Consumption

James sat across from him at the table, a file standing innocently in between them.

“James-”

“Please just take a look, Sirius.” James had requested the private meeting room for when he spoke to Sirius, not enjoying Snape hearing in on their every word. “Remus said that this one was different.”

The file stayed firmly closed. Sirius had been trying to distance himself from the FBI, it truly wasn’t good for him, especially right now. But as James sat across from him, a pleading look in his eyes, he couldn’t say no to his brother.

“The Artist?” Sirius asked as he pulled the file closer to him, the chain connecting his handcuffs to the table clanking together and echoing in the tiny room. James gave him a small nod, watching as Sirius prepared himself.

As he opened the file, he had to hold back a small gasp at the photo. He immediately recognized the painting it was based on, and he had to say, Remus went above and beyond with this one. The added touch of the pulled back eyelids to make the man truly look terrified was spectacular.

Sirius felt the familiar sense of longing creeping up his throat, and in a twisted sort of way, he didn’t want to tell James that this was Remus. It was a liberating feeling to know he was in on a secret, and he didn’t want to break the trust that the doctor had in him.

“He’s apologizing to me.” Sirius said under his breath, almost forgetting that James was in the room.

“Why?” James seemed almost surprised, and if Sirius himself wasn’t in a state of shock, he would’ve laughed at the expression on his friend’s face.

“For putting me in here,” He ran his fingers gently over the picture. “For framing me. You’ll start to find evidence that leads you away from me.”

This was an apology in its purest form. It was the way Remus could give Sirius all of his thoughts without having to speak a word. It was their language.

“James we can’t just completely go behind Dumbledore’s back just because Sirius said The Artist was framing him.” Peter said, slightly exasperated at his friend who was currently pacing throughout the FBI forensics lab.

“But it actually makes sense.” After meeting with Sirius, he immediately drove back to headquarters, his mind racing as he considered what Sirius had said. James pulled out a photo of each of the crime scenes, pinning them onto the board. He pointed at Eduard Szabina, expertly wrapped around his harp. “Mr. Szabina, Sirius’ supposed first victim. But that doesn’t make sense. This kill was considered a line of communication between two killers, one of them being Jacob, the man who killed the woman from the choir. If this was Sirius’ first kill, how would an already established killer know about him and try to communicate with him?”

“So you’re saying he’s killed more people than we think?”

“No! Jeez, Pete. No,” James shook his head quickly, slightly shocked that his friend would even suggest that. “I’m saying that it wasn’t Sirius! The Artist is well known, any killer that admired his work would want to reach out. Plus, Sirius has no medical skills besides the basic patching of a wound. How would he, so carefully, hollow out this man’s chest and then sew him around a harp?”

“James-” Marlene started before getting cut off.

“How? How would he have done that?”

“I don’t know.” Marlene took a deep breath, her eyes unable to meet James’. “That’s just what Dumbledore told us.”

“Well he’s fucking wrong!” James was angry, he was mad at himself and his team for blindly following Dumbledore rather than actually examining the facts. “My brother is sitting in a fucking prison cell. He’s being called mentally insane! So we need to stand the fuck up an actually help him, because he did not do the things he’s being accused of.”

“I’m just confused on why The Artist would single Sirius out like this.” Dorcas muttered, her face deep in thought as she spoke.

“He knows how Sirius thinks.” James said, his voice going quieter. “This would mean that it’s someone close to us, or someone who follows the cases. Who even knows what Skeeter is publishing about Sirius, but The Artist is probably an avid fan of hers.”

“So if he wanted someone to understand him, why would he get Sirius arrested?” Marlene stood up from her chair, walking to the board where the pictures were pinned. “Why not reach out to him in person?”

James shook his head, a hand running through his hair. “I don’t know. Maybe he thought it was too risky, maybe he just wanted to see what Sirius would do. I have no clue.”