Disclaimer: It's all Ms. Rowling's.

Old Wounds

"You thought it was me." A statement, not a question. Angry brown eyes met cautious hazel ones.

"Yes."

"How?"

Remus sighed. "You thought I was the traitor. It was a time of panic—"

"I never did," Sirius growled. He ran his hands through his hair roughly. It was too long, but he didn't care.

Remus had known that this conversation was coming. The quick apologies in the Shrieking Shack had been necessary at the time, but Sirius had been sitting alone, thoughts festering, trapped in a house that held nothing but bad memories. But Remus he hadn't expected it now, in the middle of an Order meeting. Sirius's face had grown stormier and stormier throughout before he jumped to his feet, grabbed Remus by the arm, and pulled him out into the hallway, mumbling some excuse that Remus couldn't hear.

"You did, you thought I was the traitor, everyone did. And I—I was… I was left all alone. James… gone. Peter dead, by your hand. And you locked away. I didn't know they'd chosen Peter—everyone thought they'd choose you. I know—" he put his hand up to stop Sirius from yelling. "I know that's why they chose Peter. I know that now. But at the time… at the time I was… broken, Sirius." He laughed bitterly. "I thought I was miserable when I knew everyone thought I was the traitor. I knew nothing of misery until that day. I was in no state to wonder if… if Peter had been the traitor. If he'd faked his own death. It was preposterous. And I was broken in two, and homeless, and unemployed, and friendless."

"But you knew me, Remus— how could you think I could hurt James and Lily? And Harry? My godson! Merlin, how could you?"

"You betrayed me, once," Remus said quietly.

Sirius' brow knit together. "What—"

"Snape. You almost made me kill Snape, Sirius, when I was transformed. My worst—Merlin—my worst nightmare at that point. You used me."

"I apologized for that years ago," Sirius said, still angry but losing steam.

"I know. But you're asking how I could think you might be the traitor, and that was always what I thought of, always how I convinced myself that you could." Remus shrugged. "You asked."

"It was a prank—"

"It was my life."

"I know," Sirius said faintly, shamefaced.

"How did you think it was me?"

"He was looking for…"

"Halfbreeds?"

"Desperate people," Sirius finished firmly. "My brother…"

"I know."

"He was desperate. And I could see… after Hogwarts, I could see that same look in your eyes that Regulus had sometimes. Trapped." Sirius sighed heavily.

Both men had deflated, their rage draining out of them and leaving them exhausted.

"As soon as I saw Peter's name on the Map, I knew. And I felt so relieved, Sirius. Furious, but relieved."

"I thought about you in Azkaban. Every full moon, I'd hope you were okay, and I'd hit my head against the wall over and over… 'How did I not see it was Peter? How could I think it was Remus?'" Sirius clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Because you were nothing but a friend to any of us, ever."

"Peter never made you angry either."

"Oh, you made me angry plenty, Moony." He flashed a roguish grin. "That was the problem. And Peter was never a friend. He was a parasite," Sirius spat.

"No, he was a friend Sirius. That's what makes it so terrible."