Remus will not look at him. Swathed in bandages, lying in the hospital wing, he stares at the wall, not moving, not blinking. Sirius has been sitting beside him all day, not daring to speak or to touch him. "Sorry" does not seem like enough after what he has done.
He feels empty inside. Sirius Black - all self-confidence, charm, good looks, and wicked sense of humour - but none of that means anything if Remus won't look at
The Dementors drank deeply of Sirius's despair. They had little need to enhance this memory.
How could he have been so thick? He had thought it would be funny at the time - funny to send Snivellus off to the Shrieking Shack. He had thought he would teach the greasy git a lesson about poking his oversized nose where it's not wanted, asking questions about Remus that are none of his bloody business. He hadn't thought -
But that's just it, you shite, he tells himself. You never think. You just do whatever you fucking please, because who cares who gets hurt, so long as it amuses you?
Only this time, it had backfired in such a spectacular way. All he had wanted was for Snivellus to get the fright of his life and maybe wet himself. Because that would have been funny.
But James had seen the danger of it where Sirius had not, and had intervened, though not before Remus, violent and bestial, had caught a whiff of the sour-faced Slytherin's inordinately strong body odor.
There had been a scene of panic in the passage beneath the Whomping Willow. Snape had made it halfway to the Shrieking Shack before James and Peter and Sirius had caught up with him. James had shouted for him to stop just as a howl echoed down the narrow tunnel. He had spun Snape around and half-dragged him out of the hole, running flat out, using all the muscle and speed he had gained in endless Quidditch practices to save the ungrateful bastard's neck. They had barely made it out in time, past the protective circle of the tree's violent branches.
Peter had squeaked in terror and transformed the instant he heard heavy paws pounding down the passageway toward them, and Sirius himself had been close enough to see the beast's vicious, bloodshot eyes before he had transformed and thrown himself into the fray.
As Padfoot, he had leapt at the wolf, using the whole weight of his body to hold it back, buying James and Snape a few precious seconds to escape. The wolf did not recognise him. The strong scent of human in its territory had overwhelmed everything but the instinct to hunt and kill.
Padfoot had fought it desperately, growling and barking and trying to force it back into the confines of the house, but the wolf would not go. Instead, it charged the huge black dog, tumbling them both snout over tail. Padfoot had landed on his back, throat exposed in forced submission.
Teeth had closed beneath his jaw, and even in his canine form he had known that this was not a fight he could win, or even survive. He therefore took the only option left to him, and struggled out from under the larger, stronger animal, summoned all the speed and strength he had, and fled.
The Whomping Willow had been most displeased by so many disturbances. It expressed this displeasure by walloping the big dog soundly in the ribs as he exited the tunnel. It continued to flail wildly, thwarting the wolf's attempts at pursuit. In the passage, the beast howled, snarled, and threw its body against the earthen walls in frustration.
The dog had limped halfway back to the castle before reverting to human form.
James had been sitting on the castle steps, looking stunned.
"Snivellus has gone to Dumbledore," he said, face white. "Sirius, how could you?! He could have been killed! We would have been responsible!"
"I thought it would be funny -" Sirius had said weakly, rubbing his bruised ribs.
James shook his head in disbelief. "Funny! You thought it would be funny? And did you suppose Remus would find it amusing as well?"
Sirius had winced, and not from pain.
"I'm going to go see Dumbledore," James said shortly. "See what Snivellus has told him."
He turned and walked quickly up the steps, not looking to see if Sirius followed.
Sirius had walked back to the Gryffindor common room by himself, dragging his feet through the echoing corridors. All that night he had sat, staring into the fire. Eventually, James had returned and sat down opposite him, but he did not speak.
About dawn, Peter had come back to the tower, looking dirty and disheveled. He was surprised to find his friends still awake.
"Are you all right, Pete?" James had asked, giving Sirius a look that said, If Peter's been hurt, that's your fault as well.
"Yeah, I'm okay," Peter had replied, but he looked nervous as if there was more he was reluctant to add.
"Out with it," Sirius growled at him.
"I saw - on my way back -" he began nervously, then said in a rush, "Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore were down at the Whomping Willow getting Remus out. He looked bad."
Sirius could guess just how bad he had looked by how wide Peter's eyes were. In three seconds, he was on his feet and out through the portrait hole, walking as quickly as he could toward the hospital wing, his heart pounding.
Madam Pomfrey would not let him in at first. She was not done dressing Remus's wounds, and she did not like an audience. At last, she told him he could come in if he would sit quietly and not disturb the patient.
As soon as he had seen Remus for himself, Sirius felt something inside him crumble. His arms and legs - even his face - were swathed in bandages which were more red than white. He had never seen Remus look so bad after a full moon. Never.
I did this, he had reminded himself bitterly. Me.
And he knew at once that at least part of his punishment was to be that he must tell Remus the whole truth of it. How it had been his fault, how he had been stupid, how sorry he was.
What will he say? he had wondered over and over again all through that morning of waiting.
And now he has found out.
Nothing.
Bloodshot brown eyes stare resolutely at the wall as Remus refuses to even acknowledge Sirius's presence.
All day, Sirius sits beside him, the silence growing between them. The only place that is not silent is inside Sirius's head where his own voice is shouting at him.
You've ruined everything. He loved you, and you've broken his trust, and now he's never, ever going to forgive you. Forget lovers; you won't even be friends anymore.
Toward evening, Sirius falls into an uneasy doze. When he awakens in the darkness, he is alone. The bed before him is empty and neatly made. They have come to take Remus back to Gryffindor tower, and they have not even bothered to wake him.
Sirius stumbles numbly back to the common room, but when he reaches the stairway to the boys' dormitory, James bars his way.
"Leave him alone, Sirius," he says softly.
"I wasn't -" Sirius begins.
"He doesn't want to see you. You'll just have to make do on the sofa for a bit."
Sirius nods dumbly and collapses into a chair. The roaring fire in the hearth is suddenly blurred by tears which he roughly dashes away with the back of his hand. He does not deserve to feel sorry for himself.
Blacks don't cry, he reminds himself fiercely.
After a while, he sleeps out of pure exhaustion.
He sleeps in the common room three nights running, before James deems it appropriate for him to even set foot in the dormitory again. Remus still will not speak to him or look at him except for the occasional reproachful glance.
It is the worst month of Sirius's young life, so far as he can recall. James is civil, but speaks to him no more than civility demands. He and Remus speak softly to one another, as if James were Remus's protector. Sirius tries to squash his anger and jealousy at James for usurping his place, knowing it is born out of frustration and the knowledge that he deserves this. Peter, as usual, follows James's lead.
Sirius is exiled and out of favour. Conversations stop when he enters the room. At meals, he sits several places down from his friends. In classes, he is forced to partner with other classmates on projects - usually girls who look at him with big, soft doe eyes and find any excuse they can to touch him, which he hates.
He feels that surely losing Remus is bad enough without losing James and Peter as well. Is the thing he has done really terrible enough for him to deserve this?
A few days after being allowed back into the dorm, he rounds a corner to discover Remus, pale and tight-faced, speaking to Snape, apologising stiffly to him for what had happened.
Apologising! As if it's his fault! That should be me, Sirius realises. The second part of my punishment should be having to apologise to Snivellus. Then maybe Remus will speak to me again. It makes him feel funny inside to think that Remus will speak to Snape and not to him.
But when Snape sneers at Remus and spits out, "Get away from me, freak," Sirius cannot make himself do it.
You got better than you deserve, you little shite, Sirius thinks fiercely. James saved you. Remus bloody apologised! It's not bloody fair!
A Dementor reached between the bars and touched Sirius lightly on the forehead.
In his memory, Snape suddenly reaches out and takes Remus's face between his hands, pulling him close for a kiss. Remus holds still, closing his eyes. As they part, he breathes the name "Severus" into the air.
On his narrow Azkaban bunk, Sirius curled into a fetal position, eyes shut tight.
For weeks, Sirius tries everything he can think of to get back in Remus's good graces. He anticipates Remus's needs, and goes to fetch him things before he can ask, or before he gets up to get them himself. He is a model of good behaviour. He serves the detention Dumbledore assigns him for endangering Snape without complaint. He even tidies up his part of the bedroom - an occurrence previously unknown, except when they packed to go home for the summer. He employs the full range of his not-inconsiderable charm.
Above all, he looks and acts the soul of contrition. In those weeks, he never says anything to Remus but "I'm sorry," which he says a lot. Remus never responds, nor even looks at him when he says it.
At last, in the days before the next full moon, it becomes clear that Remus has had enough of this behaviour. One afternoon, he rounds on Sirius in a deserted corridor.
"Will you stop bloody following me around looking like a kicked puppy?" he growls. "I'm so fucking tired of hearing your 'sorrys'! You're like a bloody broken record!"
Sirius is pretty sure Remus is right that he's broken the record for being sorry, but this is clearly not enough to satisfy the other boy.
"Moony -"
"No, Sirius. I don't want to hear it. Just - leave me alone," and he turns on his heel and storms away.
Sirius feels hopeless. There is nothing left he can think of to do.
No. That cannot be. He is Sirius bloody Black, for Merlin's sake! When he wants something, he gets it, and that has to include Remus's forgiveness. It is just a question of how.