Sirius and James locked eyes in the train corridor as the last few students were filtering aboard. He felt his face crack into a wide, delighted smile to match his best friend before they lunged at each other. Regulus had been standing behind him, but when they broke apart and Sirius turned around to introduce him to James, he had apparently vanished.

No trouble. They would see him at the sorting. And besides, he had plenty of things he was bursting to talk to James about in private.

Privacy didn't come. They loaded their trunks into the overhead of an empty compartment and were just sitting down when Peter, Marlene and Harvey, the Hufflepuff entered. Excited chatter bloomed, musings of what their second year promised them, wondering about the new firsties, fantasising about the quidditch tryouts. Sirius was delighted to be back amongst it. There was that question, sitting in the back of his mind, which had stayed with him for most of the summer. He had been itching to just write, but if his guess was correct, it wasn't the kind of thing he'd want to have on paper. So he had held onto it, keeping it even from Regulus.

But after six weeks of the stuffy dark house and hushed voices and good manners, how could he not get carried away in laughter, and sweets, and rumours and giddiness? His questions could wait.

As they disembarked the train at Hogsmeade, he managed a fleeting glimpse of Regulus' shiny black curls and tried to point him out to James, but he was immediately swallowed by the crowd of first years. Hagrid shepherded them off to the lake and the older students were led away to a dirt track. A fleet of horseless carriages arrived and they all clambered in. He and James were alone in one of them, just long enough for Sirius to reach hopefully into his pocket to pull out the worried sheet of paper, before a group of Slytherin girls that Sirius barely knew joined them and he steered them into a different conversation.

The castle loomed over the hills as they approached and the conversation in the carriage died. They jumped out and were herded into neat house lines, before the huge front doors were opened and Professor McGonagall waved them into the entrance hall.

They sat at the Gryffindor table and Sirius rubbed his thumb over the stolen newspaper page, listening to the hubbub of voices around him while they waited for the first years to be paraded in.

They hadn't talked about Regulus' sorting. All Summer, they had both seemed to come to a mutual agreement to leave it be and instead try to enjoy each other's company as much as they could. Not to say that Sirius hadn't thought about it. He'd thought about it almost every night.

There was no possibility that Regulus would end up in Gryffindor, that much was obvious. He was much more a Black than Sirius would ever be. However, there was the odd chance that he might end up in Ravenclaw - it was wishful thinking. Part of him couldn't let go of the idea that the two of them could choose a different path. That they didn't have to be pitted against each other as the better son. That they could both be free.

It was wishful, but it wasn't impossible.

The hall doors swung open and McGonagall led the first years in.

James tapped him on the shoulder and whispered into his ear. "Is that your brother?"

He pointed, with surprising subtlety, at the neat looking, dark haired boy in the middle of the line. Sirius nodded. It hardly needed asking. They were the spit of each other.

The hall fell silent as McGonagall picked up the Sorting Hat and opened a long roll of parchment. A few of the first years looked a little green.

"Allen, Noel."

A blonde boy staggered out of the line and cast a nervous glance at the hall, before hurrying to the stool to be sorted into Ravenclaw.

Sirius crossed his fingers in the pockets of his robes and bit his lip, glad that James was sitting behind him on the bench and couldn't see his face.

Please, just ask to go somewhere else.

"Black, Regulus."

Regulus stepped out from his place in the line and walked over to the stool. Sirius tried to catch his eye, but it seemed that his little brother was purposefully not looking at the large crowd of waiting students. He sat down, and Sirius saw that his eyes were screwed shut, and his lips pressed together in a hard, determined line.

McGonagall dropped the hat.

Please, just ask for somewhere else.

"Slytherin!"

The Great Hall erupted and McGonagall lifted the hat from Regulus' head. The first new Slytherin of the year.

Sirius could see his eyes were wide like a frightened cat at the explosion of noise. His chest was full of guilt and he thought he might be sick. Sure, Gryffindor was for him, but wouldn't a good older brother have gone to Slytherin for Regulus? Even if it was just to be able to welcome him in this moment.

McGonagall crouched down slightly and pointed over to the Slytherin table. Sirius could see Rabastan Lestrange standing on the bench, beckoning Regulus over. He jumped down from the stool and hurried over. Sirius stood slightly, trying to get Regulus to even glance at him, so he could offer him a welcoming smile, show that he was there, waiting, watching. And that he cared.

Regulus didn't look at the Gryffindor table.

"Burt, Julie."

Another Ravenclaw. James put a hand on Sirius' shoulder, but said nothing. Sirius fleetingly wondered whether he had taken lessons in tact over the Summer. It wasn't like him to be quietly comforting.

A smiley boy called Oliver Cernauskas became the first Gryffindor and gave Sirius something to cheer about. He took a seat next to Mo, who patted him on the shoulder kindly. Dirk Cresswell was another Ravenclaw and Sirius started to zone out.

"Crouch, Bartemius."

"Merlin, what a name," James muttered into his ear. That's more like it, Sirius thought, wryly.

"You're one to talk, James Fleamont Potter," he hissed back, earning a soft punch in the back.

I have heard that name, though, Sirius mused, watching the small, thin boy with an impressive nose go to take his place before McGonagall.

"Slytherin!"

"Devon, Marielle."

It was Remus' turn to interject. He leaned across the table and tapped Sirius urgently, but when he turned his attention to him, Remus seemed to have nothing to say. He was watching Marielle make her way to the stool. Sirius watched her too. She was looking nervously from the crowd of students to McGonagall. Eventually, the professor waved her hand a little to usher her over and she stumbled towards her, looking like a deer in the headlights.

"What's the matter?" Sirius hissed at Remus. "Do you know her?"

Remus shrugged awkwardly, still half watching Marielle.

"Dunno. She has the same surname as someone I know."

Devon sat on the stool, with the hat on her head, for the longest while yet. It was a good two or three minutes before it declared her a Ravenclaw and McGonagall removed it. The Ravenclaw table cheered in welcome and Marielle screwed her eyes shut and clapped her hands over her ears.

"Lot of Ravenclaws this year," James remarked conversationally. "Three out of five."

Professor McGonagall took Marielle by the arm and pulled her from the stool, pushing her gently in the direction of the Ravenclaw table. She simply stood there, hands over her ears, eyes closed. The clapping faltered a little and eventually, a blonde Ravenclaw with a newly-appointed Head Girl badge on her robes hurried up to the front of the hall to lead Marielle over to her seat.

"So, who do you know called Devon?" Sirius asked Remus, ignoring the sorting of Wallace Grimsby (the first Hufflepuff).

Remus avoided his eyes, apparently regretting having brought it up at all.

"A Healer I saw a couple of times," he offered, clearly nervous. Sirius opened his mouth to ask further, but Peter tapped him and pointed at the sorting.

"We can talk about this later," Peter said, looking at Remus' flushed face. Sirius conceded and turned his attention back to the first years.

The sorting carried on for another twenty or so minutes and Sirius allowed his eyes to glaze over. He didn't know any of these younger students, and his mind was elsewhere. He clapped on automatically for Georgia Mitchell, Matilda McCrum, Amira Maclauchlan and finally, Wiktor Zemankiewicz, but his heart wasn't in it. He kept stealing glances over at the Slytherin table, hoping that Regulus might turn his head. He was sat next to Rabastan, who was chatting to him, and introducing him to the other Slytherins. They knew some of them already, of course, but pureblood society was like that. Formal and hierarchical. It was just as beneficial for Rabastan to be the one to introduce Regulus, as it was for Regulus to be officially reacquainted.

"Remember this time last year?"

James was mumbling into his ear again. Sirius reluctantly tore his gaze away from Regulus to look at his best friend. James' face was oddly soft. His brown eyes were wide and uncomfortably earnest. Sirius focussed on his eyebrows instead.

"It's a big day for him. He'll come and find you in a day or so."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Have you and Remus switched bodies?"

James scowled and punched him again. "Shut up, I was trying to be nice."

They enjoyed the feast, catching up with each other over the vast array of food. Peter was excitedly telling them about the magical drafting parchment he'd gotten from his father - "It allows you to track footfall, how cool would that be!?" - and James was prattling on about the upcoming quidditch tryouts.

If he pushed Regulus out of his head (and realistically, it shouldn't be that hard, he managed to do it all of last year) he was happy to be home.

It seemed that Alice's friend, Frank, was a newly appointed Gryffindor prefect. He stood up at about nine and started gathering up first years to show them to the common room, beaming brightly and chatting to little Zemankiewicz, who seemed quite bold for such a tiny boy. Mohammad and Deniese gave them a half-hour head-start, before they began encouraging the rest of the house to wrap it up and get going. They filed out of the Great Hall, alongside a group of Ravenclaws. Sirius put his hands back in his pockets - finding the folded newspaper page again. He looked to his right. Remus was next to him, smiling benignly and drinking in the castle with sleepy eyes.

Suppose he was right. What if telling took it all away from him? Remus turned to Sirius and grinned at him.

"Good to be back, isn't it?"

Sirius smiled nervously back at him. "Yeah…"

When they arrived in the common room, it was just Frank and Alice (who must have left a little earlier to chat to her friend). Frank went red upon seeing the group of Gryffindors climbing through the portrait hole. Peter and Remus went to the boys' dormitory staircase and Sirius hoped that James might hang back, but he joined them and waved for Sirius to hurry along.

Their dormitory was one staircase higher this year, and Sirius wondered about the view from the top of the tower when they finally reached seventh year. Otherwise, everything was identical. He took the bed in the same position as last year and he felt so at home, he wondered if it were the very same four-poster.

He watched as the others chatted and pottered about, changing into pyjamas and putting their trinkets on their bedside tables. Sirius didn't join in, only commenting enough to keep attention off him. He watched Remus as casually as he could manage. He had stood strategically behind his curtained four-poster to change. Now that Sirius was watching, it occurred to him that he always did that. He, Peter and James weren't so coy, but perhaps that was it? Perhaps he was just shy?

The fleeting image of that oddly mangled ankle flashed in his mind.

Perhaps not.

Remus reappeared dressed in his pyjamas. He was still smiling, chattering with Peter.

The scars from the Whomping Willow last term hadn't faded. It was strange, to begin with, that Madame Pomfrey hadn't been able to vanish them in an instant. Sirius hadn't been a particularly accident prone child, owing to the fact that he and his brother had rarely been allowed to do anything remotely dangerous, but even he knew that it should only take a minute to sort out those marks.

"You going to get changed?" James appeared in front of him, interrupting his thoughts.

"Er, yeah."

James looked down at him, oddly serious for a boy in red pyjamas covered in animated quidditch balls.

"You still thinking about Regulus?" he asked, looking sympathetic again. Sirius was confused for a moment, then it clicked.

"Oh, er, yeah. It's fine, like you said. Big day for him. Anyway, what's with you? How come you're all therapeutic all of a sudden?"

James rolled his eyes and sat heavily down next to Sirius on his bed. "I was just trying to be a bit of a better friend," he sighed. "My dad said I should be less of an erumpant if I want people to like me."

Sirius stared at James, incredulous.

"You can't be serious?" He laughed and James went red. "You're the most likeable person I've ever met."

James pushed him over and he was flat on his back on the bed. Peter and Remus stopped their conversation to watch the drama, but Sirius was still laughing. James kneeled on top of him, arms crossed, trying not to let a smile grow on his red face.

"Thank you, and shut up," he grumbled. "I'm trying to be a good, sensitive friend."

Sirius could feel tears in the corners of his eyes, half from James' ridiculousness and half from his not insignificant weight on his torso. Peter came to his rescue, climbing up to join them on the bed and pushing James off him.

"Jesus, you're both idiots."

"I'll have you know that I'm incredibly bright," James grumbled, good-naturedly. The three of them lay in a tangled heap on Sirius', chuckling to themselves, until Peter sat up abruptly.

"C'mon then, Remus," he called across the room where Remus was still standing watching them. Sirius craned his neck to see him.

"Yeah Remus, think you're too cool for a reunion puddle?" James added.

"I think you mean cuddle," Sirius added. James kicked him.

"No, I meant what I said. C'mon Lupin."

"Yeah, come on Lupin, James can move his fat arse and make some room," Peter assured. Sirius stared up at the canopy of his bed, listening to Remus' innocent laugh and thought about the folded newspaper page in his pocket. He felt the bed dip and Remus joined them, trying tentatively to find a spot to fit himself. Peter and James, obviously impatient with his careful hovering, took an arm each and pulled him down. He landed ungraciously on top of Sirius with a surprised 'oof' and Sirius was face-to-face with the boy he had spent a large part of the Summer holidays thinking about.

It was hard to imagine, looking into his wide, hazel eyes and honest face, that he was a dangerous monster.

They lay there, tangled, cheerful and chatting, for what must have been hours. The night plodded on around them and they lapsed into tired silence. Sirius stayed still, anchored in place by the weight of Remus' torso and James' legs. It must have been past midnight, his eyelids were drooping closed, when Remus tapped him on the shoulder.

"Would you like your bed back?" he whispered, trying to untangle himself from Peter and James.

"Yeah, I still need to get changed," he realised. He'd only been back one day and he was already almost falling asleep in his day clothes. His mother would have had a fit.

Between the two of them, they managed to convince James and Peter to make their way to their own beds, both half-asleep. Sirius used his freedom to change and brush his teeth. When he came back into the dormitory, Peter was snoring audibly in his own bed and he could see James' foot poking out of his hangings.

Remus stood in the middle of the room, looking nervous.

"So, are you alright?" Remus asked quietly. Sirius closed the bathroom door behind him carefully and stepped up to Remus.

He couldn't be.

But how could he not?

"Peter said you were worried about your brother?"

Sirius didn't answer him immediately. He fiddled with the pile of his clothes in his arms, finding the pocket of his robes.

He didn't get the chance to ask James, after all. But perhaps this was better. Harder, but better.

"I was, yeah. But there was something else."

"Oh?"

Sirius couldn't help but notice that Remus' hands were trembling a little and he was chewing his lips nervously. Sirius rather thought it was reminiscent of the way one would tense in apprehension of someone going to touch a painful wound.

"Yeah…" He signed, trying to fill himself with courage, and pulled the folded newspaper from his robe pocket. "I was thinking, over the summer, about you."

Remus looked frightened, like a cornered animal. His wide eyes flicked towards the door, then back to Sirius, then down to his hands. Sirius pushed on, refusing to let himself feel guilty.

"I was thinking… I mean, I knew I had heard your name before, last year, at the sorting."

"Yeah," Remus' voice was barely a whisper. He was picking at his remaining fingernails.

"Well, I'd seen it in the paper. Your dad works for the Ministry."

Remus said nothing, and Sirius licked his lips nervously. He felt like he was picking on someone vulnerable. He felt like a bully. Like his mother.

"And your family was attacked by Greyback."

Remus' hands stilled, his unblinking gaze boring a hole in the floor. Sirius realised he was holding his breath.

He'd started now, and Remus wasn't denying anything. He may as well go on. May as well deal the killing blow.

"You always 'visit your mother' at the full moon. And you have these… marks… scars. They don't heal. But your dad's a wizard. He'd be able to sort them out no problem. And Greyback… I had a look at the old articles about him over Summer… He's famous for biting children…" Sirius paused, trying to search Remus' face for a hint that he was wrong. It seemed all the colour had drained from him and Sirius tried not to let himself feel guilty.

"I just think…" Sirius sighed. "Are you? Are you a werewolf?"

Remus had stopped holding his breath, but Sirius only knew because he could hear him panicking. He waited for Remus to look up, and when they locked eyes, Remus' were wet and pleading.

"Please," he whispered. His mouth was wobbly and his hands were aggressively twisting fistfulls of the fabric of his pyjama bottoms.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

Remus took a step back, his breath hitching, tears spilling freely. Sirius felt sick.

"I'm right." He whispered, wishing he wasn't.