Padfoot and Prongs





James Potter stood frozen in his bedroom, a sealed letter in his hands. He stared at the name written on the scroll. It was hurriedly scribbled in blotchy ink and smudged with heavy raindrops, but James still recognized the handwriting and felt a jolt in his stomach - half excitement, half worry - at the thought that it was from his best friend, Sirius Black.



Prongs - I need your help. I need a place to stay. I've left home and my parents are furious, not to mention Regulus. I've done magic and the Ministry'll be swooping down on me any moment. I've got no where to go, so I need a huge favour - can I stay at your place tonight, just until I can find somewhere else?



Write back quickly,



Padfoot.



James scanned the letter, still glued to the spot. Sirius had left home? He had done magic? The Ministry would be after him; Sirius didn't exactly have a clean record. James felt a horrible wave of panic spread over him. Sirius was forever causing chaos, receiving the occasional Ministry Warning, but this felt different. James forced himself out of his paralysis and moved quickly to his desk, grabbing a quill, and hastily scribbled a message on the back of Sirius's note.



Padfoot,



Course you can stay. Come here right away - just Apparate, you've already done magic, what harm will a bit more do? If the Ministry reach you first,

DO NOT SURRENDER YOUR WAND!



Prongs



James tied the scroll of parchment back around his owl's leg and threw it unceremoniously out of the window and into the night. James leant on the sill, watching the owl until it became nothing more than a tiny black speck upon the horizon. What if James's letter didn't reach him in time? What if the Ministry got to Sirius first? James shook himself mentally; he was being stupid. Sirius could take care of himself in face of the Ministry…but could he in face of the Blacks?



James shut the window with a snap, turning his back on it. He stood still, listening with all his might to hear the crack of Sirius's Apparition. He stood staring at the clock, which seemed to be moving unnaturally slow, every fibre of his body hoping, praying for the sound announcing his best friend's arrival. Then he heard it. A faint crack from somewhere downstairs, followed by muffled cursing. James sprinted out onto the landing and leapt down the stairs, three at a time.



"Sirius?" James hissed, following the sound of the cursing, "Padfoot, is that you?"



"You bet your bloody antlers it's me, mate," came Sirius's low voice from somewhere in the direction of the kitchen.



James sprinted across the living room and threw open the door to the kitchen. Sirius had been hopping on one foot, swearing under his breath at a large trunk that lay near by, when James had entered the room, but his usual mischievous grin cracked across his face the moment he spotted James. Sirius looked terrible. He was wearing robes that James guessed to be deep green but for all the soot, mud and filth on them they could have been black. James could see shallow cuts and grazes beneath rips in Sirius's clothing, and he had a vivid black bruise rising around his left eye.



In one swift movement James crossed the room and greeted his friend with a rough embrace.



"Are you okay?" James asked urgently, letting go of Sirius and standing back a pace or two, "Any sign of the Ministry?'



"Nope, not yet," said Sirius, grinning.



"Are you okay?" James repeated.



"Okay? I'm bloody brilliant!" said Sirius, letting out a bark of laughter, "I'm never going back to that place again. I'm out of there for good!"



"What happened?" James asked.



"My family happened, that's what," said Sirius, suddenly bitter, "My family, and their stupid pure-blood mania. We had a fight. It started about Mum's cousin, Araminta, but of course everything got dragged into it in the end. There was an article in the Prophet this morning about the Ministry Bill she wants passed to make Muggle-hunting legal. Well my dear old mum was ecstatic of course, even though the Prophet was writing against Araminta. Mum's convinced it'll get the Bill a bit of publicity, you know - get Araminta some support. She was ranting about it all morning."



"You should've just ignored her," said James.



"I did, Prongs, believe me I did!" Sirius insisted. "But then my dear old father came in and thought he'd have a go too. I don't think he even knew what the fight was about, but he got in there. He started yelling about how I was a shame to the name of Black. He reckons that I should take a leaf out of Regulus’ book, and that I need to learn that Muggle-borns are about as welcome in our world as Muggles themselves. He gave me this," said Sirius bitterly, gesturing at his blackened left eye, "And then Regulus came in, and you know what he's like about all that. He joined the rant and I couldn't ignore him, Prongs, you should've heard what he was saying. He wasn't just saying that Araminta was right, he went a step further. I'm not even sure my mother would have said those things out loud, but of course she didn't say anything to shut Regulus up; if he was against me then she was on his side, as far as she was concerned."



"So what did Regulus say?"



"Well…" Sirius muttered awkwardly, avoiding James's eye, "he said that - er - that everyone who - who isn't pure blood should be…exterminated."



James felt his jaw drop. He stared at Sirius, but his friend gave no sign that he was joking.



"You're kidding," James breathed.



"Nope. Not kidding," said Sirius seriously. James swore loudly. "Yeah," Sirius agreed, "that’s pretty much what I said. So, naturally I reacted as any normal wizard would, and beat the living -"



"Sirius!"



James and Sirius whipped round to face the door. A small woman with greying dark hair and a very kind smile was standing in the threshold, wearing a fluffy dressing gown and matching slippers. Dorea Potter crossed the room and gave Sirius a quick hug, before holding him at arms length and looking him up and down.



"What's happened to you, Sirius?" she asked anxiously.



"Oh, nothing, I'm fine," Sirius lied, "Sorry about this, Mrs. Potter, I -"



"Mum, is it okay if Sirius stays with us for a bit?" James cut in. "Only he's had a - er…." he glanced at Sirius for support.



"I'm going through a kind of - er - rough patch, with my parents at the moment. I'm really sorry about this, Mrs. Potter, but I -"



"I said that Sirius could stay with us for a bit, Mum," James finished in what he hoped to be an innocently confident voice.



"Of course he can!" Mrs. Potter burst out, hurrying forward and hugging Sirius again. Sirius stayed routed to the spot in shock.



"Are - are you sure?" he stammered.



"Of course I am," Mrs. Potter said kindly, smiling up at him; he was at least six inches taller than she was. "You know you're always welcome here, Sirius, any time. I'll just go and set you up a bed."



"Oh - no - it's fine, Mrs. Potter, I'll just stay tonight - I don't need anything -" Sirius protested.



"No, no, you stay here as long as you need to, Sirius," insisted James's mother.



"Thanks," said Sirius weakly, as Mrs. Potter gave him another quick hug. She then turned and left the kitchen. James walked over to pick up Sirius' trunk.



"Hey, no - I'll do that," said Sirius, moving to take the trunk himself. James noticed that he was trying to conceal a painful limp on his right leg that James knew had nothing to do with Sirius having dropped the trunk on his toe earlier.



"No you won't, mate," said James firmly, grabbing the trunk firmly by its handles and heaving. James staggered backwards with the weight of it, swore loudly, and dropped the trunk on his own foot.



"Yeah I will, mate," said Sirius, the mischievous grin back on his face once more. He heaved on the handles of the trunk and managed to lift it. He was a lot taller and stronger than James, who was slim-built; ideal for the position of Chaser that he played on the Gryffindor house Quidditch team.



The two of them followed Mrs. Potter up the stairs to James' bedroom, with Sirius carrying the trunk. By the time they reached James' room, Mrs. Potter had conjured up a squashy mattress complete with pillows and a duvet on the floor next to James' bed, and she was now busying herself plumping up the pillows.



"Here you are, Sirius," she said spotting him, "I hope the bed's comfortable - sorry it's only temporary; we'll set you up properly tomorrow."



"Thanks," said Sirius, "It's great, thank you."



"Come here, dear, I'll fix up your cuts and bruises - though I have to admit that young James here is far better at it than me - what happened to you anyway, love," Mrs. Potter asked, moving towards Sirius with her wand held out affectionately.



"Nothing, Mrs. Potter, honest," Sirius lied, "I'm fine - don't worry about it."



Mrs. Potter watched Sirius doubtfully for a moment, but didn't press the subject. She simply sighed something about 'male pride', kissed her son lightly on the cheek, bade them both goodnight, and left the room quietly, closing the door behind her.



"Wow," said Sirius, "Your mum's…brilliant."



James shrugged and sat down on the bed. "She's pretty cool," he admitted.



Sirius sat down on the bed beside him. "So," he said, "Have you heard from Moony lately?"



"Yes, I have, actually," said James, "But we'll get to that in a minute - first you need to tell me what happened with you."



Sirius frowned for a moment, as though debating whether or not to tell James to shut up.



"Well," Sirius began, apparently deciding James was worthy of the tale, "After Regulus said…well, said that, I got kind of…carried away."



"Naturally, Padfoot, naturally," said James.



Sirius smiled, and James glimpsed a flicker of pain amongst his friend's features at the movement.



"Yeah…so I hit him a couple of times, and then he got his wand out and jinxed me-"



"What did he use?" James interrupted.



"Levicorpus," said Sirius bluntly, "Which wouldn’t have been too bad had he not dropped me at the top of the stairs to the basement kitchen."



"Ouch," James muttered sympathetically.



Sirius grimaced and then stood up, walking to the far end of the room and turning his back on James.



"Look, mate," James began determinedly, repeating the words that he had said to his friend countless times, "they don't matter. Don't listen to them. You know what's right, and -"



"How can I not listen to them," Sirius spat, turning back to face James, his face set and angry, "They're my family, Prongs. They don't mean anything to me and I hate them, but they're my family. Hell I wish they weren't, but they are, so I'm stuck with them and their pure-blood mania whether I like it or not."



"That's not true," said James firmly, standing up to face Sirius, "That's not true, Padfoot, and you know it. You're not like them and you never will be."



"Yeah, but I'm one of them," said Sirius bitterly.



James stepped forward and seized the front of Sirius's robes.



"You're not," he said in a low voice, "You're not one of them and you bloody well know it, Padfoot, so forget them."



They stood looking at each other for a few moments, James' face hard and determined, Sirius' defeated. James could see dark shadows under his friend's eyes. Sirius looked pale, ill, and worn out, as though he had not slept in days. James recognized that look; he saw it constantly in another close friend.



"Remus," James said aloud.



Sirius started. "Huh," he said, completely perplexed, "No, mate, I'm Sirius."



"I know that," James said exasperatedly, releasing Sirius from his grip, "It's just you reminded me of - I mean, I just remembered that you asked about Moony earlier, that's all."



"Oh…yeah." Sirius shook his head vigorously, rubbing his eyes, like a dog trying to shake off an irritable fly. "So have you heard from him? He hasn't written to me all summer."



"Yeah," said James heavily, sitting back down on the bed and automatically running a hand through his hair, "He wrote to me just after full moon."



"But in your letter to me you said you wrote to him about a week before," said Sirius, sitting cross-legged on the camp bed in front of James. "He took his time answering."



"Well, it was only a week till full moon," James said fairly.



Sirius raised an eyebrow.



"Prongs, even a day before full moon, Moony can manage to write a letter."



James shrugged.



"What did he say about our idea of visiting him?" Sirius pressed.



"See for yourself," said James. He stepped past Sirius and pulled open a draw in his desk, looking for Remus’ reply. "Here," he said, handing a roll of parchment out to Sirius.



"Prongs," (Sirius read)

"Sorry I haven't been able to write much - things have been getting on top of me. Thanks for the offer of visiting - it really would make everything a lot more bearable - but we both know that there's no chance of me being let out of the basement at full moon, let alone being allowed to roam free with you lot. My dad would probably die of shock.



I got a letter from Padfoot a few weeks ago - but I haven't dared answer in case his family gets hold of the letter before he does. I know what they think of people like me and I know they'd be able to find a way to get at Padfoot for writing to me. So if you're in contact with him, pass on my thanks for his letter and apologies for not answering."



Sirius paused. "I haven't dared answer…I know what they think of people like me," he repeated slowly. "I'm guessing he means how my parents think all werewolves are Dark Creatures?" he said testily.



James nodded.



"And that he's a half-blood."



Sirius looked as though he wanted to press the issue further, but thought better of it and returned to the letter. "I know they'd be able to find a way to get at Padfoot for writing to me…" Sirius caught James's eye. "Does he…does he pity me, Prongs?"



"I - no!" James said quickly. But it wasn't quick enough; Sirius had registered the hesitation.



"It's fine, I get it," he said heavily, turning back to the letter.



"Look, Padfoot, he was just-"James began.



"I get it, James."



James fell silent at the use of his real name. There was no way to comfort or sympathize with Sirius without him taking it as an accusation of weakness. Sirius scanned the letter to the end, reading out snippets of Remus’ writing.



"Two weeks till school…how about meeting up in Diagon Ally…I'll write to Wormtail, but I -" Sirius faltered, stealing a harsh glance at James. "I think it would be safest if you wrote to Padfoot, so it doesn't end up causing him any problems - you know what I mean."



"Padfoot," James interjected, "he - he just didn't want to get you in trouble or anything, he-"



"It doesn't matter," Sirius interrupted.



"Padfoot, I-"



"I said it doesn't matter, okay," Sirius spat. He scanned the letter again. "That's pretty much it," he said, his voice returning to its usual casual tones, but with noticeable effort. "Just the usual, write back soon…miss you…love you loads," he joked.



But James didn't laugh. He knew that the jokes were only to try and convince James - and probably in some way to convince Sirius himself - that he was fine. Sirius often steered away from sensitive subjects with jokes; distracting people and pretending that he wasn't taking it seriously - but James had always been able to see right through it.



"Padfoot -" James began, but Sirius cut in.



"I know, Prongs. I'm not mad at Moony, or you, I just…I've had a long day. I need to get some sleep," he said in a tone that told James not to question him further. Sirius climbed into bed, fully clothed, and lay with his back to James.



James opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it again realizing that he had nothing to say. He, too, climbed into bed, quietly turning out the light and stuffing Remus’ letter back into a draw.



"Hey - Prongs," Sirius said suddenly in a low voice, wincing as he twisted round to look at James, "Thanks for… Well, thanks, mate."



James smiled. "No problem."



* * *



James couldn't sleep. He lay awake listening to the sounds of Sirius tossing and turning in his sleep, occasionally letting out sharp, vehement exclamations. Every half-hour Sirius would fall silent and James, cautiously opening an eye, would find his friend restlessly pacing the room in silence, or else sitting hunched in a corner staring into space. James could have sworn that a few times Sirius actually caught his eye, but next moment he had looked away, turning his back on James. The fourth time this happened James spoke, whispering Sirius' name at his turned back, but Sirius would only glance at James before ducking back into a shadowy corner, looking sullen and thoroughly exhausted.

Official Letters

"Filthy blood-traitor!"

His mother’s screeching voice pounded through his head, making his skull ache…

"Disgrace to the name of Black!"

He was being backed into a corner by a man, tall and muscular; his father. He was staggering, stumbling…

"How dare you befoul the house of your fathers?"

His father’s fist swung out of nowhere and collided painfully with the side of his head…bright spots burst in front of his eyes…

"Filth! Scum! Abomination of my flesh!"

A fast flick of a wand – Regulus’ wand…his ankle was wrenched upward, pulling him high into the air…blood rushed to his head, blurring his vision…

"Soiling the name of our ancestors!"

His body twisted violently, his movements now beyond his control…he opened his eyes; first there was nothing but blackness, then a steeply descending stairway flickered into focus…

"Putrid blood-traitor! You disgust me!"

A second flick of a wand and he was released, falling fast into the gathering blackness… He was falling; helplessly crashing into each sharp stone step…There was blood on his arms, his legs, and his chest, seeping through his shirt, dripping into his eyes and mouth… He plunged onwards, the formidable sight of a filthy, stone-paved floor rising rapidly to greet him -

"Padfoot!"

Sirius Black jerked awake. Someone was calling his name and holding him firmly by the shoulders. Sirius opened his eyes and James' kneeling form came into focus, his long, thin face concerned, his untidy black hair falling into his eyes.

"Padfoot?" James repeated, his grip loosening slightly. "Padfoot, are you awake?"

"Prongs," Sirius muttered. He was shaking violently and his arms buckled beneath him as he tried to push himself up. James seized him firmly above the elbows and helped him into a sitting position before shuffling back a foot or so, looking extremely unnerved.

Sirius leant forward on his knees, his face in his hands, half to avoid James' gaze and half to try and control himself. He felt cold sweat beneath his fingers.

"Sorry," he mumbled, looking up, "Did I - did you -" Sirius faltered, unsure of what to say. He paused to think for a moment, his thoughts moving sluggishly through his brain, before he decided to say nothing about it at all. "Do we need to get up or something?"

James raised an eyebrow.

"Mate," he said in a low voice, "you know that's not why I woke you up."

"So…why did you?" Sirius said slowly, knowing and dreading the answer.

"You've been fidgeting and muttering all night, mate, but I just woke up and you were thrashing about like a lunatic, yelling abuse at someone. You were shaking like Hell, Padfoot. You still are."

Sirius wrapped his arms tightly around his knees, pulling them into his chest to try and stop himself from shivering.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Sorry if I kept you awake. You should've kicked me or something to wake me up."

"You've been waking yourself up, mate, don't worry about that," said James with a small smile.

Sirius felt a cold, plunging feeling in his stomach. He hastily composed his face to hide it, raising an eyebrow in what he hoped to be a casual manner.

"There's no point pretending you don't remember, Padfoot," said James overtly, his smile fading, "you spent half the night pacing or else sat in that corner all spaced-out."

Sirius had just opened his mouth to argue when there was a knock on the door. Saved. James shot a last meaningful look at Sirius before moving to open the door. It was James's mother, Dorea Potter, holding a fully laden breakfast tray and a fistful of letters.

"Morning, you two, I just thought I'd -" Mrs. Potter fell silent as she caught sight of Sirius.

"Thanks, Mum," James said quickly, stepping to block Sirius from view and taking the breakfast tray from her.

"Are you alright, Sirius? You look ill," she said anxiously, leaning around her son to get a better look at Sirius. Her voice was so full of concern that Sirius automatically made to stand up and walk away, but his arms buckled beneath him again as he made to push himself up.

"Sirius, are you okay?" she repeated.

"I'm - I'm fine, Mrs. Potter, just - just a bit tired, that's all," Sirius stammered.

"Honest, Mum, he's fine," James insisted, taking the letters from his mother. "Thanks for the breakfast."

Mrs. Potter still looked doubtful, a slight frown creasing her lips.

"Okay then. But, James, make sure you sort out his cuts and bruises, you're excellent with healing charms. I still don't know where you learnt it all."

Sirius felt his stomach turn cold again. The only reason that he and James had studied healing charms so thoroughly was to help heal Remus’ various injuries once a month. The thought of Remus brought the sickening words from the letter back into his mind… "I know they'd be able to find a way to get at Padfoot for writing to me… I think it would be safest if you wrote to Padfoot so it doesn't end up causing him any problems - you know what I mean.� Sirius resisted the strong urge to break something.

"Okay, sure. I'll fix him up," James promised.

"Those letters arrived this morning, Sirius," Mrs. Potter continued, gesturing to the small pile of envelopes that James had taken from her. "Re-directed from 'number twelve, Grimauld Place' - that's your parents house, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is, thanks," Sirius said, the cold weight in his stomach turning to ice.

After several irritating insistences that Sirius was fine and that James would patch him up, Mrs. Potter reluctantly turned and left the room, closing the door behind her.

"Sorry about that," James muttered, bending to pass Sirius the handful of letters.

Sirius hardly noticed his wounds knitting and his bruises fading as James knelt beside him muttering incantations; his full attention was on the fistful of envelopes in his lap. He shuffled through the pile of letters, scanning the addresses, a sense of numb fear spreading throughout his body.

'Mr. S. Black, the front door, number twelve Grimauld Place, London… Mr. S. Black, front path, number twelve Grimauld Place, London… Mr. S. Black, the front garden, number twelve Grimauld Place, London… Mr. S. Black, the gate, number twelve Grimauld Place, London… Mr. S. Black, the road, Grimauld Place, London… Mr. S. Black, the Square, Grimauld Place, London… Mr. S. Black, the pavement, Sables Court, London.'

Seven letters distinctly addressed to him. Sirius turned each letter over and, with a sickening jolt in his stomach, recognized the all-too-familiar wax seal of the Ministry of Magic stamped on the back of every one of them.

Sirius ripped them open.

'Dear Mr. S. Black… We have received intelligence that you performed the Shield Charm at thirty-six minutes past nine this evening… The Summoning Charm at forty-three minutes past nine… The Full-Body-Bind Jinx at fifty-two minutes past nine… The Stinging Hex at one minute past ten… A second Shield Charm at seven minutes past ten… The Impedimenta Jinx at eleven minutes past ten… The Stunning Spell at thirteen minutes past ten.'

Sirius sat, frozen as the words of the seven letters washed over him.

'Further spellwork on your part may lead to expulsion… You are being given a Formal Warning… Your repeated spellwork is at risk of being noticed by members of the non-magical community (Muggles)… This is a breach on Paragraph C of the Degree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery… This is a severe offence under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlock's Statue of Secrecy…Ministry Wizards will be calling at your place of residence if you do not cease to perform magic.'

Sirius felt the colour drain from his face as he spotted an eighth letter in his lap. Sirius read the address, Mr. S. Black, the pavement, Adorma Road, London, fighting back the urge to throw up. He tore it open with shaking hands.

'We have received information that you have executed an illegal, underage Apparition over a distance of approximately twelve and a half miles… The severity of the situation has resulted in the consideration of your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry… You should therefore consider yourself suspended from school, pending further inquiries… Your presence will be required at a Disciplinary Hearing at the Ministry of Magic at ten o'clock on the morning of the twenty-sixth of August -'

"Padfoot." James' voice broke the stream of words in Sirius' head. Sirius held out the letters, feeling oddly numb. James scanned them, the frown on his face becoming more and more pronounced until his jaw dropped at the eighth letter.

"I'm so sorry, mate!" he breathed. "I told you to Apparate!"

"Doesn't matter," Sirius mumbled, "I was going to Apparate anyway."

"A Disciplinary Hearing!" James gasped, "They've never gone that far before!"

"I Apparated, Prongs!" Sirius burst out. "I fought Regulus in the middle of Grimmauld Place! I did seven spells right in the middle of a Muggle street, and then Apparated twelve and a half miles into the middle of a busy road before I tried again and reached your kitchen!"

"You Apparated in the middle of a road!" yelled James.

"Well, how was I supposed to concentrate properly after that?" Sirius shouted.

"I dunno," James muttered, suddenly quiet.

"I'm doomed, aren't I, Prongs?"

James stared at him blankly for a moment, before leaning forward and grasping Sirius firmly by the shoulder.

"You're not doomed," he said, so definitely that Sirius believed him.

"You think so?" said Sirius.

James considered for a moment.

"Well…not just yet anyway."

The Rising Moon

Tap, tap, tap.

Remus Lupin woke with a start, reawakening the heavy, dull pain that had settled in his bones. The book that he had been reading before he had fallen asleep lay open on his chest.

Tap, tap, tap.

Each sound stabbed at Remus’ aching brain. He registered the noise this time and, with a groan of fatigue, hauled himself out of bed. Remus wrenched open the window, wincing at the sharp pain in his wrist, to let in a large, handsome barn owl that he recognized as the Potters’ family owl, Persephone. Persephone dropped a small, sealed roll of parchment into Remus’ outstretched hand before swooping upwards to land neatly on top of the wardrobe.

Remus sank wearily back onto his bed, opening the letter.


Moony,

Padfoot is at my place - he's staying with us until we go back to school. He's left home after a fight with Regulus - long story - we'll explain when we see you. As you'd expect, he's come out of it with another eight Official Ministry Warnings to his name. But that's not all; he's been given a Disciplinary Hearing on the 26th and they say they're "considering his expulsion from Hogwarts.� He's laughing about it now, but you should've seen his face when he read the letters. He only did minor spells; two Shield Charms, a Summoning Charm, a Stinging Hex, an Impedimenta Jinx and a Stunning Spell - but he Apparated. Twice. Once into the middle of a busy road, the pillock, and the second time into my kitchen.
What the Hell do we do?

The Disciplinary Hearing; My Dad's mentioned something about having one of those before and he said you need a defense and a witness and everything. And then he's still got to try and justify what he did. Somehow, I don't think that the truth of him firing random Hexes in the middle of the street because he was mad at his brother, and Apparating over 12.7 miles to run away from home, is going to go down too well with the Wizengamot. Any ideas?

Sorry about the timing of this letter, Moony, but I thought you ought to know sooner rather than later.

Hope you're as well as possible,

Prongs

And Padfoot


Remus read the letter four times before it fully sunk in. Sirius had fought with Regulus; Sirius had run away from home; Sirius was in serious trouble with the Ministry. And all this time Remus hadn't sent a single letter to him.

Remus looked from the small pile of letters from Sirius stacked on his desk to the scrawled signature of "Padfoot" on James' letter and felt hot, sickening guilt pour over him.

He grabbed a quill and began to write.


Padfoot,

Sorry I haven't written to you in so long - I'm guessing that you know that I've written to Prongs, so I'd just like to apologize for not writing back to you. I just didn't want to cause you any more trouble.

I've just got the letter from Prongs - and you.
Eight letters in one night? That's got to be a record, even for you.

I'll get straight to the Hearing. That magic's not that much of a big deal really; you didn't do anything too serious - although they might annoy you about the Stunner. It's the Apparition that's the major offence. If I'm completely honest with you, I don't know how to justify that one just yet, but there's bound to be a way. I'll do some research for you. Prongs said in the letter that his Dad's had a Hearing before. From what he's said to me over the years, it sounds like his Dad's been in more than one tight spot with the Ministry in his time, so he'll probably have heard of - or been involved in - an illegal Apparition case.

I'll get back to you as soon as I can, but that might not be for a few days, seeing as it's full moon tonight.

Don't panic about the Hearing - it'll be fine. You always manage to find some sort of loophole in rules to get yourself off.

Hope you're both okay,

I'll be in touch soon,

Moony


Remus rolled up the parchment and sealed it with a few drops of melted wax from the candle burning on his desk.

"Sephy," He called James' owl down from the wardrobe. "Can you take this to Sirius for me, Seph?" he asked her. The owl hooted softly. Remus, taking that to be a 'yes', handed her the letter to clamp in her beak and took her back over to the open window for her to fly out. He stood there for a while leaning on the sill, exhausted by the aching in his limbs, watching her become smaller and smaller against the evening sky.

There was a knock on the door.

"Remus?" It was his father. Remus called him inside, but his father simply hung awkwardly in the doorway.

"Remus, you'd better get downstairs," he said stiffly. A hot, sickening feeling of panic filled Remus’ stomach. He glanced at his watch.

"It's just gone eight o'clock, Dad. I've got at least another hour before it gets dark."

"I'm not going to take any risks, Remus," his father replied firmly. "You know the rules, so stop trying to bend them."

"I'm not!" Remus protested, "It's just that it's only eight o'clock, Dad. It doesn't get dark till nine, and even then it's almost ten o'clock by the time the moon's up -"

"Remus!" his father snapped, "You're going down later and later each month. You're going to put us all in danger if you stay up here any longer. Now get downstairs."

Remus hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to argue back, but thought better of it. Instead, he reluctantly closed the window and pulled off his shirt; he had only bought it a few weeks ago and was sick of ripping his decent clothes every month.

"That's better," said his father, standing back to allow Remus to pass though the doorway.

Remus walked unsteadily to the doorway, seizing the frame to prevent his legs from collapsing from underneath him. Remus’ mother was standing on the landing, looking sympathetic yet largely ineffectual against the dominant form of his father.

Remus staggered down the stairs, feeling his father's prudent eyes burning into his back. He reached the bottom of the stairs and led the way into the hallway, stopping to face a large stone door. Remus could feel the magic buzzing in the air around him: the twelve soundproofing spells, the sixty-eight reinforcing charms, and the fifty-seven magical locking mechanisms. Remus had learnt them all by heart.

Remus’ father took out his wand and ran the tip of it around the parameter of the door. There was a series of loud mechanical clicks and rattles, and the door swung open.

Remus stood frozen for a moment, staring into the blackness, until he felt the sharp jab of his father's wand in his back and he stumbled down the seven stone steps into the basement. The basement was huge: it was the size of the entire floor-span of his house, but the fact that it had no windows and was made out of a dark, harsh stone made it look a hundred times smaller. Something glittered in the far corner, caught in the harsh beam of light from the open doorway. It was the shackles. Four heavy, iron-wrought shackles, their inch-thick chains bolted three feet underground, set out at the four points of a square, about a meter apart. Remus forced back the urge to throw up and walked towards them. He felt a second nudge from his father and reluctantly dropped onto all fours, kneeling in the centre of the four shackles. Remus’ father tapped each one with the tip of his wand. The chains glowed icy blue for a moment and then lengthened, snaking across the floor, to clamp their shackles around Remus’ wrists and ankles. He shivered. His father tapped each shackle once more and they retracted back into the ground, dragging his limbs with them. Each chain halted when it was half a foot long so as to allow Remus a little give to adjust his position, but not enough to allow his hands or feet to touch. He was, once more, a caged animal.

"We'll come for you in the morning, son," said his father.

His mother nodded silently from the doorway. They had given up trying to speak words of comfort to him long ago; it had only made him feel worse.

The two of them left the basement, closing the door with a bang. Remus heard the sickening mechanical rattles, and raised his head to look at the door. Fifty-seven locks, chains and bolts were sliding back into place. Then a heavy metal panel slid down from the ceiling, hitting the floor with a sickening thud, blocking the door from view - and from reach. Every wall glowed icy blue for a moment, then faded back to their original black as eighty different enchantments were reinstated. He was locked in.

Remus slumped uncomfortably on the floor. He waited. He knew he must try to stay calm, so as to keep his mind as docile as possible as a wolf, but frenzied thoughts were racing through his head. Sirius; the Hearing; expulsion; illegal Apparition, Remus couldn't even make sense of it all. He couldn't settle. It would have been so much better if they had all been there with him: Padfoot, Prongs and Wormtail. But he was alone. He was alone to deal with the helpless panic engulfing his mind. He was alone as his mind and body mutated into that of a monster.

A sudden pain stabbed at Remus’ brain. His joints felt like they were on fire, burning beneath his flesh. Remus scrambled painfully up onto all fours, pulling himself into a position that would, with luck, stop him wrenching his joints out of their sockets as he transformed. He waited. His insides felt painfully hot, then horribly cold. Remus closed his eyes as his limbs began to shake.


* * *


Boom.

"Remus?"

Boom.

Someone was knocking at the door.

"Remus, are you awake?"

The words seemed to take forever to travel from Remus’ ears to his brain. He automatically moved to sit up, but collapsed back onto the floor with a yell of pain as the shackles dug further into the deep cuts on his wrists.

"Remus? Did you say something?"

They could hear him. That must mean it was morning; Remus’ father always disabled the soundproofing charms at eight o'clock in the morning so that he could hear if Remus was awake.

It was morning; it was almost over. Remus’ memory played on fast-forward; the letter - Sirius - the Hearing - the basement - the wolf. He threw up.

"Remus? Are you alright?"

"I'm up," he croaked, raising his head to watch as the metal panel rose back into the ceiling and the many locks, bolts and chains slid inwards. The door swung open.

Remus recoiled, wincing at the sudden blast of light. He tried to haul himself up into a more dignified position but it was hopeless; his limbs collapsed painfully beneath him. His entire left arm was immobile, heavy with an aching pain. His mother ran towards him, dropping to her knees in front of him.

"He's pulled his shoulder out again," she muttered, tapping the shackles with her wand so that they released Remus, slithering back into the ground. His father tapped Remus’ shoulder sharply with his wand and it became wonderfully numb, but Remus still felt his bones shudder horribly as his father shoved the joint back into place. He retched again.

"You look terrible, Remus," his mother murmured, brushing Remus’ hair out of his eyes. Remus grimaced.

"Not one of my better nights," he muttered. Every noise penetrated his skull in short, sharp stabs of pain.

"What were you thinking about?" asked his father, "Did you clear your mind?"

Remus hesitated.

"No," he admitted, "I couldn't."

"Why not?," his father demanded.

"I don't know," Remus groaned. He had little energy left to waste arguing. "I didn't have much time -"

"Didn't have much time? Of course you didn't have much time! Maybe now you'll listen to me about not leaving it too late," his father spat, "Look what's happened this time!"

"It's not like I can control it, Dad," Remus said heavily, "There's nothing I can do about it if I have a bad night -"

"You're not even trying!" his father shouted.

"You bloody try it!" Remus yelled, twisting around painfully to face his father, "Do you think this is easy? Do you think this is fun?"

"I'm not - you know I - you're being -" his father stammered, backing away a few paces, making Remus feel horribly like the wild animal he had been only a few hours ago. "I can't do this right now." Remus’ father stormed form the room, slamming the door behind him.

Remus tried to get up - to follow him - to yell at him - to force him to understand, but he collapsed again in an agonizing heap, groaning and cursing at the pain that seared through his bones.

"I'm sorry, Remus, darling," his mother murmured, pulling Remus into a hug, "Your dad's just worried about you. We both are…"

She patted him sympathetically on the back, holding him close to her. Remus didn't have the heart - or the energy - to tell her that she was hurting him.

Snivellus

James Potter followed Sirius down the steps of the Knight Bus and onto the empty London street.

"That's nine Sickles and three Knuts each, lads," Ernie called after them.

Ernie Prang, the aged driver of the Knight Bus, had risen from his seat and was leaning out of the Bus door, looking expectantly at the two teenagers.

Sirius stopped still, and James walked right into him.

"Watch it, mate!" James laughed. Then he caught sight of the look on Sirius' face. "What's wrong?"

"I -er - don't have nine Sickles and three Knuts," Sirius muttered, staring at his boots, "Sorry, Ern, but I'm kind of broke right now, I -"

"Well what ruddy use is that? You're gonna have to cough up somehow, sonny," Ernie grumbled.

"It's fine, Ernie, I'm paying," said James, digging a hand into his pocket to find the coins.

"No - don't do that, Prongs," Sirius said quickly, batting away James's fistful of silver and bronze.

"What else are you going to do?" asked James, one eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, what else are you going to do, sonny?" said Ernie.

"I'll - I -" Sirius faltered, "I'll just go to Gringotts or something -"

"No you won't," said James. Sirius glared at him. James simply smiled at him. Sirius had always hated taking charity - whether it was anything from a Knut to a Galleon - from anyone.

"No - honest, Prongs - don't -" Sirius protested, but James tipped a handful of coins into Ernie's outstretched hand.

"'Bout time!" Ernie grumbled, slamming the door of the Knight Bus shut. There was a loud bang and a puff of purple smoke, and the Bus vanished. James turned and led the way towards a small, shabby-looking pub called The Leaky Cauldron.

"You didn't have to do that," Sirius mumbled as they walked, talking again to his boots.

"Yeah, I did," said James, "How else were you supposed to pay?"

"Well, I could've…I dunno," Sirius muttered. "Okay, fine. I couldn't have paid. Look, I'll pay you back when I get some gold out of Gringotts."

"No you won't," James said firmly. Sirius opened his mouth to argue but James cut in first. "Mate, you've left home and you're underage - you can't go back home to get whatever money you had there, and you can't earn any money till you're seventeen next year. I'm not going to let you waste nine Sickles and three Knuts on a bloody Bus fare."

Sirius fidgeted awkwardly but didn't say anything. James smiled again and walked ahead of Sirius into the Leaky Cauldron.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Black! It's good to see you two again," called Tom the barman as they walked into the pub, "Haven't seen you lads in a long time."

"Dark times, Tom," said James with a mischievous smile. It was a common excuse for anything and everything now that Lord Voldemort was at large.

"So they tell me, son, so they tell me," said Tom seriously, "You won't be stopping for a drink then?"

James glanced over a Sirius, who had become strangely interested in a burn on a near-by table.

"Er…just two Butterbeers, Tom."

Tom slid the drinks across the bar to James, who in exchange handed him seven Sickles. James handed one of the tankards to Sirius, who grudgingly accepted. Sirius leant against a table, drawing lines in the condensation on his tankard with his finger, but not drinking.

"Drink," James urged.

Sirius threw James an adverse look, drained his tankard in one, and slammed it down on the table with a loud thud.

"Now can we go," he said in a dangerously quiet voice.

James took a long drink from his own tankard.

"Now we can go," he said, setting down his half-empty drink and walking swiftly from the room. Sirius followed him.

"Look, Prongs, I -" Sirius began.

"I pay your fare 'cause you're broke and 'cause that's what friends do, and you get mad at me. I buy you a drink 'cause you're down and 'cause that's what friends do, and you snap at me. I'm just trying to be nice here, Padfoot -"

"I'm sorry, Prongs, I've just -"

"- Had a long day. I know." James turned away and began counting the bricks on the wall infront of them, tapping the occasional one with his wand.

"Prongs, I'm sorry I-"

"It's fine, Padfoot," said James, arranging a smile on his face, "Come on, we're keeping Moony and Wormtail waiting."

Sirius smiled back awkwardly and followed James through the archway that had appeared in the brick wall, and into Diagon Ally.

James spotted Remus and Peter straight away. They were sitting together at a table outside Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour. Peter was shovelling down a foot-tall strawberry sundae as though it was his last day on earth but Remus, who had a small bowl of plain ice cream in front of him, was making no attempt to eat.

"Moony! Wormtail!" Sirius yelled, apparently back to his usual self.

They both looked up, Peter waving frantically at them, Remus beckoning them over. James and Sirius joined them, pulling up extra chairs. Sirius turned his around to sit on it backwards, leaning one arm and his chin on the top of the backrest.

"You going to eat that, Moony," he asked. Remus shook his head, pushing the bowl towards Sirius. Sirius wolfed it down in a matter of seconds. If he hadn't been specifically told otherwise, James would have sworn that Sirius' sole purpose in life was to eat as much as possible.

"So what actually happened with Regul- ?" Remus began, breaking off mid -sentence having caught sight of James, who had been mouthing "shut up" and making frantic gestures from behind Sirius.

"I'm going to Gringotts," Sirius said abruptly, kicking his chair away and standing up. "Need to take out some gold. I'll catch up with you all later."

"Wait, we'll go with you -" Remus began, but Sirius already turned and walked swiftly away.

"Was that because of me?" he asked James anxiously.

"Yes and no," said James. Remus continued to stare at James, completely perplexed. "He's just a bit down about it all right now. He'll come around."

Remus still didn't look convinced.

"Look, let's just give him some space for a bit. Let's go and get your Astronomy stuff, Moony; Padfoot won't be missing anything that way, and he can have some time to cool off."

The three of them walked a little way down the empty street to Ptolemaeus's Astronomy Supplies for Remus to buy himself a new telescope. The shop was completely empty, apart from a scrawny looking wizard wearing a large travelling cloak who stood behind the till. The sight of it made James feel slightly depressed. The streets of the wizarding world had been empty as long as James could remember - ever since the war had started. He had never known Diagon Ally to accompany any more than ten witches and wizards at a time, but it still saddened him to think that, some time ago, these cobbled streets had been - as his parents had told him - so busy that you could hardly move.

James and Peter wandered silently around the shop, closely watched by the shopkeeper, while Remus bought himself a new telescope. Remus rejoined them a few moments later, carefully tucking his money bag and telescope into the battered satchel that he had slung over his shoulder.

"So what did happen with Regulus? Or hasn't Padfoot told you either," Remus muttered in James’ ear.

The two of them slipped unnoticed behind a large stand of spindly silver instruments that James recognized as Lunar Charters, having bought one as a birthday gift for Remus in his third year. Peter, conveniently distracted by a pure gold replica of the solar system, didn't notice them disappear.

"He wouldn't tell me everything, but he told me some of it," James said in an undertone, "He said that he had an argument with his mum about Muggle-hunting, and then Regulus got involved and it all sort of spun out of control."

"Oh," said Remus, looking apprehensive, "So I take it that's when Padfoot started flying Hexes everywhere?"

"Hey - you can't say that he wasn't provoked! The poor guy was thrown down the basement stairs before he got a fair chance at the fight!" James snapped, trying and failing to keep his voice to a whisper.

"I never said that, Prongs," Remus said steadily, "I just mean that Padfoot got a lot of Ministry Warnings that night, and they didn't just appear out of nowhere."

"I know what you meant, Moony, but I'm just saying that the guy's had a pretty hard time of it and you can't blame him for loosing his temper once in a while -"

"Who's had a pretty hard time of what, and who can't you blame for loosing their temper once in a while?" It was Peter.

James turned away.

"Sirius," Remus explained.

"Oh," Peter said heavily, "I should've guessed you were -"

"Yeah, well, enough of talking behind the guy's back - we need to find him," James said loudly, cutting Peter off.

He led the way back into the Ally and up towards Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Sirius was sitting on the stone steps leading to the entrance of the bank, a harsh black silhouette against the pale brick of the building. James could see him tossing a large moneybag between his hands, a slight frown on his face, but this frown vanished the instant that he spotted James, Remus and Peter walking towards him.

"I've got my money," he announced brightly, jumping up off the step to greet them, "So I can pay you back now, Prongs."

"No, don't worry about that," said James quickly, "We'll sort that out later. Let's get our books first."

Sirius allowed the frown to cross his face again, but didn't argue. The four of them entered Flourish and Blotts as each one had around ten new books to buy, but Sirius soon detached himself, stepping down a separate isle than the other three. James, deciding it was best to leave Sirius alone, continued walking with Remus and Peter, pretending to be interested in a book called Horrendous Hexes and Criminal Curses: The Advanced Guide by Professor Vindictus Viridian that Peter had found, when there was a sudden commotion from the next isle. There was a steady sequence of loud thuds, followed by a piercing shriek of anger from the shopkeeper.

James, Remus and Peter hurtled around the corner to find Sirius walking calmly down the isle, one arm outstretched, knocking the books cleanly off the shelves one by one, chased by the livid shopkeeper, Mrs. Holland.

"What do you think you are doing?" she shrieked, picking up one of the fallen books and waving it exasperatedly in front of Sirius's face, "What did you do that for?"

"Why not?" said Sirius bluntly.

"Why not? Because that's unsold merchandise that you're destroying, that's why not!" cried Mrs. Holland.

Sirius shrugged, pulling out his wand to Charm the books back into place.

"Oh, no you don't, laddie! I won't tolerate teenage hooligans wreaking havoc in my shop!"

"I'm not wreaking havoc," Sirius said simply. “I’m cleaning.�

"Don't you dare!" hissed Mrs. Holland. "Now, what's your name, kid? I'll be reporting you!"

"It's Black. Sirius Black."

Mrs. Holland froze.

"Black?" she whispered, "Black, you say?"

"Yup. Sirius Black," Sirius repeated, his face darkening.

"Well, I - no harm done, really - I'll just pop these back on the shelves then - just an accident," stammered Mrs. Holland, hurriedly clearing a path for Sirius through the books, "There you go, son. You - you have a nice day now."

"Thanks," Sirius said smoothly. He slipped his wand back into an inside pocket of his cloak and walked swiftly from the shop.

"Pathetic, isn't it?" he spat once James, Remus and Peter had caught up with him.

"What's pathetic?" asked Peter.

"That was. Just because I'm a Black she let me off. It's pathetic."

"Oh," said Remus quietly, "So that's why you did it."

"What, knocked off the books?" said Sirius, "Yeah. Thought I'd test her to see if she -" Sirius broke off, staring straight ahead. He had become very still, like a wild dog that had just sensed it's prey, a malicious grin sliding onto his face.

"Padfoot? What is it?" Remus asked. But James recognized that look in an instant, a grin to match Sirius' sliding onto his own face. He followed Sirius' gaze and, sure enough, walking straight out of Knockturn Ally was -

"Snivellus."

A skinny, stringy looking teenager was walking past them, his oily black hair jumping about his face. The twitchy manner in which Severus Snape walked reminded James of a spider. If only he was that easy to squash, James thought bitterly.

"Alright, Snivellus?" Sirius said loudly. Snape gave an exceptionally large twitch, but otherwise showed no sign that he had heard Sirius speak.

"What, you're not even going to say hello?" Sirius called mockingly.

Sirius whipped out his wand and gave it a sharp flick in Snape's direction. Snape was dragged suddenly backwards, tripping over the hem of his cloak and falling to the ground. He came to a halt at Sirius' feet, flat on his back, desperately trying to disentangle himself from his robes.

"Had a good summer, Snivelly?" James asked.

Snape scrambled to his feet, cursing, and plunged a hand into his robes for his wand.
Sirius fired a Stinging Hex at him just in time and Snape recoiled, rubbing an angry red scorch mark that had appeared on his forearm.

"No spells from you today, Snivelly," Sirius taunted, "Not until you can learn to play nicely. You need to learn to respect your superiors."

Snape shot a Stinging Hex back at Sirius, catching him on the shoulder. Sirius laughed mockingly.

"Turning my own spells against me, Snivellus? Don't you even have enough brains to think up your own?"

"If you knew!" Snape hissed. "You filthy hypocrite -"

"Hypocrite," Sirius spat, "When have I ever used the same spell as you in a fight? It's pathetic, Snivelly, and even someone as stupid as you should be able to think up their own defense."

"And of course you'd know all about fighting your defense, wouldn't you, Black," Snape said in a low voice, "Of course, you're so excellent at it…"

"What's that supposed to mean?" James snapped.

"Well, I'm only saying that maybe if Black had learnt to practice as he preaches, then maybe he wouldn't have been kicked out."

"Kicked out?" Sirius snarled, "What are you talking about, Snivelly?"

"Isn't it true that the almighty rebellious Black was chucked out of his own home by - unless my information is incorrect - his little brother?"

Sirius froze. Snape leapt at the opportunity and whipped his wand through the air, hissing a curse under his breath.

Levicorpus! James thought, flicking his wand at Snape. Snape was jerked into the air by his ankle, his hair falling over his face like an oily black curtain.

"Don't you dare!" James yelled, but Sirius drowned out his voice with a stream of spells.

Sirius was livid; he was firing curses at Snape one after the other, every one of them hitting him squarely in the chest. The levitation spell shattered, sending Snape painfully to the ground. Sirius shot a Full Body-Bind curse at Snape, immobilizing him, then raised his wand for another.

"Sectumsem-" he shouted, but James wrenched the wand downwards before Sirius could complete the curse.

"Sirius!" he hissed, grabbing Sirius by the arms, "Leave it!"

"Get off me!" Sirius snarled, trying to wrench free of James' grip, but James pulled him backwards, away from Snape.

"Leave it," James repeated, stopping only when he had brought at least four shop doorways between Sirius and Snape. Sirius stopped struggling and turned slowly to face James.

"What did you just say?" he said quietly.

"I told you to leave him," James repeated.

"Since when have you ever stood up for that cringing piece of filth?" Sirius snapped.

"Never," said James quickly, insulted, "But you lost it, mate."

"Lost it?" Sirius repeated, "You think I lost it? That greasy little slime-ball knew! And he was gloating about Regulus -"

"I know, mate, but you can't slice him in half with Sectumsempra in the middle of Diagon Ally! I know this whole thing with your family has been hard for you, but you had no reason to take it out on Snape like that!"

"You’re always saying that there's reason enough in the fact that he exists," Sirius said testily.

"Yeah, to knock him about a bit because he's a slimy little Dark-orientated git, and sure, maybe a bit more because he was gloating about you leaving home, but you can't go slashing people in half in the middle of the street! Not even Snape! Especially these days; people will think you're into the Dark Arts."

"I'm not - you know I'd never - I'm not one of them, James!" Sirius protested.

"I know you're not, but you're acting like it."

James felt a slight chill emitting from Sirius.

"Fine," Sirius said quietly, "I get it."

Sirius turned on his heal and strode down the Alley and out of sight.

"Padfoot!" James called. "Sirius, wait!"

But Sirius didn't turn around.

"Damn it," James muttered.

"What's up?" Remus appeared at James's shoulder.

"Padfoot."

"Ah. Well, I thinks it's best to leave him to - er - cool off, for a while," Remus said awkwardly.

"Yeah…I suppose. I'll talk to him later. I'll have to; I live with the guy now."

"Yeah, you do," Remus said, putting a sympathetic hand on James's shoulder, "Good luck."

"Thanks," James muttered, not all together reassured.

"He'll come around, don't worry," Remus promised.

"Yeah, I suppose. He always does."

"C'mon, Wormtail's getting restless." Remus removed his hand from James' shoulder, turning and walking back to the crumpled black heap that was Snape.

James watched Remus speak the counter-curse to the Full-Body-Bind, pointing his wand dully at Snape. Snape scrambled to his feet, cursing, silver and green sparks spitting from his wand. James watched Snape hurry past, muttering under his breath.

James sighed, still staring blankly down the Ally where he could just make out Sirius' minute form striding furiously back to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Hey, Prongs? You okay?" It was Remus again.

James shrugged.

"Me too," said Remus, leaning heavily on James's shoulder.

"You okay?" James asked, suddenly remembering that it was only a few days since full moon, "How's your…you know…furry little problem?"

Remus smiled.

"Just as furry and problematic as usual," he said grimly.

James patted him sympathetically on the shoulder, but stopped quickly as he felt Remus wince.

"I'm okay," Remus said in response to James' worried glance, "I'm just tired."

James nodded, though not altogether convinced. He looked back down the Ally at the pub that Sirius had vanished into. Had Sirius really crossed the line back there, with Snape? Or was it James who had been out of line?

"It's not you who should be feeling guilty," said Remus. James looked up to find Remus watching him. "It was a decent thing that you did back there."

"A decent thing?" James repeated, appalled, "I did a decent thing for Snape? Kill me, Moony."

Remus laughed.

"Come on," he said, "We ought to follow him."

"Yeah, you're right," James said heavily. He looked over his shoulder and called to Peter, who had been standing several feet away, apparently unsure whether or not to join them.

Peter hurried over to stand on Remus’ other side, grasping Remus’ upper arm to give him a little more support, though James knew it made little difference as Peter had an ineffectual amount of strength to offer. The three of them walked steadily down Diagon Ally, Remus leaning heavily on James, following in Sirius' wake.