A/N:
This is the first of three chapters about Remus and Sirius. The first is set soon after Sirius is sent to Azkaban, the second will be soon after he escapes, and the third will be soon after he is killed. In this chapter, Remus and Sirius think about each other and their friendship.
I love concrit, so tell me what you think, please. I'm always looking to improve.
insert standard disclaimer here
I originally posted this on LJ.

Sirius

The cell was cold and damp, and the thin man had to huddle in the corner, his arms wrapped around himself, to keep from shivering. Despite his best efforts, however, Sirius shuddered violently each time the dementor guards glided past. Anyone who saw the way he jerked away from their dark hoods and rotted, rasping breaths would assume that Sirius Black was simply another criminal finally beginning to see the horror of his crimes. This, of course, was untrue, but Sirius's innocence did not prevent the dementors from pulling out the other terrible times in his life- the first time he had argued with his mother about her support of anti-Muggle acts and had seen true hatred etched across her face, the time he had run away from home when he was fourteen and one of his aunts had punished him with nearly a minute of the Cruciatus Curse… Yet all of these memories paled in comparison to Sirius's knowledge that he had caused the deaths of two of his best friends.

"I'm a coward," he whispered to himself, late at night. "If I hadn't been so afraid of death, I would still be the Secret-Keeper. James and Lily would still be alive." The thought alone would be enough to drive a man insane, but, coupled with his desire for vengeance, it was enough to keep Sirius from becoming just that.

Day after day, he sat in the cell. Sometimes he was a man, and sometimes a dog. When he was Padfoot, he considered escaping, but he knew that he would not be free without Peter Pettigrew. When he was Sirius, he considered dying, but life in a box was better than no life at all.

Night after night, he sat in the cell. He looked up to the single small sliver of window and stared at the sky. When the moon grew big and full, Sirius sometimes transformed into the large black dog and howled until he felt his lungs would burst. Sometimes he imagined he could hear the howl returned by the high, wailing call of a wolf, but that was just wishful thinking. Sirius had been allowed to send one owl since his arrival to Azkaban, and Remus had never replied.

"Of course he doesn't believe me," Sirius had thought. "There's no evidence that I'm telling the truth, it's all hidden in a filthy little rat." Still, the fact that Remus thought that Sirius had helped to murder James and Lily was almost worse than being trapped in Azkaban while Peter roamed alive and free.

"You always lusted after power, Wormtail," Sirius said to the silent darkness. He laughed a cold, sad laugh. "I suppose we just weren't powerful enough." Sirius wished he still had power: power to find Peter, power to escape, to be free, power to make Remus write him back… He'd explained as best as he could the situation, and Remus must have seen him as nothing more than a cold-blooded murderer. Sirius would have given any power he had left to make this not so. If Remus- Remus Lupin, his best friend, practically his family- couldn't believe him, no one could.

For the first time since he had gone into the Wizard prison, Sirius leaned his head against the wall and let the tears roll down his face.

Remus

Every day, Remus wondered if he would ever receive an owl from his best friend. Obviously Sirius did not have much in Azkaban, but Lupin thought that he must be allowed to send mail at least once. And yet, each day, when owls came bringing mail or the news, there was no word from Sirius Black. He had no idea that it wasn't that Black wasn't sending mail, but that it wasn't reaching Lupin. There was no way that Ministry of Magic officials could really let owls be sent by the most notorious Death Eater they had captured. Better to pretend and keep him cooperating.

Remus looked out the window. To the untrained eye, the moon seemed to be full, but Remus knew better. He wasn't covered with fur, though he was beginning to feel restless. He figured that "his time of the month," as Sirius always called it in an attempt to get a laugh (it usually worked), was about two days away.

He walked outside and breathed in deeply. The night air was crisp, and he considered going back inside for a cloak, but instead began walking towards a nearby forest. It was always a good place to think. In the woods, Remus sat down on a large, flat rock. This particular part of the woods had trees so large that the sky was completely blocked out. It reminded him of the Forbidden Forest. It reminded him of the time that he and Sirius snuck into the Forbidden Forest. When they returned to the Gryffindor Tower a few hours later, James asked what there was to smile about in a dark, creepy forest. This made Sirius laugh and Remus blush, and they both went quickly to their dormitory without answering. Remus smiled in spite of himself.

Then he remembered that, because of Sirius, James would never ask a question with that knowing smirk on his face again, and he wondered why he was so upset about Sirius not writing. He didn't want Sirius to write. He never wanted to hear from his friend again.

Remus made a face. He didn't want to think about what Sirius had done; he wanted to remember him as the clever, laughing boy who always knew exactly what to do to make Remus smile. But that boy was gone.