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.’
Growing Pains by starscribe
Chapter Notes: And we get to the meat of it...