Prologue: I was a very small boy when I received the bite





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Your son is a dead weight in your arms. He is as cold as ice, but he is not shivering. He is not moving. Only bleeding. You tilt your face towards his and kiss his forehead. You feel his ragged breath on your cheek. You utter a silent prayer of thanks; he is still alive. You murmur a plea to you son, begging him to hold on, to stay fighting… to stay breathing.





You reach the Manor and step through the threshold. Your husband greets you. His face instantly pales and he falls to his knees. He asks you what has happened, but you cannot reply; your voice dies in your throat. He takes your son from you and cradles him in his own arms, sobbing meaningless words of regret and sorrow. None of those words mean anything to you, for it was him that made this happen to your son. You ask your husband why he made the decision that he did, your voice racked with sobs. You ask him why he did not believe the words of the man that threatened him only a fortnight ago. He does not reply.





You move to take your son from him, but he pulls away. He turns and begins to walk away from you; his son still cradled in his arms. He utters useless words, telling you what needs to be done to save your son. You do not hear his words. You step towards him, summoning all of the strength that you can muster. You pull him around to face you and prise your son out of his arms. You tell him to leave you alone, to leave your son alone. You tell him he has done enough damage already. He moves towards you, to touch his son, to touch you… to hit you. You feel the sing of the pain on your face without registering what has happened. You look into his eyes and see no sorrow there, no guilt and no regret. There is something else in his eyes, something that he is trying to disguise. It is relief. He is glad that he is alive.





The recognition of it sends an icy knife through your heart. You clutch your son to yourself as though he is your lifeline and close your eyes, concentrating every fibre of your body on your destination, and step forward into oblivion.





You arrive. A mass of noise, voices, movement, chaos surrounds you instantly. You can't focus. You cling to your son and bow your head, allowing your memory to guide you. You walk for what feels like an eternity until you hear the noise behind you. A sharp crack shatters the indifference around you. You turn to face its source; your husband. He tells you to give your son to him, that he will ensure that he is cared for. You tell him that you can do the same. You turn your back on him and continue your pace. He calls your name, rushing to match your stride. A Healer passes you and you reach out and touch their arm.





A mass of voices, of bright white rooms, of potions and remedies… then silence. And you are left alone, crying silently. Mourning for your broken son.





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You're crying. You have been for the past twenty-four hours as you stand and watch you son sleeping. You almost laugh: he is not sleeping. He if drifting between life and death.





He is a cursed child now. It isn't his fault. He won't understand. It isn't fair to him, to burden him with this curse. But now he has no choice… unlike his father. His father had the choice between his own death and his son being cursed. You know which you would have chosen. You know that you should be grateful that they are both alive, but your heart reminds you that one of them has had their life taken from them, and you cannot forgive the other from taking it from them.





It's not right. It's not fair. It's not just. But it's real, and it's happening.





Stop crying. Dry your tears: you are not the one who should be crying. You are alive and well whilst your son lies broken before you. You can never heal him. No matter how much you cry for him, hold him, love him… you can never give him back the life that he could have lived. It has been torn from him, leaving him raw and wounded. The way that he will remain for the rest of his life.





As the werewolf that he will remain for the rest of his life.





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He asks you where you are going as you turn to leave the room. You can't bring yourself to reply. He asks you why you are going. You tell him to be brave and that you love him. You walk out of the door. He asks you not to leave him. You close the door. You lock it.





You lean back against the wall and allow yourself to slide to the floor.





You told yourself that you wouldn't do this.





You listen to your son crying softly, and soon you are crying too. Your husband walks towards you and extends his hand to you. You do not take it. You cannot bring yourself to take it, knowing that it was he who has put your son through the torture that he will endure behind that locked door, every month for the rest of his life. Your husband retracts his hand and breaks his gaze on you. His eyes linger instead on the locked door, and you know that he can hear his son crying. He turns and walks away.





You drag a rug towards yourself and curl up beneath it.





You told yourself you wouldn't do this.





You can hear your son crying. You long to open the door, to run to him, to hold him in your arms and allow your love for him to take his pain away. Your hand closes over the door handle.





You told yourself you wouldn't do this.





The sound of your son's crying dies. Your hand tightens on the door handle. You hear your son gasp, hear a soft thud as he falls to the floor. You hear him cry out in pain.





You hear him call your name.





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Chapter One: I Won't Deny That I Am A Werewolf





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It was late February at Hogwarts, and an early spring breeze blew in the grounds, tossing fallen leaves and creating gentle ripples on the sapphire-blue surface of the lake. A warm sun bathed the grounds in a soft, golden glow, and cast cool shadows amongst the trees. Two young teenagers lay in the shadows, relaxing beneath a tall beech tree on the edge of the lake. The first was tall and well built, with long, dark black hair that fell elegantly into his handsome grey eyes, which he had closed serenely against the sun. His name was Sirius Black. The second, James Potter, was shorter and thinner, with jet-black hair that was ruffled and unruly as though it had been jostled by a high wind. He, too, had closed his hazel eyes against the golden sun.





Three teenage girls walked past the beech tree, talking and laughing together. The first was named Emmeline Vance, petite in stature and pale, with long blonde hair that fell to her waist. She walked arm in arm with the second girl, who was a little taller; her short brown hair pinned back with daisy chains. She was named Andromeda Black. The third girl walked a little aside. She had removed her shoes, which she held loosely in her hand by the laces, and was walking in the shallows of the lake, listening and laughing along with her two friends. She was a little taller than her friends, with beautiful deep red hair falling in waves to her elbows, and shone copper-gold in the sunlight. Her name was Lily Evans.





Something bright flashed against James Potter's closed eyelids. He opened them wearily, glancing around for the source. Then he spotted it and smiled wistfully, watching Lily Evans, her hair gleaming brilliantly in the sunlight, walking beside the lake, bending to brush her fingertips across the surface of the water. James leant a little to the side to get a better view of her, raising a hand to shade his eyes from the glare of the sun. Someone laughed softly from beside him.





"What?" James asked challengingly, turning his head to look at the boy beside him. Sirius Black smiled knowingly.





"You'll get bored of her if you look at her too much, you know," he said seriously, rolling onto his side to look at James.





"Nah, I won't," said James, "it's not possible."





Sirius smiled again and lay back on his elbows, tilting his head back to catch the sun.





"Girls will get bored with you if you flaunt yourself too much," said James.





"Nah, they won't," Sirius laughed, "it's not possible." Sirius pulled himself up into a sitting position and leant against the trunk of the beech tree, smiling to himself.





"Sirius?" James said in a low voice.





"Yeah?"





"D'you… Do you think I'm right about Remus?"





The smile slid of Sirius's face.





"I don't know," he said slowly. "But I really hope you're not, for his sake."





They lapsed into a long silence. It was only when the sun began to dip in the sky and the last of the students had vacated the grounds that James spoke again.





"Peter doesn't want to talk to him about it," he said quietly.





"He doesn't?" Sirius said quickly, straightening up and turning to face James.





"I spoke to Peter about it last night. He's always been a bit uneasy -"





"He's absolutely terrified, you mean," Sirius cut in.





James smiled wryly and continued, "he's always been a bit uneasy about it all, but I spoke to him last night and he told me that he reckons it's best if we leave Remus to it."





"He WHAT?" Sirius yelled.





"Yeah, I know," James said heavily. "He said that if Remus wanted us to know then he would have told us by now."





"That's - That's just -" Sirius faltered.





"True?" James supplied.





"Do you think it's true?" Sirius shot at James.





"Well…yes and no," James said steadily. "Peter's right that Remus didn't want us to know. But that's probably only because he was worried about our reaction. And I don't blame him - look at how Peter's taking it."





"Yeah, but Peter's - Peter's being…." Sirius trailed off.





"Peter's reaction is Peter's reaction. It's not the same as us, and even if Remus hates how Peter's taking it - he's still got us, right?" James said defiantly.





"Yeah, he has," said Sirius, "but do you think it'll come to that?"





"Come to what?"





"Peter, you know…leaving us because of what Remus is?"





"I don't know what Peter wants to do about it, but I'm not going to let him abandon Remus," James said forcefully.





"Me neither," Sirius agreed.





"Right," said James, standing up and running an unconscious hand through his hair.





"Where are you going?" Sirius asked, sitting up a little straighter to get a better view of James.





"To Remus. Come on - let's talk to him."





"What? Now?" Sirius spluttered, scrambling to his feet.





"Yes," said James seriously, reaching out a hand to help Sirius up. "We said we were going to do it tonight, and it's getting late. Let's go now, quick, before I change my mind."





Sirius looked apprehensive but did not argue. He simply nodded his agreement and followed James in silence across the grounds to the castle doors. James glanced into the Great Hall as they walked through the Entrance Hall.





"Dinner's over," he informed Sirius, "they'll be in the common room."





Sirius nodded again, and the two of them walked in silence through the empty corridors and deserted staircases until they reached the familiar corridor in which the portrait of the Fat Lady was hung.





"Password?" she asked as Sirius and James approached.





"Fortis Leonem," said Sirius.





"I think that Doctus Pestis would be more appropriate in your cases," the Fat Lady replied.





They both grinned, the approaching conversation with Remus momentarily forgotten, and made low, exaggerated bows to her, Sirius sweeping his hat from his head.





"And I hope that we honour that title?" James said formally. The Fat Lady chuckled at him and swung forwards to admit them. James climbed through the portrait, Sirius close behind him. Their smiles slid of their faces.





"Here we go," Sirius muttered, gesturing to a small figure curled up in one of the large, squashy armchairs beside the fire. James nudged Peter awake.





"Wha - oh, it's you," Peter mumbled, stretching and uncurling himself.





"Come on," said Sirius bluntly, "let's go and find Remus."





"Remus?" Peter repeated. "He's in the dormitory. What do you want him for?"





"To talk to him about his - you know, problem." Sirius said, irritated.





"You're not - but you - why are you -" Peter stuttered, struggling out of his chair. "You're not seriously going to talk to him about it, are you?"





"Course we are," James said forcefully. "We have to tell him that we know."





"But he - but we - you might be wrong!" Peter squeaked.





"Yeah, but we might not be," said Sirius, grasping Peter by the arm and pulling him towards to the staircase to the boy's dormitories.





James allowed himself a faint smile at the scene, and then followed a determined Sirius and an apprehensive Peter through the crowd of chattering students. They climbed the staircase in silence, although Peter opened his moth several times, no doubt to protest, but Sirius silenced him with a look. They reached the second-year dormitories and James crossed the landing to reach the door that led to the room that he shared with Sirius, Peter, Remus and Kingsley Shacklebot. He placed his hand on the doorknob.





"Okay," he said nervously, "here goes nothing."





He swung the door open and stepped inside, Sirius and Peter filtering in behind him.





"Hi, Remus," James and Sirius said automatically.





"Hi," Remus replied, glancing up from the book that he had been reading on his bed.





James and Sirius crossed the room to sit on Sirius's bed, which was next to Remus's. Peter muttered an inaudible greeting to Remus before scurrying to sit on his own bed which, conveniently for him, was separated from Remus's bed by Sirius's. Sirius threw Peter a warning glance before exchanging a nervous look with James and becoming unusually interested in the laces of his left shoe.





"What's wrong?" Remus asked. James glanced up to find that Remus had been watching them, and realised how grave they all must look. He hastily hitched a smile on his face and trod on Sirius's foot to pull him out of his stupor.





"We're fine, Remus," James lied. "We just need to - er - talk to you about something."





"Fire away," Remus smiled, marking his page and laying his book down.





"We - er - We needed to - er -" James faltered, glancing at Sirius and Peter for support. But Sirius was engrossed in his laces once more, and Peter gave a small, frightened, shake of his head before burying himself in a book from his bedside table.





"We know why you get ill," James said heavily. Sirius's head snapped up and James heard a soft thud as Peter dropped his book.





"You do?" Remus said quietly. His voice was very calm, but James saw some suppressed emotion flicker across his face.





"Well, we think we do," James mumbled.





"So, what do you think?" Remus's voice clearly apprehensive now and he would not meet James's eye.





"We think that - er - well, the thing is - er - it seems like you -"





"Spit it out James." Remus spoke calmly, but James flinched as though he had shouted, and found himself horrified at the fear and sadness that he could see in Remus's eyes.





James shifted uncomfortably, glancing around and Sirius and Peter, but both of them were watching Remus. James followed their gaze and saw something that scared him even more than accusing his friend of what he was about to say; there was defeat in Remus's face. James could see it plainly in the deep brown eyes, written in the shadows in his hollow cheeks, and whispering from the scars that crossed his face. James swallowed and threw caution to the winds.





"Are you a werewolf, Remus?"





Remus instantly looked away, James felt Sirius tense beside him. The silence that followed was short, but every bit as painful as its’ previous. James ran a nervous hand through his hair, closing his eyes and exhaling slowly. Remus turned back to face James, but his head was bowed, and he had raised his hands to cover his eyes.





"Yes, James" Remus said heavily. "I'm a werewolf."





James froze.





"You are?" It was Sirius who spoke.





Remus lowered his hands and clasped them awkwardly in his lap. He nodded.





James's brain felt oddly numb. He had been certain that it was true, that he had been right, but some part of him had still hoped that he was wrong. Remus was a werewolf. Remus had been attacked by a werewolf. Remus was enduring agonising monthly transformations, biting himself, tearing his own flesh… James swallowed back the urge to throw up. He raised gaze to look at Remus and found, to his horror, that tears were falling silently down Remus's face.





Remus met James's eye.





"It's fine," Remus said in a choked voice, "I get it. I'll leave." He stood up.





"Remus -" James began, but Remus cut over him.





"I understand. I didn't expect any more of you. I'll leave." He turned towards the door.





James was on his feet, but he couldn't remember standing up.





"Remus," he said quickly, grasping Remus's shoulder and pulling him round to face him, "Remus, please don't -"





"What?" Remus said harshly, furiously drying his face with his sleeve.





"Remus, you don't have to leave! We want to help you!" James said desperately.





"You - you what?" Remus faltered.





"We want to help you," James repeated.





"You want to help me?" Remus breathed, astonished.





"Of course we do! What did you think we were going to do?" James asked incredulously.





"I - I don't know," Remus stammered, still gaping at James. "Don't you - aren't you… afraid of me?"





"Afraid of you?" Sirius laughed. "You're the nicest guy I've met! Your skinny, weedy, a total bookworm - how could I be afraid of you?"





"Easily!" Remus retorted, almost angrily. "I'm a werewolf! Wizards hate people like me!"





"Remus, just because you have a - a problem, doesn't mean we're going to hate you," Sirius said earnestly.





"Yeah, your furry little problem isn't going to stop us being friends with you," James said seriously.





"Furry little problem?" Remus repeated, smiling slightly.





"Well, that's all it is, isn't it?" James said, shrugging. "It's not like it's a big deal or anything."





"You don't think it's a big deal?" Remus said, perplexed. "I turn into a savage, man-eating monster once a month and to you it's no big deal?"





"Not really, if you think about it," Sirius said reasonably, "I mean, we've been friends with you for two years, Remus. All that time you've been a - well, you've had a furry little problem, as our ingenious James puts it - and we were still friends with you. Why should it change anything now that we know?"





"Actually, it does change something," James cut in.





Remus stiffened, as though waiting for a blow that he knew would come. Sirius glared at James, his eyes disbelieving and angry.





"What does it change exactly, James?" Sirius asked, his voice rising dangerously.





"Well, now that we know it changes everything, doesn't it?" James said simply, unfazed by Sirius's reaction. "Remus doesn't have to deal with this on his own anymore. We can help him."





Sirius's face broke into a relieved grin. A flicker of a smile crossed Remus's features, but a moment later he looked worried.





"Help me?� Remus stammered. “James, what in the name of Merlin you talking about?"





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Chapter Two: And They Didn’t Desert Me At All

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“James!� Sirius hissed, leaping down the boys' staircase and grabbing James by the shoulder before he could enter the common room. “James, we can’t let Peter – “

“Not no, Sirius,� James said in a low voice, still keeping his back to Sirius.

“What?� said Sirius. “How can you just – that little bastard is up there – “

“And Remus is in here,� James interrupted, and he took Sirius’s hand off his shoulder and strode through the door in front of them and straight into the common room.

“Bloody stubborn Potter,� Sirius muttered and shoved open the door, storming into the common room after James. He made straight for the unruly shock of black hair visible over the back of the sofa and, bracing his hands on the back rest, flung himself over the back of the sofa to land roughly beside James. Someone laughed.

“You’re a little short of elegance, aren’t you, Black?� It was Remus.

Sirius gave Remus a genuine smile before trying to exchange a glance with James, but James would not meet his eye. He wouldn’t meet anyone’s eye; he was staring pointedly at the chess board on the small coffee table between their sofa and Remus’s armchair.

“Fancy a game of chess?� James said abruptly.

Remus, who had a moment before been eyeing James with a look of anxiety, instantly relaxed. He smiled in response to James’s frown.

“Yeah, sure. Best out of three?� he offered.

“And I’ll play the winner,� Sirius put in.

Remus set up the pieces and turned the board so that James could have the white pieces. Remus and Sirius both leant forward, awaiting James’s move, but James simply sat there, absent-mindedly flicking the white bishop’s hat. Sirius nudged James in the ribs.

“Oi, wake up, mate.�

“Huh – what?� James looked up from the bishop, a slight frown still clear on his face.

“Whites go first in chess,� REmus reminded him.

“Oh, right, yeah…�

After what felt like hours of Remus politely ushering James’s pieces off the board, Sirius began to lose interest; it just wasn’t entertaining unless James was playing his usual tactics of crushing Remus’s pieces to dust, or else losing all patience and flinging them unceremoniously out of the window.

Remus’s queen was just in the process of kindly helping James’s knight off his horse when a shadow fell over the board. Sirius glanced up and tensed, his momentarily forgotten anger quickly returning.

It was Peter.

James shot Peter a look that made him recoil, but Remus greeted him with a smile.

“Hey, Pete,� he said happily, before surveying the board and announcing, “Check mate! James, you’re useless tonight.�

James congratulated Remus half-heartedly and pushed his remaining pieces off the board. Then he turned to Peter.

"Well?" he said expectantly. "What'll it be?"

Sirius saw Remus frown slightly out of the corner of his eye. Sirius raised an eyebrow at Peter and quietly cracked his knuckles.

Then, to his complete surprise, Peter hitched a grin onto his face and scooped the white pieces into his hands.

"Can I play, Remus?" he asked, kneeling down to face the board.

"Of course," Remus said, smiling.

Sirius exchanged a shocked glance with James.

"Hey, Remus," Peter said quietly once his pieces were set up. "You know we're cool with it, right?"

Remus looked up, beaming.

"Yeah, I do," he said gratefully. "Thanks, guys."

James leant forward and rumpled Peter's hair, smiling. Sirius, feeling all the anger drain out of him, nudged Peter's knee with his foot and gave him a small smile. Peter smiled back.

Remus opened his mouth for a moment, but then shook his head and closed it again, deciding instead to lean forward and pull them all into an unexpected, bone-cracking hug.

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"It's hopeless," James groaned, slamming the heavy leather-bound book shut and dumping it on the floor.

Sirius had been sat in the library with James and Peter for over three hours and none of them had had any luck in finding the slightest scrap of useful information within the vast amount of volumes on the shelves.

"It's not hopeless," Peter said, retrieving the book from the floor and setting it back on the table. "There has to be something in one of these stupid books…"

He began flicking through the pages of the book, scanning random paragraphs, before discarding the book altogether and picking up a new one. He repeated this process several times before Sirius seized the entire stack of books and flung them across the table where they skidded over the edge and onto the floor with a loud thud.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"

"Damn," Sirius muttered, shifting his chair a little to the left in an attempt to hide behind James.

"Utter disrespect! Defacing school property! Out - OUT!"

Sirius stood up immediately, seizing his bag, and made a break for the door, stealthily dodging past a furious Madame Pince who was brandishing her wand at him and screeching loudly.

He slowed to a walk once he had reached the end of the corridor, and slung his bag over his shoulder, glancing at his watch as he went. It was a quarter past six; fifteen minutes until his detention with Slughorn. He ought to get going.

Sirius strode down the corridors, stopping to chat to anyone that he knew, attempting to delay his meeting with Slughorn as much as possible. It wasn't Sirius's fault that Snape's cauldron happened to explode… and that Sirius just happened to be pointing his wand in that direction at the time…

He reached the entrance to the dungeons and squared his shoulders, tightening his grip on his wand; Slytherins would be lurking around here, and Sirius hadn't yet had his daily anger-release.

A tall, skinny, scrawny-looking boy was walking about ten paces ahead of Sirius, his head down and his hands jammed into his pockets. The boy walked in a jerky manner, his long, greasy black hair twitching about his face.

Sirius grinned and quickened his pace, catching up with the boy in a matter of seconds.

"Why, hello… Snivellus."

Chapter Three: Sirius Played A Trick On Him Which Nearly Killed Him

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"Why, hello… Snivellus."

Snape whirled around, plunging his hand into his robes in search of his wand.

"Expelliarmus!" Sirius barked, and Snape's wand flew out of his hand and fell to the floor several feet down the corridor, clattering on the hard stone.

"Alone, Black?" Snape hissed. "No escorts?"

Sirius raised his eyebrows.

"I don't need and escort to go to a detention, Snivellus," said Sirius. "We're talkative today, Snivelly, aren't we? Or is that because you're only facing one of us?"

Snape sneered.

"Let me guess," Snape said softly, bending to pick up his wand, careful not to look away from Sirius.

Sirius didn't stop him; he hadn't had a chance to vent his anger in quite a while and a duel with Snape would be almost welcome.

Snape straightened up and continued in a low, taunting drawl, "Pettigrew is off eating thirds in the Great Hall -"

"Hey - "

"Potter is busy inflating his head on the Quidditch pitch -"

"Shut - "

"And poor old Lupin is away being ill in the grounds."

"You - wait a second, what did you just say?" Sirius said sharply, his heart suddenly racing.

Snape's sneered.

"I said that Pettigrew's off - "

"No, the bit about Remus," Sirius interrupted.

Snape's sneer widened.

"You're not telling me you, almighty love-God and Marauder Black, doesn't know Lupin's little secret?"

"I - Of course I do, I was just surprised that you did," Sirius said, improvising wildly. "How long have you known?"

"A while," Snape said vaguely. "So, tell me, Black - what is Lupin doing in the grounds every few weeks with Madame Pomfrey?

"I - " Sirius faltered for a moment. Then an idea struck him, and he had to try hard to conceal the grin that threatened to crack on his face. "What, you mean you don't know, Snivellus?" Sirius taunted.

Snape frowned, confused.

"I mean, pretty much everyone knows, it's no big deal," Sirius lied wildly. "Remus goes to the Whomping Willow, as you probably know by now. Loads of people know, they just don't talk about it because, well, frankly it's not that interesting."

"The Whomping Willow?" Snape repeated. "Lupin can't go in there, Black, you're lying. It's a tree, you can't go inside a tree, and even if it is hollow Lupin would be killed before he got within ten foot of the thing.�

"The tree is hollow, Snivelly," Sirius snarled. "I can't believe you don't know this. The tree's so easy to master even you could probably do it." Snape hissed angrily but Sirius ignored him. "All you have to do is grab a long branch or something and press the big knot on the base of the Willow and it freezes. There's a hole in the bottom of the Willow that you go through."

"And you're just… telling me this?" Snape said slowly, suspiciously.

Sirius shrugged. "Why not?" he said casually. "Everyone else knows how to get in, they just don't go there because it's no big deal and, well, it's Remus's place. It's only fair to leave him alone."

"I don't believe you, Black," Snape said in a low voice.

"Fine," Sirius snapped. "If you don't believe me, follow Remus down there tonight and freeze the Willow and bloody well go down there yourself."

Sirius shoved Snape aside and strode down the corridor.

"Fine!" Snape yelled after him. "Fine then, I will! Tell Lupin to expect me! If it's true, that is!"

Sirius started to laugh but then quickly stopped himself in case Snape heard. He strode into the dungeon classroom, grinning, the happiest he'd probably ever been beginning a detention in the dungeons.


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"He's going to throw up."

"Nah, he's not. He's just choking."

"Either way it's asphyxiating him."

"It's - what?" Sirius fixed Remus with a confused look. Sirius had entered the dormitory after his detention to find Peter on his hands and knees, coughing in a corner, James doubled up with laughter on his bed, and Remus watching the scene with a reproachful, but slightly amused look in his eyes.

"Asphyxiating," Remus repeated. "It means that it's suffocating, strangling or preventing him from breathing."

James raised his eyebrows and exchanged an amused glance with Sirius.

"A - little - help!" Peter gasped.

"Oh, right! You're choking!" Sirius said loudly, smacking himself on the forehead with a hand and striding over to Peter. He clamped his arms around Peter from behind and performed and unnecessarily violent Heinrich Manoeuvre. The Cauldron Cake that Peter had been choking on flew out of his mouth and landed with an unappetising splat on the floor.

"Lovely," James muttered, pulling a revolted face at the brown mush before turning to Sirius. "Where'd you learn that? Isn't that a Muggle thing?"

Sirius simply pointed to Remus.

"I knew that no good could come from teaching you that," said Remus.

"What do you mean, no good can come from it? I just saved Peter's life, didn't I?" Sirius protested.

Remus sighed heavily. "Firstly, Peter's hardly going to die from choking on a Cauldron Cake and secondly, there's a much easier way."

"How?" Sirius asked fervently.

"The Emisitus Charm," Remus told him.

"So how do you -"

"We are not going into this," Remus cut in bluntly, quickly seizing a book from his bedside table and burying himself in it.

"I'll show you," James offered instantly, pulling his wand from an inside pocket of his robes.

Sirius grinned appreciatively.

"But first we need someone choking… Wingardium Leviosa!" James flicked his wand at a stray Knut that lay on the floor, and it rose smoothly into the air.

"Oh no - James, no way - don't you dare -"

James flicked his wand a second time and the Knut zoomed into Sirius's mouth. Sirius choked and clutched his throat, slowly turning a faint shade of purple.

"Now Sirius is being asphyxiated," Peter observed, wheezing slightly.

"Emisito!" James said sharply, pointing his wand at Sirius.

There was a loud noise like that of a plunger being pulled from a sink, and the Knut flew out of Sirius's throat like a bullet, and sped across the room so fast that it shot straight through the dormitory wall, leaving a small round hole in the stone.

"Woah," Sirius breathed, raising a hand to feel his throat and swallowing slowly. "Can I try it out on someone?"

Remus raised his book to hide his face entirely mumbling, "I would just like to state for the record that I am not involved in this whatsoever."

"Yeah you are," Sirius said, grinning. "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The Gobstone that Sirius had been pointing his wand at leapt into the air and bolted down Remus's throat. Remus choked, dropping his book as his hands flew to his mouth.

"And now Remus is being asphyxiated," Peter said brightly.

"Emisito!" Sirius said loudly, aiming his wand at Remus's throat.

The Gobstone sped out of Remus's mouth and shot across the room. Peter let out a high-pitched squeak and ducked just in time to allow the Gobstone to soar over his head and hit the dormitory wall with a little thud.

"Not quite up to my standards, Sirius," James said, grinning, indicating the Knut-shaped hole in the wall beside him. "But not bad at all. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that it was pretty good."

"Pretty good?" Remus gasped. "He stuck a Gobstone down my throat and made a dent in the dormitory wall, and you think it was pretty good? I can't help but notice that one person in this room still remains un-asphyxiated. "

"Ah, come on now, Remus, I thought you weren't getting involved?" James joked lightly, thought he looked a little apprehensive as he was the person that Remus was referring to.
Remus paused for a moment, as though struggling with himself, before heaving to his feet and staggering to the door.

“I’m not,� he said smartly. “I am walking away, I am not getting involved…�

“Where’re you going?� James demanded, standing up instantly to support Remus.

“Hospital Wing; it’s nine o’clock.�

"Good luck," James and Peter chorused.

Sirius raised his hands in a double thumbs-up that made Remus smile weakly.

Remus walked, supported by James, to the door.

"I'll go with you," Peter offered, hurrying to Remus's side and taking over from James. James closed the door after Remus and Peter, and flopped back down on his bed. Sirius grinned at him, unable to help himself, and began tapping his foot impatiently.

“What's up, Sirius? What’re you so happy about?� James asked him.

“Snivellus,� Sirius said with relish.

“Anything that can make you say his name in such a happy tone must be bad, Sirius,� said James, smiling and raising his eyebrows expectantly.

Sirius laid back on his bed and folded his arms behind his head. James jumped on the bed, jolting Sirius up, but Sirius didn't move.

"What've you done, Sirius?" James said in a grave voice.

Sirius laid back and enjoyed a good twenty minutes of attempted interrogation before he said, "Look out of the window, James."

James stood up slowly, his expression suspicious, and turned to the dormitory window. His jaw dropped.

"Snivellus!" James gasped. "Sirius - Snape's there! In the grounds! He's - He's freezing the Whomping Willow!"

Sirius smiled but didn't move. So, Snape really was a stupid as he looked…

"Sirius - Sirius get over here, Snape's - "

"I know," Sirius cut over him calmly. "That's why I told you to look out of the window, you idiot."

James spun around to glare at Sirius, fuming. "What - you - ?"

"Yes, me," Sirius said, laughing. "I ran into him on my way to detention and he started insulting you guys, as usual, but he let slip that he knew about Remus going to the grounds every few weeks. So, to shut the slime ball up, I tricked him into going to the Willow. That'll teach him not to insult Remus."

James gaped at Sirius for a few moments and then slowly shook his head.

"You pillock, Sirius.," he said in a hollow voice, and then he leapt onto his bed, seized something long and silvery from beneath his mattress, wrenched open the dormitory door and sprinted down the boy's staircase.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Sirius hurtled out of the castle doors, trying in vain to make out James's footprints in the grass, but it was impossible; the Invisibility Cloak made him untraceable, and the depressions in the grass could have been made by anyone during the day.

Sirius unconsciously gripped his hair. He didn't care what happened to Snape, really. Remus could eat him for all Sirius cared, but James just had to complicate things, didn't he?

"James!" Sirius hissed into the semidarkness. "James, come back!"

Silence. Then the Whomping Willow froze. Sirius groaned under his breath and was about to break into a run after James when someone called his name.

"Sirius?"

Sirius spun around. Peter was standing in the open castle doors.

"Sirius, what are you doing?" Peter whispered. "Are you going after Remus?"

Sirius shook his head dully, struck dumb.

"What are you doing?" Peter repeated.

"Nothing," Sirius said stupidly. "What are you doing?"

"Well, I went to the hospital wing with Remus and ran into Lucius Malfoy on the way back," Peter explained, indicating his slightly smoking eyebrows. "And then I came to see why the castle doors were open."

Sirius nodded again.

"Sirius, what are you doing?" Peter asked again.

"I - Peter, I've got to go into the Willow. Go back to the common room - I'll explain later - "

"No!" Peter squeaked boldly. "You can't, Remus'll kill you - literally."

"No, Peter, you don't understand - " Sirius began to protest, but Peter cut over him.

"You can't go! Remus told us never to go with him - " Peter ran forward, grabbed Sirius's arm and attempted to pull him back into the castle, with no success.

Sirius pulled back, sending Peter sprawling to the ground.

"Peter, please, go back - "

"No! You can't, Sirius, you'll get bitten - " Peter froze, half-way through standing up, his mouth open in shock.

"What - ?" Sirius whirled around to follow Peter's gaze.

The Willow had frozen again, and two figures were climbing out of the gap between the roots.

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