to burn the letter yesterday. All things considered, though, the boils and Kreacher's bruises on his ribs were healing. Compared to a few days ago, he was hardly in any pain, so long as no one touched him.

"Boils," James repeated. His dark, tanned skin appeared vaguely greenish.

Sirius nodded. "Frowned upon, but not strictly illegal. Walburga's speciality," he said, with a bit of a smirk, but his attempt at humor fell flat.

James was silent for a minute, before he slammed his flat palm against the slightly charred surface of the table. Sirius jumped. "That's it," James snapped. "You still have boils? Good. I'm taking you to Dumbledore."

James reached out, grabbing Sirius's wrist.

Sirius reacted immediately, letting out a faint yelp and nearly flew out of his seat. As he did so, he banged his knees on the underside of the table.

Without hesitating, James made to grab Sirius again, but Remus drew his wand and pointed it at James. "James, leave it!" Remus hissed.

James turned on him. "You're okay with this, Remus?!" he demanded. "It's fucking child abuse!"

"Keep your voice down!" Remus stage whispered, glancing around. No one was paying any attention to them, save for Lily Evans, who seemed to have half an ear towards their conversation, all the while nodding along to whatever Dorcas was saying. He lowered his wand.

"I won't fucking stand for this!" James snapped. "He's hurt. His mother cursed him. If you lot won't go to Dumbledore, then I bloody hell will!"

"No!" Sirius shouted. All three boys turned to him, stunned, as did most of the Gryffindor table. Sirius waited a moment, until everyone else lost interest, then lowered his voice. "No, James. You can't go to Dumbledore."

"Why the fuck not?!"

Sirius met dark brown eyes and struggled to keep his voice steady. "Because I'm her son and heir, and look what she's already done to me. You're the son of blood traitors. Remus is a half-blood. Pete, well. Pete's Gryffindor and that's enough. You make her your enemy and nothing will fucking stop her."

"I'm not afraid of your mother, Sirius," James said, puffing his chest a little.

Ever the bloody stupid Gryffindor.

"You should be," Sirius said, without missing a beat. "My mother will curse you black and blue, with whatever she can get away with, and then some. And, James? Speaking from experience, she won't bloody stop at the Unforgivables."

Sirius watched all the anger seep out of James Potter. All that was left was a mask of horror.

Peter gulped, then piped up: "But those… Unforgivables, they're—"

"Illegal?" Sirius prompted, with a self-depreciating laugh. "Yes, but my mother is extremely adept at security wards and, technically speaking, the Ministry can't trace the Unforgivables unless a victim is stupid enough to come forward." He threw a pointed glance at James. "And, if they did, well. My father owns half the Wizengamot and can easily blackmail the rest of them, if it were ever to come to a trial."

James shook his head. "Sirius, you can't just expect us to—"

Yes, I damn-well can.

Sirius had to keep them safe. He'd rather march into hell this very instant and kiss the devil's arse than allow Remus, James, and Peter to go down with him.

"Swear to me," Sirius said.

"What?"

"Swear on your magic you won't tell anyone about this," Sirius said. He looked at Remus and Peter. "All of you."

A little ways down the table, Sirius caught Lily's eye. She was definitely watching, intrigued by whatever was going on, but decidedly looked away. Sirius shook his head. If he had to, he could deal with Evans later.

James gaped at him. "Sirius, you can't expect us to—"

Remus held up his wand. James shut his mouth.

"I, Remus John Lupin, solemnly swear upon my magic and my wand, that I will never speak of the secret atrocities committed by the Blacks to anyone, without the express permission of Sirius Black."

Sirius shot him a weak smile and said, "Thank you."

Remus elbowed Peter, who held out his own wand. "I, P-Peter Percival Pettigrew, solemnly swear on my wand and my magic, that I will never speak of the atrocities committed by the Blacks to anyone, without the express permission of Sirius Black."

Three sets of eyes turned to James.

"Fine!" James said, exasperated. He raised his wand. "I, James Fleamont Potter, solemnly swear on my magic and my wand, that I will not speak of the secret atrocities of the parents of Sirius Black, without the express permission of Sirius Black."

Sirius noted the change in language, but didn't comment on it. Instead, he said, "Your middle name is Fleamont?"

Remus snickered into his tea.

James puffed out his chest a little. "Yes, it is. What's yours?"

"Orion," Sirius said, pulling a face. "Any chance you want to trade?"

Sirius hadn't known what a Clabbert was until he saw one hanging from Professor Cuckoo's arm in Care of Magical Creatures. As per McGonagall's instructions, the first year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors reported to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where they were greeted by none other than Professor Cuckoo and his recently-acquired pet Clabbert, Hickory Dave.

In Sirius's strict opinion, Professor Artemus Cuckoo bore a striking resemblance to the Clabbert, Hickory Dave. Both had abnormally long, lanky limbs not unlike a chimpanzee, and both had pinched, frog-like noses that were far too broad for their respective facial features. The only discernible differences between the two was the copious amount of hair covering Hickory Dave, as well as the rather obvious, green knob that protruded from the Clabbert's forehead.

That, and the fact that Hickory Dave was most certainly female.

Her previous caretaker—an idiotic and eccentric American by the name of Toby Beans—had had an affinity for Kentucky barbecue, but had no practical understanding of any female primate anatomy. He'd only discovered the particular ins and outs of Hickory Dave's biology when she'd fallen pregnant. Unbeknownst to Beans, Clabberts were rather amorous creatures and tended to breed quite rapidly and, much like more than a few country hicks in the Kentucky wilderness, were not entirely opposed to the concept of incest. Poor Hickory Dave had fourteen pups within a year, before ol' man Beans even considered getting her and her children fixed.

Of course, when he did so, the Magical Congress of the United States of America was promptly alerted to the presence of unsanctioned magical creatures and Hickory Dave and her brood were relocated to better homes.

Other than their unreasonably short gestation periods and their affinity for in-breeding, Clabberts, said Professor Cuckoo, were rather docile creatures. They had an extremely heightened sense of smell, especially for primates, a voracious appetite, and were known to be quite cuddly when sleepy, which was why they were often taken from their habitats in Southern America to serve as sort of black market pets for wizarding children. The knobs on their forehead, Cuckoo said, changed color with the Clabbert's mood. More specifically, green was for content and awake, as it was most of the time, blue was for asleep, and red was for mortal danger.

After explaining all this, Professor Cuckoo flicked his wand and small bowls flew into each students' hands. Next to him, Remus held his bowl at arm's length, clearly repulsed by the smell and trying not to breathe too deep. Sirius held his up, for closer inspection. He was pretty sure something was wiggling in the brown and yellow mush. A few of the Ravenclaw girls yelped. Peter dropped his bowl entirely.

"What in Merlin's name is this?" James said, holding his up.

"That, Mr. Potter," said Professor Cuckoo, "is Hickory Dave's favorite lunch. Can anyone tell me what it is?"

James, Sirius, and Remus watched in horror as Lily Evans stuck her finger in the mush, scooped up a bit, and popped it in her mouth. Then, pulling a face, she said, "Mac and cheese, topped with live crickets, mayonnaise, and… Is that barbecue sauce?"

Remus looked like he was going to be sick. Lily didn't appear be doing much better.

"Very good—Evans, was it?" Cuckoo said. Lily nodded. "Ten points to Gryffindor."

"Frank will be so proud," Remus deadpanned.

Sirius barked a laugh. "Was it worth it, Evans?"

"Not at all," she said. "Next time, one of you eats the crickets."

"Hear that, Pete?" Sirius said, leaning over James to look at the shorter boy. "You get Hickory Dave's leftovers."

"Unfortunately, I don't anticipate there being any leftovers. Hickory Dave hasn't eaten since breakfast. I can assure you, she's quite hungry. Plus, it seems that eating tends to keep her mind off her sudden inability to mate," Professor Cuckoo said. "I'd like each of you to come forward and feed her what's in your bowl. This is the primary way to establish trust with a Clabbert. You will need to feed Hickory Dave your entire bowl to earn full marks."

The first years formed a line. Remus snagged James by the elbow and marched him towards the back of the line, casting a wary glance at Hickory Dave. Sirius shrugged and followed. When it was his turn, he tried to wandlessly levitate the food into Hickory Dave's mouth, but after a sharp glare from Professor Cuckoo, Sirius used his fingers. After his bow was empty, Sirius tossed it aside and twirled his fingers, vanishing any trace of Hickory Dave's saliva or her disgusting meal. Sirius took his place next to James. Remus was the last one in line.

However, the second Remus stepped within five feet of Hickory Dave, the Clabbert let out a guttural, ear-splitting wail and the knob on her forehead turned bright red. Several of the Ravenclaw girls screamed right along with it.

Remus immediately stepped back, dropped his bowl, and raised both hands in surrender.

Hickory Dave stopped screaming and the knob turned green again. She kept cautious, beady eyes fixed on Remus. Her nostrils flared.

The second it was quiet again, everyone, including James, Sirius, and Peter, burst out laughing.

Remus, however, seemed almost… heartbroken.

"A-Alright, that's enough!" cried a flustered and confused Professor Cuckoo. "Pick up your bowl and try again, dear boy."

Reluctantly, Remus obeyed. He looked over at the group of first years, and Merlin, there were tears in his eyes.

Sirius stopped laughing immediately and elbowed James, ignoring the zing of pain that shot up his arm at the contact.

Remus took a tentative step forward.

Once more, Hickory Dave let out a wail and the knob on her forehead flashed red. This time, she tried to climb onto Professor Cuckoo's back, trying to put distance between herself and Remus.

Remus backed off again, his eyes focused on the forest floor. "I-I'm sorry, Professor, but I… I don't think she'll let me any closer."

"You sure she's not just… full?" James asked.

"No, no," Professor Cuckoo said, giving Remus an appraising glance. "Unfortunately, it's just her… nature, I suppose." Then, to Remus, he said, "I'm afraid I cannot give you full marks, my boy, but five points to Gryffindor for two valiant attempts."

Remus did not seem to be in any way consoled by earning house points.

"That's enough for today. Read the next chapter in your books for next time. Class dismissed," Professor Cuckoo said, before starting the trek back to the castle, Hickory Dave still hanging off his arm. One by one, the class followed him.

Remus stayed frozen, staring at the ground.

With a quick glance at James, Sirius took a step towards Remus, craning his neck a bit, trying to catch Remus's eye.

"Remus?" he said.

Watery amber eyes met his. "It thought I was a monster," Remus whispered. He bit his lip, right over the scar.

"What? No, it didn't," Sirius said, mildly alarmed. Why on earth would Remus think a thing like that? Sirius cast a look at James and Peter, silently begging for support. The other boys nodded along. "She probably just thought you didn't shower, or something."

Remus, much to Sirius's relief, still had the capacity to look mildly insulted. "I did so shower," he said.

"Then perhaps Hickory Dave didn't like your soap," Sirius said. "She seems rather fussy. She is American, after all."

That earned him a laugh.

"We've got the rest of the period free," James said. "Everyone still up for that picnic?"

Remus and Peter nodded.

"I'll head to Hagrid's now, then," Sirius said. "See if I can't catch Andromeda early. I'll meet up with you lot as soon as I can."

Sirius nearly swallowed his tongue when Hagrid opened the door to his hut.

Hagrid was fucking huge. He consumed nearly the entire doorframe and his beard hung down to his gut. His eyes were soft and kind, though the left one was rather purple and swollen shut. There was a golfball-sized lump on his forehead to complement the black eye.

"Um, hi," Sirius said, shifting awkwardly, trying not to stare. "Is Andromeda here? She told me to meet her—"

"Sirius Black, is it?" Hagrid said.

"Yes." Hesitantly, Sirius stuck out his hand.

Hagrid looked him up and down. "Ah, I wouldn't do that, 'f I were you. 'Dromeda always seems to have a bit of pain whenever it comes to touchin' me. I expect it'll be the same for you."

Sirius yanked his hand back.

"I do 'preciate it, though," Hagrid continues. "Yer mighty brave to offer yer hand to strangers, without knowin' their bloodlines and all." Hagrid shook his head. "Terrible thing fer a parent to do, really, brandin' a child with that kind o' magic. Real sorry 'bout that."

Sirius felt his jaw drop. Hagrid knew about the tattoo on his chest. "Um, thanks," he managed, not knowing what else to say.

"Come on in, then," Hagrid said, standing aside. "I've jus' put on some tea. Hope you're okay with rock cakes for lunch. 'Fraid I don't have much else lyin' around."

Sirius squeezed past him, carefully avoiding contact with Hagrid. The hut was large, and clearly built for someone of Hagrid's size and stature. Sirius sat in a high-backed, stone chair, that made him feel a whole lot younger than he was. From where he sat, his chin was even with the edge of the table. He'd always been a bit short, but this… This was ridiculous.

Sirius turned sideways in the chair, pointedly ignoring the table, and instead, opted for watching Hagrid shuffle around the kitchen, occasionally muttering things to his cooking. "I added salt t' this already, dinnit I? Oh well, bit more never hurt nobody."

Just then, something soft and fluffy crawled into Sirius's lap and made itself comfortable. Sirius let out a yelp, jumped a little, and held his hands above his head in surprise, but the creature just kneaded his lap and let out a purr.

Hagrid turned at the noise and boomed a great laugh. "Oh, that? That there's Spot. She's quite friendly. Excellent judge of character. She won't bite you unless you deserve it."

Spot was covered in long, golden stripes, all the way from the tips of her ears to the extended length of her tail. Her face was a bit squashed and two fangs protruded from her lower lip. Sirius kept his hands in the air and wrinkled his nose a bit.

"I'm, uh," Sirius began, not wanting to offend Hagrid, but not entirely comfortable with the creature in his lap. "I'm not much of a cat person."

"Expect it won't matter much," Hagrid said, amicably. "Spot's not a cat. She's a kneazle. 'S why her tail's so long. That's usually how you can tell. That, and she's real good at sniffin' out untrustworthy folk."

Sirius didn't quite know what to say to that, but he reached out a tentative hand and scratched the kneazle's ears. Spot arched into his touch and let out a contented purr.

"Look-y there," Hagrid said, with a broad grin. "She likes you."

There was a knock at the door. A second later, Andromeda Black pushed the great thing open and stepped inside the hut. "Hagrid?" she said, peering around the door. "Merlin, what happened to your face?"

"'Dromeda," Hagrid greeted, fondly. He set a steaming teapot down on the table, along with two, slightly-cracked cups. "Had a bit of a run in wit' the Whompin' Willow yesterday. Nasty thing, that tree. I was jus' tryin' to make sure it was takin' root properly—Dumbledore just had me plant it over the holidays, see—and it nearly took my head off."

Sirius sat up straight. "The Whomping Willow?" he said.

Andromeda seemed to notice him for the first time. "Sirius!" she exclaimed. She rushed forward, pulled him to his feet, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Spot, apparently anticipating all of this, jumped easily down from Sirius's lap and twined her long tail with Andromeda's legs, still purring.

Though initially shocked at her reaction, Sirius squeezed his eyes shut and clung to his cousin, relishing in the painless physical contact. She held him for longer than was strictly necessary or comfortable, given Hagrid was still in the room, but Sirius was grateful. When finally she pulled away, she kept her hand on Sirius's shoulder even when she took the chair next to him. Spot hopped right back onto Sirius's lap and went to sleep.

"Hagrid," Sirius said, clearing his throat that was suddenly much tighter than it had been before Andromeda walked in. "What were you saying about the Whomping Willow?"

"Jus' that it nearly did me in," Hagrid said. "Now, I figure I should jus' let you two talk." He eyed Sirius. "Expect you've got a lot to talk about and Madam Hooch said there's some gnomes that've taken up in the Quidditch pitch. Reckon I'll head out and handle that."

Hagrid grabbed a large, pink umbrella and opened the door.

"Thank you, Hagrid," Andromeda said, tightening her grip on Sirius's shoulder.

"Thanks," Sirius echoed. Then, before Hagrid disappeared through the door, Sirius said, "Hagrid? Where's the Whomping Willow at?"

"Wha— oh," Hagrid said, pausing. He pointed across the ground. "Jus' there, at the edge of the grounds, towards Hogsmeade."

Sirius made a mental note and ignored Andromeda's curious look.

Hagrid, however, narrowed his eyes. "You ought to stay away from the Whompin' Willow, Sirius Black. 'S not safe, 'specially for a first year." Sirius held his gaze, but made no promises. "Right. Best be going, then."

Hagrid left.

Andromeda flicked her wand and the tea poured itself into the cracked mugs. She held one out to Sirius, who took it in his hand that wasn't currently scratching Spot's ears. "So," Andromeda said, taking a sip of her tea. "How're you holding up?"

Sirius didn't reply right away, just stared straight back at Andromeda. She looked nothing like Narcissa. Andromeda wore her hair long, curly, and dark, where Narcissa's was straight and revoltingly blonde. Andromeda did, however, bear a remarkable resemblance to Bellatrix, though Sirius wasn't ever going to mention it. Andromeda was still a Slytherin and a Black; hexes came as easily as breathing to her, if she thought you deserved it.

Andromeda's eyes were different than Bella's, though. They were grey, like Sirius's, like all the Blacks, for that matter, but Andromeda's were unreasonably kind.

"Sirius?" she said again. "Are you alright?"

Is he alright?

Sirius scoffed. "No," he said. "Not really. But I'm… better than I was that first night, I guess."

Andromeda nodded and took another sip of tea. "How'd she take it?"

"How'd you expect?" he said. He sat forward a bit, and, with his free hand, lifted his shirt. The bruises from Kreacher were yellowing and greenish, a stark contrast to the raw, open sores from the leftover boils.

Andromeda wasn't phased. She simply nodded and drew her wand. "Want me to heal them?" she asked.

"They're from a curse," Sirius said, scrunching his face and lowering his shirt again. "Didn't think you could heal them."

"You can't heal Dark Magic curses," Andromeda said. "This isn't strictly Dark. Or, at least I don't think so. Repifarigo!"

Sirius straightened. The pain in his chest immediately vanished. He lifted his shirt once more, this time revealing only smooth, unmarked skin, save for the tattoo above his heart. "Thanks," he said, earnestly. "Can you teach me?"

Andromeda smiled and repeated the incantation, while demonstrating the wand movement. Sirius mimicked the twirl and flick with his fingers. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Use your wand, you idiot," she said, fondly. "You'll hurt yourself otherwise."

"Right," Sirius said, though, he figured there was a good chance he'd hurt himself anyway, if he tried to use his wand. It hadn't exactly been cooperating with him lately.

"Horrible curses aside," Andromeda said, "how's Gryffindor treating you?"

"Bit of a rough start," Sirius admitted. He reached into his pocket and pulled out James's Galleons. "But James Potter sends his regards."

Andromeda laughed and pocketed the Galleons. "Knew he'd come around. I imagine he was a bit of a prat at first, though."

"Yeah," Sirius said, with a small laugh. "He was, but we're fine now. Besides, I had another friend, before James came around."

"Oh?"

"His name is Remus," Sirius said. He hesitated a bit. "He's a half-blood."

"Ah," said Andromeda, understanding.

"How'd you deal with it, with Ted and everything?" Sirius asked, gesturing to the tattoo on his chest. "I mean, when I shook Ted's hand, it hurt, but I've never felt pain like I do whenever Remus touches me."

Andromeda's eyes widened a bit. "Really?" she said. "And you're sure he's not Muggle-born?"

"Yes," Sirius replied. "His dad was Ravenclaw."

"Huh," Andromeda said. "Have you told him about the tattoo?"

"No," Sirius said. "But he, ah. He kind of guessed. Not specifically, really. Just that it hurts whenever someone touches me."

"Yeah," Andromeda said, setting down her cup and giving him a small smile. "Ted guessed that pretty early on, too. It's harder to hide from someone when you want to scream nearly every time they touch you."

"How'd you handle it?" Sirius asked again. "With Ted. With everyone, really."

"Well," she hesitated. "With Ted, it was different, wasn't it? I, well. I liked him, which basically meant I avoided him for nearly five years, even though he damn well followed me everywhere. Then, I told him the truth."

"The whole truth?" Sirius asked, alarmed.

Andromeda sighed. "No, not at first. But, eventually, yes. I told him all about it. My parents, the pure-blood fanaticism, the tattoo, and the fact that they have three suitors lined up for me to marry. He took a while, but he accepted it. Accepted that I wasn't like them, more like."

"You're not," Sirius said firmly.

She bopped him on the nose. "Neither are you, oh, noble Gryffindor."

Sirius smiled, then twined his fingers with Spot's long, striped fur. "I asked for it, you know," he said. "I asked the Hat for Gryffindor."

Andromeda gave him a sad smile. "I asked it for Slytherin. It kept trying to argue with me that I'd be best suited for Hufflepuff."

"What?!"

She shrugged. "It has something to do with loyalty. I'm sneaky and cunning enough to get away with Slytherin, sure. Plus, there's the whole family history. The Hat just argued that I'm also kind or something else I absolutely couldn't afford to be. Then, well. Guess I wasn't brave enough to be anything other than the embodiment of the tattoo on my chest when I was eleven."

Sirius gaped at her. "I'm not… 'Dromeda, I'm not brave."

"But you want to be," she said, kindly. "More than anything, Siri, you want to be brave."

"Walburga's going to kill me," Sirius said, his voice tense and quiet. "I mean, she's actually going to properly kill me."

"She won't," Andromeda replied, with all the conviction she possessed. "You're the heir, for Merlin's sake. The family won't allow it."

"Then she'll do the next best thing," Sirius snapped. "She'll hex and curse and Crucio me until I can't see straight."

Andromeda was quiet for a minute, before she said, "Siri, if it gets that bad, you have to tell me. I know I don't pull much weight around the Blacks, but I'll get you out of there. I swear it."

Sirius shook his head. "I won't leave Reg."

"Sirius, he'll be okay. He—"

"I won't leave him, 'Dromeda. Ever. If I leave him there, then Walburga takes her fury out on him. Then she starts asking where the fuck she went wrong with me and starts shaping him up to be the perfect, Slytherin heir to the Most Noble and Fucked House of Black. If I'm not there, Regulus becomes the same as Lucius Malfoy. Just another entitled fanatic, ready to sign up with the next Dark Wizard who starts singing the right tune. But—" He took a long, labored breath. "If I'm still there, I can save him."

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why?" Andromeda said again. "Why is it up to you to save him?"

Sirius shrugged, like it's obvious. "He's my little brother."

Andromeda stared at him. "Am I supposed to save Narcissa, then?"

Sirius opened and closed his mouth. Rather than answering that directly, he said, "What's the alternative then? Run away from home? Even if I left Reg behind, where the fuck would I go?" Andromeda opened her mouth, but Sirius cut her off. "If I go to you, or if you helped me, we'd both be disowned and branded proper blood traitors."

He thought of his mother's note, of the words BLOOD TRAITOR staring up at him in her neat, perfect handwriting. He thought of the boils that spread across his chest as he read the words, and all the horrible things those two words would mean for him.

He'd never be able to touch his brother again.

Regulus would be taught to hate him, just like his mother tried to get him to hate James Potter.

Except there was the distinct possibility that Regulus would listen to their mother.

She scoffed. "I'm starting to think being disowned might not be such a bad thing. You should see some of the gits my mother expects to court me these days."

He gave her a weak smile. "Well, I can't risk all that. Whatever you're suggesting, I can't, 'Dromeda. Not now. Not with Reg still stuck there."

Andromeda nodded, seeming to understand. "Then hold your head high and remember why you chose to be cursed instead of run away, my brave, sweet Gryffindor," she whispered. "I'll be there for you, afterwards, you know. Ted's got the best healing potions I know of."

He nodded, stiffly. He didn't want to think about healing potions right now.

"Have you written to Regulus?" Andromeda asked, gently.

Sirius cringed. He hadn't exactly known what to say, though he expected his mother filled Regulus in on his Sorting. "No," he said.

"You should," she replied. "He'd probably scared."

"Scared?" Sirius hadn't thought of that.

"He's been listening to your mother scream for two days."

"Yeah," Sirius said, reluctantly. "She wrote me a letter and called me a blood traitor."

Andromeda nodded. "See? Reg's probably been listening to all the things she thinks are unfit for actual letters and are best said in person. He's bound to be terrified. He cares about you, Siri."

"I know. I'll write to him as soon as I can."

"Good," she said. Then, she clapped her hands together and stood. "Now, I best be off. I told Ted I'd stop by before I head back to the Ministry. Oh, Merlin, we didn't even eat and I… hm."

Andromeda trailed off and stared at Hagrid's untouched rock cakes on the table.

"Are those even edible?" Sirius asked.

"Not particularly," she said. "Best not hurt Hagrid's feelings, though. It was kind of him to let us use his hut."

With a flick of her wand, the rock cakes levitated into the hearth. To Sirius's horror, she had to stoke up the flames quite a bit to get them to burn and, even when they did, they only glowed like coals.

Spot jumped down from Sirius's lap and curled up in front of the fire.

Andromeda reached into her robes and pulled out a vial. "Here," she said, handing it to Sirius. "This is one of Ted's. All the nutrition and calories of a full meal. Tastes kind of like herring, but it'll hold you over."

Sirius eyed the vial, but took it and downed it in one go. "Thanks, 'Dromeda," he said, trying to hide his grimace.

"You'll be alright?" she asked.

"I will be, while I'm here," he replied, with a shrug.

She nodded. "Owl me if anything comes up. I'd love to see you again before the hols. Ted would too. We could meet up here again, until you're old enough to visit us in Hogsmeade."

"That sounds wonderful," Sirius said, relieved to not only have her on his side, but to have her close.

Andromeda stepped forward and pulled him into another bone-crushing hug. Sirius dug his fingers into her robes and held on.

"I love you," she said. "Be careful, yeah?"

"I will."

"The fates never wanted you in Slytherin, Siri," she said with a sad smile. Andromeda planted a kiss on his forehead. "My braveheart, Gryffindor"

Sirius couldn't help but mull over Andromeda's words as he trudged away from Hagrid's hut, a little reluctant to go back to the castle just yet.

My braveheart, Gryffindor.

He wasn't brave.

He hadn't been brave enough to tell Andromeda about his dying wand.

At the thought of his wand, Sirius froze, mid-step. He turned away from the castle, back towards Hogsmeade and the Forbidden Forest.

The Whomping Willow wasn't exactly hard to identify. Even as a sapling, it towered over the surrounding trees and shrubs. Its ash-grey branches flayed wildly at a figure sitting cross-legged, just out of reach of the longest limbs.

"Remus?" Sirius said, genuinely surprised.

Remus jumped and turned to face him, nearly twisting into the Whomping Willow's reach, but he easily ducked out of the way of a stray branch. Outside, in the noon sun, his scars were pale, barely perceptible lines across his face. His eyes glowed a brilliant amber and looked just a little panicked at having been caught in the presence of the Whomping Willow.

"What are you doing here?" Sirius asked.

Remus shrugged, in a clear effort to seem nonchalant. "James and Peter had that picnic," he said, fiddling with the corners of his jumper. And, really, thought Sirius, it was much to warm to be wearing a jumper. "They decided to go swimming in the lake, and I…"

Remus trailed off and gestured helplessly at his face. He refused to meet Sirius's eyes.

It took Sirius a minute to catch on. "Ah," he said, as gently as he could manage. "Scarred all over, huh?"

Remus gaped at him, alarmed. "What?! No, I—"

"Don't worry," Sirius said, holding up his hands in surrender. "I'm not trying to pry, I swear. I just…" He searched for the right words. "I know the feeling. That's all."

Remus stared at him for a long, uncomfortable minute. Then, he gestured to the spot next to him. Cautiously, Sirius sat down next to him, just out of the Whomping Willow's reach. After a few more minutes of silence, Remus mumbled, "At least your marks go away."

No, Sirius thought, absently rubbing his tattoo through his shirt. Not all of them. There was a tattoo on his chest, right above his heart, that read Toujours Pur. He'd rather drop dead of Dragon Pox than let anyone see it.

He didn't dare say any of that out loud.

The two boys sat in silence, dwelling in their respective miseries, for longer than either cared to admit. The Whomping Willow continued to swing at them, its branches groaning and creaking with each swipe, but as much as it strained and croaked, Sirius and Remus remained just out of reach.

"It never stops, does it?" Sirius said, mostly just to fill the silence.

Remus shook his head. "Hasn't stopped trying to strangle me since I got here." He turned to look at Sirius. "Why are you here? You never said."

Sirius shrugged. "Hagrid specifically told me to stay away from this tree."

"So, naturally, here you are."

"Exactly," Sirius replied. He paused for a minute, then reached into the pocket of his robes for his wand. He held it in his lap, twirling it around, tracing the intricate sigils and patterns with his finger.

Remus watched him, a curious look on his face.

"My wand's made from this tree, you know." Sirius's voice came out even and measured, despite the sinking feeling in his gut. It pained him to think about his wand, this beautiful, once powerful thing in his hand that he'd cursed and damned right along with his own soul.

"What?" Remus said, rather sharply. He looked between the wand and the tree a few times, a weird mixture of alarm and shock swimming across his face, in between his scars.

"Yep," Sirius said. "Ollivander said it was made from an enchanted tree, just planted at Hogwarts over the holidays. This one fits the bill, unless you know of any other magical trees around?"

Remus was quiet for a moment, before he said, "No, I don't."

Sirius hummed in reply. "Ollivander said the tree was a guardian of a great secret." He paused to stare down at his wand. "He said that the keeper of this wand was destined to fight for the secrets he keeps, just like the tree the wand's made from."

"Oh," Remus said.

"What, in Merlin's name, could a tree be keeping secret?"

Remus turned his eyes back to the Whomping Willow. "Probably something dark and horrible, I'd imagine," he whispered.

Sirius scrunched up his face. "Why's it got to be dark and horrible?"

"Why else would it be guarded by an enchanted tree that tries to take people's heads off?"

Honestly, Sirius hadn't thought of that. Or, perhaps, he'd been deliberately trying not to think about that.

"Can I…" Remus started. "Can I see your wand?"

Sirius stared at him for a second, considering. Then, he flipped the wand over in his hand and held the handle out to Remus.

Sirius watched as Remus's amber eyes went wide. "Merlin, Sirius," Remus said, feeling the wand in his hand. "It's heavy. And…"

"And what?" Sirius asked, mildly alarmed. Could Remus sense that the wand was dying? Could he feel the Dark Magic Sirius had cast to save his little brother?

"It's cold," Remus said simply.

It's dying, Sirius wanted to say, just to get it off his fucking chest, but he bit his lip. "Ollivander said…" Sirius started, trying to control the tremble in his voice, "that he'd had a hard time finding a wand core that fit with the enchanted wood. That's why it's all… wonky, sometimes."

It wasn't a complete lie. Not really. For all intents and purposes, it was mostly true, except the wand core had fit, had suited him perfectly, before he'd gone and poisoned it.

"What kind of core, then?" Remus asked.

"Unicorn hair," Sirius mumbled.

Remus gave him a small smile and handed the wand back. "Wand cores can be replaced, you know."

"They can?" Sirius squeaked, unable to fully contain the sudden burst of hope that swelled in his chest.

Remus nodded. "I read about it in a book. The History of Western Wand-Crafting, or something like that. Sometimes cores—especially unicorn hair—wear out or are destroyed. The right wand-maker can forge a new core with the same wood. The tricky part is getting it to fit with the same wizard or witch. Most opt to get a new wand instead of replacing the core."

"Yeah, well," Sirius said, "I won't have any luck with that. This is the only wand that even remotely obeyed me."

"Then perhaps you should look into switching out the core."

"How?" Sirius asked, genuinely curious. "Do I just walk up to a unicorn, pluck a strand of hair from its tail, and hope I don't get kicked in the face?"

Remus laughed a little. "No," he said. "Besides, if Ollivander said the wand core doesn't fit the wood, then maybe you shouldn't be looking for a unicorn hair at all. Wands can be made using hairs, heartstrings, or teeth from any magical creature. Maybe find one that's a bit more comparable with the wood from an enchanted tree."

"Huh," Sirius said, thinking it over. "Think Hickory Dave will be up to donating a hair to the cause?"

Remus snorted. "Doubt it. You should owl Ollivander. See if he has any suggestions."

If Sirius owled Ollivander, he'd have to explain why his wand was dying in the first place. Still, he managed a smile and said, "I'll think about it."

Remus held his gaze for a second, before he stood. "We should get back."

Sirius stood as well, except he stumbled a bit on the edge of his robes and staggered towards the tree. He felt the whoosh as the Whomping Willow's branches all changed direction, converging on him. He was vaguely aware of Remus shouting his name.

On pure instinct, Sirius raised his wand, squeezing his eyes shut, anticipating the impact.

Five seconds later, he was still standing. Sirius opened his eyes.

The Whomping Willow was calm, almost frozen, save for the gentle sway of its branches.

"Holy shit," Remus said.

Sirius lowered his wand a bit. The branches seemed to track and mimic the movement.

Then, even as the two boys continued to stare at the tree in amazement, Whomping Willow bowed before Sirius's wand.

He threw a glance at Remus, then lowered his wand completely. The Whomping Willow did not move. Hesitating slightly, Sirius took a step forward, then another, until he was standing right under the low-hanging branches. He reached out a hand, then placed it flat on the trunk.

Objectively speaking, Sirius Black had been exposed to a great number of magical artifacts, places, and people from a very young age. He was naturally attuned to the magical lifeblood that tended to course through such people and things. It is not unfair to say that he's quite competently able to tap into that magical undercurrent from time to time, with a wave of his fingers or a flick of his wrist. That, essentially, was what wandless magic entailed, after all.

But this tree… Merlin, it was alive with magic. That wasn't what surprised him.

It was the innocence, the purity, the… latent protective fury he sensed just underneath the surface. Whatever secret the Whomping Willow guarded, it was precious—sacred, almost—and worth any amount of pain and suffering so long as it remained protected.

The secret was loved by the Whomping Willow. There was no other plausible way to describe it.

Sirius didn't know how long he stood there, basking in the remarkable magic of the Whomping Willow, before he managed to pull his hand away.

Remus stared at him, about a thousand emotions flashing across his eyes. Sirius couldn't read a single one of them and it annoyed him how much that hurt.

"Come on," Remus repeated. "Let's go back."

That night, in detention, Slughorn left six cauldrons on his desk and a note on the chalkboard that read, Polish all of these before you leave. No magic. I'll know if you cheat.

"Where's Slughorn at, then?" James asked, selecting a cauldron and moving it to one of the desks. He wrinkled his nose at the smell.

Sirius waved his hand in front of James's face, once again temporarily numbing his sense of smell. He repeated the spell on himself. "He has a previous engagement," Sirius said, remembering his now-revoked invitation to dinner. "Just a few of his favorites from prominent families and what not. I was told that Malfoy and Narcissa would be in attendance. Probably guests-of-fucking honor."

James snorted. "And look at you. The heir to House Black, stuck in detention, instead of kissing the arse of some ratty old professor and sipping fancy wine."

"To be quite honest, I'd prefer to be here, cleaning cauldrons filled with… Merlin, what is this stuff?" Sirius cautiously poked the viscous greenish sludge adhered to the rim of his cauldron.

"Flobberworm entrails."

Both boys turned to see Lily Evans storm into the room, grab a cauldron off Slughorn's desk, then slam it down right next to Sirius's. She grabbed a scrub brush, rolled up the sleeves of her robes, and got to work.

James and Sirius gaped at her.

"Careful," Lily said, glancing at the goo on Sirius's finger. "Get that in your eye, and you'll go blind."

He followed her gaze, then wiggled his fingers a bit. He didn't quite know if she was telling the truth or having one over on him, but he wasn't going to risk it. The flobberworm goo disappeared from his hand.

Next to him, James remained frozen, his mouth agape and catching flies. Once again, James couldn't seem to take his eyes off of Lily.

"So," Sirius began, turning back to Lily. She ignored him. "Not only did you get detention, but you got detention from Slughorn. We haven't even had him in class yet."

Lily continued to ignore him. She didn't even seem bothered by the smell. She just kept scrubbing her cauldron.

Sirius slid into the seat next to her and leaned in close. "No, really, Evans. What did you do?"

Lily huffed, clearly irritated by his pestering. "I broke into the Slytherin dormitories."

"What?!" Whatever Sirius had been expecting, it wasn't that.

James looked rather gobsmacked. "Lily Evans, will you marry me?"

"Oi, Potter!" Sirius whirled back to face him, feigning betrayal. "I help you execute a truly brilliant prank that involved Malfoy running naked through a crowd, and all I get is a bunch of peas dumped on me? Where the hell is my marriage proposal?"

This, thankfully, seemed to snap James out of his Lily-Evans-induced trance. He glared at Sirius. "If you manage to break into the Slytherin dormitories without being caught, I'll buy you a ring and snog you right in the middle of the Great Hall."

Sirius smirked. "You're on, mate."

Lily looked between them. "You two are insane."

"Thank you," Sirius replied. "Now, Evans, I need details. How'd you do it and why?"

"I'm not telling you how," she said, smoothly. "I know you're a bit desperate for that kiss, Black, but I can't make it too easy."

"Fine," he conceded. "Then why, in Merlin's name, did you break into the Slytherin dormitories?"

"My friend's in Slytherin. He was being a prat. I wanted to talk to him."

Huh. Just the facts, then, Sirius thought. Lily shrugged, tried to play it off as casual, but Sirius could see the pain and hurt just below the surface. She wore the mask well, though. He'd give her credit for that. If he hadn't known the act—hadn't worn that mask a hundred times himself—he wouldn't have noticed. James certainly didn't.

"You have friends in Slytherin?" James asked, incredulous.

"Yes, why?" Lily shot back, defiantly. "Does that mean our brief engagement is off, Potter?"

"Yes. No. Maybe. I don't know," James stammered, looking incredibly conflicted.

"Which friend?" Sirius said, trying to save James from embarrassing himself further.

"Severus."

"Snivellus?!" James said.

Lily put down her scrub brush and glared at Sirius. "You taught him that?"

Sirius shrugged. "Why was your friend being a prat?"

"Why the hell should I tell you?" Lily snapped.

"You don't have to," he said. "You just seemed upset."

Lily Evans seemed rather taken aback by this. "Severus has made friends in Slytherin and… They don't like me."

"Why don't they like you?" James asked.

At the same time, Sirius said, "Which friends?"

Lily looked between them, trying to decide which question was safer to answer. After a second, she met James's eyes. "I'm Muggle-born. The Slytherins seem to find that offensive."

Sirius nodded and leaned back in his seat. "Ah, Jamie, so not only did Snivellus rat us out to Malfoy and ol' Sluggie, but he's actually managed to make friends with the git."

Lily flushed red. "Well, what would you do, Black? He needed friends and—"

"He needed protection," Sirius snapped. "He's a half-blood, isn't he?"

"How did you—"

"I have my sources," Sirius replied, remembering Narcissa brushing against Snape on the Hogwarts Express and her cringe of pain. "Snape needs protection, because the alternative is having Malfoy treat him just the same as he treats you. It's all about blood purity to them."

"And it's not to you?" Lily shot back.

"Obviously not. I'm Gryffindor, aren't I?"

"Fine," Lily said. "Then shake my hand."

How the hell did she possibly know about that? Sirius thought. He eyed her hand, knowing the pain it would cause, knowing what both her and James would think if he refused.

He shook her hand. Merlin, the pain coursed through him, like fire in his bones, but Sirius held firm, kept his gaze focused on her remarkably green eyes, and grit his teeth through it.

Much to his surprise, Lily pulled away first, with a tiny yelp. Her face scrunched up and she shook her hand.

James, suddenly a knight in shining flobberworm goo, drew his wand and pointed it at Sirius. "What'd you do?"

"N-nothing!" Sirius protested, just as shocked as James. "I didn't do anything!"

She shouldn't be in pain. Not from touching him. He couldn't transfer the curse, could he? No. There was no way. Lily didn't have a tattoo. She was Muggle-born, for Merlin's sake. A normal, boring, incorruptible Muggle-born witch. No one held her down and branded her skin when she was eight years old.

"Potter, stop! It wasn't him."

"Then what was it?!" Sirius demanded, trying and mostly failing to keep the rising panic out of his voice.

Lily refused to look at them and took to staring at her hand. "A parting gift from Malfoy," she said, her voice quiet. "He said it was to help me remember what I am, at least for a few days. I didn't notice it at first—not really—not until…" She took a shaky breath. "Not until Divination, this afternoon. Marlene was supposed to read my palm and..."

Sirius's heart was in his throat. "It hurt when she touched you?"

Lily nodded.

They've weaponized it. Salazar's balls, Malfoy's figured out how to use the curse without the tattoo.

"I switched partners," Lily continued. "I was fine when… When Dorcas read my palm."

"She's Muggle-born," Sirius said. It wasn't a question.

Again, Lily nodded.

"And it hurts when you touch me or probably James or when you brush up against a good number of people in the halls?" Sirius asked.

"Yes," she said. "Touching you… hurt a lot."

Feeling's mutual, he thought. It hadn't been nearly as painful as touching Remus, but she was still Muggle-born. If he hadn't been anticipating the pain, he'd have reacted just the same as she did.

James looked between the two of them. "Will one of you please just explain what's going on?"

Sirius glanced at Lily, who nodded. "It's a blood curse," he said. "A temporary one, but still a blood curse."

"What's that mean?"

Sirius sighed, praying to the gods that he doesn't give too much away. "It's an old pure-blood custom. Some families… Well, they'd tattoo their kids with a mark of some kind, in a blood spell ritual. The intent was to keep their children from being able to touch anyone of a lesser blood than themselves. It's to stop them from marrying Muggles and tainting the bloodlines, or something."

"That's barbaric," Lily said, the disgust plain in her voice.

Sirius felt his throat constrict and he struggled to maintain control. "It… It is. Yours, though… Malfoy must have modified the curse, to make you feel the pain if you touch someone of a more pure bloodline."

"So when I touch Dorcas, it doesn't hurt, because she's Muggle-born," Lily said. "Like me."

"Exactly," Sirius said.

"How long will it last?" James asked, looking slightly pale.

"For pure-bloods, it's the tattoo that seals the blood curse," Sirius said. "She doesn't have a tattoo, so whatever curse he did can't hold long. Couple days, at most." Then, to Lily, he said, "When did he curse you?"

"Last night," she said. "Right after he caught me in Severus's dorm."

"Is there any way to reverse it?" James asked.

"Not that I know of." Sirius sighed. Merlin, he'd give anything to be able to answer that question differently.

"I'll look into it," Lily said. She narrowed her eyes at Sirius and for a brief second. Merlin, it was like she'd looked into his soul and seen every dark secret that was there. "In case Malfoy tries to curse me again," she clarified, almost as an afterthought.

"Right," he said, a little unsure of his voice. "In the mean time, Jamie, we've got to find a way to get back at Malfoy."

Without hesitating, Lily said, "I want in."

"No!" James and Sirius shouted, a bit too quickly.

"Why the hell not?" Lily snapped, crossing her arms.

"You need to stay off Malfoy's radar," Sirius said, slowly. "Otherwise, he'll just renew the curse as soon as it wears off."

"Plus, he's a prefect," James said. "Even if we told someone, he's likely to get away with it."

"I'm not a damsel in distress, you know," Lily spat. "I'm not yours to protect."

"Didn't say you were," Sirius replied, before James could say something stupid. "Look, if you want to get back at Malfoy, I'll help you plan an elaborate, complicated, and anonymous prank that he'll never be able to trace back to you. But this?" He gestured to her hands. "This calls for immediate action and public humiliation. James and I can take the fall for whatever happens. All it will cost us is a couple detentions and probably cause Frank to have a small aneurism, but it'll be worth it."

Lily seemed conflicted, warred with herself for a minute, then threw her hands up in defeat. "Fine," she said. "But whatever you do, you'll keep Severus out of it."

James and Sirius exchanged a look.

"Alright," James said.

"Good." Lily picked up her scrub brush again. "And Potter?"

James perked up, eager for her attention. "Yes?"

"I'm afraid our break-up is still rather fresh for me. I don't know if I'm quite ready to be friends with you just yet."

James pouted. "What? I—"

Sirius cackled. "You're alright, Evans."

"Oi!" James smacked his shoulder. Sirius winced a little, but otherwise shook it off.

"Now, Jamie, about this little bet of ours," Sirius said. "Is there a consolation snog if I break into the Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff dorms?"

SEPTEMBER 4, 1971

James and Sirius both rose early the next morning, despite the fact that it was Saturday, as James repeatedly told Sirius on their way down to the Great Hall. They spent most of the morning sipping tea—well, coffee for James—and catching up on the homework they'd put off because of their evening detentions. Peter joined them around nine, just as the last of the food was disappearing.

Two hours later, a disheveled and disoriented Remus Lupin trudged into the Great Hall, still wearing his pajamas and dressing gown. Like the day before, his unruly curly hair stuck out in almost every direction, except for the left side, which had, until recently, been comfortably pressed into his pillow. Remus took his usual seat at the table, across from Sirius, folded his arms, and went right back to sleep.

The three boys stared at him, then at each other. After a second, Sirius summoned a kettle and poured a cup of tea. "Wake him up," he said to James.

As carefully as he could, James nudged Remus. Remus let out a long groan, then sat up, his eyes still closed.

Sirius slid the cup of tea across the table. Remus grabbed it and took a long drink.

"You alright, mate?" Sirius asked, leaning in a little.

Remus was pale today and the scars on his face were pinkish and rather obvious. After taking another drink of his tea, Remus managed to nod and opened his eyes.

"Holy shit," Sirius said.

"What?" James asked, alarmed, looking betweens the two of them, trying to figure out what was wrong.

"Your eyes," Sirius said to Remus, leaning in even closer. "They're gold."

They were, too. Deep, shimmering gold, like freshly polished jewelry left out in the sun. Sirius had never seen anything quite so inherently mesmerizing.

Remus flushed bright red and stared pointedly down at the table, even as James and Peter tried to see his eyes for themselves.

"They definitely were not gold yesterday," Sirius said.

"Trick of the light and sleep deprivation," Remus mumbled, still avoiding their gazes.

"Sleep deprivation?" James asked. "Mate, it's almost noon."

"What?" Remus said, mildly alarmed.

"Remus, are you alright?" Sirius asked again, a feeling of unease settling over him. Something was wrong, something was about to happen, he was sure of it.

"I—" Remus started, then sighed. "I have to go away for a few days. I'm leaving tomorrow afternoon."

"What? Why?" Sirius demanded.

"For how long?" Peter asked.

"You'll miss Quidditch tryouts!" James exclaimed, apparently quite offended by this.

"I thought first years couldn't try out," Peter said.

"They can't," James pouted. "But I figured it'd be as good of a time as any to acquaint Remus here with the wonderful world of Quidditch, before—"

"Remus," Sirius said, his voice firm and unrelenting. James immediately shut up. "Why do you have to go away for a few days?"

Sirius regretted his tone instantly, when Remus finally looked up at him. Tears glistened in his eyes, making the gold irises dance and glitter through whatever secret Remus was keeping. Sirius's face fell, horrified he'd made Remus look like that: scared, lonely, and helpless to whatever tragedy lurked behind his scars and his golden eyes.

"M-my mum," Remus stammered. He took a deep breath and his voice evened out. "She's… sick. It's just me and my dad, and he works quite a bit, so she needs my help when there's a flare-up. She, uh. I need to go home and… and make sure she's alright."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. It sounded like a lie, like any one of the thousands he's told to excuse his own panic, to hide the fact he can't touch anyone less than pure-blood, or to hide any one of the injuries he'd recently acquired. But that look in Remus's eye… Whatever waited for Remus at home, it fucking terrified him.

Sirius knew the feeling, that one of dread so powerful and overwhelming that you feel it in your bones.

His stomach turned over at the mere possibility that Remus Lupin, who was so kind and wonderful and tolerant of Sirius's secrets… that Remus had to face the same kind of monster Sirius did, every time he set foot in Grimmauld Place.

"Don't go," Sirius said.

James and Peter turned and stared at him.

Remus made a strangled noise and ducked his head, but not before Sirius saw a tear fall down his cheek. "Sirius, I…" Remus's voice sounded coarse and painful. "I have to go. I don't have a choice."

"What's wrong with your mum?" Peter blurted. Sirius shot him a glare.

Remus, however, didn't seemed to mind the question. "It's a Muggle thing, called lupus. There's no cure, but she's not dying. It's… it's a chronic condition and she has bad days every once in a while. Can hardly feed herself or anything, and when my dad's not there, well. That's why I have to go home." He paused, tried to meet Sirius's eyes, but quickly looked away again. "My parents, they… They talked to Dumbledore before I came to Hogwarts. He's aware of the situation and has agreed to let me leave when I need to."

"When will you be back?" James asked.

"Don't know for sure," Remus muttered. "Probably a couple of days, at least."

"What about your classes?" Peter asked.

"Take notes for me?" Remus said, sheepishly. "Look, I'm sorry to have to ask that, but I don't—"

"It's not a problem," Sirius said, quickly.

Remus looked at him and the two stared at each other for a long moment.

Eventually, James slammed his hand on the table. "Right," he said, hesitantly "Well, Slytherin's holding their Quidditch tryouts today. Peter and I are going to go stake out the competition. Do you two want to—"

"No," Sirius said. A second later, Remus shook his head as well.

"Right," James said. "Catch you later, then. C'mon, Pete."

James and Peter left. Aside from a few Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs just a tad bit too eager for lunch, Sirius and Remus were alone in the Great Hall.

Sirius couldn't shake the feeling that something felt off, like he was staring out over a cliff with jagged rocks at the bottom, with a sudden and inexplicable urge to jump. The air between him and Remus buzzed with danger, with fear, and that horrible, indescribable scent of impending doom. From the look in his bizarrely golden eyes, Remus felt it too.

"Why can't someone else look after her?" Sirius asked, knowing how selfish and horrible his question sounded.

"I told you," Remus said, quietly. "There's no one else. Has to be me."

"Why?" It was redundant, he knew. He was grasping at straws, trying to find something—bloody anything—that would convince Remus not to go. "You're in school, for Merlin's sake. She's got to understand that—"

"She's my mum, Sirius."

"If my mother were suffering like that, I'd do a dance at her bedside and let her fucking rot."

"My mum doesn't send me curses via owl post," Remus snapped.

"No?" Sirius shot back, his temper rising. "Did she do that to your face? Or did you really fall out of a tree?"

Remus fucking growled at him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Sirius opened and closed his mouth. "Remus, I— Merlin, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry. I didn't—"

"I know, Sirius," Remus snapped, in between heavy breaths. Then, avoiding Sirius's eyes and still looking rather upset, he stood. "Look, I have some things to take care of, before I leave. I'll see you around."

"Remus, wait—"

He was already gone.

Sirius Black did not mope.

Or, at least, if you asked him a week ago, he definitely did not mope. The occasional violent rampage, sure. He'd been known to break a few of Walburga's fine china just to get back at her. And, though he'd loathe to admit it, there's been a time or two where he's cowered in the corner and cried his bloody eyes out, but he did not mope.

Apparently, Remus Lupin was the exception to nearly every rule Sirius had, because he sure as hell was moping now.

He spent most of the day shuffling aimlessly around the castle, trying to focus on an essay or a bit of reading for McGonagall, but it was almost entirely useless. He's pretty sure that however many coherent sentences he was able to string together ended abruptly with, "I'm so fucking sorry" or, "Please, don't go." He made a mental note to rewrite them after he tracked Remus down, groveled a bit, and managed to make an adequate apology whilst still maintaining his stark opposition to Remus's upcoming trip.

The problem was, of course, no matter where he looked, he couldn't find Remus.

James and Peter were no help; they spent the afternoon down on the Quidditch pitch, mostly booing and hissing at the Slytherin team. Sirius made his way into the stands, around three in the afternoon, to ask if they'd seen Remus, but they hadn't.

Sirius distracted himself, mostly, by writing a letter to Regulus. It took him the rest of the afternoon, as he kept scribbling it out, crumpling it up, starting over, only to end the letter to his little brother by crafting some apology to Remus once again. Eventually, he settled on short and to-the-point:

Reg,

I'm sure you heard the news. I'm doing alright, though, I promise. I've managed to make a few friends. All things considered, I'm glad this is the way it played out.

The ceiling in the Great Hall is fucking spectacular. I can't wait for you to see it for yourself.

I hope you're doing okay there, by yourself.

I love you,

Sirius

P.S. If Mrs. Blanche Withers tries to read this, please tell her I respectfully said she should go fuck herself.

By the time dinner rolled around and Remus still hadn't turned up anywhere, Sirius was entertaining the possibility that the castle had spontaneously decided to swallow him whole.

Remus wouldn't leave without saying goodbye, would he?

James and Peter spoke animatedly about the Slytherin Quidditch team. "Did you see the grip Malfoy had on his broom? You can't make a single, bloody turn with a grip that tight, let alone dodge a bludger. If he handles his cock like he handles his broom, Merlin, it's no wonder he's—"

"Please, stop!" Peter squeaked, covering his ears.

As much as Sirius would normally love to join in a conversation regarding Malfoy's inadequate manhood, he couldn't seem to focus on anything but the cold potatoes on his plate and his need to find Remus.

Sirius stood abruptly and headed for the dormitory. If he's being quite honest, he's not even sure James and Peter noticed he'd gone.

Once inside the boys' dormitory, Sirius begins pacing. Remus wasn't anywhere, for Merlin's sake. Even if he was, he probably didn't want to talk to Sirius, probably wouldn't accept an apology. He'd go off to his family, they'd hurt him, maybe take him away forever, then Sirius would never get to apologize. He'd lose his first friend—the first person to believe he could be different than the expectations placed upon him by his family—just like that.

Sirius tugged his hair in frustration and sat down on the edge of his bed, suddenly trying to fight back tears. He couldn't do this—he didn't want do do this—without Remus.

The hangings on his bed billowed around him, and there was a slight chill coming from—

Oh.

Sirius stared at the open window that led to the roof.

Of course, that's where he was. In retrospect, it's the perfect spot. Obvious, but not intuitive. Safe, but solitary.

In a random and rather unexpected bout of inspiration, Sirius went to his trunk and dug out a Honeydukes chocolate bar that he knew Regulus snuck into his trunk, despite Sirius's insistence that he very much detested chocolate. ("You gave me stars, I give you chocolate," Regulus had said, with a slight pout. "If you won't eat it, make a friend.")

Make a friend.

Taking a breath and going over the thousands of apologies he'd worked out over the course of the afternoon, Sirius crawled out the window and onto the slated, shingled roof.

Remus sat there, his knees pulled up to his chest, a thick, wool blanket wrapped around him. He didn't look at Sirius as he made his way carefully onto the roof. Merlin, they were up high. Gryffindor tower stood tall and proud, and overlooked most of the castle. It was a beautiful sight, really; the sun had set and cast the grounds in a dull, purplish glow. The mostly-full moon sat low on the horizon and a few stars dotted the sky.

"Hey," Sirius said, sitting down next to Remus. Hesitating slightly, Sirius nudged him, when Remus still refused to acknowledge him. The touch didn't particularly hurt, nor did he think it would, with that thick blanket wrapped around him, but it still stung a little. Nothing near the pain he knew he'd come to expect from touching Remus.

Sirius held out the chocolate bar. "I brought this for you."

Finally, Remus looked at him. Merlin, his eyes gleamed, golden and perfect, in the fading light. It was eerie, really, but absolutely breathtaking. There was a ferocity in Remus's eyes that Sirius had not anticipated, as well as a brokenness, that he'd seen so clearly earlier.

Remus took the chocolate and turned back to the stars.

"I…" Sirius started. Merlin, why was this so hard? "I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it and it was totally uncalled for."

"It's alright, Sirius," Remus said, quietly.

"No, it's not. No, it's fucking not," he snapped, before he could stop himself.

Remus blinked at him.

"Merlin, I'm sorry. Again," he mumbled. "I'm no good at this. I shouldn't have said that. And… And I didn't want you to leave without being able to apologize to you, because…"

"Because?" Remus prompted.

Because what if you don't come back? What if they tear you apart, carve out your skin, until there's nothing left?

"Please don't go," Sirius breathed. It just came out, entirely without his permission. He slammed his eyes shut, couldn't let Remus see the tears.

"I have to," Remus whispered. "I'm sorry, Sirius, but I have to go."

His mind conjured up half a dozen things he wanted to say in a fraction of a second. Dangerous things, that gave away how fucking scared he was. Things like, No you fucking don't have to go, and, Please, Remus, you can stay here, where you're safe, where no one can hurt you.

Then, worst of all: I won't let you go.

"Then…" He fought for control of his voice. "Then promise me you'll be alright. That you won't get hurt."

"I—I can't promise that."

Why the fuck not? he almost said. Why the fuck are you going if you can't promise me you'll be safe?

But then, suddenly, it all made sense.

"Is this the dark and horrible secret?" Sirius asked. "The one you can't tell me?"

Remus was quiet for a long, drawn out moment. "Part of it, yes," he said, and Sirius started to panic. Remus reached for him, trying to calm him, but pulled back. "Sirius… it's not… It's not what you're thinking."

Sirius thought someone was hurting him, someone Remus knew was carving into his flesh like he was a Sunday roast, no mercy, no hesitation. Someone was etching those horrific scars all across his skin.

"If I went to Dumbledore and begged…" Merlin, he couldn't keep the desperation out of his voice. "Could I come with you? Just to make sure you're safe. I'll help with your mum, whatever you need, but could I—"

"No!" Remus snapped, his eyes flashing in momentary panic. "No, Sirius you can't come. Not ever, do you understand?"

No, he didn't fucking understand.

"I'll just follow you," he said, defiantly.

Remus's voice was low, almost a growl. "Don't you dare. Don't you fucking dare. Please, Sirius, it's too dangerous."

"I'm not scared." Well, not scared enough to stop me from following you.

"You damn-well should be!" Remus shouted. Sirius froze, utterly taken aback. Remus sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. Then, in a measured voice, he said, "Why are you so convinced I'm going to get hurt?"

"Because you're fucking terrified!" Sirius snapped, his verbal filter suddenly retiring for the evening. "Because you won't let me follow you because it's too dangerous. Because you have scars across your face that had to have happened somehow. Because I fucking know what its like to be surrounded by monsters trying to hurt you for no other reason than because you're fucking there!"

Oh, Merlin. He hadn't meant to say all that.

Remus looked… well, heartbroken was the best word for it. "M-monsters?" he repeated.

Sirius shimmied a little closer, wanting to hug Remus, wanting to pull him into his arms and hold him so he'd never leave, but he couldn't. Even with the blanket, it'd hurt too goddamned much. He felt utterly helpless.

"You don't have to go," Sirius whispered.

"Yes, I do."

It sounded like a death sentence, like a white flag flying over a blood-stained field.

It made Sirius's blood boil.

"No, you fucking—"

Remus glared at him, his golden eyes flashing in the pale moonlight. "Why didn't you let James take you to Dumbledore yesterday? Why did you make us swear we'd keep that secret?"

Shit. Sirius knew where he was going with this. "This is different," he insisted.

"Is it?" Remus asked. "You made us swear to that secret because someone else would've gotten hurt otherwise. You chose that burden, that pain, that curse, because you didn't want us hurt in your place." He took a breath, and a few tears streaked down his face. "Me? I don't get that choice. I don't get to choose to take on that burden. It's mine to bear, whether I like it or not. But the end result is the same."

Sirius was stunned. He took a minute to mull that over. Remus was… forced into this? And if he didn't go, then…

"You-You're saying—" Merlin, Sirius's voice was shaking and he couldn't bloody stop it. "You're saying someone will get hurt if you don't go? Remus, who? Please, just let me help—"

"You can't help, Sirius." Remus fiddled with the corners of his blanket. "No one can. But I—I still have to go."

"To keep someone safe."

Bright, golden eyes stared straight into his soul. "To keep you safe," Remus whispered.

That doesn't make any sense, he desperately wanted to scream.

Instead, he gazed into Remus's eyes, silently begging for answers. "Safe from what?"

Remus sighed. "That's the secret, Sirius. That's the dark and horrible secret that you can't know. Not until…"

"Not until we're brave enough," Sirius breathed, echoing the promise they'd made to each other on that first night.

"Yes."

Sirius felt his eyes welling again, this time in defeat. He hated feeling helpless, and this? This just fucking sucked. He let out a breath. "Alright. Is…Is there anything I can do?"

Remus gave him a small smile and held up the chocolate bar. "Share this with me?"

Sirius barked a laugh. "Can't. I'm allergic."

Remus quirked an eyebrow. "You're serious about that?"

"I'm Sirius about everything."

This time, Remus laughed. "That is a terrible joke."

Sirius nudged him with his shoulder. "You love it."

Initially, Remus froze at the contact, but when Sirius showed no outward sign of pain, he asked, "Why'd you have the chocolate if you can't eat it?"

Sirius smiled. "Because my brother's a chocolate advocate. He, too, is greatly offended that I won't eat it. He thinks if he drops enough hints, I'll just give in."

"Good man, your brother."

"Yeah," Sirius said. "The very best."

This time, Remus pressed against him, just for a second, the blanket still between them. Sirius closed his eyes, allowing himself to cherish the contact, even if it was only temporary.

After a second or two, Remus pulled away. "Does… Does that still hurt?"

Sirius shrugged. "A little. But not like it does without the blanket."

"You still feel the… pain through clothes, though?"

"Yes. It's worse with bare skin, but yes. Clothes don't seem to matter much."

He didn't know why it was so hard to talk about this with Remus, when he'd basically spelled out the details of the curse to James and Lily in detention. They didn't know specifics, of course, and definitely not that he bore one of those tattoos, but they knew a hell of a lot more than Remus. Sirius wanted to talk about it, wanted to tell Remus why he couldn't touch him, but…

Remus knew about his mother. Hell, he'd sworn to keep her atrocities secret, but this…?

This was too much. He was branded by a pure-blood family, who hated people like Remus. Sirius's very touch was cursed with an inbred darkness that went back centuries.

Remus took a substantial bite out of the chocolate, moaning a little as it melted in his mouth. "So…" He gestured to Sirius with the chocolate bar. "Whatever this is, whatever doesn't let you touch people… it's a curse?"

Sirius huffed. "Something like that."

"Dark Magic?"

"No," he said. "More like… gray magic."

"Permanent?"

"So far." Which, of course, meant yes. There was no getting rid of the words on his chest. He'd already asked around, searched through every book on blood magic in the Black family library. There was no way around the curse.

Andromeda found one, an uncharacteristically optimistic voice in his head chimed in. She can touch Ted, and he's Muggle-born.

He kicked himself for not asking her about that in person.

"That's horrible," Remus said, snapping him out of his own thoughts.

"So is whatever gave you your scars," Sirius shot back, not knowing what else to say.

Remus pulled a face, took another bite of chocolate, and chewed slowly. "I wish…" he started, but then seemed to choke on his words.

Sirius nudged him again. "What?"

There were tears in his eyes when he looked up. One or two trailed down his scarred cheeks. "I wish the scars weren't the first thing people see, when they look at me."

"They weren't," Sirius said, with every ounce of conviction he possessed. "Not for me, anyways."

"What?"

Sirius smiled a bit, at the memory, even though it was only from a few days ago. "I saw you from a distance, on the platform. First thing I noticed was your ridiculous hair and… and your eyes. Your eyes are…" He trailed off, because those eyes—now gold, not amber—were going to tear him to pieces. Sirius managed to shrug. "Couldn't really make out the scars until I was sitting right next to you."

"Thank you," Remus whispered.

Instead of replying, Sirius leaned against him, content to stay there, close to Remus for as long as he was physically able.

It was still early—before curfew, even—when Sirius and Remus climbed back inside. James and Peter weren't back yet, but they could hear raucous voices coming from the common room.

Walking few steps into the room, Remus yawned and stretched, the blanket pooling in a heap at his feet.

"I have to—" He stifled another yawn. "—make arrangements early tomorrow morning. I should get to bed."

"Early for the rest of the world or early for you?" Sirius asked, not bothering to hide his smirk.

"Ten," Remus said. "So early for everyone."

"Ten is not even remotely early."

"It is on a Sunday morning," Remus argued.

Sirius went to his trunk and fished out his pajamas. "Mm, it's still not that early," he said. He darted into the bathroom, closed the door, and changed as quickly as he could. When he came back out, Remus was already dressed and straightening his button-down, pin-striped top.

"I'll be up, you know," Sirius said, trying to sound casual. "You'll say goodbye, won't you?"

Remus nodded. "'Course I will. It's only for a few days, Sirius."

A lot can happen in a few days.

"Remus?" Sirius said, without much conscious thought.

"Yeah?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly unsure of himself. "Will, um. Will you stay with me tonight? In my bed? You don't have to, if it's weird, but—"

Remus was quiet for a second, and Sirius very nearly panicked, but then, Remus smiled and said, "Yes. I'll stay."

They arranged Sirius's bed like they had the first night, the covers drawn and a pillow between them. They climbed in, facing each other, and Sirius flicked his wrist to close the hangings and dim the lights.

Sirius and Remus stared at each other, far longer than either of them would care to admit. Eventually, Sirius said, "Your eyes… They glow. Did you know that? They glow like stars."

They did. They were ethereally beautiful, and Sirius couldn't stop staring at them, terrified that if he did, Remus Lupin would disappear entirely and the night would be frightfully dark once more.

Remus laughed softly, into his pillow. "Yeah, well. Yours look like the moon."

Sirius reached out, almost unaware he was doing it, and traced the pattern of Remus's scars in midair, an inch above Remus's face. "I wish you didn't have to go," Sirius whispered. "You don't deserve to fight the same kind of monsters I do."

Remus closed his eyes tight and Sirius watched one, last tear fall down his face. A second later, miraculous golden eyes found his once more. "Everyone's got their secrets… Their very own monsters." Remus took in a shattered breath. "Siri, yours and mine? They tend to leave scars."