“No it’s just… he has those moments you know,” James reveals with a vague gesture toward Remus.
Remus had felt a dull ache in his leg since the moment he got up. He’d made the mistake of sitting cross-legged on his bed, and now he grimaced as he bent down to retrieve his old sweater, sprawled carelessly on the floor.
“It's just that sometimes, for someone who talks so much, Sirius can be very closed off,” Remus replied in a tone flat enough to keep any hint of judgment at bay.
The werewolf knew all too well how one was compelled to shield parts of oneself from the eyes of others. The little power you held onto was what you kept from others. Like a tiny, precious pearl, hidden in the curve of your palm. Sirius held some of those too, and while Remus didn’t know exactly what they looked like, he was familiar with the feeling of carrying them. He understood Sirius without needing all of him to be laid bare, that quiet, vague recognition that allows you to love simply, taking things as they were. But at the moment, Remus was anxious; Sirius had left in a rush, and no one knew why nor where.
“He couldn't have gone far... At least, he's still in the castle," James tried to reassure both himself and Remus, whose gaze remained fixed on their only vertical window. It was too old and too dusty for him to truly make out anything at a distance.
"Well, it's not like Hogwarts isn't dangerous either. Last year there was that guy, Geralt, who died, and this year we haven't even heard anything about that Slytherin who got turned into a hairbrush."
“Calm down! It's just how the classes are," James chuckled. “Though this dude was nice for a snake.”
What was sometimes frustrating with wizards who had little to no experience with the muggle world, like Sirius or in a lesser case James, was their rather unique perspective... especially when it came to danger. Remus didn’t keep count of the number of times the two of them had gotten into perilous situations. At the same time, their personalities didn’t exactly help them hold back. For Sirius and James, the only form of education they knew was Hogwarts, not some small, anonymous nursery school where they took away the safety scissors to prevent you from hurting yourself.
Sirius was back in the dormitory. He was surprised to find James and Remus still there.
"You’re going to be late for dinner," Black muttered.
"It's just fifteen minutes, grumpy king," James teased him, inadvertently bringing a flicker of a smile to Sirius’ face. “So hum…”
Remus noticed that James was holding back from bombarding Sirius with questions about his sudden departure earlier. The werewolf gave him a subtle nod, urging him to say nothing.
“Well uh… we were talking about the…” James hesitated.
“The next Transfiguration assignment we're supposed to turn in on Monday," Remus continued.
“Alright…” Sirius said, before letting himself be swept away by the flow of his friends' words and guided toward the Great Hall.
Peter was already seated at the table. On Thursday afternoon, he had signed up for a sewing club simply because the girl he liked was the manager. Now, it turned out that Peter had developed a newfound passion for fabric and thread. Sirius didn’t hold back, as usual, teasing him. Most of the time, Peter didn’t respond, just crossing his arms and staring at his plate. But today, Sirius’ mouth was only open for the delicious pie sitting in front of him. There were days when the towering piles of food served by the house-elves disgusted him. It must be said that at Grimmauld, Sirius mostly consumed so-called "healthy" meals, which consisted of salads, soups and stews. Of course, Walburga had plenty of opinions on gastronomy. Occasionally, Sirius would simply forget to think about going to the dining hall. If it weren’t for James, Remus, or Peter pulling him by the sleeve, he would probably skip it altogether. Sirius had never found an explanation for his behavior, because he still enjoyed eating. It was just that the feeling of hunger never came when he thought too much— or too little.
At the end of the meal, as everyone was getting up, Remus tapped Sirius on the shoulder to get his attention. "How about we go sit somewhere?"
Even after a few years, Remus still found himself intimidated by the other boy. Sirius slipped a piece of bread into his pocket and followed the taller one :
"Are you going to be all mysterious and not tell me where we're going?" Sirius asked.
"We do as usual pads.”
No one was in the Astronomy Tower that night, as there were no classes scheduled, since it was a Tuesday. Sirius had a pass because he was part of the club, a small group consisting of no fewer than six people. It wasn’t something widely known, as he had a reputation to uphold, after all. Remus was aware of Sirius’s passion; he had caught him a few times leafing through books on the subject when they were in their dormitories. And it was one of the rare instances where Sirius actually read anything. Sirius crossed his arms; he was cold. Remus conjured a small ball of light to warm them :
“Did something happen today?" Remus asked.
Sirius leaned against the cold stone wall. The ball of light created by Remus cast large shadows on the stone floor.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Remus said after a pause, his tone steady. “But you also don’t have to carry it alone.”
“It’s just family stuff as always, nothing you didn’t know already.”
“Your parents ?”
Remus stayed quiet, giving Sirius the space to continue if he wanted to.
“My father for once.” Sirius said. “He sent a pretty long letter.”
"You know you don't have to read your mail every time."
"I know, but I can't help it." Sirius began, "Can you imagine if something important happens? Sometimes my father's name appears in the newspaper, Moony. I can't afford to miss anything."
Remus nodded thoughtfully, his eyes softening as he considered Sirius's words. He understood the weight that came with the Black family name, the pressure to stay vigilant. That evening, Remus and Sirius did little more than talk and play cards. Remus couldn't help but notice the signs that Sirius had been crying earlier that day: his eyelashes were clumped together, his cheeks slightly flushed, and his eyes weary with exhaustion. They made their way to their beds quietly, like wolves on the prowl. James and Peter were curled up in their blankets. The boys had gotten into the habit of changing in the middle of the room. Only Remus would hide behind a piece of furniture or his curtains. Sirius was worse than James and Peter, and Remus made sure to look away every time... He had to be careful not to let anything show. Once ready, the two teenagers exchanged a few quiet words and turned off their dim light. A few minutes later, when Remus turned his head toward the pillow to look at Sirius, he found him already asleep, his mouth slightly ajar and his fists clenched around his blanket in his usual position. Sometimes, Remus wanted to take his fingers and untangle them one by one, so that Sirius would seem truly at peace to him. He found it unfair that sleep wasn’t even a refuge for the other boy.