Deny Thy Father

Part V: Beginning to Sever

The echo of his father's voice bounded off the walls of Sirius's head. He curled tighter around himself, clutching James's comforter around him. Mrs. Potter had checked in twice with tea and ice, but Sirius screwed his eyes shut and pretended to be asleep. He knew she wasn't fooled, but she took the hint and didn't try to speak to him.

Why, oh why had he hit back? What had possessed him to do that? He could have shut up. He could have begged for forgiveness. There were a thousand things Sirius could have done, but he chose the stupidest. He'd hit his father back.

Maybe he shouldn't have pounded Regulus. That probably wasn't the best idea. But Regulus should know better than to talk like that about Peter or Remus, saying that Peter was a blubbering crybaby and Remus was a piece of filth and nothing more. It wasn't anything new- Sirius had been hearing it all summer. But today he had snapped.

His parents hadn't taken it well. His first loyalty should be to Regulus. And his father had said Regulus was right. Perhaps he should be more tactful in his opinions about Peter, but some things were just done and over and Peter needed to grow up and act it. Remus hadn't even been mentioned.

He'd shouted back. He'd known what would come of that.

He'd gotten it, in a harsh cuff across the face that lead to a bruised cheek.

He'd struck. For the first time in his life, he'd struck at his own father.

"Don't you ever, EVER hit me again!" They'd both said it.

And his father had struck back.

From there it was a flurry of anger and shouting, black eyes and blood, the green of a Flooed fire and the spinning travel, and staggering unexpected out of the Potters' fireplace and startling Amelia Potter away from her knitting. Now he was tucked away in James's bed, the familiar scent of James around him, waiting desperately and not knowing what he was going to say.

It was late when he heard James pounding up the stairs. The door flew open and the comforter was yanked down, and James drew a breath in a pronounced gasp.

"Sirius..."

Sirius struggled to sit up, silently begging James to stop looking at him that way. Don't look at me like that. Like I'm going to fall apart. Like you don't know what to say. Don't look at me like I'm... like I'm Remus. Or Peter. I'm Sirius. I'm different. I'm...

"You said I could come here," Sirius said, surprised at how even his voice was. "If I needed to..."

"You can," James said, pulling off his glasses and wiping his eyes. "Anytime."

"Where were you, anyway?"

"Just out. It wasn't important."

"It was."

"Out with some friends." James shifted uncomfortably. "The Lovegoods live around here. We went out to a Muggle cinema."

"What did you see?" Sirius snapped.

"The Stepford Wives."

"Was it good?"

"Sirius, why are we talking about this?" James exploded. "You show up in our fire with your eyes black and blue and your face all bloody and won't even speak to my mother and we're talking about a Muggle movie?"

"What do you expect? I'm not going to put my head in your lap and start crying and telling you everything! Who does that? Really?"

"Peter did," James said quietly.

"Yeah, well, now we know why Peter's in Gryffindor, don't we?" Sirius couldn't believe he'd said it, or the bitterness of his own voice. He slid to sit on the floor as James settled to sit on the bed. Sirius hugged his knees to his chest. "Peter's got more guts than I'll ever have," he said quietly.

"No. Peter has more direct problems than you've got," James corrected. "It's easy to say you loved your father and mourn his death and you miss him. What's not to understand about that? You... you love your parents and hate them, and you ran this time but you'll go home in two days."

"So you see why I can't talk about it?"

"Yeah, I guess I do."

Sirius sighed and leaned his head against James's knee. "Thanks."

"Any time."

Sirius stayed where he was, letting James's understanding silence wash over him like a balm to his soul.

***

"Would you boys stop tearing around the house? Please?! This is ridiculous!"

"Sorry Mum!" James shouted as they sprinted down the stairs, and swore as a vase toppled off an end table.

Timothy Potter emerged from his study. "That's it!" he roared. "Outside! Now!"

"But Dad, it's raining out!"

"I don't care! I have work to do! Go!"

James had opened his mouth to argue when a ring from the doorbell interrupted him.

"Now what?" Mr. Potter demanded irritably, flinging open the door.

Arden Black stood awkwardly on the doorstep. "Is Sirius here?" he asked without any preamble.

Mr. Potter drew back, and from his place halfway down the stairs, Sirius could see his father standing on the front stoop, drenched from the rain. "He is," Mr. Potter said stiffly. "Come in, won't you?"

Mr. Black inclined his head and stepped inside. Instinctively, Sirius drew back into the shadows of the staircase against the wall.

"How is Sirius?" Arden finally said.

"He's fine," Mr. Potter said, his voice sharp. "Will you step into my study, Arden? There are things I would like to discuss with you."

Mr. Black's lips drew into a fine line, and there was an angry flush on his cheeks. "There is nothing to discuss."

"On the contrary, I think there is. Step into my study now."

Mr. Black obeyed, and the door was pulled shut. James turned back and looked at Sirius, uncertain of what to do.

"Does anyone else even know? I mean, about your dad and how he...?" James finally asked.

"Mr. Lupin, I think. I don't know. He doesn't like me, it's hard to say." It was part truth, part lie. It was very easy to say what Damien Lupin thought... and that he thought right.

"Well, should we...?" James shrugged, completely at a loss.

"We should stop tearing around the house, like your Mum ordered." Sirius forced a grin at the irony of their obedience. "Let's go back upstairs and act innocent."

"Can do."

From James's room they could hear the muffled argument coming from the study, but they couldn't hear the words. Sirius liked it that way.

"It's about time your dad came looking for you," James muttered as they closed the door behind them. "It's only been three days."

"Shut up."

"Sorry."

"'Sokay." Sirius began to pack. "You were pretty much right, you know."

"You're going home?"

"I think so." The shouting downstairs had ended, but Sirius guessed it would still be a few moments before someone came looking for them. "Wouldn't you?"

James shrugged and just said, "You can stay here."

"I can't."

"My parents would let you."

"My mother would kill me."

"Ah." James nodded.

The door opened, and both Mr. Potter and Mr. Black looked in. "James?" Mr. Potter asked. "May I have a word with you? Downstairs?"

"Sure." Eager to escape, James followed his father. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving Sirius and his father alone in James's room. Arden shifted uncomfortably as Sirius continued packing.

"You know," Arden said, settling on the bed, "we used to be able to talk. You used to ask me questions."

"A few times, I guess." Sirius kept his eyes down on the robe he was folding, which blurred in his sight.

"What's happened, Sirius? Every time I turn around you defy me in some way, and I can't understand why."

I don't agree with you. Everything you say is so filled with hate, and you don't even see it, do you? Being a pureblood just isn't important to me. "I don't know. I just..." Sirius sighed and sat down next to his father. "I don't want to," he said in a small voice he didn't recognize. "I just do."

"Sirius, I'm worried. I don't want you to end up like Andromeda."

"What, happy?" he blurted before he could think.

Arden pressed his lips together, and Sirius knew he was fighting down an angry retort. "No. Alone. Andromeda is going to regret her actions one day, mark my words. I don't want you to feel that regret."

"Why does it matter so much?" Sirius asked in a rush. "Blood, I mean? That's what it's about, Father. That's what I can't understand. Who cares?" But even as he spoke, he knew that wasn't all.

Arden sighed heavily. "It's important, Sirius. It might not be important to everyone, but our family has held true to it for generations. Can't you see that?"

"No. I can't. I can't see why."

"Can't you trust me?"

"Not any more. Not on this. You never tell me why it's so important. You just tell me it's what we've always believed? What if we've always believed wrongly, and blood isn't important?"

Arden shrugged. "We haven't. But perhaps, for now, we can agree to disagree? I want you to come home, Sirius."

Sirius bit his lip. There was so much more he wanted to ask, wanted to argue. But the Potters' house was not the place for it. And as much as he wanted to argue, a part of him wanted to seize the compromise his father extended. He didn't want to have to choose. He didn't want to take a stand, not at the expense of his family. "All right," he said. "I'll come home."

***

The remainder of the summer was jagged and uneven, going from periods of silent truce to angry arguments, although none of the arguments deteriorated into violence again. He received letters from his friends; cheerful letters from James detailing his exploits and anxious with unasked questions, short letters from Peter telling him about his family and this difficult summer, and long letters from Remus, where he dared more confidences in writing than he ever had in person, but still kept a veneer of humor. He wrote them all back, bragging to James, reassuring Peter, and teasing Remus, and for the first time signing his letters with the word "love", something he had never done in any letter. He knew when he wrote to his mother this year, his signature would be the same. It scared him, a bit, to use that word to anyone. It wasn't a word he'd used before, unless in reference to Quidditch or shepherd's pie.

He received a letter from Andromeda, happy and thick with pictures of her little girl, Nymphadora. Late in the summer he received one from his great-uncle Alphard, telling him he'd heard from his father and was concerned, but if he needed to talk write any time.

He did write back to Alphard, a long rambling letter with the questions he hadn't dared to pose to his father.

The last week of summer a lot of things changed. Alphard wrote back, saying that he didn't agree with Sirius, but he admired Sirius for being so independent and willing to question what he'd been taught, and he'd really like to meet up next time Sirius had a Hogsmeade visit. A column appeared on the front of the Daily Prophet, speaking out against Lord Voldemort. The column had been written by Timothy Potter, and Sirius was given the direct order to not be friends with James anymore. Remus wrote a short, shy letter telling Sirius that he had been made a Prefect, which Sirius saw as a golden opportunity to spend less time in detention. And on the sunny Saturday morning before they were due to return to Hogwarts, Sirius Black turned into a dog for the very first time.

***

"I got it, James! I got it!" Sirius couldn't control himself as he bounded to the Hogwarts Express. "I did it!"

"You're kidding!"

"I've almost got it, but I'm not quite there. I can't control it."

"I can't control it yet either, but I did it yesterday!" Sirius was exuberant.

James opened his mouth to reply, and then shut it, wilting visibly. Sirius turned around to see his father. Defiantly, he lifted his chin and put an arm around James's shoulder. Arden Black pressed his lips closed, and then turned away from Sirius without another word. But Elizabeth rolled her eyes and stepped forward to kiss her son goodbye.

"Write me," she whispered. "And don't worry about your father. James is fine."

"Thank you." He reached out and hugged her, a brief, grateful embrace. "I'll write," he promised.

Arden was talking to Regulus, deliberately not turning around to speak to his oldest son. Sirius wondered how much of what he'd said at the Potters he really meant. But he smiled at his mother, and then turned away to walk to the train with James, talking excitedly of their accomplishments and leaving Sirius's family behind.

***

"He's going to kill us. Any minute now," Peter whispered worriedly. "This wasn't a good idea."

"Nonsense. It was a great idea. How long is James going to take getting that cake?"

"He's only been gone for five minutes, Sirius."

"Shoot. Here he comes again. Look busy."

Sirius and Peter dove back down to their homework as Remus returned to the room, Charms book in hand. He looked from one to the other of them, but they were both immersed in work, and neither of them looked up as he picked up his papers.

"I'm going to go upstairs. I can't concentrate down here tonight," Remus said, his voice heavy.

Peter and Sirius just grunted, and Remus picked his things up in his arms and muttered a good night as he trudged up the stairs.

"I hate doing that to him," Peter said after Remus's footsteps had faded. "He really thinks we forgot his birthday."

"I know. Sometimes, we're too good. I really hope James hurries."

It felt like forever, but it was only another fifteen minutes before James reappeared in front of them suddenly, bearing a cake that the house elves had made. "Is he upstairs?"

"Yes, and feeling horribly sorry for himself, I'm sure," Peter said.

"Serves him right for turning to the dark side," James sniffed jokingly. "Honestly, becoming a prefect... come on. Let's go."

They crept upstairs, all three of them nervous and excited. Sirius thought he'd jump out of his skin if they had to wait any longer.

Remus was sitting on his bed, doing his Charms homework. He had taken off his Hogwarts robe and was wearing faded jeans and a t-shirt, his feet bare as he sat cross-legged on the pillow. Sirius was hit by a pang of guilt as he saw the sadness on Remus's face, an expression Remus very rarely allowed anyone to see.
"All right, Peter. Go," James commanded, grinning from ear to ear.

Peter flashed a smile back and transformed, and soon a large plump rat with soft grey hair was scurrying across the room and clambering up the post onto Remus's bed.

"Hey! What the-?" Remus sat up straight as the rat perched on his book. "Go away!"

Sirius couldn't see it, but he could imagine Peter wiggling his nose endearingly.

"I don't have any cheese or anything," Remus said impatiently, but not as harshly. "Go on. Get."

Peter scrambled up Remus's harm, nuzzling against his cheek.

"Oh, for crying out loud. All right. Stay." He reached up and scratched Peter.

"Give him a minute?" Sirius asked James in a mischievous whisper.

"Definitely."

Sirius and James watched as Remus settled back against the pillow. Peter had left his precarious perch on Remus's shoulder and was now nestled in the crook of his arm. Remus was idly stroking him as he read his Charms text.

"Okay, go for it Sirius," James said as Remus turned a page.

With a huge smile, Sirius transformed into a big black dog. He sniffed the floor as if he'd been following a trail as he entered their dorm room, then pretended to spot Peter and gave an excited yelp. Remus jumped.

"Hey! Get away from him!" he shouted as Sirius jumped up on Remus and playfully snapped at Peter. Remus grabbed a roll of parchment and whacked Sirius on the nose. "Bad dog! Sit!" Sirius sat, well aware that James was probably laughing his arse off outside the door.

"Is this why you're in here?" Remus asked the rat. "All right. I won't let him get you. Although I didn't think it was dogs that chased rats- isn't that cats?"

Sirius whined and nudged his nose under Remus's arm, flopping his friend's hand to his muzzle. Tentatively, Remus scratched, and Sirius felt his tail wagging.

"Well, you're really just a big puppy after all, aren't you? I don't think he's after you, Rat." Peter gave Remus a look that was so reproachful that Sirius was sure Remus would guess. But Remus simply said, "What, not Rat? Okay. How about Gus? It's a mouse from a Muggle- okay! Okay! Don't nip! Sorry. I've never been a rat fan. I'm only talking to you today because I... oh, just because." With the bite he'd put Peter down and was now using both hands to scratch Sirius's ears. It felt really good, and it set that tail wagging even harder. "I'm not bloody Cinderella, you know talking to rats and dogs because I don't have friends," Remus was saying. "I do have friends." Peter nudged him with his nose. "All right, all right. Wormtail. How's that sound?"

Peter's nose wrinkled, but Sirius yipped in appreciation.

"See? He likes it! Don't you boy? Yes, you do." Remus started scratching Sirius's chest, and to his intense shame Sirius found himself rolling over for a belly rub. "I wish you could stay around, boy," Remus said as he slid to the floor to sit by Sirius. "I always wanted a dog. Dad said no, though. He said it was because I'm, well, you know. But I think he was afraid it would die on me and I'd get hurt." Remus snorted. "Maybe he was afraid... I don't know. But I always wanted a dog. You want to be my birthday present, Padfoot?" Sirius flipped back over and barked, wagging his tail enthusiastically. "Yeah, I wish you could be, too." Remus sighed. "Want to stay here while I study? I'm sure Filch will come along soon and kick you out, but maybe you can get at his cat before he does."

Remus pulled his book down off the bed and settled it in his crossed legs. Sirius rested his head on his knee, and Peter crawled back to the crook of Remus's arm. It was cozy and peaceful, and alarming as it was, Sirius was enjoying the way Remus was scratching his ear. No one mentioned this in the Animagus transformation.

The three of them were calm, and Sirius knew what was coming next. Three... two... one....

Right on cute, a magnificent stag walked into the room.

Remus jumped up. He didn't quite scream, but that was the closest description of the sound that emerged. "Sirius!" he shouted. "Peter! James! Get up here! You're not going to believe this! Come on! I'm not joking!"

Uh-oh. Sirius and Peter looked at each other, alarmed.

"This is too weird, even for Hogwarts," Remus was stammering as he fumbled for his wand. "Sirius! Where are you?" He raised his wand and pointed at James. Sirius and Peter transformed, Peter grabbing Remus's wand arm and Sirius clamping a hand over Remus's mouth. Remus's eyes widened an impossible amount. Then James transformed before him, and Remus fainted dead away.

***

"I've got to say it again, mate, we are good," Sirius said with deep satisfaction, resting his feet on the table before him.

"Good? Heck, we're unbelievable," James agreed, settling next to Sirius. "Did you see the look on his face?"

"I know. He couldn't believe it. I didn't think he'd faint though."

"Can you blame him? I mean, think about it, Sirius. In three years we've done what some wizards try for a lifetime to do. Do you know there's only six registered Animagi in Britain? Six!"

"I know," Sirius said with a smug grin. "Peter's been quoting those numbers at us for years."

"That and the number of wizards who've tried and gotten themselves killed, or worse," James agreed, putting his feet on the table next to Sirius's.

It was a triumph; there was no question about that. There was one small thing that troubled Sirius, however. "Hey James? Did you think there was anything strange about Remus talking to Pete and I when we were transfigured?"

"No. Why?"

"He just seemed very lonely."

James considered this. "Well, we had just spent an entire day pretending we forgot his birthday. I think I'd be a little lonely too, if we'd done that to me."

"Good point," Sirius agreed, and shook off the nagging feeling that this wasn't quite it. Two years ago Remus had said something about Alphard... Sirius shook his head. James was right.

"I'm kind of sad it's over," James was saying. "I mean, for three years we've worked on this. What are we going to do to top it?"

"Good question. Really good question. But there's all kinds of stuff we can do now, and no one would ever catch us."

"Well, no one would ever catch Peter, that's for sure. How many rats run around Hogwarts? And you might even be able to get away with it, being a dog. But deer generally don't wander the halls, and Remus can't transfigure. And by the way- what was up with that? Prongs? Ugh."

"Hey. It was better than Dasher or Comet or something like that."

James snorted. "Oh well. We'll come up with something."

***

The euphoria had not quite worn off the next morning. They could barely sit still at breakfast, and it was only the arrival of the Owl Post that kept Severus Snape from having a sunny-side-up hat. Regulus's owl (which still rankled, even if Sirius wouldn't admit it) dropped off an envelope for Sirius, and a dark brown owl that looked vaguely familiar dropped off a small package for Remus. Remus swept the package up and retreated, muttering something about a pen friend, and Sirius read the letter from his mother.

There was nothing new or exciting in the letter. It was very much as his mother's letters had been from the beginning- long accounts of what was going on at home on a superficial level.

Sirius wanted to write to her today. He wished he could tell her about their accomplishment, that he'd filled the dreams she once had. He even went so far as to start the letter, until he realized he'd never be able to send it, because eventually his mother would ask why they'd become Animagi, and Sirius would have to tell her it had been for Remus.

He stuffed the unfinished letter in his bag and made his way to Transfiguration.

***

"I wish he'd let us come in for the actual transformation," Sirius complained as they waited near the Whomping Willow. "I'd really like to see it."

"He's awfully adamant about it," Peter sighed. "How much longer, James?"

"Just five minutes."

Peter sighed again. "I'm nervous," he confessed. "I know werewolves don't prey on animals, but... what if we're wrong?"

"We aren't. We've done our research, Peter, and Remus confirmed it," James reassured him. Sirius picked up that touch of impatience, not that he remotely blamed James. He'd lost count of how many times they'd had this conversation over the past three years.

However, he admitted that Peter might have a point. It wasn't like anyone had actually tested the theory that an Animagus was safe from a werewolf, and Peter, being so small when transformed, could easily be inhaled- or simply trampled.

"That's time," James said. "You guys ready?"

"Ready." Sirius's hands were slick with sweat.

Peter nodded, his face pale in the light of the full moon, but he transformed and ducked under the willow, pouncing on the knot and freezing the branches. Sirius and James followed him into the tunnel, and then transformed as well.

They followed the tunnel to the place they'd never yet been. The tunnel was dark and roughly carved, with no stone to line it. As they approached the end they could hear howls and sharp growls: the werewolf.

The door, a heavy, solid affair, was there in front of them. Sirius studied it, and then jumped up, clenching the knob between his front paws. It was an awkward thing to do and it took several attempts, but that was better than a human Sirius taking the chance of opening the door and the wolf being on top of him.

The house was dark inside. It was furnished- Sirius wondered why Dumbledore had done that, given that Remus spent very little time here as a human. A bed he could understand, but the rest seemed ridiculous. Deep gashes sent stuffing spewing from the sofas, and there were long dark marks against the wall. He could smell blood; the scent of it filled his nostrils and made him sick.

Beside him, James jerked, and Sirius turned his head to warily regard the intruder. Peter whimpered and scurried up James's back; the stag turned his head gently nuzzled him, reassuring. Sirius could see why there was no impatience this time.

He didn't know what he thought Remus would look like as a wolf, but this wasn't it. The wolf in front of them was gray, angry, and snarling. The eyes were small and focused, with nothing in them but hunger. Blood dripped from one fang, and matted the fur around the mouth. Sirius had pictured something softer, more pleasant, still retaining Remus's eyes, and was chilled to see the reality.

The wolf regarded them intently, and then limped forward, weight off the front paw. It was a nasty gash; Sirius had only ever once seen just how badly Remus hurt himself in this form. The wolf sniffed the air, and then a shiver passed through him. James cocked his head and studied the wolf, and Sirius understood. This wasn't normal animal behavior, was it? No, he decided, as another shiver spread through the wolf. This was Remus fighting for his sanity.

Somewhere, trapped in that body, was the friend that Sirius would have died for. It was easy to still see that when he looked at James as a stag or Peter as a rat. Their eyes retained their element of humanity, and their actions were decidedly human. Remus as a wolf was entirely different. But as Sirius watched, the eyes changed slowly. There was a glimmer of intelligence... and yes. There was something more... something Remus.

And when the wolf approached them this time, Sirius felt no fear.

***

"Remus!" Sirius sat up with surprise as his friend clambered in the Gryffindor portal. "You're out already?"

"I am," Remus said with a tired smile, coming over to sit with the rest of them. Sirius scooted over on the couch to make room. "Madame Pomfrey was amazed. Only one or two wounds this time. She wanted to know why."

"How did you explain it?"

"I gave her some bilge about growing out of it and made up my first werewolf myth. I told her that being in love makes a werewolf calmer."

Sirius gagged.

"Oh no," Peter said, eyes wide. "Moony's turning into a girl!"

"Oh, stop it. I know it's disgusting and soppy, but Madame Pomfrey is totally soppy and she ate it up like that." Remus dismissed it with a wave of his hand and a spark in his eyes. He'd never smiled like this after a full moon. "The woman is hopeless," he said, but with deep affection. "I've seen all the Muggle romance novels she reads."

James was chuckling. "You had me scared there, for a minute, Moony. Thought you might desert us for some skirt."

Remus's face darkened. "No," he said, with a lightness that Sirius belatedly recognized as forced. "No worries about that."

"Besides," Sirius teased James, "you'd be the one to desert us for a skirt, if Miss Evans ever actually looked your way."

James turned bright red. "Shut up," he muttered.

"Seriously, though," Remus said after a moment of amused awkward silence, "I can't tell you guys how much different this moon was. I... felt like myself, a bit. Less of a wolf."

The silence didn't break, but it was no longer amused or awkward. Looking at the joy on Remus's face, Sirius knew the past three years of hard work had been worth it. And obviously, James and Peter felt the same.

***

"Why are you going home for Christmas, Padfoot?" James asked.

"I can't not go," Sirius sighed, quill still scratching over the parchment as they worked on the Map.

It had been Remus's idea, to map out Hogwarts- the real Hogwarts, and enchant it so you could tell the location of every person just from looking. The latter aspect was a complex charm that Sirius grudgingly admitted both he and James would have difficulty with, but Remus wouldn't. He had the suspicion Remus wanted to render himself indispensable to the project, after not being a part of the last one.

"Why not?" James pushed. "We could all stay here. Or you could come to my place. My parents would have you."

"Because my mother wants me to come home for Christmas this year," was half of Sirius's answer. "And Uncle Alphard wants me to come visit. I need to go home for them."

His mother and his uncle. James wisely held his peace.

***

The Gryffindor common room was loud and alive with students blowing off steam before the holidays. Sirius sat off to one side, unusually quiet. It was easy to be happy and boisterous and eat sweets and shout when you were going home to parents that were normal and a storybook Christmas in a few days, like most of the house would. It was harder when you had no idea what waited for you once the journey on the Hogwarts Express ended.

He wasn't the only one that was quiet, he noticed, as his eyes met Remus's. Remus inclined his head slightly towards the stairs and then left, and Sirius smiled. This suited him perfectly for tonight.

James and Peter were occupied, showing off an elaborate trick involving partial invisibility and Peter's willingness to be the straight man to James' comic antics. Relieved, Sirius slipped out of the room and up the stairs.

He waited a few minutes, as was customary, and then shifted into the big black dog that had sniffed into this room two months ago. It was now becoming a silent ritual that neither he nor Remus spoke of, not even to each other. Conversations about feelings and the like rarely had a place in the fifth year boys' dorm, but when you were a werewolf they were needed, sometimes. But a lifetime of being alone and a healthy dose of testosterone made it difficult for Remus to talk to his friends. There were no hesitations, however, in talking to your dog.

"Now I know why people have pets," Remus said as Sirius jumped up onto his bed and laid his head against his knee, nudging under Remus's arm in an insistence to be petted. "When I leave Hogwarts, I'm getting a dog."

Sirius wagged his tail with enthusiasm for the idea.

Remus settled back, idly stroking Sirius's ears, and Sirius wondered if Remus would even speak tonight. Many times he didn't, and Sirius had spent several hours just laying beside him as his friend read, did homework, and once wrote a letter that he'd confided was very difficult to write. Other times he'd unburdened frustrations and small angers at life in general, from Professor McGonagall to his parents. It served a double purpose. When Remus vented to Sirius when he was in dog form, he had the freedom to talk uninterrupted, and Sirius had the freedom to listen without granting equal confidences. It suited them both.

"I got a letter yesterday," Remus finally said. "From a friend. We've been... well, I guess we've been fighting a little bit. I told him something about myself I don't like, and he keeps trying to tell me it's not the end of the world. He says I can still be happy. But I can't."

Sirius wormed his way a little closer.

"He says he understands, because there's something about him that he hates just as much. But he doesn't! He's okay with it!" Remus's voice was starting to choke, and Sirius was suddenly very grateful he was in dog form and not expected to say anything. "I hate this, Padfoot! I hate it! Can't I be normal, just once?"

His face was buried in the dog's thick black fur, and Sirius felt his heart break. He wished there was something to say, but he knew that was why Remus chose to confide... well, whatever he was confiding... now, while Sirius was in dog form. There was nothing to say.

And eventually, as he expected, Remus pulled himself back together, wiping his face with a trembling hand and dragging his sleeve across his nose. His breathing slowed and Sirius knew the topic was at a close. He whined anxiously, and then licked Remus's face as a form of reassurance. Remus scratched his ears again and sighed.

"You really are a good listener, Padfoot. I feel bad for dumping this, but I haven't talked to anyone about it except this friend, and every time I do he tries to argue with me. I should just be grateful this year, and I really thought I would have been. Except for this... thing... this year has been absolutely amazing. When I can forget about it, I'm happier than I've ever been in my life." Sirius's tail thumped against the bed excitedly.

"I am worried a little, though," Remus admitted as he settled back against the headboard. "Peter's under so much stress at home, and I know this will be a hard Christmas for him. And James mooning over Lily is serious this time. I wonder what will happen if she ever actually liked him. And I'm really worried about Sirius. I don't want him to go home this Christmas. I don't want anything more to happen to him."

It would be breaking all the rules if Sirius transformed now and argued with Remus that he'd be fine. It would be breaking all the rules to talk about it later. And it would be breaking all the rules to lie.

Remus had found a handkerchief and was blowing his nose. The walls were coming back up as a smile crept across his face and he ran a hand through his disheveled hair to straighten it again. In the past two months, Sirius had learned just how well Remus could hide, even when standing out in the open. He envied him that trick.

"Shall we go back downstairs, Padfoot?" Remus asked. "If we're up here too long, Prongs and Wormtail will have single-handedly destroyed the common room."

Sirius gave Remus one final nuzzle, and then jumped off the bed, padding out to the hall and transforming. He knew he'd meet Remus downstairs, where they'd both join in the party as if nothing at all had happened.

***

"If you need to, you can come to our place," James whispered as the Hogwarts Express pulled into London.

Sirius briefly debated arguing with James, but decided it was useless. "I know," he replied. "Thanks."

This time only his mother was waiting for them at the station. Regulus was off the train first, running over to her in a manner Sirius had never copied. She opened her arms wide for him, and from where he stood with James, Sirius could see the unfettered affection. Beside him, James clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Have a good Christmas, mate," he said as they started towards the throng of parents. "And if you need me..."

"I'll be there," Sirius promised.

His mother didn't hug him, not like she'd hugged Regulus. But her smile was warm and bright, and Sirius was pathetically grateful to see it. He kissed her on the cheek, and she smiled and ran light fingers through his hair. "You're becoming quite the gentleman, Sirius," she murmured softly.

"I try," he said simply, although he'd done no such thing. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, boys, and welcome home."

***

Home had never seemed less so this Christmas. But it was different. This time there was no violence and no shouting. His father simply did not acknowledge he existed.

When they all sat down to dinner, it was like Sirius was a ghost, or worse, just a memory. His father didn't make a pretense of ignoring him; he just did it so thoroughly that Sirius himself wasn't sure he was really there.

On Christmas morning, he sat with his family in the drawing room, at his mother's feet. She reached down and ran her fingers through his hair, stroking gently, much like Remus did when Sirius was a dog. It was definitely a side-effect of the Animagus transformation, Sirius decided, that he'd become this tactile. He never had been before.

When Arden was in the room she didn't speak to Sirius. When Regulus was there her attention was focused entirely on him. But her hand never stopped moving through his hair.

***

"I wouldn't want to go to Alphard's house," Regulus informed him as Sirius finished packing.

"Good, because you weren't invited."

"I mean, he's a mangy old man. Why would you ever want to go?"

"He's a cursebreaker for Gringott's. He's much more interesting than you'll ever be."

"He's a freak."

"He is not."

"I heard Father say so."

"Then why is Father letting me go?"

"Because Father's decided you're hopeless," Regulus said with a sniff. "He told me that, too. He thinks that you're not a proper Black and you'll never be a proper Black, and he's giving up. You can drop off the face of the earth for all he cares."

That stung, but there was no way Sirius was showing that to Regulus. "Mother doesn't think that."

"Mother doesn't dare disobey Father. She knows her place."

"Whatever." If it weren't for the fact any trouble would be punished by the prohibition to go to Alphard's place, Sirius would have hexed Regulus. "I'm leaving."

"Good. Don't come back."

"Don't tempt me." Sirius slung his bag over his shoulder. "See you in two days, DT."

"Don't call me that!"

With a wicked grin, Sirius left the room.

***

Traveling by Floo was definitely not Sirius's preferred method. By the time he fell out of the fireplace at his great-uncle's small house, he was quite convinced he'd need to vomit.

"Here," Alphard said, chuckling. "Have some tea to calm your stomach."

"Thanks." A few sips righted the world greatly, and Sirius looked around him with interest.

Alphard's place was quite small, as befitted a bachelor. The furniture was covered with leather, but old leather that you could relax and put your feet up on, not new stuff that made you feel like you had to be formal and proper. The chairs and sofa were battered and worn. Books lined one wall of the room, and a heavy desk sat at the one end. The desk was littered with parchments and old quills, and knick-knacks from around the globe. There was a small kitchen, and three doors: one that lead outside, one that lead to a bedroom, and one that lead to a basement. Sirius wondered which was which.

Alphard was watching him, an eerie, almost predatory look in his eyes. Sirius hadn't been worried about this, but now he was feeling the first stirrings of fear.

"You have a lot of... things... here," Sirius said, picking up an Oriental jade carving as an excuse to break eye contact. "You must have traveled a lot."

Alphard seized on the subject, talking at length and showing Sirius several of the artifacts he'd brought back. There were items from all seven continents, some magical, some Muggle. Both of them were on edge and tense, and Sirius was grateful that his great-uncle had enough artifacts to keep him going for a while.

"Do you feel all right?" he had asked once, mid-sentence.

"A little sick, but not so bad," Alphard had answered, and then gone back to explaining.

The afternoon had stretched on, pregnant with the threat of moonrise.

Alphard would not allow him to be present in the room for the actual transformation, either. "I can understand why Remus doesn't want you to see it, Sirius," he said. "It's enough that you're here with me instead of him tonight. Let's leave that intact for him." Sirius had had no choice but to agree.

He remembered waiting with James and Peter to confront the werewolf for the first time, and how nervous he had been. In the times since, he'd sustained very few injuries: the presence of the three Animagi kept Remus's mind intact, to an extent. But Remus knew them, and knew them well. Alphard might be Sirius's favorite uncle, but they'd never spent much time together. And he wondered how Alphard's werewolf differed from Remus's.

It was black. That was the first thing he discovered when he fumbled his way into Alphard's confinement. Black and smaller than Remus's, and streaked with the grey of age. And more ferocious as well, Sirius realized, when the wolf launched at the dog blocking the door.

Sirius knew to move. Werewolves had no interest in eating animals, only humans. The wolf attacked the dog because the dog stood between the wolf and the human world. But as the dog moved away, the wolf calmed, pawing at the door and then turning back to Sirius. And he saw that same struggle between beast and man that he saw when Remus was transformed, and experienced the same calm.

Despite his intense curiosity to see transformation back from wolf to man, Sirius left the confinement at the appointed time, shifting back into his own form and waiting. The minutes ticked by, and his great uncle still hadn't appeared. Finally, worried for Alphard's safety, Sirius reentered the confinement.

His uncle was hunched over, crying softly.

"Uncle Alphard?" Sirius asked, worried. "Do you need a healer?" No answer. "Alphard?"

"What a gift..." the old man whispered, and Sirius relaxed. Alphard rocked back on his heels, pulling the robe Sirius offered him around his shoulders and wiping his face. "What a gift you boys gave him...." Alphard didn't look up, and he stayed kneeling at Sirius's feet. Sirius wasn't sure what to say.

Finally, Alphard shrugged the robe on and stood up, trembling with exhaustion but composed. His long, bony fingers clenched Sirius's arm. "You have no idea what you have done, Sirius," he said. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Come on, let's get you to bed." He stifled a yawn. "We could both use the sleep."

"All right, all right." Alphard stumbled and Sirius caught him. "Yes, sleep would be a good idea. I'm too old for this." His eyes were still fixed on some inner thought. Sirius put his arm around his great uncle's waist and led him out of the basement.

***

"Well, you look like you survived Christmas," James said as they claimed their compartment.

"Yup," Sirius agreed cheerfully. "My father completely ignored my existence. I returned the favor."

James sighed with relief.

"How was your Christmas, Prongs?"

"Romania, this time. I swear, just once I'd like to stay home and have a tree and stockings and all that. A normal Christmas." James flung himself down in the seat and stared out the window. "But with this Lord Voldemort rising, and things getting worse and worse... Dad's out all the time now. Mum worries."

"Can't say I blame her," Sirius said, settling down next to him. "I've heard things... just whispers, right now, but my uncle Alphard said he thinks it will get worse."

"So does my Dad."

They both stared out the window grimly.

***

The sun would be up soon, frosting the cold snowy campus with an early golden light. The wolf, the dog, the stag, and the rat began making their way back to the Shrieking Shack. It had been a heady, hectic night, and Sirius was smarting a bit from a rather nasty bite he'd sustained when they'd gotten a little too close to Hogsmeade. That hadn't been the best idea. It was still hard to believe that if he hadn't been in the way, and if James hadn't had those antlers, Remus would be terrorizing the village. Literally. It just didn't fit Remus.

Peter was shivering. Sirius yipped to get James's attention, and James stopped and lowered his head so the rat could climb up, which he did gratefully. And then Sirius saw it.

It was a cat, a tabby cat walking stiffly through the snow. Before he knew what was happening or could think about it in the least, Sirius was after it, barking up a storm. The cat yowled and scurried away, and Sirius bounded after it until the cat scrambled up a tree and perched in the branches, hissing down at him. Sirius jumped up, paws against the trunk of the tree, barking until a gentle prod of antlers reminded him that there were other things he should be doing than chasing cats.

Once they had returned Remus to the shack and were safely in their room again, back in human form, Peter and James both dissolved into laughter.

"What?" Sirius demanded. "Look, it's just one of those things! Every now and then I do get flashes of dog behavior. I let my mother rub my ears over Christmas, for crying out loud!"

Peter was still laughing, but James tried to choke it down. "Padfoot, mate," he managed, wiping his eyes. "Remember who else in this castle is an Animagus?"

Sirius thought for a moment and then... "Oh no."

"Oh yes. Didn't you see the markings? You chased Professor McGonagall up a tree."

Sirius wasn't sure how he was ever going to sit through another Transfiguration class again.

***

"We're going where?" Sirius repeated, incredulously.

"Easter dinner at the Potters," his mother said. "They've invited us. Regulus won't be joining us, however. Narcissa and Lucius have invited him to their place."

"But, Father keeps ranting about how Mr. Potter is an idiot for going against Voldemort, and a Mudblood lover, and-"

"Your father is quite aware of all of that, but he is also aware of the connections. Now get dressed, Sirius. We're due over there in fifteen minutes."

Unable to believe his luck, Sirius obeyed.

***

Timothy Potter greeted them as they stepped out of the fireplace, and Sirius inwardly admired how well both Mr. Potter and his own father were faking civility. The mothers made an even better show of it; Sirius wondered if it was just something women did better or if there was genuinely less ill-feeling. Probably a little of both.

"The boys are out front, Sirius," Mr. Potter told him as he lead his parents into the front room. Sirius headed for the front door, hoping it wasn't a hostile environment among the adults that drove the others out into the chilly April weather.

It wasn't, and what it was was far better than Sirius had hoped.

"No way!" he said, stopping dead on the Potter's doorstep. There, in front of him, was a car. A 1968 Mustang, sleek and black, completely Muggle and amazingly cool.

"No way," he repeated, gawking. "James, is it yours?"

"Nope. Moony's," James sighed, running his hand over it.

"Really?" Sirius asked, looking at Remus who was sitting on the hood.

"No, not really," Remus sighed wistfully, unwrapping a piece of Droobles. "Technically, it's Mum's. But you can guess who picked it out." He rolled his eyes affectionately.

"It's got a V8 engine," James said, his eye wide.

"Um, James? The engine is in the hood."

"I'm looking in the hood!"

"No, that's the trunk." Remus snapped his gum. "I'm sitting on the hood."

"Well move your arse," Sirius commanded. "I want to see."

Remus slid off the hood and popped it open. All four boys gathered around, staring at the engine.

"Wow," Sirius breathed.

"Is it a four stroke?" Peter asked.

"Nah, eight," James said in a offhandedly superior manner. "Can't you tell, Wormtail?" He pointed to the cylinders, counting, "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight!"

"What's the compression ratio?"

"At least four to one," Sirius said, not to be outdone by James, and privately determined to get a book on cars at the very next opportunity. "Any fool with eyes can see it's an indirect injection, twelve deciliter, three thousand horsepower- Moony, stop smacking your gum in my ear! Werewolf indeed, you sound more like a cow!"

Remus grinned and slowed his chewing into exaggerated motions, dulling his eyes and opening his mouth wide and sending Peter into gales of laughter. "You're disgusting," Sirius informed Remus, who did indeed look very cow-like.

"Just living up to my nickname."

"What? Obnoxious Prat?"

"Nope."

"Amazing Wanker" James suggested with high good humor.

"And such language on Easter," Peter tutted, shaking his head. "It's Remus. Words of four syllables or more. Insufferable Anklebiter?"

"Nope. MOOOOOOny."

The four of them dissolved into laughter, and the conversation degenerated from there until it was little more than a series of barnyard noises.

"What are you boys doing?" Mrs. Potter was standing on the doorstep. She was answered by her own son's oinking, Remus's moo, Peter's baa, and Sirius's indignant quack. "Never mind," she sighed. "I really don't want to know. Dinner's ready, boys."

"All right, Mum." James took one last look at engine and then slammed the hood shut. "What's for dinner?"

"Lamb," Mrs. Potter said, ushering them in and glaring at Peter when he made alarmed sheep sounds. "No more sound effects, boys. And wash your hands!"

Soon they were seated at a table for thirteen with their parents and Peter's younger sisters, appearing polite as best they could. However, Sirius had the suspicion they were doing far better at it than their parents, even if he'd begun quacking at the dinner table.

"So, what exactly do you do, Marilyn?" Elizabeth Black was asking, her tone clearly expecting her to say Marilyn Lupin lay around all day doing nothing or picked up garbage for a living. Elizabeth had out her best manners, making Mrs. Lupin look uncouth and clumsy.

"I'm a chemistry professor," Marilyn answered in a formal tone, "at a University. It's somewhat like Potions. I was hoping someone," she fixed Remus with a mock-stern eye, "would follow me, but he seems to take after his father." Remus grinned at her and Damien looked affronted.

"I was never that bad a potions!" he protested with a smile. "After all, I was an Auror!"

"Yes, and why is that, Damien?" Arden asked, his voice polite but the words as sharp as jagged glass. "Why are you no longer an Auror?"

"Is it your business?" Damien snapped back.

"There were other career opportunities," Marilyn put in. "Amelia, this lamb is excellent."

"So what do you do with chemistry?" Sirius asked before his father could make any more snide comments at Mr. Lupin. "What kind of stuff are you working on?"

"I'm what's called a polymer chemist," Marilyn said. "I work on making chemicals that can make plastics."

"How do Muggles make plastic?" Sirius asked, interested.

"Sirius, that's not an appropriate question," Arden put in.

"I asked how they make plastic, not how they make babies. That would be an inappropriate question."

"Don't get smart with me, boy."

"It's kind of complicated," Marilyn said, ignoring Arden. "I can explain it to you later if you like, but I'm afraid I'd bore half the table."

"I'm sure," Arden muttered.

Damien slammed his fork down. "Black, if you can't be civil to my wife-"

"Why don't we all just relax," Timothy Potter put in. "It's Easter. Let's just enjoy each others' company."

"I don't enjoy the company of Mudblood lover like him."

"Father!" Sirius interrupted. "Can't you just-"

"Sirius! Be quiet!"

"Then be polite!"

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table. Arden stood up, coming around the table towards his son. "What did you say?"

"Arden, please. Sit down," Timothy implored.

"Be polite," Sirius said, facing his father firmly and ignoring Mr. Potter. "We're here as guests, and you knew the Lupins were going to be here."

"I did not."

"You should have been able to figure it out. We've been friends with Remus since first year."

"And I've been telling you to drop that filthy little Mudblood since first year!"

"Excuse me!" Damien cut in, standing up. "Don't talk about my son that way!"

"That's what he is!"

"He's a halfblood!" Sirius shouted. "So what?"

"Can the three of you please cut it out?" Timothy interrupted.

Arden turned on him. "Don't tell me what I can and can't say, Potter!"

Timothy drew himself up straight. "I will while you're in my house. And while you are in my house, you will respect Damien and his family and lay off your own son. If that is beyond you, you are more than welcome to leave."

"Fine. I wouldn't stay here with this ass and his slut wife-"

"Damien, put your wand AWAY!" Marilyn shouted.

"And his FREAK son if you paid me," Arden continued as if Marilyn hadn't spoken. "Elizabeth, Sirius, we're going." Elizabeth stood and joined her husband. Sirius hesitated, unsure. He looked frantically at James, and James shook his head. The message was clear. Stay.

"Sirius, now." Arden grabbed his son by the wrist and stalked away. It might have been effective- Sirius even followed for a step or two- but as he passed Remus, Arden spit on him.

Damien roared something, but Sirius was closer. He yanked out of his father's grasp and grabbed his wand.

"Expelliarmus!" His mother was quicker, and Sirius's wand flew into the center of the table.

"You little-" a stream of obscenity unlike anything Sirius had heard exploded from his father, and his head snapped around with the force of his father's blow.

"Arden, no!"

Sirius's hear leapt as his mother reached out for his father, and then broke with her next three words.

"Not in public!"

His father's handsome face looked twisted and cruel in his eyes, and he focused on it because he couldn't bear to look at his mother and see her anger, or for her to see his disappointment. He had braced himself for another blow when a strong arm wrapped around his chest and there was a loud crack and darkness, and then he was standing in a quiet room. Damien pushed him to sit on a bed and snapped, "Stay right here, Sirius. I'll be back in an hour." He disapperated, and Sirius was left alone.

Sirius sat on Remus's bed, afraid to move. Gradually fear and shock receded, and he could see again.

He couldn't think. Not right now. He looked around, trying to assess where he was. The Lupins' house, and in Remus's room. Remus's room was smaller than his, James's, or Peter's, or maybe it was only the books that made it seem so. Three of the walls were covered with books; from children's readers to thick paperbacks of Muggle fiction. No Quidditch posters, no broom, no toys, just shelf upon shelf of books.

Books and pictures, Sirius realized. There were a few obligatory pictures of Remus's parents, but everywhere there were pictures from school. Sirius moved over to Remus's desk and examined the corkboard that hung over it. Except for two or three pictures of the prefects, they were all pictures of some combination of Remus, Sirius, James, and Peter. That uncomfortable realization of how lonely Remus's life had been crept in again.

Although, Sirius realized as he returned to the bed and leaned against the wall, perhaps his own life wasn't very different. He didn't like that thought, either, or the thought of what was going on right now at the Potters'.

Next to the bed there was a picture of him and Remus. He picked it up, looking at it sadly. He only vaguely remembered James taking it; it was just another normal day at Hogwarts. He and Remus had been toasting marshmallows over the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. Nothing special, to most people. But to two boys who had never had friends growing up, it was extraordinary, Sirius thought.

"I have some ice for you."

Sirius jumped. Remus was standing in the doorway, advertised ice pack in hand. "Hey. I didn't know you were back."

"Yeah. Dad said to tell you he's coming up in a bit, by the way. He's furious."

"Your father had three moods when it comes to me: furious, suspicious, and pity."

"He's in furious mode right now, although I don't think it's really at you. He and Mum are fighting."

"Over what?"

Remus shrugged. "She thinks he should have just kept his mouth shut and been polite."

Sirius snorted. "Like my parents were being polite?"

"That's what he said."

"It's amazing your father and I don't get along better, given how much we agree."

"It is," a gruff voice said from the doorway. Sirius closed his eyes and knocked his head back against the wall. "Remus, your mother wants you downstairs. She needs help with dinner, seeing how none of us had a chance to eat."

"Yes, sir." Remus shot Sirius one last look and then ducked out of the room.

Damien leaned against the wall, watching Sirius. The gaze was uncomfortable, and eventually Sirius ducked his head and brought the ice pack to his cheek.

"I have this fascination with Muggle engines," Damien finally said. "I've been reconditioning a car. Do you want to come down and see it?"

"All right," Sirius agreed. He slid off the bed and followed Damien downstairs and outside.

The Mustang was parked in the driveway, but Damien led him over to a detached garage and opened the door to reveal a jumble of parts and an old Cadillac. Damien pulled off his robes to reveal Muggle clothes underneath, which Sirius eyed enviously.

"What happened after I left?" he finally asked as Damien settled down to work on the engine.

"Well, your father was still raving when I got back. Amazingly, he hadn't attacked Marilyn."

"Did he..."

"Attack Remus?" Damien finished, arching an eyebrow. "Well, he did, but fortunately it was with a hex and Remus is quick with a shield charm."

"I'm sorry," Sirius said helplessly.

Damien shrugged.

"Why did you bring me back here?"

"I wasn't going to let this," Damien leaned over and touched Sirius's cheek gently, "happen again. It would have been worse when you got home."

"I know it." Sirius picked up a wrench and played with it. "Why didn't you let Mr. Potter deal with it?"

"You're safer here, at least this time. That's all."

"Oh."

Damien returned to work on the engine, fitting together pieces like a giant puzzle. Sirius watched him, the smell of oil and metal stinging his nose as he played with the tools. He thought about his parents, returning to the cold, rich house he'd always called home.

His father had no power to hurt him anymore, he told himself, only to make him angry. He shouldn't have done that to Remus. He squelched down on the voice that indignantly declared a father should be more respectful of his son's friends.

He couldn't think about his mother.

"I haven't spoken to my parents in eleven years," Damien said suddenly.

"Eleven years..." Sirius did the math. "Since Remus was bitten."

Damien nodded. "Since they told us to have him put down." Sirius cringed. "They won't speak to us, we won't speak to them. Remus barely remembers them, and they don't acknowledge him. As far as they are concerned, he died when he was four."

"That's awful," was the best he could think of to say.

"It is. And it's not." Damien put down the engine. "Sometimes, you have to sever ties that should never be broken. And sometimes it's not your fault."

"And this time?"

"This time might be sometime."

Sirius swallowed hard. He was going to have to think about that.

***

He stayed the night at the Lupins', on a camp bed in Remus's room. At least, that was the theory. But late at night, after Damien and Marilyn had retired for the night, he transformed into the black dog and curled up at the foot of Remus's bed. And Remus, who understood silence better than anyone else, just stroked the silky ears and didn't say a word.

***

Two weeks later he was in his regular seat in front of Professor McGonagall's desk, trying not to remember that he'd chased this woman up a tree.

"I thought," Professor McGonagall said, looking at him over her spectacles, "that we agreed I would not see you in here again, Mr. Black."

"I didn't agree. You just said that and took my silence for consent."

She sighed, rubbing her temples. "Sirius, you are an intelligent young man with a bright future. Why do you insist on wasting it?"

"I just-"

"You just sent Mr. Snape to the hospital ward with tentacles!"

Sirius shrugged and slumped further down in his seat, arms crossed over his chest. "He started it," he muttered.

"I don't care who started it, you're both too old for this sort of behavior! Don't you ever think?"

That's all he ever did, was think. Although that probably wasn't what McGonagall meant.

She tapped her quill against the parchment on her desk. "Sirius, you've been in trouble from almost your first day here, to one degree or another."

"I was in trouble my first day," Sirius pointed out. "I called Remus a Mudblood after the Sorting."

"And he still speaks to you," she said dryly. "Anyway, my point was I'm used to you being dragged in here. If a day goes by without you in detention, I worry, because it means we didn't catch you and Mr. Potter at whatever fool thing the two of you are doing. But lately, it is ceasing to be funny. The nature of your jokes is becoming more malicious and taking an unacceptable turn."

Sirius shrugged again.

"I've had a few owls about you."

"My parents?"

"Oddly, no. Mr. Potter and Mr. Lupin."

Sirius sat bolt upright. "Again? Can't he just stay out of it?"

McGonagall looked at him over the edge of her glasses. "Excuse me?"

"Can't Damien Lupin mind his own business? Just for once? He doesn't like me, but he still feels justified in coming in and making a mess out of everything!"

"What has he made a mess out of?"

"EVERYTHING! Every time I see him he makes an issue out of it and can't let it go and he screws everything up! I hate him! He treats me like shit and doesn't trust me and then he turns around and thinks he can mess with my life! He doesn't get that it's not black and white, it's not that easy! They're my family!"

McGonagall sat still under the tirade. Sirius didn't notice; he had risen so he was standing and pacing the small office.

"He tells me to sever ties and to walk off, to run away. But I can't run away from them! I love them! Yes, my father is a complete wanker and yeah things aren't good at home and yes my mother never stands up for me and my brother is a total prat, but that does not give him the right to tell me to tell them to all shove off! I DON'T WANT TO!"

"Then don't," Professor McGonagall said calmly as Sirius panted for breath. "Damien Lupin is an adult, Sirius, but that doesn't mean he's always right."

"He's never right. Not about me."

"Well, the only one who can decide such matters is you."

"Right." He was pulling himself back together, refusing to meet her eye. He sat back down, and a long silence descended over the pair of them.

"Is there anything else you wish to say, Sirius?" McGonagall asked.

"No, ma'am."

"All right then. Detention for the prank- you know where and when- and I will see you in class tomorrow."

"Yes ma'am." He picked up his bag and threw it over his shoulder, heading for the door.

"And Sirius?"

"Yes?"

"My door is open to you any time."

He gave her a withering look and left.

***

Minerva fingered the letters she'd had from Damien Lupin and Timothy Potter. Things were indeed bad at the Black household, in more respects than one. From the accounts she'd had from Lupin over the past few years and her sister at the Ministry, she rather suspected Arden Black was slowly losing his grip on sanity, and Sirius was taking the brunt of it.

She folded the letters and slipped them in her drawer, and hoped that Sirius would take Damien Lupin's advice and get out while he could, before the darkness engulfed him as well.