Damage Control

“Write me, Remus!”, Fenrir calls after him, “Or, I’ll have to come visit you”, he threatens, laughing loudly and Remus turns around one final time, smiling at him broadly before finally slipping into the train.

Immediately, he starts scanning for his friends, cramped into some compartment, waiting for him, maybe laughing. He can’t help the small grin spreading over his face when he thinks about it. He didn’t get the chance to visit James or Peter and Sirius has completely ignored him, so Remus did the same.

But even though Fenrir has tried to talk him out of it, he’s going to make things right between them, because there truly isn’t a life without Sirius, even if he irritates him and they clash, at least they do it together and it always feels right . He just can’t without him.

“REMUS!”, a voice behind him calls, he turns around, finding James waving frantically at him. His mouth is ripped open, eyes sparkling, hair an untamed mess and he looks so perfectly James-like, so kind and humble and confident at the same time, Remus can’t imagine him not being a real friend. Maybe if Fenrir met him, he would agree.

He nods at James, walking over to him with big steps.

“How are you?”, James screams in his ears, clapping him on the shoulder, “Peter is waiting in our compartment, he didn’t want to get up again because…”, he chatters on, and Remus just follows him, feeling a weird sense of peace flowing throughout his body.

He opens a door, letting Remus pass first. His eyes fall on the boy sitting near the window, eating a chocolate frog, his head bend over something that Remus can’t make out, at James’ voice his head snaps up, eyes light and delighted.

“Oh, hey Remus, how are you?”, Remus nods, smiling before flopping down next to him, Peter looks back down on something glowing in his hands, Remus nudges him slightly, not talking, still listening to James talk.

Peter meets his eyes and frowns. Remus frowns in response too, slight grin tugging at his lips before nodding towards the chocolate frog, Peter shakes his head, training his head down, Remus nudges the boy again a bit harder this time. He ignores him completely.

“Come on, Petey”, he singsongs in his ear, Peter flinches slightly, finally breaking off a piece of the frog and handing it over without sparing him a glance.

“Remus?”, James asks, ripping away his attention to the boy still standing at the door, James’ eyebrows are raised. He looks a bit disappointed, a small wrinkle between his eyebrows. Sort of like a lost little puppy.

“Sorry”, he holds up the chocolate.

“Did you hear anything I said?”

“Of course, I just got distracted”, he explains, feeling a bit guilty, “It’s just that Fenrir has banned chocolate from the house, or more from me as long as I live in that house, and I missed it.”

James tilts his head, scanning over his face and for a second, concern spreads over it.

“I mean, it’s not that bad, it was just this stupid rule, he says it’s unhealthy”, he backtracks, and it’s not a lie, he just left some parts of it out.

James shrugs, giving him one more of those weird glances, “Well, either way you’re lucky, Remus. Pete wouldn’t give me one crumb of it or tell me what he’s holding so don’t try that either.”

“Guess he just likes me more than you”, he deadpans, “Isn’t that true, Petey?”

Peter still doesn’t react, other than agreeing that it’s a secret, but James does it for him, throwing himself on the other side, hand slapped on his forehead, “What did I do to deserve this?”

Remus winks at him, “So, how was Christmas?”

“That’s literally what I just told you about, Remus?!”

“NO, no, no, you talked about that bird you snogged and the biscuits you ate, but not Christmas .”

“That was my Christmas!”, he argues, cheeks red and flushed.

Remus laughs, “Come on, there’s got to be something else you did.”

“Well, do you want to hear about my presents?”

Remus nods.

James lights up, leaning forward as if he’s been struck by lightning and starts rambling and for the next 15 minutes James tries to talk about what he got for Christmas and the focus is on the tried because that brilliant boy cannot form two cohesive sentences as soon as he’s excited (or flustered for that matter) and keeps drifting off, suddenly jumping on an entirely different story or person or evening. It’s sort of entertaining though, just watching him remember a new detail and abandon the entire thing he just tried to tell or backtrack and correct something from three sentences ago.

So far, Remus has learned that James got something from his father and his mother surprised him with something else, and his grandma sent him something, while his uncle gave him, would you guess it, something.

He also learned about his aunt falling in something and his cousin doing something which is new and exciting or horrible and cruel, James never got far enough to tell them.

Eventually Peter also sets down whatever he had held in his hands and starts listening as well, sharing amused glances with Remus every once in a while, when James just sighed and gave up before remembering that his mother’s friend’s daughter also gave up something, they almost broke their serious expression but before they even had the chance to, he’s right back in another story.

“So, then she was about to…”, he stops, blinking very dumbly and Remus has to choke a laugh down, “Wait, remember when I told you that my grandma knew her mother’s friend’s flower girl?”, Remus nods, having no idea whatsoever what he’s talking about, “Right, that couldn’t have been correct, she didn’t know her when she met her, so sorry, wait but how did I get to that? Okay so wait, Esmeralda knew Sabrina who knew Caroline, but she didn’t”, at this point even James is caught in his webs of stories.

Remus is almost sure that he will give up soon and just call it a day, passing out from exhaustion as soon as he does, but then very suddenly he straightens up again.

Oh no.

“ Wait . No, I was completely wrong, well, not completely, but you get it, my grandpa knew her!”, he slaps his forehead, laughing carelessly, “And how he met her, that was wild , trust me. Okay, so he needed flowers, right, for my grandma and he visited her flower shop and guess who he saw?”, he pauses, staring at them expectantly.

“Uhm… her?”, Remus mumbles, biting the inside of his mouth to stop himself from bursting into laughter, in the corner of his eye he can see Peter quietly shaking.

“Yes! And you have to imagine his face when he recognized her, wow”, he’s breathless, looking very satisfied, then his eyes widen, “but that would mean he already knew her, okay, wait”, he scratches the back of his head, “She was the flower girl, he wanted flowers”, his face is tight as if he’s thinking about an impossible problem, a smile spreads over his lips, “I just remembered, my father got like these huge flowers for my mother because…”

Remus cackles, unable to stop himself this time, somewhere he can hear Peter join as well and they don’t stop for a while. They probably would have gone on longer, completely ignoring James’ grumbles, if not for someone coughing. All colour drains from Remus’ face as thoughts about the person, he has banned himself from thinking about until he’s actually here, flood his mind and he very carefully glances over to the boy standing in the door.

His expression is guarded, as if he isn’t sure he’s right here and Remus wants to pull him in and force him to see how he belongs wherever they are, because that’s Sirius.

Sirius.

Not Sirius Black. Not a pureblood. Not a result from his parents.

Just Sirius.

Their Sirius.

But Remus doesn’t. He keeps his mouth shut and his hands by his side, finally letting himself look at him fully and then it begins to make sense why the others haven’t jumped to greet him yet.

Well, Sirius looks to be honest horrible. Well, like a Sirius level horrible, there’s always that insane standard of beauty and grace he just carries with him, but today he looks bad.

There are dark eyebags underneath his eyes, lips dry and cracked, hair patted in place in a way Remus knows Sirius hates, clothes hanging from his frame loosely, covering his entire body, seemingly dragging him down closer to the floor and then there are the bruises.

His right cheek still has faint tracings of a hand, his left eye is shining in blue and green, and Remus is pretty sure that another bruise is peeking out his collar.

James finds his voice the quickest, jumping up and stalking over to him, “Fuck, Sirius, are you okay?”

Sirius flinches slightly as his friend gets closer and James takes a big step back, Remus can see Sirius’ eyes widen when he realized what he did, “oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean, I just- “

“It’s fine, Sirius”, James croaks, “Just… are you okay?”

Sirius blinks, looking surprised for a second as if he’s never heard that before.

“What? Oh, yeah. you mean this?”, he points to his eye, “It’s fine, it was stupid”, he laughs very uneasily, “I got into this stupid fight with a stupid muggle, don’t worry he got off worse than me.”

Remus frowns, not believing a single word and he can hear James open his mouth again, but then Sirius meets his eye, pleading look in them and Remus cuts in, “That sounds wild, but James was actually just telling us all about his Christmas presents, weren’t you James?”

James turns around, stuttering and searching for words before nodding, “Right, well then settle in, Sirius.”

Sirius does, claiming the window seat and humming every now and then when James says something but eventually once the train starts, he simply begins staring out the window and watching the trees pass, eventually falling asleep. But Remus doesn’t forget the tiny grateful smile he sent him before.

After Sirius is asleep, the others calm down as well, not really talking, all caught up in thoughts and most importantly worries.

Remus looks at Sirius, breaths coming uneven and a bit shaky, eyelids fluttering, bruises still present on his body, and it feels so wrong.

It feels wrong that Sirius can’t just wipe the bruises off like pint, that they are prominent, that he can’t have been sleeping the past few days, that his clothes are not his clothes.

The rest of the train ride passes that way, quiet, and filled with uncertain glances and whispers.

The Great Hall is still filled with kids enjoying their first meal at Hogwarts, chatting to their new friends and about the classes and about the ghosts and teacher and they are probably having fun.

Sirius is not.

He’s lying on his bed, curtains drawn shut, eyes trained on the ceiling, tears silently flowing. He has ditched his friends, left them behind at dinner, saying that he isn’t feeling well and left, not leaving room for them to follow, not wanting to burden them any further.

Their immediate silence after he burst into the compartment, stopping the careless laughter, and causing all of them to quiet down. It was a horrible thing to feel, but the worst thing was that he still fell asleep, he didn’t pretend to make it easier on them or felt the awkwardness, no, he fell asleep.

So fast too.

It happened before he even realized it did. It wasn’t in his control, as soon as he was around the three of them, he slipped away into a kind of slumber he hasn’t felt in two weeks.

It’s such a cruel thing, really that while he ruined their mood, he still felt safer than he has in weeks, just making out Remus’ soft breaths that aren’t filled with anger was enough, will probably always be enough.

Sirius has no idea why he can differentiate Remus’ breaths from those of anyone else as clearly as he can, it’s not something he can do with literally anyone else, it’s just Remus. His little breaths in between his normal ones as if he fears those aren’t enough to keep him alive and he has to take a tiny one as a middle step, the slight rattle in his breaths even though he has never smoked before, and his favourite, the content sighs he lets out just before he falls asleep.

Maybe he shouldn’t know all of these things. But he can’t help it. And how could you not remember every single detail that Remus gifts you about him? How can anyone just ignore these things?

The only other person whose breaths he had memorized before were his brothers, but not because he just did, no, that took time and fear and waking in the night to check that he was still breathing, it was a necessity, but Remus was just there one day, stuck in his mind.

Regulus was because it was the only option, the only way he could get even a second of sleep, the only thing that kept him from going insane with worry was hearing Regulus breathe in the night. And now he can’t even remember how that sounds like.

His blood runs cold, tears flow faster.

He should know that he swore to always remember it, just as he swore to spend every birthday with him, just as he swore that he would never let something come in between them.

But he forgot.

He doesn’t know.

He doesn’t remember something that used to keep him alive.

He is starting to forget Regulus.

Or at least the real Regulus with his delicate laughs, shy eyes, annoying eyerolls, and quiet voice.

Oh No.

Oh no, no, no, no.

How does his voice sound like?

Where is that noise?

How did he lose it?

How long has it been since he heard it?

Why is it gone?

What did he do wrong?

This is how it all begins, isn’t it?

He’s losing his brother.

His baby brother.

His Regulus.

The boy who he would kill for, the boy he was ready to die for, the boy who always beat him at chess.

Regulus.

Sirius sits up in bed with without warning, rubbing over his right eye, before slipping off the bed, sprinting out of the room, down the stairs, out of the common room into the hallways of Hogwarts.

The air burns through his lungs, feet touching the ground for only a second, hair whipping his face.

Sirius blinks, feeling the air around push against, trying to stop him from going to the dungeons, but the terror racing through his body has too much force to carry about something as insignificant as air resistance. When he opens his eyes, he’s in front of the Slytherin common room.

That he even knows where it is, is a privilege that he got with being a Black and having cousins who can’t keep their mouth shut, gladly telling him everything, fully expecting him to end up there too.

The only thing that he doesn’t know is the password. He steps directly in front of it, already raising his hand, but they won’t listen, he can’t knock.

Unable to move his fingers or arms, he just stares, delusional enough to believe that Regulus will simply step put and let him hear his voice again, let him see his face once more, let him soak his brother in one final time before they are torn apart, because even Sirius can admit that they won’t be like they used to be ever again.

There’s something wedged between them. Some stained glass that wasn’t there before.

He has no idea how long he stays there, maybe minutes, maybe hours, standing in front of the entry, trying to will his hands to knock, but never actually doing it, his free will bound to restraints.

Eventually someone does come but not his brother, it never is his brother.

“Black?”, a sneering voice calls.

He turns around to the person walking towards him with arrogant steps however that’s possible, behind them another one, a bit less cocky, more elegant, taller, and slimmer.

“What are you doing here? In front of Slytherin territory might I add?”, Barty Crouch asks, stepping into the light, shadows dancing over his face illuminating the crook in his nose, his dark eyes, and high cheekbones hauntingly, “Begging for them to let you back inside the family?”

He laughs coldly.

“Speechless? I get that”, he smiles, stepping even closer and Sirius can smell him now, minty dust seeping into his nose, he can’t help but grimace.

Sirius looks past Crouch, eyes falling onto Evan Rosier, standing there, face the epitome of symmetrical with hooded eyes, full lips, and piercing eyes. It somehow manages to baffle Sirius every time he sees him, how if you could draw a line through the exact middle of his face and you’d have the exact same half twice. It’s twisted. Something that Sirius has always envied and hated whenever their paths crossed during dinners or because of Regulus.

It makes him seem unearthly, like he wasn’t made the same way they were. There aren’t any emotions on his face which further plays into the theme. Evan Rosier just doesn’t look human. It’s quite spooky but also entirely captivating.

He’s the only friend of Regulus that has managed to fascinate Sirius, because that’s what both of them are, friends of Regulus.

People that probably already know him better than he does.

“Just go”, he sighs, feeling very finished, but Barty continues sneaking closer, he must have already noticed the bruises, not paying them any mind.

“So, you’re standing in front of my common room on the first day and you tell me to go?”, he scoffs, turning to the Rosier who’s also stepping closer now, “Can you believe this, Evan?”

Barty is not stopping, he’s too close, entirely too close, Sirius decides and starts falling away to the side when Evan Rosier’s sharp inhale stops him, snapping his attention on the alien.

“Did you Father do that?”, he asks, showing an emotion for maybe the first time ever, Sirius can see a flash of empathy wash over him, it strikes like a thunder bold, leaving just as suddenly as it came. But it was there.

Barty scoffs again, turning back to Sirius, eyes scanning over his face, “Doesn’t look bad, Evan. Don’t be a baby. We’ve had way worse.”

Sirius looks at Evan, ignoring Barty with every cell of his body, Evan is staring right back, no emotion playing over his face, but they are caught in that, just caught in a stare. There’s something passing between them, he has no idea what or why, but something does. He shakes his head, averting his eyes, choosing to completely ignore that.

“This is such a bore, let’s go Evan”, Barty finally says, turning away, not giving Sirius another glance. Evan turns away too, murmuring something to his friend who laughs in response, not looking back at him again.

“Always a pleasure, Crouch!”, he calls after him.

“Kiss my arse, Black!”

Then the two of them leave and Sirius does too, trying and failing to ban Regulus from his mind, because the one burning truth has branded itself into his soul, letting him feel it over and over again.

Regulus and he will never be the same again. They lost something delicate that floated between them. It drifted away into the atmosphere, leaving them alone in the darkness, unable to cling to each other anymore.

--

He’s back in the dorm, back on his bed, pillow underneath his bed, eyes stuck to the ceiling, as if he never left at all, maybe he didn’t, maybe he did. He doesn’t really care.

The others are back too, moving around the dorm, settling in, talking about this and that while getting ready for bed. Sirius hasn’t said a single word to them, and they’ve given up trying to get him to join. He has no idea why he feels this way, why this time he can’t seem to get up and put on that mask, forget all about his parents until the next holidays, but this time he just can’t.

Everything’s stuck in his head, his scar on his arm throbbing.

He has tried to forget it, tried to cover it up, tried to make it leave his body, but not one single letter listened to his pleading and begging, they all stayed, spelling out the same words over and over again, burning themselves deeper and deeper into his mind.

She hasn’t done that before, it was the first time, she left a message on his body, branding herself onto his body and taking something that he knows was supposed to be his.

“Sirius”, Remus calls, gently prying open the curtains, Sirius scrambles up, pulling the sleeve over his arm again just before Remus’ head peeks through.

“Here”, he pulls out a little chocolate bar, throwing it on the mattress, it bounces towards Sirius, cold aluminium touching his bare feet, “Lily gave it to me, but I ate probably the entire dinner table, so you should have it.”

“Thanks”, he mumbles, grabbing the bar between his fingers, he looks up, wanting to show him a small smile but he’s already gone again, the curtain still swinging where he stood before.

It feels like a peace offering, one that Sirius is begging to take. In perspective it’s just a small thing, a small chocolate bar at the end of a long day, but it feels so significant, this feels like something he would talk to James about.

He stays in his bed until he can hear the others gentle breathing, until he’s absolutely sure they’ve all fallen asleep and then and only then, does he sneak out into the bathroom, brushing his teeth, tying his hair into loose know before carefully pulling off his clothes, tracing the bruises still lingering on his body with his fingers.

Eventually his gaze travels to his arm, examining the scar that has evolved from hot angry red to resigned purple and will turn silver soon. The letters blur as tears clog his vision, salty water running down his cheeks before he can help it.

He sighs sinking down against the cold bathroom tiles, hoping they’ll ground him. Wake him from whatever nightmare he has gotten himself caught in, but they won’t, only letting him feel the pain so much deeper.

The door knob rattles as someone tries to get it to open, but luckily sometimes it clamps which gives Sirius just the right amount of time to throw himself against it, still bare chested, wet cheeked and too vulnerable.

The intruder tries to open it again, but this time he pushes against it.

“Hello?”, James voice calls out, drowsy and dark from sleep, “Is somebody in there?”

“Ye- Yeah”, his voice is weak, “It’s me, James.”

“Oh, my bad, are you going to be long?”

“No, no, just give me a few seconds”, he stutters out, looking around for his disregarded clothes, reaching for them with his feet, too scared to leave his post at the door.

“All right”, it’s silent again, James doesn’t try to pry the door open or force him to talk, because of course he wouldn’t, his mother would, maybe that’s why he expects everyone else to do the same. But even when Sirius thinks the entire world would do, deep down he knows that James Fleamont Potter wouldn’t.

He pulls on his pyjama, taking a deep breath before standing up, shifting on his feet, and finally opening the door a small crack, waiting for the fear to set in, waiting for his heart so sink as the other person comes near, but it never comes. Carefully, he opens the rest of the door, James is standing a bit away, his wand gently illuminating his face and the awkward smile on it.

James feels safe, a sense of stability coming and going with him.

He begins walking forwards, slowly and quietly, and instead of dread washing over Sirius with every step closer, he feels more and more comfortable.

“Goodnight, Sir “, he says, but Sirius cuts him off, going to hug him but stopping himself at the last moment, because this is not something that they do without joking, not something that guys do, he knows that.

“I’m sorry”, he says, burrowing his head in his hands, “Sorry, I didn’t- “, but he before he can say anything more, James wraps his arms around him, shutting him up.

“You’re all right, Sirius”, he whispers, his wand clattering to the floor beside him with a thud. And the bizarre thing is that it doesn’t even hurt, James hugs him so delicately, somehow unknowingly avoiding all his hidden bruises, that it never aches.

He can’t help it this time, the tears spill before he even notices, but James continues holding him, not scolding, or squeezing tighter, he simply stays.

“I hate her, James”, he chokes out between sobs, “I really hate her.”

He doesn’t ask questions, instead he answers softly, “That’s okay.”

And oh , his limbs go weak, further falling into James, because oh .

He breathes in shakily, bracing himself for the truth about to leave his lips, “but I can’t not care about her”, he gasps.

“That’s okay too”, James murmurs.

“Because if she does that, it means she has to care about me too, right?”, he continues, breathless into James’ shoulder.

“I care about you and I’m doing this, Sirius”, and after that everything is said. Sirius has no idea how long they stay like that, James holding him crying, but it must’ve been for a long time.

Eventually he pulls away, blinking the rest of his tears away, “Sorry, I just…”, he trails off.

“Don’t ever apologise for having emotions, you wanker”, James says, bending over and picking up his wand and Sirius can’t help the wet laugh from escaping out of his mouth.

“I’m here for you”, he points to the other two beds, “they are too, don’t ever forget that, yeah?”, Sirius nods gratefully, not full trusting his voice yet.

“All right, now I really have to go take a wee, but I’ll be here afterwards, yeah?”, he continues, not expecting him to answer before he slips in the bathroom and closes the door.

Sirius sighs, feeling so warm all over. Maybe he should leave, got to bed, and talk to him tomorrow, but he can’t, his feet stay glued to the floor beneath him, eyes trained on the door.

It’s dark without James’ light and he can see lifeless grey eyes in every shadow, whispering thing, not daring to touch him, repulsed by her own son and then there’s James, immediately hugging him without question.

The pulls open again, light shining through the cast, breaking the darkness that was close to swallowing him, he pads outside again, nodding at Sirius as he does.

“You should probably go to sleep”, Sirius says, chuckling falsely.

James’ eyes narrow, “Are you going to be able to sleep?”

He shrugs, not wanting to lie to James, “Haven’t tried yet.”

“Wanna try together?”, his eyes glint mischievously.

“Are you proposing we sleep together?”, Sirius answers, smiling earnestly for the first time in what feels like years.

James shakes his head, laughing quietly, “No, I just meant that if we’re both still awake in a while, we’ll just whistle or something and we’ll know that the other is awake too.”

“All right”, he nods, stretching out his hand, “You’ve got a deal”, James shakes it before turning to his bed and calling goodnight over his shoulder.

Sirius climbs into his bed, listening to the others breathe, he can’t make out Remus, but Peter is snoring loudly, he sighs, wondering if Remus cast a muffliato spell again. He does that sometimes; he has no idea why it seems as if he would just like to disappear sometimes.

He lies there for a while, knowing he won’t be able to go to sleep right now, waiting for James to maybe whistle, but maybe, he thinks, he’s doing the same thing, not wanting to wake Sirius up.

I’ll just do it.

He puckers his lips, but no sound comes out, he can’t do it, he rubs over his face, breathing heavily now. He tries again, but the only thing that leaves his mouth is air.

Fuck.

He starts panicking, trying it over and over again, hoping for something to leave his mouth, but he can’t do it.

He almost gets up, stalking over to James’ bed to explain why he hasn’t done it yet, when a soft whistle reaches his ears. It’s gentle and quiet but it’s there.

This time Sirius manages to whistle back, his entire face breaking out into a wide grin. They exchange short melodies and high tones for a while, Sirius forcing his eyes to stay open as tiredness tries to glue them shut, but eventually his body wins and he drifts off to sleep.

It’s the best night of sleep he has gotten in weeks.

______________________________________________________________

Mornings are a difficult thing for Peter and that’s all he has to say about that, but they are easy for James, which is why he, after two weeks of sleeping peacefully, is awoken by stumbling and cussing.

Peter is pretty sure that he does it on purpose because James doesn’t really stumble, it’s not something that James does except in the morning right in front of his bed.

“James”, he grumbles, “Bugger off!”

“So sorry, Petey”, he laughs, “But since you’re already awake…”

“I’m not”, he interrupts, rubbing over his eyes.

“Right, right, of course”, he continues mindlessly, “But we all want to get to breakfast, so maybe, you know.”

“Who’s everyone, James?”, he asks because he’s 90 percent sure that it’s just James, and his suspicions are confirmed when it stays quiet outside of his bed, “Why don’t you wake the others first before waking me, James?”, he groans, sitting up and admitting defeat.

“I don’t want to wake Remus”, he admits and that does draw a smile on Peter’s smile. It’s not like he doesn’t understand, Remus can be quite scary when awoken too early, but nobody is as scared as James is. Nobody.

He draws the curtain back, coming face to face with a suddenly very pale James, he grins, “Oh, come on, James, he’s not that bad.”

James blushes, “Well, what about that one time where he- “

“That was one time, he’ll probably be nicer than me”, he argues, jumping off the bed, “And you can just wake Sirius, you know, he doesn’t mind waking Remus.”

“That’s smart”, James nods, rubbing his cheek.

“You didn’t think of that?!”

“It slipped my mind!”, he groans, slapping his forehead, Peter laughs very loudly.

“Be quiet, you wanker!”, Remus’ angry, drowsy morning voice calls out from behind his bed and James immediately stops, eyes squeezing shut, “Sorry, sorry, of course! Anything for you.”

Peter almost pisses himself.

“Good morning”, Sirius mumbles and Peter turns to the other bed where his head peeks out, a few strands of his hair falling and framing his sleepy, puffy face, he sends them a lazy smile.

“Morning Sirius”, he calls back which is immediately shushed by James, he only grins, ignoring James, “Sirius, would you do James the favour and wake scary 15-year-old Remus for him?”

Sirius glances at James, then winks at Peter, “Of course.”

It is sort of funny how Remus blew up once after James woke him with multiple rounds of his favourite Christmas carol mid-May and ever since James doesn’t dare to go near his bed if the possibility of a grumpy Remus being in there is likely. He would tease him more for it, if he wasn’t aware that if he were at the receiving line of that outbreak, he would probably be the same way.

“Do not worry, James, your saviour Sirius is here”, he continues, bowing before walking over to Remus’ bed, tugging on the curtains, “Remus”, he begins, “Remy, my sweet darling”, he pulls the curtain to the side, letting a first glimpse of light into the bed.

Peter can make out a grumbling Remus, quieter than he was with James.

“I understand, but don’t you want the world to see you?”, Sirius coos.

This time Peter can hear him very clearly when he answers, “Shove off.”

“Come on, let’s go, Remus”, Sirius continues unbothered, “The shower awaits you”, it goes quiet in the bed again and Sirius sighs before he turns to Peter and James, “He’ll be out in a minute”, he says sweetly before ripping the curtains away in one swift motion, putting Remus on fully display.

His head is buried in his pillow, curly hair splayed over his pillows messily, his blanket is low around his hips, t-shirt riding up, a small silver sliver of skin showing, Remus groans, trying to slip underneath his pillow, mumbling a wild variety of cuss words while not bothering to cover the least bit up.

And Peter is reminded that Remus is really fucking fit.

James coughs and Peter turns to him, James is staring firmly at the ground, cheeks a glowing red, then he fully turns around, stalking over to the door, “I’ll wait downstairs”, he sounds a bit breathless, coughing once more before slamming the door shut behind him.

Remus flips on his back, stretching his arms out, yawning and rubbing over his eyes, humming before raising his head and looking at Sirius then Peter with a confused glance, “Where’d James disappear to?”, his voice is still slightly slurred.

They both shrug. Remus nods, sitting up and slipping off his bed, walking towards the bathroom, sending Sirius the bird when he tries to talk to him

. As soon as the door is shut behind him, Peter finally turns to Sirius who is staring at that door with a slightly angry expression as if it took something valuable from him.

It’s too early for all these expressions, he decides, beginning to pack his things for the first day back at school, he’s almost done when he turns to Sirius, “Wait, did James takes his stuff with him because…”

Sirius is still standing in the same place, back turned to Peter, “Sirius?”, he repeats, and he turns around, eyes wide. “What?”

“Nothing”, he says quickly, James can just get his own stuff, this is all too much. Peter really hates mornings, that’s why he always showers in the evening too, he just can’t be bothered to in the morning. Mornings are horrible.

“I think I’ll already leave for breakfast, yeah?”, he says, grabbing his things and heading for the door, Sirius nods, “I still have to”, he points to the bathroom.

Just before Peter leaves the room he turns to Sirius, “Oh Sirius?”

“Yeah.”

“Happy New Year! It’s going to be a banger”, it has been bugging him for the last day that he never said it to him.

Sirius blinks, “Oh right, to you too.”

Peter leaves. Maybe he should’ve at least brough James’ wand, he thinks as he stumbles down into the common room where James is sitting on a couch, staring into the dead fire with such intensity as if he was trying to relight it.

“James”, he calls out, but James doesn’t react, he gets closer, calling again and again, but he just doesn’t hear it. He’s literally right next to his ear when he calls a final time, touching his shoulder at the same time. James curses, jumping to the side.

“You can’t do something like that, Pete”, he complains, rubbing over his heart.

Peter flops down next to him, “I called your name like a thousand times.”

“Still.”

His stomach grumbles, “James, can’t we just go to breakfast already?”

“Why are asking as if I’ve denied you that already?”, he answers, staring into the fireplace again.

“Because I know you?”

“If you knew me, you wouldn’t have asked in the first place.”

“I asked because I’m really fucking hungry and it’s morning and Sirius and Remus will just come together, they’ll be fine.”

James sighs, very loudly, glancing over at him, “How hungry are you exactly? I need to consider the options.”

“Starving and besides if you don’t come with me, I’ll go alone and you don’t want that, do you?”

“That’s blackmail”, but he gets up, heading towards the portrait.

“Call it what you want”, he follows, grinning smugly.

They are about to step out when a voice calls after them, “Peter, James, wait!”, they turn around as Marlene sprints toward them.

“Hello Marlene”, James says once she’s caught up to them, and they continue walking, “How were your holidays?”

“Fabulous”, she says grinning at both of them, Marlene is now finally taller than Peter is, just a tiny bit, but she notices,” Look Pete, I’ve finally got you!”

“He glares at her, mumbling about how he’ll still grow under his breath, because he will! He knows that. His father is just a bad example.

“She totally does”, James teases, high-fiving Marlene, “But seriously, stop growing Marlene or you’ll reach me by Easter.”

Peter looks at Marlene, then at James, there’s still a noticeable height difference between them, but he keeps his mouth shut.

“I can’t help it when all of you are so tiny”, she shrugs, ruffling Peter’s hair who swats her hand away.

“Remus hasn’t”, he says while slapping her hand once more for good measure.

James nods, “Oh yeah, have you seen him yet? He’s grown like another foot in the past two weeks. He’s basically a tree at this point.”

“Is that true or are you both just too tiny to notice actual height?”, she asks grinning at them.

James gasps, opening his mouth to defend himself when Marlene cuts him off, “Anyway, how were your holidays?”

“Amazing”, James begins, pausing and for a second Peter thinks he will just leave it at that but then he continues, “Actually do you still remember my grandma?”

Marlene nods, “Wait? The old one or the one with that perfume?”, she wrinkles her nose and Peter is reminded of the years in which Marlene lived right next of James and in extension him before her father got a new job and they left.

“The one with the perfume, well, anyway, she – “

“No”, Peter interrupts, “I’ve heard this story before “, or more like the beginning, “If you start that story, you won’t be done until next Christmas.”

“Oh, come on, Petey, I’ll make it quick.”

“No. You can tell her as soon as the others are here and I can talk to someone else”, he states without leaving room for questions.

“You can be so rude, Peter”, James sighs.

“I’m just honest.”

“Rudely honest”, Marlene supplies, grinning at him with that signature broad smile. The smile that Peter fell in love with years ago. The smile that he tried to kiss not that long ago. The smile he cried over. The smile he still can’t forget. It’s just so beautiful.

“Marlene, you genius!”, they continue their bickering until they all arrive at the Great Hall.

--

“I swear”, Mary shouts, laughing, “He said that before smiling and walking away!”

“There’s no way, Mary”, James shakes his head, “Nobody’s that oblivious.”

Mary scoffs, “And how would you know that?”

Peter just looks away from the two of them, eating another piece of his toast, fully content with staying in the background when Marlene nudges him, “When’s Remus coming?”

He shrugs, mouth still full, “Don’t know, probably soon”, Marlene nods, glancing at the door before returning to her Porridge.

“Why?”

Peter can see a faint blush on her cheeks when she mumbles her response, staring down into her bowl, “No reason.”

Oh.

He turns away, trying to stop his heart from sinking. Marlene had rejected him months ago, he should’ve known, he actually thought that he knew it. He really thought.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

It’s all just so stupid.

Of course, Marlene would like Remus with his curls and sarcasm and hidden laughs that you have to search and his height. His fucking height. If Peter could at least have one of them, but no, his hair is flat and lacks any sort of volume, whenever he laughs loudly as if he’s choking and he hasn’t grown in years.

It’s all so fucking unfair.

Because even if someone doesn’t immediately fall for Remus, they go after Sirius. Sirius and his stupid hair, and confidence, and charisma and his stupid ability to make everyone blush when he talks.

It’s all so, so frustrating.

Because get this, even if they somehow don’t show any interest in Remus or Sirius, there’s James Potter with those round glasses and messy hair and heart big enough for anyone to squeeze in and easy laughter wherever he goes.

And Peter is just there. He’s the afterthought, the extension of the marauders and while the others may don’t see that, Peter feels it every single day.

He sighs, looking up again, blinking harshly to force the tears pricking at his eyes away.

“Sirius!”, Mary calls, and Peter looks up, watching Sirius and Remus stumble inside next to each other. Sirius must have been in the middle of talking, but when Mary calls him, his attention focuses on her and he walks a bit faster, distancing himself from Remus.

Peter watches Remus frown, before biting on his lip and catching up with the other boy, looming behind him like a shadow before tripping him, kicking one feet behind the other leg and it works brilliantly.

Sirius falling over without even trying to catch himself or balancing his body, he just accepts it, putting his hands out at the last second. It’s glorious. Everyone’s eyes fall onto him, some laughing, some debating whether they should shoot their shot and go over there while James cackles, Mary joining as well.

And Remus, that smug bastard, just steps over Sirius, without casting him a second glance, but Peter can see a grin twitching in his lips.

Sirius gasps, mouth hanging open as he jumps up and pats himself down, brushing away non-existing dust before storming after Remus.

Remus, meanwhile, has seated himself opposite of Peter, smiling at him before grabbing himself some toast, not only ignoring Sirius but also pretending not to hear James choke on his own laughter.

“Really Remus?”, Sirius grumbles, “Real mature”, he still plops down directly next to him, “I mean, really, tripping me? How old are you again?”

Remus still doesn’t answer, but James does it for him, choking the words out between breathless laughs, “Wow… that was… brilliant”, Peter is pretty sure he sees a tear slip out of his eye, “The way… the way… that you just…”, he does some very bizarre hand movements before dissolving into laughter again.

Sirius turns to Remus, sending a glare, “And now you even broke James”, he continues, shaking his head disapprovingly, “Are you quite proud of yourself?”

This time Remus can’t keep the smile off of his face and he closes his eyes, body shaking quietly, somewhere else James has started talking again, but both of them completely ignore all of the people sitting around them. As they often do, when they find a topic.

“Stop it, Remus. I can literally see that you can hear me”, Sirius complains, flicking in front of the other’s face.

Remus finally turns to Sirius, eyes glinting, smug smile across his face, “Yes”, he states simply.

And Sirius’ eyes may have just rolled into the back off his head, “Yes, what?”, he forces out, sounding very pained.

“Yes”, he pauses, eyes gliding over the entirety of Sirius for a second, “I’m quite proud.”

Sirius groans, then release a strangled noise, “Ha. Ha. Ha. Wow, you’ve really outdone yourself this time, do you want me to clap?”

“Could you?”

Sirius scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief, but there’s some amazement alight in his eyes, “You are such a wanker, Remus.”

“I try”, Remus sighs before, winking and turning to the others, raising his eyebrows.

Peter glances back at Marlene who is smiling softly into the palm of her hands.

“Wait a minute”, Mary says, waving her hand between Remus and Sirius accusingly, “Weren’t you two fighting and making it everyone’s problem literal minutes ago?”

Sirius grins before turning to Remus, “I don’t know, Remus. Were we?”

He pauses, “Nope, can’t remember. Sorry Mary, you must have gotten things messed up in that pretty little head of yours. “

Mary sighs, “If anyone else said that Remus, I swear to God.”

“Oh?”, Sirius interrupts and Peter exchanges a look with James who is quite literally beaming, because this is their Sirius, “Come on, Mary, you know I love that pretty little head of yours.”

Mary pretends to barf behind Marlene’s body before mouthing a fuck you and turning to the blonde, they stick their heads together, shielding themselves from the entire world, stuck in their own little bubble.

It’s very endearing, so soft and gentle. Peter always feels like an intruder, but he feels like one most of the time and again it’s not because they try to, Peter is sure that his friends all like him, but everyone else thinks so and that has to mean something, he’s so sick of pretending it doesn’t.

He looks away, eyes falling onto Remus and Sirius who have done something similar, turned to each other just not as close, though Peter suspects that they are exchanging insults and not whatever the girls are doing. But that’s just their language.

Oh no.

He thinks grimly.

They have their own language.

And there it is again, that stupid pang of jealousy sparkling through him like a thunder bolt, unstoppable and invalidating.

Peter forces his gaze away, concentrating on James who is sitting there alone, just as him but instead of looking miserable and lonely, he’s munching on his food, eyes warm and content, because he probably is. He’s perfectly fine, brilliant even just because his best friends have made up.

And that’s how he should be.

That’s how a good friend should be.

He should be a good friend.

He can’t be the most charming, or the cleverest, or the fittest, or the funniest, he can’t be the best at anything actually, but he can be a good friend.

Maybe he can’t even do that.

He puts on his best smile, which is mediocre, and looks at James, “Do you also feel left out now, James?”, he laughs, blinking harshly to stop his eyes from glistening.

James looks up, placing his hand on his heart, “Oh yes, terribly. Guess we just have each other now, Pete.”

That’s one thing he has that the others don’t: a nickname.

Two actually, but “Petey” does not count.

He has “Pete” though.

They wouldn’t give him a nickname if he was just an afterthought. He isn’t, he knows that, at least not to them.

But to everyone else.

James sniffs, wiping away pretend tears, “Everyone else has left us.”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic”, Sirius says, hand wiping around in the air as if James was an annoying fly.

“This just gets better and better”, James huffs and he opens his mouth, ready to continue, when it goes slack, eyes widening.

Peter follows his gaze, eyes falling onto Lily Evans, stumbling into the hall, shirt slightly undone, hair ruffled, cheeks glowing, eyes trained onto the ground.

Sirius whistles very quietly, just loud enough for the four of them to hear and Peter turns to him just in time to see Remus purse his lips and elbow him into his ribs harshly, “Remus?! What the fuck?”, he groans, clutching his side.

“Don’t talk about her”, Remus warns, sending him an angry glare.

Sirius lifts his hand, trying to appease him and keep his ribs safe, “Sorry, sorry, I was just…”, he points to Lily with a sorry glance, “She got hot and- “

He doesn’t get further before Remus’ elbow buries itself in his side again, Peter snickers as Sirius falls into Remus, groaning even louder. He should have known though, it’s Remus.

It’s Remus about Lily. And Remus about Lily is a very dangerous thing.

“What?”, he calls out after some more moaning, “Come on, that wasn’t even – “

“Just don’t say anything at all, Sirius”, Peter says, interrupting him, “Besides, I think we should try to resurrect James.”

James is in the exact same position as he was before, mouth wide open, Sirius cackles, forgetting all about his ribs, and even Remus chuckles slightly, shoving Sirius off of his shoulder.

And even though Peter suggested it, he also feels no urge to do anything, so he stays firmly in place, watching a bit of spit, drop out of his mouth.

They probably would have stayed like this forever but eventually Mary has some compassion.

She turns to them, gaze sliding over the still laughing Sirius and leaning over to James, “You’re drooling, sweetie”, she says, pushing his mouth shut before turning away again, presumably back to Lily who has taken her place next to Marlene, staring down into her plate while Marlene coos over her, Peter watches for just a second how she grins while patting Lily’s red hair back into place.

There’s just something about her.

James has finally come back to his senses, beginning to ramble while making small breaks for coughing, “Well, no, I mean”, cough, “What? Yes, sure”, cough, “I… No actually, “cough, “because and”, he finally snaps his mouth shut.

“James, I thought you were over her?”, Sirius groans, flicking James’ ear, “I can’t go around pestering her again.”

“And you won’t”, Remus cuts in firmly.

“Yes, Remus”, Sirius answers flatly, “I won’t, but not because you told me to. It would just be too time consuming; I mean it was technically a full-time job, always finding her and calling her name and pulling you out from underneath your robe”, he clicks his tongue, “that, and your constant moaning about her when you regained your ability to speak. Those were a busy few years”, he sighs, shaking his head.

“Oh, shove off, Sirius, that was only in 1st Year!”, James counters, a blush still creeping on his cheeks which is fair because it was quite embarrassing that James could not get one word out in front of Lily, always blushing, running away, or hiding behind Sirius, clinging onto him for dear life.

Sirius had found it hilarious and had made it his job to get them together which had ended in a very angry Lily, a flushed James, and a wheezing Sirius.

“And 2nd year”, Sirius counts on his fingers, “And wasn’t there 3rd year too? Wasn’t there, Pete?”

Peter nods, “Oh yes, don’t you remember when you fain- “

“Yes, yes”, James rushes in, crimson red all over his face, “Fine, fine, no, just stop”, he begs.

“I think we need to refresh your memory, James, “Peter says, “Can’t you remember when you fainted because – “

“NO!”, James screams, “I mean”, he corrects, somehow growing even redder, “Just forget it, you know, unimportant, let’s just forget about it”, he laughs, scratching his head, “I mean, you know that was so long ago.”

“We will never forget about it, James”, Remus joins in, grinning at his pained expression, “it was spectacular.”

Sirius nods, wistfully, “Showstopping, really.”

Remus points to Sirius, nodding as well.

“I hate all of you”, James says, burrowing his head in his hands.

“She does look great though”, Peter says, Remus narrows his eyes, “What? I’m just saying, I mean she always looked beautiful, but…”, he trails off after another glare from Remus who has lost all humour.

“Maybe you should snog her, Pete”, Sirius suggests.

“You will not!”, Remus and James say at the same time.

“Don’t I get a bit of a say in that one?”, Lily asks, appearing behind Remus, her hair’s back in place, shirt and robe tugged into order.

“Lily!”, Remus says, turning around to her with a broad smile. The Lily Evans smile as Peter named it, that one smile he only gets with Lily, because there’s a certain level of happiness, he only achieves with her and that would be quite embarrassing for a fifteen-year-old if it wasn’t the exact same for Lily.

Peter reckons that they’ll be together by the end of the year if James won’t strangle Remus in his sleep when he finds out.

Maybe he should try to ease James into the idea of Lily dating someone else, because there’s no way that Lily and Remus won’t find each other.

“Hey Lils”, Sirius says, leaning forward, pushing a hair strand out of his face, “May I say you look ravishing today?”

“You may not”, Lily says sweetly, tugging at his Remus’ arm, “Come on, we have to get going”, Remus complies, waving at his friends lazily and begins walking away without a second thought, but Lily turns around to Sirius one last time, “And do not call me Lils.”

Then they’re gone.

“I have class with them, you know”, Sirius grumbles, looking at the empty seat Remus left, “And Remus gets to call her Lils.”

Mary leans over to the rest of them, “You know, if Remus wasn’t literally in the room when she came in, I would have bet anything that they finally got their shit together.”

“I thought they were just friends?”, James mumbles, a very displeased look on his face.

“They are”, Marlene cuts in, not looking at Mary and a sorry looks washes over her. Peter feels his heart sink.

“Mary and I are also just friends ”, Sirius laughs, and Peter can’t help but grin with him.

“No, they actually are”, Mary says, changing sides, sending Marlene a very distinct look that Peter can’t read, “I was just kidding.”

Peter’s grin fades as Marlene lights up.

It’s all so unfair.

“Yeah, yeah”, Sirius says, getting up, “I’m going to class, which I share with the two love birds by the way”, he sighs, leaving the hall.

“I’m going to miss you, Sirius”, James calls out and Sirius blows him a kiss before leaving. They are not allowed in the same classes anymore unless strictly necessary after the great Transfiguration incident, as they like to call it.

But great things take great sacrifice as Sirius always says.

“All right, Pete. Let’s go too.”

“Yeah, all right. Bye Mary. Marlene”, he loves her name. It just rolls off of his tongue so easily, like a spell it always manages to leave him enchanted, repeating it over and over again. He just loves it.

--

The first day back in school passes slowly and without anything happening. James and Peter don’t see Remus for that entire day, always just missing it and forcing Sirius to reassure them that he is indeed still well and alive.

They only see him when they are all back in their dorm in the evening.

He’s lying on his bed, nose already buried in a book, not even noticing them coming in until the door falls shut with a loud groan, he jumps a little before looking up, and rolling his eyes.

“And what if that was a murderer, huh Remus? What would you have done then”, James starts rambling, dropping into his bed and Peter follows his example.

“I would have died”, Remus says dumbly.

“Exactly and you don’t want that, do you?”

“If you keep interrupting me, I might have to become a murderer, James”, he sighs.

“Blah, blah”, he blows a raspberry, “Or what if it was Snape?”

“That would be worse than death”, Peter argues.

James sits up, pointing at him, “You get me, Peter!”

Peter grins, looking back at the ceiling, “Or it could be a dragon”, he wonders.

Remus snaps his book shut, huffing from what it sounds like, “Fine, you’ve won.”

“We are only trying to prepare you for when a troll comes to get you.”

“Or a pixie!”. Peter chimes in again and James laughs carelessly.

“Come on”, Remus complains, “Don’t do me like that. A pixie, really? At least give me a werewolf or something”, he grumbles.

“Fine, fine. Remus, we were preparing you for a werewolf coming in to get you”, James complies, and Peter listens to him shuffle around on his bed before his feet hit the ground with a muffled thud.

“Where are you going, James?”, he asks.

“Taking a wee”, a door falls shut.

A silence settles over them, no one daring to break it, it feels far too quiet, so Peter coughs, sitting up and glancing over at Remus who, surprisingly isn’t reading but watching Peter with an intense look.

“How are you on this fine day, Remus?”, he asks.

“Fine, fine. You?”

Peter purses his lips and shrugs, “Can’t complain.”

“Fantastic.”

He groans, shoulders slacking, “Come on, Remus. Stop pouting about us stopping you from reading, which we didn’t, we literally just talked.”

“I’m not pouting! And you literally included me in your conversation”, he calls back, eyes glinting.

“Oh, you totally were.”

Remus shakes his head, eyebrows creased, lips in a fine line, “Was not.”

“Don’t lie, your breath is rattling through your teeth, and you have that one line on your forehead that you only get when you’re moping.”

Remus glares at Peter fiercely but he finally sighs, bowing his head, “You know me too well, Pete, do you know that?”

Peter sighs wistfully, “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Why are you always so blunt, Peter?”

“Why are you always so rude, Remus?”

Remus blinks.

Peter blinks back.

Remus blinks again.

Peter returns the blink.

Slowly, a small smile creeps on Remus’ face.

Peter feels his mouth tug up at well.

That’s just how it is between them. This is what they are. Bantering and petty fights without any anger or anything, just to pass time. Peter is pretty sure they fought Can Remus read his mind? How the fuck did he know that?

“Speaking of what?”, his voice is raised.

“Huh?”, Remus replies, eyebrows shooting up, “Weren’t we… We were just talking about Sirius, weren’t we?”, Remus sits up, tilting his head, “Are you fucking with me?”

“What? No, we just weren’t talking about Sirius, Remus”, he answers slowly.

Can he subconsciously hear my thoughts?

This is getting weird.

“No, no, we were. We just, you said”, he recounts, wagging his arms in the air like a very calm, confused maniac, “You said that I’m rude and then you…”

“And then I didn’t say anything else”, he finishes when Remus trails off, looking very lost.

“But how did I get to Sirius?”, he asks, shooting him a very concerned look as if he’s worried, he might be insane.

“I don’t know, were you thinking about him?”

“No, he was just there, as if you mentioned him”, he rubs over his eyes, burrowing his head in his hands.

“Well, I didn’t”, he says dumbly and Remus groans, “Yes, I’ve caught that.”

And then something strikes Peter, something so brilliant, so spectacular, a bubbly laughter almost escapes out of his mouth. He bites his lip before making very serious eye contact with Remus.

“I just insulted you”, he says very slowly, “And your mind automatically jumped to Sirius”, he pauses to force the grin out of his face before continuing, “Remus, do you connect Sirius with fighting?”

And the look on Remus’ face, priceless, he looks into the distance, taken aback, staring dumbly for a second before realization crosses his face, eyes popping out of his head, mouth opening slightly before he looks back at Peter, then back down, back up at Peter and suddenly life jumps back into his body, “NO! no, no, I mean, NO! That would be crazy, Peter.”

Peter nods, clicking his tongue.

“No really, you know, I think of Snape. I don’t connect Sirius with insulting, obviously I don’t, that would be crazy. I mean”, he chuckles very tensely, “I don’t think of insults that I could use and store them for later, that doesn’t even make sense.”

Peter tils his head, struggling to not burst out laughing, “Nobody said that you do that.”

“Exactly, I don’t! It was just an example, Peter, Merlin, stop looking at me like that.”

Peter finally breaks and bursts out laughing, and he doesn’t stop for quite a while.
________________________________________________________

Life is pretty shit.

Sirius has come to that conclusion

Life is shitty, unfair, and stupid.

If life were a person, it would be Snape.

He kicks a wand that is discarded on the floor as he makes his way back to the dorm.

It’s already empty in the halls and life is shit.

It’s just so fucking unfair.

It’s not fair that everyone’s fine, it’s unfair that he is not, it’s unfair that he wishes he would be, it’s unfair that his brother wasn’t home, it’s unfair that others have happy families and happy Christmas. But most importantly, it’ s unfair that his parents still reach him, that he can’t shake him off and he feels them lingering in his body like a cold.

It’s stupid that it’s so easy to pretend he is completely fine. Because that’s all he has been doing. Pretending. Laughing, joking, talking, eating, breathing.

Ms. Pomfrey was nice at least, she didn’t ask question just gave him that stupid salve and send him on his way. He adores her. He’s sure she knows something but after trying once, she backed off, shutting her mouth and helping him.

He had to ask her to apply it one time, but he normally does it himself, he doesn’t want to feel her eyes on his wounds, or anyone’s eyes for that matter. Even if they aren’t filled with judgement, they would be filled with pity and embarrassment. He can’t handle that.

So, he’s walking back, almost there at his dorm, his bones aching.

“Black!”, a voice calls and he snaps around, cold gaze falling on Evan.

“Rosier”, he answers, looking him up and down. He’s wearing his robe with a tie loosely around his neck and hair slightly ruffled, “What are you doing here?”, he struggles to keep emotion out of his voice.

Evan coughs, staring directly into his eyes just like he always does, “I got you this”, he pulls out a small, covered tray which looks identical to the one Sirius can feel dig into his ribs. Evan takes another step toward him, arm stretching over the distance between them.

Sirius can’t stop his instincts from grabbing the thing, feeling the cool silver metal against his skin, he frowns, looking back up at the other boy, “Why would you get me this?”

Evan shrugs, still staring into his eyes with an intense look, “Wasn’t sure you’d get some for yourself.”

“So?”

“So… I got one for you.”

“I didn’t ask you to”, Sirius says dumbly, still clutching onto Evan’s salve with his fingers.

Evan nods, “Yes.”

“Why did you do it then?”, he repeats, sticking his chin out, trying to sound unbothered. Really trying to. He should be, he knows that. He just isn’t. This is Evan after all. His first friend that wasn’t Regulus because that’s what he was. His friend not Regulus’, his .

His friend.

And now he should be nothing, but he isn’t.

“Just accept that I did.”

Sirius shakes his head, shoving the tray into Evan’s abdomen hastily. Evan struggles to catch it, eyes wide and confused, “No”, he really wants to stop, but Evan keeps looking so Sirius pats his own salve, “Got my own.”

“Oh”, Evan breaths out and Sirius nods before turning away and begins to walk away quickly.

“Wait Sirius”, Evan calls out again, “Sirius?!”, again, but he doesn’t react, keeps walking, straight in a line.

“Sirius!”, it’s a bit desperate, “It’s… it’s from your brother”, Sirius stops.

Because that’s all it takes.

That’s all he needs to stop everything.

Regulus.

His brother.

“What?”, he forces out, slowly turning around.

Evan’s gaze is cold as if he just remembered that they aren’t friends anymore, his voice is clear and calm all of the sudden, “He told me to give it to you.”

Sirius walks back with sure steps, feeling a new energy flowing through the air, the silver thing almost buzzes and blinks, calling out to him. Urging him to go faster.

Once he reaches it, he snatches it out of Evan’s hand before walking away again, mumbling a whole lot of nothing not letting Evan get another word in before he’s gone.

He doesn’t dare to open to the thing until he is in his dorm, has rushed his hello’s to his friends and slipped into the bathroom.

Listening to the door fall shut before opening the salve, the green slimy thing greeting him with that special, disgusting smell like egg and blood and sweat. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself and immediately starts coughing. He sets it down on the sink before continuing his coughing.

The smell biting through his nose and mouth and throat until everything is raw.

He sighs, of course, there wouldn’t be a note. Why did he expect anything?

His eyes sting and he blinks harshly, wiping over his face and shaking his head, eyes finding his body in the mirror. He looks horrible.

Dark eyes, red eyes, flushed face, bruised neck. He pulls off his t-shirt the rest of the wounds coming into display as if he is a painting his parents forged, he doesn’t dare to look at the signature his mother left.

His hands rib at his hair before finally digging into the salve and feeling the slight burn.

He works quickly, ignoring the stabbing pain that the salve leaves at first to get through this quickly, he starts with his neck and his eye, watching the first bruises change, continuing with his ribs and his left arm and stomach and as much of his back as he can reach.

The bruises turn black just as they always do, they aren’t going to be unnoticeable until the morning. They’ll stay black for a while and then turn green before red again and then they’re gone.

He closes his eyes, preparing for the words engraved in his right arm.

One.

Two.

Three.

He takes another breath, cool air rattling through his lungs, before opening it and staring down at the sentence.

It has turned red around the edges, the swelling making it appear even bigger. It throbs and just by looking at it once more, he knows it won’t disappear. There’s no way. It will be etched into his skin forever.

These words will stay with him forever, they will stay until he’s dead and they’ll stay even longer than that. His mother told him once that the scars she does that end up looking like the ones he has now, with the blue glimmer over them are carved into his bones.

But till now only lines were carved into his bones. This is the first time that words will stay with him forevermore.

If his body will be found one day, they will think of him as one of them who was so sure that he got it engraved in his bones.

Nothing he does truly matters anymore. It’s not just his blood he has to prove wrong no, it’s his bones. His entire body is stained with his destiny. A destiny that even if he doesn’t pursue it, he won’t escape from and isn’t that just so fucking beautiful?

So beautiful and tragic and stupid and unfair and shitty. Because life is exactly that. Or to him at least.

He gasps, tears spilling out of his eyes, and he looks away unable to stop the salty water from falling and blurring his vision until the words disappear.

There’s a voice somewhere. All around him are voice then.

Everything is filled.

The air is drained, and he is left falling to the ground.

Lungs bound and shut.

Air dry and filled with spikes, ripping apart his throat.

He isn’t sure if he screams or cries or keeps his mouth shut or if he’s dying. He has no idea of anything.

His surroundings, his brain, his body, everything is distanced from him. Just out of his reach and he is left bare, with only his bones that tell him the same thing over and over again.

In different voices and sounds, in screams, in whispers, in shouts, in threats.

Toujours Pur.

Toujours Pur.

Toujours Pur.

“Sirius!”, a voice rips through all the others, “Sirius!”, there’s a hand on his shoulder, he can feel it.

He isn’t scared or flinching.

He knows that hand.

He knows there’s no reason to be scared.

It’s Remus.

“Sirius!”, his voice pulls him away.

Remus.

Remus.

That’s Remus.

Remus is here.

Remus.

He can feel his mind returning to him, closing the distance until they are one again, his body reconnects, and he blinks, feeling the cold tiles underneath his legs and that hand on his shoulders.

Remus’ hand.

“Hey”, Remus says softly, retracting his hands and flopping down onto the tiles next to Sirius.

His cheeks are wet, there’s so much here, so many emotions to feel. He should be scared, embarrassed, shocked, sad, hysterical maybe, but he feels safe.

That is until he looks down, looks down at his chest still bare and completely black. Terror creeps into his body, seeping through his toes, all the way into his brain, cold and hard like steel.

He looks back up at Remus who is frowning”, I’m so sorry, Remus, you weren’t supposed to, you were never supposed”; he chokes out, feeling tears slip down his throat as terror flows through him.

Everything is falling.

His stomach is dark and deep in his abdomen. Dread pushing it down further and further.

Remus shakes his head, and his eyes aren’t filled with embarrassment or shock, or anger or disappointment and they aren’t filled with pity. They are empty. Sirius can’t read them.

“Who did this?”, Remus asks, raising his eyebrows. Sirius can feel his last tear flowing down his cheek. Confusion silencing all the other emotions.

“Who…did…this?”, he repeats dumfounded.

Remus nods.

Sirius looks away, staring down onto the ground, “My parents”, he whispers.

“No”, Remus gasps quietly, releasing a big breath.

“Yes”, Sirius answers, trying to stop his eyes from stinging like this.

“But…”, Remus stops, and Sirius looks over to him, his hand is in his hair, lips pursed, “Why?”

Sirius sighs, and because he feels like he can, because he isn’t this close to breaking down, because it’s Remus and him, just him and Remus, he looks at him, catches his eye and speaks, “Remember when I told you I was their punching bag?”

Remus’ eyes widen, almost popping out of his mouth and Sirius can’t help himself before a grin spreads on his face. Remus eyes somehow open even further, eyebrows almost falling off of his head and Sirius begins laughing.

His throat is raw, and it rips through his body, but it’s so freeing.

He watches as a small smile plays on Remus’ as well which is just so comical that Sirius laughs even more and he listens as Remus joins him, quieter and holding back, but they are still laughing.

It feels so beautifully normal.

But eventually their laughing stops and he has to watch Remus’ drive over his body again, darkening before meeting his again and then Remus pales.

His skin goes ghost-white, eyes glistening, mouth falling open. He looks over to Sirius.

“Is this because of the prank?”, he whispers, tears shooting into his eyes, “Oh, no, Sirius, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“Shut up, Remus”, Sirius cuts in, stopping this nonsense rambling, “They would have found another reason”, he pauses, “They did actually before they used the prank as an excuse. They just want to do it.”

And oh . He has never said that. He has thought it but hearing it…

He knows it must be true. It’s as if a little stone in his shoe has been removed and he did all by himself.

Remus nods, “Okay”, before turning back to him, “And also what the fuck?!”, Sirius blood runs cold, “What kind of bastard, pervert, disgusting people would do that?”, and just like that he’s warm again. Because this is Remus. And everything just feels so warm with him.

“Hey”, he says, lightly punching his shoulders, “those are my parents you’re talking about”, he jokes because he is able to.

“They don’t deserve to be”, Remus replies, “You know what they deserve?”

Sirius nods, another smile playing around his lips, “Death?”

“YES!”, he calls out.

Sirius sighs, “I know.”

“Good”, he pauses, and Sirius can feel his heavy gaze, “Are you alright?”

“Fabolous.”

“Sirius.”

“I’m fine, Remus”, he says, looking into his eyes with what he hopes earnestly, “I’m fine now.”

And Remus nods and then they are quiet.

“You’re amazing, Sirius”, Remus whispers a while later, “The fact that you had to put with all of that and still became this amazing person, it’s surreal.”

“Don’t get sappy with me, Remus”, he can feel his cheeks burning and he chuckles awkwardly.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“Good.”

Then they are quiet again.

“The bruises will be mostly gone in the morning”, Sirius hears himself saying.

“All right”, he simply says.

They are quiet again.

“Sirius”, Remus says, “I think you should talk to James and Peter.”

“But the bruises will be gone, didn’t you hear?”

“I heard but then we can help you”, Remus says in a serious tone, “You deserve help.”

They are quiet again, but this time Sirius can feel tears running down his cheeks.

“Sirius”, Remus repeats after a while and Sirius doesn’t have the energy to react, but then Remus’ hand grabs onto his arm, delicately and softly.

Sirius’ head snaps up, but he isn’t scared, it’s just warm all over. And something buzzes in his stomach.

“You’re safe here, Sirius.”