Back in the good ol' present... Enjoy and review if you wanna ;)

The flat was empty, alone. Remus had gone to get food – He didn't want anybody else to see me as it might become dangerous for our situation – and left me to rummage through our things. Well... he left me to sit down and do nothing... but I decided that snooping was more fun. He owned so many interesting things, all small and intricate, but the possession that intrigued me most was neither expensive nor magical. A shoe box: a shoe box bound closed with belts and ribbons, all carefully wound around one another; a shoe box that he kept secret and out of my grasp; a shoe box that he seemed to love almost as much as me. I wanted it, I wanted to see what was inside, what wonder awaited beneath the worn cardboard lid.

But, when I opened the top, trailing leather and silk across the bed, what lay inside was nothing as I imagined.

Letters. 146. Exactly – I would know. They were those letters. The one's I thought he'd forgotten, burned, threw away. The one's I thought he never read, all open in chronicle order as I spread them around me on the bedroom floor; all paired with an extra piece of paper, the replies that he never sent.

To my Remus,

I know you must have heard the whole story by now (or one side of it, at least) and, well, I don't know what to say; too terrified of digging myself a deeper hole, to find the word's that will make you understand, make you hate me less.

Though, as a result of what happened those days, I'm uncertain that I can believe in true friendship anymore. But, please, for the sake of my faith in love and prevailing happiness, believe me when I say: If I could have destroyed Wormtail, I would have. As for the other line of the story, I think you're clever enough to work it out.

I will write to you with every piece of parchment I receive until you find it in your heart to forgive me.

Always thinking of you,

Sirius x

To the foul monster that resides in the stone heart of Sirius Black,

How couldn't I have heard the whole story of the beast that betrayed one of his best friends, his friend's wife and small child, and completely obliterated the other? And I do believe you would have destroyed him if you could have, but you managed to leave a finger. It seems you've just decided to take up the ways of your family. Three cheers for the disgrace that is the Black family.

Besides, what does it matter that you don't believe in true friendship? How do you expect me to believe in either, you ogre? I hope you die rotting in that hole, surrounded by all those meaningless pieces of parchment that you seem to think will change time.

You don't even deserve to look at me, let alone own me.

Remus

That was the first I ever sent him; my first month in Azkaban. It hurt to read what he thought. I could still feel every tremor that shook me as I'd tried to grasp the words that hung so lifelessly in front of my 22-year-old face. I'd always imagined that he'd ignored them. It was a painful thought, but if I'd believed that this was what he'd done, how he'd seen me, I'm sure I would have died.

I slid my hand across the mess in front of me, trying to find at least one that hurt a little less. Before I knew it, my hand was hovering over a bulging envelope. Remus' handwriting was scrawled on the front.

The most beautiful sound in the world. I miss it.

Inside was a single cassette. I'd saved three months worth of letters to get that phone call. He didn't pick up, of course. But just hearing his voice on the answer phone had been enough. I'm sure I spoke for hours, with nothing to say, just because I knew there was a chance he was listening.

I placed the tape in the middle of the bed and carried over the player, dropping it next to me as I sat down. But before I could reach backwards to grab the recording, something smashed behind me. Remus stood in the doorway to our bedroom, shoes swimming in glass and rose wine.

"Sirius... why did... please say it's not... what I think this is..."

I didn't know what to do, so I just stared at him, the troubled glimmer in his eyes digging into my conscience. He strolled over and picked up the cassette.

"You don't need to listen to that. Put the tape player back." He said, voice cold, hard, emotionless.

I grabbed his wrist and pinned him down to the bed, trying to mask my pain with a layer of anger.

"Why? Why should I? I already know what it is, what it says!"

"That's not the point! It's mine and it's my choice of what I do with it! Besides, you can barely hear what it says anymore. There's not any reason."

"So..." I swallowed the lump in my throat "Did you really hate me... that much... that you'd destroy... the sound of my voice?" I loosened my grip on his arms and closed my eyes – I didn't want him to see me cry, especially for something so far in the past. "I'm sorry... I never should... I never should have..." I didn't know how to finish my sentence. I knew I didn't have to apologize anymore. I knew that it was all fine now. But, looking back on the time when he'd tell me that he'd love me no matter what and we'd rejoice in the beauty of our "undying love", I realised how empty the words I'd based the happiness of my teenage years on really were, ready to crumble at my feet.

I stood up and to begin toward the door.

"I never should have... fallen in love with you, Moony."

"Siri... Wait..."

I didn't want to look back, knowing his pained face would turn me into more of a mess than I already was.

"Siri... Siri, I didn't deface it... I... I wore it... I wore it out... because I couldn't... stand being without... you..."

I felt his forehead press itself against my back.

"I'm sorry"