Chapter 14: The Heart You Caught

"Padfoot."

Silence. The curtains were still drawn around the bed, but James knew with unerring certainty that his friend was awake. Remus and Peter had already headed down for breakfast – Remus had lots of strong opinions on cold toast and how it could ruin his day – so the dorm was quiet. An hour ago, he'd been able to hear Sirius' soft almost-snores through the red and gold hangings; that noise had tapered off now. He was awake, and, knowing him, waiting for James to go so he could move around unbothered.

Well, that didn't fit with James' plans.

"Okay, well, I'm coming in," he said, and unceremoniously opened the curtain in front of him, clambering onto his friend's bed.

"What the – that's my leg, you cretin!"

"Apologies," James offered, parking himself, legs crossed, at the end of the bed. With the curtain still slightly open, streams of daylight spilled across the covers and illuminated his friend's grumpy, pale face. "But it was either you coming out or me coming in, and you didn't seem to be moving in the near future."

Sirius hauled himself up into a sitting position, slumped against the headboard and pushed the hair from his eyes. "What do you want?" he asked, voice cool. "Come to accuse me of snogging Cadence now?"

James winced. "About that," he said, with a heavy sigh. "I'm really sorry. You were right, it was completely uncalled for – you know I trust you – I was just…" He trailed off, feeling stupid. Or rather, no more stupid than he had done all night since Sirius had stormed out of the common room. James had sat by the fire for a while, staring gloomily into the flames, not noticing the crowd thinning out around him until he was left alone. He'd slept fitfully, as he often did after he fell out with, well, anyone. And his restlessness was exacerbated by the hard truth of the matter: he was wrong. Sirius was right. He'd acted like an absolute twat. "I'm sorry, Pads."

Sirius squinted at him, looking torn. It probably would've been easy to drag this all out, to punish him for it, to make him beg forgiveness. But that wasn't really Sirius' way, at least not with the Marauders, and not when it was something so…real. James knew his feelings about Lily Evans were about as real – and as complicated – as these things came. "It's fine," Sirius said at last. "Don't worry about it."

James felt himself almost deflate with relief. "I know it's not fine," he assured him. "But – thanks, mate. I…I don't know what came over me."

Sirius sighed. "You seem a bit confused, Prongs," he said bluntly. "I thought you liked Cadence."

"I do," James replied quickly, and it was true. He really liked her – he liked her smile, he liked her eyes, he liked the way she was so sweet with everyone, from the most inconsequential first years up to her most obnoxious peers. "I do, honestly. It was just…harder than I thought it'd be, seeing you and Evans on a date."

At that, Sirius rolled his eyes. "It wasn't a date."

James twisted his mouth in what was supposed to be a smile, but came out more as a grimace. "It's fine. You don't have to sugar-coat it for me, Pads."

"I'm not," he replied, his words a blunt rebuke. "I'd say I fancy you about as much as I fancy Evans."

"Hey," James frowned, "what's wrong with me?"

"Christ," Sirius breathed, eyes raised to the heavens. "We're friends, Evans and I." He paused, before adding, "I'm not going to tell you what we talked about, because…well, it's her business. But trust me when I say that she needs all the friends she can get at the moment."

James' frown changed from something teasing to something more etched with worry. "What do you mean? What's going on?"

Sirius shot him a look. "You'll have to ask her," he said. "But – look, you can't trail Cadence around and still pine after Evans. It's not fair on either of them."

"I know." James swallowed. "I'm not pining." At Sirius' look, he continued, "I'm not. I care about her, that's all. Like friends do." He glanced at his watch. "If you're not hiding from me in here anymore, shall we go down to breakfast? I know how you get without your morning bacon."

"Alright, just…give me a few minutes." Sirius rolled off his bed in a way that, had James done it, would've looked entirely graceless, and ambled into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. "Did, um…Moony talk about his date yesterday?"

James leaned against the wall by the bathroom door, fighting off a yawn. "No," he replied. "Not yet anyway." He paused, before adding, "Pete didn't either, in case you were wondering."

There was a short silence – or rather, a lack of Sirius talking, as James could still hear the tap running. "Fuck off, Prongs."

"Alright," James agreed gamely. "Just saying."

The tap turned off with its customary creak and groan (no amount of magic could seem to fix the damage wrought in fourth year when James had bet Sirius he couldn't "pull a Muggle Jesus" and change the tap water into wine – the easiest five galleons he'd ever made, incidentally) and Sirius emerged, moving to change with his usual nonchalance. Neither Sirius nor James cared remotely about stripping off and parading around the dorm in the all-together, an ease with themselves that Pete and Remus did not seem to possess. James didn't understand it – there wasn't anything wrong with either of them, they were perfectly decent looking lads, even if he wasn't that way inclined himself – but then, he had always been blessed with confidence oozing from every pore. It was difficult, sometimes, to remember that not everyone felt the same way.

"You know," James said, watching as Sirius hopped about, trying to secure his other sock, "your interest in Moony's dating life has become a bit…"

Sirius glanced over, his gaze sharp. "Become a bit what?"

James paused, searching for the right word. "A bit…much."

Sirius let out a loud, unhappy burst of laughter. "Oh, that's fucking rich coming from you-"

"This isn't about me," he interrupted quickly. The last thing he needed was to reopen that particular topic of conversation. "This is about you and Moony."

Sirius moved to the door, and James followed close behind as they made their way down the stairs and through the common room. "We're friends," Sirius said at last, bluntly, when they were safely alone in the corridor again. "That's all."

"Mate," James sighed. It was getting exhausting, the level of self-denial on display from his two friends. "Really? You care just as much about Pete and Iris as you seem to about Remus and Ollerton?"

Sirius seemed to flinch at even the mention of the Ravenclaw's name. "It's different."

"How is it different?" James pressed.

"Because – because Moony's got…other stuff to deal with," Sirius argued. "I'm just looking out for him."

"Well, sure," James agreed mildly. "And I care about that stuff too, but you don't see me staring daggers at the Ravenclaw table and trying to find out what they got up to on their dates."

Sirius shot him a scathing look. "You're about to make judgements about staring where you shouldn't, are you?"

James rolled his eyes. "Maybe it gives me a unique understanding of what you're going through."

They'd reached the Great Hall, and paused in the doorway; Sirius' gaze drifted, almost against his will, over to where Remus and Peter were sat devouring their breakfast. "I don't know what to say about it," he said at last, his voice much too quiet, much too deflated. He glanced back at James. "Okay?"

"Alright," James said, patting his friend on the back. "But, when you do know what to say…you know where I am."

"I do," Sirius agreed, "because we have a magical map that allows me to track your movements."

"I meant more figuratively, but, you're not wrong," James gave him a shove into the hall. "Come on – bacon awaits."

A quiet castle was surely a good thing – she'd never thought differently before. But somehow, as Lily walked along with Remus on another loop of the winding corridors, an hour into their prefect duty, there was something that unsettled her. Was it really all that different to how things normally were? She wasn't sure.

It was possible that everything going on in her life at the moment was putting her on edge. She felt like she was constantly watching out for an owl, or for McGonagall to come sweeping in and deliver terrible news. Her mother's death was inevitable, and waiting for the axe to fall had become a slow and silent torture.

Telling the girls had helped, somewhat, but there was only so much they could do or say. At least she didn't feel like she had to keep it all bottled up all the time anymore, didn't feel like she had to let the emotions, the fear, scratch away at her insides until there was nothing left of her to give. She knew that Sirius hadn't told anyone else, mainly because Remus, James and Peter were still treating her the same as they always did – although, come to think of it, James had been acting a bit strange lately. Hot and cold. But she knew he was busy (weren't they all?) and, not wanting to look into it too deeply, decided that must be the reason why.

No wonder she felt like something was about to leap out from behind a pillar as they patrolled the castle. No wonder she was becoming something of a basket case.

"Down to the dungeons next?" she suggested as they reached the stairs; she hated going down there, but there was strength in numbers, at least. "Although it seems as if everyone is staying firmly in their common rooms tonight."

"It is quiet, isn't it," Remus agreed, starting down the stairs. "A bit unsettling."

"Yes!" she nodded quickly, feeling rather validated. "I was just thinking that – like there's something we're missing."

He looked around them as they walked. "I don't know what we could have missed though, Lil," he offered. "All the classrooms we've checked have been empty, the usual 'hot spots' too…"

"I know," she sighed; they crossed the entrance hall and made their way down the steps to the dungeons. She tried not to let a shiver overtake her as the light dimmed. "I'm sure it's nothing."

Sure enough, the dungeons were empty, too – a bit dull, really, considering they could usually rely on some Slytherin or other doing something they shouldn't be in one of the Potions classrooms. They redirected themselves back up the stairs, the sound of their feet on the flagstones the only sound.

"So," Lily spoke up again, as they climbed up the stairs between the fourth and fifth floors, the silence starting to wear her down, "how're things with you and Owain?"

Remus glanced over at her. "They're…good," he replied; he shoved his hands in his pockets with a shrug. "We had fun in Hogsmeade. We have fun, generally."

"And that's not what you want?" she asked curiously.

"No, I…" He sighed with a rueful smile. "I'm not sure what I want, really."

"He's not trying to rush you, is he?" she checked. "I'll hex his balls off if he is."

"No, no, nothing like that," he assured her. "You know Owain – he couldn't be nicer. He's thoughtful, he's funny, he's…" His cheeks coloured slightly. "He's fit."

Lily grinned. "Yes he is," she agreed. "Well, I wouldn't overthink things, if I were you. Just let it happen and see how you feel."

"Good advice," he nodded. "I'll do my best."

"I know how it is to overthink things-" she started, but came to a stop: they'd reached the seventh floor, and now was the time they ran into another human being. Charlotte Swift, the Gryffindor keeper, was leaning against the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. She stared at the wall opposite in a manner which told Lily she hadn't heard the two prefects approaching.

Remus and Lily shared a confused frown. "You okay, Charlie?" Remus said; she glanced round, seemingly startled from her thoughts. "You should be back in the tower…"

"Oh," Charlotte said, and glanced at her watch – a battered-looking Muggle product. "Shit. Sorry – I lost track of time."

Lily didn't feel like now was the time to be docking points. The whole interaction was leaving her feeling as if she'd missed something, something significant. "It's okay," she assured the girl. "We'll walk back with you – we've finished our patrols anyway."

"Thanks," Charlotte smiled distractedly, looking over at the wall opposite one more time before falling into step with her housemates. "Didn't realise it's past curfew."

A long way past curfew. Lily shrugged it off. "Well, you were nearly back, anyway," she smiled, and Remus matched it. "Two more corners and you'd have been at the portrait hole."

Charlotte was quiet for a few moments. "Good patrol?"

"Boring," Remus replied. "You're the only one we've seen all night."

"Not even a single couple getting frisky in a broom cupboard," Lily added, trying to sound more light-hearted than she felt. "Disappointing."

"Sorry to hear that," Charlotte offered quietly as they stopped in front of the Fat Lady's portrait. She mumbled the password and led the way through to the common room, pausing at the foot of the stairs. "Thanks again, for not taking points or anything," she said, briefly meeting Remus' gaze. "Won't happen again."

"No problem," Remus replied. "Night, Charlie."

"Night," Charlotte echoed, before hurrying up the stairs.

Lily glanced over at Remus, glad to see he looked as baffled as she did. "Well," she shrugged. "If only all patrols were as uneventful, eh?"

"Right," he agreed, but she was certain that he felt as she did – as if there was more to all of that than met the eye.

"And that was when I realised," Pete was saying, face full of mirth, "that she'd meant bowtruckle, not grindylow!"

Sirius raised his eyebrows, nodding gamely. "Oh, ha, yeah-"

"Bless her," Pete shook his head. "She's bloody cute, Iris is."

Sirius probably should've been paying attention earlier in the conversation – actually, the word 'conversation' was a bit generous for what he'd just sat through. 'Monologue' was more fitting. Pete had started talking, and Sirius had tried, he really had, to listen intently, but it had been about three minutes before his mind had started to wander. In a way, it was endearing, to see his usually low-confidence friend so buoyed, so cheerful. In another way, it was tedious and irritating. Sirius was trying not to let that side of things win out, but Merlin's beard it was challenging.

However, James had headed off to quidditch, and Remus had muttered something about – well, whatever, he'd buggered off too, and so it was either sit here by the fire, listening to Peter ramble on about his girlfriend whilst trying to get him to focus on the game of chess in front of them, or sit around the dorm on his own.

Technically, there was a third option of doing his Charms essay, but why do it now when he could leave it until the morning it was due in like he always did? He could pull an O-graded essay out of his arse in thirty minutes flat. An extremely helpful talent.

As if sent by some divine being – or, you know, wandering down from her dorm looking bored – Mary ambled over to them. "Evening, lads," she smiled, and caught Sirius' eye. "Bit of fresh air, Black?"

He probably shouldn't have leapt out of his chair with quite so much enthusiasm, but, well, that ship had sailed. "Great idea, Mac."

"Cigarettes are bad for you, you know," Pete advised gravely from his armchair.

"Lucky, because I've always enjoyed things that are bad for me," Sirius winked. "See you in a bit, Wormy."

He followed Mary out of the common room and they trekked down to their usual spot by the greenhouses in a companionable silence. It wasn't until they each had a cigarette lit, slumped on the cold ground, that Mary spoke up. "So," she said, and shot him a small smile, "I hear you convinced Lily to talk to us."

Sirius took a drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out of his nostrils in a thick plume. "I did," he agreed. "Glad to hear she actually did."

Mary shook her head. "I knew something was up," she sighed. "I just – didn't expect this."

"I had to basically drag it out of her." He watched idly as ash floated to the ground. "Think she's been in denial."

"I think I'd probably be the same," Mary mused softly, sadly. "Well, anyway – thank you for pushing her on this."

He gave her a crooked half-smile. "About time I started giving some good back into the universe, isn't it?"

She delivered a sharp nudge to his ribs with her elbow. "Don't start with this again."

"How was the big date with McMillan?" he asked, deciding it was best to move away from areas of self-pity. No one wanted to see that. "Did he wine, dine and sixty-nine you?"

"Sirius Black!" She swatted him on the arm, a move which hurt more than he'd expected. She was stronger than she looked. "Not everything is about sex, you know."

"Oh, isn't it?" he smirked. "My mistake."

"We had a lovely time, thank you," she tapped her cigarette before taking another pull. "He was a perfect gentleman." After a pause, she added, "when I wanted him to be."

Sirius laughed. "I suppose you can't ask for better than that, can you…"

"No, I suppose not," she grinned.

"I'm glad it's going well, Mac," he told her, more sincerity in his voice now. "You deserve it."

"Thanks." Her cheeks blushed a pretty pink, visible even in the dim light of the moon. "How's your romantic life looking? Got your sights set on anyone?"

Sirius looked away. "No one new."

"Ah." He glanced back at her at the tone in her voice, audible even in that one, short word. "So you're still torn up about Remus."

He frowned, aggravated. "Why does everyone think that?" he asked defensively. "First James, now you-"

"Well," she interrupted kindly, "it could be because you're often looking at him, or looking for him, and since Ollerton came on the scene-"

Sirius couldn't stop the eye roll just at the mention of the Ravenclaw.

"My point exactly! You hate the bloke now," Mary pointed out. "But before he and Remus started seeing each other, you liked him just fine."

"That's got nothing to do with anything," he grumbled, grinding the remains of his cigarette into the grass. "I've just gone off the prick, that's all."

"Sirius Black," she said, her voice much softer than when she'd said the same thing only minutes ago. "Who exactly are you trying to fool here? Is it me, or is it yourself?"

He climbed up off the ground, brushing his trousers off. "Best get back inside," he said, offering her his hand. "It's nearly curfew."

She sighed, but accepted his hand, letting him pull her up off the ground too. "You are infuriating."

"You're not the first person to make that observation," he allowed. "And I'm sure you won't be the last."

They made their way through the dark grounds and back up to the castle; up the steps, Sirius let Mary lead the way, frowning when she came to an abrupt halt just inside the castle doors. "Hey, what's with-"

Then he saw why. Regulus Black was waiting at the top of the stairs that led down into the dungeons. He held himself with that same, familiar, aristocratic grace, even when all he was doing was leaning against a stone wall. His arms weren't crossed, nor were his hands in his pockets – because Blacks didn't slouch, did they, or look like they were "waiting for a bus" – and yet he looked relaxed, regal as ever. Probably the benefit of knowing that no one could really touch him; the gilded protection that came from now being the sole heir to the House of Black.

Regulus' gaze found his brother's, and he stepped forward, his face unreadable. "Sirius."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, aware that Mary was watching on with a mixture of concern and fascination. "Reg," he replied – he thoroughly enjoyed the slightest twitch of eyebrow that came from his use of the hated nickname. "Fancy seeing you here."

Regulus let his eyes move briefly to Mary, his expression guarded: he was far too cautious a person to ever react the way his housemates would to someone they deemed unworthy. In fact, his face didn't change at all; he just let his gaze sweep briefly over the girl before returning his attention to his brother. "I was hoping to have a word," he said, adding, "in private."

Sirius let out a low chuckle. "Well, I'm not letting Mac just wander off on her own at this time of night," he replied. "There are some people who would want to use her blood status as an excuse to hurt her, you know – can you believe it?"

Regulus narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps she would permit waiting for you in the empty classroom on the next floor."

"Perhaps she doesn't love being spoken about as if she isn't here," Mary interjected coldly, turning her attention to Sirius. "I'll go and wait up there if you want, though, Black."

He paused. It would give him untold satisfaction to tell his brother to take his wishes for "a word" and shove them where the sun didn't shine – truly, an entirely appealing idea. But he also knew how unusual it was for Regulus to want to talk to him, which meant it was probably important. He pushed down his 'fuck it, let the world burn' instincts, and nodded. "Thanks, love." He gave her hand a quick squeeze. "We won't be long."

Mary nodded before shooting Regulus what she probably thought was an intimidating look – bless her, she wasn't as scary as she hoped – and heading off up the stairs. It was only once they heard the sound of a classroom door quietly clicking shut that Regulus spoke up.

"Mother and father are intending to visit," he said, his voice tight, controlled. "They wish to speak with you."

"I'll bet they do," Sirius agreed darkly. "And I really do hate to disappoint them, but I think I'm busy."

"I didn't say when they were coming."

"And yet I still know I'll be busy." Sirius laughed, a sound with so little actual humour. "Seriously, Reg, did you think I was going to say yes? That I even want to see those abhorrent arseholes ever again?"

Regulus flinched, just barely. "They're our parents-"

"They're your parents," Sirius interrupted. "I've been disinherited and disowned, in case you hadn't heard."

"They just want to talk-"

"I'd sooner be eaten alive by an angry hippogriff than talk to-"

"For fuck's sake!" Regulus' calm veneer shattered for just a moment; he breathed to steady himself. "Sirius. Things are changing in our world, you must realise that – the pureblood way of life is the only-"

"And your time's up," Sirius decided, his voice cold. "I have a lovely lady waiting for me, so, if you'll excuse me…"

He was across the entrance hall, up a few steps when Regulus' voice made him pause. "Be careful, Sirius." He didn't turn around – didn't want to give his brother the satisfaction. "Be careful who you align yourself with. This – this SWEN business -" Sirius shook his head, starting to move again. "Just…be careful."

"A delight to talk with you as ever, dear brother," Sirius called back, pretending that Regulus' words hadn't left him feeling distinctly unsettled. "We must do this again sometime."

He heard the sound of footsteps fading away, his brother slinking back to his dungeon common room, and managed a much more cheery smile than he felt when he retrieved Mary from the empty classroom on the first floor.

"Everything okay?" she asked anxiously.

"Absolutely," he replied, and could almost believe it himself.

"Mr Lupin. A moment, please."

Remus tried not to grimace, slinging his bag over his shoulder and moving towards the front of the Defence classroom. Ever since the strangest meeting he'd ever attended at the Hog's Head on Valentine's Day, Merryton had largely treated him as she always did, as she did every student: as if he was a mere inconvenience. To be held back at the end of the lesson, over a week after he'd seen a new side to her – Serena, her name is Serena, his mind insisted on blaring unhelpfully – was rather disconcerting.

"Professor?" he adopted his most polite, neutral expression.

Merryton glanced towards the door, where the last lingering student was finally leaving the classroom, then nodded to a nearby chair. He sat down, reluctantly. "I was wondering if you'd had the chance to digest what we discussed on the fourteenth."

Another terrifying thing about her – there was no concept of small talk with Professor Merryton. Straight to the heart of things, no pissing around or gently leading someone into a subject. "Um, well – yes, a bit."

She raised an arched eyebrow. "I know for a fact that you can be more eloquent than this, Mr Lupin."

"Right." He swallowed. "I'm – I'm not averse to the idea, or anything, just – being still at school – how much can I really do?"

She allowed him a nod. "True, that does present its difficulties," she said. "But there are things one can do even within the walls of Hogwarts, before one is ready to graduate and join the Order proper."

He raised his eyebrows with a mixture of alarm and concern. "What could I do around here that won't get me in front of Dumbledore?" he asked, adding, quickly, "erm, Professor Dumbledore."

She raised her eyebrows in return, a much more mocking glint in her eye. "Mr Lupin, it is Albus Dumbledore who asked Moody to suggest the Order to you in the first place," she told him. "Your headmaster is more than just a headmaster, you know."

Well. That stumped him. "Oh," he said profoundly.

"Perhaps you should discuss it with like-minded friends, people you trust," she suggested, her voice light, almost airy, as if they were discussing what cake to have with tea. "I'm sure you are aware that the other side are recruiting in the castle, too."

"I…guessed as much," he nodded. There was no shortage of Slytherins – and, he thought glumly, probably other houses too – who agreed with the anti-Muggleborn sentiment that was spiking around them.

"Lord Voldemort has no qualms about preying on underage wizards and witches," she said, ignoring his wince at the name. "Teachers are, sadly, not the ideal people to try to investigate who the students are who have been drawn in."

Ah. "So you want students on your side," he said, "to tell you who's gone dark."

"They say it is helpful to know exactly what one is facing, in battle," she remarked. "And I'm inclined to agree; aren't you?"

It wasn't as if he didn't want to help – as if he had ever been okay with sitting in the middle ground, letting injustices pile up around him, pile up on him. But there was something about all this that felt so calculated, like they'd known exactly who to target: the werewolf, the disenchanted half-breed – the one who was already as good as an outcast from society.

"I'll think about it," he said, standing up. He'd never left Merryton without being dismissed before; it was an uncomfortable feeling. "I should get to dinner."

"Very well," she agreed, her words clipped. He tried to resist the wave of anxiety that came from so clearly disappointing a teacher. "I will see you at your next lesson, Mr Lupin."

He didn't say anything else, just made his way out of the room, purposefully steadying his stride even though his instinct was to rush. In the hallway, leaning against the wall across from the classroom door, was Owain: Remus felt a surge of affection, just at the sight of him. "You didn't have to wait for me."

Owain raised an eyebrow and offered him a grin. "And leave you at the mercy of that ice queen?" he asked as Remus sidled closer; his hands found Remus' hips, drawing him closer still. "I could never."

"You're too kind," Remus smiled, sliding his hand up his arm. "I survived to tell the tale, as you can see."

"Hmm," Owain leaned in, shooting a quick glance each way along the corridor before pressing his lips against Remus', a brief but thrilling kiss that didn't last as long as he wanted. "Did it make you want to celebrate life?"

Remus bit his lip, distracted a moment by the progress of Owain's fingers along the nape of his neck. "Absolutely," he agreed, a bit breathlessly. "But maybe, after dinner?"

Owain laughed, a warm, rich sound, and snuck in one last kiss. "Merlin forbid anything get in the way of Lupin and his sausage and mash."

"You know me so well."

"That I do." Pulling apart reluctantly, they started in the direction of the Great Hall; their hands brushed, but neither went that last inch and actually held on to the other. That felt like a big step – one they hadn't discussed. "So, I was thinking," Owain said as they reached the entrance hall. "How about a change of scenery? As much as I enjoy our broom cupboard on the fourth floor…"

Remus stopped just before they would be in sight of those in the hall, giving Owain a smile. "What did you have in mind?"

"The come and go room," Owain replied, and laughed fondly at the bewildered look on Remus' face. "On the seventh floor, opposite that mad tapestry."

"Oh! There's a room there?" Remus frowned in confusion, then paused. "Actually, now you mention it…I swore I found a room up there last year when I needed some peace and quiet – never could find it again afterwards."

"Yes, well, it kind of gives you just what you need at that time," Owain told him. "So, it'll be able to work out just what we need…"

Remus did his best not to blush, or look too nervous. "Great," he nodded. "It sounds perfect."

"Meet you up there in an hour?" Owain asked, and, at Remus' nod, he leaned in for a quick kiss. "Bon appetite, then."

Remus watched him walk away, off to his friends at the Ravenclaw table, and gave himself a minute or two before he made his way into the Great Hall too. The sound of chattering competed with the clang of cutlery as the student body dug into the piles of food: platters of sausages, huge bowls of mash, heaped platters of green beans and huge tureens filled to the brim with gravy. The smell was incredible as Remus made his way down the Gryffindor table towards his friends – bangers and mash day was truly his favourite. Something about it always reminded him of his mum; Hope took great pride in her roasted onion gravy. It sometimes seemed like the house elves had divined this information, because the scent of the rich gravy was like being transported back to Herefordshire in a flash.

"There you are!" James waved his sausage-laden fork in greeting. "Merryton really likes to talk to you after lessons, doesn't she?"

"He's a right teacher's pet," Pete grinned.

"What can I say," Remus offered drily, swinging himself into the space next to Sirius. "I'm a delightful conversationalist."

"Don't need to tell us that, Moony," James said. "Hey, can you help out with SWEN stuff tonight? I've got a committee going, just need to get a few more things ready for Friday."

James had been slogging away in preparation for the second SWEN event for the past week. At a past meeting, a Muggleborn had been reminiscing about all the music and literature he was missing out on when he was at Hogwarts, and together the group had come up with the plan for a 'swap shop' – a chance for people to bring along their Muggle pop culture stuff, records and books and posters, whatever they didn't have use for anymore, to trade with others. James had also brought a load of items back from Hogsmeade, and had ordered things in via owl post. Just setting the whole thing up was going to take a while, Remus suspected.

"I would," Remus replied, focusing on his meal and not the boy sitting silently next to him, "but I've…got plans."

"Ooooh," Peter cooed, wiggling his eyebrows. "You and Ollerton can't keep your hands off each other, can you?"

"Honestly," James shook his head teasingly. "Some people just can't keep it in their pants."

Remus could feel his cheeks heating, and shot a glare across the table. "Shut up."

"Well, I suppose we'll have to battle on without you, then, Moony," James sighed. "While you go off in search of carnal pleasures-"

"Prongs-"

"-pleasures of the flesh-"

"James-"

"-like the truly selfish person that you are," he finished with a dramatic flourish of his fork. His expression broke into a smile. "I'm joking, Moons – you deserve a bit of fun."

Remus sighed heavily. "Why am I friends with you?"

"Glutton for punishment?"

"Lingering self-hatred?" was Pete's suggestion.

Sirius stood up. "I'll see you back in the common room," he said, largely directed at the pair opposite, and strode off out the hall before anyone could say anything at all.

James watched him go, then glanced back at Remus. "Well, there goes another SWEN helper."

Remus managed a faint smile. "Sorry, mate."

They wiled away the rest of dinner determinedly chatting about other things: quidditch, their Potions projects, the SWEN event. Remus said goodbye to his friends a few minutes after he saw Owain leave the hall, starting to make the long trek up to the seventh floor. By now, he felt like he needed a pleasant distraction.

Owain was standing by the tapestry, staring at the wall opposite with a frown on his face when Remus arrived. "Alright?" Remus asked carefully. "Has the wall done something to upset you, or…?"

Owain let out a huff of frustration. "I can't get in," he told him. "You have to walk past three times, thinking about what you need, and the door should appear. But…" He gestured to the blank wall. "Nothing."

"Huh." Remus moved forward, patting the wall as if that might make a difference. "That's odd. It's never happened before?"

"Not once," Owain confirmed. "Maybe someone's already in there."

Remus shrugged. "Or the room's having a holiday."

Owain allowed him a smile. "I suppose anything is possible in a bloody magic castle," he allowed. "Sorry – I was just…really looking forward to showing you the room."

Remus moved closer, reaching out to tilt his chin just so, just at the angle that he could dot a soft kiss to his lips. "Another time, then," he said. "For now…the prefect's bathroom?"

Owain's smile broadened. "Wet, soapy Remus Lupin?" he asked. "I'm in."

The sky was dark by the time quidditch practice came to an end, and although there had been a warmth to the day, as soon as the sun set, the chill was unmistakeable. Thank Merlin for warming charms – James had had enough of feeling like his hands were frozen to his broom.

He honestly didn't mind Kasim approaching him once they'd showered and changed, wanting to have a deeply earnest talk about areas for improvement and game strategy – he couldn't think of a time in his life when he had ever not wanted to talk about quidditch, to be honest – but it had been a long week, and he was exhausted. Thursday was always a bit of a bludger to the stomach anyway, with a relentless parade of difficult classes before the long practice session outside, and all that following a week of other quidditch practices, SWEN planning sessions and mountains of homework, not to mention finding time to see his friends and his girlfriend, left him feeling like he was on his knees.

But he couldn't say no to Kasim. The boy was far too nice – it'd be like kicking a baby or your grandma or something. So they sat in the locker room, picking over the finer points of his technique, for at least an hour before the fourth year said, "shit, I'm supposed to be meeting Robert in the library," and made a mad dash for the castle.

James followed at a more sedate pace – largely due to the fatigue that hung over him like a raincloud – and trudged steadily back up to Gryffindor Tower. He was beginning to curse not asking the hat to sort him into Hufflepuff (lucky sods, no stairs to climb) when he rounded the corner by the tower and came to a stop. Just ahead of him, Charlie Swift was stood outside the portrait hole, still in her quidditch gear, looking utterly lost in thought. She had headed up straight after practice, citing the shocking water pressure in the locker room showers – James could understand that concern. So then why was she still out here…?

"Alright, Charlie?" he asked as he got closer.

His voice seemed to flick a switch in her, and she glanced round quickly, trying for a smile. "Oh! Yeah, fine," she replied. "Sorry, in my own world…"

"Happens to the best of us," he offered with a smile of his own. When she didn't move again, he paused then muttered the password to the Fat Lady (who grumbled, "finally!") and gestured for Swift to go through first. "After you."

Charlie blinked. "Thanks, James," she met his gaze for a moment - he didn't like the look in her eyes, like something was bothering her, but she didn't give him a chance to ask before she climbed through the portrait hole and vanished up the girls' staircase.

Across the common room, Remus and Lily sat together, heads bent over a book. It took him a moment to decide to go over there – longer than it should have, really, but he felt Sirius' words echoing round his head, the worst kind of conscience that told him he needed to be better than all this, to not let old, muddled feelings get in the way of what he had with Cadence. But surely this was okay: Lily was his friend, after all, and so was Remus. It was nothing more than friendship that drew him to their table.

"Evening, folks," he spoke up, and their heads lifted in unison. "Working hard?"

Lily smiled. "We are – I know that's a foreign concept to you, Potter."

James laughed, clutching his chest. "You wound me, Evans."

Remus raised an eyebrow. "We're going over the reading for Merryton," he said; there was something in his gaze that James did not want to analyse. "You're welcome to join us…?"

In his mind, he could see the evening unfolding – sharing a book with her, making her laugh and her returning the favour, letting himself be drawn in by the way the firelight made her hair glow like rays of the sun. Heading up to bed, thinking about her.

This wasn't healthy.

"No, you carry on," he said with a smile. "Just came to say hello – there's a quidditch magazine with my name on it waiting upstairs."

"Such intellectual pursuits," Lily teased.

He couldn't resist giving her a quick wink. "Enjoy your reading, you two," he added, before turning and making his way up to the dorm. It felt strange, walking away from an invitation like that – even if it hadn't come from Lily herself, it felt like she would've been happy enough for him to stay. He redirected his thoughts to Cadence, to the way she'd smiled up at him after dinner that evening, how soft her hair had felt as he'd brushed it behind her ear, the silk of her skin as he'd cupped her cheek to press a gentle kiss to her lips.

He didn't want to be this person. He was better than this. And if that meant a bit of distance between himself and Lily Evans, well…so be it.

Remus woke with a start, eyes flying open in the dark of the dorm as if he'd been snatched from his dreams. He lay there for a few minutes, wondering what had woken him - the room was silent save for the gentle wheeze of Peter's snores. It was only when he'd reached for his watch to check the time (nearly three in the morning) that he noticed the blue wand light easing out from around the bathroom door.

As he climbed out of bed and padded quietly over, he felt awash with a strong sense of déjà vu – a feeling which only intensified when he opened the door and found Sirius crouched over by the far wall, knees drawn up to his chest, pale and looking so much younger than his years. He stood there a moment - his friend didn't look up - remembering the last time this had happened. Before… everything. Back when they still talked openly, back when they could look each other in the eye.

He shook off that memory and moved forward; the movement seemed to awaken Sirius, who looked up, the blue light catching the tear tracks on his cheeks that hadn't yet dried. "Moony," he murmured. His voice sounded desolate, barren. Pained. "Did I wake you?"

"No." He wasn't sure if that was true, but he didn't want him to know that. "Are you…okay?"

Sirius tried to smile. It was not convincing. "Think so."

"What are you…did something happen?" Remus asked.

There was a pause, as if that question was impossible to answer. "Still dream about it," he replied quietly. "Caught me tonight."

Remus hesitated a moment before he sat down next to his friend. "Dream about what?" he asked, with some trepidation. It didn't feel like the answer could be anything pleasant.

Sirius stared at the tiled wall opposite. "My mother," he mumbled. "My father. The room – it's like I'm back there."

That sentence hurt more than it should and he knew exactly why. "I'm sorry…"

There was a lingering silence as Sirius dropped his gaze to the floor. Eventually, when Remus was beginning to wonder if he should just go, leave him in peace, he finally spoke again: his voice was rough, scraped its way out of his throat with raw emotion. "And sitting outside the hospital wing. Waiting for you to let me come in."

Remus frowned, shifted awkwardly. "Pads…"

"Not trying to guilt you." Sirius wiped blindly at his cheeks. "Just…these things all flow one after the other. Takes the wind out of me."

He wasn't sure what to say - what could he say, at this point? The complications were so vast, a complex web of emotions stretching between them. Sirius' letters, like an unspoken binding, keeping them together but apart all at the same time.

"I'm okay," Sirius added at a mumble. "Don't worry about me."

Remus shot him a look. "I do anyway."

Sirius looked up; for a long moment, they just stared at each other in the dim, cool light of his wand. "Yeah?"

Remus swallowed. "'Course. You're my friend."

"Right." Sirius pushed his hair from his face, looked away again. "You're my friend too."

"I know things are still…" Remus trailed off, unsure what the right adjective would be to describe this strange state they'd found themselves in. "But I am here for you. If you need me."

There was a flicker of something like pain on Sirius' face, but it was gone again in a moment, like the snuffing out of a candle. "Thanks, Moony."

Just like the last time he'd sat there on the bathroom floor with Sirius in the middle of a cold and dark night, he felt helpless, all over again; but in many ways, it held a different quality than before. Before, he'd been desperate to help his friend, wishing above all other things that he could do something - anything - to ease the pain that so clearly overwhelmed him.

This time, he felt helpless in himself, helpless against the slew of emotions that washed over him, like the relentless waves of the ocean, every time he looked at Sirius. Helpless in the face of his own anger, his frustration; helpless in the face of that other feeling, the one that burned in his chest, that roiled in his gut, the feeling he didn't want to name. Couldn't name, because it was Sirius, and that anger surely couldn't sit alongside anything as simple as love, or desire; couldn't name, because he sort of had a boyfriend, even if the label wasn't there - someone who smiled just at the sight of him, who warmed him from the inside out.

Helpless, because no matter what Sirius did, nothing seemed to change how Remus felt deep down, under the hurt and the pride and the fury that had slowed to a simmer but still remained, in some small way, and probably always would.

It was embarrassing, wasn't it? To be so far gone?

Sirius seemed to sense something in his thought process, because there was a look in his eyes, now, so much clearer than they had been up till this point. "Are you okay?" he murmured, his gaze fixed on Remus'.

Remus wished he knew the answer to that question. He hadn't been okay for a while, really. Not since the October full, and maybe not even really before that, either. But he swallowed against the lump that seemed to have formed in his throat. "I'm okay," he said, voice hoarse.

Sirius drew in a shaky breath, something that sounded so vulnerable, so unlike the persona he donned every day for the sake of everyone else. "You don't hate me, do you?" he asked, quiet, not seeming to care about the bare need in his voice.

Remus shook his head quickly, desperately, almost. "No," he mumbled. "I...I could never hate you. Even when I wanted to."

Sirius reached out, almost blindly, and let those long, graceful fingers skitter along Remus' jaw; it felt like even that, that simple touch, snatched the air from Remus' lungs. It was touch with intent: cautious yet dangerous. And all the while, he stared at him with those blinding grey eyes, framed with long, dark lashes; eyes that held his attention all too easily. For a moment, his gaze dropped to Remus' lips, and subconsciously Remus tugged his lower lip between his teeth, feeling a stuttering in his heart. They both shifted, just a little, at the same time, a shoulder angled so the other could edge closer, and closer, until-

The bathroom door swung open and James stumbled in, glasses askew and eyes bleary with sleep. "Oh," he said, clearly not awake enough to truly take in what was going on in front of him. "Sorry - woke up, needed a slash..."

Remus swallowed, hard, and stood up like he'd been hauled to his feet. "You go ahead," he murmured, moving quickly away from Sirius - away from what had nearly happened - back towards the dorm. "Night..."

Back in his bed, he closed the drapes, blocking out any remnants of blue light from the bathroom. He lay there and listened as a short burst of low murmuring took place, followed by quiet footsteps, the creaking of a mattress. A few minutes later, the toilet was flushed, and footsteps - less careful this time - stumbled back through the dorm before everything was finally, mercifully, silent.

It took him over an hour to fall back to sleep.

The Great Hall was full – fuller than it had been at the Christingle event, even, and for that, Sirius felt immeasurably proud. He knew that James had worried that they weren't 'out there' enough yet. But, judging from the turnout that evening, it seemed as if they were finally reaching more students, the ones who maybe weren't naturally inclined to be on SWEN's side, and wasn't that the whole point? Finally, some success. Worth the hard work. Well – James' hard work. Sirius had been more of a 'moral support' member of the committee.

A banner (hand-painted, to James' great smugness – he wouldn't stop going on about it) across the hall doors declared 'Welcome to the Hogwarts Swap Shop!' The tables had been laid out in a different formation than usual, and were covered in Muggle books, records, posters and other paraphernalia. Some pupils had brought their own items to swap, and it was heartening to see the discussions going on over the appeal of this band versus that, of this Brontë book versus that Fleming novel. McGonagall and Flitwick were engaged in a lively debate about a record in front of them – it looked like The Beatles, but Sirius couldn't be too sure.

Slated to go for about an hour (James hadn't been sure that enough people would come to make it worth taking longer than that, and had erred on the side of caution, despite Sirius calling him "history's greatest coward" in an attempt to rile him up), they were now closing in on their third hour and most students showed no sign of losing interest. Sirius had wandered around, shown his face – he knew it was helpful for someone as, well, cool as him to be seen at this sort of event. Mainly, though, he'd watched his best friend at work. James had kept busy, milling around, checking everyone was okay, opening up threads of conversation with those who looked a bit daunted or unsure. It was his natural habitat, in a way – like his mother and father, ever the gracious hosts, plying their friends with wine and convincing them to donate money to one cause or another. The Potters could talk the talk and walk the walk. It was one of the many things that Sirius loved about that family.

Sticking to the outskirts of the gathering had other benefits, too: he could watch Remus and Owain, currently across the hall browsing novels and making each other laugh. Remus had done what was so typically him and avoiding Sirius since their whatever-it-was in the bathroom the night before. Sirius had gone to bed feeling frustrated, unsettled, and had woken up in much the same way. Seeing Remus avoid his gaze and hurry away at the first opportunity didn't improve his mood.

He'd have to talk to him eventually. He'd have to face up to the fact that they'd almost… He had to glance away, seeing Ollerton surreptitiously pat Remus' arse; he didn't know if he could stand around much longer, watching that and feeling the way he did. Like he could implode, somehow, from the feelings that burned inside him.

He would stick around, though. No one could say he wasn't loyal to a fault.

"I've got to shift this Beach Boys record," Mary sighed as they strolled along the side of one of the tables. Her friend clutched the vinyl to her chest, scouring the piles in front of her with a solemn expression. "I can't listen to it anymore, I'll lose my mind."

"Alright, calm down," Lily suggested with a raised eyebrow. "I thought you liked that album?"

"I do," Mary replied, pausing to rifle through a stack of LPs. "I just have had enough and it's time to move on."

Lily nodded, letting her gaze idle around the hall. It was no surprise to her that the event was a roaring success – after all, James usually managed to get what he wanted. All the better when it was something that had such benefits for the people around him. She'd wanted to help with the planning for the swap shop, but something in James' behaviour lately – not a coolness, by any stretch, but a distance that left her feeling completely confused – made her sense that she wasn't wanted.

Her gaze found Cadence, quite by accident, and the other girl gave her a bright smile and a wave. "I think I'll go and say hi," Lily told Mary, nodding in the direction of James' girlfriend. Mary shot her a dubious look. "Just for a minute."

"Becoming her best bud won't change the fact that you have strange feelings for her boyfriend," Mary told her lightly.

"Ha, ha," Lily gave her a glare in return. "Good luck with finding a record you like."

"Thanks!"

Mary's winning smile followed Lily as she made her way round two of the tables and over to Cadence's side. Lily felt aware that Mary was probably still watching her – she didn't want to seem like she was trying too hard, because she wasn't – it wasn't like she was desperate to impress the girl. She just felt like she could be more friendly to the Ravenclaw: Cadence was dating one of Lily's friends, after all.

"Hi, Lily," Cadence smiled. "Isn't this amazing?"

"It's great," Lily agreed, looking around them. "You guys did a brilliant job."

"Ah, I hardly did anything," Cadence replied with a modest shrug. "Unless talking James down from a freak-out counts as work."

"I think it does," Lily smirked. "Find anything you like?"

Cadence held up a battered-looking book. "This one looks great – moors, ghosts-"

"Ooh, Wuthering Heights!" Lily noted. "You'll love it – it's one of my favourites."

"Well, then," Cadence beamed, "maybe you can be my guide to Muggle literature – I'm sure there's more I'm missing out on."

See? This was all perfectly normal – perfectly friendly. "I'll make you a list," Lily promised.

James loved being busy. Sitting idle was not in his nature, unless he'd had too many drinks or items of a medicinal bent. He'd been moving around the Great Hall all evening, chatting, encouraging, helping anyone who looked like they needed convincing into a decision.

Yep, he loved being busy. Having said that, he was starting to feel that it would be nice to have a sit down. Maybe a cup of tea.

Around nine o'clock, Sirius wandered over to him, and angled his head meaningfully towards the dais that usually housed the teachers' table. "What do you suppose they are talking about?"

He looked round, and he wasn't proud of the anxious physical reaction borne in him at the sight of Cadence and Lily standing together, chatting. There was really no reason for him to be worried, was there? "They're friends," he shrugged, as casually as he could. "Sort of. They're friendly, at least."

"A touching sight, then," Sirius noted airily. "The new love bonding with the old love."

James scowled. "Fuck off, Padfoot," he said. "And Lily wasn't my old love."

"Oh, good, we're still practising our denial, are we?" Sirius gave him a nudge, before turning to walk away. "One galleon says you can't resist going over there to check they aren't talking about you."

"Fuck off," James muttered again. He waited a minute before resigning himself to a lost galleon, and heading over to the pair. They didn't stop talking as soon as he appeared, which he had to take as a good sign. "Alright, ladies?"

Lily gave him a small, controlled smile – he wasn't sure what to make of it – whilst Cadence's was more open, more beaming. "This is so great, James," Cadence said, reaching out to brush her thumb gently across his cheek. "I told you it would all go well, didn't I?"

"You did," he admitted, and shot a sheepish look at Lily. "I may have been concerned that no one would want to come."

"Nice to know you have some humility in there somewhere," Lily teased. "Honestly, Potter, it's a hit. Everyone I've talked to has said so."

"Now I just have to start thinking about what we can do next," he said.

"Don't start fretting about the next one before this one has even finished," Cadence advised fondly. "You'll drive yourself mad."

"Madder, I think you mean," he gave her a wink.

"You said it, not me," she grinned.

Something caught his eye, and later, he wouldn't be able to put his finger on exactly what it was about Charlotte Swift, just across the room - Charlie, usually so warm and bright and lively - that made him frown. But he watched, a confused clutch in his chest, as she stared blankly ahead of her, and raised her wand, and-

He didn't hear the incantation; the noise around him was too great. He looked up, instinctively, and thought for a moment, is that rain? It glittered as it fell, hauntingly beautiful for the split second before he realised.

Instinct, again, forced his legs into action, and he spun back to face Lily and Cadence, not hesitating before he shoved them down to the ground, covered them with his own body, made the mistake of looking back up-

-and then everything went black.