Sirius Black is, by nature, a very curious person. Everything interests him. Magic. People. Learning how to put things together. Learning how to make them work. Learning how to take them apart. Schoolwork would interest him as well if he hadn’t figured it all out already.
So he is very quietly consumed by his curiosity in regards to what could possibly be so wrong with Remus J. Lupin’s mother as to require him to visit her every month but it, at the same time, not so wrong as to explain why, half way through their second year, she’s still alive. Not, of course, that he wants Remus’s mum to die. He’s just curious. In his mind, something so terrible that it can not be cured by magic should kill a person. And in less time than a year and a half.
So it is no wonder that Sirius is both confused and deathly curious.
He knows he should just ask. Suggest that they should all go with him on a visit once, just to see what Remus’s reaction would be. Except for the special sort of awkwardness of Remus’s that, aside for giving Sirius pause in suggesting this, fascinates him as well; it is almost as though his friend isn’t comfortable in his own skin. Which is yet another curiosity to Sirius who, at the ripe old age of twelve is in complete possession of his own body. It was the way he was brought up and raised to be.
Remus though, confused half-blood that he is, dorming with the two loudest, rowdiest and most mischief-making boys in the entire school, doesn’t simply look as though he doesn’t want to be where he is, he looks as though he wants to escape.
And Sirius is going to find out why.
*****
It is the middle of March and Sirius is lying in bed, feeling rather bored. Peter is muttering spells to himself and James has completely conked out on his own bed, having kept himself up too late for too many nights in the last few weeks to remain a functioning human being now, even at the incredibly early hour of six p.m. Remus has just left to see his mother and Sirius has no one.
He growls out of boredom, wishing for the barest moment that there was an Astronomy to look forward to tonight. Of course, he realizes that this is a completely insane thought for him or anyone–even Remus doesn’t like Astronomy for some reason–to think and he vanishes the thought as he rises from his bed to stalk to the window, leaning against the sill despondently.
He shakes the word out of his head. Remus has no right to put such words in his head if he’s just going to abandon them every month. Just going to up and leave like there are things in life more important that his friends. Like sneaking off with Madam Pomfrey is more fun than pulling pranks on her. Like taunting the Willow with her is more fun then doing it with them. Like–
He squints, pressing his nose up against the blurry glass. He hasn’t imagined it. Remus really is hurrying across the grounds, Madam Pomfrey’s arm around his shoulders as they move closer and closer to the Whomping Willow.
Sirius is very, very angry that Remus would rather get smashed with the nurse than hang out with them. With him.
He is very hurt by this clear betrayal, the obvious lie. Remus had lied to them all this time. He can not possibly be going to visit his mother like he says he is, because he’d have to go towards Hogsmeade to get to the train, which is off the school grounds. And the Whomping Willow is further onto and into the grounds, not off them.
Sirius’s eyes follow, curious and offended, as the pair as they move closer to the tree. He watches its branches tense, feeling the nearness of others. It freezes for a moment and then–the branches move. Flinging out as if to smash the two unwanted visitors. And it nearly does beat them into the ground. Sirius finds himself holding back a yell of warning as a heavy limb reaches out, makes an angry swipe, knowing they can’t hear but. He presses himself against the window, as though he might save them, if only he can get through the heavy glass.
He shuts his eyes as a branch strikes out like a basilisk, knowing he is helpless to stop it. They open again of their own volition and he watches, horrified when–
Everything freezes.
He lets out a breath when he realizes that he’s been holding it in. The Willow looks as though it is out of time–heavy limbs suspended, the trunk still, not a single leaf blowing in the late winter wind.
Sirius takes another breath. Everything is fine now. Madam Pomfrey and Remus are going to step away from the Willow, and then step away again. And again and again until they are back in the castle. At which point Sirius is going to demand that Professor Dumbledore fire the woman claiming to care for their health but is instead leading students to the tree that acts as though it’s got a branch stuck up its trunk.
Remus takes a nervous step backwards and turns to the Nurse.
From a distance, Sirius sees her place a friendly hand on his shoulder.
And then, just when he thinks that Madam Pomfrey and Remus are going to gather their marbles once more and come back into the castle where it is warm and safe and, more importantly, there are no mad trees trying to kill them–Madam Pomfrey, with that friendly hand, pushes Remus towards the tree.
He knows that he can’t reach them in time. He knows the leaves have already started to rustle, that the tree is shaking off whatever spell has caused its unnatural stillness. But that doesn’t stop him from running out the dormitory, through the Common Room, down what should have only been seven flights of stairs but managed to be thirteen and through the main entrance to come to a panting stop halfway down the front lawn, some safe feet away from the Willow.
Remus and Madam Pomfrey are gone.