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Small note! The whole of this story is written except the rest of years 3 and 4, which are sad little drafts, and I've decided, after giving it long thought, to offer up a mea culpa and begin posting year 5, and come back to year 3 and 4 when my job isn't actively trying to make me miserable, which it is and has been for weeks.

Title: These Four Kings (Year Five 1/8)
Author: Dani ([livejournal.com profile] escribo)

Word Count:
 7570
Rating: PG

(Pairings: in the future will be Remus/Sirius, Lily/James)

Timeline: September 1, 1975
warning: mentions of child abuse and violence 

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. I've not made nor seek any profit.

Year 1: one/ two/ three/ four/ five/ six/ seven
Year 2: one/ two/ three/ four
Year 3: one/ two/three/four
Year 4 (coming in the future when work quits eating my brains! Sorry for the out-of-order-ness)



"Station full of Muggles, of course." Orion Black swept ahead of his sons, his black cloak swirling elegantly about his legs as he strode towards the platform. Regulus walked ahead of Sirius, attempting to keep out of striking distance of his brother's temper, and Sirius sneered at him. He didn't dare pull his wand in front of his father, though he thought of nothing but ways to hex the little snitch once they were back at Hogwarts. It was Regulus' fault that they were running late, though Sirius had taken the blame. They'd been nearly out the door when Regulus had pointed out to their mother what Sirius was wearing--flared jeans, a t shirt featuring a Muggle band, and a black leather jacket that he'd picked up in a market. His father had been willing to overlook it just to be rid of them both, but then the tremendous row had followed.

It'd become about more than just his clothes. His friends, his House, his very existence seemed to irritate his mother and her voice still echoed in his ears, blood traitor, shame of my womb, a stain upon the name of my father. Sirius licked his lip, feeling where it had split and swollen when his mother had slapped him when he'd shouted back. Had I known what you would become, I would have choked the life from you before you drew your first breath. It'd been madness, and Sirius thought that he would never admit to anyone how badly her words hurt him, and worse, how his father's silence had stung.

Sirius shoved his hands deep into his pockets, his new school uniform stiff and uncomfortable after a summer out of starched shirts and pressed trousers. His Gryffindor tie had been almost as offensive as his Muggle clothing, and he'd taken whatever perverse joy he could muster in fingering the knot as his mother inspected him one final time. His father had refused to look at him since they'd left the house and walked steadily on now, Regulus, the little prince, in his wake. So focused was Sirius on their backs, on keeping exactly ten paces behind so as not to appear to belong with them at all, that he'd nearly missed a sight that stopped him completely.

It was the first time Sirius had ever seen the man he supposed must be Remus' dad. They were half-hidden in an alcove, Mr. Lupin's hand on Remus' neck. Remus had grown taller and thinner during the summer, and though he smiled, it never quite made it to his eyes. They were both dressed quite shabbily, Remus in patched brown corduroys, a faded t shirt that Sirius remembered Remus having owned since at least third year, and a patched cardigan that made him look older than fifteen. Mr. Lupin looked very tired, his hair near completely gray, though Sirius didn't think the man could be that much older than his own father. His brown trousers were also patched at the knees, his white button down shirt at the elbows. At his neck was a Gryffindor tie that Sirius knew Remus had saved everything he had in the fall of their fourth year to buy for his dad for Christmas, forgoing sweets and conserving quills and parchment to have enough. Something in Sirius' chest constricted a bit seeing it, at watching Mr. Lupin pull Remus in for a tight hug and a kiss to his forehead, at Remus hugging him back.

Sirius looked up at his own father, watched him disappear onto Platform 9 3/4, Regulus still following, and stopped in his tracks. The crowds around him--Muggle and Wizard families alike--flowed past him as he turned to watch Remus with his father for another moment before they pulled away and Sirius called Lupin above the noise of the station. Remus turned his head, his features guarded until he spotted Sirius, and then he gave a very different smile than the one Sirius had just seen, one that was very real and lit up his eyes. Sirius jogged across the station, coming up behind Remus to wrap his arms around Remus' shoulders, pulling him back against Sirius' chest in an awkward if joyous half hug.

"Dad, this is Sirius Black," Remus said. "I told you about him."

"Ah, yes. Hello, Sirius. You're one of my favorite characters in Remus' stories."

Sirius could feel Mr. Lupin take in his clothes, his hair, but he didn't feel judged for it, didn't feel laid bare. Instead, he took the hand that Mr. Lupin offered, noticing the four long, thin, familiar scars on the back of Mr. Lupin's hand. They were faded now to almost nothing and disappeared beneath the cuff of his shirt. Sirius didn't let go of Remus, just let his arm rest easily around his shoulders. He knew those same scars covered his friend's body and wondered when and how if not why, questions he had never asked before.

"You've been a good friend, I think. Improved his chess game. I had a hard time beating him at all this summer."

"Peter's better than us both," Remus said, sliding his eyes to look at Sirius and giving him a smirk.

"He was bound to be better than us at something," Sirius answered. Up close, he could see how pale Remus was, as if he'd been sick for a long time, as if he hadn't been in the sun at all since they'd left Hogwarts last June.

"Whose better at what?" Suddenly James was there with them, giving them both a tackling hug, all long arms and laughter. He was taller and broader as well, though it'd only been a few weeks since Sirius had managed to meet James in Diagon Alley. "I suspect the answer is me. I've found them, Peter. Skulking in corners," James called over his shoulder, waving over his parents before he offered both a grin and a hand to Remus' father. "Mr. Lupin, you know my dad, yeah?"

James kept up a running dialogue, re-introducing Remus' father to his own parents, Peter joining them, and Sirius took a step back, pulling Remus with him--pulled him closer to whisper in his ear so that the others wouldn't hear his question, and so that Remus' father wouldn't know what Sirius had noticed. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You always say that. You don't look fine."

James had launched into a terrific story starring himself, Sirius didn't doubt, waving his arms and demonstrating some complicated move that could have been dancing or a Quidditch move. It was hard to tell, though it had everyone's attention and their laughter, too. Remus' father looked from James to Sirius to Remus, and Sirius finally let his arm drop from Remus' shoulders.

"Neither do you," Remus said. His lips were drawn into a grim line, the furrows between his eyebrows deepening, and Sirius had to look away, feeling a strange embarrassed enjoyment at being under Remus' scrutiny. "What happened to your lip?"

"Nothing. Must have hurt it saying goodbye to my mother." Sirius carefully watched for Remus' reaction, his shock and concern clear on his face, even as he tried to control them. Sirius found he needed them like some sort of salve that Madame Pomfrey would have offered for his wounds. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and shrugged his shoulders, as if to say he didn't care about his parents or Remus' concern or anything else, even as he pushed the toe of his polished dress shoe against Remus' ragged black All Star, his mouth quirking up into something like a smile. "Does it make me look tough?"

"I wasn't aware you needed assistance with that."

"You present a bit of competition with the birds to James and myself, tripping over themselves as they do about your scars and your air of mystery."

"They don't." Remus dropped his head and hid his blush beneath hair that had gone slightly shaggy, though Sirius could see he was smiling, too, pleased if embarrassed. Sirius barked out a laugh, clapping his hand on Remus' back, and felt his own cheeks warming up when he realized everyone had stopped talking to look at them. Their looks were expectant, as if wanting to know the joke, except for Mr. Lupin who looked torn between being happy to see his son being included and fear that perhaps the joke would be on Remus. Sirius stepped in front of Remus and looked to James for help, which was easily given.

"Is it time to go?" James asked.

"I think it is," Mr. Potter said, looking at his watch.

"James, do you have your owl? Peter?" James' mother began to herd the boys and their bags toward the barrier leading to the platform. "Sirius, dear, where's your trunk?"

"My father sent it on, Mrs. Potter."

"You're going to miss your train, dad," Remus said, moving past Sirius to put his hand on his father's arm. "Do you have your ticket?"

"I'm fine, Remus. I can catch the next if I miss this. I'll help you with your trunk. You're still weak," Mr. Lupin said as he reached for Remus' battered trunk, staggering a bit beneath the weight of it. Sirius took the handle from him, grinning back at them both as he carried it off.

“Thank you, Sirius,” Mr. Lupin said, patting Sirius on the shoulder as he passed.

Sirius' grin turned lopsided, missing to Mr. Lupin's heavy accent and the noise of the station what he said next, but Remus must have heard because his sudden, unexpected laughter rang out loud and clear. The sound seemed to catch his father by surprise and Sirius couldn't help but wonder if maybe it was just as foreign to Mr. Lupin's ears as it had become to his mates. They had all turned to watch, Sirius greedily so, especially when Mr. Lupin caught Remus' face between his hands and stared at him hard, his eyes going glassy, before he pulled Remus into a hug.

"C'mon, Sirius," James said, turning away as though he felt the moment was somehow too private, but Sirius continued to watch, unable to look anywhere else. Remus didn't laugh much and almost never out loud, not like he used to, not like when they were younger, and Sirius wished he had heard what had caused it, wished he could write it down and make Remus sound like that more often. James caught Sirius by the arm, and pulled him through the barrier, Sirius holding back just for another moment longer to see if he could hear what else Mr. Lupin would say--to hear what a father who loved his son would say.

"Write to me."

"I will, dad."

"I love you. Be good. Be safe, Remus"

"I will. I promise. I love you, too."

Sirius watched as Mr. Lupin pulled Remus down for another kiss to his cheek before he rushed away, as Remus stood watching his father disappear into the crowds. It was only then that Sirius allowed himself to fall through the barrier, his chest aching in a hollow, unfamiliar way.

"Where have you been, Sirius? I don't like to be kept waiting."

Sirius stumbled as his father's fingers dug into his arm. As soon as he was righted, he attempted to shake off his father's heavy hand, a sulk already turning his lips down. He slid his eyes to James, embarrassed, before his father shook him less gently. "Okay," he said, lowering his eyes as he dropped the handle to Remus' trunk. "I just stopped to say hello to my friends."

“Your friends can wait,” his father said, looking to where the Potters stood beside James and finally on Peter as he came through the barrier.

“Okay,” Sirius said again, quietly, glad when Remus didn't immediately follow Peter.

His dad straightened up, his eyes still on Peter before his lips curled into a sneer and he turned away. “Come along, Sirius. I wish to speak with the Dolohov’s before the train leaves.”

James stepped forward as soon as Mr. Black's back was turned and grabbed the handle to Remus’ trunk. He gave Sirius a tight lipped smile and nodded toward where Mr. Black was walking across the platform, families parting to let him pass and Regulus following in his wake. When Sirius still didn't move, James nudged Sirius forward, whispering. “I’ve got it. Just go.”

Sirius reluctantly followed behind his father and Regulus. When Mr. Black greeted the Dolohov's, Sirius jammed his hands deep into his pockets, his eyes going hooded and his expression distant. He didn’t listen to his father’s conversation, didn’t acknowledge Regulus at all, and ignored the whispers of the boys around him, mostly Slytherins whose fathers would like to be able to say they’ve spoken with Orion Black whilst waiting for the train.

After a few moments, Sirius chanced a look back to where the Potters stood and saw Remus as he came through the barrier. Remus met Sirius’ eyes, saw that Sirius was with his father, and quickly looked away. There was no chance, Sirius knew, of his father wanting to meet his friends. As he continued to watch, Remus found Peter, James and the Potters, reached for his trunk though James shook his head and sat on the lid to keep Remus from lifting it himself. James’ mother hugged each of the boys in turn and his father shook their hands and hugged James, and Sirius took a step forward, almost unconsciously, wanting to tell the Potters good-bye, but his father shot his hand out again, clamping onto Sirius' shoulder and staying his feet.

“It’s about discipline,” his father was saying. “Dumbledore shows none, of course. It has to be taught at home. We considered sending our eldest to Durmstrang but Black’s have always attended Hogwarts. One bad Headmaster couldn’t change that.”

“Dumbledore is weak,” Mr. Dolohov agreed, his own son standing behind him wearing Slytherin colors. The boy smirked at Sirius, mimicking a fist behind his father’s back. “I’ve heard he even wants to abolish the four Houses and have all the students integrate. It's ridiculous, of course. He doesn't understand the importance to our children to meet the right people and keep the right company--your youngest, Regulus, for example. I hear he’ll be probably be seeker for Slytherin this year.”

“He knows how to take advantage of his opportunities, something his brother could learn.” Orion looked down at Sirius, his hand tightening its grip. “Regulus stays out of trouble and knows his place. His brother is rebellious and Dumbledore allows it, indulges him as high-spirited. A firm hand is what's needed so that they learn such behavior won't be tolerated.”

“Yes,” Mr. Dolohov agreed, looking down at Sirius as well and Sirius met his stare with one of his own.

At last, the final boarding was called for the train, and there was a sudden flurry of hugs and hurried good-byes from the families around them as the platform began to clear. Mr. Black sent Regulus onto the train, his hand still heavy on Sirius’ shoulder. He said his good-byes to the other fathers, wishing their sons well, and Sirius noted that it was more than his father had ever wished for him. Finally, when they were nearly alone on the platform, his father rounded on him, his mask of congeniality gone.

“You'll apologize to your mother--”

“She hit me.”

“And you'll treat your brother with respect this year. You will obey me, Sirius Black. I will not tolerate this behavior. You’re an embarrassment. I’m ashamed to even call you my son.”

“You don’t have to.”

“You need to understand where your loyalties lie and live up to the Black family name." The sound of his voice made Sirius quake and take a step back when he pointed his finger close to Sirius’ face. "I don't care which House you were sorted in, you are the heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, and while I’m led to believe that this show of rebellion is common at your age, you are not common. The Blacks are not common.”

“This isn’t a phase that I’ll grow out of, father. This is who I am.”

“You are my son. Those blood traitors and mudbloods with whom you’ve associated yourself have polluted your thinking.”

“Don’t call them that.”

“They are not proper associates for you,” Mr. Black said, his voice suddenly calm. “Amerson” he said, and Sirius realized that his father was greeting another acquaintance, and Sirius tried to take advantage of the momentary distraction to twist out from his father's grasp. “Two sons in this year, I understand.”

"I did think of Durmstrang, but Hogwarts is the old alma mater, of course" the other man called out as he retreated toward the platform, a tall woman following in his wake.

“Pure bloods, Sirius. All the men of my acquaintance and all your brother’s friends. You don’t have to demean yourself.”

“They’re my family.”

Mr. Black grabbed Sirius’ hand, dragging him closer until they were nearly nose-to-nose, his father's features twisted in anger so that Sirius knew he'd pushed too far. “I am your family, Sirius Black, and you will do as I tell you. The Potters and the Pettigrews are blood traitors and that other boy is beneath your notice. Muggle born, no doubt.”

Sirius knew immediately that his father was speaking of Remus and felt something hard drop in his stomach at the thought that his father had even noticed him. “His father is a wizard,” he whispered.

“Half breed then. No better than an animal.”

“Stop,” Sirius pleaded, still trying to pull his hand away but his father only jerked him closer, crushing Sirius’ hand in his own. A sudden fury seemed to have overtaken his father at the very thought of Remus, and for a horrible moment Sirius worried that he somehow knew exactly what Remus was. Sirius saw how his father's eyes burned as he stared at a point behind Sirius, and Sirius was afraid to turn, afraid to see that murderous rage leveled at the friend he tried so hard to protect.

“He deserves to be tied to a yoke. When the Dark Lord liberates the Wizarding world, creatures like him will be the first to be crushed beneath our boots and then we will take our rightful place."

It felt as though all the air had been pressed from Sirius' lungs and he gasped, pulling harder to get away, to board the train before he was left behind.

“It's coming, Sirius. Your brother will bring me honor. What will you bring me?” Orion tightened his grip on Sirius’ hand and took Sirius’ chin between his fingers, turning them from the view of the happier families surrounding them, many of whom were still calling their final good-byes over the sound of the train. “Disgrace and scorn. I will not have it.”

“You’re hurting me, father.” Sirius’ voice sounded strangled to his own ears, and he swallowed hard against the weakness he knew his father would perceive.

“Perhaps it will help you to remember who you are.”

Sirius didn’t cry out when his father tipped his fingers back, bones snapping with a dull crack though the pain was sharp. The engines flared and the doors to the train began to slide shut as Sirius finally managed to pull away and took a step back, out of his father's reach. His father straightened, the terrifying mask he’d just worn sliding into another, and Sirius couldn't bear to see if there was another friend of the proper sort to be greeted with such good cheer. Instead, he turned and ran for the train, more afraid to miss it now than anything else, and threw himself aboard.

Outside the carriage window, Sirius watched his father watch him until the train sped around a corner and he felt as though he could breath again. He sagged against the wall, surprised to find his wand in his hand.

“Not exactly daddy’s favorite, are you, Black.”

“Shut it, Dolohov.

“I’m just giving you a chance to meet the right kind of people.”

“If you find any, let me know," Sirius spat out, pushing past the older boy.

“C’mon now, Black. I’m just trying to be nice.” Dolohov grabbed Sirius’ arm and slammed him against the carriage wall. “I got the impression that your dad thinks you need to meet some new friends.”

“I don’t know, Dolohov. I think the friends he has are pretty good. Don’t you agree, Black?” It was James, his wand pressed suddenly at Dolohov’s neck, and relief flooded through Sirius at the sight of him. “All right, Sirius?”

“Fine.”

Dolohov took a step back, his empty hands raised in surrender. “Alright then. It was just a bit of fun. Ask Loony Lupin how much fun I can be. He'll tell--”

Sirius raised his wand and hexed Dolohov before he could finish his sentence. Dolohov doubled over, his hands covering his face as he moaned. Another Slytherin stepped out of a compartment to see what was going on, and Sirius hexed him just as quickly.

“Alright, Sirius,” James said as he grabbed Sirius by his shirt, pulling him down the hall. “C’mon. You’ve made your point.” James shoved Sirius into their compartment, pulling the door shut behind them. “What was that about?”

“Nothing. Where’s Remus?” Sirius looked around as if Remus could be hidden anywhere in the tiny room. He hated the waver he heard in his voice and hoped it only sounded like that to his own ears. He couldn't help the spike of fear that seized him, as if afraid that they might have come for Remus already--imagining Remus in a cage, Remus dead--and his fingertips danced on his wand.

James took a step closer, reaching for Sirius’ shoulder though Sirius shook him off. “What just happened?”

“Where is Remus?” Sirius raised his voice, growing angrier as James stood looking at him as though he’d grown a second head, as if he was as mad as his mother. “Did he get on the train?

“I’m here, Sirius, and the whole car can hear you, by the way.”

Sirius turned when Remus slid the door open, and pushed his hand roughly through his hair, relief making him feel weak in the knees for the second time. “Why do you have your school robes on already?”

“Why do you?”

“My mother has no appreciation for Muggle fashion.”

“I read in the paper that the Chudley Cannons signed Oliver Pollock as their new beater,” Peter said loudly, his hand curled tight around a battered copy of Quidditch Weekly.

James shook his head a bit, stepping in front of Peter in case Sirius turned on him. “Our Remus has news," James said. "A terrible blow has been dealt to the Marauders.”

Sirius could tell that James had forced his voice to be calm, sitting only when he seemed satisfied that Peter was probably not in immediate danger of being covered in boils. The false cheer in his voice only sent another wave of dread through Sirius and he looked down at them both. He felt a flush work its way up his chest and blossom over his cheeks, embarrassment settling in along with a dull ache behind his eyes as the adrenalin left his body. He turned back to Remus, watching as he crammed his Muggle clothes into a small carry on bag. For a moment, he considered hexing them all speechless just so that there could be quiet for the next several hours.

“What news?” He finally asked when he could think of words to form.

“What happened to your hand?” Remus asked quietly, ignoring Sirius' own question as he straightened up from his task and looked at Sirius.

For a moment, Sirius got the silence he wanted though he could only wonder how to answer Remus' question and ease the worry he could see in James' eyes without telling them the truth. He rolled his shoulders as if to dislodge their concern and lifted his chin. “It's nothing. What’s your news? What’s Potter talking about?”

Remus ignored Sirius for a second time and reached for his hand, sucking in a breath when he saw the bruises blooming across Sirius’ skin, the way three of his fingers twisted in the wrong direction, the swelling only just started. He turned Sirius’ hand in his own, cradling it against his chest, and moved his own fingertips softly along Sirius’ wrist. James and Peter stood up to look as Sirius attempted to pull his hand away, but Remus was firm and Sirius found he didn’t want to move away from Remus’ gentle touch anyway.

“They look broken,” Peter said.

“Thank you for that, Nurse Pettigrew. I thought perhaps--”

“Shut it, Sirius,” Remus said. “And put your wand away.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes but said nothing more. James put himself between Sirius and Peter again before he took Sirius’ wand from between his fingers and slid it into a pocket in Sirius' robe. James looked down to where Remus was holding Sirius’ hand, grimacing a bit. “What happened? Did your father--”

“I told you it’s nothing.” He tried again to pull his hand away from Remus, but Remus put his hand on Sirius’ shoulder, stopping him, and then turned again, backing them both against the window so that Sirius couldn’t pull away. Sirius sagged against him a bit, his hand going to Remus’ waist as he gave in. “Just fix it, Remus.”

“I’ve never done a healing charm on someone else,” Remus said even as he reached for his wand.

Remus moved so that Sirius’ battered hand was in front of him, holding Sirius steady against the movement of the train as he raised his wand, whispering the incantation twice to make sure he was comfortable saying it and remembered all the right inflections and movements. The door opened suddenly, startling them all, and Lily stepped inside the compartment. Sirius watched as she took in the scene: Remus with his wand out, its tip pointed at Sirius’ hand. James’ hand on Sirius’ shoulder. Peter sunk down into one of the seats, watching with wide eyes, his face bloodless as he worried his hands together as if washing without water.

“What are you lot doing?”

“Nothing Evans. Don’t you need to go hold Snivellus’ hand?” Sirius asked, forcing his voice to sound hard. "He'll be crying for his mummy with you gone."

"I came to collect Remus." Lily looked at Sirius with disdain, pinching her lips and wrinkling her nose as if she smelled something deeply unpleasant before she returned her attention to Remus. “We need to-- What are you doing?”

“A healing charm.”

“What happened?” Lily stepped closer, her eyes going to Sirius’ hand, and Sirius noticed the shining prefect's pinned to her robes. Of course, she would be a prefect, he thought.

“Sirius was helping Remus with his trunk,” Peter lied easily from where he sat.

“And the handle snapped,” James added.

“And fell on his foot,” Remus finished lamely. They all look at him. “The handle fell on his foot, I mean. The trunk on his hand. You know what I meant. When he was lifting it up. Onto his hand.”

Lily shook her head as if she didn’t believe them anyways. “Have you done them before, Remus? You could cause more damage, you know. I could go get the Head Boy and Girl. They’ll know what to do.”

“Lupin will do it,” Sirius said when Lily opened her mouth to argue. “I don’t trust anyone else, and certainly not Wilkins, head boy or no. Just hurry up.”

“I’ve done them before, Lily,” Remus said quietly, his voice calm. Remus held Sirius’ hand lightly in his own and spoke the incantation, tapping the end of his wand against the back of Sirius’ hand. The bones straighten themselves with a dull crunching sound that made Lily’s clench her hand at her stomach and her face twist. James grabbed Sirius to keep him on his feet as he leaned heavily on Remus, the sway of the train threatening to dump them all. Sirius tightened his hand around Remus’ waist as they were tipped against the window, and buried his face into Remus’ neck to keep Lily from seeing how much pain he was in.

After a moment, when they had righted themselves, Remus said, “Sorry. I should have warned you how much it would hurt. Better?”

Sirius flexed his hand and nodded, his face still against Remus' neck. All the boys seem to realize at the same time how intimately close they were standing together and took quick steps away, Remus going to his small bag. James turned to Lily with a bright smile while Sirius jammed his hand into his pocket so they couldn’t look at it anymore, and tossed himself down into the seat by the window. He felt sick and tired, gray around the edges, as he watched Remus' precise movements to have something else to focus on and wasn't surprised when he found comfort in them. “I don’t suppose you could leave us for a bit, Evans.”

“Gladly. I just came to get Remus. The prefects have a car to themselves at the front and we’re meant to sit together for a meeting.”

“Prefect?” Sirius exploded, coming to his feet again. Once more, he found his wand in his hand his hand before James could stop him, and James moved to stand in front of Lily this time, though all she did was tilt her head at Sirius and cross her arms in front of her chest.

Remus forced himself to meet Sirius’ eyes before turning away quickly, guilty. Sirius recognized it in the twist of his lips, believing he’d betrayed them all.

“I told you, old man," James say. He settled back onto the bench next to Peter and stretched his long legs out in front of him. "Life is never going to be the same."

“I’ll be up in a minute, Lily,” Remus said and Lily finally looked away from Sirius, rolling her eyes at the boys on her way out. The door slid shut behind her and they were left in silence. Remus pointedly did not look at either James or Sirius, but pulled out the badge that he’d apparently kept in the envelope it had been delivered in.

“Help me pin this on, Peter,” he said quietly, holding it out.

“Are we going to be dressing you next, Prefect?” Sirius spat out, feeling a different kind of relief at having another direction for his anger. “Cutting up your food and wiping your--”

“It’s silver.” Remus said quietly, still holding it out to Peter. Peter stood and took the badge out, attempting to pin it to Remus by just grabbing a handful of his robe. Instead, he managed to jab Remus in the shoulder. Remus jerked back, hissing, his hand going up to catch the falling badge as Peter lifted both his hands away and took a step back. The badge grazed Remus’ fingertip as it fell to the floor, and Remus stuck his fingertips into his mouth, his other hand rubbing at his chest, his eyes closed against the sharp burn.

Sirius stood and pushed Peter from his way, and grabbed the badge from the floor. He turned Remus by the shoulder, pushing his back against the door. He tugged down the collar of his t shirt to look at the mark on Remus' skin. Once he was satisfied that it wasn't that bad, he slipped his hand inside Remus’ robe and pinned on the badge, staring now into Remus’ eyes. Remus didn’t look away.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Sirius asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“I didn’t know until this week.”

“You could have sent me an owl.”

“If I had an owl to send. Besides I was a little preoccupied.”

Sirius was suddenly counting back days, trying to remember when the full moon was. He noticed again how pale Remus was, the dark circles like bruises beneath his eyes, and Sirius' lips twisted a bit in a way that he knew Remus would recognize as guilt.

“You told James and Peter,” Sirius whispered, not quite ready to give up his argument.

“Just now on the platform. Just before we got onto the train. Can we not fight about this right now? It’s not like I chose myself.” Remus rubbed his fists into his eyes then pushed his fingers through his hair. Sirius grabbed his hand, looking at the angry little marks, at a tiny blister developing on the tip of Remus’ finger until Remus pulled his hand away. “I have to go.”

“Right.” Sirius didn’t move, still staring at Remus. If they'd been alone, if James and Peter weren’t there, Sirius would have been offering him a quiet apology or at least an explanation, though Remus would probably have to needle it out of him. Remus looked too tired to even try.

It was hours later before Remus rejoined them, not on the train but as they sat down to dinner in the Great Hall, and Sirius was exceedingly cross again. James had spent the journey to Hogwarts trying to keep Sirius from hexing Peter and Peter from gnawing his fingernails to the quick. He was silent now, they all were, especially Remus, through the sorting and the speeches. While Sirius wanted it before, the silence, it reminded him too much of dinners at Grimmauld Place, even here, where it's supposed to be safe. Sirius shifted along the bench next to Remus, glancing over his shoulder to glare in Regulus' general direction, still convinced this was his fault, and avoided James' eyes.

"How many times have you burned yourself on that thing?" Sirius asked when he finally turned back around. He grabbed Remus' hand, Remus' fork clattering down onto his plate, and looked at the angry red marks and tiny blisters before Remus jerked his hand away.

"I keep forgetting it's there," Remus hissed back.

Sirius grabbed the badge from Remus’ robe, hearing the fabric rip a little before Remus could pull away from him completely, and slammed it down onto the table between them, as if it'd done him some great personal offense. They continued on with picking at their dinners in silence with James and Peter talking in stilted tones about nothing and everything, anything to pretend that whatever was happening between Remus and Sirius wasn't actually happening. Sirius didn't blame them, though he squirmed beneath James’ looks of concern, and hated that he couldn’t think of how to fix things. It seemed too far gone for that, he had gone too far. When Remus was done eating, he got up without a word to anyone, leaving his badge. James reached for it but Sirius was quicker, grabbing it and sliding it into his pocket. James didn't say a word but pushed back his plate, looking away from Sirius.

There was more silence in their dorm that night. Peter and James stayed in the common room until curfew, leaving Sirius to unpack by himself as Remus had gone off to do whatever it was that prefects did away from their mates. Sirius had pulled his curtains shut tight and lay in bed, listening for when Remus came in, and then, when he was sure Peter and James were asleep, he had to force himself to creep over to Remus’ bed.

“Are you awake?” He whispered into the dark and heard Remus roll over and pull the curtains aside. He took that as invitation enough and crawled onto Remus’ bed. He pulled the curtains closed behind him and cast a lumos spell, tucking his wand into a space on the headboard. For a moment, he just watched Remus as he blinked in the sudden light before he sat up against his pillows. “Where were you?”

“Professor McGonagall’s office.”

“What did she want?”

"She thought I looked ill and wanted to make sure I was okay."

"Are you?"

Remus shook his head, clearly not wanting to talk about it. "She also wanted to talk about why they chose me to be prefect. You know, big responsibility because they trust me, she trusts me, and could I please do something with Potter and Black so that we don’t have any repeats of last year’s Valentine’s Day fiasco."

Sirius ducked his head, his lips quirking up into a half smile, remembering the sea of pink robes along the Slytherin side of the Great Hall at breakfast. He shifted to lay down on the bed with Remus, Remus moving over to make room and having to roll onto his side. Sirius's shoulder still pressed into his chest; they were getting too big to share.

"I suppose it had to be one of the four of us,” Sirius said, folding his hands behind his head. “You are the good boy."

Remus huffed out at last, smiling slightly, and Sirius knew he was forgiven. "That's what my dad called you, when you took my trunk. He said you seemed like a good boy."

"No wonder you laughed." Sirius turned, his eyes flashing as he grinned and Remus finally grinned back at him, a true smile all the way up to his eyes. They were quiet for a moment before Sirius finally had to look away, feeling warm and funny inside. He looked instead at the ribbing of canopy on Remus' bed, whispering what he had wanted to say all day. "I'm sorry, Remus, for what I said earlier. How I acted."

"It's okay."

"You're not mad at me?"

"No."

"I just get so angry sometimes, you know, with my family, and then you didn't come back to sit with me--us--on the train."

"I fell asleep during the prefects' meeting; it was dull as tombs. Lily said she didn't want to wake me."

"Are you sick, like McGonagall said?" Remus was quiet for so long that Sirius was sure he wasn't going to answer and he began to wonder if maybe Remus had fallen asleep. When he turned, he found that Remus was watching him.

“My mum found another cure, in Romania," Remus said after a while. My dad didn't want me to do it and they had a big row. He finally consented because I told him that I wanted it."

"You didn't you, did you." Statement, not a question. Sirius already knew the answer.

"No. They don't work, they never do. There is no cure. She--it makes her feel better, you know, my mum, that they're trying. But this time, it-- It made it worse somehow and I was sick for a long time after my transformation in July. This full it was even worse. My dad wanted to take me to St. Mungos but mum wouldn’t hear it, afraid that I wouldn’t come back. She’s afraid of the Ministry."

Remus sunk down in his bed a little and having nowhere else to go, rested his head on Sirius' shoulder. Sirius was still beneath him, waiting. After a few moments of silence, Sirius put his hand on Remus’ warm back and felt Remus relax against him.

"My dad put his foot down. No more cures. Mum has been, I don’t know, worse since we came back. She cries every time she looks at me. I was glad when we got to King’s Cross. My dad thought that it was going to be too much for me to come back and I told him I was fine, that it doesn’t hurt. He knew I was lying but I had to come back.”

“Does it hurt?”

“All the time now, like I have too many bones in my body. McGonagall is going to talk to Dumbledore and wants me to see Madame Pomfrey tomorrow after classes.” Remus shook his head and sighed, his fingers plucking at the buttons on Sirius’ night shirt for a bit before he relaxed his hand. Sirius picked it up to look at the burn marks in the light from his wand.

“He was so proud, Sirius, when I got that stupid badge. He kept telling everybody about this honor I got at school, though I don’t think any of them knew what he was talking about, or even believed him. People like me don't go to school usually. It didn’t matter. It was nice, you know, to pretend that I’m normal for a little bit. To let him think that his son isn’t a--”

“Don’t Remus.” Sirius put his hand on the back of Remus’ head protectively and pulled him closer.

Remus took a deep, shuddering breath and rubbed his forehead against Sirius' shoulder, staving off tears, before settling again. "I would have told you but the letter came while we were in Romania and they didn't tell me until we were sure I could come back. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me. I was being a prat because my dad pissed me off."

“Seemed like more than just a disagreement. He hurt you." Remus took Sirius’ in his own, looking at the bruises and Sirius let him. "What were you fighting about?”

“It was nothing, just forget about it." Sirius really wished he could forget the things his father said to him but he reasoned it didn't matter now that he was back at Hogwarts. There would only be Christmas holidays home and enough extended family around then that fighting was nearly impossible. One more year and then he'd be seventeen. It wouldn't matter what his family said or did, then. He only had to make it through next summer and that seemed a long ways off, especially when he had bigger concerns and even bigger plans to help Remus. "It'll be okay, Remus. Dumbledore will know what to do.”

“It was easier when I was younger. My bones were more pliable. They slipped back into place easier. Now…” Remus’ voice trailed off and he spread his fingers along Sirius’ so they were palm to palm, nearly evenly matched but Sirius’ hand was wider and Remus’ fingers were longer, thinner, his knuckles slightly swollen.

"Hey. What's going on?"

"Nothing James, go back to sleep." Sirius lifted up, Remus going too, dropping each other’s hands, listening as James crawled out of his bed. The curtains were pushed aside and James stood for a minute staring owlishly at them before he crawled in to stretch out half on top of them both, his head on the pillow between them, nearly knocking Sirius off the side of the bed.

"Not big enough for all three of us, you great oaf," Sirius grumbled.

James just yawned at him and pushed his glasses higher onto his nose. "We've got to do something about this Prefect business, lads. It just won't do."

"I took five points each from three different Slytherins tonight."

"I don't suppose one of them was my brother."

"No. I didn't see him."

"Still, it's a good show, Moony,” James said. “A good start."

Peter sat up suddenly in his bed, looking more asleep than awake, his hair twisting in all different directions. “Are we going to the kitchens?” he asked and James, Remus and Sirius laughed at him.

“Go back to sleep, Peter.”

“My mum sent some cauldron cakes.”

“Then you’re formally invited to the party on Moony’s bed,” James called.

Peter stumbled over, bringing the carefully wrapped cakes and putting them into a small pile on the middle of the bed, and climbed onto the foot of the bed. James sat up, reaching for one, dislodging both Remus and Sirius from the edge of the bed. James caught Remus by his arms before he fell but Sirius landed on the floor with an oomph.

“Where did Sirius get off, to? I could have swore he was right here. Did you see him Peter?” James asked, looking around as if he couldn’t see Sirius. “More cakes for us, boys.”

“You did that on purpose.”

“I never have.”

As Sirius stood, he began rubbing his hip and mock limped to his bedside table to retrieve Remus’ badge while the other boys laughed at him. Sirius put the gleaming badge next to the cakes and pointed his wand at it.

“I don’t suppose you know any alchemist's charms that will turn it into gold,” Sirius asked James.

“Professor McGonagall said that she would fix it tomorrow.”

“That'd be dead useful, wouldn't it? A little beyond my current talents, though. Just do a protective charm on it,” James said and Sirius tried two before his third charm worked and Remus could pick it up without being hurt.

“Thanks.” Remus looked at it for a moment and then pinned it to his pajamas. “Five points to Gryffindor.”

“I brought the cakes,” Peter said, reaching for a second.

“Ten points, then, to the founder of the feast.”

“Ten?” Sirius asked. He lifted his chin and tugged his pajamas straight, brushing imaginary lint from his shoulders, as the other boys laughed at him again, Remus the loudest. Sirius felt that strange warmth flood him again from head to toe at the sound. This time the relief he felt was real and lasting and he was sure they would have a good year.

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