After two years of visiting the wizarding village on sanctioned trips and almost as long sneaking there through the secret tunnel he and James had found, Hogsmeade had rather lost its novelty. Sirius would have rather spent his Saturday in the dungeon practicing the Dark Arts or working on his Animagus transformation, but there was simply no way his friends would have allowed him to stay behind without asking questions.

On this particular day that presented a problem, because Sirius had no desire to hang out with his friends following his outburst at dinner the night before. They couldn't understand the truth, and he wasn't up to making up a believable lie.

Their walk down to the village was awkward as hell. James was still silent and surly, as Sirius hadn't apologized to him yet. Remus, ever the peacekeeper, tried to engage them both on various topics without any success. (He had even tried to blunder his way through a comment about Quidditch at one point, but that only earned him a glare from James.)

"I'm going to Pippin's," announced Peter as they passed the Three Broomsticks, and he picked up his pace to outstrip his friends and quickly disappeared behind a crowd of taller seventh years.

Sirius rather doubted that Peter needed anything from the potions shop or that he could afford much even if he did, but in any case his friend had chosen his escape well since neither James nor Sirius had any desire to join him.

Sirius didn't bother saying anything to James and Remus. When the other boys paused in front of the pub to decide where to go first, Sirius brushed around them and kept walking, past Honeydukes and Zonko's until he reached the post office. Upon entering he was assaulted by the sound and smell of hundreds of owls in a relatively cramped, though magically expanded, room. There were owls of all shapes and sizes sitting on color-coded shelves that stretched up so high into the rafters that Sirius couldn't make out the colors on the higher shelves.

The man behind the counter seemed remarkably unaffected by either the owls or Sirius's brusque tone when he requested parchment and a quill. With the ridiculously overpriced items in hand, Sirius took himself off to the tall table in one corner of the lobby that seemed intended for such a purpose and pulled out the letter he'd hastily composed to Rabastan the night before. It was full of his confusion and his pleas for an explanation and his longing.

The parchment burst into flame between his fingers.

He watched it burn for a few seconds until his skin became hot enough that he was compelled to let it fall to the floor, where he quickly ground the remains into ashes with the heel of his boot.

If you didn't want me, he wrote on the new parchment, you could have been man enough to tell me to my face rather than jerk me around.

He considered adding "Goodbye" or maybe "Go fuck yourself," but he didn't trust himself to do it without adding another paragraph or three and ending up back where he'd started with his first letter. Quickly, before he changed his mind, he slid the silver snake off his wrist and plonked both it and the letter onto the counter rather harder than necessary.

"How quickly can you have this delivered?" he asked the proprietor, who was apparently a bit more bothered by this behavior than by his earlier rudeness if his glare was anything to go by. Sirius pulled two Galleons out of his pocket and slapped them down next to the bracelet.

The man's gaze flitted down to the gold and then back up to Sirius, before he finally offered a polite upturn of his mouth. "Well, it depends where they're going."

"I'm not sure, but presumably somewhere in England."

"It'll just be a few hours to anywhere in the UK or Ireland, depending on exactly where, of course," the man informed Sirius as he pulled a box from underneath the counter. "There are no guarantees of delivery if the recipient is behind owl repelling wards or is currently in another country. You'd need to declare a valuable item like this and get authorization prior to sending across international borders."

Sirius determinedly tore his eyes away as the man closed the lid of the box.

"Alright." He swallowed down a suspicious lump in his throat. "Delivery to Rabastan Lestrange. Only to Rabastan and only when he's alone."

That was the reason he'd used a post office owl rather than one of the school owls. The school owls couldn't be depended on for time or to follow such specific instructions. He couldn't use his own owl, of course, as Rabastan had been ignoring his correspondence for months and would recognize Aquila on sight.

He walked slowly out of the post office so that he would have time to compose himself. And maybe it was more a result of breathing fresh air and clearing the smell of owl dung out of his nose than anything, but by the time he stepped back into the street his chest felt lighter and there were no more tears stinging the backs of his eyes. He wasn't okay. Not yet anyway. But he would be. He would get over it eventually, he was sure, even if he didn't know when or how. Plenty of people wanted him, after all, and if none would ever know him like Lestrange had then that would just be another upside. It would mean he'd be better able to protect himself in the future.

As luck would have it, Sirius caught sight of Janice with a group of a half dozen Ravenclaw girls coming out of Gladrags Wizardwear just across the street from the post office. They weren't supposed to meet until after lunch, but those plans had been made days earlier, back when he'd thought he would spend the morning with his friends, and he was sure she wouldn't mind changing their plans now.

A couple of fourth years Sirius barely recognized by sight and not at all by name saw him approaching before anyone else in the group did. One averted her eyes and the other blushed beet red but couldn't seem to take her eyes off him. Sirius offered the girl a smile and a wink as he stepped up behind Janice and, just as the rest of the group was turning to look, wrapped his fingers around the handles of the shopping bags she was carrying and gave a gentle tug. Janice's fingers tightened around her bags and she spun to look at him.

"Why, you-!" Her cry died on her lips when she recognized him. She blinked up at him adorably for several seconds before she regained her composure enough to give a scolding, "Sirius!"

"Mm," he hummed noncommittally and leaned down to press a kiss to her frowning lips. She accepted the kiss in a moment.

She was a sweet girl, and he had long known that she cared about him more than he cared about her. He'd always felt a bit bad about it, but now, having learned for himself exactly what it felt like to be in Janice's shoes, he felt even worse for using her to keep up appearances.

Well, not entirely to keep up appearances, he thought as she sighed into his mouth—he did think she was very pretty, and he did like kissing her.

Sirius pulled back with a soft smile and reached again for Janice's shopping bags, which she easily relinquished this time. If his smile didn't reach his eyes, no one seemed to notice.

"Do you want to start our date a bit early?" he asked as he released his wand from his arm holster and shrank her bags so they would fit in his pocket.

Her friends' okay was quickly applied for and granted (though Sirius could swear he'd seen a few of the other girls roll their eyes), and soon enough Janice had grabbed his arm and begun pulling him in the direction of the Three Broomsticks.

"Not Puddifoot's today?" asked Sirius curiously.

"Oh, no." She used the fingers she had wrapped around his wrist to pull his arm around her shoulders. "I know you don't like it."

Sirius not liking the frilly tea shop had never stopped her from making him take her there before, so he was a bit suspicious of her explanation. But he thought it best not to question her any further, lest he prod her into changing her mind.

They ambled slowly down the High Street, boots squelching unpleasantly in the mud as they went, peering into windows and greeting fellow students they passed.

Zonko's had a display of newly released chocolates that could apparently induce anything from hiccups to projectile vomiting, which Sirius was keen to get his hands on, but he noticed James and Remus further back in the shop and decided that he would come back later. Janice expressed a desire to restock her supply of sugar quills, but fortunately Sirius was able to redirect her attention to a passing Slytherin girl he knew she was partnered with in class and then usher her along to the next shop.

In Honeydukes they spent a few minutes sampling the new products on display, but ultimately Sirius levitated a dozen packages of sugared butterfly wings to the counter and basked in the pleased grin that Janice gave him for remembering her preferences.

"They're still the best," she defended softly, a faint blush on her cheeks.

He quirked up one side of his mouth and gave her shoulders a light squeeze. "I didn't say anything."

She was already reaching for her purse when Sirius produced money from his own pocket, but she seemed more than happy to give him another smile and lean her head briefly into his chest as he paid. The shopgirl, for her part, seemed barely able to keep from rolling her eyes at their display. Sirius gave her the cold, blank stare he had copied from his father and grandfather and long since perfected in the mirror (although he'd never admit that to anyone), until her face splotched with embarrassment and she finally turned away as if she had something to do at the other end of the counter.

"You're so mean," Janice declared, giggling as they elbowed their way past the crowd of other students in the shop.

The Three Broomsticks was packed, as always, but Madam Rosmerta had a smile and a booth waiting for Sirius, also as always.

As they passed a group of Hufflepuff girls packed into a booth, Janice wrapped a proprietary arm around his waist and leaned further into his side. The volume of laughs and chatter coming from the booth dampened perceptively as they walked by, then increased to even greater heights almost as soon as they had passed. Sirius looked down at his girlfriend with a raised eyebrow, but she only smiled sweetly back up at him.

Once they had settled into their booth, Janice sitting right up next to him rather than across the table, Sirius adopted as casual a tone as he could manage and said, "You realize she does nothing for me except annoy me, right?"

"Hmm?" Janice diligently perused her menu as if she didn't always order the same things and couldn't be bothered with his conversation. "Who do you mean?"

"Janice," he replied, letting a hint of sternness creep into his voice.

She sat back abruptly with a huff.

"Fine! You may not like Iris, but that doesn't mean I have to like you spending time with her while she flirts with you and spreads nasty rumors about me. And I don't! I don't like it at all!"

"I understand," he told her. He reached out to pick up her hand where she was worrying her napkin between her fingers, entwining his own fingers with hers instead. "What has she said about you?"

Janice seemed reluctant to say, and unfortunately for Sirius he didn't have the opportunity to press her on it before the arrival of his brother and a group of older Slytherins.

"Can we join?" Will Avery slid into the other side of the booth before either Sirius or Janice could respond. "It's a madhouse in here."

Sirius would have said no, given the opportunity, because the last thing he needed was for James to see him spending time with a bunch of Slytherins. He resented it now as much as he ever had, but the fact remained that he was sure James would not understand why he wanted to be friends with evil Death Eaters in training, as he was sure all Slytherins were. Not that he was actually that far off the mark.

As if sensing his brother's dilemma, Regulus told him, "Don't worry about Potter. He got into a fight with Snape and both of them got carted back to the castle by Professor Flitwick."

"What? Why?"

"How should we know?" retorted Regulus as he quickly slid into the last space available next to Nigel Mulciber, who was next to Avery.

Evan Rosier and Barty Crouch eyed one another for several moments, before Evan seemed to give in with a sigh and slid into the booth next to Janice. As Sirius and Evan were both tall, broad boys but Janice and Barty were slight, there would have been sufficient room for three of them, but not quite for all four. They ended with Sirius pressed against the window with Janice in his lap, Rosier pressing close along the other side of his body from knee to shoulder.

He had half a mind to protest that this was his booth first and they could find a spare chair or take themselves off elsewhere, but Janice's absentminded wriggling on his lap and the insistent heat of the other boy next to him was causing a rather significant problem. Sirius found himself suddenly mute from fear that speaking would give him away somehow.

Janice went still once she felt the source of his problem against her bottom, but, bless her, she relaxed back against him a moment later and, as if nothing were at all amiss, asked, "How have you found Hogsmeade, Regulus? Barty?"

At first Sirius tried to pay attention to his brother and his friend extol the virtues of their first Hogsmeade trip, but he found that he didn't much care. He slumped back further into his seat and tried to settle in for a very uncomfortable lunch.

As it turned out, James had seen Snape walking arm-in-arm with Lily Evans and had taken offense, which had led to nasty words between them and even nastier hexes and a month worth of detention for each. Evans made it apparent—in the common room, in the Great Hall, in the corridors, in classes when the professors weren't paying attention—that she blamed James entirely for the altercation.

"She's lost the plot," James declared after enduring her icy glare at lunch on Tuesday afternoon. "Snivellus threw the first hex."

Remus had tried to point out several times since Saturday that Snape never would have thrown any hex in the first place if James hadn't done his level best to drive the other boy to it with words, but such arguments had fallen on deaf ears.

"If you like her so much, maybe you should try not doing things that make her hate you even worse," supplied Peter.

James turned to glare at him, clearly offended.

Sirius elected not to take up the mantle of reason in this case.

"We've got to get to class," he declared, taking a last swig of his pumpkin juice as he stood from the table. "And you had better go if you don't want to be late for Care."

It seemed for a moment that James would rather argue with Sirius than go to class. Sirius had been able to pass off his odd behavior on Friday and Saturday as "family stuff" by claiming that he had been expecting a letter from his parents on Friday that never showed up. However, James had not been happy with his vagueness and Sirius had not trusted himself to come up with any fake details to fill in, so they had an uneasy truce at best. But in the end, with much grumbling, they made their way out of the Great Hall and split up in the entrance hall, James heading out the front door towards Care of Magical Creatures and the rest of them heading up the staircase towards Arithmancy.

They had a double period. Professor Farrah spent the first forty-five minutes lecturing on OWL material, then left them to themselves for the last half of class to work on their group projects. Rosier and Sirius hadn't discussed their project since they'd been paired together the previous week, and Sirius had avoided thinking about it so he didn't really have an idea what kind of project he wanted to do.

"Hi," greeted Rosier as he threw his bag on top of Sirius's table and sat down.

"Hey," returned Sirius.

He had tried to muster up his old resentment of his former friend, but now all he could think about was the other boy pressed tightly against him in their booth at the Three Broomsticks. Rosier hadn't been the primary source of his reaction and had been a completely unconscious participant, but still Sirius was finding it difficult to maintain his anger when the memory of his ill timed erection kept intruding into his thoughts.

Anyway, he had known for a while that he was being more emotional than rational. Loathe as he was now to follow any advice Lestrange and ever given him, it was probably time to let go of this one last past hurt, like he had for his family and for James and Remus.

Rosier sucked his lower lip into his mouth for a moment, then released it and said, words fast, "I've been thinking about what you said, about the Swelling Curse."

Sirius couldn't help it; he winced.

"Ah, about that," he began, suddenly finding a loose thread in the hem of his jumper incredibly interesting, "I, uh… probably shouldn't have said that."

Rosier laughed. He laughed heartily enough that the students around them stopped talking and turned to look, and by the time Professor Farrah had approached from where she had been helping another group in the back of the room Sirius was glaring so hard at Rosier that she naturally assumed Sirius had done something to provoke him.

She scanned them quickly, taking note of Sirius's closed book and still blank parchment and the fact that Rosier hadn't unpacked any supplies from his bag, and declared, "If you're not going to do any work, you can leave and take half points for the lesson today. And two points each from Gryffindor and Slytherin for the disruption."

Sirius stuffed his things haphazardly into his bag and stalked out the door, not sparing a glance for Remus and Peter as he passed and ignoring Rosier's attempts to stop him. He had almost made it to the staircase when Rosier grabbed his bicep from behind.

"Will you just wait?" panted the other boy. "Look, I'm sorry for laughing, but it's just that if that was supposed to be an apology then, well, it was just about the shittiest one I've ever heard."

Sirius stopped but didn't respond.

After a couple of heartbeats, Rosier added, "And I'm even counting my apology to you back in first year."

At that, Sirius finally turned to look at him. Part of his chestnut colored hair had fallen into his face as they rushed down the corridor, and his cheeks were just beginning to flush, but his hazel eyes were shining with hope.

"Your apology was bollocks," Sirius told him, without any real resentment or heat behind the words. "You didn't even say you were sorry; you just complained that the other Slytherins were mad at you because I was mad at you."

Rosier shot him a rueful smile.

"I guess both of us are rubbish at apologies. I am sorry, though. Not because our cousins or your friends were angry at me, but just because I shouldn't have treated you that way." He seemed to notice at that moment that his fingers were still wrapped around Sirius's arm, and he released him and stuck his hand out instead. "Truce?"

Sirius eyeballed the proffered hand for a few moments and briefly considered not taking it, if for no other reason that it would annoy Rabastan if he were to ever learn of it, but ultimately he clasped Rosier's hand with his own and gave it a firm shake.

"Truce. And I'm sorry for the way I acted in class last week. I'm not sorry for blowing up your head in first year, though."

Rosier laughed. "That's fair. I'm sort of glad you mentioned it last week, though, because I think we can actually use it for our project."

They still had about half an hour left before the block was over, which they decided to use to discuss their project after all. There were abandoned classrooms lining the hall, but Sirius directed them to one of the abandoned classrooms one level down, because even though James wasn't around it still wouldn't have been a good idea for Remus to see him with Rosier. He would probably be able to spin what had happened in class into a suitable tale of unfair treatment at the hands of a dastardly Slytherin, which would hopefully help get James off his back about everything else.

Rosier seemed to understand and took it in stride, and by the time the bell chimed signaling the end of the class period they had worked out a great deal of their project. That was more than Sirius could say for his Ancient Runes project with Iris Hornby, and he now actually looked forward to working with Rosier, so all in all he thought the afternoon couldn't have gone any better.

By the end of the week, his progress with Hornby remained limited to her flirting with him and finding not-at-all subtle opportunities to touch him, and the dislike between Janice and Iris had escalated to hostilities between seemingly all of the fourth- and fifth-year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuff girls. Apparently, Janice's friends didn't take kindly to another girl trying to steal their friend's boyfriend, and Iris's friends didn't take kindly to Janice turning their friend's skin a hideous shade of olive green and calling her a jealous slag in front of everybody who happened to be in the courtyard beneath the clock tower on that particular Friday afternoon.

"Oh, I'm so embarrassed!" Janice cried into Sirius's chest early the next morning, her tears soaking into his cashmere sweater. "I've never had a detention or lost points before, and for Professor Flitwick to be the one who witnessed it! What must he think of me?"

Sirius ran his fingers through her thick curls and cradled her head against his chest. "Jan, love, it'll be fine. It's just a few points and one detention, not the end of the—"

"Oh, but it's fine for you to say so!" she interrupted him. "A detention is nothing to you! You're, you're… you!"

"Yes, well—"

She continued, heedless of his speaking, "I could just tell how disappointed Professor Flitwick was with me during detention last night! He's my favorite professor and all I want is for him to respect me and, and, and now he's not going to want to give me references for a Healer program!"

Her words subsided but her tears fell even harder. After several long moments, when Sirius decided that it seemed like she was done talking, he tried again.

"I don't think Flitwick thinks any less of you because of this one thing. Hell, I'm sure the professors see worse things all the time, running a school full of teenagers. Even if he does, you have the rest of this year and two whole years after that to make it up to him, and as long as you keep your nose clean and do as well on your OWLs and NEWTs as he knows you can, I'm sure he'll help you."

Janice sniffled into his sweater. "Do you really think so?"

"Of course, love," he reassured her. Now that she had calmed, he couldn't help but add, "If anything, he was probably pretty impressed by your hex. If he hadn't personally seen to it, Iris would still be green."

That seemed to jolt her out of her terrible mood well enough. She leaned back in his arms and turned her face up to his with the barest of smiles.

"Oh, I must look hideous!" she protested when he leaned down to kiss her, but he would hear none of it.

By the week after that, James seemed to have all but forgotten about their earlier dispute. That may partly have been due to the fact that Sirius graciously let James copy his homework, which James had been struggling to keep up with since his nightly detentions involved things like scrubbing the trophies and removing cobwebs from empty classrooms that left him little time for anything else. Or it may have something to do with the fact that several times Sirius had snuck down and performed the tasks with magic so that he and James could plant dung bombs in Filch's office or charm the dungeon staircase to turn into a slide anytime a Slytherin stepped on the middle stair.

Mostly, though, it had to do with the fact that the first Quidditch match of the year, Gryffindor versus Slytherin, was only a couple of weeks away.

"Vance, you're really good," James informed the scowling girl, whom he had cornered in the Gryffindor common room while she was working on an essay, "but you're untested. We focus more on Chaser drills during practices than on shooting live rounds at the Keeper."

Sirius had no idea what that was supposed to mean and wondered where James had picked up the phrase. If Lily Evans's expression was anything to go by, it must mean something rather funny in the Muggle world.

Emmeline crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, what do you plan to do about it?"

At that, James grabbed Sirius's elbow and propelled him forward like some kind of sacrificial offering. "Sirius here is our best Chaser. You'll have some one-on-one practices together to do Keeper drills."

That was news to Sirius, and if given a choice, he might rather be tossed into a volcano and have done with it. He matched Vance's scowl to show what he thought about James springing this on him in such a way. However, he knew it was useless to argue with James about anything Quidditch related and, ultimately, he had to admit that James had a point. Instead, he turned glinting silver eyes on Vance.

"And here you thought that James wouldn't put you on the team just because I don't like you."

James's expression showed proper offense at the idea that he would have sacrificed the good of the Gryffindor Quidditch team for something as silly as his best friend's feelings.

For her part, Vance turned her scowl on Sirius. "I'm not sure one-on-one practices are such a good idea," she said, cruel anticipation lacing her tone. "Won't your girlfriend get jealous, Black?"

Rather than show his anger that the other girl would talk about Janice like that, Sirius gave her a sparkling grin.

"Vance, I had no idea you feel that way about me." As her face developed vibrant red splotches, he turned to his best mate. "James, since Vance has bravely admitted that she won't be able to keep her hands to herself once we're alone, maybe it's best if Midgen practices with her instead."

Vance stood abruptly, her chair scraping unpleasantly against the stone floor, and spat, "I'll see you after classes tomorrow, Black. Don't be late!"

She stalked towards the stairs to the girls' dormitories without bothering to take her things with her. James nearly howled with laughter, until he noticed the disapproving expression on Evans's face and suddenly decided that it wasn't that funny after all.

Although she studiously avoided looking up at him, Sirius noticed that Mary Macdonald had a quite worried expression on her face as she gathered up Vance's and her own things. He found it curious but not curious enough to do anything about it, so with a shrug he left James to utterly butcher another conversation with Evans and went to join Peter by the fire so that his friend could tell him all about the next day's Potions class.

On Friday three weeks after their first Hogsmeade trip, Sirius was eating dinner for the first time that week without doing homework or studying at the table. Each of their professors was piling on the work without any apparent regard for how much work the other professors were also piling on the fifth year class, and on top of that Sirius had been attending regularly scheduled double Quidditch practices and his additional practices with Vance. He was barely keeping his head above water and dreaded a long weekend writing essays and telling James to fuck off about Quidditch, but he had given himself Friday night off for his own sanity.

Thus it was that he noticed the strange owl flying towards him during the mail delivery before he otherwise would have. The owl was carrying a tiny slip of parchment but nonetheless seemed to be exhausted, as if it had flown a great distance in a short time. He absentmindedly pushed Remus's water goblet towards the poor bird, as it happened to be closer to his hand than his own, and unrolled the letter.

Gorgeous,

1 a.m. outside the Shrieking Shack. Please wait for me if I'm late.

"Who is it from?" asked Remus, drawing Sirius out of his wide-eyed stare at the note.

Sirius had known as soon as he saw the handwriting, but the salutation had torn away any doubt that he may have harbored. Only one person had ever called him that in his entire life. His blood was pounding through his veins, and he felt like if he made any sudden movements the shepherd's pie he'd just eaten would make a reappearance. But there, small but irrepressible in his bruised heart, were relief and hope and the beginnings of forgiveness.

He swallowed and did the best he could to clear any unusual expression off his face, then looked up at his friends.

"My uncle," he replied, aiming for a concerned but not overly agitated tone of voice. "It's just family stuff. I would rather not talk about it."

It must have been believable enough, because his friends all shrugged and turned back to their own meals and their own letters. Remus poured himself another goblet of water with an annoyed look in Sirius's direction, but he seemed content enough let it go.

The rest of the evening was slow torture for Sirius. Not that he would remember any of it, as he seemed to have been living in a dreamlike state the entire time. He couldn't have said what he and his friends had talked about or what he'd read in the novel he'd eventually pulled out of his bag in order to avoid talking to his friends.

He went up to bed at ten o'clock to avoid seeming too fidgety or suspicious, but that turned out to be even worse than sitting in the common room, because alone in his bed all he could do was think and try to avoid checking the time every minute and a half.

At around eleven he panicked a bit because he realized he hadn't showered since after Quidditch practice the night before. Rabastan had surely smelled him in worse states before, but he still found himself all but flying out of bed and into the showers.

While there he experienced another bout of panic, as he was scrubbing himself more thoroughly than he ever had before, that maybe there was something more he was supposed to do just in case anything happened tonight. Rabastan hadn't seemed to mind him before, that one glorious morning they'd had together when he'd… Well, but maybe there was something else. And if Rabastan wanted to venture, well, lower, then surely there was something…?

Did Sirius even want that anymore, he wondered. Rabastan had treated him like rubbish to be discarded and forgotten, so why was he entertaining the idea of sleeping with the man? But maybe he had a good excuse?

What if Rabastan didn't even want that anymore and Sirius was worrying for nothing? Maybe he only intended to break up with Sirius face-to-face, because of the insulting letter Sirius had written him? But the note he'd written had been so sweet, for lack of a better term, with the endearment and even saying "please."

But maybe that was just to draw Sirius out to Hogsmeade, to lower his guard, because Rabastan knew he wouldn't come otherwise?

Oh, Merlin, what if Rabastan was going to break up with him? Wouldn't it be worse to have it confirmed that to just hear nothing?

Sirius sank down the wall of the shower and let the water pound against his downturned head and drip from his hair onto the rest of his body.

You're pathetic, Black. Just pathetic, he thought to himself, in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Grandfather Arcturus's. Why are you letting the man reduce you to this?

He seriously considered not going. For about one point three seconds, because obviously he was going to go.

Sirius managed to pull himself together in time to dry himself off and make sure he looked as devastatingly gorgeous as possible before his friends came upstairs to bed. He sat against his headboard with his curtains drawn and listened to their chatter and the sounds of their nighttime routines until, mercifully, the noise stopped and not long after he could hear Peter's snores and James's occasional mumbles in his sleep.

There was a breathless, terrifying moment where he thought that James was going to wake up and catch Sirius red-handed rifling through his trunk, but then James flopped onto his other side, mumbling "No, not the Wollongong Shimmy," and settled back into deep sleep.

At any other time Sirius would have been amused that James even dreamed about Quidditch, but tonight he was just relieved to grab the Invisibility Cloak and hightail it out of the Tower.

He emerged from the tunnel he and James had discovered into almost pitch blackness. He glanced up and confirmed that there was only a sliver of visible moon—tomorrow would be the start of the new moon. He probably wouldn't have even needed the Cloak at all, but nonetheless he was grateful for the extra security when he crossed the street next to Madam Puddifoot's and noticed a few patrons and one server still inside even at this hour. As the only entirely wizarding settlement in Britain, Hogsmeade served not only as a welcome visit for Hogwarts students but also a popular destination for of-age wizards of a Friday night.

Sirius skirted around the tea shop and into the woods on its other side, following the tree line around the main residential area of the village until, finally, he crossed deeper into the trees and emerged on the other side in front of the Shrieking Shack.

He almost didn't see Rabastan, but there, standing near the wall of the house nearest the trees, was a figure facing the road. Sirius approached from the side of him, thinking to take him by surprise, but he hadn't gotten very far before Rabastan straightened quickly and turned in Sirius's general direction.

"Who's there?" he called.

Sirius had never heard that tone of voice from him before—he sounded tightly wound and as if he intended to begin blindly sweeping the area with Killing Curses if he didn't get a satisfactory response.

Sirius pulled the Cloak off his head. "It's me. You dick."

"Sirius," the other man croaked.

It was impossible to make out anything in the dark besides Rabastan's general outline, until the other man was practically right in front of him, which was perhaps why the wellspring of Sirius's anger and hurt didn't rise out of him until after Rabastan was close enough to reach out and touch his shoulder. Before he knew what he was doing, Sirius had reared back and punched Rabastan squarely in the face with as much strength as he could muster.

In the darkness and, of course, because of the Invisibility Cloak still covering most of Sirius's body, Rabastan was taken completely by surprise. He staggered backwards, only barely managing to stay on his feet and not laid out in the mud.

"You hit me!" he cried, his voice a good octave higher than normal.

Sirius cradled his throbbing hand against his stomach. "Of course I hit you! What did you expect?"

"I'm sorry," Rabastan all-but moaned, clearly miserable. He noticed Sirius nursing his hand and, heedless of the danger, approached again and reached for him. "Merlin, baby, I'm so sorry…"

"Don't, don't call me that," insisted Sirius, snatching his arm away again at once.

"Sirius… Sirius, please…"

"How could you treat me that way? Months without a peep from you—months! At the very least I thought we were friends and you'd have the decency to, oh I don't know, send an owl letting me know that you don't want this anymore. Do you?" Sirius demanded, with what would have been a truly impressive glare had Rabastan been able to see it in any detail.

"I love you," blurted the other man.

Sirius blinked. And again.

Rabastan took the opportunity to take another step closer. "Just come with me, please. There's a house where we can talk without worrying about anyone happening upon us. Give me a chance to tell you everything."

Sirius swallowed. "Al-alright."

Isn't that why he'd come, after all?

He let Rabastan lead him back through the woods he'd passed through a couple of minutes earlier. On the other side, they approached the rear door of the last house on the street, which was rather close to the tree line, and Rabastan led him into a small kitchen that seemed like it would be cheery enough in the daylight hours. They proceeded across the small entry hall and into sitting room, Rabastan checking the doors and windows as they went.

Sirius was tired. Not just because he should have been asleep already, but also because he was simply emotionally drained. He dropped himself onto the sagging sofa that took up most of the small room and watched Rabastan apply Sticking Charms to the drapes.

"Bellatrix knows," Rabastan began, his voice hoarse, still facing the window. "But you probably know that, after how she acted the last time I saw you. I tried to be careful not to flaunt it in her face, but I didn't exactly hide it either. I thought she was okay with my being gay. Not thrilled but accepting, you know? My brother wouldn't have married someone who acted like she was disgusted by me. I guess I thought that she would accept us, as well."

"She doesn't." It wasn't a question. Sirius had know that she didn't since August.

Rabastan's head dropped, but he still didn't turn around.

"No. She was willing to tolerate a faggot brother-in-law, but she will not tolerate me going after her baby cousin and, more importantly, the heir to her house. Narcissa agrees. They went to my mother."

"Fuck," Sirius blurted before he could stop himself.

"I didn't know," continued Rabastan. "I knew Bellatrix was angry, but I didn't suspect that she would… violate me. She put a truth serum in my dinner, one night when Roddy and my father were off on a mission for the Dark Lord, and then suddenly my mother was there with her."

Sirius felt like he couldn't breathe, but he lurched up from the sofa and crossed the room in a moment. He may not know the rest of the story yet, but he knew enough to know that Rabastan hadn't thrown him over or hurt him on purpose. He ran his palm up Rabastan's back and to his shoulder, tugging gently until the man turned and caught him in an embrace.

Rabastan rested his chin on Sirius's shoulder and wrapped his arms around him in return.

He let out a deep sigh. "I've built up a tolerance to a lot of truth serums. Not enough to avoid answering completely or to tell a lie, but enough to avoid giving details. That's when Bellatrix used Legilimency on me. I'm a decent Occulumens and normally could have fended her off, but under the influence of a truth serum… She saw it all, Siri. Everything. About me. About us. About you."

Sirius released the breath that he may have been holding the entire time. "What did she do?"

"Nothing yet, but they know too much, not just about me but about you and even about your father, and Alphard and Antonin…. I'm afraid what they might do if they had to, or who they might tell. My father stands with my mother on this, and so does my, my brother…."

"I'm so sorry, Rab," Sirius muttered into his shoulder. He knew that Rabastan may not care overmuch what his parents or sister thought of him, but his brother's defection would be a cut that ran deep.

"For myself, if my parents were to disown me I would have nothing. I don't have any money or resources of my own, and I don't have any friends who would be in a position to defy my parents. I wouldn't be permitted to leave my current duties to get a job if it didn't benefit the Dark Lord, and I don't have any post-Hogwarts training or experience to allow me to get a job he would find acceptable. I mean, I don't think torturing Mudbloods is relevant experience for the Auror Department. For you, I don't want to do anything to risk your position in your family."

He sighed again and kissed the side of Sirius's head. "They've been watching me and tracking my owl and your owl. That post office owl you sent was the first letter I got from you, and I sort of kidnapped the bird so that when I had a chance I could get a message back out to you. There's a raid tonight, so I sent the owl and while everybody else was distracted I snuck away and came here."

Sirius was floored. He was so shocked that he couldn't seem to form a complete thought. Minutes passed, and they held each other in silence.

Eventually, he mustered himself to ask, "What are we going to do, then?"

The other man laid a kiss into his hair. "Sirius, you know we have to end this."

Sirius felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. It was as he had feared, the outcome he had wanted to avoid by just not showing up tonight. But he tried very hard to stay calm.

"I don't want to end it," he whispered, because if he said it any louder he'd end up shouting it.

"I don't want to either, Siri," Rabastan whispered back. He stroked up Sirius's back and cupped his hand around the back of Sirius's neck, then leaned back to look him in directly in the eyes. "Someday, we'll be together. Maybe it won't be until you're your own man and I can be your kept boy," he added with a grin, "but it'll be someday."

"Oh, good, so I can expect us to get back together by the time I'm a hundred," griped Sirius, who was caught between crying and laughing.

Rabastan shared his sad smile. "You never know what'll happen. Maybe after you're married and have produced a new little Black heir, nobody will care what you do. Hell, maybe after I marry nobody will care what I do either."

"You're getting married?" he cried, dismayed.

"Well, no," replied Rabastan, "but I would, if it would help. They sell potions to help me get it up, if it comes to that."

Sirius couldn't help the way his lip curled at the thought. A laugh escaped Rabastan's throat at his expression, and he leaned down to capture Sirius's lips with his own. As it always did with them, the kiss soon evolved from an innocent press of lips to a slick tangle of tongues and teeth. Rabastan tried to pull back after a minute or two, but Sirius had made up his mind—he grasped the front of Rabastan's robes (Death Eater robes, he realized absently) and yanked him closer, sucking the other man's tongue firmly into his mouth.

Rabastan leaned back into him, seemingly content to continue what they were doing, until Sirius started to tug at the fastenings of his robes.

"Mmm," Rabastan moaned and pulled his mouth away from Sirius's. "Siri, what're you doing?"

"I want to have sex with you," Sirius announced calmly, then promptly attached his lips to Rabastan's throat.

If he didn't know any better, he'd have called the sound that Rabastan made a whimper.

"Siri… Siri… Sirius!" he finally cried, forcibly holding one of Sirius's wrists with one of his hands and using the other on the side of Sirius's face to push him back so they could look at each other. "You know I want you more than anything, but we really shouldn't."

Sirius offered a sad but genuine smile and turned his face to kiss the palm cupping his cheek.

"I know it won't change anything, but I want it to be you, the first time."

Rabastan did not look entirely convinced by that argument, but he was not a good man, and it would have taken an excellent man to say no. Sirius was counting on his general lack of anything resembling a moral compass.

As it turned out, he was destined only for disappointment tonight. Rabastan pulled back even further, removing even his hand from Sirius's face.

"I can't," he declared, shaking his head as if Sirius wouldn't have understood his words alone and taking another step back. "I just can't."

Sirius couldn't keep the frown off his face, but he tried (and, he thought, succeeded) to keep his tone even when we said, "Rab, I don't understand. I-I know that it isn't perfect, and, and maybe you'd rather wait until I'm sixteen, but my birthday is later this month and there isn't going to be another—"

His voice broke to say it aloud, and he had to turn his gaze away from Rabastan's glittering blue eyes to keep any tears from spilling out. He couldn't complete his thought aloud.

"It—" began Rabastan, but he broke off abruptly as well, apparently having the same problem as Sirius. Eventually, Sirius heard him take a deep but shaky breath. "It isn't anything about you, Sirius. It's about me. I, I… Fuck, Sirius, I love you. Do you understand? I love you."

"Rabastan…"

But the other man rendered Sirius mute with a shake of his head. He finally moved closer again, back within reach, and took both of Sirius's hands within his larger ones.

"I understand that you want to be with me now because we don't know when we will ever have another chance, but for me this is difficult enough as it is. I wouldn't be able to have you and then walk away. It would be torture."

Sirius still did not understand. He went over Rabastan's explanation forward and backward in his mind without gaining any further clarity. But he had never seen his friend in this state before—the expression on his face was downright haggard, and his eyes were shining with repressed tears. Even if he didn't understand, and even if he thought he would explode with want, what Sirius wanted more was to put Rabastan at ease.

He gently disentangled one of his hands and laid it on top of Rabastan's. "I understand, Rab. It's okay."

Rabastan offered a wan smile. "Nothing about this is okay."

A clock somewhere in the house chimed the hour, and Sirius was surprised that it had already been an hour since he had met Rabastan at the Shrieking Shack. Rabastan seemed equally as surprised.

"I have to go, Sirius," he explained in little more than a whisper. "I need to be seen during the attack and certainly I need to be there in time to Apparate back with the others."

"Oh," he replied numbly. "I didn't realize… You were part of an attack?"

Rabastan released his hands. "I'm supposed to be. It's better if you don't know any details."

Sirius could only nod.

"Here. Take this—it's yours." The older man produced a familiar serpent made of bright silver from the pocket of his robes. "Please."

Sirius was certain that he had heard the word "please" more from Rabastan tonight than he had for the entire rest of their friendship together.

He took the cuff with trembling fingers. When his fingers inadvertently brushed Rabastan's, they both seemed to stop breathing for a moment. Sirius barely had time to glance up and catch Rabastan's eye before the man leaned forward and pressed a hard, bruising kiss to his lips. He pulled back moments later and pressed his forehead against Sirius's.

"I will do whatever I can to fix this. Whatever it takes. However long it takes."

Sirius could feel Rabastan's breath against his face as he made his promise, but in the next second Rabastan had pulled back and turned away.

He stood frozen in place until Rabastan disappeared out the door, which spurred him into movement. He rushed across the entry hall and into the kitchen in time to see the back door close. Sirius bounded across the kitchen in two steps and flung the door open, but by then Rabastan had already reached the edge of the lawn.

He couldn't call out for him. It was too great a risk in such a populated area.

Rabastan turned to look back, but all Sirius could see was the bright flash of his Death Eater mask in the darkness before he disappeared into thin air.

Author's Note: Oof—I promise that hurt me more than it hurt you.

As you can see, I have not abandoned this story. Real life has just been kicking my butt, and also I probably just didn't really want to write what you just read. I have really appreciated all of the comments, and every time I got a new one it made me open this chapter and at least stare at the page, maybe try to write a few lines. Hopefully now I have gotten over the hump and can continue much more regularly.

Thank you for all of your support!