The Gryffindor common room was unusually quiet for a Saturday afternoon, the warm glow of the fire casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. Remus was hunched over a pile of books, his quill scratching against parchment as he diligently worked on an essay for Transfiguration. Peter sat nearby, his face a picture of gloom as he idly poked at a half-eaten Chocolate Frog, clearly still nursing the wounds of a recent breakup with his hufflepuff witch.

James, meanwhile, lounged in an armchair, one leg dangling over the side as he tossed a Golden Snitch lazily into the air, catching it effortlessly each time it tried to escape. His glasses slid down his nose, but he made no effort to push them back up, too engrossed in the rhythmic motion of the Snitch.

Sirius, sprawled out on the couch with his feet propped up on the armrest, flipped through the pages of a glossy Muggle magazine. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he paused on one particular page, a grin spreading across his face.

"You know," Sirius began, breaking the comfortable silence, "I've been thinking about getting one of these."

James glanced over, curious. "One of what?"

Sirius turned the magazine around, holding it up for them to see. The page featured a sleek, black motorcycle, its chrome gleaming under the studio lights. The caption underneath boasted about its speed and power, words that seemed to resonate deeply with Sirius.

"A motorcycle?" James asked, raising an eyebrow as he caught the Snitch once again, holding it still between his fingers. "A Muggle one?"

Sirius nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! I saw it in this Muggle magazine over the summer. Isn't it brilliant? The speed, the freedom… just imagine tearing down the open road on one of these beauties."

Remus glanced up from his homework, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "You do realize you can already fly, right? Broomsticks, magical creatures… you've got plenty of ways to 'tear down the open road' without spending a fortune."

Sirius waved a hand dismissively. "It's not the same, Moony. There's something about a motorcycle. It's all about the power beneath you, the roar of the engine, the wind in your hair… and it's just so…cool."

James chuckled, twirling the Snitch between his fingers. "So, how much do you need to save up for it?"

Sirius leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. "Quite a bit, actually. I've been setting aside some of the money my dear old parents send me. Not like I'm going to use it on anything they'd approve of, anyway."

"Bet they'd love the idea of you riding around on a Muggle contraption," Remus remarked dryly, a slight smirk tugging at his lips as he returned to his essay.

"They'd absolutely hate it," Sirius replied with a wicked grin. "Which only makes me want it more. Besides, I'll add some magical enhancements, make it even better than what the Muggles can do."

Peter, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up, his voice tinged with misery. "Why do you even want it? It's not like you can ride it here at Hogwarts."

Sirius's grin softened a bit as he turned to Peter, noting the sorrow in his friend's eyes. "I won't be at Hogwarts forever, Pete. Besides, it's about having something that's mine, something I chose, not something that was chosen for me. It's about breaking away from… everything, you know?"

Peter nodded slowly, though his expression remained downcast. He mumbled something about how he couldn't even break away from a relationship, and Sirius's grin faded entirely.

"Come on, Pete," Sirius said, his voice gentler now. "Don't let that girl get you down. There are plenty more fish in the sea, as they say."

"Or more witches in the cauldron," James added with a playful smirk, tossing the Snitch again.

Peter gave a half-hearted smile but didn't seem entirely convinced. He sighed and returned to poking at the Chocolate Frog, which had begun to squirm again in an attempt to escape.

Sirius, sensing that Peter needed a distraction, leaned forward, his eyes alight with mischief. "Tell you what, when I finally get that motorcycle, I'll take you all for a ride. We'll make a day of it—maybe even charm it to fly. Imagine the looks on people's faces when they see us soaring through the air on a Muggle bike."

"That would be something to see," Remus said, chuckling as he finished the last line of his essay.

"Just make sure I'm the first one on it," James said, catching the Snitch one final time before pocketing it. "Wouldn't want to miss out on the fun."

"Deal," Sirius said, his grin returning full force. "And who knows, maybe by then, you'll have found a new girl, Pete. Someone who appreciates you for who you are."

Peter smiled a bit more sincerely this time, nodding as he finally let the Chocolate Frog hop away. "Thanks, Sirius."

The fire crackled in the hearth, and the common room was filled with a sense of camaraderie and warmth as the four friends settled back into their routine. Sirius's thoughts drifted back to the motorcycle in the magazine, his mind already racing with plans for the future—a future filled with freedom, adventure, and the open road.

Except, he couldn't help but think about a certain pretty witch that he wanted to be on the motorcycle with.

The walls of 12 Grimmauld Place felt colder than usual, the dark, oppressive atmosphere suffocating Sirius as he lay curled up on the hard, dusty floor of his bedroom. The curtains were drawn tightly shut, blocking out any hint of sunlight that might have seeped through the cracks. The room, once a prison, had now become a tomb. The door was locked, of course, and had been for what felt like an eternity—though in reality, it had only been a week.

He hadn't eaten in days, and the only water he'd been given was left in a chipped, dirty glass by Kreacher, who sneered down at him with a twisted sense of pleasure before slamming the door shut once more. Sirius's throat was dry, his body weak from hunger and dehydration, but nothing compared to the agony that still lingered from the curse that had torn through his body.

The pain from the Cruciatus Curse was unlike anything else, searing through his nerves like molten lava, leaving him writhing on the floor, screaming until his voice gave out. The memory of it haunted him, each wave of remembered pain crashing through his mind like a relentless tide. His muscles still twitched involuntarily, his body still trembling from the aftermath.

But the physical pain was nothing compared to the hatred he felt for the people who had inflicted it on him.

"You dare speak ill of the Dark Lord?" His mother's voice had been shrill, filled with righteous fury. "You dare mock everything our family stands for?"

Sirius had known he was in for it the moment the words left his mouth. He'd been careless, so consumed with rage and disgust for everything his family stood for that he couldn't stop himself. He had called the Dark Lord a monster, had spat on the idea of blood purity and dark magic. His father's face had gone cold, a mask of icy rage, while his mother had turned white with fury.

The Cruciatus Curse had come first from his father, a single, sharp word that sent Sirius crashing to the floor. He'd tried to fight the scream that tore from his throat, tried to bite down on it, but the pain was too much, too overwhelming. He'd screamed until he was hoarse, his body convulsing uncontrollably.

When his father had finally lifted the curse, it was only for his mother to take over. She had paced around him as he lay on the floor, her wand pointed down at him, her voice dripping with venom. She'd cursed him over and over again, each time sending new waves of pain through his body, each time breaking him a little more.

"You are a disgrace," she had hissed, her voice echoing in his ears even now. "You are no son of mine. You will learn respect, or you will die in this room, forgotten and alone."

When they had finally stopped, when the curses had ended, they had left him there, locking the door behind them. No more words, no more threats. Just silence, and the unbearable weight of his own suffering.

Sirius curled up tighter, his arms wrapped around his knees as he shivered on the cold floor. He could still feel the phantom pain, the echoes of the curse lingering in his bones. He had no idea how much longer they planned to keep him here, how much longer they would punish him for daring to speak his mind. But he knew one thing for certain: he would never give them the satisfaction of breaking him. Not fully.

His thoughts drifted to his friends—James, Remus, Peter—who were probably enjoying their summer holidays without a care in the world. He wondered what they would think if they knew what he was enduring, if they could see him now, beaten down and broken in the house that was supposed to be his home.

But Sirius was strong.

He had to be.

He had endured the worst his parents could throw at him, and he would endure whatever came next. Because no matter what, he would never become like them. He would never bow down to the darkness that consumed them. He would survive, and one day, he would escape this hellhole for good.

He closed his eyes, letting his mind drift to thoughts of freedom, of the open skies and endless possibilities beyond the walls of Grimmauld Place. He clung to those thoughts, to the hope that one day, he would be free, and that he would never look back.

And as the darkness of the room closed in around him, Sirius whispered a vow to himself, a promise that no matter what, he would fight. He would fight until he had nothing left, and then he would fight some more. Because he was Sirius Black, and he would never be broken.

The courtyard buzzed with the usual chatter of students enjoying a rare moment of sunshine between classes. Sirius sat on a stone bench with his friends, James idly tossing a Snitch back and forth between his hands, Remus buried in a book, and Peter picking at the grass. The peaceful scene was a stark contrast to the turmoil that often filled his mind, especially after this summer.

Sirius forced a grin as James cracked a joke, though his mind was elsewhere. He tried to focus on the present, to push away the dark thoughts that haunted him. But then, something caught his attention—a flash of bright white hair that stood out against the sea of dark Hogwarts robes.

Sirius turned his head, his breath catching slightly when he saw her. Gwen Donoghue, her silver-white hair gleaming in the sunlight, walked into the courtyard with Pandora Rosier by her side. They were talking quietly, their heads close together, sharing some secret that made Gwen smile—a soft, genuine smile that lit up her entire face.

For a moment, everything else faded away. Sirius found himself captivated by the sight of her, the way she moved with a grace that seemed almost ethereal, the way her hair shimmered like moonlight. She was different from the other girls at Hogwarts, not just because of her looks but because of the aura she carried with her—calm, mysterious, with an edge of something untouchable.

As she and Pandora made their way through the courtyard, Sirius couldn't tear his eyes away. He watched as they approached a group of Slytherins—Regulus, Severus, and Barty Crouch Jr. Sirius's jaw tightened instinctively at the sight of his brother, but even that couldn't distract him from Gwen. She exchanged a few words with Regulus, who offered her a rare smile in return, and Sirius's heart twisted in his chest.

There was something about her. She was beautiful, yes, but there was more to it than that. She was intriguing in a way that most people weren't. His best friend, and an unattainable witch.

"Sirius, mate, you alright?" James's voice cut through his thoughts, jolting him back to the present.

"Huh?" Sirius blinked, realizing he had been staring. He turned back to James, who was watching him with a curious grin. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Sure, you are," James teased, glancing over in the direction Sirius had been looking. "Who's got you so distracted?"

"No one," Sirius said quickly, too quickly. He tried to sound casual, but James wasn't fooled.

James raised an eyebrow. "No one, huh? Then why were you staring at Regulus and his lot?"

"I wasn't staring at them," Sirius muttered, though he knew it was a weak defense. He couldn't exactly admit that he had been staring at Gwen, not without inviting a barrage of anger from James.

But James, being James, wasn't going to let it go that easily. "Uh-huh," he said, smirking. "Well, if it's not Regulus, then who is it?"

Sirius rolled his eyes and tried to play it off. "Just thinking, that's all."

"Thinking?" Remus finally looked up from his book, a hint of amusement in his voice. "That's a dangerous pastime for you, Sirius."

"Ha ha, very funny," Sirius shot back, but his tone lacked its usual bite. He couldn't shake the image of Gwen from his mind, the way her eyes had sparkled when she smiled, the way she seemed to carry herself with such effortless elegance.

"Maybe he's finally found someone worth thinking about," Peter piped up, a teasing lilt in his voice.

"Maybe," Sirius murmured, his gaze drifting back to Gwen, who was now sitting with the Slytherins, laughing at something Barty had said. The sound of her laughter carried across the courtyard, light and melodic, and Sirius felt a strange warmth spread through him.

But that warmth was quickly followed by a pang of discomfort. She was with Regulus, with Severus, with the very people Sirius had spent years distancing himself from. The thought made his heart sink a little. What was he thinking? Even if she was beautiful, even if she intrigued him, she had been dancing on the other side of the line that divided them.

Sirius Black loathed his family, loathed their morals and everything they represented. Any and everyone who fraternized with them.

Except, one witch.

His witch.

The witch, Gwen Donoghue.

Still, Sirius couldn't help but steal one last glance in her direction before forcing himself to look away, pretending to be engrossed in whatever James was saying. But deep down, he knew that Gwen had been in his blood from the day they met, whether he liked it or not.

The full moon was nearing, and with it came the usual tension among the Marauders. It was a chilly evening in the Gryffindor common room, the fire crackling in the hearth as Sirius, James, and Peter gathered in a quiet corner. They had been practicing for months, trying to perfect their transformations, but it was still a struggle.

Sirius ran a hand through his messy hair, his brow furrowed in concentration as he sat cross-legged on the floor. He could feel the animal inside him, the massive dog,Padfoot, clawing to get out. But the process was anything but smooth. His transformations were still rough, often leaving him half-shifted, with patches of fur and elongated limbs that didn't quite fit together.

"Alright, let's try it again," James said, his voice filled with determination. He was standing nearby, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for a physical challenge. His Animagus form—a magnificent stag—was within reach, but shifting fully was a different matter entirely. His last attempt had left him with antlers and nothing else, much to Sirius's amusement.

Peter, sitting a bit off to the side, looked nervous. His transformation was the hardest of all, and he often found himself stuck between his human and rat forms, unable to complete the change. His small hands trembled slightly as he rubbed them together.

"You ready, Wormtail?" Sirius asked, giving Peter a reassuring nod. "Just focus on the rat, don't overthink it."

Peter swallowed hard and nodded, though his eyes betrayed his fear. "Yeah, I'll try."

Sirius took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to let go of the tension in his body. He focused on the image of Padfoot in his mind—the large, black dog that had become so familiar to him over the past year. He could feel the magic coursing through him, the tingling sensation that signaled the beginning of the transformation.

Slowly, his bones began to shift, his muscles stretching and reforming. Fur sprouted along his arms, his fingers shortening into paws. His face elongated into a snout, and his ears moved up to the top of his head. It was happening, but not as quickly or as smoothly as he wanted. He felt a sharp pain in his ribs as his chest contorted, halfway between human and dog.

"Come on, Sirius, you've got this," James encouraged, though he was clearly struggling with his own transformation. His legs were beginning to elongate into the powerful limbs of a stag, but his torso remained stubbornly human, his hands still gripping the edge of the table.

Sirius gritted his teeth and pushed harder, forcing the transformation to continue. The pain was intense, but he could feel himself getting closer. With a final surge of effort, he completed the shift, standing on all fours as Padfoot, his tail wagging slightly.

James, seeing Sirius's success, redoubled his efforts. His body finally gave way, and with a shimmer of magic, he transformed fully into Prongs, the majestic stag. He tossed his head, antlers scraping the ceiling, and let out a soft snort of triumph.

Peter, however, was still struggling. His body had shrunk down, and his hands had turned into paws, but he was stuck halfway between forms, his human face still visible beneath the growing fur. He let out a whimper of frustration, his small eyes flicking back and forth between his friends.

Come on, Wormtail, you can do it, Sirius urged, he thought heavily, filled with encouragement. He padded over to Peter, nudging him gently with his snout.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut, focusing with all his might. Slowly, painfully, the transformation completed, and he shrank down into the small, gray rat that was Wormtail. He squeaked softly, his nose twitching as he looked up at Sirius and James.

"You did it, Peter!" James's voice was triumphant, even as he shifted back into human form. His transformation back was just as slow and awkward, his limbs elongating and shrinking as he returned to his normal self.

Sirius followed suit, the fur receding as he reverted to his human form, his hands returning to normal with a slight tremor. He felt exhausted, as if he had just run a marathon, but there was a sense of accomplishment that made it all worth it.

"Not bad, eh?" Sirius grinned, though he was breathing heavily. "We're getting there."

Peter, still panting from the effort, nodded in agreement. "Yeah… we're getting better."

James clapped Peter on the back, beaming with pride. "We'll be ready for Moony, no problem."

Sirius looked around at his friends, feeling a swell of pride. They were doing this for Remus, to make sure he didn't have to go through his transformations alone. It was hard work, but it was worth every bit of effort.

"We'll be Animagus soon enough," Sirius said confidently, his eyes glinting with determination. "And when we are, Moony won't have to face the full moon alone ever again."