Archive of Our Own

September 1971

Every time Sirius gave the Fat Lady the password he thought she was going to laugh in his face and turn him away. Even when he climbed through the portrait hole, he expected her to start shrieking that a Slytherin was breaking into Gryffindor Tower. It took him a few weeks to mostly get past that fear, but a lot, lot longer to accept that Gryffindor was where he belonged – and where he was accepted.

He didn’t talk to that many people at the start. The curious, often suspicious looks he got from the other Gryffindors made him want to hide away in shame, and he spent most of the first couple of weeks hiding far away in the grounds, or in dusty corners of the castle when it was rainy. Until his loud, eternally happy and unreasonably friendly dormmate cornered him after breakfast one Saturday when he was trying to skulk off.

“Hey! Sirius, mate!”

Sirius turned to see James half-jogging towards him across the entrance hall. “You wanna come play some two on two Quidditch with me? I wanna practice for try-outs next year but the other two in our dorm don’t fly. I asked,” he added, with a lopsided grin.

Sirius felt a defensive urge to refuse, but James’s demeanour was so warm and he looked so excited that a small, hopeful part of him triumphed.

“Yeah, alright,” he said, with a small smile.

Neither of them had Quidditch robes, but they changed into some sports clothes – Sirius didn’t own any, as his parents didn’t see why anything so informal would be required for him, so James leant him some of his strange Muggle clothes – and headed out onto the pitch. James chatted enthusiastically the entire time about his love for Quidditch, how he wanted to try out for the team next year, the things he thought they could practice together today. Sirius found it a little overwhelming how… genuine he was. He didn’t seem concerned about looking silly for caring about something, or the tone or accent with which he spoke, or really what Sirius thought of him at all. He had only nice things to say, and at no point made any subtle insults about people he thought were below him, or so much as a passing reference to Sirius being in Gryffindor even though he was a Black.

Sirius was almost glad to get out on a broom where he was free of James’s onslaught. But his enthusiasm didn’t wane – he happily insisted on playing keeper first and cheered ‘Good one, mate!’ every time Sirius hurled the Quaffle through the hoops. It brought a bit of a grin to Sirius’s face, and he found himself returning at least some of the goodwill when it was James’s turn to be Chaser. The words felt so odd, coming out of his mouth. He’d never cheered anyone on before – only forcefully, neutrally congratulated members of his family on various illustrious achievements.

By the time they headed back to the castle it was lunch time. Sirius was high on the rush of flying and was chatting just as much as James was, now. They headed straight to the Great Hall, still in their muddy muggle clothes, and down between the tables to find a seat.

“Good lord, Sirius, have you already stooped so low as to become a muggle?” Bellatrix cackled from the Slytherin table. The two of them paused momentarily, looking over to see a huddle of Slytherins laughing at Sirius in disbelief. “I can’t believe you’d leave Gryffindor Tower like that, although I suppose muggle rags are the uniform there.”

Sirius went scarlet. His heart was hammering with anger, but he couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

“You know I think you’d look quite fetching in muggle clothes, Bellatrix!” James piped up cheerily. “There’s this thing they have called a balaclava – like a scarf that covers your whole face. Would suit you perfectly.”

Sirius snorted loudly, and James grinned at him. Then before Bellatrix could recover from her shock, they turned around and sat down at a table full of laughing Gryffindors.

*

February 1975

He kept staring at Remus, recently. It was embarrassing – he didn’t know why his eyes kept finding him. He kept telling himself not to, but it somehow only made it worse, like his eyes deliberately rebelled against him. Sometimes he didn’t realise until it was too late, when Remus caught his eye and suddenly looked confused or flustered, or sometimes he gave him the tiniest of smiles. Those were the times when Sirius’s heart skipped a beat, and he felt this wave of longing that was absolutely incomprehensible.

So he couldn’t stop, no matter how hard he tried, because then it became a special secret between them – Sirius would stare at Remus with a small smile, until he inevitably looked up and caught his eye, and Sirius would quirk an eyebrow and Remus would roll his eyes and they’d both end up with huge grins across their faces.

They were sitting in the library, ostensibly studying. Really, Peter was the only one actually studying, bent over the essay he was determinedly working at, knowing it would take him twice as long as his friends. James was drawing out some complex diagrams for Quidditch game plans he wanted to suggest to their Captain. Remus, who had already finished all his homework, was over by a bookshelf across the room trying to find a weekend read. Sirius was here to watch Remus.

Remus’s back was turned to him, currently. Sirius could see the way his slightly messy, straw covered hair was brushing along his collar now it had grown a bit; how his jumper was pulling at his broad shoulders in a way which gave him the aura of alluring, latent power; how his jeans somehow made his legs look even longer, and they fit in a way which made a low flame run through Sirius’s body. No one was watching, so he let himself stare, swallowing slightly as the familiar feeling of longing rose.

Remus pulled out a book, and turned slightly away from the shelf towards Sirius’s direction, then flipped the book open. He began scanning it, clearly looking for something, when his gaze flickered up towards Sirius. Their eyes met, and for a moment nether of then moved – both locked in a moment Sirius didn’t understand. Then Remus quirked an eyebrow, Sirius grinned, and Remus shook his head, turning back to his book and leaving Sirius with a smile plastered across his face, and a wave of joy filling his chest.

Sirius finally looked away, and that was when he saw Snape, lurking at the edge of the room by the windows. Snape had paused, clutching his books, looking as if he was walking back to the exit. But something had stopped him – he was staring at Sirius, with an expression mixed between disgust and glee. His eyes pointedly back to Remus, then back to Sirius, and his mouth twisted into a cruel smile. Then he turned on his heel and walked out the library, leaving Sirius with his heart hammering in a way that was absolutely nothing to do with the way Remus looked.

*

Snape didn’t say anything for a week after the library incident. Sirius started to think maybe he hadn’t noticed – or that he was smirking at something else. He hated Remus, simply because he hated everyone who wasn’t a pureblood.

(Except Evans, but the whole thing there was fucking baffling, even to him.)

Sirius was walking slowly through an empty corridor one evening on some re-con for their latest prank, peering behind the tapestries on the walls, when he bumped head first into Snape. He stumbled back, his face setting into an angry frown when he saw who it was.

“Watch it, Snivellus,” he said.

“Keep your hands to yourself, Black. I don’t want to be molested by some queer,” Snape said with a disgusted curl of his lip.

Sirius felt like his stomach dropped out of him.

“What the fuck did you just say,” he hissed, his voice shaking.

“Oh, don’t try and deny it,” Snape said with a cruel laugh. “I saw you leering at Lupin. I’d feel bad for him, but he deserves it, frankly, filthy mudblood.”

“Keep his fucking name out of your mouth!” shouted Sirius, rage roaring inside of him. He didn’t understand what was happening. Snape should be frightened, by now. He should be running away with a glare and an insult thrown over his shoulder. Sirius should be towering over him, clearly with the upper hand.

Instead Sirius was frozen to the spot, keenly aware that Snape had the power between them, for reasons he terrifyingly could not understand.

“Oh – oh,” Snape laughed. “Unless he’s queer too? Is that why you’re so close? A pair of queers all alone in Gryffindor Tower? I bet —”

“Shut your fucking face, Snivellus,” came James’s furious voice from behind Sirius. Snape’s confident smirk dropped instantly, and he backed away from Sirius.

“I wouldn’t have thought even you’d stoop this low, Potter, but I shouldn’t have been surprised,” Snape snarled, and then he turned and walked hurriedly away from them.

Sirius was shaking, still frozen to the spot. Nausea was rising in his stomach and his ears were rushing, like the world had just turned on its axis so fast he couldn’t keep up with it.

“Mate, you okay?” James asked carefully, touching Sirius’s shoulder lightly. Sirius jerked away instinctively, gasping, and James held his hands up in apology. “Sorry, I’m sorry,” he said quickly. Sirius shook his head, biting his lip. He couldn’t meet James’s eyes. “Snivellus is a piece of shit, mate. He was fucking out of order. Don’t listen to him.”

Sirius pressed his eyes shut, wishing the ground would just swallow him whole. Everything inside of him wanted to tell James, but he’d just had to bear the shame from Snape – he couldn’t bear to hear it from James, too.

“Hey, Sirius,” James said quietly, a note of realisation in his voice. He took a hesitant step towards him. “You’re – you’re not just upset because he was being a dick, are you?” Sirius stayed staring at the ground, pressing his lips together so hard they went white. James paused, then took a shaky breath.

“Snape doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Whoever you are – it’s, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.” James paused again, and Sirius still didn’t say anything. “Sirius, look at me mate. Come on, it’s me.” Sirius swallowed and slowly looked up at James. He was staring at him with wide, concerned eyes, full of sadness and empathy. Completely James.

“When have we ever judged each other for who we are?” he said quietly. “Didn’t judge you from coming from the spawn of Satan, eh?” he added, and Sirius managed the tiniest of laughs. He wiped his eyes, sniffing.

“I don’t know what to do, James,” he said desperately. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

James nodded. “Sounds bloody terrifying,” he said.

“I don’t want to be like this,” Sirius said, his voice cracking.

“Hey, hey,” James said, throwing his arms around him. “Come on, mate. It’s gonna be alright.” It wasn’t, it was never going to be okay – but at least, for just a moment, he had James to help him pretend.

*

They never talked about it. James never asked, and Sirius never said anything. Almost nothing changed – James didn’t stop stripping off in the dorm, to Sirius’s immense relief, even though he tried almost as hard to avoid himself looking as he did with Remus. James still joined in when Peter ribbed Sirius about the girls flirting with him, and clapped his hand on Sirius's shoulder whenever they said hello or goodbye.

But Snape didn’t change either. He never missed a chance to hiss slurs at Sirius when they passed in the corridors or shared a classroom. Sirius wasn’t too shocked to hurl something back, now, but he couldn’t stop his cheeks from flushing in shame.

The first time after the corridor incident that James caught him, he reacted instantly.

“Oy, Snivellus, heard the kitchens have run out of cooking oil after you slathered your hair with it this morning,” he shouted, and the students around them sniggered. Snape went pale, glared, and stormed off. Then James turned to Sirius and resumed their conversation about the best brand of stink bombs as if nothing had happened.

James had never liked Snape, not from the moment they arrived at Hogwarts and he made snide comments about muggleborns in their first class. But he had generally just exchanged insults with him in class, or stepped in when he was hurling them at someone else, or encouraged pretty raucous laugher when Snape embarrassed himself. Now, though, he went out of his way to make Snape’s life hell, as if in pre-emptive defence of Sirius. Every time he heard Snape mutter something along the lines of disgusting queer, his hatred only mounted, and he sought out more and more ways to subject Snape to the power of their pranks, or James’s ability to rally a crowd around him.

Sirius couldn’t stop Snape – he couldn’t say anything to reclaim the power Snape stole from him every time he accused him of something they both knew was true, something that would get Sirius side-lined by the entire school, something that would put him in danger with his family. He couldn’t stop the increasing shame and fear he felt every time Remus caught his eye with a knowing smirk, or how his pulse jumped when Remus’s shoulder brushed against his, or how his whole heart soared when he saw Remus glowing with pride as he ran off the Quidditch pitch after a win.

But James made him feel like a tiny part of that power was stolen back. He was reminded Sirius how little sway Snape’s insults had when the entire class was laughing at him. He put enough fear into Snape to stop him from saying anything where anyone else – god forbid, Remus – could hear. He managed to stave off the darkness that threatened to entirely overtake Sirius with the knowledge that someone – just one person – didn’t despise him for who he was.

*

April 1976

Sirius should have been more careful. He should have, he was an idiot. But he always gave in, when it came to Remus.

They were sitting underneath a willow tree in a distant corner of the grounds, lazing about in the sun in relative privacy whilst the other two Marauders were off busy. Remus was half-heartedly trying to study, but Sirius was determinedly distracting him.

He was full of relentless energy, so much that he couldn’t sleep at night. The whole school was full of tension with exams just a few weeks away, and Sirius wasn’t entirely immune to pre-OWL jitters. But it was mostly Remus, driving him completely crazy. Plaguing his thoughts night and day, making it almost impossible for him to focus on his revision, or his dinner, or anything except the way his hair looked that day or the wink he’d shot him across the classroom. He wanted to be around him, all the time. And when they were alone, all he wanted was for them to slide into those low, teasing voices, shooting each other sly smiles and saying words which seemed to mean something else entirely.

“Moo-ny,” Sirius said in a slightly pleading tone. “Talk to me.”

“Didn’t we agree we were going to come out here to study?” Remus said, staring resolutely at his book.

“We can take a little break, surely? You don’t have to study every minute of the day, Moony. Not when you’re the smartest guy in school.”

A smile pulled at Remus’s lips. “Ah, so we’re resorting to flattery, I see?”

“Is it working?”

Remus looked up at him, with only the vaguest attempt at annoyance.

“Perhaps. Try a little harder.”

Sirius’s heart fluttered.

“But Moony,” Sirius said seriously. “If I turn my charms up anymore, you might not be able to cope.”

“That’s okay. I like a bit of danger.” Remus’s eyes were twinkling at him, but they had darkened, even in the bright summer sun. Sirius couldn’t stop staring. The light-hearted, fizzing energy of moments ago had disappeared, replaced by a heavy tension between them that felt almost too powerful to bear.

“So I’ve heard,” said Sirius quietly. They were silent, for a few seconds, dangling on the precipice – they had been doing this for months, years it felt like, but they were always too terrified to jump over the edge.

Or at least, Sirius was. Remus’s lips right now were spreading into a slow, knowing smile.

“You know,” said Remus, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of Sirius’s hair behind his ear. “You should really get this cut a little over the summer. It’s always falling in your eyes.” Remus’s fingers brushed Sirius’s cheek, and his eyes flittered closed for just a moment. “You have nice eyes.”

When Sirius opened them again, Remus suddenly seemed so close. His eyes ran over Remus’s lips, and the desperate, manic urge to kiss him flooded Sirius. But he couldn’t – not here. Not in broad daylight. Not where anyone might see.

“Moony, I want to…” he began, his voice trailing off with fear and desire.

“What, Sirius?” Remus asked, breathlessly, with the tiniest quirk of his eyebrow. “What do you want?”

Footsteps suddenly approached, a woman’s giggle running through the air amongst the rustle of the leaves. They jumped apart, both turning around to see Snape and Evans walking towards them. They were metres away, and Sirius had no idea where they’d come from. Had they been hidden behind the branches? Did they see? What did they see?

The pair paused as they caught each other’s eyes. Lily was looking at them in slight shock, but she pushed it away instantly to give them both an unusually warm smile.

“Hi,” she said, a little waveringly, then turned to nudge Snape away. Snape was staring at them with dawning realisation. Then his eyes locked onto Sirius, and the threat blazing inside them made his blood run cold.

*

They passed Snape coming out from dinner that night. James hurled a predictable insult as they walked by, laughed with Peter and then carried on back to Gryffindor Tower. Sirius ignored Snape, following after them, but was stopped by a vicious grab to his arm.

“If I hear one more word from your friends,” Snape hissed in his ear. “I’m going straight to your brother. See how much of a joke it is when your parents find out you’re kissing boys.”

Sirius felt more terrified than he ever had in his life. “Go fuck yourself, Snape,” he managed to throw out, before ripping his arm from his grip and practically running across the Great Hall and all the way to Gryffindor Tower. He ignored his friends when he walked across the Common Room, and went straight to their dorm where he climbed into bed with clothes still on, yanked the curtains closed and lay under the covers, shaking.

He heard footsteps coming up the stairs, about ten minutes later. He thought it must be James, coming as usual to check in on him during one of his moods, but as soon as the footsteps reached the door, he knew he was wrong.

Remus quietly opened and shut the door behind him, then made his way over to Sirius’s bed. He gently pulled the curtains apart, but Sirius refused to look at him, staying curled up silently facing the other way.

Remus sat down on the bed.

“Sirius,” he said quietly.

“Please leave me alone,” Sirius said coldly.

“No,” Remus replied in that calm, firm voice that seemed only possible for him.

“Moony fuck off,” Sirius said more angrily.

“No,” Remus said again. “You’re not okay, and I’m worried. Tell me what happened, and then I’ll leave.”

“I’m just tired,” Sirius said, although the fight was leaving him.

“No, you’re not.”

Sirius pulled the duvet tighter. Remus waited.

“Snape is going to tell Regulus,” Sirius said in a small voice. Remus took a sharp intake of breath.

“Fuck,” he said. “Fuck.”

Sirius turned around, finally looking at Remus. His eyes were wide with terror, and his whole face was pale despite the stifling heat under the duvet.

“They’re going to kill me, Moony,” he whispered.

“No,” said Remus, with that same firm tone, even as his voice wavered. “We won’t let that happen.”

“You can’t stop —”

“We will.”

Sirius wanted to believe him, he did. But the terror that had risen in him had drawn out his earliest, most inherent defence mechanism – that he had to protect himself from his family, because absolutely no one would be there to help him. No one could protect him when he was inside the walls of Grimmauld Place. He was alone in this, as he always was back there.

*

Perhaps if it hadn’t been a full moon the next night, things would have gone differently. If they’d been out with Remus, the four of them together. If Sirius hadn’t been so sick with terror and James hadn’t been actually sick that Remus had insisted he wether this moon alone. Maybe the four of them would have beaten Snape up, or scared him so much he’d never leave his room, let alone speak to Regulus. But that wasn’t what happened. Sirius, absolutely manic with fear and unable to form a single coherent thought, snatched at the first thing he knew would absolutely terrify Snape.

He sent the note in an owl, because there was no way Snape would believe it if it was from him. The reference to the full moon would lure him in, and he could make himself known after Snape had run terrified from the Whomping Willow. He would never whisper a word, after that.

Sirius didn’t find out until years later that it was Lily who told James. That Snape couldn’t keep the knowledge of he was about to discover to himself, and that Lily, suspecting this was a Marauder prank, ran straight to James to get him to call it off. And that Lily, when James had gone pale with terror and begged her never to tell anyone about this, had kept the secret of three boys she at that point despised.

“What the fuck were you doing, Sirius?” James demanded in such a cold fury Sirius genuinely stopped walking.

“Prongs, listen to me —”

“No, you listen!” James says, holding a finger as he walked away from the Whomping Willow where he had dragged Snape from moments ago. “He nearly fucking died, alright? He nearly fucking died at the hands of our friend. How could do you that to Moony?! How could you betray him like that?!”

“James, I —” he cried. “I didn’t mean for him to die! I just wanted to scare him! I thought he’d see Moony and he’d run —”

“He was at the bloody gate!” screamed James. “He was outside the fucking gate, Sirius! I had to drag him from it because he was fucking frozen in terror when he saw the goddamn werewolf at the end of the tunnel!”

“They were going to kill me, James!” Sirius shrieked, tears streaming down his face. “He was going to tell my family and they were going to kill me!”

“What the fuck – tell them what?” James said, his eyes still flashing but his anger dimmed slightly from shock.

“That I’m gay James,” he sobbed. “He knows, he saw me and – he told me he’s going to tell them!”

Sirius brought a hand up to his throat as the sobs fully overtook him, turning away from James as he cried.

“Sirius, you should have fucking told me,” James said, walking towards him. “You should have fucking told us. Not this. This is insane.”

“I know,” said Sirius. “I know. I fucked up, and I can’t believe I did this to Moony, and he’s never gonna forgive me —” Sirius broke off again, absolutely distraught.

“Look, Pads, we can’t think about that right now. Snape said he was going straight to Dumbledore, and we’ve gotta tell him it wasn’t Moony’s fault, he can’t get in trouble for this. And if Snape fucking realises it was him and starts telling people…”

James trailed off, and even in the darkness Sirius could see the fear in his eyes. He felt nausea rise in his throat. He could have ruined Moony’s whole life, in just one night.

“Come on,” James said, and they hurried up to the castle.

In the end, Dumbledore had deduced exactly what had happened before Sirius even opened his mouth.

“It wasn’t Moon- Remus’s fault, professor,” Sirius said desperately.

“I am quite sure of that, Mr. Black,” Dumbledore said gravely. “I cannot imagine Mr. Lupin putting both his own safety and that of a fellow student’s in such danger.” Sirius felt like his shame would swallow him whole.

“Professor,” James said quietly. “Does Snape know the werewolf was Remus?”

“Mr. Snape does not. He does, however, strongly suspect,” Dumbledore told them. Sirius’s hand came up to cover his face. “I have impressed upon him the vital need to keep this a secret, and I am confident he will do so.”

“He won’t!” cried Sirius, his arms flying up in anger. “He’s going to tell everyone! He’s going to ruin his life!”

Dumbledore surveyed him calmly. “I assure you, Mr. Black, that Mr. Snape will not be betraying Mr. Lupin’s secret.” He said it in a mild tone, but with such a threatening light in his eyes that Sirius felt a shiver run through him.

“I am going to suggest, given that OWLs are less than two weeks away, and that Mr. Lupin no longer faces danger from this incident, that we postpone informing him of what occurred last night until after exams. I would not wish any extra worries right now to affect his performance.” James and Sirius nodded.

“Mr. Potter, you seem to be in need to a trip to Madam Pomfrey,” Dumbledore said to James, whose mild cold symptoms seemed to have escalated dramatically in the last hour. He cast a nervous glance at Sirius. “I wish to speak to Mr. Black for just a moment, if you don’t mind.” Sirius swallowed. James cast him an apologetic glance, then headed out the office.

Sirius didn’t dare look at Dumbledore. He just hung his head, ready to hear the expulsion he knew was coming.

“Sirius,” Dumbledore began, and then sighed. “I am well aware that you understand the severity of your actions this evening. It is profoundly shocking that you would put your closest friends in such danger, and it is distinctly out of character. I would like to, therefore, inquire as why these events occurred.”

Sirius was silent, still staring that at the floor. His face was contorted in a frown of shame and fear.

“Sirius,” Dumbledore said again. “Please.”

He had no other option. Sirius looked up, and saw Dumbledore’s eyes were not angry, but round with concern.

“He was going —” Sirius’s voice cracked. “He was going to tell my family something about me. Something… something bad.”

“Something that put you in danger?” Dumbledore asked carefully.

Sirius nodded, tears pricking in his eyes. “I know… I don’t have any words, for how awful it was. I can’t believe I did it. I just wanted to – I just wanted to scare him, so he wouldn’t say anything.”

“That fear itself is understandable. The actions, nonetheless, are not.”

His words struck something raw in Sirius, and a sudden fury roared in him at Dumbledore’s audacity to judge from such a position of power and ignorance.

“How would you know?!” he shouted. “You have no idea what they’d do to me! You have no idea what it’s like!” Sirius brought an arm up to his mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that were suddenly breaking out.

Dumbledore waited until he’d calmed down. “You are quite correct, Sirius. I have no idea what you are subject to. But I do have a very good idea of the fear you feel.”

Sirius looked up at him, frowning in confusion. He wanted to be angry, at Dumbledore minimising him once again, but there was something in this voice, like he knew.

Dumbledore was looking at him like he saw straight through him. It wasn’t like Remus, or even James. It was with a calm, but broken-hearted understanding of the deepest secret Sirius held. Sirius stared at him in shock. He couldn’t mean… he couldn’t.

“I cannot tell you that the fear will go away,” Dumbledore said gently. “Only that, at some point, you will have enough freedom and control over your own destiny it will disappear into but a quiet murmur. And just as importantly, you will have the chance for joy and happiness that only true companionship will bring.” Dumbledore paused, smiling softly at him. Sirius felt the wild urge to deny something he hadn’t been accused of, but the look in Dumbledore’s eyes was full of such genuine compassion Sirius thought he might burst into tears again.

“I therefore implore you, Sirius, not to let your fear push those companions away before it is too late.”

Sirius nodded. He didn’t say another word as Dumbledore informed him he would be in detention for the rest of the school year, that his family would not be written to, and that he would be expected on the Hogwarts Express on the 1^st of September. He didn’t say anything, for the rest of the day. He just sat, hiding somewhere even Remus and James couldn’t find him, crying softly to himself.

*

June 1976

Sirius had had the plan since third year. James had called him in the mirror over Christmas break – he’d always tried to avoid speaking to him when he was home, but there was an urgency in his voice he couldn’t ignore.

“Mate,” he said, looking absolutely distraught. “I just found out Evans is going out with Osgood from Hufflepuff.”

“What?!” Sirius said, summoning as much outrage as he could although he had no clue who this Osgood chap was.

“I know, I can’t fucking believe it,” he said, his eyes red and watery. “He’s on the Quidditch team, too! He’s their keeper!”

“Oh yeah,” Sirius said, recalling the thickset blonde boy a year above them. He wasn’t unattractive, if you liked that sort of thing. He was just a bit too put together, with perfectly smooth hair and symmetrical, almost boring face. Sirius was always drawn to boys with something behind their eyes, with some kind of promise of mystery, like a secret they had he wanted to learn.

At least, those were the boys he thought girls should like. He just wanted to be their friend.

“Mate, he’s a real tosser,” Sirius insisted, then flinched, glancing round at his door as if expecting his parents to burst in at him swearing. When he looked back, James was frowning at him.

“Did you cut yourself?” he asked. “That looks pretty rough.”

Sirius blinked, then his hand flew up to the side of his cheek. “Oh. Yeah. I was just… moving some stuff around in my room.”

James’s frown deepened. Sirius cursed himself for how fucking bad he’d got at lying to James.

“Do you need… do you want to come stay with us, for while?” James asked quietly.

Sirius’s face coloured as shame flooded him. “No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “No, it’s fine. It’s barely happens. It was just… it was just a bad moment.”

James bit his lip, looking like he was repressing the need to push further. He couldn’t resist trying to save people all the time, bloody idiot.

“If you – if you need a break, for a couple of days, just give me a call, okay?” he said carefully. “Just a change of scenery, you know? Sure it gets stuffy up in London, and Mum would love to see you.” He gave Sirius a slightly sad grin, and Sirius managed a watery smile in return.

“Yeah. Sure. Of course.”

They never talked about it again. Then, at some point late in Spring, Sirius got a howler about some muggle books Kreacher had found in his room whilst cleaning. Remus had got them for him, knowing how fascinated he was by all the ways muggles travelled around without magic.

“The audacity of bringing this filth into the house! Besmirching our walls with mudbloods! You are a disgrace to the very name of Black!”

Sirius shrugged it off, pretending like he wasn’t bothered in the slightest.

“Know I’ve really pissed her off when she sends a howler,” he told Mary, Dorcas and James who were sitting around him at the breakfast table, with a grin that didn’t quite meet his eyes. James was watching him carefully, and Sirius avoided his gaze. But once they were out of the hall, and the two of them alone, he told James in a low angry mutter, “I’m getting out of there. As soon as I’m out of school. Maybe sooner, if I can. Seventeen. I’m of age then.” He puffed up his chest, trying to feel stronger than he was.

“We’ll get a place together, mate,” James told him seriously. “The minute we can. You and me. It’ll be great.” Sirius looked over at him, and the smile James wore completely eclipsed the anxiety gnawing away at his chest.

They held onto it, like a prayer, in all the years after. Every time Regulus would pass on an angry message from his mother,  or Sirius would call James up ranting about the latest pureblood mania his parents were spouting, or when he would return after the holidays, pale and broken for the first day, they’d remind each other of the promise.

“We should get somewhere in London, somewhere cool,” James said.

“Yeah, like the East End, or something. That would really piss them off.”

Sirius clutched that promise close to him as the family driver pulled up to 12 Grimmauld Place in June after his fifth year. He hadn’t heard anything from his family since Snape caught him and Remus. He assumed that either he hadn’t said anything, or he had and his family were waiting to deal with him at home.

Sirius swallowed.

His parents were nowhere to be seen until one of the house elves called him down to dinner. They sat, silent and haughty always, when he walked in, and surveyed him with casual indifference.

Dinner began with the usual praise of Regulus at his achievements, and admonishing of Sirius on his failures. Then he faced a familiar lecture on expectations, with the added twist of choosing “appropriate” NEWT subjects.

“Muggle studies is off the table, then?” Sirius said dryly, unable to resist. His father’s face turned to stone.

“I would also like to remind you,” he said coldly. “That you will be expected to become engaged this year.”

Sirius looked up sharply. His heartrate had suddenly rocketed – was this it?

“We, obviously, do not have any faith in your ability to choose an appropriate woman,” Sirius’s mother said in a poisonous voice. “You will be meeting with several this summer, for their families to decide whether they would be happy with a match. You will therefore be expected to leave your abdominal behaviour behind, and uphold this family’s honour.”

Sirius was silent.

“If you do not, then you will be disinherited,” his father said simply. Sirius’s eyes snapped to him, and saw they were filled with more threatening distain than he had ever experienced before. It wasn’t just disinheritance he was threatening – Sirius understood that. He nodded, looking back down, and did not say a single word for the rest of the meal.

*

The first weeks of summer passed quietly, after that. He got endless letters from James, a good handful from Peter, and even several from Marlene. Those were particularly rude, and made Sirius grin broadly.

Marlene would be respectable, he thought. Her parents were a witch and wizard. They weren’t part of the sacred twenty-eight, but they weren’t famously friends with muggles, either. They were good friends. She made him laugh, and took the piss out of him, and they always had fun when they were together. That was good enough, right?

The only person he didn’t hear from was Remus.

Sirius tried not to think about it, but it was impossible when his heart was so raw it was as if someone had carved his chest open. Following Dumbledore’s suggestion, they had not spoken to Remus until after OWLs were over. This had eaten away at James, who couldn’t bear keeping secrets from his friends. But he understood, too, it wasn’t for them – it was the worst possible news Remus could get before his exams, and nobody cared more about those exams than he did.

Remus didn’t speak to James for several days after they told him, until he got over the anger of being kept in the dark, and acknowledged the news would probably have ruined his exam performance. Sirius he didn’t speak to at all – not during the end of year banquet, or the much more raucous Gryffindor party afterwards. Not when they all sat together on the train home, or said goodbye at King’s Cross. As the days at Grimmauld Place ticked by, Sirius began to think Remus would never speak to him again.

It didn’t matter how ever many times James reassured him Remus would forgive him eventually, or even Dumbledore’s vague allusions to some idyllic future he could anticipate. Sirius knew his life was over. Remus was gone – Sirius had lost him, and he was never ever again going to experience a joy so strong it seemed like it could conquer the whole world. He was going to be bound to some pureblood woman and her family by the end of the summer, and would be trapped in this world forever.

Sirius grew progressively more depressed, barely leaving his room, until one rainy Thursday morning a familiar owl rapped its beak on the window. Sirius ran to pull it open, and the owl hopped in, hooting disgruntledly as it shook its soaking feathers.

“Faith,” he gasped. “What are you doing here?”

Remus’s owl looked up at him judgementally, and held out her leg. Sirius untied a small roll of parchment, carefully wrapped up in leather, then unrolled it.

Dear Padfoot,

Prongs explained to me that you were trying to stop Snivellus. Please don’t yell at him – I asked, and I didn’t stop asking until he gave me an answer. Once I’d had some time to calm down at home, I realised how closely the moon fell after that day at the willow tree, and I took my suspicion that you were being threatened to Prongs. I didn’t say exactly what about, and he didn’t push me even when I understood that he knew the truth. I know I’ve said it many times before, but he is a truly astounding friend.

I don’t forgive you for what happened, but I do understand. Maybe at some point I’ll get to forgiveness, but for now, I’d like to be friends again, if you are willing.

Moony

Sirius read the letter five times over before he put it down.

*

They exchanged letters every day, after that. At the start, they mostly just talked about simple things – how exams went, how their holidays were going, what subjects they planned to take for NEWTs. Soon they slid quickly into familiar jokes, and the letters became longer and more detailed. The warmth between them grew, and it started to feel like Remus really was going to forgive him. Sirius was just glad to have his friend back, and forced himself to be content with that. He pushed away any thoughts of everything they had been building to during fifth year – tried to forget all the afternoons they’d spent alone, the secret jokes they’d shared with just a look at each other, the way Sirius would rest his hand on Remus’s arm in the middle of an exercise in class, and Remus would smile back at him like Sirius had gifted him the entire world. He tried to forget the realisation that he knew – he knew what he wanted – and he knew Remus did too.

It was all going so well, perfectly fine, until Remus slipped an unexpected comment into the end of his letter.

I’m sure you’re looking forward to using your new free periods for Marauders-related mischief, but perhaps I could persuade you to enjoy some mischief of just our own?

Sirius’s heart hammered in his chest. He couldn’t mean – could he?

He read the letter at least thirty times over before replying. He desperately wished there was someone he could ask, but this wasn’t something he felt he could talk about with James. And besides – Moony was James’s friend too, and he didn’t want to betray his confidence by sharing their secrets. Sirius thought vaguely of Marlene, who he knew would have reliable advice – but he didn’t know how to explain his question without giving everything away.

Some mischief of just our own.

Sirius sucked on his lip, a rush of desire running through him. Remus never lied – he avoided sharing things with people he didn’t wish to be vulnerable around, but he would never pretend something was or wasn’t true just to hurt someone. He didn’t manipulate, or tiptoe around what he meant. Sirius knew his words were exactly what they appeared to be. Which meant… he still felt… he still wanted…

Moony, your powers of persuasion have always been unmatched. What do I have to look forward to?

I’ve heard there are willow trees growing in the Room of Requirement, if you’re interested.

I won’t be able to think about anything else all summer. I still can’t stop thinking about that day under the first one – can you?

Sirius never found out the answer. Luna, his own owl, had mistakenly believed him to be in the drawing room with his family when she arrived back. He had been, just moments before, but had excused himself briefly to go to the bathroom, trying to calm the rising panic he was feeling faced with the woman and her family currently sitting waiting in the drawing room.

When he got back, his father was wrenching a letter from Luna’s foot.

“This wretched owl! Vermin!”

“No!” Sirius cried, rushing forward to Luna.

“It should never interrupt us like this!” he spat, finally freeing Luna of the letter. She was wincing, hopping on her other foot.

“Father, please!” Sirius cried, as his father picked up Luna and hurled her back out the window. Sirius ran to it, and saw Luna quickly catch herself in the air, then fly off with a fearful hoot over the rest of Grimmauld Place and away behind the rooftops.

“What is the meaning of this, Sirius?!” his father demanded, and Sirius whirled back round. He saw, with absolute terror, that his father was holding a letter in his hand. A letter he knew must be from Remus. A letter he knew would contain something that would be clear to anyone who read it.

“It’s… it’s just from one of my friends,” he said, stepping forward with an outstretched hand. His father glared, and tucked the letter in his pocket. He turned back to the Avery family, apologised for the disturbance, and the meeting continued. Sirius did not hear a single word – all he could think about was getting the letter back from him before he could read it.

The Avery’s left an hour later. As soon as the door closed, his father turned to glare at menacingly at him. His mother was sitting on the sofa nearby, eyes narrowed.

“Did I not say,” he said, in terrifying quietness. “That you were to have a sense of decorum? To show this family some respect?”

“Father, I’m sorry —” said Sirius, trying desperately not to show any fear. “It won’t happen again.”

His father’s lips curled slightly, like a predator who had just found its prey trapped in a corner.

“What, I pray ask, is of such importance in this letter?”

“Nothing,” said Sirius quickly. His father raised an eyebrow.

“I think,” he said, pulling the letter out from his jacket. “That I will be the judge of that.”

Sirius felt the blood pounding in his ears as his father ripped open the seal, unrolled the parchment, and began to read.

His expression was impenetrable. Not a single muscle in his face moved, except for the tiny swivel of his eyes across the page. When he looked up at Sirius, they were entirely empty.

“An abomination,” he whispered. Sirius shook, barely able to breathe. “You are not worth the air you breathe.”

His mother was now standing behind him, and he thrust the letter to her without so much as turning his head. His eyes stayed fixed on Sirius as his mother read the letter too, then looked up at Sirius with nothing less than pure disgust.

“What sick, vile, disgrace have you brought upon us?!” she screamed, throwing the letter at him. “You dishonourable, odious boy!”

“Who else knows about this?” demanded his father, stepping towards him.

“No one – no one, I —” said Sirius desperately, taking a step back. His father slapped him.

“Who else?!”

“No one!” he cried.

“Do you understand the shame you have brought upon our family?” he yelled.

“You have tried to besmirch us,” his mother said viciously, nodding to herself as she walked towards him. “You’re trying to ruin us!”

“No, I swear —” Sirius said. Where was his wand? Why didn’t he have his wand?

“You want to tear the very walls of this house down with your depravity!” his mother screamed. “You do not deserve the name of Black!”

A lamp from the table across the room hurtled towards him, and he instinctively ducked.

“This will not stand, Sirius!” his father shouted. The books flew off the bookcase. “Get out of my sight!”

Sirius ran for it, darting between falling books towards the door. He wrenched it open, and flew up three flights of stairs to his bedroom, where he slammed the door shut, panting. He grabbed the chair from his desk and rammed it up against the door handle, then buffeted his trunk against it too. It wouldn’t stop his parents for long, but it would buy him a few moments to grab his wand, at least.

Sirius took a shaky breath, trying to think through the panic. He needed to get out. He needed to escape this very minute.

“James, James I need help,” Sirius whispered frantically into his mirror.

James’s worried face appeared instantly “What’s happened? What do you need?” he asked urgently.

“My parents – they read one of Moony’s letters. And I know what he was going to write and… They know – my parents know. And they’re going to – I don’t know, but I think it’s going to be bad. I’m supposed to be marrying some Avery girl, and they’re furious, they think they’re going to find out about this somehow, and —” Sirius broke off, gasping. “James, I’m so scared.”

“We’re coming to get you,” James said firmly.

“How…? My parents will never let you through the door.”

“We’ll get out on my broom. I’ll use the invisibility cloak. Hang on, do you have your broom?”

“Yeah, it’s right here,” Sirius said, glancing at his Cleansweep Five leaning against the wall.

“Brilliant. I’ll fly up to the window, help you with your stuff and any wayward family members. Oh bollocks – okay, Dad will have to fly up instead, he’s the only one who can do the Feather-light charm.”

“James, what if they catch us?”

“Then we’ll defend you,” James said firmly. “Pack your stuff but stay safe. Grab what you need, we can buy the rest. We’ll be over in five minutes.”

“Okay,” Sirius said quietly.

“Okay,” James said confidently, gave him a reassuring smile, then disappeared.

Sirius took a shaky breath, then looked round at his room. What could he take with him? Clothes, he needed clothes. He got off the bed and walked to his wardrobe, grabbing his Hogwarts and Quidditch robes and threw them into the trunk. Then he dug out the few of his own clothes he’d managed to hide from his parents, and stuffed them in too. He’d buy everything else – he didn’t want to wear the clothes his parents forced on him every summer a moment longer.

Most of the stuff he wanted, he realised, was in his trunk anyway, buried in a false bottom. Photos of his friends, muggle books, old Christmas gifts, his Gryffindor scarf, and the letters Moony had been sending him all summer…

Sirius closed his eyes, forcing himself to stay calm. He grabbed his wand from his bedside table, and then sat on the windowsill, squinting out at the sky as he waited for James. He tried not to think about Luna and her injured leg. He hoped she wouldn’t come back here for him. Although he wasn’t sure if she’d come back for him at all.

Sirius heard a very faint crack, and started. He peered out the window, but he couldn’t see anybody outside. He kept looking, wondering if he’d misheard, when suddenly there as a loud tap at the window. Sirius jumped back in fright, whipping his wand out instinctively.

“Sirius!” came a voice from outside. “It’s Fleamont!”

“Oh!” he replied, then pulled the window open. “Sorry, Mr. Potter. Er, where are you?”

“I’m under the cloak,” he said quietly. “Can’t have any muggles catching me. Can you grab your trunk for me?”

“Yes, sorry,” Sirius said. He pulled his trunk as quietly as he good towards the window, praying his parents wouldn’t hear.

“Agilis,” came Mr. Potter’s voice, and a tiny gold spark bounced off his trunk. Sirius gave it a slight tug, and to his delight found it almost weightless.

“Okay, under here,” Mr. Potter said, lifting up his cloak with one hand, and then – with impressive coordination Sirius recognised from James – grabbed the trunk from Sirius in the other.

“I’ll be right back,” came a phantom voice, and then he was gone. Sirius stood outside the windowsill, glancing down at the road to see if his parents had appeared. Nothing. Then he attuned his ear to the house. Still nothing. His parents never bothered him unless they couldn’t help it, he reminded himself. But he was still waiting on tenterhooks for them to burst in, grabbing him by the wrist to inflict whatever punishment they’d decided on now.

“Alright, mate?” came James’s voice form outside. He lifted up the cloak and grinned at him from underneath.

“You’re insane,” laughed Sirius.

“Too bloody right! What kind of Marauder would I be otherwise? You got your broom?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, grabbing the broom from next to him, and tucking his wand in his pocket. “How we gonna do this, then?”

“Chuck it out here under the cloak,” James told him. “I’ll hold it steady, then get on as quick as you can and we’ll pray there’s no muggles glancing up at us.”

Sirius nodded. He took one more glance at the bedroom door, then pulled himself up onto the windowsill. His nerve wobbled slightly when he saw the drop underneath.

“Mum and Dad are standing by with their wands, in case something goes wrong,” James told him, as if reading his thoughts. Sirius held onto the window with one hand, grabbed his broom with another, then swung his leg over. It caught him with a familiar, reassuring jolt, and he wrapped both hands round the top instinctively. James’s cloak flittered down around him, and a laugh of relief bubbled up from his chest.

“Oh my god,” he said. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“I know, one for the books, for sure.”

They both tipped their brooms down ever so slightly, and slowly made their way towards the ground, the cloak dangling over them. The moment their feet hit the grey stone, they slid off their brooms, and hurtled towards the square where James’s parents were waiting. Under the cover of the trees they shrugged off the cloak, and Sirius looked round at them in disbelief. He glanced back at the house, still cold and silent, and felt a small surge of power he’d never known in his life.

“It’ll be okay, poppet,” Euphemia said to him, giving him a sympathetic smile. “Are you ready to leave? You’ve got everything?”

“Yeah, yeah I have,” Sirius told her.

“Alright. Take my arm, you can sidealong with me. Keep hold of that broom.” Sirius wrapped his arm round Euphemia’s, then before he’d had a moment to think, he was whisked away from Grimmauld Place for the last time in his life.

*

November 1981

Sirius was sat by James’s bedside, whispering in hushed tones in the darkness. They were all in St. Mungo’s – half the Order was, tonight. The ones that were lucky, anyway. Lily wasn’t asleep either. She was sitting by the window at the other end of the ward, shaking, clutching a sleeping Harry.

“I just can’t believe…” Sirius said in a dead voice.

“I know,” said James. His voice was hoarse from screaming. “I know.”

“I’m so… I’ll never forgive myself, James. Never.”

“It wasn’t your fault. We both agreed to switch it.”

“It is my fault,” Sirius insisted, fresh tears coming back to his eyes. “We would never have changed to Peter if I hadn’t convinced you. It should have been Moony, or it should still have been me…” Sirius broke off, muffled cries filling the silence.

“How could we ever have known it would be Pete?” James said, his voice cracking with grief.

“Because it could never have been Moony,” Sirius said brokenly. “It could never have been him. But I went mad, Prongs – I went totally mad, I was so scared. And just for a moment I thought – oh god. How could I?”

“Pads, please,” James said desperately. “Please don’t. This isn’t your fault. We’re in hell. How can any of us know what’s real?”

Sirius was inconsolable, shaking his head in his hands until the sun came up on a world he didn’t recognise.

*

The whole of the Wizarding World was in celebration, but the mood in the Potter household was sombre. James and Lily were still white with shock over how close they had come to losing their lives – to losing Harry. It was impossible for them to calm down from the months leading up to the battle, when it seemed as if every minute they were fighting to slip through Voldemort’s tightening grip. It had been 18 months of long terror from the moment Dumbledore explained the prophecy to them, and they were forced to wait on tenterhooks to see if it referred to Harry, hidden away in Godric’s Hollow. Then devastating horror when Harry was born three weeks early, on the last day of July, Lily sobbing with grief when it should have been with joy.

Sirius had had two months with his godson, bouncing the tiny, laughing baby boy on his knees whilst Lily and James glowed, just for a moment, with happiness.

“You’re a natural,” Remus said softly, bumping his leg gently against Sirius’s. He turned to look at Remus for a moment, and saw his small, proud smile. Sirius beamed.

“He’s perfect,” Sirius said, looking back at Harry. “He’s so smart, look! Harry, Harry follow my finger!”

Sirius waved his finger slowly in front of Harry, who did in fact follow it perfectly with his eyes.

“He is smart,” agreed Remus, with a smile in his voice. “Perhaps he’ll be in Ravenclaw?”

“Nonsense,” said Sirius, smoothing down Harry’s crimson and gold babygro.

That was all until Snivellus had come, begging at Dumbledore’s feet to be given a second chance, all hinging on his claim that Harry was being specifically targeted by Voldemort. There was silence from the Potters, after that. No visits, no owls, no floo appearances. The most they got was rushed conversations in his and James’s mirrors, between Sirius’s frantic missions with the Order to try and head Voldemort off and buy them time – hoping they could somehow, almost impossibly it seemed, defeat him.

Sirius couldn’t put a finger on when it changed – when he stopped being able to sleep; when he and Remus know longer knew what to say to each other, and could only lie awake with their hands tightly clasped; when the sporadic drip drip drip of setbacks became a flood they could not ignore, and it was clear someone amongst them was a traitor; when Sirius, mad with fear, no longer knew what was real and what were paranoid tricks from his mind. Just at some point, they all knew the game was coming to an end, that they could no longer hold Voldemort back, and James and Lily had to disappear entirely from the world – waiting for what, nobody knew.

Sirius hadn’t seen his best friends in over a year, by October. He had barely stayed still from one moment to the next, rushing from warzone to warzone with a mania he had never known in his life. One day blurred into the next, like a waking nightmare where every single person around him could be an enemy.

Even now, lying on his bed in the Potter’s Hampshire farmhouse, he could barely piece together what had happened. Where the pain and bitterness that Remus was somehow not there for him emerged from – he was always gone, just like Sirius, except somewhere through the nights he had spent sobbing on their sofa alone, it felt like it was Remus’s fault. That he didn’t understand that Sirius needed him, because as horrific as this was for Remus, James was his brother – the only family he had ever known was being dangled over a cliff and he needed Remus here, arms wrapped around him, letting him cry into his shoulder. Sirius couldn’t comprehend why he wasn’t. He was so far beyond any emotional regulation that all he could understand was that Remus wasn’t there when he should have been, that he never tried to do anything different, never tried to apologise or acknowledge what Sirius was going through, so much so it could only have been deliberate. Remus was no longer Remus – he would never betray him like this. He wasn’t someone Sirius knew anymore.

“We need to switch Secret Keepers,” Sirius told James frantically.

“Why, what’s happened?” James said.

“I think he’s onto me. I think – I think whoever’s the spy will have told him it’ll be me. I’m the first person they’ll suspect.”

James looked at him carefully. “Padfoot… we can ask Dumbledore. You don’t have to sacrifice yourself for us.”

“I don’t care about dying!” Sirius said angrily, waving an agitated, dismissive hand. “But if I do, everyone I’ve told becomes a Secret Keeper! Think of how many people in the Order know where you’re hiding. If one of them’s the spy… they’ll go straight to Voldemort.”

Lily had lost every ounce of colour from her face. “Okay,” she said quietly, nodding. “So let’s switch to Dumbledore.”

Sirius shook his head. “No, that’s too obvious too. We need someone they’d never suspect.”

“Moony?” suggested James. Sirius shook his head ahead. “He’s probably further down the list than Moody or McGonagall, and he can duel better than any of us.”

“No,” said Sirius quickly, almost angrily. James blanched. “No,” Sirius said again, trying to sound calmer. “It’s – it’s still too obvious. It should be Pete.”

“Peter?” said Lily in surprise, her eyes wide with concern.

“No one will ever suspect him,” Sirius said adamantly. “He can stay with me at your old house, I can protect him, make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

James looked at Lily, both of them frowning.

“Are you sure about this, Pads?” James asked him quietly.

“No – I’m not sure about anything anymore,” Sirius admitted desperately. “But I know he’s gonna come for me, I know it. And we know – we know there’s someone…” Sirius broke off, as they all looked numbly at each other, unable to voice the depths of their despair.

“I think you’re right,” Lily said, with a scared but resolute nod. “No one would suspect it would be Peter.”

“We need to find another place,” James said firmly. “Somewhere no one else in the Order knows about.”

“Okay, but until then — ” Sirius began.

“Until then, let’s ask Pete.”

*

There were endless Order meetings and debriefings with the Ministry after the battle. Everything had happened so quickly, and the outcome so impossible, they were all still trying to piece together what happened.

“Mr. Black, you are the one who notified the Order, who subsequently informed the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was aware of Mr. and Mrs Potter’s location, and was on his way to their house with the intent of committing murder, am I correct?”

“Yes.”

“Can you explain to us again how exactly you came to have this information?”

Sirius frowned, his left eye twitching slightly. “I was living with Peter Pettigrew in this house. I came home after Order business to find him gone,” Sirius said, in a calm but monosyllabic voice. “As neither of us can leave the house at the same time, I knew something had happened. I contacted Albus Dumbledore immediately, and we quickly came to the conclusion that Peter had either been captured by Voldemort —” The Ministry official gave a sharp intake of breath “— or he was the spy we had been suspecting. Peter was the Secret Keeper for Godric’s Hollow, so we were worried…” Sirius trailed off for a moment, swallowing hard. “We knew James and Lily were in danger.”

 “So you alerted the Order based on a hunch, am I correct?”

“Yes.”

“A hunch that turned out to be entirely accurate?”

“Yes.”

The Ministry official nodded, several other officials and assistants behind him scribbling down information. James, the only other person allowed in the interrogation – interview, Sirius reminded himself darkly – was pacing in the corner, nervously biting his fingers.

“I understand, thank you Mr. Black. I appreciate that you have now recounted this story multiple times.” Sirius nodded politely, repressing the inner urge to upend the coffee table in front of them. “Nonetheless, I am still curious as to why Mr. Pettigrew was entrusted with this information when he was apparently known to be both unreliable and unable to effectively defend himself. Why, if you were seeking to protect Mr. and Mrs. Potter, was someone less, er, unsuitable, not chosen for the task?” He asked the question innocently enough, but there was a heavy note of suspicion in his voice, and a twist to his smile like he had caught Sirius in his talons.

“I persuaded them,” Sirius said simply. “I thought Pete would be safer from suspicion than I would. It was my fault.”

“That’s not true,” James said instantly, stepping towards the sofas.

“James, don’t,” Sirius said sharply.

“We both agreed,” James told the Ministry officials, looking back at Sirius with the same mixture of anger, frustration and pleading he’d always had whenever Sirius was about to do something desperately stupid.

“Yes, because I persuaded you. You didn’t want to. I was there,” Sirius said, more loudly. The tenuous grip on his control was slipping.

“Because we didn’t want to get Pete killed!” James shouted. “We knew he couldn’t defend himself like you could! But what you said made sense, and we thought it was the right thing to do. We trusted him, too,” he said, heartbroken.

The meeting broke up quickly after that. There were many more in the next few weeks, but none of them conducted with any suspicion of Sirius.

*

Sirius had barely seen Remus since he arrived at the battle with the rest of the Order. He was one of the few not injured, and therefore whisked away by Dumbledore, Moody and the Ministry to figure out an emergency protection plan for the Potters. He sent an owl to St. Mungo’s, full of such raw emotion Sirius couldn’t get through the first sentence without crying. But they didn’t see each other until Sirius was released on November 2, when he came home late at night to find Sirius curled up on the sofa under a blanket, clutching at a cup of tea.

“Hey,” Remus said, rushing over to him. He collapsed on the sofa and pulled Sirius into his arms.

“Moony,” whispered Sirius sadly, wrapping his arms round Remus’s waist and leaning against his shoulder.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Remus said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “My god. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” Sirius said, then looked up at Remus. “I couldn’t see you in the battle, and I was worried…”

“It’s fine, I was fine,” Remus told him, running a hand down his cheek.

“All the Death Eaters, and people were falling everywhere…” Sirius broke off with a small cry.

“I know,” Remus said, his own eyes welling up. “I felt like it was a nightmare come true, seeing him walk towards their house.”

Sirius shook his head, biting his lip. “I can’t believe Pete — ”

It was too much – it was too much to talk about, and all they could do was cling together and cry.

They sat like that for what felt like hours, until at some point they crawled into bed, and didn’t move for a day. Eventually Sirius got up and made them some tea, then they sat in bed talking about the Order’s plans for Lily and James.

“Their home is as protected as it can be, and Dumbledore’s Secret Keeper,” Remus said. “There’s going to be an Auror guard rotating as well.”

“Do the Ministry have any new information?”

“They’ve rounded up a couple, already,” Remus told him. “But none we think are taking the lead.”

“Bet it’s my fucking cousin,” Sirius said in disgust. Remus ran a hand over his leg, squeezing it slightly.

“Whoever it is, they’re not getting to Lily, James or Harry,” he reassured him. “They’re protected there, okay?”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, then, after a pause, “I’m – I’m going to stay there too.”

“Okay,” Remus said quietly, with a nod. He looked upset, but understanding.

“I just need to make sure they’re safe, after…”

“I know,” Remus told him with a soft smile, and squeezed his hand.

Then after that it was days of meetings and interviews and reports at the Potter’s house, whilst Remus was away on Order business trying to find any trace of Peter. There were now dozens of Aurors on the hunt for him, but no one beyond the Order knew about Peter’s status as an Animagi. Perhaps they would have to confess that, at some point, but it would hardly do any good today. How did even the Order stand a chance of tracking down a small brown rat?

James and him spent hours talking about Pete – whilst cleaning up the house which had been left dusty for the 18 months they’d been living at Godric’s Hollow, or playing with Harry whilst Lily was in Order meetings, or sitting in the garden with a couple of beers in the evening, James desperate to get some fresh air when he could – still – not leave his house. Sirius had come to a reluctant agreement that they were both responsible for trusting Peter, which did nothing to alleviate the guilt gnawing away at him, but at least stopped any increasingly self-righteous speeches from James. What was his to bear alone, though, was his betrayal of Remus.

James hadn’t brought up what he’d said that night in St. Mungo’s – Sirius wasn’t even sure he’d been fully conscious, let alone remembered it. But after ten days of hammering out every tiny detail of how Peter had led them so astray and where they should have seen the signs and was this always inevitable – Sirius couldn’t hold himself back from confessing (again) to James.

“I thought it was Moony,” he said so quiet it was almost a whisper, as they sat in the garden one evening. The sky was a dusty pink, slowly fading into deep blue, and the waxing moon was emerging above them. Sirius wondered where Remus would be spending the full moon – would he be home? Would he be alone in a forest somewhere?

“Yeah?” James said softly, like he already knew.

“Yeah,” Sirius said, and took a sip of his beer.

“Did you tell him that?”

“No.”

There was a long pause, as they both stared out at the darkening garden.

“I haven’t told him a lot, for a while. We barely – it got so bad, at the end, Prongs,” Sirius admitted. “I don’t know how. I never could have thought… we’ve been through everything together, you know? And then, suddenly, we weren’t going through this together. And I thought… I thought he had turned against me. And then I thought maybe he’d turned against all of us.”

James was silent for a moment, carefully taking all of this in.

“Did you believe what you thought?” he asked.

Sirius searched, deep inside the painful wound in his chest, for the answer. Did he? Did he look at Remus, and see a spy standing before him? Did he track his movements, catalogue their sporadic conversations, pull everything he could together to take to the Order? Was he prepared to sit down in front of them and accuse his partner of, what – five years? Did he truly believe that Remus could not be trusted, that he was sure to pass their secrets onto Voldemort, and that Peter was therefore the only option?

“I don’t know,” Sirius sighed. “I do know I really believed he had betrayed me.”

James nodded. “Did he betray you?” he asked, with no curiosity or accusation, just an opening for Sirius to try and understand his own feelings.

“Honestly, yeah. He just… stopped being there. And I don’t mean physically there. Christ. When was the last time we weren’t all separated by fucking Death Eaters?” he said with a bitter laugh, then sighed. “But it was like, that thing… knowing he’d be there, when I did see him again, that kept me going when I couldn’t. It just disappeared. He was just… a ghost.” Sirius bit his lip, running a hand agitatedly through his hair. “I know I’m an absolute piece of shit boyfriend —”

“Pads, shut up,” James said, sipping his beer. Sirius gaped slightly, then closed his mouth. “We can talk about all that other stuff, but I cannot sit a moment longer and hear this bullshit about how everything fucking horrific that happened is all your fault. It’s pretty fucking arrogant, to be honest,” said, with an attempt at cheekiness. Sirius managed a very small laugh, shaking his head. It was still hard, so hard, to be light hearted with the magnitude of suffering weighing them down.

“Yeah, alright you prick,” he said.

“There we go.” James took a last swig of his beer, then cracked the lid off another bottle. “Right. Start from the top. When did you both stop fucking talking to each other?”

*

Sirius stayed with James and Lily for another couple of months. It was partly Order protection, partly communal grief, and partly that he and Remus agreed they needed some space from each other whilst they tried to understand what happened.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Remus asked him, a few weeks after the battle when he and Sirius finally had a moment alone together in their flat.

Sirius couldn’t meet his eyes for a few moments. But he wasn’t a coward – and Remus had never given him less than the absolute truth.

“Because I thought you were the spy,” he told him simply, and felt his heart actually crumple in on itself with the layers of heartbreak that went through Remus’s eyes.

“How…” he whispered, shaking his head. “How could you?”

“Because you’d just gone, Moony,” Sirius said sadly. “You completely disappeared.”

“Because I had to —”

“I don’t mean Order shit,” Sirius said impatiently. “I mean you stopped talking, you stopped caring, you stopped giving a fuck about whether I was a wreck from seeing another fucking dead body in front of me, or my fucking brother and his wife and their kid on the run from a maniac – you just stopped!”

Remus was staring at him in shock, his whole face creased in hurt and incomprehension.

“How could you think I stopped caring?” he whispered.

Sirius bit his lip. “Because you stopped acting like you did.”

“So because I… because I stopped being able to comprehend any emotion beyond fear… you thought I’d betrayed our best friends? You thought I’d betrayed you?”

Sirius swallowed. “I know. I know that’s… I know.”

“I don’t think you do, Sirius,” Remus said quietly. “I don’t think you actually understand what was going through your head. I don’t understand what was going through mine.”

“Well tell me! I’m trying to understand.”

“I can’t, Sirius,” Remus said, shaking his head. “And I think right now… we’re not capable of having this conversation. We’re only going to say things we can’t ever recover from.”

Sirius frowned at him, panic rising in his chest as he felt Remus pull away. “Okay, well, let’s get some sleep.”

Remus looked at him sadly for a moment, like he desperately wanted to say something. Sirius wanted to reach out and hug him, to throw his arms around his neck and kiss him furiously, to bury his face in Remus’s chest – anything to make this cavernous gap between them disappear.

“Okay,” was all Remus said, and then he got up from the sofa.

“I’ll – I’ll sleep here,” Sirius said hesitantly. Remus looked back at him, nodded, then walked away.

James and Sirius had always had secrets – there had never been any competition between him and Remus, because they simply didn’t detract from either one another. The intimacy and trust and confidence that grew between him and Remus was something new and special that added to his life, and therefore could never replace any part of his relationship with James. But this – this is something the three of them should have shared. After what felt like a lifetime together, it was incomprehensible that he was left out.

So Sirius wondered how Remus tried to comprehend it.

*

They all spent Christmas together, at the Potters. Marlene and Dorcas came, showing off Marlene’s new engagement ring and bringing an enormous ham.

(“I won’t eat it, obviously, but Mum insisted I bring one,” Dorcas said. “She said it was what Christians ate at Christmas. I tried to tell her your traditions are more along the baileys and boozy pudding variety, but she didn’t listen.”)

Emmeline came too, half her head still covered in stitches. “My doctor says I’m not supposed to drink, but frankly that’s absolute bullshit,” she said, holding a large glass of mulled wine. Several other Order members appeared around lunch, each with copious amounts of food and alcohol, as well as presents for Harry. Mary was with her own family in London, but she popped by in late afternoon for some Christmas pudding and didn’t end up leaving until gone midnight.

It was loud, and raucous, and full of slightly too much alcohol and music to try and cover up the gaping holes in their group. Grief hung like a cloud over all of them. It always would, now. It’s simply not possible to go through that much loss, live in that much fear, see that much vicious, insatiable cruelty, and not carry around the kind of tragic sadness that comes from a greater awareness of what life is capable of. This close to the war, when they were largely still shell-shocked and the country was still not entirely in control of its territory, let alone moving forward to rebuild, sadness and fear still seeped through the windows, threatening to overcome them. But the knowledge that there was now hope it could get better helped keep it at bay, and they powered on.

It was 1am, and Sirius was standing in the kitchen slowly drying up dishes. Lily and James had gone to bed, after Sirius physically manhandled James up the stairs and reminded them they’d spent 18 hours awake hosting a houseful of guests. Marlene and Dorcas were in one of the spare rooms, and the house had gone peacefully silent. He had no idea where Remus was. He’d seen him watching him, his eyes growing steadily softer as the drunken card games wore on, and was hoping to catch him after – but then there was the ruckus of everyone saying goodbye and Sirius taking over the dishes before Lily actually fell asleep on her feet, and he had no idea where he’d gone.

Maybe it was for the best. It had been a nice day.

“Hey,” came Remus’s tired voice from behind him.

Sirius whipped round, spraying a few bubbles on the floor, to see Remus standing in the doorway. “Hey,” he replied, his whole face softening. He quickly dried his hands on the tea towel. “Pretty great day, huh?”

“The best we’ve had in a while, I’d say,” smiled Remus, moving towards him. “I think Harry loved that miniature Snitch.”

“Lily is gonna bloody kill me in a couple of days, I know it, but I couldn’t resist – he looks so cute! And he’s gotta start learning now, he can’t waste all that talent.”

“I didn’t realise you could detect Quidditch talent as young as two, but then, I suppose, I am hardly an expert.” Remus had a teasing twinkle in his eye that drew out a smile from Sirius.

“I dunno. I think you’ve picked up some tips over the years,” he said.

“High praise indeed.”

“Justified,” Sirius said with a shrug.

They stood watching each other for a moment with small smiles, trying to gauge what the other wanted to do.

“How are you feeling?” Remus asked.

“Tired. Full of turkey.” Remus raised an eyebrow, and Sirius smirked slightly, before his face become more vulnerable. “I miss you. Like I said.”

They’d been talking more and more, recently. They’d never not talked since Sirius had moved out, because they were still constantly in contact through Order business, and they tried as hard as possible not to make things awkward. Then, gradually, they’d go off on a walk together, after meetings, or down to the pub, and talk about as much as they could before it felt like it was all going to collapse in on them. Sirius went back home a few times, and they had dinner together. Over the past couple of weeks it felt like they’d reached a kind of stasis – where they both understood how their relationship could have broken down so much, and no longer turned to each other with anger or bitterness – but they hadn’t quite decided whether to take the leap and move forward together.

“Yeah. There’s a lot of that going around, I think,” Remus told him. Sirius looked down at his feet for a moment. Then, hesitantly, he held out his hand. Remus took it with a smile, winding their fingers together.

“Please come home,” Remus said, a little desperately.

“You want me to?”

“So much.”

Sirius’s lip wobbled a bit, and he gave Remus a soft smile. “I love you.”

“Yes, I know,” Remus said, pulling him towards him. “And I want to make this work, if you do.”

“Moony I – come on,” Sirius said, giving him a look.

“So that’s a yes.”

“Of course it’s a fucking yes. You’re my Moony,” he said emphatically.

Remus beamed, running a hand through Sirius’s hair. “I’ll never get tired of hearing that,” he said in a low voice.

“Well, lucky for you, I am very possessive,” Sirius replied, wrapping his arms around Remus’s neck. Remus quirked an eyebrow.

“I love you too, by the way,” he said, and leaned down to kiss Sirius with a truly aching warmth. “So much,” he murmured into his mouth. Sirius wound his arms tighter in response, and their kiss rolled slowly into an easy, dreamlike passion.

“Do you think it would be rude,” Remus said between kisses. “If we apparated home tonight, and came back in the morning?”

“God, no, I think they’d be relieved.”

Remus snorted, and Sirius grinned back, drawing a small gasp from Remus as he ran his finger nails lightly over the back of his neck. Remus gave him a slightly wicked look, and slid his hands down to Sirius’s hips to pull them tightly together.

“Fuck,” Sirius swore loudly, his head tipping forward onto Remus’s shoulder briefly. “Alright, let’s go. I dunno if even Prongs could forgive me for fucking you in his kitchen.”

*

May 1986

“Nervous?” James grinned, poking his head round the door.

“Mate, I think I might actually throw up,” Sirius said, smoothing down his shirt for the 100^th time that morning.

“Completely understandable,” James said, walking into the room. “But do you want to do it now? Because I brought you some champagne for the nerves. Would be a shame to waste it.”

Sirius grabbed the glass from his hand, and downed it in one smooth motion. “Okay,” he said, putting the glass down on the cabinet next to them. “I feel a little better.”

“That’s the spirit,” James said, clapping Sirius on the shoulder. “Now come here, your tie’s all wonky.”

“I know, I can’t fucking figure it out,” Sirius said, as James started undoing the untidy knot. “I shouldn’t have decided to bloody wear one. Everyone else is casual.”

“You’re the groom. You gotta look a bit fancy,” James told him, deftly re-doing his tie.

“Do you think it looks alright?” asked Sirius.

“Yeah, you look great.” He tightened the tie knot, patted him on the chest, then turned him towards the mirror. “See?” he said. Sirius surveyed the newly tied tie, thin, silky and black, contrasting nicely with his white shirt underneath and maroon velvet jacket on top. James was only wearing chinos and a blazer, his off-white shirt open casually at the top, but he was right – this was his day. Their day. He had to look good.

“You look great, Pads,” James told him, smiling at him in the mirror. “Really good.”

Sirius heaved a shaky sigh. “This is fucking insane,” he said quietly.

“Marriage? Yeah. Definitely.”

Sirius laughed. “How the fuck did you get through your wedding day?”

“You handing me drinks and taking the piss, mostly,” James shrugged. “And then I saw Lily in that white dress, and – well. That was it, really,” he said with a soppy grin. Sirius, realising that was going to be him in about twenty minutes, felt a nervous shiver go through him.

“It’s gonna be great. I promise,” James said, in a serious tone.

“Yeah,” said Sirius shakily, nodding.

“Alright. Now let’s get out there. Don’t wanna miss your own wedding, Moony might find someone else.”

“Nah, he’d never find head this good again,” Sirius smirked.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep it for the honeymoon,” James said, leading him out of the room.

*

The wedding was much bigger than he knew Remus would have chosen, if he could – probably about a hundred times bigger. It seemed like everyone they’d ever known wanted to come and celebrate. So many people they had risked everything with, and many more who were just happy to see some of the kids who got caught up in the war survive to live their life. It felt like half of Hogwarts had turned up, which Sirius thought was deeply ironic, considering how much time they’d spent hiding from their fellow students.

The wizarding world was so strange, sometimes. Full of so many prejudices woven into centuries of traditions they held onto with an iron grip. But then the inherent possibilities and eccentricities of magic – where the world was already one without limits; where you could bend it to your will in whatever way you wished, however your preferences and creativity dictated – meant that so many limitations muggles put on their ideas seemed ridiculous. If your neighbour’s house was built entirely of charmed-together pot plants, why would it be odd what gender the couple next door were?

It was optimistic to the point of delusion to think everyone would always hold this point of view. So many old families were steeped in ancient, un-wielding rules that attempted to preserve magic for just a select few – and any act outside of those rules was unacceptable. Even those closer to the muggle world held their own prejudices, as the muggle ones seeped into their perceptions.

But here, in James and Lily’s garden, with lanterns hanging round the trees, the loud buzz of hundreds of people chatting and laughing, and a long, narrow path making its way through the crowd to where his fiancé was waiting – nothing else but uncontrollable joy was possible.

They hovered just out of sight on the patio. Remus was already at the end of the aisle. The guests were seated. This was it – he was about to bloody marry Moony.

“I’ll hold you up if you faint, don’t worry,” Marlene told him, and Sirius managed a small laugh.

Euphemia and Fleamont had graciously volunteered to walk with him down the aisle, but a small part of him was uncomfortable with the idea – it wasn’t that they weren’t the closest he had to parents, or he was worried about stealing something for James (that was ridiculous). It was just… he had spent so long fighting to get out of the control of others, trying desperately to define himself outside of the framework he was forced into, carving a life for himself and Moony. He didn’t want anyone giving him away, as if he was moving from their life to someone else’s. This was already his life, and he was only here because he’d fought for it with his bare hands. He wanted it to be shared, marked and led by the friends who had stood alongside him whilst he’d done that.

“Yeah, Marls’ll catch you. Didn’t you see her carry Dorcas home the other night?” James grinned.

“I don’t know what to tell you – my wife simply cannot handle her booze. A little embarrassing really, for a rugby player, but I stepped up to the plate.”

“Honourable,” replied James.

They both turned to Sirius, who was rocking anxiously on the balls of his feet.

“Pads,” James said softly, touching his arm. Marlene tactfully moved away slightly, giving them a moment.

“I can’t believe we got here,” Sirius told him quietly.

“I’m so proud of you,” James said sincerely.

James pulled him into a hug, gripping him tightly in the way that had reassured Sirius for the last nineteen years. Except now, for once, it was over nothing bad. When they pulled away, Sirius wouldn’t be faced with cruelty and terror and uncertainty. It was just the blazing joy of finally, finally getting to have a happy, peaceful life with Remus. No hateful family members or cruel threats or existential terror from a decade-long war. Just peacetime, finally, with a life neither his family nor any bigoted bully could ever impinge on.

When James pulled back, his eyes were shining with tears. Then he clapped Sirius on the shoulder, and said, “I’ll see you up there.”

James was right, as it turned out. Every one of his nerves disappeared when he saw Remus standing under the small canopy, waiting patiently with the softest, most joyous smile imaginable gracing his face.

“Wasn’t sure if you’d turn up,” Remus teased quietly, when Sirius reached him. “Perhaps you’d had a better offer?”

“James suggested the same about you,” he said, taking Remus’s hands.

“Oh?”

“I told him I was pretty confident you didn’t. For reasons that can’t be uttered aloud in a place of such holiness.”

Remus snorted. “Well, I wouldn’t want to offend your traditional sensibilities.”

“I’ll show you all about traditional sensibilities later this evening,” Sirius said, with a mischievous grin. Remus smiled back, squeezing his hand.

“Alright, Potter, we doing this thing then?” Sirius said to James, standing slightly away from then.

“I bloody hope so, after all the fuss you’ve made,” he grinned, walking up to the canopy and standing behind them. He pulled out his wand, muttered a spell, and then addressed the crowd in his magically-enhanced voice.

“Alright! Honoured guests,” James began. “And those less honoured, but who we still love enough to invite,” he added, with a wink at Marlene, Dorcas and Mary sitting in the front row. “Let’s get this show on the road.”