In the Midst of the Night

In the Midst of the Night

Chapter 8 - Break the Silence

Previously:

He spat the paper out of his mouth and transformed until he was sitting huddled in a dark alley. After the hundredth glance at the tiny little boy with messy hair in the picture, he stood up and looked down at the drunken man a few steps away. He checked the drunk's pockets, happy to find a wallet, a pocket knife, and mercifully, a wand. Sirius Black flicked the pocket knife open and thanked Merlin that it was sharp.

The drunk's eyes fluttered open and he looked up at Sirius incomprehensively. "Marina?" he slurred with curiosity. "Thought you were long gone..."

The fugitive patted his head awkwardly. "Yes, well, go back to sleep - er..." but he was saved saying more when the drunken man's eyes rolled backwards and he fell into a deep slumber once more. Sirius shook his head, put the wallet and knife into his robe pocket, and then transformed back into his animagus form. He trotted into a tavern nearby and weaved his way past the night owls to the men's restroom. Once there, he shut the door and added protection spells and locks to the door.

First, he looked at himself in the mirror and found himself turning away at once. He closed his eyes, then drew his courage together and glanced back at it. Filled with renewed resolve, he began to hack away at the greasy strands of ebony black hair. When he was finished, the sink was filled with what looked like jet black ink. Sirius gathered the hair together and flushed it down the toilet. His gaze landed back onto the mirror and he caught himself staring at a cleaner - sure, not a lot cleaner, but cleaner nonetheless - man. His eyes were still sunken and dulled. They had lost the spark of life and flame of happiness.

He next washed his hair under the tap and transfigured his robes to look more like they were in one piece. As a result, he looked more normal and less...well, less like the fugitive he was. Hoping that he wouldn't be recognized, he undid all the wards and charms before stepping out.

It had been seven years since he had interacted with people - sane people that is - and he wasn't sure that he remembered how to do it. All that he had seen in that lonesome and god-forsaken cell in Azkaban were the terrifying figures of the dementors and the ash gray walls. Barely any light filtered inwards except from the tiny hole above that kept him connected to the living, breathing, ordinary world outside. He sometimes believed that just that tiny connection to humanity kept him rather sane - along with the need for forgiveness...and revenge.

He sank down in a secluded corner of the tavern and when a waitress came over, she looked at him appreciatively. Sirius didn't notice for he was looking in his stolen wallet. "What would you like, honey?" cooed the woman with a seductive smile.

He glanced upwards and, had he been a lesser man, would have grimaced at the sight of her. "Just a mug of butterbeer, please," he said politely, then turned to look through his robes as if searching for something. The waitress looked at him in silence for a moment and Sirius, as if he noticed the pause, looked up in askance. She sighed then walked away to bring his order.

It wasn't long before his butterbeer was placed harshly upon the tabletop and the waitress stalked away once again with her chin held high in an indignant sort of stance. Sirius watched after her with a bewildered expression before taking a sip of the soothing liquid. Just the taste brought back memories that sent strange prickling sensations behind his eyes. He shook his head as if to dispel the recollections of when he was younger and sighed.

His gaze wandered around the tavern and he noticed a familiar figure motioning towards a waitress. Sirius caught sight of hazel colored eyes that brought back more of the memories he would rather have forgotten. Quickly, he looked away. After a moment, he looked back once more at the man he suspected was Remus Lupin.

Oh, thought Sirius with a sigh, that can't be Moony. That man is drunk. It was then that Sirius did a double take. Bloody hell! He squinted and recognized the man. Sirius knew without a doubt that the bloody drunk man was his old friend Remus Lupin! But he never drinks alcohol! Not one drop! - Well, except that time Prongs and I tried to make him feel better with loads of butterbeer but...Merlin...what happened?

Sirius didn't know how long he just sat there and stared at his friend across the room. A moment later, Remus began tearing a piece of paper into shreds. Oh, thought the fugitive, catching a glance at the picture being so furiously ripped to pieces. That's what happened. The werewolf buried his head into his arms and Sirius felt a pang in his chest as he saw the other man's shoulders rack harshly with sobs. With a sigh, he turned away and looked at his still half full mug of butterbeer. He took a slow sip of it and marveled at how long the drink could stay warm. Yum...

...

Presently:

"Yum," said Sirius as he finished the last drop of his still warm butterbeer. A movement in his peripheral vision caught his eye and he glanced upwards. Remus Lupin stood up and swaggered slightly towards the exit. He watched after him with something akin to remorse. After a few seconds, Sirius followed in suit after setting down some money for his drink.

Perhaps it was time to drop a hello.

~*~

"Here we are," said Severus without preamble as the stopped before a doorway. Harry looked around before focusing on the mahogany door on which many sprigs of ivy were intricately carved. He turned the handle and let it swing open so that the child could step inside.

Harry gulped and took a cautious step forwards. When he stood in the doorway, he took a glance back at Severus as if to make sure he was still there, and then walked all the way inside. The room was elegant and cozy all at once. Since it was mid-July, the fireplace was empty, but the last light of the evening filtered in soothingly. A half smile appeared upon his face as he turned to look at the professor. The colors were a mixture of different blues and crèmes and Harry shivered in delight. He had never had a room of his own before, and this one beat all that he'd ever even imagined.

It was HUGE for a start, and it had an enormous bed! Harry jogged to jump on it, and even then had to struggle to plop himself all the way upon it. It was up high but the ceiling was even higher. When Harry looked up, he was relieved to see that no waving cherubs were painted on it. It merely matched the intricate design of the mahogany door. He bounced a bit to test the quality of the bed and when no springs protested but bounced back up with zeal, he giggled with appreciation.

"I suppose you like your room then, Potter?" drawled Snape from the doorway. He leaned casually against it like he did it for a living and a lazy expression played on his face.

Harry nodded and slipped carefully off the bed. All of a sudden, his rucksack soared in with a flick of Severus' wand and a spell and landed near the wardrobe which swung open of its own accord. Harry stood rooted to his spot and stared transfixed at the inanimate objects that were now...well, animate. The clothing within his bag rushed out and began straightening themselves as well as going into the open wardrobe. After a moment, Harry seemed to spring to life in a flurry of cries and he rushed behind Severus' robes.

The man pursed his lips and eyed the child, then the charmed objects. They stopped moving with another flick of his wand and a murmured word. "So you're afraid of magic," said the potions master with the languorous pace of someone deep in thought. Harry merely took fistfuls of the black material that was Severus' cloak into tiny clutched hands as he hid his eyes away. "Well, are you going to answer me?"

The child paused with a tensing of the shoulders before looking up warily. "Yes?" he answered in an apprehensive voice. The way the man had phrased the question had brought back the memory of Mr. McKinnon. The right answer to such a question meant solely a missed meal where as a wrong answer would send the victim to the chastise room. Harry shivered slightly, still clutching at Severus' robes.

"Is that your final answer?" wondered the professor with humor laced in his words.

"Yes," replied Harry with more conviction than he felt and he even stomped his foot inadvertently.

Severus' eyes were glittering with amusement as he looked down at the child. He then proceeded to pull his cloak from Harry's tight grasp before stalking down the hall. When he got half way however, he turned to look back saying, "Aren't you coming?" and Harry rushed to catch up. They strolled together through the halls of the manor and with the sunlight filtering in with slightly less fervor than it had before, the boy felt more at ease. This humongous place wasn't really all that bad...it was quite homey. "Magic is nothing you need to be afraid of, Potter. You've been doing it since you were a child, even."

Harry looked up in incredulity. "No I haven't!" exclaimed the boy with fright creeping into his words.

"Indeed, you have," said Severus in a tone which brought no further objections. "Would you believe it if I told you that you defeated the most powerful dark wizard in Europe when you were but one year of age?"

The boy frowned, then said, "Of course not!"

And Severus muttered, "Neither would I hadn't I knew it was so."

But Harry wasn't done. "I never do - do 'magic'! I don't!" The last 'don't' was emphasized with another boyish stomp of his foot upon the wooden floors. The shutters on the windows fluttered up and down before seeming to regain their composure. Harry pulled Severus' hand into his own at the odd display and moved closer to the elder man.

It seemed like a habit now - one that he couldn't seem to break. Having been the person to take him away from the dreaded orphanage, Severus (however callous he seemed to be) had settled in a place within Harry's heart that the boy never thought even existed. Now, the impulse to find comfort from the ominous man was overwhelming at every frightening occasion.

"That is magic," Severus told the child lightly. Don't want to make him run away again, he thought frostily, but that fiber (well, not a fiber anymore really...more like a quilt now...) told him that he didn't mean it in the way implied.

Harry grasped his hand forcefully as if only that would make his fear fade away. "No! No it's not! I never did 'magic' before!" The hated word slipped past his lips and somehow warmed his tongue. He made a face and shook his head heatedly. "I - I would never -," but Severus stopped him with a squeeze of his hand.

"Nonsense. I honestly don't know why you're afraid of magic," Severus said, but in fact, he had a vague idea. "Care to tell me why?"

Harry told him in melancholy, "Because the scary man and makes that awful green -," but he cut himself off by putting his hand to his mouth with a snap. His eyes were wide and unfathomable with swirling shades of deep green as he stared at Severus in horror. Why oh why was he forever condemning himself in this way? Now the professor wouldn't want to keep anymore! No one ever wanted to hear such gruesome tales that Harry saw unfold in his dreams! He tried pulling his hand from the professor's grip and stumbled away when he got free.

But Severus was quicker than he looked.

His long legs needed to stretch only a bit for him to grab hold around the boy's waist. He hauled him into the air and looked at the terror written across the child's face. "Now why were you trying to run away?" He paused. "If I put you down, do you promise not to run?"

Harry stared at him for a moment longer before nodding slowly. "O-Only if - if you promise not to - to...hit me," he said as his voice got softer with each word.

Severus frowned but decided not to comment. The boy was already fragile at the moment and a wrong move or word would shatter him into pieces. He regained his expressionless façade and said gravely, "I promise." Harry gulped and nodded again. Severus put him onto the ground, marveling at how a growing boy could be so frighteningly light. "Now, what is this about the scary man?"

The boy seemed to shrink within himself and he took a few steps back. "He - he's in my dreams and he waves his wooden stick and he also says scary words. Then his eyes get ugly and glowy and then there's lots of green lights! The scared - the scared people scream sometimes and then they stop moving when the light - when it hurts them and they don't do anything anymore! I think they died! It's so awful!" he cried, suddenly passionate. Tears that had formed as he began to speak spilled down his cheeks in blistering hot drops, but he didn't pay them any heed. Now that someone wanted to listen, the words were pouring forth from seemingly no where and even if he tried, he wouldn't be able to stop. "Then sometimes him and his friends - they hurt kids too! They hurt everybody and they - they start laughing even though the scared people are getting hurt and they're screaming! They just laugh and laugh and I try not to watch - I really try because it's so awful! But I can't stop! I try closing my eyes but I can't - even though my head hurts so bad! And - and," but even though the words were gushing forth through their dam, the sobs racking his body won in the end and cut off his words as he hiccupped and gulped in mouthfuls of air like a drowning man swallowing water.

Harry covered his face in his hands and as the rate of the sobs increased, he began to hyperventilate. Severus, highly alarmed, walked briskly forward and patted the boy's shoulder awkwardly. "There, there," he tried to say, but the child's blubbers were loud and heart-wrenching and positively miserable and depressing. Anyone who heard it would probably collapse into sobs themselves, and Severus might have as well, if he were a man of a lesser degree. Instead, he stood there uncomfortably patting the boy's shoulder and saying, "There, there" even though his words were inaudible. He cleared his throat and looked around, hoping Baruch might be nearby, but there was no sign of the elf anywhere.

Severus cleared his throat and said, "It's all right now, calm down. Deep breaths," in a louder tone so as to be heard. Harry ran forward and hugged Severus around the waist even though his arms didn't circle all the way around. The man rubbed his back in an attempt to soothe the child, and he slightly succeeded - if it was even he who made the child's sobbing and hiccupping slow or whether it was the lack of oxygen being inhaled instead.

It was a while later when Harry's crying ceased completely, but there were a few hiccups here and there. The child pulled his arms away slowly and rubbed his eyes, exhausted from weeping so much. "Sorry," he whispered when he peeked up at Severus a moment later.

The elder man had a sharp comment at the ready at such a dim-witted statement, but seeing as Harry had just ceased his prolonged scene of sobbing so dreadfully, Severus didn't feel he was up to another. He was done in just at watching the boy cry so intensely. "You have nothing to be sorry for," he said instead in a featherlike tone in a half-hearted attempt to make light of the situation. It felt like he had consumed all the sugar in the world and had the awful aftertaste. Harry just sniffed piteously and wiped a sleeve across his eyes to brush away his still wet face. Severus awkwardly patted the boy's head, and then suggested that they reside in a more convenient place. The child just nodded as if he wasn't listening and followed the professor down the hall.

As they walked side by side, he wondered how a child could so cry so much. - And then he asked the heavens how all those bloody sobs came from the tiny boy padding along beside him.

Severus wondered what exactly Albus had handed over to him - a pathetic child or a monster?

~*~

Draco sat at the middle of the ridiculously long table while his mother sat at one end. His father's position at the head of the table sat vacant for he was still at a Ministry meeting. The silver blonde headed child sighed and idly drummed his fingers on the tabletop. After a few moments, he sighed again, this time a bit louder.

"Enough, Draco. Big boys don't sigh in that way," said Narcissa Malfoy in her primmest voice.

He looked at her with an innocent expression before scowling darkly at his plate as if it were the source of all his troubles. What he wanted was the P'fessor to walk through the fire place and give Draco his present. What was taking the man so long? He had said he'd visit soon! - Ah well, it had only been a day or two anyway. Draco was a big boy - a man even - and he could out wait anyone.

Dishes upon dishes of foods appeared on the table and Draco, wishing to show off to his mother, patiently used the serving spoons rather than his hands. He peeked over at her, but she didn't seem to notice. The child pouted and resisted the urge to sigh loudly.

Just then, there was a slight gust of wind and Draco dropped the serving spoon to jump out of his seat. His father strolled into the room and was confronted with a child flying at him. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips as his son wrapped his small arms around his waist. "Hello, Draco," he greeted.

The boy glanced up and smiled. "I didn't think it would take this long for you to come home. You almost missed dinner! And you said that after dinner you would take me to Diagon Alley to get a real snitch!" exclaimed Draco with a hopeful undertone.

Lucius raised a perfect blonde brow as he looked down upon his son. "I never said such a thing," he replied in a rather icy tone.

Draco blushed and dropped his gaze as he scuffed a foot across the large painted carpet on the floor. "Oh...I - I thought you did..."

"Clever of you, Draco, but you cannot outthink me," Lucius told him in a taunting tone.

The child looked up with a shadow of a smile, hesitant yet hopeful once more. "Does that mean that you -," but his father cut him off.

"No." Then the elder man strode past him to the table. Once seated, he looked expectantly at his son who still stood in the same place. Resignedly, Draco walked indolently back to his seat.

Ah well, it wasn't too much to hope for... he thought to himself. He sighed absently and ignored the stern look shot towards him by his mother. "Eat your food, Draco," she said and he shot a glare at her. Her expression contorted crossly and he was immediately cowed. The boy picked up his fork and dug in, stuffing a large piece of something or other into his mouth. Narcissa sniffed and turned away and Draco felt a momentary sense of satisfaction.

After lunch, Lucius and Narcissa walked out together, talking in undertones and Draco was left seated at the table with a scowl. He stared at his still full plate with a thoroughly aggravated expression before slowly standing up. A house elf appeared beside him and Draco recognized her as Ollie. "Sir is not s'posed to leave afore finishing sir's food, sir," said Ollie in the squeaky voice reticent to female house elves.

The child glowered at her in irritation. "Well I'm finished so leave me alone," he carped loftily. He proceeded to turn away and walk out of the room and Ollie followed desperately.

"Sir is s'posed to finish sir's food first!" she protested, and Draco stopped to glare his coldest glare at her. She looked up at him with wide eyes that began to water and his scowl intensified ten fold when his stomach growled all of a sudden. When Ollie's eyes narrowed with humor, he rolled his own milky gray eyes heavenwards. Then she laughed and he shook his head as he looked down at her like a stern parent would a child.

He said, "Fine, but only because I'm hungry," and marched back to his seat, eating ravenously.

~*~

The duo stepped out onto the terrace on the second floor in the back of the house. It was littered with tropical looking plants and many more of the strange ethereal creatures that seemed to glow with their own internal lights. A bright cheerful pink one darted to Severus' shoulder and landed, the glow fading slightly.

It was then that Harry realized it was a tiny little person with wings! He gaped in awe as the tiny woman whispered conspiratorially in Severus' ear as her strangely bright blue eyes stared intently at Harry. He blushed and avoided her gaze and busied himself with settling onto one of the cushioned chairs. The child looked up a short moment later to find that the little pink woman with the bright blue eyes had flown away and Severus was looking at him pensively. He rubbed his nose and turned his gaze away once more to look at the vast scenery in the backyard of Snape Manor.

"The 'scary man' in your dreams, as you described, has a name, Potter," said Severus a moment later.

Harry's eyes shot towards the elder man and he looked at him with wide eyes, his butterflies dancing recklessly. "He's real?" asked the boy with terror seeping into his words.

"Indeed. He called himself Lord Voldemort, or the Dark Lord, but people feared him to such an extent that they could not even stand to say his name. Most wizards and witches spoke of him using the words He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and You-Know-Who." He looked up at the sky which was slowly turning darker as evening approached. "Voldemort was the most powerful dark wizard in all of Europe and was almost took over England...that is, until he was defeated."

"Who - who did that?" wondered Harry meekly.

"You did, Potter," said Severus, turning his gaze back onto the boy. The child was ridiculously small and his eyes incredibly big, but the truth was undeniable. "He came to your home with the intent to kill you and your father. After a duel, your father departed this life and your mother begged Voldemort to spare your life. He killed her in an attempt to take your life. As a child one year of age, you defeated the Dark Lord when the most unforgivable curse of all the three Unforgivables rebounded from you and back to him - it was the Killing Curse. That scar upon your forehead is the result."

"Avada Kedavra," whispered the child in a tear filled voice. Harry traced the familiar scar with awe. He had always thought that it had come from the visits to the chastise room when he was younger. It was hard to remember all the bad things he had done and consequently, all the times he had thusly been sent to the dreaded room. He quickly brushed away the forming tears. "But how? I - I don't understand," said the child.

"With magic of course!" exclaimed Severus. "You are either born a wizard or not, Potter - and you are a wizard if I ever knew one. You're famous in our world - the wizarding one that is. Everyone knows you because you defeated the most evil man that anyone had ever encountered for a long time. He was on a steady rise to take over England and then Europe, but he was conquered by you and you were but a child."

Harry shook his head. "I don't believe it," he said stubbornly. "That's impossible! How could a baby stop the scary man?"

"That has never been revealed, but everyone knows it's the truth," Severus told him in that tone of his that brought no further objection.

The boy said nothing for a long moment and the silence stretched contemplatively on. "Why did he want to kill me? And - and my father?"

"That was never disclosed to me - only that the Potters must be killed," replied the professor in a soft tone.

Harry looked down at the hands clutched together so tightly in his lap. After a moment, he looked up once again, but this time his eyes were welled with yet more sorrowful tears. He slipped off his seat and rushed to Severus who sighed, expelling what seemed like a heavy burden upon his shoulders. The man found the child once again burrowing deep within his soft summer robes and crying wretchedly. Severus put a hand onto the boy's back and rubbed it in yet another half-hearted attempt to soothe him.

He had to hear it some time, thought the potions master gruffly. But even this thought didn't drive away the ache in his heart that undoubtedly came from that dreaded quilt of compassion that had been stitch so craftily inside him.

~*~

Sirius barely registered that he had accidentally fallen asleep on Remus' coach in the living room when the man himself walked sluggishly down the steps, stumbling all the while. The werewolf's eyes were puffy and dreary as he looked at the huge black dog sitting motionless on his couch. He rubbed his eyes and yawned before stopping his trek down the staircase to turn back around.

I must still be dreaming and therefore must go back to bed, the man thought as he retreated back to his room. Remus was out like a light as soon as his body touched the covers.

Downstairs, the fugitive was sitting still in his Animagus form, staring unblinkingly at the place where his eyes had locked on the familiar hazel ones of his former friend. He must have been drunk indeed, Sirius reflected. He transformed and shook his head with a very dog-like grin. Even though his heart was beating as fast as a scared rabbit's, he thought the situation funny and settled down on the coach again. Hopefully, Remus wasn't a drunk all the time and would take a while to get over his hangover...

Because right now, Sirius Black needed his rest.

...

"..."

Sirius just scowled at him. "You call yourself his friend?! After all he's done for you! He helps you with all your classes when I'm too lazy -"

James smirked at Peter, ":cough: - all the time! - :cough:"

" - and he even sticks up for you! Now you won't even undergo a simple -,"

":cough: - hard - :cough:"

" - transformation that could help him! It's only the Animagus -"

"Only?!" exclaimed James and Sirius rounded on him, breathing heavily.

"All right, Prongs, I've tried to ignore you but -," but he was once again interrupted.

"Fine, fine! I'm sorry!" said James, raising his hands defensively.

Sirius glared but turned back to Peter. "As I was saying - it's only the Animagus potion and James and Remus are smarter than anyone ought to be. Nothing will go wrong," and here he shot a warning look at James before going on, "so I don't understand why -," but now it was Peter's turn to interrupt.

His tone was irritatingly patient as he spoke to Sirius like a child. "I never said I'd do it...you just didn't let me finish. I said that I was afraid, but I'd do it anyway," Peter told him earnestly.

The other boy blinked at him and said, "Oh."

James laughed and cuffed his shoulder with a playful punch. "No need to get so emotional, Sirius," he said brightly as he rubbed his hands together. "Now everyone, ante up - hand over your hairs for safe keeping." He pulled his own crème white one out and placed it into one of three awaiting test tubes.

"What's yours?" questioned Peter with a frown.

"Stag," replied James with a smug look. Peter handed his own to him and the boy looked at it quizzically. "Isn't this a bit small?"

The boy smiled. "Yes - I thought that we could touch the knot on the Whomping Willow like Remus did easier if one of us was small. It's a mouse's hair," he told the other two Marauders.

"Good thinking, Pete!" said Sirius, half in apology. Peter just grinned and shrugged. "As for mine, I took our beloved Divination's prediction to heart. Remember when Professor Descry kept seeing an odd number of grims in my tea cups?" The other boys nodded and he grinned. "Well, I figured - well, why not?" He laughed saying, "So I went to a cemetery and got a grim hair!" Peter looked horrified while James began cracking up. "Anyway, how will Remus resist when we tell him what we're going to do?"

James shook his head. "I don't know, you're aware just as well as I am how conservative he is."

Peter sighed. "But he'd do anything you guys told him. I doubt you would just not do it if he asked you not to," he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Sirius looked offended. "What, and refuse to comply with a fellow Marauder's wishes? I think not!"

James ruffled his hair with a laugh. "Oh barmy," said the boy with a large grin. "You can't say that you wouldn't do it anyway!"

The other boy looked as if he were thinking for a moment before saying brightly, "Nope, I probably wouldn't!"...but his smile was a little dimmer than it usually was.

Ø a year later

"I can't believe it," breathed Remus as he looked at the three animals in the places where his friends were only moments before. "I can't believe it!" he repeated once more, running a hand through his light brown hair. They transformed back with three 'pop's and all grinned goofily at their best friend.

"Amazing, eh?" boasted Sirius and he looked as if his smile could barely be contained.

"Beautiful, aren't we?" said James, trying to act nonchalant, but failing miserably.

"What'd you think?" anxiously wondered Peter, looking beseechingly at Remus.

The other boy just blinked as the silence stretched on. "Sirius...are you a grim?"

...

Sirius was abruptly awoken when he heard the words, "Move and I swear I'll use an Unforgivable you." The fugitive blinked his eyes open and met those of a very angry Remus Lupin. Sirius saw his old friend swallow forcefully and concentrate on holding his wand straight. The hand holding said wand was trembling horribly and Remus had an effort at looking at the man he had once called a friend.

"Remus -," Sirius began, but the other man shook his head vehemently.

"No! Don't say anything! I don't want to hear any of your lies!" he shouted, and prickling tears came unbidden to his eyes.

Desperately, Sirius tried once more. "Remus, just let me explain! I -"

"Stop it!" yelled Remus, sounding almost as despairing as the other man. He took deep breaths and looked around. When he had woken Sirius, he hadn't really thought about what he would do after his wand was pointed at him. Thousands of thoughts were racing through his mind at once and he couldn't sort through them all. He was trembling horribly and still awfully weak and dizzy from his hangover. Of course, it would have been more intelligent to take a sobering potion, but Remus had seen Sirius on his coach and recklessly faced him, despite the consequences. Now, he was standing there like an idiot, not knowing quite what he should do and he wasn't even able to think rationally about what was going on. He was torn in two directions. This man had made his youth life bearable and enjoyable - something that he would remember with a light heart...but then, this was the same man who had dashed the rest of Remus' life into the never ending abyss of darkness forever more as well. What was he to do?

Sirius saw the panic flashing through Remus' eyes and felt something in his chest wrench painfully. The fear in the other man's eyes was heart-breaking and the desolation in them as well tore cruelly at the fugitive's heart. He hated the expression of betrayal written all over the smaller man's face as he looked at Sirius.

"You - you just stay right there," said Remus, breathing raggedly. He pursed his lips together and kept his wand pointed rather unsteadily at the formidable murderer of thirteen people. The man gulped once more and wondered what exactly to do with the escapee from Azkaban. At the moment, Sirius was in a half lying down half sitting position as a hung over man held him at wand point and had the scene been less grave, it would have been rather comical.

Remus would have moved to the fireplace to contact the ministry, but he feared that the other man would pull something on him. Sirius Black had always been a fearsome opponent and at the moment, the werewolf didn't want to be on the receiving end of the former Marauder's antics.

They stayed in that position for a long time - in that dreadful stalemate - until one of them would, at last, break the silence.