Rain was thrashing against the roof when James jerked awake in his bed. Disoriented, he fought free from the tangled bedclothes, groping for his glasses and wand on the bedside table. He was just trying to remember what had woken him up when it came again: a faint clanging was sounding urgently from downstairs. Finally recognising the sound of the bronze doorknocker, James swung his legs out of bed, jammed his glasses on his face, and squinted up at the clock on his wall. Pale moonlight picked out the miniature Cleansweep broomsticks that served as clock hands; both pointed directly at the twelve. With a tingle of anticipation, he wondered who on earth would be visiting this late. Nevertheless, he wrapped himself in his bathrobe, grabbed his wand, and started downstairs as the clanging rang through the house for a third time.

James paused in the entrance hall; keeping his wand trained on the oak front door, he padded quietly across the tiled floor and pressed an eye to the peephole. The porch light that magically illuminated visitors the moment they reached the doorstep shone a garish orange against the stormy night. It took a moment for James to recognise the soaked, disheveled figure standing on his porch, but the second he did, he wrenched the door open and swung it wide.

For a moment the two boys locked eyes, completely lost for words. Then Sirius Black cracked a smile and cocked his head.

‘Hey, James. Mind if I kip here tonight?’

James stared, his heart sinking. The strained expression on his friend’s face bore no resemblance to Sirius’s trademark dashing grin, and his voice couldn’t quite make the cut of casual. Perhaps the other sensed this, for Sirius recovered sufficiently to raise an amused brow and look pointedly past his friend into the dark house. James stepped hurriedly back.

‘Yeah, sure, come on in.’

Sirius tramped into the hall, lugging his school trunk behind him, to which his broomstick and empty owl cage were strapped.

‘Pandora’s out hunting, reckon she’ll find me here soon enough. Sorry I didn’t owl first. I, er…sort of left in a hurry.’

Sirius was avoiding his friend’s eyes, and James noticed a tremor in his voice despite the determinedly nonchalant posture he was adopting.

‘Merlin, Sirius,’ he said softly. ‘What happened?’

‘Oh…you know.’ Sirius stared somewhat vacantly into the hall, ‘Got into it with my family, had a big row, and I, ah…left. For good,’ he added, now frowning at the tiled floor.

‘For good?’ James gasped. ‘You mean, you ran away?’

Sirius gave a short, bark-like laugh, ‘Well, I prefer to think of it in rather more manly terms, but that about sums it up.’

The show of indifference was troubling, but James didn’t press.

‘Why don’t you come on into the kitchen, I’ll—get you a cup of tea or something.’

Sirius nodded and followed mutely as an increasingly concerned James led him out of the entrance hall.

* * *

Once in the warm glow of the Potters’ cozy kitchen, James used the pretext of making tea to sneak an appraising look at his friend. Out of the shadows of the hall, Sirius’s appearance was an unpleasant shock. Pale and wan, he sat slumped quietly at the table, his sopping black hair hanging limply over his face. A moment later, James suspected this might be intentional, as he noticed an angry-looking welt stretching from Sirius’s temple down his cheek. Stomach twisting sickly, he set a steaming mug on the table, and leaned against the counter, cupping his own mug in his hands.

‘What happened there?’ he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

Sirius shrugged. ‘It’s nothing; things just got a bit heated…Mum fired off a stinging hex, guess I wasn’t quick enough.’ He tried to grin as though sharing a joke, but at James’s silence gave up. Shifting in his seat, he played with the mug in his hands.

James stared. The situation with Sirius’s family had gotten increasingly worse over the years, and in the past year especially. But he had never seen his friend like this.

Sirius sensed James’s anxiety, and shot him a look of annoyance. ‘Oh come on, James, it’s not that bad. I mean, really, I would have left a long time ago if it wasn’t for Reg…but I guess that excuse has been worn out for a while now.’

‘What do you mean?’ James asked, noting the sudden bitterness in his friend’s voice.

Sirius took a gulp of tea. ‘He wants to join them,’ he muttered around his mug.

There was no need for James to ask who ‘them’ was. He knew that Regulus Black had become obsessed with the rise of the Dark wizard who was calling himself Lord Voldemort. He also knew it must be killing his friend to have to stand by and watch.

‘Maybe he’ll change his mind,’ he offered, somewhat lamely. ‘No way the Death Eaters would take him for several years yet.’

‘Yeah...’ Sirius didn’t sound convinced. He looked shaken and tired, as though all the energy had suddenly drained out of him. Silence stretched again in the kitchen. James cast around for something reassuring to say that wouldn’t sound like he was being comforting. Sirius was very particular about that sort of thing. Wishing fervently that Remus was there, James masked his awkwardness by rummaging around in the cupboards.

‘Look, I know Dad hides some Odgen’s in here somewhere, we could make that tea a bit stronger.’

Sirius smiled thinly. ‘No, thanks. If your mum found out she’d kill us. Getting kicked out of one house is enough for the night.’

‘Wait, you got kicked out? I thought you left.’

‘I did leave. And as I was going my mother blasted me off the tapestry. Whatever. Comes to the same thing.’

James stood, empty hands hanging at his sides, and braced himself to ask the question that had been hanging in the air since his friend arrived.

‘So…why’d you leave this time? I mean…it must’ve been pretty bad.’

Sirius barked another humourless laugh, and James fought the impulse to wince. He knew that mannerism and what it implied.

‘They started talking about…ah…werewolves.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah…well, you know the usual bit. “Filthy half-breeds�…Dad came home from the Ministry, full of this foul new legislation he’s trying to get passed. Increased registration regulations…and some relocation crap…it’s all convoluted, but the upshot is it would make it literally impossible for anyone with lycanthropy to get a job in the Wizarding world, or own a house, or live with anything approaching dignity…as if it isn’t hard enough already.’ Sirius put his face in his hands in frustration, only to jerk up again as he brushed the welt on his cheek.

James fumbled with his own mug, pretending not to notice.

‘And I thought of Remus, and I just couldn’t stand that they would do something like that to him, people like him, without a second thought. Even if they knew him, I think.’ His mouth twisted in irony. “They wouldn’t see Remus as human.’

‘Merlin…’ James murmured again, running his hand through his messy hair. He felt disgust, and the beginnings of fear. Surely such legislation would never go through?

‘Yeah.’ Sirius’s voice cracked. ‘And then it just sort of hit me. This was my family. I don’t think I’ve ever hated them more.’

‘So…you snapped?’ James prompted.

‘Wouldn’t you? I had to say something, I couldn’t just sit there and listen to them talk like that.’ He gazed into his empty mug. ‘Don’t tell him, James,’ he said quietly.

‘Who?’ asked James, though he thought he knew.

‘Remus. I mean, don’t tell him what started the fight. You know how daft he is about that stuff, he’ll go blaming himself.’

‘I wouldn’t.’

‘I know,’ Sirius sighed, suddenly looking much older than fifteen. ‘I just know you two talk about me sometimes, so I thought I’d mention it.’

‘I—we—we don’t talk about you!’ This was an outright lie, and the look Sirius threw him told James his friend knew it. ‘Well,’ he relented, ‘I mean, I update him now and then. It’s really hard to get you to talk about your family in the first place!’ he defended himself. ‘And if you finally tell something to one of us, it makes sense not to make you tell the other one too! It’s kind of like an assembly line,’ he joked. ‘You tell me, I summarise to Remus, and Remus gives a delicately-worded synopsis to Peter. Or sometimes the other way round,’ he mused, ‘Although poor Peter is always the last to know. Voila, we get the important news with minimal energy expended on your part.’

Sirius snorted. ‘How efficient.’

‘Sorry,’ muttered James, suddenly unsure.

But Sirius shook his head. ‘No, mate, I knew all along. I actually really appreciate it. I’m just being a cranky git.’

‘Well, you’ve had a rough night,’ James suggested lightly. For a moment neither boy spoke. ‘Look, don’t worry about Remus,’ James offered finally. ‘We’re so close now—we just need to nick a couple more things from Slughorn’s office. We can probably join him as Animagi in September—the full moon comes later that month. It’ll be better then.’

‘Yeah…’ Sirius murmured, but James could tell he was preoccupied. The silence stretched again.

‘I told my father he disgusted me. Well. I told him a lot of things.’

James grimaced. ‘Bet that went over well.’

‘Oh yeah. And my mother was right there, too, so it all blew up pretty quickly. I think it was Reg that really set me off, though.’

‘With the Death Eater stuff?’

Sirius shook his head. ‘Nah. Well, yes, but that’s been coming for a while. It was just…when Dad was talking about that legislation, he was just sitting there, chipping in like an idiot, lapping it all up. I guess…I finally realised it was useless, you know?’

James was afraid to say anything. He could count the times on one hand that Sirius had opened up about his brother, with fingers to spare. Fortunately, Sirius was staring at the table again, and didn’t seem to need an answer.

‘I mean, I know he got into Slytherin and all, and he’s always been a bit of a prat, but… he used to listen to me, when we were younger—and I always sort of thought it was good for him to have me around, at least he heard some different opinions now and then.’ He laughed again, and James did wince this time. ‘Shows what an idiot I was. Should’ve realised. I’ve been fighting this pureblood crap since…’ He made a weary gesture. All your life, James thought.

‘I just kept sort of forgetting he’s only a year younger than me. But then…he was saying when the right people are in charge, they won’t have this kind of trouble pushing stuff like that through.’ Sirius threw him a dark look. ‘We all knew what he meant by “the right people.�’ He swallowed, and sat back, suddenly resembling the cool, implacable figure his father cut. ‘So, clearly he made his choice. Just like I have. ‘Bout time I wised up.’

‘James?’ A worried voice sounded from the hall, making Sirius jump and shattering his indifferent façade.

Sirius shot James a single, panicked look.

‘It’s okay, Mum,’ James called quietly, hurrying around the table to meet his mother in the doorway. ‘It’s just Sirius,’

‘Sirius?’ Margaret Potter’s voice rang with the concern James himself had been so careful to hide.

Sirius twisted in his seat, trying an insouciant grin and failing spectacularly. ‘Evening, Mrs Potter. Sorry to barge in and all.’

‘Sirius, what on earth’s the matter?’ Mrs Potter pushed past her son to bend over his best friend. ‘You’re soaking wet, and it’s la—what happened to your face?’ she gasped.

‘It’s nothing, Mum,’ James interjected swiftly.

‘Really, it’s fine,’ Sirius assured her.

James quailed under the black look his mother threw him, praying she wouldn’t ask too many questions. He tried to communicate this through his eyes without Sirius noticing. He must have succeeded in some measure, for his mother’s lips suddenly compressed the way they always did when the subject of Sirius’s family came up, and though her face was pale with anger when she turned back, she summoned a casually cheerful tone that put both boys’ efforts to shame.

‘Well, time enough for talk later. First things first! James, why didn’t you wake me earlier, letting him sit here in those wet robes!’ Not waiting for an answer, she procured a short wand from her bathrobe and gave it an expert wave that left Sirius as dry as though he had never set foot outside.

‘Thanks,’ Sirius said gratefully.

‘Not at all, Sirius, dear. It’s a wonder you didn’t catch your death in this draughty kitchen; I don’t suppose you could have gotten him a towel, James? And where’s Hoppie? She could warm up some leftovers.’

‘S-Sorry?’ apologised James, unsure what to address first. He looked bewilderedly at Sirius, who was beginning to smile.

‘Let her sleep,’ Sirius suggested, referring to the Potters’ ancient house-elf. ‘I’m really not that hungry. And although I agree your son is a reprobate, to his credit, he did make me tea.’

‘Hmpf,’ Mrs Potter huffed, though the corners of her mouth twitched suspiciously. But her expression sobered quickly as she drew up a chair next to Sirius. ‘Now let me have a look at that face,’ she said gently.

Sirius stiffened. ‘It’s nothing, you don’t have to,’ he muttered.

‘Nonsense,’ she said briskly. ‘I hope I am witch enough to manage a simple healing charm. Now hold still.’

Sirius did as he was told, face slightly pink as Mrs Potter brushed back his hair to get a clear view of the welt, still an angry shade of red. James tried not to imagine a raging Walburga Black slashing her wand through the air in the drawing room of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

Moments later Mrs Potter leaned back, satisfied with her work. Sirius rubbed his newly unmarked face and smiled self-consciously.

‘Thanks.’

‘Of course, dear,’ Mrs Potter murmured, her eyes rather bright.

‘So, Mum,’ James announced, more to break the awkward silence than anything, ‘Sirius was just going to kip in my room.’

‘If that’s okay,’ Sirius put in hurriedly, rising from his chair. ‘I mean, just for the night. I’ll find a room tomorrow.’

There was a short silence as Mrs Potter stared and James realised his friend had implied more than he’d meant to.

Mrs Potter frowned. ‘Of course you can sleep here tonight, Sirius, but I think you’d best tell me what’s going on,’ she said quietly, looking from one to the other.

James opened his mouth to put her off again, but Sirius beat him to the punch.

‘I left home,’ he stated with admirable bluntness, though his eyes avoided Mrs Potter’s.

The sentence hung in the air for several long seconds, during which James looked anxiously from his mother to his friend. Then—

‘Oh, darling,’ Mrs Potter whispered, and without warning wrapped Sirius in a crushing embrace.

‘Mum,’ James groaned. ‘You’re suffocating him! I’m vicariously embarrassed here.’

Having stifled an unmanly yelp of alarm, Sirius stood stiffly locked in Mrs Potter’s arms, looking entirely unequal the situation. James shrugged helplessly.

‘It’s all right, Mrs Potter,’ mumbled Sirius, the very picture of mortification as he patted her awkwardly on the back. ‘It’s really not a big deal. I mean, it’s not like we liked each other or anything.’

Mrs Potter made a choked little sound and finally let him go, holding him at arm’s length. ‘You are going to live here from now on,’ she informed him fiercely.

‘What? I—no—I can’t…’ Sirius stuttered.

‘Don’t be ridiculous, of course you can! You’re practically part of the family as it is. Besides, you’re underage, you can’t live on your own.’

‘That’s brilliant, Mum!’ James exclaimed gratefully. He had been going to suggest it himself and was glad to be spared further awkwardness.

‘But I—’ Sirius looked uncertainly between the two of them. James could tell how much he wanted to accept the offer; he could almost see his friend struggling with his pride.

‘I—look, I’m sixteen in November, I can stay at Hogwarts over holidays and then it’s only one more summer till I’m of age…’

Mrs Potter snorted, unimpressed.

‘Oh come on, Sirius, it’ll be great!’ James urged him. ‘Dad’ll be dead chuffed—you two can talk Muggle music whenever you want.’

Sirius smiled reluctantly. Theodore Potter, though woefully ignorant in other areas of Muggle culture, cherished a hearty enthusiasm for their music. Sirius, who had started listening at an early age to scandalise his parents, was generally Mr Potter’s only ally on the subject. However, apprehension still coloured the glance Sirius directed at Mrs Potter.

‘You’re sure he won’t mind?’

‘He’d love to have you here,’ she assured him firmly.

‘They basically like you better anyway,’ James sighed, in a long-suffering voice.

Finally breaking down at that, Sirius grinned genuinely for the first time since he had arrived. ‘Well who wouldn’t, mate? Your mum deserves to have at least one charming and talented male around the house. Saving Mr Potter’s presence of course.’

James’s mother chuckled appreciatively. ‘Good. Then it’s settled. You can stay with James until I fix up the spare bedroom. I’ll go hunt up some more blankets.’ She gave him a final pat on the arm before bustling out of the kitchen.

‘Thanks, Mum,’ James called cheerfully, at the same time that Sirius said, ‘Mrs Potter?’

She turned in the doorway. ‘Yes, dear?’

Sirius’s fumbled a moment for words. ‘Erm…thanks. For everything, I mean. Letting me stay, and all.’

Mrs Potter’s eyes filled with sympathy, but she gave a warm smile. ‘We’re so happy to have you.’

The sincerity in her voice drew an answering smile from Sirius, and James clapped his friend on the shoulder.

‘Excellent!’ he enthused, ‘Let’s bring your things up, then.’

Remus Lupin held very still, concentrating on not moving any part of his body. Slowly, he began to take stock of his condition. His head was pounding, though he thought he couldn’t have hit it during his transformation—it didn’t hurt enough. The rest of him was not so lucky. He could feel what had to be some very nasty scratches on his arms and legs; his right sleeve was a bit wet with something sticky, probably blood. His left hip was sore, as though he might have crashed into something, and he thought there might be additional scratches on the back of his neck, though how they got there was a mystery.

Groaning, he cracked his eyes open, focusing on a sliver of sunlight on the floor. Several feathers littered his line of vision, and Remus reflected that they most likely represented the remains of his pillow. He had tried many times over the years to convince his mother not to bother; it wasn’t as if he ever got any sleep on the nights he transformed. But although Anna Lupin had at last been forced to stop buying new mattresses and sleeping bags, she still insisted on laying out some semblance of bedding when she locked her son in the basement once a month. The extra expense pained Remus, but he had finally realised that the futile gesture was his mother’s way of coping with his lycanthropy. Being a Muggle, Anna Lupin had always struggled with the helplessness she felt in regards to her son’s affliction. He comforted himself with the knowledge that for several years now his parents only had to go through the experience at holidays.

Slowly, he worked his way into a sitting position, surveying the damage. The tiny window had been boarded up, and only admitted thin shafts of light, but Remus’s eyes were well enough accustomed to the dark that he could get a fair sense of his surroundings. The Lupins had made their basement as werewolf-friendly as possible, emptying it of anything with which Remus might hurt himself, and even tacking sheets of foam around the small space, for the times when he unwittingly threw himself against the walls. More wasted effort, Remus thought, noting the shredded yellow foam that was strewn among the feathers.

For several minutes he simply sat on the floor of his dim basement, wondering if he had the strength to make it up the stairs in order to knock on the door. Finally accepting that he did not, he crawled to the foot of the stairway and laid his hand on the newel post. At once the worn wood began to glow until the outline of a face pushed oaken features into life. Clearing his throat, Remus tried to inject a note of cheer into his hoarse voice.

‘Hey, Mum. I’m up.’

‘’Bout time, dozy-head,’ the newel post observed tartly, before vanishing with a ripple. Remus sighed. It had taken a series of highly complicated charms for he and his father to manage this communication system, and they seemed to have imbued the enchanted post with a perpetually snarky attitude. It had been Remus who had come up with the idea, after seeing his friends James and Sirius use their two-way mirrors, but the difficulty had been in enchanting something that was unlikely to be broken by a raging werewolf. The magically reinforced newel post had finally proved to be the most useful, as it was sturdy and had a twin upstairs. Remus was especially proud of his idea to make it respond to his human touch, although the required research to accomplish such a feat had cost him many hours in the Hogwarts library. Of course, he spent much of his time there anyway, and the result gave everyone some additional peace of mind. It also came in very handy in times such as these, when a transformation had been extra draining.

Within moments, the newel post morphed into life again, looking bored. ‘She says, she’ll “be right down, dear,�’ it informed him grudgingly. Sure enough, it had barely melted away into inanimate wood before Remus heard the series of clicks that meant the door was being unlocked. His mother must have slept in the sitting room again, to be responding so quickly.

Light fell abruptly into the darkened basement as Anna Lupin appeared at the top of the stairs. A sweet-featured woman who shared Remus’s light brown hair and eyes, her face was prematurely lined with worry, worry that bled nakedly into her voice as she hurried down the steps.

‘Remus? Was it a bad one, darling?’

She carried a self-assembled first-aid kit with her, as always, though it was her husband, John, who would magically heal most of Remus’s wounds.

Remus smiled up at her as he manoevered himself to lean against the nearest wall. ‘Not that bad, Mum,’ he reassured her, ‘I’m just a little extra tired, is all.’

‘Mmm,’ said his mum, disbelieving. Kneeling across from him, she mutely handed him a corked vial of dark blue liquid and began checking him for injuries. Remus drank the pain-killing potion gratefully.

‘I hope I’ve stored it right, that one’s always tricky and your father has never been especially good at potions,’ Mrs. Lupin prattled anxiously. ‘I wish he hadn’t had to go to those meetings yesterday, but there’s been some disturbing legislation floating around, and he thought he ought to stay the night in London—catch the aftermath this morning. Anyway, he ought to be back soon—oh,’ she broke off in a sigh. She had pulled back his sleeve to reveal the angry gash beneath. Remus felt a pang of guilt as her face took on the closed expression he knew so well.

‘It’s not that deep,’ he said quickly. ‘Really, I think it’s more blood than anything.’

‘That will leave another scar,’ was his mother’s only comment, as she began to clean her son’s wound.


* * *

Remus was picking at his breakfast in the Lupins’ kitchen when his mother suddenly uttered a sharp exclamation.

‘Oh! Remus, I’m so sorry, I forgot! Fabius arrived early this morning—that’s James’s owl, isn’t it? You have a letter.’

‘Great,’ Remus smiled. Even though they had been on summer holidays for barely three weeks, he already missed his friends terribly. Sirius had sent him a quick note early on to warn Remus that he suspected Kreacher of screening his correspondence, and Peter had twice sent him very long (and rather boring) letters, but he had yet to hear from James. Taking the letter from his mother, he tore open the envelope and skimmed the first lines eagerly. But he was soon frowning, as all his excitement evaporated.

‘Remus? Is everything all right?’ His mother had been watching his reaction carefully.

‘It’s Sirius,’ he muttered, absently, still focusing on the letter, ‘Apparently he showed up at James’s place late last night…’

‘He’s had another fight with his family?’ Anna Lupin followed the lives of Remus’s friends with great interest, not a little because she was so relieved her son had been able to find some.

‘Yeah…’ Remus quickly finished and set the letter on the table. His stomach was starting to clench in knots of worry. ‘He ran away; he’s going to live with James until he can get his own place.’ Remus rubbed his face as his mother let out a soft ‘Ohhh’ of sympathy.

‘That poor boy,’ she murmured. ‘Well, Lord knows he’ll be better off with the Potters, but that has to be hard. I wonder what finally made him leave? James didn’t say?’

Remus shook his head. ‘I’ll probably find out later, Sirius might not have told him yet. I wonder if I should write to Peter?’

‘Oh, I’m sure James will, if he wrote to you. I’ll check in with Margaret later, see what she knows about it.’

Remus was about to point out that if James didn’t know what had made Sirius leave, it was unlikely that his mother would, but at that moment the squeak of the front door and the sound of heavy footsteps heralded the return of his father.

John Lupin was a tall, lean man of rather ordinary appearance. Though his hair was several shades darker than his wife’s or son’s, and his eyes were blue behind their wire-rimmed spectacles, people often thought Remus looked like his father. His mother said they shared the same kind smile.

But just now Mr. Lupin’s eyes were sober and weary, and he set down his briefcase with an expressive thunk.

‘Morning, Lupins,’ he smiled, his face noticeably strained.

‘Oh, thank goodness, John, you’re back. Remus has rather nasty cut on his arm, and I thought we ought to wait until you got home—’

‘Hey, Dad,’ Remus spoke over his mother. ‘How was the conference?’

Mr. Lupin set his briefcase down and rubbed his eyes as he drew up a chair. ‘First things first,’ he said firmly, motioning Remus to show him his arm. ‘Bad night, son?’

‘Not too bad,’ Remus lied, rolling back his sleeve.

Mr. Lupin’s mouth tightened at the sight, but he drew out his wand and performed the healing charm without a word. ‘Better?’ he asked softly.

‘Much, thanks,’ Remus confirmed. ‘You should have been a Healer, Dad.’

His dad smiled humourlessly. ‘Well, at least I would make a better Healer than a legislator.’

Since Mr. Lupin actually worked as part of the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee, in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, this was a fairly moot point, but neither Remus nor his mother pointed that out. John Lupin’s dedication to attending every community-open meeting to discuss potential Wizarding legislation was largely due to his anxiety over the lack of rights he saw in his son’s future.

‘What is it dear?’ Anna Lupin’s question begged forthrightness.

‘It’s this bloody regulation they want passed!’ Mr. Lupin spat, in an uncharacteristic show of temper. He ran a distracted hand through his grey-streaked hair. ‘I don’t know who dreamed it up—Abraxas Malfoy, I heard. But Orion Black came in and spoke for it—he’ll be pouring money into it as well. And I know at least two committee members are well in his pocket, so at the very least they’ll be debating the blasted thing for the next six months…’

Mr. Lupin trailed off, rubbing the heels of his hands against his forehead.

‘What regulation are they trying to pass, John?’

‘Orion Black was there, Dad?’

Mr. Lupin glanced up at Remus’s tone, but chose to answer his wife’s question first. ‘It’s…nothing,’ he said heavily. ‘More restrictions—they want to meddle with the Werewolf Register, and they’re cheating by trying to slip it in under the Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part Humans…I think that’s how they got so many supporters there, by mislabelling it. It will never go through, of course.’ He mustered a smile and laid a hand on Remus’s arm. ‘Nothing to worry about; it was just a stressful meeting. Cuthbert Mockridge was there, from the Goblin Liaison Office; he has contacts in the Beast and Being Divisions he can put on the case. And of course the Werewolf Support Services are raising hell, although they don’t have as much clout as some of the other units. But I’m not worried. This one’ll blow over.’

Remus smiled briefly, to show he wasn’t worried either, but: ‘Mr. Black spoke for it?’

‘Oh!’ breathed his mum, following his train of thought.

Mr. Lupin sighed. ‘Yes. I’m sorry, Remus, I know you’re friends with his son, but that family has a long history of pureblood supremacy and Orion Black is no better than any of them. Saving Sirius, of course,’ he added hastily. John Lupin had always been a bit more wary of accepting a Black as his son’s friend, though Remus and his mum had eventually talked him around.

‘Sirius left home last night,’ Remus said neutrally.

There was a tense moment as Remus saw his parents exchange a look, and he braced himself.

‘That may not have been it, Remus,’ his dad reasoned.

‘It’s not your fault, sweetheart,’ whispered his mum.

‘I know,’ Remus said. ‘I know.’

But he didn’t finish the rest of his breakfast, and when he returned to his room to send a letter in reply to James, he sat for a very long time staring at the blank sheet of parchment. Eventually he laid down his quill and crawled into bed instead.

The scarlet steam engine gleamed in the bright September sun, though anyone looking out over platform nine-and-three-quarters would be hard-pressed to see it through the seething mass of students and their families.

But one boy was scanning the crowd itself. Hurrying along the platform, lugging his trunk behind him, Severus Snape shook his long, dark hair from his eyes as he peered through the jostling bodies around him. His narrow, sallow face was taut with concentration; he paused only to spit a dire warning at an unfortunate First-Year girl who bumped into him.

His black eyes suddenly lit with eagerness as they found their target. His steps quickened and he raised a thin arm in greeting.

‘Lily!’

A girl with dark red hair turned at his voice, green eyes searching the throng until they locked with his. Lily Evans’s face broke into a smile at his approach and Severus felt his heart pound in answer. It was only when he stopped, breathless, in front of her, that he sensed the reserve there.

‘Hi, Sev.’

‘You didn’t come to Diagon Alley,’ he accused without preamble. ‘It’s the first year we haven’t gone together.’

In fact, he hadn’t seen her for quite a while. His eyes drank in her face hungrily, lingering on each familiar feature as though they had gone years apart. He noted that she had cut her hair since June.

Lily frowned. ‘I thought you were going with Avery and Mulciber and that crowd.’

‘Well…yes,’ he admitted. ‘But you could have come!’

Lily snorted.

‘I wouldn’t have let them say anything to you—’

‘That’s not the point, Sev. Why are you friends with people who would want to “say anything� to a Muggleborn?’

Severus had no answer for that. He had always known Lily did not approve of his Slytherin crowd.

‘Look, Severus, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. Those boys you hang out with…they’re—bigoted and—and cruel.’ She took a deep breath, ‘I heard what you all did to little Andy Dobbs last spring—’

‘That prat,’ Severus interjected contemptuously. ‘He deserved it, what are you bothered about him for?’

‘He didn’t deserve it—’

‘He said Rabastan’s father was a worthless jailbird!’

‘Well, that’s true! Maybe Andy shouldn’t have said it like that, but that’s no excuse! Mr Lestrange was imprisoned for torturing Muggles. It’s just that kind of attitude, as though a crime doesn’t matter if it was committed against Muggles or Muggleborns. Not one of your so-called friends would care if it had been me Mr Lestrange had been torturing.’

Severus opened his mouth to protest, but no sound came out. Perhaps that was just as well, for Lily didn’t look as though she was in the mood to be argued with. He had the uncomfortable suspicion that she had been wanting to say these things for a while.

‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter whether he deserved it or not—those curses you’re all throwing around, that’s Dark Magic, Sev.’

Severus made an impatient noise. Lily had never understood when it came to the Dark Arts.

‘I just—I don’t like the way you act, sometimes. Around them, I mean. I’m not sure I’m comfortable with—who you’re becoming.’

Her voice had turned gentle, even sympathetic, but Severus recoiled as though she had struck him.

‘Fine,’ he retorted, ‘maybe you’d prefer to hang out with Potter and his gang, if you can’t stand being around me.’

Lily looked at him incredulously. ‘Sev, what on earth has Potter got to do with—’

‘Evans!’

Severus felt the force of that disgustingly confident voice as though it was a physical blow to his stomach. He arranged his features into the most contemptuously indifferent expression he could manage, and James Potter came jogging out of the crowd.

‘Evans,’ Potter panted again, grinning as he reached them. ‘Have a good summer?’ He ran a hand through his messy black hair, and Severus felt a flash of pure loathing. Behind Potter, Sirius Black sauntered up at a more languorous pace, hands deep in the pockets of a denim jacket. For all his pureblood status, he managed to look as coolly handsome dressed like a Muggle as he did in wizard robes. Fully aware that he could never cut such a dashing figure, Severus’s mouth twisted in bitter scorn.

‘Yes, thank you,’ Lily answered. The chill in her voice made his heart sing.

Potter flicked a glance at Severus, who twitched a hand towards his wand, but James said nothing except, ‘Great. Look, erm…I heard you got made a Prefect…’

Lily nodded, and James grinned eagerly. ‘Great! Congratulations! So, anyway, I just came over because—well, Remus is a Prefect too, and he said they switched the compartment you were all meeting in, so I just thought I’d—I mean, I wanted to make sure you knew…’

Severus saw Black rolling his eyes, and for once he was in agreement.

‘Yes. Erm, thanks. I did know,’ said Lily. ‘I actually told Remus...’

Severus felt an unpleasant spike of jealousy. He sneered at Potter, ‘But you can tell Lupin that if he ever gets his nose out of his books long enough to see daylight, he’ll realise there’s more to being a Prefect than attending meetings one moment and then running around with his friends the next.’

Potter glared and Lily frowned, but Black beat them both.

‘No one asked you, Snivellus,’ he said coolly, ‘and were I you I wouldn’t be talking about anyone’s noses, book-bound or otherwise.’

His grey eyes lingered on Severus’s own prominent feature, and Severus was appalled to find himself blushing. Swiftly controlling his features, he managed a patronising smile.

‘How’s your family, Black?’ he inquired silkily. ‘I heard your father takes on extra work over the summer holidays simply to stay out of the house.’

Potter’s hand flew to his wand, and Lily coughed, embarrassed, but Severus wasn’t finished.

‘That’s no help for your mother, though, is it? Regulus said she actually gets physically ill when you’re at home.’

‘Shut it, Snape!’ Potter barked roughly. ‘That’s completely uncalled for.’

Black, who had not so much as twitched at Severus’s dig, closed his eyes briefly at his friend’s gallant wording. But Severus’s triumph was marred by the unmistakable anger in Lily’s flashing eyes. With a sharp pang, he realised she was in complete agreement with James. Black, however, was unfazed.

‘Relax, James,’ he said in a bored tone. ‘He has to get his summer angst out somehow,’

Severus glared, hating him. Black sardonically held his eyes for the space of a moment, long enough to let Severus know just how little he cared for Severus’s jibes. Then, raising an aristocratic brow, Black turned to Potter and said lightly, ‘Well if you both are quite done making fools of yourselves, I suggest we all board the train some time before midnight, and leave Miss Evans in peace.’ He gave a mockingly chivalrous bow in Lily’s direction, that was nevertheless suave enough to make Severus and even Potter cast an envious glance in his direction.

‘Thank you,’ Lily smiled wryly. ‘I’d really better go if I want to make the Prefect’s meeting on time.’ She flicked a quick, appraising look at Potter, gave Severus a curt nod, and set off for the head of the train.

Severus watched her go, feeling emptier with every step she took. By the time he had turned back, Potter and Black were gone, moseying back through the crowds and returning laughing sallies to various admirers. Bitterness rose in Severus’s throat like bile. They hadn’t even considered him an adversary to be reckoned with. Hoisting his trunk behind him, Severus set off too, prowling through the happy throngs. He was not used to being bested verbally, and the knowledge that he had by no means had the last word in their encounter ate at him. If he hadn’t been distracted by Lily’s presence he would have told Sirius Black what was what. Lily…Severus swallowed hard, remembering the outrage in her beautiful green eyes when he had taunted Black about his family. This was not the time to start saying the wrong things around her.


* * *

Severus sat alone in his train compartment, leaning his head against the window. He was supposed to be patrolling right now, but he hadn’t the heart. Lily had remained cool toward him during the Prefect meeting, though he noted that she greeted Remus Lupin with a little extra warmth. Misery curled like a wet cat in his stomach. He knew what that look that Lily had given Potter had been. Admiration. Much as she hated the arrogant git, she had approved of the way he had stood up for that worthless blood-traitor, Black. Couldn’t she see the only reason Potter hadn’t cursed him, Severus, into oblivion, was that he was trying to impress her? Severus bit his lip and mentally ran through all the curses he would like to use on James Potter and his gang if he got the chance. Potter wouldn’t look so confident with his face melted into putty. Black wouldn’t sound so condescending if he were choking on his own tongue. And Lupin and Pettigrew! Strutting around with Potter and Black, thinking they were cool just by association. Severus snorted to himself. Pettigrew had the talent of a six-year-old and Lupin—there was something strange about Lupin. Severus had never understood him. He was nothing like the rest of them, quiet and thoughtful, and yet Potter and Black defended him like he was their little invalid sister. Lily liked him too; she had never let Severus say anything against him…

Severus was so busy stewing that he barely noticed when his compartment door slid open to admit a group of Slytherin Fourth Years deep in conversation. He looked up long enough to spare the younger students a sneering glance and promptly reached into his book bag to extract his Potions book. He didn’t feel like talking.

The Fourth Years ignored him, huddling together at the other end of the compartment. Whatever they were discussing was apparently vastly intriguing.

‘No way!’ Severus recognised the superior tones of Evan Rosier. ‘Blasted him clean off? So that’s that, then, isn’t it? Totally disowned. What an idiot. What made him do it?’

‘Dunno. He just…left.’

Something in that quiet voice made Severus look up, curiosity peaked. Over the top of his Potions book, he saw Regulus Black sitting in the midst of Abenur Wilkes, Evan Rosier, and two other Fourth Years he knew by sight but had never spoken to. Severus had never been especially close to Regulus. At first he had shunned him because of his brother, but he soon learned Regulus was nothing like Sirius. The younger Black had proper Wizarding pride, and Severus approved of his quiet manner and studious habits. But for all that, he was a year behind Severus, and the latter could not help but feel a flash of scorn any time Regulus quoted with obvious affection something his sainted father had said, or offered to share some meticulously put together parcel of sweets his mother had sent. Just now though, the ‘good Black’ was looking rather pale and strained, his narrow face showing a marked lack of enthusiasm for the topic of conversation.

‘Wow…’ murmured one of the unknown boys. He had a thin mouth and wide, rabbit-eyes that made him look perpetually startled. Severus had seen him hanging out with Regulus before. ‘Bad fight, was it?’

‘Very,’ Regulus answered shortly.

‘Well, go on, what was the fight about?’ Abenur prodded eagerly. Regulus shrugged.

‘He took issue with this legislation Dad’s been pushing. About werewolf registration.’

‘Oh yeah, that was brilliant!’ Rabbit-Eyes fawned. ‘My father was talking about it the other night.’

‘Yeah, well, Sirius has always been a prat about that half-breed protection stuff.’

There was a short, awkward silence following the admission of this shameful fact. Severus felt a thrill of interest, his mind whirring. Unless he was very much mistaken, it sounded as though Sirius Black had run away…more than that, been disowned! And after a ‘very bad’ fight. He had heard rumours of Walburga Black’s temper through his pureblood friends, and could imagine the results of such an argument. He could have kissed Regulus. Staring at his Potions book without seeing it, he strained his ears, desperate for more. If only he’d known this back on the platform!

‘Sorry, mate,’ the other nameless Slytherin was muttering sympathetically. ‘But every family has them. I had an uncle married a Mudblood once—he got disinherited too. It’ll be better with him out of the house.’

‘Yeah…’ Regulus’s voice sounded rather distant.

‘So where’d he go?’ Abenur prompted.

‘Potter’s,’ Regulus spat. Severus relished the sudden contempt in his voice.

‘Figures,’ Regulus went on. ‘He’s practically lived with those blood traitors since First Year anyway. Besides, now I can make my own plans in peace.’

From the hint of pride that coloured his voice, Severus knew that he was dying to tell his friends exactly what those mysterious plans were. The other boys went so quiet Severus had to close his eyes in concentration. ‘You’re still thinking about joining him?’ Abenur’s voice was equal parts fear and excitement.

‘Of course he is!’ Evan cut in scornfully. ‘Any pureblood with an ounce of pride is planning to join the Death Eaters.’

‘Shhhh,’ one of the others hushed him.

‘No one’s listening,’ sneered Evan. ‘Besides, we’re in good company.’

Severus stared even harder at his book, sure they were talking about him. He felt a little glow of satisfaction, knowing they thought him farther advanced than they on the road to becoming a Death Eater.

‘Some of the older students are already preparing,’ Regulus went on quietly. ‘We should start making connections now, if we want to be in the right place when our turn comes.’

‘What kind of connections?’ It was Rabbit-Eyes again. Severus thought he must be rather dense. ‘Who would teach us that sort of Dark Magic at Hogwarts?’

‘I think I know.’ There was a note of rebellion in Regulus Black’s voice that suddenly reminded Severus of his brother. But it was all Regulus when the younger boy raised his voice and said,

‘Pardon me, Snape. We had a few questions for you, if you wouldn’t mind.’

Severus smiled his silkiest smile and smoothly slipped his book back into his bag.

‘I’d be delighted.’

Firelight washed over the library in warm orange waves, casting deep, comfortable shadows into the corners. It was late, and thus the room was fairly empty of students, but here and there a table was occupied, heaped with old tomes and scattered parchment.

Hunched over a pile of Transfiguration books, Lily Evans and Alice Hooper wearily bent their brains to finishing a particularly gruesome essay assigned by McGonagall. Heaving a sigh, Lily flipped half-heartedly through an archived copy of Transfiguration Today.

‘Do you have any idea what the six sub-principles of transfiguring crustaceans to crockery are?’

Alice looked up from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Five, a somewhat glazed expression in her eyes. ‘What?’

‘Six sub-principles. Crustaceans to crockery.’

A smile twitched at the corners of Alice’s mouth. ‘Crustaceans to crockery?’ she asked, her voice thick with suppressed laughter. ‘Why on earth would anyone want to transfigure crustaceans into crockery?’

‘And why,’ added Lily, beginning to giggle, ‘would anyone invent six sub-principles for doing so?’

Alice laughed outright, earning a disapproving glare from Madam Pince, and closed her textbook with a soft thump. ‘Lil, this is hopeless,’ she groaned, a snicker still playing about her lips. She rubbed her bloodshot eyes. ‘I’m so tired I can’t think anymore. Why don’t we finish this in the morning?’

‘I’ve that Potions test to study for in the morning,’ Lily yawned, but she tossed Transfiguration Today back onto the table.

‘Dunno why you bother,’ Alice groused good-naturedly. ‘You’re brilliant in Potions; you could hand old Slughorn a cauldron of pumpkin juice and he’d think you’d invented some marvellous new serum.’

But Lily wasn’t listening. She had just seen four very familiar students enter the library. ‘Oh no,’ she said softly. ‘What are they doing here?’

Alice looked up, registering the presence of their fellow Gryffindors and affectionately-dubbed Marauders: James, Sirius, Remus and Peter. ‘Good,’ she commented. ‘Maybe we’ll get some entertainment after all.’

Lily rolled her eyes, frowning slightly as the four friends chose a spot two tables away. Madam Pince had already swooped by them, glowering in warning of the dire consequences that would befall them should they speak above a whisper.

‘I hope not,’ she grimaced in answer to Alice. ‘I don’t feel up to exercising my powers as a Prefect tonight.'

‘Relax,’ her friend advised, ‘Remus Lupin’s with them, maybe he’ll keep them in check. Meanwhile, at least we can enjoy the eye candy.’ She was watching the way Sirius lounged in his seat, firelight glancing off his glossy black hair.

‘Alice,’ Lily whispered in mock scandalised tones. ‘What about Frank?’

Alice blushed a little, but tossed her head all the same. ‘If Frank Longbottom ever plucks up the courage to actually ask me on a date, I shall refrain from observing other handsome members of the male race,’ she stated primly. ‘In the meantime, I have to do something to amuse myself.’

‘He will ask you. Mary said she heard Jonathan Craig say that Frank was planning to ask you next Hogsmeade weekend.’

‘We’ll see,’ said Alice dubiously, but she looked pleased. Then her expression turned guarded. ‘What about you? Has Snape gotten around to asking you out?’

Lily rolled her eyes. ‘Of course not. It’s not like that between us.’ And it was getting less like that by the day.

‘Um-hmm.’ Alice looked extremely sceptical. ‘It might not be like that for you, Lily, but you can’t tell me Severus Snape doesn’t fancy you. He practically drools whenever you look at him.’

‘Oh, please,’ Lily rolled her eyes, but it was more to put Alice off. She had never let herself acknowledge that that uncomfortable aspect of their friendship might exist.

Alice narrowed her eyes. ‘Weren’t you going to have a talk with him?’

‘Yes,’ Lily sighed, rubbing her temples, ‘I already did. At the train station, and again, sort of, on Monday. He wasn’t happy about it.’

‘But he hasn’t changed anything.’

Lily couldn’t answer. She found herself wishing her friend would move on to a different subject.

Alice watched her carefully. ‘Lily…I know I was never exactly supportive of this friendship, but…well, he really isn’t very nice. You should hear the stories about what he gets up to with the Slytherins.’

Lily frowned. It felt too familiar to her face these days. ‘I know,’ she brooded.

‘Do you ever think…it might be time to, you know, break it off? You’re not obligated to be friends with him if he makes you uncomfortable, Lil.’

She smiled at the concern in Alice’s voice. ‘Don’t worry. If something needs to be done, I’ll do it. It’s just…hard to see an old friend changing, is all.’

Silence fell between them. Lily watched idly as Sirius Black levitated several quills and began dropping them on Peter’s head. Remus threw Sirius a long-suffering look, and James shoved him lightly. Subsiding, Sirius said something teasing to James that made the other bristle indignantly.

‘Snape’s not the only one changing, you know.’

‘Hmm?’ Lily asked, watching James splutter as Sirius snatched Remus’s Prefect badge and pinned it on James’s chest.

‘I said, Snape’s not the only one who’s changing. I think there might be a glimmer on the horizon.’ Alice leaned in, her round face knowing. ‘Why don’t you give him a chance?’

‘What?’ Lily turned to her friend, fully attentive now.

‘James Potter. Why don’t you give him a chance?’

‘Potter?’ Lily could hardly believe her ears. Alice certainly knew how she felt about James Potter.

‘Oh, go on,’ Alice urged, in an uncharacteristic show of impatience. ‘He’s fancied you since First Year; just give it a shot.’

‘He’s an arrogant bully,’ Lily returned coolly.

‘He’s not that bad. Well, OK, he’s pretty bad, and I know they all fight with Snape, but that’s mutual,’ she pointed out fairly. ‘Anyway, there’s another side to Potter. When he’s not being a git, he can be nice. I’ve see him and Black and Pettigrew in here a lot lately—maybe they’ve decided to hit the books.’ She grinned. ‘I haven’t heard many horror stories this term.’

‘It’s only November. Give them time.’

‘Maybe what he needs is a good woman.’ Alice smiled, her eyes sparkling with the potential for romance. ‘Come on, Lil, think of all the gossip you could bring back to me! One date never killed any—oh, speak of the devil,’ she broke off abruptly as James Potter rose from his seat. Black and Lupin watched him, barely hiding smirks. Pettigrew was giggling.

Bracing herself, Lily narrowed her eyes as James made his way towards her.

‘You’d better say yes,’ Alice muttered beside her.

Lily had no time to respond, because James Potter was upon them, grinning his Quidditch Captain grin. A sense of foreboding settled in her stomach.

‘Hey, Evans. Late night studying?’

‘Yes,’ Lily answered warily. ‘You too?’ If he said yes, she would know he was lying.

‘Nah, we’re just doing a little extra-curricular research. And Peter has some Astronomy work to do.’

‘Extra-curricular research?’ she repeated dubiously.

‘It’s nothing bad,’ Potter amended hurriedly. ‘Just a project of Remus’s.’

‘Mm-hmm,’ she murmured, semi-convinced. She generally trusted Remus Lupin to do the right thing. But she knew that was not what James had come to tell her. ‘So, what do you want?’

Next to her, Alice sighed in what Lily knew was disapproval. She hadn’t meant to sound so abrupt, but James Potter always made her a bit tense.

‘Well…’ he faltered, his grin slipping a little. ‘I—I came over to say—that is, I just wondered if you would—er, I know you don’t exactly—’

‘Spit it out, lover-boy,’ Black called from his seat. James shot him a glare (as did Madam Pince), but seemed to regain his cool.

‘What I really want is a date with the prettiest girl in Hogwarts.’ He winked, finessing the recovery.

Lily glanced past him to where Lupin was pretending not to listen. Black hurriedly ducked his head over a book to follow suit, but Peter gaped openly. She suppressed a sigh, wishing he would stop asking her out when so many people were watching. Acutely aware of Alice’s eyes on her profile, she tried to think of a tactful rejection.

Potter renewed his grin, tilting his head in a winning way. The seconds stretched, and she was drawing a blank. She stared hopelessly back at him.

‘Why?’ she asked.

A flicker of a frown crossed his face. ‘Why what?’

‘Why do you want to go out with me?’ Interestingly, she found she was genuinely curious.

Potter blinked in surprise. ‘Why? Well, I mean, look at you! You’re gorgeous!’

Lily narrowed her eyes and he backtracked swiftly.

‘I mean, that’s not all! You’re, you know, smart and—and good at Potions and stuff—’

Behind him, Lupin winced discreetly and Black put his head on the table in despair.

Taking pity on him, Lily smiled wryly. ‘Thanks. But I’m sorry, I won’t go out with you.’ She began organising her notes.

‘Oh.’ He seemed to deflate. ‘Why not?’

Not wanting to be harsher than she had to, she shrugged evasively. ‘I just don’t think we’re right for each other.’

‘Well, what would I have to do to be right for you?’ he demanded.

Was he ever going to get it? She looked him directly in the eyes. Straightforward, hazel eyes, challenging her.

‘Stop cursing everyone within reach, for a start.’

‘I don’t curse everyone, ’ he objected. ‘Just a select few, who deserve it.’ He grinned again, clearly trying to charm her. She did not appreciate the effort.

‘Stop doing stupid things just to get attention.’

‘What can I say, Evans? How else will I get you to look at me?’ Impossibly, his grin broadened, and he made to sit down next to her. The confidence in his face was downright insulting. Irritation flared.

‘Then just stop being James Potter, because I would never in a million years go out with him,‘ she retorted, glaring.

James froze, and straightened slowly. Disappointment and hurt touched his eyes, surprising her unpleasantly. She was unaccustomed to him actually taking in what she said to him. Belatedly, she wished she had been kinder.

He nodded. ‘All right, then. I can take a hint. Guess I’ll turn in for the night.’ He gave a weak little smile and slowly returned to the others. At their table, Black patted him sympathetically on the back.

‘It’s amazing you don’t get more dates with that warm, fuzzy attitude of yours,’ Alice reproved, once she was sure he was out of earshot.

‘Let’s just drop it, all right?’ Lily begged wearily. She suddenly felt drained, and returned to her Transfiguration homework reluctantly.

For a while the library was quiet but for the scratching of quills and the odd whisper. After several attempts to get through a mind-numbing article on the altered properties of transfigured mammals, Alice gave up, retiring with a yawn. Promising she would follow as soon as she finished her conclusion, Lily stared with aching eyes at the blank parchment before her. She had nothing more to say on the subjects of crustaceans or crockery, and in spite of herself, her attention began to stray. Two tables away, James and Remus rose and wandered off to peruse the shelves; she watched them lazily, noting with mild interest they were headed towards the Potions section. Remus seemed rather reluctant.

‘If Madam Pomfrey doesn’t have anything…’ she heard him murmur as they passed.

‘Well, you never know,’ James muttered back. ‘Be nice if we could get that scar-healing stuff not to make you nauseated, wouldn’t it?’

‘Shhhh,’ Remus warned, and James fell silent as they disappeared down a corridor of towering bookshelves.

Why was Remus taking a potion to heal scars? she wondered vaguely.

Back at their table, Sirius was attempting to help Peter with his star chart for Astronomy.

‘No, Wormtail, you’ve got this all wrong. Look, Bellatrix is part of Orion, it’s nowhere near Cassiopeia.’

‘Easy for you, your whole family is named after stars!’

‘Fine, have it your way. It won’t be me failing the test tomorrow.’

‘No, no, wait. I’m sorry. So Cygnus is part of…of…Polaris?’

‘Polaris is it’s own star, I keep telling you. And Cygnus is a constellation; they’ve got nothing to do with each other.’ Black groaned, rubbing his face. ‘Look, just—let me fill out a new sheet for you, this one’s all mixed up.’

‘Oh, thanks,’ Pettigrew breathed gratefully, handing over his chart.

‘No problem,’ said Black dryly. ‘Why don’t you go find that book on moons while I’m at it. You can start on that extra credit thing.’

‘So you don’t think I’ll fail the class?’ Pettigrew asked hopefully.

‘Well, we’re working on it.’

Pettigrew scurried off. Black watched him go, catching Lily’s eye as Peter passed her. He raised a brow and waved. Chagrined, Lily nodded and quickly bent back over her homework.

A few moments passed, until the sound of footsteps stopping in front of her table made her look up.

‘Hey,’ said Sirius Black, dropping lightly into the chair across from her.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked guardedly.

‘Nothing illegal,’ he countered, grinning in the careless way that had charmed so many of her female classmates.

‘Just come to socialise?’ she suggested, not believing it for a minute.

‘Merlin, no. I come to study, look.’ He set Pettigrew’s newly blank chart on the table before him with a flourish and began inking in the blanks, his quill flying quickly over the parchment.

Lily narrowed her eyes, but Black seemed in no rush to divulge his purpose. Silence stretched again.

‘You know,’ he said pleasantly, eyes still on his paper, ‘he’s been positively mooning over you all summer. No pun intended,’ he added, smiling at the star chart.

‘This is about James,’ Lily groaned in sudden understanding. ‘He asked you to talk to me.’

‘My dear Miss Evans. This has nothing to do with my romantically-challenged comrade. I come completely of my own volition, to ask a personal favour purely for my own benefit.’

He looked up, grey eyes glinting with amusement, but in an easy, personable way. No wonder he had girls running after him left and right. Refusing to be taken in, Lily folded her arms over her chest, sitting back in her chair. ‘Oh? And what favour might that be?’

Black put on a face of infinite suffering. ‘Take pity on me,’ he pleaded. ‘I have to listen to him moan and mope all day, every day. How am I supposed to be a good student with that kind of perpetual distraction?’

Lily snorted, but Black pretended not to notice, now leaning in with a confiding air. ‘I know it’s a great sacrifice, but just give him a chance, just an hour or two.’ He studied her face. ‘He really does like you, you know.’

For some reason the sudden candour in his voice made Lily’s cheeks burn. She opened her mouth without knowing what she was going to say, but he was already brushing by the moment.

‘Come on, Evans. For my sake. It really is the least you can do, when I’ve had to put up with him these five long years. A sort of civic duty, if you will. One should always fulfil one’s duty to society,’ he finished, in admirable mimicry of McGonagall’s stern tones.

‘Like one should always fulfil duties to one’s family?’ she quipped, raising her eyebrows.

The stark surprise in Black’s eyes caught her unawares. She had meant to share a distracting joke; Sirius made no secret of the fact that he didn’t keep his family’s traditions, and his clownish impressions of his parents’ speeches on ‘familial duty’ had several times been the subject of much hilarity in the Gryffindor Common Room.

‘Oh,’ he said, apparently at a loss. ‘Wow…well, that’s me told, isn’t it?’ He gave a little bark of a laugh and Lily frowned, confused. But Black was rising, his mocking grin back in place. ‘Well played, m’lady,’ he smiled, gathering his star chart and quill. ‘Note to self: tease not the girl who studies.’

Leaving her completely nonplussed, he strolled back to his table, where Peter and Remus had returned. She couldn’t hear what he said to them, but it must have been funny, because both boys laughed appreciatively and the three of them slung their book bags over their shoulders and left the library with enough show of frivolity to earn a murderous stare from Madam Pince.

‘Bit harsh, that, wasn’t it?’ said a quiet voice.

Lily whipped around to see James Potter leaning against a nearby shelf, the most curious expression on his face.

‘Eavesdropping, Potter?’ she demanded acidly. ‘Have you been lurking there the whole time?’

‘No,’ he said neutrally. ‘I was just coming back when I caught that last bit. He was only joking with you, you know. No need to get personal.’

‘But I—I didn’t mean—I mean, he’s always joking about his family, I wasn’t trying to…’ She trailed off, utterly frustrated. She was tired and confused, and she didn’t want a lesson in tact from James Potter.

Potter frowned at her, looking as puzzled as she felt. Cautiously, he moved forward and sat across from her at the table, perched on the edge of the chair as though expecting her to order him off at any moment. ‘Well,’ he said slowly, ‘that’s true, he does joke about them from time to time. But I reckon he’s just a bit touchier about it at the moment. You know, after this summer.’

He was scrutinising her in a way she was completely unused to, as though she was behaving in a manner he didn’t understand at all.

‘This summer?’ she asked bewildered. ‘Why, what happened this summer?’

He stared at her for a moment, and then his face relaxed, understanding flooding his eyes. ‘Oh! You don’t know! I thought that story had made its rounds by now.’ He sat back with a laugh. ‘Geez, Lily, I was wondering why you were being so mean!’

He didn’t seem to realise he had called her by her first name. The easy way he said it made her strangely uncomfortable, but she was too perplexed to examine the feeling. ‘What are you talking about?’ she hissed, not appreciating being left out of the loop.

Potter sobered at once. ‘Oh, well, he ran away this summer. And his mum disowned him. It’s kind of common knowledge now, or I wouldn’t say anything.’

‘She disowned him?’ she Lily repeated in horror. ‘Why?’

‘For not being enough like the rest of his family, I reckon. But you can understand why it’s sort of a …tense subject, especially since his brother Regulus goes to school here and all.’

Lily clapped her hands to her face, suddenly realising how she must have sounded. ‘Oh no!’ she moaned between her fingers. ‘I was only trying to joke around, I didn’t mean—he’s going to think I’m a horrible person!’

‘Well, I’m sure it surprised him, coming from you, but I doubt he’ll think you’re a horrible person.’ Potter chuckled ruefully. ‘He probably just thinks you really hate the idea of going out with me.’

He was trying to cheer her up. She lowered her hands slowly. ‘You’ll explain, won’t you?’

He nodded. ‘Yeah, sure. Don’t worry about it.’

She smiled in gratitude. ‘Thanks.’

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Lily stared wearily at her unfinished homework, thinking how strange it was to be sharing a comfortable silence with James Potter.

‘Well,’ she said finally. ‘I suppose I’d better get to bed. I don’t seem to be able to do much of anything right tonight.’

Potter laughed and rose with her. ‘Don’t worry,’ he repeated. ‘Your secret’s safe with me. Lily Evans, closet sadist. Who would have thought?’

‘Oh don’t!’ Lily groaned, laughing in spite of herself. ‘I feel awful. Where’s he staying now?’

‘With me. It’s been pretty cool. Mum and Dad love him, so he’s—everyone’s better off anyway.’

Lily nodded mutely. His face was different than usual, full of concern for a friend. She had never thought of James Potter as a sensitive person, but the way he had handled her faux pas had been…kind. Without thinking, she smiled up at him. Tentatively, he smiled back, and they left the library together.

Neither of them noticed the pale, dark-haired boy who was huddled in a corner table by the door. Severus Snape peered around the towering stacks of books that surrounded him, his face blank as glass.

Severus Snape stalked down the ever-darkening halls, hardly watching where he was going. When he reached the Slytherin Common Room, he was twice refused the password before he remembered the correct one.

‘Tarquin’s Teapot,’ he intoned dully, and prowled into the dank, dimly lit room. It was sparsely inhabited, and Severus made for the farthest, darkest corner, fighting the aching lump that was forming in his throat. A bold Third Year made some snide remark he didn’t quite catch, but he fired off a jinx anyway, causing the younger student to yelp in alarm as he and his friends ducked out of the way. Severus crossed the room without looking back.

Sinking into his favourite green velvet chair, Severus concentrated on pushing back the sting that threatened at his eyes. The image of lovely, perfect Lily leaving the library with that strutting idiot consumed him, and for several minutes he could do nothing but steep in the hideous injustice of it.

Lily hated James. She hated him. She had told him so on numerous occasions. Yet there she had been, walking practically arm in arm with him, looking positively chummy with the boy she’d called an arrogant toerag not so long ago.

And then a creeping doubt coiled around his heart. Perhaps it was he, Severus, whom she hated now? He had barely spoken to Lily at all this week, not since she had argued with him over his choice of friends yet again. At once bitter waves of despair washed over him. A fierce ache wrenched his chest and he resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands.

If only she didn’t have such a ridiculous aversion to the Dark Arts. If only he were cool and handsome and Captain of the Quidditch team. Then it might be him talking with Lily at a lamp-lit table, him leaving the library with Lily smiling warmly at him.

He stared broodingly at the fire across the room, an overwhelming hatred building inside him. It wasn’t fair. Stupid Potter and his stupid friends. Thinking they had the run of the school, thinking they could chat up anyone they liked. He hadn’t missed that cosy little conversation Lily had had with Black, either…how was it she was suddenly so friendly with the so-called Marauders?

Well, passivity had never been one of Severus’s faults. He wasn’t going to sit here and take it. He wasn’t going to watch Potter swarm all over Lily like he owned her. If only Potter were out of the way, he might have a chance. If he could only catch them at something that would fix them good, make them the objects of Lily’s disdain once more—or better yet, get them expelled. Merlin knew they got up to enough after hours…

The shadows lengthened along the stone walls, and the Common Room slowly emptied around him. He did not move, sitting like stone himself, gazing into space. So absorbed was he in his own thoughts that he barely noticed when Regulus Black quietly appeared at his elbow. Severus jumped slightly and glared at the younger boy.

‘What do you want?’ he inquired icily, saturating each word with the maximum possible venom.

‘Nothing,’ Regulus answered, unfazed. ‘Just thought I’d say hello.’

Severus narrowed his eyes, trying to convey hostility. He wanted nothing less than to be forced into conversation right now, especially not with the spoiled kid brother of one of the boys against whom he was currently plotting, no matter how friendly Regulus might have been to him lately. When the latter made no move to leave, Severus said pointedly, ‘Won’t your friends be missing you?’

Regulus raised one brow in a way that reminded Severus sickeningly of his older brother, but ignored the hint. ‘Had a bad day?’

Severus sneered. ‘What’s it to you?’

Regulus shrugged, drawing his knees up onto his chair and curling them beneath him like a cat. Perfect, the little brat was settling in. In truth, the younger boy looked a bit lonely. He probably wanted to have a lovely long heart-to-heart talk. Bleakly, Severus contemplated getting up and facing the crowded dormitory, but decided he didn’t have the energy.

‘There was another disappearance in the paper today. Some Mudblood in Kent. Mulciber says it’s him behind it.’

‘Brilliant guess, that,’ Severus retorted acidly. Regulus was quiet for a moment. Severus stared straight ahead. He could feel the other boy watching his profile.

‘Are you going to teach me that new spell you invented?’ Regulus asked at last. ‘Sectum-something, or whatever it is? I overheard you practicing it last night,’ he explained, having the grace to look apologetic.

Severus opened his mouth to say something cutting, but found he didn’t have the heart. ‘Fine. When I’m finished,’ he said instead, grudgingly. Regulus nodded, satisfied.

Silence ensued. Severus was just hoping that Regulus might get bored and leave him alone, when the latter said quietly, ‘What were you thinking about, before?’

‘How lovely it is to have a bit of solitude at the end of the day.’

‘You looked upset.’

‘I was not upset!‘ Severus spat. Why wouldn’t this idiot leave him alone? Ever since that first day on the train, Regulus had acted as though Severus was his own personal mentor or something. Which was fine as long as long as he, Severus, was setting the schedule—he rather enjoyed teaching the younger boy complex spells of his own invention, watching the impressed reactions of Regulus and his friends as he recounted his intricate knowledge of the Dark Arts. But that didn’t mean he wanted to share his life story with the boy. No wonder his brother had found him so annoying…

Then, somewhere in his shrewd mind, something clicked. There was a way to use this situation, after all. Severus sat up straighter, turning his full attention to Regulus’s pale face, smiling in the flattering manner he had often seen Narcissa Black use to get her way. Regulus smiled hesitantly back.

‘Reg,’ Severus purred, employing the nickname his friends used. ‘How perceptive of you to notice. In fact, I was rather put out. I had a bit of a run-in with your brother tonight.’

This was a lie that would be nearly impossible to disprove. The ongoing feud between the Marauders and Severus was not exactly a secret. Sure enough, Regulus’s face darkened in a scowl, his slight frame tensing in his chair.

‘He’s not my brother,’ he answered tightly.

‘Quite right, how foolish of me,’ Severus murmured, smoothing the boy’s ruffled feathers. ‘Unfortunately, I believe I came off slightly worse in the encounter…’

‘You wouldn’t be the first,’ Regulus muttered.

‘Indeed. He has quite a gift for argument, doesn’t he?’ There, don’t twitch the bait, he wants to talk…

Regulus glowered at the floor. ‘Look, whatever he said, don’t worry about it—he’s full of rubbish.’

‘Well, it’s clear who got the brains in the family,’ Severus agreed smoothly. ‘It’s incredible he hasn’t gotten himself expelled, with everything those four get up to.’

‘No kidding,’ the other boy grumbled. ‘Well, he was always a complete nutter, sneaking out at night at home and all…nearly drove Mum out of her head.’

‘How frustrating,’ Severus commiserated. ‘Well, at least you don’t have to try to keep him in line anymore.’

‘Yes…’ Regulus sighed. He stared dejectedly at the stone floor for a moment, before looking up, his grey eyes suddenly clouded with worry. ‘Why? He’s…not planning something stupid is he? Not that I care,’ he added hastily. ‘But if it was going to cause a lot of trouble, I mean—you’re a Prefect and all, maybe you could stop it.’

Severus noticed he had not said ‘go to Dumbledore.’ Perfect.

‘Indeed. In fact, I have reason to believe he and Potter are up to something, but I have no idea where to start…’

Regulus looked rather uncomfortable, his thin face tensing with some internal conflict. Severus waited.

The struggle was brief; Regulus’s expression smoothed with resolve, his eyes hard.

‘They go somewhere at night,’ he informed Severus. ‘I don’t know where, but I think it has something to do with Lupin.’

‘Really?’ murmured Severus, intrigued.

Regulus nodded. ‘Last spring I had to talk to—er, Sirius, because Mum told me to tell him he’d have to find a way home himself, because Dad was taking me straight from the station to get my new broom.’ Regulus sneaked a quick peek at Severus, presumably to make sure Severus understood that this brief contact had been forced upon him. Severus pulled an expression of understanding, and Regulus continued. ‘Well, anyway, some Gryffindor told me that he’d—Sirius that is—said he’d gone up to meet Lupin, who was coming back from visiting a sick aunt or whatever. So while I was waiting, I went up to visit Abenur Wilkes in the Hospital Wing—you know, after he broke his collarbone in Quidditch? And when I was in there, I saw the three of them coming out from some back room, talking about Lupin, how much better it would be once they “finished� everything.

‘Then last month I was in the Hospital Wing again after we practised that one spell—you know, the one that made my fingers shrivel up?’ He cast a sheepish glance at Severus. ‘And I saw them come out of that same room. They were talking about how much fun “last night� had been, and something about trying Hogsmeade “next month.� I think Lupin was back there for some reason, and they all looked really tired, like they’d been out all night,’ Regulus finished, looking to Severus for approval. For a long moment, Severus didn’t say anything at all. The ache that had been clutching his heart since he had left the library was lightening considerably.

‘I don’t know if that helps you at all,’ Regulus said tentatively.

Severus smiled at him truly for the first time. ‘On the contrary, it helps a great deal.’ In his mind, he was already seeing Dumbledore grimly writing out four identical letters of notification. Expulsion. What a beautiful word.

Sirius closed his eyes against the chill November breeze, letting it sweep over his cheeks, his temples, breathing out the day. In an hour or so, he would be joining his three best friends on one of their midnight excursions as Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. But for now, he wanted to be alone.

The grounds were awash in twilight, bathing his feet in velvety shadows as he wandered along the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Madam Pomfrey had already escorted Remus to the Whomping Willow for his monthly transformation. The shelter of the forest made it unlikely that other members of the staff who happened to be looking out the window would spot Sirius. He wasn’t much bothered about it.

Moodily, he kicked a stray rock along the frosted ground, watching it skid over bumps in the terrain. He didn’t really have any good reason to be out here, just a vague, uncertain restlessness that had made the stuffy confines of the Common Room unbearable. He wished night would come, so he could feel the wild release of running through the moonlit grounds, his mind wiped free by the clean exhilaration of escape.

He immediately felt guilty. After all, this was not exactly an occasion for rejoicing for Remus, though having three newly Animagus friends vastly improved the circumstances of his monthly transformations.

A cold knot of tension clenched in his chest. James had noticed Snape poking around more than usual. Asking awkward questions. Sticking his hooked nose where he had no business. Remus had confessed that he feared Snape might already have guessed at his condition. Personally, Sirius thought it more likely he was trying to get them all expelled, but the thought that Remus might be worrying over someone as worthless as Snape made his blood boil.

That was another thing. Remus had been acting a bit strangely this term. Now and then it seemed as though he was on the verge of asking Sirius a question, though he never did. At first Sirius had worried he might want to talk about Sirius running away—Remus always seemed to think talking about sensitive—awkward—issues solved everything. But to Sirius’s infinite relief the subject never came up. Maybe James had told him to shut up about it.

However, the fact that Remus wouldn’t confide what was bothering him annoyed Sirius a great deal. In all likelihood, Remus was probably fretting over something stupid he couldn’t control, like ‘inconveniencing’ his friends with his lycanthropy.

‘Bloody angsty git,’ Sirius growled aloud, not really meaning it, but feeling a bit better all the same. He had always been closer to Remus than Peter, and was more adept than James at wheedling information out of him. Sirius was much better at listening to other people’s problems than divulging his own—which was probably why he made friends so easily.

Not that he had many problems these days. All in all, he was much happier after extracting himself from the Noble and Most Ancient House of Bullocks. James’s parents were great, and the thought of never again having to be trapped in Grimmauld Place feeling like he was going to explode was wonderful beyond comprehension.

So why did he feel like he was going to explode now?

He blew out a sharp sigh of frustration, watching his breath huff out in misty plumes. This had not been a good day, he reflected suddenly. He had run into Regulus on the stairs after dinner, and while neither had said a word to the other, the encounter had been sufficiently awkward to put him in a foul mood.

A bird shrieked from somewhere in the forest. Sirius stopped, gazing out over the rapidly darkening grounds. Smoke curled in a lazy dance from Hagrid’s chimney. The windows of Hogwarts glowed like buttery jewels in the distance. The familiar sights were soothing, reminders of a home to which he had never dreaded returning. If he tilted his head, he could just make out the Gryffindor Common Room from here. James and Peter should be down soon. Maybe James had succeeded in talking to Lily again…

He never knew what made him turn—a sixth sense perhaps? Certainly Severus Snape made no noise as he materialised from the sable shadows that laced the forest. Sirius stiffened instinctively.

‘Good evening, Black,’ purred Snape. A silky menace lurked beneath his pleasant tone.

Sirius narrowed his eyes. ‘Yeah, right.’

Snape smiled, ignoring him. ‘Out rather late, aren’t we?’

No way was he going to play that game. ‘So are you,’ Sirius pointed out bluntly.

‘Of course. Had you taken a moment to use your admittedly limited brains, you might have noticed that I used the pronoun “we.�’

Not in the mood to banter with Snape, Sirius briefly considered cursing him then and there. But he didn’t want to do anything that might delay their rendezvous with Remus.

‘What do you want?’ he growled instead.

‘Oh, nothing in particular. I was just out taking in the night air, much like yourself, and I thought I might stop for a pleasant chat.’

Now he knew Snape was up to something nasty. No one in their right minds should look so pleased with the glare Sirius was giving him now. Warily, Sirius let his face fall into an expression of elegant remoteness.

‘How charming,’ he intoned. ‘Well, as much as I’d love to stay and make small talk, I really should leave you to your broodings…’

‘Not so hot to trot without your little friends around, are you?’ Snape shot at him, his tone changing abruptly.

Sirius was sorely tempted to verbally impale him for using a phrase as gormless as ‘hot to trot,’ or at least to point out that nearly all of his ‘little friends’ were taller than Snape, but he was too distracted by the fact that the moon would be rising soon. Contenting himself with his most dismissive smirk, he said, ‘If you are challenging me to a duel, I accept. If you’re not, stop wasting my time.’

Snape’s mouth hardened, a flinty, hungry look coming into his black eyes. ‘What are you doing here, Black?’ he breathed. ‘Surely you don’t expect me to believe you’re just taking a walk?’

‘I don’t care what you believe,’ Sirius snapped, his patience worn thin. He had already turned and walked several paces when Snape called,

‘Going to meet Lupin, are you?’

Sirius stopped short, his sharp intake of breath sending a gust of chilled air into his lungs. Slowly, he turned, keeping his expression even.

‘Looking to get someone else in trouble, Snape? If you want to catch someone out after hours, Remus is a poor guess. Especially seeing as he’s gone.’

But Snape drew closer, a cat on the scent. ‘You can’t fool me, Black,’ he whispered. ‘That story about his poor sick aunt is utter rubbish. I know you and Potter and your gang go sneaking around at night, and I think it has something to do with Lupin. There’s something strange about him. What is it?’

Snape was trying to trick him into betraying something with a direct approach.

‘Like I would tell you if there was,’ Sirius returned with a masterful show of indifference, given that his blood was pounding in his ears.

Snape’s penetrating stare pinned him in place; Sirius returned his gaze determinedly. After a moment Snape broke off, black eyes glittering. ‘How touching,’ he sneered. ‘The reject protecting the misfit. Very well. Have it as you like. I’ll still get all of you expelled, and that pathetic liar will be first to go.’

Sirius could feel the familiar reckless rage building inside him, even though he knew Snape was baiting him by criticising his friends. He leaned in, until his face was inches away from Snape’s big, greasy nose.

‘You can play at Dark Arts all you like, Snivellus. Remus Lupin could still destroy you in his sleep.’

Not waiting for a reply, he pushed past Snape, deliberately walking back towards Hogwarts without a glance behind him. He was just grimly congratulating himself for not losing his temper when Severus Snape’s silken tones called out behind him.

‘Speaking of the Dark Arts, I had the most fascinating conversation with young Regulus today.’

He said it lightly, caressing the tip of an iceberg. Sirius froze, his instincts warring. Half a dozen flippant and crushing retorts flashed through his mind, while the more straightforward side of him roared for the immediate jinxing of Snape into jelly. But a terrible curiosity rooted him there, and when he turned, it was a cold question that finally forced its way between his lips.

‘Did you, now?’

‘Oh yes,’ Snape smiled, his thin face a pale swathe in the dusk. ‘We’ve gotten rather close this term, you know—or of course you wouldn’t, would you?’

‘Like I care,’ Sirius scoffed automatically. ‘Good to hear you finally found a friend though. Took you what, going on five years?’

It was a weak jibe, and he knew it, but he was too focused on what Snape was going to say.

‘It seems he’s very interested in the Dark Arts himself.’

Sirius’s mouth went dry as he realised where this was going. ‘And you’re only too happy to encourage that little hobby, aren’t you?’ His voice was tight with controlled rage. Not that he cared what Regulus was doing, not really…

‘More than a hobby, I should think,’ Snape crooned. It was clear he knew exactly how much he was in power in the situation, and was milking it. ‘Of course, it will be a while before he’s skilled enough to…how shall we put it…make things official? Though I must say, he’s an eager learner. Makes you wonder…if certain people had stuck around, instead of running off with their tails between their legs, I mean,’ he gave an expressive little chuckle, ‘who knows where Regulus might be now?’

Sirius stared at him. Snape smiled suddenly, his face serene as he added the final touch. ‘Not to worry though…I see you’ve supplanted your charming little brother with Lupin…I suppose you’re content with deluding yourself into thinking you’re protecting him instead.’

Then Sirius was ripped from his stupor, white rage searing through with the force of an electric shock. In the space of a moment, he was centimetres from Snape’s face, pinning him against a broad oak with an animal strength that lifted the slighter boy off his feet. Snape’s eyes widened in astonishment at the suddenness of the assault. A deadly weight was crushing Sirius’s lungs so that he could barely summon breath.

‘You don’t know anything,’ he snarled, his voice shaking so badly he had to clench his teeth. ‘You don’t know anything. You want to know something about Remus Lupin?’ He gave Snape a little shake, words burning their way out of his mouth. ‘You go take a walk by the Whomping Willow tonight. There’s a knot on the trunk; did you know that? Just press it with a stick, see what happens. See who needs protecting then.’

Snape’s face was ashen, his fathomless black eyes staring blankly back at him. All at once, Sirius couldn’t bear to touch him. He dropped him roughly, contempt choking him as he watched Snape stumble slightly.

‘There,’ he spat, his voice cracking and coarse. ‘I’ve told you what to do. And you know what? You won’t even do it. You won’t even do it,’ he repeated, his breath finally abandoning him, so he could no longer speak above a growl. ‘You know why?’

Snape was watching him without blinking, as though hypnotised by his fury. Sirius leaned in, locking eyes, fighting the tightness in his throat with every fibre of resolve he possessed.

‘Because you’re a coward,’ Sirius whispered. ‘A bloody, gutless little sneak who doesn’t even have the spine to follow up on his own pathetic little threats.’

He was walking, then, striding back towards the castle, not thinking. The image of Snape’s white, rapt face was burned into his vision. The air gusted against his face, freezing him; he had brushed the tears away before he realised they were there.

Back through the magnificent oak doors, the Great Hall, the marble staircase. He didn’t remember giving the password. The Gryffindor Common Room flashed by in a rosy blur of images. He saw Peter’s round, anxious face. James, head jerking guiltily up from where he sat across from a cautious Lily Evans. James’s quick frown of concern.

Then he was on his bed, staring at the ceiling of the vacated dormitory, feeling empty and shaken. He waited for the blessed numbness that had so often followed fights with his parents to leaden his limbs.

‘Sirius?’

‘Mmmm?’ How calm he sounded, all traces of those violent tremors gone. He did not turn his head as James and Peter sat on the foot of his bed.

‘You all right, there, mate?’

Sirius processed the worry in James’s voice as though from a great distance. ‘I’m fine,’ he said coolly, to the ceiling.

‘Er,’ Peter said, nervously, ‘what about Remus? Shouldn’t we be heading down soon?’

‘Oh yeah,’ Sirius responded blankly. ‘Remus.’ There was absolutely no expression in his voice as he said, ‘I met Snape outside.’

‘Snape?’ James asked quickly, sounding even more worried now. ‘What happened? Did you two get in a fight? He—you don’t think he…knows?’

‘He doesn’t know anything,’ Sirius answered flatly. Then, oddly, his lips began to twitch. ‘We actually had a very pleasant little conversation.’ He thought of Snape and his brother being friends, and began to laugh then, a detached, humourless laughter that scared him a little even as it released tension.

‘Sirius, what did you do?’ James demanded, his voice much louder now.

‘Nothing,’ Sirius gasped, tears of baseless mirth stinging his eyes. ‘That’s what’s so bloody hilarious. He knows how to get in, and he won’t even d-do anything about it.’

‘He knows how to get in the Whomping Willow?’ Peter squeaked in alarm.

The laughter stopped abruptly, leaving Sirius hollow. ‘Well, he should, seeing as I told him. It’s completely brilliant,’ he informed them, wondering how his voice had become so cold.

He barely even saw James move before he found himself being pulled up, gripped violently by the shoulders. He stared into his friend’s hazel eyes in mild surprise.

‘You—told—him?’ James gritted out, his face as white as Snape’s had been.

‘Relax, James,’ Sirius ordered, shrugging him off angrily. ‘The little git is probably safe in the Slytherin Common Room right now, looking up obscure Dark curses to use on all of us. He has a special talent for that, you know…’

But James wasn’t listening. He had leapt up from the bed and was out of the door before either Sirius or Peter had time to react. They could hear cries of surprise and annoyance as he tore through the Common Room. Sirius turned to meet Peter’s watery gaze, observing without emotion that he had never seen Peter look so frightened.

‘Relax,’ he repeated, willing contempt into his empty voice. ‘Nothing’s going to happen.’

Remus lay propped up on pillows, staring at a hole in the the wall opposite him. His eyes bored with such concentration that he might have been deciphering some hidden code in the worn tapestry that hung there. However, the wall-hanging depicted a dull scene of twelfth-century Healers, and Remus’s thoughts had never been further from antiquated draperies. Some corner of his mind was vaguely aware that Peter, the only other occupant of the private room in the Hospital Wing, was watching him nervously. The thought crossed his mind that he should say something to allay Peter’s fears, but he was afraid of opening his mouth, of breaking the terrible spell of silence. Every nerve in his body was taut, waiting in a desperate agony for the door to open.

‘Do…do you think you should take more of that potion?’ Peter’s voice came out as a squeak of a whisper.

Remus glanced at the bottle of Persephone’s Practical Painkiller that Madame Pomfrey always left by his bed and shook his head mutely. It had the unfortunate side effect of making him drowsy, and he wanted his wits about him.

The uncomfortable silence stretched until Remus thought it must break of its own accord, snap like a dry rubber band. Peter fidgeted, shifting his plump frame in his chair with a quiet shuffling sound. Remus wanted to tell him that it was okay, that he could go back to the Common Room, but that would require speech.

A sudden faint scraping announced the opening of the door and Remus whipped his head around to see a pale and drawn James slip into the room, shutting the door noiselessly behind him. James took a deep breath, his eyes flicking between Remus and Peter. Remus clenched his teeth, waiting.

‘Well,’ James said shakily. ‘It—it’s going to be okay. Dumbledore’s fixed things with Snape; he won’t be telling anyone.’

Not trusting his voice, Remus managed to raise disbelieving eyebrows.

‘I think we can count on it,’ James assured him, giving him a tight smile. ‘Dumbledore was very clear about what would happen if Snape ever took it into his head to start certain rumours.’

Remus nodded, swallowing. If Dumbledore was confident Snape wouldn’t say anything, it was the best he was going to get. ‘Well. That’s something.’ His voice cracked a little with strain.

‘Erm, James?’ Peter faltered. ‘What about—you know…I mean, is, er, Sirius…?’

James threw him a dark look. ‘Not expelled,’ he said shortly.

‘Oh,’ was all Peter could say. Remus didn’t say anything at all, and James looked at him warily.

‘He’ll be in soon, I think. After Dumbledore finishes talking to him. Do you want me to…?’

It was a moment before Remus realised that James was, in essence, offering to throw Sirius out if the latter’s presence would make Remus uncomfortable. The magnitude of the gesture was not lost on him, but he shook his head. ‘That’s fine,’ he said. James nodded and went to pull up a chair.

For a while the three boys sat in silence, none of them looking at each other. Remus again focused on the tapestry of the Healers, studying the worn threadwork to give his eyes the excuse of purpose. Minutes ticked by, unmarked but for the increased amount of fidgeting from Peter. James sat in one corner, arms crossed over his chest, boring holes into the floor with his eyes. Remus could not bear to look at him.

Finally, just as he was sure he could not take another second of the tension, there came the softest of knocks at the door. For the second time, all heads swivelled to face it. Remus locked eyes with James once, and then swallowed.

‘Come in,’ he called evenly.

There was a pause. Then the door slowly creaked open, and Sirius slunk into the room.

James was on his feet in a moment. Peter dithered for a second between sitting and rising before keeping his seat, tucking his knees up to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. Sirius looked at neither of them.

Despite the sudden spike of anger that lanced through him, Remus was struck in a detached, scientific sort of way by the sight of his old friend. White-faced and stripped of his usual careless panache, Sirius hovered uncertainly in the doorway, eyes cast down. With infinite care, he closed the door behind him, wincing slightly when it made an audible click. Then he took a shaky breath, eyes flickering up to Remus at last.

‘Remus…’ he whispered.

‘Yes?’ Remus noted with surprise that his voice sounded completely reasonable, if rather cool.

‘I—’ Sirius looked like he might choke on his own breath. ‘I’m s-so sorry…I never thought—’

‘Unfortunately,’ interrupted Remus, ‘that is remarkably clear.’ A cold, heavy stone seemed to have taken up residence in his chest. It was uncomfortable, but it allowed him to think straight.

Sirius didn’t seem to know what to say. A kind of horrified misery was stamped starkly on his face. For some reason this made Remus even angrier. Sick fury rose in his throat as he watched Sirius search helplessly for the right words.

‘Remus,’ Sirius began again, his voice shaking slightly. ‘I—I didn’t mean for it to hurt you. I didn’t think he would actually g-go—’

James made a sound of contempt, and Sirius flinched. He stared at the floor, shoulders hunched.

‘It was the worst, stupidest thing I’ve ever done; I’m so sorry, please—if there’s anything I could…? I—I’m just so sorry, please, Remus, I…’

He was begging, and Remus suddenly found that he hated him for it. He had never heard Sirius plead like this before and the sound made him want to scream from the injustice. What right had Sirius to beg, after what he had put Remus through tonight? What right had he to be weak now, when Remus wanted to tear him apart? Sirius would never know what it was to be ripped from his own mind, forced to become an uncontrollable beast that could slaughter any innocent his friends might think it amusing to throw in his path. Remus’s throat constricted with fear and rage and betrayal; he knew he would not be able to control it for long. For once he didn’t care. The hideousness of what he had so narrowly avoided was blinding him.

‘Do you realise,’ he said, speaking each word distinctly, with deadly politeness, ‘what would have happened to me?’

Sirius went, if possible, paler still. He didn’t speak.

‘Of course, we are, for the moment, ignoring the fact that you would have caused the death of Severus Snape…’

James set his teeth.

‘But you would also have made me a murderer.’ On the last word, his voice began to shake at last, the tears he had been fighting all night rising in his throat. ‘Is that what you wanted?’

Sirius was frozen, mute as stone.

‘It’s not enough that I have to live my life as a monster,’ Remus spat out, ignoring the collective wince that went around the room, ‘It’s not enough that I have to go through school in fear of someone discovering my secret, but now one of the only people I thought I could count on decides to have a go at blowing it all for a joke.’

The room was dead silent, the disdain of the final word ringing in the air. Remus had thought voicing the feelings he never spoke aloud would be a relief, make him stronger. Instead they seemed to erode his resolve. Two unwilling tears slid down his cheeks as he fought to retain his composure.

‘Why?’ he demanded.

Sirius closed his eyes briefly, looking as though he would like nothing better than to die right then. He shook his head. ‘I’m…sorry,’ he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

‘They could’ve sent me to Azkaban!’ Remus snarled.

‘I know.’ He was only mouthing the words now. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I—don’t—care.’

Sirius nodded, tight-lipped. The sharp pain of betrayal inside Remus twisted unbearably. He felt filthy with the unsaid things that were toxins inside him, poisoning his blood. He stared at Sirius, and the most ironic thought occurred to him. It had nagged and gnawed at him since the summer and now it was acid on his tongue. Even in this state, long habit of consideration told him he shouldn’t say it aloud, but the thought was fleeting. It was all too much, and he could not stand to hide one more thing just now.

‘I don’t know why you bothered,’ he breathed into the painful silence. ‘Why run off over laws that limit werewolf rights? As far as I’m concerned, you nearly did the job yourself tonight.’

It came the closest to expressing the depth of treachery that had been committed.

The sick astonishment that filled Sirius’s face was almost satisfying, but James also caught his breath in shock. At once, Sirius whipped around to face him.

‘You said you wouldn’t tell him!’ For the first time anger coloured his voice.

‘I didn’t!’ James snapped, stung.

‘He didn’t,’ Remus repeated, without energy. ‘Dad was at the Ministry that day; I put two and two together. I’m usually right about things like that.’ He couldn’t look at them, tracing the squares of his quilt instead. ‘Thoughtful to keep it from me,’ he added wearily.

None of them said anything for a moment. Finally James spoke, his voice even as he addressed Sirius.

‘I think you had better go.’

Sirius nodded again, shattered. He left without another word.

In the corner to Remus’s left, Peter breathed out a shaky sigh. Remus collapsed back onto his pillows. He felt empty and drained. It was several minutes before he found his voice again.

‘I guess I never really thanked you, James, for what you did tonight,’ he said dully.

James sat slumped in his chair, his face bleak. ‘Don’t mention it.’

Sirius reached top of the Astronomy Tower in a daze. It was incredible he had not been caught; he didn’t remember taking any particular care not to be seen. A small part of his mind acknowledged that it was foolish to the point of insanity to break more rules tonight. A much larger part knew with immovable certainty that he could not face the Gryffindor common room tonight.

The meeting with Dumbledore had been excruciating. Sirius hadn’t known it was possible to feel so much shame at one time. He had spent most of the interview staring at the surface of Dumbledore’s desk, focusing on betraying as little emotion as possible. This would have been hard enough with Snape sitting next to him, lobbying for his immediate expulsion and possible arrest, but Dumbledore’s quiet reproaches and inescapable disappointment had made it nearly impossible. And yet even that had been nothing compared to the meeting with his friends.

Sirius moved to the battlements, leaning against the cool stones, seeking support from their impersonal strength. Vacantly, he stared into the endless black sky, trying to wash the image of Remus’s stricken face from his mind. Automatically, his eyes traced the familiar constellations, his mind ticking off the names in his head. He stopped when he got to Leo, lingering on the star Regulus.

A new wave of sick shame swept through him, rippling over his determined numbness. It seemed criminally ludicrous now, to allow himself to become so upset over his erstwhile brother. Like he cared. Like Regulus meant anything to him next to James or Remus or—

And then the full force of panic set in. The reaction was so immediate, so physically intense that at first he did not realise why he felt compelled to his knees on the cold, even stones, nearly doubled up in grief and an unnameable terror. He pressed his face against the battlements, trying to stop his heart from battering through his chest, attempting to take deep, steadying breaths.

He could hear his own desperate pants, which was a wonder, since the voice that was screaming inside his head was drawing most of his attention.

This was it. He had finally done it. They would never forgive him for this, never. He had seen the betrayal that twisted Remus’s usually complacent features. He had seen the condemnation in James’s eyes—James, who had never condemned him before, who was like family to him.

A weak laugh escaped between his slowing gasps, and then he couldn’t stop. This seemed to be becoming a sort of sick habit with him, observed the part of him not immediately occupied with shattering into pieces.

Losing two families in under sixth months. That had to be some kind of record. He stopped laughing. Maybe there was something wrong with him, an unseen deformity that made him let people down. Abruptly, Dumbledore’s face flashed into his mind; the way the headmaster’s piercing blue eyes had been filled with anger and disappointment. Sirius had not been able to meet his gaze when Dumbledore demanded his motives. Hadn’t even been able to answer.

How could he have done it? How could he have risked his friend for a petty prank? He had not actually believed Snape would have the guts to take him up on his challenge, (though he had to admit he wasn’t sure if it would have made a difference at that moment). But the danger to Remus hadn’t even occurred to him, he had been so angry. What if Remus had killed Snape inadvertently? Remus had said what would happen, in the Hospital Wing. Remus would have him, Sirius, to thank for making him a murderer. Sirius squeezed his eyes shut against the searing shame that lanced through him. It was inexcusable. Unforgivable.

‘Stupid,’ he spat in a cracked whisper. The sound of his own voice was so pathetically broken that he felt a flash of embarrassment, despite the fact that there was nobody around to hear. Fighting back tears, he sat back, drawing his knees to his chest and dropping his head onto them with a groan. What could he say to make them forgive him? What could he do to fix his horrible mistake? How could he make Remus understand how sorry he was? There was nothing.

‘Good evening, Mr Black.’

Sirius’s head snapped up, cracking against the battlements. Albus Dumbledore had appeared on the tower from nowhere, his silver beard glimmering in the moonlight. An electric shock shot through Sirius; he scrambled to his feet.

‘Professor Dumbledore,’ he gasped, only too aware that he was out of bounds. ‘Professor, I’m sorry, I was going back to the common room, I just—’

Dumbledore held up one long-fingered hand to silence his protests. ‘That’s quite all right. I suspected that you might seek somewhere to collect your thoughts. I often come up here myself; the sky is an indulgent listener, don’t you agree?’ He smiled serenely, but Sirius could not bring himself to smile back.

Dumbledore strolled to the battlements and leaned against them, perfectly at ease. Sirius joined him awkwardly, keeping as much distance between them as he could while still being polite.

‘I have just been to see your friend, Mr. Remus Lupin,’ Dumbledore began, without looking at him.

Sirius’s heart twisted sickly at the word ‘friend,’ but still he did not speak. He stared at the stones beneath his feet.

‘Is there anything you would like to tell me?’

The question came out of nowhere, soft and neutral.

‘Sir?’ Sirius asked, confused.

‘Anything about tonight you would like to speak of, perhaps, out of the hearing of Mr. Snape?’

New anxiety prickled up his spine. This conversation could come dangerously close to the subject of Animagi. It had been miracle enough that Sirius had escaped giving anything away during the initial confrontation with Dumbledore, especially as he had recently discovered just how difficult it was to hide things from the headmaster.

‘I—not really,’ he stammered.

Dumbledore turned to watch him, and in even in the dark Sirius could feel those piercing blue eyes boring into him. It occurred to Sirius that he did have several things he wanted to say, though only one of those was he willing to share aloud. He dropped his gaze, turning to stare straight ahead.

‘I’m…really sorry, sir. For everything. I don’t know why I…’ His words were barely audible and woefully inadequate. He wished Dumbledore would look away.

‘Sirius, I am not blind, for all that I am exceedingly old. I realise there is no love lost between you and Mr. Snape, and I am aware that this has been an exceptionally difficult few months for you.’

Sirius stiffened. Was it possible this conversation was going to get more uncomfortable? How was it that everyone was aware of the details of his home life?

Dumbledore continued, his gentle voice never breaking pace. ‘Leaving one’s home is a monumental decision, and with such decisions are bound to come unforeseen regrets.’

‘I don’t regret that decision,’ Sirius snapped, without thinking. ‘Sir,’ he added belatedly.

Dumbledore was silent a moment, gazing out over the grounds. ‘You cannot choose your brother’s path for him,’ he said softly. ‘Regulus is his own person, as you are yours.’

The directness of the statement threw Sirius off. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, that would dilute the harsh honesty of it, but his breath seeped out in a sigh of defeat. How Dumbledore had gleaned his motives from Snape’s edited and biased testimony Sirius would never know. He did not have the energy to care.

Dumbledore was watching, his blue eyes far too kind for comfort. Sirius shook his head.

‘I know,’ he mumbled. ‘It’s no excuse.’ His eyes blurred treacherously, the price of candour. ‘I can’t believe I endangered Remus because of…him.’ He didn’t know whether he was referring to his brother or Snape. Maybe both.

‘I assume you have made your apologies to Mr. Lupin?’ Dumbledore pressed quietly.

Sirius nodded. He hoped Dumbledore knew it had been more genuine than the one he had been pressed to give Snape in the headmaster’s office.

‘I could only assume he was rather reluctant to accept?’

Closing his eyes, Sirius nodded again.

‘That is understandable,’ Dumbledore observed gently.

‘I know, sir.’ He had to speak an octave lower than usual to ensure his voice didn’t crack. Somehow he didn’t think the headmaster was fooled.

Dumbledore sighed, and turned once more to face the open sky. ‘Friendships are the most remarkable things,’ he murmured dreamily. ‘Fragile as our weakest moments, and yet somehow able to withstand the most taxing trials of human nature.’

Sirius snorted; it was that or sob. Dumbledore watched him closely.

‘You share a very strong bond with Messers Lupin, Potter, and Pettigrew. I am much mistaken if they will not be willing to forgive you…given time and effort.’

Sirius squinted up at Orion. ‘I’m…not so sure about that, sir.’ Only now did he realise his greatest fear. How inconvenient.

‘No one is sure of forgiveness. That is why it is such a wonderful thing.’

If you get it, Sirius thought. But Dumbledore had been much kinder than he deserved, so he tried not to let his doubt show. ‘Yes, sir.’

Dumbledore seemed to sense it anyway. ‘It is the business of humans to make mistakes, Sirius. They are merely part of our growing pains. What matters is how we rise to the occasion. Personally, I often find a good night’s sleep to be very conducive to making fresh starts,’ he hinted.

‘Yes, sir,’ sighed Sirius. ‘I should be getting back,’ he added uselessly, and turned to go. For all that he admired the headmaster’s wisdom, he could not help but doubt that Dumbledore had ever made a mistake so deplorable as this.

The next several days were the most miserable in Sirius’s remembrance. Neither James nor Remus would speak to him, and although Sirius was fairly certain that Peter held nothing against him, Wormtail was too intimidated to go against the majority. Never since Sirius had begun at Hogwarts had he ever been without his three best friends, and the loss hit him harder than he could have imagined. For the first two days he stalked Remus between classes, trying to apologise every chance he got. This was made somewhat difficult by the fact that James seemed to have appointed himself Remus’s personal bodyguard, and after the fifth time that James told him in no uncertain terms that Remus did not want to talk, Sirius gave up in despair.

His feelings towards James shifted by the hour. At first his friend’s stubbornness was easy to accept—James was in the right, after all. But soon the unyielding abandonment turned Sirius’s fear and frustration into bitter anger, and at last even that gave way to depression. It was nearly unendurable, the way the hours dragged on, every minute that ticked by emphasizing his isolation. The blinding panic returned in muted form, gnawing at him like a festering wound. No matter what Dumbledore had said, he could not shake the dread that he might have forfeited any chance he had at redemption.

For lack of another plan, he started hanging out with some of their peripheral friends, but this was almost as bad as being completely alone. Mundungus Fletcher could not understand Sirius’s lack of high spirits, and Frank Longbottom would not stop asking him what was wrong and suggesting helpful (and irrelevant) courses of action. Sirius took to avoiding the Gryffindor Common Room altogether, staying as late as he possibly could in the Owlery or library and then going directly to bed.

On the fourth night he fell asleep in the Magical Zoology aisle, waking up long after midnight to find the library deserted. Listlessly, he trudged back to the Common Room, and ended up standing vaguely outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, not wanting to go in but not knowing what else to do. At last she started from her slumber, giving him a baleful glare.

‘It’s not nice to stare!’ she snapped. ‘If you don’t have the password, be off with you, and leave a poor woman to sleep in peace.’

For a moment Sirius actually considered turning right around and spending the night in one of the secret passageways. But this seemed both unnecessary and cowardly, so instead he muttered, ‘Twiddle-Twaddle’ and climbed through the portrait hole.

The common room was dark, the fire long since burned down to coals. Sirius stood still, gathering his courage about him. He seemed to need inordinate amounts for the smallest of tasks these days. Hopefully he could sneak into the dormitory without waking anyone, and face them all in the morning…

‘Hey.’

Sirius jumped at the voice, swallowing a gasp as his heart leapt into overdrive. Near the fireplace, one of the shadows detached itself from an armchair and stood, silhouetted in the pale moonlight that filtered in through the window. Knowing who it was before he lit his wand, Sirius murmured, ‘Lumos,’ mentally bracing himself. If things got nasty he would go sleep in a passageway. He couldn’t take much more of this.

His wandlight glinted off glasses. ‘Hey, James,’ he returned, his voice subdued.

‘Hey,’ James repeated. His hair was rumpled and his pyjamas wrinkled, as though he had been sitting in the chair for quite some time. They stared at each other.

‘Look, I—’ James began, at the same time Sirius said, ‘Could we just—’

‘Go ahead,’ they said together. James snorted lightly. Sirius locked his jaw.

James stared at his feet. ‘So…where’ve you been?’

‘Library,’ Sirius said brusquely. He didn’t think he needed to elaborate further.

James nodded, his eyes looking anywhere but at Sirius’s. ‘Right. So, I was…thinking. And er, what you did—I mean, that was really stupid…’

‘I know,’ Sirius gritted. And immediately regretted it. Right then he decided to swallow his pride. It didn’t matter, he would apologise all night if he had to. He opened his mouth to do just that, but James held up a hand.

‘No, look, don’t—you don’t have to apologise any more,’ he said quickly. ‘I know you didn’t…’ he took a deep breath. ‘I know you just—rush into things sometimes and don’t think them through. And I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt Remus on purpose, so...’

For the first time, a glimmer of hope lit in Sirius’s chest. His throat constricted, warning him not to take the bait.

‘Anyway, I know how bad you feel, and—’ James took a deep breath. ‘I’ve been—a bit harsh, so…OK.’

Sirius studied James’s face by the light of his wand, still held loosely in his hand. Something was stopping his brain from processing James’s words. ‘OK?’ he repeated warily.

‘Well…yeah. I mean, I’m sorry I’ve been such a git. That was daft. You’re not…angry, or anything, are you?’

For the briefest moment Sirius was silent. His instincts craved the shield that anger would provide. But he knew only too well where his instincts had got him. He shook his head. ‘Of course not,’ he mumbled, wishing he could recover his usual nonchalance. ‘You mean you…you know…you—forgive me?’ The word sounded much less natural in his mouth than in Dumbledore’s.

A tiny smile tugged at James’s lips. ‘Yeah. Guess so. Suppose I can’t blame you for wanting to take the little slimeball out…’

Sirius barked out a laugh. The sound was startlingly loud, too flooded with relief to pass as cool. He didn’t care. If James could joke about it, everything was going to be all right. But almost as soon as the thought hit him, he sobered.

‘Remus?’ he asked quietly.

James’s smile faded. ‘Well, you should probably talk to him tomorrow, but I have a feeling he was ready to forgive you before I was. The bloke has the temperament of a saint.’

Sirius nodded, his spirits plummeting despite his friend’s light words. He wasn’t sure he wanted to trust ‘a feeling.’ James read the thought on his face.

‘Don’t worry. Sure, he was mad, but he’ll come around,’ he said quietly.

‘You think so?’ Sirius couldn’t help but ask.

‘’Course,’ James soothed. ‘What are friends for, mate?’

‘I haven’t exactly held up my end of that deal,’ Sirius pointed out.

‘Yeah, well. Remus always had more sense than you.’

Sirius smiled back sadly. James yawned widely and, Sirius suspected, falsely.

‘Come on, Padfoot. Time for bed. Holding a grudge wears me out.’ He trudged towards the staircase. ‘You know Snape hasn’t even thanked me? Ungrateful git.’

Snorting, Sirius followed him up towards the Fifth Years’ dormitories. Suddenly it was as though nothing had ever happened between them; it felt like his life had clicked back into place. A slow grin spread over his face. ‘Glad to see your heroics haven’t made you lose reason. By the way, I never really thanked you for that. I mean, obviously, because it kept me from getting expelled. But, er…going after Snape like that, it was really…really good of you,’ Sirius admitted heavily. ‘Not that he deserved it,’ he added, on afterthought.

‘No problem,’ yawned James, as he dragged his feet up the spiral staircase. This one might have been genuine.

‘So, what made you change your mind?’ Sirius whispered, when they reached the dormitory.

James crept passed a snoring Peter. ‘You’ll never guess.’ He plopped down on his bed. ‘It was actually Lily Evans.’

‘What? Evans?’ Sirius sat on his own bed, squinting at James in the dark. ‘You’re kidding.’

‘No. She heard we had a big fight—well, I guess I wasn’t being quiet about it. I mean of course I didn’t tell her anything,’ he amended hurriedly, seeing Sirius’s frown. ‘But it was hard to miss.’

‘Uh-huh,’ Sirius prompted, hoping James wouldn’t dwell on this. ‘And?’

‘Well, she actually got kind of angry with me,’ James admitted sheepishly. ‘She just came up to me last night and told me I was acting really immature and that only a complete clot would throw away a friendship like ours over a stupid prank…that’s the official story by the way. Although I think only a few people even heard that—Dumbledore can really keep a thing quiet when he wants to.’

‘Wow,’ observed Sirius. ‘Evans…weird. That girl gets fussed over the strangest things.’

‘Well, she was right, wasn’t she?’ James defended her. ‘But it was weird, yeah…apparently she heard from Alice, who had it from Frank that you were—well, that you felt really bad about the whole thing.’ He laughed softly. ‘She thought I ought give you a little more rope, what with your family and all—although she did say that was no excuse for whatever you did. Prefect to the last. Still had the nerve to tell me I ought to have more consideration for your feelings.’

Sirius laughed too, remembering the awkward conversation in the library. But underneath his genuine humour he felt a familiar twinge of annoyance. When was everyone going to understand that he did not need sympathy? Pushing the thought aside, he focused instead on how good it felt to be back where he belonged. A comfortable silence fell between him and James, as they quietly crawled into bed. James dropped his glasses on the bedside table. Sirius didn’t even bother undressing. He stared contentedly up at the velvet hangings, listening to Peter’s rattling snores.

‘So,’ he heard James whisper into the dark. ‘When we go home over holidays, remind me not to extend an open invitation to Wormtail. I need my beauty sleep.’

‘Too right, you do. So…you still want me to stay?’ The casual question caught even Sirius by surprise. He had not been planning to ask it. He hadn’t even known it had been bothering him. A fresh stab of terrible uncertainty pierced him as he realised his own latent fear.

‘I—what?’ James rolled over on his side to stare incredulously in Sirius’s direction. Sirius matched him stare for stare, and James jammed his glasses back on his face. His hazel eyes were suddenly narrowed, and neither of them spoke for a moment.

‘You,’ breathed James finally, enunciating each word very clearly, ‘have got to be. The world’s. Biggest. Idiot.’

‘It’s a simple question,’ Sirius growled, not giving an inch.

‘What, you thought I was going to just kick you out…? Oh…oh, Padfoot, mate…’ James raised his eyebrows in admiration. ‘You really do have some major issues.’

‘And if I do?’ challenged Sirius. He was past lying to himself, past caring how desperate he sounded. He needed this question answered.

James groaned softly, mashing his face into his pillow. ‘Of course!’ he blurted, surfacing. A few beds down, Frank grunted in his sleep, and James lowered his voice to a hiss. ‘Of course I still want you to stay! Sirius, you prat…it’s not like I’m just going to stop being friends with you ‘cause we had a fight.’

The honesty in James’s voice was undeniable. ‘Fine,’ Sirius shrugged coolly, concealing the fact that waves of relief were washing through him with the force of a tsunami. ‘Just checking.’

‘Besides, it’s not all up to me. Mum would throw a fit if I showed up at home without you.’

‘Can’t blame her, can you? Fifteen years of undiluted you? Karma owes her a decent son.’

The familiar jibe rolled easily off his tongue, and James snorted appreciatively before flopping over to go to sleep. But Sirius stayed awake, feeling the aftertaste of the word in his mouth. Son. That was new. He was thinking in terms of family again, even though he had sworn that would never happen again.

Sirius studied the shadows above him, brow furrowed as he let the knowledge sink in slowly. It felt exceedingly strange to spend almost six months wishing people would stop defining him by his old family only to find he had unconsciously signed up for a new one. He rolled over, listening for Remus’s even breathing. It struck him that maybe part of getting older was realising that family wasn’t something you could ever really run away from. There was an odd comfort in that thought.

‘And Evans still won’t go out with me.’

The exasperated whisper came out of nowhere. Sirius laughed quietly, elation at having his best friend back swelling in his chest.

Dumbledore was right. James had forgiven him. And, he realised, with a stirring of the old confidence, Remus would too. After all, that’s what real families did.