Sirius Black went to the Hospital Wing the next day.

He knew it was a very girly thing to do, so he didn't go there very often. Sirius was strong, stubborn, and almost never got hurt (and besides, he was a little bit bothered by blood, and the Hospital Wing made him a teensy bit nervous—but only a little!). In fact, Sirius didn't think he'd ever voluntarily gone there: James had dragged him every time he had gone to see Remus.

Ugh, Sirius was such a git.

See, the annoying thing about being Sirius was that he knew he was being a git—after all, hindsight was 20/20. Sirius, looking back, could see how rude and belittling he'd been. Most of the time, he didn't care… but he also went through periods where he did care. Sirius Black was not a sympathetic person by any means, but he did occasionally have bouts of painful sympathy that he didn't quite know what to do with.

See, when he was swept up in the moment, Sirius didn't care about other people's feelings. He did what he wanted. He said what he wanted. But, looking back, sometimes he felt bad about that. Looking back, sometimes he thought maybe he should have been kinder to Peter. Looking back, he thought that perhaps Remus didn't really appreciate Sirius' rude and unfeeling attitude toward sensitive subjects. Whenever Sirius felt this way, he vowed to change—to do better—to be a good person.

But, when he was swept up in the moment, Sirius didn't care about other people's feelings. And that was a problem.

Now Remus was gone, the world was confusing and strange, and Sirius was having another weird bout of sympathy. Usually, he could go to James and talk it over. James would crack a few jokes, Sirius would laugh, James would tell him that it was all going to be okay, and then Sirius would feel normal again. Okey-dokey. Peaches and roses. Fine and dandy.

But now James was at Quidditch practice.

At first, Sirius wasn't bothered by that. All his best conversations with James were late at night, anyhow, since both Remus and Peter slept like the dead. Sirius figured he'd just wait until James got back, and then they could talk.

But then Sirius realized that James Potter, like he so often was, was busy all day. When he got back from Quidditch, he was going to go to the library to do his homework (in disguise, of course, because James found it embarrassing to be caught doing schoolwork). Then he was going to spend time with his Quidditch friends. Then he was going to send Remus that mirror (Sirius' mirror!) via owl post. Then he was going to research the next step of the Animagus process. Again. James' day was all planned out, and Sirius wasn't part of it… and he didn't think he could wait until nighttime.

It looked like Sirius was going to be alone all day today, even though he was in his time of need.

Thanks a lot, Prongs.

Sirius had realized all this earlier that day, after he'd woken up alone in the dormitory. Well, he hadn't been alone, per se—Peter had been there, but Peter was rather annoying most of the time, and Sirius didn't really want to deal with him.

What a way to spend a weekend: in a weird mood, alone, and with nothing to do. Sirius flopped back onto his pillow, too awake now to go back to sleep. His Assistant Headmaster duties weren't even until later that day. He was so bored. Remus was never all that entertaining (not as much as James, anyhow), but he was better than this.

Boredom was the perfect breeding ground for bad feelings, so—while lying there—the feelings of guilt washed over Sirius… and other feelings, too, though he didn't know what to call them. He started to feel even more alone, and then his stomach started twisting up in little knots.

He thought about how alone Remus was all the time. He thought about how Remus was alone at that very moment.

And then he thought about James' grand plan, and he thought about the Mandrake leaf in his mouth, bringing him closer and closer to fulfilling that master plan. He thought about what was about to come next.

Watching Remus transform. Making sure Remus wasn't alone on full moons.

Sirius hated being alone, and he knew Remus hated being alone, too… but Sirius wasn't sure he was ready to do that.

Subsequently, Sirius decided it was high time to find out whether he was ready or not. He was a Gryffindor, after all. He was brave enough to do this… and also bored enough to do this. Honestly. There was nothing else to do.

So Sirius Black made his way over to James' trunk and pulled out the book that John Questus had given James back in first year. It was a simple textbook about werewolves, but John had marked the whole thing up with corrections, extra information, graphs, and notes. Sirius flipped through the thing, feeling even more awful and ill as he read.

There were photographs in the book. Moving photographs. Photographs of awful, awful things.

There was a photo of a werewolf scrunched up in pain, the moonlight looming over him, a terrified look in his eyes. He was a grown man, yet there were tears streaming down his cheeks as he looked up at walls of his enclosure, face pale, quivering like mad. Next to it, Questus had scrawled, Quivering before full moons, caused by peaked adrenaline and heart rate. Gets progressively worse until moonrise, peaks a several seconds before, and then stops altogether as the nerves and brain begin the process of the transformation, forcing the heart to slow rapidly. Visible aspects of the change don't begin for 7-17 seconds.

Once a month, that was Remus.

Sirius flipped the page, only to come face-to-face with a close-up of a werewolf's hand—the bones were shifting underneath the skin, and Sirius could see them doing so. The veins twisted, the nails lengthened, and the fingers were jumping and curling as if the pain was unbearable… because it probably was.

Rare mid-transformation photograph, Questus had written. Muscles/bones/tendons/veins/nerves/skin reforming. Extraordinarily painful. Heart often stops briefly, lungs constrict, every nerve twists in place. Addition of claws make the transformation more uncomfortable, as the werewolf must avoid hurting/scratching himself in the midst of incredible pain. Harder than it looks.

Sirius cringed. He flipped another page.

It was a photograph of a werewolf, but not on the full moon. The photo depicted a man wearing nothing but pants and a hospital bracelet, standing in front of a plain white backdrop and looking at the sky in embarrassment. Scars wrapped around his body, fresh and old, horribly painful and deep. There were jagged bite and claw marks as well as horribly distorted portions of his body—chunks of skin missing—broken blood vessels and bruising. The man was positively gaunt.

What Questus had written, though, was worse. This is Elios Warrington, age thirty-two. He was bitten by a werewolf about ten years prior to submitting himself to the Ministry as an experimental subject (it was the only way he could afford to feed himself). He killed himself a year later.

Sirius closed the book and stuffed it back into James' trunk, positively sick to his stomach. That man had been bitten by a werewolf only ten years prior? Remus was thirteen, and he'd be fourteen in two months. If he'd been bitten when he was… oh, how old had he been? Sirius didn't know. That was the problem of being unsympathetic—Sirius didn't listen to anyone else's problems very carefully, and he hated himself for it sometimes.

That was when Sirius decided that he needed to go to the Hospital Wing, because he honest-to-goodness thought he might vomit his stomach out, which seemed like it could be fatal.

So here he was, lying on a bed in the empty Wing. Poppy was standing over him, frowning. "I don't see anything wrong with you," she said. "You're pale and shaking, but the diagnostic charm didn't show anything. Is it some sort of spell gone awry?"

"No," said Sirius. "How long has Remus been a werewolf?"

Poppy sighed. "Ah," she said. "I understand, Mr. Black. We're all worried about him right now. But there's no use fretting, because—"

"No! How long has Remus been a werewolf?!"

"If you're worried about the life expectancies you may find in books, I assure you that they are not very accurate."

"Please answer me, Madam Pomfrey."

Sirius wasn't sure whether it was because he'd called Poppy Madam Pomfrey instead of Poppy, because he looked absolutely beside himself, or if it was just something in his voice, but Poppy's face immediately softened.

"Hmm," she said. "I believe it's been… nine years next month. But, again, werewolf life expectancies are often much longer than the statistics imply…."

"I feel ill," said Sirius, clutching his stomach. He thought about that man in the photo. He thought about how thin, how scared, how damaged he looked. Remus was like that. Remus had been through nearly as much as he had—and at a younger age, too. That was Remus, and it was terrifying.

"I hate it," said Sirius. "I didn't know something so terrible could happen to a person. I didn't know that was even on the table. I thought it was just pain and death, and that was the worst that could happen, but here Remus is with the constant, recurring pain and the impending death and also the prejudice. It's not fair."

Poppy hummed. "I assume you want to enquire about his health like Mr. Potter did a couple months ago?"

"What?"

"Potter came here at the beginning of the school year; said he'd been researching werewolves over summer holidays."

"Oh, yeah. He was. Was absolutely annoying about the whole thing."

"He asked me how Remus was doing, how he felt about it all, and how long I expected him to live."

"What did you say to that last one?"

"I said it was unpredictable, especially in a time of war…."

"That's the thing!" Sirius threw his hands into the air, angry at the world. "I mean, that's the thing I'm worried about. I know I should be feeling bad for Remus and all that, but I'm not. Not really. He's fine at handling it, even though it's awful."

"That he is."

"But… I dunno. The world is such a scary place, isn't it? Wasn't Craff mutilated or whatever?"

"Yes."

"And countless others, I'm assuming."

"There have been many rather gruesome Death Eater attacks, yes."

"And now they're threatening us! They're blaming Remus. They've painted the top of our train, they're trying to make us grow up in an environment of fear—that's what Remus said they were doing after Craff died—and we're all in danger. I could end up like Remus, couldn't I?!"

"It's highly unlikely."

"But I could! So many awful things could happen to me and my friends! I'm… argh! I know it's dumb to be scared, but I am."

Poppy sighed, and then she sat at the foot of Sirius' bed. "I've had many students come to the Hospital Wing with the same complaints, you know," she said. "People can very easily become physically ill when confronted with such intense emotion."

"Yeah, and it's worse for me because I've got a weak stomach, James says. But I don't like that word. I'm not weak. I don't think I am, at least."

"Not at all," she promised. "You're in a hard situation. This was part of the reason Remus didn't want you to find out, you know: he knows how gruesome and awful it can be, and he didn't want any of you to have to experience that, even second-hand."

"Yeah, well… me knowing helps him, so I don't care. Me not knowing doesn't mean it doesn't exist."

"And that, Mr. Black, is exactly why you're not weak. It's not about what you feel; it's about what you choose to do in spite of it, because strength is an action more so than it is a state of being. If you continue to be Sirius Black, even in a world that tries to push you into a box, then you've succeeded."

"That's what Remus does, isn't it?"

Poppy grinned. "I assure you, Lupin has never succeeded in being Sirius Black. Not even once."

Sirius laughed, and the knots in his stomach untangled a bit. "Is Remus going to be okay? He'll come back to Hogwarts, right?"

"Right. As soon as Professor Dumbledore gets this whole mess cleared, he'll come right back."

"And… what do I do? To help my stomach? I get sick every time I think about such things, and since attacks are becoming more common, I don't want to get sick over the stupid Daily Prophet every day… I suppose that's the real reason I came. Do you have a cure for a weak stomach?"

"I'm afraid I don't."

"James says I need to be desensitized."

Poppy paused. "And… how does he plan to desensitize you? By stabbing people in front of you?"

Sirius laughed. "I didn't know you made jokes, Poppy! No wonder Remus likes you!"

"Answer the question, Black."

"Oh… he's just trying to get me to face things rather than running away."

"There's nothing wrong with running away sometimes."

"Yeah, but facing things when I don't need to is good conditioning for facing things when I do need to."

"Very wise." Poppy smiled and then handed Sirius a glass of water. "Sometimes the only thing you can do is drink some water and wait it out, Sirius."

"Drink some water and wait it out," repeated Sirius. "Yes. That's what I'll do about the war, yeah? Drink some water. Wait it out. It'll solve everything. Voldemort will die, just because I've had some water and waited it out, right?"

"Exactly. Would you like a Calming Draught?"

"No, thanks. I'd rather just drink some water and wait it out," said Sirius.

So that's what he did. And, five minutes later, he was finished, because sitting still and waiting it out had never really been Sirius' thing.

Sirius wandered the corridors, looking for something interesting to do, when he nearly ran directly into a man he'd never seen before.

The man had brown hair, a bit of a bored expression, and was holding a notebook in one hand and a silver pen in the other. On second thought, he looked familiar, though Sirius couldn't quite place him.

"Oh. You must be either Sirius or Regulus," said the man flatly. "You look exactly like Orion. Tie askew, so I'm assuming Sirius. The untidy one. Right?"

Sirius nodded, stunned. "How do you know my dad?"

"Work with him. I'm from the Ministry. Here to investigate a dangerous threat."

Anger rose up in Sirius' throat, and the words came out before he could stop them. "There's no dangerous threat!" he said angrily. "Don't be stupid! Get out of here!"

The man looked up at Sirius, eyebrows raised. "My, my. You're quite the hothead. Nearly ran into me, didn't apologize, and now you're insulting me for doing my job? Should I tell your father?"

"Don't care," said Sirius dismissively. "He'll never like me anyway, so what's a little more disobedience? Who even are you, anyway?"

"Name's Ragfarn."

"And you work at the D.R.C.M.C., right? With the Werewolf Registry or something like that?"

"Indeed I do. Head of the Werewolf Department."

Sirius had seen Ragfarn around, and he'd definitely heard his father talking about the man—and Remus had talked about him, too, which was why Sirius was nearly certain this man was here to investigate his friend. There was also a kid at Hogwarts with the same surname, he was pretty sure. "Do you have a son?" he asked.

"I do. Edmund. Have you met him?"

"No."

"Hm. Well, if you've nothing else to say to me, Mr. Sirius Black, then I shall be continuing my investigation. No matter what you say, there really is something dangerous roaming about…."

Suddenly, a horribly dangerous, incredibly stupid idea popped into Sirius' head—an idea that Remus certainly wouldn't approve of.

But Sirius Black lived for horribly dangerous, incredibly stupid ideas that Remus wouldn't approve of. That was why he had a Mandrake leaf in his mouth, after all.

"I can help," he said automatically. "Do you need to interview anyone? Do you need to be shown around the castle? I'm told I'm a great tour guide." He grinned. "I'm sure I can help with something, Mr. Ragfarn!"

Ragfarn pursed his lips, evidently considering. "Hm," he said. "Yes, that might be helpful. But I'm sending you away if you get too annoying, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear!"

"Wonderful. Follow me."

Sirius scurried after Ragfarn, all the while formulating horribly dangerous, incredibly stupid ways to sabotage the Ministry investigation.

The day had just gotten a whole lot less boring.

"First, I must ask you about any suspicious people you've seen recently," said Ragfarn. His silver pen was poised over the notebook, ready to take notes. "Please don't leave anything out."

"Oh, all right," said Sirius. He paused for a moment. "There is someone, actually."

"Yes?"

"He has brown hair, and he's usually sneaking about—skulking quietly like he's up to something."

Ragfarn was writing furiously. "What does his face look like?"

"Shifty."

"Shifty?"

"Yeah, that's all I can tell you. I don't really know how to describe a face. Long nose, I suppose. Hazel eyes."

"Hazel eyes?" Ragfarn's eyes lit up. They were hazel, though far closer to green than Remus' were. "Tell me about this person's build."

"Skinny," said Sirius. "Not tall, but not super short either. Pretty average, height-wise."

"In your year?"

"A little older than me, I think, though he's never told me his exact age."

"Do you think this person could have been born in March?"

Oh, this was disgusting. They really were investigating Remus, even though there was absolutely no basis for doing so. That was completely unfair. "I'm not sure," said Sirius. "If he hasn't told me his age, then he definitely hasn't told me his birthday. We're not particularly close, he and I."

"Where was the last place you saw him?" asked Ragfarn.

"I've seen him in the corridors. I saw him out here, too."

"Recently?"

"Yeah."

"How recently?"

"Today."

"Do you think he's still here?"

Sirius looked directly at Ragfarn and said, "Yeah, probably."

Ragfarn made a pleased humming noise and then stood up. "Let's look for him together, shall we?"

"Sure," said Sirius. "By the way, what House were you in?"

"I was in Slytherin," said Ragfarn, but he wasn't paying much attention. He was currently looking out at the sea of students, many of whom were either flying broomsticks or sitting in the grass and studying something or other. For January, it was quite sunny.

"Cool," said Sirius, even though Slytherins were never cool.

"What House is your mysterious person in—do you know? That could narrow things down quite a bit."

"Slytherin," answered Sirius.

"Ah." Ragfarn froze, his face hardening, and Sirius thought for an instant that he'd figured out what Sirius was trying to do. But then he said, "Are you sure it wasn't Gryffindor?" and Sirius realized that the change in facial expression was simply because Sirius' statement hadn't matched up with his Remus Lupin profile. Disgusting.

"I'm not totally sure, actually," said Sirius with a shrug. "I never saw him Sorted, and I never saw him in his Hogwarts robes. I'm just going off of what others have told me."

"Ah, I see," said Ragfarn with a relieved chuckle. "What can you tell me about that tree over there, Sirius? Have you ever noticed anything amiss about it?"

"The mysterious person that I was talking about earlier seems to be really interested in it."

"Oh, really?" mused Ragfarn. He began walking around the tree, a safe enough distance away that the leisurely-waving branches could not reach him.

"Yeah, he's always walking near it. Looks like he's got something to hide. And he's pretty ugly, too."

Ragfarn chuckled as he scribbled in his notebook. "This is very helpful, Sirius. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm a very helpful person."

"I've no doubt. Now, what else can you tell me about this mysterious person? What makes you suspect him? Has he ever done anything illegal?"

"He tends to sneak places uninvited, sort of like he's trying to spy on someone."

"I see…" Ragfarn wrote that down, the tip of his tongue poking out. "What else?"

"He's not always very nice. A bit snappish sometimes."

"Hmm… yes, a temper. That makes sense."

"He's a bit stupid. Doesn't always see what's right in front of his face."

"Indeed… blindly following a fixation, would you say? Almost a bloodlust?"

"Yeah, definitely. But, at the same time, he's sort of cunning. Shifty, like I said before. Tries to manipulate people all the time."

"I see," said Ragfarn, and he wrote it all down. "You're sure you don't know his name?"

"Not his full name, no, but I think it starts with an R," said Sirius.

Ragfarn lit up once again. "That is very, very helpful," he said. "Thank you very much."

"Glad I could be of service. Do you think you'll catch the person at fault soon? We're all terrified. Kids are getting stomachaches from the constant terror left and right."

"Are they all afraid of this mysterious person?"

Sirius looked around at his classmates. "I don't think so. For the most part, they don't seem to notice him… but I think a lot of them are rather curious, because he often looks quite out-of-place. Do you think you'll catch him?"

"I think so," said Ragfarn, smiling broadly. "Yes, I think we will. In fact, I think I have a very good idea as to who it is. I'm going to go speak with Albus Dumbledore now—going to see if I can get permission to search his dormitory."

"An excellent plan," said Sirius.

Once Ragfarn was out of sight, Sirius rushed upstairs and grabbed James' Invisibility Cloak—then, as quickly as he could, he ran to Albus' office. He arrived just in time, and he managed to slip through the doors after Ragfarn.

As soon as Albus saw Ragfarn, his face darkened a bit. "Dav," Albus said, and the usual whimsy in his voice was gone. "How are you?"

"Wonderful. I've collected some evidence already, and I think the evidence warrants a search on Remus Lupin's dormitory. We'd like to look for anything potentially illegal, dangerous, or indicative of a greater plan. Afterwards, I'd like to question him, preferably at Ministry headquarters. It has the proper supplies."

Albus held up a hand, frowning. "You've already collected evidence?" he said. "You aren't even supposed to arrive for another twenty minutes."

"I thought I'd get a head start. Now, it seems to me that allowing a werewolf on Hogwarts grounds is having an adverse effect on the students, even though they don't know what he is, and…"

"Dav, this is illegal. You were not supposed to be searching Hogwarts without my presence."

"I got a warrant," said Ragfarn impatiently as he flashed a piece of parchment at Albus. "Technically, I don't even need your permission to search the boy's room, but it would be nice if you could kindly coax the other students out of it. Who rooms with him?"

Albus sighed. "James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and Sirius Black. You should know that none of Remus' things are in that room, though—I do believe he's taken everything home. I see no point in searching his room, Dav."

Ragfarn had gone quite pale at the mention of Sirius' name. "Did you say Sirius Black?" he asked.

"Why, yes."

"But… but Sirius Black gave me my evidence! He was talking about a mysterious person who was very clearly a dangerous werewolf, but he said he didn't know many details."

Suddenly, Albus smiled. "Let me see your notes, Dav," he suggested, and Sirius struggled to contain his laughter.

Sirius carefully walked to the other side of Albus' desk, being extremely careful to be totally silent, and peered over his shoulder at Ragfarn's notes.

Brown hair

Suspiciously skulks

Looks like he's up to something

Shifty expression

Long nose

Hazel eyes

Skinny

Average height

Slightly older than Sirius Black (possibly by only a month or two?)

Possible birthday in March

Has been seen in corridors and courtyard

Spotted recently

May still be there (perhaps going home was only a facade?)

Possibly in Slytherin, more likely in Gryffindor

Interested in Whomping Willow (constantly seen near it)

Something to hide

Sneaks places uninvited

Temper

Blindly follows fixations as if following a bloodlust

Cunning, manipulative

Name starts with R

"Hm," said Albus, and Sirius practically burst a blood vessel trying not to laugh. "This information is most definitely not describing Remus Lupin."

"You see what you want to see, Dumbledore! You're so determined to make the pieces fit—you're so determined to make Remus Lupin the person you want him to be—that you're ignoring the obvious!"

Sirius really did laugh a little at the irony of that statement, but he didn't think that anyone had heard him.

"Sirius is a bit of a troublemaker, I'm afraid," said Albus with a smile. "It seems to me like he was trying to describe a very different brown-haired person who showed up on Hogwarts grounds uninvited."

Ragfarn's mouth formed an O, and then he crossed his arms. "Hogwarts' hospitality never ceases to amaze me," he hissed.

"Why, thank you," said Albus pleasantly. "Will that be all you need, then?"

"An official investigation will be conducted on Lupin and his parents shortly," said Ragfarn shortly. "I will catch the culprit if it is the last thing I do, Albus."

"That will be easier if you keep your mind open to other possibilities," suggested Albus as Ragfarn stormed out of the room.

Sirius started to follow him, but then Albus said, "Sirius. Stay back a moment."

Sirius paused. "How did you know I was here?" he asked, still invisible.

"Lucky guess."

Sirius ducked behind a cabinet so that Albus wouldn't see him taking off the Cloak, and then he emerged, Invisibility Cloak hidden. "What do you need, Albus?"

"You realize that you have just made things worse for Remus, correct?"

"What do you mean? I kept Ragfarn away from him!"

"Had you had allowed Dav Ragfarn to investigate uninterrupted, he would have found nothing. But you did not let him investigate uninterrupted, and now he thinks Remus has something to hide."

"He would have thought that anyway!"

"True," mused Albus, "and I must admit that your shenanigans were rather clever... but you must understand that he is even angrier with Remus now. Before, he was merely determined; now he is offended as well as determined, and that is a very dangerous combination."

"Not my fault."

"Sirius…" Albus sighed, long and heavy. "This is a delicate situation, and you are not a delicate person. I appreciate your willingness to protect your friend, but you are going to get yourself in trouble someday if you fail to think before you speak."

"Then what am I supposed to do to help?"

"Just be there for him, Sirius. That is all he wants from you."

"Fine," said Sirius, storming out of the room just like Ragfarn had. He didn't understand why everyone always had to spoil his fun.

All in all, though, the day definitely hadn't been as boring as Sirius had thought it would be, and he was very thankful for that.

AN: I'm especially fond of this chapter. Sirius Black, for all his faults, never fails to amuse!