I'd spent the past 3 hours pacing through hell, quietly, doing like Kreacher and cleaning nothing, waiting eagerly for Remus to awake. I was scared of what would appoint me downstairs: the people, the words, the questions, the judging eyes, tearing my soul in half. At first, I'd lingered, watched his silent slumber for the moment the lids lifted and we could appear as one, reinforced with the strength of a man used to decades of social abuse. But he continued to sleep, saving energy for the nights ahead, glowing so angelically that I'd dared not disturb the beauty that bounced and waltzed beneath the tender touch of my eyes. I'd left the room as not to stir the pale wonder, the door still a crack open so he didn't have to destroy the warm slender fingers that sprouted from his palms, lazily curled beside his head as he took a silent saunter through his imagination.

I pushed my old bedroom door a fraction to arc my head through the gap and check on my partner. It was empty, bedcovers lazily pushed aside and crumpling against the wall, curtains flapping quietly against the breeze. That bastard had abandoned me. I pulled the handle to a close and pressed my back against the dark wood, heaving a sigh. I should go down... and believe me, I wanted to... but I couldn't trust the eyes... it was bad enough when my family, whom I detested, flicked abominate looks at me... but the idea of my friends' simply terrified me, chilled me through.

My fingers taped against the aged timber, muted somewhat by the dampness that enjoyed to linger in this ancient house, and pondered for a moment, silently listening for sounds of utter disgust floors below me. Stillness. Not even a portrait spoke. No voices reverberating from beneath. I peeled my body from the door to stretch across the flooring, ear pressed intently at the worn boards for any sign of cruel resonance. Still nothing moved. Silence, as if the world had ended around me without my knowledge.

"Sirius... what are you doing?"

My head rolled, looking up the nose of the man 10 years my junior as he strolled to where I had sprawled myself, hair burning as wildly as ever.

"... I think the better question would be what are you doing? Considering this is my part of the house..."

Bill smiled down at me, slightly nervously, eyes flicking down the corridor and back again. "Ladies first..."

"Ah, but gingers just before!"

His eyes rolled, straightening himself as they did so, to tower above me with more dominance. "I've been ridiculed for my hair for as long as I can remember – it really doesn't bother me anymore. Besides, at least I'm not a product of pure-blood Nazism..."

My body concertinaed, propping me up on my legs and staring at him like a child. "You're pure-blood too..."

"Yes, but my children won't be missing toes due to years of incest... Now shut up and get up – everyone's waiting for you downstairs so Snape can start his report..."

"WHAT? WHO? IN MY HOUSE?"

"I said shut up! You sound like your mother! Endure him because, although no one likes him, we need the bastard! Now get off your sorry arse and go down stairs..."

I lifted my body, quite reluctantly, and stumbled towards the railing and looking down the central hole to the tiny heads bobbing below. "What a dick... barely know him and he's already sounding like fucking Remus... how old is he anyway... sounds like he's fucking 50 or something... twat..."

"I can hear you... Now hurry up!"

The decent to the bottom floor couldn't have gone quicker, the 20-year-old pushing me down the stairs at an alarming rate until we hit the last landing and I couldn't turn back even if I wanted to, coming to the conclusion that I should have clung the banister 4 floors earlier and been spared the trouble, effort and embarrassment.

At the bottom of the final flight of stairs, leaning casually against the wall, stood the greasiest sack of crap I'd ever had the humiliation of dating, smirking as I put my foot on the last step and touched the flooring. "Took you long enough... By the way, how's the husband? I'm sure you're enjoying this lovely new life as a house wife. It's quite fitting for you, isn't it?"

"Fuck off, Snivellus. Why are you even here? I'd rather you didn't get grease all over my walls, thanks. I mean I don't need to know where you've been but it seems you leave some kind of snail trail all over the place, it's almost impossible not to find out." I spat, his face itself burning my mind with disgust and hate.

His grin deepened, creating malicious dimples in his pale cheeks. "Because unlike you, Black, I'm needed around here. I'm sure that if you died no one would even notice you were gone. Whereas me... well... I'm sure you can already guess."

"Don't get your hopes up, honey. You're no more loved than me, if not less. Have you given Rems his wolfsbane yet?"

"Yes... All week actually... I've been and out of this house and you haven't even known about it? How pitiful! It's a shame everyone's been hiding this from you. I would have loved to have this conversation with you earlier. But hey... life goes on!"

I turned away, gnawing at my lip in frustration. "I can't be bothered with you. Hurry up with whatever you're doing and get out."

"Awwww... Swiwius... Feeling a bit down hearted, are we? Have I put a bit of a damper on your day?" He smirked, placing a hand on my shoulder in mock sympathy.

"I'm gonna shove a fucking damper up your arse if you don't fuck off!"

"Ohhh... sounds kinky! Better not tell poor ol' Lupin, though – he might have something to say about that..."

I spun on my heel, grabbing his collar and snatching the closest thing to me. "DIDN'T I JUST TELL YOU TO FUCK OFF? DON'T THINK I WON'T BEAT YOU TO DEATH WITH THIS...this... Kreacher?... HOUSE ELF!"

Under my willing force, they were both swinging about and bashing together, looking positively sea sick and out of sorts with each blow. In one hand, Kreacher muttering obscenities about the effects of consorting with blood-traitors on the psyche and, in the other, Severus Snape rambling about how much being beaten with a house elf would permanently scar him and all Gryffindors were stupid brutes.

"What the hell are you doing, Sirius? Put it down..." Remus sighed, appearing from a doorway along the corridor.

I stared at him blankly as he shuffled toward us, scraping his mess of golden honey from his face. "Which one?"

"Both!"

My hands opened and they both came crashing to the floor. I tried my best not to meet the icy burn of his eyes as he gave me a stern look, eyebrow raised as if asking for an explanation.

"I'm not even going to bother working out why you were attacking an old schoolmate with your family house elf but I don't think you should come to this meeting, Sirius. Both the elf and the man look very disturbed. Go do whatever you were doing earlier in the day... I'll talk to you later." He announced, as if I was one of his students – obviously still somehow stuck in teacher mode or the mature mode he'd liked to carry about for as long as I'd known him and maybe before that even.

This day was going to be a long, painful one. I could feel it in the air.