part five

The clock in the seventh-year Gryffindor boys' dormitory had not been so lucky as to live beyond their fifth year, but were it still with them, Sirius was sure it would confirm his suspicions that it must be nearing seven-thirty. At least, and that was if time hadn't stopped completely, which he was beginning to suspect it may have.

'How long does it take, anyway?'

James was currently completing what Sirius guessed was somewhere around his hundred and fifth lap of the room. The incessant pacing was beginning to make Sirius twitch.

'Dunno,' Peter said, looking up from where he was, lying on his bed and flicking through one of Remus' books.

Sirius, sitting at the end of his own bed, tried not to let the air of impatience get to him, but it was difficult. Remus had been gone for ages, and they all were dying to hear what he'd have to say on his return from Dumbledore's office. James was so sure Greyback would be sent straight to Azkaban, but after what Remus had said during the Christmas holidays, Sirius had a bad feeling.

Sick of waiting, he went to his trunk and fished out his pyjamas, intending to head to the bathroom for a shower. It was then that Remus returned.

'So,' James started.

'I don't want to talk about it,' Remus said, tone firm, as he walked past James, sat heavily on his bed and began to remove his shoes.

'Oh, come on.' James held his hands out in a show of peace. 'At least tell us the important stuff.'

He got no response.

'Greyback?'

Remus sighed, though he didn't look at James. 'Azkaban.'

'Ha! I told you.'

'It was nothing to do with me.'

'Are you kidding?! Remus, if—'

'No. The only reason is because ... –' Remus struggled to compose himself '– because to the Ministry he's a dark creature with connections to Voldemort, nothing more. So yes, he's in Azkaban, for now, and as far as anyone is concerned I was just the bait, never mind the Unforgivable. But I don't want to talk about it, like I said. I'm going for a shower.'

Remus snatched up his things and made for the door only to stop when he came face to face with Sirius.

'I was just heading there,' Sirius said.

Remus' posture visibly tensed. 'Right,' he said, and passed Sirius without another glance.

* * *

Sirius readied himself slowly, taking the time to think as he listened to all the small sounds Remus made as he undressed and stepped beneath the spray of the shower. Removing his clothes, he concentrated on the sound of the water as it coursed over Remus' body, then heavy on the tiles and away down the drain.

Then, naked and with his hands on the taps, Sirius closed his eyes, took a deep breath and twisted them. The water that hit him first was far more shockingly cold than he expected, but he stayed beneath the flow, enduring the teeth-chattering chill and trying to banish from his mind the thought of what Remus must look like now and only three stalls away.

He couldn't. As the water warmed, so did he, and though he felt traitorous, he liked the feel of his hands on his body as he held Remus in his mind.

He couldn't bring himself to do it while Remus was essentially there with him in the room, and so he listened through the rush of water for the sound of the other shower shutting off, and eventually the click of the door as Remus left. Alone, he pushed the shame to the back of his mind.

* * *

'I'm insane.' James, who was sprawled on his stomach amid a mess of papers on their dormitory floor, was perfectly serious in his declaration. 'Honestly, actually, completely insane. It's the only explanation.'

'It's what I've been saying all these years, isn't it?' Sirius said around a mouthful of custard tart, similarly spread out on his bed, only minus the school work. Instead he was studying the pages of a Muggle motorcycle trading magazine, trying – and mostly failing – not to get the pages sticky.

'Well, you should have told me a bit louder when I decided to do Ancient bloody Runes at N.E.W.T level. Look at this,' James said, and held up a page. 'It's gibberish. The very essence of gobbledygook.'

Sirius laughed. 'Even more so to me, mate. Ask Remus. He's good at that sort of thing, isn't he?'

'Yeah,' James said, and sighed. 'I s'pose it can wait, though. I don't really want to nag him the day before full moon.'

Sirius had to pause and think at that. 'Full moon is tonight?'

'Yeah. It is the twenty-second, isn't it? Wait, Saturday was definitely the eighteenth, so …' James squinted in concentration as he counted off the days on his fingers. 'Yeah, half one tomorrow morning, or thereabouts.'

Sirius frowned unseeingly at the motorbikes. Perhaps it was ironic, because for the first time he was dreading the full moon – as Remus certainly did each and every month. Remus' anger may have settled, but he still had not forgiven Sirius and the resentment was as strong as it had ever been. Though neither one of them had said anything, Sirius was sure they both knew the risk they'd be running in leaving the tension and hostility unresolved.

Sirius knew the only good thing to do would be to stay behind, but that would require some sort of explanation and there was no way he could bring himself to tell James and Peter the reason he and Remus had barely spoken to each other during the last couple of weeks. He was relieved Remus apparently hadn't been able to either.

However, that was a small consolation as he tried to get some sleep that night, before it came time to head out. Wide awake in the darkness, he considered his options. He could feign sudden illness and stay behind, or he could go and let things play out however they would. Both were bad ideas, and he wasn't too keen on either. Perhaps there was another solution; there was still time, and if he could get to the shack before the moon was full and throw himself at Remus' mercy – beg, plead, be punching bag, anything as long as Remus got it out of his system before he turned – then just maybe it would work.

Careful to be quiet and not wake James or Peter, Sirius climbed out of bed, found his clothes and dressed. Hurriedly, he made his way down the tower, through the portrait hole and the seventh floor corridors and to the grand staircase. Pleading silently with them not to choose this moment to start moving, he descended and by some miracle made it to the ground floor, but any gratefulness at that was short-lived. The moment he rounded the corner he stopped in his tracks at what he saw.

Fair in the middle of the corridor that lead to the entrance hall, a suit of armour was brandishing its sword at the Grey Lady.

'Nay, wench, ye shall not pass,' it bellowed in Peeves' voice, and instantly dropped the sword and pointed at Sirius. 'Aha!'

The Grey Lady quickly made her escape through the ceiling as Peeves rid himself of the armour and let it drop to the floor with an almighty crash. He floated towards Sirius with an expression of utter glee.

'Ooh, lookie, the reject son from the ignoble and most archaic house of Black, out of bed. Very naughty, this one. I should tell, I should.'

'Fuck off, Peeves,' Sirius snapped, attempting to pass as quickly as he could and with as wide a berth as possible.

With a cackle, Peeves flew to the other end of the corridor and swooped down to take the end of the long rug. It was only quick reflexes that saw Sirius leap to the bare flagstones by the wall before his feet were pulled out from under him as Peeves gave the rug a yank. Then even before the clanging of the armour had stopped echoing off the walls, Sirius took off at a run, determined to put the poltergeist as his antics well behind him.

It was as he was crossing the entrance hall, readying his wand to cast the oft practiced spell at the massive oak doors which would allow him to exit the castle, that he heard Peeves' distant yell of "STUDENT OUT OF BED."

Sirius just kept on running.

* * *

The near-full moon illuminated the sky, silhouetting the Whomping Willow and its gently swaying branches. Sirius stared up at its formidable form only briefly. Hurrying still, he cast about for a fallen branch, one long enough that he could try to reach the knot at the base of the trunk, but there was nothing or else it was too dark for him to see.

Moving into the relative shade of the tree, he knew there was nothing else for it. He crouched down, lit his wand with a quick "lumos!", and cast the spell that turned him to the dog that was his Animagus, instantly feeling more alert and aware of his surroundings. Having to carry his wand in his mouth was a minor inconvenience, and he didn't think twice of it, but now, of course, came the problem of getting past the willow.

He launched himself into a run before he could give it too much thought, and instantly felt the change as the tree moved into action. He was fast, and it was such a short distance that as he neared the base of the trunk it seemed he'd make it before any of the branches came down on him. At the last moment he felt a sharp pain cut across his back, but he wasn't hit and he could still run, and the next moment he was sliding down the dirt at the mouth of the tunnel.

It was dark inside and difficult to see even with the charm but he kept up his pace until he neared the other end, stopping beneath the exposed wood of the shack's floorboards and support beams. He didn't pause to catch his breath when he changed back to his human form, but pulled himself through the trapdoor and made his way upstairs.

He noticed Remus on the bed, curled up beneath his cloak, the moment he entered the bedroom. The floor groaned and squeaked as Sirius walked across it, and if Remus was asleep it couldn't have been soundly, as he sat up at the noise and frowned in Sirius' direction.

'Is it time?' Remus said, and shifted to the end of the bed. 'Where are the others?'

'Probably still back at the castle.' Sirius avoided looking Remus in the eyes. 'I, uh, I'm a little early.'

Remus rubbed at his face, looking tired and pained.

'I wanted to talk to you,' Sirius ventured quietly.

'Oh yeah?' Remus crossed his arms. Eyes narrowed, he said, 'I remember the last time you said something like that to me.'

Feeling his nerve begin to crumble, Sirius took a steadying breath. 'Yeah, about that.'

When Sirius didn't go on, Remus raised his eyebrows. 'Well?'

It took all of Sirius' resolve to swallow his pride, open his mouth and say, 'I'm sorry.'

Remus' response came quickly. 'Are you? I don't believe you.'

'You don't have to believe me, but I am.' Sirius slumped against the wall, ignoring the sting it caused him. 'I'm sorry I kissed you. I'm sorry you hated it so much.'

'You had no right,' Remus said coldly, and Sirius braced himself for a verbal lashing, but it never come.

Feeling utterly crap and still right where he'd began, Sirius sat down on the dusty floor, back against the wall, and stared at the tattered bed covers. By silent mutual agreement they didn't speak or acknowledge each other as they waited for their friends and for the moon.

Sirius' first clue that it was getting close was when Remus began cracking his knuckles, and yet James and Peter still hadn't shown. Next he started scratching the back of his hands and his forearms as the hair there began the first minute changes, and Sirius knew from what Remus had told him in the past that this meant it was only minutes away. He stood when Remus did.

The cloak came off first, of course, then shoes and socks. All of this Remus tossed on the floor. Next, he pulled off his jumper and shirt in kind and threw them both on the bed behind him. He got so far as to undo the button on his trousers when he caught the look on Sirius' face.

'No point ruining perfectly good clothes,' he said in a strained voice and laughed entirely without humour, and before Sirius could even think of an appropriate response, Remus pushed both trousers and underwear to the floor and stepped out of them.

'Do you always ...' Sirius said, but found he couldn't finish the question.

'Yes,' Remus answered matter-of-factly. 'Like I said.'

Though he tried resist, Sirius couldn't help taking in the full view of Remus' naked body, even though he knew perfectly well Remus was watching him do it.

Remus clenched his fists, breathing deeply through his nose. The yellow that quickly became his eyes was shocking, even despite the knowledge of what was to come, but Remus closed them even as the colour deepened. He stood there, his chest rising visibly with each deep, shaking breath, and slowly he tilted his head back, turning his face to the ceiling.

Sirius watched, struck by the sight of Remus, by the energy coming from him that was so palpable it made Sirius shake. He felt as though he'd been punched in the stomach and hadn't yet caught his breath, immobilised by a weight that had settled over his chest, and as Remus' eyes cracked open, as the pain flickered across his face, that weight shifted and sharpened and tightened its grip around Sirius' heart.