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.

5. We Didn't Start the Fire

CHAPTER FIVE

We Didn't Start the Fire

Andromeda,

Have you heard from Reg? I've sent him two letters in the last three days and he hasn't replied. Can't tell if he's not speaking to me because of my Sorting, or if it's because Warden Walburga is burning my letters.

I need to hear from him, even if he says he'll never speak to me again. I left him alone in that goddamned house.

Sirius

Sirius,

Send me your letter to Regulus. I'll wrap it up in one of my own and send it to him. The Warden will be none the wiser.

He'll be okay, Siri. He loves you.

Andromeda

Andromeda,

I've enclosed a letter. It's not very long, but… Merlin, I just need him to talk to me. I told him to send his reply to you.

Thank you.

SEPTEMBER 7, 1971

On Tuesday morning, when Remus still hadn't returned, Sirius was starting to get antsy. He kept scanning the halls, scanning the faces surrounding the Gryffindor table, desperate for a glimpse of ridiculously curly, honey-brown hair. Presently, he was silently fuming at Annalise Morkin, a second year Ravenclaw, who had short, curly hair, just a shade or two lighter than Remus's. Every time he looked across the Hall, he caught sight of the back of her head and found himself almost calling out for Remus, only to sink back into his seat with a growing sense of dread.

Remus should have been back by now.

Merlin only knows what he's going through.

Sirius had been trying his best to continue on as if everything were normal. James and Peter certainly didn't think anything of Remus's absence, though, to be fair, they hadn't seen the fear in Remus's eyes when he'd said goodbye to Sirius on Sunday morning. Sirius was intimately familiar with that look; he saw it in the mirror every time he remembered the punishment Walburga had in store for him when he returned to Grimmauld Place for the Christmas holidays.

Still, as long as James and Peter were going to continue to be blissfully ignorant berks about the whole thing, then Sirius vowed to try his damnedest to pretend that everything was just fucking fine. He'd insisted on taking notes for Remus in Transfiguration yesterday, even though he found McGonagall's lecture on converting objects of a smaller mass into those of a significantly larger mass dolefully boring. But Remus had asked for notes, and Sirius was intent on delivering.

Yesterday in class, when McGonagall had come up for air, either to scold someone on improper wand motions or to write something on the chalkboard, Sirius had flicked his wrist. Peter's quill had instantly morphed into a rather large, brass candlestick. Peter, naturally, had let the thing drop and it had made an obnoxious series of clangs as it fell to the floor. McGonagall hadn't seen Sirius cast the spell, but she'd kept a rather watchful eye on him for the remainder of the class. At one point, she'd even snatched away Sirius's meticulous notes for Remus, because, "Taking notes and paying attention are simply out of character for you, Mr. Black," and, "I had ever reason to believe you were passing notes with Mr. Potter."

He'd wanted to snap back, tell McGonagall that she knew absolutely nothing about his character, but he'd managed to keep his mouth shut.

During the lesson's practical, Sirius hadn't managed to shake her ever-scrutinising gaze, so, just like the previous week, he'd been forced to transfigure the goose feather into a wooden spoon using his wand. Once again, his spoon came out a bit charred and bent at an odd angle, but McGonagall had deducted significantly fewer points than she had the first time. Sirius took this to mean that she'd been reluctantly impressed by his bit of wandless showmanship with Peter's quill, though he had no doubt she was still watching his every move, just waiting for some kind of slip up.

Even now, he could see McGonagall at the head table, her face turned towards Professor Sprout, seemingly engaged in conversation, but every now and again, McGonagall would glance his way and narrow her eyes.

Just then, James sat down across from him, a wicked grin plastered on his face and his glasses slightly off-centre.

"Sirius, I've got it," James said.

"Got what?"

"Merlin, pay attention, mate," James complained, with an eye roll. "I've got a plan to get back at Malfoy."

Before Sirius could say anything, a tall, fit redhead plopped down next to him and gave him a nudge. Instinctively jerking away from the contact, Sirius jumped, only to more or less crash into an identical redhead on his other side.

Sirius froze, expecting pain, but not really feeling anything more than a mild irritation at the contact. It took Sirius a full three seconds to realise he was pretty much seated in the lap of the redhead on his right. He surreptitiously shifted away, back into his place wedged between them.

The other redhead, on his left, burst out laughing. "Bet you never thought you'd be getting a lap dance from the Black heir, eh, Gid?"

"Yeah, you should be so lucky," Sirius bit out, straightening his robes and absolutely refusing to blush.

"Bit rude, wouldn't you say so, Gid?"

"Ah, just what I suspected, Fabian," said the redhead called Gid.

"Another Black," Fabian said.

"Alas," said Gid. "Not a drop of decency or mischief in him."

"What a waste."

Sirius narrowed his eyes. Ah, so this was a test.

James flashed him a brilliant smirk, but said nothing.

Sirius looked from one twin to the other. "Decency? Definitely not. I'm rather insulted you would think so little of me. But mischief…?"

Sirius flicked his wrist and both twins sprouted long, fuchsia pink beards that clashed violently with their red hair and freckles.

The twins exchanged a look, completely unperturbed.

"Wandless magic," Gid said.

"Impressive, for a first year," Fabian said. "But a coloured beard?"

"Not entirely original."

"I can do better," Sirius said.

"Prove it," said Fabian.

Sirius glanced across the table to James, who gave him a half-hearted shrug. "They did this to me, too," James said. "Show them something and then we can talk business."

"All right," Sirius said, again glancing between the twins. "What do you want me to do?"

"Ah, to have such a willing young disciple," Fabian cooed, slinging an arm around Sirius. A second later, Sirius felt Gid's arm sneak around his waist. He was, effectively, sandwiched between the twins. Remarkably, their touch didn't hurt—not really. They must be pureblood, whoever they were.

"Ol' Frankie's been getting on our nerves lately," Gid said, nodding down the table, where Frank Longbottom sat across from a pretty, blonde girl.

"That's Alice Fortescue. She's in our year," Fabian said, following Sirius's gaze.

"Frankie's not shut up about her since she earned the points that broke Gryffindor into positive digits, all in one go," said Gid.

"Just, Alice this and Alice that, these days."

"We miss the days where he was breathing down our necks for losing house points."

"We've been replaced," said Fabian, feigning a broken heart.

"I'm afraid Frankie's forgotten all about what a good little mischief tastes like," said Gid.

"We'd like you to remind him. Right, Gideon?" Fabian said.

"Right." Gid—or Gideon, it seemed—leaned in close, then whispered in Sirius's ear, "But don't get caught."

Sirius took a moment to consider. Then, he leaned back, reached behind Fabian, and flicked his fingers at Frank. A few green sparks shot across the table, but not enough for anyone to notice if they weren't already looking.

At first, nothing happened. The twins exchanged unimpressed looks. James grimaced a little.

Frank picked up his fork. It immediately turned a very specific shade of green. Sirius smirked, though he wasn't entirely sure the twins noticed the effects of his jinx until Frank picked up his glass of pumpkin juice.

The glass, too, turned Slytherin green.

Then went his spoon and the tablecloth and his plate and a strip of bacon Frank picked up and popped into his mouth. He brushed his fingers against the sleeve of his robes and those, too, faded to green.

One by one, heads began to turn towards Frank and the expanding collection of green items around him. Frank, however, was so enamoured with Alice Fortescue, that he somehow failed to notice anything at all. Alice, too, was completely oblivious, and stared lovingly into Frank's eyes.

On either side of Sirius, the twins snickered.

Then, it happened: Frank reached across the table, in what would have been a disgustingly romantic gesture, and took Alice Rowan's hand.

Alice Fortescue turned Slytherin green.

For a moment, everyone was silent, waiting for Frank's reaction.

Confused, Frank glanced down at Alice's hand. He seemed to notice all of the green around him. He glanced helplessly around the table, noting how the people seated on either side of him seemed to back away, clearly afraid of turning green themselves.

Alice Fortescue, much to her credit and Sirius's relief—he hadn't meant to hurt or embarrass her, after all—held up her hands to inspect them.

"Well," she said, cutting through the silence, "I think I look rather good in green. I bet it brings out my eyes. Wouldn't you say so, Frank?"

Fabian and Gideon roared with laughter, each of them slapping Sirius on the back. Their uproar was echoed by the rest of the Gryffindor table.

Frank turned bright red. Looking back and forth down the table, his gaze landed on Fabian and Gideon. "Who... Who did this?" Frank demanded.

"Looks like you did, mate," Gideon said with a smirk.

Frank reached to run a hand through his hair, but seemed to decide against it. Instead, he clenched and unclenched his fists right in front of him. "I see that, thanks," he snapped. "But who—"

"Wasn't me or Gid," Fabian said, honestly.

"Look at the colour, though," James pointed out, throwing a wink at Sirius. "My money's on the Slytherins."

"Bloody Slytherins," Frank growled. He stood, surveying the Slytherin table from a distance, clearly trying to discern a likely culprit. As Frank stormed towards the Slytherin table to enact his vengeance, Sirius took pity on him and flicked his wrist at Frank to reverse the jinx, lest he accidentally turn the entire castle green.

Fabian slapped Sirius on the back. "A Midas Jinx!"

"A wandless Midas Jinx!" Gideon echoed.

"Haven't seen one of those in ages." Fabian grabbed Sirius's hand and shook it. "Seems we've underestimated you, Black."

Gideon tore Sirius's hand away from his brother. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Fabian and Gideon Prewett," Fabian said. "We're mostly interchangeable, but—"

"But if you call either of us Molly—"

"They will never find your body."

Sirius glanced between the two, then at James. "Why would I call you Molly?"

"Their older sister," James explained.

"Ah," Sirius said. "How do you feel about Elizabeth? Can I call you that?"

Fabian leaned back and stroked his pink beard. "Yeah, s'pose Elizabeth is fine. Though Gid here's more of a Lizzie."

Gideon laughed. "You're all right, Black."

"Sirius," he said.

Fabian smirked and leaned over the table. "Right, then, Sirius and Potter. Looks like you've got yourselves a bona fide distraction."

Gideon set a potion vial on the table. "And a few doses of Prewett's Hiccuping Secrets."

"Patent pending, of course," Fabian said.

"Hiccuping Secrets?" Sirius repeated, eyeing the vial. "Merlin, I like the sound of that. What's the plan?"

Gideon smirked and tucked the vial back into his robes. "Meet us in the Astronomy Tower, tomorrow night."

"Don't be late," Fabian said, tossing Sirius a wink.

Neither James nor Sirius were particularly looking forward to seeing Slughorn in Double Potions that morning. The night before, Slughorn had had James, Sirius, and Lily slicing grime from severed centaur hooves, supposedly to be used in today's lesson.

"Christ," Lily had muttered, looking more than a little green. "The centaurs better have been dead when these hooves were cut off."

"Yes," James had replied. "But then you'd have to wonder how they died."

"Best not to ask questions," Sirius had said.

Now, a small platter full of hoof shavings sat at each table. As the first year Slytherins and Gryffindors walked in, they began to pair off: Marlene with Dorcas, Lily with Snape, and the Slytherin Carrow twins together.

James moulded himself to Sirius's side, but Sirius waved him away. "You should go with Pete," Sirius said. "He'll need more help than me."

James raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

"Are you kidding?" Sirius asked, pretending to be insulted. "I'm practically a Slytherin. There's a Potions Master in my veins, Potter."

"You're about as humble as a Slytherin," James muttered, but he gave Sirius a smile. "You'll be okay?"

"I'll partner with Remus when he gets back." Sirius glanced over James's shoulder, at Peter. Peter, oblivious to the two of them, wandered to the far end of the room. He picked up a piece of hoof shaving and sniffed it. "Besides, it looks like Pete's a bit confused."

James looked over. Peter, as if on cue, stuck the hoof shaving in his mouth and nibbled on it.

"Merlin—PETER!" James shouted, rushing over.

Peter started coughing. James slapped him on the back until the hoof shaving dislodged from his throat and went flying across the room. The shaving landed in front of Snape, who looked positively revolted.

Sirius just laughed and claimed the empty bench next to James and Peter, sitting down and propping his feet up on the second chair. "First rule of Potions, Pete," he said. "Don't eat the ingredients."

Peter smacked his lips, clearly trying to get the taste out of his mouth. "What was that?"

James grimaced. "Probably best if you don't know, at this point."

"He'll find out soon enough," Sirius mumbled.

Just then, Sirius looked up and there was a Slytherin girl smiling down at him. She was blonde, short, and had the same high-cheekbones as any pure-blood family. Her name was Greengrass, or something. He'd seen her at a few of his parents' gatherings, over the years, and had maybe spoken to her a few times. He's pretty sure, at one of these gatherings, Regulus had gotten a sugar quill stuck in her hair.

"Hi, Sirius," she said, blinking blue eyes at him beneath long eyelashes. "I still need a partner. Can I sit with you?"

Sirius shot a panicked look in James's direction. James pulled a face, his dark eyes wide and clueless.

"My partner's out for the day," Sirius said, quickly, after his silent exchange with James amounted to absolutely nothing. "Um, sorry…?"

Merlin, for the life of him, he couldn't remember her first name. He got the distinct impression she would not take kindly to being referred to as Ms. Greengrass.

"Kayla," she said, looking a little hurt. "Kayla Greengrass."

"Right," he replied, trying to look sheepish. "Sorry."

Kayla Greengrass sulked to the other side of the room and sat in an empty bench, by herself.

"Where's your boyfriend, Black?" Severus Snape sneered, leaning across Lily Evans.

Lily Evans cuffed Snape upside the head. It seemed that Malfoy's curse had mostly worn off, at least.

Snape ignored her completely. "Did he get those scars before or after he learned he'd have to spend the next seven years sharing a dorm with you? Because if I were him, I'd want to claw my face off too."

Sirius felt his blood start to boil. He stood and drew his wand, even before he had a conscious thought about doing so. James wasn't far behind him. They both pointed their wands at Severus Snape.

Snape stood up and drew his own wand.

Lily grabbed his arm. "Severus, sit down!"

Snape shook her off and sent a jinx flying towards James and Sirius. They easily dodged it, but Peter yelped and ducked under the table to avoid further crossfire.

Snape didn't seem too bothered that he missed. "Do your parents know about him yet, Black? That you're making eyes at a scarred, half-blood fag?"

"Hey!" James said, affronted. "Remus isn't a—"

"At least I didn't bend over for Lucius-fucking-Malfoy the second I was sorted into Slytherin, eh, Snivellus?" Sirius said.

"Sirius!" Lily hissed.

Sirius ignored her. "Does my cousin know about your sordid arrangement? I should probably tell you that Cissa is definitely the jealous type."

Snape flushed bright red. In an instant, he shoved past Lily Evans and punched Sirius in the face.

There was a very distinct crunch of bone and pain erupted from Sirius's left cheek.

Sirius blinked a few times and tenderly felt his cheek. He was dazed, and maybe a little out of it. Everything played out in slow motion, as if everyone in the room seemed to forget how to transition from frozen to animated once again. Half the class was on their feet, Gryffindors and Slytherins pointing their wands and shouting at each other. Lily Evans used all her meagre bulk to keep James from tearing Snape a new one.

Sirius felt a vague and disembodied swell of pride for James: his wild hair all over the place, glasses askew and very nearly slipping from his nose, and wand drawn, trying desperately to aim a curse around Lily without hitting her in the process. It was still a rather new feeling, having someone who'd defend him, even though Sirius hardly thought he needed defending in this particular circumstance. He didn't know if it was stupidity or some form of loyalty that stemmed from their newfound friendship that made James want to defend him without question. Perhaps it was just Gryffindor bravery, plain and simple, or that urge to win the fight first and worry about the consequences later.

Or, maybe it was that wild and dangerous instinct to protect, avenge, and destroy any threat. That little zing of unhindered fury that Sirius felt when Snape called Remus a fag, or that fire that boiled in his veins when he'd seen Auclair's fingers wrapped around Regulus's throat.

Sirius didn't know what to call it—loyalty, rage, or, perhaps most terrifying, love—but it was dangerous. Powerful. That instinct made him do stupid things, without hesitation.

His ears rang, drowning out most of the commotion around him, and images kept flashing before his eyes: Regulus, on his knees, gasping for breath, bruises already forming around his throat; his father's face, as he told Sirius he was proud; Remus, on the train, brilliant amber eyes smiling at Sirius like he was actually worth the effort; Remus, sitting cross-legged in front of the Whomping Willow, staring up at the tree like it held the answers to the universe; Remus, on the roof, gold eyes shimmering in the moonlight and glistening with tears, absolutely fucking terrified of whatever monsters awaited him.

Merlin, Sirius prayed to every deity that might still care that Remus was all right.

Vaguely, he became aware of a pair of hands on his face that were definitely not his own. Sirius blinked and, bit by bit, Kayla Greengrass came into focus.

"Sirius?" she said, her eyebrows pinched together. "Sirius, are you all right? You're bleeding."

Her fingers carded through his hair and Sirius jerked out of her reach. Her touch didn't hurt—Kayla Greengrass was about as pure-blooded as they come—but he didn't particularly care for the fact that she'd had her hands on him without his permission. It was different with James or even the Prewetts. Those were normal, casual bits of physical contact, nothing out of the ordinary between friends. Despite the pain, Sirius appreciated that he was included in that. It meant that they considered him their friend.

With Kayla Greengrass, touching meant something entirely different. She wanted his attention—fucking craved it, judging by the hurt look on her face—and he didn't want to give it to her.

She was pure-blood. She was Slytherin. She was his future on a plate.

She was everything Sirius would do anything not to become.

Sirius shook his head, to clear it of intrusive thoughts. He waved Kayla away, even as she took another step towards him. A bit of blood trickled down his cheek, until it reached the corner of his lips. He tasted iron and, little by little, Sirius returned to the present.

Everyone was shouting.

Cautiously, he prodded his cheek. There'd been a definite crack, when Snape had hit him. Sirius was convinced Snape had broken his cheekbone, but no, it didn't hurt enough for that. He down at his body, trying to figure out where else Snape had hit him and when and how he'd done it without Sirius noticing.

It took him a solid few, dazed seconds to realise he wasn't the one with the broken bone.

Sirius laughed.

One by one, the crowd fell silent, and all eyes turned to him.

From his place behind a furious and rather imposing Lily Evans, Snape was livid. He held his right hand close to his chest.

"How's the hand, Snape?" Sirius smirked. It hurt, what with the bruise forming on his face and all, but it was worth it.

"It's fine," Snape growled.

"Really?" Sirius held up his hand and wiggled his fingers. "Go like this, then."

Snape didn't move.

"See, when you hit someone in the face, you've got to angle your hand just right, or you'll break something," Sirius said. "I'd be happy to show you, but I'm afraid it wouldn't be a fair fight, since you've already broken your hand."

Lily turned her attention away from James and reached for Snape. "Severus?"

"I'm fine," Snape snapped, shoving her away with his good hand. Lily looked hurt.

"Better get to the hospital wing, Snape," Sirius said.

"This isn't over, Black," Snape growled, heading for the door.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Sirius called after him. "Same time next week?"

Sirius didn't bother healing the dark bruise and small cut on his face. He knew, in theory, that he could perform the spell—even wandlessly—without much of a hiccup. He'd spent the past few days, since Remus left, touching up on his healing spells. He'd always been pretty good at them, having grown up in Grimmauld Place, and all. He hadn't had an opportunity to actually practice any of the spells recently, but he'd been idly mimicking the wand movements with his fingers and wrist at ever available opportunity.

The fact was, Sirius could very easily heal himself without so much as a second thought.

If Sirius was being honest, he'd reluctantly cop to the fact that he liked walking around the castle with a black eye. He liked the attention it gave him. He liked that it made him look tough. Gryffindors were supposed to be tough, right?

Of course, it had absolutely nothing to do about the fact that Sirius loved telling anyone and everyone that Snivellus had broken his fucking hand trying to rough him up. All Sirius had was a little bruising and swelling. Nothing he wasn't used to already.

Or, maybe he liked the fact that, for once, he didn't have to lie about where the bruising and swelling came from.

Either way, Sirius refused to heal the bruise and wore it like a badge of honor.

After lunch, a few first year students gathered outside the Ancient Runes classroom, waiting for Professor Idunn to open the door. Lily Evans stood, clutching her books against her chest, and stared at the door. Sirius smirked, then leaned against the wall next to her.

Lily sighed and looked him up and down, her eyes zeroing in on the bruise on his face. "You shouldn't have provoked him like that," she admonished, but there was no real fight in her voice. She sounded resigned.

"Hey, he started it," Sirius said. "He called Remus a—"

"I know," Lily snapped. "I heard him. You were an arse, too, Sirius Black, but I heard what he said."

Lily bit her lip and averted her eyes. She was… upset. She looked like she wanted to cry.

Sirius shifted, uncomfortably. For all his numerous lessons on etiquette and decorum with the best tutors money could buy, Sirius had no idea how to handle a crying girl.

"Would it help if I asked how he was doing? No permanent damage to his hand or anything, is there?"

Lily scrubbed a hand over her face and Sirius thanked his lucky stars that no actual tears fell. "Do you care?"

He shrugged. "Not particularly."

She nodded, like that was the answer she was expecting. Sirius turned to leave her alone, maybe to go talk to Dorcas, or something, when Lily grabbed his arm.

Merlin, it burned. In an instant, he jerked away, nearly throwing her off balance as he did so.

"Fuck, sorry." He reached out, as if to steady her, but definitely did not touch her. "I just…"

He prayed she'd chalk it up to concern for Malfoy's curse on her, not because he was in pain himself, from touching her.

Lily gave him a weird look, but waved it off. "Sirius?"

"Yeah?" he replied.

"You…" She hesitated, clearly not comfortable with whatever it was she had to say, but she pressed on all the same. "You said Severus went to Malfoy for protection."

"Yeah, I did," he said, remembering that first night in detention with her and James.

"Because he's a half-blood," she continued.

"Yes," he said.

"Because if he didn't ask for protection, Malfoy would treat him like he treated me."

"Yes."

"And you think that makes Severus a coward?"

He wasn't prepared for that question, but he immediately knew the answer to it. He opened and closed his mouth, then nervously ran a hand through his hair.

"I, um. Yes. I do," he said, eventually, as if he had any authority to speak on cowardice.

Lily raised an eyebrow. "I suppose that makes you the hero then?"

Sirius laughed, rather like a madman. "Definitely not. And if I ever give you that impression again, you have my full permission to punch me in the face. You look like you could do a better job of it than Snivellus."

This seemed to brighten her spirits considerably. "You bet your arse I could," she muttered. After a moment, she sobered. "I won't have you going after him, Sirius. I will not allow it. Severus is my friend. You don't get to treat him like—"

"Malfoy?" Sirius supplied.

"Yes, like Malfoy. Severus isn't like that. I don't care what you say."

On the one hand, he admired her loyalty. Until a few days ago, Sirius would have killed for a friend like Lily Evans. On the other hand, Sirius knew exactly what kind of person Severus Snape was. He'd been around people like Snape his whole life: wizards just shy of pure-blood, cozying up to the nearest Ancient House to serve as their judge, jury, and executioner, so the pure-bloods could keep up the illusion that their hands were clean.

Sooner or later, Snape would realise any association with Muggle-borns merely jeopardised his relationship with the blood-purists. He'd turn on Lily Evans, one way or another.

He wanted to tell her. He wanted to hold her hand and tell her she was too good for Severus Snape and that whole Slytherin gang. She didn't deserve their prejudice.

But really, who was Sirius Black, a pure-blood pariah himself, to talk to a Muggle-born about the fates and inevitable destinies of those who align themselves with Ancient Houses?

"I won't start anything, Evans. Even if he comes after me," Sirius said, eventually.

She held his gaze for a long second and he could tell she understood the half-promise for what it was.

"You really mean that?" she asked.

"Yes."

"And if, hypothetically, he were to go after someone else?"

"I won't allow it," he said, simply, throwing her words back at her.

Slowly, she nodded.

A second later, her attention was no longer on him, but on Severus Snape, who had just rounded the corner, a brace on his right arm.

"Severus!" Lily cried, running to him and immediately wrapping him in a hug.

Reluctantly, and clearly cautious of his surroundings, Snape hugged her back, but really, Sirius couldn't be expected to pay any attention to the two of them because right behind Snape was Remus.

Remus.

Remus, who looked like he'd recently been run over by the Hogwarts Express, then left to the carrion birds for a few days.

Remus, whose eyes were nearly as purple as Sirius's shiner, whose hair was rumpled and a little bit greasy, who walked like every step caused him unimaginable agony.

For a second, Sirius thought he was going to lose his lunch.

Then, he rushed to Remus's side, his hands flailing about, desperate, yet unable to touch, to soothe, to hug like Lily was so unfairly able to hug Snape.

"Hi," Sirius said, rather stupidly. Then, his hand darted out, entirely without his permission, and grabbed Remus's.

Holy fucking mother of Merlin—

Remus jerked away at the same time Sirius did, both of them giving small cries of pain.

For a second, they just stared at each other, brilliant amber eyes into silver.

"Hi, Sirius." Remus's voice sounded scratchy, as if it hadn't been used in several day.

"How's your mum?" Sirius managed, after a few, uncomfortable moments of just staring, because, Merlin, how could he possibly be expected to look away?

Remus leaned against the wall, in what Sirius prayed was a casual attempt at nonchalance, instead of a last-ditch effort to keep himself upright.

"Fine," Remus said. He scrubbed a hand over his face. "I mean, she's good. Really good. It was nice to see her."

"And… How are you?"

Sirius didn't know what else to say. He looked Remus up and down, trying to assess the damage underneath Remus's long, baggy robes. There was damage, of that Sirius was certain. Remus had both arms folded across his mid-section and he was a bit hunched over. That probably meant a broken rib, or two—perhaps only cracked, if Remus was lucky, but given how short of breath he seemed to be, Sirius wasn't counting on it. Remus was pale, too, which probably meant he'd lost a lot of blood. Sirius figured it was a safe bet to assume Remus had a few brand new scars to add to his collection.

"'M fine, too." Remus yawned, nearly collapsing in on himself while doing so. "Been sleeping most of the day actually, but when Snape came in, Madam Pomfrey said I could go back to class."

It took a full minute for Remus's words to register. Sirius felt himself go pale. Remus seemed to realise what he'd said a second later, and both boys stared at each other.

"I didn't mean—" Remus started.

At the same time, Sirius said, "You were in the hospital wing?"

"No!" Remus nearly shouted, his eyes flashing a bit. "I mean—fuck. Yes, Sirius, I was. But I'm fine. I promise. Just a bit tired."

Remus was lying. He was lying and he was hurt, and someone had done this to him, goddamnit.

Remus told him it was a monster, that had done this to him. But he'd been home, with his mum, for Merlin's sake. What kind of—

Sirius shook his head, his temper flaring. He knew exactly what kind of monster would do this to their child.

"You're not going back there," Sirius growled, low enough so only he and Remus could hear.

Remus made a small, choked noise and his face contorted in pain. "Sirius—"

"No, Remus! Someone did this to you. You're not—"

Suddenly, all Sirius could see was Remus's brilliant, amber eyes, glistening with tears. "Can we do this later, Siri?" Remus whispered, his voice cracking mid-sentence. "I can't..." He glanced around at the other students. "I can't do this right now."

Sirius deflated immediately. "Okay. Okay, I'm sorry. Let's get you inside. Can you, um. Can you walk?"

Remus shot him a petulant glare. "I walked all the way here, didn't I? Down two flights of moving stairs, I might add."

To prove his point, Remus stood up straight. He swayed a bit and Sirius almost reached out for him, but Remus caught himself with a palm flat against the wall. "Come on, Sirius," Remus managed. "Let's go to class."

Sirius couldn't stop fidgeting.

He'd thought it would be better, having Remus back, instead of the thousands of horrible scenarios of what Remus might be going through, but it was just the opposite. Now, he'd seen the damage, or enough of it to know that whatever had happened to him, it was far worse than Sirius had imagined. Far worse than what his parents typically put him through.

Walburga Black did not leave visible marks, save for one.

Remus hadn't denied it, that day by the Whomping Willow, when Sirius had assumed he was scarred all over. Even knowing that, Sirius hadn't done a goddamned thing to stop Remus from leaving.

Professor Idunn gave a long and exuberant lecture about the origins and basics of ancient Nordic runes. As she talked and flailed her hands about, the chalk behind her traced out each symbol and its meaning. Every student, save for Sirius and Remus, frantically scribbled down notes, just trying to keep up.

About ten minutes into class, Remus started to nod off. Sirius poked him with his ballpoint. Remus jerked back awake and hit his knees on the underside of the desk, which made him hunch over and suppress a groan of pain. Sirius shot him an apologetic look. Thankfully, nobody seemed to notice, save perhaps Lily Evans. Professor Idunn didn't even pause for a breath.

Fifteen minutes into class, Remus slumped over his desk, a small moan of pain slipping from his lips. This time, a few more heads turned, including that of Severus Snape.

Sirius began to panic. "Remus," he hissed, leaning as close to him as he could without touching.

Remus groaned in reply and cracked one eye open to stare at Sirius. His face was deathly pale and his scars stood out, pink and gnarled, as if they were brand new.

"I think you need to go back to the hospital wing," Sirius whispered.

"'M fine, Sirius," Remus muttered. "Just need to sleep."

Remus laid his head down and folded his arms over his eyes to block out the light.

"We're in class, Remus," Sirius said.

"Don't care," came the muffled reply. "Take notes for me."

Sirius tried. Merlin, he tried to pay attention, but it was nearly impossible, what with Remus moaning in pain every few minutes. As it turned out, his internal radar only had eyes and ears for Remus Lupin, and Remus most certainly was not fine.

Five minutes before class was supposed to end, Professor Idunn finished her lecture and dismissed them, demanding, in a final dramatic frenzy, that they memorise the basic structure of the Nordic alphabet for next class.

Sirius poked Remus with the ballpoint again. Most of the students had cleared out, by the time Sirius managed to actually get Remus to wake up. If anything, Remus looked even more exhausted than he had before class. His face was eerily pale and the bags under his eyes looked more like black and blue bruises by the second. Remus wheezed a bit with every intake of breath.

"C'mon, Remus," Sirius said, quietly. "Let's stand up and get you out of here."

Remus stood, hunched over and swaying a bit. He planted both hands on the desk to steady himself and Sirius very nearly had a stroke.

There was blood on Remus's hands.

Fresh blood. Remus's blood.

It wasn't just a little. It was fucking everywhere, dark and red and thick, and from the looks of it, flowing from open wounds hidden by Remus's sleeves.

Sirius couldn't tear his eyes away from the blood. He'd read about injuries like that before: cuts on the wrists, usually from—

"My, my," Snape said, his eyes tracking over Remus. "Tried to off yourself already, Lupin?"

No. No. No. No.

That couldn't be it. Merlin, please, no. Remus wouldn't do that. Remus wouldn't—

Well, what would you do, to escape that kind of pain? said a dangerous and disturbingly logical voice in Sirius's head.

No, shut up.

Remus glanced down at his hands and saw the blood. "Fuck you, Snape," Remus muttered, but there was absolutely no fight in his voice.

"I thought you Gryffindors were supposed to be brave," Snape said. "Nothing brave about taking the easy way out."

No. No. No. No.

Sirius's eyes flashed as he whirled on Snape. Sirius raised his hand, his magic dancing in fiery sparks between his fingers. "Keep talking, Snape. I dare you."

"Careful, Black. Don't let him bleed on you. You don't want to upset your delicate, pure-blood sensibilities. He might infect you with something," Snape sneered.

If it were possible, Remus paled even more.

"That's it, you piece of shit," Sirius snarled, ready to aim the first hex that came to mind right at Snape.

"Sirius!" Remus hissed, putting up a hand. Blood dripped onto the desk and Remus pulled his hand back.

Just then, Lily Evans threw her book at Snape. It hit him in the head and he let out a rather gratifying yelp.

"Severus, get out!" Lily yelled. Her face was nearly as red as her hair and she was absolutely fucking furious.

Sirius realised he'd never fully appreciated Lily Evans until that moment.

Snape's attention immediately snapped to Lily and his face fell. "Lily, I'm—"

"Get out!"

Sirius was starting to understand why James had been so quick to propose to her.

As soon as Snape was out of the room, Remus collapsed back into his seat.

For a moment, Lily and Sirius just stared at him.

"Remus?" Lily started, taking a step towards him and crouching next to his chair. "You're bleeding, love."

Remus scoffed and shot her a wry smile. "You noticed that, huh?"

Sirius gathered both his and Remus's books and shoved them in his bag. "We're taking you to the hospital wing."

"No, Sirius."

Sirius gestured at his hands. "But—"

Remus glared at him. "I said no."

Sirius's face fell. He couldn't keep the pleading notes out of his voice."Remus—"

"A bathroom, then," Lily said, cutting in, glancing between the two of them and effectively shutting Sirius up. "Let's get you to a bathroom, so we can wipe up the blood, yeah?"

"All right," Remus agreed.

Reluctantly, Sirius nodded. He grabbed Remus's bag and threw it over his shoulder, along with his own."Can you stand?"

"Yes." Remus did, with one arm curled protectively around his ribcage.

Remus almost made it out of the classroom, before stumbling. Lily and Sirius weren't far behind and both of them lunged to catch Remus, but Sirius pulled back, furiously reminding himself that he could not fucking touch.

"Come on," Lily said, ducking under Remus's free arm. "I'll help. It's okay to lean on me."

Remus gave her a weak smile. "Thanks," he managed, through a laboured breath. "Mind the ribs, yeah?"

Lily nodded and wrapped her arm around him. Together, they began to slowly make their way down the hallway, towards the toilets. Sirius trailed a few steps behind, completely and utterly useless.

"Christ, Sirius, get over here and help. He's tall. And heavy," Lily groaned, trying to support Remus's weight without jostling his ribs.

"He can't help," Remus said, quickly, before giving a small yelp when Lily's shoulder jabbed uncomfortably into his side.

"Why the fuck not?" Lily snapped.

Sirius's eyes widened. He hadn't expected her to so blatantly swear like that. If the circumstances were even remotely different, he'd be impressed. He jogged forward a few steps.

"I, um—"

"He has a thing about germs," Remus wheezed out.

Germs?! Sirius mouthed to Remus, over Lily's head and out of her line of sight

"Germs?" Lily said, incredulous. She looked between the two of them, best she could, as she continued to shuffle Remus down the hallway.

"Germs," Remus repeated. He glared pointedly at Sirius.

"That's right," Sirius managed. "I, er. Don't like to touch people."

"Can't you—" She adjusted her grip around Remus's waist. "Can't you make an exception?"

"Er, no. Sorry."

Merlin, she didn't know. She didn't fucking know he'd give anything just to help. Remus was in pain, goddamnit, and he needed someone—he needed Sirius—to help him, to hold him up, to make sure he didn't bleed to death in the second floor corridor.

Sirius didn't think he'd ever hated his mother or the tattoo on his chest more than right now.

"Then learn a goddamned levitating spell, Black," Lily growled. They'd reached the boys' toilets. "Open the door, Sirius."

He did. After Lily helped Remus in and propped him against the far wall. Remus folded both his arms across his middle and sat with his legs straight out, drawing in slow, measured breaths. Sirius followed, confirming with a sigh of relief, that the room was empty, save for the three of them. He threw both his and Remus's bags down by the door.

"Right," Lily said, backing away once she was relatively certain Remus wasn't going to fall over. "I'd better get back to…" She made a vague hand gesture.

"It's all right, Evans," Sirius said. "Go find Snape."

Lily nodded, then glanced between the two of them. "You'll be okay?"

"Yes," Remus said, his voice a bit stronger, now that he was no longer standing. "Thank you, Lily."

"Right," she said again. She pointed a rather threatening finger at Sirius. "You. Help him, goddamnit."

Then, she left.

Remus blinked up at him, his head lolling against the wall, his amber eyes tired and resigned. After a long moment, Remus erupted into a coughing fit. His hands shook, as he calmed down, but the steady stream of blood that Sirius had seen in the classroom seemed to have slowed. What blood remained on Remus's hands was slowly drying into a burnt-amber crust. Whatever had made Remus's wrists bleed, he filed away for later. So long as Remus wasn't in immediate danger of bleeding to death, Sirius would deal with his ribs and his laboured breathing first.

Sirius knelt down next to him, as close as he dared without actually touching him.

"Show me," Sirius demanded, gesturing to Remus's chest.

Remus glared at him. "Sirius—"

"Don't you fucking dare tell me you're fine, Remus."

"I swear, I'm—"

"So help me, I will vanish your damn clothes."

Remus scoffed. "You couldn't do a levitating spell, but you—"

"Levitating spells require a functioning wand and a certain degree of focus, neither of which I have in abundance at the moment. Plus, I don't know if something's broken or what and if I levitate you without knowing, I could make it worse. Vanishing spells…" Sirius held up his fingers and tossed Remus a half-hearted wink. "That's just a flick of the wrist."

"No."

"Your ribs are either broken or bruised. I need to see which, before I can fix it."

Remus's eyebrows knit together. He coughed softly. "You know healing spells?"

Sirius legitimately laughed at that. "Are you kidding? Healing spells were the first thing I taught myself."

Remus looked over at him, his eyes wide and compassionate, like Sirius was the one who was hurt, like Sirius deserved pity, like Sirius was the one bleeding on the bathroom floor.

"No, shut up. This is about your horrifying injuries, not mine. Let me heal you. Please, Remus. I'm pretty good at the spells, even wandless, I swear. But I need to see what's wrong, so take off your goddamned shirt."

Remus shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. "I-I can't, okay? Sirius, I can't—"

Sirius could have screamed. Instead, he squeezed his eyes closed and leaned imperceptibly closer. "I already know you have scars and I don't fucking care, okay?" he whispered. "I'm not going to hate you or laugh at you or whatever the hell you think I'm going to do. You know where I come from and you know what my mother does to me. I don't care about scars, Remus."

Two tears slipped down Remus's face, tracing over the pink indentations of his scars before dripping onto his robes. "Okay," he managed.

Remus leaned back and sat up a bit straighter. His bloody hands shook as long fingers undid the buttons on first his robes, then his shirt, until they both hung open.

For the life of him, Sirius couldn't tear his eyes away.

Remus's chest was littered with purple and black bruises. His shirt hung open, barely wide enough for Sirius to see a majority of the old scars, though there was jagged scar one that ran the entire length of Remus's torso, from just below his collarbone to where it disappeared beneath the hem of Remus's trousers. Zigzagged lines of fresh scrapes and nicks covered the bruises on his ribcage. A few of the cuts still oozed blood, but, for the most part, they were superficial. Nothing in comparison to that old, horrendous scar.

Sirius swallowed his building terror and forced himself to focus on the fresh cuts and bruising. "Merlin, Remus, why didn't Pomfrey heal these?"

Remus at least had the decency to look a little guilty. "I didn't tell her about them."

"Why the fuck not?!"

Remus huffed and glared at him. "You know why. Same reason—"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Same reason I wouldn't let James take me to Dumbledore."

"Yes."

Sirius hovered his hand above Remus's ribcage, focusing instead on the task at hand. "Have you coughed up any blood? Or mucus? Or, really anything you shouldn't be coughing up?"

Remus, apparently, was not prepared for the rather abrupt subject change. "What?"

"I need to know if your ribs are broken."

Remus shook his head. "Um, no. Haven't coughed anything up."

"Good. Anything sticking out anywhere?"

"No."

"Okay. Nothing's broken."

Remus raised an eyebrow at him. "Is that your expert medical opinion?"

"I could take you back to Pomfrey, if you're so concerned."

"No," Remus growled.

"Then will you let me heal them?"

Remus squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. "Sure you won't fuck it up?"

Sirius Black was sure of no such thing. Instead, he asked the more important question: "Do you trust me?"

After a long moment, Remus blinked up at him and nodded. "S'pose so, yeah."

Sirius flicked his fingers, calling up his magic to dance between them. Then, pointing his finger at Remus's chest, he whispered, "Episkey."

Remus drew in a sharp breath, but one by one, the bruises faded to green, then yellow, then disappeared altogether. When they were gone, Remus almost doubled over in relief.

Sirius had been trying his damnedest to not think about the state of Remus's wrists. Arguing with Remus had… helped, but there was only so long the subject could be avoided. Sirius flicked his wrist again and the buttons of Remus's shirt did themselves up, once more covering Remus's chest. Sirius's eyes tracked to Remus's wrists.

Muttering a little under his breath, Remus sat up and shrugged off his outer robes, now that his ribs were no longer bothering him. The black robes pooled on the floor, in a semi-circle around him.

"Shit, Remus," Sirius breathed.

Remus's sleeves were soaked in blood, from just below the crook of his elbow to the cuffs of his wrists. Like the blood on his hands, the stains were crusted over and turning a dull-brown colour, but it was, without a doubt, blood, and a lot of it.

Without another word between them, Remus rolled up his sleeves, one at a time.

The thin flesh covering both of Remus's wristbands was torn to shreds. Blood caked and continued to ooze from the wounds, thin trails of it tracking down Remus's forearm. What's worse, underneath the fresh blood and torn flesh, Sirius could make out the pale outline of countless scars.

"Siri, it's not what you think," Remus whispered, his voice cracking a bit.

And he's right, because Sirius didn't think that. Not anymore. If Remus had done this to himself with that intent, the scars would be on the fleshy part of his arm, not on the bone.

This… This looked like someone had gnawed on Remus's flesh, straight to the bone.

"Sirius," Remus started again, after seeing the hard-set expression on Sirius's face.

"Scourgify." Sirius flicked his wrist and the caked and dried blood disappeared from Remus's hands and arms, leaving only the gnarled wounds and fresh blood. A second later, he twirled his fingers and said, "Episkey."

Nothing happened.

Sirius risked a glance at Remus, then flicked his wrist and tried the spell again.

Still nothing.

His hand shaking slightly, Sirius reached into the pocket of his robe for his wand.

Remus squeezed his eyes shut. "Sirius, you don't have to—"

"Shut up." He focused all his magic on Remus's wrists, praying his defective wand wouldn't make things worse. "Episkey."

Again, nothing. The magic fizzled out, just above the gaping wounds. A trickle of blood tracked down Remus's left forearm.

Remus started to pull his wrists out of reach. "Honestly, Sirius, I'm fine. Let's just—"

Sirius couldn't tear his eyes from Remus's wrists. "It should work. I'm doing the spell right. These are deep, but they should still heal."

"They'll be perfectly fine in a day or two. Just let it—"

"A day or two?" Sirius repeated, incredulously. "Remus, these will take weeks to heal naturally. Now, I know another spell that will—"

"I heal fast. I'm fine, Sirius."

"It's a special spell. Meant for healing curses and, well, persistent wounds, I guess."

Remus's eyes widened. "No, you can't—"

Sirius ignored him and set down his wand. He practiced the movement Andromeda had shown him with his wrist. When he was sure he'd gotten it right, he pointed his first two fingers at Remus's wrists and repeated the swishing motion. "Repifarigo."

There was a flash of blue light, but then absolutely nothing. Remus's wrists were still as raw and bloody as they had been a second ago.

Sirius frowned and tried to swallow the panic rising in his throat. He tried the spell again, this time with his wand, but still nothing.

Remus bowed his head. His wrists rested limp and bloody in his lap.

Sirius bit his lip. Tears welled in his eyes, completely without his permission. He scrubbed a hand over his face to wipe them away. "That's… That's Dark Magic, Remus," he said, his voice barely audible.

"No, it's not."

Sirius laughed, a little broken, a little insane, but he couldn't help it. "Yes, it is. Dark Magic's just about the only thing that spell won't heal."

"Then maybe you did the spell wrong."

"Don't insult me!" Sirius snapped, because, Merlin, he didn't do the fucking spell wrong. "That's Dark Magic. Someone did that to you. Tell me who."

"No one—"

"Bullshit! Who did this to you, Remus?"

Now, Remus was the one in tears. He shook his head, silently pleading with Sirius just to drop it, to leave him alone, to—

Sirius lowered his voice. "Please, just tell me. I want to help. Who did this?"

Very softly—so softly that Sirius almost missed it, even though he was sitting right next to Remus—Remus whispered, "A monster."

"Fuck," Sirius breathed. His hands were shaking, aching to touch, to comfort, to take all Remus's pain away. Almost subconsciously, Sirius reached out his index finger and brushed it against the unmarred skin of Remus's palm. Sirius jerked back almost immediately, but it was enough to get Remus to look at him.

"I'm sorry," Sirius said. "I'm so fucking sorry. I let you go and—"

"No! No," Remus very nearly sobbed. "You did not let me go. I had to go. This… It has nothing to do with you, all right? It…"

Sirius shifted imperceptibly closer. "It, what?"

"The monster's going to find me, one way or another, no matter what I do. All I can do is try to keep him away from you and from anyone else I might care about, because… Christ, Sirius. I'd rather he tear me to pieces than watch him sink his teeth into you. I wouldn't be able to stop it. He'd kill you and he'd make me watch." Remus paused, his eyes boring into Sirius's soul. "I need you to swear to me that you won't go looking for this monster, even if you know I might get hurt."

Sirius recoiled and shook his head. "No. No. You can't ask me to do that," he whispered, not really caring if his voice broke.

"Please, Sirius. I need to know you're safe."

Sirius swore under his breath. He remembered how quick Remus had been to swear that he'd never say anything about Sirius's family, like he understood Sirius's that terrifying martyr complex that demanded Sirius keep his friends away from his family. Sirius needed to keep his friends safe.

Remus knew that desperation, then. He knew it intimately. He bore the scars from some unnamed monster that left him bruised and bleeding and he'd give just about anything to make sure his friends never endured the same.

Goddamnit.

"All right," Sirius whispered. "I promise."

He hated Remus, just a little, for forcing that promise upon him, and he thought maybe Remus knew that, too. That horrifying protective instinct—that inspired both delusions of grandeur and desperate recklessness—ran deep in both of them.

"Thank you," Remus murmured, one final tear slipping down his cheek.

Sirius squeezed his eyes shut, willing away the tears that wanted to well up in his own eyes. He'd cried enough over this. Now was the time to act.

"Do you…" Sirius gestured to Remus's wrists. They'd mostly stopped bleeding, but they still looked horrible. "Do you want me to take you back to the hospital wing? Pomfrey will have dittany, or something. Might not heal them all the way, but it'll help."

"No," Remus said, softly. "If I go back, she'll make me stay the night. I just want to sleep in my own bed again."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah. I heal fast. I just want to sleep."

Remus placed his hand on the wall and managed to drag himself to his feet without making his wrists bleed again. He swayed a little, but kept his balance.

Sirius held out a hand, ready to catch him should he suddenly collapse. "Do you need help? I can go get Evans back here, if—"

"I'm fine, Sirius. I can walk. It was my ribs that made that rather difficult, so thank you, for that. And for trying, with the…" He held up his wrists.

Sirius stared at them, then at the scars lining Remus's face.

I don't care what I promised. One day, I'll tear whoever did this to you to shreds, I swear it.

"Sirius?" Remus's eyebrows pinched together.

"Yeah?"

"What the fuck happened to your face?"

This time, Sirius managed a genuine laugh.

SEPTEMBER 8, 1971

At a quarter past two in the morning, Remus cried out in his sleep.

Sirius, who was already up—unable to sleep due to a combination of restless thoughts involving scars, monsters, and Remus as well as his general insomnia—sat bolt upright in his bed.

From the bed next over, Sirius heard Remus let out a faint whimper.

He threw back the covers and his own hangings, grabbed a pillow, and made his way over to Remus's bed. Pulling aside the hangings, Sirius threw his pillow at Remus.

"Mmph—Sirius?" Remus muttered, opening one eye.

Sirius gestured at the pillow. "Budge over and put that thing between us. I'm sleeping here."

Remus obeyed. Sirius crawled into bed and lay on his side, facing Remus. Bright amber eyes blinked at him, then carved a path right into his heart.

"Are your wrists all right?" he asked, mostly just trying to break whatever tension there was between them.

"They're fine," Remus replied, without looking at them.

"Are… Are you all right?" Sirius tried.

"Just a nightmare. They tend to happen after…" Remus looked away.

"It's okay, Remus," Sirius said. "I get them, too. I'm here, though, okay? In case you have another one."

"You don't have—"

"Your bed's more comfortable anyway," Sirius said, quickly.

Remus's face softened a little, before he closed his eyes. "Thank you."

"You never have to thank me, you idiot. I'm your friend," Sirius muttered, but he didn't think Remus heard him.

"I missed you, Siri," Remus murmured, delirious and half-asleep already.

"Missed you, too," Sirius whispered back and, Merlin, he didn't think he'd realised it until just now. Sirius was surprised by how much he meant it. With the notable exception of Regulus, Sirius Black had never missed anyone before. He'd never longed for someone so much that it hurt when they weren't there beside him.

The thought terrified him, really, because Remus made him vulnerable. If anyone took Remus from him, Sirius was pretty sure it might destroy him.

For Merlin's sake, he'd only known Remus for a week.

In the morning, James didn't comment on the fact that Sirius slept in Remus's bed, when Sirius accidentally woke him on his way to the shower, and, after that, their sleeping arrangement just became normal.

Despite everything Snape had done and said the day before, Sirius was determined to keep his word to Lily and not mess with Snape, unless Snape directly attacked someone other than Sirius.

In Defence Against the Dark Arts, on Wednesday morning, Snape called Sirius a blood traitor in front of the entire class. Lily shot Sirius a panicked look, before once again smacking Snape upside the head. Remus and Peter each took an arm as James tried to stand to defend Sirius's honour. Together, they yanked James back into his seat and slowly calmed him down.

Sirius flushed bright red, but did absolutely nothing.

Professor Amelia Rattleburn prattled on, as if horrible and derogatory names such as that were nothing out of the ordinary.

In History of Magic, that afternoon, Snape and the Carrow twins began to loudly theorise how Walburga and Orion Black were going to punish Sirius for being sorted into Gryffindor. Remus more or less had to toss Peter into James's lap to keep James from storming over to the Slytherins and gouging their eyes out.

Sirius, again, did absolutely nothing, though secretly he prayed his parents weren't taking suggestions from Snape and the Carrows. They were rather… creative.

Professor Binns droned on, completely and utterly oblivious.

After their final detention on Wednesday evening, James and Sirius climbed the steps to the Astronomy Tower. Fabian and Gideon Prewett were waiting for them. Both twins still sported their fuchsia beards. Sirius laughed a little.

"It still hasn't worn off?" Sirius asked.

"Nah, it did," Gideon said. "We thought they looked quite nice, so we've decided to keep them."

"Yeah," said Fabian. "The Hogwarts handbook specifically prohibits students from growing natural beards, of course, but these…" He gestured towards his face. "These are most certainly unnatural beards."

"A huge oversight in linguistics, if you ask me," Gideon said. "But, technically speaking, we're not breaking any rules."

"McGonagall tried to make us get rid of them, but—"

"—We told her these beards were part of our religion, so if she makes us get rid of them, it's discrimination."

"We figured that'd give us a few more days, until she decides to write Mum and Dad about it," Fabian said.

"Wicked," James said, cracking a wild grin.

"How 'bout this plan of yours?" Sirius prompted, leaning against the Tower wall.

"Right, of course," Fabian said. "It's rather simple, really."

"Tomorrow at breakfast, we cause a distraction, lure all the professors out of the Great Hall—"

"—Then you and Potter slip ol' Malfoy some of this."

Once again, Gideon produced a vial of Hiccuping Secrets from his robes.

James nodded. "We'll get Pete and Remus to keep watch, too, just in case. Can't have the professors interfering."

Sirius looked the twins up and down, then narrowed his eyes. "What's in it for you lot, especially if your plan actually involves you getting caught?"

"Oh, we don't mind," Gideon said.

"Especially if getting caught means the public humiliation of Lucius Malfoy," Fabian said.

"See, we've had our run-ins with Malfoy," Gideon explained, leaning in close.

"One too many, in fact," Fabian said, morosely. "Malfoy said if we tried anything else, he'd make sure his father had ours thrown out of the Ministry."

"Yeah," said Gideon. "Dad's already been demoted once, because of us."

"He can do that?" James asked, genuinely shocked.

"Of course he can," Sirius said, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. "His dad's Abraxas Malfoy. He basically runs the Ministry, along with my father and a few more blood-purists."

"That's a horrifying thought," James muttered.

Sirius couldn't help but agree. Men like his father—like Abraxas Malfoy—should never have been given power in the first place, let alone power based solely on their lineages.

"What exactly does the potion do?" Sirius asked, a little desperate for a subject change.

Fabian smirked. "It's in the name, really. Few drops of this in your morning tea, and you're forced to cough up all your secrets. The more hidden or embarrassing the secret, the more the potion compels you to spit it out."

"Yeah," Gideon said. "And if you're stupid enough to try to keep your mouth shut or try to resist the potion, all your hair falls out."

"All of it," Fabian echoed, stressing each word.

"Everywhere," Gideon finished.

"The hair-loss was more of an unintended side-effect than anything, really," Fabian said, "but it does serve as rather compelling incentive just to cough up all your secrets."

A wicked grin spread across James's face. "So," he said. "Can we see a demonstration? You know, just to make sure it works?"

The brothers exchanged a look, both of them stroking their beards in a bizarre mirror image of each other.

"Sure, Potter," Fabian said, with a wink. "Give it a go."

Gideon held out the vial. "Only a drop. Go on. Bottom's up."

James stared at the vial for a second, then took it. "Sure," he said. "I've got nothing to hide."

James let a drop fall onto his tongue, before handing the vial back.

"Black?" Gideon prompted, offering him the vial as well. "How 'bout it, eh?"

"I'll keep my secrets, thanks," Sirius bit out, a bit horrified at the thought.

Luckily, he didn't have to bother with any further explanation because, next to him, James hiccuped loudly.

"Sirius Black was the first friend I ever had."

Sirius stared at him, his mouth hanging open.

The twins exchanged a look, completely unimpressed.

"That's your deepest, darkest secret?" Gideon asked, an eyebrow raised.

James, on the other hand, flushed bright red.

Merlin, Sirius thought. How was that possible? Surely James had loads of friends, before Hogwarts. He was pure-blood, after all, and pure-bloods always have their circles of friends.

James hiccuped again, stopping Sirius's thought.

"Every Christmas, my mum gives the house elf the day off and makes the curry. She's a terrible cook, but I don't have the heart to tell her. Last year, I threw her curry in the rosebushes outside, when she wasn't looking, and I'm pretty sure it killed the neighbour's cat."

The twins burst out in a fit of laughter. Sirius managed a nervous snicker.

Once more, James hiccuped.

"My father tested every version of his hair potion on me and none of them ever worked, not even the one on the market."

"Merlin, Potter, you're as vanilla as they come," Fabian laughed.

"Am not!" James protested. The hiccups fizzled out.

"Don't worry, Potter," Gideon said. "I have a feeling Black can help sully your reputation a bit."

"Oi!" Sirius pointed a finger at James. "He hexed Malfoy so his bits were flapping around on the train. Jamie can do just fine on his own."

"Oh, we heard about that," Fabian leered.

"Is it really all…" Gideon made a rather obscene hand gesture.

"Shrivelled?" James supplied. "Yeah."

"Brilliant," the twins said together.

Later, after their plans had been hashed out and Gideon handed over the vial of Hiccuping Secrets, James and Sirius made their way back to Gryffindor Tower.

"So," Sirius said, aiming for casual and not quite getting there. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his robes. "I'm your first friend, huh?"

James turned beat red. "Ugh," he groaned. "We're not going to talk about this, are we?"

"Yes, we are," Sirius said. "How's that possible, exactly?"

James shrugged. "Didn't have siblings, I guess," he said. "And my parents are great and all, but they're still my parents. Plus, they're older, so none of their friends had kids around my age. I had a few older cousins, I guess, but I was never really close with any of them. Never really had much opportunity to make friends until I met you."

"Right, yeah," Sirius said, nodding along. "But, aside from that bit with Malfoy on the train, you didn't really like me in the beginning. Shouldn't your first friend be Peter or Remus?"

"I met you in Diagon Alley," James said. "I thought we got along just fine, then."

"Sure, but you hardly knew me at all," Sirius argued. "And after the Sorting, well. I thought you were never going to speak to me at all."

James grimaced. "It wasn't that."

"Then what was it?"

"I thought you were trying to fuck with me. I thought..." James trailed off and looked away.

"Spit it out, Jamie."

James eyed him. "You won't like it."

"Don't care," Sirius said, easily. "I'm your friend, you git. Just tell me."

"I thought you were a Slytherin spy, sent by Malfoy or your cousins or your parents to infiltrate Gryffindor."

Sirius barked a laugh. "Merlin, that's the worst idea I've ever heard. Even if I had done it as a Slytherin spy, I'd still be stuck in Gryffindor for the next seven years. Hell of a price to pay, Potter."

"Yes, well, I know that now," James huffed, indignantly. "But, then… Slughorn let you off the hook and you're a Black. I came to a reasonable conclusion."

"Reasonable, my arse," Sirius snickered.

"It seemed reasonable at the time," James said. "I know you're a right proper Gryffindor now, though. Right down to your bones."

Sirius smirked. "Aw. You're just saying that because I'm your best friend."

"You're probably right," James said, with a shrug. "Do we have to hug now?"

"Nah," Sirius said. "I figure if I'm supposed to be sullying your reputation, it's best not to get caught hugging it out in the corridors so close to curfew. We can cry about our feelings later, in private, like proper blokes."

SEPTEMBER 9, 1971

On Thursday morning, on the way to the Great Hall, Severus Snape shoved past an exhausted and barely-upright Remus and Sirius Black very nearly lost his shit.

Remus went sprawling. The books he'd been holding fanned out around him, their spines bent and pages ruffled. Remus let out a cry of pain, which was greatly muffled by the crack of his chin hitting the stone floor.

Absolutely unable to help Remus in any way that might be considered productive, Sirius whirled on Snape, his hand extended and his magic spurting between his fingers.

"Cool it, Black," Snape sneered, tipping his ridiculously large nose towards the ceiling. "The great oaf just needs to watch where he's going."

Remus pulled himself to his feet and Sirius risked a glance over. There was blood trickling down Remus's chin. He'd bitten his tongue, most likely.

Snape's gaze drifted to Remus, then back to Sirius. "What are you going to do about it, Black? Can't let it get back to Mummy that you're letting a half-blood bleed all over you."

"Fuck off, Snivellus," Sirius growled, trying to swallow the fury welling up inside him. "Right now, if you know what's good for you."

"Sirius," Remus warned. He wiped the blood from his face and summoned all his books. "I'm fine. Let's just go."

Reluctantly, Sirius let his magic fizzle out and lowered his hand. With one more withering glare at Snape, he turned and followed Remus into the Great Hall.

"Just like a dog on a leash," Snape called after him. "Follow your master, Black!"

At Remus's glare, Sirius clamped his mouth shut and didn't turn around.

As soon as he sat down, Remus poured himself a cup of tea and downed it in one go.

"How much of that potion have we got?" Sirius hissed to James, sitting down next to him.

James swallowed, then ducked his head to whisper back. "More than enough. Why?"

"We're getting Snivellus, too."

James smirked. "I like the way you think, Black."

With one more bite of his toast, James stood. He glanced around the Hall, then made his way ever-so-carefully over to the house elf entrance.

Remus narrowed his eyes at Sirius and wiped a lingering drop of blood from his lips. "You better not be doing something stupid because of me, Sirius."

"It's not because of you," Sirius protested and, well, it was mostly true. "We're getting back at Malfoy for the whole train thing."

"And you're going to keep Snape out of it?" Remus asked.

Sirius shrugged. "At this point, it's probably best if you don't ask questions. Just sit back and enjoy the show."

As if on cue, a series of loud bangs and pops reverberated throughout the castle. A number of students screamed and ducked. A few of the professors did as well, but then McGonagall drew her wand and, muttering under her breath, raced out of the Great Hall. "Remain calm and stay put!" she shouted. Every single one of the other professors followed her.

James took his place back at the table. A second later, with a nod from Sirius, Peter stood and went to stand by the ginormous doors to the Great Hall.

Remus shook his head. "Merlin, what did you two do?"

James feigned hurt and turned to Sirius. "He hears explosions and automatically assumes it's us."

"I'm flattered, Remus," Sirius laughed. "But what makes you think we're responsible for every explosion in this castle?"

They were not, in fact, responsible for this particular explosion. This particular explosion was entirely a Prewett operation and a brilliant one, at that. The plan was for the Prewetts to light off a series of fireworks near Ravenclaw tower—hopefully catching some of the tapestries on fire—thereby ensuring more James and Sirius more time as all the professors scrambled to make sure the precious works of art wouldn't perish in flames. (They wouldn't. Fabian and Gideon assured James that they spent most of the night before charming the tapestries with preservation charms. They'd still catch fire, but the damage wouldn't last.)

A second round of fireworks, set off in the dungeons, would be the signal for James and Sirius to wrap up their end of the prank. With practically nothing to set on fire in the dungeons, the Prewett twins anticipated their capture, with the consolation that James and Sirius would utterly humiliate Lucius Malfoy.

"Have they had their tea, yet?" Sirius whispered to James.

"Think so."

"Good. Would you like to do the honours?"

James inclined his head. "All you, Mr. Black."

Trying to at least be moderately subtle, Sirius stood and flicked his wrist at Malfoy. "Sonorus!" A second later, he repeated the charm on Snape. Neither of the Slytherins seemed to notice.

Remus rolled his eyes. "Christ, Sirius, what are you—"

He didn't have time to finish the thought.

Lucius Malfoy hiccuped so loudly that the Great Hall fell silent. One by one, every head turned towards the Slytherin table, just in time to hear Malfoy proclaim, in an obnoxiously loud voice, "I lost my virginity to Bellatrix Black last summer!"

Narcissa's shriek was nearly deafening. "YOU WHAT!?"

Sirius burst out laughing. A few more nervous giggles broke out across the Hall.

"Merlin," Sirius wheezed, clutching his stomach. "This is better than I could have hoped for."

"Is that," Remus began, swallowing nervously, "truth serum?"

"Close," James said, through his own snickers. "Hiccuping Secrets. Makes you spill your deepest, darkest secrets to whoever's listening."

Remus turned pale, but neither Sirius or James noticed, because, just then, Snape hiccuped.

"I have grease stains on my pillow from my hair and I can't figure out how to get them out!"

Snape clamped a hand over his mouth. All eyes at the Slytherin table turned their focus to Snape. Even Malfoy and Narcissa stopped shouting at each other to sneer down at Snape.

The entire Hall erupted in laughter. Sirius and James would have doubled over, had there not been a table to support them.

Malfoy hiccuped again.

"My mother thought I was a Squib until I got my Hogwarts letter!"

Sirius could barely contain himself. "Brilliant," he cackled. "Bloody fucking brilliant."

It was Snape's turn. "I'm terrified of the giant squid!"

More laughter.

"Sirius," Remus whispered. "Don't you think they've had enough?"

Sirius winked at him. "Not even close."

The rest of the Slytherins seemed torn between laughing at their prefect and frantically checking their own drinks to ensure they hadn't been dosed with the potion as well. Narcissa was yelling so loudly that, between the raucous laughter in the Hall and her telling Malfoy off, Sirius didn't quite catch Malfoy's next secret, even with the amplifier charm. The Slytherins, however, looked so gratifyingly scandalised that Sirius didn't care too much that he'd missed it.

Snape, on the other hand, they heard loud and clear.

"I'm in love with Lily Evans!"

"WHAT?!" James Potter and Lily Evans roared at the same time.

Shit. Sirius sobered immediately. He hadn't meant to drag Evans into this.

Remus glared at Sirius, the I told you so, you idiot plain on his face.

Unfortunately for Snape, James and Lily's reactions just made him start babbling. "Merlin, her hair! It's so beautiful. Red, like a rose, even though she's called Lily. Lily. Merlin, I can't stop thinking about her, even when..."

Snape just kept talking.

Lily looked like she was torn between bursting out in tears and murdering the first person that crossed her path. She raised her wand and pointed it at Snape.

Sirius realised what she was going to do a second too late. "Wait, Evans, don't—!"

"Silencio!"

Snape swallowed his words, then visibly hiccuped again, but still no words came out.

A second later, every greasy strand of hair on Snape's head fell out and onto the Slytherin table. The Slytherins sitting around him leapt out of the way, their faces contorted in disgust.

Lily made a strangled noise that sounded suspiciously like a sob and ran over to him. Snape's pale, sallow skin turned a vibrant shade of pink and he absolutely refused to acknowledge her.

"Well," said Sirius, trying to contain his laughter, "at least his pillow will be safe for a while."

A second round of explosions echoed through the castle.

Lucius Malfoy hiccuped.

"I've seen the Cruciatus curse—"

"Silencio!" Narcissa shouted, her voice a wild and reverberating shriek.

Malfoy's hair fell out, but this time, nobody laughed. A deathly silence fell over the Hall and it had nothing to do with Narcissa's spell.

Sirius felt his blood run cold. He'd never been naive enough to think that the Blacks were the only pure-blood family who used the Unforgivables, but to hear it said so plainly—in the middle of the Great Hall, no less…

Shit.

There were consequences to revealing the secrets of any pure-blood family.

Narcissa rose to her feet. She stood still, for a moment, heaving deep, measured breaths. Every eye in the Hall focused on her.

"SIRIUS!" she bellowed.

Sirius stood.

"Yes, Cissa?" He didn't bother keeping the false bravado out of his voice. It was the only thing keeping the rising panic at bay.

Merlin, he couldn't go down for this. His mother would murder him, then use his bones in a graveyard sacrifice to the incarnation of evil itself.

"You complete monster!" Narcissa's normally pale face turned a bright pink. It was not a good colour on her. "Your mother will hear about this!"

Fuck.

Next to him, Remus stood up. "How do you know it was Sirius?"

Narcissa sputtered. Clearly, she wasn't used to being directly addressed by first year Gryffindors. "Because it was!"

"Did you see Sirius hex them? Or put something in their food?" Remus asked, his voice remarkably calm.

"Well, no, but I—"

"Then you can't know it was him," Remus said.

Narcissa huffed and placed her hands on her hips. "Who else would have done it?"

"It was my understanding that Malfoy has no shortage of enemies," Remus said. "The truth could have been used as a weapon by any number of them, certainly not excluding yourself."

Narcissa drew her wand and pointed it at the centre of Remus's chest. "What the hell do you mean by that?!"

Sirius raised his hand, ready to defend Remus, his magic sparking and flickering, but Remus waved him off.

"Malfoy just admitted to sleeping with your sister," Remus said, his voice as calm as ever. "Perhaps you had a suspicion before and wanted proof, so you gave him a truth serum. You'd have a greater chance of dosing any one of the Slytherins than Sirius ever would. So, in my opinion, it's far more logical to assume that you're the culprit and that Sirius is merely your scapegoat."

Holy mother of Merlin, Sirius loved Remus Lupin.

Narcissa, however, clearly didn't share the sentiment. "How dare you suggest that, you filthy, little—"

She was cut off by Peter's squeak and frantic gestures from the front of the Hall.

A second later, the Prewett twins threw open the doors and strolled in, closely trailed by a furious Professor McGonagall. Their faces were smudged with soot and both of their pink beards were covered in ash. Gideon had a small burn on his temple. Both were grinning like mad idiots.

McGonagall froze, taking in the scene that greeted her in the Great Hall: Narcissa with her wand drawn, two bald Slytherins, a sobbing Lily Evans, and Sirius and James looking, all together, a bit smug.

"Well, well," Fabian said. "It seems we've missed something, Gid."

"Such a shame. We're off causing general mischief and mayhem and suddenly the Slytherins develop male pattern baldness. I hope it isn't catching."

Gideon feigned horror and lovingly stroked his beard.

"Have to say, Malfoy," Fabian said, with a wink, "I think it's a huge improvement."

Malfoy rose to his feet and tried to retort, but Narcissa's silencing spell had done its job. He choked on whatever he was about to say and the Prewetts burst out laughing.

"Enough!" McGonagall shouted. Her eyes scanned the crowd, then zeroed in on Sirius. "Mr. Black, I should like to know the meaning of all this."

"Oi! Why does everyone assume this was my fault?"

Technically speaking, it was his fault, but that wasn't the point.

"Professor," James said. "No one saw Sirius do anything to the Slytherins."

McGonagall pushed her square spectacles up her nose. "Is this true, Miss Black?"

Narcissa gave a short nod, then stowed her wand, and sat back down with a huff of frustration.

"Right," Fabian said, clapping his hands together. "Since nobody asked, we're fine, by the way."

Gideon smiled. "Bit singed around the edges, and—"

''—And a little hurt that our brilliance has thus far gone unnoticed."

"Your brilliance," McGonagall snapped, "has cost Gryffindor one hundred points." (From the other end of the Gryffindor table, Frank Longbottom let out a cry of dismay.) "I expect better of the both of you."

"Hear that, Fabian? Next time, she wants more fireworks."

That earned the twins a few snickers.

McGonagall raised her wand and sent down a shower of sparks. "That's enough! Now, off to class, all of you. That's quite enough excitement for one day."

One by one, the students gathered their things and trickled out of the Great Hall.

"That was fucking brilliant, Remus!" Sirius said, the second they were out of the Slytherins' earshot.

James jogged up and slung an arm across Remus's shoulders. He had to reach up and stand on his toes a bit to do it, given Remus's height, but one could never fault James Potter for his effort. "Our hero," he cooed. "I thought for sure Narcissa was going to have Sirius's head. Then mine, two, by extension." He threw a wink at Sirius. "No one should face decapitation alone."

"Thanks, mate," Sirius deadpanned, but he smiled too.

"But no heads shall roll today!" shouted James, jumping up a little so he could ruffle Remus's hair. "Not with Remus Lupin, true Gryffindor and brilliant teller of tall tales, on our side!"

Remus shrugged James off. "Couldn't let you two get detention again," he muttered, throwing a glance at Sirius. "If you're going to make a move against Malfoy, you've got to be sure you won't get caught."

"Hear, hear!" Sirius chanted, pretending to raise a glass. He absolutely refused to let the implications of Remus's warning drag him down from his high. They had gotten away with it. Sure, Malfoy had said some… unsavoury things, but neither the Slytherins nor the professors could prove that he, Sirius Black, had anything to do with it.

They'd gotten back at Malfoy and Snape, embarrassed them both thoroughly, and walked away with virtually unscathed, thanks to Remus. Of all the possible outcomes he'd envisioned—and quite a few of them had involved his mother finding out about their prank—this was the best possible result.

"You're sure your cousin won't say anything to the professors?" Peter asked, trailing behind them a little.

"She won't," Sirius said. "Everyone heard what Malfoy confessed. My guess is even Malfoy suspects Cissa at this point. There's no end to the treachery among the pure-bloods."

"But she's the one that silenced him," Peter said. "He'll know pretty quickly that it wasn't her."

"Pete's right," Remus said, apparently determined to be the voice of reason in all this. "He might not be able to prove anything, but Malfoy's not an idiot. He'll come after all of us soon enough."

Ugh. Sirius had no doubt that was true.

"All of us?" Peter squeaked. "Why's he after me? I didn't do anything!"

"Oi!" Sirius glared at him. "Are you kidding me, Pettigrew? You're just going to leave us to the wolves? Some Gryffindor you are."

"You were the lookout, Pete," James pointed out. "You were definitely involved."

"Yeah, but—"

Remus cut him off. "All I'm saying is that we all need to watch our backs."

"Or, conversely," James began, raising a finger, "we immediately start planning our next ingenious prank against Malfoy and his gang."

All things considered, Sirius wholeheartedly agreed.

"Picture this: Black and Potter. The greatest purveyors of mischief Hogwarts has ever seen!" James said.

"Don't forget Lupin," Sirius said, giving Remus an award-winning smile. "Our fiendish mastermind and loyal advocate, should we get caught."

"And Pettigrew." James threw an arm across Peter's shoulders. "Our faithful lookout."

"Oh, Merlin. We're all going to be serving detention until we graduate," Remus grumbled, but Sirius thought he looked rather proud.

In Transfiguration, McGonagall gave a stern lecture on how pranks were certainly unbecoming of Hogwarts students and would no longer be tolerated. The Prewetts, she said, despite their reputations, were not to be idolised for their misdeeds, even if they were all in the name of fun.

James Potter kept throwing conspiratorial glances at Sirius, and even so much as dared to mock McGonagall when she wasn't looking. Clearly, James took McGonagall's lecture as a challenge and Sirius loved him for it.

McGonagall, for her part, drove every point home with a stern glare at Sirius. Even though he knew he played a role in this particular prank, McGonagall certainly didn't know that and the Prewetts had officially taken the fall for it. As far as she could prove, he was innocent, yet she still assumed his guilt. Whether it was because of his name alone or the incident last week in the first Transfiguration class, Sirius wasn't sure. Either way, it was bloody unfair. Sure, he'd been involved in this particular instance, but not everything that went awry in Hogwarts castle was his fault.

After class, Remus hung back. "Sirius?" he said. "Can I, um. Can I speak to you?"

Sirius paused. "Yeah, sure."

They waited until the classroom cleared out. McGonagall threw one more demeaning look at Sirius before following her students into the corridor.

When Remus didn't immediately say anything and refused to look at him, all the things that could possibly be wrong flashed through Sirius's head. Were Remus's wrists still bleeding, or…?

Merlin, what if Remus had to go home again?

Finally, Remus met his eyes. "That potion you and James used… it was a truth serum?"

Sirius barely had time to exchange his relief for general confusion. "Um, yeah, I think so. The Prewetts brewed it. It's called Hiccuping Secrets. My guess is there's at least a drop of Veritaserum in it."

Remus nodded. "And it… forces you to tell the truth?"

"Yes."

"You shout out your darkest secrets?"

"That's the general idea," Sirius said, slowly. "Look, Remus, we tested it on James, and well… First of all, it was hilarious, but more importantly, it's perfectly safe. You don't even lose all your hair unless you try to fight the potion."

"Were you going to use it on me?"

The question floored him. All the air rushed from Sirius's lungs. "What?! Remus, no. Fuck, no!"

Remus fidgeted and looked embarrassed. "It's just that… You keep asking about my scars and—"

"Because I'm worried about you, Remus!" Merlin, he hadn't meant to say it like that. Sirius took a breath. "I would never force you to give up your secrets. I'll probably pester you until the sky falls down, but only because I want to help if someone's hurting you. I'm your friend, goddamnit. I'd never dose you with truth serum." He paused, pleading with Remus now. "You believe me, don't you?"

Remus sighed and nodded. "Yes, I believe you."

"Because I'd never hurt you," he rambled on, almost as if Remus hadn't spoken at all. "I can't stand it, seeing you—or… or anyone I care about, really—in pain. Hell, the only reason I told James to slip Snape his own dose was because—"

Remus held up a hand and Sirius stopped, mid-confession.

"You… You put the potion in Snape's glass because of me?"

"He shoved you!"

"I'm fine, Sirius."

"I don't care," Sirius growled. "He shoved you. You were bleeding. That made Snape fair game."

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. "You've made all of us a target," he said, but there was no accusation in his voice. It was just a fact.

"What?"

"Sirius, you made Snape and Malfoy spill their deepest, darkest secrets in front of everyone. Do you really think there won't be consequences?"

"We can handle them," he insisted. "Or, like James said, we strike first."

"Look," Remus said, with a heavy sigh. "If you wan't to go after Malfoy or Snape or anyone in Slytherin, I'll help you, if only to keep you from doing something stupid, but—"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I appreciate the vote of confidence. I've gotten away with pranking my cousin and Malfoy since I was little."

Remus shrugged, unfazed by Sirius's sarcasm. "Not unscathed."

Sirius swallowed his next comment.

No, he'd certainly not made it out unscathed. There was a time, at Bella's birthday gathering, when Sirius had been nine. It wasn't long after he'd gotten his tattoo, and—

Fuck, he wasn't going to think about that right now. The tattoo might still be there, but those bruises had healed long ago.

Remus watched him carefully. "I can't afford to have my secrets revealed in the middle of the Great Hall."

Neither can I, Sirius thought bitterly, absently rubbing his tattoo through his robes.

"People could get hurt," Remus continued. "I'd be expelled."

Expelled?!

Oh, holy mother of Merlin, he needed to find out what Remus was hiding.

"If Malfoy gets a hold of the Prewett's potion—"

"He won't," Sirius snapped.

"But if—"

"We'll go talk to the Prewetts," Sirius said. "Right fucking now, if you like."

Remus raised an eyebrow.

"You're right," Sirius said. Remus looked rather smug about this, but honestly, Sirius couldn't blame him. It'd been stupid, this whole Hiccuping Secrets thing. Hilarious, sure, but definitely stupid. "Secrets need to be off the table. So we convince the Prewetts we have reason to believe Malfoy might retaliate in the same fashion and ask them to not brew any more potion."

"Your plan is to… ask the Prewetts for a favour?"

"We could destroy the Potion Lab with Fiendfyre, if that would make you feel better."

Remus snorted a laugh. "It would, actually. But I'm not sure I'd like to spend the rest of my days in Azkaban for arson."

"You're right," Sirius said. "If we're gonna get ourselves thrown in Azkaban, it damn well better be for something awesome."

Remus laughed again, raw and genuine, and, Merlin, it was a relief to see him smile.

When they'd both laughed more than perhaps their exchange warranted, Remus said, "So. We're asking the Prewetts for a favour?"

Sirius nodded. "Shouldn't be too hard. I think Fabian has a crush on me."

This set Remus off laughing again.

One amicable and mutually beneficial conversation later, and Fabian and Gideon Prewett had agreed to stop the production of hiccuping Secrets while at Hogwarts, on the condition that James, Remus, Peter and Sirius take up the sole mantle as the antagonisers of Slytherins, namely Malfoy. The Prewetts, it seemed, wanted to retire from plots of vengeance and humiliation and instead focus more on general mischief and mayhem. Sirius, if he was honest, didn't see why the two should be mutually exclusive, but he hadn't found that necessary to point out to Fabian or Gideon.

The rest of the day was more or less uneventful. James and Peter left to go watch the Ravenclaw Quidditch team practice after lunch, while Remus and Sirius headed to the library. Immediately upon entering, Remus cracked open no less than four books and began reading from all of them, simultaneously, one sentence at a time from each.

"Have to catch up," he muttered under his breath, when Sirius told him to take it easy.

Without another word, Sirius slid Remus all the notes he'd taken over the past few days, which was enough to distract Remus from the books. Remus set about copying the notes by hand, until Sirius showed him a wandless spell to copy them with magic. After that, Remus began cross-referencing the notes with the books, and Sirius lost all interest and tried not to be too insulted. Sirius prided himself on his note-taking ability; he knew all of the information was already correct.

Sirius leaned back in his chair, balancing on the back two legs and propping his feet up on the table. His feet landed on the book Remus was currently reading. Remus glared at him. "Sirius."

"Hm?"

"I have to study."

"I can see that."

Remus rolled his eyes. "You're not helping."

"I gave you my notes!"

"I appreciate it," Remus said.

Sirius smirked at him. "You really should. Contrary to popular belief, I really am a brilliant student."

"And humble, too, apparently," Remus deadpanned.

"No need to be humble when you're a prodigy."

"Good lord," Remus grumbled. He tried a different approach. "Sirius, I have stack of Muggle novels in my trunk."

Now that was intriguing. Sirius put his feet back on the floor and leaned forward. "Really?"

"Really." Remus put on a charming smile, all scars and freckles and amber eyes. "And you can borrow any one you choose, so long as you let me study and kindly fuck off."

"Deal," Sirius said immediately, with a gleam in his eye. He grabbed his bag and stood. "Uh, Remus…?"

Remus raised an eyebrow.

"As brilliant as I am," Sirius started, hesitating only slightly, "I know next to nothing about Muggle literature, so… Any suggestions? I know James likes this Shakes-a-lot—"

"Shakespeare," Remus said, laughing a little. "And you should probably work your way up to him. Try Frankenstein."

"Franken-what now?"

"Frankenstein. Mary Shelley. It's a well-worn copy, towards the top of the stack. It's a red book with grey trim."

Sirius nodded. "Shouldn't be too hard to find."

Remus narrowed his eyes and pointed a threatening finger at him. "If you ruin my book, Sirius Black, I will have to kill you. I'll feel bad about it, but I will have to kill you."

Sirius gave a mock salute. "Noted."

Then, he marched up to Gryffindor tower.

When he crawled through the portrait hole, Sirius thought he was alone, until Lily Evans marched right up to him and punched him in the stomach.

Merlin, fuck—!

"OW!" Sirius said, more from the pain touching her than her punch. Though, if he's being honest, Lily Evans can throw a damn good punch.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I have a bone to pick with you, Sirius Black."

Ah. Snape.

"He shoved Remus!" Sirius protested, rubbing his stomach a little. It would probably bruise, but nothing like the ones he's used to.

"You don't get to be the executioner of justice!" she yelled, standing on her toes so she was inches from his face.

"Why the hell not?" he yelled back, putting distance between them. "None of the professors were going to do anything about it!"

"You said you'd leave him out of it!"

"I kept my word, Evans! Snape's been saying shit about me all of yesterday and I didn't do a damn thing, but this morning, he shoved Remus, and—"

"I know," she snapped. "Fuck, I know! Marlene saw Severus push him."

"Then why am I here?" Sirius asked, lowering his voice. "More importantly, why are you hitting me?"

She took half a step forward. Sirius took half a step back, wondering if she was going to take another swing.

"I wanted to talk to you about secrets," Lily said.

Sirius laughed. "Yeah, well, save it. I've already had that particular conversation with Remus."

He edged around her, careful not to touch, then sank into one of the armchairs, dangling one leg over an armrest.

Lily turned on her heel. "And?"

"And what?"

"What was the outcome of that particular conversation?"

Sirius shrugged. "We concluded that, though revealing secrets has a potentially hilarious outcome, secrets are, first and foremost, a liability and one that could just as easily be used against us." He paused and waved his hand. A tiny flame appeared and he let it dance over his fingers before extinguishing it. "So, in essence, revealing secrets for pranking and/or revenge purposes is now strictly off the table."

Lily nodded once. "Good."

He flicked another flame into being. "Plus, we made the Prewetts swear on their magic that they wouldn't give that potion to anyone else at Hogwarts."

"Even better." Her voice changed. Lily looked down at her shoes.

For a horrifying second, Sirius thought she was crying, but then she looked up and her eyes were dry. She looked… hurt, though, and he knew why.

"I, uh," he began, not really sure how to do this, but knowing he needed to all the same. "I didn't mean to get you involved. I'm… sorry I made him say that. In front of everyone."

"But you're not sorry about giving him whatever it is you gave him or about the other things he said or about how all his hair fell out?"

At this point, he didn't see any point in lying to her. "No. Not sorry for that, really. He hurt Remus."

She nodded, sniffed, and was quiet for a moment. Then, she walked over and sat in the chair across from him. She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, and fixed him with a hard stare.

"Sirius?"

"Yeah?"

"Are we—" She fidgeted again. He noticed she did that a lot when she didn't know what to say. "Are we friends?"

He hadn't been expecting that.

She didn't give him a chance to reply. "I'm not asking because you're sorry for embarrassing me or even because of what happened at breakfast. I just… I want to know where you and I stand."

Sirius put both feet on the ground and mimicked her pose. "Do you want to be friends with me?"

"I think so."

He narrowed his eyes. "Why? Because, trust me, Evans, you're not Snape. You've handled yourself just fine so far. You don't need my protection."

Lily's face scrunched up. "Your protection?!"

Sirius waved her off. "And, let's be honest here, I painted a huge fucking target on my back the second I asked the Hat for Gryffindor, so even if I was offering protection, it'd be shit."

"Did you offer Potter or Remus your 'protection'?"

Sirius gulped. He considered the possibility that he severely misunderstood her intention in asking for his friendship. "What? No."

"Why not?"

"They're different."

"Because they're boys or because they're higher born than me?"

Well, he walked right into that one. "I, um. I don't think I want to answer that."

Lily smirked, triumphant. "Hah. Even Sirius Black has a blood bias."

His stomach lurched. "No—fuck—I don't—!"

"Grow out of it. Right now."

"Yes, ma'am."

Merlin, he meant it too. Anything and everything to separate himself from the horrible philosophies forced down his throat since he was born and named heir.

"I do not need your protection," Lily Evans said.

Sirius nodded. "Understood."

"And I would like to be your friend."

He paused. "Okay, honestly? That one I don't get."

"You're loyal. Kind, too, I think, when you want to be." A wicked smirk crept across her face. "Plus, no one in their right mind would expect it."

Sirius barked a laugh. "Ah, you're here for the danger of defying societal norms. I admire that."

"I'm a Gryffindor, aren't I?" she said, a wild gleam in her eye.

"S'pose you are." He waved his hand, once more conjuring a flame. "There are drawbacks to this whole arrangement, you know."

Lily nodded, serenely. "You are a bit of an arse."

"Fair enough," he said, letting the tiny fire dance across his knuckles. "I think I hate Severus Snape."

Lily's smile fell a little and she heaved a sigh. "I don't think that's entirely unwarranted, given your interactions with him."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"But," she continued, "you should probably know that he's my best friend and, deep down, he is a good person. I won't stop being friends with him for you or for anyone."

"I wouldn't ask you to. But I still hate him."

Lily Evans knew how to match him blow for blow. Merlin, Sirius loved it. "I'm not feeling particularly fond of James Potter at the moment."

The flame in his hand inched up his arm a bit, flickering across the sleeves of his robes, before Sirius closed his fist and snuffed it out. "Why hate James and not me?"

"You're an arse, but at least you show a general sense of compassion for your fellow man. I saw how you helped Remus the other day."

Compassion, huh?

"You should know," Sirius said, "that James Potter is my best friend and, deep down, is a good person."

"Then we understand each other. We don't choose between our friends."

Sirius nodded.

They sat in a comfortable silence, both openly sizing each other up.

Eventually, Sirius said, "There are other things to consider than James and Snape, Evans."

"You're quite posh, you know that? I wasn't aware this was a negotiation."

"I'm trying to help you make an informed decision, and, for that, there are a few things you should probably know."

Say, for instance: My mother would probably kill both of us if she knew we were speaking together.

And: There's a tattoo on my chest that means I can never touch you.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Oh, please, do go on."

This was a challenge to her.

No sense in beating around the bush, then.

"My family would hunt you down for just talking to me."

Lily frowned. "Because I'm—"

"Muggle-born. Yes, but they would probably not use that word."

"Huh." That wild gleam was back in her eyes. "I did mention this secret motivation of mine that involved obliterating everyone's opinions of what should be considered normal, did I not?"

Bravery, even if it was stupid. Like any true Gryffindor.

"If Malfoy even suspects you're my friend, he'll perform the blood curse again."

At this, Lily Evans almost looked excited. "I've been meaning to tell you that I'm looking for a cure to that. Do you want to help?"

"There's no cure. I've checked."

(But, Merlin, imagine a world in which there was a cure or a counter-curse for that godforsaken tattoo on his chest. He could—)

Sirius shook his head. Now was not the time. "Just to be clear, while we're on the subject of Slytherins and Malfoy and, well, Snape—"

Lily groaned. "Are we still on that?"

"—As long as Snape continues to threaten my friends, I'm not going to let him get away with it."

"Nor will I stop putting you in your place if and when you go too far," she said. "Now, are you done trying to convince me we shouldn't be friends?"

He laughed a little. "Not quite. Contrary to popular belief, I am not the picture of perfection you see before you. I'm allergic to chocolate, I can't sing for shit—but that doesn't stop me from trying—and, as Remus said, I have a thing about germs, so I will not be touching you under any circumstances short of actual mortal peril."

Lily considered this. "Okay. Is that it?"

Well, there's the tattoo, and the crazy mother, and the dying wand—

"Think so, yes," he said, instead.

"Good." She stood up, then strolled towards the stairs that led to the girls' dormitory. "Guess you're stuck with me, Sirius Black."

Sirius smiled, ducking his head a little. Lily Evans, Muggle-born Gryffindor, was a force of nature and, Merlin, he was just stuck in her wake.

He loved every minute of it.

"Think it's the other way around, Evans."

Lily paused, halfway up the first few steps, and turned back to face him.

"Are you really allergic to chocolate?"

Andromeda,

You're never going to believe what I got Malfoy to say in front of the entire school! (Hint: You might want to watch out. He seems to have a thing for the Black sisters.) Merlin, I don't think I've ever seen Cissa so mad! He said some other stuff, too, and Narcissa nearly had my head, but my wonderful, amazingly clever friend, Remus Lupin, intervened and I was saved!

Anyway, I've included a dramatic retelling of the whole affair that you can peruse at your leisure, before forwarding on to Regulus. I have a feeling he'd love it.

Thanks,

Sirius

Merlin, Sirius!

You should know, Feathers was in a right state after I read him your "dramatic retelling". First, he laughed (Well, we both did—you should be a novelist, Siri!), then he wanted to storm up to Hogwarts to give Malfoy a piece of his mind. "If you think you can lay your slimy little hands on my 'Dromeda…etc., etc." He doesn't mean it, of course. Neither of us are stupid enough to cross Malfoy. We'll leave that up to you and Potter, thank you very much. I think Feathers mostly said that because I find it hot. Merlin, I love him. Ugh, sorry.

I, um. Well. Sirius, I haven't forwarded your "dramatic retelling" to Reg, just yet, but I will if you insist on it. I thought that even if there was the slightest chance that the Warden might be reading the letters we keep sending to Regulus, then it's best not to risk it. If she knew about the Hiccuping Secrets, she'd only hold it against you and I don't want to make things worse for you or Reg, come Christmas.

Like I said, I'll still send it if you want me to, so long as you understand the risks.

Love, always,

Andromeda and Feathers (who requested I convey his gratitude to you)

P.S. I think I would quite like to meet your wonderful, amazingly clever friend, Remus Lupin. You'll have to bring him next time I see you at Hagrid's.

Andromeda,

Merlin, I hadn't thought of that at all. Don't send it. I definitely can't risk the Warden hearing about it. I'll just tell Reg about it over the holidays.

I'm glad you and Feathers enjoyed my dramatic retelling. I shall consider a career as a novelist when the time comes.

Sirius

P.S. I'll bring Remus around. Just don't shake his hand. Don't know why, but it feels like you've thrown your entire body into the fucking sun. He'll understand. He has suspicions on why I can't touch anyone, but I haven't told him the full story.

SEPTEMBER 23, 1971

With the help of Madam Pomfrey's potions, it had only taken about two days for Snape's and Malfoy's hair to grow back, but they were a glorious two days, in which the Prewetts and four Gryffindor first years were heralded as heroes over the vanquished and bald Slytherins.

For next the two weeks, James went around the castle giving free, dramatic performances of Snape's deepest, darkest secrets and subsequent hair-loss. Lily Evans hexed him stupid on no less than five separate occasions. There came a point when James Potter would no longer get annoyed with Lily's hexes, but instead, he'd get this ridiculous doe-eyed look on his face and then drone on about her greatness until either Sirius or Remus hexed his mouth shut. Sirius and Remus had a working theory that James kept up the impressions of Snape for the sole purpose of falling victim to one of Lily's hexes.

Peter, on the other hand, couldn't figure out why someone would be that stupid. It was a fair point, Sirius conceded, but neither he nor Remus particularly felt like explaining James's little crush to Peter.

Standing outside the Transfiguration classroom, James was under the influence of what looked to be a Babel Hex. He spouted off a stream of rapid-fire, nonsensical words, and seemed to have absolutely no clue that he was speaking gibberish. They caught bits of English, then French and Latin, and perhaps some Yiddish, along with some…

"Merlin, what language is that?" Sirius asked, scrunching his face up at James, who just kept talking.

"I think that's Mermish," Remus said, equally dumbfounded by James Potter's newfound linguistic skills.

"Mermish," Sirius repeated. "As in—"

"The language of the merpeople, yes," Remus said. James continued to blubber on, slowly starting to realise that his friends couldn't understand him. "Well, now I think that's Cantonese. Or Japanese. Or Korean. I can't really tell."

"What do you think we sound like to him?" Peter asked.

"Hm. Good question," Sirius said, stroking his chin. "Do you think he's trying to tell us something?"

James let out a frustrated sigh and flicked two fingers up at him.

"See, now that I understood," Sirius said with a smirk.

Lily Evans walked in. Remus and Sirius stood and applauded.

"Excellent hex work today, Evans," Sirius said.

"You're truly the best out of all of us," Remus said.

Lily took a bow.

James threw his book at Sirius's head, but Sirius ducked, and it hit Peter square in the face. While Remus dealt with the fallout, Sirius snuck away to stand beside Lily. Together, they watched as Remus crumpled James's homework and used it to mop the blood coming from Peter's nose.

Lily side-eyed him. "Remus gave me the impression that you were quite handy with healing spells."

"Oh, I am," he said, waving his hand and conjuring a bit of his magic. "I'll fix him before McGonagall gets here. This is too funny to cut short."

James tried to hex Remus for destroying his homework, but the spell kept coming out in Russian and fizzling out. James threw a desperate glance at Sirius. His face immediately went slack-jawed and stupid once he caught sight of Lily.

"You should really stop, you know," Sirius said to Lily.

She flashed him her best smile. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

"He's besotted. Totally beside himself. Utterly and completely in love with you."

"Who? Potter?!" Lily wrinkled her nose. "In love with me?!"

"Yes," Sirius said, laughing a little. "You didn't pick up on that when he proposed to you?"

"I just thought he was being a berk."

"Oh, he definitely was," Sirius said.

James walked over to them, his full attention on Lily Evans, as he began reciting an epic love poem in what could only be understood as Pig-Latin.

Lily tried not to laugh."Hm. Guess I'll find a hex that'll make him swallow his tongue next."

Without looking away from James, Sirius said, "Careful, Evans, or I'll fall in love with you."

James turned beat red and glared death at Sirius.

"I'm not your type, Black," she said with a scoff.

"Nah, you're not my type," he echoed.

And that was how it went.

James and Sirius, with the help of their brilliant mastermind, Remus Lupin, continued to hex Slytherins left and right. As per Sirius's agreement with Lily, they stayed away from Snape, though Sirius refused to tell James and Remus exactly why. Malfoy and Snape watched them—Sirius could feel their gazes on the back of his neck at all times, like an evil spirit clinging to the mere taste of his flesh—but neither of them acted. They were planning something, Sirius knew, biding their time like good little Slytherins, but he didn't let it worry him too much. He was still the Black heir, and Gryffindor though he may be, his name still afforded him some degree of protection, and his friends, by extension. Neither Malfoy nor Snape could afford to alienate themselves from one of the most powerful wizarding houses in Britain.

Though Malfoy and Snape were temporarily off the table, their Slytherin compatriots were more than fair game for the Gryffindors' pranks. One morning, right after breakfast, Remus hit one of the Carrow twins with a sticking hex, not all that dissimilar from the one James used to glue Sirius to the bench in McGonagall's classroom. It hadn't done anything at first, and Sirius and James almost lost faith, but then Alecto jumped on her brother's shoulders in excitement, when the Quidditch schedule was announced, and, well, she was quite stuck there. It'd taken Flitwick and McGonagall to get the two wailing Slytherins unstuck from each other, while the four Gryffindor boys laughed until they couldn't breathe on the other side of the Hall.

Nights, Sirius mostly spent with Remus, on the roof, outside their dormitory after Remus came back from the library. They talked about everything not important, from the actual rules of Quidditch—because somehow Remus still tuned James out every time he tried to talk about Beaters and Snitches—to an in-depth analysis and eventual debate on the philosophical implications of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. (Sirius had great sympathy for the monster, created against his will and forced to do his master's bidding. Remus, while acknowledging that Frankenstein the man was a monster in his own right for what he'd done, refused to give any dignity to the monster's tragic story and circumstance itself.) Then, afterwards they'd just stared at the stars for a good long while, occasionally with Sirius pointing out constellations named after his least favourite family members, they'd crawl back inside and usually end up sharing a bed, with a pillow situated between them.

Early in the mornings, when Remus was still sleeping and the sun had not quite risen, Sirius would lie awake, staring at the bed hangings or at Remus's scars. He'd allow himself a few moments to bask in the thrill of his life here, in Gryffindor tower. It was everything his parents would hate. Everything they'd feared he'd become.

Sirius Black was home, here, in this magic castle with moving staircases and talking paintings.

It was perfect, this life, even in its imperfection. The consequences be damned.

OCTOBER 3, 1971

One Sunday morning, about a month into classes, Remus Lupin stumbled into the Great Hall around nine, just as breakfast was ending, looking bleary and out of it. Remus had still been asleep when Sirius had returned to the dorm after an early morning jog through the castle. It wasn't entirely unusual, save for the fact that now, even after a few more hours of sleep, Remus looked like he hadn't slept at all in days.

Remus sat down and piled his plate with bacon. He was pale and a bit sallow, which made his scars far more noticeable than they already were. His eyes were sunken in and half-lidded, and, for a moment, Sirius wondered if Remus might be sleep-walking, until Remus glanced up at him and—

"Your eyes are gold again," Sirius blurted.

This seemed to wake Remus up a little. He stared directly at his breakfast and his ears turned pink. "Are they?"

"Why do they do that?" Sirius asked, trying to catch another glimpse of Remus's eyes.

"Do what?"

"Change colour."

"They haven't changed colour."

"Yes, they have," Sirius said, a little frustrated. He wasn't fucking crazy. "Yesterday, they were this brownish colour, like honey. Today, they're gold."

"Those are two very similar colours, Sirius. I'm sure it's just your imagination."

"It is not!"

"What's not?" James said, taking his seat beside Remus. Peter sat down next to Sirius and reached for some of Remus's bacon, but then pulled his hand back when threatened by Remus's menacing glare.

Remus forced his features back to normal. Then, with a very deliberate glare at Peter, he popped another piece of bacon in his mouth and said, "Siri thinks my eyes are changing colour."

James grabbed Remus by the chin and stared intently into his eyes. A second later, he released him. "Maybe they're a little different, but it's probably just the lighting."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "You are no use whatsoever, Potter."

"Love you too, Black."

"Peter's on my side, aren't you, Pete?" Sirius said, turning to him.

Peter swallowed nervously and squinted at Remus. "I've never really noticed the colour of his eyes to begin with. I'm not sure I should take a side."

Sirius buried his head in his hands. "Complete and utter betrayal. Why do I even bother to keep you lot around?"

"Because we're nice to look at," James deadpanned.

"Nah, that's what those magazines are for, mate," Sirius shot back, with a wink.

Remus snickered. It took James a solid thirty seconds before he understood what Sirius meant, then, he promptly choked on his tea.

"Gross, Sirius," James said, wiping dribble from his chin.

Sirius just shrugged. "So, Jamie, what's the plan for tomorrow? It's been a week or two since we've really done anything to Avery, and yesterday, I saw him shoving around some Hufflepuffs and calling them some unsavoury names. I hexed him, of course, but I don't think he quite got the message."

"Well, now that you mention it," James said, "I procured some Dungbombs from the Prewetts—"

"Merlin, I love those two," Sirius cut in.

"—And I was thinking that you and Remus should distract Avery. You know, taunt him and the like. Then, I'll hit him with a numbing charm from behind, so he won't feel anything, and Pete will slip the Dungbomb into his trousers. Avery won't notice a thing until he starts stinking up the place."

"Why do I have to be the one to touch his arse?" Peter whined.

Sirius ignored him and wiggled around excitedly. "Perfect. So, tomorrow after breakfast, Remus and I will—"

"I can't," Remus said.

All three boys turned to look at him.

"What?" Sirius said. "Why not?"

Remus refused to meet his eyes. A profound sadness seemed to wash over him.

"I have to go away again," Remus said. "My mum…"

James's features softened to something like sympathy. "She's sick again?"

Remus nodded. "She's always sick, it's just… more, this time. I'm leaving tomorrow morning."

Sirius clamped his jaw shut and didn't say anything. He refused to react like he had last time, even though every instinct he had told him to beg Remus to stay.

"How long will you be gone?" Peter asked.

Remus gave a noncommittal shrug. "Few days, at least."

And he'll come back with even more scars, that evil, annoyingly logical voice in Sirius's brain supplied.

"'S no big deal," James said, trying to wave off the air of tension that suddenly surrounded them. "We'll wait until you're back to get Avery, Remus."

"Don't worry about it," Remus said, forcing a smile. "Avery needs to be put in his place, the sooner the better. I'll help with the next one."

James and Peter exchanged a glance. Sirius refused to tear his eyes from Remus.

"If you're sure…" James said.

"I'm sure," Remus said.

James cast a Tempus spell then immediately jumped to his feet, nearly banging his knees on the table as he did so.

"Merlin, we're supposed to meet McKinnon on the Quidditch pitch. The Prewetts are supposed to give us lessons after practice. Pete, you're with me. Sirius, are you—"

"I'll catch up," Sirius said, his attention still completely on Remus.

Remus tugged at the edges of his jumper and pretended to eat a little more bacon.

"Suit yourself," James said, then he and Peter left the Hall.

Sirius let the silence fester between them a bit, before he said, "You know what I'm going to say."

Remus nodded. "You don't want me to go."

"Right," Sirius breathed. "Any use in trying to talk you into staying?"

Remus looked down, heartbroken and defeated. "No."

"Will you be… hurt?" Merlin, Sirius nearly choked on the question.

"That's…" Remus hesitated. "That's always a possibility."

Fuck.

But instead of reacting, Sirius swallowed down the fire that was itching to erupt inside of him. "Will you go to Pomfrey this time?" he asked, desperately trying to keep control of his voice.

Remus seemed surprised by the question. "Pomfrey? Wha—"

"For anything I can't heal," Sirius explained, making a vague gesture towards Remus's wrists. They'd scarred over pretty bad: new, pinkish gouge marks over older, deeper wounds. Remus had shown him a week ago, mostly to stop Sirius from pestering him about it. "You don't have to show her everything, if you don't want to, but Pomfrey has dittany for, er, those kinds of wounds. I can fix whatever else there is, so long as it's not…"

Dark Magic.

Remus narrowed his eyes. "You're being awfully pragmatic about this."

"Yeah, well," Sirius muttered. "I have to be. We've had this argument before—a few times, actually—so you know where I stand. I just… I guess I want you to know that I'll be here, when you get back, to pick up the pieces. No matter what."

Unshed tears welled in Remus's eyes and he looked away. He managed a throaty laugh. "I, uh. I don't want you to think less of me because I'm going, especially if I know…"

He trailed off and held up his wrists. A few of the scars peeked out from beneath the cuffs of his robes.

"I don't!" Sirius said, startled. "Merlin, Remus, I don't think less of you!" It'd be pretty fucking hypocritical if he did. "You're brave, you idiot. Gryffindor, down to the bones."

Remus shook his head. "You don't have to say that, Siri."

"Shut up. I mean it. I wouldn't lie to you about this. I know what it's like to—" Merlin, how does one go about phrasing this delicately? "—to expect pain. It's terrifying. It's lose-your-mind kind of fear. It eats you alive. I know. I'd give anything to stop it, Remus, but I can't. So, I'm here, no matter what. Until the end."

Remus stared at him, apparently no longer caring that there were tears spilling down his cheeks, tracing the divots of his scars.

"The gods ask too much of you and me, Siri," Remus said, eventually.

Sirius barked a laugh. "Fuck the gods. Didn't Jamie tell you? Some crazy pigeon in Diagon Alley said I'm destined to kill the gods."

"I look forward to it."

Remus flashed him a smile and, Merlin on high, it was brilliant: golden eyes glistening between the recent memories of tears, his scars proud and unforgettable, a testament to the valour buried in his heart.

Gryffindor to the bone, indeed.

OCTOBER 5, 1971

Remus didn't come back for two days.

James, Sirius, and Peter pranked the Slytherins, as planned. They got caught, as predicted by Remus. They served their detentions each night with Filch, scrubbing old trophies without magic, as ordered.

None of that, however, could take Sirius's mind off of Remus Lupin.

Just like last time, Sirius spent every waking moment thinking up all the possible things that could be happening to Remus.

One of the more terrifying scenarios—fuelled almost entirely by a half-formed, insomnia-induced nightmare—involved Remus locked in a cage with two rabid dogs. They lunged at him, each latching onto a wrist, and began gnawing his flesh away, as Remus screamed.

Sirius had no idea where it came from, but apparently, his subconscious couldn't shake the idea that the scars on Remus's wrists were teeth marks.

They couldn't be, though. If they were, Sirius would be able to heal them.

Those scars were from Dark Magic.

Which, naturally, led Sirius down the increasingly short list of suspects who could possibly be performing Dark Magic on Remus. Unfortunately, his list of suspects was entirely reliant on what Sirius knew of Remus's home life, which was to say, very little.

There was Remus's mum, of course. She was sick. Remus could be lying about that, but given that haunted look he got every time he mentioned it, Sirius doubted it. Sick people inevitably did crazy things—(Hell, anyone did, when they were in pain. It's the cornered dog response.)—but Remus's mother was Muggle. She couldn't have performed Dark Magic on him.

There were a few other unlikely suspects Sirius considered, whilst lying awake alone in his bed. Remus had mentioned his grandparents in France on the train, but they were A), in France, and B), his mother's parents and therefore Muggles.

That led Sirius to the most viable known suspect: Remus's father. He had been in Ravenclaw and the name Lupin was vaguely familiar, but Sirius was having trouble disassociating the name with Remus enough to even begin to wonder where he could have heard it mentioned before. It certainly wasn't among the Sacred Twenty-Eight, nor did he think that Remus's father had any sort of blood bias, given that he'd married a Muggle, but pure-blood fanatics were hardly the only ones capable of performing Dark Magic.

Something about it didn't add up. Remus had hugged his father on the platform. Now, Sirius Black was the last person to comment on healthy physical intimacy between family members, but that hug? Remus loved his father. You didn't cling to someone like that unless you loved them, and Remus's father had hugged him right back.

Maybe it had been an act. Merlin knows Sirius's own parents had forced physical affection upon him and Regulus, to keep up appearances at family gatherings, but his parents had never hugged him like that. Like they'd actually meant it. Like they were genuinely concerned that the sun wouldn't rise anymore after they'd said goodbye.

So, how could you love someone with that kind of ferocity and still use Dark Magic on them? Sirius's own parents wouldn't know love like that if it hit them across the face with a Beater's bat.

Maybe, then, it couldn't be his father. Maybe it was someone else who Remus knew, but Merlin, that meant this person had been doing this to Remus for years, given the sheer number of scars Remus had. It also meant that, considering hypothetically that Remus's parents loved and cared about him, they knew someone was hurting their son. There was literally no other way to explain away those scars, especially if they couldn't be healed with ordinary healing spells. If Remus's parents—or, more specifically, his wizard father—knew, then he was complacent with the Dark Magic used against his son, which, in Sirius's mind, was just as damning.

There was no way around it, no way to account for this discrepancy. Remus Lupin's father loved him. Remus was a victim of Dark Magic. The two didn't add up.

Mother of Merlin, Sirius prayed he was missing something big. Being completely fucking wrong was far better than the idea that Remus was being tortured by a father who clearly claimed to love him.

That would be far worse than curses at the hand of a mother who constantly told her son that he was a disgrace and a blood traitor.

That kind of illusion of love… it's inhumane. A cruelty even the Blacks could never think up.

All in all, this constant speculation did little to improve Sirius's mood.

Lily Evans, however, certainly did. Over the past two days, she'd been keeping Sirius company when he wasn't with James and Peter. She'd also stepped in for Remus as the resident expert on Muggle literature.

"He made you read Frankenstein?" she asked, on Tuesday morning, as she and Sirius walked back to class after lunch.

"He didn't make me," Sirius insisted. He spun around on his heel and walked backwards, a pace or two in front of Lily. "He recommended it. I had a choice. And, besides, I liked it. It was… romantic, in a horrifically tragic sort of way. Muggles have a fascinating notion of—"

"Romantic?" Lily repeated. "Frankenstein is not romantic. There's no love story. The monster kills Frankenstein's wife."

"It's not about the stupid wife!" Sirius insists. "It's about the monster! He's in love with humanity, but humanity rejects him because of what he is, and it breaks his heart. He acts out of heartbreak, not because of what he is!"

Lily raises an incredulous eyebrow. "It's a horror story, Sirius. Not a romance."

"Why can't it be both?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"If you like romances so much, you should read one of my books," Lily said, not quite conceding to his point, but clearly not wanting to argue it further. Sirius claimed it as a victory.

"Is it a Muggle book?"

"Yes."

"With murder, mayhem, and maybe a thought provoking inquiry as to the state of the human condition?"

"Of course," she said, with a small smile. "And this time with a structured love story."

"Ooh," Sirius cooed, waggling his eyebrows. "Is it one of those sexy Muggle novels, Evans? I won't judge."

She whacked him with her textbook, barely missing grazing him with her fingers. "No, you prat. But… it's French."

"French?"

"Yes, it's—"

They stopped at a corner, the sound of angry voices echoing from up ahead. Sirius and Lily leaned against the wall and listened.

"Watch where you're going, arsehole!" That was Snape's voice.

Lily gasped. Sirius made to round the corner, but she placed her hand on his chest and shoved him back against the wall, before releasing him. He winced and glared at her. She glared right back and waved a threatening finger in his face, demanding he stay put.

"Look, Snape, I'm not in the mood to start anything right now, so if you could just—"

Remus. That was Remus.

"Weren't you listening, half-breed?" Fucking Malfoy. "He said you're in the way."

"Well, actually, what he said was—"

There was a scuffle. Then a slam.

Then Remus cried out in pain.

Sirius absolutely fucking lost his shit.

Lily immediately slapped a hand over his mouth and wrapped her other arm around his middle to keep him from running in half-cocked.

Every nerve in his body was on fire. He was burning alive. That was the only explanation.

"Fuck, Evans, let go!" he hissed, shaking her hand away from his mouth. She just grabbed his wrist and used her entire weight to pull him backwards.

Through gritted teeth, she managed to keep her voice down. "No, Sirius, please, you need to—"

"Let go! It hurts!" he whispered, as loud as he dared.

Instantly, she sprang back, holding up her hands. She looked him up and down, and he could see the pieces clicking into place in her eyes.

She'd figured out his secret.

Merlin, he didn't have time to think about that right now.

"I know what you are, you disgusting little freak!" Malfoy sneered, from around the corner. "My father sits on the board of governors. A thing like you shouldn't even be allowed inside the gates!"

Remus whimpered.

Sirius rounded the corner just in time to see Malfoy drive his fist into Remus's ribs.

Remus crumpled.

"Malfoy!" Sirius shouted.

Malfoy whirled and drew his wand.

Sirius was faster. He made a slashing movement with his wand. "Sectumsempra!"

A gash appeared, vertically down the left side of Malfoy's face, and Malfoy staggered backwards with a loud cry of pain.

Severus Snape drew his wand and started towards Sirius, but Sirius merely flicked his wrist and Snape went flying. Vaguely, he heard Lily shout Snape's name behind him, but Sirius only had eyes for Malfoy.

Blood gushing from the slash on his face, Malfoy managed to stand, furious silver eyes trained on Sirius.

"Oh, you stupid cunt!" Malfoy yelled.

Sirius dropped his wand and all but launched himself at Malfoy. The force of his weight knocked Malfoy back. Sirius curled his fingers and slammed the palm of his hand into Malfoy's nose once, twice—until he heard it break. Malfoy elbowed his ribs. It hurt, but Sirius did not fucking care. He dug his fingernails into Malfoy's cheeks and throat.

He wasn't aware of anyone shouting except Malfoy, not until two unimaginably strong arms wrapped around Sirius's waist and pulled.

Holy mother of—

Sirius screamed.

There was no pain on heaven or on earth that could ever compete with that.

He fell backwards, using whatever strength he had left in him to roll away from Remus.

His breath came in deep, wheezing rasps and his throat felt raw. His vision swirled a little, until Remus's face came into focus. There were two new gashes across Remus's chin and down his neck. The lines ran parallel to each other and looked deep and painful, but Sirius knew, beyond a doubt, that Malfoy hadn't done those. Remus reached for Sirius, then pulled back, just as fast, but it was enough for Sirius to see the blood dripping down Remus's fingers.

Without warning, Malfoy got to his feet and charged them, his long, white hair a wild and blood-stained curtain around his face.

Sirius wasn't expecting the kick to his ribs, nor the one that followed. He curled in on himself, but Malfoy kept kicking him.

"No!" Remus shouted. He shoved his way between Sirius and Malfoy and stood up to his full height. He grabbed hold of the front of Malfoy's robes, as Malfoy tried to make another go for Sirius. "Christ, Malfoy, STOP IT!"

In a flash, Malfoy had his wand pointed directly at Remus's head.

"Let go of me, you fucking animal!" Malfoy said, his voice remarkably steady.

Remus did not move.

Every bit of magic left in him ignited. Sirius pulled himself to his feet, then stepped around Remus. With a shout, Sirius held out his arm and Malfoy went flying across the hall, until he collided with an armour statue and fell to the ground, unconscious and bleeding.

"SIRIUS BLACK, STAND DOWN THIS INSTANT!"

Sirius and Remus whirled around.

McGonagall and Rattleburn came running down the corridor, both of their wands raised and pointed at him.

Oh, fuck.

He wasn't sure how long he and Remus sat in McGonagall's office.

They hadn't spoken to each other, besides the muttered, "Thanks," when Remus handed Sirius his wand back. He hadn't even realised Remus had picked the stupid thing up. As far as he could tell, Lily made it out of the corridor with Snape before McGonagall and Rattleburn showed up. That was consolation, at least. McGonagall was one thing, but Sirius was pretty sure Lily Evans would have his head for this.

The good news: there was a very slim chance that any of this would actually get back to his mother. Sirius didn't think Malfoy would go around bragging about how he was beat up by a couple of first years any time soon. Even if he told Narcissa—(He'd have to, eventually. She was bloody persistent.)—it wasn't likely that Cissa would go about telling anyone else. It didn't exactly look good that her betrothed was unable to stand against a pariah heir and his half-blood friend.

The bad news? Lily was angry and had more than likely worked out Sirius's secret, McGonagall was furious, and Remus Lupin had yet to actually speak to him.

Sirius kept his general sense of panic at bay by sneaking glances at Remus. Along with the deep cuts along Remus's chin and neck, there was a smaller scratch across the bridge of his nose that already looked like it was healing. Remus kept his hands clasped together on his lap, but Sirius could see blood seeping from beneath each cuff. Whatever happened, Remus's wrists were in bad shape again. Other than that, he seemed relatively fine. As far as Sirius noticed, Remus hadn't been walking hunched over or wheezing like last time, so he figured Remus's ribs were all right.

His own ribs… well, not so much. Normally, he'd prefer to look in the mirror before he performed a healing charm on himself—especially a wandless healing charm—but Sirius didn't particularly want to appear weak in front of McGonagall. He'd need his wits about him. He was in enough trouble, as is.

Sirius sat up as straight as he could manage. With one hand, he prodded his ribcage, just to be certain that nothing was broken or would require another spell. Then, calling his magic to his fingertips, Sirius muttered, "Episkey."

He let out a hiss as the magic worked over his bruises. He sat up straighter and wiggled a little, to make sure there was no lingering damage.

Remus glanced at him from the corner of his eye. (They were amber again, Sirius noted.) "Are you all right?"

Sirius shrugged. "I should be asking you that."

"I'm fine, Siri."

Sirius gave him a weak nod. Merlin, he didn't know what to say.

Thankfully, McGonagall stormed in, a flurry of burgundy robes.

"Black, Lupin," she said, coming to stand behind her desk. "I should like an explanation. Right now."

Remus and Sirius glanced at each other. Then, Remus turned back to McGonagall, the picture of innocence and remorse. "How's—"

"Malfoy will be fine," she snapped. "He will scar, but he will be fine."

Sirius nearly choked on the air in his lungs. "He'll scar?!"

"You used Dark Magic on him, Black," McGonagall said. "Of course it will scar."

"No, it wasn't—" Fuck. "It wasn't Dark Magic!"

"It was a curse."

"Which, strictly speaking, isn't necessarily Dark Magic," Sirius argued. "A curse doesn't have to be Dark. It wasn't an Unforgivable."

"It doesn't matter," McGonagall said, cooly. "Lucius Malfoy will have that scar for the rest of his life because of you, Mr. Back."

"He attacked Remus!" Sirius protested, because Merlin, he had to say something.

McGonagall turned to Remus. "Mr. Lupin, is that true?"

Slowly, Remus nodded. "Malfoy shoved me against the wall."

"And punched you," Sirius supplied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"And punched me."

"And said you didn't deserve to be at Hogwarts because you're a half-blood."

Remus was silent for a moment, before he said, "Yeah."

McGonagall's expression did not soften. "You're saying this was self-defence, Black?"

"Merlin, yes! I was stopping Malfoy from hurting Remus!"

"So you cursed him?"

"Yes."

"And broke his nose?"

"Yes."

"And threw him against a wall?"

Sirius rose to his feet. "He fucking deserved it!"

McGonagall just stared him down. "Mr. Black, I have never tolerated that kind of language and I will not make an exception now. You will—"

"Malfoy started this. I stopped it. End of story."

"You cursed a fellow student! You could have blinded him!"

"None of you lot were going were there to help! And even if you'd seen it, would you have done anything? Malfoy's a fucking prefect and his father practically runs the Ministry. Malfoy has more power at this school than anyone but Dumbledore!"

McGonagall's lips formed a thin, white line. "I could have you expelled for this, Black."

Sirius barked a laugh, because otherwise, he thought his panic might swallow him whole. "Yeah? And how else did you plan on keeping an eye on the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black? You and Dumbledore seem to think my family's full of Dark Magic and—who are we kidding?—it is. So I'm sure ol' Dumbledore would be thrilled to hear you expelled the Black heir and resident fuck-up. You could have turned me into your very own spy. Bet you'll be needing one, in few years or so."

McGonagall's face didn't give anything away. "Was that a threat?"

"It's a fact!"

Remus tugged on the edges of Sirius's robes, careful not to make contact with his flesh. "Sirius, sit down!"

Sirius sat down.

"Professor," Remus said, his voice measured, "no matter the outcome, Sirius's intentions were noble. He just… got a little carried away."

Sirius huffed, but didn't contradict him.

McGonagall regarded them for a long moment. "Lucius Malfoy will be instructed to leave the two of you alone, on the threat of losing his prefect badge and incurring further disciplinary action."

Sirius actually laughed. "Well, that's bloody brilliant!"

"Language, Mr. Black," McGonagall snapped. "I'm not finished. Black, you shall serve one month's detention with me, starting tonight. And you will write me a long, well-researched essay on the damaging effects of curses, specifically those that are not, as you say, strictly Dark Magic. I want three full rolls of parchment, to be turned into me at your final detention."

All right. All things considered, that wasn't too bad.

"And I shall be writing your parents immediately."

All of the blood washed out of Sirius's face. He jumped to his feet, on pure instinct. "What?! No, you can't just—"

Remus rose to his feet as well. "Professor, I really don't think that's necessary—"

McGonagall did not so much as blink. "Given the severity of Mr. Malfoy's injuries, I'm afraid you leave me little choice."

"No, please!" Sirius all but shouted.

Fuck, no. No. No. No. No.

"I-I swear," Sirius stuttered, and fuck! "Malfoy—He won't say a word about where he got that scar. He'll be too bloody embarrassed. It was just a stupid fight! My parents—"

"Your parents will be notified about the situation," McGonagall said, fixing him with a hard stare.

Sirius's hands started to shake. He clenched them into fists, absolutely refusing to allow McGonagall to see the extent of the terror eating him alive from the inside.

"Malfoy's basically my cousin," Sirius said, forcing his voice to sound calm. "You can't tell my parents. Please, Professor. They'll—"

Sirius suddenly clamped his mouth shut.

No.

"They'll what, Mr. Black?"

Hate me. Hurt me, maim me, kill me. Destroy me completely, then throw me away.

Sirius felt the tears welling in his eyes, and he fought them back with everything he had left in him. He did not open his mouth.

Remus glanced desperately between him and McGonagall. "Sirius can serve a longer detention, Professor," Remus suggested."With Filch, even. Or shovelling out the hippogryph pens with Hagrid. Or—"

Sirius would do anything.

"I'm afraid the protocol for disciplining such actions is quite clear. Your parents will be notified, Mr. Black. That'll be the end of it. Am I understood?"

Every ounce of hope seeped out of him. Sirius managed weak nod.

"Good," McGonagall said, taking absolutely no notice of the virtual death sentence she'd placed on his head. "Mr. Lupin, you're excused. Black, your detention may as well start now."

Remus did not move for a long moment. Instead, he just stared at Sirius, trying to catch his eye, but Sirius refused to move. If he did, he'd break down in tears. Or run screaming through the halls and end up jumping off the Astronomy Tower.

There was no escaping this. Sirius Black was fucked.