He hadn’t slept in the common room for a few weeks now. He hadn’t slept at all, really. But the time the others had spent in the Gryffindor dorm, he’d been in an empty broom closet. He’d “converted” it himself – which meant throwing old mattress in it. He’d used the bathroom when no one else was awake. Nobody cared.
The others had likely seen him decay. His hair had gone greasy. His face was grey-ish and his under-eyes were dark. He was done. He only kept going for him. For Remus. For the boy he had betrayed. For the boy he loved so very much. For the boy who would likely never talk to him again. He tried to do kind things for Remus. Kind things while he did not notice. He’d returned the quill that Remus had left in the potions classroom without him noticing. He’d smuggled a piece of chocolate into his bag. He overheard him wanting to get a book from the library and politely asked Marlene McKinnon to return it that same day so Remus could have it. He never said. He was well aware that it didn’t make up for what he did.
This evening, he had snuck back into the common room to grab a fresh set of clothes - and had gotten an earful from the fat lady when he told her the password. Yes, it was after hours and of course he should not have been roaming the halls. But when he’d looked up at the portrait, she’d stopped her ranting about recklessness and the importance of sleep and just swung open. He’d moved silently. The other boys were all asleep when he entered the dorm. Remus’ curtains were not drawn all the way and Sirius could see a little part of him, arm thrown over his eyes like he always did.
“I’m so sorry, Moony. So very sorry!”
And Sirius broke. The tears came hot and fast and he couldn’t hold the sob that escaped his mouth. It was deafeningly loud in the quiet of the room. Sirius slapped his hand over his mouth, quickly gathered what he needed from his open trunk and flew out of the room, down the stairs and through the halls back to his cupboard.
He is curled up on his mattress, wearing his uniform, covered with his cloak. His crying had lasted for a good hour and he’d just calmed down enough to think about sleep, when suddenly there was a knock on the door. His heart picked up and he sat upright. What if it was a teacher? No, the door would already have burst open if that was the case. “Yes?” His voice came out hoarse and croaky.
“It’s me, Sirius.” Sirius. Remus had called him Sirius. Not Padfoot. But wait! Remus was outside his closet door!
He scrambles to his feet and yanks it open. And there he is. Really. In all his rugged glory, the young werewolf stands outside the cupboard.
Sirius tries to swallow the newly forming lump in his throat. He firmly stares at Remus' shoes. There's a little bit of dried mud on the left. Remus always walks to the left of the group and must have stepped off the paved way into the grass. Sirius shudders involuntarily.
“Can I…come in?”
The young heir of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, another shudder, takes a quick step back and nods. He could never refuse anything that Remus asked of him.
Risking a quick glance upward, Sirius could already feel the burn behind his eyes that came with looking at his friend’s…at Remus’ face.
He stares at his own feet.
Remus steps in and closes the door behind him.
“You've been sleeping here.” Remus observes as he glances around the small space. Sirius just nods quietly. The werewolf continues: “Can we...ahm...can we sit? And talk?”
Sirius unceremoniously plops down on the mattress, quickly wiping his eyes on his sleeve. Remus follows suite, keeping a little distance between them. He takes a very deep steadying breath.
“Why'd you do it?” He asks softly.
Sirius addresses the floor: “I'm so sorry, Moon...Remus! So very sorry.”
“I know you are. But that doesn't answer my question. Why'd you do it, Sirius? I need to know, if we ever want to have another...chance.”
A chance? Another chance? Really? Sirius feels his skin prickle. He had this one shot of fixing it. He couldn't mess this up. Now it is up to him to take a deep breath, wipe his eyes and nose on his sleeve again and string together a few coherent sentences. Nothing he'd ever done had seemed that hard.
“I want to start by saying that nothing I can say will make it up to you or even Sn...Snape.” He bites his tounge. “But Remus, believe me when I say I never meant to hurt you. Or him. Not that much. Not like that. Never!” Sirius allows himself to look up quickly. Remus' face is emotionless, but his eyes tell Sirius that he was listening to every single word.
“I had just left the library. Was hiding out after that howler my mother sent at breakfast. I couldn't face any of them. And then Snape came by. Of course he saw me. Started taunting me about my family, how I was a disappointment and of course they had to be ashamed of me. Well, you know me. I told him to stick his wand up his...nevermind. Anyway. He kept going about how all my friends were going to leave, too. About how we were only together because we were all unwanted. Which is a lie. I know it is. I knew it was.” Was it still? Was he unwanted there, too? He mentally curses himself.
“And then he started talking about you. About how I gave you puppy dog eyes. About how you were 'howling at the moon' for me. And he winked at me then, the slimy git.” Sirius swallowed hard. “Sorry. He knew, Remus! As much as I hate to admit it, he's smart and he knew. He'd figured it all out. And I panicked. I completely blanked and I told him, if he was so curious about us...I told him about the knot at the willow and...” Sirius choked off.
“I never meant for it to come out. I never meant to say it. I never meant for you to get hurt. I never meant for you to hurt him.”
“I would have killed him. You know that, right? Without James there, I would have torn him to pieces. Do you know what the ministry would have done to me, then?”
Sirius stares at Remus for a long minute. Then, everything happens so fast. The tears come again. He pulls his knees up, wraps his arms around his shins and hides his face in them. Sobbing harshly, he can only hear his own blood flowing in his ears. He's crying so hard. He's being selfish. It's not about him. It's about Remus. Remus would have been expelled, put into Askaban, put down at worst. Sirius is working himself up into a downright hysteric fit. And then there is pressure on his back. A warm hand, rubbing firm circles. And there is another hand finding his. And he squeezes instinctively.
Sirius doesn't know how it happens but he scrambles into Remus' arms, crying into his shoulder.
“I'm so sorry. I'm sorry! Please...please forgive me. I'm sorry. I love you. I'm sorry.” He's slurring and he knows he's wrong for begging, Remus should get his answers and be done with him forever. But his hands won't unclench and his arms won't unlock and his words won't stop flowing.
Remus has been mumbling into his ear the whole time but Sirius does not understand a word of what he is saying. He feels the panic attack full force and he can't breathe. He's gasping but the air won't reach his lungs. He feels himself being pushed away and suddenly there is a stinging pain in his cheek and Remus' firm command of: “Sirius! Breathe.” He gasps again and this time air enters his lungs full force and he feels dizzy.
“Good lad,” he hears Remus say, much softer. “Breathe with me. Here, feel.” And he places Sirius' hand on his chest. The latter has lost count of the time that has passed since his outburst. But Remus is still here when he opens his eyes and the world – his cupboard – is not fuzzy anymore.
Sirius rights himself and apologizes to the ground. “I'm sorry.”
“I know.”
Remus places a hand on the young Black's back again.
“Can I...say something?”
“Anything.” Sirius looks up, red eyes wide. Anxious.
“You hurt me, Sirius. A lot. What you did was damn stupid. You know that. And knowing you, you can't promise not to do stupid things again. But when you do, I want to be there. I can't forget what happened. You understand that, right?” Sirius nods. “But I can forgive. Because you're you. And I love you. So very much.” And this time it's Remus who hugs him, before he gets up.
“Come back with me.” He holds his hand out to his best friend.
„Anything! I mean it. You can do anything you want to me. I won’t fight it. I’ll do anything you ask. Please!“ Sirius is about to drop to his knees. He’s across from Remus, James and Peter. They are shoulder to shoulder, Remus locked in between the other two. Sirius is staring at their feet. Had he dared to look into their eyes, he would have seen what he was expecting – Peter scared, James angry and Remus – sweet, sweet Remus - forgiving. But he doesn’t look up. He’s wringing his hands, breathing hard, terrified.
He’d blown it all by himself, of course. He knew that. He wasn’t blaming any of them, especially not Remus – the boy he loved so much and whom he’d betrayed. And for what? Because of his hot temper and short fuse. He mentally slapped himself.
He hears James step forward more than he ses it and he flinches. His initial instinct is to throw up his hands and protect his face, but he clenches them at his sides and bit down hard on his teeth, prepared to take whatever came his way. Slowly, he looks up.
What he sees shocks him. He’d expected James to be furious…punch him or tell him that he hated him and he was not his brother anymore.
James doesn't look angry. Just disappointed. And that is so very much worse. He clears his throat.
“You’re an idiot, Sirius. You’re a hot-headed, reckless, stupid boy.”
Sirius nods. He can feel the tears coming and he does nothing to stop them. Just letting them run down his face, he drops his gaze again.
“But honestly…even if you’re a stupid mutt sometimes…if Remus has forgiven you, than so will I.”
A hand lands on his shoulder and Sirius flinches, shudders, sobs and finds himself buried in James’ embrace.
“You’re an idiot, but I love you.”
Sirius claws at James’ cloak with one hand, while stretching one hand out to Remus, redrawing it when he realizes he still had no right. But Remus has already made his move, grabbing his hand and pulling it back, joining the hug. Peter, always doing what the others were doing, joins in. Sirius knows then and there that he would never again do anything to endanger his friends. He’d rather die. His face buried in James shoulder, hugging his brother and clutching Remus’s hand, Peter embracing them all, he knows that they would be fine. Not quite there yet, but they would be.