AN: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed! I checked for reviews this morning and found these and they really inspired me to get going and not leave you hanging again!

A note to DeadlyHuggles: I completely agree about Casting Moonshadows. Too bad it hasn't been updated in a while, I was getting addicted to it! Most of the angsty and long Marauder stories I have read on here haven't been updated in a while, sadly. I will check out Against the Moon, however, it sounds like a good- though long :)- read. And thank you for the praise! I will involve the diary in later chapters. ;)

Disclaimer: Do I need to remind you after 10 chapters that I don't own Harry Potter? You know, I wonder if you could put a disclaimer in the summary and then you wouldn't have to put one every chapter.

Enjoy and please review! XD

Remus stared at Sirius' reply. His friend seemed to have made a point in attempting to discard his Copperplate habits, instead scrawling the letter in an untidy hand.

Dear Moony,

Sorry that I didn't send you a Christmas gift. I kind of forgot.

Remus smiled slightly, but he couldn't help thinking that Sirius never forgot about those things. He could forget to attend detention and forget what day it was and forget his broom on the Quidditch pitch but never before had he forgotten about his friends. Of course, the missing of the actual present didn't bother Remus; it was more of the fact that Sirius had forgotten Christmas gifts, of all things. What would make him forget to get a present for his friends? And had Sirius ever openly admitted that he had forgotten something before creating a fantastic- though admittedly unbelievable- story?

My family is driving me crazy but I try to stay out of the way, and that works, so I'm good. Shame that there's a Christmas party, though. I have to see Bella, and she's madder that the rest of them put together, Rem.

And what's this DIARY for? Moony, diaries are for teenage GIRLS who sulk in their MISERY all day LONG. Do you mind if I give it to Evans? Then she can write about Prongs and get over that bloody denial. Nah, I'm just joking. I'll keep this diary-thing, but I won't write in it, Rem. Diaries aren't punk rock.

Remus had gotten the diary in hopes that Sirius would warm up to it and use writing as a way to vent his anger at his family, which seemed unusually high this year, but no such luck- for now. Instead he was…claiming it wasn't punk rock. Whatever "punk rock" is, Remus thought wryly.

Anyway, I've got to go now. Sadly I don't think I'll be able to go to James'. I hope the moon didn't hurt you too much.

Love, Padfoot

Remus smiled softly and pulled a bottle of ink and piece of parchment toward him.

He was sitting in his room, at his desk, and Remus could hear the sounds of his mother cooking downstairs. His father was, no doubt, outside somewhere. He had taken a habit of avoiding Remus as much as possible.

Dear Padfoot, he began to write.

It's fine- I don't need a gift. Too bad that you couldn't go to the Potters', though. Sorry about your cousin and Christmas party.

Fine, Pads, if you say so. The journal- NOT diary- was just an idea. Lily would probably jinx your head off if you gave it to her, though, so don't do that. I doubt it would help James in his conquest.

The moon was as good as expected without the Marauders. Tell me how the party goes?

Love, Moony

oOo

Sirius,

It's been a week since I sent my last letter. You haven't replied. Are you okay? Did I say something? Please write back, Pads.

Remus

oOo

Hey, mate, what's happening? You haven't replied to any of my letters since Christmas. Are you okay? Write back! James

oOo

Sirius, answer my letters, please! I'm worried about you. What did they do to you?

Love, Remus

oOo

When his friend approached him, head down, figure slouched and slightly limping, Remus wrapped his arms around him. "Merlin, Sirius, I thought you were dead!"

Then he looked at his friend's face and his words died.

Sirius' face was pale, paler than normal, with dark circles around his eyes. His hair was unkempt, lips dry and cracked, a bruise on his cheek. He looked exhausted.

"What happened?" Remus lifted his hand, brushing it softly against Sirius' bruise. Heart thudding, he thought of his friend's parents.

"I fell," Sirius mumbled, voice dry and tired.

"Bloody Hell, mate! What happened to you?" James yelled, running across the platform and barreling into Sirius, tearing him from Remus and coming to a stop with his hands on his shoulders, peering avidly at Sirius' face.

"James, get off of me," Sirius huffed, pushing him away. "And I fell. Down the stairs. Hit my face."

No. No, you didn't, Remus thought.

Peter, always the observant one, piped up, "And you have a cut on your throat. I don't think falls give you cuts like that, Padfoot."

Remus almost choked on the wave of pure panic that flooded his werewolf senses. Sirius was doing nothing but standing there, shying away from his friends, but the terror wafting from him was unmistakable.

The wolf he worked constantly to keep at bay rose with a low growl, mind overcoming Remus'. Blood kill hurt kill kill kill--

But Remus' own fierce protection rose above his counterpart's thirst for blood. Protect kill them protect--

"Moony! Stop growling!"

He blinked and pulled himself above the wolf's thoughts, vision that had previously gone blurry restoring.

His eyes fixed on the cut, standing out sharply against the pale skin.

Remus leaped, crashing Sirius into the wall behind him, hands at the teenager's shoulders as he peered closely at the cut. It had done by a knife, no doubt. Any other means of torture could not leave a line so thin.

"Remus, get off!" Sirius' voice, slightly hysterical, brought him back to reality once more and he moved to step back.

He touched the scar with a finger, the scar raised and rough next to the smooth skin.

"Don't touch me!" And his friend pushed him off, sinking into a huddle that Remus recognized as a sort of warped submission. Remus, staggering backwards, caught his balance and stood, panting slightly, trying to avoid the other Marauders' looks of shock and reproach.

"Sorry," he whispered. "It was the wolf."

"I'm more concerned about the gash on his throat." James' voice sounded breathless.

"You great pricks! What did you do this time?"

Surprisingly, James was the one to reply to Lily Evans' shout as she marched over. "Look, Evans, we don't need more people here, so just go and stop meddling."

Remus leaned down next to Sirius. "Hey, Pads. I'm sorry."

Grey eyes found him. "'S fine," he croaked out. "Rem…I'm really tired."

"Okay. You need to get up now, Pads. We don't want to miss the Hogwarts Express."

A shaky, pale hand reached up and grasped the sleeve of Remus' cloak. "Don't go, Moony," he mumbled.

Remus' heart gave a fierce tug. "I won't," he said, and pulled Sirius off off of the ground, wrapping an arm around the other's waist so he wouldn't fall.

Lily hexed James, who promptly stopped yelling at her and began clutching his head, looking horrified. She shot Remus a small smile, to which he offered an apologetic grimace and to which Sirius responded to by flipped her the bird.

"C'mon, Sirius," Remus urged, but the teenager's breathing was slowing.

James was still staring at the retreating Lily. "How did you get a smile and I didn't?"

"To be fair, mate, you were yelling at her," Peter reasoned.

"Dammit, she'll never look at me again!"

"James, shut up and help me get Sirius onto the train!"

"Sorry, Moony," he huffed, taking the Animagus' trunk in one hand and his in the other.

When the Marauders finally sat down on the train, Sirius immediately curled up in the seat closest to the window and closed his eyes. Remus opened his book, but he was stealing glances at Sirius more than reading. Peter was subject to James' Transfiguration practice, as he ended up with different colored eyebrows and hair as well as a very long, hook-like nose and sallow face.

"Hey, don't make me look like Snivellus! Take it off! Take it off?"

Sirius opened his eyes and curled more into himself with a soft groan.

Remus rested a hand on his forehead, surprised when Sirius was too sick to pull away. "You're burning up."

Sirius muttered something, but barely any noise reached Remus' ears.

"Sirius, who did this to you?" He moved closer and put an arm around the shaking teenager's shoulders.

"Dark," he mumbled. "Monsters, Rem, monsters…waitin' for me."

"What was dark?" Remus whispered.

"Hurt. Locked…dark…" And then he fell silent, breathing evening out, a fire still burning in his forehead.

"Is he okay?"

Remus sighed, biting his lip. "No, James, he's really not. His parents- I'm guessing- hurt him and locked him somewhere dark where there may or may not have been monsters."

"Parents?" James said weakly.

"What do you mean?" Peter squeaked.

"I'm guessing- and it's probably accurate- that Sirius is being abused."