Disclaimer: As usual, none of the characters, settings etc. etc. etc. belong to me.

A/N: After having trouble with the last couple of chapters, this one fairly flew off the keyboard. It brings us right up the events of Just Good Friends – this was originally intended as a prequel but I'm going to combine the two and take that one down; I think I can do a better version now.

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Sirius was slumped grouchily in a chair by the fire. What had started out as a fairly promising day was fast deteriorating. He'd had to endure James and Lily giggling together through Potions while Snivellus muttered snide remarks from his other side. Then that. . . that debacle of a Defence Against the Dark Arts Class, where even those who didn't know about Remus looked at him askance for having a werewolf as a Patronus. Then he'd managed to upset Remus by bringing up the whole travelling thing; how could something that had seemed like such a good idea cause so much trouble? Then the explanation from Tabblesworth; Remus had seemed satisfied with it, but as far as he was concerned it opened up a whole new can of Flobberworms, and his attempt to defuse it by joking had certainly backfired.

Not only had he managed to make Remus angry with him, but the faint idea that had lodged in Sirius' mind that summer and grown steadily ever since had been thoroughly squashed by his reaction to the jokes. But then, he thought, frowning to himself, Remus had returned the teasing moments later. What the hell was he supposed to think? The trouble was that every explanation he thought of seemed equally possible.

Okay, Padfoot, you're supposed to be clever. Think it through logically.

Option one. Remus had taken Tabby's comments seriously, and was disgusted by the very thought. Certainly most people's reactions. And it would explain his harsh tone; I will hex you. I'm not joking. Not like Remus to be so blunt; he must have touched a nerve.

Option two. He'd taken the comments as Tabby had no doubt meant them. Throwaway, background information. After all, he'd seemed satisfied with the explanation to their embarrassing little problem, and the memory thing did seem to hold true. And then, the snappy response to the teasing became just proper Marauder behaviour; after all, he'd taken the opportunity to tease back, and what teenage boy wouldn't have been a bit touchy about the suggestion Sirius had been making, joking though it was? Plus, it was full moon this evening, so he was bound to be a bit jumpy. The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed.

Option three. He wasn't sure he dared articulate option three, even in the safety of his own head. But what if. . . What if the reason Remus had been so unsettled by the implications of Tabby's little speech was exactly the same reason that Sirius had been? What then? And how the hell was he supposed to tell which it was?

There was a shrill burst of laughter behind him and he flinched, squirming deeper into his chair until the top of his head could barely be seen over it. Another example of how great his day was turning out. To his great displeasure, he had discovered at the beginning of the year that this particular free period was shared by three sixth year girls. And it didn't seem to matter where he went or what he was doing, they always seemed to be there too. He'd dated one of them, back in fourth year. He thought her name was Helen. Though to be fair, she seemed to be the least keen on following him around. He seemed to recall he might have cheated on her. . .

The portrait door swung open and salvation stepped through. Remus didn't like to be mean to anyone, but if Sirius was really desperate he could usually persuade him to dispel the giggling girls with a contemptuous look and sarcastic put-down. Not to mention that they never seemed so interested in following him when he was in Remus' company. Poor Moony; continually under-appreciated. Sirius couldn't for the life of him see why girls were so uninterested in him; he was much more considerate and approachable than either him or James, after all, and not at all bad looking, even if a little on the skinny side.

One of the girls laughed again, and he saw Remus wince. There was the familiar creasing around his eyes that said he was in the grips of a pre-moon headache.

"Moony," he said by way of greeting, not bothering to keep his great relief from his voice. "Upstairs?" he suggested, jerking slightly his head to indicate the girls. Remus nodded gratefully, and Sirius scooped up his bag. He was almost sure he heard one of the girls sigh in disappointment as they headed up the boys' stairs, and scowled.

"Ugh." Remus threw himself onto his bed. "Even if we hadn't arranged to take turns I think I would have had to skip that lesson. I feel terrible."

"Can I get you anything?"

"I should have some pain-relief potion in my trunk. . ." Sirius fished it out for him; thankfully it took effect very quickly. A minute or so after swallowing it, Remus gave a sigh of relief and sat up again. "If I ever meet the person who invented that stuff, I'm going to fall at their feet and worship them. Do you want to go back down and revel in your fan club's attentions, or are you not in the mood today?"

Sirius snorted. "Am I ever?"

"Well, I do recall one time in fourth year. . ."

"Moony!" He glared at his friend, who was quite plainly sniggering at him. "So, any work to do?"

"Only reading, so far. I'll leave that for tomorrow; if I end up in the hospital wing I'll need something to occupy me. If I do you'll bring my book up for me?"

"Course." He tried to think of something else to say, but his usual conversational flair seemed to have deserted him. He looked at Remus and all he could think of was his angry tone as he threatened to hex him. Had he really meant it? He wasn't sure he wanted to bring the subject up again to find out.

"You all right, Padfoot?" Evidently he'd been quiet too long.

"Yeah, I guess." He paused again, and decided that he just had to get it out of his system. "Look, that stuff I was saying, I'm sorry, all right? I was only messing around, but if it bothers you, just tell me and I'll drop it."

"Really?" Remus sounded surprised, and no wonder. Since when did Sirius Black willingly give up the chance of teasing someone, best friend or not? Even James' obsession with Lily was deemed fair game.

"Well, yeah, you know. You're right; if someone other than Prongs and Wormtail overhears that stuff we could both end up in a bit of a mess."

Remus gave him an odd smile. Usually it meant he was trying not to laugh; this time there was a funny look in his eyes and it seemed more like he was having trouble smiling at all. "It'd sort out your fan club, though."

"Oh, now there's an idea!" he exclaimed, an arrested grin settling on his face. "Can you imagine the looks on their faces?"

"I imagine half the girls in school would hurl themselves off the Astronomy Tower at the thought," replied Remus dryly.

"Only half? Moony, you have such a low opinion of me."

"Well, you have far too high an opinion of yourself, so it averages out."

"Ouch! Who trod on your tail?"

"Bit early for that yet, but I'm sure you'll manage it later, you usually do."

"Do I really?"

"Well, it's kind of hard to tell, I suppose it could be Prongs. But then he doesn't tend to get over-excited like you do. . ."

"Hey!" Sirius was painfully aware that he was coming off worst in this round of banter. "I bet James doesn't have to put up with this from Lily every month," he grumbled.

"Ooh, time of the month jokes again. You really are struggling, aren't you, Padfoot?"

He opened his mouth for a response only to find that he didn't have one, and snapped it shut again, frowning. Remus was looking at him expectantly, the amused smirk and raised eyebrow back again, and he found the capacity for thought seeping away. "I. . . You. . . Dammit! I yield. You win. The world has clearly gone mad."

Remus' smirk grew into a fully-fledged grin. Sirius shrugged helplessly, beginning to grin himself, and somehow the second their eyes met they just set each other off into peals of laughter. Remus collapsed onto the bed and Sirius leant on the bedpost until even that couldn't hold him up and he rolled onto the floor on his back.

"Oh, God, I've got a stitch," he groaned, clutching his side and rolling over. He hauled himself back up and suddenly found himself face to face with Remus, who had apparently leant over the side of the bed to check he was okay. They both froze, inches apart. Remus' face still shone with laughter, his eyes sparkling. Sirius knew that expression better than any other – and he knew all of Remus' expressions much better than he should – because that was the look that had set him down this path in the first place.

It had been that summer. They'd been at James' parents, as usual, for the last two weeks, and had taken a day to go to the beach. He couldn't even remember now what they'd been laughing at, but Remus he remembered clearly because he had laughed as hard as any of them, not his usual quiet chuckle or dry snigger, but with the careless abandon that came so naturally to the rest of them and so rarely to him. Sirius had stopped to watch, amused to see his so-reserved friend collapsed in hysterics on the warm sand, grains of it clinging to his cheeks and bare arms and tears creeping from the corners of his eyes. And eventually they had all recovered, and Remus had sat up, the traces of laughter still shining in his face and Sirius had felt like someone had punched him in the stomach. Because for no explicable reason that he could think of, he suddenly wanted to grab Remus and kiss him. Remus. His friend. His male friend.

Terrified that the others would somehow be able to see the unfamiliar territory his thoughts were in, he had transformed into Padfoot and set off, the rest of them chasing him across the beach, eventually leading them into the sea itself. He'd changed back and they'd had a fast, furious water fight – Peter lost – and he thought that he'd shaken the incident away. But the entire journey home, the joy of the day still sparkled in Remus' face and Sirius had barely been able to look at him and at the same time barely able to look away.

He'd tried to put it down to heatstroke, to begin with, but there had been no getting away from it. After that day, there were more and more occasions where he looked at his friend and saw him differently, and then they were back at Hogwarts and he watched the giggling packs of girls and found them even less appealing than he had in sixth year, when the various traumas they had all been going through had made such frivolity seem pointless in general and plain irritating when aimed at him.

"Sirius?" said Remus, uncertainly.

He couldn't quite seem to move, though the tiny corner of his brain that still functioned screamed at him that he should not be this close to Remus; he should not be staring into his friend's eyes and noticing that there were tiny flecks of grey among the brown, that the laughter hadn't completely left them but that there were traces of puzzlement and. . . something else?. . . there as well. It would be so easy to close that tiny gap. . . He swayed forward slightly as if he would, and something flickered in Remus' eyes. . .

And his nerve broke and he fairly threw himself backwards. Remus leaned back onto the bed as if nothing had happened, but for a split second Sirius was sure he looked. . . disappointed? He had to be imagining it.

"I think I'm going mad," he said, his voice faint even in his own ears.

"Padfoot?"

"I. . . Sorry, Moony, I. . . I have to go."

He knew he hadn't imagined the hurt look on Remus' face as he hurried past him and back out the door. He got most of the way down the stairs before he heard voices from the common room and remembered the girls. He didn't think he could face them right now, but he clearly couldn't trust himself to be alone with Remus, and now he'd upset him again. He trudged slowly back up the stairs, and slid to the floor against the closed door, his head in his hands.

Padfoot, you are a bloody mess, he told himself.

It was much later, when he, James and Peter were sniping at each other under the Invisibility Cloak on their way down to the Whomping Willow that another thought hit him, like a physical blow, and he stopped so abruptly that both James and Peter fell over him with hastily swallowed oaths.

Remus hadn't moved. Sirius had frozen there for God only knew how many horribly long seconds, staring at Remus from inches away, almost kissed him, and Remus hadn't pulled away.

"I'm a bloody idiot," he said, loudly. Peter and James swore at him again in fierce whispers, agreeing in no uncertain terms and telling him the shut the hell up and get moving before they were caught.