"Happy Christmas, Sirius!" James said, throwing himself onto his friend's bed.

"Ugh, mate, 'gerroff."

"Get up! There are presents downstairs!" It was apparent to Sirius that James had no intention of letting him sleep even a minute more, and so he pulled the covers back and stretched.

"I'm up, you prat, now stop sitting on my stomach before I hex you," the boy yawned. James jumped down and grabbed Sirius by the arm before pulling hard. With a yelp, both boys tumbled to the floor in a heap of tangled sheets.

After a minute or so of cajoling, James managed to get Sirius to accompany him downstairs. It wasn't that Sirius didn't like Christmas, he did. It was just that it was going to be hard for him to sit there while James opened his presents. Sirius usually got some presents for Christmas, but he knew this year he wouldn't. Not when he had disgraced the entire name of Black by being the first one ever in Gryffindor.

"Happy Christmas, Mr. Potter. Happy Christmas, Mrs. Potter," Sirius greeted the two adults as he entered the kitchen.

"To you, too, Sirius," Hannah said, hugging both boys to her. "We'll have a bit of breakfast first, all right? Then we can see what Santa left you boys."

As surprised as Sirius was at the fact that he would be getting a gift for Christmas, he didn't let it show. James sat at the table and began shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth. Mr. Potter looked over James' head and rolled his eyes at Sirius in a 'what can you do' way. Sirius smiled and plopped down beside James, taking an equally big helping of eggs.

"Hope I got the new Cleansweep 300," James muttered around a mouthful of eggs. Hannah tapped his head.

"Chew," she ordered.

And chew he did. In several minutes, both boys had cleared their plates and darted into the parlor, where a tall pine tree was decorated with ornate red bulbs and clear lights. There were six presents for each boy underneath, and Sirius, though he had come from an extremely wealthy family, had never had six presents. Regulus got three or four, but never Sirius. Sirius was a disgrace from the minute he was born, and he was lucky to get one or two small gifts from his parents. His Uncle Alphard had send him a racing broom last Christmas, but Walburga had made such a fuss over the present. He was sure Uncle wouldn't dare send another gift to him.

"Sirius, these are for you." Charles pushed the six little boxes over to the boy, smiling.

"James, careful!" Hannah warned, for James had dove under the tree to reach his presents.

But James didn't tip the tree, and he came out from underneath the green holding five red boxes and a long, thin red package. He shook them first next to his ear, and the look on his face was one of a little kid. "C'mon, Siri. Open yours."

Sirius set the presents Mr. Potter had handed him on the ground, and sat beside them. The packages were all red with green bows, while James' were the opposite. "Sirius, go on," Mrs. Potter prompted, taking a seat on the couch. "The presents are just small things, of course. Your mother and father are surely going to send you things. It's a shame they're in Romania. You must miss them."

At this, Sirius nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Thank you both." He ripped into the wrapping of the first present, and found a small book. Sirius Black was not a reader, but he was excited by this book. It was titled 'Quidditch Through the Ages', and Sirius doubted he had ever been so eager to read something.

"Thank you!" He grinned, opening the book and thumbing through the first few chapters.

"James mentioned you liked Quidditch," Charles explained.

Thirty minutes later, both boys were sitting in a heap of glossy wrapping paper. James had racked up, receiving a full Quidditch ball set, tickets to the Quidditch World cup next fall, the new broom he wanted, a book of pranks to pull, a snitch signed by Raymond Dawson-the Chudley Cannons seeker- and a new wand case with his initials on it. "Thanks, Mum! Dad!" James exclaimed when he had finished opening his presents.

Hannah smiled as her son launched himself into her arms for a hug. "Those are from Santa, James," she teasingly reminded him, and the boy rolled his eyes.

"Sure," he laughed, hugging his dad as well.

Sirius also hugged the Potters. They had given him a book, a Sneakascope, a pack of Chocolate Frogs, a wand case, night goggles to see in the dark, and a fountain pen with color changing ink. The gifts weren't nearly as nice or expensive as what James had gotten, but they thought his parents would send him things.

"Both of you are welcome. Now go play while we pick up the paper," Mr. Potter said, and James darted out of the parlor, Sirius following behind him.

(Insert line break here.)

At noon, the boys were sticky with sweat, and their hair was stuck to their foreheads. For three hours, Sirius and James had taken turns seeking the snitch. Sirius had borrowed Charles' old broom, and James had tried out his new one. One boy would throw the snitch, and the other would chase it. James had steadier hands, and it was easier for him to catch the snitch, but Sirius was faster on his broom.

"That was fun," James panted, taking his broom and putting it in the shed.

"Yeah," Sirius said, but he was distracted. He had just seen his mother's owl fly into the Potter's kitchen. He had to get to the letter before James' mother, lest their be something in there about the true reason Sirius was not home for the holiday.

Mrs. Potter won't read your mail, Sirius thought to himself as he followed James back to the house.

And she didn't. She did, however, hand it to him when he walked in the house. "From your mother," Hannah smiled, handing him a thick parchment envelope.

Sirius took it from her hesitantly. Should he open it? James was looking grim, for he knew the contents of the envelope would not be pleasant. "You don't have to-" He started to whisper to Sirius, but his friend had slowly started opening it. Hannah had gone back to the stove to finish preparing the Christmas dinner they would be having.

I'm simply writing to tell you that your father will be there to collect you shortly. Don't think this changes anything. I will not be known as a blood traitor simply because my son- I use that word loosely- decided to shame me by hanging around with one. You'll stay in your room this holiday, I don't want to see you.

Walburga

Sirius forced himself to smile at Mrs. Potter. "My parents are home from Romania. They came home early just to see me. My f-father, he'll be coming to get me."

He felt James go stiff beside him. Mrs. Potter, however, had an entirely different reaction. "Oh, Sirius! You must be so excited to see them. It's been four months, after all, hasn't it?"

"Yes, ma'am. I better go pack, then." Sirius stuffed the letter in his pocket and climbed the stairs. James darted behind him, not saying anything. Sirius opened the door to James' room and surveyed the place where he had stayed for the last week.

There were clothes strewn everywhere, a quaffle teetering on the bookshelf, Sirius' trunk on the floor, looking as though it belonged. But it didn't. Not the trunk, not his clothes, not even him. This was the Potters' house, and no matter how hard he wished, he would never been a Potter.

"Let me see the letter." James demanded, looking angrier than Sirius had ever seen him.

"No," Sirius said simply. He picked up some of the clothes and sorted through them to find the ones that were his.

"Why not?"

Sighing, Sirius tossed James a shirt that was on the floor. "Because."

"That's not a very good excuse." James dropped the shirt on the floor again, determined not to do any tidying up.

Sirius looked at James for a second. Nodding, he tossed the letter to his friend. "No, it wasn't one of my best excuses."

Appeased, James read. When he had finished, Sirius watched his friend closely. "You're not, you know. A blood traitor, I mean," Sirius offered, feeling awkward.

"Yes, yes I am. By some peoples' standards, anyway. But that's okay. I know that's not how you think of me." James set down the letter. "You don't have to go back."

Scoffing, Sirius said, "Yes, I do, James. I'll be alright, I promise. Nothing I can't handle."

"How bad it is gonna be?"

Sirius laughed. "No worse than usual. Look, I'm all packed, lets go play Exploding Snap on the front porch until he gets here."

So that's what they did. Mrs. Potter and Mr. Potter sat with them, each reading a book. "Sirius," a sharp voice said, and everyone looked up from what they were doing. Orion was there, in black velvet robes with a green hem.

"Father," Sirius said, rising to stand. "Goodbye James, Mrs. Potter, Mr. Potter. Thank you for having me."

Charles noted the formal tone in Sirius' goodbye, something he hadn't heard before. Sure, he was polite, but he was a boy, and he didn't usually posses such formality. "Goodbye, Sirius," he said, rising. He hugged Sirius, feeling the boy stiffen. Then he extended his hand to Orion. "I'm Charles, and this," he gestured to his wife, who was now hugging Sirius, "is my wife Hannah. I trust you had an enjoyable trip in Romania?"

Orion looked at the hand and turned away after a moment of thought. "We didn't go to Romania. Is that what you told them?" He turned to Sirius. The boy nodded his dark head up and down.

"Yes, sir. I didn't know how else to explain-" Sirius's voice faltered as he looked at his father. Orion strode away.

"Sirius," he snapped. "We don't have all day, boy." Jumping, Sirius hurried to grab his trunk. It was heavy, and with no one to assist him, he was forced to drag it down off the wooden porch and onto the grass.

"Bye," he said to James as loudly as he dared. And then, "I'm coming, Father!"

Hannah and Charles didn't know what to say to their son as they watched his friend run after his father. They sat in silence, shocked that any parent who hadn't seen their child for months could be so cold.

"He's always like that," James said quietly, scooping up the cards from Exploding Snap and putting them in the box.

Hannah looked at her son sharply. "Meaning?"

James shrugged. "He doesn't like Sirius very much."

"Explain." It wasn't a request.

"He's just, I don't know. The entire family was in Slytherin, and then Sirius went and got put in Gryffindor."

Hannah looked at her son, lifting his chin so he looked into her eyes. "And nothing else?"

For a moment, James wanted to blurt out everything. But, remembering his promise to Sirius that he wouldn't tell anyone about the abuse, he shook his head. "No, mum. Nothing else."

(Insert line break here.)

Remus was happy to go back to school. It wasn't that he didn't love spending time with his parents, it was just that he missed his mates. His room seemed so quiet and empty without Sirius' sleep talking, Peter's snoring, and James' hyper pillow fights.

He had forgotten how much his parents hovered over him, doing everything for him. Being away at Hogwarts, he had learned to defend himself, and to do things on his own. The morning he was to go back, he was more excited than he had been on September 1st.

This time, he knew his way around. He wouldn't be fooled by Peeves, or by the trick staircases or the trap doors on the fifth floor. He also knew that he had friends, and he wouldn't have traded that for anything in the world. Being a werewolf, he had isolated himself from most children his age, afraid he would hurt them. Now he knew better. It was possible for him to be a werewolf, and have friends, too. Dumbledore had made sure of that.

"Remus, eat something. I know you're excited, but if you don't eat you'll pass out on the train, and we can't have that," John laughed.

Remus chuckled and picked at his eggs, too excited to actually eat anything. "Can we go? James said he was bringing chocolate biscuits for the train and Sirius will eat them all if we don't go soon."

"Okay, go get your shoes and we'll apparate."

Obediently, Remus managed to track down his trainers in record time, and he shoved them on his feet as he grabbed his trunk. "Slow down, Sport." John warned, steadying his son as Remus tripped over the rug.

John, Rose, and Remus grabbed hands and apparated to the platform wall. One by one they walked through the wall, only to find themselves in the middle of an already bustling platform 9 ¾.

"Are you ready?" John said, hugging his son. Remus nodded, hugging his mum as well.

"I'll write loads, I promise."

"Rem, be careful, please," Rose begged, kissing her son.

He nodded, knowing that he would be. He was always careful. It was one of the characteristics that came with being a werewolf. "I promise."

"If you have any problems, especially furry ones, have Dumbledore floo us," John reminded, and Remus nodded again, his eyes taking a dull hue.

So many rules to keep his life in line.

(Insert line break here.)

"I SAID STOP TALKING TO ME JAMES, YOU PRAT." Peter watched in horror as Sirius swung a fist at James in the middle of their dormitory. Not wanting any prefects to come up, Peter cast a silencing spell around the room.

"I JUST WANTED TO MAKE SURE YOU WERE OKAY!"

"THE LETTER MADE IT WORSE!" The pair of them hadn't seemed to notice Peter was in the room.

From what he could gather, James had sent Sirius a letter that had made someone angry. Of course, they had ignored each other on the train, forcing Peter and Remus to keep the conversation going. At the welcome back feast, Sirius had made a point of sitting as far away from James as was possible.

"Mates, settle down." Remus came out of the shower, hair wet, in flannel pajamas.

"PISS OFF, REMUS!" Sirius had turned on Remus now, and his fists were clenched so tightly to his sides that Peter was sure he was going to punch someone. It was only the first evening back at school, and already they were all fighting.

"Sirius-no listen! I didn't mean to make your Father cross with you. I just wanted to make sure that he hadn't-" James looked desperate now, and Peter wasn't quite following the conversation.

For a second, Sirius looked positively murderous, a drastic change from his usually easy going persona. Then he sat down on James' bed with a sigh. "Well, he did. I only caught it worse when he realized I'd told you about the b-about everything. Your letter came at breakfast the next morning, and I couldn't get to it before he did. He read it and he burned it and he came upstairs and, well."

Remus looked as confused as Peter felt. "Mates," Peter said softly, "mind filling us in?"

James shook his head. "Not my story to tell. I'm going to go and brush my teeth." Then he hopped up from the bed and walked into the bathroom.

The room was positively silent. Remus was biting his lip, a habit he seemed to have whenever things were uncomfortable. Sirius was breathing hard enough for Peter to hear, panting almost. He really had let loose on James, all of the anger he had exploding at one time. But it wasn't James he was mad at really, or at least Peter didn't think so.

"Most of my family was in Slytherin," Sirius began softly, "all of it, really. I was the first boy in an entire century who was sorted into another house." A laugh escaped his lips, but Peter was scared by it. It wasn't his friend's usual barking laugh, loud and ringing. This laugh was quiet, full of bitterness that Peter couldn't hope to understand.

Continuing, Sirius said, "Bloodlines are rather important to my parents. I messed up the purity by hanging around with muggleborns and halfbloods in Gryffindor, I suppose. My father wasn't particularly pleased when he found out I was in Gryffindor, and he went absolutely mental when I went home with James for Christmas. So he went to the Potters on Christmas and took me home with him.

I caught it bad, of course. Right when I got home he took off his belt and whipped me with it. That wasn't so bad, course, 'cause I've had worse. It was James' letter that set him off. See, while I was at the Potters, James figured it out, you know. That my father, if you could call him that, was a sadistic bastard that took his anger out on me. And he wrote me to see if I was okay, mentioning that I should really tell someone about the beatings. You can imagine how angry Father was when he read that."

By this time, James had come out of the loo, and he was staring at the floor as if there was something interesting on it. Remus looked absolutely horrified, and Peter, for his part, felt sad. That was terrible, and Sirius spoke of it so nonchalantly, as if it didn't matter that his own father hated him.

"Take off your shirt." Remus had never spoken like that, ever. It was a tone of finality, the kind no one could argue with.

Sirius looked startled, and Peter figured he wasn't going to take off his shirt. But he did. Slowly, sure, but the shirt came off, and when it did, Remus nodded. He motioned for Sirius to come over to his bed, and the shirtless boy wordlessly obeyed.

As Sirius passed by his bed, Peter stifled a gasp. There were scars on his friend's back, ranging from long to short. Most of them were white and puffy, but there were new ones present also. Those new scars were a reddish pink, and they looked to be very painful.

"I figured you probably had some scars," Remus explained quietly. "This will sting a bit, but it feels better after a minute or two." With that, he spread his own scar cream on his friend's back with careful, practiced hands.

Sirius didn't whine, though, and it was obvious he was grateful for the relief. "Mother gave me some more bruise cream, but it doesn't do much besides hide the bruises. Doesn't even cover scars. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you lot, but I didn't know you all that well. I figured since James knew, you two ought to also."

James looked as if he could cry, and Peter didn't know what to say. Remus, however, obviously did, because he sighed, "Everyone has secrets, Sirius."

And how true that was.